#this card and the scene from his other hard mode card where they insist he let them carry some of his bags just hit the spot so much?

[celestialrealms]

barbatos letting himself be loved and cared for. barbatos letting himself be loved and cared for!!!

[blackbloodteeth]

"SoMa no kissing in The Backroom challenge (Hard Mode)"

Well this was intended for April Fools Day but sometimes things get a little out of hand don’t they haha

I wrote this with the premise of “no plans, no backspaces” (except for fixing typos otherwise this would be unreadable) because of a joke I made in chat, which is where the exact words of the title comes from, typo included. Hopefully the nonstop work I did on this for over a week is at least worth the read.

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[Also on AO3]

Rating:    Teen And Up Audiences

Archive Warning:    Graphic Depictions Of Violence

Fandom:    Soul Eater (Anime & Manga)

Relationship:    Maka Albarn/Soul Eater Evans

Characters:    Soul Eater Evans,  Maka Albarn

Additional Tags:    Religious Imagery & Symbolism,  Violence,  Blood,  Body Horror,  Trauma

Language:    English

Words:    9920

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The story starts with Soul and Maka having left the hallway into an unidentified room, holding hands as one of them claims to tell them something (I'm not sure who we'll see if this becomes relevant later).

"Hey, I need to tell you something..." It's probably Maka.

As it turns out the room has other plans when the lights flicker and the surrounding area fades into a change of scene. The walls become a yellowish office hue, with those bright monotone white lights overhead, and an incessant buzz droning into your skull from the trademark origins of said previously mentioned standard faculty lighting.

"Oh shiot the backrooms?!" That was probably Soul.

Why yes I am keeping that typo, but also while he and her also were looking around they noticed that it may not be The Backrooms but instead The Backroom, since there was only a singular room instead of the endless horizon of identical labyrinthian empty spaces. Go figure.

"Well this is a problem."

It was indeed a problem. They continued looking and saw that it was a room and that this came with the consequence of just being a room, no doorways, no windoways, and no ways that it appeared to have an exit.

In case that sentence was too butchered to make sense, they’re locked in here now. Looks like they’ll have to survive not kissing in here The narrator insists that thought came from one of them, probably the one who had to tell the other something wink wink.

Souls eyes dart between the empty space and Maka’s squinting, wondering what the actual heck is going on and probably if he’s crazy I guess since that seems like a reasonable assumption.

“Okay...” He reigns himself in, facing her directly. “I guess we should probably figure out how to escape, and probably pray we actually can all things considered.”

She fidgets. “Solid plan.”

So the two try to assess the current state of the backish room – Which unsurprisingly still did not contain anything text worthy – Until one of them sighs, probably both, and there is another hand holding, with sincerity.

“Look no matter what happens I’ll try to stay with you, we can figure this out.”

Queue title card of area.

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Part 1 – Limbo

As you may have guessed, there’s nothing much here.

This part is probably not going to be long.

The two decide to take different routes of examining the room – For Maka she focuses on her Soul Perception, while Soul physically runs his hands along every inch of the walls to see if there’s a secret hidden in them that he somehow wouldn’t have known with only his previous experience with this concept to be theoretical.

“Yeah, still not really getting anything, aside from you and me anyway.”

He sighs, as it seems his luck is similar. “Well this sucks.”

She wanders up to him, maybe to give him both an extra set of eyes and some optimism that usually one does not remain trapped in solitary room states forever (in better or worse implications), and sends him another smile that the will of some unforeseen force says he should enjoy seeing.

His glance flicks out with a sense of unease for a moment.

“Well, guess this isn’t the worst situation we could have ended up having.“ He reluctantly agrees. “Guess I could...”

She motions to him indiscriminately.

“Sit down with you and talk I guess.”

Soul shuffles a bit in place while pondering the implications of having to communicate, and the possibility that it could involve feelings and personal stuffs, and he’s not sure if he wants to do that since he is in fact the world’s most cagey bastard even if said world is currently just a box.

“What.. do you wanna talk about.” They lean against the wall, mostly that he did it with his shoulder to mirror her propping against it with her back, and she snickers slightly.

“You said you had something you wanted to tell me?”

He blinks.

“Did.. I?”

Her brows furrow with a sense of playfulness if not also a slight confusion. “Yeah? That why we ended up here in the first place, since you pulled me aside in the hall.”

He continues his stupefied blinking before she corrects herself with her hands motioning. “Okay not first place first place, but like before the room changed for whatever reason.”

The air is quiet a moment as he genuinely replays the events that have occurred just now, sifting through them to remember right before then and if he was in fact the one who was asking her to ask her something, and it dawns on him that maybe he was even if he has no idea what it was he wanted to ask in the first place.

“I’m not sure...”

But he looks her in the eyes, certain that whatever it was it was probably important.

“Guess we have enough time for me to figure out that out, though.”

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Part 2 – Indecision

They pull away from the wall when suddenly it starts to shift.

The air feels almost like it’s vibrating, fidgeting like an innumerable swarm of busybody insects as the room tints to a passive shade of grey. Along each four cardinal walls soon stood four differing objects, still as if always having been there.

The closest: A couch. Black and white, plush, but strange as that soft feature appeared to stem entirely from being made of stuffed toy rats.

Across from that: A chessboard. Similarly colored while retaining a sense of normalcy being made of wood and carved plainly, albeit lacking any sort of seating to go along with it.

To the right: A bookshelf. Topped up and down with loads of books, all of different colors and most likely of different subject matter. Still they sat but quietly they beckoned with how densely populated the whole shelf was kept.

And finally: A piano. It remained silent and patient.

“...The hell is this?”

Unfortunately no answer was returned as the gleam in Maka’s eye had already taken her to personally inspecting the bookshelf of its contents, much to Soul’s eyerolling. She seemed excited though even if she still wouldn’t admit she’s absolutely a nerd.

“Wow, they’ve even got Dante’s Inferno on here...” He simply saunters away from the unsettling rodent affair, glare suspicious and unyielding toward the more concerning addition to their imprisonment.

“This feels like some sort of trap, if I’m to be honest.”

Her hair whips as she shoots a look to both him and the obvious transgressor.

“What?”

A chuckle turns her away from the book she was readying to dive right into (just a closer examination of its sudden appearance, of course), arms now crossed with that sass she never lets up even in stranger times. “A piano isn’t suddenly going kill you.”

His squint narrows further.

“Factually incorrect, actually.”

He continues before her stance has a chance to go anywhere. “Look, Black Room yadda yadda, but also people have been killed by pianos before. Usually dropped from great heights but there was that one guy who got ran over once.”

His hands motion away her imminent questioning. “Look, all I’m saying is I don’t trust a damn thing about any of this” �� Each point is further emphasized with gesturing – “At least two of these relates to our personal interests, this one’s just freakin’ weird, and this… I dunno actually, looks like filler I guess.”

Maka’s analytical gaze does another brief sweep before falling back onto the rat couch with a growing smile, which he immediately also did not trust.

“...You really freaked out by the couch?”

He fidgets subtly. “...It’s weird.”

That smile overtakes her face and sends him into further restlessness, especially with how she’s flipping between him and it. “I think it’s cute.”

“You...” His blinks flutter more rapidly. “Maka it’s made of rats.”

“Soul those are clearly stuffed animals.”

“On an entire couch??”

“Oh come on, I bet it’s soft.”

He scrunches up. “God, please tell me you wouldn’t actually sit on that thing.”

Regret immediately seizes him when she gave him that look that told him oh I definitely would sit on that thing before she drops her arms, reveling in his increasing discomfort as she prods one of the vermin making up the arm.

“Yep. Feels soft.”

“Maka, please don’t...” Genuine distress starts to raise his tone when the head of the rat registered as movement when she pulled away, his fists clenched while trying to remain level headed. “We don’t actually know if that’s safe.”

A sense of playful desire to continue teasing him dissipates at his sighing, her arms now idle as she steps away, softened. “Yeah, you’re right. Sorry.”

His fingers scratch at the back of his hair, a murmur still keeping his focus on the potential dubiousness of him having just imagined that.

“`s fine. Just… bit on edge right now…...”

He lifts his eyes up again when she reaches her hand out to him, a huff breaking out his smirk while he meets her palm again, and a sense of comfort washes through him with seeing that despite it all her reassurance thankfully hasn’t changed.

“Like I said: No matter what happens, I’ll be with you the whole way.”

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“So...” His eyes gloss over the different array of covers as he continues halfhearted moving each of them around. “What’s Dante’s Inferno actually about?”

Maka glances at him briefly, a smirk raised to his brows furrowing. “What?”

“I’m surprised you asked.”

“I mean I’ve heard of it before, just never read it… Probably nerd stuff…….” She snorts at his grumbled pouting. The books keep shuffling with her attention to them as she remains smiling, more enticed by the opening to inform than to seize the chance for further teasing.

“Well it’s a story about an Italian poet who journeys through each layer and learns something about what it really means and the significance of each punishment. Genuinely really fascinating, especially for the time period.”

Soul’s finger hovers over a volume of something seemingly animal related until he slowly resumes his prodding. “...Layers of what?”

She stops and blinks. “...The Inferno.”

He squints, their staredown lasting approximately 30 seconds before he takes a gander at connecting the vague dots.

“...Like Hell?”

At this moment he now wondered if she was trying to Morse code his stupidity through eyelids alone, lips raised in a patient but very noticeably befuddled shade of amusement. “Yes…? Did I not already say that?”

“No, actually.” He deadpans. “Just that there were layers and that could have meant literally anything without context.”

Her eyes visibly replay her words through her head, quickly dropping into bit of chuckles once registering that she did in fact miss that part of her explanation, much to the chagrin of one’s initial intentions.

“Sorry, I thought I mentioned that.” The book she left parted away from its brethren was then returned after having been held for long enough, a lighthearted hum resuming as she returned to inspecting the remainder of that particular shelf.

“Yeah, it’s about Hell. Each layer is divided by the different sins people who don’t want to make up for them have committed, starting from the outer edge and getting progressively more intense the deeper it goes. Pretty interesting this actually does reflect the layers of the Earth’s core while still going through all this different symbolism.”

“Yep that sounds like nerd stuff.”

He snickers as her knee retaliates into his shoulder, hands soon dusting themselves off when he finally reaches another shelf’s end with a sigh. “Well doesn’t look like there’s actually any secret switches behind any of these...”

The thud of a hardcover resounds as she frowns. “Yeah… At least it was worth a shot…...”

Blood flow restores to his legs as he levers himself back up into standing, fingers stretching as he shakes them off and rolls his shoulders.

“So, what now?”

Consideration immediately turns around to the other side of the room where – “Aside from that.” – and then moves over to the right, mentally interrogating the chess board already set up even without anything to sit up to it with. As it stood the potential hazard level of it simply being there was estimated to be fairly low, so she lets her eyebrows raise at the prospect of something entertaining for them to do. “Care for a game?”

“...Do you know how to play?”

They then plummet at the sheer audacity of the assumption that she would have said not. “Yes?”

Soul’s eyes roll almost fast enough to take his head along with the force. “Do you know how to explain the rules.”

“Oh.”

She clears her throat before walking over to the table, briefly examining it and then lifting up one of the pieces slowly, setting it back down to where it had just been after nothing strange had decided to finally descend upon them and Soul had done a thorough amount of anxious fidgeting. “Here.”

His hands tuck into the pockets of his steady gait toward the opposite end of the board – the white pieces – while she takes position across from him. The awaiting game was indeed carved in a similar manner to the table, but in the curiosity of his touch he began to wonder if it had been done in bone instead of wood…

“This front row? Those are your Pawns.” Her instruction gestures out to the relevant parts of the board. “This piece here is your King – Your goal is to make sure I don’t capture him while you try to take mine. This one is the Queen; Unlike the King who can only move one space at a time, she can go pretty much anywhere so think carefully about how you want to move her so you don’t end up wasting her abilities.”

He nods to confirm that so far things made sense.

“The Pawns also can only move one square at a time but only directly in front of them and if that space is empty. They can’t capture another piece directly in front of them, only when another piece is standing diagonally to it like this – “ A spare pawn is used to demonstrate the attack pattern. “ – If you can get a Pawn to my end of the board you can then turn it into any other piece you want.” He nods again, pieces returned to their proper spots.

“The rest of these are the Rooks, Bishops, and Knights. Rooks can move as far as they want but can only move in these directions, but you can capture whoever’s closest in any of the directions. Bishops work the same way but they move diagonally instead. And Knights move differently than any of the other pieces, kind of in an L shape like this – “ The ivory slides over multiple center squares. “ – both forwards and backwards. These ones can actually jump over other pieces so you can only capture with a Knight if another piece is on the last square they land on.”

The pieces are once again set back, this time tidied up and straightened forward, an excitement shimmering in her eyes that he knows is going to give him hell later.

“Other than that, the Pawns can move two spaces only when they’re first allowed to move and there’s a special move you can use once per game that lets you move Rook and King together, but other than that I think you’ll be able to pick it up as you go.”

Soul lets out a slow exhale while taking a moment to let that all sink in, eventually raising his shark-toothy smile up in accepting her challenge. “So, who starts first?”

“White does.”

Oh that grin definitely tells him she isn’t planning to go easy on him.

“Got it...” His hand hesitates out briefly, then extending a pawn from the middle, two spaces forward like he already knows to do so.

Let the game begin.

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The makeshift door opened swiftly with her brisk entrance, eyes still bound to the journalings while she hurried over to him.

“Found something?”

A sharp sigh indicated that that may indeed be a yes, the papers soon sat in front of him as she did, that sternness worn unyielding even if her tone held no affront. “I think we just might finally have found the thing we’ve been searching for.”

Intrigue brings his fingers over his chin as she unfolds the relevant notes for him, scrawlings and sketches somehow still as concise as ever. His eyes tread lightly yet with care, soaking up every drop of information until eventually his gaze lifts, heavy with a newly added weight of dread even aside from the pervasive fear looming through the very air itself.

“A power greater than anything ever imagined...”

Her mutter sicks into him, thickening the tension. “Do you really believe this to be a wise decision?”

“Do you trust me?”

His thumb strokes in restless thought for a moment. “You and you alone, yes.”

“Then allow me to pursue this chance to finally end all bloodshed.”

That ideal did ring deep with him – It was no hidden fact that their very home had quickly descended into a battlefield, one that now only reeked of war and chaos in mere days, and ever the strategist he considered both scales accordingly before finally reaching his verdict, solemn yet proud.

“If it is your will, than so it shall be done – I’ll continue to follow it until the very end.”

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Part 3 – Hesitation

“Checkmate.”

An air of victory resounds in the final tap of ebony across the board, Maka’s triumph lasting for only a few second before suddenly the lights start to flicker, both of them instinctively distancing themselves from the table while the room already began to shift again.

At first, nervousness at the unexpected change of scene, but soon a bewildered uncertainty with their surroundings now being cozily lit, décor more fit for a small party.

Beside them, as they looked back, was now a wider table hosting an array of tantalizing food and drink. To Soul’s left stood a grandfather clock where the bookshelf once was, ticking quietly to itself yet unassuming. To Maka’s right came a soft tune of inviting music, spun from a record that played of its own accord. And at the remaining wall there sat a simple recliner.

“Well if didn’t look like a trap before, it definitely does now,” he mutters, tension keeping his movements stiff despite his attempt to seem calm.

Maka at least appears to take this in better than he is. “Hey at least it’s friendly.”

“That’s the part I don’t trust the most.”

Her laugh turns away as she continues surveying the room, though inevitably pulled back in when his frowning murmurs at the sound that didn’t strike him as necessarily grating. “Do you think there’s some sort of… symbolism in any of this…...”

The reflection of their earlier idle talk resurfaces with a thoughtful hum.

“Hmmm… That’s a good question actually.”

Truthfully the room did seem to actually know them to some degree even if so far fairly surface level, but it having struck more than coincidences threw her into full intrigue, a finger tapping out of sync against her chin as she wandered to the middle of the stage.

“Well this is clearly some sort of party scene… Maybe it has to do with being outside our comfort zone; Like there’s stuff we’re familiar with, like you’ve got the music and food, but then there’s this sort of sense that… That sort of feeling that you just want to go home, you know? Since there’s a clock that constantly tells you the time and a chair maybe someone would want to sit on instead of moving around.” Her arms then drop to the side with a humored aside. “Or this actually is some kind of Hell and we’re not supposed to fall for temptation or something like that, either one.”

His brows furrow as he sinks a little more. Well he could definitely believe that latter just from the piano alone, though that only raised more questions as to what they’d done to end up in that kind of place to begin with, or when they were going to be able to leave for that matter.

“The last version of the room ended up changing after we did something; Maybe we have to keep choosing the correct options until we can find our way out.”

“Oh, good idea.” Her owl eyes take to immediately assessing their next course of action. “Okay, that will probably get us killed. Don’t really know what the chair would do but kind of don’t want to see how that could go wrong. Hmmm… I wonder if...” She moves her examination along the clock’s height, souring when nothing out of the ordinary revealed itself before swiveling away again. “Guess that leaves the record player. Maybe we’re supposed to shut it off?”

Soul ponders this as he also has to consciously pull his hand out of him having started chewing his nails. “Last time changed when we played along with it, I’m not sure if trying to shut it down is a good idea.”

He then tenses up at how much her eyes immediately light up.

“Oh we should dance!”

His entire being immediately scrunches into itself.

“Oh come on; I showed you how to play Chess, you can show me how to dance! I know you’re way better at it than I am, anyway.”

One long drawn out sigh later, he reluctantly admits that so far that logic is safest and most promising thing they have to work on, a timid arm extended her way once he’d slowly trudged to the center of the floor. “Here...”

Not even his pout could remain sure of itself as she bounded up and eagerly accepted his invitation, fitting right into place in a way that drew his grin out helplessly.

“Okay so I assume you know how legs work, but uh… First basic step goes somethin’ like this…...” The gears in his head gnash wildly over trying to figure out how one condenses a lifetime ago of formality into a single comprehendible list until they’re suddenly knocked out of alignment, his balance startling back when her attempt to match his movement puts her too close too fast. He brushes it off with a laugh while straightening them out to try again.

“Okay, uhhh...” And then clears his throat to reset his posture. “Yeah I don’t think I can explain it the same way you can. I’ll try to make sure you can follow along, but uh...” He can’t resist loosening up a chuckle at how serious her face said she wanted to take this.

“Just think of it like how we partner – Let me um… be your Meister right now.”

“Got it.”

With a deep breath, he takes a basic step, then another to feel for the general movement. Slowly he pulls her along, letting her familiarize with the pattern, before he eases into bringing them closer to the beat of the current song, falling into the rhythm that he made sure not to get swept away in as long as she was there to keep up with him.

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The water swayed along with his feet, soon slowing to an end when he reached the chamber where she stood ahead of him. His eyes fell affixed to objects she revealed in hand as she turned:

One constantly shifted into itself while the other pulsed outward, both glowing mysteriously and mesmerizing enough to hold him at bay, still even while she promptly addressed him.

“These are it – We finally have both keys to unlock an end to this madness.”

And him the third…

He finally breaks away back to her sober gaze, resuming his trek toward the stone platform with a sullen breath. “You’re truly certain this will end in our good favour?”

“You have my faith. I’ve studied extensively enough to understand the process and as long as we remain together we should be able to control the outcome how we desire it.” His footsteps pause right in front of the steps up. “Are you truly prepared to walk this path with me?”

The stone answers quietly beneath his climb, gentle fingertips meeting her knuckles as their eyes locked, tender and understanding yet firm in resolve.

“My oath is sworn unbroken.”

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Part 4 – Stagnation

Click.

Their steps cease when the song comes to an end, the needle’s aimless wandering soon fading into silence while the room shifts away again.

This time it appeared much simpler yet more abstract: The scene laid barren except for two standing chairs, facing both opposite ends of each other and up against the walls, the floor of which contrasted both sides – red and green – in a spiral pattern that twirled directly into the center until neither were distinguishable. This color also ran up the surface of all sides but faded halfway into a muddled shadowy ceiling, which consequently revealed the lighting to now originate from an ornate crystal chandelier that was notably hanging somewhat precariously.

Enough to fall and hurt someone if it was swayed too much, Soul reckoned.

Maka pulls away, gears visibly turning in her eyes quick to contemplate their new puzzle, frowning as she eventually hazards at its reasoning.

“Duality.”

