#mumarou month

[batneko]

a little mumarou role swap AU!

[agaroueveryday]

Day 16: Clothes swap!

Day 17: First kiss

Day 18: Something sad

Day 19: Gaming together

[unfortunatelycake]

Chapters: 8/9

Rating: Teen And Up Audiences

Relationships: Garou/Mumen Rider | License-less Rider

Summary: An open air movie at night, and there's couples everywhere-- but the distance between Garou and Mumen only grows wider.

Notes: Mumarou month prompts:  25. Stargazing, 27. Romantic movie kiss, 28. Death

[rayadraws]

Hey Mumarou Wall-E AU anon, this one’s for you 👀

[sunflower-fish]

I'm sick, so what better way to deal with the flu than to write a fic.

Thanks to @batneko for starting Mumarou month I know this probably isn't one of the themes, but here's my contribution that's most likely late (like always) and most likely not one of the themes (like always) but here.

The flu had been going around, Mumen knew about it, and despite taking the right precautions not to get it, he got it.

He still had hero work to do though, so after taking some cold medicine and chugging a cup of coffee to fight off I sleepy effects, grabbing a facial mask, and then getting dressed in his hero uniform, he went out for his daily patrol, hoping to god that no monsters would attack.

Oh god he could only hope.

He was on his way home when a monster appeared, the monster sneezing on to civilians. Mumen knew he shouldn't fight while sick, but like any good hero, he would ignore his own health to protect others.

Mumen sped over to the monster, skidding to a stop when the monster aimed a sneeze at him, the hero turning his face away.

It never came.

The hero looked up when he heard a very high pitched sneeze, seeing a familiar golden eyed, blonde man.

"You're sick!" Mumen exclaimed, quickly nabbing one of the tissues he had, handing it over to Garou, who took said tissue.

"That things been sneezing on everyone," Garou sneezed again. "It's why that fuckin flu has been going around," Mumen handed him another tissue.

"Well, hopefully it'll die out now, right?" Garou looked over at him, and oh god he was really sick, he looked like he'd been sick for a few days.

"Ugh, hopefully," Mumen hopped off his bike, Garou raising a brow at him.

"You look like you need some medicine. I've got plenty at home for us both,"

"You got sick too?" Mumen nodded. "And here I thought the association called you to deal with this guy," Mumen gave a light chuckle.

"No. I was actually on my way home. Was going to make tea and soup," Garou hummed. "C'mon. I'll make you some as well," the blonde hesitated, but followed Mumen back to his place.

Mumen hummed, a cough drop in his throat as he cooked up some home made soup, an old family recipe. Garou was best him, one of Mumen's spare blankets over his shoulders as he sipped tea.

"So how long have you been going on sick?" Mumen finally asked.

"A few hours," Garou replied.

"A few hours? Looks like you've been sick for days!"

"Well that bastard did sneeze on me a fuckton of times when we fought,"

"Really?!" Garou merely hummed as he took another sip from his cup. "What exactly happened?"

"Me and the kid were walking around. His mom was working and he wanted to see something,"

"Tareo?" Garou nodded.

"I've been staying with them for the past few months,"

"Oh?"

"Yeah, he found me after the fight with Saitama. Took me to his home, and his mom patched me up. She decided I should stay with them as long as I stopped hero hunting,"

"That was sweet of her," Garou nodded. "Where is Tareo then?"

"Sent him home," Mumen hummed, going back to the soup. "He's probably worried,"

"You can borrow my phone if you'd like," Garou waved him off.

"I've got my own," He told, digging through his pockets and bringing out a flip phone, dialing a number. "Hey....I'm fine. Just at Mumen Riders," Mumen could've sworn he heard a kids voice say 'can you get an autograph?' Garou chuckled lightly. "Maybe....I don't know.... If I'm not back in an hour, then I guess make something up. Should be leftovers in the fridge," Mumen grabbed two bowls from the clean dishes, filling one up with some soup and sliding it over to Garou, soon filling one up for himself. "Alright. Well be good. I'll see you when i get back," and with that Garou hung up and joined Mumen to the dining room table.

