#i need to replenish my savings in case something happens

[princecroutons]

How's the peepee man doing?

Peepee man is still on the mend but steadily getting better!!!! he's peeing medium-large more frequently but we still have some small pees here and there. The gabapentin helps, and he's finally getting used to it but I feel bad having to syringe feed it to him 😭 thankfully he likes his urinary health diet + treats!!! and he's been drinking a lot more lately, too 💖 he's been a huge baby the entire time and just wants to snuggle or play

with the storms I haven't been able to go out and get wet food but hopefully it'll clear up enough for me to make a trip!!!

[deadprompts]

𝚃𝙷𝙴 𝚆𝙰𝙻𝙺𝙸𝙽𝙶 𝙳𝙴𝙰𝙳 𝚂𝙴𝙰𝚂𝙾𝙽 𝟽 𝙿𝚁𝙾𝙼𝙿𝚃𝚂.

content warning applies. change any pronouns / wording if necessary.

you're either with us or you ain't.

you do the same damn stink eye as your dad

i'm not saving you anymore.

you should be dead.

i love a gal that takes me to dinner and doesn’t expect me to put out.

you're sitting over there talking outside both sides of your mouth.

i know i had to make a pretty strong first impression.

you’re lucky. don’t forget.

i just bent over backwards to show you how reasonable i am.

it's gonna be dark soon.

did you just threaten me?

you see, now i just think you're lying.

kid. i ain't gonna lie. you scare the shit out of me.

are you kiddin' me?

do soy sauce packets count as food?

i'm dealing in certainties, and i'm doing my part to give them what they want.

what'd he have? a knife?

i get why you did it.

i would not have messed with that guy!

hot diggity dog! this place is magnificent!

i don’t give a shit if you think you’ve found the secret to life.

if you keep thinking everyone's an enemy, then enemies are all you're gonna find.

let me give you some advice.

you should go before you find out how dangerous we really are.

that takes guts... and then there's you.

people want someone to follow.

same goes for you too right?

little pig, little pig, let me in!

i want you to think about what could've happened, think about what happened, and think about what can still happen.

don’t pretend you don’t know the score.

anyone wanna finish the game? come on! i was winning!

it ain’t just about getting by here. it’s about getting it all.

people can try and you set you in the right direction, but they can’t show you the way.

listen, i like you, so i don't want to go hard proving a point here.

we'll win. but we need to wait for the right moment.

i hear your concern. i'm not insensitive to it.

people say i have an expressive face.

i always found it hard getting close to anyone.

that remind you of anyone you know?

if you knew us, if you knew anything, you would kill us.

well pardon me.

look, just put it down...

we need to talk.

hope you're not trying to hide stuff from us 'cause that generally doesn't go over very well.

i feel like i ought to give you a signing bonus.

you bunch of pussies!

nobody's evil. they just decide to forget who they are.

i think i've made my position very clear.

i'm serious. do you want me to prove how serious?

bet you thought you were all gonna grow old together.

whatever you had going for you... that is over now.

what's about to happen is gonna be hard to watch.

if you're having problems of that nature, come to see me.

some people are evil. i've seen it.

i was gifted these pickles.

how about a "thank you?"

i can't be the only one to notice that you got a fat lady in charge of keeping track of rations, can i?

he's an idiot.

you'll get yourself killed.

you should know, there is no door number four. this is it. this is the only way.

speak when you're spoken too.

in case you haven't caught on, i just slipped my dick down your throat, and you thanked me for it.

i can see this is hard on you guys.

we provide security for others. we bring civilization back to this world.

you guys have a barbecue or something and not invite us?

i'll find you.

you were thinking about someone else.

my apologies for leaving the place a bit of a mess, but we got a litany of other shit to attend to!

you like ice cream? we have ice cream.

me? i ain't doing shit.

you got your friend killed.

not making a decision is a big decision.

drink from the well, replenish the well.

suck my nuts.

he's a coward. they're more dangerous.

don't be rude.

this must be hard for you right?

no matter how things go down, i got your back.

we'll crack open some tequila, we'll talk, we'll work it out.

you don't have to do this.

your people are making me lose my voice doing all this yelling.

i'd like to take it back to awkward silence now.

i mean, you have been king shit for so long.

we made it. we can make it. we can.

you're not me.

it’s because you got no guts.

was the joke that bad?

is that you? underneath all that man bush?

thanks for saving my life before. and other time. oh, and the other time.

get on your knees.

you really want to see all these people die? you will.

i am indeed a smarty pants.

what the hell, man?

we're the ones who live.

don't wander around here on your own.

[halfetirosie]

🐟🦊🐟 At least there's a silver lining to this shitstorm!!! 🐟🦊🐟

(Scales 11 - 13 React-os!)

Is it a happy ending? No. But it wasn't as bad as I was expecting it to be! ദ്ദി ༎ຶ‿༎ຶ )

1) I know I'm just repeating myself at this point, but this moment is very TELLING about how this village, by the chief's own admission, really view merfolk.

"we could say this is what you live for"????

---BITCH?!?!?!?!

You know what this shows me? A NAUSEATING amount of feelings of UNJUSTIFIED ENTITLEMENT.

Even though Umi told the villagers multiple times that he wasn't protecting the island for their sake---and it's a known fact that they massacred merfolk in the past---they've deluded themselves into thinking they're entitled to his protection; despite how SHITTY each and every one of them are. 😡😡😡😡😡

2) ✨ A RARE HEROIC (or I guess anti-heroic?) KUYA!!!!! ✨

YASSSS, BITCH!!!! TRASH IS MEANT TO BE BURNED!!!! 🎉🔥🎉🔥🎉🔥🎉🔥🎉🔥

I know that Eiden is probably going to stop Kuya soon, much to my annoyance, but I really needed a small victory in this depressing-ass event...

3) Oh GOD...

FOR FUCKS SAKE, LET ME JUMP INTO THE SCREEN, ALREADY!!!

IF NO ONE ELSE IS GOING TO TELL HIM WHAT HE NEEDS TO HEAR, I'LL DO IT MYSELF, DAMN IT!!!!

Umi, whoever this "him" you made a promise to is, he is not in the minority of humanity. I know that people can be pessimistic about the nature of humans, since we tend to remember negative events more than the positive ones, but I can confidently say that the majority of humanity at least have a sense of basic morality.

Unfortunately, though, it seems that that guy WAS in the minority on this island.

SO JUST LEAVE THESE ASSHOLES!!!! THEY DON'T DESERVE YOU!!!!

4) Umi, please stop torturing yourself!!! You already know the answer to this question!!!!! 😭😭😭😭😭

THE ANSWER IS A BIG, FAT NO!!!!!

Hell, I would even go so far as to say that it never "the place of your promise," since it was never a place worth protecting in the first place.

----WAIT. 😨 (⊙_⊙)

UMI, WHAT DO YOU MEAN "PROTECT FOR ALL ETERNITY"?!?!?! YOU SAID IT YOURSELF; YOU ONLY PROMISED TO DO IT FOR A CERTAIN AMOUNT OF TIME, UNTIL THE SEAS NATURALLY STARTED TO RECLAIM THE ISLAND.

UMI, YOUR PROMISE WASN'T FOR ETERNITY!!!! DO NOT GET IT TWISTED!!!!

UMI, DO NOT DEDICATE YOURSELF TO THIS ISLAND BEYOND THE BOUNDS OF THIS PROMISE!!!!

5) GODDAMNIT, UMI!!!!! 😱😱😱😱😱😱😱

NOOOOOOO!!!!!! 😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭

6) ???? Another ✨ HEROIC KUYA ✨????

Okay; it's kinda unclear what Kuya did here, but the fact that Kuya even did something instead of just watching bullshit happen (his usual M.O) is proof enough to me that he somehow saved Umi's life.

I DON'T CARE THAT UMI IS NOWHERE TO BE SEEN!!!!

We don't know what type of fish he is! He could've easily slipped away in his Tiny Fish Form while everyone was semi-blinded from the light!!!! 😤😤😤

To specify, here's my theory as to what happened here:

Usually, if someone where to lose all of the essence they have, they would die. That is what happened in the past for the creation of the original fish scale relic.

HOWEVER, we know that in the case of yokai, if they lose a ton of/the majority of their essence, their life won't be in danger; they will simply revert to animal form and be stuck that way for a long time, until they've replenished their essence. We know this from Kuya's story of the Lord of Yokai doing that to him after he tried to take his own life, and also from Kuya doing that to the tanuki.

Therefore, when Kuya used his essence while Umi was making the relic, I think he either 1) Made some of his own essence go towards the relic (so Umi wouldn't lose ALL of his and then die), OR 2) Injected his essence into Umi the moment he lost all of his.

Personally, I think the first option is more likely, since idk if the second option is even possible.

