#but no. it's more dangerous: his horde of adopted kids

[i3utterflyeffect]

it would be so funny if the mercs see the color gang with their false coats from far away and immediately assume that alan drew an army of selkies or something.

GLKJDLKSGJLSK. THEY EXPECT THEM TO TURN INTO CURSORS AND THEN RED JUST TRIES TO BITE ONE OF THEM INSTEAD OR SOMETHING

[serialadoptersbracket]

Round 2, Match 55: Mendoza vs. Soundwave

Submitted kids:

Mendoza: Esteban, Zia and Tao

Soundwave: Rumble, Frenzy, Laserbeak, Ravage, Ratbat, Garboil, Enemy, Wingthing, Beastbox, Squalktalk, Glit, Howlback, Slugfest, Overkill, Sundor, and Autoscout but there's bound to be more I'm forgetting.

Propaganda under the cut!

Mendoza:

1. “Mendoza did not exactly *begin* as father material, what with him being a character with a very grey morality at first and both a help to the children and someone they couldn't trust fully, but his entire arc in the first season is him becoming a better person. None of the kids are biologically his but he just went and unofficially adopted all three of them. Their story is inextricably bound up with the show's story.

He first met Esteban when Esteban was a baby and was handed to him in the middle of a storm at sea (then Esteban's father seemingly died in said storm), but because Mendoza was young and interested in gold he let a local (?) church raise the child. He then met Esteban again twelve years later, on the same day he would be kidnapping Zia (for money, because Zia knows how to read quipus that the Spanish hope will tell the way to the Inca's gold) (the show takes place in the early 16th century). So he begins by kidnapping a child and manipulating another to hide in a ship and cross an ocean. They all meet Tao later, and this one is wary of him too at first, but he ends up winning their trust while bettering himself.

He's the only parental figure these kids have: Esteban's father was lost at sea after his mother was killed, Zia spends most of the first season looking for her father only for him to get killed an episode or two after their reunion, and Tao lost both his parents years ago. In the beginning of the show he's completely using them to find a legendary city of gold, and even admits it, but as the story goes he's caring more and more for them and puts himself in mortal danger just to help them, when just running away would have been much more beneficial to him. In later seasons this pattern keeps up and he's not even a grey character anymore, he's just their dad who's scheming and plotting sometimes. With the cities of gold having been revealed to be monetarily worthless he wouldn't have any reason to still accompany them, but he loves them so he stays with them. He's much more of a dad than Esteban's birth father (who miraculously reappears but keeps getting pushed out of the way by the plot), he's teaching them stuff and protecting them and cheering them on and worrying about them and helping them every step of the way. He makes dad jokes. When random people ask if Zia is his daughter he says yes, and he would say the same for Tao (and for Esteban too but he's hung up about Esteban's "real" father being alive and a nice guy).”

2. “He took Esteban on his journey because he needed his medallion, Zia because his commander requested it, and Tao because he was useful. But then he fought so much at their side that he pretty much betrayed the Spanish army and everything else to protect those kids. They didn't like him much at first, but eventually grew to love him in return, especially in later seasons.”

3. “Sly Spaniard looking for some gold in the New World accidentally adopts the three children he more or less uses to find the Mysterious Cities of Gold, but he also cares about them and accidentally starts caring about them so much that by the end of the first season he realises how much he would miss them if they weren't there.”

Soundwave:

1. “This is a dude who stores smaller dudes in his boob and he usually launches them out at high speeds to commit crimes. Fandom loves to headcanon them as a dad and his horde of kids and pets.”

2. “Forgot buzzsaw (yellow bird) lol

Bro really do be adopting”

3. “#he literally is a single mother of like 18 and they all live inside of his chest #and the only time he gets close to showing emotion is when something happens to one of them”

[everythingwasalreadypicked]

Alabaster checked his watch again. He sighed in frustration. When would Claymore's seminar be over?

He hated this place: Manhattan. And the bench he was sitting had a pretty clear view of the damned Empire State Building, too. The sooner they were out of here the better it was.

A young child parked his bicycle and sat on the empty spot next to him. His curly black hair swayed with the blowing wind. Alabaster stiffened as the kid pulled out a paper bag out of his pocket. The boy's shirt was bright orange: the exact shade Camp Half-Blood used.

He curled his fist around the card he stored his sword. He doubted the immortal assholes would send a literal child after him when Perseus Jackson was available... but he wouldn't put it past them either.

"Oh, did you like my shirt?"

Alabaster jumped in his place before realising it was the kid. Embarrassment flooded him as he realised the shirt was a regular children shirt with a printed snake on it. Geez, how paranoid he had become?

"I love snakes!" The kid gave a toothy grin, showing off the gap between his teeth. He had a birthmark around his left eye shaped like dragon claws. Alabaster noted that eye was slightly milky unlike the other dark one.

He awkwardly cleared his throat. "That's, uhh, great kid." He checked his watch for the nth time. Shouldn't his father's seminar be over by now?

The kid pulled a handful of seeds and threw them at the pavement, inviting some passing pigeons. Soon, a horde of birds gathered around the kid, and by extension Alabaster.

"Are you waiting for your parents too?" The kid pointed the top of the Empire State Building. "My mom works there."

He side eyed the boy. "Didn't your parents taught you not to talk to strangers? You're like seven."

"Nine actually. You have little siblings and you can't guess it right?"

Alabaster choked. "What?"

"You look like you have siblings." The kid mused as he threw more seeds at the pigeons.

Alabaster sighed and leaned back. "Yeah, I had."

"Did they die? Nine years ago?"

Alabaster whipped his head. Who was this kid?

"Excuse me?"

"Sorry..." The boy mumbled. "Mom and dad get scared too."

'Gee, I wonder why?' would snark Alabaster, if this wasn't a, albeit creepy, child.

"Just..." He took a deep breath, "stranger danger, kid."

"I have a knife!" That would be a concerning statement; if this wasn't New York. "Besides you can't be worse than our mailman."

The child hunched onto himself. "He doesn't like my adoptive parents. I think." He brightened up. "His snakes are nice though!"

"Right..." Where were this kid's parents? Scratch that. Where was Claymore?

The kid started whistling a familiar tune while he continued feeding the birds. It was from a song he didn't know the name of, however, it had been blasted on the Princess Andromeda several times.

"Luke!" A man who was roughly the same age as him from the looks of it yelled from the far corner of the street. He held the leash of a dog as big as a hellhound and was waving with his other hand. Possibly, the boy's father.

The kid got up, pocketed the bird food and mounted his bike. "It was nice to talk to you, General Torrington."

Alabaster froze. He hadn't told his name. He hadn't told this kid anything, there was no way he could know. Unless...

'He chose to reincarnate, you won't find him in the Underworld.'

His mother's words echoed in his head.

"Luke..." He whispered.

"That's my name." The kid beamed and cycled towards his father.

Alabaster put his head in his hands, a sob wrenching itself out of his throat.

He really hated Manhattan.

****

Context: Luke reincarnated but Lethe malfunctioned so :) Something we talked about in the server before.

[morganwrites-starwars]

Time Waits for No One pt. 3

A Sequal to Time is a social construct.

Summary: What do you do when you time travel 50 years in the past with your Jedi son, accidentally adopt 3 more kids, and become Mand’alor? Din figured stopping a Sith uprising was a good answer. He just has to unite the Mandalorian factions, repair relationships with the Jedi, and stop a galactic civil war. Easy.

Masterlist

<Back/Next>

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           If there was one thing Din knew about himself, it was that he was a hands-on, get-it-done-himself kind of person. Not so much because he didn’t trust other people, but because, for the longest time, that was his only option. Now, he had a horde of assistants and a small army of people willing to help him. And Din had to be aware of potentially dangerous situations and decide if it was worth his attendance. It was a delicate balance between maintaining a public presence and his own safety that Din was still mastering. Fortunately, most of his advisors were willing to tell him immediately when something was a bad idea. And some, like Jango, were more than happy to use Din’s children against him.

         All that to say, Din wasn’t allowed to go with the Jetii to examine the alley where the Sith had attacked them. Obi-wan and Jango had gone with Tholme and Vos to convince anyone who saw them that they were just friends on an outing. Qui-gon had wanted to go, but two Jetii masters would be too suspicious. Instead, Jango had been volun-told for the excursion (something about exposure therapy?). It seemed his remaining ade had dedicated themselves to distracting Din and Qui-gon. Bo-Katan had insisted that this was the perfect time for Din to teach her how to use a jetpack- Din was of the opinion that she should have an actual teacher, not someone who learned by trial and error but was outvoted. Grogu had decided he wanted to mediate with Qui-gon, and the Jetii was weak to the request of the child.

         Din had to admit, it was hard to constantly check his comm for messages from Obi-wan or Jango when he was trying to make sure Bo-Katan didn’t fly into a wall or something. Not that Din should worry too much- Bo-Katan was a natural and was trying to see what the most reckless maneuver she could get away with while also making Satine, who had decided to spectate, wince.

         Din hadn’t even realized an hour had passed until Obi-wan and Jango entered the courtyard. Grogu’s eyes shot open, and he screeched joyfully as if it hadn’t been an hour since they had left. Grogu toddled to Obi-wan, and the teenager picked him up without further instruction. Bo-Katan landed, and Din allowed himself a breath of relief. Qui-gon and Din approached them as the girls put away the jetpack before joining them.

         “How did it go?” Qui-gon asked.

         “Alright,” Obi-wan said. “Master Tholme and Quin went to their rooms to meditate so Quin can get everything straight. They’ll let us know when he’s ready.” Din nodded like he understood perfectly. He supposed having a bunch of impressions shoved into one’s head would be disorientating. “He did say that he felt a dark energy.”

         “It was weird,” Jango commented. “Cool, but weird.”

         Din was proud of Jango’s progress. Months ago, when they’d first met, Jango would’ve tried to kill the Jetii instead of having to go on a solo trip with three of them.

         “He can take as much time as he needs,” Din said. Grogu cooed, and Obi-wan set him down. The child began to chase after a bug that was flying around.

~

         It took until latemeal. Din had been hunched over a datapad containing a proposed treaty between the occupants of Kalevala. Satine had taken over the compromise after Din had mentioned Almec’s attitude surrounding the topic. She and Sainn had come to a fair agreement that satisfied both of their clans (with some exceptions, Almec included). Satine had even asked Bo-Katan for her help. Din was proud of his ade for handling the situation so effectively. He made a few notes on the document- his thoughts on potential conflicts certain sections could cause and other ideas- before sending it back for a final review. Din wondered if the Armorer had to do excessive paperwork when leading their covert.

         There was a knock on Din’s door, so he slid his helmet on (taking it off when he was alone helped him become more comfortable without it).

         “Olarom o’r,” he called, and the door opened. Master Tholme and Vos walked in and bowed. Din gestured for them to take a seat. The padawan looked tired, and Din wanted to tell him to go to bed- surely this could wait for the morning?- but this information could be vital.

         “Mand’alor,” Vas said, the most serious Din had seen the teen, “I believe your attacker was the Sith apprentice.”

         Din nodded in understanding. Qui-gon had given him a “Sith Crash Course,” which included the fact that the current generation of Sith only had two members- A master and an apprentice. An ineffective system if you asked Din, but the worse organized the dar’jetii were, the better for Din.

         “He- well, there was a lot of echos of emotions.” Vos took a deep breath. “I think I was able to weed out what was you and Obi-wan and what was the Sith. Unless you or Obi-wan have a well hidden anger issues.” Vos tried to smile. Din assumed it was a good sign that he was attempting to joke. “He seemed less angry at you two than at himself. There was fear too- it felt like I couldn’t breathe-“ Vos inhaled deeply again and shut his eyes. Tholme rested a hand on his padawan’s shoulder. Vos opened his eyes, looking more centered. Din resisted the urge to call an end to the meeting. Maybe it would be easier on the padawan to only write a report- no need to say everything out loud. Vos continued before Din could suggest it. “He was terrified of failing his Master- who really, really wants you dead. I wrote down everything.”

         Din wanted to sigh loudly and slump in his seat. While not a surprise, Din did not want to deal with it. But Vos had put himself through emotional and psychic pain for this information. So Din accepted the datapd and said, “Vor entye, Padawan Vos. Your help has been invaluable.”

         Vos bowed his head. Tholme patted his shoulder. “Why don’t you go have latemeal with Padawan Kenobi while I finish with the Mand’alor?” Both jetii looked to Din for this opinion- still weird-and he nodded in agreement. Let the kid rest.

         After Vos left the room, Tholme turned to Din. “The report will be shared with the Jedi Council, and I imagine they will want to discuss the situation and further actions.”

         Din examined the Master. Obi-wan had said that Tholme had worked on several intelligence missions for the Jedi. Din had worked with similar individuals during his bounty hunting days and was in the habit of trusting their instincts. “In your professional opinion, what should we do?”

         Tholme took a moment to consider the question before answering. “We have little information on either the master or apprentice and, as such, must be careful lest we act in a way that gives away what we know. The master wanted you dead, even before you were Mand’alor, which means they were aware of your position and potential for some time. The question is then, knowing the Sith have allied with Death Watch, was Death Watch aware of the attack on you? And, for that matter, how long have they been allied?”

         Din considered. Perhaps the spy had been present for longer than Din had assumed. Several people were wary and outright hostile to Din when he first appeared. Any number of them could have reported his relationship with Satine and how more and more Mandalorians had begun to seek his opinion and help. If the spy reported that to Death Watch, who then reported it to the dar’jetii…

         “Maybe they made a deal- work together to get rid of any perceived threats to Vizsla becoming Mand’alor,” Din guessed. It made sense. Better to deal with all potential problems instead of just the present one. Otherwise, they tended to come back and bite you in the shebs. Din knew from experience.

         “So, they have been allies since you came to Sundari at the lastest.”

         “Maybe longer. Mandalorians used to ally with the Sith, yes?” Din asked as he remembered that part of his crash course.

         Tholme nodded. “A long time ago, yes.”

         “Kyr’tsad are extreme traditionalists. Probably knew that, too. They would be stronger with the help of the dar’jetii.”

         “And the Sith knew they would be more powerful with Mandalore on their side,” Tholme finished Din’s thought. “You think this partnership has been going on for some time.”

         Din shrugged. “Makes sense.”

         “So the next question is then, how did either group know your whereabouts on the day off? I doubt it is a coincidence that they attacked on a day that you, the duchess, and Ser Fett were outside the palace.” Tholme tilted his head as he stared at Din. Din did not appreciate the jetii’s ability to look like he was staring straight through Din’s beskar and into his soul. It reminded him of Yoda but with less riddles.

         “That’s a rhetorical question,” Din guessed dryly.

         The Jetii cracked a smile. “You don’t seem surprised.”

         “Neither do you.”

