#soul eater fanfic

[illubean]

Mayhaps....

Death The Kid x a reader that's a witch pretending to be a meister? Like Kim from the manga :>

DTK with a Witch!S/o

Characters: Death the Kid Type: Headcanons, Gn!reader

YES YES YES YES MY FIRST SOUL EATER REQUESTS AND FOR ONE OF MY FAVS TOO .·°՞(≧□≦)՞°·.

Warnings: none

while posing as a meister, it is insanely hard to find people on the same wavelength as you considering the fact you're a witch

the one thing that Kid didn't understand about you was the fact he wasn't able to see your soul

he stayed wary of you, knowing that something wasn't right

but after a while of getting to know you and having no troubles, he forgets all about it

maybe his power is messed up because he's not a fully developed shinigami yet or something

he actually ends up growing pretty fond of you

he's so obvious about it and oblivious to you at the same time

soooo Liz had to spill the beans and boom you're a thing now

after a while of being with you he remembers how he can't see your soul and asks about it

you offer a long silence, which worries the young shinigami

and when you tell him the truth he is conflicted

yes the entire point of the DWMA was to rid the world of kishins and witches who have the instinct to destroy but you were his significant other

you hadn't shown the slightest signs of giving in to those so called instincts and had been nothing but good to your peers

and if your plan was to destroy the DWMA from the inside out, why were you being so open with him right now?

but when it comes down to it, Kid loves and trusts you

when the rest of the students at the DWMA find out he is quick to protect you from any haters

Liz actually flips her shit after finding out you were a witch this entire time but Kid would literally argue with her until the day he dies if it meant defending you

and when he says something about it to Lord Death he's like "oh I knew that"

and Kid is annoyed that his own father didn't say anything

but after this his trust in you deepens, knowing that his dad also trusts you enough to let you attend the DWMA and walk around Death City freely

if anything this new knowledge just strengthens your relationship :3

[cannibal-nightmares]

(these are gifs!)

a lil something for @bcbdrums from their fic "A Touch of Warmth," which i've thought about way too much (or yet not enough). Funnily, I completely forgot there's a entirely different scene I'd like to draw that's been sitting in my prompt list ^^;

read it here! -> tumblr / ao3 / fanficnet

behind the scenes here // separate frames below:

[mytheoristavenue]

Day 4 -

SE Soul 'Eater' Evans - Holiday Light Show

Summary: After losing a bet, Soul is 'forced' to take you on a date to a holiday light show.

Warnings: tsundere!soul, no pre-established relationship, angst, reader has a crush on soul, pity date, fluff

"Aren't you ready yet?" Soul scoffed, lounging on your couch.

"Almost!" you called from the bedroom, nervously grooming your hair and smoothing out your outfit. "Just one second!"

The albino rolled his eyes, groaning something about how all women take hours to get ready. "C'mon already! I wanna get this over with."

Not at all disheartened by his complaining, you stepped out into the hall, beaming, waiting for his response. "How do I look?"

Behind the scenes, Soul was taken back. He'd never seen you in much else apart from your daily uniform and athletic clothes. Though he could never admit it to you or anyone else, you cleaned up nicely. "Fine. Now can we please go? I'm hungry."

Of course we can!" you flashed him a sweet smile, grabbing your purse and stepping toward the door, opening it for him. "After you."

Soul ducked out of the doorframe, not bothering to wait for you to do the same before descending the stairs of your building. This would be a very long night.

-----

You could hardly contain your excitement as the two of you neared the Death City Square. Billions of neon lights polluted the evening fog, making the sight visible for miles. Suddenly, you spotted vendors lining the streets near the entrance of the square, prompting you to grab Soul's hand enthusiastically. "Hey, look! Food trucks, you said you were hungry right?"

"Yeah," he responded nonchalantly, silently rigid under your soft touch. "Practically starving."

"C'mon," you chirped pulling him along. "How about you pick!"

"Obviously," he scoffed, cradling his chin in his hand, weighing his options. "If I'm gonna pay, I should pick the place."

"You were gonna pay?" you glanced up at him in awe.

"Well, yeah?" he retorted, deciding on a humble burger stand. "It wouldn't be cool for me to pay for myself and not pay for you too."

"I guess so..." you mused, giggling.

Walking up to the stand, Soul approached the window, giving the attendant his order, prompting you to do the same. "$15.32, please." The attendant said, scribbling down the order before handing off the ticket. Your date fished out a $20 out of his wallet and turned to hand it over, only to find the woman dropping change into your hand.

"What the-?" he asked, confused. "Did you pay?" Grinning, you nodded and dropped the change loosely into your purse.

"It's the least I could do." you answered, reaching up to the window to grab your drinks, before handing him his and stepping out of line.

"But why? I said I'd do it." he protested, taking the bag of food and carrying it to find a place to sit. "You made me look so uncool."

"I'm sorry, Soul." you apologized genuinely. "I only meant to be nice. Like I said, it's the least I could do."

"What do you mean by that?" he asked, taking a bite of his burger, which in turn, caused it to leak mustard on his shirt. "Ah damn..."

You giggled, fishing a napkin out of the bag and leaning forward to wipe it away. "I know you don't want to be here, the least I can do is buy you dinner for your troubles."

His eyes widened as he paused and lowered his food. "You know about the bet?" You nodded, taking a fry into your mouth. "For how long?"

"Since the day after you asked me. Black Star told Kid, and Kid told Liz and she told Patti and Patti told me." You explained nonchalantly.

"Does...it bother you?" he asked, guilt filling his stomach fasted than any street food could.

"A little, but I promised myself I wouldn't look a gift horse in the mouth." you confessed. "Just because it's not a real date, doesn't mean I can't enjoy it."

Your words had officially ruined Soul's appetite as he wrapped his burger back up and dropped it in the bag. "Sorry, guess I wasn't as hungry as I thought. I'll have it later." You nodded in acknowledgment. "You should hurry up and eat though, I wanna go see the lights." With that, you scarfed down your remaining food and disregarded of your trash before heading towards the entrance.

The entryway was a beautiful arch, decorated with twinkling lights that tangled every which way. Looking down into the exhibit, you were wonderstuck, until you suddenly felt a hand slip into yours. Glancing down, you found your bare hand enveloped in Soul's gloved one. Without meeting your gaze, he could feel your staring and responded. "Look's pretty big in there. I'm not gonna risk you wandering off and getting lost." Not wanting to ruin the moment, you simply nodded with a smile.

The light show itself was a maze of sorts, a twisting, winding tunnel of lights strung between trees and structures. Some lights blinked, and some softly faded into other colors. Others simply stayed the same. A few topiaries littered the path, each wrapped up with twinkling yellow stars. Needless to say, you were in awe of the sight, giggling and squealing with delight, dragging Soul to each new thing and forcing him to take photos of you.

Despite himself, the sythe was...actually having a nice time. The scenery was pretty, the weather was to his liking, and though he'd dreaded having to spend time with you all week, he found himself smiling, watching you dart around so excitedly. You were like a kid in a candy store. It was almost adorable.

As all good things do, the night eventually began to draw to a close, the chill beginning to bite and most visitors long gone. Soon the lights would be powered off for the night. It was time to go home. "C'mon," he said grumpily. "I'm about to freeze my ass off."

You turned back to him, slumping your shoulders. "Can't we stay a little longer?"

"No," he stayed firm, digging his hands into his pockets. "We got school tomorrow and it's already late. 'Sides, if I'm not home by midnight, Maka'll probably beat me to death." You caved, knowing he was right, and jogged up to his side.

"You're right." you sighed, bundling up into your coat. "Anyways, thanks for taking me out, Soul. Even if you didn't have much of a choice. I had a lot of fun."