BUT ALSO: Notice how in the image of the new relic, the scale is entirely a blue/green, except for that one tiny bit of purple on the bottom-righthand side???

UMI'S SPRITE NEVER HAD THAT SHADE OF PURPLE, YA'LL. 😎

7) Oh, my poor, sweet child... 🤦‍♀️🤦‍♀️🤦‍♀️

One again, THE ANSWER IS A BIG, FAT NO!!!!!

Kuya should've burned this place to the ground when he had the chance!!!

8) I honestly can't even tell if Kuya is lying or not.

I mean, yes, I believe he did decide to help save Umi's life. However, I don't know if he did it out of acknowledgement/respect for Umi. I think it's more likely that he did it out of pity, or a sense of obligation to save a fellow yokai.

BUT, then again, as I mentioned in a previous post, I theorize that Kuya may have made honest attempts to get along with humanity in the past. So, I feel like there's a chance that he secretly sympathized with Umi's struggle.

🤷‍♀️

9) HELL YEAH, I FUCKING KNEW IT!!!!

THANK YOU, KUYA!!! YOU DID SOMETHING GOOD FOR ONCE!!!!

🎉🎉🎉🎉🎉🎉🎉🎉🎉🎉🎉🎉🎉🎉🎉🎉🎉🎉🎉

(˚ ˃̣̣̥⌓˂̣̣̥ )

YOU CANNOT TELL ME THAT THIS DOESN'T CONFIRM THAT UMI SURVIVED.

I'm still very upset that Umi decided to sacrifice himself for the bitch-ass garbage-fire villagers---they should've been left to drown.

But at least Kuya was finally able to show a sliver of compassion to others!!!

HOORAY FOR THE-BARE-MINIMUM!!!!

CHARACTER GROWTH!!!

🥂🎉

...

...But does Umi still have his memories??? Is he even a yokai anymore????

...I'll just try not to think about it too hard. This event was depressing enough without adding an extra emotional crisis.

🐟 End of the misery report 🐟

[karizard-ao3]

I just noticed that Anamnesis passed 15,000 hits! To celebrate, here are some lines I wrote for it that didn't quite work, but that I saved in case I could use them later (I couldn't).

Deleted Lines

Eren longed to see the stars again but the constellations he missed most were the ones that sparkled in Mikasa's eyes.

***

“We could just leave him,” suggested Eren, tapping his cartridge cap. The chemicals inside helped a lot, but even they couldn't cure him of being petty.

***

Mikasa frowned when yet another ad for Quantum Zee began to play, the familiar lullaby jingle accompanying the voice actor’s intimate, knowing murmur. She shoved her earbuds into her ears, turning on her music quickly to drown out the words. She didn’t want to think about this. 

***

Eren grimaced to himself, irritated that he’d revealed the macabre underpinnings of his psyche. 

***

"Hey, sex machine," purred a voice.

***

of the climate control grid malfunctioning overhead, dooming her region to the desolation of an eternal summer. 

***

He wasn't young, like them. Meren had been watching him, too, and he stood as though his body was a burden he had borne for years, one that was beginning to weigh him down. 

***

"If you break his heart, I will destroy everything you have ever loved and make sure that you are never happy again. If he breaks yours, call me," Historia winked. 

***

her dark gaze as lush as black velvet.

***

Eren knew that his main concern should be all the stuff about unknown persons bringing Erens over from other universes, but he wasn't from another universe and despite the efficacy of the new chemical blend he was on, which he still needed to go get replenished because he could feel his mental health declining, he didn't really care much if he lived or died.  

***

As an Eren, he could say beyond a shadow of a doubt that there was no way he or any of his other selves would let anything happen to any of her. It was impossible. He was so invested in her well-being that he was still kind of freaking out about how the other Mikasa's labor would go and he wasn't even going to be in the same universe to help.

***

He didn’t want to die. Not now. Not now that he was doing better and he’d found a chemical cocktail that worked and might even keep working to the point that he could get genetic surgery to start making them himself. Not now that he had someone he wanted to spend his life with. 

***

Her heartbeat took on a frantic clamor as she considered his involvement, whether he was safe. She told herself her fear for him was because he had become such a close friend over the past several weeks. She was sure she would be equally distraught if it were Annie or Sasha, or even Reiner or Ymir. But, despite her insistence to the contrary, her worry for Eren was different, more shrill; her desire to keep him safe from harm was laced with the sharp desperation of self-preservation. She was already barely alive. What would become of her if he disappeared or died? What if they damaged him, like she had been damaged? She knew quite well how swiftly and irreparably someone could fracture another person, each crack fissuring until the entire structure of a personality crumbled into something unrecognizable. 

***

"True love means accepting someone for their flaws."

"She doesn't have flaws."

"She doesn't do anything that annoys you?"

"If she annoys me, that's a problem with me, not her."

***

“We’re on a date?” Eren asked, his mood lifting somewhat.

Mikasa’s eyes darted to him, her lips tugging into a frown. “I… I mean, I asked you to come with me tonight, and… and you were holding my hand over there, so I thought…” She ducked her head,  letting her hair fall in front of her face so Eren couldn’t see her blush. “I guess I don’t really know what constitutes a date.”

Eren slipped his fingers through hers. 

***

Erwin didn’t have to schedule himself for night duty, but he did it because he was fair. However, he did whatever he wanted between calls because he was the captain and who was going to tell him not to? He accepted his ice cream cone and left a nice tip in the jar, then strolled down the sidewalk towards the karaoke bar to see if anyone was being rowdy. 

***

What you’ve done doesn’t change who you are, right?”

***

But then he’d met Mikasa, and in an instant there was no longer any question of whether he was capable of love, only whether he could survive without her. "Yes,” he said.

***

boring into her with a searing gentleness 

***

he craved her so violently that he was powerless against himself, desperate to bask in the light of even the palest imitations for as long as he could bear the counterfeit glow

***

 asked Mikasa, more brusquely than she had intended, her heartbeat as rapid and devastating as machine gun fire.

***

her fingers digging into his arm, shackling him to her.

***

Eren’s heart caved in.

***

“I’m in love with you, Mikasa,” said Eren. 

She froze, her entire body going rigid in his arms. 

“I’m sorry!” he gasped, releasing her, his face creased with panic. “I didn’t mean to say it. It was supposed to stay in my head. I’m sorry! I’m sorry!”

She began to shake, her muscles so tense that he could see them straining against her skin. “I’m sorry,” she squeaked. 

***

“Why are you sad, Hange?” Levi asked. 

Hange shrugged. “Just mostly because I feel like no one understands me,” they said. “I’m a strange bird, Levi. And I know it.”

***

"Jean told me you were a troublemaker," Mikasa said, her eyes shining. 

"That fucker! When?" Eren demanded.

"Right when we first met," said Mikasa. "I

***

Not a line, I’m just disappointed I didn’t find a good place to have Meren say something was “urchy” instead of “shitty”. 

***

, her jaw setting. “It would actually be kind of nice not having to worry about staying on my bastard father, Rod Reiss’, good side anymore.” Her angelic blue eyes hardened, an evil glint sparking inside them. “I mean, imagine the damage I could do to the family if I decided to stop pretending to be Daddy’s perfect little bastard princess.” Armin cocked his head and Historia grinned. 

***

Ymir's forehead creased as she pushed the salt back and forth in front of her. A brief, residual rankle of jealousy prickled behind her ribs, but it was gone almost before she realized it was there, a mere echo of feelings long past that were replaced with a golden warmth when Historia appeared and plunked a wire number holder clip down on the tabletop and slid into the chair next to Ymir’s, her blue eyes sparkling like sunlit dew and her cheeks as pink as geraniums. 

***

“He keeps trying to get me to try it, but I want a port like I want a hole in my head.” He cocked his head. “Oh, hey,” he laughed. 

Mikasa grinned. 

Mikasa wrinkled her nose back. “It seems like you and I have the real life version.”

Eren laughed. 

[dangraccoon]

Jari’eyc - Chapter 16

Read on AO3

Word Count: 1696

Warnings: References to "The Summit" and "Plan 99", Saw Gerrara, canon-typical violence, self sacrifice

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Everything is going according to plan, Tech had to remind himself. He would infiltrate the control room with Hunter, Echo, and Runi. Wrecker, Omega, and Crosshair would plant the tracker on Hemlock’s shuttle. Fives and Sinya were on standby (much to Fives’ exasperation) in the ship - just in case they needed a speedy pickup - and checking in with both groups regularly.

Everything will happen the way it needs to, a soft voice called in the back of his mind. It almost sounded like Jaine. Or perhaps the Chromira. 

“Something’s not right,” Echo hummed. “Many of the surveillance systems have had cycled deactivations in various corridors.”

Tech felt his heart rate spike. They weren’t the only ones here. “That is highly irregular, considering the number of top-ranking Imperial officers present.”