“Hm?” It was a hum less about it making sense and more for prodding her train of thought.

“Conflicting viewpoints – There’s two opposite sides facing away from each other, but eventually they work around each other until they meet in the middle.”

That definitely seemed clear enough to be true, but there was still a clue lacking enough to bring his thumb over the corner of his mouth in pondering. “So what does that mean for us?”

Her frown continues twofold as she continues working through it before bringing him along.

“The first room we went ‘against each other’ while the second room we ‘worked together’, so for this room...” She perks up when a dot connects. “We come together as equals, like Resonance!”

He hums his agreement to that conclusion. “You showed me something, I showed you something, so now we have to show each other something?”

“Yep!”

A smile twitches up at her triumph before it lowers again, thoughtful as his glance flicks around briefly. “...So what exactly do we have to show each other?”

That was actually a very good question, one that quieted her again while it became mutually obvious that unlike the previous two iterations there wasn’t nearly as much to do here (aside from sitting and staring straight at a wall, but Soul wasn’t too keen on that even if his legs started to want to convince him otherwise), and as she moved along reassessing either side her face eventually lit up with her hands clapped.

“Oh, I know – Here, you stand over by the green side!” He hesitates a moment until her persistence in the matter slowly shuffles him over to the other chair, Maka then standing proudly opposite and eager to give instruction.

“It’s like you said when we were dancing: you took the perspective of being a Meister, and now I’ll take the viewpoint of being a Weapon before we meet in the middle as partners!”

His brows furrow, staring up at the chandelier with unease over having to be anywhere beneath it, but he complies for lacking any other possible solutions. “So we both just kinda pretend to be each other’s roles?”

“Yeah – Maybe we can take steps forward when we feel like we get the hang of it so that we’re both ready at our own pace.” Soul nods as her face then slips into full concentration, a sigh quietly puffed out while he closes his eyes to focus too.

A Meister… Not too different from being a Weapon in that they were two halves working towards the same goal, but the way both went at it from separate angles as a default.

He had to eat souls, she did the legwork to fight for those souls, and now… he has to picture what it’d feel like if it were the other way around.

Soul’s spine straightens at the sound of her foot shuffling.

He doesn’t have perception or a special wavelength, but most people don’t. He also doesn’t move as quickly as she does, but that’s something that he could probably work on if he wanted… Besides, he works better thinking quickly and figuring things out on the fly, more of a backseat “observe and adapt” kinda guy than he prefers to admit.

Though that does make him wonder what would make him decide to pursue being a Meister to begin with……

Soul meanders forward a little when her steps continue.

Would it be for the same reason he left as a Weapon? Would he have even considered that as a possibility, taken his life in another direction even if it wasn’t sparked from an existing passion?

...Would he still be willing to defend her life even if he had nothing to do it with?

Soul peeks out at her steady approach toward the spiral’s center.

Of course he would, she’s his partner, he’d do everything he could to keep her safe even if it meant risking himself, Weapon or not. The scar embedded across his chest was a reminder of that, one that would remain for the rest of his life… But would he do it again?

Soul watches her progress.

Would he still take the hit for her if he was on the other end? Would he have even gone into that fight if he’d known the danger that they were in?

Would they have even been there to begin with if it’d been a different night?

Soul stares directly at the crystals hanging directly above her head.

Could he have done something to prevent it in the first place?

“That doesn’t look safe.”

Maka looks at him confused, but all he can see is the light dropping and shattering her. “The chandelier, it looks like it’s going to fall any minute.”

“Oh.” Threat swayed in his gut as she simply gazed upward, and especially when her returned smile defied all risk. “I think it looks sturdy enough – Here, you should see it with me. I can jump out of the way if it starts moving.”

He wanted to shout, rebel against the impending dread and get her away from the looming danger as quickly as possible, yet timidly he walked to take her hand, trust peering up at a newfound view unfolding above him.

The light reflected through all the individual crystals, bringing each one to life against the dark horizon, like stars shining through a midnight sky. In the middle of course was the moon, so radiant it formed a complete circle with its luminescent shards now its crowning petals.

It was… rather pretty, actually.

Her fingers felt warm in between his, her eyes illuminated brilliantly even if it was lit with a bit of I told you so, though genuinely he could sense it was more for getting to share the experience than anything.

He sighs out an awkward show of teeth, smile inevitably mirroring hers while a glint of curiosity eventually rekindled. “So, do you remember what you were wanting to ask me?”

A stammer drops his jaw and flusters it helplessly as his mind proceeds to replay through everything again.

Maybe in truth he always did have that question in the back of his head, but maybe it isn’t one he ever needed to ask. She was always there for him, ready to take his hand whenever the moment needed it, and him… Maybe he just worries too much.

Despite everything she really was strong. Maybe that’s what really made them partners.

“Oh, uh...” Soul loosens out a goofy little chuckle before lifting it away back to the ceiling, deciding it was probably better to just enjoy what good did manage to come from all this nothing nonsense.

“Ah, not really…...”

But the questions still remained.

.

His face finally emerges out of the red hot liquid, lungs gasping desperately as if the engulfing heat crushing his body was soaking right into his chest.

This… This isn’t……

Metallic sting blurs his vision, but even before he fights to free his eyes open he already sinks in the weight of the surrounding sea, a seemingly bottomless chasm of blood. The worst part is it wasn’t his. The best part is it’s everyone else’s.

His face contorts through several wild emotions until it collapses into laughter at how comforting it actually is.

He slips back into submersion while laughing and laughs at how great it would be if they all joined him.

.

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Part 5 – Regret

Their fingers tense together when the light flickers yet again, fading into a fixture much more dim and plain. The dark ceiling mellows into a dull grey, which fell over the rest of the walls except for the rust spread along the floor slightly over them, the odd monotony only noticeably broken by the frequent smears and splotches of pitch black ink seemingly coated by someone’s haphazard wandering.

Soul didn’t like this room.

The two remain in hand even while this shift leaves both unsettled before an interrupting echo of bare footsteps break them apart, his arm naturally extended in front of her to prepare guarding her from their unexpected visitor.

It was Soul. It also wasn’t: He wore casually untidy clothes different from him, but the main thing that set them apart was his stare, hollow yet wide as if he didn’t have lids while a smile wore halfheartedly on his open lips.

It wasn’t necessarily with hostility but it was… off, in every way imaginable.

This was especially true as he then followed up with digging his fingertips into the edges of his teeth, running the dark ooze along the end of his tongue until it all fell to the side, Soul’s entire body recoiling into disgust while more ink dripped onto the unclean floor.

And then it spoke.

“Look who just showed up.”

His voice coming out of that face was low and raspy, his tone accusatory and straight to the point as he stood his ground. “Who the hell are you?”

It only laughed.

“Do you think you’re the main character or somethin’? That you can’t feel pain? That I couldn’t just beat the shit out of you and let you watch her die? Do you really think you’re fuckin’ invincible or some shit?”

The stammer caught in his throat was quickly interrupted by Maka shouting beside him. “What do you want with us?!”

“Could you actually kill him if you needed to? Would you watch him die if you had to?” They both shuffled back as it began approaching.

“Did you really believe your actions don’t have consequences?”

.

Soul watches as the pitch black rushes toward him.

Soul watches as his chest tears wide open.

Soul watches as molten flesh rains from his skin.

Soul watches as his body melts into the floor.

Soul hears a scream as he can no longer gasp out from his crushed lungs.

Soul’s back slams into something, air unable to pass in or out as his sneer continues toward him.

“Do you really want to die for her? Do you actually want to keep feeling that pain?” He locks up when a hand rams right next to his head, trapping laughter nearly broken into screaming. “You want to be ripped open again?! You want another scar matching the other way, or fuck it you can just tear all of it off and start all the fuck over again!! Maybe if you keep getting hurt enough you can finally get it through your thick fucking skull just how mu– ”

Force blurs by too fast for him to understand what it was, but eventually he registers it as Maka pinning him to the ground before her fist collides with his face, a confusing calm numbing into passive silence when she just… keeps going.

Every hit was struck with her full weight, repetition until black kept splattering out and yelling, wailing even, rang indecipherably through the stiff air, continuously reverberating against the cracking mush even when it’d long stopped moving. Eventually, her chest only heaved, quieted except for a choke he then identified as sobbing, shaking as she soon lifted herself and slowly turned with a whine leaking out from underneath the mess of ink and tears.

“I’m sorry...”

He remained motionless while her posture tightened and started curling into itself.

“I’m sorry… I’m sorry…...”

He should do something. Say something, walk to her, move her away from the body.

But he did nothing.

Felt nothing, didn’t know what to feel or do or say, just watched her face drip and sounds shaking her downward before a fit of chuckling snaps them both back.

The body began lifting up, head pulleying from some invisible string while darkness spilled out where his face had been onto its clothes, painting all of it black as his voice hollered out undeterred.

“Damn girl, you really just shot past Wrath and dropped straight into Violence!”

Boisterous cackling spasms from the spew of ebony as it then erupts into dozens of pale wings, all writhing and coveting the front of its head while its back burst and sprayed out into four greater wings, two black, two red. Eyes of dark rings and crimson split open upon their feathers, staring and dripping more ink onto the pool now consuming the flooring.

Fear, dread coiled around his chest, steps quickly unsteady when the wall scoops him up and slams a cage door over him, silver bars to match the golden cage now also surrounding her.

“Maka!”

There was no time for even a response, the body hopping up on top of his imprisonment for its weight to swiftly plunge him into the abyss with a howl.

“Going dooooown!!”

He barely catches the chain lifting her up as fast as he descended, his stomach churning with nothing to grab onto while he plummeted, faster and faster through the darkness, until suddenly the stop jars him, leaving his side crashed into the now swaying cage.

It didn’t take him long to realize he was currently being suspended right over a sea of red, the heat and stench no doubt being blood, pooled in a horizonless dark chasm that made him recoil before his voice resumes its tune.

“So, did you really want to die for her?”

His head whips up to his body still crouching over him, rage now finally reaching its boiling point. “Is there really something so wrong with wanting to protect her?!”

“No, you still don’t get it. Let me spell it out for you then:”

.

.

Part 6 – Isolation

“You’re all alone now.”

Fingers grip over the bars as it crawls halfway down, looming over him upside-down with innumerable white feathers squirming through the gaps.

“You swore to dying for her. Kept carrying all the weight of the pain so she wouldn’t feel hurt.” Its large wings outstretch, eyes crying crimson that dripped meaninglessly into the rest of it. “This is your consequence.”

His laugh then echoed against the metal as it climbed back up to the cage’s chain.

“I’m going to leave you now and let you wallow in it, all to yourself just like you wanted.”

The cage sways a little more while its hands and feet pull it along the chain’s length, Soul’s palms slamming into the sides while shooting upright. “He- Hey!”

It continued making its way up until eventually it faded into the obscurity of the shadow above,  the silence soon deafening even when his back landed into the bars again, sliding and curling his chest against his knees with his arms limping around them. Despite the heat steaming from below, he only felt cold, empty, and… alone.

A sniffle trembles his shoulders, breath unsteady while his arms coil in tighter to hold it in place. His eyes wander through the abyss and are offered nothing in return, nothing left for him but the memories and his words.

Upon reflecting, the blood directly in front of his view begins to bubble, raising into a mirror image who’s head just barely left the surface.

His wild hair floated and dragged onto his pale face, draping around his dark round eyes in a way that gave more resemblance to a fish, especially when the surrounding pool streamed out of its mouth, freeing out a soft murmuring hoarseness.

“Hey, you seem lost.”

Soul’s lungs stuttered before finally cracking his voice out. “Yeah…...”

“Yeah, me too.”

He blinks at him for awhile before chiming in again.

“What’re you thinkin’ about?”

Soul swallows the pressure still sitting in his throat, a sigh tumbling out while meekly looking away. “I dunno, I guess… I just wanted to keep Maka safe because that’s what I’m supposed to do, but now it’s like I wasn’t supposed to, or I’m doing it wrong or something……...”

“You care about her a lot though, right?”

Soul nods. “...Yeah, but… I think I hurt her…...” One long breath shudders out from his sniff. “...Not, not physically but, I think I hurt her from… not talking about it…… Like how much it still hurts even though I ignore it and just keep saying I’ll keep getting hurt for her………...”

“Not all acts of good are wise, and not all acts of evil are foolish, but still we should strive to be the best that we can be.”

Soul peers up at his light smile.

“I don’t think it was really your fault. You just did what you thought was best and sometimes there’s no real clear answer, especially when it’s something you’ve never really dealt with before.”

He watches him for another moment, smile continuing.

“It’s never too late, by the way. You can ask her about it yourself if you still want to.”

Soul slowly perks up, even if unsteady. “...How? I’m still locked down here...”

“You care a lot about Maka’s pain, but are you willing to try caring for your pain too?”

Soul pauses, until eventually, he nods again.

“Then let me help open the door for you. You just have to get up top and start climbing.”

Out of the blood then emerges arms upon arms of pale hands, countless fingers reaching and grabbing the cage steady before a few stray limbs pull the side bars away.

Soul swallows, cautious, but soon lifting himself up and crouching through the doorway to hang against the other side, feet balancing onto a couple palms that carefully bring him level enough to the roof for him to now stand on top of it. His grip clings tightly to the chain’s links, tense as he looks back at his unmoving reflection one last time.

“Just keep climbing and don’t let go!”

And with a deep breath, he begins his ascent, steadily working his way up, one step at a time.

.

.

Part 7 – Perseverance

His hands interchanged their grip around the chain as he persisted his journey upward, his feet dutifully following each motion while passing onto each stair step. It was a long hall, dull in a truly neutral grey, inclined so extensively that the horizon remained consistently vague.

The weight of the climb already dragged on him. Exhaustion ached his body, weakened his stride under the uncertainty of any visible end. Made his arms plead this was good enough, his legs beg that it wasn’t worth it, but he knew that she would have tried to her fullest and that she’d want him to succeed too, so he carried on.

Beside his climbing this hall appeared just spacious enough to be able to host another person next to him, bringing along its reminder that he was traveling solo. A twinge of burning sparked from it, twisting over how he was left enduring this, but he smothered it in knowing she would gladly extend her hand for him if she was here and settled into gratitude, simply hoping she is safe.

Yet that spark reinvigorated itself much more furiously, a loathing now falling directly upon himself. Maybe this fate truly was deserved, a punishment for his consequences being truly just deserts. Though it soon tempers when memories wash back in, both of her lament despite best intentions and the newfound promise he’d sworn, mellowing him into holding for the chance to make things right again.

...But does it even matter? Would anything actually change in the end, if there even is an end to this? Scars heal on their own, don’t they? What difference does it make between just getting over it and throwing the pain at someone else…… But… The pain wasn’t just physical. He was terrified, still scared it could happen again, happen to her, and the darkness that came with it never left his head. That stuff doesn’t just go away, even if you bury it. And seeing how she still reached for him and wanted to be at his side despite the hurt inflicted on her, maybe she… Maybe it’ll be okay, if she helps him unearth it, even just at his own pace.

His footsteps lightened and fueled his hastening, determination empowering as a feeling then squirmed in his chest. It murmurs to him that they’d been happier when he kept the question to himself, yet he reminded it of how she was the one who asked him again first. When it pointed toward his controlling worry, stubbornly fighting her meeting in the middle, he counters that even with their different views she still believed in him trusting her, and the weight of his body lifted at the experiences they can still share together.

The feeling began gnawing on him, told him that he was just using her for his own gain. Yet he stood his ground, firm in their efforts being mutual while assured that neither of them will leave each other behind, and his legs raised him higher than ever at the goals they can still both work for.

And finally it seethed, demanded that she’s already rejected his selfishness. And he contented, knowing that she’ll be waiting for him the same way he would for her. Because they’re partners, and that’s what partners do, so his arms kept reaching with greater fervor at the connection they can still call theirs.

Calm eased through him, the feeling quieted as it simply asked what it was he truly wanted.

He just wanted to be with her again.

Suddenly the hallway begins to shimmer, that monotony reflecting brilliantly, almost blinding, as pure light engulfed everything surrounding him. Hope hurried his ascent, hands outstretched until they latch onto a much sturdier link, turning that light red as he pushes past it and through the heavy curtains where his eyes soon adjusted to a familiar shade of reds and shadows.

The Black Room.

To his relief, the first thing he notices is Maka – black dress swishing around her as she shot up from the lone chair sitting aways from the curtain.

“Soul!”

Waves of emotion float a smile on up until it quickly sinks when he also registers the noise, head turning beyond the fabric to watch another version of himself – a black suit with a face obscured by long bangs, swaying as it played that dark piano in a tune he immediately recognized. Soul looks back at her pouting.

“He’s been playing Für Elise nonstop for several times in a row now.”

The way she huffed that sentence out made him want to laugh, instead only blinking while deciding to ask the more important question in any case. “Are you doing okay though?”

“Aside from having this song engrained into my soul, yeah.”

He snickers at her wryness before it softens up considerably.

“What about you – Are you okay?”

His breath tenses up, gut reaction stuttering it until it jolts when a harsh stray note drops the room into stiff silence, that other self now looming his direction like a weeping willow with roots of midnight judgement. Soul swallows, then shutting the door behind him as he finally takes a step forward, voice meek.

“...No.”

Maka stills, tone unchanged but remaining gentle. “Do you want to talk about it?”

“Not really...” He’s quick to follow up his mutter with a sharp sigh. “...but I need to ask you.”

She moves forward a few paces slowly, patiently awaiting as he spends a moment composing himself, and eventually he forces the words out.

“Do you…...” One breath at a time.

“Do you hate me?”

Her brows furrow, confused. “Hate you?”

“Are you mad at me. For getting hurt… and… not talking about it…… acting like it never happened, and just… saying I’ll keep getting hurt, even though……...” His chest shudders, constricted. “...it still hurts…...”

She takes a deep steady inhale, thinking, his eyes vulnerable while she answers calmly.

“No, I’m not mad. I’m frustrated, but I’m frustrated about a lot of things; I’m frustrated that you got hurt, and I’m frustrated because I feel like I could have done better, but I’m not mad at you. It’s not your fault.”

The constriction winds up his throat and her sigh lifts, not quite into a smile, just something positive.

“I genuinely appreciate that you’re still here, and that you’re being open with me. It means a lot and...” Her body audibly tenses. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry that you’re hurting.”

Maka watches his breath sway uneven, teetering until he timidly walks toward her. He can’t say for certain when those old Black Room clothes slipped onto him but that was never surprising, fingers gripping along the seams of his slacks like a child shaming away from its parent’s imminent disappointment as he closed their distance, Soul now standing only a few feet away.

His stance wobbles, aches at her heavy exhale, and finally the weight truly collapses him, slumping onto her shoulder as the air all chokes out.

“I’m so scared. I’m so afraid of you getting hurt and I can’t do anything about it. I’m fucking terrified I’m going to lose control and one day you’re going to end up dead because of me.” Heat sputters from his chest even under the warmth of their arms embracing closer. “I hate that I’m not as strong as you are. I hate that I keep making you feel like shit because I can’t deal with being weak. I hate this stupid fucking curse and having a demon in my head all the time that keeps telling me it’s my fault you’re going to get hurt next.”

Moisture leaks down from his face but he doesn’t care, just holds onto her more, never wants to let go while sobs continue pouring out.

“It hurts so much. My scar never stops aching and I try to forget about it and hope it just goes away. I keep having nightmares over and over again about when it happened and it happening to you and me hurting you, and it… it fucking sucks. I wish it would stop but I don’t tell you about it because I know you blame yourself, I know you think you’re the reason I got hurt, but you’re not. You didn’t do this to me, life just fucked us over and...”

His voice was loud, ugly, and a mess, but it was his. It was both of theirs.

“...It’s not fair. It’s not fair Maka.”

All he could do was cry, both of them. Just finally let out all the pain he’d been carrying for far too long now, let go of the burden he tried to keep shouldered on his own, and let her help lift the weight that had sunken his chest away from hers.

In that moment their grief was deeply shared, and his shadow, now moving back to whence it came, finally brought that fallboard to its close.

.

.

Part 8 – Resolve

Soul scoots the piano bench out a little before taking a seat away from the instrument behind him.

It was a wonder they even managed to clean the mess from their faces, but he was feeling tons better now, and judging by how she comfortably sat next to him it seemed she felt the same way. He wasn’t sure where that other version of him went, hadn’t seen when it’d even left, but that too was a welcome change as they simply got to have the room to themselves for the time being. And with a nice, calm breath of relief, quietly his voice lifts up to her again with a timid glance.