The boy went rigid for a moment, before relaxing again with a faint smile.

"No problem. I guess it wasn't as painful as I thought it'd be." His taunts were finally beginning to wear down your chipper mood if only a bit.

"I'm sorry you didn't have much fun." you confessed, breath caught in your throat as the two of you walked. "I didn't think you would, but I was hoping I could find a way to get you to like spending time with me."

Soul paused for a moment, stuck in his tracks. "So, wait..." he began, swallowing a lump of feelings. "You've just been pretending to be all bubbly just to get me in a better mood this whole time?"

"Mostly," you answered bluntly. "I really did like going out with you, but it was kind of exhausting having fun for the both of us. I'm glad it's over." you laughed half heartedly.

Oh man, did he feel guilty. Taking someone who really likes you, only to be a jerk the whole night? So uncool. As you began to walk again, his hand snuck into yours and pulled you back. "Hey, wait," he protested, a slight blush dusting his cheeks. "I uh...I actually had a lot of fun with you, (Y/N)." Worldlessly, you tilted your head, prompting him to continue. "I guess...I just never really saw you that way and knowing you had this huge crush on me kinda put me off, ya know?"

You nodded in acknowledgment. You knew how you could be. "I know I tend to come on a little strong. It's just difficult for me to disguise my emotions. I'm sorry for making you uncomfortable."

"Well, listen," he started again, keeping your fingers in his grasp while itching the back of his neck with his free hand. "I haven't been very cool tonight..." he gulped, glancing away from you, clearly embarrassed. "How about we try again next week? I'll take you on a real date. Just so you know I'm a cool guy. Deal?"

Your eyes glossed over as you tried to hold in your tears. "I-I'd love that." you stammered, sniffling a bit. Swallowed by emotion, you stepped forward and hugged him, burring your face in his coat. To your delight, you could feel his arm wrap around you in return.

"And just for the record, you're little trick worked." he pulled back, flashing his signature sharky grin.

"What do you mean?" you tilted your head in confusion.

"Somehow you got me to like spending time with you."

[takeyourcyanide]

I Know That The Writing’s On The Wall

AO3

Fandom: Soul Eater

Character: Franken Stein

Word Count: 744

Tags: Minor Violence, Blood and Gore, Random & Short, Nausea, References to Addiction, Descent into Madness

Summary: Four separate signs of the times. Things, happenings, signs that were present at the beginning of Stein’s episode of madness. Sort of like documentation.

Notes: This is another defrag fic, a bit of an exercise to hopefully get me back into the groove of writing, as there is a fic I’d really like to finish. May the head fog clear.

I contemplated even posting this one.

The title is inspired by a lyric in the song ‘Candy’ by Paolo Nutini. I can also recommend Marina’s (formerly known as Marina and the Diamonds) cover of the song. Both are quite lovely, in my opinion.

I would like to add that this fic is technically four separate chapters on AO3. Here you go, anyway.

A gust of wintry air cascaded out of the vents, embracing Stein, even despite whatever warmth the stitched-up lab coat he’d slept in provided him. It left his screw frigid to the touch, though he allowed his fingertips to ache as he rather sloppily turned it.

A bird, somewhere not too distant, chirped in the same cadence, in the same tone for a solid minute or so. The pleasant scent of stale cigarette smoke mixed with the lingering scent of various different chemicals soothed the exhausted restlessness causing his limbs to gradually tear apart.

He’d walked through the simultaneously welcomed and agitation-inducing darkness of his laboratory, his body moving on its own towards the kitchen.

‘Perhaps a little piece of my brain remembered some semblance of a former routine,’ he pondered, as he forced something bland, something tasteless down his throat, suppressing a repulsed gag.

He attempted to distract himself from his terribly slow chewing, from the taste and the texture of the unwanted food in his mouth, swallowing.

He stared down at the rest of the bar he held, grimacing. He allowed himself a sigh, as he tossed the item into the trash with the rest of the food he couldn’t bring himself to finish without vomiting.

-

Stein cranked his screw, the loud screeching in his ears a sound he was long desensitized to.

“Okay, class,” two words managed to successfully leave him, directed to the ones with the expectant and oddly concerned gazes. “Today, we’re going to……

…Uh…”

“Are we dissecting something again?” An annoyed grumble came from somewhere in the front row.

“No. ..We’re…”

His head began to violently throb with each frantic turn of the protruding steel.

‘Think, Goddamnit!’

“We’re.. um..”

“Are you-“

“Oh! Yes. Yes, that’s right. We’re going to be delving further into the history of the field of phasmology.”

-

Fingers massaging his temples, a bluish light flooding his eyes.

Each sentence he tried to read appeared as an entirely different sentence at first, before his second reading.

He spun in his chair once, twice.

He bit into his lip, and he turned his screw.

He whipped his head around, the sensation of a hand touching his scalp, tugging on his hair an obnoxious, somewhat unnerving distraction.

He was unable to focus on his work.

He banged his head against the painted wood of his desk, exacerbating his already disorienting headache.

Stein, with a sigh, pushed himself and his chair away from his computer, allowing the screen to darken until it became blank, until the only thing he could see on the screen was a reflection of himself and his worn appearance.

-

Reminders of dissection and cigarettes left his body and him in agony.

They were all-consuming, all that he could possibly think about, save for the frequent agitated ramble.

He’d pace the halls, he’d jerk and twitch.

He’d dreamt numerous times that he had the comfort of a cigarette hanging from his lips, the comfort of nicotine relaxing his rattled mind, the comfort of the taste and smell of smoke looming on his tongue, looming in his nostrils, and looming in the air around him.

He’d dreamt of a warm body lying on, strapped down to his dissection table, as he’d bring his scalpel of choice down onto the softness of the subject’s skin, digging the blade, with precision, down into the tissue, leaving an incision teeming with blood, shining under his surgical light, in its wake. He’d dreamt of removing each layer - flesh, fat, and muscle - leaving organs and bones left to collect and thoroughly analyze with a giddy, ear-to-ear smile on his face. He’d dreamt of injecting a subject with hydrogen peroxide. He’d even dreamt of harvesting an individual’s bones for the sake of creating his own *authentic* ‘classroom skeleton’ of sorts.

And each time he’d wake up, he’d wake up horrendously pained and disappointed that he could not live within those dreams.

Or perhaps he could. Would it be worth it to go down that path? Would it be worth it to sacrifice all that he had built for himself, all that he had promised to himself as soon as his deterioration became far more overtly imminent?

Anything to experience that cocktail of pure euphoria, sadistic pleasure, and the complete satiation of his supposedly “morbid” curiosities, no? Anything to take the edge off and refresh himself, no? Anything to be in touch with who he truly was, with what his soul truly was, no?

[memethebum]

Finally got a really short oneshot posted

———————————————————————-

If you’d asked Soul whether getting chopped in half or dealing with the aftermath of getting chopped in half was more painful, he’d definitely go with the latter.

However, it wasn’t because of the endless row of pills he’d have to take every week or the way he’d have to visit the offputting school nurse every other day.

The answer painfully came down to his meister and how their relationship had suffered after the incident.

He’d thought their struggling resonance would be a nosedive at first until their mission in London with Black*Star and Tsubaki had left Maka with barely functioning hands and them both with open hearts.

The pair’s month of trepidation had finally mellowed away into them being able to banter over dumb things like who scratched up one of their DVDs or who mixed up their clothing in the washing machine and left Soul with a handful of boxer briefs that’d been tie dyed pink.

They’d both decided to go out for their weekly grocery haul together during one of the weeks that made up their steady trudge back to normalcy, leaving Soul to double check their grocery list while Maka left him a few bills to pay for the items if she wasn’t back from wherever she’d disappeared to.

