Soma aging


Here’s a little bonus since some people wanted more (and because everyone that has seen the original thing seems to love this one for some reason?). Have 19 years old Soma in her DWMA jacket staring at u. 

Now we’re done. For real. I’ll leave a little link on my blog so you can come back to these and check them out whenever you want! And thank you so much for your support through this whole thing! 

SoMa Week 2015, Day 7: Coming of Age

DONE. Done just in time. This feeds off a little headcanon of mine regarding the fact that Soul’s Welsh. If you’re curious, message me in an ask; I don’t feel like explaining it here X3 Thanks for reading these, everyone!

SoMa Week 2015

Day 7: Coming of Age

Description: Soul was set to receive his inheritance from his parents whenever he reached the age of eighteen, but after years without contact, his parents are less than generous. They demand that Soul must return home to receive his fortune, forcing him to choose between the money he was counting on and his life in Death City.

There were times when Soul considered going back. Life as a weapon was hard, not to mention literally maddening. His life had been put on the line countless times, and he had more bruises and scars than he could count.

However, as soon as he regretted his choice to move to Death City, he pushed the thought away, and reminded himself that he now knew what freedom tasted like. Freedom could come with ups and downs, and could turn around to slice into your chest as soon as it would give you the ability to express yourself, but Soul quickly realized that he loved that thrill. He was no longer restricted, nor conformed. He had broken outside societal norms and expectancies before, but now he could do it without consequence. There were little things he could do now, like being able to slouch and baring his teeth at those who irritated him. But he could also play his own music, both literally and figuratively. He now had the strength defend the world, and had done so multiple times. His talents as a weapon and pianist weren’t wasted or shunned anymore, but embraced and utilized. Nothing could compare to that. In addition, the friends he had made in Death City were too high a cost to pay to return back to his former life.

Last but not least, there was Maka. Maka was his life, the first person to uncover his potential as a weapon, friend, musician, and more recently, a lover. If Soul left her for any reason, not the least of which to return to his family, he’d never be able to forgive himself.

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Step up and fight

Again, not Dragon au, but I am writing the next chapter. :-))
This is day 7 of soma week, and I have had fun.
It was 6 am, and he didn’t want to be there. He wanted to be anywhere but there. He kept his face blank, trying to express how disgusted he was with his society. He stop in the line as they called names, took fingerprints, and pushed them in a bus. He was 18, and was drafted.

The engine roared to a start, and Soul kept his eyes focused out the window, at his brother. Wes was lucky enough to not be picked. Wes was going to continue being an aspiring artist, and was going places with his life. Soul wasn’t going to get that chance, because he was going to die.


Maka got on the bus, and sat next to a white haired man. She thought his features were strange, and yet handsome. Though she knew she wasn’t there for romance. She had a war to fight, and she wasn’t going to die because she had her mind on some guy. She pulled out her sketchbook, and began to draw her home, the fields, and the people she knew.

She wasn’t paying attention to the red eyes that were now focused on her drawings. “That’s really good.” She turned her head to look at said red eyes, and gave him a shy smile.

“It’s uh… my home.”

“It’s beautiful. The people seem full of life.” She looked down at the children running and the elders talking or laughing. There were people walking and selling things, and it made her feel like he was still home. “Can I see your sketchbook?”

“Um… sure.” She handed it to him, and watched as he flipped through each image, watching as familiar faces showed on every new page. He stopped at one of her, when her hair wasn’t above her ears and boyish.

“Is this you?”

“Yeah. I was about 16 when I drew that.”

“Huh. You look pretty with long hair, but I think I like your hair short.” He grinned at her with a shark-toothed smile and she blushed, which made him laugh.

“Thanks…” She was laughing with him, ignoring the few cat calls and smoochy faces others were making their way. “So… you got any hidden talents?”

“Yep.” He looked nervous, and rubbed the back of his head with his hand.


“I play…” She didn’t hear the last part because he was mumbling.


“I-uh… play piano.” She began to giggle, putting her hand over her mouth to try and stifle it. She failed. Miserably. “What?”

“It’s cute. I wasn’t expecting you to say that.” He gave her a pouty face, which made her giggle some more. “So. Will you play for me when we get back?” He sighed, then gave her his handsome grin.

“I guess.” Suddenly, he had confidence he would survive. They spoke the rest of the ride, and stuck together through the whole war. They had each others backs, and when Soul got hurt, she stayed by his side as often as she could, and even got a cheesy, drugged out, love confession from him.

When the war was over, they got an apartment together, seeing as they were now in their 20s, and he finally played for her. Of course, he then pulled out a ring and asked her to marry him. They didn’t care how cliché it was, and spent the rest of the night making love.

One night Soul was going through some old boxes, when he found her sketchbook. It was old and grimy, but when he opened it, he found the picture of her home town. Nostalgia hit him, and he stroked it like it was a fragile flower, that would crumble under his fingers. He flipped through the pictures slowly, and found some of him that he had never seen before, and he smiled. 

Maybe becoming 18 wasn’t so bad after all.

At Last--SoMa Week 2015 Day 3, Catharsis

So, this is over a day late, but at almost 8k words, I don’t feel too badly about that.  It is the third and final installment of my middle aged SoMa AU–the first two are Elderly Woman Behind the Counter in a Small Town and True Love Waits.

Thanks forever to ilarual and l0chn3ss for looking over this hot mess.