“Thank you, for um… listening to me.”

Maka welcomes it with her own lighthearted smile. “Hey, you know I’m here for you when you need it – I really am glad you came to talk to me about it.” She then laughs aside a little. “I think we definitely both needed this, anyway.”

He follows, albeit weakly. “Yeah, sorry, I just…… It’s not easy, um… talking about this kinda stuff...” And smirks awkwardly. “Sorry for being kind’ve a jackass about it.”

“Hey, it’s okay, I get it. It’s been hard to deal with, but you know… I’m proud of you, for reaching out. I know it takes a lot of strength to do that.”

Their eyes remain locked, stammer caught in his throat all over again until he gives it up, gaze averted down to his fingers aimlessly fidgeting with themselves even when his voice eventually squirms its way out, quiet but genuine. “Thank you.”

The two then simply wallow in each other’s company, thoughts just drifting through his hands before deciding it’d be okay to keep freeing them up.

“So, um… How did you end up here?” He gestures vaguely around the room to clarify. “Like nothing bad happened before I got here?”

“Oh, no I just...” She thinks briefly, answer facing the chair she’d first been waiting in.

“He said I was free to go, but I didn’t want to leave you here so I just waited for you to come back since I knew you would.”

A laugh returns over to him, shining through all uncertainties. “Pretty sure he was trying to get me to leave though.”

Soul chuckles lightly, soaking in both the warmth of her mirth and lighting curiosity, then willingly indulging it to lean more into its comfort.

“Yeah, it was pretty weird down there, but uh… Basically I promised I’d try to care about myself more, and I climbed up for awhile to get here. It definitely kinda sucked but um...”

He looks up to her with full sincerity.

“...It was a question I needed to ask you.”

And Maka extends her full appreciation in return.

“That’s good, I’m glad you made it out.”

Though his face does become a bit restless when a gentle humour makes her start to shy away. “...I do feel a little embarrassed though now that I know what the question was actually about.”

He scrunches. “...What did you think it was about?”

More laughter shoots out while she flutters about nervously.

“Well y’know… You suddenly pulling me aside into an empty room after you looked like you really wanted something all day, and I just… I don’t know.” The emphasis of her hands flopping down mesmerizes him, leaving the gears in his head slowly turning until they begin speeding up and contorting his expression through several unexplainable emotions before she cuts it off, huffing.

“Look: Just because I can see your soul doesn’t mean I know what you’re actually thinking half the time.” Huff then muttering into a pout. “Boys are weird, okay?”

This finally breaks him, uproarious cackling shaking haphazardly before he whips back enthusiastically. “Girls are also weird!”

“They’re all weird: People are weird.”

The deadpan quickly descends him further and drags her along with him, taking him a solid good minute to catch his breath for when he eventually meets her again, voice softened despite his sharp grin.

“You really are my best friend, though.”

He soon hesitates, fingers back to fidgeting with the seam. “...No offense to everyone else, obviously, you’re just um… You’re the coolest person I know and I genuinely appreciate you being there for me.” And he then faces her in complete earnest. “I want to care about both of us.”

So she truly meets him in the middle. “We both can.”

Their shared admiration beams while he extends his hand, her gladly taking it even before he asks.

“Partners?”

“Partners.”

Newly kindled hope and determination sparks up from within the bond of their resolve, igniting Soul’s sharkiest grin and Maka’s telltale smirk, which soon slips into something unexpectedly casual. “Hey do you wanna go get ice cream?”

He snorts. “Yeah, y’know what I’ve had enough of this room – We can keep moving forward together but who says we can’t also live life how we want too you know?”

“Live life and fuck Medusa.”

The two begin to stand up as he nods in full agreement. “Fuck Medusa.”

And as he shambles up onto his own two feet, hand firmly in hand, they both walk together side by side across those old checker tiles and eagerly chatter all through the exit, finally finding peace in closing that door shut.

.

Gently he picked the teacup up, letting the aroma drift in before taking a nice sip proper.

Ah, what a pleasant blend.

Quite well done if he says so himself, pairs excellently with the early morning view upon this balcony. A crisp delicate flavour to match a cool yet refreshing sunrise, to which the sun itself greets the day already hard at work.

Yes, this shall be a good day indeed.

He takes another fine sip, most certainly pleased with himself on its taste. Two creams, two sugars.

A good blend always needs a good balance in sweetness, though it was no lie he tended to be a bit more indulgent than most. Perhaps he’ll dare to make a visit today, but who would he be fooling to say he doesn’t make this consideration every day…

He sets the teacup onto its platter, soft clatter then reaching the table he seats at before his eloquent voice finally comes to life.

“I bet you’re wondering where the probable ruse lies, if perhaps it were all a dream or such events holds no bearing beyond the imagination.”

He lifts his cane resting faithfully by his side to give it a graceful twirl, suddenly halting to face its head up for a grand emphasis.

“Fool! The story was but in twain; It happened long ago, you see.”

The end is then swiftly brought upon the floor, like a gavel signifying its supreme judgement.

“Well done, the two you so followed did not meet lips. I’m sure such a challenge was quite trialing, but the reward of your efforts must be well worthwhile. Perhaps you’ve gained greater wisdom for further endeavors, even.”

With a flick of his wrist his magnificent hat tips, parting with a gentleman’s last word.

“And so it would appear our time together now comes to a close, but fret not – We may meet again if you so wish. Always more stories to tell, more secrets to unveil… Some possibly even already upon the horizon, hm.

Until then: fare thee well!”

[kittyprincessofcats]

She-Ra S5 E08 - Shot in the Dark

There might be spoilers for the rest of the season in this post!

I absolutely LOVE this episode, and at first, I couldn’t really put my finger on why I liked it that much. And then Noelle tweeted this:

And yeah, that’s what it boils down to. This is the first *happy* Catra episode since... basically since “Once Upon a Time in the Waste” - and back then, the happiness didn’t last long.

(I also just think that story of AJ being so worried about Catra and Noelle reassuring her with every script is so adorable. I love to see how much they all care about these characters.)

Now let’s get into the episode!

- “Why does space hate me so much?” Yeah Glimmer, as I’ve said before, your powers don’t work in space because otherwise things would be way too easy and this show would be over way too quickly.

- “So, your plan is to, what? Ram through an armada of ships?” “No! ...Maybe!” 😂 I love Adora.

- The way Catra’s hands are shaking when she tells Adora they’re going to get caught... oh, baby 😢. And how Adora suddenly looks so worried... gosh, these two.

- Catra and Adora playfully arguing over whether or not Catra ‘defeated’ them in the past is so cute. I love this kind of ‘former enemies’ bickering and it’s why I was so glad they didn’t wait until the very end of the show to redeem Catra.

Bow: “Adora, Catra’s right.”

[Everyone’s eyes go wide.]

Bow: ... “That felt weird to say.”

😂 Brilliant. Absolutely brilliant. Bring on all the ‘former enemies’ bickering, please!

- So, is this just because Wrong Hordak’s “brains were scrambled”, as Bow put it, or do all the clones randomly blurt out that Horde Prime has a weakness whenever they hear someone ask about it? I’m going to assume it’s the former. Also, the way he keeps blurting out more and then denying that Krytis exists is super funny.

- I like how they set Krytis up before with Catra having visions of it back in Taking Control - still pretty convenient that just hearing the name lets her make the connection, but I’ll take it. (Is it meant to be some lingering effect of being connected to the hivemind that she’s having visions of it again now, or is it just her remembering what she saw before?)

- I love the detail that Darla’s information on Krytis is locked and they need administrator clearance to access it. Shows again that the First Ones aren’t that different from Horde Prime - they were also ashamed of their failure to conquer Krytis and tried to hide the information on it.

- “In- In- In- Incorrect. It is located nowhere, because it does not exist, because Lord Prime destroyed it.” I honestly think this line should be a meme. When you want to hide something from someone (but you know it does exist), just quote that exact line (kind of like “There is no war in Ba Sing Se”). I once said it to my sisters when they asked about certain fanfics I wrote as a teenager. (“Nope, they are located nowhere, because they do not exist, because Lord Prime destroyed them.”)

- Changes in the opening: Micah, Spinnerella, Scorpia and Mermista are now standing mind-controlled around the Heart of Etheria in the villains’ shot. They’re also all missing from the final heroes’ card. In that final shot, Perfuma and Sea-Hawk both look sad now, and Netossa looks angry.

- Catra touching her neck when she sees the spire on Krytis... 😢. I’m here for the angst, but I also just need Catra to get lots of love and comfort after everything she’s been through.

- Can we talk about how absolutely ADORABLE her space suit is, though? Bow is absolutely right to coo over those ears. And when she tries to take it off with her foot? And Adora laughs about it? And Catra smiles when she sees her laugh? ❤️❤️❤️

- Wrong Hordak still denying that Krytis exists while currently being on Krytis is absolutely hilarious to me. It reminds me of flat-earthers or anti-vaxxers, or people who try to deny Covid exists (while others are currently dying from Covid) - not that any of those are funny, of course. I just mean that wrong Hordak nicely demonstrates how ridiculous they can sound.

- Catra calling out the Best Friend Squad on how dumb their plan is and then reacting with “Honestly, what did I expect?” is absolutely iconic. They really were missing her as the team’s braincell all along.

- Bow and Glimmer teasing Catra about her “first mission”, Catra grumbling that she’s going to kill Adora’s friends, Adora responding with a really calm “Please don’t” - everything about this is perfect. 🤣

- Also, small detail, but I love how Catra has a hard time walking in her spacesuit because she’s not used to wearing shoes.

- The remaining rebels looking around the destroyed camp is really sad. Frosta immediately trapping Castaspella in ice and checking her neck is great, though. That’s what they should have been doing all along. Why didn’t they also check Shadow Weaver’s neck, though? I know she’s intimidating and all, but there was no way of knowing if she’s chipped.

- “How did the rebellion lose so many of our finest members and yet we’re still stuck with you?” Castaspella’s asking the real questions! I like how literally no one in the rebellion likes Shadow Weaver. (Though honestly, I’m also glad she’s not chipped. Imagine how hard fighting a chipped Shadow Weaver would have been.)

- “But if you try anything, I won’t hesitate to strike you down.” Castaspella said ‘I won’t hesitate, b*tch!’

- Every single part of Wrong Hordak’s existential crisis (and Entrapta’s handling of it) is absolutely hilarious. I’m not going to quote all of it here, but pretty much every line of it is comedy gold. My favourite moment is probably “It seems Wrong Hordak has begun to question the meaning of life” (and everyone’s annoyed expressions at his crying) 😂😂. (On a more serious note, though: As much as it’s played for laughs, Wrong Hordak turning his entire worldview around in such a short amount of time is also pretty epic.)

- Catra just cutting through that door - damn, she’s strong! And I love Adora’s blush! (Yeah, the door was probably just an illusion, but my point still stands. She’s at least strong enough that it doesn’t seem completely weird that she'd be able to just cut through a door like that.)

- “You have an arrow that turns into a magnifying glass? I can’t believe we were losing to you guys.” 🤣🤣 Catra realizing the people she was fighting are actually idiots will never not be funny.

- It goes hand in hand with Bow realizing Catra is actually a cute kitty with an adorable sneeze. Good stuff. And the way her tail gets fluffy when she insists she’s not cute? D’awww. (Bow saying “The angrier you get, the cuter you are” reminded me of that scene in Steven Universe where Peridot loses her limb-enhances at the beginning of her redemption arc and Steven calls her cute and “an angry little slice of pie”.)

- Castaspella’s cape getting stuck in tree branches and the like is pretty funny, ngl. This is why Edna Mode said “No capes”.

- Shadow Weaver saying that her gifts are “far subtler” than mind-control is very fitting. Her thing is manipulation, after all. She doesn’t need to control people’s minds when she can just manipulate them and raise them in a way that’ll make them do what she wants. It’s scarier than mind-control in a way because it’s far more realistic. Mind-control doesn’t exist in real life, but manipulative parents (or just manipulative people) who will mess someone up emotionally? Very realistic.

- I like that you can tell that something’s off about Entrapta’s voice this time if you pay attention to it.

- “Seriously? How have you guys stayed alive this long?” Yup, the people you were fighting are idiots and you’re the braincell of the team now, Catra.

- I love the creepy music when Entrapta tells them it’s the first time they’ve talked since the last floor.

- Also, I love how Catra’s first instinct is to just launch herself at Melog, even though you could tell she was terrified just a moment earlier.

- I really like the moment where Glimmer realizes there’s magic on Krytis, especially since she doesn’t have her other powers right now.

- Melog bonds with Catra because they have the same sneeze ❤️❤️

- “Are you... are you petting the thing that’s been trying to kill us?” I love this whole moment 😹. I also love how Adora is so protective of Catra and immediately yells “Get away from her!” when Melog seems to get angry.

Catra: “I’m sorry. I got angry. It’s something I’m working on.”

Adora [with sparkling eyes]: “Aww, you are?”

Catra: “Yes! Now can you please...” [deep breath] “Yes. I am.”

I love everything about this. Catra genuinely working on her anger issues, Adora being so touched about it (remember back in Taking Control where she wished that Catra would ‘at least try’?), Catra having to hold back her anger because she realized Melog responds to emotions - perfect. ❤️😂👍

- Catra is so sweet when she calms Melog down. And the moment where they form their bond is really nice.

- So, can Catra understand Melog because of their bond, or because they’re both cats? I’m assuming it’s because of their bond?

- Melog’s backstory is really sad. But Adora offering to take them to Etheria is a really sweet scene.

- I like the parallel between the Best Friend Squad realizing that magic is Horde Prime’s weakness (and that the only planet he ever failed to conquer had wild magic) and Shadow Weaver telling Castaspella that the First Ones weakened Etheria’s magic and they have to set it free.

- “Stop me if I try to take the power for myself.” I’m not sure how I feel about that line. I like how SPOP has very much written Shadow Weaver as ambiguous so far. She’s not a good or nice person by any means, but is she at least on the side of the good guys and really trying to help now or is she still only after her own selfish goals? I very much did not want Shadow Weaver to get any sort of redemption or forgiveness, and I’ve always interpreted her as still being power-hungry. So, I have mixed feelings about this line. I like that it canonically acknowledges that Shadow Weaver is still tempted by power and might actually try to take the magic for herself, but asking Castaspella to stop her if she tries makes her look more selfless and like she’s taking precautions against it. (But then again, could Castaspella even stop her if she tried? I’m pretty sure Shadow Weaver is the stronger one of the two. So, you could still read this as Shadow Weaver being a master manipulator and only saying this so Castaspella will feel more inclined to trust her and go along with her plan - while knowing full-well that she could easily defeat Castaspella if it ever actually came down to it.)

Glimmer: “So, just to make sure I get it - We’re going to go running through a Horde blockade while relying on the magic of a creature we just met?”

Catra: “That about sums it up, yes.”

You know what this means - Catra’s a part of the Squad now!

- “Punch it, Darla!” I still love that the ship’s name is Darla. Also, all of their expressions when they fly through the blockade should be a “draw the squad” meme.

- Catra holding Adora’s hand and getting embarassed about it ❤️❤️ (while Adora is dumb and doesn’t even notice).

- I did not expect us to get a Glitra cheek kiss this season, but I’m not complaining! Also, Catra complaining while Glimmer and Bow are hugging her is such a cat thing; I love it.

- “We made it. We’re home.” Correct me if I’m wrong, but I think this is actually the first episode this season that ends on a happy / hopeful note and not on some kind of cliffhanger. And I really like that. This is where the “space arc” of season 5 offically comes to and end and I’m glad it has its own little happy ending. (And as much as I like the final episodes of the season, the space arc is still probably my favourite half of it.)

I love this episode, mainly because of what it means for Catra. She’s finally happy, she saved the day, she’s bonding with Bow and Glimmer and constantly flirting with Adora, and she has an amazing therapy cat now! I loved all the bickering between her and the others and how she’s starting to open up to them. Also, Wrong Hordak was absolutely hilarious in this episode and I commend Entrapta for having the patience to deal with his existential crisis. This was a really nice way to wrap the space arc up and bring the Squad back to Etheria.

[Previous episode]   [Next episode]

[mainviper]

The new player card Reyna x Viper has my mind racing for answers and I love the theory you posted sooo....

Caaaan we get a one shot? 🥺

I'm so sorry it took me that long to answer @boxedyogurt , I tried to compensate working really hard on this one

Reyna x Viper Card • Poor Unfortunate Soul

°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°

Regina was only six years old. She loved ice cream, her teddy bear which she affectionately named "Tactic Bear", and dreamed with a better life. She was very loved by her parents and older sister, but when she was seven years old everything changed.

Pains started to appear, the girl was getting more aggressive and hardly slept anymore. Her eyes didn't focus and sometimes it was possible to see them completely purple, when she slept she had nightmares and several attempts to wake her and get her out of this terror failed, the girl had a superhuman strength and almost killed her family several times .

So, when her older sister discovered that there was a convention on radiants going on in the city, she didn't think twice about going after ANY answer that could help the girl. She arrived at that Congress, signed up with the justification of wanting to pursue a career in science, since it was her last year of high school she had a priority. Reyna didn't want to be a scientist, nor was she interested in the study of radianite, she just wanted to save her family.

So when she saw the lecture of a young scientist, perhaps five or six years older than she, on the technological advancement and security that contained the Kingdom Corporation's experiments, her naive teenage heart believed her.

And Sabine believed it too. When they signed the contract, her idea was that in a year the girl would be recovered.

She met little Regina and became enchanted with her, made her mission in the world to save the girl from all the evil she was experiencing. She also enjoyed talking to young Reyna, explaining to her what they were doing so that the girls' parents would understand. She let the teenager stay in her laboratory to calm her sister, played with the stuffed animals that the girl brought and tried her best to make it very clear that she was on their side. Always.

After a year, her colleague and best friend was relocated to help with the case. Frederick was an excellent chemist and his analyzes were essential to reduce the pain that the girl had throughout her body. Fred, Sabine and Reyna talked until after work to find solutions and discover the source, the root of the problem.

Two years passed, something was beginning to change in Regina. She grew and became quieter, more restrained, her eyes lost their brightness and became more wild. Control of her, when she went into “radiant mode” was gone and she was capable of anything. These tantrums were frequent when her sister was not around and when she felt threatened. Due to her extraordinary strength, she ended up attracting the attention of Kingdom's Weapon team.

Three years passed before the extension of Regina's power reached a level that no one foresaw. War agents made weekly visits, no matter how much Sabine loathed interruptions, they only increased.

Frederick was examining the girl, the pain was starting to return and it was necessary to have a blood test.

Reyna was on vacation from college, she was on her sister's side and saw one of the agents at the door. She didn't want to let go of her little sister's hand, only that the girl insisted that the man stay.

At this time when the two separated, the girls' parents began to view the sessions as routine, she was left under the tutelage of Sabine and Frederick, and while the two argued at the end of each "consultation", Regina made a friend. He constantly asked about her day, always praised her and said that she should not try to limit herself, that her radianite should be a source of pride. He even gave a plush sloth to give Tactic Bear some company, so the only thing Regina wanted to do was impress him.

Reyna's hands started to burn, the older sister asked the youngest to stop but the girl would not let go. Her eyes shone in a purple tone and her body started to hover in the air, Reyna cried begging for mercy. The girl screamed and all the windows on the floor shattered, the two fell together but the older one passed out.

Sabine ran to help them both, but saw that Reyna's case was serious, she took the matter in her own hands, asked for a full list of tests, did all the procedures to ensure that nothing but that black circle on the teen's shoulder was the result of the accident but there was one more thing: she didn't wake up. All the tests done showed that there was no change in Reyna but she didn't open her eyes, nor responded to any stimulus and no one, not even the young and brilliant doctor, would know why.

Frederick stayed with the other sister while Sabine ran and tried in vain to bring Reyna back to consciousness. The girl panicked, she started crying hysterically and said it was all her fault, that she just wanted to show what she was capable of, that she SERVED to help. The chemist's heart sank, he hugged her and comforted her.

That day was the start of a huge battle in Kingdom Co.

Sabine and Frederick against the entire War department, the two refused to give information and claimed that the patient couldn't be treated as a weapon of mass destruction, after all, she was a human being, just a girl who was very frightened and blamed herself for almost losing her sister.

