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revisitingfandoms · 3 months

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Idea Prompt 10- A soulmate by any other name would never be the same

(Or in which pure vanilla can never catch a break.)

Every Cookie had atleast three separate soulmate markings.

One Romantic, one Familial and one an enemy. That was the standard, however there were cases like his.

Five Romantic, Five Familial and no enemies.

That last part was the reason he’d been moved from counselor to counselor out of his mothers worry. After all, his parents just set to distancing themselves from him.

(Afterall- instead of nameless blurs on his arms they were names in delicate ink carved into his skin. Five Familial names written upon them and not one of them was any cookie in his direct family.)

Pure vanilla sighed and grabs the book he was reading, “Ah- I should go meet up with White Lily Cookie..” The blonde cookie couldn’t stop the burning on his cheeks at the thought of his first Romantic soulmate.

(Elder Faerie, Dark Cacao, Golden Cheese, Hollyberry, White Lily)

(All of them written clearly in varying shades of red, orange or yellow, covering him.)

( White Lily’s name written around his wrist, almost like a chain, in a deep red, a red that had small things of black in it. Many times he’d been told it meant at some point they would be at odd ends before coming back together.)

(Elder Faeries was a soft yellow with strains of bright green and moments of silver. All he would have to do to see the others name was to simply look directly at his right shoulder and he could spot the others name trailing up his upper arm. He’d been told it meant that Elder Faerie would be there- that he would be supporting him and protecting him even when he didn’t know.)

(Dark Cacao was a deep red but lighter than White Lily’s, although bits of it was blue that mixed into purple on it. Many times pure vanilla had traced the others name written onto his inner elbow. More then once the name had gotten a nod of approval, that the other would be silent, but kind, a strong but gentle protector.)

(Golden Cheese was a bright bold yellow with a shining orange texture. Going diagonally right across his forearm. His father had laughed at the counselors words, a cookie who would spoil him in anything and everything and would be willing to give him whatever his heart desired, yet would also wish to be treasured back.)

(The pinkish-red of Hollyberry’s names was bright and bold and out there. The other had the biggest lettered name right along his back arm. He remembered the words, they would be bright, loud and willing, a bright smile and more then ready to fight for him.)

Pure vanilla could barely hide his blush as he rubbed his left arm against his cheek, he paused then as he spied the name in a proud navy blue and deep fiery red, Burning spice. He sighed as he looked over his familial soulmates' names.

(Burning Spice was seared into the palm of his hand, more than once concerns had been expressed towards the meaning of his Familial soulmate. A burning, fiery passion that gave off the feeling of destruction, buried with deep seated possessiveness.)

(A dark pink and purple Eternal sugar tied around his wrist, seemingly tighter than white lily’s own. Possessive, he’d heard, Possessive and desperate. Willing to do whatever it took to keep him.)

(Pale blue with Mystic Flour written upon his upper arm like a band- just right below his shoulder. Uncaring had been the common words stated about them, until a more experience counselor turned around and told him something different. Exhausted, tired, apathetic, but not completely uncaring, possessive and not willing to lose him.)

(Silent Salt was marked out in deep purple sprawling across the back of his forearm. Quiet had been easy to know right off the bat, perhaps even distant or cold, but the words of hesitant, of bold and of possessive had not been.)

(The last name had always struck him- the same shade of blue of the academy. Shadow milk crawling across his elbow, almost always in his sight in some way due to its length. More then once he’d overheard the whispers of the counselors, unstable, they spoke with concern, intelligent, possessive, dangerous.)

(Dangerous had always been unspoken with the other four, yet they felt compelled to state it aloud. It always made him question his familial soulmates. Just who they were.)

He’s brought from his thoughts as he nearly trips from his poor eyesight, but grabs onto a nearby wall and thankfully manages to stop himself. Pure Vanilla puts his thoughts behind him as he continues onto his way to his soulmate.

Unaware to the eyes in the hallway that follow him.

