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solidgesso-writing · 1 year

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The man is ashen and soaked. Beneath his expensive coat, he looks like a waterlogged mushroom.

I nudge him with the tip of my boot. When I get no response, I kick him hard enough to hurt, but he stays silent.

I take that as my cue. Even if he's still breathing, the freezing rain and the blood leaking out of his shoulder will finish him soon enough, and there is nothing to stop me from going through his pockets. They're nice pockets, sturdily sewn and full of money.

I'm wedging my hand under his back to try to reach his seat pockets when I notice his eyes are open. "Gaaughwk," I say, falling on my ass in the mud.

"Please," he says. "Will you help me?"

[[MORE]]

He is more articulate and composed than I am, clammy with hypothermia and shock while bleeding out in the mud. He must have had lessons.

Well. In the face of nobility, I find it within myself to rise to the occasion. I position myself so the streetlight is directly behind my head, giving me an angelic glow while backlighting and obscuring my features. I wipe my muddy hand on his coat so it is clean as I cradle his sculpted jaw. Tenderly, I smile into his eyes and whisper, "No."

He relaxes, like an asshole. I give up trying to get my hand underneath him and just shove him over. His back pockets contain some small sentimental items. Normally, I wouldn't bother with knick knacks, but you never know with the miscellany of the rich. A kid's arts n crafts macaroni plate could be glittered with diamond dust. It just doesn't make sense to leave anything behind.

Through it all, the man is calm. He only rouses a bit when I get up. His hand is slimy and cold on my shin, and I'm pretty sure he's getting blood on my pants. I stoop to gently detach him.

"Shh," I say kindly. I project the most soothing aura I can. Help is on the way. "Don't worry. I'm going to get up and leave, and I'm not going to come back. I won't contact anyone for you, either."

The fucker relaxes again, hand sliding off my leg to rest on his well-formed chest. He even closes his eyes.

Here is a man who pays no attention to the words people say and coasts on vibes alone. I suppose that's how you get ahead when you're wealthy. Reputation is everything when there's only three thousand of you.

We of the hoi polloi, I am sad to say, have neither the luxury of relying on someone's honor nor maintaining honor for ourselves. That's why I go ahead and take his shoes too.

------

My name is Nastasia. No one calls me that. They call me Nasty.

I haven't done anything to deserve that nickname. Nothing that wasn't provoked, anyway. But I don't fight it. It's useful.

For example, when I go to the fence in my building, she doesn't try to fuck me over more than twice. She knows if she wastes my time, I'll go the extra mile to return the favor.

"Why'd you even take these? The leather's soaked through and it's already stinking up my place," she says.

I smile. "It was a gamble, but you never know with rich boys."

"The shoelaces are capped with titanium, and that's about all they're worth. No one's ever wearing these again." She keeps her eyes on the sodden shoes, but I can see her torso turn towards me a little. "Be honest, Nasty. You just didn't like the look of him, did you?"

My smile settles into a smirk. "He was handsome enough."

"You really didn't like him." The fence grins. She'll give me a fair deal now. The entertainment value of Nasty being nasty will save me a little haggling.

That's good, since I don't get much practice. I'm not a mugger or robber; I'm just not stupid enough to leave free money lying in the street. When I do collect, I usually just take cash to avoid the trouble of liquidating goods. That's why I don't see the fence often enough to remember her name.

----

The man walking next to Lisa looks familiar. I ruthlessly suppress my fight or flight response as Lisa looks around for me.

When she spots me, she comes all the way over before greeting me. I wouldn't want to call for Nasty in a crowded cafe either.

To her credit, she doesn't hold back once she's in front of me. "Nasty! Nasty, it's so good to see you. This is my business partner, Jacque."

I stand and shake the hand of the waterlogged mushroom from Tuesday night. He looks more haggard than he did bleeding out in the mud; I guess expensive, sped-up healing takes a lot out of you.

"Angel," he says.

I smile tightly. "Close. My name is Nasty." I give his hand a few more vigorous shakes to see if he flinches. There aren't any bandages on his right shoulder, but that doesn't mean it's completely healed internally.

He does wince, but he doesn't let go of my hand. "You're the angel that found me a few days ago, the one who called the med evac for me."

Ugh, someone called med evac for him.

"You needed med evac a few days ago? How terrible," I say. "I'm afraid we haven't met, though." Even if he thinks whoever stole his money also called the med evac, I also took his shoes, so my plan of action remains deny deny deny.

He blinks. "We have met, but you also don't think it was terrible that I needed med evac."

What the fuck. I shift my hand so I'm grabbing his wrist and twist his palm upwards. On his finger, set into the underside of one of his rings, is the smallest lie detector I have ever seen.

I'm making Lisa pay extra for this.

I grab his hand again, squeezing even more aggressively, and tell him, "I'm so glad you made it here with the earthquake and tornadoes coming up and down the street. The queue will move quickly, and we'll be sitting inside in no time at all."

Jacque looks around the perfectly calm cafe, which we are already inside, with unflattering surprise. He looks back at me and slowly extracts his hand.

What an idiot.

Lisa looks distressed. "Maybe you've run into each other at the bazaar. Nasty sells music," she tells Jacque. "I know you've been sponsoring a new salon."

"How did you do that?" he demands, ignoring the lifeline Lisa has thrown him. He sits as she tugs him down beside her.

I sit too, so the hovering server will approach. I feel like ordering something expensive. "I exude a heavy magnetic field. Anything relying on waves often fluxes around me."

He visibly struggles with whether or not to believe me. I ignore him in favor of telling the server that I want the honeysuckle sorbet. Lisa winces, but all this is her fault, and she can afford it.

When the server leaves, we look at each other in silence.

#my writing #writing #fiction #short fiction #left unfinished

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dreamiesdotcom · 3 years

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celestial | h.rj

Summary: To attribute full sight and still have the ability to describe things to someone who's never seen them means that you've felt the world deeper than anybody else.

Word count: 2164

a/n: idk whats up with me and midnights

Renjun's first question goes like this: "What does the pool look like?"

Naturally, Jeno panics; how do you explain a pool to someone who's never seen it? He's been so used to seeing it on a daily that he didn't even pay mind to the details. He debates on describing a rectangle, and then describing the waters, and then whatever the hell his 12-year-old mind could come up with. Naturally, he fails.

For him, you saved everything that day. You grabbed Renjun's hand, intertwining your fingers before grazing the water. "Do you feel that?"

"What exactly am I supposed to feel?"

"The water. Do you feel that constant flow and the relaxing cold?" you laughed then, patient even for the moody boy. He huffs out his cheeks and nods, you let go of his hands. "That's blue, Renjun. The water reflects the sky, and a pool is like a little ocean. An ocean is like a world filled with blue."

He tries to think of it, vast and endless fields of freedom. He couldn't, though; all he's known about the sky is that it was blue, and that blue is associated with sadness. He takes advantage of the fact that someone's willing to answer his question, and he asks again, "Is it scary?"

"Mhm, for some, it is. I'll let you in a secret, come here." You nod, and then he tilts his head to the side. He hears a splash, and doesn't expect it once he hears your voice after — "I'm actually scared of swimming pools."

"Didn't you just go in?"

"No, that was Jeno. I'm here." You poked a finger on his left arm, and he could tell you're wearing that cheeky grin. His stance softens. "I'm just beside you."

###

It was morning, the sun was shining and the scorching summer heat was kinder than everyone expected it to be. Somewhere around the room, Chenle and Jisung successfully trapped a sleeping Jaemin in a domino prison, Jeno's trying to convince them why this is such a bad idea and Mark is getting scolded by Hyuck. The TV fades to background noise, the plan of cooking extra pancakes long forgotten. Renjun leans his head on your shoulders, "What does the night look like?"

It felt like an odd question to ask as the sun is halfway to its peak, but Renjun's curiosity piques in no time. You hum for a bit to think, "The night is very different to a lot of people."

Very different for a lot of people... yeah, many things in the world are like that. He figured it out years ago when you told him about the swimming pools, and the airplanes, and the rollercoasters. He figured it out when you talked to him about books, when you taught him about colors, about shapes.

He still doesn't know what different looks like, and what importance it holds.

"Hyuck loves the night. You hear his laughter, right? He likes going on adventures and feeling the wind. I think, to him, the night looks like a harsh passing of the breeze you felt when we went out on a drive." He takes in your words. These days, he gets better with understanding metaphors — he learned that blue is not just a shade of sadness, and that sky doesn't always mean blue — he understands your words better. "But me... I just sleep. I don't like the night very much."

