So this is a 100-flash fiction challenge, but the gimmick is that I made it up myself (with help from others). If you care about the "rules" and the full list of words they're on my profile.
Otherwise, basically I'm just doing ten at a time and posting them all in one chapter. Most of them are fluffier than a bunny's butt; you have been warned. Rating for now is T although that may (probably will) change in future chapters. The pieces are not necessarily related to each other; they're meant to sort of stand alone.
The word definitions are mostly paraphrased from Dictionary dot com and the Merriam-Webster Online dictionary. You probably won't need them in this chapter...but in future chapters you might.
1. cake (a compressed mass of matter)
"Maka!" Soul stood in front of the mirror, gingerly poking a spot on his neck. "You caked so much freakin' makeup on that it's just more obvious now."
She put the makeup set down on the sink dejectedly. "Well, I guess I'll just have to keep trying...or we could rinse it off and start again..."
He grimaced. It wasn't that he didn't want to hide the thing too, but they'd been at this for an hour.
"Come on, Soul, the whole school can't see that I gave you a...a hickey..." She sighed, then eyed it and said in a small voice, "It was an accident, I swear. I can't believe I got so overenthusiastic like that..."
Soul moved toward her and smirked. "I can. By the way," he added in the deepest, huskiest voice he could possibly muster, "that was kinda hot."
Maka blushed, but couldn't seem to hold back a little grin. "I...I always thought you'd be the one doing stuff like that. Because of...you know. Your teeth."
"Nah. I'm used to 'em. They're not really that sharp anyway. I won't leave marks that easily." He edged close enough that he knew she'd feel his breath on her ear as he spoke. "Unless you want me to..."
2. entangled (involved in a difficult situation, perplexed)
Shit shit shit, Soul thought as his left leg buckled under extreme pain in his Achilles' tendon. Somewhere in the background, he could hear sinister laughter and his rental car keys dropping to the pavement.
An unfamiliar, leering face crawled out from underneath the car. Soul tried to transform his right arm into a scythe so he could fight from the ground.
His left arm transformed instead.
He paused, a little confused, but decided he could try using his left arm...
His right arm, still fleshy and useless, starting swinging around.
"What - what the hell is going on?!" he growled through gritted teeth. For every command his brain gave to one arm or leg, the opposite would spring into action. And it wasn't even possible to control both at once.
All he'd wanted to do was go to the damn grocery store.
"Nerve bewitchment," his assailant said in a sing-song voice. "You may not know me, but I definitely know you," he added through a smile like cyanide. He was wiping off a small glowing blade, then tucked it away and held up a syringe full of something white.
Soul was starting to thrash around in vain, movements uncontrolled, ankle bleeding profusely, as the needle approached the side of his neck.
Then a large book came flying out of nowhere and collided with the man's head. The syringe fell harmlessly to the ground.
"I won't let you touch my weapon, you bastard," said Maka's voice. Soul could practically feel the relief rush through his veins as she kneeled down and grabbed his hand urgently. "Can you transform, Soul?"
He tried. It hurt like hell but if he focused on resonating with Maka's soul and transforming his whole body instead of what was happening with his limbs, he would be able to do it...
Maka hefted him into the air. "And now you're going to see why messing with us is a bad idea," she said.
3. tranquil (free from turmoil, calm)
This is a good example of how the apartment is when nothing else is going on:
Soul is lying on his bed, eyes closed but not sleeping. He's listening to complex jazz music. It's playing as loudly as he can get away with. He's listening intently, following the strands of notes and visualizing their paths in his mind. They're tangling together, untangling now, swelling and falling. They make him think of colors and shapes and, eventually, places; places he's been as well as scenery he can only imagine. He focuses on them to meditate, to return to a place of calm.
He can't see souls like Maka can. But he still knows she's here, because he saw her go into her room. She's in a good mood, if a little overexcited about some book. Sometimes she doesn't like to be around people while she's reading because her focus gets so intense. The idea makes him smirk.
Soul doesn't care much for the typical "intellectual pursuit." But he's still always got a lot going on in his mind. To those thoughts he dozes off.
Maka is just finishing a book. This time she's lounging on her own bed. She puts the enormous tome down and sighs contentedly, staring at the ceiling while she processes what she's learned. She feels that her world has been expanded a bit; now she knows about people and things and places she might never have encountered without this book. Knowledge, even just the knowledge that something exists, is like a vague connection to something. Maka can almost feel her connections all over the globe.
She hears some jazz playing from Soul's bedroom, just below the level where she would complain about it if she were studying. Since their trials in the Book of Eibon, Maka no longer feels threatened by music.