Garou couldn't help but look around, surprised that Mumen didn't have a big apartment like the rest of the heroes. Instead, it was cozy, a co-joined dining room and living room, a decent sized kitchen and one bedroom with a small bathroom.

"So what have you been doing lately?" Mumen asked.

"Working at a small family restaurant," Garou answered, looking over to see the smile on Mumen's face.

"That's good!"

Once they finished Garou helped clean up, Mumen nodding his thanks, Garou waving the thanks away. After that they sat drinking the rest of the tea they had. In a few hours Garou sighed.

"I should be getting back by now. Thanks for the food and drink and help," Garou folded up the blanket and handed it to Mumen, who placed it on the couch.

"Anytime!" He smiled.

Even sick the hero was jolly.

"Oh! Let me walk you home," He added, hurrying to put on his shoes and coat, also grabbing a bag and placing some boxes of cold medicine inside. "And here,"

"You...you don't have to!" Garou replied, being handed the bag.

"It's fine! Really!" Garou sighed, and accepted the bag.

"Thanks,"

"This is me," Garou told, stopping at a door. "Uh. Thanks. Again,"

"No problem!" Mumen smiled. Garou nodded, going to open the door when it swung open and an excited kid imediately hugging him.

"Oji-san you're home!" The kid greeted, Garou able to detach him. "Oh! Hello!" Mumen smiled.

"Hello, you must be Tareo?" Tareo nodded, eyes shining. "It's nice to meet you,"

"It's nice to meet you too! Can you sign my hero catalog?" Mumen nodded, watching as Tareo ran inside. He looked over at Garou who rolled his eyes with a smile. A smile that decided everything for Mumen, so the hero gave a quick peck to his cheek, imediately seeing golden eyes widen in surprise.

"Uh-"

"You should visit. When were both better," Garou merely nodded, the two looking over as Tareo's quick pat's returned, the boy holding up the newest issue for Mumen to sign, who gave his thanks and hurried back inside.

Garou hesitated for a few before returning the peck to Mumen, whispering a 'thank you' in his ear and heading inside.

When Mumen was halfway home, he realised he forgot to ask for Garou's number, but he was sure he would see him again.

[everydaymumen]

Day 110 - Mumarou Month (Merfolk)

Mumen is a marlin and Garou is an eel

[konbani]

It was mumarou month a while back and @anonymousedward gave me the amazing prompt of Mayu giving Garou the shovel talk dghdgjdj

Better do as she says, Garou

she know’s people

[mumarou]

Happy Mumarou Month!

Unfortunately I timed a vacation really badly so I don’t have anything to post. But I’ll be reblogging (eventually)!

[eldinkind]

For @batneko‘s Mumarou Month

Day 6: Tradition They are both wearing montsuki (Men’s wedding Kimono), and Garou is eagerly carrying his new husband over the threshold (๑ˊ͈ ॢꇴ ˋ͈)〜♡॰ॱ

[nightfoliage]

2019 Ao3 Stats

I thought it would be interesting to do an ao3 stat check of my fics. So this year I posted 8 different fics (9 if you include the fic with another version). 

Here are the stats over all years:

The top one doesn’t surprise me, In My Corner is one of my popular older fics that I posted a few years back (Aug 2015) and is a multi-chapter fic. The others are a bit of a surprise though, The More Things Change is more recent fic (Dec 2017), but I suppose since it’s part of a big fandom, DC, then it makes sense. 

But what’s surprising is the fact is Heartsong, Moonlight Drive, and Say My Name are all fics I posted this year (March, Jun/Jul, and Oct respectively). And the only one I didn’t post all at once is Heartsong and I finished posting that one within one month. I guess the DCMK (and KaiShin) community is still going on strong. 

-----

Based on the hits, it seems like no surprise that the top five for kudos are the same. 