"Huh?"

"Have you ever been in a silent place, Jun?" you asked softly. "Not the silence you can fill with music. I'm talking about blank, emotionless silence; the one that echoes. The one that haunts you. The one that makes you feel alone. That's what the night looks like for me."

Renjun wanted to nod, and he wanted to say yes because he's been in that silent place for the longest time. It's all he's ever known, and it's all that he's ever seen; it's the only thing he sees — black, echoing, loud nothingness.

He didn't, though.

Instead, he asks a question, "What do you think about the night?"

"I think it's a question." comes quickly in a reply. "I still don't know how a nightmare town gives life to dreamers, but it does. It's a question I do not want to know the answer to."

Renjun knows of the stars and the sky, and you'd tried to explain their light by telling him what blinding comfort was — think of all your loneliest moments being washed away by the fire I told you about, and that's pretty much it, 'jun — and he knows of the big, gazing moon that changes shape now and then. It's what makes up most of the night, Jeno had said, so he knows that too.

What he doesn't know is why it seems so vicious to you, and what he doesn't know is that if he could see, would he have chosen to close his eyes to not witness such complex sadness.

###

It's at times like this when solace blooms in his heart. The rest of the world seems to be fast asleep, but he's so awake, so aware, so alive. You sit beside him, yet again brought him to the place you and Jaemin frequents in, and he ignores the jealous feeling in his chest. It's at times like this that Renjun realizes he's falling.

"Your smile must look beautiful," he wonders out loud. "Can you please tell me how your smile looks like?"

"Me?" You replied nonchalantly. Your chuckle passes as cold as the night breeze, and he wonders how the poet would write themselves as poetry. The blankness of your words dulls the hope in his eyes, "I... don't like it. My eyes... they always look tired. I always look tired. I hate myself."

For a moment, he dwells on his thoughts — Jaemin's brought you here, and you're more frequent here together, and he's seen how you looked against the glimmering stars. Did he fall in love? Did he want to keep you all to himself, like a little secret? Did he want to kiss you until all spite of yourself vanishes from your soul? Jaemin must've, Renjun knows. He knows because even blind, he's aware of how beautiful you truly are; not only he's heard it from his friends, but he feels it strongly. He couldn't see the city lights that he's heard of so many times, but he knows you shine brighter than them.

Hell, he couldn't even see you — he couldn't even see anything, but he knows you do. He knows you are. You think he's wrong, that he's more gorgeous, but he reaches for your hands.

He doesn't know what beautiful looks like. He just knows that it's breath-taking, soul-stealing, ethereal, and you.

"I think you smile like euphoria. I think you smile like the sound of music boxes, those with lovely tunes," he says, eyes closed and breathing fast. "I think... "

'I love you.' oh, how he wished it's easy to say those words. He purses his lips. "...you're one of the most beautiful people I've ever met, right next to my mother."

Beside him, you chuckled and held his hands. "You're sleepy."

"I am. Right now, I'm sleepy and I know you're beautiful." He squeezes your hands, looking at the direction he knows you're at. He lets out a shaky smile, "Tomorrow, I will be wide awake and I'd still think you're stunning."

It's at times like this that Renjun realizes he's falling. It's at times like this that he fears how much he can't wait to crash.

###

Renjun's biggest fear among many is that he'll never feel like this again.

He fell too hard. He fell too quickly and too harshly and he's only noticing it now when the impact makes itself known and he couldn't stand up. He knew that he was scared, he knew that he was afraid then, but only now did he know what it truly meant to be terrified; when he's sitting beside you on the roof, feeling the wind pass by, and he couldn't help but wonder what if it's not us, but I can never love the person meant for me because they're not you?

It's a silly thing, maybe. He did not believe in many things and fate is not one of the few he believed in. He thinks that love is something you choose for yourself — it's something you decide on your own. He thinks that the only problem in 'not being made for each other' is that you relied too much on what the stars wrote, and didn't write your story on your own. What even are these stars, aside from unknown giant speckles of light? Why should they decide someone's life?

He adores them, he knows, and now he can't help his curiosity: "How do the stars look like tonight?"

"They're bright. Very bright."

He swoons at the content sigh you let out before speaking, and he lets himself indulge. It's at moments like this when he lets himself feel, where he relishes in the adoration he nestles.

"They ought to be," he whispers to himself. "They gotta be bright if they're trying to outshine you."

Giggles fades to laughter, and genuine words burn forced. He could almost taste the bitterness of your words, "You haven't seen me."

Does he need to?

"I don't need to," he concludes. "There's so much more to you than what I couldn't see."

Because it's true. All those years you held this something in you, a piece of an old soul and an unknown heavenly something you ignored just so you could spite yourself. You had this way with words, this certain understanding of the world that he's never found in someone else. Renjun thinks that to attribute full sight and still have the ability to describe things to someone who's never seen them means that you've felt the world deeper than anybody else, and to know that the world is cruel but still choose to keep your eyes open is something that should be admired.

Right now, you're the closest to him you've ever been, and he bathes in the feeling of your lips hovering above his.

"I'm a mess, Huang Renjun."

"You're an art in progress," he whispers back, eyes fluttering shut as you close what little distance you have left. "But even half-made, you're a masterpiece."

###

If somebody asked Renjun if he ever saw this coming, he'd say "Why the fuck would you even ask me that question?"

Alright, jokes aside, never in his mind did he think life would turn out this way. First of all, a lot of unexpected things have already happened, but he's stubborn so of course, that doesn't convince him. He should've felt it coming, but of course, he refused to. After all, why would he even think of his best friend laying beside him on his bed, talking about random things all night in every way domestic? Why would he even think of you two being together, whispering sweet nothings to each other? He's guilty of doing those, yes, but that doesn't mean that he knows the answer. In a spur of the moment decision, he asks another question — "Why'd you choose me?"

"You're the only one who wanted me—IT'S A JOKE! Hey, hey, I was only kidding," you laugh, finding so many things entertaining about the fact that he's unamused. He preens at the soft kiss you placed on the edge of his lips, and then even more when you whisper, "You're the only one I wanted."

Normally, this is where his heart would do those weird flips and antics. This is the time where he'd feel like he's in another world, like he's invincible and oh so lucky to be thoroughly adored by the person he loves so much.

It's only that sometimes, Renjun feels unreasonable. He's sensitive and insecure and it's so much easier to find flaws in himself than to appreciate the things that made him who he is. Sometimes, he needs to ask some things he's not exactly sure of, things much like: "Even with... even with my eyes... like this?"

And it's you, and it's never dull when it's with you, everything is always beautiful and poetic. He doesn't know where that voice was coming from, but he hears it in his mind, and it tells him to trust you.

A butterfly kiss on each of his eyelids. A hand warm on the top of his hands. The rain pours heavily outside but it's muffled enough that it's calming, and all that he can think of is warm, so warm, so loved. You hold your foreheads close and keep them close for seconds, before you press a soft kiss on his lips, "Your eyes are beautiful, my love."

And for once, Renjun's not afraid to ask — "How do they look like?"

Beautiful and so much more.

"As if something straight out of a magical dream, because you are. You are magical," you whisper, breathing in slow intervals. "You are the closest to celestial a human could be."

#nct dream #nct dream drabbles #nct dream blurbs #nct dream scenarios #nct dream imagines #nct dream x reader #nct dream one shots #nct dream fluff #renjun #renjun drabbles #renjun scenarios #renjun blurbs #renjun timestamps #renjun angst #renjun fluff #renjun imagines #blind!renjun

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chuuyasnumber1simp · 4 years

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Pained Dreams- Senku x Fem! Reader

a/n: sorry this more focuses on Senku and not really him and readers relationship :/

also i kinda feel like Senku would be really dumb when it comes to emotions and his own problems

Genre: hurt/comfort, a bit of angst. Fluffy confession at the end :)

Warnings: hints at past trauma, hints at depression if you squint, panic attacks, PTSD, Gen being emotionally smart, Senku being emotionally stunted

Word Count: 3518

3rd Person POV:

Senku was a logical person.

He knew that he had PTSD, he knew that these nightmares were messing up his sleep schedule and quality of sleep.

He simply chose to ignore it.

He was building mankind from the ground up, in the stone age. He was chief of Ishigami village. He couldn’t take a break, not now, and not ever. Not until civilization was back to the way it was before. Besides, would it be fair to burden anybody but himself with his issues?

