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dark9896 · 1 year

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No... Way [Raju x Reader]

Requested by Anonymous 😏

Christ, it was one thing after another around here. Zapp could really use a good night out drinking. But you'd probably bail again. That damn dish cloth has been hanging around a lot lately. Helping Libra take out threats of all things.

That didn't make a lick of sense.

Zapp couldn't remember the last time he'd had a conversation with you, or even texted... But a quick peek at his phone made him stop dead in his tracks.

Nine, no damn near ten months. Wasn't that about how long the old rag had been in town? Why in the hell did this feel like an omen? He should just call and see what's going on.

Before Zapp could press the button, he spotted a familiar face across the park. At least, he thought it was you. There was a baby stroller in front of you and a large dog at your side. If that even was you to begin with.

"OI! Crazy!"

You turned, the only person who called you that was Zapp after all. And since you'd decided... well, a lot of things, you hadn't seen him at all. So naturally, he didn't know about Wisp or little Gloria. Though one was far more noteworthy than the other.

"Hey Zapp." You said.

"Hey? I haven't seen you in a f-!"

"Don't cuss in front of my daughter please." You cut him off quickly, "I don't want her picking up your worst habits."

"DAUGHTER!"

"Yes, chill." You had to lean over to lift Gloria out of her stroller. It was clear she would start crying from the sudden loudness, "Or I will sick Wisp on you."

"Wisp? You mean this mutt?" Zapp pointed at your pet, "I'm not scared of this flea bag."

"You should be." Zapp looked up at the descending form of his 'Master', "He's been trained. And he's a far better fighter than you."

Twisting his head back and forth, Zapp could see the slightest resemblance between the toddler in your arms and the floating dishcloth on a stick. But, no... surely not.

"[Name], don't tell me you actually decided to have a kid with this sadistic homunculus." Zapp pinched the bridge of his nose, "Let alone him training your dog."

"Wisp is a wolf." You corrected, "Someone decided that I would need more protection while pregnant and brought home a young wolf."

Raju refused to make eye contact, turning his attention to Gloria. Presenting the little baby with a new little trinket. A large, colorful plushie with visible stitching, a clear sign Raju had made himself.

Zapp however was rubbing his mouth and chin, "So he's been sticking around because you were pregnant with his kid?"

"Well, yeah I guess." You shrugged, "Though it's been a learning curve for him specifically. He's never been around toddlers before. Or anything younger than about ten years old."

"Of course..." Zapp half growled, "And you're just... okay with this? I mean, he'll probably want to train her to be a fighter or some sh-"

You stomped Zapp's foot to keep him from cussing, but it was Rjau who spoke up.

"I will do no such thing!" He protested, "My daughter won't have a need to touch a weapon at all. I refuse to let such a thing happen."

"Oh really!?" Zapp turned his snarl to Raju, "And why should [Name] and I believe you, huh? After everything you-"

"Stop!" Both froze stiff, turning to you and the scowl across your face, "Look, I know you don't wanna hear this Zapp. But Raju has been nothing but a sweetheart to me. The best relationship I've had in my whole life. So stop antagonizing him for your own amusement."

"You don't know what he's capable of!"

"Neither do you." You glared at your buddy, "But I know that Raju has been very gentle, sweet, and loving towards me. I know that he has been trying to be a good partner."

You took a step toward Zapp, causing him to back up a little, "I know that Raju has been doing a lot of things to make things as easy as possible for me and Gloria. So just stop trying to turn me against my husband."

Zapp felt his spirit leave his body for a second, "Hold on, husband!?"

Holding up your left hand and showing Zapp an absolutely stunning ring had him opening his mouth like a fish. He couldn't believe it, he didn't want to believe it. How could you... how could Raju... Why would you go this far??

"What in the world?" Zapp finally managed a croaking voice, "Where did you even get that ring?"

"Raju made it himself." You said, "He's made a lot of things. Like this stroller, the crib, the bassinet... pretty much anything that could be made of wood and metal. Well, some things made of metal. He's even been dabbling in stitching."

Zapp's eye twitched, so this dirty sock does have a kind side. Raju however was trying to figure out how to vanish. He wasn't expecting you to start bragging about his handiwork. Though he was at least a little happy that you thought so highly of these things. It still flustered Raju to hear you say it out loud.

"Just when were you gonna tell me you were getting hitched to this..."

"I don't have to tell you everything about my life numbskull." You frowned again, "Especially when I know you'll try everything in your power to stop me."

"Did you choose to have a kid before or after?"

You sighed, "A bit of both really. We were a little drunk, talking about where we thought life would take us. Ended up on the topic of kids and I mentioned what getting married meant. Overall and to me, and a few days later we started talking about it while sober and..."

"Okay, okay." Zapp held both hands out in front of himself, "You don't want me cussing in front of your kid, so maybe keep it pg-13, yeah?"

Raising one eyebrow, you chortled a bit, "Oh, suddenly you don't want to talk about someone's personal life, eh?"

"You picked up on his bad habits." Zapp jerked a thumb at Raju, "I really didn't need the mental image of you getting 'a little drunk' with him."

#bbb #kekkai sensen #kkss #blood blockade battlefront #master raju #ask

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lotusthewriter · 1 year

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What I've Done - Chapter 2

Fandom: Fullmetal Alchemist (2003)

Rating: T

Relationships: Alphonse (Wrath) & Edward

Characters: Alphonse Elric (Wrath), Edward Elric, Sloth, Dante, Envy; other characters to be added

Summary: "As soon as the homunculus decides to shove these feelings down his throat and take the alchemist to Dante for once and for all, his troubled opponent finally dares to say something that stops the world from going.

“... Al?”

It paralyzes Wrath."

A Homunculus Alphonse Elric AU.

Word count: TBA

AO3

First chapter

A/N: The trigger warnings apply to the entire AU, but in this chapter specifically, watch out for child abuse.

TRIGGER WARNINGS - death, repressed trauma, child abuse, physical and emotional abuse, emotional neglect, canon-typical violence, self-sacrifice, suicidal thoughts, blood and injury and loss of limbs. (More might be added)

P/roship DNI.

“... Yes, when I heard she died, I knew it would come to this. They are his sons… after all…”

The voice loses itself to the rain as the person – an older woman – notices a presence besides the disfigured, hungry creature between them. The water from the sky falls with so much force that you might even hear the thunder far away.

“Now, that is a surprise,” the woman comments, sounding more shocked by the boy than the fiend. “What is your name, dear?”

He only hugs himself tighter – his arms don’t feel the same skin –, like he’s going to be attacked for being asked that. He gazes at the creature which could not give a care about the world around it, then back at the older lady, who seems rather patient with him.

“Do you have one?” She merely asks, likely noting his speechlessness.

The boy sniffs, afraid of the rain, of the situation that brought him and the pained being to that dark basement. He feels cold.

“Oh dear, you’re trembling,” the woman approaches him, causing the other to flinch. “Don’t be scared, sweetheart. I just want to help you.”

Her voice is… very sweet. There’s something odd about it. Something… familiar?

She appears to take more of those red stones she gave the creature, and instead she gives it to him. The unnamed boy, as if he were hungry this whole time, eats the stones with the same ferocity.

When he’s done, she still offers a kind hand, even if the raindrops catch it. When he takes it, he… wraps his small arms around the woman, and finally cries. He hopes it’s not uncalled for, but she hums fondly and soothes his back with her free hand.

“There, there… you’re going to be alright,” she reassures him. “I will look after you two…”

There’s a small pause.

“... Wrath.”

“Wrath ? Really?”

“He has had it rough, Envy. As he grows, his anger will, too,” Dante explains.

“I doubt that.”

“Oh, you’ll see. Wrath will be the best of all of us.”

Envy glares at the boy, who clings to Dante in fear. Envy really doesn’t like Wrath.

“Tch,” the older homunculus storms off, Wrath flinching at the door being shut with force.

“Don’t worry about Envy. He’s just jealous I brought such a bright boy home,” she jokes. Wrath doesn’t feel much better. “Now, I think you should rest after such a horrible night.”

Even as Dante sets the bed for him, Wrath only stands still, staring at his own arms and legs. His whole body is pale, except for the right arm and left leg. They have scars that he doesn’t remember getting. Not that he remembers anything, but they don’t feel like they’re his.

“Wrath?” Dante calls him.

“I’m… I’m just confused,” he speaks up. “I’m not… human?”

“No, but you will be, once we get the Philosopher’s Stone.”

“But how? How was I born like this? Why are my limbs like this?”

“I don’t have all the answers, dear. You should be more concerned about yourself right now.”

Wrath doesn’t really argue, because he is tired, and he knows Dante has done more than enough to help him. The bed does look comfortable, so he climbs up and the latter tucks him in… yet another gesture that reminds him of a hazy past.

“Tomorrow will be a brighter day, I promise,” Dante whispers to him. “Good night, Wrath.”

She rubs his forehead, delicately touching his dark short bangs. Wrath can’t contain a small, relaxed smile. Eventually, Dante heads to the door, and when she’s about to leave, Wrath immediately remembers something.

“W-Wait, what about… her?” He wonders.

“She will be alright. She will be more presentable soon,” Dante winks, and finally shuts the door.

Wrath sighs, still conflicted about everything, but the weight of his exhaustion catches up with him, so he sinks in bed and closes his eyes.

Even while he sleeps, the sound of the rain outside might be trying to tell him something. Something he cannot understand. Yet something… important.

“Wrath? What are you doing over there?”

He gulps, “I-I didn’t want her to be alone.”

“She needs to rest, dear.”

“I know, but I know she’s scared and confused, so I just wanted to be here if he needs me.”

“Oh, Wrath, you’re very sweet. She’s very strong, though, you don’t need to worry about her.”

He listens to the breaths, which have become calmer as the homunculus begins to look more like the others. She’s not awake right now, at least.

“Yeah, but…” Wrath tries to argue.

“She will be okay. She needs more time alone. That way you will help her better.”

He knows Dante means well, but Wrath just… needs to be there for the other homunculus. He doesn’t know why, but that was the first thing he felt when he found her in that basement, begging for her life. Even if he was completely lost and scared, he still helped her leave.

“Let’s go back to bed,” Dante says, taking his hand before he protests. She tucks him in like usual and closes the door.

But just like most nights, Wrath’s chest grows tight and he can’t fall asleep.

So, he returns to that room.

Hearing the breathing…

Making sure it’s there.

Because if it isn’t…

This time, he hears gasps.

They’re not very loud, but they obviously alarm him.

Wrath is right next to the bed, finding the long-haired woman sweating, like she’s having a nightmare. Wrath has certainly had his fair share of nonsensical dreams, so he waits patiently for her to wake up instead of intervening.

Fortunately, she quiets down and… she opens her eyes, like she’s finally conscious again.

“You’re awake,” Wrath notes, slightly surprised yet mostly relieved. “Are you okay?”

That makes the woman turn her eyes – colored and shaped just like his – to him. They stare at one another for a couple of seconds…

Then hers widen.

“You…” She speaks in a low voice, so… intensely.

Wrath’s smile immediately disappears. “Huh?”

“You… you two …”

Two? “What? D-Did I do something wrong?”

She shuts her eyes forcefully like her head is aching. She’s looking distressed again.

“Leave,” she orders. The woman isn’t at all loud, but the quietude is even scarier.

“Please, I d-didn’t mean to–”

“I told you to leave!”

Wrath backs off in fear and regret of making everything worse. The other homunculus becomes even more disturbed, as she sits on the bed and avoids the boy entirely.

And to make it all the more horrible, Dante and the other homunculi enter the room, none of them impressed once they find out the guilty.

“Oh, it had to be momma’s boy,” Envy rolls his eyes.

“I’ve told you not to come here, and you keep disobeying me,” Dante scolds firmly. This time, not patiently.

“I’m sorry!” Wrath begs. “I just wanted to help!”

“I’ve had enough , Wrath. Go back to your room, now.” The elder woman walks up to the bed to assist the panicking homunculus.

The other homunculi join her without paying Wrath any mind, causing him to stumble towards the door.

“Wait! Please, let me help!”

“You heard her, kid,” Envy bites, “get out.”

“B-But–!”

“I said GET OUT, you TWERP!”

Envy kicks Wrath in the gut at full force, enough so the latter is out of the room and the door is loudly shut. He doesn’t hear anything coming from there, and he doesn’t think he wants to with so much pain.

Wrath can barely walk back to his bedroom, which is strange since homunculi are supposed to be more resistant than the average human being. Still, the moment he closes his door, with as much silence as possible, he breaks down in tears.

He already knows they don’t pay him much attention, let alone like him. But disappointing Dante and hurting that woman were truly unforgivable. He messed up so badly. How is he going to be the best of them all if he keeps disrespecting them?

Wrath, once again, doesn’t sleep.

This time, he doesn’t even lie in bed, only sits on the floor with his back to the door.

Dante doesn’t come to get him like she usually does.

So, when Wrath leaves all by himself, he is surprised to catch a very long purple dress in the corridor.

It’s the woman. She’s… better, apparently.

Until her cold eyes meet his again.

Then she walks past him like he doesn’t exist.

Wrath only sees his teardrops falling on the floor.

Knock.

“Wrath? Are you in there?”

The boy sniffs, hugging himself pathetically.

Despite getting no answer, Dante opens the door anyway, with her same look of concern and gentleness.

“I thought you were still on your mission?” She questions.

Wrath doesn’t outright tell her that he failed – which he should –, but with his traumatized mind, he takes a hot breath.

“... Why didn’t you tell me?”

“Tell you what?”

Wrath’s head boils, no longer hiding his teary face and his mess of a haircut, which seems to surprise Dante.

“The alchemist! He KNEW me! He knew MY FACE and- and he called me a NAME! And- And I KNOW him, too!” He raises his voice. “I’m suddenly having all these memories of us! WHY wouldn’t you tell me?!”

“I knew that telling you would take away your focus,” Dante says indifferently.

“But I COULDN’T bring him to you because YOU didn’t tell me who he was! You didn’t tell me who I was!”

“Wrath, I do not appreciate your tone.”

Immediately shivering inside, the boy swallows his lashing out, and then he feels defeated due to the battle.

“What am I supposed to do with him?” He questions.

“You’ll make him give your humanity back, because he owes you that. He owes that to all of you.”

Wrath doesn’t believe that answer to be any fulfilling, not as Ed dominates his every thought. Childhood memories, good times, and very bad ones, too. He and Ed were inseparable, they always looked after one another… He was never alone, even after their mother died.

He should be angry at Ed for giving birth to Wrath and to Sloth. He should hate Ed because he’s the reason why Sloth hates Wrath. But even then…

“... I trust you, Wrath. I know you will do the right thing,” Dante brings him back to the real world. “You just have to focus and not care about trivial things.”

Wrath only nods, eyes downcast. “Yes, ma’am.”

Dante hums, staying quiet for a few seconds before suggesting, “Would you like some tea? Only you and me?”

Once again, he nods.

“Perfect.”

She takes his hand and guides him downstairs.

(That’s all he ever does. Follow her. Follow Sloth and everyone else. Obey their commands and fight and never look back. And if he doesn’t, he’ll be punished harshly for it.)

(Maybe that’s why remembering a past where he wasn’t punished is affecting him so much.)

Despite everything, Wrath still can’t help worrying about Sloth.

He knows she’ll only reject him. He knows every time he clings to her, she’ll only walk away. Sloth is the same kind of cold Wrath felt when he was first found in the rain.

She’s the very opposite of Envy: the latter openly hits him and calls him names, angry that Dante seems to give Wrath more attention. Yet strangely enough, Dante doesn’t bat an eye at Envy’s attacks, or Sloth’s cruel neglect.

In fact, none of them… care. Lust, Gluttony, and Pride never step in for him. Arguably, Pride is busy being the Führer and he assigned Sloth to be his secretary, but Lust and Gluttony don’t bother.

Whether Wrath is left by himself at the mansion or not, he’s still lonely. He certainly hates it when they are home, because Envy loves making his life hell, and Sloth and the others pretend he doesn’t exist. The only useful thing Wrath does all day is train alchemy, by himself or with Dante. He’s pretty good at it, like he’s a natural. It must be due to his human limbs, of course, but he can’t help wondering if there might be something else behind it, too…

Eventually, he grows sick of it all. He’s tired of the rejection. He’s angry that Dante, who promised she would take care of him, never tries to protect him. Sometimes she’s right there when Envy hits him, yet she never speaks up.

Everything goes down the drain when Wrath finally uses his alchemy on someone. That being Envy.

It’s not calculated at all, though. It destroys the dinner room and it actually catches Envy by surprise as part of the ceiling falls on top of him before he can even dodge. Obviously, it’s not lethal to the first homunculus of the group, yet if looks could kill, Wrath’s pathetic life would certainly have ended with the way Envy glares at him. Yet Dante appears right away, already knowing the disaster is Wrath’s doing.

And of course… she doesn’t bother scolding Envy. Dante grabs Wrath’s arm – his human arm – so roughly that it burns.

“You’ve gone too far this time, Wrath,” the older woman berates, disappointed. She isn’t loud, not that she ever is.

“But Envy started it!”

“That is no excuse. You have to control your alchemy, remember? You can’t just use it for a dumb fight.”