         “I had a feeling Master Jinn was not telling me everything when he told me of the allyship. I, of course, understand your hesitance to tell me.”

         “And will you tell your council?” Din asked. His initial reluctance was about trusting the new Jetii, but Din knew a warrior when he met one, and Tholme, even with his regal tone, was one.

         “I may suggest the possibility,” Tholme answered. “Just as I will suggest you to consider having your own.”

         “You want me to catch a spy with a spy?” It sounded like the plot of a low-budget holo-film.

         “It would be a dangerous position, so I would not blame you for not wanting to consider it. Normally, I would suggest a Jedi trained for such a thing, but I do not believe that would be a wise decision in this case. But I believe having inside information about your spy and Death Watch’s plans is ideal.”

         Din sighed. He had a point. “Because it’s the only lead we have on the Sith.”

         Tholme nodded sympathetically. “Unfortunately. Not to say the Jedi won’t be looking into the matter, but to maintain the secrecy needed as well, it may take some time.”

         “Time we may not have.”

         “Indeed.”

         “I’ll have to think about who I would trust to do this,” Din said after thinking about it. “No one I know personally would be believable.”

         “I agree.” Tholme stood up from his seat. “I am sorry to leave you with such an ask. I will give you time to think about it. Shall we meet again tomorrow before my padawan and I depart for Coruscant?”

         “Leaving so soon?”

         “I believe it is best to deliver this report in person,” Tholme explained. “I never trust such sensitive information to the Holonet.”

         Din agreed, and the Jedi bowed before exiting, leaving Din to his thoughts.

         Most Haat Mando’ade were very vocal about their hatred of Kyr’tsad, especially after they attacked the hospital, which had killed hundreds of citizens, dozens of them being children. So a Haat Mando’ade was out. Could a New Mandalorian be believable? There had been some dissent among the more radical ones, but most had been soothed by Satine’s promises to ensure their beliefs were respected, which Din thought he had done a pretty good job at. Don’t want to fight or handle weapons? Ok, great, but that doesn’t mean others can’t. Maybe Satine would have a good idea about who to ask- though that would mean Din would have to tell her. While Din was confident she could handle it, she was still just a teenager, and Din didn’t like putting that kind of pressure and knowledge on her. Someone from the more traditional clans that followed him would probably work, but Din didn’t know any of them well enough to trust them.

         There was the added factor that Din had no idea what clan the spy was pretending to be a part of. If he had an agent in Sundari, he could miss someone in Keldabe, and the same would be true in the other direction. So, should he have two? Would they know about each other? There were too many variables for Din to be comfortable. Sure, he had taken contracts with little information- they often paid better-but he had always done his best to gather his own information. And, if something did go wrong, only he would be majorly affected in the end. His tribe may have suffered a bit, but soon enough, someone would’ve taken his role, and they would move on. Now, he has an entire nation to worry about should he make the wrong move. It made him feel off-put.

         Ok, he needed to take small steps for this.

Step 1: he needed help- preferably not from one of his kids. Silis would be a good start; maybe he knew someone trained in this kind of stuff.

Step 2: Figure out logistics- one spy or two? Should they directly contact Din or someone else? Hopefully, Tholme will offer his opinions.

Step 3: Somehow test the candidates because Din was nothing if not a little paranoid

Step 4: Pray and try not to get a stress ulcer.

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<Back/Next>

Mando'a translations:

Olarom o'r: olaron for welcome, as a greeting, while o'r means in. So I combined them to mean welcome in (come in)

[forffax]

general oc questions: 10 and 20!

Thana: 6, 7, 12, 19

Vague: 12, 15

Mitch: 1, 2, 3, 12 (I KNOW ONE OF THEM AT LEAST LOL)

Niko: 8, 14, 19

THANK U CHASE!!! :]

10. Which of your OCs would be most likely to survive a zombie apocalypse? Which would die immediately?

Zephyr I think would survive through sheer luck but she'd be miserable and sobbing and screaming and throwing up as he miraculously cleared out a whole horde of zombies

Mitch would be patient zero skjdfgs. Brand New Diseases just for you!

20. Which of your OCs would you most like to meet in person, if they could become real (or you could visit them) for a day?

I have thought about this extensively and it is Lux no question. Need to give that man a hug in real life so bad <3 Plus if I got to visit him I'd probably get to meet the rest of the family too and that would be the best thing in the world actually.

Athanasius (she/her)

6. What catalyzed their introduction to the plot?

On a meta level, Thana's been there since the beginning! Within the story, she and Zephyr met by chance n became close almost immediately... and once Jules (Zephyr and Lux's dad) met her and heard abt her circumstances (passed around the adoption and foster care systems her whole life), he started making plans to adopt her formally <3 (this didn't get finalized until after Lux disappeared though...)

7. What attribute of them (some facet of their personality, their history, their look, or whatever etc) would you find most important to somehow preserve if they were transplanted to an AU fanfic?

She is butch forever and ever that is integral to who she is as a person <3 sdjkfgs idk whenever I think abt AUs for my characters they stay very similar personality-wise, I just like Putting Them in New Situations... Thana is always very community/family oriented, and really needs the ability to carve out a space for herself no matter where she is!

12. Has your character committed any crimes (per their universe's laws)? If not, which crime would your character most likely commit?

She's probably gotten a couple speeding tickets, but that's the extent of it! (She's a good driver otherwise sdfhjsjks)

19. Does your character have any health issues, whether they're aware of them or not?

She's got diabetes (type 1) and occasionally gets migraines. She's had diabetes since she was a kid but the migraines didn't start bothering her until she was in her 30s.

Vague (it/they)

12. Has your character committed any crimes (per their universe's laws)? If not, which crime would your character most likely commit?

In Niko's universe? Frequently. It's all off-screen and implied more than anything but since they're functionally unkillable it goes and blows up rich ppl's heads every once in a while <3 Human vague probably just steals from gas stations for no real reason and doesn't do its taxes. Might have gotten into a few fights, but no one's ever pressed charges... also loitering but that's a dumb crime

15. Is your character's first instinct fight or flight? Is there something that could force them to do the opposite?

Vague is v much the type to freeze, assess the situation, and then fight viciously. It would only run away if they felt like they were completely outmatched (not much stimulation in just getting killed instantly) or if someone it cared about was in more pressing danger...

Mitch (he/him)

1. How did you choose their name?

I will be honest. I do not remember how I chose "Mitch" as a name <3 just sounded right I suppose! But I remember picking "Orville" as his alias because it was the dorkiest thing I could think of skjdgfks.

2. Were they created for the story, or was the story created for them?

Mitch's story was created around him! I remember wanting to make an "edgy" oc that morally sucked and then it all kinda spiraled from there <3 v funny 2 me how the story was created for him but Charlie is the real main character now skjdfhs

3. Do they have a love interest, and was that their choice or yours?

Nope! I don't think Mitch is super interested in dating or forming romantic relationships just by the nature of who he is and what he does... He n Lee have fucked around while trying to figure out their relationship 2 each other but they both are kinda ultimately like ew no. they're unhealthily codependent friends and nothing more <3

On a meta level skjdhfgs can u imagine giving this guy a partner. insufferable and also charlie is there standing off to the side on all their dates

12. Has your character committed any crimes (per their universe's laws)? If not, which crime would your character most likely commit?

well,

murder, desecration of a corpse, kidnapping, removal and concealment of bodies, knowingly covering up multiple crimes, petty theft, blackmail... more probably <3

Niko (he/they)

8. If your character's financial situation were to suddenly flip (someone poor becoming rich, someone rich becoming poor, etc), how well would they handle it? What would be the first thing they would do?

Niko's broke as shit throughout most of his story and also under a lot of stress so if they suddenly got a ton of money he'd freak out sdjfjks. But I think they'd secure housing for themselves and their bandmates and make sure they could all focus on their music instead of having to worry about bills and stuff <3 he'd probably donate the rest!

14. How does your character feel about riding horses (or your world's closest approximation of a horse if it lacks horses)?

The idea of real life horses in my all cat furries world is so funny to me. Niko would probably be mildly scared of horses but would enjoy riding them, even if they don't get to very often <3

19. Does your character having any health issues, whether they're aware of them or not?

Niko's got bad knees and arthritis, specifically in his hands (paws?). They wear knee braces under their clothes usually and occasionally he wears compression gloves/bands on his hands/wrists <3

[nocturna-starr]

I Am the Son of the Ghost King

Prompter: @five-rivers

Prompt:  After their fight, Pariah Dark decides Danny has all the qualities he wants in an heir and forcibly adopts him. (Danny can either lose the fight to put him back in the Sarcophagus, or Pariah can get out again later

Words: 1251

The halls of Pariah’s keep were so dark, not even the multiple torches aligning each of the walls could break through the dark. Perhaps it was better this way, as it hid from sight the ghosts pleading for their lives as they were dragged to Pariah Dark’s throne room.

To the knowledge of few outside of the palace, Pariah Dark had once again escaped the sarcophagus of forever sleep. Enraged by the betrayal of his subjects, the King of Ghosts had sent his skeleton ghosts to find all of those who had made the rash decision to rise up against him and force them to see their punishment.

But Pariah was also looking for another. A child who despite everything, somehow beat him into submission – even if only for a little while. It had taken the powers of the ancients himself to defeat him last time. Yet a mere child had been victorious? Unspeakable!

That child would one day get even stronger. With the right ambition, he could be the one to rule over both the human realms and the ghost zone. He was not someone you wanted as an enemy. He was the perfect child to have as an heir. Pariah knew the boy had a human half and potentially even human parents. He didn’t care. He had heard rumours that the boy’s parents didn’t even know about his abilities. Then they wouldn’t need to know about the ghost king adopting the child they clearly neglected, would they?

The only trouble was that the boy was extremely stubborn, famously so. That solution required the threatening of the observants for a relic that could fix that. Yes, the amulet Ĝojo de la Patro would be a perfect solution.

“Sire! Sire!” One of the few loyal castle servants ran into the throne room, “Your knights have found him!”

Pariah Dark grinned, “Then let’s bring him in, shall we?”

“Yes my Lord.”

True to his nature, the boy came in struggling. He didn’t beg for freedom, nor was he quiet. The troublemaker seemed to have a mouth that could run a mile a minute. No harm, Pariah could just force the boy to give up that trait. He was in his ghost form, wearing his strange black suit with white gloves, boots, and belt. When he noticed the king sitting on the throne, the boy’s green eyes widened in shock and fear. Pariah frowned. One day the boy would come to love him.

“Daniel Phantom, you have been charged with treason. How do you plead?” Pariah Dark boomed.

“I plead the second.” The boy responded. Pariah Dark was not stupid. He knew the boy was trying to play a game of wits.

“You plead that you are bound to a lady’s hand and are only doing her wishes?” That wasn’t actually a legal excuse. In his existence, the king of ghosts had heard only one knight plead this. Instead of the intended desire, mercy, that had only made things worse. There was a reason that only the Fright Knight was left of his non-skeleton servants.

“What? No! I mean… you know what? Never mind. I plead not guilty.” The boy glared at his king.

Pariah grinned wickedly. “Is that so?”

“Not that I have to explain myself, but I was only doing what was right!” The boy sounded so confident in his words, like a royal prince should.

“Daniel Phantom, you have been found guilty of this crime. Because of your young age, you shall be pardoned!”

“What?” The boy fell when the skeletal soldiers dropped him on the ground. At Pariah Dark’s nod, the child grinned, “Thanks! You know maybe some of the ghosts were wrong about you. Since we’re cool and all, I’m going home. You have no idea how late it is. I have a test in the morning too!”

Pariah Dark stood up. He snapped his fingers and a new skeleton appeared carrying the amulet.

“To show our good will, we are presenting a gift to you.” Pariah Dark motioned for the boy to come forward. The child nervously took a step, before seeming to determine the danger was too high. No matter, one day the boy wouldn’t need to fear his king.

“Umm… is that a necklace?”

“Indeed child. It is one of the rare artifacts of the first ghost king. He gave this to his eldest son, and his eldest son passed it on to his son. I have retrieved it from the observants.” Pariah enjoyed watching the child try to reason why he would be given such a gift. He could see the kid weighing all the possibilities. Finally the boy sighed.

“You aren’t going to possess me, make me do something against my will, use me as a device to take over the world or you know… kill me, right?” The boy sighed.

Pariah smirked, “I would not need an amulet to do that to you. All I would need to do is simply wish for it to happen, and it would be so.”

“That is not nearly as comforting as you think it is.” The prince-to-be sighed, “I don’t have a choice in putting this thing on, do I?”

The Ghost King shook his head. “It would be rude to reject a gift.”

The child sighed once more before asking, “May I put it on myself then?”

The King of Ghosts snapped his fingers. A skeletal servant came running into the room. It carefully took the amulet than ran over to the prince. It presented Ĝojo de la Patro while kneeling on the ground.  The boy took it then carefully placed it around his neck. The servant disappeared in a whiff a smoke.

Pariah Dark motioned towards the door. “It must be very late in the Human-Realm. My servants can bring you home.”

The boy eyed him as he exited the room. The child knew the King’s actions were too friendly. He was just as the other ghosts had claimed. He would truly be a warrior prince!

Pariah waited a minute or two. At the fourth minute, he feared that the amulet had not lived up to expectations.  Of course, the observants had given him the wrong thing! They were more untrustworthy than the senators in Rome!

All his fears were squashed when the boy raced back into the room. “What did you do to me? Why can’t I leave this place? Why can’t I take off this stupid thing?”

“Ĝojo de la Patro means joy of the father. It was given to the eldest child because he was the king’s favourite and the king couldn’t bear to part with his dear son. The amulet forces the prince, or wearer to be within 50 meters of the current ghost king. Until I take it off, you will always be at my side.” Pariah informed him.

“WHAT! I CA- WHY?”

“You are to be the next ghost king.” Pariah Dark smiled, “You need to be at my side at all times.”

“You can’t do this to me!”

“Take Prince Daniel to his chambers.”

The boy tried to fight away the skeletal servants. What he didn’t realize was the futility of the situation. The soldiers would form with the blink of an eye and at the will of the king. There was an unlimited amount.

“When you have finished your temper tantrum, you shall go to bed. Then I will train you in the morn.” Pariah left his adopted son to the mercy of the hordes.

[pennamesmith]

For Want of a Skeletor

Entrapta hosts a Princess Alliance meeting at the Crypto Castle and absolutely nothing goes wrong. More Skeletor stories!

*

The lights were on late in Dryl. 

Stars shone outside the windows. Entrapta sat hunched over her desk, studying datapads and readouts. A polite cough from the laboratory door caused her to look up from her work.

“Oh! I’m sorry Hordak, did I wake you?”

Her partner stepped softly into the room and shook his head. “Imp did. You know how he gets when either of us take too long to come to bed.” 

