I'm in the mood for SoMa cx NC Weekly Tumblr Writing Contest (/ignores the fact that it was technically from a month ago but it was never closed... xD) And also the second au fic for level two of the c/p challenges by the dozen~ x3
Correct me if I get anything inaccurate!
Oh, and thank you to my friends Theatricals and Emerald Flashes for helping me out when I was stuck! :)
Prompt: Muse A is an author, and Muse B is his/her biggest fan, having read all of their books, and loving them all. B writes A a letter, telling A how much they love his/her books, and is very surprised when A writes them back - Credits to cutiepieprompts
Soul "Eater" Evans never expected to spiral into an addiction of cheesy romance novels. They just weren't his type of book. He was more into action comic books, really. In fact, Soul didn't really like any actual novels at all before.
That was, until he was nagged to check out the author "Maka Albarn" too many times, and he happened to pick up one of her books from the "abandoned" corner of a dusty, used book shop.
The plot was full of spice and kept Soul constantly fretting over what was going to happen next to the protagonists. And at the end, his heart always positively melted when everything worked out amazingly for the lovers. Plus, the details and imagery were so intense that it was like the comic was drawing itself out in his head.
The only problem was that Albarn-sama's most recent novel, Soul Resonance, was published five years ago. SR was Soul's absolute favorite novel out of all of hers, if he had to pick, and he wanted more.
Day after day ever since he finished all of Albarn's books, he worried constantly whether his favorite author had stopped writing, or maybe even died or something. Of course, to try to soothe himself, he reread her books again and again, but that made him even more anxious in the end.
Where could Maka Albarn have vanished to?
In his wastebin, many, many crumpled up and scrapped letter drafts to Albarn resided. Every single time he had felt the need to contact Albarn, but he never sent any one of them. He wouldn't want to embarrass himself in front of his idol.
So he started writing prose. He was inspired by the flow of her work, and wrote poem after poem about the characters and aspects of the plot when he was in a writing mood.
His brother was quite concerned that the books had changed Soul forever.
Just like the letters, all of the poems were torn apart and tossed.
Until one day...
...
there was nothing more left to read or write about
...
Soul "Eater" Evans was lost. He had left himself get too dependent on the fandom, and now what was there to do?
He gazed blankly out of his bedroom window; it appeared to be snowing some. Hmm, was it winter? Was that a blizzard or just a flurrying? His dad had been pestering him this morning (afternoon? evening? night?) to go outside for some air, so he might as well do so.
Slowly, he trekked through the hallway and straight out the door. Mindlessly, Soul trudged through the collecting snow and towards the open shed in the backyard.
Wesley Evans' old piano still stood grandly as the fading centerpiece of the shed. Soul brushed off a few tiny snowflakes that had strayed onto the stool, and took a seat.
He had never been anywhere near as good as his late brother on the piano, although he had played it a few times no matter.
And now... The piano remained abandoned in the now snow-covered rusty shed. It was too painful to play anymore after it happened… too many memories of Wes and thoughts about how Soul was technically the best Evans brother at music now. But that wasn't right. Anyway, Soul had just preferred to stay away.
And now... Why care about all the sad memories streaming back to him like his tears? Why care about the stinging cold all around his body?
And so, the boy sat at the piano for the rest of the white winter day, until a middle-aged frazzled man dragged him in around sunset.
~a week later~
Soul "Eater" Evans was finally visited by the local doctor, after his father eventually noticed that the despondency was accompanied by coughing, fever, and chills.
Pneumonia. He had pneumonia. Hopefully Maka Albarn would write another book by the time he would most likely die. Going out into the backyard without a jacket in the middle of a strong blizzard was not a good idea, according to Dr. Stein.
But Death, did he want another book.
Soul "Eater" Evans wasn't doing very well at surviving. He could see the worried looks Dr. Stein gave him regularly. There was no improvement day by day, only decline.
The pneumonia had overtaken his body, and Stein suspected another disease had taken advantage of the weak immune system. Soul could be gone any day now...
Now, he had finally given up hope that Maka Albarn would ever write another book, especially not by the time he was inevitably going to die.
Soul.
He nearly whipped around in surprise from the sudden call of his name. Who would want something of him? He was about to die.
Soul, come on, I'm nearly done. Don't worry yourself too much, and hold on tight.
No way... it couldn't be. But Soul was too heavy with exhaustion to open his lids.
Come on, come on, come ON! I'll rush to finish it if I need to.
How could she have arrived here? Had his dad given her his address or something?
Okay? ...Come on, okay?
Death, now was the time it was essential for Soul to hang out? At his last moments?
Soul...
The beeps transitioned into a flat line, and the doctor looked on sadly.
soul "eater" evans was gone.
Hope you enjoyed this angst ;)
/flies away majestically/