“But he HITS me! He TERRORIZES me with every chance he gets!”

“I know you’re upset, Wrath, but you’ve got to calm down.”

“Why won’t you LISTEN to me?!” Wrath yells louder.

“I do listen, dear.”

“If you did, you would SHOW it!”

Even though Dante’s smile fades into something akin to intimidation, Wrath doesn’t stop.

“If you even CARED, you wouldn’t let Envy hit me!” He screams. “You would actually tell me why Sloth hates me! You would tell me why I have this power, these limbs, a-and where I came from! You just keep me trapped here day and night to do nothing but get beaten up or abandoned!” Angry tears spill from his purple eyes. “NONE OF YOU CARE ABOUT ME, AND YOU CARE EVEN LESS !”

Dante stares at him with a cold expression that is very unsettlingly similar to Sloth’s, but somehow more spiteful. Regardless, Wrath doesn’t take back anything he said, because he’s too frustrated to back down. He’s not afraid of Dante, either, since she’s not threatening.

That is, when the human woman heads to an old wardrobe Wrath never peeked in, since it’s locked, and he hears her opening it. From here, he can’t see exactly what Dante has taken, but he’ll soon find out. Once she turns around, she’s carrying a big object covered in a dusty white sheet.

Despite not seeing what it must be, Wrath feels… dread growing inside him.

“W-What’s… that?” He asks, voice much smaller than before.

Dante smiles, remaining unsettling.

She removes the white sheet.

Wrath faces the dark.

Smells the metal.

Feels it.

Hears it.

For some reason, that thing makes him unable to move or speak.

“This is where you came from,” Dante says simply. “It’s scary, isn’t it? You were born in this huge suit of armor. You were alone and miserable when I took you in. I’ve taken care of you since then, and yet you really think I don’t care?”

Wrath gulps, managing out, “I-I… m-meant that…”

“You know how much I have to do to look after everyone? I can’t always make time for you, dear.”

“I know, but–”

“If you knew, you would show it.” The same words he used, but sadder, hurt. “You have to understand, I’m doing this for your own good. Soon, you’ll thank me.”

Wrath would have spoken further, but he realizes the helmet is approaching him. His head.

“W-What are you-?!”

“Shhh… it will only be for a while, sweetheart.”

“N-No, wait!” Wrath steps back until he’s trapped by the wall, with no way to escape. That helmet is limiting his movements and his thinking. “Please, d-don’t do this!”

“You will be alright.”

“No, please! Please, I’ll be good!” Wrath heaves and cries. “I’m sorry! I’M SORRY!”

In so much pain, he yells the loudest he can, until… everything stops.

He stops.

Wrath’s limbs don’t work, so he sits on the floor uncomfortably. His mouth can barely move and his eyes won’t even blink. It’s like he’s a corpse. No, worse, a doll.

The helmet is too big on him, too dark, but he can see Dante smiling at him one last time before leaving the room, the door still open. If Wrath is not too consumed by the metal, he might as well hear other voices coming from outside.

“What happened to the problem child?” Lust teases, unimpressed.

Dante snorts. “He just needs some time to think after misbehaving. I made sure he won’t repeat it any sooner.”

As usual, nobody questions it, and Dante finally closes the door, leaving Wrath alone and unable to move. This is torture. This is worse than Envy hitting him or Sloth ignoring him. Instead, it’s Wrath being trapped in a prison of metal, by a mellow-speaking Dante.

It reminds him of when he woke up, inside a dark and empty shell. At the time, Wrath was so scared that he panicked and managed to get out, only to face the fallen helmet of a huge metal armor. That was the first thing Wrath saw, and he was horrified. He had to push these feelings aside to get Sloth out of that basement, but ever since then, these feelings have been haunting him in his dreams. But they were never as intense and clear as they are now.

Because now Wrath has proof of where he came from, and it hurts.

Thus, he must never know the truth.

Next chapter

#fullmetal alchemist #fma 03 #alphonse elric #fma dante #fma envy #fma sloth #fma 03 sloth #abuse tw #child abuse tw #violence tw #neglect tw #homunculus al #homunculus alphonse elric #fma au #death mention tw #fanfiction #long post #alternate universe

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strangefellows · 2 years

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So, yeah, here’s a bunch of stuff about my FGO Master, Komadori Fujimaru!

I know a lot of people go Full OC with their mastersona, but I really, really like Gudako’s design, so I stick with that but made her my own! Very very much my own.

Featuring her with her best bud Cu and her shiny asshole boyfriend Gil, and her usual mission team. (Yes it’s unbalanced AF no I don’t care about the meta.)

If you can’t read Komadori’s bio, it’s as follows (with her major relationships!); see readmore~

Komadori Fujimaru, age 22 (as of 2015), college grad -- anthropology major -- and part time librarian who rolled on into Chaldea to avoid the crippling existential ennui and depression brought on by losing her brother Ritsuka (yes, ‘Gudao’) when they were kids traumatically and her horrible neglectful parents. Before Chaldea, she was deeply lonely and just going through the motions save for her one true passion -- history/anthropology, which she loved since she was a child; myths and legends and the heroes within had been basically her only friends for most of her life. So, in Chaldea, this is basically her dream come true, she adores it there, it’s the best thing to ever happen to her, she’s genuinely happy and surrounded by friends for the first time since Ricchan died.

She’s an absolute troll chaos gremlin loud sarcastic force of nature, she is, she does not take shit, she isn’t afraid of you, and she will do stupid shit for the lols. Like, all of the troll/silly/jokey dialogue options? Her. She’s just full of life and cheer and joy and love for all of this period, and it means the world to her that she’s not pretending anymore. She is living her best life. She is also a huge, huge nerd, and will make pop culture jokes.

Unfortunately she also has PTSD from losing her brother how she did -- he saved her from a car accident at the cost of his life -- so, she uh. Does not handle heroic sacrifices or similar very well. At all. This proves very fun for her! (Not.)

Being told ‘welcome home’ (okaeri, more or less) means a lot to her too due to her previous loneliness, and it WILL make her cry.

She is -- in universe anyway -- a pro at summoning to abnormal levels, and most Servants she summons remember the Singularities/Lostbelts even when they’re technically not supposed to. No one is sure why, especially since she’s totally average a mage otherwise. She’s just completely a prodigy when i comes to specifically he handling of Heroic Spirits.

( This is because, unbeknownst to her or anyone else because the initial medical exam missed it and then Chaldea blew up so the equipment just wasn’t available for them to figure it out, she’s a homunculus. She and her brother were created by British mages and their cores were attuned to Alaya and Gaia respectively; they were inactive, though, so they were shipped off to a nonmage ally family, the Fujimarus, for observation. But once Ritsuka died, the whole project was axed because what use is one without the other? Her core, however, activated when she hit Chaldea, so she is absolutely just a slowly-awakening conduit for Alaya and the Throne of Heroes. As for Ritsuka...well, his story might not be as over as it seems. He’s a conduit for Gaia, after all. )

As for relationships...

She fell very hard for Roman by the end of the Grand Order, and was thusly devastated at the Temple, especially because she never got to tell him. This ‘Chaldean’ guy in the Lostbelts is both a spot of hope and ENDLESSLY GODDAMN FRUSTRATING, WHO THE FUCK ARE YOU.

She also fell extremely hard for Gilgamesh -- of ALL people, she’s aware her taste is questionable but she’d loved the Epic before Chaldea shut up -- during Babylonia, and she basically spent the whole time sassing/flirting with him. She at first thought he was gorgeous but an insufferable prick, but warmed to him and by the end she had fallen very hard and basically almost cried into the summoning circle after Temple for him to come home. Lucky for her, her very vibrant personality and the way she both respects him and takes ABSOLUTELY NONE of his shit made the affection reciprocal. They’re awful, they sass each other constantly, get a room you losers. She wears his Valentine’s present bracelet all the time.

Her 100% top best friends are Robin, Cu, and Merlin.

Merlin and her are terrible gossipy trolls who sip tea together and talk shit, and bond over missing Roman if/when they get stupid drunk. She adores this absolute shithead wizard man. She WILL roast him constantly, with affection.

Robin she befriended in America and they got a lot closer when he brought him to Babylonia with her; they have a pretty close friendship -- her name, Komadori, means ‘robin’, so she was fond of him as a folk hero before Chaldea, and she was delighted to meet him. They’re bird buddies! Their relationship is basically him going WHY ARE YOU LIKE THIS while she does dumb shit, but with fond exasperation. Someone has to carry her out of stupid situations, after all!

Cu was always one of her all time favorite legends, and she summoned him literally right after Singularity F; however, they didn’t bond until America. Because yes, they had the horrible luck of Cu going to America with her. The, uh, repeated slam dunks into Cu’s repressed trauma buttons made Komadori super protective, and at this point they are absolutely ride or die for each other. He’s the first person she goes to if she needs support or to talk or vent.

Drake is...well, they got drunk and probably had sex the first time they met in Okeanos? They’re basically drinking buddy besties with benefits. Komadori absolutely adores the woman, what a great friend.

Komadori ended up with a huge, huge, huge crush on Musashi, and considers her her best girlfriend, and Musashi feels the same, they’re ridiculous chaos gremlin gals, Shimousa was a ride, Vegas was a ride, best galpals ever. Olympus Sucked.

Emiya was one of the other first Servants Komadori called after Fuyuki, and at this point he’s her tired sarcastic protagonist brother-from-another-mother, they’re both full of sass and doneness and snark and Really Exasperated 20-Somethings. They have a bit of a clash over Komadori’s relationship with Gil, given Emiya remembers UBW and is wary of him, but they mostly agree to disagree on that and get on well otherwise.

Mash is Komadori’s baby sister, she imprinted on her as a sort of...”I failed my baby brother but I’ll protect her now” thing. She absolutely would kill and die for Mash, her baby sister. Baby. Protecc. Baby.

Honorable mentions for Servants Komadori’s really close to are: Dantes, Mordred, Ushiwakamaru, Osakabe, Mandricardo, Jeanne Alter, Jinako, Sanson, and obviously Enkidu (they double team Gil it’s hilarious). Moriarty is her Evil Ojiisan and she loves him too.

Oberon-Vortigern is TBA, along with Castoria; I am 90% blind for LB6 so will decide her relationship to them along the way, but tentatively Castoria is Little Sister #2 and ObeVorti is gonna either be a bestie or she’s going to fall hard.

#fgo #fate grand order #fgo master oc #REPOST BC I HATE THE APP #chara: king of glitter and gold #chara: a king's quiet wish #chara: of dreams and flowers #chara: loyal hound of blue #chara: nothing is ever forgotten #chara: everyone's hero #chara: little bird of chaldea #chara: lady of the void #chara: shield heart girl #chara: white dragon of the abyss

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thefamilyeldritchabomination · 3 months

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Chapter Twenty One: Quidam Pt. 2

“Just…what the hell are you!?” Hohenheim regained his composure for a moment as Dolly stood there for a moment, thinking very thoughtfully about that very question.

“You know, the funny thing is, I’ve been asking the same thing myself for the longest time. However, we will be leaving with William right now. Humphrey, ready to depart this household of filth?” Dolly said, smiling a bit at the irony of such a question being brought up to her.

“You just vaporized my hideously awful wife!” Hohenheim protested before a very sharp blade came up to his neck.

“Yes and she made for a mighty fine mist for sure. You sir, however, I’ll gut like a fish if you continue to stand in our way.” Humphrey gave Hohenheim the look of being very prepared to field dress the alchemist on the spot if he didn’t let the group leave in peace.

“Okay WIlliam, let’s get you back to our household and doctor you up the best we can, alright?” Dolly comforted Envy as Humphrey made his way towards Dolly, his knife posed for throwing should Hohenheim make a dumb decision.

Once Humphrey was close enough to the meatball and Dolly, they disappeared from Hohenheim’s sight like specters of retributions for misdeeds. Envy felt queasy as they reappeared in the room they had formerly stayed in before becoming a homunculus. Humphrey wasted no time in running to fetch the medical equipment the moment they reached home as Dolly went into comforting mode, especially seeing as one of her humans was responsible for this event. Envy, for once, was very welcoming of this change of pace of people actually caring about their own well being and being treated like a person instead of some sort of unholy meat construct. A look over took Dolly, as though on autopilot, likely from Survive taking Dolly over to teach her a little thing about her body as Dolly’s nail cut open a wound on her own hand. The blood poured into the cupped hand as Dolly brought it up to Envy’s mouth to feed them the rather awful medical solution. Because Envy was nothing more than a fleshy meatball, they couldn’t escape being fed Dolly’s blood and she was very much on point, that shit was like buttercream in terms of sweetness.

“Holy shit! Dolly what are you doing!?” Humphrey gasped in horror as the wound on Dolly’s hand started to mend itself on its own.

“Fixing William…” Dolly softly said as she regained control of her bodily functions.

“....Feeding William your blood is not something I think would…fuck that’s actually working…” Humphrey stared in shock that the meatball was slowly starting to regain a humanoid form after consuming blood.

“...We’re going to make you feel all better soon and we’re going to make sure you never have to see that terrible man ever again.” Dolly gave the mutating meatball a comforting hug as Envy was ready to vow to never have Dolly blood ever again.

“Fairytale….you need to cut out the sugar….it’s too sweet…” Envy pleaded, the sugar levels were too much for the other sugar fiend.

“Sir, Dolly here is pretty much a sugar based lifeform of sorts. We are very certain her existence is maintained by flesh and sugar, therefore you’re gonna have to deal with the syrupy sweet blood.” Humphrey couldn’t look away from the clear science project that was Envy’s transition into a barely passing human-like form instead of that awful meatball moments ago.

“No…it's not syrup…it's beyond that point…it’s flavored like buttercream...how does that even happen?” Envy finally got functional hands to gesture with to convey that point.

“Well Dolly, you know the saying, no good deed goes unpunished.” Humphrey patted Dolly on the back, still horrified a bit that Dolly’s blood had that ability.

“Upside William, you’re recovering…I think..” Dolly watched on as Envy finished getting as close to human as they could get after the gruesome remedy.

It didn’t take long for Envy to develop legs as Dolly and Humphrey carefully guided them to the bed to rest after such a terrible experience. It would take a few hours until Envy would fully resemble how they used to look as William did before Daddy’s little tango with the reanimation of dead tissue happened. Envy, for once, was able to relax after being allowed time to be to themself for a bit as Dolly carefully brought in a meal. The smell of cinnamon was strong in the soup with chicken floating on the surface of the creamy stock as it got set up next to Envy’s bedside. Dolly gently glanced at Envy as she got a goblet of warmed mead on the bedside table and smiled. Envy relaxed a bit that there were no hard feelings over the comment about the concerningly sweet blood from before. With a chair pulled up, Dolly prepared to spoon up some of the soup to feed Envy before Envy took the soup and spoon to feed themself. Relaxed that Envy had some dexterity regained in their newly reformed hand, Dolly decided to just hang out with Envy to support them.

“I’m glad you’re able to use your hands, I was worried about that seeing as you had to redevelop them.” Dolly said finally once Envy had finished their bowl of soup.

“I’m glad too..Dolly, thank you for obliterating that hideous mother of mine and getting me out of that hellhole…I don’t know what would’ve happened if I were to stay there..” Envy said as they moved onto the mead next to enjoy.

“I don’t know either, but I couldn’t leave you there in that state. We’ll figure out some things for you once you’re fully recovered, just know you’re family now and we’re going to protect you should that father of yours show up again.” Dolly said, still rather pissed at Envy’s father and how he had handled things prior.

“That means a lot, I don’t ever want that man in my presence ever again. Thank you for not even asking about what happened before.” Envy leaned back a bit in the bed after putting the mead down on the bedside table.

“I figured it’d be too soon to ask, I'd rather have you relaxing and decompressing after that ordeal.” Dolly felt a bit of relief that Envy wasn’t upset by the fact she basically turned their mother into a fine meat mist moments ago.

With a smile, relaxed that Dante and Hohenheim were completely removed from their life, Envy went back to sleep to recover from the past trauma that didn’t happen all too long ago. The relief was great, knowing that Dante, if she ever pissed Dolly far enough, could just punch the hermit crab hag off the mortal coil with little effort. Sure, Gluttony would be thoroughly upset that there would be no meat leftover from the muscle dense impact, but at the same time it would’ve been for the best that Gluttony didn’t eat Dante. Only the gods know what would’ve happened if that goober ate the mortal remains of a truly monstrous creature like Dante. The familiar sense of falling had returned as Envy’s consciousness was being pulled away from the simulation of the requested what if and back to the waking world, waiting for them to return. There was no resistance, no anger, and importantly, no hatred from being brought back to everyone awaiting for Envy’s return. This was the rebirth that Envy had hoped for and they were ready to do the next big step, telling Hohenheim to go fuck himself and to get lost.

=======================================================================

#The Wayfarer #FMA 03 #Fullmetal Alchemist #Fan Fiction #FMA Fan Fiction #Writing #Envy #Envy the Jealous #OCs #Homunculus #Homunculi

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kumeko · 2 years

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A/N: For the @dsazines ! Mainly written because I need more Scar being accidental guardian.

…

Scar was used to surprises: the annoying, the bad, and the entirely unwanted. Half of these he’d brought onto himself—in his rush for vengeance, he hadn’t stopped to breathe, to think, to plan. He remembered that blood-soaked sand and fought.