Hordak crossed the cluttered floor and joined Entrapta at the desk. He was holding Imp in his arms, and the smaller, winged clone whined plaintively when he saw her. Entrapta kept her screens on, but leaned gratefully into Hordak’s side and curled a tendril of hair around his waist. She yawned, despite herself. 

“I know. I just want to make sure I get everything right before the other princesses come over tomorrow.” She glanced back at the data, nervously tapping her fingertips together. “I’ve never hosted an Alliance meeting before! And this rescue will be our biggest mission since… well, you know. I don’t want to mess anything up.”

Hordak smiled. “Your diligence is admirable. But I also seem to recall someone telling me that imperfections are beautiful.”

Entrapta stuck out her tongue. “No fair.” 

“I’m afraid the science is sound. Come to bed, my dear.” 

The scientist scoffed, but she did not protest when Hordak gathered her up in his arms. She wrapped more of her hair around him, and Imp settled sleepily in the resulting nest. Entrapta could already feel herself drifting. 

“You will be a shining star tomorrow,” Hordak promised, as he carried his family back to rest. 

“Tomorrow,” echoed Imp.

*

The next day saw the Crypto Castle’s largest meeting room filled with princesses, dignitaries, and other honorary Alliance members. While Scorpia and Perfuma admired the tiny refreshments laid out for everyone, Mermista split her time between groaning at Sea Hawk’s boasts and trying every available chair to find the most comfortable one. Glimmer and Bow stepped uneasily around the edges of the room, watching carefully for anything that might be a trap, and Frosta followed their lead. Netossa and Spinnerella tried their best to find a chair Swift Wind could sit in. 

Adora and Catra, wearing increasingly baffled expressions, were conversing with two domestic-looking robots who sat at the head of the table next to Entrapta. One was tall and skinny, and the other wore a welded-on handlebar mustache. 

“Entrapta has parents?” Catra was asking, her face a galaxy of disbelief. 

“Adopted, technically. Or adapted,” the skinnier bot explained. “We’re Entrapta’s parental units. She built us when she was six. You must have seen the painting in the foyer.” 

“Yeah, we’ve been here pretty much the whole time,” the mustachioed model added. “You kids sure made a racket during your last few visits. What was that all about?” 

“Uh,” Adora faltered. 

To her immense relief, Hordak swept into the room at that very moment, flanked by Imp, Emily, and the reprogrammed Horde drone Entrapta had dubbed ‘Skeletor.’ 

“Welcome, everyone,” Hordak boomed, bringing the gathering to a respectful hush. 

“Witless fools! I’m in charge now! And if you know what’s good for you you’ll do as I say!” Skeletor shouted. 

Hordak scowled and shooed the fussing robot away from the table. “Pay no mind to that one,” he grumbled once he’d regained the floor. “Now then. Please allow me the honor of introducing the unparalleled mind who has made this operation possible, Princess Entrapta.” 

“Thank you all for coming!” Entrapta started, while everyone took their seats. “I know you’re all excited about what we’re planning, but there’s still a lot of preparation to do before we can take off. As the chief science officers for this mission, it’s vital that Hordak and I gather as much data on your abilities as possible! Interdimensional travel is severely unpredictable and —” 

“Hold on,” Mermista interrupted. “Exactly how high are the chances of us getting mutated by cosmic space energy or whatever? Because I only want cool mutations, not gross ones.” 

“Maybe thirty, thirty-five percent?” Entrapta guessed. She shrugged. “A lot of this is theoretical. You guys will be like my guinea pigs! By which I mean the small robotic animals in the castle I protect and care for. And experiment on, sometimes.” 

She laughed heartily. Glimmer and Bow shared a nervous glance. Perfuma turned slightly green. 

Entrapta regained her composure and pointed back to the display board. “Ahem. Anyway, the good news is we already know some things about where we’re going! Probably.” She shuffled her notes, gaining confidence as she spoke.

“Before Adora found the Sword of Protection, historians debated ancient records of She-Ra. Some claimed she was called ‘Her-Ra’ and fought for the ‘Power of Grayskull.’ But I theorize that what those archaeologists actually uncovered was evidence of —”

“I have a question!” Frosta yelled. “Will there be hunky guys in the other dimension? I’m asking for a friend.”

“It’s funny you mention that, actually,” Entrapta replied. “Listen, just let me finish and…” 

Unfortunately, anxious impatience had already gripped the assembled Alliance members. They clamored with questions, all talking at the same time. Entrapta shrank back in her seat and pulled her welding mask down, seeming to reach for something under the table. 

Hordak stood up. Just as it looked like he was about to do something violent, a loud alarm sounded and the lights in the room flashed red. 

“Uh-oh.” Entrapta glanced around at the assembled company. “Um, get ready to tuck and roll everybody!”

“Get ready to what?” Mermista cried out, but it was already too late. Multiple trap doors swung open across the meeting room floor, and with flailing limbs and startled shouts the guests were sent tumbling down chutes in every direction. In moments they had all vanished.

“I always feel so much better after doing something bad!” Skeletor cackled. “Now we begin phase two!” 

*

Adora and Catra, who had clung to each other as they fell, landed with a bump in a darkened, underground space. As soon as they arrived, bright lights flickered to life and a huge screen lit up against the wall. 

Entrapta’s face appeared on the monitor, larger than life. “Oh good! You’re alive,” she chirped when she saw the other two. 

Adora clambered to her feet. “Entrapta! What’s going on?” 

The scientist glanced away. “Well, I guess Skeletor didn’t like that we were ignoring him. So he stole my map of the castle and activated the security systems! Which means we’re all lost in the labyrinth until I can catch him. Isn’t that great?” 

“It’s something,” Catra groaned, rubbing her head. 

“Exactly! Now, without my map I can’t come find you. But if you can make it through the traps, the hallway you’re in should take you back to the meeting room. Then you’ll be safe until I can fix things!” 

The screen dimmed again before Catra or Adora could protest. Left with few other options, they turned to get a good look at whatever dangers lay ahead. 

They were standing at one end of a long corridor. Square blocks floated along its length, suspended in midair with anti-gravitational tech. An interrogative punctuation mark flashed on one, while a squat robot with painted-on angry eyebrows shambled slowly back and forth beneath it. 

Catra took it all in. “You have got to be kidding.” 

Adora had already drawn her sword and begun to venture forward. Catra was about to follow her, when something made her ears flick. A suspicious frown crossed her face.

“Hey, Adora!” Catra called. “Listen!” 

“What?” 

Catra pressed her ear to the wall. “There! Do you hear that?” 

“Obviously not,” Adora huffed. “Now stop dawdling, the first puzzle looks pretty easy.” 

Catra stayed where she was. “Hold on a second. This part of the castle feels familiar. I remember walking through here back when, uh, back when it was still Horde territory.” She coughed awkwardly, and then reached up to tilt the frame of a big-eyed kitten painting. “Look!” 

Something clicked and the wall slid open, revealing a new passageway. Distinctive laughter could be heard coming from the other end of it. A purple neon sign reading “Secret Entrance!!!” buzzed to life. 

Adora sighed and rolled her eyes. 

“One time Entrapta had me and Scorpia over for a life-size Snakemen and Ladders game that got a little out of hand,” Catra explained as they entered the tunnel. At the far end there was a brightly lit office; inside, it was filled with laboratory equipment, video monitors, and a humble but dignified desk. 

Hordak was sitting at the desk, in what appeared to be a smaller version of his old Fright Zone throne. It swiveled. Entrapta was sitting on the desk, and she waved as the other couple entered. 

“Myaah! Sleep gas and stun-rays only, my evil minions!” muttered Skeletor, who was busy working the video monitors. On closer inspection, Adora realized that each of them showed some of the other princesses as they traversed the castle labyrinth. 

“Welcome to mission control!” Entrapta sang, spreading her arms wide. “Hordak didn’t think you’d find us, but I had a hypothesis you might.” 

“It was a ruse!” Adora gasped, scandalized. “You’re not lost at all!” 

“You really need to hang out with Entrapta more if that still surprises you,” Catra observed. She looked at the monitors. “Ah, are they gonna be okay?” 

“Better than!” Entrapta sprang off the desk, hanging by her hair as she showed off multiple datapads. “Everyone was getting a little… distracted upstairs, so I just decided to speed things up a teensy bit! The princesses using their powers to escape the maze will let me get all the readings we need, and then we can have a nice little party! I had the baker make tiny cakes.” 

“I made sure Hordak’s doomberry pie was especially tasty!” Skeletor piped up. 

“And it’s all perfectly safe!” Entrapta promised. Discreetly, a ribbon of hair reached out to push a blinking button. On the monitors, Mermista and Sea Hawk were rescued from a robot shark attack by a convenient change of the currents. 

“This is hilarious,” Catra laughed, looking more closely. On one of the screens, Swift Wind was gleefully running loop-de-loops along a curving racetrack. “I think they’re actually having fun in there. Can we stay and watch?” 

“I’m afraid not,” Hordak said. She-Ra’s — and your — assessment is the most important of all. But we’d love to have you over to the castle for dinner soon. Shall we say eight o’clock next week?” 

“That sounds nice!” Adora chimed, before Catra could stop her. 

“Splendid. I’ll cook,” Hordak concluded. Then he pressed a button on his desk, and a trapdoor sent the younger women plummeting through the floor. 

Catra and Adora yelped in surprise, only for their fall to be cut short by an enormous pile of pillows on the level below. They struggled to their feet. Another corridor stretched away in front of them, filled with further challenges. Floating gold coins, each about four feet tall, indicated a pathway. 

“Try not to have too much fun,” Hordak called good-naturedly as the trapdoor slid shut. 

“Use the warp zone! It’s faster!” Entrapta added. 

“Have a nice trip down!” said Skeletor. 

*

Hordak settled back in his chair (it had soft armrests, and a cushion for lumbar support) and watched his partner at work. Entrapta flitted from screen to screen, taking notes and making adjustments. On one display, Bow and Glimmer had met up with Netossa and Spinnerella while navigating a cage minefield. On another, Frosta was making an ice bridge to help Perfuma and Scorpia cross a slow-moving spike trap. 

“I’m sorry you had to use your backup plan. They really are utter fools if they ever doubted your genius,” Hordak mused. 

“Different people have different strengths and weaknesses,” Entrapta replied, without looking up from her work. “And a good scientist collaborates whenever they can! Even if that requires a little creativity sometimes.” 

Hordak nodded. “Fair enough. Nevertheless, I would not blame you if you wished to have nothing more to do with the Princess Alliance. Even their attempts to help you can seem… insensitive. You’re not obligated to forgive that.” 

Skeletor looked up from his control panel and shook a fist. “Don’t you get awfully tired of being a hero all the time? Don’t you ever feel like doing something evil?” 

“They’re trying to be good friends,” Entrapta defended. “And so am I. And if I really did need their help, maybe things would be different. But I’ve got it all under control!” 

She vaulted across the room, flipping switches and turning dials along the way. On the monitors, Perfuma’s fall from a tall platform was gently broken by a sudden anti-gravitational field. 

“Besides, forgiveness isn’t always about the person being forgiven. It’s also about taking back potential energy that was lost.” 

“Did you learn that in my brother’s therapy group?” Hordak asked. 

Entrapta smirked. “Actually, he got it from me.” 

A pleasant ding sounded and Entrapta clapped her hair. “Hooray, everyone made it back! I’ll calculate the high scores and then we can continue the social experiment!” 

“You astonish me every day,” Hordak purred as he rose to follow her. Entrapta put out her hand, and he took it. 

“Wait for me!” Skeletor cried out. “You might get lost by yourself!” 

*

One week later, a much smaller gathering of royals met in Dryl. 

Catra and Adora sat together in one of the Crypto Castle’s least intimidating dining rooms, listening with barely-contained delight as Entrapta’s parental units thoroughly embarrassed their former boss. 

“...And so I said to him, ‘I have charging ports Hordak, can you download raw data offa me?’ Ha! Oh, you shoulda seen his face!” 

Hordak slouched in his chair. “I do not think we need to bore our guests with the details of this particular story,” he protested, feebly. 

“Oh, I’m not bored at all! I want to hear everything,” Catra said. She leaned forward, grinning. “So, was this before or after you hooked him up to the lie detector?” 

Entrapta giggled, and gave Hordak a gentle pat on the shoulder as she reached for another helping of his tiny quiche. All things considered, the night was going surprisingly well. 

It was exactly what Entrapta wanted. 

After dinner, wheeled bots carted away the leftovers and dirty dishes. Hordak poured coffee for himself and Adora, and the parental units retired to wherever it was they lived in the cavernous castle. Entrapta, lost in thought as usual, felt a familiar feline presence approach her. 

“Thank you,” Catra said, sincerely. “Not just for this. For everything. For being so nice all the time. For making this mission happen. It means a lot to me.” 

Entrapta smiled softly. “To me, too. Everyone makes mistakes. It would be a shame not to learn from them when we can.” 

“Did you say something?” Skeletor squawked, suddenly materializing in the doorway. 

Entrapta, unbothered, immediately produced a datapad. “Oh we’re just talking about the big rescue mission! Actually, you should probably take a look at my data, Skeletor. I haven’t told you much yet, and we might need you!” She held the blinking screen out happily. 

Skeletor looked at the datapad. At first he seemed confused; then he boggled as he registered the information in front of him. “Eternia?” he gasped in disbelief. “Grayskull?” 

His voice rose to a fevered pitch. “He-Man!”

For once, Skeletor had no words. He shrieked incomprehensibly instead, fists shaking. 

Hordak chuckled. “It’ll be just like the old days!” 

Skeletor screamed. 

[harlequinj94]

DMC OC Week Day 2

Yeah I know I'm late shut up

Day 2 stuff that I posted on Twitter this morning and am posting here now. Here's how Sera gets along with (most of) the DMC crew. Relationships are in the order she met them.

Nero

Nero was the first person Sera met in Fortuna after she was…dropped off. They inherently “understood” each other from the start and she looked up to him the same way he looked up to Credo. She joined the Holy Knights alongside him, albeit for different reasons. Despite being younger than him, she acts more mature, but she was also the de facto babysitter for all the younger kids at the orphanage where they grew up, so that’s why.

Kyrie

Sera knew of Kyrie, but really got to know her after her family adopted Nero. She always appreciated Kyrie for being kind and always making sure to include her in things. The time they spent together decreased a bit when Kyrie became a songstress for the Order, but in the end Sera cared for her too much to cut contact like she wanted too. She won't sing with her, but she'll play accompaniment any time.