-----

So it is interesting that only 3 of the five fics mentioned above have the top comment threads. I should note that besides The More Thing Change, all of these fics are multi-chapter fics that were posted over time. (Happiness in Different Forms isn’t finished yet, either.) So definitely posting things over time gets you more comments OR posting to a popular fandom (like The More Things Change is for DC fandom). 

But again, Heartsong is surprising because I just recently posted it this year. (I have a theory though it’s because, one, it’s part one of a series, and two, it’s pre-relationship. I got some interesting comments for this fic.)

-----

Here are my stats for 2019 only:

These make sense. I wrote a lot of DCMK fics (the top four) and Double the Fun, But Trouble to Come is the first fic I posted for 2019. 

-----

The kudos makes sense, too. 

-----

The comment threads is interesting though! Especially the fact that All Those Years is the fic that has the second most comments. This fic was written for the One Punch Man fandom, Mumarou pairing. It actually has less than 10% of the hits for Heartsong and less than 30% of the hits of Double the Fun, But Trouble to Come, yet has some of the most comment threads of all my fics for this year. The fandom really does make a big impact for interaction with others. 

What should also be noted is that I posted Heartsong and Sunny Dates and Starry Heists over time, while the other three were finished in a day. 

-----

Definitely some interesting stats for this year! 

[twxntrash]

The Champion’s Song Chapter Excerpt

This is the first half of Arryn’s fourth chapter in The Champion’s Song and the part I just finished most recently. Still in the early stages so this scene might be changed in the future.

Working to get Arryn’s chapters done first and then Gwyn’s because their chapters are the most ‘seperated’ from the rest of the story in a matter of speaking as they don’t frequently involving the other POV characters in their chapters like say Ash’s chapters or Sarai’s chapters would.

Just for reference since they are the focal characters in this scene:

Arryn is around fifteen, her father was the last king of the Vale (which is now ruled by the primary antagonist),  

Shay is about thirteen and is a Sun Priestess who has become a permenant traveling companion for Arryn. 

Harod had rejoined them after they had left him at the bottom of the ridge that day, when he had come back to the Kelash she did not know, but when they had made camp hours later at the suns fall she had spotted her uncle stalking across the camp, dirty and dusty from traveling on foot and more nursing his insults at having been forced to walk among the elderly, the weak, and the slaves.

           The warriors did not seem to care that they hand angered the true King of the Vale. To them, he was a man who had laid his hand on their Iirovosh’s bride, a man who was lucky to be alive and in one piece. Any other would have been killed, or had a part cut off of him in retribution.

           The men would look at him as he passed and jeer insults he could not understand at him or laugh and jest to each other at his expense. Arryn wasn’t sure what infuriated her uncle more, knowing they were mocking him, or not knowing what they were saying when they threw insults and taunts at him.

           It had taken him two nights before he would even approach Arryn again, and even then his anger was still present. Yet he did not dare raise his hand or voice at her, not when the warriors of the Kel-Varath could see.

           But the presence of Shay was becoming more a blessing as time passed. Her company becoming more appreciated by the day and keeping Arryn from feeling lonely. Her knowledge had also become more useful and welcomed during the evenings when the Kelash made their camp.

           “Daethrak mumar,” Arryn remembered Shay speaking as the young girl ran her hand through the air while they sat out by the fires one night. Her eyes had been turned to the stars but the fires before them still reflected in the green irises. “The starry sky in the Vunlat,” she had said and then patted the ground below them. “We sit upon the Visharuc mumar, the earthy sea.”

           It had become routine for Arryn and Shay to spend their evenings like that. Usually they retreated to Arryn’s tent after they ate their share of dinner with the rest of the Kelash. Within her tent there was no one to interrupt as only her handmaidens, her dog, and the two warriors set to guard Arryn would be near, Shay could teach without others distracting them.

           Shay would spend these hours teaching Arryn as much as she could each night of the Vunlat; the Kel-Varath tongue, she would teach Arryn of their culture, their worship, to teach her what she could so that when she finally wedded Jhaero she would be a good wife.