Still, he couldn’t deny that there were a few good surprises. Scar looked up from the flickering fire heating up their small cabin to the small girl puttering around the big room excited. Her long black braids just barely managed to stay out of the pots and dishes she prepared, her small panda directly on her shoulder. He couldn’t help but smile at the sight. He had some regrets in his life but May crashing into them was not one of them. Despite himself, he was drawn to the overeager teenager and the warmth she offered.

Though, they needed more than just her warmth here. Scar glanced at the window to his right. Luckily, it hadn’t snowed yet, but they were far enough up north that it wouldn’t shock him if it had. The cabin’s walls were sturdy, but the wind still seeped in through the cracks, sending a small draft if you stood in the wrong spot. To think they would have to hunker down up here as they hid from immortal enemies.

To think he would also be hiding with a doctor who helped kill his people and a demon.

A demon.

Scar didn’t know what to do with that info yet. He glanced at the square dining table, just big enough to fit all four of them comfortably. Seated with her back to the window, a small girl watched May’s movements eagerly. With her pale skin, slight build, and darker hair, she looked like she’d come from Xing or somewhere further east of there. At the very least, she looked nothing like the golden Amestris or his own people.

Not that there was any point in speculating. The demon couldn’t explain anything. Her jaws were clamped shut around a muffle, limiting her to just grunts and growls. She didn’t know how to write. May had wanted to take off the muzzle, but Scar had refused.

May forgot sometimes, just what Nezuko was. It was very easy to miss just how otherworldly she looked until you saw her eyes: bright pink, almost luminescent in the dark. Nezuko looked at him, noticing his stare, her expression unreadable. If they took off the muzzle, would she come at him with those fangs? Would she strike May with those razor-sharp claws?

Maybe. Maybe not. Her brother had sworn otherwise when Scar and May had first stumbled onto the pair. It was the only reason he’d held his hand then, and the only reason he still hadn’t killed her now, weeks later, after a fight with Muzan had forced them to separate.

Actually, he wasn’t sure why he’d let her follow them around. Between chimera, homunculus, and the all-too-human alchemists of Amestris, he had his fill of monsters without discovering the existence of actual demons too. While Nezuko shared none of their bloodlust, it was only a matter of time.

“Almost done!” May announced, standing on her tippy-toes as she lifted the lid off a pot on the stove. A warm, heady scent filled the air, familiar herbs mixing together in unfamiliar ways. Taking a deep breath, she sighed happily. Her panda did the same, slumping on her neck. “Ah, it’s been so long since I had this.”

It smelled better than he’d expected. Despite how childish she acted, May was surprisingly reliable. She’d spent the past few hours chopping up vegetables and meat before slow-cooking the whole thing. The patience she showed in little else manifested entirely in here and if she didn’t take over her clan, she should consider becoming a cook.

Noticing his stare, May bit her cheek thoughtfully. “This is…” She swished the contents side to side. “It’s kinda like a stew? I’m not sure there’s something like that over here, but it’s amazing. You’ll love it. Well, not as much as you would if you came home with me and we used actual ingredients. But you’ll still like this.”

Scar hadn’t even needed to ask what she was making. A mere raise of his brow was enough for her to answer. It was a little unsettling how she could read his expressions now. He hadn’t thought anyone was close enough to do that anymore. He hadn’t even thought of himself as particularly emotive.

Then again, he asked May questions too these days, and perhaps the more unnerving changes were the ones in him.

“Hm.” Scar didn’t get up. The firelight flickered on his sepia skin. The moon rose slowly in the clear sky. Marcoh would be home soon, his last patient taken care of.

Nezuko leaned against her chair, her body twisting as she stared out the window curiously. Despite her strength, she suffered a fatal weakness: sunlight. She would never know what this village looked like in the day, bustling with life. He would have pitied her, if he hadn’t seen the destruction other demons had wrought firsthand.

“Come on, stop staring and start eating.” With a clatter, May set the steel pot on the table. She glared at him when he still didn’t get up. “It tastes better hot.”

Nezuko turned back, her messy black hair framing her face and giving her an almost childlike appearance. Her brother claimed she was just fourteen. Scar had his doubts, even about the ‘brother’ aspect. Rocking in her chair, Nezuko leaned forward and studied the pot.

“Want some?” Excited, May picked up a bowl, already ladling a portion. Despite being the shorter of the pair, she was also the older one, and Scar had noticed that something about that had enamoured her. The entire time they’d been here, May had mothered and babied Nezuko, acting more like an older sister than a stranger pulled in by chance. “I know you’ll love the taste.”

Nezuko sniffed the bowl curiously and grunted happily before setting it down and pushing it back.

“Still nothing? I’m sure Tanjiro wants you to eat too.” May picked up a knife, eyeing Nezuko’s muzzle distastefully. “We need to get rid of that.”

“Don’t,” Scar immediately interrupted, getting up. He shot May a dark look. “If that goes, so does she.”

“She won’t eat us!” May argue, lips pursed. Her panda scampered down her arm and stood on the table, all two inches and stubborn despite that. Mei-Mei stood on his hind legs, acting like a far bigger bear. “Right, Nezuko?”

Nezuko nodded, her expression guileless.

Scar frowned. This wasn’t the first time they’d had this argument. “She is a demon. Don’t forget that.”

“She’s Nezuko. We have to protect her until we see her brother again.” May stepped forward, hands on her hips as she glared. “Her brother is a prince.” She clasped her hands together, her expression softening. “Almost as great as my prince, even.”

He already knew where this was going. “That doesn’t—”

“He’s amazing and kind and strong and handsome and—” May rested the back of her hand on her forehead, almost swooning at the memory of their meeting weeks ago. “If he and Al fought over me, where should I go? Who should I choose?” She whirled around, grabbing Nezuko’s hands. “We could be sisters. And I wouldn’t have to deal with that short loser.”

Nezuko’s expression was as exasperated as Scar felt. She nodded slightly, clearly not getting it. This wasn’t the first time May had bemoaned her fate, after all.

He interrupted before she got lost any further in her fantasies. “The second she tries anything, she’s dead.”

May’s eyes widened. “But she’s helped us.”

“She’s done nothing,” Scar disagreed. “Which is the only reason she’s still here.”

Her jaw set, a rare show of anger. “She has—”

Marcoh opened the door. His nose was red from the cool night air and he pulled off his coat. “Sorry I’m late—am I interrupting something?”

May glared at Scar but backed down. For now, at least. “You’re just in time for dinner!”

“That’s good.” Marcoh turned around. In the warm light, Scar could just make out the extent of his disfigurement. Destroying his face had been a death of sorts. Scar felt a stirring of…not quite hate, not quite joy, but something dark and messy at the sight. Revenge was a complicated matter. He doubted he’d ever fully untangle it.

“We can all eat together,” May continued.

“That’s…Oh.” Warily, Marcoh approached the table, showing a modicum of sense as he slowly slipped into his seat. The cabin was a simple one, with only one internal wall dividing the bedroom from the rest of the place. There wasn’t anywhere to hide should Nezuko spring out of control. His eyes flickered to Nezuko, then to his hands. “Anything happen?”

“No,” Scar answered simply. “You?”

Marcoh shook his head, his fingers digging into the table nervously. “No. I don’t think anyone has found us yet.”

That yet hung over them like an axe. They should move soon. Even this sleepy village wasn’t so remote the Crimson Alchemist, homunculus, or the demons couldn’t find them. Scar wasn’t sure if they were all working together, or if it was just a sick coincidence that they often couldn’t fight one group without the other.

Besides, he had only wanted to hide long enough to figure out his next move. This was never intended to be a permanent situation.

Ignoring their conversation, May hummed happily as she dug into her food. “Even better than I remembered.”

Marcoh’s expression softened, his body relaxing slightly. “You must be homesick.”

“A little.” May stared at her food for a moment before shaking out of it. It seemed forced when she straightened up and smiled proudly. “But no one else in my clan could do this but me.”

If she was the best her clan could offer, no wonder they were afraid of the future. Scar wisely held his tongue, instead taking a spoonful of her ‘stew’. A rich, heavy taste flooded his senses. It was stronger than he would have liked, but still tasty. May watched him expectantly.

“Not bad,” he muttered.

She beamed. “I knew you’d like it.”

That wasn’t what he said.

May reached over and squeezed Nezuko’s hand. “Are you homesick too? Don’t worry, we’ll meet your brother soon.”

“We’ll find him soon,” Marcoh agreed. Curiosity getting the better of him, he asked, “Does this remind you of home too? You’re from Xing too, right?”

“I don’t think so.” May shook her head. “Tanjiro sounded like he came from further east…from one of the island nations near Xing.” She scratched her chin sheepishly. “I don’t know too much about it; it’s a tiny place.”

“Further east?” Marcoh asked, interested.

Nezuko suddenly looked up, her brows knitting as she glared a whole into the ceiling. A soft, gravelly growl erupted from her, her claws digging into the table.

“Nezuko?” May gently squeezed Nezuko’s hand again. The demon didn’t react, her gaze still focused on some invisible enemy. “Are you okay?”

Her growling grew stronger and Scar jumped to his feet. A sharp stench filled his nose, a wooden bar splintered above them, and that was the only warning they got before someone crashed through the ceiling. No, not someone. Scar recognized those long claws, those glowing eyes, those bared fangs. With her long blonde hair and bright orange eyes, the demon didn’t look like anyone Scar knew. If it weren’t for her eerie looks, she seemed like any Amestris woman.

Scar kicked his chair at the demon as he whirled around. “Take Marcoh and run,” he ordered, his eyes never leaving his enemy.

The demon swatted the chair away easily, her lips curling into a smirk. He didn’t recognize her clothing, the style only vaguely similar to May’s clothes. She commented idly, “You look strong.”

He didn’t bother to reply as he charged. From the corner of his eye, May grabbed Marcoh and Nezuko, all but pushing them to the door. A familiar energy pulsed through his arm. Scar swung at the demon but she dodged, her hair flying as she leapt out of reach.

One of May’s daggers flew through the air, cutting her cheek. Scar knew without looking that no one had actually left the building, despite the dangers inside. “There’s just one, we can take her,” May stated.

“Nice aim.” The demon smirked, her lips curled back just enough to reveal her sharp teeth.

“Thanks.” Quick-witted as ever, May sent two more knives chasing the first and the demon grunted as she ducked. Scar didn’t hesitate before he touched the ground, his arm glowing as he destroyed the area beneath her.

“What the—” The demon yelped as she tumbled backward into the pit.

“We need to go,” Scar ordered. The hole wasn’t that deep and he rarely saw demons alone.

“How did they find us?” Marcoh staggered backward, slumping slightly as he hit the wooden wall.

“Doesn’t matter.” The demon’s eyes were numberless. If they were lucky, the small fry had found them without alerting any of the stronger demons.

Or maybe she was looking for Nezuko’s help. Scar chanced a glance over his shoulder. Nezuko crouched defensively in front of Marcoh, but it could still just be a ploy. “We need to—”

Nezuko growled again, yanking Marcoh away from the wall just as a powerful fist broke through, splintering the wood. Outside, a demon cursed loudly, his hand snaking back out.

“Why are they so strong?” May complained, trembling despite her show of bravado.

As though in response, the demon burst through the window. If the other demon seemed to be from Amestris, this one looked like he’d come from Xing with his long robes and raven hair. Scar wasn’t looking forward to the day he found an Ishvalan one.

May crouched defensively in front of her charges before springing forward, her fists already flying. As usual, her fighting style was as fluid as a raging stream, her body spinning as she alternated between punches and kicks. Nezuko tensed in front of Marcoh, her gaze focused on the fight as she anticipated when to strike.

All it would take was a single cut, a drop of blood, and May would face two demons instead of one. There was no way Nezuko could resist such an easy target.

Scar ran forward. “I’ll—”

“Did you forget about me?” the Amestrian demon purred.

He was blindsided by a kick to his side. Scar crashed into the wall, a jolt of pain running through his spine before he slid to the ground.

“I really hate it when men forget about me,” the demoness sighed. “I thought you were stronger than that.”

This room was too small, too crowded for him to fight without bringing it down on Marcoh’s and May’s heads. Scar gritted his teeth as he forced himself on his foot, wiping the blood from his lips. The wall behind him was solid, but if there was one thing he’d learned: if there wasn’t an exit, he could make one.

His fingers sparked with power before he destroyed the wall and ran through it. As soon as he did that, the Amestrian demon kicked him again, but this time he was ready for it. He ducked and tripped her, sending her flying out of the house and rolling into the tree outside.

She was even faster to her feet than he’d been. “You.”

He didn’t say anything, merely readied himself for her next attack. There were no neighbours nearby, their house just isolated enough that no one could see the commotion. It was perfect.

Without another word, she ran toward him, her long hair flowing behind her. Scar had just enough time to raise his fists and take a more defensive stance. He blocked her attack, swatting her punch away and retaliating with one of his own. As she dodged, it glanced off her shoulder with just enough force that she stumbled backward.

Inside the house, he heard a high-pitched scream. A teenager’s. May’s. Immediately, he turned, his body moving before he could think.

“Don’t take your eyes off me,” the demon growled, sliding between him and the house. She scratched him, her nails digging into his cheek and chest before he shoved her away.

Scar ground his teeth. The demoness was getting in the way. There hadn’t been another sound since the scream. Had she recovered? Been injured?

Died?

He froze, surprised at his worry. When had he last had someone to worry about?

The Amestrian demon kicked him, sending him flying into a tree. It was the wakeup call he needed. There was no time to think about May, not yet. He had to deal with this first. This time, he let the energy seep into his arm and he punched the ground, sending his deconstructive alchemy rippling through the dirt. The demon cackled as she jumped away.

“Fool me once!” she sang, glancing at the hole he’d made. “How tiny.”

Scar didn’t give her a chance to breathe before charging at her. Despite her small frame, she was surprisingly strong; all demons felt like he was fighting a bear and not a human. They exchanged blows: punch, block, punch, deflect. Her claws dug into his flesh like mincemeat. Whoever she was, her skills were strong.

If he had been an ordinary human, he wouldn’t have lasted this long. As it was, his left hand could destroy with the right hit. As his hand grazed her skin, he pulsed his deconstructive power. She jumped away, but not before her arm fell off.

“You bastard,” she growled, rage flashing across her face. Her movements were faster, sloppier, and Scar knew how to deal with that.

He swept her feet with a kick, sending her tumbling onto the ground. Without missing a beat, he hit her square on her chest. She screamed as his power coursed through her, dismantling her. Scar didn’t wait for her to disappear before he raced back to the house.

There still hadn’t been another sound after May’s scream.

There hadn’t even been a familiar jolt of her lightning.

His fist curled tighter, his nails digging into this skin.

Inside, the dining table and kitchen were in shambles. Chairs overturned, the table split in two, pots and knives scattered across the floor. May’s daggers were embedded everywhere. Marcoh crouched near the door, his gaze terrified as he stared at the two demons fighting right outside the broken window. Next to him, May lay unconscious, blood dribbling down her forehead.

Scar’s jaw clenched. “How is she?” he asked, his tone clipped.

“A-alive.” Marcoh shivered. “But I need to get to my kit to help her and it’s…”

March gestured helplessly at the window. His first aid kit was under it, upside down and a mess. It was also way too close to the fight. A blow from the Xing demon and Nezuko flew back into the room, grunting as she hit a chair.

Nezuko growled as she picked herself up. She didn’t look like the girl happily watching May cook hours ago. No, she was taller now, older even, looking more like a woman than a child. A leafy tattoo circled her legs and her eyes were now a fiery shade of pink. Her muzzle was gone, revealing a full set of sharp fangs.

Now that she was closer, he realized with a jolt her arm was missing. Despite that though, every part of her screamed danger.

The other demon gritted his teeth as he stumbled outside. At some point, he’d lost a leg, and while it was regrowing, it couldn’t keep up with Nezuko’s claws as she leapt out the window and pounced on him once more. There was something almost animalistic about the way she tore through him. He fought back, his fists strong enough to send Nezuko flying back into the wall.

But not strong enough to keep her down. Nezuko got up again, already shaking off the injury.

Begrudgingly, he had to admit she was far stronger than he’d thought.

As the pair fought outside, Scar ran to the window, picking up the bag and hurling it at Marcoh. “Catch.”

He didn’t wait for a response before leaping outside. Nezuko backhanded the Xing demon, sending him tumbling down. Without legs to escape with, he was a sitting duck. Scar slammed his hand hard on the demon’s chest.

The demon panicked immediately, his arms flailing wildly. It wasn’t enough and he screamed as Scar’s alchemy flowed through him, disintegrating him.

Nezuko blinked, her body stilling as her opponent disappeared. Scar watched her warily, anticipating her next movement. Her arm slowly regrew, a sight that he had yet to get used to. She stared at him, her eyes widening as she took in his bloody form.

Scar snorted. Without a distraction, the scent of his and May’s blood was irresistible. It was something he had warned May of time and time again: no matter how different Nezuko acted, she was still a demon.

And after a fight like this, she needed to eat.

He tensed, readying himself for the killing blow as Nezuko’s gaze slid past him and to the window before resting on May. Her eyes widened and she quickly walked forward.