Sabine became obsessed with finding a solution, she worked day and night in search of a way out and five years after they started treatment it finally came.

Regina was eleven, her sister was in a coma for two years and all she wanted most was to get the radianite out of her. Her parents agreed, they asked for this to be the case and against all their beliefs the war department wanted to help find a way to channel the girl's energy.

An intern presented a device, something capable of sucking the radianite from spaces without the need for mining.

It was a prototype. And Sabine hated it.

Of course, technological advancement was incredible in her eyes, but what she loathed most was the prospect of using it on a patient.

Every part of that idea she tried in vain to argue and bring risks to parents and staff. She knew that she had lost when even Frederick admitted that the idea was a good one, that it could work, almost choked him for saying that in front of the patient's family. Could it work? Yes. But it could go terribly wrong and then they would have lost not only Reyna but Regina.

Years of study, years of experiences to treat the girl and to understand how a radiant body worked would be thrown in the trash. She was almost deciphering, almost mapping the powers and body composition of young Regina completely. No one had any idea how important her research was for the development of new technologies that would help other patients and, well, she loved working with that family so much.

They explained the whole process to her.

She provided some data so that nothing could go wrong.

She promised to follow everything closely, Frederick said that he would put the girl himself and tie her in the extraction room.

When the day came, she went to visit Reyna. Not that she stopped, Sabine took care of the young woman almost every day, saw her grow old on that stretcher, confided things to her and even though she knew she couldn't be heard she continued. She apologized for not having any answers and for not finding another alternative for "hermanita". Intubated on that stretcher, the young woman seemed to show a peaceful expression almost every day, but her doctor noticed something different.

She seemed to suffer. The black circle on her shoulder took on a purple color at its edges.

A very bad feeling started, she called Frederick asking him to wait for her to be there to start.

"We are about to start, the team's agenda is very busy. I'll be in with Regina in five minutes."

Sabine ran off when she hung up the phone. The procedure was scheduled for two in the afternoon ... How much time did she spend with Reyna? How could she lose track of time in such a reckless way? She looked at her watch and yes, they were almost late. If she ran she would have time to get to the front building.

To this day, Viper doesn't know how she survived.

When she entered the elevator everything seemed normal, but when she leaved she was faced with the huge wreckage of an accident. People were running desperately everywhere, and she was incredulous walking, but then running to the center of everything. Her heart beated faster and faster as she approached, she fought the desperate tide of colleagues and patients trying to save themselves. Screams echoed, people agonized beside her, but she was hipnotizedd by the scene she encountered.

Regina, her little and beloved patient, was lying in the middle of everything. Her eyes were completely empty, she didn't move and as she touched the girl, Sabine realized that the worst had happened. There was no sign of Frederick or the girl's parents. In the midst of the rubble, she hugged the girl and cried. Trying in vain to bring her back, patting her face and calling her name.

Another explosion occurred in the building where she had left. Sabine watched Reyna's floor go completely dark for a moment and a purple glow came out of the young woman's window. She screamed, and to her surprise, Regina's sister appeared. She was staggering, barely able to steady her own feet, but what caught Viper's attention was not the sudden awakening, but the color of Reyna's eyes and the black circle that now enveloped the woman's entire arm with some lines that looked like a tattoo.

She was filled with a purple aura that grew stronger and stronger as she approached the doctor. An orb, hovering over Regina's head appeared, had a strange and supernatural shape, Reyna raised her hand and pulled the orb towards herself.

Viper would never forget that scene, the terror of people around her, panic, Reyna's wrath and how many lives she took. People who were struggling to get out of there, who had either been buried in the wreckage or crawled to safety, died.

Only one orb hovered beside them, this one, Reyna managed not to take for herself but to place it inside a prism-shaped bottle that she kept. Sabine would stay with it and find a way, she understood who was in it and started crying again, passing Regina into her sister's arms.

And silence was made.

And Reyna came to her senses, with a small sparkling pulse that glowed in her chest. The young woman seemed to have awakened, leaving her stupor and finding terror soon afterwards, when she saw her lifeless sister.

The mexican never blamed Viper for what happened, she remembered the doctor's words while she was in a coma.

The following week Sabine resigned. She refused to pass data on her research with Frederick and was impeached for it. They took away all her professional credibility, Kingdom made sure to ensure that she never worked in her profession again.

And Viper didn't want to either. Her anger at the corporation took shape, and she would make it a point to help and find a way to save radiants before Kingdom got their hands on them and treated them like lab rats.

She moved to another country, went into hiding and started a new degree in chemistry. She still had contact with Reyna and the two visited each other from time to time.

It was after one of those visits that a man knocked on her door. She recognized him as one of the employees of Kingdom's war department, the man who was always talking to Regina and who also liked the girl asked to come in and seemed to be nervous about the situation.

Suspiciously she listened to what he had to say, he told that he spent the last few years trying to contact her, said that he was sorry and wanted to get away from Kingdom too. He felt guilty, but he was not humiliated when he left. The man then proposed the idea of ​​working together, of making the world a better place so what happened to Regina would not be repeated.

Which, according to him, was very close to happening.

The bottle Sabine was carrying, containing Frederick's soul, began to shine and that was how she knew that helping the man would be the right thing to do.

Fortunately, Brim already had a few people in mind and Viper knew exactly where to start.

[lia-jones]

Growing Pains - Chapter Eight - Dry Cleaning and Peanut Butter Cookies

I arrived home from the airport by midnight, a dull ache invading my bones. I did not know how Victor endured this pretty much every week, I felt like dropping dead on my bed and come to life in the next century.

I was unlocking my door when I heard footsteps on the stairs. My neighbor Levi was going home too.

“Andrea… You arrived just now?” He asked, watching me with his piercing green eyes.

Levi was, for the lack of a better expression, hot as sin. He was a Krav Maga instructor and a personal trainer, so he was naturally well built. To top it all, he had these green eyes and strawberry blonde hair that framed a masculine square jaw and perky lips. 

After I mentioned I practiced Krav Maga back at home, Levi invited me to attend his lessons, and we became good friends after that. He was the only person in Loveland to know about my past abuse, and had taken somewhat of a protective stance towards me.

“Yes… Long business trip. What’s your excuse?” I said, playfully.

“Football and beer. And burgers. Did you come alone from the airport?” He changed the subject, expressing his concern.

“No, my boss drove me. Can I talk to you tomorrow? I’m in dire need of a shower and a coma.” I said, opening my door and putting my bags in. Levi interrupted.

“Actually, I was about to ask you if you can walk Boris in the morning. I have an early class.” Levi asked, making a face.

“Ok, no worries, I’ll walk him. I have your key, don’t worry.” I said, coming into my house and closing the door.

After unpacking, I went to my shower. I let the warm water slide down my body and rinse all the tension away. I thought about these last few days. It was incredible to see that relaxed side of Victor. He seemed to open up a bit, and I couldn’t help but wonder what made him let his guard down for me. But more importantly, I felt like I was slowly letting my guard down too. I was somewhat infatuated, the way I seemed to begin to stir with his gaze or when I heard his purring voice grazed the ridiculous. I shook the thoughts away and just resumed taking my shower.

I went for my purse to get my phone and set the alarm. But no matter how hard I looked, I couldn’t find the damn thing.

My heart raced as I remembered the last time I opened my purse. It was at the airport, as I was looking for my passport. I had taken it from my wallet on a previous occasion and was too lazy to put it back in its place, so I kept it loose in my purse. This time, it was mixed with all the other stuff inside, so I had to take every single item out and put in on the seat next to me before I could find it. Did I forget to put my phone in my purse while I was putting all the other stuff back in? Was it still in Sunset Valley, hundreds of miles away, sitting on the seat? I got dressed and sped to a phone booth to call my own number. The phone was off. Probably still on flight mode, or maybe somebody already had taken it, and removed the sim card.

I also had to call my mother, she should be worried, I didn’t call her while traveling. I looked at the clock, it was midnight in Loveland, which meant it was 7 am in Portugal, way too early to call anyone. I decided to call it a night and go to bed. I would be able to think more clearly in the morning.

It was already 10 am when I woke up, and although my body begged for a few more hours of sleep, the thought of my lost phone made me bolt to the shower. I had a quick breakfast, put on my jeans, my black tank top and a grey cotton drape jacket, with my black sneakers.

I took Boris to the park, where he played in several puddles, getting himself full of mud in the process. I then stopped by the phone booth to call my mother. Boris was beyond agitated, probably wanting to go play again. I held him by his leash, trying to make him still the best I could while I listened to my mom.

“I have been calling since yesterday, where is your phone? What number is this? Did you get in trouble?” My mom almost yelled at me, obviously alarmed.

“No, mom, I lost my phone. I’m taking care of it today, don’t worry. I’m using a phone booth in the meantime.”

“Did you return yesterday? How was the business trip? Did your boss behave?”

“Yes, good and yes.” I said, trying not to get into a lot of detail. I already knew that every word out of my mouth would be scrutinized by Dr. Mariana.

“Hmmm, avoidance. Meaningful.”

Boris was getting more restless by the minute, pulling and tugging on the leash, as I held him tightly in place. But Boris was a silly Saint Bernard, which meant he had the strength to drag me out of the booth if he so desired.

“I have to go, Mom. I’ll call you later.”

At that moment, Boris pulled the leash a last time, finally breaking the metal ring that tied it to the collar. Feeling free, he ran through the sidewalk, happy as a flea in a doghouse, completely ignoring me when I called him. I let go of the phone and ran after him, but I still heard my mom chuckling on the phone, amused by my hardship.

After a minute or two, I found him on the sidewalk, tail wagging, standing on top of some poor passerby laid on the ground, licking his face eagerly. I bolted in their direction, already mentally making up a felt apology, when I heard this distinctive baritone voice.

“Ok, dog, you had your fun. Now get off.”

Seeing Victor like that made me slow down my pace, amused to watch such a scene. Boris sensed me, though, and immediately left Victor’s unwilling lap, running to me instead.

Victor got up and started wiping his clothes with his hands, which made me notice the muddy paw prints on his white shirt and grey pants.

“Is the dog yours?” He asked, minding the stains on his clothes.

“It’s my neighbor’s. And he has been a bad dog, haven’t you Boris? Bad dog.” Boris laid down and hid his head under his paws, ashamed of being reprimanded. I turned to Victor. “Come on, I can help you with those stains.” 

Victor seemed uneasy.

“Not necessary. Here, I came to give you this.” He put his hand in his pocket and took out my phone, which made me jump with joy.

“Thank you! I thought I left it in the airport or something. Where did you find it?”

“In my car. It’s a wonder you didn’t lose it sooner, judging by your lack of ability to organize your purse.”

I shrugged and started walking towards the house, Victor by my right side, and Boris on my left, following us. I decided not to dwell on this particular subject, predicting Victor was about to lecture me for being so messy.

“So you made a new friend today.” I said smiling.

Victor scoffed.

“He’s a silly dog, aren’t you, Boris?” I stopped by a red door, the entrance to my building. “Come on in.”

“I just came here to return the phone. Have a good weekend.” Victor said, turning away to leave.

“At least let me get you some coffee for the trouble I caused you. I insist.”

He nodded and came in, climbing the stairs with me. The building where I lived was old, it still had its original wooden floors and very narrow stairs, but I thought it had character. And although I lived in a tiny one-bedroom apartment, the apartment was sunny and had large windows, and a small balcony with stairs leading to the terrace, where I used to go at night to watch the stars. We got in, and it took like ten seconds for Victor to view my entire living room and eating kitchen, so small it was.

“Nothing like what you’re used to, I suppose.” I said while I put some coffee to brew, suspecting he was wondering how could anyone live in such a small place.

“Do you get this light all year?” He asked.

“Yes, it is very sunny all year. Except when, well, it’s cloudy.” I said, rolling my eyes at myself, so stupid. “Let me get you that coffee. Have a seat. I think I may have some cookies.” I turned my coffee pot on and quickly filled it with ground coffee.

“Just coffee is fine. Where should I sit?”

“Go crazy. I’ll follow.” I said, while rummaging my cabinet for mugs and placing two on the counter. “Are you sure about the cookies? They’re homemade. Peanut butter.” I said, fetching the cookies to serve on a plate.

Victor sad on a stool on my kitchen island, eyeing suspiciously the plate of cookies I placed on the wooden countertop. He took one, smelling it.

“You bake?”

“Occasionally. Go ahead, take a bite and then wash it down… With this.” I said, handing him a mug of freshly brewed coffee.

He looked at the cookie in his hand, and finally decided to bite on it. After some chewing and a raised eyebrow at me, he took a sip of the coffee. He nodded in approval.

“Hmmm, good. You bake, who knew.”

“I do not understand your surprise.” I said, pretending to be offended.

He suppressed a smile, looking around the place again.

“I like your place. It’s rare to see something affordable and in such a great condition in this neighborhood.”

“Yes, I was very lucky to find this place.” I said, taking a look at his muddied shirt. “The mud in your clothes is dry, you should be able to brush it off without leaving much of a stain.”

I went to my bathroom and returned with a small brush, handing it to him.

“Now you brush it off. It won’t be perfect, but it will look better.”

Victor took the brush from my hand and started removing the dried-up mud. In the meantime, Boris pulled my sleeve and dragged me towards the balcony, asking me to open the door so he could go lie in the sun. I left momentarily, arriving to find Victor still brushing himself, knitting his eyebrows.

“Is it coming off?”

“Somewhat. It’s still visible, though. It doesn’t matter, I can change when I get home.”

I looked at his clothes, the stains lighter but still clearly there.

“Do you mind if I try?”

He gave me a dirty look.

“Do you find me incapable of performing the simple act of brushing?”

“It takes some skill, you know.” I said, teasing him a bit. His expression didn’t change.

“I highly doubt it, but here. Enjoy.” He said, handing me the brush.

I started brushing the stains off his shirt, and although the stains were indeed hard to brush clean, I managed to get a better result. One would need to be very close to notice them.

As I went on with my task, I started noticing how his body felt warm under his shirt and how good he smelled, his cologne intoxicating me into a daze. Involuntarily, I moved closer to him and reached his shoulder to support myself as I looked for a better angle of the fabric on his chest. When I really noticed, my body was mere inches away from his, his face really close to mine. I noticed his Adam’s apple going up and down and his jugular pulsing fast. And his eyes set on me, his dark grey orbs watching me carefully.

The smart thing would be to step away, of course, but I didn’t. I took in his gentle expression, his scent, his warmth, and I basked in it all for as long as I could. For some reason I felt he was doing the same, and even though my mind screamed for me to run, all my other senses were stubbornly keeping me in place.

I suddenly forgot that I was brushing, as my other hand moved from his shoulder to his chest. I could feel his defined yet soft and warm pectoral, and the fast drumming of his heart under my fingertips. He moved his hand to my waist and pulled me slightly towards him, as to encourage me, and my heart beat even faster, making me light-headed.

And then his phone rang. We both jumped at the sound, my mind taking the chance to sound the alarm, urging for me to step away. He grabbed his phone and answered, his voice faltering slightly.

“Yes, Goldman.” He paused and looked at me. I was already distant from him, trying to steady my heartbeat and not look all flustered. “Okay, you can proceed. I’ll be there in half an hour.”

He spoke to me, already in his usual poised attitude, his expression unreadable.

“I need to go, we are experiencing issues with the servers at the office. Thank you for the coffee and the cleaning service. Get some rest.”

He turned to the door.

“Wait.” I stopped him and went to the kitchen to prepare a bag with some of my cookies. “For the road. I hope you solve those issues in time, so you can rest too. Have a good weekend.”

He reached for the bag, his hand lingering in mine.

“You too. Thanks.”

The door closed behind him and I was left alone, his scent still in my apartment. The rush of adrenaline I felt before gave way to a swelling on my chest.

I smiled like a fool, all by myself, while my instincts warned me about the dangers of falling in love.

[hedwigstalons]

The Tracy Prize - part 5

Kayo sat at a nearby table, ostensibly reading a magazine but instead following the meeting between the two scientists intently.  She had to hand it to Brains.  Although not comfortable with field work he was managing remarkably well.  

It had been decided beforehand that Brains would not reveal his involvement with the Tracys.  Claire’s rejection of their previous attempts to make contact had shown she was not one to be swayed by the Tracy name; quite the opposite in fact.  Through the careful use of half-truths and omission Claire was under the impression that Brains worked in a small research facility and that his knowledge of her recent work was as a member of the short-listing committee for the Tracy Prize.  It was a plausible cover story and thankfully one that she was not probing too deeply.

The pair chatting over coffee kept the conversation neutral and on safe topics.  They discussed recent well publicised developments in the fields of chemistry, physics and engineering.  Brains soon found he lost his nervousness and was enjoying the chance to discuss his favourite subjects in depth.

His nervousness returned when a slight nod from Kayo indicated it was time to make his move.

“So Claire, seeing as you d-d-didn’t get the Jeff T-T-Tracy grant will you be applying for other funding?  I-I-It looked like an interesting project.”

“No. Everything else seems to come with caveats.  It will be hard work and it will take longer but I’ll continue the research in private around my lecturing until I’m ready to publish under my own terms. The hard part is getting access to the labs”

Here was the opener Brains had been hoping for.  His chance to entice her to the island.

“Aren’t the f-f-faculty supportive?”

“As much as they can be but without the legitimacy of funding I often can’t get a lab slot.  Trust me, I’d be in there now if they weren’t fully booked out.”

“Where I work is small but w-w-well equipped.  You would be m-m-more than welcome to come and use the facilities and there are g-g-guest rooms on site you can stay in.  C-c-call it my way of trying to make up for you m-m-missing out on the main prize.”

Claire swirled the last of her coffee around the cup as though trying to divine the right thing to do from the patterns in the frothy dregs. Brains was quite glad her focus was elsewhere because he was sure his nervousness was etched on his face like a book.

On the one hand she had always said she would work alone but on the other she couldn’t work at all without the right facilities.  She had nothing keeping her in Denver and the change of scene might do her good.  If she could get some lab time it would be a working holiday and if the facilities weren’t suitable she would treat it as a normal holiday and explore the local area.

To her own surprise as much as Brains’ and Kayo’s she found herself agreeing to the visit.  Brains assured her that the flights would not be a problem; they would be on a private supply flight to the facility and she would be able to return to Denver on the next supply run scheduled in about a week.

The pair parted with Claire being instructed to be ready to be collected from her apartment in the morning and to pack for tropical weather.

After a quick detour to her office to alert the faculty to her upcoming absence Claire headed home.  

In anticipation of this being a working holiday the first thing to pack was her work set up.  While her research methods were cutting edge her approach to recording the results was the complete opposite.  It was the reason why Kayo had been unable to find a digital trail of her research.  

In order to maintain her privacy Claire recorded all her results in physical notebooks.  Each night, on returning from the labs she would scan in the pages and save them to her computer, adding them to the research files.  The notebooks were then locked in a fireproof box as a back up record.  The computer itself was a standalone unit.  She had even gone to the trouble of physically removing all wireless cards and drivers.  She packed the computer, scanner and a couple of notebooks into a reinforced flight case.  In a world of holo-computers and 24 hours connectivity her methods were considered not just archaic, but perhaps a little unhinged.  For her it was the only way she felt that her privacy was truly secure from hacking and intellectual espionage.

With the work side of packing completed she threw a few clothes and her lab coat into a separate bag and settled down for an early night.

The following morning Brains collected Claire as arranged and introduced her to Kayo.  Claire hoped she wouldn’t have much to do with the quiet and serious young woman.  Animosity radiated off her and the intense green eyes appraised Claire in a way that left her feeling like her soul had been stripped bare.  It was a relief when Kayo shut herself on the cockpit leaving Claire and Brains alone in the passenger compartment of the jet.  

The flight was smooth and uneventful.  Kayo activated the intercom for the first and only time of the journey to instruct them to fasten seatbelts for landing.  Claire looked out of the window and was surprised to see they were still flying over ocean.   The only visible landmass, a tiny island in the vast expanse of water, was evidently their destination.  She hoped the laboratories were up to scratch because sightseeing was not going to take long.  There weren’t even that many buildings.  The whole place looked more like an upmarket holiday resort than a scientific research facility.

The plane touched down on a tiny runway and Kayo emerged from the cockpit.  She handed Claire a small watch-like device.