           It was slow, learning another language was not an easy task, and yet Arryn felt as though she was growing better in her new tongue with each night. Slowly she was able to better understand the people around her, and soon, Shay promised, Arryn would be able to join the conversations with words strung together seamlessly.

Perhaps when she learned to speak the Vunlat properly, she could speak to Ris and Ayur. The priestess had insisted that it would be wise of Arryn to better acquaint herself with Vosh Rotho’s wives. Though only Ayur had birthed Jhaero, they were both his mothers by the Kel-Varath custom, and would be Arryn’s once they had married at the journey’s end. Arryn would want the women’s friendship and their counsel when that happened. And when Vosh Rotho died and Jhaero became the Kelash’s new Vosh, the two wives would no longer be the wives, but the wise-women of the tribe to counsel the new Vosh until their own death.

A role that would be Arryn’s should Jhaero die a Vosh.

But that was only one of the many customs and traditions of the Kel-Varath, one of many. It was strange to Arryn, before she had been sold off to the Kel-Varath to marry Jhaero she had thought them barbarians, thought they were savages. Everything her uncle had told her, that the cities said of the Kel-Varath tribes had depicted them as bloodthirsty monsters, had claimed that when the Gods of Nine, or the Sun God to those who worshiped Him, created life, that the Kel-Varath had been forgotten when the gift of kindness and empathy, the gift of humanity had been shared among the new people.

None of those stories were anywhere close to the truth.

The Kel-Varath were violent, they were vulgar and had little shame in acts of sex and murder. They fought easily among each other, were quick to draw their blades on their fellow men and did not care if one was killed in the fight. They were raiders and killers who took what they wanted and made slaves of people they came upon to be traded for supplies.

But they were so much more than that, too. Though they did not possess a written language, nor an understanding of the scholary studies, there were still teachers among the tribes. The Ohir taught the children, boys and girls alike, how to ride horses, how to cook, to create a tent, to mend and make clothes from the animals they skinned, they taught the children to hunt and to fight.

The Kelash protected the Ghay as well, the men and women who were too old or too weak to fight or ride ever again. They would guard and protect them and take them to Ashalkir Varath the only city of the Kel-Varath and the sacred grounds of the tribes. There the Ghay would tend to their alter to Varathakun, the Sun God, until their death.

There were other customs too, of course. The binding of man and woman and the nine-month travel they must take together before they can be wed, such as her and Jhaero were undertaking. The tribes did not view bastard children as harshly as the cities did, too. Arryn had also learned that there were two kinds of parents among the Kel-Varath. There were the “blood parents”, the ones who sired and birthed the child, and there were the “true parents” who raised the child. Sometimes these titles belonged to different people, and sometimes a single mother and father were both the blood and the true parent. Yet the blood parent did not have any claim to a child or right to the child’s loyalty, only the one who raised them could be viewed as the one the child owed loyalty too.

           If that were the case, Arryn wondered if that made Harod her ‘true father’. She had never met Gregor Lowther, he had died before she was born while Harod had been the one to help raise her when her mother and Ser Reyne were alive, and had been the sole caretaker of Arryn after the two had died. She did not want to think of Harod as being her rightful parent, it did not feel right, he did not act like a caring father. A caring and loving father wouldn’t sell his young daughter to marry a man she did not know just to get an army.

           The most recent thing that Shay had taught her were the names. All along she had thought Jhaero was her husband-to-be’s true name, and yet that was not the case.

           “The Kel-Varath have two names. They are given their own name, and as they live they carry their fathers name with them,” Shay had said as the two sat in her tent one evening. “Vosh Rotho, for example. His own name is Ro, and as he lives he carries the name of his father, Vosh Thojir, with him. Rotho.”

           “Then Droatu and Molatu…their names are actually Dro and Mol?” Arryn had asked slowly, using the Vunlat as best she could in a clumsy manner. She had known them to be brothers but had not thought much of the shared ‘atu’ at their name. “Who was their father?”

           “Atutrug, a fierce warrior who had been devoured by a serpent demon,” Shay shrugged as she picked dirt from under her fingernails, “or so the slaves say.”