Shadow milk only smiles silently as he does his best to assist his son (A son, he has a son- something those witches would have never granted him or the others, a son!). He can hear the cooing of Eternal sugar, the light growls of burning spice as pure vanilla struggles in the hallways, silent salt standing vigil at the watcher ball shadow milk had made and mystic flour lightly patting the ball with a small smile.

One day, they would exit this damn tree and then they would finally, finally be able to truly, fully greet their son.

(Heyo! Little notes this au; Shadow milk does not equal the light of truth in this au! Nor is he or the other beasts aware of what happened to their soul Jams. Also note that due to fuckery reasons Pure Vanilla doesn’t end up in hammerspace, but instead with severe amnesia that becomes triggered by the vanilla kingdom- to which he spends the next few weeks fully recovering his memories.)

(Also I would like to expand upon a thing! I am now answering any questions you may have about any of the au’s I’ve so far! Just a little event thing for the next five days!)

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queenvernage · 1 year

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💕 ranger rare pair round up 💕 | udonna + leanbow for @cupcakes-are-ours

#ranger rare pair round up #power rangers #mystic force #udonna #leanbow #pls go easy on me for just getting back this project i was a lil overwhelmed #nothing but love and respect for MY mystic parents #your honor they found each other across time and space

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jonathanrook · 7 months

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#i was watching hallmark's “a mystic christmas” w my parents earlier for shits and giggles #bc it's only like a town over from where we live #and nothing made sense like. spatially.#like at one point this kid is walking to school and apparently she had to go through a shopping mall to get there??#and later the main character is at said mall and needed to go to the aquarium and her love interest is like #“take my car” like dude it's a thirty second walk across the parking lot #it'll take longer to find a parking spot this time of day #BUT ANYWAY the thing took place at the aquarium and it reminded me #of this^ argument i got in w my friend the other day #rachel rants

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lulu2992 · 4 days

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After GRIS and The First Tree, I decided to play Cattails.

While I was downloading it, I was thinking, “This is probably a mistake”, predicting I would likely end up playing it for many, many hours.

However, at first, I was disappointed. There isn’t much to do in the game, in the sense that there’s only one “story mission” (awaken the Forest Guardian) and that, to complete it, you basically just have to wait for seasons to pass so you can try to collect the required items. That didn’t seem entertaining to me, but because of the overwhelmingly positive reviews and my initial instinct, I kept playing anyway (a little differently).

I persevered because I really wanted to “get” Cattails.

In the end, I got it :’)

Details about my journey and screenshots under the cut if you’re interested.

I initially created an orange cat, like my late childhood pet, because I thought it would be cute to play as him and make him live many virtual adventures. That said, since Cattails is actually more of a simulation game, I realized my original plan wasn’t the best and even felt limiting, so I changed my cat’s name and appearance after a few hours (you can do this without creating a new save file).

My protagonist became a completely fictional character, Lou, a black cat with yellow eyes who had nothing to do with my real cat and could have an original story. Later, I picked the “Silhouette” color because I thought it looked even cooler.

I chose to join the Forest Colony and, when I discovered starting a family was a thing, ended up marrying Scout. Lou had one kitten, Ella, who loves art.

After the main quest, I created my own custom colony, which I chose to establish in the area called Beach West (lower left corner of the map). As for the name, the “Seaside Colony” seemed fitting.

I’m a completionist, so I decided to buy every unique item, befriend all the cats in my colony, and unlock and fully upgrade all the skills. After all of that was done, I was content :)

I decorated my home with gemstones and shells. Also, yes, writing SEASIDE with scallops took forever (probably 3 in-game days).

The game lets you change the name and appearance of the cats that join your custom colony, but I didn’t do it because, even though it doesn’t matter at all since they’re fictional cats, I wanted them to remain themselves and keep their identity. I think Claw is my favorite.