She doesn't really "get it," still, but she feels free to listen and ponder for a while. This piece could be quite enjoyable, actually. Soul has said she should "just stop thinking so much" when she tries to understand music. Maka doesn't exactly know how to do that. She muses for a while about what that could mean, even.
But it's getting late. Maka grudgingly gets up off the bed to go start dinner.
Blair is napping in the slanted afternoon sunlight on the floor, eyes closed in contentment. Later tonight, she will go snooping through her roommates' personal things. But for now, she's just letting the golden sun wash over her. She opens a smug eye as Maka walks past.
4. go (to proceed)
Soul wondered whether he should follow her out.
She'd been so upset. She had put down the phone and strode swiftly, stiffly to the door. Her voice cracked as she said, "I'll be back...later."
Yeah...he should give her a little time to cool down, but then go. She might need to be reminded that he's here.
He found her lying on her back on a park bench. There was no one around, and she had her eyes closed, but she didn't look lax enough to be asleep. She seemed to have been crying recently but was calm at the moment.
"Hey Maka," he began. He spoke slowly and cautiously, not entirely sure he was even welcome here. "Look, I'm pretty sure your mother just has some personal issues to work out. And I know it's nothing about you."
She waited for him to finish, then sat up and patted the spot on the bench next to her, where he sat down. They both stared off into the sky.
"Soul. I've been thinking a lot. And I really wanted to tell you that I'm glad you're here."
5. temple (a place devoted to worship)
"This is where you will worship your god from now on," Black Star crowed, dramatically gesturing at the interior of the new apartment. "And you." He pointed directly at Soul. "I challenge you to battle me...with video games!"
"Yeah, you're on." Soul smirked. "Let me show you how it's done."
Maka rolled her eyes.
"Here, while they're doing that, I'll show you around," Tsubaki said. "How've you been? We haven't had much time to talk lately," she said as they rounded the corner to tour the bedroom. The single bedroom.
"Not much has changed, really," Maka answered honestly. "We've been as busy in school as you and Black Star have." She glanced around and then asked quietly, "Tsubaki. Is it - is it weird? Sleeping in the same room with Black Star?"
Tsubaki smiled. "Not at all. Our old place only had one bedroom, so we're used to it. This time we decided it wouldn't be worth the extra rent a second one would cost.
Maka nodded, but still looked unsure of herself. "So I guess you guys didn't have to actually agree to it in the first place. It's not like you had to ask him or anything."
Tsubaki gave Maka a sly little grin. "This isn't entirely about me and Black Star, is it?"
6. eternity (forever)
What a New Year's Eve - nothing but Shibusen missions all day.
The one benefit was being outside five minutes before midnight in Nevada, having taken out the last evil soul of the night.
"Oh! Soul!" Maka said. "It's almost time for the Death City fireworks and we can see them from here...let's just watch them and go home after."
"Uhh...okay," Soul said, too tired to argue even though all he wanted to do was collapse on his bed.
They sat on a rock and stared expectantly into space - into the patch of eternity where they were expecting fireworks to appear shortly.
...Eternity, huh? Now would probably be as good a time as any. Heart pounding, Soul reached for his meister's hand. She stiffened for a moment in surprise, but then leaned her head, wordlessly, against his shoulder.
"Ah, they're starting," she breathed softly. The first firework exploded in the sky.
Later that night, she clung to him more tightly than usual on the motorcycle as they rode peacefully toward eternity together.
7. mass (a large, disorganized bundle)
As the door swung open, Tsubaki, Black Star, and Death the Kid were welcomed to Soul and Maka's apartment by a hunched figure covered in a burrito of blankets.
"Oh, you really did need help," Kid said.
"Thanks," Maka mumbled as Tsubaki handed her a pair of thick, heavy paper bags. "Uh...you didn't all have to come..."
"Sure we did!" Black Star pointed at Soul, who was sniffling and sneezing in a mass of rumpled blankets, messy hair, and used tissues on one of the couches. "See? You need us to help take care of you! And being the great me, well," he grinned, "there's no way I'm gonna get sick from you guys!"
"You and Tsubaki already had this flu." Black Star seemed to ignore this. Maka looked at the only other woman in the room for help.
"We'll only be here for a little while," Tsubaki assured her. "I'll warm the soup for you two and tidy up a little bit."
Kid started returning the symmetry to anything which could potentially have been symmetrical but was not at the time.
"Aren't you gonna get sick, too?" Soul muttered from deep inside a comforter.