“You’re to wear this at all times.”  The instruction was blunt.  The tone was that of someone used to being obeyed.

“What is it?”

“It’s a radio.  If you are anything like Brains you’ll lose track of time.  We’ve found this is the easiest way to remind people when meals are ready.  Saves having to send someone to look for you”

Claire realised that her travelling companions were wearing similar devices. She fastened the strap, unaware that the device also contained a tracker.  It was one of the many security protocols Kayo had insisted on when Scott had announced his desire to bring Claire to the island. Others included initiating Operation Cover-Up and, if possible, ensuring Claire was never left alone in case she wandered in to any of the more sensitive areas.

“Brains?”

“That would be m-m-me.  No-one here c-c-calls me Hiram.”  Brains was quite glad to ditch the pseudonym and reclaim his more habitual moniker.  It would save a lot of confusion.

The exited the plane and Claire breathed a deep lungful of sea air.  It felt good to be out of the city.

A young man with blonde hair and a questionable taste in shirts hurried forwards to greet them.

“Hi, I’m Gordon” he said with a grin.  “I’ve been given unloading duty, worse luck.  You’ll find everyone else in the lounge. They’re keen to meet you.  As you can probably guess we don’t get many visitors here.  You can leave your bags behind, I’ll make sure they get taken to your rooms.”

Gordon disappeared into the cargo area of the plane where he and Kayo started stacking boxes ready for transportation to the various store rooms and hangers around the island.  Brains and Claire were left to make their own way up the house.

“Gordon is out resident m-m-marine expert” Brains supplied.  “We are a small t-t-team so everyone helps out when needed.  He m-m-must have picked the short straw.  We ought head up, we d-d-don’t want to keep everyone waiting.”

As they walked along a meandering path by the shore Claire was suddenly daunted by the prospect of meeting the entire island population in one go.  She tried to quiz Brains about who else was on the island.

“Beyond m-m-myself, Kayo and Gordon there are only four others here p-p-peramently.  It’s p-p-probably best if I let them introduce themselves.”  This was a topic Brains was keen to avoid and he quickly lapsed into silence.

They entered one of the few buildings and Claire was struck by the expense of the place.  This was evidently a residential area.  There was no evidence of offices or workspaces.  No clinical corridors.  She felt like she was intruding in a private home.  A private home for someone very wealthy.  It made her feel uneasy.

The hallway they were in opened out into a large lounge area dominated by a circular area of seating sunk into the floor.  An unusual mix of people occupied the seats.  One teenager, one older lady and a young man.

The man unfolded himself from the seats as she entered.  He was tall and athletic with startling blue eyes.  He quickly crossed the floor to greet her.

“Dr Ashwell, I’m so pleased you came.  I’m Scott.”

Unfortunately for Scott his offered hand was ignored.  Claire was staring straight past him to the far side of the room where a final figure was perched on a piano stool.  Her feelings of unease evaporated and were replaced with full-on defensive mode.  Her attitude became glacial.

“Mr Tracy, I wasn’t expecting to see you here.”

[ayma-nidiot]

In the White Light - Prideshipping fic Chapter 6

Also on AO3.

Chapter 6 – Like A Red Rose

Huh? Where am I? Kaiba had reawakened in a place that didn’t appear to be his plane. To add to his confusion, his surroundings seemed unusually… tall. So, Alister has send me to a giants’ world, has he? Another hallucination… I know I’m still on the plane!

Just then, three boys began to storm in from the trap door above. “Oh boy, oh boy, some food! Finally!”

“Say, Tony, maybe we can play chess after dinner!”

“Okay, Dennis, I’m up to it! We deserve a break after what we’ve gone through.”

Is that… Kaiba had to do a double-take at the third boy who entered. He looks just like Mokuba…

“I don’t know about Aaron up there, haha!”

Aaron felt hurt by Tony’s words, but he eventually noticed Kaiba sitting on the table. “Oh? What a cute little dragon!”

L-Little? Kaiba growled and attacked, but all that came out was a tiny ball of light.

“Aww, he’s so cute!” Aaron picked Kaiba off the table and started to pet him. “Can we keep him?”

Brat! …Huh? Kaiba looked into a mirror nearby. Sure enough he was in dragon form, but no bigger than a housecat. Aaaah! I look like one of Pegasus’ toon monsters!

“No can do, man. We can’t afford dinner for four!”

“Hmph!” Defying his friends, Aaron picked some food off the tiny dining table and fed it to a barely willing Kaiba.

“Hey, that’s mine!” Dennis nearly threw a fork at Aaron. “You’re going to pay for that!”

“And we mean literally,” Tony added. “How about you and your new pet go get us dessert. Hahaha!”

Without thinking, Kaiba snapped back, “Are you brats always this friendly?”

“Whoah!” Tony dropped his spoon. “He can talk!”

You and me both, Kaiba thought, not impressed at his pipsqueak-sounding voice.

“Okay, we’ll get your stupid dessert!” As Aaron carried him out, Kaiba gave the boys one last snarl before they crossed the trap door. I won’t fall for any of this, Alister!

“Wow, a dragon that can talk!” Aaron sounded amazed as he walked out. “Maybe when you grow big and strong, you can finally squash KaibaCorp! All right, I’ll go find you some food while I go look for dessert, too!”

Ugh, don’t remind me… For once, Kaiba could keep his power-hungry tendencies in check, and was thankful for it. “Say, Aaron… When did all of this KaibaCorp nonsense start?”

“I don’t really know… It feels like it’s been forever.” Aaron jumped onto a nearby ledge. “Let me think… Gozaburo bought out our land about a year ago, then when we refused to move, he started attacking. That’s when I met my friends… I know they seem mean, but they work really hard just to find me something to eat. I kind of owe it to them to return the favour.”

“Oh, I see…” Kaiba frowned, feeling a little ashamed. My father… What a repulsive man he was.

“Hey, are you okay, little guy?” Aaron stopped walking.

“It’s… It’s nothing.” It’s also a good thing that I’m not wearing my usual clothes, complete with the KaibaCorp logo.

“Well, if you insist.” Aaron continued down the ledge. “We shouldn’t stay in place for too long, or Gozaburo’s men might find us. A lot of my old classmates had to go hide… I hope they’re okay. It’s a good thing us kids are so small, haha!”

Alister, I think I’ve learned a long time ago that my stepfather hurt you! I’ve seen enough!

Aaron’s next words disturbed any further thoughts. “Say, do you want to play chess when we get back?”

“Huh? Where did that… Er, of course! I was the best when I was young.”

“But you’re already young.”

Crap… Well, I’m not lying. “Wait… Aaron, look over there.” Kaiba nudged his head to his right, indicating a tower of smoke.

“Oh no! That’s where the hideout is! Quick, uh… What should I call you?”

“Seto is fine.”

“Let’s go, Seto! We have to save my friends!”

“Wait! It’s too dangerous!” Kaiba tried to break free and stop Aaron, but that only made him tighten his grip.

When he arrived at the scene, the entire hideout was in flames, and all Aaron could really see was the frame of the building. “Oh no! They might be trapped!”

“No!” Kaiba released himself from Aaron’s hold and pulled him by the collar, vigorously flapping his wings.

“Please, Seto!” Aaron’s voice sounded different this time.

“Mokuba?” Kaiba stared at the brief mirage of his younger brother before he could hear tanks nearby.

“Aah! It’s KaibaCorp! Quick, we need to find a new hiding spot!”

“Grr… Face me, Alister, you coward!” With a loud roar, Kaiba could not only feel himself grow, but also turn back into a human. “Let’s finish this duel!”

The mirage of Aaron disappeared, with Y-Dragon Head and X-Head Cannon taking its place. But the former didn’t last long, as with a quick blast, one of the tanks had taken it out.

“Hahaha! Feeling the burn yet?” At last, Alister had shown his face.

“What burn? Your mind games aren’t working anymore! See, your little illusion you call a ‘friend’ is already gone!”

“But it is no illusion. You see, those were my three best friends growing up. We also had a pet cat that Aaron and I particularly loved. He was one of the few happy moments in our lives back then… We all looked out for one another, and the cat even brought us a few scraps of food every now and then. But he died trying to protect us from a tank, and that’s when the tanks ran my other friends out of town!”

“…”

“So now you’ve had a taste of my past, and you’ll see how it feels to be attack by the tanks that ruined my life. Oh, and by the way, I thought I’d like to mention what’s happened in our current reality. I just used a trap card called Tank Corps, powering up my KC One Crayton and giving it 1500 extra attack points. I had more than enough to defeat your Y-Dragon Head and inflict 2000 life points of damage on to you. So now, I place a card face down. Your turn!”

“My Y-Dragon Head is down but not out! I use Monster Reborn to bring it back! Now say hello to XYZ Dragon Cannon! And thanks to its special ability, I’ll discard one of my cards to get rid of one of yours! Your Tank Corps is gone!”

“Oh!” Alister turned around as he watched the tanks around him blow up, leaving only the KC One Crayton in its place.

“Now, XYZ Dragon Cannon, attack!”

With six blasts of light, the XYZ Dragon Cannon struck its foe, creating a storm of light that took everyone back to the real world.

“Hm. I should have expected this brutish behaviour from you. You really are just like your father after all! That’s why… That’s why I’m going to end you today, so that people like you will get the suffering they deserve, and the less fortunate can live in peace!”

“Shut up, you- Aah!” Kaiba wobbled as the plane started to nosedive. Oh no… Mokuba! He’s in the cockpit!

“I wouldn’t worry too much about your brother if I were you. It’s a shame you can’t even protect him… Now you know how it feels. And you’ll suffer even more when I take your soul, then that of your precious pharaoh!”

Kaiba blushed, but still keeping up his usual anger. “What the hell do you know?”

“You saw what he did back there… He sees you as nothing but an enemy, a monster to save the world from. Do you really think he could ever fall for you?”

“That’s none of your damned business!”

“Maybe it is, maybe it isn’t.” Alister drew another card.

Despite how concerned Kaiba felt for his brother, Mokuba could handle the plane fairly well, even though he was so small. “Oh! Roland, am I glad to see you!”

“Mr. Mokuba! What’s the matter?”

“There’s no time to explain… Seto and I are on a plane that’s about to crash land! You gotta send help!”

“On it, sir!”

“Mr. Mokuba!” Another one of KaibaCorp’s employees came onto the video call. “I’ll help you fly the plane! Just follow my instructions word-for-word, got it?”

“You got it!”

“Push the buttons on the right…”

“Uh huh.” After following a few more instructions, Mokuba had barely averted the mountain ahead. “Yay! Now I can just put the plane back on autopilot and go see if Seto’s okay.”

Meanwhile, Alister felt so confident in himself, despite the heavy hit he just took. “I summon Kinetic Soldier in attack mode! I play Junk Dealer to bring back Science Soldier and Cyber Soldier of Dark World back with half of their original attack points! Next, I activate my trap, Soldier Revolt, to destroy all of your in-play cards and the cards in your hand when I have these three monsters on the field! Next…”

“There’s… a next?”

“You bet there is! I now play Sky Union… Now get ready for my strongest monster, the Air Fortress Ziggurat! Not only is it strong – both naturally and from the Seal – I can summon a Robot Token for every turn it’s in play.”

“This is nothing…” Kaiba drew one of his cards – one that hurt him badly in the duel with Yami Yugi, but one that he couldn’t be more thankful for now.

“Seto! Please, stop this duel!”

Ignoring his brother’s pleas, Kaiba continued, “I use Pot of Greed to draw two cards. I place one card face down, and now my turn is done.”

“And so are you! Air Fortress Ziggurat, attack his life points directly!”

“Not so fast! My face down card lets me use your Junk Dealer, and I protect my life points with Judge Man!”

“So? You’re just delaying the inevitable.”

Kaiba could hear the faint sound of choppers in the distance. “The only thing that’s inevitable here is my rescue – and your doom.”

“So you even hide behind your army of cronies like Gozaburo! Raaaaa!” Alister’s anger grew more profound, increasing not only the Seal’s power, but also damage to the place.

“Forget about that snake! I’ll make sure you do with Soul Exchange! I know I can’t take your Ziggurat, but I can take the tokens! Then I use these tokens… as tribute for one of my strongest monsters! The Blue-Eyes White Dragon!”

“Seto, don’t!” Mokuba cried.

“Ngh…” Upon playing this card, Kaiba’s back pain and nausea started to set in.

“You know if you use that card, you could go mad again, right?” Alister teased. “Then you’ll turn back into a dragon and feel the pain when the pharaoh attacks you again. So you’re not going to win either way! It’s either become that dragon the pharaoh hates or lose your soul to the Seal of Orichalcos!”

With a strong mind, Kaiba managed to wear his pain off. “You’re wrong. I’ve made a vow today that I will stay strong and not let the curse take me again. But enough about me… Our monsters now have an equal attack power of 3000.”

“Hmm, such fighting spirit!” On his seventh turn, Alister spoke up, “I activate Toy Robot Box, discarding three cards to summon three more robots! I’ll use one of them to activate my Spell Canceller.”

“So stopping violence… with more violence. Maybe you’re the one who’s like Gozaburo. What would your brother say?”

“Y-You know nothing, cur! Now, my Ziggurat, attack his-”

“A wasted effort. I activate Tyrant Wing, giving my Blue-Eyes 400 attack points!”

“Way to go!” Mokuba cheered.

Mokuba… I’ll protect you. “Now I can take down your Ziggurat!”

Now I’ve only got 1000 life points… Alister thought as he began to lose hope. “You’re going to lose…”

“If you didn’t notice, you’ve got no monsters, and I’ve got my Blue-Eyes!”

“I didn’t mean the duel… If I have to lose my soul to Orichalcos, then I’m taking you and your fucking little brother with me!” Alister declared as the plane’s propellers stopped.

“You will do no such thing! I summon… The Fang of Critias! He fuses with my Tyrant Wing and Blue-Eyes White Dragon to create… The Blue-Eyes Tyrant Dragon!”

“No… No, it can’t be!”

“Tyrant Dragon, destroy those tokens and eliminate the rest of Alister’s life points!”

“Hah… Hah…” Alister panted as he fell to the floor in defeat. “I’ve… lost.”

“Alister!” Mokuba fully expected what was to come next. “No, don’t go!”

“Mikey…” Alister stretched out his hand with the Dyna-Dude action figure in it. “Mikey, forgive me… I’m not a good older brother… So I deserve… this…”

“Alister…” Even after everything Alister did to him, Mokuba couldn’t help but shed a tear for the man who just lost his soul.

“I’m sorry, but we don’t have time to worry about him! This plane’s about to crash!”

“Th-Then we’ve got to do something!” Mokuba led Kaiba to the cockpit. “No! What are we gonna… Seto, look at your Duel Disk! It’s glowing!”

“Yug, look, your Duel Disk is glowing!” Joey alerted from several thousand feet below.

“Yours, too! Ah! Timaeus! Hermos!”

“Look!” Téa was the first to notice the crash-landing plane. “The dragons are saving that plane!”

“We’ve got to go see!” Tristan suggested. “Hurry!”

As the friends got closer to their destination, Yami Yugi noticed the third dragon as well. “It’s Critias! Could it be…”

“Yug, watch out! The plane is crash landing now!”

Aided by the dragons and the soft lakeside, the plane landed with only minor damage – something that Kaiba was certainly thankful for as he exited.

“It's...” Téa pointed. “It’s one of Kaiba’s planes!”

“Hmm?” Kaiba noticed Téa, Joey, and Tristan first. “Oh great, if it isn’t the Dweeb Patrol. What are you doing here?”

“Listen, rich boy, we’re the one who should be asking questions. Who is that you’re carrying?”

“…Just some guy I dueled on this plane.”

“By the looks of it, his soul… It got lost to Orichalcos, didn’t it?” Téa remarked. “Then… We’ve got to get him to the hospital, too.”

“‘Too?’”

“It’s a long story, but Weevil Underwood and Rex Raptor lost their souls, too,” Tristan replied. “And all for some petty revenge.”

“Anyway, we were looking for you! Especially Yug over there, he was pretty eager to see you again.”

“Yugi… He’s here?” Kaiba felt the butterflies again – but they were the good kind now. “L-Let me see him!”

And just like that, Yami Yugi revealed himself to Kaiba once more, staring at him with a pleasant silence.

“Yugi…” Kaiba could feel his heart pounding as he took a step forward.

To his surprise, it was Yami Yugi who took the first approach – and a very emotional one at that. “Kaiba… Oh gods, Kaiba, I thought I had lost you for good!”

Kaiba didn’t know what to make about the fact that a pharaoh – a revered king – just knelt in front of him while crying.

“I’m… so glad… I thought I had failed to save you… I thought I had… Eh? What are you doing?”

In the midst of his thoughts, Kaiba had given Yami Yugi a strong hug, bringing him back to his feet in the process. That’s right… Ever since our first duel, I have felt this way. Even more than a rival, pharaoh… You are…

“…beautiful…” Kaiba pushed the long golden bangs out of the way to get a better look at Yami Yugi’s eyes. His eyes… I thought they were purple before, but they glow like a red rose.

“What? Kaiba, this isn’t funny- Mph!”

Any insignificant thoughts Yami Yugi might have had at that moment were stifled in Kaiba’s kiss.

[deejadabbles]

Not Quite Unrequited Yami x Reader Chapter 3

Three: Finger Lengths Away

One //// Two //// Three //// Four //// Five //// Six //// Seven

Summary: Yami would do whatever it took to keep his friendship with you intact, even if it meant putting on a smile and pushing his love for you aside. You knew Yugi loved Anzu, but getting over your feelings for him was hard, especially when time made feelings for another best friend arise.

AU where Duel Monsters is just a (vastly popular) card game and Yami and Yugi are twins. This is a fic I’ve already posted this on my AO3 but I wanted to spread the Yu-gi-oh x Reader love here on tumblr.

A.N: Just some nice, slow development between you and Yami ^.^

The season had turned cold some time ago and the New Year was almost upon you. The gang had scored big when it came to celebrating with each other this year. Anzu’s parents were out of town, visiting friends for the new year and had agreed to her inviting all of you over for a massive sleepover while they were gone.

After showing up at her doorstep, duffel bag in hand, you along with the Mutou boys helped her make dinner for everyone- Honda and Jonouchi being banished from the kitchen before they could set anything ablaze or worse. Yami was at the same counter as you, helping cut vegetables while you peeled potatoes as Anzu and Yugi worked at the oven and stove, practically leaving you two in your own little bubble.

It was such a domestic setting, you found yourself thinking; peaceful, easy and comfortable. Yami asked how your day had gone before coming over, offering up a husky chuckle when you mentioned how your family teasingly warned against getting ‘New Years Wasted’ before you left. You asked him what his new year’s resolution was if he had one, he paused and gave a thoughtful hum as he considered the question, finally giving a little cough and saying that he hadn’t chosen one yet. Even though you were trying to focus on peeling, you couldn’t help but to catch him casting an odd look behind him, likely towards Yugi or Anzu.

The momentary distraction was a mistake, because you felt a sharp pain rip across your thump as you accidentally ran the potato peeler over the digit instead of its intended victim. You hissed in pain as you dropped the potato, biting your lip to prevent spewing profanities.

“Are you alright?” Yami closed the small gap between you two in an instant, looking over your shoulder to examine the scene. A futile attempt, as you were clutching your thumb in your hand in an effort to somehow soothe the pain.  “Let me see” he insisted, tone gentle but firm.

You allowed it, letting him take your hand in his. Thankfully it wasn’t bleeding much, having just taken off a top, but still sensitive layer of skin. “It’s not bad, it just hurts is all.”

“Here, better safe than sorry” Anzu insisted as she put a tube of disinfectant and a bandage in Yami’s hand. You hadn’t even noticed that she ran off to grab them.

Since she had quite literally left the task in Yami’s hands, he held the bandage in his mouth so he could unscrew the cap of the cream. He held your hand again as he gently rubbed a dab of it on the raw skin, and for some reason you felt heat creep up your arm from where his fingertips touched you. His movements were careful, and he focused on this small task with the same concentration he had when strategizing during his games. You found yourself examining his eyes as he moved on to applying the bandage. They had so much depth to them, such intelligence and intensity. Even when they softened and gazed at something with fondness there was still that ardor to them. Violet irises that were almost a hue of red conveying the deepest of passion under that collected manner.

A gentle call of your name as those irises met yours jolted you from your lost thoughts. “Huh?” you asked, feeling a blush coming on.