Finally, here’s a GIF of the first time my baby successfully caught a prey because I was so proud ♥

#so yes I guess it was indeed a mistake haha #look if you can play as a cat in a game I want it #I’ll probably buy little kitty big city #cattails #my sceenshots #cattails screenshots #was I moved when my kitten told me I had been a great parent? yes #funny coincidence: the colonies and the map reminded me of fc5 #mountain colony in the north #mystic colony in the east #forest colony in the west #temple in the middle #gifs I made

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dandylovesturtles · 1 year

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I actually like several AUs that take the exact opposite philosophy of what I’m about to say here but I really truly feel like in a world where Draxum kept some/all of the turtles he would consider Donnie his biggest success.

First of all I think it’s kind of weird when people act like Draxum would be surprised/disappointed by Donnie’s softshell. Like yeah I guess it’s funny to think he grabbed 4 random eggs without knowing what would hatch, but actually if your goal is to make a bunch of super soldier turtle tots it makes sense to get a softshell. They’re predators, they’re aggressive, they’re fast (for a turtle) on both land and in water, their soft shell affords them more agility and flexibility than other turtles, they can stay under water basically indefinitely, and they have strong chompers for chompin’.

Donnie himself is hyper intelligent, morally gray, indifferent to the plights of people he doesn’t personally care about, unafraid of physical confrontation (he gets right in Draxum’s face in episode 1 and he swings that bo like it’s a battle hammer half the time), and his love for his family is the only thing keeping him from his villain arc anyway. Add all that to his need for Parental Approval at All Costs and you have the perfect recipe for a little murder turtle tot all your own.

Sure, he’s not so good at mystic stuff, but lbr Draxum probably wasn’t expecting any of them to be and that would just come as a bonus.

tldr Donnie is Draxum’s truest son and everyone should be glad Splinter got him in the divorce

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mino-diabolik · 8 months

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DIATOBER 2023 : DAY 08

DAY 08: ❝ TSUKINAMI ❞

Created by @fruit-of-infidelity

❝ The shadows they live under weight heavier than the gold of their crowns. ❞

THE HEIRS

#[oh the amount of parental issues these two have—]#[on the background are Carla and DJ btw]#[finally got to do something with Kazuha 🗿✨]#[liked Kaz better in this one rather than Mys 😭💀]#mystic tsukinami #kazuha tsukinami #carla tsukinami #dj #danny #diatober #diatober 2023 #mi arte #my art

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keikaru · 1 month

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love's imbroglio - mystic messenger (Jumin Han/MC)

“I might not have the experience or knowledge like you, but I am a fast learner. Teach me, and I’ll be able to perform within your range of expectations. If I can’t keep up—dismiss me. But before you let your biases muddle your judgement, at least let me prove myself that I am not incompetent to whatever level you hold me at.”

Her eyes narrowed to the same firmness of her voice. She knew her mild temperament was close to succumbing to fury and disgust, but she smoothed her skirt and reigned in her anger. Once the elevator descended to the lobby, she could walk away and forget everything.

In fact, she could have walked away at any moment, damn the consequences. Yesterday, three days ago, last week when the deal was finalized. Yet she stayed. She couldn’t find it in herself to leave—not when her parents’ businesses were on the line. Not when her mother’s high end fashion line and her father’s grand hotels were at stake.

Although she should have been aghast by the severity of the situation, something far greater than those concerns reeled her attention away. Where did her older sister go?

The eldest was all gung-ho about inheriting her mother’s business that she interned and worked along their mother after high school and the following years. Her sister cut back on college classes and managed to be a part-time model and promote clothing lines and promotional items.

Now she—the second daughter—was thrust amid family problems. Correction—family business problems. Her disinterest in her parents’ business was clear, yet she found herself in the very core of it.

Most importantly, why did her sister disappear? And where did she go?

Her knuckles whitened as she curled her fingers into a tight ball. Her jaw was taut with tension. It was too soon to be reminded of her sister. She disappeared just five months ago.

She saw Jumin visibly stiffen, but his face was impassive as he brushed her comments aside with a pointed, sidelong glance. His eyes reflected a cold indifference, almost imploring her to utter one more bold statement that would lead to her resigning by tomorrow.