What’s takin’ her so long? Soul questioned as he tossed their groceries onto the conveyor belt and looked over his shoulder to see if his meister would emerge from one of the aisles behind him.

He then plucked a small packet of Kisses from the small candy section near the register and flung it onto the conveyor belt as well in order for Maka and himself to share the packet on their ride home.

“Cash or card?” the cashier eventually questioned after scanning through each of their items, probing Soul to hand them the stack of cash his meister had given him.

He then grabbed each of the grocery bags while flipping open his phone in case Maka had decided to text him that she was running late.

Soul’s sense of worry culminated even further as he stepped out the store and noticed that the sun’s snoring frame had already begun to set, forcing him to suck in a breath and begin to bolt towards his bike in order to pack up the grocery bags and start looking for Maka.

His mind then flipped into a complete standstill once he saw his meister standing against his motorcycle.

“Where the hell did ya’ run off to!” Soul questioned once he was a few feet away from Maka before watching her jolt in surprise and rise from her slouch against the vehicle.

“I was…next door,” Maka replied while Soul let out a low breath and began to arrange the grocery bags into a tote bag.

“At the florist shop?” Soul added before looking up and allowing his scarlet pupils to meet his meister’s emerald ones as she nodded in agreement and shifted her hands against her back.

“I-um, ok this probably isn’t something a cool guy would want but…” Maka then stammered out before stretching her hands away from her back and revealing a small bouquet of yellow daffodils.

Soul simply stared at the flowers for a few minutes until an absentminded huh escaped from his lips.

“Those’re…for me?” Soul then murmured, earning him a hum from Maka as she gently placed the bouquet into his free hands.

“Yea silly, that’s what I said. Think of it as a…celebratory gift. We beat our losing streak didn’t we?” Maka elaborated, although Soul had become too enraptured with the delicate gradient of yellow and white against each of the petals which made up the bouquet.

He’d never expected to get flowers until the day he dropped dead, especially since they seemed to be a more “girly” fixture that came with things like dating or marriage.

But, he’d notice the haphazard stems of roses strewn across the smooth theatre floor as Wes attempted to hold each of the bouquets he was gifted from yet another successful performance and wonder how such a small form of appraisal made him feel like his brother’s shadow alone could swallow him whole and no one would even care to look for him.

Soul then released a sigh and gently tugged a daffodil free from the bunch, probing Maka to release an apprehensive hum before he placed the flower ontop one of her earlobes.

“Damn right we did, so you deserve these as much I do dummy. Besides, they… uh look good with your hair color,” Soul replied while feeling a wave of blood rush towards the tips of his own earlobes once he caught himself thinking about how pretty Maka looked against the few remaining strands of sunlight that painted a radiant glow onto her face.

“I…um guess I do. Does that mean you like them?” Maka then questioned as she flashed him a sheepish grin, causing Soul’s mouth to unconsciously turn into a grin as well.

“Yea, I guess I do too.”

[froggbones]

Paradise Found, a summer camp AU 🏖️

Read my ongoing fic here!

[sunnyisinsane]

seven several-sentence sunday. Day

Thank you @bcbdrums ! :D I uh . Got carried away . Whoops .

The sound of creaking is occasionally heard through the silence.

My view is focused on one thing though, that man, hand gripping the screw in his head. He's gotten taller since I last saw, Spirit was the tallest man in the "group". I was always forced to be around his friends, what luck that they're all faculty of this damned academy. The sound of a leg bouncing is also here, it's familiar and annoying. I'm not focusing on that though, I can see him in the corner of my eye and I wish I didn't, I've grown to hate the color red because of him. My focus is on the freak nonetheless. Nobody has said anything, just sitting silently at this table. There's stitches all over it. Suddenly, to my right he clears his throat.

"Maka's been good, she's top of her class, she's becoming a great meister!" The man exclaimed nervously.

"I don't care." I glare at my ex husband, he bites his lip, making those stupid panicked noises before looking down, nodding. I was hoping that'd be it until a different voice speaks up.

"Figures you wouldn't care, I mean...when was your last visit?" He smirks, the stitching on his cheek gets pulled back freakishly from the movement. I stand up from my seat.

"You have no right asking that! I needed to get away from this asshole over here! Mothering isn't easy!" Spirit gulps, looking at me after I say this loudly. Stein just stands up as well. "How could you know? You've never done it." He says, blankly, still smiling. As if this is funny.

"Oh, please, you couldn't even take care of a mouse! Honestly it's a wonder Spirit moved back in with you! He only did it because he needs someone to give his pathetic ass a purpose! He's only here because I left!" I slam my fist against the stitched table. .

Stein scoffs, "Spirit's a grown man, he does what he wants. You should know, you clearly couldn't please him or keep him in line."

I gasp, horrified, before I can say something Spirit stands up, embarrassed.

"Stein!"

We both don't acknowledge him, continuing on.

"Spirit is a spineless whore!"

"Kami!"

Stein snorts, but shrugs.

"Like I said, he's a grown man, he can do what he wants. It's his choice to stop acting like a child though." I cross my arms, glaring at Stein as he says this. "Okay guys you're just being mean to me now." A sad voice says underneath everything.

At this point Stein and I have gotten closer, emphasizing our words as we speak, both of our hands on the table as Spirit looks at us pitifully.

"Well he chose me over you! You're just a danger to everyone! I'm the one with the daughter with him!"

"how's that going for you?" Stein grins, looking around the room, as if to emphasize the point that Spirit lives with him again.

"I can see your soul, Stein. You're anxious, you're getting defensive and worried! You act so high and mighty but I can read you, way better than anyone could!" I say, grinning, looking at his soul, my words are true too. Stein may be able to give quick responses but he's always been threatened by me. The man's smile drops, he glances away, furrowing his eyebrows.

"Guys! Please, let's try getting along! Why don't we try resonating?" Spirit says, putting a hand between us. We both get caught off guard. It's silent for a moment before I move away from the table.

"You're so naive, so stupid, if you think I'd ever resonate with Franken Stein!"

"I'd say the same about you," Stein says as he lights his own cigarette. Spirit frowns, pouting. "That has to be the stupidest idea you've had yet." The stitched man shoots a look at Spirit as he says this.

I get up, towards the door. "For once, I agree with Stein here." Spirit's about to cry and Stein just smokes his cigarette quietly.

Then I leave.

Yeah I went a bit overboard there .thanks for the @ again bcb :D I didn't proofread this btw anywho uh

@takeyourcyanide , you . You write . Hi. I am TAGGING you btw you don't have to actually . Do these .

[vulturebeetlesnake]

Seven Several Sentence Sunday

Tagged by @puppys-teeth & @takeyourcyanide <3 Here's a scrap of hurt/comfort that's been languishing in my drafts since early April

Recognition lighting in his eyes, Stein digs in his labcoat pocket for a minute, bringing out a little glass vial, and Spirit doesn't have it in him to recoil from whatever injection he's about to receive - but then Stein unscrews the lid and blows, creating a flock of little rainbow bubbles. Cool, dry hands find his, and press the vial into them. "Try. Even out your breathing and watch them." Fucking bubbles. Fists clenched with the effort, Spirit does his best to reign himself in enough to blow steady through the little wand, watching fragile iridescent orbs float gently down. Stein's smile is soft. "I make them for Crona. I still haven't figured out how to make the shine all-purple." Spirit snorts despite himself. "You're like a rocket scientist who can't tie his shoes." He doesn't so much as blink. "You'd tie them for me." "Of course."