“Tech, let’s check it out. Echo, Runi: keep an eye on things,” Hunter decided with a nod.

They moved swiftly through the halls, Tech noting several more disabled cameras along the way. His fingers danced across the console he stopped at. 

“This quadrant of the surveillance system has been fully deactivated,” he worried aloud. “I do not like this; we should leave.”

Hunter’s head turned in a particular way as he stalked silently away. Tech knew that action; Hunter was tracking something.

“Tech,” he called after crouching to inspect something.

The knot in Tech’s gut tightened. “A thermal explosive,” he affirmed.

Hunter came to a similar conclusion to Tech. “Someone is targeting this base,” he said, pressing the button on the side of his helmet to relay the information to the rest of the squad.

“On my way,” Crosshair muttered from the other end.

“One charge will not cause much damage,” Tech noted. 

Hunter’s head snapped towards the other end of the corridor, his blaster quickly following. 

“Good thing we have more,” a stormtrooper sneered, appearing in the hall with another. He raised his hands, and turned back to lower his partner’s blaster. He pulled his helmet off. “Didn’t expect to find you two here.”

“Saw Gerrara,” Tech hummed, the slight surprise evident in his voice.

“I told you on Onderon you had a choice to make. Looks like you’ve chosen,” Saw smirked slightly. He nodded at the other. “Keep an eye out.”

“What exactly is your plan here?” Hunter asked, attempting to disguise the wariness in his voice.

“I’m leveling this compound,” Saw stated smugly. “Along with all the Imperials inside it.”

“Can’t let you do that,’ Hunter said. “We’re tracking one of the officers. We need to find his base. Clones and– and others are being imprisoned there, including one of our own.”

“You expect me to call this off to save a few prisoners?” Saw huffed. “We are trying to fight an Empire.”

“Have you considered that by destroying this facility you are wiping out any chance to gather intel that could help your cause?” Tech tried to hide the anger in his voice, but he was fairly certain he was failing.

It was like Saw couldn’t hear any logic in Tech’s statements.“Taking out several of their top commanders is a good start.”

“That victory will be short-lived as their ranks will be quickly replenished.”

“Maybe so,” Saw shrugged. “But sacrifices have to be made for the greater good.”

“We have to go now.” Saw’s comrade warned. “A security team’s been alerted.”

As if on cue, the doors behind them slid open, revealing a startled stormtrooper. With four people shooting at him, he was quickly taken down. More troopers advanced, returning fire and forcing the group down the corridor.

Tech’s heart rate spiked as a few near-misses screeched past him. He fired at the exhaust pipe next to him, letting out a steady flow of steam. It would provide an adequate amount of cover and distraction for now as Saw helped his companion limp away. He and Hunter ducked behind cover as the three troopers kept shooting.

Reaching into one of his pockets, Tech easily found what he was looking for: an EMP grenade. He activated it, rolling towards the enemies. As it activated, he watched the electricity surge up the bodies of the two stormtroopers in front, narrowly missing the third.

Damn it, he thought as he fired at the last, hitting center mass.

“Nice shot,” Crosshair called as he ran in behind them.

-

“We’ve been compromised,” Hunter shouted over the comm. 

“Shit,” Runi hissed through the vocoder in her mask. Her eyes darted up to Echo. 

They quickly began to exit the compound, coming across Wrecker and Omega as they took down a small squadron of stormtroopers. They came across squad after squad, easily beating them all. 

Finally, they ran into the rest of their own squad. The run through the rest of the identical corridors was hectic, and as they finally boarded the rail cars, Runi sighed in relief.

“We need an access code,” Tech alerted.

“I’ll override it,” Echo answered. 

Troopers began to enter the attached car, the squad shooting at them as the railcar hummed to life.

They speeded away, still in a firefight with the stormtroopers in the other car, but Runi could see the multitude of explosions at the base.

“No,” Crosshair hissed, shooting at the troopers with a renewed fury.

“We’re losing power,” Echo warned, his scomp twisting in the socket.

They took out the last of the troopers as the railcar screeched to a halt.

“This… is going to be a problem,” Tech sighed as he gazed out at the other rail. Runi darted to the vent with Hunter. Troopers pushed the doors of the opposite car open. 

Hunter and Wrecker pushed the doors of their car open, and Runi’s heart dropped into her boots. She had realized how high up they were when they’d hitched a ride on the underside of the car before. But her knees still wobbled as she watched the others standing so close to the edge.

“This is not ideal,” Tech informed them, showing Hunter a scan of the space below them. Beyond the clouds and fog seemed to be nothing but jagged rock formations.

“At least we’re not hanging under the car,” Wrecker shrugged.

Omega scowled at him, gesturing towards the door. “This isn’t much better.”

There was a flurry of red light as the stormtroopers opened fire on them.

“Echo, get this car moving,” Hunter ordered as they fired back.

“The explosions must’ve knocked out power to the rail line,” he explained. 

Tech was typing furiously on his datapad. “I can try to reboot this system, but I will need to plug directly into one of the terminals on the track.”

Hunter seemed to consider this for a moment. “Give us cover,” he ordered the rest of them. “Tech, Cross - up top with me.”

Hunter and Crosshair hoisted their brother up and began to fire on the others.

Echo glanced over his shoulder as they went up, then went back to firing.

“Something doesn’t feel right,” he muttered, just so Runi could hear him.

“We’re without power, dangling maybe a dozen kilometers in the air, and a bunch of people are trying to kill us,” she grunted. “We’ve dealt with worse.”

“I am plugged in,” Tech said. “Stand by.”

“We’ve got three ships inbound,” Hunter called out.

“Where? I can’t see them!” Omega worried aloud.

“Fives?” Echo shouted. “We have ships inbound, do you copy?”

“Copy, Echo,” Fives called. “We’re on our way.”

The ships fired, raining green plasma down onto the cars, hitting the connections to the rail line with eerie precision.

The cars jolted and groaned. Runi lost her footing, but the second she regained it, a searing pain burned through her left shoulder and she cried out. The hit knocked her backwards, her head hitting the edge of the car with a sickening thud.

“Runi!” Echo shouted, he wrapped his good arm around her waist, pulling her behind the walls of the car for cover. “Now!” Tech called.

“Echo, we need to move,” Hunter said, his hand pulling Echo’s shoulder.

“I need to make sure she’s okay,” Echo argued.

“I’ll check her over,” Hunter told him. “But we need to go.”

“Right,” Echo shook his head, rushing back to the socket.

“Tech, get in here!” Crosshair shouted. 

“I am… working on it!”

“Runi?” Hunter said, pressing a hand against her chest plate.

“I- I’m okay,” she muttered, using her good arm and Hunter’s proffered hand to pull herself up. She stumbled a little when upright, but went right back to shooting, using the side of the car for balance.

The car shifted again.

“Tech!” Wrecker called. “Hurry up!”

“I am climbing… as fast as I can!”

“Not fast enough,” Crosshair growled. “Wrecker, get me up top.”

“Not with those ships up there,” Hunter shouted. “Why aren’t we moving?”

Echo grunted. “The weight of the car is pulling us away from the track!”

Another shift halted Tech’s progress, dropping him back down to where he started.

“Ni kelir ve'ganir laam ogir niist.” [I will get up there myself.]

“Cuir’ika, gehv!” Tech called over the comms. “Gar kelir ve’ganir mhi bintar kyrayc!” [Little Four, stop it! You will get us both killed.”

Runi stumbled to the back of the car where Wrecker and Omega watched in horror.

“There is no time,” Tech sighed.

“Tad’ika, gedet’ye!” [Little Two, please!”

“Plan 99.”

The air around them all seemed to go silent, despite the blasterfire, despite the screaming of the ships overhead. Runi didn’t know what that meant, but she knew that tone.

Wrecker growled. “Don’t you do it, Tech.” 

Runi stumbled over to Echo, grabbing him by the shoulders, hissing at the pain in her own.

“Runi-”

“Echo,” she breathed. She couldn’t see his eyes through his helmet, but she stared through anyway. “Ni kar’tayl gar darasuum. O’r shol’shya yencuyot, gar rucuyir ner riduur. Echo, Fives - ni ceta, ner cyar’ike.” [I love you. In another future, you were my spouse. Echo, Fives - I am sorry, my darlings.]

Runi released his shoulders, rushing towards the back of the ship as Tech shot and severed the connection hinge.

Wrecker lost his grip on the other car, and as he, Crosshair, and Omega screamed, Runi jumped out of the open car.