The air between them was filled with a thick silence. Mingled in with a tension and discomfort on a spectrum she hadn’t known existed until now.

She was going to be fired. She was certain of it. As her gaze caught his reflection in the elevator mirror, she noticed that he crossed his arms—it crinkled the sleeves of his dark tailored suit—and lowered his gaze. He suddenly found interest in the plush carpeting. Likewise, she averted her eyes to the wall beside her. But she had to voice her concern—her irritation about his inability to look beyond the small world he submerged himself in. That, and his obsession with his beloved feline partner, Elizabeth the third. “I apologize for my behavior,” Jumin said quietly, keeping her at a distance. Jumin shifted and leaned his shoulder against the wall. His eyes were trained on the glowing elevator buttons in front of him, but his body partially faced her. “I’ve been under much duress as of late. I didn’t mean to ignore or snap at you this entire week. I’ve been…inhospitable ever since our first meeting. And truthfully, it is not your fault by mine.”

#AU #arranged marriage #mystic messenger #mysme #mysme jumin #jumin han #jumin x MC #jumin x OC #my fic #WIP #fanfiction #fanfic #drabble #this was a super old idea with jumin/MC ft arranged marriage trope because of furthering business ties #it features a developing relationship/romance/drama #mc's parents and jumin's dad arranged this marriage #jumin is at first critical of MC but he eventually softens up when they spend time together and he ultimately gives her a choice #if she wants to be married to him #mc is torn because she's still young (early 20s) and figuring out her life and decides to wait #side plot that MC's older sister goes missing (pursue her own things) and eldest sister was supposed to marry Jumin INSTEAD #but then shenanigans happened and MC's parents wanted HER to marry Jumin instead #since jumin has never seen the eldest sister before that's why MC “posed” as the eldest #it's a bit of stolen identities/replacement and jumin pieces it together but doesn't tell MC's family that he knows

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khlegacynexus · 4 months

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Finally Done special thanks to @peoplepersonoaktree for letting me use her picture for a reference

If you’re new to the Mystic Prodigy Series give it a read here? https://archiveofourown.org/works/47590342/chapters/119942182

#rottmnt #save rise of the tmnt #rise mikey #rise leo #prodigy mikey #prodigy leo #rise of the tmnt #unpause rise of the tmnt #unpause rottmnt #riseofthetmnt #rise of tmnt season 3 #mystic prodigy series #mystic prodigy propaganda #bad parent Draxum #prodigy #rottmnt separated au

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elviragrey · 6 months

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Breaking up my Strahdposting with another OC. This time its Pancake

#he was originally my neverwinter mmo character but i decided to make him real for avernus #his whole deal was that his parents were big ol heroes who settled down after their big mission and decided to have a kid #so they named him something dumb since the 'final session' never has consequences #and went on another big campaign and left him at home. so now he hates them #and his one goal in life is to become god #hes a mystic. i made him literally the month before they stopped working on mystics #he doesnt talk he just beams words into peoples heads like saiki k #dungeons and dragons #d&d #original character #dnd drow

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extrasfromthevoid · 3 months

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Draxum's Accidental Child Acquisition (part 1/?)

@tmntbestsibscompetiton

Summary: How Milo (though that's not yet her name) found her way into the Hidden City and into the care of the one and only Baron Draxum

OR Draxum's adventures in parenting.

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In an innermost back alley of New York City, there is a very bored girl.

The plain red ball she’d been given—or found, she doesn’t remember—is nice, but she’s running out of games she can play on her own with it and there’s no one around to play with her.

She picks up the ball once again as it rolls back to her feet from where she kicked it against the brick wall.

The city around her thrums with activity, but the late hour means that there’s no one around.

How did this lone child end up in the depths of New York City alone? Well, even she doesn’t know that. It doesn’t matter to her anyway as the sole thought at the forefront of her mind is that she is incredibly bored.

Her thoughts are interrupted by a curious flicker of light in the corner of her eye. Looking up, a curious orb of light zips over her head.