Credo

Credo was Sera's commanding officer and was strict and firm (and overprotective). The two would butt heads sometimes when the other officers would assign Sera some of the more dangerous patrol routes and he wouldn't let her go. However, once she realized that it was his way of looking out for her, she would relent. Mostly, Sera would seek his advice on how to be a good knight and still asks herself "what would Credo do" in most situations. She was devastated when he died and restarted the Order some time after its fall in his memory, this time as an organization dedicated to the protection of Fortuna rather than worshipping Sparda. Initially, she tried to get Nero to lead it because she knew how close the two were, but he opted not to. In the end, Sera took over the position of Supreme General at the behest of Kyrie, Nero, and the other knights.

Dante

The first time Sera encountered Dante was when he came to Fortuna to stop Sanctus. She didn’t get to see him, but every instinct in her was screaming “danger, danger, stay away”, so she did. When they properly met later, she was too afraid to go near him and the look he gave her wasn’t exactly friendly, so she continued to keep her distance. Time has soothed both their instincts and by the time of DMC5, they get along well enough to work together.

Trish

Sera was more curious about Trish/Gloria when they first met because she gave off the same vibes as the assaults and frosts, but she had a human shape and wasn’t hostile. (She hadn't encountered a demon with a human form before this).Trish however knew exactly who/what Sera was the second they met and decided to keep it to herself. Post-DMC4, Trish takes it upon herself to become the big sister that Sera didn't ask for to get her to loosen up. Sera herself isn't sure how to feel about their current relationship now because Sera is dutiful and conservative and Trish is...not...that.

Lady

Sera’s first thought upon meeting Lady was “do not fuck with this woman” and she was right. Their combat approaches work together the best and they’re often the ones to clear hordes when on jobs. Sera favors death from above, so she's good at staying out of her way. Outside of combat, Lady tends to help Trish tease Sera to get her to loosen up, but the woman is also there to lend an ear on days where Sera’s a little too in her own head. They essentially bond over "our dads suck, but we won't let them define us".

Nico

Sera and Nico are polar opposites which results in the two of them bickering more often than not. Nonetheless, Sera respects her intellect and mechanical ability, especially when she’s using it to help the knights and upgrade Fortuna's defenses. The two can spend hours going over old Order research and experimenting with Sera’s abilities. At some point, Sera started bringing back materials for Nico out of habit and had the knights do the same, so now she doesn’t have to pay for Nico’s services. She is occasionally smug about it.

Vergil

She currently reacts to Vergil the same way she initially reacted to Dante, which isn’t great and it takes everything in her to not vacate the premises when the two of them are together. But that's only sometimes. On days she’s feeling brave, she has to keep herself from arguing with him on Nero’s behalf whenever Vergil does something to upset him. Nero doesn’t want to upset/drive away the few blood relations he has and will uncharacteristically downplay conflict. (Un)fortunately, Sera has her own familial issues and a tendency to project, so she will gladly stand up for her friend when he refuses to fight himself. For his part, Vergil is patient with her and understands where she's coming from, so he lets her go off.

Mundus

He is the devil. We do not speak the name of the devil. If you value your life, D̷̳̲͆Ọ̶̃̆ ̴̢̩̃̏N̶͍̜͝O̴̼̭͘T̴̩̜̀ ̶̜̹̆̄S̶͙̍P̷̳͎͗E̶̖̝̓̇A̷͍̥͊͒Ķ̴͈̔͗ ̶͈̘́T̸͕̫̀H̶̯̑͝Ȅ̴̠̖ ̷̗͗N̶͍͠Á̴̘̲M̴͕̖̓͝E̸̊͜ ̶̟̈Ö̴̧F̸͖̎ ̴̜̓T̷̹͍̓H̵̘͛͆Ě̵̜ ̸̪͚͛͝D̷̫͕̒E̴̟͚̽V̶̫̠̋̃Ȋ̸̢̺͝Ļ̶̈́̎!̸̣̅

[magpiemorality]

Virgil suddenly has the power to turn invisible and finds a very affectionate snake (Dee), a baby hydra that randomly will split into various animals (creatitwins), a baby with curly hair (Pat), and a robot (Logan). He has to take care of all of them

This was unbelievably fun. I love the concept so much that I may elongate this eventually, the world is incredible and just- how did you even come up with this??? It’s awesome! I hope you enjoyed where I went with it- for the purposes of this prompt I went with just a sort of overview/slice-of-life :) 

Urban Fantasy AU, found family, pseudo-parent Virgil.

Warnings: snakes

AO3

***

Three years ago Virgil’s life changed forever. It’s been a wild ride since, but among the weirdest things that have happened as a result of being flung into a crazy, spectacular, fantastic world include (but are very much not limited to):

 -That time he accidentally earned a life debt from the Dragon Witch of Downtown;

 -Fighting a horde of pixies disguised as wasps on Midsummer’s Eve when they tried to fuse into some kind of pixish superentity that would’ve taken over the entire park system of the city;

 -Ending up dripping wet and furious in front of the shockingly human mayor when things had gone very wrong with a local kelpie;

 -Off the back of that- being officially inaugurated as the city’s Gatekeeper of the Odd and Atypically-Terrestrial (yeah he had a hand in coming up with that name and you bet he’d made sure it made a cool acronym);

 -Oh, and adopting a veritable menagerie of magical-or-otherwise individuals into a patchwork family of six (sometimes five; it’s complicated). 

That last one stands out, doesn’t it?

It certainly stands out to Virgil, who is only in his mid-twenties and very much under-qualified for basically everything his daily life now consists of. Saving and watching over the border between the sub- and sur-reality that makes up the city is one thing, and thanks to his handy-dandy (possibly granted by Death question mark) power of invisibility he can get those responsibilities done without too much issue or risk, and literally vanish when he needs the time away from it all. But the kids? You don’t duck out on kids- especially not these ones.

They’d never let him, for one thing. For another; he would never, ever want to.

Technically two of them aren’t actually kids; they’re just part of the family, but he’s fallen into the habit of parenting everyone he comes across now and they’ve yet to complain. Well, D.C. complains regularly, but Virgil knows it’s just for show. The other three (he says three; they could be two today but he hasn’t checked yet) are all actual children, and definitely require his parenting to stay alive.

Almost as if summoned the door to his room opens and little footsteps skitter in over the wooden floor. With a soft huff of effort Patton pulls himself up onto the bed, all soft blond curls and smiles, displaying the missing front teeth they’d had a whole debacle about the tooth fairy over. Virgil groans dramatically which makes the kid giggle, and he rolls over so Patton can come and sit on his chest and play with his bangs. He needs to dye those again soon, Virgil thinks as he yawns.

“It’s so late, you’re so sleepy!” Patton trills. His voice is high and sweet and there’s a note to it that makes Virgil wonder for the billionth time since the kid started talking if there’s something other than human in Patton’s background. He makes a mental reminder to check in with the Witches who ran the orphanage Patton had been dumped in when he goes to get his hair-dye, because if the boy turns out to be part siren or banshee then Virgil will definitely need the heads up.

For now the power of Patton’s cute pout is dangerous enough as it is. “You know, I used to sleep in every morning and not get up until lunchtime, until you guys came along,” Virgil says, booping Patton on the nose. The boy makes a face and rolls his eyes (he’d learned that from Logan) before clambering off him and walking to the end of the bed, where he hurls himself off and lands neatly on the floor a few feet away (he’d learned that from either Roman or Remus, or both). It doesn’t give Virgil as much of a heart attack as it had when he’d started doing it, because somehow he has yet to injure himself on landing. It’s pretty impressive really, and Virgil is just a teeny bit proud of his so- of the boy.

“We want pancakes!” Patton yells as he races out of the door, and an answering roar of ‘Pancakes!’ from down the hall signals that Roman and Remus are up as well.

It’s so early, ugh. But the kids are up; so he’s gotta be up. That’s how it works when you’re a parent, he’s learned.

Virgil glances over to the enormous tank on the far side of the room, meeting a pair of black eyes and a flickering tongue where the yellow anaconda is hanging out on the carefully selected plants that litter the floor of the terrarium. D.C., his best friend-slash-first-pseudo-family member, is snickering softly, and yawns while they hold eye contact, giving Virgil a pointed twitch of the head in the direction of the door before he slithers off to curl back up in his favourite corner under the sunlamp, out of sight. Traitor. He knows damn well he’s the only thing that can currently distract the twins while Virgil is trying to get things done as efficiently as possible. Fine, the human will just have to get him back another time then. 

Logan appears at his door on the way past to the living room, drawn by the noise. He stops and looks in on Virgil, who gives him a little wave as he rolls out of bed. “You are required in the kitchen, Mr. Gatekeeper,” the android says, and then he’s gone again. Virgil shakes his head fondly. He could do without constantly being referred to by his title, but Logan is a bit of a work in progress. 

Since being rescued from a nasty fae lab under the Library, Logan’s processors have been a little screwy. How he even manages to function without the fae who built him powering him directly is quite the mystery, but function he does, and they’re working on finding him some better memory banks to help with the acquisition of new knowledge as soon as possible. For now the android knows a lot of things, but is shockingly naive, and Virgil has had his hands full trying to acclimate the poor guy to the real world, instead of the world of books he’d previously known. 

Everything else aside, though, Logan does have a point. There’s already a lot of concerning noise coming from along the corridor and with a baby Hydra with a penchant for shape-shifting and a terrifying grasp of the concept of divide and conquer; a fearless and far too easily led seven year old with a face that will get him literally everything his heart desires; an android who knows probably more than all the experts in the world combined but is the walking definition of 'you spent so long wondering if you could that you never stopped to think whether or not you should’; Virgil needs to hurry up before the place is burned down. He’s their only impulse control, after all. 

So he breaks into a jog once he’s pulled his hoodie over his t-shirt, disappearing out of the room to try and supervise his unorthodox and wonderful family. 

D.C. blinks at the disturbance and smiles to himself. “He’ll be fine,” he murmurs, tongue flickering once before he settles back to sleep to the distant sounds of glorious chaos. 

--

Next

[tlbodine]

What Zombie Movies Teach Us About COVID-19

As I write this, it is April 20, 2020, and  42,514 Americans have died of COVID-19, the disease caused by a deadly novel coronavirus first discovered in late 2019. South Korea has just  237 deaths from the disease. 

The two countries learned about the virus at roughly the same time, and had the same amount of time to respond to the disease. But the responses took wildly different paths, with vastly different outcomes -- as you can see. 

But I’m not here to talk about that, not exactly. I’m here to talk about zombies. 

Train to Busan (2016), directed by Yeon Sang-ho, tells the story of a zombie outbreak in Korea, with the action focused predominantly on the passengers of a train. It’s one of my favorite zombie movies, in large part because the flavor of its zombie narrative is so different from the types of zombie stories we see in America. It’s a fresh spin, driven by cultural influences and the director’s vision, and it’s a movie that’s been at the forefront of my mind since watching the vastly different responses of South Korea and the USA to the current pandemic. 

Train to Busan is a film concerned with the morality of classism, a theme repeated in many South Korean exports (see 2019′s Parasite for another example). Innate in that premise is a moral statement about collectivism, cooperation and kindness that runs contrary to everything American zombie fiction holds dear. 

Train to Busan’s main character, Seok Woo, is a fund manager, a white-collar businessman who operates in the financial sector. In his introduction, we see him reviewing reports of the biological leak that we the viewer already know is responsible for zombies; he advises a concerned investor not to sell his shares, as the reports could be false or the worry is premature -- and then, a moment later, hangs up the phone and sells his own shares. It's implied later that his role in financing the company may give him some moral responsibility in the disaster -- ie, he invested in a company, knew that it was harmful, and reacted not by blowing the whistle on that harm but instead by selling his ownership and thus profiting.

The film treats this as morally reprehensible. Indeed, Seok Woo's storyline is a tragedy: We will see him brought low by his flaws, struggle to overcome them, but ultimately fall short.

This is quite different from American zombie narratives, which more often than not place the hero as a working-class underdog who finds himself suddenly uniquely equipped to deal with the threat at hand. Consider police officer Rick Grimes (and, for that matter, hillbilly archer Daryl) in The Walking Dead, or retired U.N. investigator Gerry Lane in World War Z. Perhaps the best example of the type is Zombieland's Tallahassee, a quintessential "Florida Man" -- rough around the edges, crude, eccentric, socially inept but good with a gun and  a willingness to adopt the role of patriarch in the post-apocalyptic found family narrative. 

Implicit in American zombie fiction is a promise of role reversal, of a social upheaval in which established ruling classes will no longer matter and in which new lines of power can be drawn -- and that power rests squarely on a foundation of guns, violence, and a small but tightly knit family structure united against external threats both human and supernatural. 

Of course, guns can’t serve as a currency of power or survival in Train to Busan because there are no guns. South Korea has some of the world’s strictest gun laws, and nobody riding on a passenger train would have a firearm at the ready. This makes for a much more thrilling narrative thanks to the balance of power shifting heavily in the zombie horde’s favor; it also forces characters to work together for survival, relying more on wits than strength.

Like many zombie film protagaonists before him, Seok Woo is a father -- a disengaged, overworked father, but one who’s trying his best. But unlike some horror movie kids, his daughter Su-An is more than a victim-in-waiting; she’s the moral centerpiece of the story, an external conscience who serves to gently remind her father of his misplaced priorities and call him on his bullshit.

Fleshing out the rest of the cast are more unlikely heroes: a high school baseball team, a homeless man, a pair of old ladies, and a middle-aged man, Sang-hwa, traveling with his pregnant wife. Sang-hwa is an especially important character, holding up a mirror in some ways to our protagonist: he has a successful, loving marriage where the hero's has failed; he is a doting, patient father where Seok-woo is out of touch.

It is hardly coincidental that this core group of characters is comprised almost exclusively of vulnerable people. And once the zombie disaster strikes, it becomes clear that the job of the less-vulnerable is to step up and protect the most vulnerable, even within a group where no one is especially skilled, heroic, or well-trained to deal with this.

Self-sacrifice is the recurring theme of Train to Busan, delivered with a bludgeoning regularity -- but each death is valorized, the narrative making it clear through its storytelling techniques that these sacrifices are meaningful and heroic.

It’s worth noting, too, that the self-sacrifice that drives the narrative is made necessary by the selfishness of others. Sang-hwa is bitten and stays behind to hold back hordes of zombies only because another group of survivors locked them out of their car.

Those exclusionary survivors -- a group spearheaded by a rich businessman who declares himself early on to be too important to risk his life -- receive their comeuppance soon enough. Here's the clip in all its satisfying glory: 

All of which is not to say that self-sacrifice is not a trope that shows up in other zombie media as well. But I have never seen it the focus of a film with such brazen commitment before. 

In Hollywood storytelling, self-sacrifice all too often comes in two flavors. The first: The only righteous path a fatally flawed anti-hero can take. The second: A heroic cop-out, where the character sacrifices him/herself but fails to actually die thanks to unexpected circumstances -- suggesting, thematically, that willingness toward self-sacrifice is all that is required, and that good things come to those who deserve them. 