Other days can be found here:

Day 1  | Day 2 | 

I found a dream, that I could speak to

A dream that I can call my own

I found a thrill to press my cheek to

A thrill that I have never known.

They’d been sitting together on the brown leather sofa, staring at the middle of her Dad’s old, battered coffee table for at least ten minutes, unmoving, unblinking, jaws slack.  Perhaps they thought if they willed it hard enough, they could make that other little word appear, if they willed it hard enough, their world wouldn’t come crashing down on them because of that first little word.

There was no will strong enough to change reality.

Maka spoke first, snapping her mouth shut with a slight smack and letting out a long breath.

“How… did this happen?”  she said, still staring at the little stick in the middle of the table.

This seemed to jolt Soul off of whatever planet his mind had disappeared to, because he barked out a short, rough laugh.  “Maka, you have three kids.  Pretty sure you know how these things happen.”

Maka rolled her eyes.  “I just mean–”  she sighed.  “Blake got cut years ago, and I just wasn’t thinking–and then, I figured I was going through the change.  I never thought, never would have thought–”

“Okay, first off, I really, really don’t need to know anything about Blake’s bits.  And second, you’re the one who said we should test.”  In truth, Soul was as stunned as she was, but it was easier to hide behind snark.  

“To rule it out,” she snapped. “I just never thought, at my age–”

“Well, guess my sperm is just that potent.” He waggled his eyebrows at her, earning him an elbow to the ribs.  “Hey!”

“Just–be serious for once, would you?  It must be wrong.  There’s no way.  We’ll do it again.  I bought a three pack, so we’ll just–do it again.”

“Yeah, alright,” he agreed.

An hour later, they were back on the sofa, staring down three sticks where one had been before.  The result was the same for all–one word, small and black and seemingly innocuous.  So strange, how one word could hold so much power, how one word could turn their lives upside down.  One little eight letter word.  


“It didn’t change,” Maka stated dumbly after staring at the third stick for several minutes.

“Nope,” Soul agreed.

“What–what are we gonna do?”  It was practically a whisper, and she felt 19 instead of 49.  

“I have no idea,” he said evenly.  And yet–and yet–there was a small part of him that reveled in the thought of a child together.  In spite of everything he knew it would mean, that small part was quickly growing.

“Our kids are grown,” she sighed.

“Mmm hmmm,” he agreed.  

“We’re too old for a baby–we should be pestering our kids for grandbabies not–not–”

“–having a kid young enough to be our grand baby?” he suggested.

“Exactly,” she sighed again.

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Soma, 12 years old.

Say hello to Soma’s academy outfit. You’ll be seeing it a lot from this point on.

Fact: Soma joins the academy, and as every rookie, belongs to the NOT class. Unlike most of her classmates though, she doesn’t choose a partner. She’s not interested in one, in fact. She believes with every fiber of her being, that the only way of showing what she is capable of, that she can become the best the hard way, without anyone or her parents help, is not having a partner. She alone can become a good weapon. Of course, not everyone agrees with her. But as the daugther of the most stubborn duo the academy has ever seen, she won’t change her mind that easily.

Soma, 11 years old.

Fact: when the time of joining the academy is already around the corner, Soma only wishes for one thing: to not be treated differently because of her parents, who are also teachers. (Maka teaches about souls and everything related to them, while Soul trains weapons to prepare them to assist their meisters in combat).

Since you guys liked the idea, starting today I’ll start posting a picture of little Soma everyday. She’ll get a year older with every little picture, from her innocent baby days, to her devilish child years, to her even more diabolical teen days. The little shit. Enjoy newborn Soma!

Fact: the little plushie seen here is the first toy she ever owns, Patches the panda. Auntie Tsubaki did it for her before she was born, and given to her the day she came into this world~ He somehow seems familiar…

Soma, 14 years old.

Behold the biggest “are you fuckin kidding me” face you’ll ever see.

Fact: one afternoon, after kicking some punk’s asses, she’s approached by a boy her age that happened to watch her from afar. This new guy seems to have been pretty impressed, and asks her to be his partner, but as the little shit she is, she just leaves, leaving the poor lad behind. He doesn’t give up though, and Soma finds him stalking her for days. Shit, the silly boy is even on her class now. Great. One day, tired of him, she tolds him to leave her alone, that she doesn’t need a partner, and that he’s starting to freak her out. The boy, who’s name happens to be Robert (Roby for friends), asks her why does she think that she doesn’t need a partner. Every weapon needs one right? Soma asks him why would he choose her anyway, and why is he so concerned about finding a partner when he just joined the academy. Roby then tells her his reasons for joining the DWMA, and that he has the feeling she would do a perfect partner for him, and that together they could do just fine. Soma, is taken a little by surprise, and reconsiders his words. These past two years haven’t been easy for her…did she really made the right choice? Perhaps, working alone is not the best she can do for herself…? After making her mind, she accepts his proposal, and so, Soma Evans and Robert Bendran become partners.

Not long after that, Robert moves to live with the Evans, and their attic becomes his room. Guess Soma has now to deal with him everyday now!

Soma, 3 years old!

Next age stage will be posted after I’m back from my little trip. I won’t take my laptop with me, sorry about that!

Fact: as she starts to walk around on her own, Soma becomes a playful little girl, always running around and exploring. The little twins, who are also crawling around and trying to stand on their little feet by that time, won’t take long to follow after!