Mesmerized, the rubber ball drops from her hands as she reaches up for the light. It weaves gracefully through her fingers before darting away, its pale blue light pulsing cheerfully. Without hesitation, she chases after it, heedless of the rubber ball bouncing away behind her, quickly abandoned.

The orb zips around the corner into a nearby alley and—strangely—through the wall behind a dumpster. She—being two and a half by generous estimates—didn’t even notice as she crossed a threshold from the surface city, to the hidden one. — She loses sight of the fun orb pretty quickly, but new wonders catch her attention pretty quickly as what once seemed to her to be a quiet city now explodes with light, life, and color. The toddler twirls around with wide eyes, trying to take in as much of her new environment as possible.

And boy is it a change from before. The surface city was quiet in its own way, save for the sounds of traffic and the occasional dog. She didn’t know, but it was late enough that it was now early, and while the City That Never Sleeps certainly lives up to its name, its comparatively sleepy early morning state can’t hold a candle to the sensory explosion of the underground city.

Giggling, she starts to run down the streets, weaving between the fascinating people walking around. She’s never seen such a fun place before! People walk around with extra sets of arms, horns, tails, wings, and all manner of skin colors and textures, and so much more!

The air smells of hot, spiced food, carts zoom through the air, pulled by creatures she can’t identify. Everything around her hums with life and energy.

It's exciting!

She pushes past two people to reach a balcony over looking a glittering city that follows the curves of the cavern and shining with all the colors of the rainbow.

She stands on the base of the railing though her chin only barely makes it over the top.

“Uh...who’s kid is that…?”

“Dunno. Do you see any panicked parent-looking types around?”

“Nah. Should we bother doing something?”

“Eh…it’ll work itself out. Long as they don’t bug me…”

Heedless, the toddler steps away from the balcony’s railing and continues to wander deeper into this fascinating new environment. — Baron Draxum is all around having a fairly rotten day. The Council of Heads has once again dismissed his concerns about the human threat and Big Mama has once again refused to release Lou Jitsu into his custody. Nothing seems to be going Draxum’s way today and it has left him in a foul mood.

So he’s going to indulge in a little of his favorite vendor food to help soothe his fraying nerves.

Just as he’s about to partake, something thumps into his legs harshly enough for him to stumble, nearly dropping his delectable indulgence and with it, the last shreds of his sanity.

He whips around, teeth bared in a menacing sneer at whoever was foolish enough to run into him. “Watch where you—“

Draxum's rage stutters as his eyes turn down towards the culprit. Sprawled on their back at his hooves is a toddler with two messy buns and a pair of overalls. A human toddler. Draxum wrinkles his nose in disgust as the wretched spawn blinks up at him with wide, dark eyes.

Draxum reaches down and picks the toddler up by the back of their clothes. They weigh very little. “How did you get in here, spawn?” He asks.

To his surprise—and annoyance—the spawn doesn’t answer. Instead, it lets out a shrieking laugh as it dangles from Draxum’s hand, feet kicking out wildly in the open air. It seems to enjoy being held like this, strangely enough.

Curious, Draxum glances around the mulling crowd. Various yokai go about their business, casting occasional curious glances in the direction of him and the human spawn, but none seem eager to claim it for themselves. From where he stands, Draxum spies no other humans in the crowd, and certainly no one that looks frantic enough to have misplaced this little creature.

Did it wander in her all on its own somehow? Draxum wonders.

An idea percolates in Draxum’s mind as he takes a bite of his food, looking over the tiny giggling human in his grasp. Perhaps, this could be an opportunity. After all, how often would Draxum be able to examine and study human behaviors from the outset of their infancy?

And more importantly, shape them. If some disgusting human couldn’t be bothered to keep a better eye on their own spawn, then perhaps it was better off with Draxum anyway.

Curiously, the spawn seems unperturbed by neither Draxum’s appearance nor the general sight of the Hidden City. It continues reaching for Draxum with pudgy hands, repeating the syllable “ba” over and over.