Scar growled, lunging forward. “No, you don’t—”

“Wait!” Marcoh shouted, shakily getting to his feet.

Scar just barely restrained himself. “What?”

“Look.” He pointed as Nezuko slowly stepped through the window and dug through a pile of rubble. After a few minutes, she pulled out her muzzle and bit into it. There was something very are you happy now? about the way she looked at Scar before turning her attention back to May.

Marcoh sank down beside May once more, his fingers shaking as he pulled out gauze. “She won’t do anything.”

He didn’t believe that in the least. Scar stalked after her, ready to attack at the first sign of danger. Reaching May, Nezuko whined as she poked her.

“She’ll be fine,” Marcoh assured softly, shivering as he smiled. “Just needs some rest.”

Nezuko studied him for a moment, then May. With a nod, she sat and curled up beside May. Her eyes closed and within seconds, she was asleep.

“Nezuko?” Marcoh hesitantly reached out to poke her. When she didn’t react, he sank back onto his haunches and sighed in relief. “She really didn’t do anything.”

Scar shot him a dirty look before picking up May. There was too much dust and debris here for them to take care of her. “You shouldn’t have stopped me.”

“May would have been sad.” Marcoh carefully patted the blood on May’s head. “And she saved us. As soon as May collapsed, Nezuko kept the demon away from us.”

Scar glanced at Nezuko. Still asleep. Like this, she almost looked like a child. She almost looked like May. There was a strange sense of innocence that he’d thought impossible to a demon. Tearing his eyes away, he headed further into the cabin. “Take your kit to the bedroom. Patch May up. We have to go.”

“R-right.” Marcoh nodded, scrambling after him.

While still messy—the fight had shaken up the entire cabin, spreading the chaos around—the room was in one piece and so were the beds. Scar carefully lay May down.

Marcoh was already emptying his kit on the bedsheets. “She just needs a little rest, but she should be fine after that.”

“Good.” Scar left the room. Stepping through the new hole in the wall, he circled the cabin. The wind blew, rustling the leaves and grass, but there was nothing that sounded or smelled like a demon. For a little while, they should be safe at least.

As he returned to the cabin, he studied Nezuko. Still fast asleep, her body had once again shrunk to her usual size. While her arm was back, the rest of her still bore the scratches and bruises of her fight.

She had protected May.

It would have been easier if she had sided with the demons, but she hadn’t.

She helped us. May had been right. Scar didn’t know how to feel about it. He didn’t know how to face the blonde girl crying revenge for her parents. He didn’t know how to handle the slowly shifting truths of this world. What he did know, however, was that he owed Nezuko.

And Scar never liked staying in debt. Scooping Nezuko in his arms, he returned to the bedroom and gently deposited her next to the now-bandaged May. Marcoh raised a brow but didn’t question. He quickly checked Nezuko and shook his head. “I think she’s fine, but I’m not certain. Her brother said she needed sleep to regain her energy. I wonder why she’s not like the other demons?”

Not like the other demons. It was as good a way to describe her as any. Nothing about her fit the profile of all the monsters he’d fought, only in her weaknesses was she the same. Nezuko was another surprise in his life, but maybe she wasn’t a bad one.

Still, Scar reattached her muzzle. He was confused, not foolish. “I’ll be back in an hour. Get packed by then.”

“Where are you going?” Marcoh asked, perplexed.

Scar glanced at Nezuko. “To make a box.”

#nezuko kamado #scar #may chang #kny #fma #fullmetal alchemist #kimetsu no yaiba #mei chang #tim marcoh #fanfic

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space-dragon-ace · 2 years

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The word with C

Pairing: PLATONIC!!! Albedo & Homunculus!Child!Reader Description: You are Albedo's creation, yet you have his DNA. Will he ever see you as his child? Word count: 1433 Additional info: This is not meant to be romantic, but purely platonic bonding. Tagging @clouds-rambles & @deadlyboyy

You happily smiled at Albedo, kicking your legs as he examined you. It was the second time this week he took your measurements, checked your height, your weight, and just about everything you had. You were his pride, his magnum opus, his creation. A homunculi, a creature that looked so human one could believe you were one. But that was the problem, you weren't. Albedo had created you in his lab, and he was not even completely sure how he did it! It had been an accident, Albedo had been experimenting with his own DNA, trying to find a way to give vision abilities to people who didn't held them. Then Klee had barged into the lab, and before either he or Sucrose could react, one of her bombs went off. When the dust had settled, Albedo wanted to see if he could save any of the data he gathered. Instead, he had seen you, a human looking baby, laying on the floor. In a span of just three days, you had matured into what resembled a ten-year old. All while barely needing any nutrients or hydration.

„That's it“, he said, writing down some notes „You can go now.“ You nodded and hopped down from the table. Carefully, you approached Albedo, trying to hug him, but he pushed you away. „I need to concentrate. Go play somewhere else or whatever.“ He waved his hand, dismissing you. Your smile turned into a frown, and you scuffled out of the laboratory, sulking a bit. Sucrose watched, biting her lip. „You shouldn't be so rude to them“, she said, „They are your child, after all. They want to be loved by you, and want your attention.“ He sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. Her words were true, he knew that, but yet... As much as he loved children, he could not see you as one. Could not see you as his child. He was not even human himself, so how could he be a father? What could it mean if his secret were to get out to the masses, how would they treat him? How would they treat you? He did not dare to think about the possibilities, each scenario his mind tried to come up with was worse than the last. Albedo had never been this afraid before.

Because once he would start seeing you as his child, he would love you. You would become his world, his light, the center of his universe. Like any good father, he would want to protect you from everything bad, would want you to be happy and safe, would worry and fear for you. You would be his greatest weakness, the one place to hit that would hurt more than anything else ever would. No, it was better to keep seeing you as a creature, as his creation. As long as he kept a distance, it would not hurt should anything happen to you. If it did, and you wouldn't be saved, you would just be another failed experiment. Something he tried once and then never again, and would forget soon enough. And for you, it was the best as well, Albedo was sure of it. He was an alchemist, and Dragonspine was his home. The cold, uncaring mountains were no place for a child. While he could withstand the cold just fine, he had learned very quickly that you couldn't, not at all. And you deserved to have friends, Klee already being all over you. So truly, what kind of father could he be to you, if he visited the city so rarely? He would either be never there, or keep you from all the things that made you happy. It was for the best to keep his distance.

A hand on his shoulder brought him back into reality. Sucrose looked at him, her eyes full of emotions he could not name. „Why don't you take a break for today and spent time with them?“, she suggested, a tiny smile on her lips. Albedo sighed again, shaking his head. „I can't. If I do, my creation will get used to my presence. I don't want that“, he said with a huff, focusing on his notes again. At least, he would, if Sucrose hadn't placed her hand on them. This time, he was met with daggers from her eyes when he looked up. „Do you not want them to get used to you? Or do you not want to get used to them? Who are you really thinking about here?“ Her voice was cold as ice and sharp as steel. Albedo groaned, pushing her hands from his notes. „This is not for you to care. Better watch over the experiments!“, he ordered her, staring her down. After a few more moments, she huffed, but turned away, allowing him to go back to his data.

---

The sun was setting already when he left the lab. The people in the streets walked quickly, scarfs and hats pulled deep into their faces. Winter was at the door, the temperatures already low. Not much longer and Mondstadt would be covered in snow, and the children would have snowball fights everywhere. He smiled at the idea of you being among them, happily laughing and having fun. A second later he shook his head. Keep distance, you were a creation, not a child. He could not let himself forget that. Klee ran up to him, a big smile on her face. „Good evening Mr. Albedo! Ready to go home?“, she asked, and giggled when he nodded. „I am. And you, Klee? On your way to keep Lady Jean on her toes or are you doing a slow evening?“ Klee giggled, rocking back and forth on her heels. „I'm doing nothing for the rest of the day. Did [Y/N] bring you flowers?“ Albedo blinked and tilted his head. Flowers? Why should you bring him flowers? „No, they didn't. Why would they?“ Now it was Klee's turn to blink, though it turned into a pout easily. „They said you were angry at them, and that they wanted to cheer you up. So I told them to bring you flowers. Kaeya always brings the women he likes flowers, and they get happy. And then [Y/N] ran off and said they'd bring you the most pretty flowers in Dragonspine.“ It took all but three seconds for the information to sink into Albedo's brain. You went to Dragonspine, alone, in this temperatures. You could be lost, you could be hurt, you could be dead. He was running before he knew it, the city flying past him. He needed to find you, and by Celestia, he needed you to be alive and well. His heart ached at the thought of not seeing you again, not being able to hear your voice again or never seeing you smile again. So much for keeping a distance.

He reached Dragonspine later than he wanted to, calling your name against the howling winds. With each passing second, your chances of survival were getting more slim, and the shiver he felt was not because of the cold. „[Y/N]!“, he called again, desperate for an answer. Tears burned in his eyes as he searched, your name echoing around every few seconds. Albedo prayed to Celestia for some kind of hint that would lead him to you, anything, he would take a miracle if he had to! „P-papa?“, a little voice called, and Albedo felt a boulder drop from his shoulders. He ran to the ledge the voice had come from, kneeling down and opening his arms. You stumbled out, your skin so cold and lips slightly blue. His heart clenched at the sight, and he pressed you as tight as he could against his body, hoping to warm you up a little bit. He thanked the Gods over and over on his way back to the city. You were alive, unharmed, and safe again. Safe in his arms, and he would not let you go. „'m sorry Papa, I couldn't find flowers for you. Please don't be mad“, you mumbled against his neck. Albedo inhaled shakily, hugging you closer. „It's okay, my dear. I'm not mad at you“, he promised. You sniffled a bit, your tiny hands clutching his shirt tighter. „It was so cold and dark. I was so scared“, you admitted, hoping he wouldn't think bad about you. But he merely kissed your temple and forehead, gentle and reassuring. „It's okay, you are safe now. Papa is here.“ You had been his creation. But now, Albedo could only see you as his child.

#genshin x male reader #genshin x gn reader #genshin x reader #genshin x female reader #albedo x reader #genshin impact albedo

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thekrazykeke · 2 years

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Got home and I was so exhausted, I just showered and fell into bed pretty much immediately. However, I’m up for now and I decided to actually get to making these character Picrews like I said (in reality I said moodboard but I’m tired--).

1.) Ri’en The Mistaken Divine

I'm off the deep end, watch as I dive in I'll never meet the ground Crash through the surface, where they can't hurt us We're far from the shallow now

My Elementalist. Sweet as sugar and protective of Shian, Ri’en casually adopted the homunculus, (or were they surprise kidnapped?) and escaped the facility with Ae-ri. Compassionate, humble, stoic and cautious, she fully plans to disappear from the world at first opportunity. It’s nice to be alive once again, but she’s done her part for humanity.

Honestly, I think I ship her with Frieda.

2.) Sirius The Eldritch Elder

Oh, my love What have I done? There's nowhere left for us to run And now I'm standing in the sunlight And I can't bear the sight of you

My Blood wielder. Stoic and proud, merciless and bold, but apathetic, he’s taken Shian with him from the facility, uncertain of his feelings regarding the fact that his heart resides in the homunculus. Literally lost control of his Abyssal form, chomped Amaryllis’ arm, and killed everyone except Ae-ri (the massive loss of control has this boy shook). Regardless of anything, it’s imperative that the child is protected, lest he expire again.

I ship him with Meidh.

3.) Rize The Unknown

I'm an Army built of only one Battle ready warrior, I've just begun You can try your hardest, I've already won You know it can't be taught Cause I started up a flame, with no choice but to burn A desire to live every moment that I earn

My Soulweaver. Expressive as ever, Rize was taunting and mocking Asol throughout their entire fight, ruthlessly using his subordinates against him at any opportunity and generally being a chaos gremlin. Humanity labeled her a villain, so she played a villain right up til the end, taking Asol’s eye as a last minute spiteful choice. Now that she’s alive again, she’s tentatively pleased but also conflicted; Shian is a kid, homunculus or not. ‘M thinking that she might see the child as a kid sibling, more than anything.

Because I live for angst, I naturally ship her with Asol.

4.) Altair The True Villain

Issues,‌ ‌I‌ ‌know‌ ‌I‌ ‌got‌ ‌issues‌ ‌ Hate‌ ‌you‌ ‌then‌ ‌I‌ ‌miss‌ ‌you‌ ‌again‌ ‌ Selfish,‌ ‌I‌ ‌can‌ ‌be‌ ‌so‌ ‌selfish‌ ‌ Spend‌ ‌more‌ ‌time‌ ‌when‌ ‌meeting‌ ‌your‌ ‌friends‌ ‌ Please‌ ‌forgive‌ ‌my‌ ‌attitude‌ ‌ I‌ ‌want‌ ‌my‌ ‌cake‌ ‌and‌ ‌eat‌ ‌it‌ ‌too‌ ‌

My Lunacy MC. Whenever I play any IF game, there must be at least one truly bad to the bone character I’m playing with, someone that makes all the terrible choices. Altair is that character; he’s unamused with being brought back and pretty pissed that he has to take care of Shian and make sure the homunculus doesn’t get hurt. Expressive and yet, cautious, merciless and harboring a burning hatred for humanity, nonetheless, he has an almost overwhelming zest for life. Honestly, I was thinking of Sukuna from Jujutsu Kaisen as I created this contradictory bastard.

Shipping him with Death.

@fell-star-if

#out of context #the harbinger of calamity #mc #fell star if #picrew #character picrew #thekrazykeke

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seiya234 · 3 years

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the world

i wrote this in lecture in forty minutes

---

“Gam Gam! Gam Gam!”

Mabel looked up from the onesie she was knitting in her rocking chair. Old as she was, and with as many great-grandchildren, great-great grandchildren, and now even great-great-great grandchildren as she had, it took her a second to place a name and relationship with each redhead running her way.

...only a second though, because she was still Mabel Pines and no one was a stranger to her. No one.

She pointed with one of her hooks at each child. “Rita, Aspen, Tabitha. You three are Acacia’s... great-granddaughters.”

Aspen giggled. “Yes Gam Gam!”

(The girls rolled with it. When the Pines family reunion filled up not only the entire property with RVs, tents, tiny homes, as well as all three hotels in town, you accepted a certain amount of confusion and forgetfulness.)

Mabel patted her lap. “What’s up girls? Pop up.”

Tabitha, four and missing her first baby teeth, crawled up on Mabel’s lap, while Aspen and Rita plopped down at her feet.

“Can you tell us what Pop Pop was like?” Rita asked.

“Mama Tree was telling us stories about him last night-”

“She pop out her eye,” Tabitha solemnly interjected.

“-and we wanted to hear more,” Aspen finished.

“Mama Tree said Pop Pop worshipped the ground you walked on and that’s sooooo dreamy!” Rita, who was nine, was clearly beginning to get into Gisnep princess movies.

Mabel froze, and it felt like the world around her stilled as well.

Her heart ached- oh but only for a second because it still hurt but they were 80 and now she was 149 and she had lived longer without Henry in her life than she had had with him in it.

He worshipped the ground she walked on? not quite. That wasn’t his way.

No, Mabel was not worshipped, but she was the subject of his attention. His devotion.

His life.

It felt sometimes, looking back on her life, like she summoned Henry from the ether, a fully formed homunculus providing everything she needed when she was young and dumb and 21. Calm to her wild, stable to her chaos, even a tangible link to Gravity Falls in the form of his Corduroy family. A man she needed but who also needed her.

That was ridiculous obviously but.

He came to her so stunted, having escaped his abusive childhood but with no friends and almost no family in the process- honestly, it was a miracle, that they found each other, that they were able to come together.

(She was his first kiss. She was his last kiss.)

He was a real person (really. honestly) but sometimes it felt like the only people that were real to him were her, and the people that she brought into his world.

The people they brought into this world.

No he did not worship the ground that she walked on but she was the center of his world and the sole focus of his attention.

Perhaps the saving grace of that marriage, what kept her from feeling suffocated, was that he was in awe of her, appreciated Mabel Pines for Mabel Pines, and he let her fly free. It wasn’t until a few years had passed after his passing that she even really began to articulate any of these thoughts in her head.

It was.... their marriage was wonderful. She loved Henry with her whole heart and he loved her with his. She was happy and so was Henry.

But she regretted.

She regretted that she didn’t think some of this through while Henry was still with her. Regretted that she didn’t push him to grow even more, to become more his own person, probably go to some goddamn therapy-

(a tiny part of her snarled that Henry didn’t always put in the work, that when she brought up therapy he just Looked at her but she buried that snarl because that wasn’t a nice thought)

She wished....

she wished....

She wished they had had more time.

She wished that she knew then what she knew now.

She-

“Gam Gam?”

Mabel started. Rita and Aspen were still looking expectantly at her, while Tabitha had begun to play with the necklace Mabel was wearing.

Well.

Some things were for Mabel, and Mabel alone. The burgeoning family scrapbookers couldn’t have every scrap of Mabel.

Some things would go down into the dark with her, when her bones finally rested next to Henry’s ashes.

“Well, did Mama Tree tell you how I met Pop Pop?”

#transcendence au #seiya writes!