In a lot of zombie media -- and post-apocalyptic media in general -- storylines often flirt with the morality of sacrificing other people for the greater good. Heroes will grapple with the decision, and the one who pulls the trigger may ultimately succumb to guilt or plot karma (Shane and Otis in The Walking Dead, for example), but the discussion is given serious weight and consideration. 

Train to Busan makes it clear that such cold calculations aren’t just villainous, they’re cowardly and pathetic. 

Other popular zombie tropes that fail to make an appearance in the film include: 

A self-appointed leader calling the shots and telling others to get in line 

The asshole pragmatist arguing with the self-appointed leader

The untrustworthy outsider and/or villainous mole 

The weak or cowardly idiot who gets people killed by virtue of being useless and/or careless 

Utterly useless or corrupt government/military/authority 

In many zombie stories, man is the real monster, and this holds true in many ways for Train to Busan. But the focus is different. Rather than the monster being the outsider who comes for your supplies, or the stranger who you trust only to be stabbed in the back, the worst humans in Train to Busan are those who act with distrust and selfishness. 

Declaring yourself the leader, securing a perimeter, and making a difficult choice to turn away strangers at the gate in order to protect your own group is the action of heroes in a show like The Walking Dead. In Train to Busan, those same actions are villainous and ultimately lead to ruin. 

On the flipside, soft-heartedness in American zombie films is often both foolish and disastrous. Consider, for example, Hershel’s barn in Season 2 of The Walking Dead, where walkers are corralled in dangerously high numbers out of an optimistic belief that they can be cured. Just as heroic self-sacrifice becomes a recurring theme in Train to Busan, an endless cycle of trust and betrayal is the signature of The Walking Dead, and the show routinely rewards its moral centerpieces -- like Dale and Hershel -- with deaths that are treated not as valiant but as senselessly tragic. 

But let’s get back to my central thesis. What does any of this have to do with COVID-19? 

When South Korea first became aware of the threat of the novel coronavirus, its government immediately launched a response called TRUST:  “Transparency, Robust screening and quarantine, Unique but universally applicable testing, Strict control, and Treatment.” 

The heart of the program was testing, not just of obviously sick people but of those without symptoms or known exposure -- and then carefully tracing the contacts of those found to have a positive result and isolating anyone who was infected. But the price of this widespread testing goes beyond the monetary needs of dveloping and administering tests; it comes too at the cost of certain freedoms. The South Korean government is able to track down and contain its citizens through credit card records, cellphone data, security cameras and other Orwellian security devices that would make most Americans' skin crawl. Add that to a cultural norm of wearing medical masks in public and obeying social distancing as a matter of course (less casual touch and physical contact, greater personal space) and South Korea’s spread of disease has been quite slow. 

Meanwhile, in the USA, people across the country are breaking social distancing rules in order to gather in public and protest the quarantine measures that have left many without jobs and which, some say, infringe upon civil liberties. Mixed messaging about the efficacy of masks, and a long history of masks being associated with crime, have also made it hard to win Americans over to mask-wearing in public -- even though if we could get 100% of people wearing masks, the spread of disease would drop dramatically (and the economy could open sooner). 

Countless political, historical, and socioeconomcic factors are at work differentiating these two nations, and the situation is infinitely more complex than any movie. But I do think viewing the coronavirus through the zombie apocalypse lens helps to make sense of these wildly different responses to the disease. 

Time and again, America’s zombie media has hammered home certain essential lessons: 

When times get hard, you will be called on to step up and take decisive action 

Difficult decisions will need to be made, and the people who are too soft-hearted or cowardly to make those decisions will put others at risk 

The safety of your own family (or found family) is paramount, and any threat to the family must be immediately destroyed 

Survival will be a matter of strength, guns and resources 

Institutions like the military, government and police are useless at best and often corrupt or downright murderous; you can trust only in yourself

Viewed in that context, it’s hardly surprising that the United States response to the pandemic has involved hoarding supplies, buying guns, distrusting scientific authorities, and even staging protests. 

By comparison, the take-home lessons from Train to Busan are quite different: 

No one person is above or more important than anyone else 

If you have power, it is your duty to protect those who are more vulnerable

Selfishness invites trouble 

Self-sacrifice is heroic and sometimes necessary for the greater good 

All of which is not to say that there is no value in the American lessons. There are times when the values of individualism, decisive action, self-sufficiency and suspicion may well be exactly what is needed for survival. 

But during a pandemic of a disease that overwhelmingly affects the already-vulnerable -- the elderly, those with disabilities, those living in poverty -- it seems self-evident that values tied to protecting the weak and working together to protect public safety are the values that will prove most successful. 

At the end of Train to Busan, the survivors of the ordeal is not the strongest, best-prepared, or cleverest of the people on the train. They are young Su-An and  Seong-Kyeong, the film’s most vulnerable characters -- and also its kindest. In an ending reminiscent of Night of the Living Dead, they emerges the sole survivors to face the path of armed military men who at first mistake her for a zombie. But Train to Busan is, for all of its tragedy, a film devoid of cynicism. The soldiers stop just short of shooting when they hear Su-On singing and realize that she’s alive. 

In the end, it is quite literally her humanity that saves her. 

Living in a time of coronavirus means making self-sacrifices, including personal liberty and livelihood. And while none of our sacrifices are likely to be as dramatic as those made by characters in Train to Busan, they are no less heroic or necessary. 

And that is, to me, a lesson worth remembering.  

[mustbethistalltofeel]

The Family You Left Behind - Characters - The Horde

Summary: The Horde, what many called the kids in the foster home of one Ms. Weaver, was a close-knit bunch. Where one went, three others were sure to follow and back them up no matter the circumstances. They all lived with Ms. Weaver for one reason or another; Too different for ‘normal’ families, too difficult for ‘normal’ people to handle, acted out in one way or another. But one thing was true: They were a family, and they would always be there for one another when no one else had been.

(Horde)

Adora (Former) - A protective and allegedly naturally gifted girl who strives to be good at anything she did, demanding perfection no matter what. She also has a temper and resorts to physical violence quickly, though she has changed drastically after adoption.

Catra - A snarky hybrid who doesn’t bother with anyone not in the Horde, and is similar to Adora in many ways, and different in others. Snark and scathing remarks are her go too, but she is not above turning a fight physical.

Scorpia - A gentle giant who’s hybrid nature affects her a lot more than others thanks to her hard carapace, powerful pincers, and venomous tail. Add in her towering height and powerful muscles, it made it easy for many possible families to overlook her innocent and caring nature.

Lonnie - Short-tempered and naturally aggressive person, Lonnie is never one to back down from a fight and is not above playing dirty to get what she wants. She and Adora were known to get into scraps from time to time.

Kyle - A shy, reclusive boy who is always overlooked, and is usually the butt end of many jokes made by the Horde. But he’s never seen without Lonnie or Rogelio no matter where he goes, and his two shadows are quick to jump on anyone who isn’t Horde that tries to insult him.

Rogelio - A quiet reptilian hybrid who prefers to speak his mother language, Spanish, and is another child who was affected by his hybrid nature. Despite his large form and dangerous anatomy, he is never one to start fights and will even attempt to hold his friends back from jumping someone.

Double Trouble (DT) - One of the few kids who aren’t always seen with the other Horde children, they’re natural looks as well as abilities to change their shape caused many to view them in a negative light by nature, to the point they have to wear a ‘collar’ so they are always identifiable no matter the form they take.

[sir-phineas-lost]

She-Ra, The final season

And so it ends, and I have some thoughts about it. Beware of spoilers as usual.

No seriously, I’m gonna spoil the whole endgame. You have been warned.

1) I love how they make good on that interesting new dynamic between Glimmer and Catra they promised at the end of last season. They begin in their usual roles with Glimmer being defiant in the face of evil and Catra trying to work the system to her own benefit but the isolation gets to both of them and they end up bonding in ways they couldn’t on Etheria.

2) Horde Prime is such a great hatable villain. He has this constant theme of invasion going for him. Obviously he invades other planets but he also casually breaches people’s personal space and touches them to show dominance and frequently invades minds and bodies. He really sees himself as perfect and everything else as flawed and useless unless it is as an extension of himself. At the same time, you really get this feeling that he is incomprehensibly old and has been through so much. There is nothing that makes you sympathize with him, but there is this great moment in the second-to-last episode where he does the “I don’t even know who you are” trope to one of the heroes, but rather than being played as a show of arrogance and dismissal it is contemplative. He understands that this hero was an important and dangerous nemesis for him at one point but he is so old and has seen so many heroes stand against him and fail that he just can’t keep track of them anymore.

3)

ENTRAPTA! You are a married woman! Please contain your thirst for robots.

I kid of course. Entrapta remains my favorite character precicely because she is so unapologetically horny for science. I do think it is good that she makes progress in showing how much she cares about people though, even if she still doesn’t “get” them.

Besides, I know my favorite ship is safe because she would never cheat on Hordak.

ENTRAPTA!!!!!! KEEP IT IN YOUR PANTS!

4) Adora has my favorite arc this season. I thought her journey was pretty dull in season 4 but they fixed that and then some this time by deconstructing one of the central themes of the heroic narrative, the sacrifice. I can’t think of a story that so openly criticizes the idea of the heroic sacrifice as necessary and noble. It calls it out as something that ultimately leaves the world and the friends the heroes saved poorer for losing such an important part of their lives. “You are more than what you can do for others” is a powerful message and from what I have seen it seems to resonate well with the LGBQT fanbase who often have to hear that they have to give up their love and happiness.

5) They get Catra’s redemption arc going right away which I think is really good because it lets them spend a lot of time on the really important part, which is the villain interacting with the heroes now that the entire dynamic has changed and they have to deal with the fact that they have hurt people in the past. That being said she is very quickly adopted into the best-friend squad and I love the way everyone finds ways of teasing her.

Sidenote: Catra goes through a lot of different looks this season but I kinda think the short hair with only mildly ruffled strands is the best one.

Yes, I promise.

6) Catra isn’t the only villain who changes for the better because Hordak finally gets with the program. I see a lot of people having trouble with this because “oh he just gets a last-second redemption out of nowhere”, which I disagree with profusely. He doesn’t really get a “redemption” at all. He still changes for the better though, because Hordak’s whole arc isn’t about becoming a better person or fixing the things he broke like Catra’s is. His arc is all about learning to be independent and finally breaking free of his abusive brother/parent/God. Ending up on the side of good is pretty much incidental. And that is ok. Not every villain who changes for the better needs a full on “redemption”

7) I also see a lot of people having problem with Shadow Weaver’s final turn and this one is a lot more understandable, but hear me out. I don’t think Shadow Weaver has ever actually changed all that much since the beginning. People think she is always scheming and manipulating to get more and more power for herself, but I don‘t think that is true. SW is enamored with power, but she has always been about molding it and making people reach their full potential. She really does operate on a twisted kind of parental logic where she thinks she is being helpful, but she is such an awful toxic person that all her “help” only ends up ruining people, as Adora put it. Her sacrificing herself for Adora and Catra to finally reach their peak is perfectly in-character for her, and when she tells Catra that she really is proud of her, she means it, because Catra is finally not standing in Adora’s way. She is a terrible godawful abusive parent right until the end, but it still makes sense that the girls would be sad to see her go. Still, I’m not gonna tell anyone who has a problem with this development that they are wrong.

8) Other than that I think my only criticism is that they really downplayed Hordak’s disability this season. They make reference to his “imperfection” but his chronic pain was a big deal in previous seasons and I wish they hadn’t ignored that so much. Did Prime “fix” Hordak when he reprogrammed him? That sounds like something he would do but still.

9) There is so much drama with all of the side-characters this season and I love it. Spinrella and Netossa became such a compelling couple, but my favorite part has to be where Mermista and Sea-Hawk confirm that they are perfect for each other. She set a boat on fire just to see what was so great about it! That is true love.

10) Honestly, all my ships are sailing. Catradora is the relationship that got me into this series, and not just as a cute ship but the whole friends->enemies->nemesis->lovers journey has been a trip and seeing it resolved in such a powerful scene really caps off the show perfectly. I don’t even care that the plot seems to resolve on the power of love trope. It fits the theme and the characters and that is what truly matters in the end.

Thank you for an AWESOME show Noelle Stevensson, Dreamworks and Netflix.

[buns-with-a-book]

Into the Spardaverse 1 - First Meeting

The first of seven chapters for Into the Spardaverse, where we end up in Limbo City and wish we hadn’t. This takes place after the events of the main game and Vergil’s DLC in said game. 

Fandom: Devil May Cry, DmC (Devil may Cry) Characters: Dante, Reboot Dante, Vergil, Reboot Vergil, OC (what a party). Tags: @nimnox @furyeclipse @harlot-of-oblivion @synchronmurmurs @queenmuzz

Summary: When a portal suddenly opens to another world, Dante, Vergil, and Cassandra are sucked into the world of Limbo City. Separated, they work to reunite, despite the circumstances.

“Come on Dante, let’s clean up this rabble!” Cassandra cried, hand resting on Dante’s shoulder. A playful grin was on her face, staring down the Lusachia demons that were shaking before her. Vergil hummed thoughtfully, ice blue eyes flickering around the battlefield. They were cleaning up some demons in an abandoned warehouse, light streaming in from the broken windows. The Lusachia demons had been causing havoc around the area so they had been called to deal with the demons before they caused more problems. Cassandra glanced at Vergil and Dante followed her gaze. 

“Something’s off.” The elder son of Sparda murmured. 

“What is it, Verge?” Dante asked, rolling his shoulder. Cassandra let go of him, Astra glimmering in her hand. The Lusachia demons let out a roar, a rush of arcane power filling the area. Cassandra looked down.

“RUN!” She yelled, a moment too late. At their feet, a portal yawned open. Cassandra, mid-step, fell into the yawning portal. Vergil unsheathed Yamato, intending to slice the demons where they stood. Dante sprinted forward, only to fall into the very portal they had opened up. He twisted his body, reaching out to his brother before the darkness of the portal overwhelmed his senses. 

“Verge! Cass!” His voice seemed to echo around him as he fell. He heard screaming, the death of the Lusachia demons, before his head hit something hard.

“Shit…” The devil hunter groaned, holding his head. It wasn’t hard enough to knock him out but it was hard enough to still hurt like a bitch. He slowly sat up, looking around. Instead of the warehouse, he was in an alleyway. Well, it certainly wasn’t Red Grave City. The sky looked too...green for that. 

Wait. Green? 