Tagging @bcbdrums if you'd like! ^^

[graylinesspam]

intrigued by ‘in plain sight’ for your wip game!! 💚

"In Plain Sight" is a Soul Eater secret identity Au, that I started like years back. I didn't have the writing ability to give it the execution is deserved at the time but I've gone back and rewritten it a couple of times.

The basic idea is that the DWMA has instituted a rule that all meister and weapon teams have to remain anonymous to the public (to protect their privacy) and also to keep their identities a secret from each other to keep another kishin swallowing his weapon partner situation from happening.

That rule is basically the most broken rule in the dwma though, because good luck keeping resonating partners from finding each other in the same city. Except for super strict meister Maka Albarn whose parents broke the rule, got married, and ended horribly.

Her and her partner Soul are quickly rising through the ranks as the most talented team to date. But they still don't know who each other are underneath the mask.

I'll get around to writing this at some point. But as you know, dear star wars mutual, I am currently occupied with the Clone wars. lol.

but thanks for asking.

[winfreywrites]

" fell in love at the rockshow "

rockstar au, gay boys, kidstar, what else could you ever want in ur life

this is such a cute fic i wanna rip it apart

theres so much good in it and i i i i i i love them so much and the texting bits get my ass and i just GRRRRRR

if you want a nice good kidstar fic with some sillies

https://archiveofourown.org/works/48409594 (by @bridge-demon )

[dwmaudio]

Dear Soul Eater community!

We love our fanfic, we love our audio books, now it’s time to put the two together! Think you have the acting chops to bring your favorite fanfics to life? Or maybe you’re the writing talent wanting to hear your creation!

Voice actors, please complete the following form to be part of this awesome project: https://gforms.app/ki2uA2w

Authors or those who love fanfic may submit scenes via Asks or Submit a Post and we will work on putting them together.

We will post completed works here for everyone to share as well as links to the original fics so you can enjoy the full experience.

Thank you to all for helping make this project happen! We’re so excited to get this going!

[illubean]

👉👈 hello there! :>

Would some Headcanons about Death The Kid with a reader who's kuudere with everyone but tsundere towards him be okay?

DtK with a Kuu/Tsundere

Characters: Death the Kid Type: Headcanons, Gn!reader

random but I think he would listen to twice

Warnings: none

Kid was enamored of you

there was something about your cool and aloof personality that drew him towards you

but what he couldn't understand was why you were so mean to him

he doesn't think he's done anything wrong to you and really wishes you would just tell him if he did

he's under the impression you just don't like him and chalks it up to him being "asymmetrical garbage" :(((

after a week or so of him sulking Liz gets sick of his shit and tells him it's actually the exact opposite

but Kid never listens to her does he

so she calls an emergency Girls (+ Kid) meeting

Maka tells him "They're mean to you because they like you. It might be because they have a hard time expressing it otherwise."

and Tsubaki is like "There's a word for that in Japanese. They're called Tsunderes!"

and with that one word everything finally clicks for Kid

all the times you've snapped at him or made sassy comments with a red face wasn't out of anger

you were blushing

he's a lot less butthurt about it now that he's got you all figured out

every time you say something snappy he's like :3 cus he knows you dont mean it

sometimes he likes to respond a certain way to see you get flustered

and one day he decides to confess so suave omgg

"You're an idiot." "An idiot who wants to take you out."

is he a little embarassed? yes but he already has confirmation you like him back and the way you're quick to turn away from him confirms it

but yeah now that he see's past your facade you are dating and so happy yayy

he doesn't mind your 'tsundere' behavior all too much after that

do not call him asymmetrical tho he will cry

[cannibal-nightmares]

i saw it in the waves in the tea leaves of future days Death to what shimmers and Death to what we left behind it's all fun and games until you see the beast for it's eyes so maybe now you can hear the voice of the highway singing along with the melody hear what I hear and see what I see [it's a quick fix, baby: a trick of the light]

ive had to put writing down this past week but i kinda cant stop thinking abt this au. there's a lot more to it than whats on the tin, and what there ever can be.

[mytheoristavenue]

Day 3 -

SE Franken Stein x Reader - Winter Proposal

Summary: Stein thanks you for staying by his side during the spread of Madness by offering to stay by your side permanently.

Warnings: Fluff, grammatical errors, mentions of poor mental health

Your body shuddered, trudging through ankle-deep snow, alone in the woods. Stein had invited you to his residence for what he called a 'test grading date'. He'd add that word to the back of anything he knew you'd be reluctant to take him up on. He knew how you felt for him, and he knew exactly how to get his way. You knew as well as he did, that in reality, he just wanted you to grade his class' tests in his stead, in exchange for coffee and company.

"Glad you could make it," he smiled warmly, standing in front of his home, about fifty feet away from you.

"Oh, stuff it, Stein," you huffed, stomping towards him. "You know it's like zero degrees out here? And you're making me walk in the snow, you should be ashamed!"

"It's actually fifteen degrees," he corrected with a chuckle. "But, really. Thank you for coming all this way."

"Yeah, yeah," you dismissed, now close to passing him by on the way to the door. "Let's get inside before I freeze to death."

To your surprise, Stein caught you by the wrist, pulling you back. "Not so fast," He skillfully spun you back to him, pulling you closer. "Did you really think I'd make you walk all the way here just to grade papers?"

"Well, yeah..." you swallowed, trying to conceal a blush. "That's totally something you would do."

"Maybe the old me, but I've changed," he replied, a content smile playing on his lips. "For the better, I hope."

"Yeah," you scoffed, rolling your eyes a bit. "I'm sure you feel loads better now that you're not being poisoned."

"I'm serious," he said sternly. "I feel like a new person, and it's all thanks to you."

You could no longer hide your red cheeks as more and more blood rushed to your face. "S-Stein, what are you talking about?"

Cold hands sunk down to the small of your back, pinning you against him as olive eyes bore into you. "Even at my worst, you were there," he praised, tilting his head to the side. "You never gave up on me, no matter how dangerous loving me became. You worked tirelessly to help me, with no reward. I can't thank you enough for that."

Kind, encouraging words from Stein were few and far between, so you'd never gotten accustomed to hearing them, and needless to say, it filled your tummy with butterflies. "T-That's what friends do, right? You'd do the same for me."

"You're not just my friend, (Y/N), you're my biggest support. And...if you'd have me, even after all the times I took your love for granted, I'd like to make you my wife..." From the corner of your eye, you could see him reach into his coat pocket and fish something out. "I can't offer you diamonds or precious metals, but hopefully this," he confessed, raising a hand-crafted steel ring. "Would be enough, for now, at least."

"Oh, Stein..." you breathed, totally speechless. "D-Did you make this yourself?"

"I did," he laughed. "Which is why it looks the way that it does, I'm a doctor, not a jeweler. It's made from repourosed surgical steel, so it's body safe, at least."

You couldn't help but giggle as tears streamed down your face. Looking it over, you could tell it was made terribly, beads of weld speckling it and the silhouette misshapen, but it looked just like Stein did- patched together.

"Should I take your laughter as a no?" he chuckled cooly, still holding you.

You jumped against him in response, needing to be infinitely closer. "Of course, I'll marry you, Franken!" you sobbed, nuzzling his throat. "And the ring is beautiful, I love it."

"That's a relief," he smiled gently, hugging you tightly. "I was almost nervous there."

"I could never reject you, Stein, you know that."

"I do," he agreed, before cracking a grin. "Now, Mrs. Stein, would you do the honor of grading my kids' tests while I make some coffee?"

