A/N: This is a silly little short, quickly written and edited, in honor of Halloween. Totally pointless SoMa fluff.
A Halloween Fairy Tail
He was sitting on the couch, his foot tapping an impatient beat on the carpet. What the hell was she doing in there anyway, attaching a fifth limb?
"Maaakaaaa!" He half yelled, half whined. "Are you ready yet? You take much longer and we'll be going to a Christmas party." He heard footsteps behind him and whipped his head around just in time to see her emerge from the hallway. She was wearing a breastplate of armor with a yellow sideways cross, a short blue skirt, high black boots, and a sword at her hip. All that was different enough but couldn't compare to her hair, which had been temporarily colored the same ridiculous shade her father sported. Altogether, she looked like she belonged in some surreal alternate middle ages. The look suited her and Soul could see why she'd chosen this particular costume. Why he had gotten stuck with the costume she had chosen for him, however, was a different matter.
"Well?" She stopped just in front of him, hands on her hips.
"Why the hell do you get to be a badassed babe and I'm stuck as Mr. Freaky Pink Hair," he grumbled.
"So it looks good?"
"Yeah, it's fine, I guess," his begrudging response could not quite hide the admiration on his face. "Doesn't answer my question, though."
"We already went over this," she shook her head. "I want to win the costume contest this year."
"Yeah, whatever. But why'd I have to be Fire Guy? The Ice Mage whosisface is cooler."
"He also has black hair, and that was no way going to work on your white locks, Cinderella." She smiled down at him, running a hand through his now pink—pink of all colors damnitall—hair. "Plus your teeth work better for Natsu."
"So, basically, you get to go as a smoking hot fighter chick, and I'm stuck being a dorky hothead who eats too much."
She huffed. "How many times do I have to tell you that Natsu is the main character and super strong?"
"He's also totally oblivious. He's got a hot babe who is totally into him and doesn't make a move. What a dork."
"Hey!" She smacked the side of his head; the hit was a bit too hard to be truly playful.
"What was that for?" He looked almost affronted.
"I thought you didn't watch anime."
"I don't."
"And yet you were able to describe your character's traits."
Soul shrugged in response, earning another smack to the side of the head—her costume must lack book space, he figured. Despite the cost of her continued annoyance, he wasn't about to admit to actually liking anime and being a fan of the series they had pulled their costumes from. He was way too cool for that.
"And we had to go as some dorky anime duo why again?"
"Because Cosplay is the theme this year." He could tell she was getting impatient, the narrow eyed look conveying all her frustration at his belittling of something she cared about. Halloween was something like Christmas and Mardi Gras all rolled into one surreal package in Death City. At first, he had found it odd and more than a bit disconcerting, but he had come to almost like it. He sort of enjoyed dressing up with Maka. Maka herself had ceased loving the holiday when her parents divorced—too many painful memories—but her competitive streak wouldn't let her back down from a challenge. So when Black*Star had insisted he and Tsubaki could beat them in the costume contest, she'd risen to the occasion. Soul had to admit the costumes were good. He didn't know how she had managed to gather all the bits and pieces, but they really did look like the characters they were supposed to be portraying.
"Yeah, yeah. Alright, so if I couldn't go as Ice Guy, why didn't you go as that blonde babe since she and fire dude are sort of an item—well, if the guy ever catches a clue they will be, anyway."
"So you want people to assume we're a couple?"
He just stared at that. Actually, he wouldn't really mind, but that wasn't the point here.
"We're dressed up together either way. So why not the chick with the keys?"
She just shrugged and mumbled something unintelligible. He caught something about Lucy and service and couldn't make sense of it.
"What was that?"
"I SAID I CAN'T PULL OFF MY LADY LUCY, QUEEN OF FANSERVICE!" she practically screeched, her face as scarlet as her hair dye. He just scoffed.
"Every chick in that show has tits the size of melons."
"Yeah, but the armor hides the fact that I don't," she mumbled, looking anywhere but at him. He let out a breath. Much as he disliked parties, he didn't want to spend this one with her upset the whole time. So he stood, and moved his hand up to her cheek, gently turning her face to look at him.
"You look good." It was the truth, and she deserved to hear it for once. Cool guys told a lady when she looked hot, after all, didn't they?
"R…really?" The color had returned full force.
"Mmmm hmmm. Smokin'. Just like the real Erza." He flashed her a sharky grin and she smiled back, then shook her head, her smile turning playful.
"There is no real Erza."
"You know what I mean." She just laughed in response and moved away towards the door.
"So, ready to win this contest?" She said, turning around as she reached the exit.
"Sure. Don't think we can lose, really." He replied, walking to the door himself.
"Why's that?" Maka looked confused.
"Because. Black*Star doesn't know shit about Anime. Knowing him, he'll probably dress as a Smurf or some shit."
They both laughed at that, their laughter echoing in the hall long after as they headed down the stairs and into the night.