He sat up, quickly getting on his feet. Leaning against the brick wall, he moved to the end of the alleyway to peer around the corner. The sidewalk- no, the entire city -was lifeless. It was almost as if it was abandoned, it’s inhabitants having long fled. Well, it didn’t help that the city was in one hell of a state. For one thing, it stunk like blood and shit, the telltale sign of demonic activity. There was a hint of something else, something he couldn’t quite place. The closest he could think of was sulfur, but worse. 

“So...nobody around here, huh?” He hummed. “Kinda wish I got placed somewhere more...lively.” Not that he had a choice in the matter, portals were weird. Vergil explained it once, something about the Underworld and the Human World not being a one-to-one mirror, some more metaphysics, and something about things being more approximate than specific.  

But then again, it wasn’t Yamato that dragged them here. And even then, they would all still be together. So that made him wonder...what power did the Lusachia demons invoke to make that portal? And where were they? The demonic energy seemed to blanket the place, he couldn’t sense his brother nor Cassandra. Cassandra would stick out like a sore thumb, always followed by a herbal scent. 

Oh no. 

Oh no.

The thought of his adopted sister in danger was what sent him running. Pulling upon Cavaliere, he hopped on the demonic motorcycle and raced down the empty streets. As much as he knew Cassandra could hold her own, they were in a strange-ass city that reeked of demons and was devoid of humanity. He had no idea if Vergil was with her or not and a part of him was hinting that he wasn’t if he himself landed in that alleyway alone. 

Harshly turning around the corner, his eyes met the source of the demonic stench: a small group of metallic looking demons. He could tell they were still demonic, despite the metal that clung to their bodies like armor. He grinned, riding into the demonic horde. He pulled upward, the tire of Cavaliere digging into the body of the demon. It let out a tinny scream as it fell. Dante glanced around before leaping up, dodging the razors they wielded. He landed back on Cavaliere, revving it up to life and swerving into the horde. Their screams echoed in the air as they fell to Cavaliere. 

“How’s that for road rash!” Dante yelled, a wide grin on his face, jumping off Cavaliere. He looked to the side, seeing a demon crawl to an alleyway. He was about to pull out Ebony and Ivory before a pair of gunshots rang out through the air. Dante blinked, looking up. Standing in the alleyway was a young man, a punk with white hair and blue-grey eyes stared at the demonic corpse at his feet. On his back was a thin long sword while his hands held a pair of still smoking pistols. The punk looked up at him, giving him a look that Dante could only presume was judgmental.  

“The fuck are you?” 

“Depends on who’s asking.” Dante grinned. “What’s that sword on your back kid?” 

“This?” The punk looked back at the sword, pulling the pistols away. He pulled the sword forward, giving it a spin. 

“Rebellion.”

“...that...toothpick is named Rebellion?” Dante stared at the long sword. “That’s a nice joke kid.” The punk shot him a glare. Twirling the handle of the long sword, Rebellion turned into a silvery light-blue scythe. 

“How’s that for a toothpick?” 

“Well, that’s certainly impressive.” Dante clapped. “Well, what’s your name, kid?” 

“Dante. And you?” Dante raised an eyebrow. Well, that would certainly make things confusing. 

“Well, what do you know, that’s my name too. Small world.” He said with a lazy smile. The punk (he wouldn’t call him anything else, because he did look like a punk) raised an eyebrow at him suspiciously. 

“Yeah...small world...” He shrugged. “So. What are you doing here?”  

“Oooh...you know…” Dante leaned back, resting on Cavaliere’s seat. “I just dropped in. Mind telling me what’s the name of this town?” 

“Limbo City.” 

“Doesn’t sound lively.”

“Well, most people fucked off after Mundus was slain by yours truly.” He flashed a cocky grin. “Limbo City doesn’t have much left aside from demons.” 

“But you’re sticking around.” 

“Only because I felt something...off.” The punk stepped forward, the cocky grin fading into a more critical gaze. Dante lazily shrugged his shoulders.

“Don’t look at me kid. I just arrived.” 

“Alone?” 

“Well…” Dante hummed. “I diiid have a little sister with me.” The punk raised an eyebrow. “Blonde, dresses in white, wields a rapier.”

“And you call Rebellion a toothpick…” The punk hummed. Dante stood up, Cavaliere disappearing as Devil Sword Dante appeared in his hand. 

“Well, let’s just say I’m used to bigger swords.” He grinned, impaling the sword into the ground. He leaned against it, grinning cockily at the visibly surprised punk. “So, did you see her?” The punk looked down the road. 

“Yeah, I did. But there’s this hot new Demon King who’s throwing his weight around like he owns the place. He took her.” That cocky grin disappeared.

“Well. Shit.” 

---

Cassandra paced around the bedroom, her prison cell. Not moments after she arrived in this world, she had been pounced on by demons. Despite her best attempts, she had been overwhelmed. In the fray, a flying demon grabbed her and took off. She had a good look at the demon, humanoid but with scarlet wings and a porcelain look. It was rather disconcerting but, given that they were high above the ground, she didn’t want to take her chances. The flight had given her a view of where she landed: a city choked by green clouds and the scent of demons, of blood and feces and sulfur but warped by something she couldn’t place. The demon flew towards what looked like a mansion. Cassandra gagged, the demonic aura radiating from it making her feel sick. 

‘By the Earthmother, wherever I am is gross. This isn’t Red Grave City, that’s for certain!’ She thought. The demoness fluttered to the ground, meeting a gatekeeper of sorts. The gatekeeper demon, a creature of metal twisted into a facsimile of angels, opened the gates with a strained creak. The demoness fluttered inside, the gate closing behind her with an equally shrill creak. She flew through the mansion, Cassandra reminded of opulent homes from Red Grave City but the hint of decay told her that not all was well, before being thrown into the bedroom that was her prison cell. 

Which was where she was now, pacing and waiting. She wasn’t dead, which was a good sign, but she was still a prisoner. Suddenly, she felt an immensely strong demonic presence at the door, laced with the feeling of cold. She turned, watching the door open. Her hand trembled, waiting for the moment to summon Astra. Much to her surprise, the door opened to reveal a human man with white hair swept back, dressed in a dark blue overcoat with a rather ornate lining (if the coattail was anything to go by), and blue dress pants. She was reminded of Vergil, if not for those unsettling red eyes. They betrayed the power this man held, the power that made her stay Astra for now. She balled her trembling hand into a fist, to keep her rapier at bay. Now was not the time of fighting, not yet, not while she had no idea where the brothers were or where she was.

“Who are you?” She whispered, keeping her gaze steady on the man before her. “And where am I?”

“You are in no position to make demands.” 

“Forgive me, I was just brought here without any explanation as to why and everything reeks of demons.” She glanced to the window, to the city that lay beyond the glass. She was trying hard to be cordial, tactical, just like Vergil would be doing at this very moment. 

“Very well.” The man said, but Cassandra found that hint of a smile too unnerving to trust. “My name is Vergil.” Cassandra let out a gasp. “And this…” He gestured to the city beyond her window. “Is my kingdom, Limbo City.” 

[365daysoftododeku]

24th September 2019

Author: Mara

________________________________________________________________

Secret Marriage

Some people didn’t get it. Said some people were mostly the journalists who kept on asking who he was married to. Midoriya Izuku—his hero name was Deku—had climbed to the top of the hero rank list in the last decade, currently placing fourth. This had trusted him in the limelight, and generally, he was fine with it. However, people liked to ask really personal questions, like what his relationship status was. Seven years ago, he had been single, six years ago, he was seeing someone and for three years, he was married to said person.

Most people had made peace with the fact that Izuku liked to keep his personal life, well, personal. Some people hadn’t. A journalist had managed to find Izuku’s wedding records, only to find out that they needed some high-level clearance to see who Izuku was married to. Just like that his address was completely hidden from the public.

This tidbit of information made people think he was married to someone ‘normal’, someone who didn’t wake up every day to fight evil. If their identity was known, they might be in danger. Not that those vultures cared. Today was another day of work, he was just on parole, when a flock of journalists showed up out of nowhere, throwing questions at his head.

“What’s your wife’s name?”

“What kind of job does she have?”

“Are you planning on getting children?”

While Izuku was annoyed by the questions and brushed them off with polite ‘no comments’, he couldn’t help but find it amusing. If they only knew how far they were from the truth.

When Izuku wouldn’t give them the time of day, they moved onto his patrol partner. Usually, he would have an intern or a rookie hero joining him on patrol, wanting to offer the younger generation some first-hand experience, but today, pro hero Polarise had joined him. Polarise was ranked second in the hero rank list, only behind Ground Zero—which was Bakugo Katsuki, an old friend of Izuku. Like Izuku, Polarise was married, and like Izuku, his marriage files require a high-level clearance. He was also Todoroki Shouto—Midoriya Shouto nowadays—Izuku’s husband.

“Will you ever considered children?” one of the interviewers asked, pushing her mic underneath Shouto’s nose.

Shouto grunted, looking uncomfortable, “maybe in the future,” he mumbled, trying to side-step the horde of interviewers.

Izuku’s amusement died in seconds. Shouto wanted kids? It was a maybe, not a no. He always had assumed Shouto had no interest in adopting children, which Izuku couldn’t blame him. After his less-than-stellar childhood, raising a kid might be too much for him. And they were busy. Awfully busy. Hero work required a lot of time, and neither of them would want to stop anytime soon. While Izuku was all for adopting children, he did want to be able to spend time raising the child, and not pay a nanny to do all the work.

Realising that the lot had completely surrounded Shouto, and Shouto clearly didn’t know how to get away without tarnishing his reputation by being too rude, Izuku faked a call. After conversing a minute with a non-existing receiver, he made the motion to Shouto that they had to go.

Izuku got them away within a few seconds, using his quirk to launch them to a rooftop, far away from the interviewers that liked to pick apart their entire social life.

“I don’t get how my father stands it, having those people flock around him.”

The thing was, Izuku did get it. He explained it to Shouto as they were walking over rooftops, making sure to keep an eye on their surroundings in case something happened. The difference between Shouto’s father and Shouto was huge. Both the physical difference—Shouto had grown tall and lean, but not all that broad. That was more Izuku, who had remained pretty short but had grown in width and general bulk. But Shouto was also a lot shyer, more awkward with people and, he wasn’t allowed to badmouth people. Their agency had mentioned that it most likely would make his ties with Endeavor (Shouto’s dad) more prominent, as Endeavor wasn’t the kindest hero among the bunch. 

~*~

Of course, the next day, one of the headlines was that pro hero Polarise wanted to have kids with his wife. Izuku’s friend Ochako—who was also a pro-hero—had been caught laughing till she was crying when she saw the headline. Izuku couldn’t blame her, though it had hurt a little. Not the fact that the people seriously did think that Shouto was married to a woman, while he was gay (Izuku was bi—he could’ve married a woman). The kid part hurts a little, as Shouto had never told him. Though, it might have been a spur-of-the-moment thing, when frustration was high and it was a fleeting thought. Maybe the question of ‘what if me and Izuku would have a kid?’ and the idea didn’t seem to displease him.

When they walked into work, Shouto’s manager almost slammed into him in her rush to meet him. Even she didn’t know who Shouto was married to. Only their closest friends knew, and that’s because they had been there are the wedding. And their family. Shouto’s father had been displeased but hadn’t thrown the news in the wide, open world. After all, Shouto had been his pride and joy, despite him marrying someone that couldn’t provide him with biological children. 

“Polarise, you’re getting kids?” she asked, her voice filled with excitement.

Shouto was sweating, his cheeks darkening. Shouto still wasn’t good with people, and Izuku wondered why he had chosen his current manager. She was really excitable and made Shouto feel uncomfortable most of the time. On the other hand, he might need a social butterfly to manage his appointments, events and go-to places.

“I said maybe,” Shouto answered. “I—yes, maybe. In the future.”

Izuku felt his throat close up with emotions. This time it wasn’t a slip-up, it was a deliberate answer.

Izuku noticed that Ochako, who was lounging with another pro-hero at the coffee machine, was shooting glances at the three of them. When Shouto’s ‘maybe’ passed, her eyes grew huge. The other pro-hero, who also was listening, almost choked on his coffee. Izuku was glad he never patrolled with Kaminari Denki—Chargebolt—he would leave that to Shouto.

“Deku,” Shouto’s manager’s attention moved towards him. “When are you getting kids? You’re getting close to thirty, I think.”

Izuku managed to put on his ‘social event’ smile and answered, “We haven’t discussed the options yet.”

This didn’t seem to deter Shouto’s manager’s mood, she refocussed herself on Shouto and started to discuss the work for today, the patrol routes, the places he had to be if he wasn’t called in for back-up.

~*~

For a while, Shouto remained in the spotlight. Wild theories were thrown around, ranging between that Shouto’s wife was actually pregnant to the fact that people thought Shouto was throwing them off their trail. He didn’t have a wife, but a husband. These people weren’t wrong, only their possibilities were a bit… off. Izuku was a little offended that almost every pro-hero or guy Shouto ever spoke to was considered, but him.

It was weekend—well, technically, it was Tuesday, but for Izuku, Tuesday and Wednesday was his weekend. Crime didn’t stop for the actual weekends. Shouto had been called in for work—leaving Izuku all on his own to mope.

Playing with his wedding band—something he rarely wore due to work-related risks—Izuku wondered if this was what marriage was supposed to look like. Shouto loved him, he claimed so, but Izuku also felt that Shouto was hiding something. Or more like, not bothering to address things. He, at least, could’ve have mentioned something about the whole ‘getting a kid’ situation. Not to mention that all the news articles started to make him feel insecure. Nobody thought he was a worthy candidate to have married Shouto—even the headquarters garbage man had a bigger chance with Shouto than Izuku. The garbage man was nice, but he was twice their age and happily married—not that the tabloids ever bothered to look into that.

Twisting the ring around, Izuku decided that he should bring up the subject about children. If Shouto would brush him off, he would at least know that he hadn't been serious. It could be possible that Shouto just didn’t know where to start and would use Izuku’s mention of the subject as a starting point. Izuku hoped for that latter.

The thing was, Izuku was a coward. When Shouto came home, slightly banged up but otherwise fine, Izuku just dragged him to the couch and continued the movie they had paused when Shouto had been called in.

~*~

As a couple, they weren’t sexually active. The time they spent in the bedroom was dedicated to watching television or cuddling. Shouto had made it clear, early into their relationship, he had no desire for intercourse. Izuku had been fine with it. However, that also meant he didn’t see his husband naked an awful lot, especially with the cold winter snapping at their heels. Not to mention that both were workaholics and often fell in bed without even getting changed.

Yet, Izuku had noticed that Shouto had been awfully adamant about keeping his shirt on. Once again, Izuku was a coward and didn’t ask. If Shouto wanted to keep on his shirt then it was fine. He wasn’t going to judge his husband for something as keeping a shirt on all the time, despite that it was a little odd.