Taglist:

@usopps-devotee

[takeyourcyanide]

Prey

Possible TWs: Unreality, brief mention of suicide

AO3

Fandom: Soul Eater

Character(s): Franken Stein, Spirit Albarn, Marie Mjolnir, mentions of Azusa Yumi, Mira Naigus, and Sid Barrett

Word count: 3 315

Tags: hurt/no comfort, delirium, unreality, delusions, psychosis, confusion, dreams and nightmares, dreams vs reality, schizophrenia, madness, men crying

Summary: Stein struggles to tell dreams from reality, he struggles with the likes of paranoia and confusion, etc.

Note(s): Pushing through the static to write is like pushing through an avalanche sometimes, but it’s one of the few things I enjoy, so I do so anyway. I wanted to depict the confusion (among other things) that comes along with the static (at least for me), so I hope this comes across properly.

Anguished is he, of whom is reduced to limp and helpless prey for not only the world to seemingly feast upon, but for himself to feast fervently and rabidly upon.

<…….>

Stein had always been viewed as some sort of malevolent force; a predator.

Whether there’s any genuine truth to that statement or not, such a viewpoint spread, be it due to stigma and misconceptions, or a partial truth. Perhaps both.

Unbeknownst to the apparent entirety of everyone else was that his motives were only partially sadistic. He has ripped everything imaginable limb from limb, for the sake of ultimately satiating his scientific curiosity, as well as satiating his sadistic urges.

That same sadism extended towards himself, so it seemed, which left him to often question whether or not he was, too, a bit of a masochist.

<…….>

Stein’s computer screen blared before his eyes as though he were knocking upon the gates of heaven, though it felt much more like he had been dragged down into the deepest pit of hell; an abyss designed specifically for him.

He gazed into the array of pixels, a debilitating and delirium-inducing fog conquering him, as he felt whatever cognition had remained slipping through his lithe, pale, and trembling fingers.

It was one of the few thoughts that had ever managed to bring tears to his hollow eyes. His intellect was a treasured, a prized aspect of him; it was almost all he ever had - at least that’s what it seemed like in retrospect, as his previously excellent memory blurred and gasped for air like the ground from underneath the rubble of a massive and fallen building.

It was as though he had been a simultaneously third and first-party observing as his brain deteriorated, decomposing before his very eyes. He had been watching and psychoanalyzing as it all crashed down since utero. And from the moment he could conceptualize the neurobiological differences he was born with, he knew that, though he had refused to accept it, he had no chance at ever living.

When you begin early, you finish early.

The text of the paper on the screen appeared to morph, shifting and becoming completely different words after Stein was repeatedly forced to do multiple double-takes.

Franken sighed in mild frustration, deep and troubled as the biology normally so easy for him to comprehend became utterly indiscernible, incomprehensible, and a messy jumble of word salad. He massaged the bridge of his nose, as well as the skin in between his eyebrows in a circular motion, trying his best to remember how to breathe.

He moved his eyes to the lower right of the monitor, the clock in the corner reading ‘07:38.’

Stein’s eyes narrowed in annoyance, as he stood abruptly from his chair, shoving it away. He was almost forty minutes late to work.

He knew his ability to perceive time had been absolutely annihilated, but it never became any easier, nor did it become any less disorienting, ultimately leaving him to rub at his temples, shaking his head with a confused and feverish grimace.

He audibly groaned, lost within the hazy and murky forest with no way out.

At least he was already dressed.

<…….>

Stein trudged through the DWMA’s doors, hair unkempt and under-eyes appearing as though charcoal had been smeared upon them.

“Stein?” Spirit sounded rather confused as Stein marched into the Death Room expectantly and barely prepared to work. “What are you doing here?”

“What do you mean? I work here,” the meister’s eyebrows were furrowed, as he was stuck within a continuous and hellish state of befuddlement.

He snuck glances around the room, Lord Death and Marie staring at him with an expression of pity and concern, causing Stein to sneer.

“Don’t you remember? We’re letting you off for a little while. You should be at your lab right now,” the weapon stated, too, sounding terribly worried. Franken wished they’d simply stop pretending. It was clear they were only judging him, whispering vile things about him, mocking him when he wasn’t there to witness it.

“Oh… That wasn’t a dream?” Stein huffed, flabbergasted and unwillingly under the microscopic lenses that were their telling, needy, and greedy eyes, as even the overly bossy and critical Azusa was present in the room, along with the likes of Sid and Naigus.

Not only had it all seemed like one big dream, including the present, but it felt as though it had happened years ago - as though it were distant.

“No, Stein…. It was yesterday.”

Yesterday? What even happened yesterday?

He once again turned his head from side to side, a slow and searching motion.

He covered his face with his freezing hands, fingers spread just enough that he could see their distorting and foreign faces from in between each of them.

“Why don’t we get you home?” Spirit offered, a kind and caring gesture that was rendered nothing but conspicuous and threatening in the forest, amongst the thick and strident static.

“No.. No…. I can make it by myself,” he shakily mumbled, hands still gripping the flesh of what is supposedly his face.

“Are you sure? You don’t look well,” Death Scythe raised an eyebrow in suspicion, eyeing his former partner up and down.

And the truth was, he really didn’t. He no longer simply appeared as though he were a moving corpse anymore, he genuinely looked as though he had been mangled by some creature only days prior; his insomnia was more obvious than it had ever been, not to mention how slouched he was and how stiff his every movement was. It was as if Stein was relearning how to properly walk.

“Have I not managed to every other time?”

‘But you look like the thin, frail, and worn out thread you’ve been hardly hanging onto all your life has finally torn,’ Spirit thought to himself, exhibiting every last bit of self-control not to voice his opinion aloud.

“It’s okay to rely on people sometimes. We’re here for you. Let me take you home,” he said instead.

Stein fervently demurred against his suggestion, the very prospect of being lead back to his laboratory seemed to raise the volume of the radio.

“No. Let me go alone,” he almost pouted, his face twitching all over, as he was genuinely unsure what facial expression he should be making, and how he could even facially express what he was experiencing at all; flickering back and forth between every face, none suiting what he wanted to convey, or really, wasn’t certain he wanted to convey.

“I’m not going to let you just go alone in the state you’re in,” Stein clenched his atypically tight chest, sharp aches echoing throughout his sternum.

Spirit moved closer to the twitchy meister, not missing how Stein seemed to flinch farther away.

“Come on, Franken. Just let me walk you home, at the very least,” as the scythe peered downwards at the hand soothing over his chest, an almost sorrowful and tender glint appeared in his eyes, the volume further rising, the scientist’s ears surely leaking blood by now.

“Fine,” there was no point in continuing to stubbornly refuse the weapon’s proposal. Even if he left by his lonesome, the weapon would surely be knocking on his steel doors come nightfall.

A small smile made its way on Spirit’s face, as he replied gently with, “Well, all right, then.”

<…….>

The incessant, persistent, all-encompassing noise rose to unprecedented levels as he walked side by side with Mr. Suit and Tie, refusing to even so much as peek at his skinsuit.

Agitation spread throughout his body like cancer, overtaking his motor skills, leaving him squirmy, irritable, impatient, and robotic; only further exacerbated by the snickering and obnoxiously refulgent sun.

It left him childishly desiring to fall to the ground and throw a tantrum, to kick and to scream cacophonously, to sob and hiccup, and cross his arms over his ever-tightening chest, as he bit into the plush skin of his bottom lip as a distraction.

The static combined with the luminous summer day, combined with not being in control of his own decisions due to certain people believing him to be “unstable” was simply all too much; overstimulating.

Everything was too furiously hot and yet too frigid simultaneously; too loud and too quiet. All of that, not even including how his day clothes were brushing against his skin, feeling too small and too big, itchy and too smooth at the same time. It was as though the turtleneck, one of the few articles of clothing he didn’t refuse to wear, was suddenly strangling him; even his coat was now too heavy upon his shoulders, too clunky. It was all much too clunky.