They were his and his alone. He was strong. He couldn’t let them see even a moment of weakness. They needed to know that he would be there for all of them. Even though he didn’t show it, he cared for each and every one of them, right down to Ginro. And though he would never dream of telling her while they were both so busy, he cared for y/n too. Senku often dreamt of her, but never in a dirty way.

He dreamt of fleeting glances and soft touches, the gentle caress of one’s hands upon another’s face, just merely being there for one another. If that were his reality, it would have been enough.

But it wasn’t.

So he kept pushing himself to do better, accomplish more, do more. Hoping that one day, he could achieve his rose-tinted dream.

Now his dreams were all the same. The same scene playing on a loop, but getting worse each time.

Tsukasa kills him.

Tsukasa kills him painfully.

Senku doesn’t wake up.

Taiju and Yuzihira have to bury his body.

He fails.

He fails his friends, fails his father, fails mankind, fails his beloved y/n. All he could hear was the sound of Tsukasa’s staff cracking against his neck. Pain, and then darkness.

You failed them. You failed everyone.

Senku jerks himself awake, sweat coating his body. He just barely stifles a scream, instead choosing to grip his neck, as if assuring himself that he was still alive. His vermillion eyes darted around the room, The darkness in the hut meant that it was still night, but instead of silence feeling comforting as it usually did, it suffocated him. Wrapped around his throat and choked him, until all that consumed his thoughts was the possibility of danger awaiting him outside the little hut he shared with the h/c girl. Senku’s breaths were short and ragged, on the verge of hyperventilating. He tried to breathe slowly, but he couldn’t suck any air in- he couldn’t breathe.

His whole body shook with the effort of calming himself down, the last thing he wanted was to rouse the sleeping body next to him. Slowly sliding out of his makeshift sleeping bag, he creeped out of the hut and into shadowed woods surrounding him. He needed to be somewhere quiet, somewhere his raging thoughts would shut up for just a moment.

He didn’t know how long he walked, and he didn’t know when he started hearing footsteps. They were everywhere and nowhere at once, and he didn’t know what to do. He was unarmed and alone, though his pursuer probably knew that. They got closer, and right as they were within fifteen feet away from him they stopped.

Senku whirled around suspecting Magma or worse- Tsukasa Empire agents, but he stopped when he was met with a familiar face.

“You don’t look too good Senku-chan,”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“How long has this been going on?”

Gen and Senku sat beneath a tree, faces illuminated by the moon.

“About a year now,”

Senku could feel Gen’s gaze on him, yet he couldn’t bring himself to meet his friend’s eyes.

“You’ve been dealing with panic attacks and PTSD for a year and didn’t tell anyone?”

Senku drew his knee’s up to his chest and wrapped his bandaged arms around them.

“I couldn’t bother anyone with my useless problems, not when we’re all so busy,”

“Doe’s y/n know?”

Senku sucked in a breath at his crush’s name.

“No,”

Gen sighed and turned towards the stars.

“You know, for someone who’s an incredibly smart scientist, you can be really dumb Senku-chan,”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The two stayed as they were for many hours, Gen never speaking, but his presence was soothing. Without using words, he showed that he was someone that Senku could rely on, someone that would be there for him. Senku may not have shown it, but he is forever grateful that he happened to meet the mentalist. His quiet strength was something Senku admired, and Senku knew he too cared more than he let on.

It was nice.

Senku didn’t know how nice it could be to have somebody else be by his side when he felt so cold, so alone. Scared, even.

As if he could hear the other’s thoughts, Gen spoke.

“Being scared doesn't make you weak, Senku. It is in human nature to be scared of something. Without fear we are foolish and reckless. However, while fear may keep us alive, it doesn't allow us to truly live either,”

Senku snorted. “You sound some weird old man trying to give me advice he read on an inspirational poster,”

Gen shrugged his shoulders. “It’s true. How long do you honestly think you can keep living like this?”

“As long as i have too,”

“We both know you can’t live like this forever. Everyone has a breaking point, Senku. You just haven’t hit yours yet,”

“And when did you get all serious?”

“When did you start acting so stupid?”

Gen paused for a moment before continuing.

“So how long have you liked y/n?”

Senku choked on hair, practically hacking up a lung and his friends out of the blue inquiry.

“I do not like y/n. She’s a great friend, but we’re nothing more than that,”

Gen narrowed his eyes.

“Senku-chan, I'm a mentalist. Identifying and analyzing human behavior is my specialty. Did you think I wouldn't notice?”

Senku swallowed thickly, not knowing how to respond.

“Actually, i’m pretty sure everyone’s noticed. Even Ginro,”

“Yeah, right,”

“How could we not? You look at her like she’s the sun. Whenever she helps you, or is just in your general vicinity, your grin gets a thousand times wider. We all see the way you look at her softly when you think she isn’t looking. The way you look at her like you would walk to the moon and back for her. It’s honestly painful,”

The red eyed boy scowled at those words.

Gen ignored his glares and continued. “It’s not painful because you’re so obviously in love with her,” Senku bristled at the word ‘love’. “It’s painful because she looks at you the same way, like you could kill someone, and she’d still be irrefutably in love with you. But you’re both so stuck in your own heads you can’t see it,”

“How am i supposed to tell her? No matter how you think she looks at me, neither of us know for sure if she likes me. I’d rather keep it to myself and live with it than ruin our relationship by shoving possibly unrequited feelings onto her,”

Gen turned towards the stars once more.

“i don’t have an answer to that. That’s just a risk you’ll have to take,”

Once the sun had risen well over the horizon, Gen silently helped Senku up and walked back to the village.

As they approached they heard the shouts, both concerned and angry, neither a nice thing to come back to.

“They couldn’t have gotten far! Senku wouldn’t allow himself to be captured when we’re this far into our work!”

Senku identified that voice as none other than y/n, and he let out a soft chuckle at the sound of her defending him so resolutely.

Gen wasn’t so lucky, as the pair heard Kohaku say:

“I never really trusted Asagiri anyway. He’s a lying snake and he probably took Senku back to Tsukasa!”

“My my Kohaku-chan, i’m rather hurt by your words,”

Kohaku hurled a spear past Gen’s head and he flinched as it just barely grazed his cheek.

“Where did you take Senku?” She growled, holding her knife up to his throat.

“Relax! I didn't take him anywhere. In fact, he’s the one who dragged me out at the crack of dawn to go look for some plant he needed for some science thing. And after grueling hours of looking he didn’t even find it!”

Senku made his appearance at the end of Gen’s statement, hoping no one could see through their facade.

“It’s not my fault you kept complaining so long we didn’t actually get to look,”

Senku locked eyes with y/n, and had to resist tearing his eyes away from her intense gaze.

When she came to Ishigami Village, exhausted and dehydrated after somehow escaping the Tsukasa Empire, she was scared to meet anyone’s gaze. She never expanded on why she left exactly, but the haunted look in her eyes when she arrived said all they needed to know. Now, Senku found it hard to keep eye contact without squirming under her scrutinizing stare. Her e/c eyes conveyed that she knew he was lying, but knew not to bring it up here in front of everyone.

Finally, she looked back at Gen and gave him a wide grin.

“It’s fine! Just tell someone next time! We were all so worried about Senku. We can’t have our favorite scientist disappearing on us now can we?”

Gen seemed to also take the hint that she saw straight through them, but wasn’t about to expose them right here.

“R-Right. Sorry Y/N-chan,”

Once the crowd dispersed and everyone quieted down, Y/N stomped over to Senku.

Gen looked between the girl and the boy, and quickly excused himself.

Senku stared at the ground, refusing to meet her gaze. As neared him, he silently prepared himself for answering the questions she was about to ask.

Your POV:

As much as you wanted to be mad at the scientist, you just couldn’t. The bags under his eyes were apparent, like he’d been out all night. Guilt and worry flashed in his scarlet depths, and he looked everywhere but you the closer you got to him.

He shifted from foot to foot, and you never thought you’d see the Senku Ishigami nervous.

“Look, Y/N—“

His sentence was cut off by your arms wrapping around his sides and gripping him with so much force he was scared he would pass out.

“Don’t ever do that again! Do you know how worried I was?”

He stiffened at your touch, not knowing how to handle your body pressed against his, your face obscured by his chest. Slowly, he lowered his arms until they wrapped around you, and rocked back and forth.

“I know. I’m sorry,” He mumbled, still not quite sure where this was going or what you were going to do.

