stuff I tag

“Cora, it’s Monday morning. I’m not listening to you tell me vampires are real when I haven’t even had my coffee yet,” Law informed her aunt.
“I suppose that’s fair,” Cora said, and went back to her map. “But do try to drink fast.”
“Yes, there’s those pesky little safety procedures to review.” Doffy‘s tail twitched as she tracked the progress of Cora’s pen. “And you’re already running late.”
Law paused, coffee cup halfway to her mouth. “Vampires are also real,” she said, not really questioning it but hoping to be told ‘no’ anyway.
“Duh.”
“Shut up, Doffy.” Law chugged half the mug of coffee in one go. “There was nothing about vampires in the information on protection sigils you had me read last week.”
“Well, that’s because our magic doesn’t work on them,” Cora said, sounding very tired. “They’re thaumophages, they just eat whatever we throw at them.”
“Eat,” Doffy muttered, snidely. 
“Absorb. Whatever.” Cora shoved her sister the cat over to get to more of the map. “That’s why we’ve got an arrangement. There’s someone called the Slayer who’s magically adapted specifically to attack and kill vampires. We—and by we I mean me, you’re not on the hook for this yet—provide magical backup, healing, charms, that kind of thing, and in exchange we get a kind of panic button in case we need help. I can fill you in on the details if you want.” She glanced up from the map, clearly remembering their last fight. “Or not.”
Law considered. “There’s nothing I have to do about this?”
“Just carry around a talisman with the panic button in case something goes wrong so you can let the Slayer and her local support network know.”
“Then I don’t want to know,” Law decided, and chugged the rest of her coffee. Definitely not on a Monday morning. 

surprise they’re the same thing <3

Now there was just the problem of a ceremony. According to Carly, not only should her parents be satisfied with the Catholic ceremony they’d gotten for her older sister if they knew what was good for them, a Catholic priest wouldn’t want to perform the ceremony with a non-Catholic spouse involved. Which meant Spike had to decide which rabbi he was going to ask—his cousin or Rabbi Josef who’d known him as a kid—or if he was just going to let his mother know and see which if them called him first.
“Should I convert?” Carly asked. “Will they want me to?”
Spike made a noncommittal noise. “It shouldn’t be a problem. My dad didn’t convert.”
“But should I?” she asked, looking up from a copy of Popular Mechanics. It was an old one. She was flicking through it, back and forth, restless. “Will that make things easier for you, or me, or both of us?”
“I mean, it won’t make it harder if you don’t,” Spike said. Chip was looking up from his own book now, picking up that something was off in her tone.
“I just don’t want to do something wrong,” she said, flipping a page back and forth, back and forth.

“Okay, I have to ask, what’s with the duck?” 
“Hm?” Nami’s question breaks Vivi from the distracted musing she’s falling into, surveilling the Ship of Dreams through binoculars. “Karoo?”
The duck in question looks over from where he’s standing on guard. He hadn’t been thrilled recruiting a thief, or the plan it had spurred her into, but he’s continued to follow her lead. 
“Yes,” Nami says, after she and Karoo stare each other for a while. “The giant duck with a hat that follows you around. Is there another duck like that I could be talking about?”
“There’s the flying duck squadron in Alabasta,” Vivi says. “But Karoo’s the only one here.”
Nami looks at her, at the duck, back at her. “And why is that again?”

prompt fill because it occurred to me it would be very funny to inflict rowdy teenage usagi on ghost general leo and vicey versey

His shadow was a silhouette far larger than he was—larger even than Sojobo, the tengu Usagi had trained with. Even as he knelt, unmoving, it bobbed up and down, arms darting around, twisting back and forth. ‘Uh. Not really in a position to triage here, but are you bleeding? Broken bones?’
“No.” Usagi sheathed his swords so he could scrub his hands over his face. “But I think I might be going mad.”
‘Oh, that’s fine. Everyone’s been telling me I’m crazy for years, and it hasn’t killed me yet!’
Usagi started laughing at the absurdity of it. “You’re a ghost!”
‘Ah, well, that does undermine the argument.’ Usagi’s shadow moved an arm to reach for its head, and then moved both arms out in a shrug. ‘I got killed by something else, if that helps?’
Usagi was barely following the words. “Wait. Do that again.”
‘What, this?’ The shadow shrugged again.
Usagi took a deep breath. The world might be going crazy, but he felt a little more sure of himself. “You said you’re stuck to me.”
‘Yep. No getting rid of me now, I’m your new best friend.’
“Did you realize you’ve taken over my shadow?”
‘I did?’ Leo sounded baffled. ‘Nope! News to me. Wait, you can see this?’ The shadow started jumping, arms waving.

The Ship of Dreams comes to rest beside Reverse Mountain at sunset once a year, crashing down the side in a cascading plume of water. Vivi had heard rumors of it last year, certain members of the faithful who had snuck close enough to see the splash. They hadn’t dared go any closer. 
She feels no such compunction born of worship, or respect. There’s the familiar wariness of scoping out a well-defended target, an unsettled tension holding her spine straight as she remembers that she’s here to rob gods. They may not be her gods, she may not worship them, but these are still beings of great power. The power to change the world, or withhold that change. The power to keep life-giving rain from an Alabasta that so badly needs it, enough to beg for it. 
If that’s what they’re going to do with that power, they can’t be trusted with it. Vivi’s resolve remains unchanged, no matter what she’s about to confront.
They can strike her down or cut her to pieces or burn her to ash beneath the sun, feed her soul to the King of Ghosts, bury her bones in the garden of Fate—Vivi will stay the course even if the Weather Witch herself comes down to smite her for her daring.

it IS and man am I overdue to get back to it especially since I’ve had this chapter–which isn’t even the next chapter it’s like three from now?–ready to go for like a year now:

There was weird space jazz attached to the video for some reason. A jaunty horn solo played as Raph walked into a cage match, no armor, no weapons.
“He’s smiling,” Casey said, and winced as they all immediately shushed him.
The knight was in the middle of the ring with a raised mace. Raph bowed to them, and then they attacked. The two of them fought for several minutes, April’s spine tensing tighter and tighter.
“He’s showing off,” Splinter said, when there was no audio but the jazzy music. “The other guy’s helping.”
“Showing off is good, right?” Mikey asked, sounding worried.
“Mm.” Splinter made a noncommittal noise.
There was a collective wince as the other guy scored a hit with the mace and knocked Raph back into the wall, and another one when the sharp spiky tail-thing slammed into his knee and sent him down. They all saw him pound the floor twice and grin up at his opponent, starting to haul himself up using the wall of the cage.
“So there’s rules here,” Donnie mused.
The alien knight kicked Raph in the chest and knocked him to the floor.
“Or not,” Donnie said, voice sounding far away.