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anthropwashere · 3 years

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All That Describes a Joyful Heart

At last I can finally share this! \o/

This Trisha/Hohenheim fic was written for @fmacookbookzine which you should absolutely go follow because they’ll be announcing leftover sales soon! It’s perhaps the best quality physical zine I’ve ever gotten my hands on AND it comes with oodles of lovely art, oodles of lovely recipes, and three other fics besides mine!

Me being me I have research hole notes to share but I’ll stick them all at the end of the fic. I hope you enjoy!

Night fell hours ago, and with it came a cruel December wind that rattles the windows mercilessly in their painted frames. The old tree out front complains loudly, creaking and groaning its protests as it rakes its naked branches across the roof. But Hohenheim isn't worried. That tree had already been a proud specimen the year he bought the land he eventually built this house on. Its roots grow deep. It'll take a far more furious storm to bring it down than the one that threatens them on this, the longest night of the year.

There's still a part of him that falters over how the years are measured here in the West. Many, many parts of him, to be more accurate; many thousands of his friends who grew accustomed to how a year is measured in far-off Xing, while so many more still cling to the lost ways of Xerxes. Before, long decades ago now, he had no home to call his own. He'd slunk away from the unwanted fame and fortune at the then-Emperor's heel in order to find some semblance of peace amidst the ever-shifting sand dunes, and when that had only brought him renewed grief he'd traveled farther west, and farther still, all the while chasing....

Chasing dreams, he supposes. Dreams of peace and quiet, where half a million souls don't natter at him endlessly. Dreams where he's still human, still susceptible to the ravages of time as any other man. Bittersweet what-ifs and if-onlys.

But those dreams fell to dust, and less than dust, and eventually he came to a soot-blackened city of industry where people limped in on crutches and, after a time, strode out again on gleaming, impossible prosthetics. He met Pinako there in Rush Valley, some thirty-odd years ago now. Her raucous laughter and bawdy humor burrowed past all the walls he'd built around himself, and in the blink of an eye she'd grown dangerously dear to him. It came to pass that whatever she asked of him, he would do without question. It was in this way that she coaxed him time and time again to Resembool. For a funeral, for a wedding, for a birth, and once more to stay.

Well. He'd had no interest in returning to Xing, where they insisted on building ever-grander statues of him whenever he demonstrated an ounce of common sense. So why not buy a bit of land in the hometown of his friend, this mad inventor who dragged him over for a good meal and better drinks whenever she thought he'd been left to mope on his own for too long? Why not build a house there? Why not fill it with books, and shelves to organize them on? And even a monster like him would be wise to take care of himself, so why not fill the cupboards and pantry too while he was at it?

He'd never told Pinako the truth of himself. What he is, where he's really from. Any of it. It's not that he's ever thought such truths to be too heavy a burden for her; rather that he's always considered her a safe harbor away from such burdens. The Homunculus is out there, somewhere, and he's certain it has terrible plans for Amestris, but here in Resembool he can laugh loudly at the dark and feel brave for a few moments of his long, long life.

"Cenz for your thoughts?"

Hohenheim blinks, and finds himself stood stupidly in the middle of his kitchen. His friends titter and tease, directing his attention to the dining table where there sits nothing short of a miracle; a young woman of incomparable kindness, cleverness, and beauty. Stubbornness too, for all that she hides it behind a soft voice and bright eyes. She's refused time and again all his efforts to turn her away, to convince her to love anyone else but him. She's too stubborn by half, twice as determined as that in her efforts to know and understand him for all his faults, and forgive him for them too.

There's no other woman in the world like Trisha Elric. Of that, he's certain.

He meets her wry smile head on, feeling his heart melt anew. "Trisha," he says, enchanted by her very name. "I'm sorry—"

"How may times do I have to tell you to stop that?" She pats the table, drawing him over. "What are they saying?"

He's drawn to her helplessly, like iron filings to a magnet. Many of his friends suggest how he could tell her again all the ways he loves her; chastely, reverently, lustfully, and everything in-between. Many others scoff at him for being so besotted over a country girl without learning, reputation, or skill. He ignores all of them in favor of the few that tell him to mind the stockpot simmering gently on the stove. He prefers practicality to insults. It hasn't been long since he last stirred the pot, however; he can join Trisha at the table, for a little while.

He returns to the chair he'd been sitting in before he'd gone to check the stove and ended up lost in his thoughts. He reaches out to take her hand in his, and is charmed momentarily speechless when she reaches for him just as readily. The tangle of their fingers is a miracle he would never have dreamed of praying for.

"They're happy I'm doing this," he says, then hastily corrects himself. "That we are doing this."

Her smile gains a soft delight to its edges, her green eyes crinkling. "Me too. You were telling me about how tonight was practiced in Xerxes. Shab-e Chelleh?"

He has to pause in the wake of so many of his friends cheering to hear his native tongue spoken aloud by another. "شب چله," he corrects.

She pulls her hand from his long enough to pluck another almond from the bowl of mixed nuts on the table, unwilling to move her other hand from the full swell of her belly. "Well? Go on."

Hohenheim is certain he would have died of shock—if he were still capable of dying—the day she told him they were going to have a baby. A part of him—one all his own, and one that his friends all laugh readily at—can't help but think this is all a wonderful dream he's sure to wake from at any moment.

His friends clamor at him eagerly, shouting to be heard over each other, over suggestions of what he ought to say. Traditions kept, stories told, favorite dishes, and on, and on. He hums and chooses his own words. "We feared the darkness of winter, but we wanted to be stronger than it. So we came together on the last day of every autumn, most often in the homes of our elders. We stayed awake through the night, chasing away the dark and all its evils with fire and music, stories and laughter. We would eat the last of the summer fruits, though we prized watermelon and pomegranate most for the benefits we ascribed them. We knew the winter would be a little easier for our efforts."

"Watermelon? Pomegranate?"

It's still strange for him, to have someone wanting to learn his native tongue. But Trisha is an eager student, demanding translations at every turn. "Ah—هندوانه و انار."

She mouths the words carefully, testing their weight on her tongue with a sweet furrow to her brow. "Hendevâne? Anâr?"

"Yes. Well done."

"That's beautiful," she says. Sarcasm is a slippery thing, even harder to catch hold of in Amestrian. The loveliest thing about her is that he can trust her to mean exactly what she says. "And you?"

"Me?"

"How did you celebrate?"

He blinks. "Oh. Well. The royal family always held a grand feat, with attendees from as far east as—"

"Not the royal family," she interrupts. "Or the courtiers, or the foreign visitors. Not any of them. What did you do, Van?"

Not for the first time, he marvels to hear her call him that. Van, and only Van. Not even his friends address him so. It's still part of the name the Homunculus gave him, yes, but when she says it—with mischief in her eyes and an infectious smile on her lips—he likes it again. She makes his name sound like the gift it had been, so long ago.

"Ah," he says, stalling.

Memories are... difficult, sometimes, for him. The sheer number of years between Xerxes and here are daunting enough, but add to that all the stories his friends have shared with him of their own lives and he grows... confused. Easily so. It takes him a few moments to drum up a dusty etching of his youth to share with her.

"When I was a slave," he begins slowly, swallowing the natural flinch twined to those words. "Those of us who weren't needed would gather in the kitchens for our own celebration. I remember offering to help the cooks prepare ingredients so I could steal samples from the dishes on their way out to the feast."

"Naughty," she teases.

"Only if I'd been caught," he counters. He's had just enough wine—"You're drinking for two, after all," Trisha had joked earlier—to be brave enough to catch her hand as she reaches for another almond. He presses a triumphant kiss to the soft skin of her pale wrist. "And I was very quick."

Her laughter is a bright thing, warming him straight through.

He continues after that, telling her stories of the cusp of winter in long-ago Xerxes. He tells her all the patently untrue deeds he'd boasted of, his plans for mischief, his ploys to avoid work, his hopes a fine dish would turn out too ruined for the King's table so he could feast like a king instead. He tells her of the bards who would deign to sup with slaves, roughly translating their songs with help from his friends. He tells her some of the old superstitions; in believing that the natural coolness of a watermelon would preserve him from heatstroke all through the following summer, in going out to the stables to whisper a secret into a donkey's ear.

There are pauses in the telling, of course, to attend to the stove. His friends insist he do this right, or as right as he can in so small a village as Resembool. Half the needed ingredients are beyond his reach, so he had to get creative. Trisha's begun asking he cook the meals he'd enjoyed before coming to Amestris, and to teach her how to cook them in turn. There's a small but growing collection of recipe cards written in her neat hand, transliterated from Xerxesian, Xingese, and a half-dozen other languages as best as they can guess.

The centerpiece of tonight's meal is a hearty stew made with ground walnuts and pomegranate paste, accompanied by scorched rice flavored with sour cherries. Traditionally it was most commonly made with duck, but he can recall times when chicken or lamb were substituted well. But tonight is about tradition. Tradition, and memory. Only the good memories, if he has any say in it. Trisha only deserves to hear the good, now that she knows the very worst of him.

“How do you pronounce it again?” She asks. “Fesenjān?”

“فسنجون,” he corrects, and more slowly, “Fesenjoon. And the rice, prepared this way, is called ته دیگ.”

“Tahdig,” she echoes. “You’ve made that before, haven’t you? To go with the kabab koobideh you made for the fall sheep festival?”

He hums, thinking back. “Ah, so I did.”

“Good. I’m excited to have it again.” She eats another almond, covering her mouth as she chews. “If there’s any left we’ll have to bring it over to the Rockbells tomorrow. I think Yuriy just about cried, he liked it so much.”

“I’m not sure those were happy tears.”

“Oh, hush. No self-deprecating jokes in the house, remember?”

One of her many rules, enforced through rolled eyes and pointedly aggressive hugs. A lifeline cast across the chasm between then and now. Sometimes he forgets himself, but she is always there to coax him home again.

“Go on, then. I want to hear more.”

He stays by the stove, leaning against the counter with one eye on the simmering pot, as he continues his history. The scant collection of years after the Homunculus gave him the means and the tools to earn his freedom, when he was no longer a slave of the palace but an alchemist of the court. How each dish he had once seen crafted firsthand tasted all the richer for having earned his place at the table. How he'd marveled, quietly astonished, over how the nobles he had once envied could act as much the fool as any slave when they'd had too much to drink. How so much changed, yet how so much more remained the same.

He tells her of his very first شب چله as a free man, rubbing elbows with a merchant from Xing and an alchemist from Samskara. They'd both spoken Xerxesian atrociously, and only considered him their equal because he didn't share his past with them. One had spat at the eunuch boys serving at the King's table, while the other had leered hungrily at the slave girls as they'd danced. He remembers biting his tongue, afraid to cause upset, afraid his former master would change his mind if he caused a scene.

He sums up nearly 20 years in the time it takes to finish cooking, doling out two generous helpings of فسنجون و ته دیگ just as the clock on the mantel strikes eleven. 20 years. The same age Trisha is now. A mere slip of a woman with her whole life ahead of her. 20 years had been almost half his human lifetime, but it feels hardly more than a footnote compared to the centuries he's lived since. They don't have a thing in common, not really, but she's chosen him anyway.

As he rejoins her at the table, bowls in hand, he finds himself struck speechless for a second time tonight by the mere sight of her. He loves her. He loves her so much. He has cared for so many people in his life, but she is the first he has loved completely.

He has stood over so many graves. He doesn't want to outlive her too.

Her eyes light up with the first bite. It's the greatest compliment, the greatest achievement, to do something that makes her happy.

“Oh!” She exclaims, free hand jumping to her belly with a laugh. “I think he likes it too.”

He eyes the swell of her as if he might see the baby kicking from here. A father, he thinks wildly. He's going to be a father. His friends will never stop laughing at his first-time parenting jitters. Traitors, the lot of them.

“You’re sure it’s going to be a boy?” He asks, trying not to show his nervousness.

“I’m not certain,” she admits. “But it feels right. Does that make sense?”

He smiles helplessly. “Not at all. But I believe you.”

She'd said the same thing after he'd told her the truth of him. It feels right to say it to her in turn now.

"Are you sure you don't want to help pick a name?" She asks.

He shakes his head, adamant. “You’re the one doing all the work. It’s only right you get to choose.”

She hums, thoughtful.

Moments pass in that particular quality of silence found only in the wake of a good meal. He tries not to preen. It helps that a number of his friends are critiquing his cooking even as he tries to enjoy it. He should have added onions. He should have tried harder to find saffron. The rice isn't as caramelized as it could be. The duck is too tough. He didn't grind the walnuts fine enough. And on, and on.

Trisha's hand touches his wrist. He blinks at her, enamored and baffled equally. She smiles at him, enamored and exasperated equally.

“I asked what you were thinking,” she says.

It's not even midnight yet. Dawn is a long way off. For all that he's learned so much since he was a nameless slave, for all the centuries he's endured, there's still a part of him that doubts the sun will rise tomorrow. There's still a part of him, however small and smothered by his friends, that is the angry, empty-headed fool who willingly held out his arm when his master demanded he give up his blood. There is still a part of him that wishes desperately he recoiled from the knife, and in doing so saved his people. But there's no sense in wishing for what he cannot change.

“I’m thinking that I’m glad I’m here,” is what he tells her. “And that I love you.”

Outside the wind rages, surely full of devils with cruel fangs and crueler deeds in mind, but here in his home Hohenheim knows he's safe. Better still, the most wonderful woman in the world has chosen to take refuge with him here. More than that. She's chosen to forge a life with him here, to make and raise a family with him here. Out there, somewhere, the Homunculus is surely scheming. Inside him, over half a million souls roil restless, ceaselessly, and perhaps—God help him—even eternally.

But tonight? On this, the longest night of the year? Hohenheim chases jewel-bright pomegranate seeds with his spoon, warmed by just a hair too much wine, hand-in-hand with the love of his long, long life. Tonight, at least, Hohenheim finds himself content.

And that’s the fic! I hope you enjoyed it, and I hope you also enjoy me vomiting some THOUGHTS at you too.

I am in a constant state of being emotionally overwrought about my favorite square anime dad, so I was delighted to have a chance to write something truly syrupy sweet about him and Trisha and have the ready-made excuse to get lost down a research hole. Xerxes is secretly my FAVORITE research hole to get lost down because I actually studied Persian Farsi for a year once upon a forever ago. While I never got any kind of fluent in it, that time of fervent study certainly got me hooked on learning about Iran's rich and fascinating history. This fic is centered around a loose approximation of Yaldā Night, Iran's winter solstice festival, and Hohenheim sharing some of the traditions Xerxes once held with Trisha. I was intentionally vague and/or handwave-y in some parts, but if anything seems too egregiously inaccurate please let me know!

I called it Chelleh within the fic as, per my understanding at least, Yaldā was borrowed from Syriac-speaking Christians, and since Christianity doesn't exist in mangahood it seemed the "more accurate" thing to do.

A common tradition at Yaldā and Nowruz (the Persian New Year) is to read excerpts from the Divān of Hafez, perhaps the most famous of Iran's poets. The title of this fic comes from (per my copy of Elizabeth T. Gray Jr.'s collected translations, Wine & Prayer) ghazal 35. I'd share the full thing with y'all, but she only has the original Persian on her website and my copy of her book is in storage atm. :(

Fesenjoon/fesenjān, the dish they're making, is incredible and I highly recommend it. Tahdig, or scorched rice, is also fantastic.

Thank you again for reading! <3

#fma #fmab #fullmetal alchemist #fullmetal alchemist brotherhood #my writing

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fullmetalscullyy · 3 years

Text

the way it was - chapter 34

summary: what if riza never went to war? riza hawkeye has just married the man she loves. six months into their marriage, an unexpected surprise stops her from following roy to the military. a canon divergence au that explores what might have happened had riza been unable to join the military. there will be plenty of family fluff, angst, and royai.

rated: m | warnings: no archive warning apply

read on ao3

1914

and though my edges may be rough

i never feel i'm quite enough

it may not seem like very much

but i'm yours

Roy’s home office was quiet. Riza poked her head in after putting Mia to bed to ask if he needed anything while he worked. Currently Roy was sitting in his chair, both hands clenched into fists and resting upon his cheeks. A blank stare looked up the paper in front of him while his hair stood up on end in places. One strand pointed outwards, straight towards Riza, like a long finger beckoning her into the room. Given his current state of appearance, she would have entered regardless.

It was the last week of the year. A new one would begin with the next and while it was normally a joyous celebration in their household, Riza felt nothing but foreboding.

The homunculus’ plan would be set in motion in the new year. Roy knew that much but didn’t have a definite date. The thought twisted Riza’s stomach violently, making her fear for her children’s future.

“It’s coming soon, isn’t it?”

Snapping from whatever had clouded his thoughts, Roy’s head jerked upwards. He blinked at her, looking worse for wear. “What?” His throat was cleared as he recovered from being a million miles away. The papers on his desk were slowly sorted and shuffled into piles.

Riza entered the room and walked around his desk. “Whatever you’re planning for, it’s coming soon.”

“It is.” His shoulders slumped even more, rounding forwards.

Riza perched on the edge of his desk and crossed her arms over her chest as she studied him closely. Her eyes narrowed to scrutinise his appearance while he was distracted.