“I know you and Gen were lying, Senku,”

Senku took a sharp breath in, mentally preparing for this conversation.

“But, for the sake of my sanity, we are not going to talk about that right now. Whatever was so important that you had to leave during the middle of the night with Gen and come back after sunrise can wait until this evening. For now, promise me you won’t give me a heart attack by not being here when I wake up?”

His heart clenched at the thought of you waking up in a panic because he was nowhere to be found. He wrapped his pinky around yours, just like you would have done in the modern world.

“I pinky promise,”

You smiled and pushed off him, going to join Ginro, Kinro, and Kohaku in training.

Time Skip brought to you by me being lazy

Senku knew he was being immature by avoiding you and consequently, the conversation you wanted to have with him, but he just couldn’t bring himself to lay himself bare.

But, unfortunately, life had other plans for him.

You watched Chrome and Senku joking around, both discussing science things that went right over your head. You were perfectly content watching them laugh, because when Senku came back, he didn’t look like his normal self.

You had only known him for about six months, but you knew someone who wasn’t doing well when you saw them.

You watched Senku elbow Chrome, and Chrome elbowing him back. Senku elbowed back harder, but Chrome, instead of continuing to elbow the scientist, he jokingly chopped Senku on the back of the neck.

You watched with horror as all the color drained from Senku’s face as he went completely rigid. His eyes seemed unfocused, like he didn’t recognize anyone or anything.

You’d seen a lot of emotions on Senku’s face, but you’d never seen this one.

You never thought you’d see pure terror paint his face.

In a few short moments, his breathing grew more and more ragged, and you immediately ran to his aid.

Chrome was shaking Senku’s shoulder, trying to bring him out of it.

“Senku? Senku, please talk to me man!” Chrome turned His frantic gaze on you. “Please help him! I don’t know how!”

But of course, you did.

You knew exactly what was happening to him, because you yourself had gone through it many times after leaving the Tsukasa Empire. Willing yourself to remain calm, you turned to Chrome.

“Go get Gen. Hurry please,”

Chrome shot off to wherever Gen was, but your focus was on the man having a panic attack in front of you.

“Senku? It’s going to be okay, i’m right here. Do you know who I am?”

Senku only nodded his head in response.

“Good, you're going to be okay. Do you know where you are?”

Senku took deeper breaths in a weak attempt at breathing normally.

“I-I’m at t-the village”

“That’s right, see, you’re safe here. I’m going to touch you okay?”

Once he nodded, You gently took his hand in yours and rubbed soothing circles on his back.

“How about we go somewhere that’s not so open. I’m going to take you back to the hut okay?”

Once more the only response he managed was a weak nod, so hand in hand, you guided him back to where you both slept at night.

“Try matching my breathing. Deep breath in, and deep breath out. Can you do that for me?

After getting away from all the prying eyes, he finally started breathing normally, and wasn’t shaking nearly as much as before.

Gen knocked twice on the outside announcing his arrival, then stepped in, carefully not making too much noise.

“How is he doing?”

“I'm right here you know,” Senku croaked from beside you.

“I’m guessing you want an explanation?” Gen settled himself in front of you, grey depths darting between you and the clearly exhausted man next to you.

“An explanation would be appreciated,”

Gen looked at Senku for approval, and when he nodded, he explained it all. The PTSD, why, and even the nightmares.

By the end, Senku was asleep on your shoulder, and if not for the severity of the situation, you would have been a blushing mess.

“So he’s been dealing with all of this for a year? And he hasn’t told anyone?”

“I only found out last night, after what I'm assuming a nightmare woke him up and he went for a walk in the woods. The sound of someone walking around woke up and upon seeing the state he was in, I followed him,”

You only hummed in response, both being angry at him for keeping something so serious to himself, and being sad at what he had to go through.

“I know it’s hard Y/N, but please don’t be mad at him. He did what he thought was best, and however misguided he may have been, I don't think being mad at him is going to help in the slightest,”

“I know,” Looking over at the man twitching in his sleep, you could imagine what his dreams must be like. Going against your better judgment, even with Gen sitting right across from you, you softly ran your fingers through his hair, hoping to provide even the slightest bit of comfort.

“I know how much you love him. It must hurt seeing him in so much pain,”

“I know why he did it, and i can’t be mad at him for it. But I just wish he would let me be there for him, the way he’s here for all of us. I do love him, but how could i possibly confess to him, especially now that i know what he’s been going through?”

“That’s for you to decide,”

“I’ve done a good job of hiding things thus far. Not even you know everything about me. Only he knows how i think, what i think,”

Gen turned his gaze into the man who stopped twitching even at the minimal amount of comfort you offered.

“But you also feel deeply, and that is difficult to hide,”

He turned back to you. “My advice? Just be there for him. I know he cares deeply for you, he told me himself. All you need to do now is tell him, but also show him how much you care. After all, words without actions are empty,”

As Gen turned to leave, you scoffed.

“When did you get so serious?”

He stopped just at the entrance.

“It’s funny,” He locked eyes with you once more. “He said the exact same thing.”

Another Timeskip~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

No one talked about the incident.

You knew they did it out of consideration, but in all honesty the atmosphere changed and it was very awkward. Chrome stopped touching Senku all together, and Kohaku spoke like he was made of porcelain and he might break if she said the wrong thing.

Until finally, Senku snapped.

Everyone was sitting around the fire, except instead of the usual lively chatter, there was sparse and dry small talk, and Senku couldn’t take it anymore.

“Alright listen up. I’m not going to die if you touch me Chrome, and you all don’t need to treat me like some fragile thing that might die if you say the wrong thing. I’m still the same Senku you idiots,”

Kohaku was the first to speak. “We would all rather if you let us be here for you Senku. Even though you don’t say it, we all know you care about us. It shows in your actions, but how could you keep something like this from us? We’re your friends and we’re here to help you!”

Suika shook her head vigorously, and Chrome shouted “yeah!”

Senku shook his head in mock annoyance.

“Yeah whatever. Just don’t touch my neck dummies. Are we all good now?”

Everyone nodded, but it was you who responded.

“Yeah. We’re all good,”

Senku gave you a smile so soft you swore you face became hotter than the crackling in front of you, and you quickly excused yourself. Maybe a brisk walk in the nighttime air would calm you down.

Finding a nice quiet spot overlooking the river, you plopped yourself down on the grass, gazing at the moon's reflection on the silver water.

Leaves crunching behind you alerted you to someone else’s presence, and you craned your neck backwards only to lock eyes with the man that made you this nervous in the first place.

“Hey,”

He sat down next to you and shifted his weight into his hands and leaned back, gazing at the stars.

You knew that this was it. This was the moment. The area was beautiful, the timing perfect.

“I think i-“

“i wanted to say-“

you both chucked at interrupting each other, and you spoke first.

“You go ahead,”

Senku took a deep breath.

“Thank you. For everything. I never thought i’d ever have a panic attack, let alone in the middle of the village,”

“Of course! You were there for me whenever i was having a bad day when i first arrived, so it’s only natural i’d be there for you,”

“And I…” Senku’s voice got quieter during the rest of his sentence.

“Hmm?”

Quietly, he turned to you and took your hands in his.

“I like you a lot more than just a simple crush. The word sounds too childlike to describe how I feel about you. If you want me to put it in words, I would tell you that I love you. I love you Y/N, ten billion percent,”

You grinned wide and his confession, and leaned forward to capture his lips in yours.

“I love you too, Senku,”

“Ohoho, am i interrupting something?” Gen said, appearing from behind a tree a few feet away.

You lept away from Senku like he had the plague, but he only chuckled at Gen.

“Yeah, you kind of are,”

Gen gave the both of you a sly grin. “I’ll leave the two of you to it then,”

Senku grabbed you and kissed you again, and you could feel him smiling against your lips.

And somehow, you knew everything would be okay.

#senku x reader #senku ishigami x reader #dr. stone #dr. stone x reader

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ask-matchmaker-creativitwins · 4 years

Text

Remus: "Take six! Action!"

Patton?: "Deceit! It is so nice to see you today! I brought some brownies for us to share! Come sit down! I remember you said you wanted to talk to me about something?"

Deceit: "Oh... Okay, sure. Yes, I would like to talk to you about something..."

Patton?: ".........."

Deceit: "..........."

Patton?: "Um... well don't leave me hangin'! No need to be shy, just say what you're thinking."

Deceit: "Okay... I uh... I think that... we need to stop talking indefinitely!"