Draxum hums, mind made up. He takes a bite of his treat and then tucks the still giggling human-ling under his arm and walks off in the direction of his home and lab.

Perhaps if he’s lucky, this creature will become an excellent soldier. And wouldn’t it be ironic if the one to lead Draxum’s army to take back the surface world from those disgusting humans was human themself? He smiles a little at the thought. Yes, this may work out nicely.

——— As it turns out, raising a human spawn is harder than Draxum thought. Namely, the specimen—that Draxum has taken to simply calling Spawn—is the most disagreeable and stubborn creature humanity has ever produced. He has determined that Spawn is approximately two and a half years old and biologically of the female variety, but that is about all he was able to discern as Spawn refused to stay still for any further examination and forced Draxum to chase her through the lab, giggling the whole way as if they were playing a game. She may not be very fast on those unsteady legs of hers, but the clutter in Draxum’s lab makes catching her a chore whenever she darts through openings Draxum can’t pass through. Especially since the little creature seems to find Draxum’s frustration with her antics highly amusing.

On top of this, the Spawn refuses to stay in her containment cell during rest hours, either wailing until Draxum comes to quiet her or breaking out herself. Most often the latter.

Spawn spends most of the night crying. Draxum has stayed to observe Spawn as she sleeps to see what exactly causes her such violent distress. So far, he has observed no external stimulus that could be responsible for Spawn’s late night outbursts. His best hypothesis from his observations is that Spawn suffers from nightmares and seeks comfort from him in their aftermath.

Further complicating matters, Spawn is not at point in her development where she is capable of workable speech. The most she is capable of is repeatedly shouting “ba” at him and babbling incoherently as she tries to mimic what Draxum says himself.

Draxum sighs heavily, holding the squirming, giggly human ahead of him from under her arms. “It seems teaching you to speak will have to be our first priority,” he says.

“Prabababe,” she echoes, lightly slapping her hand against Draxum's wrist with her meager baby strength for emphasis.

“That’s right, little Spawn. Priority,” he says, repeating the proper pronunciation of the word the child is mimicking.

“Prabababe!” She cheers loudly.

He sets her down and pats her on her head as he turns to look for a notepad. He’ll have to make a trip to the library and start putting together a lesson plan. Perhaps he should pick up some books on child-rearing while he’s there. Raising a human spawn can’t be much different than raising a young yokai, right? Not that Draxum has experience with either, however.

And then suddenly, there's a cacophonous crash behind him, followed by the piercing sound of crying.

Draxum whips around so fast that his neck muscles cramp painfully. Spawn sits amid a pile of toppled weapons, a rather nasty cut on her right forearm, likely from a wayward blade. Tears leak from her face at an impressive rate as blood wells in the wound and dribbles down her arm, splattering across the floor and soaking into her clothes.

“Ah nuts!” He shouts, diving for the sobbing child.

She curls in on herself, pulling her injured arm close to her chest, further staining her outfit with the blood seeping from the wound, and burying her face into Draxum’s kimono as she wails. Draxum shudders involuntarily as he feels Spawn’s face fluids soak into his clothes.

“Spawn, cease this and let me inspect your injury,” he orders, prying her arm out so he can examine it.

The bad news is that it’s a fairly deep wound. The good news is that it’s also a clean one. While it speaks to the quality of the blade that caused it, it’s deep enough that this will doubtlessly require stitches.

Looks like I’ll need to put those somewhere she can’t reach, Draxum thinks as he digs through a drawer for his medical kit. A little difficult with a child in his arm, but not impossible.

He finds it tucked all the way in the back, of course. Regardless, Draxum retrieves the supplies and sets to work, all while cursing his past self for leaving him so ill-prepared.

Spawn continues to squirm and wail and cry, but Draxum doesn’t let her yank her injured arm away as he expertly stitches the long wound on her forearm closed and wraps it securely with sterile bandages. Fortunately, once Draxum completes the stitches, Spawn’s squirming lessens and her cries quiet down to blissful silence, though one punctuated by an occasional hiccuping sob. Still, it's a great deal better than the shrill wailing Spawn had committed herself to just moments ago.