And then Spirit pushed the creaky doors open.

Stein’s hands immediately flew up to cover his ears for the brief moment the sound reverberated, pathetic tears welling up in his eyes as he burned holes in his shoes.

He dug his teeth even further into his lip, wincing at the shooting pain that action garnered.

“Stein? What’s wrong? Why aren’t you coming inside?” Albarn softly and confusedly questioned, standing halfway inside of the laboratory. “Why are you staring at the floor?”

Stein’s hands were still cupped over his ears, moving upwards and yanking on his hair, his expression petulant as Spirit was finally able to get a semi-decent look at him.

“Hey, hey, don’t do that, why are you crying?” A tiny sob fell out from the normally resilient and unnervingly apathetic meister’s mouth, Spirit’s eyes widening, his arms rising aimlessly as he scrambled for anyway to comfort the male.

Stein rolled his inner cheek between his teeth, eagerly hoping to muffle his blubbering as he knew Spirit and everyone else who happened to hear about his little moment of weakness would take advantage of him in some way.

But that particular train of though only seemed to make him cry harder, the ball swirling in his chest tightening to the point of explosion; similarly to a taut rubber band tying around his heart, compressing and compressing until the organ itself exploded into an internally bloody mess.

The hands previously pulling at his hair once again fell to his chest, gripping and grappling, as Stein forgot how to properly inhale and exhale, his breaths unsteady, but not to the point of hyperventilation.

A certain fear he wasn’t sure he had ever felt rose within him, beating against the confines of his muscles, skeleton, his flesh to escape.

“Come on, why don’t we get inside? Wouldn’t that make you feel better?” Spirit placed a perturbed hand on Stein’s shuddering shoulder, of whom leaped backwards. “I’m sorry, I won’t touch you again.”

The corners of the scientist’s mouth twitched wildly, almost as though it were attempting a smile, tears still freely running down his rosy cheeks.

He smacked a hand over his mouth, folding in on himself, practically convulsing as uncontrollable and unfitting giggles escaped his mouth vigorously, nearly choking attempting to cease his own unwanted laughter.

The foreboding expression mixed with, danced with the cracking grin, as he glanced over at Spirit, a horrified and vulnerable look in his eyes.

The disquietude contorting Spirit’s countenance had seemingly been, though certainly not entirely, assuaged by something, as he returned to his former position partially inside of the lab.

“Can you make it in here on your own, or do you need help?” His voice was hushed, but rather sweet in a way Franken had never heard from the man before.

He put one foot in front of the other whilst laughing uproariously, Albarn pursing his lips as the manic giggles filled his ears like a disconcerting and scratched record.

The record shrieking, bellowing from the speakers of the old radio had risen in volume to the point of no return. And all Stein could do in the face of the growing and clamoring shadows was weep and cackle. He was now to be laid out for the entirety of the desert to know and scrutinize.

And though he never once cared about a singular person’s opinion of him, the viewpoints of the flowing river rushing with what may as well be a liquidized form of the status quo would always sway the viewpoint’s of others, effectively sweeping the already swept rug right out from underneath him.

“Do you wanna sit on the couch? Or.. I think it would be a good idea if you tried to get a nap,” Stein’s visage was blank in emotion, only a few tears left to roll, his mouth closed shut despite the tittering attempting to flow out like a stream of water. It admittedly appeared rather… interesting to anyone who wasn’t the meister, as his figure shook with what could be mistaken as mirth, while no other aspect of him followed suit.

Stein shrugged his shoulders in response, standing awkwardly as though he was a guest in his own house.

“Come on,” he waved the meister over. “Why don’t you go back to bed?”

He apprehensively objected the notion, standing still, the laughter slowly but surely dying down.

“Why not?” The ginger prodded as if he truly believed he would be given a verbal elucidation. “…… Okay, why don’t we just sit down, then?”

Stein obeyed, moving to plop down onto the sofa, a falling sensation holding his body hostage. He felt himself being pulled down as if he had dived off of a building; a random suicidal whim, an impulse. He wasn’t exactly a stranger to those.

<…….>

Stein’s eyes shot open as he caught his breath, his face oddly moist and his body drenched with sweat.

He was breathing fast and hard, his heart pumping, banging against his sore chest; something of which seldom happened.

He lifted his quivering fingers, dabbing them onto his cheeks, as if to take a sample.

Upon observation, upon even licking the salty liquid from off of his fingers for the sole sake of clarity, it was safe to determine that he was crying.

Stein squinted his eyes, scanning the room, his vision blurred undoubtedly from the tears, though it was possible he also needed the aid his glasses offered him.

He patted around his bed and his nightstand in search of the aforementioned glasses, only to find that he had fallen asleep with his frames on his face, lenses covered in the same wetness covering his fingers.

He cleaned the lenses with his shirt, jittery and with an aching stomach and head.

‘Was that a dream? No… That just happened yesterday, didn’t it? Or was it a week ago? How much of that did and did not happen? When…? No,’ the endless misty haze of confusion seemed to torture him endlessly as he placed his glasses beside him.

He needed a shower. And the very thought of standing in the mirrored room paralyzed him; the same room with the camera-filled vents. Though all of his rooms had that… They were most likely selling the videos they’d take of his most vulnerable and private moments to strangers… His body was to be passed around and enjoyed, wasn’t it?

He bit at his fingers, even unconsciously suckling on them at the volume rose impossibly and impressively more so.

But he had work to accomplish, not even just at the academy - or did they actually temporarily suspend him from his duties? Was that just the dream?

Stein threw the covers from off of his body. Evidently he’d need to wash the sheets as well, given how soaked they were.

Exhausting nightmares were all he had anymore.

<…….>

The warm water trickled down Stein’s neck, falling smoothly from his collarbone, and down to his thoracic and abdominal cavities, making rounds around his thighs, and pooling under his feet.

He stood there, immobilized by nothing at all for a moment. It was almost as if, though not quite, he was not allowed to move, to control his own extremities.

He pondered for a moment those ghastly and ghostly beings which followed him into the bathroom, never allowing him even a fraction of time to himself, and how, while he often wished for them to disappear, he hadn’t a single clue as to what he’d do without them.

The static sung hell-born lullabies to him, words of the shadows culminating inside of his skull like echoes of the distant past, or of an imminent and inevitable future; a reminder that the present would never be his to own. Even his own thoughts were not to ever belong to him.

He was within its domain, born seated upon its throne, for it was, too, his, as he was ‘it’ and ‘it’ was him - simultaneously, still, existing as almost separate entities; the predator and the prey, except in this particular falsified, quasi-play, the predator’s prey just so happened to be the predator itself.

Stein managed to twitch his middle finger.. Then his ring, then his pointer, his pinky, and his thumb.

He relearned how to contract his muscles, how to outstretch his arms, as he began to move.

He’d rub shampoo and conditioner in his hair, scratching the shampoo into his scalp, and observing as it seeped through his follicles and into his body just as the noise had.

His heart did not pump the same blood as everyone else’s. That much was apparent. And he could not force it to. Was he to give in to the forest? Did he have a choice in the matter?

<…….>

Stein trudged once more throughout the cobblestone streets, seeking answers.

He pushed the academy doors open, a few curious glances coming his way as students and staff alike whispered amongst one another. He didn’t always mind such attention, as a matter of fact, he often found it rather amusing. At times, he could even find himself being partial to it. But in times such as this, times when it fed the avalanche raining down in his mind, he wished everyone would simply forget he ever existed. He wished passionately that he were the invisible observer he often forgot that he wasn’t.