Roman: "Ugh, Deceit, come on-"

Deceit: "N-no, wait, i'm sorry! I didn't mean to say that. I meant to say that... I think that you're..."

Roman: "Just spit it out!"

Deceit: "-yyyyyes!"

Roman: "You think that I'm yes?"

Deceit: "No! Er, yes? I don't know."

Remus: "Cuuuut! This is getting kind of hard to watch, even for me..."

Roman: "Well, okay! That's a start! Granted, a really terrible one but it's a start."

Remus: "I don't know if that was better or worse than the last three, honestly."

Roman: "I mean jeez, I know that you're shy but this is getting a bit ridicul-"

Deceit: "Okay! It was bad! I get it! God, this is just... a waste of time! I already knew this wouldn't work, why am I so stupid?"

Remus: "Nonono, Deceit! Come on, don't go! We can try again!"

Deceit: "No! Scenario over! This was the final nail in the coffin!"

Roman: "Final nail? We just started! All you have to do is tell him the truth!"

Deceit: "I- I CA-... CAN-... argh! Just leave it alone!"

Remus: "-gasp- Ohhhh my god, I get it now! This is because that weird thing you do isn't it! Is that why you've been acting so defensive?"

Roman: "Wait, what? What weird thing?"

Remus: "Uhhh..."

Deceit: "...-sigh- Might as well tell him. I can't seem to hide it for the life of me."

Remus: "Okay! It's his lying impulse thing. Sometimes when he's threatened, he can't force himself to tell the truth about stuff, even when he wants to! I mean shit, dude nearly threw up every time he tried to imply that he cared about us!"

Deceit: "Remus!"

Remus: "What?! You did!"

Deceit: "Look, it's... hard to make my mouth say the words I want it to. For stuff like this, I mean. Heck, it's the reason I keep a journal in the first place, just to write down what I know I can't say."

Remus: "Well that and you're a dork."

Deceit: "Even speaking NORMALLY takes an effort sometimes but... being vulnerable like this? I've never had to do that before. I haven't- ugh, I HAVE been trying harder ever since Patton and I started talking but... I just can't do it, okay?... If I can't even tell him the truth about this then... what's the point?"

Roman: "Deceit, don't be so hard on yourself! Maybe speaking your mind is more difficult for you than most but so what?! That doesn't mean that you're not worthy of love!"

Deceit: "Hmph. You didn't seem to think that when you were chewing me out for it earlier."

Roman: "Huh?"

Deceit: "All of this giving him the cold shoulder and insisting i'm happy as friends!... I've been... I've been trying to confess for weeks, okay?! That's what happens when I try! I just start lying!"

Remus: "What?! You told us you weren't ever planning on confessing! You even wrote it in your journal!"

Deceit: "I changed my mind! I wasn't- Argh, I WAS lying to you, obviously!"

Roman: "We can't help you if you aren't honest with us, Deceit. If you knew this was a problem why didn't you say anything?"

Deceit: "I don't know... I just... I wanted to do this normally. Speaking confidently without relying on lying to protect myself... Why do you think i've been letting you two push me around all day? I thought... I thought that maybe it'd finally work out this time... -sigh- instead, all i've done is gone and humiliate myself."

Roman: "Deceit, i'm so sorry. We... never meant to make you feel humiliated over something you couldn't help. I just thought you got flustered easily is all! Apologies aside however, I'm glad you told us, because now we know what angle to work from here."

Deceit: "You're... You're still going to help me? After I haven't- hhhaven't-.... After I HAVE been lying to you all day?"

Roman: "Of course! While lying isn't my favorite thing in the world, helping true love to blossom is! Plus... you're my friend too."

Deceit: "....."

Remus: "M'kay, this is some cavity inducing shit but maybe we should get back to the drawing board on this one."

Roman: "Agreed! Let's ditch the stage for now! We'll just focus on finding a way for Deceit to speak his mind properly!"

#sanders sides #roman sanders #ts roman #ts the duke #deceit sanders #remus sanders #ts deceit #moceit #patton sanders #im not sure wether i like or dislike this one #but its already done so here ya go

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a-trainers-tale · 4 years

Note

(p.1) I'm Jan. I'm quite introverted and love doing this that indulge my creativity. I love animals. I just want to play with and protect them I can be quite stubborn. I'm polite and quiet on the surface but once I let you in I'm quite the jokester and am opinonated. I do tend to have a lot of anxiety (diagonosed with 2 panic disorders) so finding things or interests that calm me or comfort me is important. Mind you that all goes out the window if I see some kind of injustice. I tend to ....

(p.2) defend others far more than I defend myself. My hobbies are arts n' crafts , mbti/enneagram (INFP 4 here), animation (big supporter of self employed artists), movies. I do collect things of sentimental value. For a perfectionist I'm quite messy but when stressed (and well enough to be active) I can clean up quite a bit. My geeky nature can help me overcome my shy side if I find out we have similar interests. I can be quite insecure and sensitive. Passionate & a walking contridiction XD.

*(p.3) I just realized I forgot rule 2 XD. I like Pokemon because I love cute little animals/monsters and the bonds you forge with them. Why I'd be a trainer .... well, I don't think I'd be a successful one XD. If the games taught me anything is it's that I have a hard time seeing them fight and get hurt. However I'm surprisingly competitive. *raises hands* Like I said I'm a walking contradiction. I would not be a number one trainer but successful enough to quelch my secret ambitious side.

Thank you for opting to do the paid version! :D let me know if you don’t like anything I did and I can redo it :) I hope you like it!

Trainer class: Pokefan

You are pulled to Pokemon for different reasons than most other trainers. Your life does not revolve around battling with them, but living with them. You are a fan of Pokemon in every way, you love bonding with them and looking at how cute they are and bringing out their happiness which in turn brings out your own. You have an easy time relating to your pokemon and you love spending time with them since they never tire you out. You started off as a competitive trainer, but as you bonded with pokemon you decided to go a different direction. You and your pokemon enjoy a more casual life together and you are able to enjoy consuming products of your pokemon as well, giving you that outlet. Your relationship with your pokemon is solely fun and soothing, and they help you keep yourself more calm than you can when you are alone.

Starter: Chikorita

Your starter pokemon was chikorita! You bonded easily with chikorita as it is a very calm but stubborn pokemon. It is determined to constantly prove itself, but it also prefers to be at peace with those around it so it doesn't usually start fights on its own. Chikorita is more outgoing and feisty than you, so you often got in trouble because of it running off or messing with someone or another pokemon. Your love for chikorita grew stronger as you both grew up together and though it never did much intense battling, it still feels a strong urge to protect you from any possible threats and stay with you always.

Partner: Mienshao

Mienshao is a very powerful and very beautiful pokemon. It has a rather large competitive streak and likes to be the center of attention as often as possible. Mienshao acts as somewhat of a lightning rod for you, it pulls attention to itself and absorbs any stress that might come your way by taking it onto itself. It knows how much anxiety you experience, so it loves being able to help you in this way, though it might be somewhat indirect and a bit self serving. Mienshao loves you deeply and also loves that you give it so many opportunities to shine and show how amazing it is. Keep Mienshao close and rely it it as much as possible.

Team: Meganium (starter), Drampa, Musharna, Swalot, Venomoth

Hometown: Lilycove City, Hoenn

Your hometown is Lilycove City in the Hoenn region. Lilycove does not have a gym, which might have contibuted to your feelings of mild discomfort with battling and gym training. Lilycove does, however, have a contest hall that allowed you to experience the kind of creative pursuits present in contest training from an early age. Lilycove is rather peaceful but also has a lot of tourism due to the comfortable lifestyle, contest hall, and connection to the ocean.

Battle style: Contest trainer

You are not a traditional trainer in the sense that you do not seek out the usual battles and gym matches. What you do instead is train your pokemon to bring out their strengths for pokemon contests. These contests are meant to show a pokemon's cuteness, coolness, beauty, cleverness, and toughness. You use your creativity to develop outfits and routines that show how amazing your pokemon are and you work hard to make snacks and foods for your pokemon and training regimens that allow your pokemon to get better at what they do best. This works for you better than battling with your pokemon because you are able to engage in your creativity and competitiveness in a safer environment that doesn't involve your friends getting hurt.