           “Then Jhaero is actually Jhae. Do I refer to him as Jhae when we are wed, or does he continue to be known as Jhaero?”

           Shay smiled easily at the question, “Though his name is Jhae, it would be disrespectful to call anyone by their true name. Always call him by Jhaero or they might take your head off,” she said and gave a small laugh, “It is good that Harod does not know of this, or it is most likely that he would call them by their name and be killed quick.”

           It was not a thought that Arryn wanted to think of, because she knew all too well that Shay was right. If her father knew the ways that the Kel-Varath names worked then he would think that the disrespect would give him some sort of power over them, only to be killed. Even after Varis had been ready to cut his throat open, Harod still acted as though he was superior to the Kelash. They called him the Vosh’droka because of it, the King of Rags. Arryn was glad that her uncle could not speak any of the Vunlat for that reason.

           When her uncle demanded to know what the people around him were saying, Arryn had taken to lying to him, to say that the mockery and insults they slung were in actuality harmless greetings or comments of admiration. It had helped to sooth his anger, but not completely. As long as he was forced to walk rather than ride with the rest, his anger would never be quelled. It was the best she could do and she would take what she could do.

           “What of you, Arryn?” Shay suddenly asked as she tilted her head and continued to smile. “Why are you named Arryn? This one thought that the name was that of princes, not for princesses.”

           She only blinked at the young priestess as she thought of her answer, and then she just gave a shrug as though the girls mannerism had been rubbing off on Arryn. “When I was still in my mothers womb, her and my father had expected a boy, the healers had said I would be born a boy by the way that she was carrying. My father had insisted on naming the child Arryn, supposedly it had been the name of his own father,” she explained and reached over to play with her pups fur. “My father died before I was born, as I am sure you are aware of. My mother decided to name me Arryn regardless when I was born as though to honor him. At least that is what I’ve been told.”

           It had never seemed a fascinating story to her, yet the people who knew Arryn was the name of boys and men would ask why it was worn by a girl. The answer was simply that her father had expected a prince, and her mother gave her the name of a prince for him.

           If she had been given a different name when she was born, she could not imagine what it would have been. The elegant and beautiful names of the ladies and princesses found in the books Shay had given her did not feel like they could ever suit her. Or rather, Arryn did not feel she could ever fit the names, she was not regal or lady-like enough, was not beautiful enough for such lovely names.

           “What of yourself?” Arryn asked as she looked over at the priestess.

           Shay smiled and adjusted the sleeves of her long red robe. “What of this one?”

           “I’ve met many priests and priestesses of the Sun God, not as personally as I’ve come to know you, but within the cities that Harod and I have had to live in before Magister Llyono and before the Kel-Varath, I have met my fair share,” Arryn began slowly and watched Shay carefully. Even with how close she felt the two had become these past few months, she knew very little of the young priestess, and the mystery the girl lived was still a danger in Arryn’s eyes. “I’ve come to know a few things about how the priests and priestesses work.”

           That smile did not fall, it was not challenging nor was it mocking, and though it was worn upon the small round face of a girl barely thirteen, it still sent a chill down Arryn’s spine. “And what things have you come to know?”

           Swallowing, Arryn spoke, “That the people of your temples give up the name of their families. The temple becomes your family and your loyalty,” it was one of the things that stood out to Shay the longer she spent time with her, something she was sure not even Harod had noticed. “Why, then, are you known as Shay Arrion and not just Shay?”

           There was a hum as Shay looked back down to continue playing with the sleeves of her robe. “Ah, this one wonders too, it is a curious thing to have two names and not one.” She smiled and stood up, brushing dirt and leaves from the bottom of her red robe. “The fires need tending, prayers and offerings to give to the father Sun for blessings of a good travel.”

           “Are you not going to answer my question?” Arryn asked as she watched Shay walk to her tent, nodding to the handmaidens who backed away to give her space.