"I'm a shinigami." His tone was very matter-of-fact. "I warned Liz and Patty that they could get sick if they try to visit, but they do send their best wishes. They are the ones who bought your groceries, and they also sent this." He put a "Get Well" card and a small box (presumably full of chocolate) on the kitchen table.
Kid departed before too long, after giving the duo a rare genuine smile and telling them to feel better soon. Black Star and Tsubaki stayed slightly longer just to chat, but when Soul and Maka were obviously getting ready to fall asleep they left as well.
"At least they're reliable," Soul said to his partner across the coffee table after all their friends left.
"Mm. They are." She smiled wanly into her own pillow. "I'm glad Black Star didn't try to write on our faces this time."
"Heh. He's growing up."
8. tapestry (a heavy handwoven fabric with a complex design used as a wall hanging)
"This...I have to admire this," Kid was saying in awe. He stood in front of a glass case containing an old tapestry.
"You've been-" Liz pulled on his arm in vain. "-'admiring' it for a full hour now!"
"Such a perfectly symmetrical weave...I can't even believe someone did this by hand. And four hundred years ago, also."
Soul rolled his eyes. "Happy birthday, Maka. Didn't you know bringing Kid, Patty, and Black Star to the museum is the worst idea ever?"
Maka pouted. "But that's how I wanted to celebrate! If you don't like it, why don't you leave?"
Her weapon smirked. "Because if I do, you'll get all upset later, and you'll Chop me into oblivion."
Maka's retort was interrupted by a crashing sound.
"Hey," Black Star suddenly yawned. "Where's Patty?"
"Besides," Soul added hastily, "a cool guy wouldn't leave his partner alone with these freak shows on her birthday."
9. delinquent (someone who is guilty of a misdeed)
Soul turned around to see Spirit Albarn staring stonily in his direction.
"Uh...yeah? What is it, old man?"
The older Death Scythe approached, looking stern but not overtly hostile. Soul simply stared him down as Spirit put a hand on his shoulder.
"Listen, Soul." His voice was softer now. "I still think you look like a little delinquent. But I know you've been good to Maka because you care about her, and that's what matters. So as her father, I'm saying now - thank you. And keep being good. Don't do anything stupid or I'll kill you."
The younger scythe watched for a moment as Spirit walked away. "Hey! Where the hell did that come from?"
Spirit paused and spoke without looking back. "I know what's going on, Soul. And if I want to have a relationship with my daughter at all, I know that I'm going to have to accept you."
10. natural (produced by nature; un-tampered with; not artificial)
They're as natural as the rest of her. Maybe the association happens just because they're green, and he associates green with nature like everyone else seems to.
But it might also be because they strike that perfect balance of vibrancy and subtlety. They're not flashy. They're not that chemical green color, the kind that appears in the paint sets she messes around with on occasion. She also never, ever puts makeup on them - at least not unless Liz and Patty forcibly pin her down and apply it.
But they stand out anyway. They can be startling. First of all, they're so big. Sometimes he thinks they're actually surrounding him, especially if he suspects she's stealing glances at his soul. They're also...really warm. Even though they're green and fire isn't green, he can see a fire in them anyway.
When she gets depressed, he can see the dull embers barely smoldering and he wants to stoke them. When she's angry, her irises are pinpoints of flame. When she's determined, the sparks in those eyes are contagious. When she's happy, they're like hearth flames. They're the color of leaves, real natural springtime leaves in places that aren't as dry as Death City.
Soul blearily blinks these stupid metaphors away. Those comparisons are kind of trite. She just has naturally pretty eyes; there's nothing else like them anywhere.
Extra: I wrote this for "entangled" first, then reread the definition of entangled and decided the prompt wouldn't really fit the uh...mood that the definition put me in. But I liked the results anyway and decided to keep them as their own thing.
This time he didn't hold her hand as usual. He shifted his own in a way that made her glance at him questioningly, as if afraid he might pull away; but Soul only wanted to weave his fingers between hers.
Maka allowed herself a smile.
He focused all of his recent realizations into that one physical connection, his thoughts flowing from his mind to that hand-hold. He squeezed her hand as tightly as he could while remaining gentle, stroking her finger with his thumb.
Don't get all wrapped up in their bullshit. You're the perfect meister for me. We fit together like pieces of a puzzle or like Yin and Yang. You're the only one who's ever saved me from myself and still been proud of me even though you had to do that. So next time someone tells you you're not 'worthy' of me, feel free to laugh, because I sure will.
They weren't resonating so she couldn't exactly read his mind. But Soul knew that with her incredible ability to read souls, she'd receive everything he was sending her.
Sheesh...hopefully next time I can write a little more variety. They kind of seem too similar to one another. Anyway, thanks for reading!