Thank you so much!!!~

#pokemon #pokemon trainer #pokemon request #plumheart

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writing-royza · 5 years

Text

Tainted Blood, Tainted Soul: Chapter Twenty - Hunting the Hunter

A/N: Happy Sunday, everyone! I'm sorry for the delay; it was two busy weekends in a row, and I had no time at all during the week to write, followed by just a really bad week. Someday, I'm going to just get a hotel room somewhere in the city and spend the entire weekend doing absolutely nothing but recharging my mental batteries and writing fanfiction. But I'm back, feeling better, and I'm ready for you to enjoy Chapter Twenty!

I do not own FMA.

Chapter Twenty - Hunting the Hunter

CENTRAL MILITARY HEADQUARTERS, CENTRAL CITY

0843 HOURS, APRIL 23RD

Breda hung up the phone, sitting back in the chair with a frown of deep thought and a tingle of unease in the pit of his stomach. The call had not gone as he had anticipated or hoped… and that did not sit well with someone as used to thinking three moves in advance as he was.

"It could just be that there's a problem with the lines out to Ishval," Fuery suggested. He had pulled a chair over from the phone kiosk to the left so that he could listen to the call, and still sat leaned forward, his elbows on his knees. "They were only meant to be temporary ones, just until the military could run long-term lines out there."

Despite the plausibility of his explanation, he didn't sound confident.

"Yeah… but with the information we've got, I don't want to take chances." Breda folded his arms over his chest, still watching the phone with a concerned and perplexed frown. "Did Rebecca or Falman say whether they had had any luck getting in touch with them?"

Fuery shook his head. "Rebecca said that Riza had called her the day before they left, and promised to touch base once they got to Jadad, but there was no word after that." He shifted nervously in his chair. "You don't think that… well, maybe something went wrong with the truck? Like it broke down, or they had an… accident?"

"Hard to have an accident when the landscape is flat with hardly anything to run into," he answered dryly. "As for mechanical trouble, they're both resourceful enough to either fix anything that went wrong. If they had to abandon it, they would hike to whichever was closest - Jadad, or some Amestrian settlement." He rocked the chair back, still thinking. "If it were Jadad, and we can't get through, then neither can they. An Amestrian town wouldn't have the same problem."

He dropped the chair back to all four legs, and got to his feet with a stretch. "All things considered, if the Promised Day didn't kill them, a three day drive won't either. Once we can re-establish communications with Jadad, I bet you anything they'll be there and already hip-deep in work."

Fuery caught up quickly, falling into step beside him as they left the communications centre. "And what about the message we were trying to get to them?" he persisted. "They still need to know about that."

"We also still need to tell Grumman," Breda pointed out. They emerged into a hallway, joining the pedestrian flow of soldiers arriving for the start of the work day and the few tired-eyed night shift workers heading for the exits. "If we can't reach the Colonel or Lieutenant, Then he takes precedence."

They ducked into a stairwell, climbing toward the third floor of the half-demolished building. Tarps flapped gently along one side of the structure where it would otherwise be open to the bare and blasted parade ground and what had once been neatly maintained lawns. The cleanup alone, to make things restoration-read, had taken a week and a half, with the rebuilding only just getting underway.

Breda caught a glimpse past the tarp as they started up the second-to-last flight of stairs – the sky was overcast with the promise of rain, the air already thickening slightly with accumulating humidity. The kind of weather the Boss hates, he thought idly. Just as well he's not here.

The outer waiting room of the Office of the Führer-President was deserted when they arrived. A pair of empty couches faced each other over a glass-topped coffee table, with a single desk sitting just inside the doors. Breda glanced over as they passed, noting a few particular details on it that marked its most recent occupant. Paper with familiar handwriting, an empty dog bowl tucked out of the way in the foot well, and the brass nameplate reading '1st Lt. R. Hawkeye.'

Fuery knocked twice on the tall, wooden double doors at the far side of the room, waiting for the confirming call of 'Enter!' before grasping the long brass handle and pulling the heavy panel open.

It was clear, from the moment they entered, that they were walking in on another conversation. Grumman watched them enter, seated in silhouette against the window behind the large desk. Standing in front of it, his hands folded behind his back and looking back at them over one shoulder, was Alex Louis Armstrong.

Both newcomers paused in the doorway to salute. "Sorry if we're interrupting," Breda said by way of greeting. "We can wait outside if –"

"Nonsense," Grumman interjected, waving away their formalities by beckoning them forward. "I suspect we're all discussing the same thing, here." He nodded in Armstrong's direction. "The Major here was just updating me on the situation with Mr. Collins of the Central Times."

Fuery winced. "Is he going to press charges? Lieutenant Hawkeye said she sent a letter of apology to his office, but–"

"She won't be charged," Armstrong rumbled, his face composed but his eyes twinkling lightly with humour. "I spoke to Mr. Collins' editor and it appears that the reporter received a rather strong backlash from his coworkers. Something about 'pushing the envelope' and 'starting trouble' with 'still-healing soldiers."

Grumman was openly grinning, his fingers laced together under his chin. "Perhaps Mr. Collins will be wise enough to learn from this mishap to keep his mouth closed and his ears open, instead of the other way around. This does come as a relief, though. We'll add it to the list of things to be communicated to the Colonel at our next check in. Speaking of…."

Grey eyes settled on Breda and Fuery, his expression turning expectant. "How did things go this morning?"

"They… didn't, sir," Fuery admitted. "That's why we came to see you. The temporary phone lines that East City ran out to Ishval last week appear to be down."

The new Führer-President went very still, his gaze boring into the two younger men. "Down," he repeated, his tone carefully neutral. "Down how?"

Fuery faltered under that stare, the one that had been subduing unruly soldiers and insubordinate officers for decades. "I'm… I'm not sure what you mean, sir…. If they're down, they're down. They're… not working."

The expression softened, Grumman's hands lowering to rest, folded, on the desk. "I'm sorry, with both of them in unfamiliar and politically restless territory so soon after being wounded… I had hoped to rely on our communications to make sure they stayed as… recovered as they seemed to be." He smiled, though it wasn't much more than reflexive. "When you say 'down,' do you mean temporarily or permanently?"

"Temporary, for sure," Breda put in. "I think our next move is to have East City try and establish radio contact with Jadad, instead of telephone."

Fuery was nodding in agreement. "The signal will be scratchy, but it should at least be understandable. We'll have to give Rebecca a message of everything we want to say, and have her take down all of the Colonel's and Lieutenant's responses." He shrugged. "It's not exactly the fastest or smoothest way to share information, but given the circumstances…."

Grumman was already nodding. "It's at least more of a plan that we had a moment ago. The only question remaining is what information we would like relayed." He looked back to Armstrong. "The news of Mr. Collins, of course, but is there anything else? Any news of the East-Central Slayer?"

"Unfortunately, there is." Breda had gone from optimistic to grim in a matter of seconds. "Rebecca got in touch this morning to update us; that's how we knew that the lines to Ishval are down. Things out there have taken a bit of an unexpected — and suspicious — turn."

Leaning back in the carved wooden Presidential chair, Grumman's face was composed, but with more than a hint of resignation. "Don't they always," he murmured. "Go on; what's happened?"

"Well… if you remember, sir, the last contact anyone had with the killer was when he robbed the blood bank at the East City Military Hospital," Fuery began. "He stole six pint jars of blood in varying types, killed a male nurse who caught him in the act and a guard who tried to stop him leaving, and then disappeared. He hasn't been seen in the city since then."

"Bizarre sort of thing to steal," Grumman murmured.

Armstrong was frowning as he absorbed the information. "What was the date of that last attack?"

"April 21st. Two days ago." Fuery paused a moment to let that sink in before adding, "The last time he took a longer break between killings was when he murdered the hospital administration clerk here in Central and then moved on to East City."

The large man eyed him thoughtfully, blue eyes watchful above his moustache. "And you believe that the reason there have been no attacks since the 21st is because the killer has migrated once again?" Fuery nodded. "Do you have any idea where he might have gone?"

Breda and Fuery both shook their heads, but Grumman got to his feet, beginning to come around to the front of the desk. "There is some… information I've not yet shared," he said grimly. "I was keeping it to myself for now, in the hopes that the fewer people knew about it, the less risk would be posed to the Colonel and Lieutenant."

He stood with his hands behind his back, grim in the morning sunlight coming through the window. "The reason for the two of them going on to Ishval was only in part due to the threat of legal action by Mr. Collins. That is the part I told you, because the other is… much worse." Grey eyes flashed in warning. "What I am about to tell you does not leave this room, except to inform the rest of the investigative team. Am I clear?"