“Spirit,” Stein called out into the Death Room, even more bewildered glances given to him.

“Stein?” The scythe sounded so surprised to see the man, he had to wonder why.

“Have I been suspended already?” He asked the question as though it were the most urgent and important of questions.

“Stein… You were let off over a week ago. Don’t you remember?”

Those words resounded within Stein, echoing and bouncing off the walls as the world around him spun, crumbling down as the very fabric of reality tore apart.

“It was a week?” Stein choked out, his eyes bulging out from their sockets, his ears ringing inharmoniously.

He whipped his head around the whole room, covering his face just as he had in the dream, moving his hands to the sides of his head, as he stood with both of his legs in his reality and a mere fingertip in their reality.

What?

“What day is it again?”

“It’s the twenty-sixth of July,” Marie helpfully answered, sounding awfully concerned. “It’s a Thursday.”

Stein ripped his hands away from his head, pulling them back down and peering at them. Was he even real? Were they real? Were they demons wearing the skin of his friends? What was going on? Where was he, truly? Who was he?

And most importantly,

how did he last this long in the first place?

It had become overwhelmingly apparent over the years that he was the strongest person he knew.

But being the strongest never guarantees you’ll survive on the battlefield. No matter who you are, you’re more likely to die a gruesome and empty death than not. A death in which you are left to rot. And that had also become abundantly clear to Stein.

He knew it. He had always known it.

He wasn’t going to make it to thirty.

<——————>

An incredibly fitting song:

[memethebum]

Got a new oneshot posted that’s semi spicy hehe 🌶️🫣

————————————————————————

If there was a list of things that’d make Soul’s body feel like it was being set ablaze, he’d never guess that making out with Maka Albarn would ever be made a reality.

However, that action seemed to occurring a lot recently and the fact that they were locking lips in his own personal backrooms made the situation feel even more bewildering.

The Deathscythe felt as if he was slowly sinking in passion at the present, with the steadfast grip Maka’s hands had on his Black Room suit adding to the experience until he realized she was actually toppling over and taking him down with her.

“Ah-ah fuck Maka, you ok?” Soul questioned while he pushed the velvet curtain shadowing his head away with a quick swat of his hand.

Wait, if we fell through the curtains, that must mean…he then thought, only to watch as Maka flipped around and began to take in their surroundings.

“You never told me there was more to this place?” the young woman quipped before turning her head to face him.

“There’s not much here. It’s kinda like the backlog of my inner self of whatever the fuck that main room is made of,” Soul then explained as he jabbed a finger at the Black Room proper behind them.

“The backlog?” Maka murmured before suddenly getting up and venturing further into the area, earning her a guffaw from Soul.

“I’m tellin’ ya’, there’s nothing interesting back here so let’s just go dance to something-“ the Deathscythe attempted to explain, only to jump in surprise once he heard the screech of a harp Maka had grazed her hands against.

The young woman then regarded him with an apologetic look before it mellowed out into an inquisitive one a moment later.

“My father thought it’d be cool for me n’ Wes to learn ta’ play random instruments. I actually kinda liked playin’ the harp but…” Soul explained before his voice began to slowly trail off as he recalled trembling under his father’s seething gaze after not playing on the same level as Wes.

“Sorry…” Maka murmured, pulling the Deathscythe out of the memory just in time to see his meister walk towards him with a solemn expression.

“I shouldn’t have just started prodding around like that,” the young woman added, eliciting a sigh out of Soul.

“Nah, s’ fine. It’s not as if I’m tryin’ to run from the bad stuff anymore,” Soul replied as he felt Maka’s palms begin to rest against his cheeks before he looked down and gave her an encouraging nod.

The Deathscythe then began to lead her through the differing knickknacks he had collected around the room, which ultimately spurred into them making out once more.

It was then that Soul noticed a narrow doorway situated at the corner of the room, probing Maka into peppering another chaste kiss onto his lips and then turning around to see what had suddenly piqued his interest.

The young woman then regarded him with an arched eyebrow before he raised his shoulders into a shrug and began to walk towards the cryptic entryway.

It took no time for Soul to twist the ornate doorknob and fling the door open before feeling completely mortified at not being able to discern what laid within the room in advance.

The Deathscythe could hear Maka take in a breath as they both gazed upon the king sized bed sitting in the center of the room with a haphazard pile of rose petals leading from the doorway towards the fixture.

He could practically feel the silk black bedsheets which had been neatly splayed ontop the mattress and pillows like they would’ve been at every one of his family’s vacation homes. His thoughts then shifted to how the area had been tied together by the cerulean blue light emanating from the candles surrounding the bed, with the dancing flames almost seeming to taunt the pair to throw themselves into the room and get to business.

Soul then slammed the door shut, only to feel Maka’s palm come rest upon his knuckles a split second afterwards.

“Sorry, you shouldn’t-“

“I’ve thought about it too,” Maka added, probing Soul to release a low breath and watch as the young woman gave him a bashful smile in understanding.

“You’ve thought about doing it…with me?” the Deathscythe questioned, earning him a snort from Maka.

“What, did I actually kiss you silly? Of course I’ve wanted it to be with you and only you Soul! So, you don’t need to hide it from me,” the young woman then urged while tightening her grip upon his hand, which remained glued to the doorknob.

“Actually…” Maka then added, triggering a mutual thought between the pair.

“You actually…” Soul replied before immediately noticing the sly smile that’d immediately plastered onto the young woman’s face.

“It looks like that room is just sitting there collecting dust, so why not? Only-only if you’re up for it too, of course,” the young woman exclaimed while leaning forward and beginning to circle one of her deft fingers around the thick cloth covering his chest.

Me, her, us havin’ sex in my mind??? the Deathscythe then thought, only to feel his mind go completely blank when he tried to think of any reason as to not initiate another form of intimacy with someone he’d sacrifice himself for in a heartbeat.

“Maka, I just-I can’t promise I can make it ta’ home base-“

“It doesn’t matter to me. I want whatever makes us both happy,” Maka then interjected, causing Soul to level his scarlet pupils with her emerald ones and find a hint of trepidation in her eyes.

He was able to chase away her worries about him by quickly slanting his lips against hers once more, probing the young woman to let out a throaty hum and deepen the kiss.

They continued their fervent clashing before the Deathscythe felt Maka bite his lower lip and begin to tousle her hand around for the door knob, allowing the pair to push past the doorway a moment afterwards.

Soul then unclapsed his lips from hers for a split second, only for the young woman to fling him against the edge of the empty doorway a moment later.

He could practically feel Maka’s heart thump against his chest as they both took in a few shallow breaths before she broke the small interlude with a coy smile.

Soul couldn’t help but release a giggle at the action while the young woman began to run her palms against his stubble and then pull him down for another set of kisses.

Their lips danced to the familiar rhythm they’d created until Maka slowly trailed her lips against his jaw before eventually nibbling against the crux of his neck, causing Soul to wonder if there’d be any physical traces of their escapades afterwards.

“Hahh…” the Deathscythe stammered out as he felt Maka shirk his vest across his shoulders, eliciting him to envelop her into his arms.

The young woman then let out a startled gasp from the sudden action before Soul lifted her up and into his arms.

“Can’t let ya’ have all the fun,” Soul explained while sprinting across the room and throwing them onto the plush mattress.

The Deathscythe then gazed down to see Maka giggling in his arms, probing him to let out a low laugh of his own before resting his fingers against her chin and feeling her lips against his once more.

The young woman immediately let out a low moan before teasing her tongue against Soul’s teeth, eliciting him to groan in response while feeling her hands sink into his misshapen locks of hair in order to push his lips further against hers.

