Title: Brotherly Advice
Summary: Do I have to do everything myself?
Author: The one that is not Fiercy
Length: 1,011
Pairing: Implied Soul/Maka
A/N: Um. Ok, I don't actually have an excuse this time xD
Dear Wes,
How long has it been since I ran away again? 3 years? (Sorry about leaving you to deal with Ma and Pa by the way, I'm sure you are thrilled to be an only child again.) I was just writing to check that you hadn't converted my room into a bowling alley or something; I might need some of the stuff in there at some point.
How goes the violin playing? I'm sure women are just throwing themselves at you in the streets to here that squeaky old thing, oh wait – I forgot. You're more interested in designer suits.
Anyway, just wanted to say that I'm having the time of my young life and you're stuck in Paris listening to old people ramble on about the war.
Have fun!
Soul
P.S. this pen nearly cost me my life, it was in a set of eight and Kid nearly ate me when I took one.
--
Soul,
We have in fact left your room the exact way it was…a toxic waste dump, who knew socks could give out radiation poisoning? (You owe us 3 maids and a nuclear vat by the way.)
I was always happy as an only child, I asked for a puppy and they brought you home in stead. Clearly there was a mix up at some point. You did make a mess and follow me round like a puppy so I suppose it worked out…
Now go run under a bus and finish things properly.
Further more the violin is at least portable, I would love to try and see you haul that piano round to serenade that Maka girl you adore so much.
(Also, French girls do it better.)
Wes x
P.S. Send Kid a symmetrical hug from me.
--
Wes…
WHAT THE HELL?! I DON'T ADORE ANYONE. LEAST OF ALL TINY-TITS.
STFU.
Soul
P.S. Please accept this air hug from Kid, he doesn't get that sort of non-violent/stalker attention and I think he may love you.
Just a warning.
--
Moron,
Aw, you gave each other pet names! How cute! What does she call you? Whitey? Scythy-kins? Souliwaffle?
Do you fight about her breast size to give reason for why you were staring so much? (Oh, and try and grab some tissues before you bleed all over this letter. It's gross when you send them back covered in nasal blood you pubescent nightmare.)
Your all knowing brother, Wes xxx.
P.S. Tell Kid I'm flattered but I can get girls unlike the rest of you.
--
I hate you.
Also, Souliwaffle? What on earth, that sounds more like a pastry than a pet name you idiot, are you trying to sell off happy meals with my face on them?
I DO NOT LOOK AT HER BRoaofdiafrye-----
Sorry…nose bleed.
Anyway, you get the idea!
Cooler than you,
Soul.
P.S. Kid's going to kill your imaginary girlfriend now. Just a heads up so you can pay someone in advance to pretend.
--
Soul,
What? Not even a 'Dear wonderful' at the start of your last letter?! I'm so hurt.
Seriously, go see a doctor. You may be anaemic, and the postman keeps giving me strange looks when I receive mail covered with blood splatters.
Everyone in the neighbourhood is now under the impression I am part of some sort of suicide cult.
Finally, denial isn't just a river in Egypt Soul.
Wes xx
P.S. her name is Reyana, she's a wonderful young woman and I'd like to see Kid try.
--
My ever present irritation,
I don't get it.
Soul xx
P.S. Tch. I forget you haven't met Kid, he'll totally own your made up girl and then you'll be sorry.
--
Souliwaffles,
How are we even related?
Also, was it really necessary to attach a dead rat to the envelope? Really, now everyone is 100 percent positive I am secretly a worshipper of some sort of occult demon.
P.S. she wears 57 knives on her body, 10 when she sleeps. Bring it.
--
Wesicakes,
I ask myself that question daily. Every hour. On the hour.
And yes it was, enjoy the sacrificial lamb! I'm sending it via air-mail so it should arrive before this!
Love you always,
Sir Soul of Awesome.
P.S. how do you know she wears 10 at- …you sicken me.
--
My Darling Soul,
It's on now.
Wes.
--
YOU.
WHAT THE HELL?!
You nearly got me killed.
Dead.
How could you even think of sending racy French lingerie through the mail, addressed to me. Maka nearly impaled me with a butter knife!
A butter knife.
I hope you die a painful death and go to hell so I can laugh at you.
Soul.
--
Fail of a sibling,
Ah, there you are! I was wondering what was taking you so long to write back, apologies but you really left me no choice little brother – maybe this will teach you to mess with people older, better looking, smarter and far more awesome than yourself.
And why did Maka mind so much? Honestly she wasn't jealous was she?
Yes I am totally smirking right now,
Wes.
P.S. Kid dropped by today, he handed me eight pencils. I worry about who you hang around with.
--
Even bigger Fail of a sibling,
STFU. Maka and I are totally not together, that's weird I mean…why did someone say something to you?! Listen, whatever they said about last Friday I was really drunk and she had a tank top on ok!
Totally innocent,
Soul
P.S. Awww. When's the wedding?
--
Disgrace to the family,
I cannot believe you have to get drunk before getting some action, seriously. Urgh. Do I have to do everything myself?
Wes
P.S. Next Thursday, we're going to Vegas.
--
Wes,
Wait what the hell does that mean?!
Soul.
--
Brother,
The part about the wedding or the part about me locking you and Maka in a cupboard for several hours and not letting you out until someone gets to third base?
Wes xxx.
--
Wes,
Oh shi-
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