At the three nods and murmurs of 'yes, sir,' he continued. "It would appear that Lieutenant Hawkeye has caught this killer's attention. When or how, I do not know – I don't think even she knows the answer to those questions. She and the Colonel were staying in my old apartment in East City for the duration of their investigation there, and in that time… the killer sought them out, broke in, and caused a… confrontation."

The blood drained out of Fuery's face at the same time Breda's jaw clenched. Armstrong's moustache bristled, his blue eyes wide. "Are they all right?"

"Physically, yes." Behind his back, Grumman clenched his left hand tightly around his right wrist to keep himself calm. "The attack was mostly focussed on Lieutenant Hawkeye, and, strangely enough, involves blood." He took a deep breath before saying, "He forced her to drink his."

Somehow, Fuery's jaw didn't wind up on the floor, although it tried mightily. Breda swallowed hard, looking sickened, and brief flashes of shock, sympathy, and anger crossed Armstrong's face so quickly that catching them all was difficult. The big man was the first to regain his power of speech.

"And did she… get rid of it?"

"After he was chased away, yes. I'm told she was so disgusted by it that she vomited almost immediately." He shook his head wearily. "Though if this is the perverse purpose he puts his own blood toward, I shudder to think what his plans for the bottles he stole is."

Breda gave a full body shudder, shaking himself back to reality. "I can see why you didn't want to tell us, sir. It's like something out of a horror story."

Beside him, Fuery went still, his shoulders stiffening and eyes widening. "…Say that again."

"'…It's like… something out of a horror story?'"

Recognition dawned in the young man's eyes, his gaze introspective as he nodded slowly. "That's because it is. A vampire forcing a victim to drink his — the vampire's — blood… that's straight out of classic vampire lore. It's called a baptism of blood; it's how one vampire turns a new one." He grinned sheepishly, coming back to the present as he glanced around at the other three, all of them staring at him. "…I read a lot of monster stories as a kid."

Breda's expression turned skeptical. "That's the key word here, though, isn't it? Stories?" He shook his head. "This guy is just… a guy. Somebody who's probably read the exact same stories you did, and is just cracked enough to believe that he's an actual vampire, so he tries to act like one."

"Stories, perhaps," Armstrong rumbled darkly, "but I know for a fact that monsters are real." He reached up, rubbing at his left shoulder, still tender from where it had been dislocated on the Promised Day. "I fought one on the Promised Day… and served another in the military for several years. I'm not above believing that the monsters in cautionary tales could be real; the ideas had tom come from somewhere."

"Usually folklore, dreamed up by scared people to explain the unexplainable," Breda countered. "I'll agree that monsters do exist; I can't deny the existence of the Homonculi or their Father. What I'm saying is that there's got to be a better explanation than some pointy-toothed bloodsucker, or at least some kind of proof."

"After hearing all the accounts from Central on the Promised Day… after have my own soul ripped out and then slammed back home by a mystically evil being I've never even seen…." Grumman moved to lean back against the desk, folding his arms over his narrow chest. "After all that, I think I'm willing to come down on the side of belief."

Breda still didn't look convinced, but Fuery spoke up before he could voice his skepticism. "So if this guy is some kind of vampire, and if he turned Lieutenant Hawkeye before she left for Ishval…. Could he be going after her? And stealing the blood for…." He swallowed hard in distaste. "For… provisions until he reaches Jadad?"

The room went deathly silent for a long moment, before Armstrong spoke. "…It might be best to have East City establish radio contact with Jadad as soon as possible."

EAST CITY MILITARY HEADQUARTERS

0953 HOURS, APRIL 23RD

She sat with her shoulders hunched beside the radio receiver, headphones clamped to her ears with both hands and a frown etched into her face. Rebecca shook her head, hearing the padding over her ears creak with the movement. "Still nothing, try again."

Beside her, still tired from a hurried day and night of train travel, Falman inched the frequency dial over notch by notch, his other hand holding his own headphones tightly against one ear. "We're going to have to start going backward along the frequencies before much longer. There might be a dust storm somewhere between here and there that's scrambling the signal, or –"

"Wait a second, go back a little! I think I heard something."

A second later, a fuzzy signal dissipated most of the white noise, occasionally disappearing back into static. "…tention, Eas…uarters…Jadad Cen…tions…se resp…."

Rebecca bounced once in her seat in happy victory, causing Hayate to lift his head from the floor beside her chair. "Yes!" Leaning forward to the microphone, she pushed the button for transmission. "Jadad Central Communications, this is East City Headquarters. We copy, but you've got bad static."

There was a short pause, then, "…opy, East Cit…. you know…ry offic… name…keye?"

She could feel the happy triumph of just seconds before fading into worry. Exchanging a glance with Falman, his own concern writ large on his face, she leaned toward the mic again. "…Yes, we do. We're actually calling to talk to either her or Colonel Mustang." A brief pause. "The phone lines were down; this was our only option."

The pause from the Ishvalan end continued for another moment, before was a crackle louder than others and a new, deeper voice sounded. "…ecca?"

She relaxed slightly, although not much. "Right here, Colonel. Falman, too."

"…ood. Could u… elp." There was another pause, and when he continued, Rebecca suspected it had been because Mustang was taking a calming breath. "Hawk… n't here…. ng happ… took off."

"'Something happened and she took off?'" she repeated softly to herself. Casting a look at Falman, she found him looking back at her with equal puzzlement.

"That's out of character," he said, just as quietly. "Lieutenant Hawkeye never just… 'takes off.'"

Rebecca turned back to the microphone. "Colonel, do you know where she is? We have a message we need to get to her. It's urgent."

"She…mewhere ins…ity… ot sure whe…. ive me… sage, I'll… et it… when… ind her." There followed a moment of hissing static, and then, "…ave mess… too."

Her frown deepened, not understanding the last few words past the obscuring bursts of static and white noise. Either the Colonel had a message as well… or just a mess. With Riza having gone off 'somewhere in the city,' it could be either one. "Go ahead, sir," she said, reaching for the notepad and pencil she had brought with her. "What's your message?"

"…eason t… eve… iller migh… pire. I… eird…est… lanation….… bit Hawk… rned her… too.… ried to… rid of… n't work. She… ent pers… not… at all." He paused for a moment, then added, "With… o far?"

Rebecca looked down at what she had scribbled hastily as he spoke. 'Killer, vampire?, bit Hawkeye, turned?, tried get rid of didn't work, different person.' "I think so. Did you say she's a different person? Not herself at all?"

"…es….off aft…failed… een since….Grumman we're…looking… city… on't think… find unle…want…be fou…."

"Got it." Jotting down the last note, she read it over again. 'Took off after failed' - presumably he meant whatever they had tried to get rid of a vampire curse - 'tell Grumman they're looking, in city, don't think find her unless wants be found.'

"…at's y… age?"

Falman jumped in as Rebecca started writing out her short notes into something more intelligible. "Grumman told everyone about the attack on you in East City," he said, speaking slowly to combat the static. "Fuery figured out the vampire angle as well. The last attack was two days ago –"

The radio spat static, causing him to pause, and Mustang spoke again. "Fue…igur… out?!"

"Yes, sir. And the last attack was at a hospital. The killer stole six bottles of blood and killed two staff members before he escaped." Silence, but for a faint buzzing on the airwaves. "We think he might be –"

"He…ing here."

Falman grimaced; for having been hurled headlong into this – the strangest of strange cases – with little to no warning, he was handling it remarkably well… but his own weariness was wearing on his ability to keep up. "Yes, sir. We think he might be."

There was yet another momentary pause, and when Mustang's voice came back, it was all business. "Than…eads-up.…wha… can… ind Hawkeye…. Get…ssage to…man, check…tonight.… lines down… don't… ike it.…eep search… you know…ind her."

Either the static was clearing a little bit, or Rebecca was beginning to understand static-speak. "We copy. East City out."

Both she and Falman sat back, pulling off headphones and laying them on the desk. Rebecca rubbed a worried hand across her forehead, massaging the beginnings of a headache. "I suppose we ought to call back to Central and bring the others up to speed," she muttered. "Though how we're supposed to present this vampire stuff with a straight face, I don't know."

Falman's usually sober expression was grave. "I believe it," he said quietly. "I fought beside the Homonculus Greed on the Promised Day, and I watched Bradley take apart a tank, Captain Buccaneer, and a Xingese warrior with no more trouble than swatting a determined mosquito. If a being such as that exists, who's to say that vampires can't?"