           Shay was still smiling as she paused at the tents mouth, “Perhaps one day you shall know. There is a time for every shred of knowledge, Arryn, but tonight is not the night for the knowledge of Arrion,” she had a hint of mischief in her voice, “You should rest. Tomorrow brings a long ride.”

[batneko]

It's Mumarou Month! I didn't make prompts again, but feel free to send me drawing or ficlet ideas and I'll see what I can do. 💪

[agaroueveryday]

Day 4: Picnicking

Day 5: Bake together

Day 6: Ice-skating

(I was trying to think of which one would be more likely to be bad at it, but they both have reasons to be good at it)

Day 7: Wedding day

[unfortunatelycake]

Chapters: 1/?

Rating: Teen And Up Audiences

Relationships: Garou/Mumen Rider | License-less Rider

Summary: When Garou joins the Hero Association, the executives decide that if the public are to accept him (and continue making donations) he needs a mentor and a positive publicity campaign.

Of all the heroes they could appoint as mentor, the choice is obvious: the people's favourite, all-round good guy Mumen Rider.

Notes: For this year’s Mumarou Month! As usual I lean more towards writing than drawing, so will be fitting as many of the prompts into the various chapters as possible, though there's a couple I've mentally earmarked for other works.

POV will change from chapter to chapter. Not sure how many chapters in total yet but currently looking at around 7-8.

First chapter prompt: A selfie together.

[rayadraws]

A quick ’un for mumarou month

A little bunny runs into a big pupper

[anonymousedward]

One more and I'll leave you alone: 21 and 51 for Mumarou. :D

21. Dystopian AU

and

51. Accidentally Married 

okay how about this

The monsters aren’t evil. They blend into society as best they can. It’s just a quirk of genetics that makes the change into something Other. They’re often killed upon discovery, or enslaved if they are captured alive. Captured, collared, programmed to obey. There are some pockets of monsters, deep in the wild where monsters have escaped to form their own little tribes, killing humans who venture too close - not out of bloodlust, like the stories say, but out of fear. The mating fever, as beneficial as it is for ensuring offspring, makes monsters irrational - heat stricken monsters venture blindly in search of compatible monsters, sometimes venturing into human territory. They are too mad with lust to stay away from the faint, tantalizing scent of potential mates. Garou is one such monster, venturing away from his tribe, following his nose to the human world. 

Heroes, hunters of monsters who masquerade as humans as well as those in the wild, find Garou’s trail. He is injured, limping from a cruel trap, weak from fever. 

One hero, not new to the job, but too soft by half to last much longer, finds the monster. He’s more coherent than the ones who usually venture out, but he doesn’t even attempt to hide his Otherness. The monster is weak - he could capture it alive, which would bring in enough money to pay the rent for months. And yet... the monster speaks. 

“Why you?” the monster pleads, “Why did it have to be you?” Mumen isn’t sure what he means. He hesitates, hears distant shouting of heroes coming closer. 

“Please,” the monster says, weak and defeated. 

Mumen brings him inside. 

He nurses the monster in between morally repugnant jobs. Re-captures an escaped slave. Takes down a human who transformed into a monster at a shopping center. He keeps his face blank as he works, then goes home and cries until he chokes. 

The monster he saved, with his intelligent golden eyes and strangely gentle claws... the monster is getting worse. His wounds are treated but his fever worsens. He babbles to Mumen, begging for touch, for contact, for his body. As the fever worsens to the point that the monster begins hallucinating, when lukewarm baths and ice packs fail to alleviate his suffering, Mumen gives in. It seems like the only sort of comfort he can give to this dying monster. 

The monster snaps at him, leaving bloody imprints in his shoulders, but Mumen bites back. He claws and snarls like a monster himself as they mate.

It is only after, when the monster - Garou - when his fever finally breaks that Mumen learns it was more than intercourse, but a marriage between equals. 

Garou has to go back to his kind and needs Mumen to go with him. Mumen has no friends, no family, no prospects... He accepts. 

After he deactivates the collars linked to Z City’s main control center. And as the monsters take bloody revenge on their former masters, Mumen and Garou flee the city, never to be seen by human eyes again.