“I was asking if it’s too tight” Yami answered, referring to the band-aid.

“Oh- no no, it’s fine, just perfect. Thank you.” Why was your face so hot?!

He flashed that small smile of his “Good. Now, try not to cut yourself again?” he teased, his thumb rubbing slow circles over the freshly tended wound; a rare brand of affection coming from Yami.

“Yeah, because that was my idea of a good time” you sassed back, though the words came out shakier than usual and that made you want to internally scream just a little.

He didn’t seem to notice, just slid back down the counter to return to his own task as you picked the potato and peeler up again. The odd sensation you had felt at his touch, the blush, the shaky words- what was wrong with you!? You had never acted like that around Yami, though, you supposed the rare physical contact was a contributing- perhaps the only factor to your reaction. Even still…there was a slight ache in your chest over the absences of that physical contact.

After food came the games, mostly ones Yami and Yugi had brought from home. You had decided long ago that when all of you played something that divided the players into teams, the twins could absolutely never be on the same one. It was challenging enough facing off with one of them. So Anzu and Jonouchi called dibs on Yugi for their team and Yami was drafted for yours and Honda’s. The seating arrangements in Anzu’s living room meant you and the older Mutou had to share a two cushion sofa while Honda took the armchair beside it.

You didn’t mind sitting so close to Yami, but you began to worry that he did. While debating on what to play first with Jonouchi, you caught Yami shooting his brother a glare, his face looking a little red as he actually shoved himself against the armrest and, in effect, as far away from you as possible. After a small, internal debate you decided not to mention it, instead scooting away from him and as close to your own armrest as was comfortable. If he was really uncomfortable with sitting next to you, you didn’t want to impose, though you had to ignore how hurt you felt at the thought. You completely missed the hue of disappointment and guilt that crossed Yami’s face for the briefest of moments when he saw your action.

As the games went on you remained oblivious to the inner turmoil Yami was putting himself through. Everyone was oblivious of course, except Yugi, who was still casting his brother knowing look after knowing look. He hadn’t meant to move away from you. It had almost been a subconscious reaction when his brother made a few discreet gestures that suggested he put his arm around you or something as equally intimate. Then he noticed you looking at the space between you, the faintest expression of hurt in your eyes before increasing the distance yourself. Now he cursed every finger length that spanned between the two of you, as if the gap was a physical barricade keeping you from him.

What the hell was he even doing anymore? He seemed to constantly flip between barely resisting the urge to pull you into his arms- and scolding himself for even daring to look at you with love as your back was turned. Yugi did not help matters. He was trying to, that was the problem. Yugi was wholeheartedly convinced that you two could be together, and now that you had had ample time to get over that ‘mystery guy’, the young man was in full ‘get my brother and best friend together now’ mode. When you had asked about his new year’s resolution, a conversation came flooding back to him, one where Yugi had said, “your goal this new year should be to finally kiss the love of your life!” And he had been serious, even thinking up a couple sweet ways Yami could confess his love. The memory was embarrassing to say the least, made even more so when he looked over his shoulder and saw Yugi mouthing for him to tell you exactly what his resolution was!

He did let a bit of Yugi’s encouragement in though, mostly because he was still feeling guilty over scooting away from you. As the gang went from game to game, Yami started to close the gap, little by little, at a painstakingly slow pace. You didn’t notice at first, until his leg pressed against yours as he leaned forward to move his game piece. When he saw you glance up at him, he flashed you a small, warm smile. His heart did a little somersault when you returned it in kind. By god you were adorable.

Eventually, the gameplay dissolved into general conversation between everyone. Honda and Jonouchi teasing Anzu and Yugi as they cuddled, wrapped up in the same blanket. You came to their defense, a laugh in your voice as you said that as long as they didn’t start making out- or worse, being wrapped in each other’s arms was perfectly fine. Then the boys moved on from their teasing to talk about what they were looking forward to in the coming year. This year would also encompass the last of high school for all of you, so naturally talks about what was waiting for you after graduation ensued.

Jonouchi was already set on becoming a professional Duel Monsters Duelist and you all agreed that he had been getting good enough lately to possibly achieve that. He had actually blushed at that and scratched the back of his head as he expressed how he was lucky to have such supportive friends. Anzu was of course going to New York, her dedication to the performing arts as strong as ever. You and Yugi shared a look, both thinking how you would miss Anzu dearly, but would just have to think up the best ways to stay connected while she was away.

The night rolled on and Jonouchi and Honda were now outside on the porch talking. Anzu and Yugi had moved to curl up on the couch and play a video game. You and Yami would have joined them but Anzu only had two controllers, so you decided that when the boys came back inside you could all just take turns battling each other. So instead, you and Yami positioned your bodies to face each other on the sofa as you talked.

The setting was calm, your voices low, the tone almost a lazy one. Yami had his head resting on his arm as it braced against the back of the couch, half of his face was covered by his bangs as they squished between his cheek and arm. You found yourself thinking that he looked quite cute in the position. Something about his relaxed, easy demeanor you supposed.

“So, are you still planning on entering professional tournaments like Jonouchi?” you asked.

“Hm, yes. Both of us are pretty passionate about it. Yugi will enter a few himself, I think. Though I know he mostly wants to focus on his dream of inventing his own games. I’ll be doing both, working with Yugi and Dueling.”

“I can’t wait until you and Yugi bring out your first game! I know it’ll be awesome, honestly I think you two should just start your own gaming company. You could call it ‘Brothers Mutou Gaming’ …or…something” your name pitch dissolved into a laugh, not knowing if the name sounded silly to him or not.

He let out that low chuckle of his, smiling at you with a fondness in his eyes. “We’ve thrown a couple potential names back and forth recently, we’ll have to keep that one in mind. Not sure if we can actually start our own business anytime in the near future, but” he gave a little shrug “we will see.”

Your conversation was cut short as Anzu called out to the both of you “Guys! It’s almost midnight, the New Year’s almost here!”

She and Yugi had sat up straight, eyes intent on the clock beside the TV. A look confirmed that it was indeed 11:58 and the two of you sat up straighter as well. Yugi had called the boys back inside and together you all counted down the last seconds of the year. When the turn came Jonouchi and Honda let loose with their party poppers and whistles, while Yugi and Anzu gave each other a sweet New Years Kiss. The boys turned the music on the TV up louder as they threw their arms around each other and started to sing loudly- and badly, but we won’t linger on that.

“Happy New Year” Yami whispered to you over the ruckus the boys were making.

He was leaning in close, and you were sure you were blushing as you said, voice equally as low “Happy New Year, Yami.”

You weren’t sure what made you do it, but you found yourself leaning in and placing a kiss on his forehead. It was light, but lingering; lasting a few heartbeats, heartbeats in which you could have sworn you felt pounding in Yami’s chest. Almost suddenly, you pulled away.

“I-I’m sorry!” you breathed when you saw Yami’s shocked, red face. “Did I make you uncomfortable or-”

“No!” Yami insisted in a rush, his voice still barely above a whisper “No, it was fine. Please, don’t apologize.” After a few breaths, the red in his face started to diminish. Finally, he closed his eyes, chuckled, and looked at you again. “I suppose we all want a New Years Kiss.”

He hesitated for a moment, contemplation playing behind his eyes, then he leaned in and pressed his lips to your cheek. It was short but sweet and when he leaned back he was wearing that special smile of his. You both hovered there, in that aftermath, looking into each other’s eyes. Even though it was only for a few moments, nothing else seemed to exist besides the two of you within those fleeting seconds.

[carisi-dreams]

Why couldn’t you just be careful for once in your life?” Sonny x reader?? Thanks love!!

filled in the bonnie&clyde!au universe! (which you can catch up on by scrolling through my bonnie&clyde!au tag)

Sonny pushed you out of the way suddenly as he took aim and fired his gun. You ducked to the side, stumbling, but regaining your footing so that you didn’t go tumbling to the ground. He must have hit whatever he’d been aiming at, or scared them enough to take cover, because in the next moment he was next to you again. Sonny stabilized you and half pulled you to the door, firing another few warning shots in the direction of the guards. Damn, you hated bank heists. Way too many variables, even with Sonny’s impeccable head for planning. You sprinted to the car and dove into the passenger seat and barely got the door closed before Sonny was pulling away. There was no way the cops would catch up, they hadn’t even arrived on scene yet. The car that Sonny was driving like the gates of hell were behind you was stolen, plates had been changed and repainted so they’d never track it. Besides, in another eight miles you were going to dump it at a garage and swap it for your other car.

You tugged your wig off once you had gotten a decent distance from the bank. Sonny had slowed to a more reasonable, less noticeable, speed and and you took a look over at him. His jaw was set and he wasn’t in the giddy post job mode that usually came once he was speeding away. Noticing that he held a hand to his side you peered over and peeled his hand back. He tried to protest, but you fixed him with a look and he reluctantly moved his hand out of the way. Blood. Your head swam for a moment in panic before you remembered yourself. This was Sonny, whatever he needed, you would take care of him.

“How bad?” You asked as you replaced his hand with your own, applying pressure that made him wince as he shifted gears and turned a corner. You were almost at the garage now and your actual car had first aid supplies in the trunk. “I’ll live,” he replied with a wry grin as he looked over at you. You narrowed your eyes and applied more pressure, making him suck in a breath as he pulled into the garage and turned the car off. You two sat for a moment, a moment that you really needed to keep moving, but you had to know how bad the gunshot was. He looked over at you again. “Not bad, doll. I swear. It just nicked me. Hurts like a bitch, though,” he huffed laughter at as he attempted to keep the mood light. “Why couldn’t you just be careful for once in your life?” You aimed at him angrily as you finally opened the door and climbed out of the car, slamming the door behind you. Stalking over to your car you opened the driver side so that you could open the trunk. You tossed the bag of money into the trunk, planning to stow it properly once you wiped down the other car and got Sonny patched up.

Grabbing the first aid kit you went over to where he was still sitting in the driver’s seat. The door was now open and he was struggling to lever himself out of the seat, but you pushed him back down gently. “Stop squirming. You’re going to get blood everywhere,” you said gruffly as you opened the kit on top of the car. He remained silent as you busied yourself with finding the gauze and antiseptic wipes and medical tape so that they would be easily accessible. Finally turning to him again with the supplies you needed in your back pocket you crouched down in front of him. He must have been telling the truth because even though he was bleeding steadily the flannel wrapping his torso barely had a hole in it. He got lucky. This time. You stood again so that you could get the scissors to cut up the seam of the shirt to gently pull it back from the wound. Continuing to work in silence you could feel the weight of Sonny’s gaze on the top of your head. Swabbing the wipe over his side gently made him flinch, from the cold or the sting you couldn’t be sure. “You got lucky,” you confirmed as you made to grab the gauze. He stilled your hand.

“Hey, look at me,” Sonny ordered in a soft voice. You exhaled hard through your nose and tried to wrest your wrist from his grip, but he only tightened his hold. “Look at me,” he repeated again more firmly. You let your hand go limp and finally gave in, looking up at him. He fixed you with a steady gaze, blue eyes piercing in the sun. You really did not have time for this. You needed to finish patching him up and make sure you thoroughly cleaned the inside of this car. Sonny didn’t care though, you could tell by his expression that he wasn’t half as concerned as you were in that moment. “I’m okay,” he said simply. You just nodded your head and made to grab the gauze from your pocket again. “Wait. Look at me, doll. I need to hear you say it. I’m okay. We’re okay,” Sonny repeated more insistently and you fiddled with the package of gauze in your hand. “You’re going to bleed all over your favorite jeans if you don’t let me patch you up,” you muttered avoiding his eye. “I’ll let you patch me up when you repeat that back to me. I’m not going anywhere, okay? I promise. You and me until the end. I’m sorry if I scared you,” Sonny said gently and you looked up into his eyes again. “I hate when you put yourself in the line of fire like that,” you said weakly as you tilted your head to rest on his knee. 

You heard Sonny sigh above you and he pulled his clean glove off with his teeth before running a hand through your hair at your temple. “I hate seeing you hurt even more. I’m okay. I promise,” Sonny repeated. You kept your head on his knee for a moment longer before pulling back and looking up at him again. “I know. You’re okay. But you scared the shit out of me,” you admitted and he let you continue placing the gauze against his side. After he was patched up you helped him stand and sit in the other car so that you could wipe down the interior of this one. You unscrewed the plates and dropped them in the trunk of your car before closing it and rounding the car to climb into the passenger seat. 

“You ready?” Sonny asked as he turned the car on and glanced over at you. The flannel had been shed and he’d pulled a button up on. Still a casual look for him in public, but better than the bloody flannel and getting into a full suit right now was not in the cards until you got him some stronger pain medicine after the drive back t o the safe house. “Always,” you replied with a small smile and he leaned over and kissed you firmly before backing out. 

[caranfindel]

Recap/Review: 12.12, "Stuck in the Middle (With You)"

The THEN warns us that it's going to be a BMoL episode (so my expectations are immediately adjusted downward) and that they're really into fun toys. And Mary's working with them. NOW: Mr. Ketch stirs sugar into his coffee, looks into the camera, and says "So... tell me a story." Story time! If the title of this episode put you in a Quentin Tarantino frame of mind, what happens next will reinforce that. Hard. We get a black screen with a 5:20 pm timestamp, and then a restaurant scene with five people: TFW, Mary, and Wally from the earlier BMoL recruitment attempt. The camera circles around the table as they order and talk, and it's very, very reminiscent of the opening scene of Reservoir Dogs.

I like that she changes into demon clothes for demon work.

Let's just look at this instead. Title card! Wow, a lot happened already. We get another black screen with the title THE WOUNDED ANGEL, and honestly, it's not until now that I realize they're actually doing a Tarantino homage. Cas is sitting in his old truck (I may miss the pimpmobile but I do like this truck) listening to a radio evangelist. And what does our evangelist have to say? "Each of us has a time when the physical body dies, and we all face God's judgement in the end. There's none of us alive, walking on this earthly plane, that will not pay the consequences of our actions. The Lord will hold us in the palm of his hand and he will weigh our souls, brothers and sisters. Are you worthy?" Well. That's awfully meta, isn't it? We're still waiting on those cosmic consequences, aren't we? Then Sam and Dean pull up in the Impala and we see that it's EARLIER. Which we had already figured out, given that it's daytime, but okay. Mary pulls up in her Jeep and introduces the brothers to Wally, who I guess knows her story because he doesn't ask how her sons are about the same age as she is. They briefly discuss the hunt for Lucifer's kid and Wally is shocked to learn that's a real thing. And then the next scene is fabulous, not just because it's very visually appealling on its own, but because it's a perfect shout-out to this scene from Reservoir Dogs, with the five hunters slow-mo walking into the restaurant, complete with appropriate spaghetti western music. Someone's having a lot of fun with this.

Aha. Bless you, Richard Speight. (Okay, still caps aren't the best way to capture it. But trust me, it's awesome.) Cut back to the diner, for a different angle on the same conversation. Dean's going to shoot the demon with a devil's trap bullet, Sam's going to have the demon knife for backup, and Wally's job is to "keep a lookout, don't die." Again Mary assures him that everything's going to be fine. Fast forward to Not Fine. Cas is standing lookout as Sam paints a devil's trap on the floor of the house and Dean loads his gun. Cas goes into the house and looks for Mary, who seems to be coming from downstairs. He asks where she was, and she says "Bathroom. I get nervous sometimes." Cas understands all about urination so he's cool with it. (Sidebar... If you've watched Pulp Fiction, did you notice that every time John Travolta goes to the bathroom, something awful happens?) Mary gets a call from Wally, warning that the demon is coming back early from night fishing. We see the demon walking toward his house, fishing pole in hand, carefree, whistling his favorite opera (I recognize the tune but can't tell you what it is because everything I know about opera comes from Bugs Bunny and The Simpsons, but Tumblr informs me it's Rigoletto), and the whole thing is pretty damn ominous. TFW (feat. Mary W.) prepares themselves for battle. This is an interesting scene, because we don't often get to see this pre-fight tension.

Admitedly, it's interesting for other reasons as well. The demon opens the door, Dean shoots him in the chest... and nothing happens. He's impervious to devil's trap bullets, the demon knife, and probably the devil's trap too - they don't actually show it, but I'm pretty sure he walks right through it.

Oh crap. He's furious to see an angel and slams Cas into the kitchen, then tosses the brothers out of the room and shows Mary this.

OH CRAP. He says "hi sweetheart," which makes me think it's actually Azazel. Then the brothers show up and slam into him, and Wally tells them more demons are coming, and we're back to where we entered the last time. Cas is hurt, bleeding, (and I don't know when that happened?) crawling across the lawn. "It's been a lot time since I've seen an angel" says YED 2.0, and he draws a freaking harpoon and stabs Cas right in the gall bladder. Before he can spear him again, Mary shows up, hits him with the Jeep, and flees with Cas. We're back at the other house she took him to. Which turns out to be a barn. Just as I'm getting really annoyed that Cas can't heal himself, because angelic powers are so unpredictable, he says he tried, but he can't do it, and "something's wrong." Well, okay then. Carry on. Mary's phone rings - it's Sam, and she gives him their location. Cas is bleeding out gruesomely.

Sam's still pretty, in case you were wondering. The guys arrive and Dean angrily asks what the hell just happened, then runs over to Cas without waiting for an answer. As he should. Sam asks, in his adorably freaked-out way, where the other demons came from. Which is an odd question, because they're known to run in packs.

But I am still thoroughly entertained. Thanks for asking. Then Mary tells him the target demon had yellow eyes.

OH CRAP!!!! Sam is bewildered by this news and says, in a shaky freaked-out voice, "Mom. What the hell did you get us into?" And YES THIS IS AWESOME, I AM VERY ENTERTAINED, THANK YOU. The next title card is MOTHER MARY. Will she have words of wisdom? Let's find out! Eleven hours earlier, Mary and Wally are staking out the target demon's house. Wally says "That's him. That's the big bad demon you need help with." Wait. Mary called Wally in for help? That earlier scene made it sound like he called her. Why didn't he correct her earlier? Oh. Because, as she says, "If Sam and Dean think they're helping you and not me, they won't ask the wrong questions. Safer that way." And I'm going to ask what Wally didn't. What the fuck are these questions you think your sons will ask, Mary, and why are they wrong? Why are they unsafe? What the hell did you get them into?" Mary's leafing through a file that includes a photo of the demon and also this. Where have we seen this before? Oh, yeah. In season 2, "Houses of the Holy." It's the archangel Michael. (And I think it shows up in Zachariah's green room in season 5 as well.)

It's a good thing they gave her this instead of just saying "look for the painting of an archangel with a giant spear," or she never would have found it. Wally wisely points out that he heard the BMoL's sales pitch too, and when someone offers you something too good to be true, there's got to be a catch. Mary tells him that working with the BMoL, she's taken out more than a dozen vampire nests, four werewolf packs, and a ghoul. (You know who could have helped you with those, Mary, instead of the BMoL? Your BAMF sons.) She won't come out and say she trusts them, which is good, because they did torture one of your boys and try to murder the other one, so. Just sayin'. Back to the restaurant scene, where they're also discussing the BMoL, and Dean says sure, they've got cool toys, but they did try to kill his brother. Actually, Dean, they tried to kill you. They only tortured your brother. But I like your loyalty here.

Other things I like: Your face. Your brother's face. Once again Mary tells poor soon-to-be-dead Wally that everything's going to be fine, followed immediately by a cut to the Not Fine future. The group approaches the target demon's house and sets about their business. Mary asks Sam where Dean is, probably just because she wants to make sure he's okay. Not because she's checking on his location for any other reason, like she wants to hide from him or something. In return, Sam asks if she's okay, because he's concerned about her, because he knows she didn't want any of this, because he's a good person and she doesn't deserve him. Ahem. She answers with "Since when is life about getting what you want?" Which is a lesson Sam Winchester knows better than anyone. Damn, Mary. That's cold. She flounces off, makes sure there are no witnesses, and sneaks into the basement. There's an odd assortment of stuff down there, but she goes straight to the painting on the wall - the Michael painting - and moves it aside to reveal a safe. She sticks a device on the door to open it and retrieves a box. When she opens the box, whatever's inside is glowing, and surely even people who have never seen a Quentin Tarantino move are at least somewhat familiar with this imagery?