His counterattack was clearly taking its toll. Everything was weighing him down and it was beginning to show. His shoulders drooped. There were dark circles underneath his eyes, leaving them look bruised. Even his hair hung limp over his eyes - the result of him running his hands through it so often.

“Is there anything I can do to help?”

A tired, but appreciative, smile was shot her way. “I wish there was but… It all depends on the answers I get back from others. Right now it’s just a waiting game until I’m essentially summoned by the homunculi,” he scoffed lightly.

Roy tipped backwards in his chair. His face lifted towards the ceiling while his hands rubbed at tired eyes. Riza felt a wave of sympathy wash over her.

“Any news on the others?”

“Increased strength from our enemies in the south,” Roy swallowed. “Fuery was sent right into the middle of it.”

Riza reached forward and squeezed his shoulder in comfort. She hated hearing how hoarse his voice sounded.

“Havoc’s fine but he’s feeling frustrated,” Roy continued, making an already neat pile of paper even neater. He just needed something to distract his hands with. “He’s stuck in a position he shouldn’t even be in. Breda’s gone dark. I don’t know where or how he is.”

“Breda will be okay,” Riza reassured with confidence. “He’s one of the most resourceful men I’ve ever met. There will be a good reason for him going quiet, I’m sure.”

Roy nodded weakly. “Falman reported from the north. The Elric brothers came and went. It… wasn’t without incident,” he added carefully, with a frown.

Riza shook her head fondly but still felt worry coil around her ribs. Judging from stories about their previous adventures, it rarely was a peaceful encounter with them. She just hoped they were all right.

“But they’ve been split up.” Roy bit his lip worriedly. “We lost contact after that.”

“You need sleep,” Riza murmured, running a hand through his hair.

“How can I sleep when everything is like this?”

“How can you expect to fight it all when you’re extremely sleep deprived,” she countered.

Maes’ night habits had eased as time progressed. They were both getting more sleep. He had the odd day where it was a struggle, but nothing compared to his first few weeks after birth. That was a nightmare that passed by in such a blur Riza barely remembered it. However, they still had some catching up to do. Looking after him and Mia was difficult to juggle, especially with Roy working so much. They’d still to find a routine that worked and were slowly easing into something that was relatively manageable.

Roy muttered something quietly underneath his breath.

“It’s because you know I’m right.” Riza nudged his shoulder affectionately with a closed fist.

“Yeah, yeah,” he grumbled.

“Is there anything I can help with tonight, if you’re not going to come to bed? Anything I can get you?”

“I don’t know,” was his honest reply. If anything, it made him sound even more tired. “I just…” His hands found his hair, gripping onto the strands tightly in frustration. “I need action,” he mumbled.

“There’s nothing you can do this late at night, Roy.”

“There is. There’s plenty I can be doing, but I’m stuck here.”

Her hands folded together to rest atop her thighs. “Bradley has a tight leash on you still?”

Roy nodded. “I’m not to leave the city. Otherwise…” His expression turned stricken, quickly glancing up at her.

“I understand.”

“I hate it.”

“I do too. Especially when it’s upsetting you… But, you can’t be the hero all the time, Roy. Give yourself a little break, because you really need it. The Elric brothers will be okay. They have allies throughout the country. They’re not short on people who will help them if they need it.”

“Yes, but –” He sighed heavily.

“But it’s not you?” Riza guessed, and she was right.

Roy nodded minutely.

“You sound like their father.”

Roy scoffed once, twice, then snapped his mouth shut without a reply.

Riza grinned at him.

“I keep replaying the same thing over and over in my head, the more I look at this…”

Glancing over her shoulder at his desk, Riza saw the mess of notes still spread over the surface. A drawing of the ouroboros tattoo caught her eye, followed by a map of the country, covered in scribbles and notes. A map of Central was there too, the same one she’d seen at the hospital when Roy and Havoc were there. It had all the labs circled on it, the ink slightly smudged and the paper crumpled at the edges.

“What’s on your mind?”

His spine straightened as he took a deep breath. It was held in his lungs for a beat, before rushing outwards with his speech. “Hughes.”

Momentarily thrown, her eyes wandered off to the side, no longer focussing on his work.

“When it comes down to it, I’m going to have to ask them,” he admitted.

“Ask what?” Her head slowly turned to face him. Riza’s stomach dropped as she watched his jaw set in determination.

“Ask if they killed Hughes.”

“You’re going to do it outright?” Riza swallowed past the lump in her throat. “That’s –”

“It’s the only way I’ll get a straight answer,” he replied firmly.

“Roy…”

“I have to ask. I have to know. I can’t stand back and do nothing about it.”

Riza balked at his forceful tone and the action caught his eye.

“What?”

“I just - Roy we talked about this,” she replied. She was almost pleading with him.

“I know, but I still have to ask them, Riza. When it all boils down to it I have to find out. The military has already buried the truth but I won’t let that happen to Hughes. He will have justice.”

She felt like rubbing her temples but stopped herself. Riza’s head tipped down to look at her joined hands. She squeezed them tightly as she tried to keep a hold on all the emotions roiling inside of her.

They killed for Hughes for pushing too hard. They’d do the same to Roy eventually, even if he was important to them. Or do it to her. He had to play by their rules and keep the peace. If he didn’t, then…

“I can’t stop you from asking.” She tried to make her voice strong and even but it shook slightly. “I don’t want you to but I can’t stop you.”

Riza stood from leaning against his desk and walked towards the door. She needed some air. Desperately. The anxiety and fear that was creeping over her was getting worse. It was like her chest was being squeezed inside a vice.

“They can’t get away with what they did –”

Roy was indignant as he called after her but they’d already gone through all of this. Riza felt something begin to break inside of her chest as she clenched her fists by her side. Her nails dug into her palms painfully, but she barely noticed as she retreated from him.

“We’re not arguing about this again,” she nearly growled. The control was slipping the more the vice squeezed on her chest. It almost felt like she couldn’t breathe.

“Arguing,” Roy echoed. “Who said there was anything to argue about?”

“We’ve been through this Roy and I’m not doing it again,” Riza snapped, spinning around to face him. One finger lifted to point at Roy’s chest. “I’m not going through all of that after it was put to bed already. You’re not getting revenge,” she stated simply.

Roy’s eyes narrowed slightly at her, tightening around the edges. Before, it may have made Riza pause, but now she felt no hesitation. Because this wasn’t just anger at the injustice Maes and his family suffered. It was hatred too. Riza could see it clearly in his eyes. It was directed towards those who had murdered his friend. She wouldn’t let him give in to it.

“Riza –” He was almost seething but Riza would not let that talk or that behaviour fly now.

“Stop it,” she growled.

Riza stormed out of his office. She was getting worked up and needed to remove herself from the situation.

He couldn’t give in to that hatred.

In her mind’s eye Riza pictured their children. Their perfect, innocent faces smiling happily. Their expressions twisted in horror when they were told about what their father had done in memory of their beloved Uncle Maes. If she brought them up now, would they be enough for Roy to see sense?

“You can’t tell me not to do anything. I have to know.”

“That’s fine,” she relented. “But exacting justice, Roy? By your own hand? We’ve been through this –”

“And are you going to stop me? Would you stop me tonight if I left to do it?”

It was a challenge but it still pissed her off. She wouldn’t back down from it either. Instead she glared at him after he asked the question.

“You can fucking bet I would stop you,” she hissed. “You are not to get revenge for Hughes’ murder,” she forced out. “You can ask them, sure, but I will not let you take the matter into your own hands and perform your own punishment. That’s not who you are and you’re better than that.” Riza shook her head. “The man that would do that is not my husband.”

“Mummy?”

Mia’s voice sounded from behind them. She was impossibly quiet and sounded extremely upset.

Riza whirled around and saw Mia standing on the second step. Her hand gripped the banister in a white knuckled grip. Her eyes were wide with tears pooling in them as they switched between Riza and Roy.

“Daddy?”

Riza shot him a warning glance, telling him to shut up, but also telling him that their conversation wasn’t over. She noted Roy’s stricken face. However there was still an ember of his plight present in his eyes. Riza would be more than happy to continue this later but only once Mia was asleep and they were both calmer.

“Mia? What are you doing up?” Riza’s voice was soft as she approached their daughter. Crouching before her, Riza became eye-level with Mia and readjusted her pyjama top. One shoulder had slipped over to one side haphazardly.

“I…” She bit her lip, casting her gaze to the side worriedly. “I heard you both shouting.”

Riza’s gut twisted painfully. Her breath caught in her throat as she sucked it in.

“I didn’t like it.”

Guilt flooded Riza. Regardless of the topic of conversation, they should have been quieter. “Sorry, Mia Bear. Dad and I were just having a discussion.” Riza ran her hand over Mia’s hair and cupped her cheek to try and soothe her.

“You were very loud.”

Riza hugged her daughter, placing a hand on the back of her head so it rested against Riza’s shoulder. “Sorry. We didn’t mean to be.”

“Will Daddy really leave tonight?” Her head cocked to the side before looking over Riza’s shoulder at Roy. “It’s really late. And what does revenge mean?”

Mia didn’t know the meaning of the word. There was no way she should either. She was too young. It would only upset her if it was explained.

Riza prided herself on always telling her daughter the truth and explaining things as best as she was able, but this was not one of those times. It would only upset her. Plus, Riza would never let Roy stoop so low to that anyway.

“No,” Riza reassured, pulling away and cupping her daughter’s face gently in both hands. “He’s not going anywhere tonight.”

“What does that word mean?”

She was far too inquisitive for her own good. Once again, Riza brushed it aside. It pained her to do so because her father did that with her mother’s condition and ultimately, her death. She’d sworn she’d never do it to a child of her own if that ever came to pass, but she had no time at the moment to describe the intricacies of the word and what that meant her father might possibly do if pushed hard enough.

She and Roy needed to talk. Badly.

“I’ll tell you tomorrow, okay?” Riza smoothed her daughter’s unruly hair down. Despite her fringe being styled like Riza’s and her hair falling below her shoulders, it reminded Riza so much of Roy’s hair. It still had a mind of its own and didn’t obey any laws of physics or hairspray.

Mia yawned. “Okay,” she mumbled, appeased for the moment.

Riza hoped that by the morning, she’d forgotten about her mother’s promise.

“Up to bed with you now, okay?” Riza smiled at Mia. “I’ll come and tuck you in.”

Mia looked over at Roy. Without warning, she hopped down the last two steps and rushed over to her father. He’d been staring straight ahead, stricken, but Roy jumped in fright when Mia’s arms slung around his torso. He looked down at her face. One cheek was pressed into his stomach as she squeezed her eyes closed tightly in her hug. Riza watched with a pained chest as Mia’s hands fisted in his t-shirt.

“I love you, Daddy,” Mia whispered into his stomach, giving him an even tighter squeeze.

“Time for bed, Mia,” Riza called gently, her voice hoarse.

Mia nodded and smiled up at her father. A wobbly smile overtook his face and he nodded.

“Love you too, Mia,” Roy whispered. It was as quiet as a breath. “So much.”

“Come on, Mia.” Riza extended her hand for her daughter to take.

“Will Dad be okay?” Mia bit her lip worriedly, looking over her shoulder at him.

“He’ll be fine.” Riza shot him a look, noticing him swallow thickly as he stared after them both. She couldn’t be sure from the distance between them, but it looked like that ember in his eyes had fizzled out. “I’ll talk to him when I come back down.”

“Okay,” Mia whispered.

Their daughter walked ahead, up the stairs and out of sight.

“Think about one thing,” Riza stated quietly. “If you do go ahead with your own brand of justice, is that the father you want to be?” Her voice was flat as she asked her question. “Is that the home you want to build with actions like that?”

Roy had been staring after Mia, and finally, his eyes settled on her. A breath was sucked into his chest, the movement shaky as his chest heaved loudly.

They would talk but Mia was more important at the moment.

Turning away from him, not bothering to wait on an answer, Riza walked up the stairs to their daughter’s room. She ignored how heavy her footsteps were. It matched the heavy weight in her heart. As she ascended, she just prayed she wouldn’t hear their front door close. Her breath had been held as she climbed slowly. The exhale was quiet, but she heard no sound from the floor below. No door slammed and no floorboards creaked with movement.

Mia first.

“Sleep well, Mia.” Riza tucked her daughter into bed tightly and bent forward, pressing a kiss to her nose. Mia giggled and sighed happily.

“Night, Mum,” she mumbled tiredly.

The house was silent when Riza descended back down the stairs. She had hoped and prayed Roy wouldn’t leave tonight, but as she searched their house and he was nowhere to be found. Tears flooded her vision. Blinking them away, Riza’s footsteps were heavy once more as she made her way to bed.

She hadn’t been able to get through to him. Again.

However, Riza’s thought was banished from her head when she passed by Maes’ room. The door was cracked open which made her panic slightly. She’d left it wide open so she’d be able to hear him through the night if he woke.

Roy was bouncing Maes in the centre of the room. He was fussing quietly, one fist flailing above his head as Roy tried to settle him. His back was to the door as he stared down at their son. Riza heard a sniff and her heart broke.

“I’m sorry, Maes,” Roy whispered against their son’s head. He moved to kiss his forehead. “I’ve hurt her again. I let my emotions run away with me and…” Roy sighed and Riza heard his breathing hitch. “And I would’ve hurt you and your sister too if I’d gone through with everything. I would have been a big disappointment. You’d have thought me a monster,” he gasped quietly. “I’m so sorry.”

Fresh tears appeared in Riza’s eyes. She backed away from the door to give Roy some time alone to process and deal with everything. Despite feeling exhausted after their discussion, a tiny sliver of hope coiled its way around Riza’s ribs. They still needed to talk but witnessing that scene was a promising start.

Once in bed, Riza pulled the sheet up and underneath her chin. She curled into a ball, back to the door, as she waited for Roy to come to bed. Fatigue was threatening to pull her under. Riza fought it as best she could but eventually it tugged hard enough.

She was dozing when Roy slipped into the bed. Disorientated, her body jerked as she was pulled roughly from the half-asleep state she’d been fallen into. Settling down, Riza’s eyes blinked open and she grew still, listening to his movements. From what she could tell, he was on his back.

Roy sighed, a long drawn out sound, then scoffed in disgust. Riza felt the bed dip as he rolled towards her. She held her breath. Her shoulder tingled in anticipation when she saw the shadow of his hand hovering over it, but ultimately he pulled away before he could touch her.

“Are you awake?” His whisper broke through the loud silence of the room.

Riza nodded.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered, sounding defeated and miserable.

“I thought you might really leave,” Riza admitted.

“I did it once.” She heard him swallow, then pull away from her completely. Her back felt cold now that his presence was no longer there. “I won’t make that same mistake twice.”

She rolled over to face him. “You’re willing to talk about this?” Riza searched his gaze, almost begging him to reconsider dealing with the whole thing by himself.

Roy nodded, staring up at the ceiling. Both hands scrubbed at his face before falling back to his sides, his limbs heavy. “Of course. But… I’ve made my decision.”

Riza stiffened and Roy noticed. He turned his head to finally face her.

“I’m staying,” he reassured. “And… And seeing your face, that look on it, and hearing Mia’s scared voice…” Roy swallowed, glancing away, unable to look at her. “I took one look at little Maes and… Everything just fell away.”

“Because big Maes wouldn’t want you to do it either,” Riza whispered.

“Big Maes?” Roy barked a laugh, filling the quiet room with his sudden amusement.

Riza smiled wryly. “I thought that might make you laugh.”

“It did. Big Maes and Little Maes…” Roy shook his head fondly. His amusement flickered out, replaced by quiet contemplation. “The perfect combo,” he smiled sadly. “I thought it might be too strange naming him after Hughes.” Roy swallowed. “Just one look at him and it’s like he’s really here,” he admitted.

Riza reached over to make first contact, brushing his fringe away from his forehead. Her thumb swiped over the skin underneath once to comfort him.

“I don’t think of him as Hughes, obviously,” Roy reassured, “but… It’s like a connection to him.” He turned his head to look at her. “Does that make sense?”

She nodded. “It does. I’m glad we got through to you. Maes always could talk you down so easily.”

“You do it so much better, though,” Roy sighed, rolling and wrapping his arms around her shoulders. He shifted over, moving so she was flush against his bare chest.

“Really?”

“You think you don’t?” His hold on her tightened.

“There was a time when I did –”

“When?” He pulled away to look down at her with such concern on his face.

Riza shook her head. “It doesn’t matter –”

“It does. When?”

“When you first came back from Ishval. You were struggling a lot and I felt I couldn’t get through to you.” Her admission was quiet as she whispered it against his skin. “And then after Maes died. I… Well, I thought I was going to lose you to your grief and anger and didn’t know what to do.”

Fingers were placed gently against her chin. Roy tilted her head up slowly, tenderly, so she was finally looking right at him, however there was a fierce fire in his eyes.

“You were always the best at it,” he promised. “One thought of you and it kept me grounded. I think of our family and realise that you’re my top priority, despite my duty. You always were.”

“It’s been hard to juggle for you.”

“It has.”

His eyes stared into hers and Riza found herself pinned by his gaze but didn’t mind it one bit. She never had. Those dark depths were a comfort.

“That’s what happened tonight. It’s still raw and I let my emotions and frustration and fatigue get the better of me.”

“That’s why you need more sleep,” she added, teasing him lightly to try and lighten the mood.