Izuku came home late from work. By now, Shouto must be fast asleep, so Izuku made sure to be quiet. Putting his bag with his hero uniform next to the laundry and switching his shoes, Izuku tiptoed into the house. Turned out he didn’t need to be quiet. Shouto was sitting at the dining table, wide awake and filing in some paperwork. Knowing that his husband loathed paperwork, and wasn’t even behind or anything like that, Izuku knew that something was off.

“Shouto are you okay?” Izuku asked.

His husband looked up. He did look tired, which was odd. If Shouto was tired, he would just go to bed. Unless he wanted to speak with Izuku.

Izuku felt sick. Was Shouto going to explain why he had been behaving a little oddly? Was he going to ask for a divorce? Izuku wouldn’t be surprise. Deep down, he wondered how this had happened, the two of them, a thing.

“I’m sorry,” Shouto blurted out.

What a great start. Izuku now really felt ill, wondering if he could actually could get sick from worry. Knowing himself, most likely.

“Remember the incident, a couple of months ago?”

Izuku blinked. That incident? It had been a rescue mission, in which the enemy could absorb fire and was weak against ice. So Shouto had been their main offence man, the rest being support. The idiot had gotten hypothermia, as he hadn’t balanced his temperature. He had been hospitalised for a few days, just to be sure, but he had been fired and had the stamp of approval from the doctor. At least, according to Shouto.

Realising he hadn’t answered Shouto, Izuku nodded.

“I was released, considered healthy. So I went for my regular check-up a few weeks later and,” Shouto looked pained.

Izuku had a bad feeling about this. Usually, when someone went back for a check-up, and they pulled an uncomfortable face when saying the ‘and’, something was off.

“I will have to retire soon.”

This was almost worse than Shouto wanting to ask for a divorce. Shouto loved being a hero. It was like Shouto’s dream career would come to a sudden end while he wasn’t even thirty.

“What do you mean? What’s wrong?”

Shouto got up, and for a few seconds, Izuku thought he had demanded too much. But Shouto just lifted up his shirt, showing off the right side of his ribcage. A thin layer of frost was covering a part of the ribcage.

“The doctor said I would freeze if I use my quirk too much. In the past, it has disappeared almost completely, but when I use too much of my quirk—

Izuku got flashbacks to All Might. It wasn’t exactly the same, but still. Shouto couldn’t use his quirk too much, which meant he couldn’t be a pro-hero anymore. It explained why Shouto had been wearing shirts all the time. Izuku would have panicked if he had seen Shouto’s ribs being covered in frost.

“You aren’t freaking out yet,” Shouto said. He looked a little surprised.

Taking a deep breath, Izuku managed to get his vocal-cords working again, “I shouldn’t be freaking out, you should. You’re losing your dream job.”

He grabbed Shouto’s hands. They fitted together nicely, Shouto’s hands pale against Izuku’s tan.

“I’ve given it some thought,” Shouto answered, squeezing Izuku’s hand. “It sucks, but look at it positively, I won’t have a job. At least not as a pro-hero. I probably will be put on light duty.”

How was that positive? Well, Izuku assumed he would see Shouto more but wouldn’t Shouto get bored? There was no more paperwork, only free time at home. There wasn’t much to occupy yourself with at home either. Their cats didn’t require a lot of attention. Maybe Shouto would pick up cooking, but even then he still had plenty of hours to kill.

Shouto looked nervous, clearly unhappy of having to carry the conversation, “I hadn’t lied, when I was telling people I was considering kids. I’m good to go for a few more years on light duty, if not longer. And maybe, in a couple of years, I’m ready—as far as I can be ready for kids because they frighten me.”

Izuku’s heart leapt in surprise. He never had hidden the fact he liked kids but never had pushed for it. Shouto had picked up Izuku’s desire, and took an otherwise horrible situation and made it a little bit better.

“In a couple of years,” Shouto repeated. Izuku realised he was grinning broadly, looking happier then he should be.

“If you don’t want kids in a couple of years, it’s fine.” Izuku felt the unease of the last few weeks melt away. “Having kids is a mutual commitment. And with your retirement, work won’t be as much fun. Maybe I will follow your example in a couple of years.”

Suddenly, Shouto groaned, “the vultures will have a field day,” he muttered. “Now they will really think my wife is pregnant with a child.”

“Let them. Clearly, the media has no idea what kind of people we are.”

Shouto raised an eyebrow in confusion.

“Our garbage man seems more likely to be your husband than me.”

Izuku’s husband was a little shit and just laughed. No words of comfort, no reassurance, just laughter. He married a complete arse (he didn’t).

________________________________________________________________

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[kumeko]

Title: umeboshi

A/N: For @pinkthespianlesbian, for the Fruits Basket SS held by @lgbtfurubanet. I don’t think I managed to fit all of your prompts together (and Momiji realizes she’s trans in this fic a bit earlier than your headcanon because I missed that line about 3rd year. XD), but I hope you enjoy this anyways!

…

…

…

…

i.

 “It’s a romantic story,” Momiji chirped, leaning back on the school steps. It was a cloudless, warm spring day and she was happy they were finally in their summer uniforms. Kicking her feet in front of her, Momiji leaned back and stared at the bright blue sky. “My parents met in Germany, when they were students.”

 “Oh.” Tohru clapped her hands excitedly. On another person, this would seem sarcastic, but every action she did was always painfully earnest. Her eyes were bright as she leaned eagerly toward Momiji, already knowing how the story will go and still wanting to hear about it. “Was it love at first sight?”

 “Da!” Tohru was infectious and Momiji’s smile grew even wider. She leaned closer to Tohru, until their shoulders bumped. There was something thrilling about being this close to Tohru, about this casual nearness that she could have that almost none of the other zodiacs could have. She felt a brief pang of pity for Kyo and Yuki.

“Oooohhh!” Tohru’s hand pressed against the steps as she steadied herself, her hand overlapping Momiji’s slightly.

 A jolt of electricity ran through Momiji and she swallowed. It was a very brief pang of pity for her rivals. As they said, all’s fair in love and war. Gathering herself, Momiji continued, using the story as an excuse to hold Tohru’s hand entirely. “The second their hands touched, writing appeared on their arms like vines! They were soulmates! They didn’t let go of each other once, not even when they ate.”

 Tohru stared at their clasped hands and squealed. “Awww, that’s so cute!”

 Momiji would practically see the hearts flying off her. She nodded sagely. “It gets better! They used the words as their wedding vows.”

 “Awwwwwww.” Tohru hummed, almost bouncing as she thought about it all. She didn’t let go, her hand radiating warmth that shot straight to Momiji’s core. “That’s such a cute story. Mom never found her soulmate but she and Dad were very happy anyways. Actually, right after they got married, Mom dragged Dad to the tattoo parlor and forced him to tattoo her name on his wrist.” She chuckled. “They got their own versions of the soulmate words.”

 “Really?” Momiji blinked. She liked that idea. Liked it a lot. The control it gave, the ability to chose, she liked everything about it. Breaking into laughter, she reached around with her other arm and hugged Tohru, careful not to let go of their clasped hands. “That sounds just like her.”

 “That’s what Uo-chan and Hana-chan said too,” Tohru said proudly, wrapping an arm around Momiji. “Though Mom told me the tattoos hurt more than expected and they both spent the week crying.”

 Momiji snorted. “Somehow, that also sounds like her.”

    ii.

A less romantic story, one that Momiji was reluctant to tell Tohru, was how her mother rejected her at a hug. How her mother had gone mad until the only solution was erasing her memories and erasing Momiji’s place in them.

 It was funny, now, that her mother’s touch would no longer transform her. That it was her father instead who turned her into a rabbit. Would her mother have kept her memories if she’d known this would happen? Or would she have seen that as another failure, another mark against her monster of a child?

 Not that it mattered either way. Her mother would never know. Instead, Momiji would wear her dresses and pad her chest and grow out her hair, each change making her look more and more like her mother. It was hard to hide it now; her father wouldn’t let her hang out at the company anymore.

 All that she had left was her name, Momiji, the only link to a family that no longer existed. Maybe she should change. She wasn’t sure she wanted to.

    iii.

The school was brimming with life, the school fair bringing students and visitors through each of the classrooms and hallways. It was a dangerous time for a Sohma and Kyo was already hiding on the roof, both scared and angry with the horde that invaded his home. Not that it helped much, considering the mob of cats that swarmed the roof, catching everyone’s eyes.

 At least that made things a little easier for the others. Yuki didn’t have to hide in the back of every classroom even and Haru didn’t have to destroy everyone he bumped shoulders with and Momiji…

 Well, Momiji got to enjoy a date with Tohru. A kinda one-sided date, for now, but a date nonetheless. She bounced forward as she and Tohru strolled through the halls, taking in the other class’s events. “What do you want to see first?”

 “I don’t know.” Tohru smiled happily, her eyes jumping from one door to the next. There was a haunted house, a café, an art gallery—the possibilities were endless. And overwhelming. “They all look so fun! What do you want to do?”

 “Me?” Momiji slowed down her pace till she was walking side by side with Tohru. Her arms hung at her side, her hands barely brushing Tohru’s as they walked. A jolt of electricity ran through her at each touch and she swallowed. “Maybe we could do the haunted house first?”

 “T-t-the h-h-haunted h-h-house?” Tohru stuttered, her expression freezing. Stiffly, she squared her shoulders and marched toward it. “S-s-sure.”

 It was cute. Too cute. Momiji tried not to laugh too much and offered, “If you’re too scared, we can do something else.”

 “N-n-no, I’m f-f-f-fine.” Tohru smiled once more but it came out more a grimace than anything else. She looked like a robot as she moved, her knees and elbows locked into position. “L-let’s g-go.”

 Well, if Tohru was going to be so brave, Momiji couldn’t slack off either. Nodding, she reached out and grabbed Tohru’s hand. No more of that brushing nonsense. Her skin felt like it was on fire and Momiji was certain her ears were turning several different shades of red, but she’d done it.

 She’d grabbed Tohru’s hand. And if Tohru didn’t pull away, was still smiling at her brightly, she could take that as a victory, right?

    iv.

 Momiji washed her hands, letting the cool water soak into her skin. They still burned, even now, hours after Tohru let go, hours after they’d parted.

 Ok, it was about time she’d admitted it. To herself, at least, if to no one else.

 This wasn’t just a crush anymore. No, this was love. Momiji was in love with Tohru.

 She sighed softly, leaning forward to rest her forehead on the bathroom mirror. After all those months of teasing Yuki and Kyo for being dense, this all felt highly ironic. Momiji wasn’t even sure if she was going to confess to Tohru (sorry for calling you a coward, Kyo) and even worse, there was Akito to deal with.

 Maybe Akito wouldn’t care as much. He’d hated it when Momiji had started transitioning but then it’d became a new cage for him to keep her in, a new barrage of insults to hurt her with. Suddenly, she’d realized just how much harder it was for Kisa and Rin.

 How much harder it would be for her, going forward.

 The cool glass didn’t make it any easier to think and Momiji’s hands were still burning like they’d been seared. Like Tohru was imprinted on them. Maybe she was. Lifting her hands, she stared at them blankly, taking in the small ridges on her knuckles, and the growing thickness of her fingers. The lines on her palm that turned into words, wrapping around her wrist—

 Words.

 Momiji blinked. There were words tattooed on her wrist. Her soulmate marks. She rolled back her sleeves frantically, trying to read the characters engraved on her skin. How had she missed this earlier? Had she bumped into someone at the fair? U-m-e-b-o-s-h-I, it said.

 Umeboshi.

  There was only one person that could mean, only one person whose soulmate words could be that.

“Tohru,” she murmured to her skin, kissing the mark softly. Momiji’s heart leapt to her mouth and she felt a tear slide down her cheek. Her soulmate was Tohru.

 She could fight Akito, if it was for Tohru.

 She could fight anyone, if it was Tohru.

 They were soulmates and Momiji would one day tell their adopted kids, It was a romantic story, a story about two people who stayed together and never forgot anything, even the bad things.

    v.

Or it would have been a romantic tale, if not for Tohru’s extremely puzzled look as Momiji asked her if she’d gotten her soulmate writing. She’d waited as long as she could, waited for class to end, for her bodyguards to go home (Kyo was harder to force away than Yuki), waited for them to finally be alone and sitting at their usual spot on the school step, before asking.

 All in vain, it seemed.

 “My soulmate marks?” Tohru blinked, confused. She glanced around as though to make sure no one else was around. “Me?”

 She’d almost forgotten how dense Tohru was. “Yes.” Momiji nodded eagerly, taking Tohru’s hands into her own. Rubbing her thumb against Tohru’s wrists, she was slightly disappointed the marks hadn’t appeared in the same place, but that was fine. It was rare enough to find one’s soulmate, let alone to find one with an identical mark. Her parents had been lucky. Quieting her mind, Momiji peered up at Tohru’s eyes and asked again, “Have you found any words on you?”

 Tohru frowned, thinking heavily on it. She twisted her lips, her expression growing sterner and sterner with each moment that passed. The moment she turned into a hardboiled detective, she sighed and shook her head. “Not one.”

 “Really?” Momiji’s heart plummeted to her shoes and she almost dropped Tohru’s hands in surprise. Was it possible to have a one-sided soulmate?

 “Yes.” Tohru nodded solemnly. “It would be wonderful to have a soulmate but I’m not sure I have one.” She chuckled sadly. “It might be too wonderful for me to have.”

 And maybe Tohru didn’t have the mark and maybe the umeboshi meant some other kind do-gooder or some guy with an obsession with pickles, but that didn’t matter. Momiji was used to life not going her way. Was used to having to choose her own path.

 Kyoko had made her own soulmate.

 Momiji could do the same.

 “You have a soulmate, Tohru,” Momiji answered softly, leaning closer.

 “I do?” Tohru’s eyes widened in surprise. “Who?”

 “Me.”

 She’d make sure to not tell their kids how awkward their first kiss was, how they’d bumped noses and laughed about it after.

    vi.

“And that’s how your grandmas fell in love,” Mitsuru murmured, ruffling the hair of her son. “It’s a romantic story, isn’t it?”

 Aki bit his cheek, taking it all in. He swayed side to side as he came up with his question. Because there was always a question with him; at four, there was still too many things he didn’t know. Mitsuru knew that, knew that she’d done the same to Momiji and Torhu when she was little, but that didn’t make it any easier.

 After a few minutes, he finally asked, “Granny didn’t have a mark?”

 “Actually…” Mitsuru laughed awkwardly. Leaning closer, she stage-whispered to her son, “It turned out, Grandma Tohru did have a mark.”

 “She did?” His mouth fell open in surprise.