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Thanks for reading! - River

Jari'eyc Masterlist DangRaccoon Masterlist Taglist Form Read on AO3

Tags: @lokigirlszendaya @idoubleswearimawriter @serenityselene @nomercyforthewarrior @ravenclawbitch426 @luna-the-lone-red-wolf @techs-goggles9902

[vincord]

do you have any other songs you associate with milgram ... (blinks cutely)

I listened to the songs by ashbury heights you mentioned in one of your previous posts and they all fit SO WELL?? I was mind blown

Not really, to be honest :[ That is, they won't cause a mind blown like Ashbury Heights songs, I guess. The songs I wrote about earlier are suitable for Kazui in my opinion with absolutely every line and sound. In the rest, which I will write, I prefer to ignore some of the lines. Sorry. Almost all of my song associations are related to the Kazui's case, so. idk why. __ "S.T.O.P. The Sun" and "Sometimes" by And One. (Initially, I only thought about the first song, but after the last answers to the questions where Kazui talks about his father, I realized that "sometimes" is also incredibly suitable for him)

I mean

Daddy said that I'm a good boy, 'cause I always did his will, But I can't remember, Was it me? How did I feel? I call them family, But in the heart of hearts I know, There's something wrong with me, What can I do?

IT'S ABSOLUTELY HIM!!!!1!! PLEASE!!! and I say this not only because he is my highest kin and because I really feel this song. absolutely not. _ And sometimes I think about "Advance" by Diorama. I'm not sure I got the lyrics right. seem to me somewhat confusing and complicated + not in my native language. But I like to associate this song with him too.

Life-recovering sleep Reveling in self-contained illusions Illusive flowers obey the dawn Is it my way ramifying before me Paralyzed with sadness here I am Carry me - anywhere and she'll be waiting Let me be - resting by her patiently and Maybe she - will shatter all the truth inside my Agony - a promised word to save the silence

It's like a hope that marriage with Hinako and she herself will somehow help him and save him from torment, but this does not happen. _ Of the songs in Russian, I like to associate with him "Love Songs" by Ug 404 and Leg Band. (The first line of the song contains a mention of self harm and I prefer not to take it into account, unlike the rest of the song)

The walls are aggressively pressing We are just the cogs of the system I can't save you And there is no warmth and there is no hope either Only for you in the dark will I turn on the light

the realization that both are trapped, but Hinako is still dear to him as a friend and he cannot leave her.

+ "Lights" by Grandfather's Sweater. This song has already appeared here.

__ I would also like to mention Fuuta and Kotoko. I associate both of them with the songs of the russian band Pornofilmy (don't let the name fool you. they don't sing about something obscene). The songs of this band are about politics, simply put. Injustice of the authorities, inaction of the police, or vice versa, abuse of authority, despair and so on. It is difficult now to insert lines of text from some of their songs into the post for example. It's just hard for me to listen to these songs, but it seems to me that they are very suitable for these two.

__ Maybe there would be more examples here if I could listen well to foreign languages (I mean, I perceive a foreign text normally and an approximate translation immediately goes through my head. but in the case of songs, when you need to listen to it, there are problems with fast processing of information. so). Still, I listen to a lot of songs, but I don't always listen to the lyrics. Maybe sometime in the future this list of associations will be replenished.

Thank you for this question!! I am VERY glad that you asked it. I hope I haven't loaded you with too much information ^^' I waited a whole year in the fandom to write a huge canvas of text about song associations. no jokes

and it's not really a song association or anything. but

I spent my days by the red lights And I was bored to tears A never saw a shade of green I never shifted gears

"Traffic" by Ashbury Heights.

[rev3rb]

Hi, it’s me again. Now we’re really getting somewhere!!! New info about the progenitors’ origins, about angels on other planets, and about their purpose overall. Plus them obviously pointing at the parallels between the plagues & punishments The First and Guren both dealt with. History is obviously repeating itself which makes me really curious about their God’s motives. Particularly bc they haven’t done anything about the plague that’s so lethal to all their subjects. Bc seriously, HALF of them are gonna die?!?! And this has always been a problem left unaddressed 🤨 Perhaps the chp title is a clue. Ik Yuu wondered if they were in Hell, but to me it matches better with the idea of Purgatory.

There was a lot of good stuff, I think one of my favorite aspects was seeing more of Urd and Saito together. Them being paralleled with Yuu and Mika was great. I also enjoyed how trippy it was to see all the angels act so adoring towards The First. Truly, my only complaint is that it’s gonna be a bit difficult if we need to remember all the different names for the angels/progenitors lol

Hello Anon!

Yes! After all this waiting we're finally getting somewhere significant! I'm just hoping that it keeps up and we don't take another multipage "Yu needs to eat to replenish his energy" break soon. It can be nice to be "realistic" like that, but it'd just be an annoying detour if it happens.

Oh, I really adore how history is repeating itself because that sort of thing has been present throughout the series, just less obviously. Everyone has been constantly making the same mistakes, and I've always felt like OnS's story has been about breaking that cycle of similar mistakes. I believe I've talked about it before but Yu and Guren are very obviously meant to parallel each other, and Yu is (most likely) supposed to succeed where Guren failed. The fact that Guren is now being compared to The First is wild. Never thought that would be the case. It's actually really interesting.

The plague. See, I'm wondering if The First didn't somehow do something about it. After all, while most of them are demons, it's worth pointing that that everyone shown is still alive today. Maybe turning them into vampires/demons was how he saved them. I kind of doubt it and think it's part of a step in The First's plan instead, but who knows? This does make me wonder though, nothing the characters we saw in the flashback have ever made any indication that they remember stuff this far back. It makes me wonder if they just don't remember, either as a result of being turned into vampires or bc The First didn't let them remember.

While I do agree with you in the whole "this seems more like Purgatory than Hell", it is worth mentioning that, as far as I remember (my knowledge is admittedly limited), Purgatory is meant to be something you can eventually leave once your sins are atoned for. I don't really think there's any atoning going on here. The First is committing a "sin" and is willing to be punished eternally for that. But yes, I think the idea is supposed to be Purgatory since the chapter title is that.

So happy we got to see more of Urd and Saito together! Their dynamic ended up being really interesting, and it was nice to see that, at least before Saito left Urd, it hadn't really changed all that much between what we saw here and when they were both vampires. As for the name thing, I don't think we'll really have to worry about it since Mika and Yu don't seem to know those angel names. If anything it'll likely just be used in passing since really, we're taking Mika and Yu's perspective on things for the most part, so what they call characters will be more at the forefront.

Thank you yet again for your ask! Things are picking up and I hope we continue on this path! It seems like we're getting closer to figuring out what Yu really is and what's going on.

[priestess-of-ra]

shoot-of-corruption:

One of them was hunger. Insatiable and always present. When the presence of Ryou and the writhing creature became too much, he had gathered enough shadows to replenish his energy somewhat. The other thing couldn’t hinder him anymore, the game was over.

The darker voice got through to his mind and he stared at his partner in crime in awe, before he realized the words had come from him. Ryou was closing in and he was sure that damn creature still had an ace up their non-existent sleeve. He’d have to end this quickly before anything drastic happened.

The thing was winding and screeching in pain and terror and he dove through the room for the only thing that would hopefully deliver the killing blow.

He became corporal again once his hands closed around the cold wooden edges of something that most people would consider their own in a home and he hauled the object towards the open window, ignoring the lusty flutter in his stomach, when Ryo declared to the damn thing where exactly it was headed in such a tone of voice

He yanked the mirror into the sunlight and directing the light reflection right at that disgusting thing... they weren’t so different in essence, still he felt no pity. The thing should have known what it was dealing with, when it had engaged in combat.

“Beep Beep, Richie~” He hissed menacingly.

A widening smile appeared on his face as the being before them howled its dying scream. His heart was pounding in his ears, but it was clear to him that this thing wasn't going to last much longer. It was utterly beyond him how this plan he had effectivelly pulled out of his ass had somehow worked, but it did! And that's all that mattered. 

"Are you alright?" Ryo asked, turning his head toward Mariku. God, he felt so guilty. The so-called 'paranormal expert' couldn't handle the case and needed the guy he was trying to impress to save him. Embarrassing. The smile fell from his face as he turned the phone flashlight and the actual flashlight off, tucking both away in his leather bag. "I'm so sorry about all this, genuinely. You took a bit of a beating back there, are you hurt?" Even when he was the one in the most danger, all his attention was focused on his companion. Typical Ryo, worrying about everything and everyone before he even stopped to consider himself. But just to make sure... he hurried over to him and started looking him over for anything obvious.

"...Maybe we should get out of here before the owner comes back. Or his family." That thing wasn't exactly quiet, nor this neighborhood entirely uninhabited. He wouldn't be surprised if someone had called the police already. "I can't believe I couldn't handle it on my own. I'm so sorry, Mariku, I didn't mean for this to happen."

shoot-of-corruption:

One of them was hunger. Insatiable and always present. When the presence of Ryou and the writhing creature became too much, he had gathered enough shadows to replenish his energy somewhat. The other thing couldn’t hinder him anymore, the game was over.

The darker voice got through to his mind and he stared at his partner in crime in awe, before he realized the words had come from him. Ryou was closing in and he was sure that damn creature still had an ace up their non-existent sleeve. He’d have to end this quickly before anything drastic happened.