Roy chuckled. “You’re very right about that one.” He pressed a kiss to her forehead. “You always are.”

He turned quiet and Riza was content just to hold him. She was giving him all the time he needed to voice what he needed to say.

“If I lost myself to all of this…” His eyes closed and shame overtook his features. “That’s not the husband or father I want to be. I don’t want to be a monster again.” His voice grew hoarse, causing Roy to clear his throat. “I don’t want my kids to think of or remember me like that.”

“Only you can make that choice.”

“I know,” Roy nodded, “and I choose you. I choose all three of you. There’s no contest and never has been. It’s the easiest decision to make, like breathing.”

Riza angled her head and pressed her lips against his.

“I’m sorry for hurting you again,” he whispered huskily against her lips. His breath mingled with hers, warming the skin of her face in the same way his love and her relief was washing through her body.

“Thank you for coming back to me.” Silently, she wrapped her arms around his torso and cuddled into him.

“I always will, Riza.” His breath tousled her hair gently, tickling her. “You always bring me back.”

“I understand this is important to you,” she added, “it’s important to me too. I want to find out what really happened to Maes too and see the culprit be brought to justice but there’s other ways to do it.”

“I know,” he replied solemnly.

“I know how angry and frustrated you are about everything… Promise me one thing?”

“What?” He lifted his eyebrows in anticipation.

“Just… Think of them when it all boils down to it. Think about what you told me about not wanting to become a monster for our kids.” Riza’s voice almost shook with emotion as she spoke. “You tasked me with keeping you on the right path, and I’m trying, but when you fight back like that it makes it impossible.”

“My anger blinded me. I’m so sorry. It’s not an excuse, I know, but it did.” Shame coloured his tone.

“You saw sense, though,” Riza soothed him as she caressed his cheek gently. “And that’s what matters. When the time comes, think of Mia and Maes and your role in their life. Think of what you want them to see you as. Please.”

“And you too,” Roy insisted, his voice turning husky. His grip on her adjusted, holding her tighter against his body.

His inclusion of her made a tiny smile appear on her lips. She pressed a kiss to the column of his neck, seeing his Adam’s apple bob.

“And me too. Don’t let that hatred fool you, push you into something you don’t want to be. Not only for our sake, but for your own, and for Hughes’ memory. He wouldn’t want to see you turn into someone like that either on his behalf.”

“Always, Riza,” he breathed, sealing his promise. “Always, for you three.”

#royai #royai fic #royai fanfic #royai au #the way it was #emma writes #hhhhHHHHHH #i am once again tentatively posting #bc the first draft had a HMMM confrontation that i didn't like but i think its all g now and i prefer it a whole lot more #ive also stared at the same part for half an hour and got nowhere so BYEEE time to post #canon parallels? seeing as their roles have changed?? 👀#interesting...

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deathleadsarc · 3 years

Text

first two yakuza related posts

initial info random info

Differences in her character and more additional info to her whereabouts and timeframe.

The biggest difference is that she is not an alchemist, obviously, so she has an easier time with using physical weapons like knives or guns. She she doesn’t have any desires to own or use a gun, however. Does she own a knife? She does! Several kinds! Aside from the medical equipment, she carries a family heirloom from WWI - a trench knife passed down from her mothers side, given to her by her brother.

Qistina and is more accepting and interested in her heritage, but still does not hold any religious values. She hardly holds onto any good values at all, much like her main incarnation.

Still very much a murderous person. There is no formal diagnosis on her, but she is a high functioning psychopath and should still not be trusted. That’s not to say that she can’t feel feelings, however. At the very least, she understands that what she does is morally wrong. She can read emotions well and acts accordingly to their interactions and what she needs from them. there are also certain special people who can excite and please her enough that she drops her façade. Becoming much more honest with them.

There is enjoyment in what she does. She loves exploring the human body just as a kid will enjoy playing with a coloring book - she finds creativity in it, happiness, fuels her with a sense of control in her chaotic and horrible life being lead. For as much as she is content with her life, there is a small desire that wells up from time to time to have a family of her home ( not yakuza related, per say, but a person who loves her. maybe a few children ) because this is something she feels is so far away from her reach, she continues with her life until Homunculus’s inevitable return.

Timeline

Date of Birth : Oct 31st 1973

During her time in the mafia in Germany, she would harvest organs and even serve as a threat to torture in particularly stubborn troublemakers who went against their Father. She joined them when she was 22, only a few years after entering medical school, and learning more first hand than in the classroom. Having spotted one member of Homunculus torturing and dismembering a man, she was given the choice to join in or join the floor. Guess what she chose!

Her own story beginning in Japan starts in 1998 when she is 25 years old, when a fellow Alchemist by the name of Roy Mustang helped smuggle her out of Germany through his connections with a Yakuza family in Japan by the name of Arakawa ( by my own luck, there is already an Arakawa family in the Yakuza series - but my reasoning is mostly a reference to fma’s author ) . She is brought in front of few of the Family Heads and introduces herself in Japanese, dressed fully in a black and red furisode ( yamamba and spider lily patterns ) hoping to give a good impression. Lucky for her, it works.

Serving as a backdoor / black market doctor to any member who cannot risk a hospital visit or otherwise. Providing a unique skillset and disposition toward her situation. Her abilities are offered in exchange for their protection, with a small clinic was provided to her by the Tojo family in Kamurocho, first watched over by a senior Doctor, then turned over during the kiwami timeskip before 2005.

The yakuza who come through don’t bother her too much outside of medical reasons, though they do refer to her by yokai related names due to her very unique appearance: nure-onna, yuki-onna, and yama-uba. Usually these names are used as a code when in public, as her name is too foreign to forget when you hear it. “nure” “yuki” or “yama” are acceptable names to call her.

TAG: 🜺 | asleep within the petals of poppies ; nourished with blood ( yakuza verse ) ( the tag will contain the triggers of gang related activity, drugs, violence. I won’t tag everything involved with every thread or post unless you specifically ask me to. )

#long post #🜃 | Asleep within the petals of Poppies ; nourished with blood | YAKUZA #that date might change but here we are

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itsbenedict · 3 years

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Two-Faced Jewel: Session 3

A half-elf conwoman (and the moth tasked with keeping her out of trouble) travel the Jewel in search of, uh, whatever a fashionable accessory is pointing them at. [Campaign log]

Saelhen and Looseleaf, having acquired a band of allies to keep them safe on their entirely bogus quest to fulfill "Lady Noeru's" succession rite on behalf of the college, set out on Suika Highway towards the jungles of Thunderbrush. On the road, they face two extremely deadly combat encounters.

After checking in on the writhing hellpit they opened in Yoshimimoto Plaza (it's under control, they threw some nets over it), the party heads out onto the highway. Customs by the overland roads couldn't give less of a damn what they're bringing out of the city, so there's no scrutiny and they're well on their way.

A good thirty miles or so into the grassland, and the party has to make a perception check. Looseleaf is the one to nail it- her antennae pick up on a suspicious rustling in the tall grass by the side of the road. And even those with slightly worse rolls notice...

There's a green dragon circling lazily in the sky above them. This is bad, because dragons are... well, chromatic dragons like this green one are malevolent and extremely deadly giant monsters, is the main reason, but the other reason is that dragons are... cursed, is what the common understanding is.

To speak with a dragon is to be condemned to some sort of great misfortune, brought about by your own hand. You know the Simurgh from Worm? Listen to its song for too long, and you become sort of a sleeper agent of self-destructive carnage? It's like a diet version of that. Whatever path your conversation with the dragon puts you on, it's invariably bad for you, somehow. The metallic dragons, who're ostensibly "good", will still ruin your life in some way just by talking to you, even if your immolation does some good for the world on the way out. Nobody wants to talk to a dragon.

Luckily, they don't have to- this one seems content to circle way up in the sky, not saying a word to them. Instead, they just get attacked by a direwolf and several horrible monsters.

The whole party botches their Arcana rolls to determine what the heck these things are.

Benedict I. (GM): None of you have any idea what these things are. They're small, roughly humanoid, and... they look sort of like they're made of mud and tangled grass. They're wielding knives, some multiple knives to a hand, and they look vaguely ethereal, not quite real- possibly animated by something. The dire wolf is, of course, charging you- and the other monsters are following suit. They screech and hiss with obvious hostile intent. Roll initiative!

The party dismounts from their giraffes, since they're not trained for combat and the party isn't trained in mounted combat.

Saelhen du Fishercrown: "Ruffians," she mutters, with the approximate tone a non-elf might use to say "fuckers."

The party's two new melee combatants take up position in the front, while Vayen... stands behind the giraffes, doing nothing. The direwolf lunges, closes in, and... misses entirely, as Oyobi dodges gracefully out of the way. Razzafrazzin' elves...

Then it's Orluthe's turn, and he...

Benedict I. (GM): Orluthe looks around nervously- not at the wolves, but at the party. "Don't... tell anyone about this," he says, and pulls something from his pack. It's a warball helmet. Custom-forged. Looseleaf: Uh. Okay? Is what Looseleaf thinks, in response to this. Benedict I. (GM): I... don't think either of you two would have the context to know what this means, but Oyobi's jaw is on the floor. Looseleaf:Didn't realize that playing warball was apparently something to be ashamed of! Saelhen du Fishercrown: "Your weird secret is safe with me," whispers Saelhen, in the bushes. Benedict I. (GM): Orluthe dons the helmet, and as he does so, he seems to grow larger. There's a shift in his stance, and you hear a growl from beneath the helmet. He howls- and Zero, you're in control of his combat actions here. So what's he do?

Hm.

Orluthe(?) goes ahead and attacks with his halberd, and- being a paladin- opts to SMITE. He impales the thing and burns its wound with divine magic for more than half its health- and then Oyobi's turn comes up and she slices the thing open with her longsword. The party's choice of allies specialized in melee fight seems to be paying off!

Of course, now the other monsters get to take their turn, being unfortunately still alive. One charges at Orluthe and whiffs, but the other... uses some sort of crude slingshot, and hurls some sort of crackling ball of energy at Looseleaf.

Benedict I. (GM): Being hit by this thing suddenly makes you seize up. You remember... Looseleaf, tell me about a time you wanted some physical object very very badly, but didn't get it. Something it hurt you to not have. Looseleaf: Once, when Looseleaf was young, there was a traveling caravan that brought into town a collection of what looked like books for sale. Looseleaf being herself, she of course wanted to buy some of them- but nobody in town would let her go near the vendor! Something about 'inappropriate for young childrens' eyes' and 'mature content warnings'. To this day she's still more than a bit resentful of that, and also she has no idea that the traveling caravan vendor was actually selling basically porn mags. Her memories are interspliced with imaginary counterfactual ideas of what might have been in those books, which are almost certainly not at all what the books actually contained. Benedict I. (GM):You remember that incident, vividly. All that emotional pain, compressed into a single instant of agonizing desire. It leaves you momentarily short of breath, and you take three psychic damage.

Looseleaf attempts to retaliate, but scores, um... a critical failure.

Luckily, that's the last thing these monsters have go right for them- the next few turns are a barrage of successful attacks and AoOs from the party's heavy hitters. Orluthe cuts one in half, provoking a disturbingly human-sounding ghostly wail as it dies. Saelhen throws a dagger from her hiding place in the grass, and...

Benedict I. (GM): Nice! The second dagger takes off this thing's head. It hits the ground with a squelch, and there's another human cry of agony. farnham: "HAH," goes what must be a very large and triumphant and majestic bird in the brush.

As soon as the combat is over, Orluthe returns to normal, and the dragon circling overhead... just flies away, apparently losing interest. Wonder what that's about.

Looseleaf attempts to Soul Read the corpses to learn more about why they were attacked, but unfortunately... the wolf corpse doesn't remember anything unusual that stood out to the spirits of its decaying body parts, and the spirits of the mud and grass left behind by the other monsters only recall being uprooted from the ground and forced to attack people- the spirits animating them seem to be gone.

They are able to figure out what those things were, though- they were Greed Echoes- some sort of evil spirits that echo strong emotions they encountered, and form homunculus bodies with which to act on those emotions. Greed Echoes like these were probably leftover from highwaymen and bandits who've attacked travelers on this road before- playing out their ugliest intentions.

It's weird, though- these are the grasslands, not the mountains. Monsters like these tend to come up out from below mountains, so it's not too common to see so many of them this far from where they spawn.

Moving on, the party reaches a point where the wild grasses suddenly stop, replaced by a uniform tall green grass- corn, apparently. Cornfields mean farmers, and farmers mean civilization.

Saelhen du Fishercrown: "How delightfully rustic." Benedict I. (GM): It's not much longer before you see buildings down the road- it looks like the center of a farming village. There's a sign, as you enter the town- "WELCOME TO CORN". Saelhen du Fishercrown: "...how rustic."

They roll into town and notice not much of interest- it's a pretty standard farming village, with a Temple of Diamode (the hypertraditionalist family-values goddess Orluthe claims to be a cleric of), an inn (apparently very busy, with a lot of people going between it and the temple), and a branch of the Deathseekers' Guild (the adventurers' guild, which is very up-front about how dangerous it is to fight monsters as a career).

Orluthe looks a little nervous around the temple, so they head first to the inn. They enter, and they're immediately met with a riot of colors. The inn is packed with halflings in fancy outfits. Not like, rich people fancy, but down-home farmer fancy. Lots of flower patterns and the like. There's a band playing music in the back, and a bunch of halflings dancing while others chug whiskey and hoot and holler. The human innkeeper is struggling to keep up with all the mugs that need washing.

Discounts are in the cards, though- the bearded guy with the whiskey steins is happy to see out-of-towners joining the celebrations- a very proud father, he is, as his son Merrick was just married. This is the wedding reception, and in his mind, the more the merrier.

He puts forth something of a challenge: his son claims that city folk can't dance, see, and he, a dissenting opinion, wants to demonstrate otherwise. So, if the party can defeat his son and daughter-in-law in a dance-off... he'll pay for the night's stay!

How does a dance-fight work? Exactly the same as a normal combat, except the hit points are made up and the actual stats don't matter. You substitute your performance modifier on your rolls! Maybe you have a battleaxe, so you roll to attack with your battleaxe, and what that really means is you're doing a wild swinging dance move that really wows the crowd.

Enemies, meanwhile, know different "dance styles", inspired by CR-appropriate monsters I picked out of the monster manual to non-literally fight in a nonlethal dance battle. The happy couple are a pair of Duergar warriors, squaring off against the party's two squishies.

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(3:06)

The combat is- well, there's not much to it, just a bunch of back-and-forth attack rolls, ultimately decided by clever use of flanking and attacks of opportunity. Looseleaf tries her best, but her Performance modifier isn't nearly as high as Saelhen's, as she's not the daughter of Kanzentokai's Dance Emperor. She does do a cool thing where she leaps into the air and does a wing-assisted pirouette thing, but all that accomplishes is taking her out of the fight for a bit- and concentrating fire on Saelhen.

Their rolls are pretty bad for a while, but things turn around once they outmaneuver their foes and pull off some attacks of opportunity.

Benedict I. (GM): So, you two- describe your combo dance move that totally floors these two. With musical accompaniment, s'il vous plait Looseleaf: okay you know how in ballet there's a move that's, like, one dancer picks up the other dancer and hoists them in the air turns out that move is a lot more effective if the lifting dancer literally has wings. Saelhen du Fishercrown: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=QRoWiTcO7dk Saelhen gladly lifts Looseleaf, and for good measure gives her a little acrobatic toss and flips her in midair, catching her on the drop. Looseleaf: just to add insult to injury, looseleaf uses a whole conjunction of her fancy-schmancy special effects spells- minor illusion to create the effect of golden butterflies flapping around themselves, druidcraft alongside her wingbeat to scatter a bunch of her seeds and have them bloom into flower instantly Saelhen du Fishercrown: She's breathing heavily but... actually enjoying herself, despite the obvious competitive streak motivating all this. Looseleaf: it's a lot of visual spectacle on top of the move itself, and that's what puts the icing on the cake. Benedict I. (GM): There's raucous applause from the audience, and Aridrey is beginning to flag. She laughs, and- it's all she can do to keep up with Merrick, who's himself starting to have trouble keeping up.

(Meaning, while she's still his dance partner, she's "out", and no longer a battlefield presence.) Merrick, wifeless, tries to counterattack, and...

...makes the mistake of trying to copy their moves.

Benedict I. (GM): He hoists Aridrey above his head, and tries to spin her around the same way, and... they've been dancing all day, they're tired, and this is their first real attempt to improvise. "Wh- Merrick, wait-" Saelhen du Fishercrown: MERRICK I'M SO SORRY Benedict I. (GM): And she collapses on top of him, to laughter from everyone, particularly his dad. Saelhen du Fishercrown: (saelhen stifles giggles extremely well because a noble lady would never)

The battle seems more or less over, but Merrick is determined to see this through- breaking into a furious solo jig that puts the floor in grave danger of scuffing. None of his efforts land attacks, though- ultimately, Saelhen finishes the fight by delivering the ultimate humiliation- successfully copying his moves, a storm of fancy footwork. When the dust clears, the jig... is up.