We happy? Vincent! We happy? Yeah, we happy. Somewhere in this episode I need to see a wallet that says Bad Ass Mother Fucker. But anyway. She takes whatever it is out of the box and hides it in her jacket, putting the box back in the safe. Then she heads upsairs and we have the bathroom conversation with Cas and she's a lying liar who lies. Back to the fight, and the stabbing, and Mary patching Cas up. She texts the BMoL (who are called "Hobbits" on her phone, which is funny but also weird, because only half of them were actually British, but maybe she's thinking of the Hobbit hobbits and not the LOTR hobbits, so okay) that the demon had yellow eyes, and they say Wasn't us. Bad intel. Ha. (Also, I wonder what kind of phone they're using that autocorrects intel to Intel? My iPhone doesn't do that. Must run on an Intel chip.) They also say You can't stay there. He will find you. Oh, hmmm. I wonder who he is? Sam and Dean burst in, what the hell just happened, yellow eyes, adorably freaked out. Dean tells Cas "you look like hammered crap," and he's obviously very upset but trying not to show it, and aw. I'm sad. Cas's wound is getting black jaggedy lines around it, which is never a good thing, and Dean makes light of it (not really, but in his "making light of horrible things" way) and says "I've had worse." Which reminds me so much of him talking to Sam as he yanked that bullet out of his gut in "Red Meat." Aw. I'm sad. And a little aroused.

Dean's "If I pretend it's okay, it will be okay, oh crap it's not even close to okay" face. Cas thinks the spear was poisoned, and he's dying, which Dean of course insists is not the case. He calls Sam over, even though all Sam can do is stand there and look concerned (no, sweetie, it's okay, that's enough for me) and then a hobbit in a black suit shows up and says "You idiots! You're all going to die." Hello, Crowley. Crowley offers Mary a handshake and she responds "Touch me and I'll kill you," because Mary doesn't associate with baddies who tried to kill her sons except oh, wait, yes she totally does. The target demon is Ramiel, Prince of Hell, and that sounds like the beginning of a playground taunt. Ramiel, Prince of Hell, your face is ugly and your feet smell. Poor guy. Cas says that can't be true, because the princes are all dead, and Crowley says that's just what we told people to stop them from looking. Huh. I wonder how a Prince of Hell compares to a Knight of Hell? I mean, they should be higher in the demon hierarchy, right? Crowley explains that the Princes are the oldest demons, the first generation after Lilith, Lucifer turned them himself, and no one asks how they compare to the Knights, but okay. So, apparently he wasn't Azazel... how did he know Mary? Or did he just call her "sweetheart" for no reason? Flashback to six years ago! King of the Crossroads Mr. Crowley (hee) and an assistant show up at Ramiel Prince of Hell's house with a gifts. The first is Michael's Lance, which as it turns out is the weapon actually being used in that painting. Nice. Ramiel knows of it and is pleased. "This beauty; she kills the good ones fast and the bad ones slow and painful." (Sidebar... Do demons consider themselves bad? Aren't they just doing what their nature demands? Don't we all pretty much consider ourselves the heroes of our own story? Why would demons think of themselves as the villians, and angels as the good guys?) The Lance is marked with magical runes, and was created solely for the purpose of killing Lucifer. Well, that's useful. I wonder why Crowley didn't know of its existence when he was looking for a Hand of God to kill Lucifer, even though he's the one who gave it to Ramiel. (Whatever.) The second gift is in the box Mary found in the safe. No one says what it is, but Crowley calls it Ramiel's coronation gift, since he's next in line to be the King of hell. Ramiel isn't interested, and tells Crowley to take the job himself, with the condition that he's left alone. If anyone bothers a Prince of Hell, it will be on Crowley's head. And history is made. So it turns out the other demons were only there to protect Ramiel. And the weapon used on Cas was Michael's Lance, which kills angels slowly, and has no cure. The brothers insist they will find one, possibly by trapping Ramiel and beating the hell out of him until he offers one, and yeah, sure, Sam. That'll work. But he's confident they can do it because after all, they defeated Lucifer and the Darkness, and yes, you did. Or you would have, if she hadn't basically thrown in the towel. Kudos to you, Sam Winchester, for being proud of what you've done. But as Crowley reminds us, they had help and plenty of time when they did those things, and now they have neither. Dean begins freaking out, and Crowley makes his exit. He's probably just jealous. Later. As Dean slips on the enchanted brass knuckles he took from Toni Bevell's dead minion, Ramiel walks toward the barn, whistling the same tune. Crowley intercepts him and asks what it would take to spare those in the barn, because they're his allies. Because he's the only one who doesn't underestimate those denim-wrapped nightmares. He offers to make another deal, and Ramiel counteroffers by throwing him through the barn wall. Flashback! While this is happening, Cas is acquiring more black marks, and while Dean tries to think of a way he can sacrifice himself to save his friend's life, Cas makes a speech. No, you listen to me. Thank you. Knowing you, it's been the best part of my life. And the things we've shared together, they have changed me. You're my family. I love you. I love all of you. Just, please, please, don't make my last moments be spent watching you die. Just run. Save yourselves, and I will hold Ramiel off as long as I can.

"Dammit, Cas, you used the L word. We don't use the L word." The brothers refuse to leave him because he's family, and we don't leave family behind. (Mary looks away guiltily!) Then they make their plan - angel blade, enchanted brass knuckles, circle of holy oil (hmmm, who ran out to the Impala to get that?). When Ramiel enters the barn, Sam sets the oil on fire, and the guys pace menacingly around the circle. Well, it would be menacing to you and me.

Menacing and also hot. But Ramiel is amused. He tells them there isn't a cure, and he doesn't know or care who they are. Or that Lucifer has a bun in the oven. His sister Dagon (or whatever the hell her name is) is interested, though, which I assume means she's going to show up soon. He's angry because they stole from him, and he gives them 30 seconds to return what was stolen. Sam and Dean look confused, Mary looks guilty, and 30 seconds tick by. Ramiel draws the lance from thin air behind his back and lunges at Sam with it, but for some reason doesn't use the pointy end. There's a fight, and somehow Sam gets the lance and uses it to stab Ramiel. I don't know how he got it. I rewatched this scene once or twice or a dozen times and I still can't catch it. But it doesn't matter because his hair flies as he spears Ramiel in the chest and he does the post-exertion huff and ALL IS RIGHT WITH THE WORLD.

So very entertaining. Oh, except Cas is still dying. Whoops. He's got black goo oozing out of his mouth now, and all the guys can do is kneel there and watch and say "we're here," which is probably not all that comforting. Crowley, on the other hand, figures out that if he just breaks the lance, the magic goes away and Cas is healed. Well, I bet he regrets that deathbed speech now, huh? Crowley drops the broken lance and zaps out. Cas asks what Ramiel meant about someone stealing from him, and Dean, not nearly suspicous enough, shrugs it off. He picks up the broken lance and they leave. ONE LAST THING. Mary, it turns out, is the one telling her story to Mr. Ketch (from earlier? did you forget? because I did) and she's pretty pissed that she was sent after a Prince of Hell. She says "They stabbed my friend" (and actually, Mary, they didn't just stab him, they outright killed him) "and they almost killed one of my boys" (Cas is one of her boys! Eeee!) but he brushes off her concerns. She says if anything like that happens again, "I will burn you down. All of you." And she gives him the stolen item anyway, because why the hell not, and it's... the Colt. You know, I honestly can't remember when we saw the damn thing last. But here it is, and she just gave it to the BMoL. Cut to Crowley, ordering a minion to keep searching the house and find that gun. I've got to say, Hell (or Hell Adjacent, or Crowley's upstairs branch office) looks a lot less cheesy than it did the last time we saw it.

I love this glass and I want a whole set. Someone's there. Someone in a cage under the stairs - is it the cage Lucifer kept Crowley in during his brief rule? He's singing a song about a Colt, probably from some old TV show I didn't watch (because believe it or not, there are some things older than me) and Crowley's not amused, but the singer under the stairs is. And I'm trying to place the voice. He calls Sam and Dean "the Dukes of Haphazard," which is awesome, and tells Crowley that they absolutely do not care about him. And will come for him eventually. Crowley says "shut your mouth, dog" and the singer says "that's not my name," and then this happens.

FUCK YEAH. So, this is Pellegrino, right? I'm not imagining things? Anyway. A surprisingly entertaining episode. It's not their first Tarantino shout-out - the diner shooting scene in "Slash Fiction" is the only one that comes to mind, but there may have been others - but I found it to be lots of fun, even if Sam didn't get to be Mr. Orange. That restaurant scene was very enjoyable, every time. And it managed to push forward some of the major arc without getting bogged down and boring. Well done, folks. Some things bugged me, as they usually do. Mostly the introduction of Princes of Hell, and how they are different from Knights of Hell. And why is Lucifer in the dinky cage in Crowley's chamber instead of The Cage? Or even Cage 2.0? Mary lying to Sam and Dean... that's a pretty big one. Is it so we won't miss her when the inevitable Bad Thing happens to her? It looks like they're setting us up for Lucifer as the Big Bad for the finale, and they've even provided a weapon designed specifically to kill him (though they'll have to figure out how to repair it), but we've also got this wild card Dagon (or whatever the hell her name is), Ramiel's sister, waiting in the wings. And Rosemary's Baby is still out there too. This is the first time I've posted a recap on Tumblr, so if something is weird with the formatting, it would be awesome if someone would let me know (I use Tumblr mobile so I don't know what this looks like on a desktop ). And I try to stay spoiler free, so if you want to respond with a spoiler, please warn me ! Thanks! :)

[thatothercosplayer]

Kyusha bounded over the rooftops, stylishly leaping over obstacles in her way. Yeah, she could jump a bit harder and just cross several rooftops but where’s the fun in that? Awesome parkour sequences have always been something she felt make a competent action scene feel more intense.

A nice side tracking shot showing the silhouette of the jade heroine doggedly making her way across Akibahara’s skyline would definitely help here. 

Hikaru could only look down and shake her head. “Come on, chief! This isn’t no time to show off! We’ve gotta catch that guy!” 

“Come on, let me have a little fun for once!” Kyusha called back, but the bird had a point. So, she took one hard step and launched into the air, closing quite a bit of distance between herself and the mysterious assailant. 

The chase quickly came into a head on top of the GiGo arcade building. 

“Alright, you...time to give up the chase!” Kyusha had already brandished the Neurevolver, and was aiming it at the would-be sniper.

He was facing away from our intrepid duo. He was wearing a combat vest, and underneath that military fatigues done up in urban camo (which was rather wild and colorful). The rifle he’d been using was slung up on his back- but it wasn’t any make Ikura had ever seen. A full face hood and gloves were being used to hide his identity. 

Reaching up, he took off the mask and gloves, tossing them aside. As he turned around, it revealed...to be another bird-person!? His 

“What?” Hikaru asked. “I wasn’t aware of any other Raptoroids on this part of Earth!” She cried out.

“I’m no Raptoroid, you mewling quim.” 

Hikaru flared her wings. “You shut your piehole, guy!” 

For a moment, there was naught a word uttered; the only sounds were those coming from the streets below. 

The assassin took a step forwards. “I am a proud Zyuman...not some filthy alien who thinks she owns this town,” he hissed, leering at Hikaru. His down was inky black, smoothly set against his sharp figure. Not a single feather was out of place; his eyes, sharp and narrow, being a gold rivaling that of Hikaru’s armor. His beak was long and sharp, being only a few shades lighter than his feathers. Overall, he was a sharp fellow. Indeed, he was quite the sharpshooter. 

“I wanna hit him. Can I hit him? We should hit him,” Hikaru said, already flexing her digits.

Of course, her boss wasn’t quite ready for that, so she held her other arm out to stop her. “Who are you? Why are you attempting to kill me?” Kyusha demanded, stepping forward and moving to pull the trigger on the Neurevolver. 

“My name is Karasu,” he replied, curling up his talons into a mock gun and acting like he was shooting the others. “But you can call me the Black Reaper...” He laughed, twitching his neck a bit and looking at the two sideways. 

“Man...so much edge I feel like he could cut me on it. No wonder he’s so sharp,” Kyusha mused.

“Indeed. I have already risen to fame in the underworld....and it seems my reputation preceded me. I received an offer I just couldn’t refuse....you have quite the pretty price on your head, Miss Ikura. You do answer to that, right?” 

If birds could grin, Karasu definitely would. “Someone doesn’t like you....they made that very clear in their letter to me. How old fashioned, hm? I prefer to arrange my jobs digitally....much more convenient. But...it was part of the charm. Would you believe the price he set forwards?” 

Karasu turned his back to the pair, looking down on street below. “1,337,133,713,370 yen. A rather peculiar number, but more than enough for me to retire and find a nice place to roost and shoot clay pigeons. Or...perhaps try some human wine.” He chuckled.

“Just get to the point already!” Kyusha barked, pulling the trigger. In the blink of an eye, Karasu had whipped out his sniper rifle, firing a shot that met the Neurevolver’s blast and dispersed it.

“Oh, touchy. Patience, miss. I am getting there.” Karasu held his rifle up, leaning it on his shoulder. “’Get it done with, make it quick,’ he insisted. With the amount he promised...how could I refuse? And now, to see my target, but also a potential trophy? Hmhmhm.....I’m thrilled.”

“So, like, do you assassin guys always exposit like this? We’ve been standing here for a while now.” Hikaru blurted out, bored out of her skull. 

Karasu paused, then laughed. “Of course....inferior alien scum like you would be impatient, wouldn’t you?” 

“Hey! You leave her race out of this!” Kyusha shouted, dashing forwards and going to roundhouse Karasu. He stepped back, her foot missing his beak by a hair’s breadth. 

“He’s fast,” Hikaru said in amazement. “Those kind of reflexes...”

“So you noticed, hm? I honed my skills well. But....for it to just end like this....there’s no fun in it. So...how about a game?” Karasu squatted, looking between Kyusha and Hikaru.

“I’m listening,” Kyusha began. 

“My first rule...come alone. I want a duel. No seconds, rooftop aids, or anything of that sort....a fair shootout between two aces.” 

Kyusha held a finger up. “Actually, I’m not asexual, I kind of enjoy se--” 

Karasu whipped his wrist, and a feather fired out from his wing. It covered the approximate area Ikura’s mouth was on Kyusha’s helmet, and somehow that muffled her speech.

“Your jokes can wait. Now...as for the terms....I do quite enjoy my life. So...we shall use these.” He held up two discs with crossheir patterns on them. “One shot in the bullseye of this will administer a shock to the wearer that will knock them unconcious, allowing the victor to do as they please afterwards.”

“But wouldn’t that just mean you’d kill chief if you won?” Hikaru pointed out again, poking holes in Karasu’s attempts to be mysterious and cool. 

“Silence, girl! Your ilk already pollutes this blue planet enough!” Karasu shrieked, leveling his rifle at her. “Your wings may resist my rounds....but I doubt your pretty little face will.”

“Mhhfhfmmfhf,” Kyusha said, moving in the way.

Karasu laughed. “Oh, how predictable! A righteous, selfless leader. Just a facade. He told me all about you.”

Kyusha stomped, and she ripped the feather off. “Okay, I’ve had enough of this bullshit. For fuck’s sake- you’re not cool, you’re not mysterious, you’re annoying.” 

She spun the Neurevolver once and aimed at Karasu’s head. “We either duel here and now or I blow your stupid bird brains out! ...no offense, sweetie.” 

“None taken,” Hikaru replied, shrugging. 

Karasu stood up, blinking then nodding. “Very well then! Our duel shall begin now!”

“I’ll provide the location change!” Kyusha shouted, rushing Karasu and tackling him off the building.

Quite suddenly, the two were in an abandoned storehouse area, and it was broad daylight. Crates had sporadically been placed about to provide waist-high cover. Karasu tossed Kyusha off of him, then took to the skies, putting a bit of distance between himself and the metal warrior. He landed on the other end of the lot, resting his sniper rifle on his shoulder. “There is only one way out, here- death!” 

Kyusha stood up, dusting herself off. “We’ll see about that!”

Hikaru was just kind of there. “So, uh, what do I do now? Not quite used to this yet, chief.”

“Go scout around. Make sure he doesn’t have any friends placed on the rooftops.”

Hikaru saluted, then took off. The two really were alone now.

After a quick Mode Change back to Alpha, Kyusha readied the Neurevolver. This would be a bit tricky; he had far more ranged capabilities than she did. To get any effective shots at this distance, she’d have to get up close- Karasu was about 500 meters away.

“Game...” Karasu said, kneeling down and setting up his rifle.

“...start!” Kyusha responded, rolling behind cover as he took his first shot.  She popped up, firing several shots in response, even if they were ineffective. 

She peered over her cover just enough to get a visual on Karasu; he was confidently exposing himself, knowing he had the advantage. “What a cocky corvid, that card,” she muttered. She brings two fingers up to where her temple would be. 

“Hyper Scan!” She shouts, which earns a shot that grazed her shoulder. Sparks flew and she fell back a bit, but grabbed the crate to make sure Karasu stayed in sight.

Her visor lights up, a bright pink line scanning back and forth across it. Inside Kyusha’s helmet, the built in computer systems begin analyzing Karasu; more specifically, his rifle. Streams of data scroll up the far right side of her vision, random lines coming out of the mass of words now and again to point out a significant feature of the weapon. Reticles ran back and forth over it as smaller windows opened up, zooming in on the highlighted traits before everything finally closed and a new window opened, with all the specs that were really relevant to the fight.

3A613 Long-range Enemy Eradication Kannon (L.E.E.K) Scope distance: 10,000 Km at max zoom Firing range: 20,000 Km at max velocity C͉̝a̢̤͍̘̮̞͇l̪̥̕i̶̯͇͓̪b̸e̺̜ͅṟ̼͈̤̬̦ͅ: ̛̗͉͈̳̮2̴̘̦̱̲̻ͅ3͏͉̺̞̠̞̬̳4̨̣̮̤8̤̪̫̲͔͚͎9̵͔̞̳̝͙2͢3͎̘̻̞̝̩̦5̘̥̝̠9͍͙̯͠8̖̺̥̘̫ D̶̯̦̜̯͖̭̙͎͢o҉̯̭̪̲̱̘̤̣͢ȩ͙̀s̷͕͉̮ ̤͍̱ͅi͔̗̣͉̳͡t̬͙̀͞ ҉͍̳͉͍̖̘h̢͉̥͢u̸̹͓̰̯̠̦͇͜r͈̭̙̟̭͝t̳̳͙̦̘ͅ:̮̹̯ ̶̛̦̗̱͖̟͘f̗̼u̟̠̯̖̖̺͇ ̧̙̦̞͎̝͖̜̤c̛̞k̤̰̮͉̯ ̨̡͎̟̖͙̪̮͙k̪͚̬͘y̩͙͈͕̙e̷̱̻͜͠ ̡̨͎̝̣͞s̺͇͕̼̠̹͝ͅ ͇ͅ

̴̞͎̘͚̖ͨ̃͊͠q̛̲̥̇̅̈́ͬ ̱̗̼̅͆͗Û̶͍̹̜̎̌̄̐̿́ ̶̨̙̮͍̘̝̞̽̏͑1̶̛̞͎̪͖̞͈͋͛͒̈́͛ͬ ͕͖̤̬͙̭̭̦̈ͨ̓͛̽+̦̮̱̮͂̂͛͋̔ͨͦ͛ ̸̲͖̰̀̒ͭ͛͛́$̧ͨ́͏̺̦ ̈́͌͑ͧͤ҉̥‘̛̥̗̟͑̋̌̒͜͟]̼̭̯͖͚̙̗̺͒̏͊͗ͭͧ͋̓͢[̸̳ͪͯͩͥ’̴̭̻͉͐͑̇ͩ̾̄ͧ̽̓ ̡͇̹͔̿ͥͫ̋|͍̬͖ͭͥͨ̓’̙͉̗͈̙̘̺̥̈́̔͛͊̑͞ ̖̭͕̘͎͚̆̋ͤ͋͒͊͡v̴̠̗̄ͦ̔̆̀ ͙̘̲̺̥̥͓̲ͯͧ͆̀6̴̡̳̙͈͕ͣ͌ͤ ̨̝̞̬͓̣͔̟̗̤̀̃ͨ͝9̨͚͕̲̪̥͕̯̬̏̍́̊̈ͭ͡ ̨̪̗̠̪̓̊|̙̘͍̹̆̊̒̄̈́͝ͅ_̸̶̛̪̫̥̻̱̯̲̳̍͑ͦ̆ ̛̗̫ͥ̃̋ͦ̇ͤ̍̊̀|͌̏̈ͮ̕͞҉͎̘ͅ ̒͏҉̰̖̯̙͙̼̕ͅ|̛͔̦̤͖͓̄̇̽\̄ͩ́̓̎̉ͤ̚͏̨̟͕̹͓́|̷̱͈̞̱̳̘̥ͨͬ̅̂̇͘ ̎͐̋̃̈͘҉͙̱̱g̴͔͓̤̼͖̬̅̓̀͒͝ͅ ͗ͬͧ̾͛̚͞͏̶̻͍̪̺̪̦

Kyusha’s visor began showing error messages, new windows opening up and completely blocking her view. “Shit!” She yelled, punching the crate. 

