Hello, Shinni here. I finally bring you the Mamadusa-moments oneshots I was talking about... six months ago:D Pfffft:p Currently I have only written two of these, but hopefully there'll be more later:)
And now I'm going to tell you that I don't own Soul Eater. I know you all would want me to, but I don't.

Lovechild

Crona was six. She was a sickeningly skinny child, a miserable sight. She was an insecure creature, full of fear and uncertainty, always averting her eyes to the ground, and waiting for orders. She was the child of the beautiful witch Medusa, and her servant. Medusa was not at all motherly, she did not love her child. To her, children were test subjects and research, barely even human.
"Medusa-sama..."
"Hnn?"
Crona fidgeted and couldn't bear to look at her mother. She was a fearsome person with a piercing look. She had complete control over her child, and she abused her power whenever she could.
"Am I truly your child, Medusa-sama?"
Medusa hmphd and turned back to her work. She didn't like being interrupted when working. She was writing notes about black blood, researching the possibilities of having a weapon inside the meister's body, it's pros and cons. The latest test results hadn't been good.
"Sometimes I wonder", she muttered.
Crona shifted her weight. Her mother was a cold and cruel person, and it was not wise to interrupt her work. But something had been bothering Crona for weeks, and she wanted to know.
"Then, you are my mother. But who is my father?"
Medusa stiffened. Her pen stopped scratching the paper and her golden eyes glazed. The left corner of her mouth twitched once, twice. Crona felt her own pulse race up and she swallowed hard. This kind of reaction from Medusa-sama was never good.
"That fool! That insufferable idiot!" she suddenly shouted. She did not look at Crona, she had closed her eyes in rage and was gripping her pen so hard it cracked.
"Never ask of him again!"

And Crona didn't. It was Medusa-sama who kept digging him up.

Crona was seven, ten, eleven and thirteen.
"I can't believe you're really my work of labour. If only it were possible, I'd say that you deliberately picked all your genes from your father."
"Your face is like a copy of his."
"He still wants my forgiveness, that's why he passed his eyes to you. He is begging even beyond the grave! That look of a lost puppy, it makes me sick. He is groveling right in front of me, with his child."
"He left you to haunt me, that weak excuse of a man. Get out of my sight! GET OUT!"

Crona never once heard a nice word of her father. Some were less mean, others horrible. She never found out why her mother hated her father so passionately, why her eyes filled with such rage everytime she remembered him, what she had done to him, and what he had done to her, to create such a devoted contempt that would last and burn with bright red flame even after a decade. Most of all, she wanted to know why she had beared a child to the man she hated and despised. What had been their relationship and circumstances? Had it been an accident? How could it have been an accident?
Crona could not ask, because her mother had forbidden her from asking about her father.

Crona was fifteen. Her periods had never started, because her fat percentage was too low. She had uneven pink hair, an apologetic face and a quiet voice. She was a timid girl, a terribly unsure child and compleltely dependant on her mistress, her mother, Medusa-sama. She had been raised to be a loyal servant and spy, an ultimate weapon, and she had become a strong fighter. She wielded Ragnarök, the legendary sword, and in her veins the blood was black.

"Crona! Over here", Medusa called. She had been working on something for a while, mostly in evenings. Crona hadn't asked what it was, because she was afraid of the answer. Crona stepped in to the room where her mother was sitting at a desk, in her arms she had something black and white.
"Yes, Medusa-sama?"
Crona's mother waved her daughter to come closer and rose from the chair she had been sitting on. Behind her, on the desk, was a sewing machine. Obediently, Crona came closer and stopped five respectful steps away from her mistress and mother.
"Put this on."
Obediently Crona took off her clothes and changed to the dress her mother had made. So this was the project she had been working on? Crona had been waiting for something – more painful. Not that she was complaining, her old clothes had gotten a little too small. The shirt used to be long-sleeved, but was now between long and three quarters.
The hem of this dress reached to the ankles. It was a simple, black, tight dress with a tall white collar and cuffs. There was really nothing much to say about it.
"Is it good? Too tight or loose anywhere?"
Crona shook her head. She wouldn't have said anything even if there had been a flaw in the dress. Medusa nodded. Suddenly her look softened.
"Your mother used to wear a similar dress when she was younger."
Crona had never seen Medusa in a dress like this. She usually wore her hooded overall or a doctor's coat.
"He made it for me – your father."
Crona expected another outrage, and was surprised when instead Medusa stayed silent and just smiled. Her smile was tiny, but the ones who had only seen her anger and contempt, it was obvious. It was like a bright light shining in the blackest of nights. Medusa swept invisible dust off Crona's shoulders.
"He was good at sewing."
Crona thought she saw Medusa's eyes glisten, but was sent away before she could be sure. From behind the door she heard a heavy sigh.

This was the first and last time Crona heard anything nice about her father.

Seriosly, who is Crona's father? I wanna know! Does the manga tell? I've only seen the anime...
Oh yeah, and I totally didn't come up with the name Mamadusa. I take no credit.