The thing was winding and screeching in pain and terror and he dove through the room for the only thing that would hopefully deliver the killing blow.

He became corporal again once his hands closed around the cold wooden edges of something that most people would consider their own in a home and he hauled the object towards the open window, ignoring the lusty flutter in his stomach, when Ryo declared to the damn thing where exactly it was headed in such a tone of voice

He yanked the mirror into the sunlight and directing the light reflection right at that disgusting thing... they weren’t so different in essence, still he felt no pity. The thing should have known what it was dealing with, when it had engaged in combat.

“Beep Beep, Richie~” He hissed menacingly.

A widening smile appeared on his face as the being before them howled its dying scream. His heart was pounding in his ears, but it was clear to him that this thing wasn't going to last much longer. It was utterly beyond him how this plan he had effectivelly pulled out of his ass had somehow worked, but it did! And that's all that mattered. 

"Are you alright?" Ryo asked, turning his head toward Mariku. God, he felt so guilty. The so-called 'paranormal expert' couldn't handle the case and needed the guy he was trying to impress to save him. Embarrassing. The smile fell from his face as he turned the phone flashlight and the actual flashlight off, tucking both away in his leather bag. "I'm so sorry about all this, genuinely. You took a bit of a beating back there, are you hurt?" Even when he was the one in the most danger, all his attention was focused on his companion. Typical Ryo, worrying about everything and everyone before he even stopped to consider himself. But just to make sure... he hurried over to him and started looking him over for anything obvious.

"...Maybe we should get out of here before the owner comes back. Or his family." That thing wasn't exactly quiet, nor this neighborhood entirely uninhabited. He wouldn't be surprised if someone had called the police already. "I can't believe I couldn't handle it on my own. I'm so sorry, Mariku, I didn't mean for this to happen."

[sleeping-on-cracking-ice]

heyo your imagines are amazing and i like reading them so much. i really appreciate you for writing for Alice in borderland as there isn’t a lot of content out there~ can you please write an imagine for niragi where the reader has been at the beach for quite the time and when she gets to know niragi she somehow falls for him because she sees right through him, and that he maybe starts to develop feelings for the reader too because she’s fearless and very confident. if it’s not too much trouble, could you make it a bit suggestive as well? thank you in advance~~

Of course I can! I’m not the best at writing with suggestive themes so I’ll try my best! 😅 I’m sorry but I changed the story line a little bit for it to fit more, so I hope this is still kind of what you had in mind.

Unlovable | Suguru Niragi

{Alice In Borderland Masterlist}

Character(s): Niragi (ft. Ann, Aguni, Hatter, Mira, Chishiya, Arisu, Last Boss)

Summary: Niragi finally finds you, who loves him for who he is, well, not exactly. And he gets a bit too attached.

Warnings: toxic relationship, suggestive themes, a lot of gaslighting, obsessive themes, a little bit angsty, threatening, choking, swearing, name calling

Word Count: 3.2k

*reader is female

Author’s Note: Sorry this took a while to post. I was busy for the past couple of days so it’s kinda rushed 😣

“Y/N! Come quick!”

You jolted awake as Ann burst into your room, shaking the door frame from the force. You blinked your eyes to adjust to the light, looking at her dazed.

“What?” you murmured, sitting up and out of the comfy sheets on your bed. 

“The executives have called a meeting. They say it’s urgent,” she stressed, rushing up to the side of your bed and ripping the duvet off of you.

You shivered and sighed loudly in disappointment. “Why? It’s too early for this shit,” you whined, rolling back onto your side and closing your eyes again. These urgent emergency meetings have become ridiculous, always taking place in the morning when everyone’s still sleeping. You would gladly have quit having the higher place at The Beach if it meant for you to have some peace and quiet.

“Now!” Ann pushed again. You groaned in annoyance and got out of bed. She seemed serious, so you didn’t want to anger her more.

You both quickly made your way to the top floor where the meeting room for the executives was located. You noticed Ann’s heavy breathing and worried expression, making you anxious as to what she thinks could have happened.

Hatter had left the night before to replenish his visa, having a big celebration as he drove off with Aguni and a few more of his men. Things had been becoming more tense as time went on. It felt wrong watching Hatter drive away so reluctantly. You offered to assist him in his game, seeing as you earned yourself a high number at The Beach from clearing many difficult games yourself. But Hatter declined, insisting that he would return to The Beach safe and sound before you knew it.

But unfortunately, he was wrong.

You and Ann rushed into the large room. You saw Arisu and Chishiya standing near the end of the table placed in the middle of the room. You strolled over to them and laid eyes on the scene before you.

There, Hatter laid dead on the table. Limbs spread out lifeless, skin pale and dead. The horrific sight made you feel sick, making you cover your mouth with your hand. The scene almost felt unreal, this shouldn’t have happened. Hatter wouldn’t be dead if you just went with him.

Ann walked over to his body to examine it, but before she even had the chance to touch the bullet wound embedded in his bare chest, Niragi barged into the room with his usual cocky and obnoxious aura filling the air like a bad smell.

“Oi, don’t touch him as you please. You dissection maniac,” he growled.

Your eyes followed him closely. Now that Hatter was gone, people like him could start dangerous trouble at the hotel. But, as long as you said something about it, you would make sure Niragi wouldn’t start any fires that he’s not willing to put out himself.

After all, you were the only person who knew his true self, and how he perceived everyone around him. It was pathetic really. In a way you took pity on him. Such a simple tactic for the brain to protect itself, become a heartless and cold monster towards others so no one could ever do the same to you again.

With Niragi, unfortunately it was hunt or be hunted.

You kept your strong gaze on him as he lifted his eyes to meet yours from across the table for a hot minute. His dark orbs glistened as they locked with yours, making the tension in the room become thicker as every second passed. He smirked in your direction before turning away.

“He was shot by a gun,” Ann stated, breaking the thick silence in the room. She looked over the small hole in his chest in fascination.

“What will happen to The Beach?” a young man asked who was standing nearby you. You stayed silent, not wanting to start anything that may end in chaos. You always had good points and valid arguments, but sometimes you knew when the best time was to bring them up. This was not it.

“I mean it’s only reasonable for the strongest to become the new leader!” Niragi exclaimed over everyone. “We need someone who can take good care of The Beach and keep order,” he yapped on, swinging his sniper rifle all around making a few people flinch when he aimed it at them.

You rolled your eyes at his behaviour. Trust him to be the most opinionated.

“I say, how about Aguni as our new leader,” he suggested, leaning forwards onto the table and watching everyone like a hawk. Aguni held no reaction, keeping his usual cold stone expression while having Niragi speak for him.

After no one reacted, all looking down to the ground to avoid Niragi’s gaze, he stood up straight and pulled a bored expression. “That’s not a good reaction,” he mocked, “Last Boss?”

You glanced over to where the hooded figure stood, watching in fear as he unsheathed his katana sword and rushed over to Ann, holding the deathly sharp blade a few inches from her throat. Your heart leaped to your mouth. If he was to try anything, you were ready to start chaos.

But nothing of the sort happened. Ann simply sighed frustratingly and held up her hand obediently. Niragi hummed, approving.

“This isn’t a majority vote,” Mira hissed from next to him.

Niragi stood and leaned his face close to hers, holding the barrel of his weapon close to her face to threaten her. “But it is! Isn’t it? After all, you’re all free to vote as well.”

One by one, he slowly circled the table, each person being scared for their life the closer he got to them. But you remained calm next to Chishiya, knowing that considering the relationship you have with Niragi, he wouldn’t do anything that would hurt you. He didn’t have the guts to.

As he moved from Chishiya, he finally locked eyes with you. He quickly strolled up to your still frame, stopping suddenly very close to you in an attempt to make you feel threatened. ‘As usual,’ you thought to yourself. ‘The old “I’m taller and bigger than you so I’m stronger” stupid tactic.’

“And what about you princess? Care to raise your hand for a vote for Aguni?” he hissed into your face. You held your neutral expression, becoming bored from this act he was putting on. It was purely for show, and yet wasn’t everyone’s personality? But Niragi, his act of this scary psychotic man angered you to your core.

“What if I don’t?” you snickered, walking towards him in an attempt of intimidation. He took a step back in shock. “It’s not like you need my precious vote, you already have so many.”

Niragi’s usual cocky smirk melted from his face, turning into a frustrated scowl. You felt him put his rifle underneath your chin, forcing you to lock eyes with him. “Be careful with that tongue of yours sweetheart, you wouldn’t want to lose it,” he growled quietly.

His threat made you smirk, almost bringing butterflies into your stomach. “I think you should be more concerned about that head of yours. You wouldn’t want to get it stuck too far up your own ass.”