A chill crept up Rebecca's spine, and she only barely suppressed a shiver. Getting to her feet, she picked up her notepad and started toward the door. "Either way, we have a job to do. Let's just hope we're wrong in thinking the killer could be headed farther east."

CITY OF JADAD, RECONSTRUCTION OUTPOST OFFICE

1015 HOURS, APRIL 23RD

Roy pushed open the door and stepped into the dim, cool interior of the house-turned-office. Barely ten in the morning and already the sun was promising high warmth from a cloudless blue sky. Roy took that as a good sign; maybe such bright sunlight would force Riza to stay put in whatever hiding place she had found.

And maybe it'll prevent the killer from getting here much faster….

Miles looked up as Roy entered, his smile reflexive and not much more. "Did you manage to get through?"

"Barely. The temporary phone lines are down, so we had to rely on radio contact, and the static was pretty strong." He pulled a folded piece of notepaper from its place tucked into the waist sash of his Ishvalan tunic. "This was the message relayed to me through East City, from our new Führer-President."

Frowning studiously, Miles read the shorthand notes out loud as though for clarification. "'Last killer attack negative two d.' Two days ago?" He continued after a confirming nod. "'Stole blood, nothing since. Poss. coming here.'" He grimaced. "And if our vampire angle is correct, that blood will sustain him until he reaches here, and perhaps both him and the Lieutenant when he does."

Roy's stomach flipped sickeningly at the thought of her drinking more blood, this time voluntarily. "I don't think that's our biggest issue at the moment. The fact is that he's probably already on his way and if so, he's likely almost here. Two vampires in a city full of unsuspecting civilians?"

"It will be like letting two wolves into a pen of sheep," Scar put in, descending the stairs from the second floor. "Which leaves us with three options: lie in wait for the killer to arrive and bring him down when he does, find Lieutenant Hawkeye and make sure she can't or doesn't attack anyone, or… find her and wait for the male vampire to turn up and corner them both at once."

The sickening flip subsided to an uneasy rolling. "Use her as bait?"

"In a sense." Red eyes went toward the large map pinned to one wall of the main room. "The trick is finding her."

Mentally ordering his insides to get a hold of themselves, Roy turned toward the map, studying it as he approached. Symbols on a variety of colours covered most of the westward section of the city, next to tiny printed reference numbers beside each building. With more refugees trickling into the city every week, what had begun as a small 40-acre inhabited zone had spread to roughly a quarter of the city have at least some population.

Of course, that still left three quarters unpopulated.

His arms folded loosely across his chest, Roy ignored the habitable zone, and focussed his attention on the areas left free of such markings. "How many locations of significance are there in this open part?"

"Dozens," was Scar's grim answer as he joined him. One large, calloused hand lifted, pointing out different spots. "Temples, marketplaces, schools, a seminary, parks, courthouses…." He frowned. "Although you mentioned she would likely have to avoid religious sites."

Dark eyes scanned the enigmatic clusters of two-dimensional buildings. "I know it's a lot… but would you mind marking those kinds of places off? I don't know if we can figure out exactly what sort of place she would look for… but we should at least try."

Silently, Scar retrieved a marker from Miles' desk, returning to begin tracing the outlines of certain buildings with the red felt tip. Roy studied each one, comparing it to mental criteria and either dismissing it as a choice, or keeping it in mind.

The whole process took nearly half an hour, in which Miles disappeared briefly into the office's small kitchen and returned with small, steaming cups of strong coffee. Even with cream and sugar added to negate the bitterness, Roy was forced to cough in surprise at the first sip.

Getting himself under control, he turned back to the map as Scar took a step back with a satisfied nod. "All right. So if we exclude temples that still gives us…?"

"Fifty-seven possible locations." Scar gave him a sidelong glance. "If you're certain she'll look for a significant and public place."

Roy nodded firmly. "I'm almost positive. It's Sniper 101: get high up with a good vantage point over as wide an area as possible with as little ground cover as possible. That being said, if the building is under two storeys, she'll avoid it."

Miles joined them, holding a clipboard full of building reference numbers. Both he and Scar set to work, checking the heights of red-traced buildings and either putting a red line through them or leaving a red dot in the centre. In the space of ten minutes, all selected sites went from potential to 'probably not' or 'possible.'

Looking over, Miles lifted an eyebrow. "Next?"

Roy had spent the checking period planning the next round of cuts. "Any place surrounded by other buildings or that you know to have more than, say, two windows per wall." He shrugged. "It's a pretty common trope that sun and vampires don't mix well."

Miles nodded as Scar turned back to the map. "I noticed something like that as I was escorting her to the yantir. She seemed… perhaps a little groggy or disoriented, a little bit shaky in the knees. Not quite the dramatic bursting into dust and ash that some legends describe, but I think all of us would rather that didn't happen."

Silently quashing the little flutter of panic in his chest at the thought of that particular possibility, Roy forced a smile. "I think you'd be right. How many possibilities are we down to now?"

Scar was another moment in answering, murmuring when he did. "Twenty-six. Any other thoughts?"

Roy thought for a minute, then said, "Any place with religious significance. Temples and cemeteries, like we said before, but you mentioned a seminary as well?" The other man nodded. "I wouldn't expect her to go to close to that either. Any place for religion or the teaching of religion likely won't feel too welcoming to her."

Those subtractions only took a moment. "Twenty-one left."

"It would be best if we could narrow it down to under ten or just over," Miles said, his eyes on the map. "If we search those locations and don't find her, we can add possible sites back in little by little until we do."

Nodding agreement, Roy ran through the criteria in his head once again, trying to find something he had overlooked, something he may have missed that was preventing the selection from being pared down any farther…. "What about… any places that might see use sooner than the others? Places close to the inhabited zones that are maybe a little better off and might have Reconstruction workers visiting them at any time?"

"Ah." Miles consulted the clipboard list, looking closely at the column that told of a building's current state. "I can see eliminating… perhaps nine such buildings. Leaving us with a total of twelve possibilities farther into the city."

Scar handed him the marker, allowing him to take over crossing out the buildings they no longer needed. "Twelve is more of a workable number than fifty-seven," he agreed. "The temple can lend us some of their apprentices to help with the search."

Roy took a deep breath, still watching the map. Somewhere, in that open section, in one of those red-traced buildings, was Riza. A Riza who needed his help, needed to be found, needed to be brought home…. He just had to find her. "And will it be find-and-detain, or find, observe, and report?"

The two Ishvalan men exchanged a glance. "I think… it will depend on the situation, sir," Miles finally said, his tone careful. "If, when she's found, if they come upon her unnoticed… I would think that all they would need to do is report where she's gone to ground and keep an eye on the place until a new plan is formed." He hesitated briefly. "But, if she attacks outright, then whoever is on the receiving end will have no choice but to defend themselves."

It certainly wasn't the ideal situation, but Roy had a feeling it was going to be the best he could hope for under the current circumstances. "Agreed. Make sure the searchers know, then, that stealth is going to be an asset." The smile he cracked wasn't a full one, but it at least took most of the grimness out of his wry comment of "I'd really rather not have to find a new assistant."

"We'll do what we can, sir," Miles promised.

Scar had already taken a few steps away from the map on the wall toward the low table that served as his desk. Reaching down, he picked up three small packets. "If stealth doesn't work, these may buy time to either get away or prepare a defense." He kept one small canvas pouch for himself, and handed the remaining two to the others. "Based on vampire lore in the Ishvalan archives, these should be enough to at least give one of them pause when attacking."

Roy turned the little bundle over in his hands. "What all is in here, exactly?" The thing didn't have a strong smell, but what little there was was not exactly… appetizing.

"A combination of blessed sand, a holy rune of protection cast in silver, and three flowers of the garlic plant." Scar unwound the long string wrapped around the neck of his pouch, slipping it over his head so that the little bag rested halfway down his chest. "I can't promise it will completely repel a vampire, but they won't be anxious to get near it."

Putting his own pouch — or, protection charm, he supposed — around his neck, Roy glanced down at it once, then looked away. His eyes fell on the map.

"Let's get one of these made up for each member in the search party," he said, "and then get to it. Keep them in pairs, for safety's sake, and make sure they know what to do and what to look for. It's better to do this during daylight, so when there's an hour left until sunset, if we haven't found her, we'll pull them all back and regroup for tomorrow. Fair?"

Scar and Miles nodded grimly, and the curl of worry Roy had felt earlier now settled as a slowly shifting ball of uneasiness in his stomach.

The hunt was on.

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