Setting the Neurevolver by her foot, she brought both her hands up and pressed two concealed switches, causing the helmet to unlock with a hiss and release steam. 

Ikura tossed the helmet aside, which rolled a bit before coming to a stop and sparking, small electric pulses running across it before the visor stopped glowing. “What the hell...I coded the OS myself, this shouldn’t be happening!” 

She grit her teeth.

Things were looking bad, and the duel had only just begun......

[sailorsantaclaus]

A Tale Of Four Birthdays

 For @amboato I hope you like this~

Summary: Minako’s birthdays over the years, from before she was a part of a team to long after.

It was the middle of the night when Minako slipped through the window into her apartment. She leaned heavily against the wall, pressing her hand to a bruise on her arm. Artemis jumped through the window after her, flawless and silent as she had aimed to be. She was tired and breathless, her body was sore, and she wanted to sleep for days.

She couldn’t do that, of course. Minako had school tomorrow. School was important, just like fighting evil and keeping up appearances and distracting the eye of enemy before the princess appeared. She repeated this over and over as she moved away from the wall. The words weren’t the same as a bandage for her bruises, but it was something to keep her on her feet.

She dragged herself to the bathroom, moving quietly at first, not wanting to disrupt the calm of the night. Once she began taking out bandages and disinfectant, however the silence started to press in on her. She turned on the facet, letting the running water soothe her nerves. It was one of those things that had always been comforting to her, like thunderstorms and sitting by firelight.

She dressed her wounds slowly, wishing that she had another pair of hands but trying not to linger on the thought. She slipped into a nightgown, knowing that she wouldn’t really sleep. She would stay up all night reviewing the battle in her head, berating herself for every misstep that got her wounded, trying to unravel the plans of the enemy.

She walked to the kitchen, maneuvering through the darkened house to the fridge and pulling out the cupcake that she had purchased earlier in the day. It was one of the few luxuries that she allowed herself and she deserved to indulge today. She took a match and lit the single candle on top, carrying it to the table and slumping down in the chair. She laid her head on the table and stared at the flame as it danced in front of her.

Artemis jumped on the table beside her, nuzzling her cheek. “You did well today.”

Minako didn’t agreed, but she was too tired to argue. He was always watching her battles from somewhere and he told her when she improved, when she didn’t, what to do and what not to do. She trusted his opinion, but that still didn’t mean that she agreed. People that did well didn’t come home as battered as she was. With sloppy performances like this she would never be able to protect anyone.

She’d wanted today to be a good, calm day. A day where she could have fun or relax, but evil didn’t take a day off, so neither did she.

“Minako.” She turned her head to look at Artemis. He pressed his nose to hers, bringing a tired smile to her face. “Happy Birthday.”

It wasn’t really, it was a complete and utter disaster of a day, but in this moment, it was.

It was rainning outside. The quiet patter of raindrops was soothing to her as she leaned against the wall, hand stroking Artemis’s fur as he sat in her lap. She was singing softly, some song that she had written when she was younger and never managed to forget.

This was her first birthday since moving to Tokyo and the first birthday in the last few years that she could relax. Usually she had to act cheerful for her classmates as they wished her well and went on with their day like she didn’t really matter. This year, she could just stay home with Artemis. Better than every year she had to train or fight the Dark Kingdom.

The doorbell prompted her to get up. Still holding Artemis, she made her way to the door, wondering who would be stopping by.

“Surprise!” Was yelled out as soon as she opened the door, four familiar and smiling faces waiting for her. She took a steps few back as she took in the scene. They were holding colorfully wrapped boxes, Ami with balloons, Rei and Usagi popping streamers.

“What’s this?” She asked with a confused smile.

“It’s your birthday!” Usagi cheered, launching herself at Minako and barely giving Artemis the chance to leap out of the way. Her princess wrapped her arms around her tightly and Minako returned the hug in a somewhat bemused manner.

“How did you know?” Minako recalled that she had very carefully not mentioned anything about it. Why would she? It didn’t have anything to do with their mission and they really didn’t have much time to spend of trivial things like this.

“Artemis told us,” Mako said as they all filed in. She was carrying a container of her own which she quickly set on the table and revealed to be a cake.

“Sorry it’s such short notice,” Ami said. “We were planning a surprise in the park but then it started to rain.”

“You really thought we would let you get away without a party?” Rei asked her, carefully extracting Usagi from the hug she had Minako still trapped in.

She turned to look at Artemis, trying to hide her confusion, but poorly. He seemed to understand what she was asking though. He smiled at her, soft and kind and familiar like little else was these days. “You aren’t alone anymore, Mina. I thought it would be good if you could have a birthday to finally show it.”

Her eyes began to water for a moment, but she blinked it away quickly, sliding into cheerful Minako mode. “You big dummy,” she said as she picked him up again, hugging him close. “I’m never alone if you’re here.”

There was more to it than that, but Artemis would understand her. He licked her cheek and she knew he understood.

“Well, what do you say we get started?” Rei asked.

“Oh! Oh! Open my gift first!” Usagi said, jumping up and down in her eagerness.

“Don’t be so pushy, Usagi, this is her party!” Rei scolded.

“I know, but…” The argument faded into the background as she turned to Ami and Makoto.

Mako had rested a hand on her cheek, looking at them with repressed humor. “Here they go again.”

“You’d think they would settle down a bit for this,” Ami sad. Noticing that she had Mina’s attention, she reached into her bag and held out a card. “It’s nothing special,” She said with a blush. “I wasn’t really sure what to get you, but I wanted to tell you that it’s been really nice getting to know you. I know it’s been a short time, but…”

Minako’s smile became more real the longer she held it. “Thank you,” She said. “This means a lot to me.”

Makoto’s smile widened at that. “Come on, you better have some cake before Usagi gets to it.”

Minako was smiling as she watched the others bustling around the room. There was excitement in the air, and the almost frantic energy made her want to get up and do something, but she had been forbidden from helping.

Minako had told them that they didn’t have to throw her a birthday party this year but they were really insistence about it, Usagi especially. They didn’t try to surprise her this year, which was why she was able to watch as this all came together, but she thought that was probably the results of their newest additions to Earth more than she could have done.

Her attention was drawn across the room as at the sound of a deflating balloon. Berthier was jumping away from the hellium tank as the balloon she was holding escaped her hand and streaked wildly through the air. Ami giggled beside her as she tried to calm the girl and teach her the correct way to operate the machine, Berthier blushed as she refocused. Around the room, all the Ayakashi sisters were having similar experiences.

“Strange, isn’t it?” Artemis asked her as he jumped onto the table. “Wasn’t too long ago they were our enemies, now look at them.”

“It is strange,” She admitted. “That’s not the weirdest part to me.”

“What is?”

“These people are from the future,” She whispered. “Our future. A future where we lost. It doesn’t really seem worth celebrating the symbol of our downfall.”

Artemis reached out to place a paw on her arm and she turned to look at him. “You can’t think of it that way, Mina. The future is always changing. We won’t win every battle. It’s impossible. That doesn’t mean that we can’t have hope though.” His eyes turned to look out at the rest of the girls. “We lost during the Silver Millennium and Queen Serenity gave us a new future. We lost the future, but Pluto and Chibiusa gave us the chance to try again. That’s what we need to focus on.”

“I guess you’re right,” She sighed. “It’s just… I’ve trained so hard. We’ve all trained so hard. It’s difficult to accept that it could all come to nothing.”

“Nothing?” Minako snapped to attention as Calaveras came over to her. “You think this is nothing?”

Calaveras seemed to be the only person to have noticed the conversation. Rei and Petz were putting up streamers and balloons, Koan was helping Makoto set out the food while fending off Usagi’s sticky fingers. Calaveras sat down across from her, her expression between distress and a glare.

“You think this is nothing?” Calaveras asked again, gesturing around them.

“No! No!” Minako protested. “Not that this is nothing. Just… the future falls apart and I don’t know if I’m strong enough to save it.”

“You won’t be strong enough,” Calavares told her with a stern look. “We fought you in the future. You were strong, nearly unbeatable, but that isn’t what saved you. We aren’t here because you were strong.” Her eyes moved to Usagi, laughing on the other side of the room. “All four of us are here because you were kind. Because you were willing to show us kindness. My sisters and I were strong, but that wasn’t enough. Strength alone can’t hold something together. It didn’t hold us together. We nearly lost each other. You guys, even in the future, stay together and strong because you’re kind.”

“She’s right, Mina,” Artemis told her. “Think about what’s kept you together all this time. From Queen Serenity, to the princess, to Usagi, think about what really kept you going.”

“You, too.” Minako whispered, reaching out to stroke Artemis’s fur.

“If you want to get stronger, that’s something you can only do together,” Calaveras said softly. “That’s something my sisters and I forgot.”

Minako thought on this, but her thoughts drifted to the sad look on Calaveras’s face. The Ayakashi sisters had been trying really hard to fit in with 20th century life, but she knew that it wasn’t easy for them. “Hey,” She said slowly. “When are your birthdays?”

Calaveras shrugged. “Time wasn’t measured the same way on Nemesis.”

“How about today?” Minako asked. “We can celebrate your birthday’s today with me and if you want, we’ll pick a day to celebrate all of you in the future!”

The astounded look on Calaveras’s face made Minako’s grin widen. She knew what it was like to be alone, to be a stranger to kindness. These girls deserved a little more of that kindness from her.

Minako woke up to Artemis jumping on her head, groaning slightly, but taking the wake up more gracefully than she would have in her youth. “Morning,” She grumbled as she sat up, reaching up to pull Artemis into her arms. She could see a bouquet of yellow roses of the bed beside her once her eyes opened fully. “Did you get those for me?” She asked as she hugged him close.

“It’s the least that I could do,” Artemis told her. “The others were already here.”

“For what?”

Minako looked around the room, seeing the cluster of things from her open bedroom door.

“You work too hard,” Artemis told her. “You’re starting to become forgetful again.”

“I’m not forgetful,” She said as she got out of bed. She walked toward the living room ad stopped in the doorway. There were balloons and streamers along the sides of the room, a pile of present boxes around her living room table, a large cake with unlit candles, and a small pile of card sitting on the chair.

“Happy Birthday,” Artemis said. “Serenity gave you the day off, so I turned off your alarm to let you sleep in.”

“Artemis,” She whispered, kissing his forehead. “Thank you.”

She decided to indulge herself with a eating a piece of cake early, delighting utterly at the taste of Makoto’s deliciously made desserts. She moaned to herself at the taste and Artemis rolled his eyes at her.

“They’ll be back tonight, you kow.”

“You’re right,” Minako said, standing up once she finished her piece of cake. “I should be getting ready.”

“This is your day off!”

“That makes this the best time to do it,” Mina answered as she went to her room to dress. “Better early than late, I’d say.”

She put on something causal, wrapped up a piece of cake, and placed a wrapped present into her bag. “I’ll be back!” She called as she headed out. The was rushing through the crystal halls of the palace, excitement making her rush as she maneuvered to the most forbidden part of the castle. The corridors were like a maze the closer she got to her destination, making her slow down to assure that she did not lose her way.

She knew she was close to her destination once mist began to surround her. The fog was slightly disorienting, as it was meant to be, but she had been this way often enough by now. “Sestuna!” Minako called out.

Slowly, the fog began to lift and Pluto walked into sight. “Minako, what are you doing here?”

Minako help up the present and wrapped piece of cake. “Happy Birthday!”

Sestuna’s face softened as she accepted the gifts. “You are early,” She told her.

“I know,” Minako answered. “But I have most of the day free, so I thought it wouldn’t hurt to come and visit. Just in case something happens between now and then.”

“You’re sweet, Minako. I don’t know why anyone would want to give up their free time to come here.”

“I just don’t want you to be alone,” Minako said. “You spent too much time alone and we can’t bring a party here.”

Setsuna set down her present and unwrapped the cake, taking a bite. “You didn’t make this yourself, did you?”

“Oh no!” Minako said. “Mako made this. It’s a piece of the cake she made me.”

“When are you going to make me something yourself?” Sestuna asked.

Minako flushed. “I’m getting there…”

Setsuna reached out and squeezed Minako’s hand. “Thank you, Mina. And happy birthday.”

[oliverarditi]

The truth is a collage

We recall and communicate experience as coherent, continuous, meaningful – it is so important to us to do so that we will construct sometimes heartbreakingly arbitrary meanings to impart coherence to our experience of happenstance, as when a child ascribes the disappearance of a parent to their own failings. But while experience is necessarily meaningful, that meaning is always a function of the subject in which the experience emerges, and the objective historical causation that produces the subjective biography rarely embodies any of the meanings we would like it to. This meaning, this coherence, is something that we assemble from sensory and neurological impressions, impressions which are always fragmentary, isolate, and ungrammatical. We glance at an object, then away, then we return to it to add another detail, we hold a brief exchange with someone passing through the room, we have another look, acquire another detail, and we assemble a mental picture. This picture, like a photograph, is always a lie.

An image, such as that found in a painting or a photograph, dissembles almost the entirety of the experience of seeing. It replaces that happenstance accumulation of fragments with a narrative whole, through which we can tell ourselves a story such as ‘here is an object, it is existing autonomously’. Even when painting explicitly rejects a narrative interpretation, as it has for the majority of the artistic period hubristically and prematurely known as ‘Modern’, even when it insists that it is not the abstract image on its surface but its physical presence in which its meaning inheres, its products stand before us singly, severally, uniquely, coherently and autonomously. The fairytale continues: ‘here is a singular thing, made of itself, bounded by its absence, whole and significant’. It is an untruth without which we cannot live.

This narrative, or a version of it, is the one we must tell ourselves about ourselves every day, beginning when we wake. The truth, that we are an assemblage of fragmentary flashes, an emergent, aleatory phenomenon at the nexus of a set of contingent processes, is one that we can grasp intellectually, but to experience it is to suffer from a severe dissociative disorder. Our identity as humans, our health and wellbeing, depends on our assembling all of this discontinuous material into a narrative, and our boundless appetite for explicitly constructed narratives such as those in books, films and videogames is a consequence of our need for models: good, professional, seamless exemplars, where you can’t see the joins. We want it all to look like a  movie or a realistic painting, but the truth is it’s all collage.

Whether this observation implies any special status for the artistic practice of collage is not a question that is answered by Cut and Paste | 400 Years of Collage, a wide-ranging historical survey at the Scottish National Gallery of Modern Art, but it is one that is grappled with extensively by many of the artists on show there. Undermining narrative is an important aim of some of the best known of the twentieth-century artists to employ collage, but the central thrust of this exhibition is that collage is not an avant-garde technique plucked from the clear blue sky by Georges Braque and Pablo Picasso. It is rather an ill-defined set of related practices dating back many hundreds of years. The aims of most early collagists are decidedly pro-narrative, finding ways to assemble coherent images for various specific purposes from the materials to hand.

This exhibition is in fact, it is claimed, the first historical survey of collage. Ever, anywhere. Art-historical discourse on the topic has rarely, if ever, been interested in the roots of collage as a material practice, preferring to perpetuate the myth of a day zero in early twentieth-century Paris. It was by a fiat of creative insight, we are told, that objects began to stand in for their own representations in artworks whose technical methodology was a radical invention, in defiance of all established practice. However, as the curators of this show make clear, cutting out commercially produced images and sticking them down in novel combinations was a popular leisure activity long before the avant-garde got in on the act, and it is very unlikely that Braque had never heard of such a thing before he began to stick pieces of wood-grain wallpaper to his drawings around 1912.

The reason for this invisible history is simple: the early practitioners of collage were not professional artists, but domestic hobbyists, usually women, creators of the sort for which there is no place in the histories of fine art, except as peripheral figures practicing ‘naïve’ or ‘folk’ art. This is not to say that assembled images had never been exhibited: indeed, they were regularly included in group exhibitions, and the exhibition catalogue quotes an advertisement in a nineteenth-century London newspaper soliciting submissions which specifically disqualifies such work. However, while collage might not have been a visual discourse that could be taken seriously as ‘art’, it was one in which all strata of society participated. The show includes a screen covered with images from magazines which are thought to have been cut and pasted by Charles Dickens and a friend, and also displays pieces to represent the importance of collage techniques in the assembly and dissemination of taxonomic knowledge – a mode of knowledge which one might see as inherently collagist in its form.

Of course, given the discussion with which I began, it could seem easy to argue that all knowledge, all culture, all social practice, is collage: it is important to remember that ‘collage’ does not simply refer to the selection and combination of meaningful symbolic elements. The word for such practices in general is… well, it’s ‘language’ – or ‘sign-systems’ if you want to be finicky. Collage as a material practice is very hard to pin down, given the variety of physical and digital techniques that might be employed in combining images, but it is clearly visual, and can usually be characterised by its use of readymade, found materials.

The point at which collage enters the fine art world, which is usually the horizon beyond which art-history cannot see it, is the point at which Cut and Paste stops being an innovative re-historicisation of its topic, and becomes more of a conventional art exhibition. The history of collage as a commercialised, widely practiced hobby, or as a range of practices stretching from botanical research to the making of Valentines cards, ceases at the moment that Picasso sticks a found image of caning into a painting of a chair, and we hear no more of it. I know that the stated curatorial intention was to burst that horizon from the front to the back, and to extend the history of practice that gives us Andy Warhol and the cover of Sgt. Pepper's Lonely Hearts Club Band until we can see more of such works’ antecedence; but it still seems a shame, having recuperated the practice of those whose art is considered uninteresting because it is domestic, or female, or illustrative, to retreat into a conventional view of art history.

This is however the point at which the show really gets going. The earlier history of collage has not been collected in the same way, and is so multifarious that it’s hard to stick its fragments together into the kind of coherent narrative we all crave. Once we get to Cubism there is an abundance of material, much of it extraordinarily potent, whose narratives are well-established. The highly politicised European work of the first half of the twentieth-century is particularly striking, and mostly comes from scenes which were violently suppressed – a suppression of avant-gardes which helped to shift the art world’s post-war centre of gravity to New York. Yet it is in Britain that the story is taken up after the Second World War, with the beginnings of Pop Art. Some of Eduardo Paolozzi’s immediately post-war work probably looked back to German artists like John Heartfield or Hannah Höch as antecedents, but his choice of American commercial imagery gives a salient foretaste of what British and American art would be in the 1950s and 1960s.

This is also the point at which it gets personal, with many pieces by artists who were known to my grandparents, some of whom were their close personal friends, pieces which are familiar to me by long association. That familiarity disrupts the curatorial discourse for me, and makes it hard to separate the narrative of artistic development from the rougher but more intimate collage of family memory. Art-history reaches a hiatus for me with the Independent Group, a British group of optimistic, visionary artists, architects and writers, who I heard referred to by their first names from my earliest years, and who I consequently carry with me into a kind of permanent contemporaneity. They’re all dead now, of course, but their work retains the nostalgic character of childhood memory, and it’s hard to push it back into history.

Peter Blake’s The Toy Shop is a piece with which I’ve had a more distant relationship, although I know it from reproductions, and my grandparents were not friends with Blake, who is still alive. When I got close to it however, I discovered an unexpected intimacy. I worked out eventually that I must have been parked in front of the piece as a child, so that my adults could have a look at some of the other work in that part of the Tate, where it has long been resident. Every toy car in its ersatz shop-window, every paintbrush, train and piece of carefully curated packaging was as overwhelmingly present to me as the things I spent hours with on my own bedroom floor. Such an intensity of recollection of course spurred me to produce the narrative explanation in the sentence before last, but perhaps it would be better to leave the sharp edge showing, and just glue that experience down next to my other fragmentary impressions of this exhibition.