You flinched as you felt his rough hand shoot from his rifle to your neck, instantly tightening around your throat making you widen your eyes in surprise. You lifted your arm and gripped his wrist in case he tightened his hold anymore. The look on his face was deathly. If looks could kill, you’d be already a few years into the afterlife.

Chishiya stood beside you watching the whole scene. He knew better than to intervene, as he could tell that Niragi wouldn’t ever intentionally permanently hurt you.

Niragi held you still as he leaned down to your ear, his hot breath hitting your sensitive skin. “Shut your fucking mouth you brat. You wouldn’t want me to hurt you too much later, would you?” You cringed as you felt his tongue slide behind the back of your ear, the piercing making you shiver.

“Niragi,” you heard Aguni say, saving you from the public embarrassment of getting felt up by Niragi in front of everyone you knew. “That’s enough, I think she gets the point.”

Niragi grunted in annoyance before loosening his fist on your neck. You sucked in a huge gasp of air, coughing slightly. Chishiya placed a gentle hand on your back in a sign of care, hoping that you’re okay.

Niragi aimed his rifle lazily at Chishiya’s face. “She’s fine, don’t touch her. A little choking is nothing she can’t handle.”

Chishiya immediately took his hand off of you, being taken back by Niragi’s comment.

You stood up straight after recovering, laying your eyes back on Niragi as he continued terrorizing the executive members.

God you hated that man. You hated how much you loved him.

*************

The room was now empty, consisting of no one except for you and Ann, who was still looking over Hatter’s body for any other injuries. You watched curiously, arms crossed and eyebrows furrowed.

“Seems a bit weird, doesn’t it?” you spoke up through the silence.

“What does?” Ann answered, not bothering to look at you.

“Someone with a hundred percent winning streak dies now? Just as the tension between the militants and the others was getting to its peak?” you questioned.

Ann rolled her eyes sarcastically and turned towards you. “Took you long enough to figure out. Really? You didn’t suspect that from the start? Even after that shit-show that Niragi pulled earlier?”

You were taken back by her sudden anger. Ann never became mad at you, even if she had a legitimate reason to. You looked at her as she stared into your eyes intensely before sighing and turning back to Hatter.

“Sorry Y/N,” she apologized. “I’m just stressed. This shit is getting too heavy to handle, and now with Hatter gone and Aguni in his place, who knows what will happen to people like you, me, Mira, Chishiya and Alice. They could kill us if they want to.”

Her words hit your heart heavily. It was true. Aguni and his militants were never a particularly predictable bunch. And you weren’t exactly on all their good sides, well, except for Niragi’s.

“Sorry Ann,” you muttered out quietly. You thought it would be best to leave her alone. She obviously was quite distraught from Hatter’s death.

You shuffled out of the room, head held low in despair. Who knew what would happen to this place now? It was like a ticking time bomb only no one knew how long there was left until it exploded.

As you walked through the large door frame that led outside of the meeting room, a sudden grip on your arm brought you out of your thoughts and made you yelp. You were yanked into a hard chest, being held close and tight.

“Hey love. How are you feeling?” the person growled. You looked to see it was none other than Niragi himself. Of course it was, who else would treat you so roughly?

You stared into his ominous eyes, trying to read him. He ran his hand down your back slowly causing you to shiver. “Niragi,” you breathed out. You pushed against his broad chest to separate you. “Sorry, but I’m not in the mood right now.”

You stepped away from him and tried to escape down the hall, but he grabbed your hand before you could go anywhere. “Bullshit. You’re never in the mood. And the sass you were giving me in there in front of everyone says otherwise.” He pulled you back towards him, pushing your head onto his shoulder and nuzzling into your neck. “I didn’t like how you treated me, it made me upset.”

He was lying through his teeth, knowing that making you feel guilty for defending yourself against him would bring him more of your attention. Simple gaslighting, worked every time.

You chuckled against him then leaned back and cupped his face with your hands. He held a sad expression on his face, obviously to make you sympathetic.

“You’re such a big baby,” you laughed. “Try to act so tough and dominant in front of everyone, but look at you now. Crying into my shoulder about your feewings?” you mocked him. Niragi scowled and pulled his head out of your hands. “Shut up, as if you’re any better.”

It was true. That’s why you both clicked together. He was a gaslighting maniac who knew how to put up a fake ‘nice guy’ façade around you and you were a tough and snappy woman, who felt much too much empathy for others.

That’s how you fell into his trap. He used your empathy to his advantage, making you fall in love with him so he could have what he’d always wanted. Someone who loves him for who he is, no matter how many masks he had to put on for them.

You wrapped your arms around his shoulders, leaning up and pressing a small peck onto his lips. “Can you promise me something?” he suddenly asked after you pulled away from his face.

You grew anxious about what he wanted and nodded your head slowly in hesitation.

“When the chance comes, can we leave The Beach together? Like, run away?” he questioned, snaking his arms around your waist and squeezing tightly.

You laughed at his question, making him frown. He was being completely serious. “And go where Niragi? There’s not exactly a place we can go to.”

“Anywhere,” he answered sharply. “We could find a nice little hideout in Tokyo. Just you and me, no one else.” His grip on your waist tightened, making you flinch in his arms slightly.

He could see you tossing between answers. It wasn’t working, he had to try something else. He put on the fakest sad face he could do and pressed his forehead against yours while pouting. “Please? I promise I’ll take care of you.”

You practically melted as his begging. “Okay,” you sighed.

“Promise me,” he reminded you, running a hand through your soft hair.

There was a short moment of silence before you answered. “I promise.”

*************

You laid in your room with the sheets tossed lazily over you. Niragi was called to go talk to Aguni again before he went to sleep, so you were waiting for him.

Your eyes scanned your book quickly, wanting to finish the chapter you were on before Niragi returned. Because god forbid you having your attention on something that wasn’t him when he was around.

You glanced over at the door when you heard it creep open and Niragi stepped in, placing his sniper rifle carefully on the ground nearby and removing his boots.

“You took your time.” you teased, putting your book on the nightstand and sitting up in bed. Niragi groaned tiredly, stumbling over to your shared bed and collapsed dramatically face down onto the duvet. You giggled at him, running a soft hand though his midnight hair and pulling it out of it’s hair tie.

If he was a cat, he swore he could’ve purred at your touch. It made him feel warm and fuzzy inside. Not having physical affection for years on end does that to a person.

He sat up and crawled over to you. He grabbed your chin and pressed your lips together roughly, running his tongue across your mouth as he did so. You groaned into the kiss, wrapping your arms around his neck, making him smirk against your lips.

After a few minutes, he detached his lips from yours and started licking and sucking your sensitive skin on your jaw, slowly making his way down your neck. He felt shivers run down his spine as you gripped his shirt in your fist on his back. He loved having this power over you, and having you accept him and love him enough to not fight back.

You leaned your head back and closed your eyes, giving him more access to your neck. As you did so, he placed a hand on your lower back and pulled you towards him, forcing you to lie down on the bed with him hovering over you.

He pulled away from your neck and looked down at you, admiring your anxious expression painted across your face. He chucked. “What’s wrong baby,” he cooed, leaning down and continuing kissing your collarbones.

His voice was dripping in sweetness, so sweet it could’ve made you feel sick. It sounded fake, but you didn’t pick up on it. It was a shame. You saw Niragi as nothing but a victim of his own mind, but you weren’t able to see yourself becoming a victim of it.

“I’m just...” you mumbled out, feeling weak and vulnerable under his touch. “I’m scared Niragi.”

He pulled back again and looked into your eyes with a worried expression. “Why are you scared? It’s just me and you here angel. You’re perfectly safe,” he whispered out, stroking his knuckles down your cheek lovingly.

You knew you loved Niragi, but knowing he can change his personality in a blink of an eye unsettled you. Who knew when he would do that to you? You heard him speak up again.

“We’ve slept together many times before, why are you becoming shy just now?” he teased, lifting a hand and slowly running it up along your tummy underneath your shirt. Your breath hitched as his cold hands made contact, making your stomach muscles tense.

“So sensitive,” he cooed again, snuggling his head into your chest, just above your breasts. “I love you.”

The confession made your heart skip a beat and you tensed. Niragi noticed this, making his body fill with anxiety. Did he say it too soon?

“Sorry,” he mumbled against your shirt. “That was a bit much, you don’t have to say it back,” he gaslighted.

“No,” you cut him off. “I love you too.”

Niragi’s heart filled with warmth and he felt all his nerves tingle around his body. He hadn’t heard that since he was a kid, and hearing you say it did nothing but make him more fall in love.

“Thank you, Y/N,” he sniffed out. You looked down to see him staring at you, tears filling his eyes. It made your heart ache.

He took his body weight off you and hovered himself above you again. “I promise, I won’t let anyone ever hurt you,” he mumbled, voice cracking slightly. His arms that laid on either side of your head acted like a cage. Whether you were trapped willingly or forcefully was beyond your guess.