Benedict I. (GM): His father laughs. "What'd I tell you, son? Don't get a big head, aye?" He slaps five gold pieces down on the counter. "Get 'em some rooms, Jonnem!" Merrick... he's been thoroughly humiliated, and doesn't take Saelhen's hand at first. Then Aridrey comes over and pulls him to his feet. "C'mon, honey. Grace, right?" Merrick vibrates for a moment, then lets out a sigh. He goes to shake your hand. "...Ffffffffine dancing," he says. Looseleaf: "That was a lot of fun!" Looseleaf is vibrating like crazy. Just hopping all over the place, like she hasn't quite gotten the dance bug out of her system yet.

Saelhen du Fishercrown: ("For what it's worth, man," she whispers, letting her gracious victor's smile collapse into a slightly shit-eating kind of grin. "That could've gone either way.") Benedict I. (GM): Meanwhile, Oyobi and Orluthe... I was going to say the outcome of their match would match yours, and I guess I'll stick to that, but Orluthe does not know how to dance, and Oyobi is drunk as hell. Orluthe may not know how to dance, but he knows how to hold on for dear life, and keep Oyobi vaguely upright as she flails around wildly. It's probably for the best that Saelhen's attention was elsewhere, because she would not have been able to keep a straight face at Oyobi's scandalous dance moves. Whatever's going on over there, the crowd is loving it- so all together, that's another 400 XP divided four ways.

With that victory, the party gets to stay the night for free. The next morning, they report the Greed Echo encounter and the dragon to the local Deathseekers' Guild (getting 10gp for their trouble, and turning a profit on this pit stop.) And with that... it's back on the road to Thunderbrush, next time!

#twofaced jewel #tfj log #d&d 5e

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fizzingwizard · 4 years

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Yay it’s my favorite time of the week! Digimon Adventure:! Can’t believe we’re already at episode 16! This week somewhat recapped the mission we’ve been on for... 14 episdoes now x’D and I realized I forgot all kinds of shit. It’s so funny, when I was ten and watching Digimon Adventure I could remember everything, but now that I’m sadly an adult I can’t keep track of these high paced children’s shows!

(Supposedly they spoon feed kids stories so they can understand it more easily... but I gotta say I think I’m the one that needs the help, bahahaha)

ALSO... apparently there was an earthquake this morning! It was too north of me so I didn’t feel it (I was... also sleeping >-> so...) But it was right when the show started airing so the info came scrolling across the screen. At first it said

“Just in case, be careful of tsunami”

and like just three min or so later

“There is no need to worry about a tsunami due to this earthquake”

Phew! Also, Digimon causes earthquakes! Hide yo wife hide yo kids! Is that meme still current?? Does it matter???? I’m a millennial, boomers hate me, gen Z hates me, at least let me have my memes! XD

OK enough goofing off, on to what really matters, freaking Digimon man! This episode gave me tons of Taichi spam. Mmm my favorite kind of spam! But it also gave me avocado cheeseburger spam too!

So although I completely forgot about it, I was pretty excited for this ep when they allegedly return to the real world! Last week’s preview made it pretty obvious it was going to be either a fake reality or the evil Digimon had taken over the real world much more deeply than we realized. Fake reality made the most sense. But they tried to trip us up anyway! The opening shots are clear references to the famous episode 21 of 99 Adventure, although given that was the best animated episode of the entire show, this one just doesn’t do it justice.

He’s not sweating, the sun isn’t as intense... it just makes Fizz nostalgic

Finding them suddenly home, the kids are all pretty bewildered at first. Predictably, Mimi is the first to recover. What motivates her?

AVOCADO CHEESEBURGER! AVOCADO CHEESEBURGER!

From Burger Jack’s bahahahaha

Mimi starts excitedly listing all the things she wants to do now that they’re home. Aside from eat delicious burgers, she wants to take a shower, change clothes...

I’m like “Oh, so these kids HAVE been feeling the effects of how much traveling they’ve been doing!”

Seriously though why didn’t anyone comment on it before now?? In 99 Adventure most of the kids couldn’t shut up about the lack of basic necessities and creature comforts. It was really easy to feel how much they were struggling! Everyone in this series is so darn serious all the time. Sora even brought that big bag of emergency supplies but we only rarely see it get used.

Taichi and Koushirou are a little more wary, though they come across as mainly confused.

Mimi wants to go eat burgers right off, but Taichi convinces her they should go home first. “Oh yeah, I have parents” - Mimi, probably.

They get on a train. The Digimon are very cute. They finally notice that no one’s paying attention to them. It took 0.3 seconds for Tokyoites in ep 21 of 99 Adventure to start freaking out over Koromon, so this was a big clue if you somehow missed that there’s something not right.

On the other hand, for a world that is presumably an illusion created by some Digimon, it sure is, er...

... accurate in surprising ways, bahahaha

(no seriously did we NEED bikini girls?? did we NEED them? I know it’s everywhere on every train for all kinds of proucts but did we NEED them here)

(the TEEN 17 in particular is killing me)

Some gratuitous Taichi spam

Mimi lives in the affluent Shibuya area now so the kids split up to continue on home. I love Taichi called her ‘ojousama.’

Taichi wonders if Yamato and the others got home okay too. Koushirou wonders if whatever was causing the blackout has really been defeated. (Mimi’s theory is “Sora-san and the others must have done something about it!” Which I just liked because by naming her she identifies Sora as the one she feels closest to awww)

They won’t say it, but the truth is these two are kinda disappointed... lol

However they won’t be disappointed for long... because this midnight train really isn’t going anywhere. *wink* see what i did there

Mimi’s walk home has also turned into a labyrinth. Which is totally normal for Toyko subways really. Mimi gets so tired from walking that she starts hallucinating that Palmon’s head is in fact an avocado.

Girl you got a problem but no judging. I got the same problem.

AVOCADO BURGER!! Think of it in your heart and it will appear!

Now that’s not creepy at all.

Several episodes ago we learned that Mimi has never seen The Mummy. Apparently she’s never seen any horror movies at all, because she still approaches the counter to order her freaking burger even after seeing the cashier’s shadowy clearly evil visage.

YOU GET WHAT YOU PAY FOR LITTLE GIRL

On finally realizing that this train can’t go anywhere but Shibuya, Taichi and Koushirou get off and reunite with Mimi, who has learned nothing and continues talking to people. The only possible result of this is...

... creepy eyes appearing and trying to EAT her

Mimi: “Taichi-san!!”

she could ask her partner for protection but Taichi’s around and he’s everyone’s big brother so

The cause of all this mischief turns out to be this creepy dude! He’s kind of cute!

Also rather larger and more solid than I anticipated!

Of course this nightmare won’t end so easily.

You know you’re in for it when the walls are covered in glowing red eyes. That uh, shoot laser beams at you.

Cyclops: Not lasers! Concussive optic rays!

It turns out there wasn’t just one creepy dude, there were many. I’ve found my Halloween costume!

Our heroes finally figure out that this world is not their real world when they come across these tetris people.

For someone who’s never watched a single scary movie, Mimi does an impressive white-girl-in-a-horror-flick face.

I know she’s not white I’m saying she’s good at impressions she should become a comedienne

Now that we know the blackout in Japan is still ongoing and causing all sorts of issues, we get our usual peek into what’s going on for the people of Tokyo. We get to see Hikari! She’s cool as a cucumber. Her mom’s freaking out and packing a suitcase. Her mom says “Hikari go get ready!” Hikari just says “Oh I’m ready anytime!”

Hikari: I’m not worried about anything, big brother’s taking care of it!

Awww we get to see Miko! And that looks like a cat carrier <3 Mom’s not leaving their furry friend behind in the dark while they evacuate to grandpa’s place in Ibaraki...

... She is apparently cool with leaving behind her only son though! X’D

The letter reads “Taichi, we’re going to Grandpa’s place in Ibaraki. Call me when you get home.” The arrow says “Address.”

Ibaraki is a bit over an hour from Tokyo (I used to live there!) so not too far and very easy to get to by train. Still... there’s a huge power outage, I can only assume Mom’s reason here really is evacuation and not just “seems like a great time to go on a visit!” but she doesn’t know where one of her kids is and she’s just like “eh no worries he’ll figure out his way home!” Does she KNOW her son is 11? Japanese kids use trains very independently but again, POWER OUTAGE. ONE HOUR+ AWAY.

I’m remembering episode 1 when Taichi was acting like such a Dad and his mom was totally on board. Apparently that is going to be a Thing in their family. Taichi is the kid in Home Alone. Scratch that, he’s like the pets in Homeward Bound X’D

Mimi is understandably disappointed that she doesn’t get to shower... I mean see her parents... I mean, eat a freaking avocado cheeseburger

But Palmon knows how to make her feel better. “We’ll come back here someday and eat avocado cheeseburgers together.”

Mimi: “Heck YEAH I’m psyched!! AVOCADO CHEESEBURGER!”

this show understands the only true way to a woman’s heart is through food.

Our heroes are surrounded by Homunculus from FMA.

They merge together forming the aptly named EYESMON!!! lmao

Look at freaking long Greymon’s cyborg arm is. Whut.

AtlurKabuterimon gets hit by a train buhaahaha. Somehow this was way funnier to me than Lilymon getting hit by a plane or buildings falling on MetalGreymon.

The kids are outnumbered when look who appears!

The three of them sitting on Zudomon is the cutest thing ever also I JUST NOTICED ZUDOMON’S DOLPHIN PATCH WHAT THE HECK HAS THAT ALWAYS BEEN THERE!??!?!?!!?

So this was the reunion ep after all! I’m a little disappointed just because I wanted something more dramatic.

What Fizz, illusion magic and homunculi plus exploding Shibuya isn’t dramatic enough for you?

I mean EMOTIONALLY dramatic. Like, someone should hug.

Oh well. This is the face Taichi makes when he sees Yamato. D’aww. I guess i’ll be satisfied with this.

Yamato gets them started on a plan and they all fight as a group!! But Koushirou’s realized that this Digimon, whatever it is, is what’s causing the blackout. They can’t properly defeat it...

... and it’s already the night of the third day. Soon their 72 hour window will be up. Then Ariel will turn back into a Mermaid and the Sea Witch wins :’<

We end with an ominous digivolution! Next week....

Orochimon!!! I love multi headed monsters.

More Taiyama action!!! Lookin a bit beat up but still cool!

OK so in sum this episode was pretty fun. I still feel like the writers for this season just don’t dig in deep enough to really make things come alive. They’re so concerned with battles that they miss moments for fun character interactions etc. And in the end, the whole of this episode can be recapped simply as “They discover the world they’re in is an illusion and they fight the bad guy.” However, we got a lot of fun with Mimi in particular, and though we didn’t get the kind of Taishiro teamwork my heart yearns for, at least we saw them sticking together and hashing things out.

I really do hope this show dials up the character relationships a bit soon though. We keep getting tidbits so it’s not like they don’t have things planned. It’s just a matter of execution. Anyway I’m happy to have the whole group (well as many as we’ve got so far) together again!

#digimon adventure 2020 #digimon adventure:#digimon adventure reboot #digi spoilers #digimon #fizz watches digimon 2020

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hostilebutcuddly · 3 years

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Kingdom Hearts

[Tag: nobodie's ninja]

Name: Lan Fan Alias(es): Lanny, Lan, Fanny (use at own risk) Age: 22 Height: 4’9 Weight: 135 lbs Hair: Black Eyes: Dull reddish violet Skin: Light Gender/Pronouns: Female, she/her Orientation: Demisexual/Panromantic Distinguishing Characteristics: Automail left arm.

Background: Lan Fan hails from a world that was once ruled by a powerful emperor who had many children divided into clans, each with the ability to vie for the throne. Her place was not among these however. Instead; Lan Fan was born and raised as a royal guard. Trained to be an expert in the ninja arts, her sole charge was the prince of the Yao clan; Ling. A job she felt she'd had since childhood mostly because they'd grown up together.

Even with the skills she built up over time however it always seemed to be a job she felt unqualified for. Ling was often proven to be more than capable of taking care of himself. With a strong will, he was even able to manifest a keyblade at a young age. Still, as they grew she and Ling became experts at cooperative fighting styles, and she was glad that at least she could have his back if he ever needed it.

At one time in their history there had been many keyblade wielders, but as time passed the gift became rare and when Ling showed himself to be what seemed to be the last of the line, his right as heir was almost guaranteed. This came at a cost however, as the council separated him from the rest of his siblings. Very quickly Lan Fan became his only friend. Since she had to go almost everywhere with him anyway she often found herself pulled into whatever misadventures or other situations he'd gotten himself into, sometimes followed by her grandfather; the second of his guards and the man who raised her.

The more they tried to confine him for his 'protection' the more he taught himself how to sneak out, where to hide, and the many ways he could go farther and farther away from home before being found out and inevitably brought back for a scolding; which Lan Fan found herself often included in as well. And if not then her grandfather would usually get to later. He was always softer on her in private though.

The final day seemed just like the others had been. Ling sneaking away from his lessons, collecting Lan Fan and finding a quiet place where they wouldn't be bothered. He'd been practicing creating doorways with the keyblade and now they were going to explore farther than they ever had before. She would have been lying if she said she wasn't nervous, approaching the swirling vortex. But things she never would have done alone always seemed easier when Ling was involved. So they passed through the corridor of light and came out in some place entirely new.

She can't remember exactly what they did while they were there now, the events attached to warm nostalgia obscured by what came after. She remembers that going back through the portal to return home wasn't as scary as going in had been. She remembers saying good night and sneaking back to her home for dinner. She remembers going to bed...

And then being awoken in the night by the should of rushing footsteps. Her grandfather pulling the covers off of her. Reaching for a hair tie only to be told there's no time for that. Loading up her weapons... putting on her mask. Racing to his room only to find him gone. And the throne room, and the hallways where she encountered the first wave.

She never found Ling in the chaos, and had to watch her grandfather fall to the strange creatures that seemed innumerable and unstoppable; along with every other resident and guard in the palace. She lost her mask, her left arm, and almost her life, only saved at the last moment by the arrival of Eris; the goddess of discord. The woman struck a bargain with Lan Fan; she would be spared the fate of the rest of her world and given the chance to search for Ling in the worlds beyond, but in exchange would be bound to serve the goddess for the rest of her days.

With little choice and on the verge of death; she took the deal.

From that time on she was bestowed with part of the goddess' power. Given the ability to heal from most injuries, the power to access corridors of darkness for the purpose of traveling between worlds so that she could go wherever Eris needed her to go. Her missing arm was replaced with a prosthetic made of metal, a weapon in it's own right with spiked leather straps around the knuckles and a hidden blade.

Months passed as she began to learn the ropes of this new life. Leaving many of the trappings of her old life behind and even changing her hair. Everything from her home was gone but for the clothes she'd been wearing that night and whatever she still had tucked within them. Those things she put away save for a few stray kunai. Any other hidden weapons she remade with new materials and new technology.

With no will to make a new mask she now uses a more simple set up with a cloth she can easily pull up over her nose and mouth when necessary. She wears clothes that can more easily blend in with the strange new places she visits and the people she mingles with there.

Powers and Abilities: Since being granted power by the goddess Eris, Lan Fan's skills have expanded beyond her original abilities.

Accelerated healing – Lan Fan can recover from most injuries far faster than she could have before. Cuts and scrapes repair themselves much faster than larger injuries however and the larger it is the longer it takes.

Corridors of Darkness – One of the abilities given to Lan Fan by Eris is the power to open and navigate the corridors of darkness that connect to various worlds. She also uses them as 'cheats' in combat and is becoming incredibly skilled at tossing them wherever she needs them as both a way to get around an enemy's defenses and as a quick escape if it looks like things aren't going her way.

Shadow Walk – For short amounts of time Lan Fan can become smoke like and pass through dangerous areas undetected. She can also use it to avoid blows however the limitation on how long she can remain like that makes it a less favorable option that simply opening a corridor.

Martial Arts Mastry – Lan Fan has been training in various fighting styles for the better part of her life, beginning when she was just four years old. She has mastered most of these styles and still continues to train on a daily basis to hone her skills.

Weapons Mastery and Concealment – Along with hand to hand combat, Lan Fan has also been trained in the use and concealment of various weapons both large and small. Her favored weapons are those that can be easily hidden on her person such as kunai, shurikan, and explosives of varying types like grenades, smoke and flash bombs, and stickies, a grenade like device that is filled with a fast-acting glue that can be used to trap a persons feet or adhere them to nearby surfaces such as walls. However she is also trained in the use of larger weapons like swords, spears, bows, and crossbows.

The Dragons Pulse – Lan Fan has the ability to read the aura or ‘chi’ of living things, allowing her to not only track them but often times gain valuable information about them (for instance, she was able to differentiate the chi of a homunculus from that of a human by the ‘rancid’ feel it has. This ability has it’s limits however as she was unable to recognize Wrath as a non human upon their first encounter). This ability is called ‘reading the dragons pulse’.

Weaponized Automail – Lan Fan’s left arm has been replaced with automail, after being irreparably damaged while traveling in Amestris. The arm that was constructed for her is a combat design that comes with a hidden blade that is tucked into the forearm and emerges behind the arm as an extension of her elbow. The arm also has leather bands around the hand and wrist that are lined with metal studs and spikes.

#nobodie's ninja #out of loyalty

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