 “Her face looked just like yours when she found out.” Mitsuru nodded. Reaching around, she patted her son on the middle of his back. “Right there. Just where the umeboshi in a onigiri is, that was where her mark was. So of course she didn’t see it herself—Grandma Momiji was the one who spotted it and told her.”

 “Umeboshi?” Aki jumped up and down. “Just like in her stories!”

 Mitsuru nodded. “Yeah, just like in her stories.”

 There was something fitting about that, when all was said and done.

[bowan-deflorentine]

Extremely detailed character sheet template

Character’s full name: Bowan deFlorentine

Reason or meaning of name: OOC I like gender-neutral or masc-leaning names for all characters, and thought it sounded cool at the time! I just took “Bowen” and added an “a” to make it slightly more feminine, visually.

Character’s nickname: “Bo”

Reason for nickname: It’s short and cute!

Birth date: January 23rd (the day she hit lvl 10 in-game :P I use that for all my Wow RP characters)

Physical appearance

Age: 37

How old do they appear: About the same

Weight: 145lb / 65kg, an average healthy weight if on the lighter side

Height: 5′11″ / 180cm, taller than average for cis women

Body build: Angular, long-legged, lean

Shape of face: Oval-shaped, with sharp cheekbones and a strong jawline and strong chin

Eye color: Dark brown

Glasses or contacts: neither

Skin tone: Medium brown

Distinguishing marks: Broken nose, blind & scarred right eye

Predominant features: Probably the nasty dead eye

Hair color: Black

Type of hair: Thick and wavy

Hairstyle: Wears it long and down, or in a low ponytail tied with a ribbon

Voice: Low & rich with a heavy Gilnean lowborn accent

Overall attractiveness: Super subjective, but she’s got that handsome aging roughed-up scoundrel sailor look if you’re into that  ¯\_(ツ)_/¯  

Physical disabilities: Blind on her right side

Usual fashion of dress: Heavy leather or canvas coats, high collars, heeled, thigh-high leather boots, wide-brimmed hats with feathers in the band, loose long-sleeved blouses tucked into a high waistline, fencer's gloves

Favorite outfit: TBH probably her old Cavalier uniform and coat; a dark- and steel-blue laced-up vest, leather, with gold and brown trimmings and a wide-brimmed hat with a white feather in it. Single blue leather pauldron with the gold Cavalier star on it

Jewelry or accessories: Very little, usually one or two small hoop earrings. A golden wedding ring on a chain necklace under her shirt. No rings or bracelets

Personality

Good personality traits: Motherly, caring, charming, helpful, protective, curious

Bad personality traits: Moody, impulsive, stubborn, reckless, anxious, violent

Mood character is most often in: Current day, bitter and melancholic

Sense of humor: Inside jokes, straight-faced funny comments, good-natured teasing.

Character’s greatest joy in life: Her seven-year-old son, Rory.

Character’s greatest fear: Losing either Rory or Jeán, her husband.

Why?: Because she loves them, and they’re the only family she has left in the entire world, and she’s lost/ given up everything else in her life to protect them and to make a life for her family.

What single event would most throw this character’s life into complete turmoil?: She’s numb to everything that’s not extreme at this point, so again, losing either Rory or Jeán

Character is most at ease when: When her family is not only happy but safe, as are her close friends, and she’s at home somewhere warm and dry and comfortable and there's no war going on

Most ill at ease when: Someone she loves is missing, or hurt, or in great danger, or when she doesn't know where she is / is lost

Enraged when: Something threatens the safety of her loved ones or children

Depressed or sad when: When she’s isolated away from people she loves.

Priorities: She’s been forced into survival mode lately, so #1 is her family’s and her own safety. Beyond that, her son’s happiness, her husband’s happiness, her friends’ happiness, and then protecting others. She's happy when others are happy.

Life philosophy: There’s some good left in the world, and it’s worth fighting for. But family always comes first.

If granted one wish, it would be: To bring Timira Redsummer back

Why?: She was her closest friend and now she’s dead, and she’s tired of losing people and having no control over all the loss in her life.

Character’s soft spot: Children, and music

Is this soft spot obvious to others?: OH absolutely, she’s SUCH a mom. Her rough grimdark rogue sailor deal just vanishes around kids and she’s making funny faces and listening very intently to their babytalk stories and crouching all the way down so they can take her hand and lead her around to show her interesting things, etc. The usual supercute little kid stuff. She loves children and is very good with them.

Greatest strength: Never ever giving up when it comes to protecting others, accomplishing her goals at any means necessary, even at the cost of her own safety or health (which crosses very quickly into one of her greatest weaknesses)

Greatest vulnerability or weakness: She can be on the self-destructive side, and is easily goaded into fights against her better judgement because she can just not back down from a threat or a challenge.

Biggest regret: Leaving Teldrassil during the War of Thorns before the attack, when it was just citizens and adventurers and soldiers helping to evacuate / fortify / bring supplies to the city, as they were expecting a siege. She left to go get her ship in Stormwind and bring it as a back-up to get escaping citizens out in case they needed to evacuate. She sailed back to a completely burning tree.

Minor regret: Not having a wedding with Jeán. They had been together for a few years and had talked about getting married, but were too busy with work. They got hastily married on paper before she left for Kul Tiras.

Biggest accomplishment: Founding the Stormwind Cavaliers with Jeán, and the few years she spent as the captain for them. They did a lot of good work for the city and for the people, especially in the surrounding territories like Elwynn, Westfall, and Duskwood. 

Minor accomplishment: She can make the meanest cup of Gilnean black lavender tea

Past failures they would be embarrassed to have people know about: Actively sheltering a rogue Uncrowned agent and trying to cover up all the VERY obvious murders they kept committing under her watch while working for the city guard, oops   ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

Why?: Because at the time, they were very close friends and she didn’t have the guts to make the tough calls.

Character’s darkest secret: As of now in the storyline, currently, hunting and sinking Horde ships out of revenge for Teldrassil. She hasn’t told a soul and uses an alias with the crew she works with.

Does anyone else know?: Not yet! 

Goals

Drives and motivations: She wants vengeance for all the lives lost in Teldrassil, but the root of it comes from wanting to protect her family and friends and loved ones. Second only to those feelings is her desire for freedom, and sees sailing and going rogue as an opportunity to kill three birds with one stone.

Immediate goals: Sink Horde ships.

Long term goals: Building a better world for her son and her friends’ children.

How the character plans to accomplish these goals: Gathering a crew of other disgruntled Alliance soldiers and hunting down as many Horde ships and soldiers as they can before they get caught and probably executed.

How other characters will be affected:  😬 Well Jeán was a pirate and gave up everything to live his life with Bowan, and to find she’s been doing basically piracy behind his back would be a big oof. Plus before it all she was a very proud soldier of the Alliance and strove to better herself and to be a good and kind person, so it would probably be very disturbing news to others. Then again, that’s only if they find out.

Past

Hometown: Keel Harbor, Gilneas. 

Type of childhood: Strict-ish. Father was a sailor, mother was a wealthy merchant’s adopted daughter. Her father tried to teach her freedom and passion, her mother tried to teach her obedience and to be ladylike. Mother ultimately won and she was more or less prepared for marriage into her teen years until she ran away to escape the pressure.

Pets: A hound dog named Jager.

First memory: Meeting her maternal grandmother for the first- and last time. She was a harvest witch and disappeared to escape witch hunts. 

Most important childhood memory: Sailing with her father outside the harbor for the first time. It was a dangerous trip and they nearly capsized, but she loved every second of it. 

Why: While Bowan and her mother Louise loved eachother, they weren’t as close as she and her father, Bayne. Her father always encouraged her to be herself and to blaze her own path, and her mother told her that she would never find a husband acting like that. Really experiencing sailing and the sea made her realize that that was quite all right, because if being a good wife meant giving up exciting things like sailing then the choice was obvious for her. 

Childhood hero: Genn Greymane

Dream job: Professional bard! She *almost* achieved that after running away from home in Gilneas but never could quite make it happen.

Education: Homeschooling and a few years of attending a little bitty schoolhouse in the countryside. 

Religion: The lowkey Light worship Gilneas practiced, and some of the Old Ways.

Finances: Not poor, but her father had to work very hard to support them and tried not to let it show. 

Present

Current location: Kul Tiras

Currently living with: No one she’s close to, a crew of other soldiers unhappy with the way the war with the Horde was handled.

Pets: Ardis, her beautiful black mare, is stabled in Stormwind.

Religion: Same as her childhood, a bit of Old Ways and a bit of Light.

Occupation: Unofficially ex-Alliance soldier and guard, pirate

Finances: Actually doing pretty well from herself considering all the ships she’s robbed! :D 

Family

Mother: Louise Ollington

Relationship with her: Strained, but they were family at the end of the day. She was born into a family of harvest witches who were culled by some backwoods witch hunts. She was dropped off in Gilneas city and adopted by wealthy bookkeeping nobles. The entire experience still left her very unhappy and traumatized, so she clung very tightly to her new life and tried to make sure her daughter would be safe and not face the same challenges as she did when she went against tradition. 

Father: Bayne Arrow

Relationship with him: Very close. A sailor from Tanaris, he tried to make as comfortable of a life for Louise but could never really live up to her expectations. They still loved each other very much, and he adored his daughter and tried to instill in her the same love of adventure and the sea as his family had. Ultimately his teachings won over, but it cost the family a lot.

Siblings: None.

Relationship with them: n/a

Spouse: Jeán deFlorentine.

Relationship with them: Jeán were best friends long before the relationship became romantic. They’re perfect for eachother, both cocky swaggering rogues who love duel banter and sailing and getting into trouble. They had all sorts of wild adventures and hit rock bottom and bounced back together, and they bonded hard and fast. They never really bothered with marriage before because they didn’t feel like their relationship needed it, but they got married on paper before Bowan left for the war in Kul Tiras just so they didn’t leave any regrets in case she didn’t come back.

Children: Rory, her son. 

Relationship with them: He’s a bastard, but she doesn’t like to talk about it or his father. She loves him more than anything and is doing her best to raise him to be a good person. He’s a very gentle and sweet boy.  

Other important family members: None.

Favorites

Color: Dark grey-teal, the color of the sea during a storm. 

Least favorite color: Pink, only because it’s just very much not her color. 

Music: Fiddle and hurdy-gurdy.

Food: Pandaren cuisine, especially dumplings and spring rolls.

Literature: Romance, and inspiring heroic adventure novels. 

Form of entertainment: Music! She loves to sing and play her own instruments or listen to others perform. 

Mode of transportation: Her ship, a former Stormwind sloop with black sails. 

Most prized possession: Her Cavalier rapier, a gift from Jeán when the unit was founded. 

Habits

Hobbies: She used to practice minor medicinal alchemy when she was young. She likes to read and write for fun too, and riding her horse on the trails around Stormwind city when she still lived there.

Plays a musical instrument?: Yes! Mandolin and guitar. She’s a little rusty but she’s talented. 

Plays a sport?: Fencing! 

How they would spend a rainy day: Brewing tea and reading by the fireplace, either alone or to her son. OR sailing.

Smokes: Yes, occasionally.

Drinks: Too much these days, before also occasionally. 

Other drugs: None

What do they do too much of?: OVERTHINK

What do they do too little of?: Taking a goddamn breath and thinking things through before jumping into dangerous situations.

Extremely skilled at: Sailing. 

Extremely unskilled at: Cooking.

Nervous tics: Bouncing knee, cracking knuckles, drumming fingers 

Usual body posture: Confident but closed-off. 

Mannerisms: Lively even in poor moods, lots of expressive gestures and hand motions

Peculiarities: She seems fidgety and checks over her shoulder too much until she gets her back to a wall. She always goes for the wall seat and likes to face the door. 

Traits

Optimist or pessimist?: Tries to be an optimist but her natural state is pessimist. It’s just been beat out of her.

Introvert or extrovert?: Ambivert, she’s a social butterfly in good moods but gets moody fast and retreats to be alone often. 

Daredevil or cautious?: Some sort of unstable mix of both, anxious a lot and overthinks danger but then does stupid recklessly brave things like, for example, challenge old and terrifying pirate captains to duels she has ZERO hope of winnings (this has happened like three times now??)

Logical or emotional?: Emotional. She’s not controlled by her emotions but they are powerful. Listening to her heart and her gut keeps her alive.

Disorderly and messy or methodical and neat?: Surprisingly organized and neat. When she had her own desk at the Cavalier office it was fancy and extremely well-kept. 

Prefers working or relaxing?: Prefers working. She’s a bit of a workaholic, and doesn’t like to sit still for too long.

Confident or unsure of themself: Fairly confident these days.

Animal lover?: Yes, but not to the point to keep pets.

Self-perception

How they feel about themself: Her confidence isn’t low, but currently she’s felt helpless about her life and her path and is doing whatever she can to feel like she has some control. She knows some of the things she’s doing is wrong but feels like she has to make the hard calls for once and do the dirty work no one else is willing to do. 

One word the character would use to describe self: Ambitious.

What does the character consider their best personality trait?: Her dedication to her family. 

What does the character consider their worst personality trait?: Her inability to let go of the past. 

What does the character consider their best physical characteristic?: She loves her hair and takes pride in keeping it long and brushed and clean.

What does the character consider his/her worst physical characteristic?: Her broken nose that was never set right and healed crooked, and now her scarred eye. She thinks it’s ugly and will frighten children. 

How does the character think others perceive him/her: Hopefully, as someone they can trust and will be there for them when they need her, always.

What would the character most like to change about themself: Her paranoia and her anxiety. She’s been horribly wounded by the past and wants so badly to heal from it but she just can’t find the right way to do it yet. 

Relationships with others

Opinion of other people in general: Bowan has a low opinion of people as a whole, and views people in general as something to defend herself against, but believes in the good of individuals. 

Does the character hide their true opinions and emotions from others?: Sometimes. She’s the sort to hide her minor feelings from others to save their own feelings, and isn’t above lying to loved ones if she thinks it will protect them.

Person character most hates: Sylvanas Windrunner (now that Deathbreathe is dead). She wants her dead SO BAD.

Best friend(s): Timira Redsummer, Jeán deFlorentine, Watcher and Seeker, Reiko Al-Tariq.

Love interest(s): Jeán deFlorentine

Person character goes to for advice: Timira

Person character feels responsible for or takes care of: Watcher and Seeker, the Twins. They used to be in a spy unit together but they’re a lot younger than she is and just wants them to be safe. All of the Cavaliers, too, present and former.

Person character feels shy or awkward around: No one, she’s over those feelings.

Person character openly admires: Lorna Crowley

Person character secretly admires: Princess Tess Greymane (secret due to her work for the Uncrowned).

Most important person in character’s life before story starts: Her father

After story starts: Rory, her son

found here

(( Okay I know this is a monster so I won’t tag anyone but please feel free to fill this out, it’s so fun and makes you really think about the details!! ))