As he leaned his head down again and pressed his still wet lips against yours, you felt his lanky arms snake around your torso underneath you, keeping you in place.

You laid there, moving your mouths together and holding each other as close as possible. It would’ve almost been romantic and loving if it wasn’t for the context. While one was preying on their victim to achieve what they’ve so desperately wanted their whole life, the other believed that that person was the victim themselves.

Such irony, to love someone who has a ‘unlovable’ personality, when it’s not even the one that you fell in love with.

The one you fell in love with was nothing but one of his many masks. And no one could determine whether he would ever take it off in front of you.

Author’s Note: I’m so sorry this one was actually hard to write. It’s a bit all over the place but I hope it was still enjoyable to read! Also I’m not going to do a Part 2 to this fic, but if you want to read something similar to this kind of yandere theme with Niragi, read my other fic called You’re Everything You Once Hated. I’m going to be posting a Part 2 of that one soon.

[starlightrows]

4 — The New King

The Queen of Tatooine Masterlist

← Previous - Next →

Pairing: Boba Fett x reader

Word Count: 2.8k

Warnings: Discussion of losing parents, mention of disordered eating, bed sharing

Summary: Saved from an untimely death by starvation and exposure, Boba offers you a place in his palace

*This chapter contains an Easter Egg for an upcoming series that severely deviates from canon*

When you wake up your head is throbbing and you feel sick to your stomach, you’re so hungry. But the one thing you don’t feel, is cold. In fact you’re actually quite warm and comfortable at the moment. You crack your eyes open and are confused to find yourself wrapped in a worn blue blanket, laying in what looks like a large storage closet with a mattress on the floor.

You peer out the open door and see you’re on a ship. How did this happen? Who’s ship is this? Suddenly your stomach growls loudly… you smell something… something good. It doesn’t matter who’s ship this is, you have to eat whatever it is that smells that good.

You clamber out of the sleeping closet and see Boba turning off a hot plate and sealing a bag that surely must contain dehydrated food. He turns when he hears you.

You stare at him, at the food. You’re confused and starving. Having no idea what to stay you just stand there.

He offers you a hand, a gesture to approach “It’s not the most flavorful or healthy dining option” he says “but it’s hot, and will be ready in just a few minutes”

You step closer cautiously and look up at his face “How did you find me?” You ask in an unsteady voice

“I went back to the inn and saw what happened to it. And the town. Followed the road, I figured you’d take the shorter path with water even though it would be uphill and colder” he explains, handing you the sealed bag and a long handled spoon. You open the bag and dig in, not even caring what it is. “Eat slowly Princess, you’ll make yourself sick”

He’s right. You’ve seen it before. Travelers who haven’t eaten in days… weeks even… come to the inn and eat a lot of food in a short period of time… they land up retching in the woods behind the inn. So you slow down and actually taste the food as you eat it.

You make it about half way through the meal before you feel a little sick. You don’t normally eat this much food to begin with. So you set aside the bag of food and let your stomach settle. Boba is eating from a similar bag of food. You study your current meal companion and apparent savior.

“Why did you come back? Why did you come after me?” You ask

“I told you I would” he says “I came back to extend you an invitation, to come to Tatooine”

“You want me to go to Tatooine with you?” You're surprised by that. Sure he’s said it the last time you’d met, but you didn’t think he’d meant it. Men who pass through little towns like yours generally don’t keep promises to return.

“You don’t have to by any means” he says “But the offer is on the table”

“I can’t exactly refuse, can I? My home and businesses are gone…” This is coming out all wrong. This man just saves your life and you’re treating him like he planned this all out “I’m sorry… that was rude and ungrateful”

“You are not wrong” he points out “Put it another way. As you have said, you can’t go back. So I’ll offer you a choice, Princess. Come with me to Tatooine, or tell me anywhere you’d like to go and I will take you there”

“You would really do that? Just ferry me anywhere in the galaxy or take me back with you to Tatooine? That is a kindness I can’t repay”

“You already have. You saved my life that night in the storm. And I did promise you I would come back for you”

“Why?” You ask in a whisper “why would you come all the way back here? You owe me nothing… even if I did let you come in that night”

“Because you made an impression, little one. I found myself thinking about the sweet innkeeper at the edge of the universe often. Even before you saved my life. I always planned on coming back for you, I only wish I had done so sooner”

You let his words sink in. I always planned on coming back for you. You can feel your heart beating in your chest and your cheeks flushing with heat. “I’ll go with you” you say softly “back to Tatooine… Let me work in the kitchens or something to be useful in your household”

“We can talk about that later” He chuckles. “I know it isn’t flavorful, but I want you to eat and get more rest. Replenish your strength”

Your stomach is full, given that you usually don’t eat heavily on a regular basis. But he’s right, you know you need to eat more. Not just right now to recover from hypothermic exposure, but in general. That’s always been a struggle for you. But you do try. The food is right there, and he has been kind enough to offer it you freely.

Boba returns to the cockpit to manually fly his ship, you force yourself to eat at least a few more bites of the rehydrated food he prepared for you. You take the blanket from the cot where you woke up with you, and climb up into the cockpit to sit with him.

He doesn’t turn when you slide into the seat next to him but he does when he notices you wrapping the blanket over your shoulders.

“Apologies Princess” he says “This ship was not built for comfort”

“It’s alright. Just a little cold” you run the edge of the blanket between your finger tips

“You won’t be cold when we reach Tatooine” he chuckles

“No, I suppose not. I’ve heard Tatooine’s binary suns make it so that nothing grows” you can’t imagine it. A world where nothing grows. You grew up in the greenery of a forested planet, at the base of a mountain with rich soil for growing vegetables.

“Tatooine is rather desolate” he admits “Most of the palace is actually built underground to keep cool”

“The palace” you muse “And how does being king suit you so far?”

“The Hutt’s left that place a mess. The palace and their business affairs. It’s all been a nightmare cleaning it up” he admits “My partner Fennec and I have only been able to clear out a few rooms, the business affairs take precedent”

The word partner pulls you up short. Your heart sinks. Partner… your mind immediately jumps to significant other. If that’s the case, then why is he inviting you into their space? Does this person know Boba has made this journey to see you? Do they know he’s bringing you back with him? Your mind races, and you feel a bit measure of panic setting in. What if this partner has no idea, and gets angry? What if this situation turns sour and you have to figure out somewhere else to go?

“You’re awfully quiet” Boba observes “Have I said something to offend you?”

You figure you may as well ask… better to know what you’re walking into rather than go in blind. “Your partner” you swallow the waver in your voice “What are they like?”

“She’s a former bounty hunter like me” he says

Oh no… now you’re really in trouble…

“Hmm… and she’s just fine with you flying off to the edge of the galaxy to visit an innkeeper?” you try not to make the question sound like an accusation.

He turns to look at you with the ghost of a smile on his lips “You misunderstand little one. Fennec is my business and hunting partner. She has no influence or opinion over my personal affairs”

Relief floods your heart, followed instantly by embarrassment. “Oh, that’s… that’s good I suppose. I just didn’t want… I didn’t mean… I just don’t want to cause problems”

“You’re not causing problems. I offered this to you, and to be honest I am glad you accepted,” he admits

That makes you feel better, a little more at ease. In that moment, you realize why you’d reacted so suddenly and severely in your mind. You like him.

You haven’t had many crushes in your life, not a ton of opportunity for it. When you were young there were a few other kids your age in the settlement, maybe one or two of them caught your interest, a few secret kisses in the barn or behind the one roomed school building, but it never lasted, and for good reason. The people who passed through your inn were never really the type you had interest in either. Until now…

Hours pass sitting in the cockpit next to him, chatting about your life in the settlement and his traveling on his own since the age of ten.

You don’t want to pry, but you do make a comment on it “Ten is quite young to be on your own”

“You said yourself you were young when your parents passed and left you with the inn” he points out

“Suppose loss like that makes a person independent” you sigh

“Would have been nice if we didn’t have to be independent so early in life” he said curtly

“I would have liked to have brothers or sisters” you say wistfully “At least things seemed to turn out well enough”

“I think if my father had lived longer, I would have had a younger sibling” Boba says “I think my mother wanted a another son or daughter”

“Your mother never found love again?” You ask sympathetically

“No idea, I haven’t seen her since the beginning of The Clone Wars” he says, starting the command sequence to drop out of hyperspace

Since the beginning of The Clone War… over thirty years ago… “That’s very sad” you say quietly

“It’s better this way. I don’t think she would be proud of some of the things I’ve done” he says “But maybe someday I’ll find out what happened to her” You take that as a queue to drop the subject.

The ship drops out of hyperspace, and Boba starts the landing approach sequence. Tatooine is a massive planet. Even from space you can see it’s yellow sand and rock formation topography. It’s a wonder how any species manages to live there, given the prominent lack of water or greenery.