“Mm…you ok?” Maka eventually breathed out as they pulled apart, allowing Soul to discern how flushed her face had already become from their lip locking.

“Yea…” the Deathscythe replied, although he slowly became much too preoccupied with planting a trail of kisses down Maka’s neck.

The young woman’s hands then moved to pull against Soul’s hair once more after he began to gently run his teeth against the sleek end of her shoulder blade, only for him to buck in pain a split second later due to the end of her heel clashing against his knee.

“S-sorry!” Maka squeaked out as the Deathscythe reached down to rub his hand against the appendage.

“S’ alright. It didn’t hurt that bad,” Soul exclaimed before releasing a huff and beginning to kick his own shoes off his feet.

“Here, lemme just…” he continued while stretching out a hand to Maka, who let out an intrigued hum before sliding her fingers against his and allowing him to lead her towards the edge of the bed.

The Deathscythe then got onto his knees in front of the young woman, causing his heart to beat erratically as he gently began to loosen the binds of her heels and toss the footwear to the side.

He then dared a glance up at Maka, who simply gazed at him with an intensity he’d feel everytime they’d initiate sloppy makeouts or litter the other’s skin with love bites.

His hands began to gently rest against the satin texture of Maka’s dress before he slowly began to pull it upwards, allowing him to take in the heavenly expanse of her legs beneath the fabric.

The wavering rhythm of his heartbeat became an afterthought as soon as he placed a kiss against one of Maka’s knee and felt her let out an approving hum at where this was headed.

Soul then allowed her dress to spill from one of his hands so he could run small reverent circles against each patch of skin that was left behind while he continued to trail a set of kisses against both of the young woman’s legs.

It only took a few more pecks across Maka’s toned thighs for him to notice her lacy gray panties, which ignited his restlessness once more.

He slowly trailed his lips against her inner thigh before placing a languid kiss just inches away from her sensitive spot.

The sigh Maka released seemed to be instantaneous, allowing Soul to release a shallow breath against her quivering hips.

“Death, don’t stop,” Maka groaned before he felt one of her hands reach out and claw against his shoulder.

The Deathscythe let out a hum in understanding as he shifted the dress up towards her chest, allowing him a moment to caress his hands against her firm hips and trail a set of kisses up the length of her bare stomach and row of toned abs.

He then finally helped Maka pull the bunched fabric of the dress over her head and off her body, causing his breath to hitch while she let out a giggle and began to run her hands through her unruly locks of hair.

“You’re-you’re so fuckin’ beautiful,” Soul sighed while slowly taking in the weight of just how ethereal his meister looked partially naked above him.

His eyes slowly trailed over her smooth flesh and supple muscles once more, allowing his mind to solidify the thought of how a goddess could be in the same room as his meister and his heart would still know who to knell before and worship with his entire body and soul.

“You’re too good to me,” Maka then sighed before she reached out and stroked one of her hands against his cheek.

“Could say the same bout’ you,” Soul replied while taking the young woman’s hand and gently pressing his lips onto her knuckles, only to feel her grip both his hands and snake them towards her back as an invitation to unclasp her bra.

His hands jittered against her spine for a moment before the bra fell into his hands, earning him a sigh from Maka as she stretched her back once her soft tufts of pale skin and pert nipples were completely set free from the undergarment.

A brief silence then passed between the pair before the Deathscythe tentatively began to knead one of the young woman’s breasts, probing her to shift against him once more.

His mouth dipped down to take Maka’s other nipple into his mouth as he felt her arch into his touch, causing him to speed up his prodding in order to show her just how much he wanted to beat the crap out of his younger self for chastising her simply because he was too much of a coward to admit how beautiful he thought she was.

He then felt Maka’s hands begin to pull his head away from her quivering figure, allowing him to pause and take in a few heaving breaths.

“Was-was that good?” Soul sighed out as he began to plant a few kisses around the young woman’s neck.

“Yea…more than that. It was great!” Maka replied while she ran her fingers against the small peek of Soul’s bare chest, causing him to suck in a breath as she slid off his dress jacket and tossed the crimson shirt next to it after she’d stripped him down to his boxers.

Her arms then wrapped around his waist and hoisted him ontop of her.

“Do you want me to return the favor or…” the young woman questioned as Soul felt a warmth begin to settle within his chest once his body stilled against hers.

“Nah, maybe not this time…” the Deathscythe responded before feeling Maka let out a sigh underneath him.

“I know, it’s lame….I’m sorry I can’t give ya’-“

“Don’t apologize! I was only asking because I wanted to make sure you were comfortable. And Death, the only reason this feels so good is because you’re doing it with me,” Maka exclaimed, causing Soul to let out a thoughtful chuckle and allow his hands to run against her arms.

He then felt the young woman glide one of her hands along the back of his neck, which served as a precursor to the row of pinpricks which began to form around the end of his scalp once their lips molded into another heated kiss.

His hands wasted no time sliding against each bend of her collarbones before slowly working towards her breasts, eliciting Maka to gasp against his lips as his fingers danced against her soft flesh.

The action allowed the Deathscythe to break the kiss and lower his gaze towards Maka’s panties, only to feel her clasp her hands against his own a moment later.

His gave her a thoughtful gaze for a split second before his shaky hands began to tug down the undergarment from her hips, leaving him a clear view of how much their ministrations had been working on her.

“You…still good?” Soul coughed out as he massaged his hand against one of Maka’s thighs, earning him a huff while she slid her legs against his torso.

“Yes! At least, I’ll definitely be once you hurry this up a bit…if you want to of course,” Maka giggled while leveling her eyes towards him, probing the Deathscythe to let out a chuckle as well.

“I’m happy with whatever my meister wants,” Soul then responded before planting a small peck below her stomach.

He then began to rub against her entrance with a few swipes of his finger, probing Maka to let out a low moan before he moved his finger into her warmth.

“Don’t stop!” the young woman exclaimed as her own fingers shot downwards to tightly grasp Soul’s hair, causing him to stretch out another finger and start a steady pace with his appendages.

He could feel his own body become light from the experience, almost as if Maka was wielding him in the midst of battle.

The Deathscythe then felt himself get tethered to the moment once more as Maka’s stronghold upon his scalp shifted towards one of his hands, probing him to add his thumb into the shaky but ardent symphony he’d created.

“Oh, oh Death, I love you!” Maka exclaimed, causing Soul’s throat to tighten while he gazed into the ethereal glow of her mossy pupils against the blue candlelight.

He then rested his head against hers, focusing on nothing but their erratic heartbeats shooting out in place before Maka’s hands came crashing down onto his back with a final buck from her hips onto his fingers.

They collided in a lethargic manner for a few moments until the young woman allowed Soul to pull away with a quick kiss onto his lips.

The Deathscythe then let out a low huff before slumping onto the bed beside Maka, causing him to notice the steady rise and fall of her chest as she began to regain her composure.

“You..did you finish?” Soul questioned while he felt the young woman’s breath ghost against his chest once she planted her face next to his heart.

“Mhmmm, and it felt amazing! Was it…alright to you?” Maka replied, probing the Deathscythe to let out a chuckle before snaking a hand across her spine.

“Yea, it kinda felt like we were resonating,” Soul added, probing the young woman to let out an amused hum of her own.

The pair then nuzzled against one another in a comfortable silence, only for it be broken by the sound of Soul fidgeting around the covers in order to gaze down at Maka.

“Hey Maka,” the Deathscythe whispered before the young woman let out a sigh in response.

“I-I love you. Sorry for…not sayin’ it sooner,” Soul added while hearing the soft swish of fabric rustle under him before Maka bore her eyes on him once more, with the gentle grip of her palm against his scar serving as the only gesture he needed to know she understood the weight behind those words.