His work completed and his subject thoroughly exhausted from her emotional display, Draxum sits back in his chair, staring indifferently at the mess of bandages and cleansing solution strewn over his lab table. As if sensing the opening in Draxum's defenses, Spawn wastes no time scooting herself off of the table and plopping gracelessly into Draxum’s lap.

“Hey!” He exclaims indignantly.

Predictably, the little creature pays no heed to Draxum’s protests as she curls up against his chest, gripping his robes with her tiny hands and tucking her wounded arm carefully against her own chest. And she soon falls asleep.

Draxum sighs lightly. “At least she’s finally quiet…” — Draxum swiftly returns a thoroughly exhausted Spawn to her containment cell. Detangling her is a bit of a challenge as her tiny hands are deceptively strong and grip his robes so tightly he’d momentarily feared they’d rip as he dislodged her. Tear tracks dry on her cheeks as she dozes against the pillows, the bandages covering her injury standing out starkly against the dark bedding. Even through the bandages, a faint light shines through, tracing the length of the injury.

The wound has a mystic quality to it that, Draxum concludes. He finds it odd, seeing as the chances of this random human toddler having mystic potential it laughably small. Most likely, that mystic quality came from whatever Spawn cut herself on.

“Still,” he muses quietly to himself. “It may be worth a look. Just in case.”

Packing away his medical supplies, Draxum turns his attention back to the pile of weapons he will need to find a new home for. Preferably out of a certain nosy—and fragile—human’s reach.

Over the course of his long life, Draxum has become steward of many interesting mystic weapons. Some owners return for their stowed weapons, but many never do for one reason or another. Usually it’s because they no longer need it or forget about it, but some are items of terrible power that are better off tucked away and hopefully forgotten by the inevitable march of time. Draxum can only hope that Spawn didn’t cut herself on one such weapon.

Finding the weapon doesn’t take long, as it’s the only one in the pile with bright red blood glistening along its edge.

“Hm. The odachi…,” Draxum muses, picking up the sword in one hand and reaching for the rag with another. “Not the worst possible outcome.”

He’ll have to keep an eye on Spawn for any adverse effects. The blade of this particular odachi is capable of cutting the fabric of space just as easily as it cuts flesh. Draxum can’t rightly say what might happen in this case, if anything at all. It’s doubtful--though not impossible under the right circumstances--that Spawn will gain powers like the odachi’s or lose parts of herself suddenly, but Draxum admittedly hasn’t cleaned the blade in some time, so it is a much greater possibility that Spawn could contract an infection rather than powers.

He’ll have to monitor the wound carefully as it heals. Both for infection and any...peculiarities.

Draxum wipes the blade clean and sets about gathering the weapons around his lab. He rather quickly finds himself eyeing the loose, breakable beakers of caustic chemicals littering the surfaces within reach for the heedless spawn now in his care.

Part of him now regrets his impulsive decision to take in such a small, fragile creature, but…hopefully the results will be worth the present headache.

(Next)

#void's writing #rottmnt oc: milo hamato #rottmnt #rise of the teenage mutant ninja turtles #teenage mutant ninja turtles #writing these had been really fun bc i am inflicting a literal toddler on draxum that fears neither man nor god #he strikes me as the kind of parent that would speak to an infant like he would an adult (which will be helpful as she learns how to speak)#draxum now has to figure out how to baby proof his lab lmao #I'm be posting one of these a day. right now we're in the 'prologue' territory #but i might skip around a bit when we hit the actual episodes as most aren't written yet :) (which is why im not posting these on ao3 yet)#yes. the odachi spawn cut herself on is THAT odachi that leo picks up fifteen years later #and yes. she gets a fun power from it :)#im interpreting the mystic weapons we see in the series as semi-sentient and in this instance; spawn accidentally formed a pact w the odach #what's the pact? uh...something to do w curiosity and exploration. spawn doesnt think in words so much as images and feelings

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