As the ship flys down closer to the surface you find that the chill of space dissipates, and heat radiating off the planet's surface permeates through the reinforced walls of the ship. You shed the blanket that had been keeping you warm before even touching down.

The palace is massive. The biggest structure you’ve ever seen. Three cylindrical towers built into the cliffs overlooking The Great Dune Sea.

Boba engages the ground security protocols, and lowers the ramp and escorts you to the intimidating durasteel door. There are no guards, no one patrolling to prevent entry. Boba opens the door with no indication of announcing his entry. The entryway is a short sandy strip of a room leading to a descending staircase.

He offers his arm to you “Careful Princess, these shifting sands make these steps more slippery than you’d expect”

You accept his offer, and place your hand in the crook of his arm and start down the staircase. He’s not wrong, loose sand on stone is slippery and you are glad to have his arm for stability.

The staircase ends and leads into a large space clearly meant to entertain groups. The room is in disarray. It is clear, based on the drag marks and blood splatter in the sand, Bib Fortuna and whoever else of Jabba’s entourage remained died at the hands of Boba and his partner. Outcropping in the stone walls lined with low couches, pillows, tables and chairs. Many of which are broken or knocked over. A large grate in the center of the floor sits at the foot of an elevated platform. A throne.

Boba lets your arm go, freeing you to move about the space and explore. He ascends the shorter staircase to reach the throne and sits, quietly observing you. After a moment you turn to him, and take in his regality. He’s intimidating with his emotionless helmet and solid stanced posture. A king in every right.

You smile at him and give a small curtsy “My lord”

He chuckles behind his mask, so very contrary to the stoic picture he paints with his armored silhouette. “Come, allow me to show you the rest” He rises from his seat, and extends a hand for you to take.

He shows you down a hallway lined with doors, explaining they’re private rooms previously used for guests. “Most of them haven’t been cleaned in decades”

“You would think with all the credits the Hutt’s had, they’d pay for cleaning services” you shake your head

“Unfortunately I haven’t had the time to clear out many of the private quarters. Just the Master’s chambers and a single guest room Fennec uses” he tells you, turning down a hallway with an ornate door at the end. Clearly the Master’s chambers he was referring to.

The room is bigger than the footprint of your inn. High ceilings to let hot air rise, an en-suite fresher with a deep soaking tub, a massive bed is the only furniture left in the room. It’s beautiful despite not being decorated or well maintained. But you could imagine it was much worse if this is what Boba describes as “cleaned out”.

“If you are comfortable, I would like to invite you to stay with me in the Master’s chambers” he says from behind you “At least until a room can be cleared out for you, if you so choose”

You whip around to look at him. An offer to share a bed with a king. He must see the touch of fear in your eye because he quickly speaks again.

“I have no intention of asking favor of you. I only wish to make sure you’re comfortable here. You have my word.”

You soften at his promise, and give a silent nod before thinking better of his hospitality. “Thank you”

Later that day you finally meet Boba’s infamous partner, Fennec Shand. She’s got a sharp eye, quick wit and a taste for good spotchka. It’s an interesting tale to hear how they came to meet and land up in each other’s company.

As there are not yet staff or guards in Fett’s employ, dinner is some kind of hunted desert beast Fennec killed yesterday. It’s actually not too bad, but not like the game hunted on your homeworld.

“In time we will get this sorry excuse for a capital back up and running” Boba says when the meal is finished “Full staff and guard and reopen trade”

“I can help begin clearing out the palace” you offer “Make suitable accommodations for your staff and guard, and any allies that may come to stay”

Boba looks to you “You are not obligated to do so little one, but your help is appreciated”

“I enjoy having projects” you admit with a smile “Things to work on and keep me busy”

“Then you make take the task, for so long as you choose” he smiles at you.

Despite his haggard appearance, Boba has a nice smile. It softens him, brings out the light in his eyes. You find yourself returning the smile, and unable to wipe it from your face.

The evening comes to an end. Fennec excuses herself to return to her own bed chambers. Not without casting a sidelong glance between you and Boba, still chatting away. Eventually Boba leads you back to his own chambers. True to his word, he takes his robes into the fresher to allow you the privacy to change into borrowed sleeping clothing.

“I’ll buy you new clothes tomorrow” he promises, climbing into the oversized bed beside you.

Your impulse is to thank him politely and decline the offer, but given that you are his guest and no longer have property of any kind, it’s a kindness you have to accept.

“Thank you” your cheeks burn with heat, a little embarrassed to be needing so much from him at the moment. Borrowed clothing, a place in his palace and in his bed.

You get down under the blanket on the bed. Night time in the desert is quite cold, and sandstone walls that keep the palace cool during the day turn the air chilly when the binary suns set.

Boba turns towards you, laying on his side, he looks as if he wants to say something. Ask you something. But instead he just stares, with his dark soulful eyes and seemingly perfect hint of a smile

“Goodnight Princess”

Tag List: @cannedsoupsucks @otterly-fey @paige6768 @littledragonlady @star-hoes @aeryntheofficial @xx-small-town-witch-xx

[gretelsfifthcousin]

The Arid Lands

(Transcribed directly from the game, errors included.)

The last rains of the southwest region of the Scorched Expanse happened so long ago that they have almost been forgotten. Satrana, learning of this terrible situation, became eager to lend a hand and do something to aid those suffering. But great acts require great participants, so the witty mage rolled her eyes as she thought long and hard about who would be a reliable enough accomplice, and once again she thought of no one better than the person she saw as a mother-figure…

Transcript under cut.

Supply Point: A place where the local tribes keep their relief supplies. It looks like it’s been derelict for a long time. It’s filled with dust and sand.

Local resident: Wonderful! We’re so lucky you brought water! The drought here this year is so severe that our only source of water has dried up. Without water, there’s no telling what’ll become of this place.

Satrana: We’re just following the nature spirit’s guidance to bring water, no need to thank us…

Local resident: There must be other places around suffering from the drought, no need to explain. Please hurry on your way.

Satrana: Well, we…

Local resident: We can take care of ourselves now we’ve got this water, go save the others!

Log: Quickly deliver water to the next station

(After you’ve replenished a Supply Point.)

Supply Point: A place where the local tribes keep their relief supplies. It’s been thoroughly cleaned and replenished with enough water to last for a while.

-

Lever: A lever that alters the running direction of the tracks.

(When pulling the lever.)

The running direction of the railroad tracks changes here.

(If you dispatch the Supply Wagon without changing the direction of the nearby tracks.)

Local resident: Why’re you back?

Satrana: Because we…

Local resident: Pulling down the lever can change the direction of the railroad track, go try it.

Remember! Disaster waits for no one. Action must be swift!

-

(After the Supply Wagon has reached the second Supply Point.)

Local resident: Water, we finally have water! You’re our saviors!

Satrana: Now now, there’s nothing to thank us for! We’re just following the nature spirit’s order.

Local resident: What’s this about gods and spirits? I’ve been coming to this supply point for three days and you’re the only ones I’ve seen bring water.

Satrana: I’m sorry… I was late.

Local resident: Oh my, whatever are you saying, lass? My hope was all but gone, so I’m really grateful to see you folks show up.

Antandra: It took us longer than it should’ve to get here, the transport links aren’t exactly convenient.

Local resident: You’re not wrong, don’t fret. Things here in the sticks are a bit different than that abundant oasis, Dura’s Gift, you folks hail from. We don’t have a lot going for us here. As for these gods and spirits or whatever you mentioned. I haven’t ever seen any.

That’s why when the Hypogeans descended, our ancestors knew you didn’t have the spare hands to help us out, thus they built this simple railway track. It was the best way we smaller clans out here could send support to each other.

These supply points are the same ones we’ve always used to send supplies and information to one another with.

That said, there’s still plenty to lament. We got our fair share of bandits around these parts, but even here it’s an unspoken rule that these supply points are a safe zone.

Satrana: Don’t sweat! I’m on the case! I’ll get water to all those supply points.

Log: Replenish all the remaining supply points.

-

(If you pull the red lever after reaching the third Supply Point, and then attempt to dispatch the Supply Wagon.)

Antandra: Seems the track ahead hasn’t been lowered.

Satrana: You’re right, Antandra! You have excellent eyesight! But, now what?

Antandra: There’ll be a switch somewhere nearby, let’s go find it.

Log: Find a way to lower the tracks that are on the high ground.

-

(When arriving at the Supply Point right before the one with the nearly broken tracks.)

Satrana: Antandra, wait for me! Wait - Wait for me! Antandra!

Antandra: ……

Satrana: Antandra, why don’t you say something? What’s on your mind?

Antandra: I was thinking, these tracks don’t look to have a certain direction.

Satrana: Darn, what a hassle. Let’s just give the lever a pull and see what happens! Keep it simple.

Antandra: ...You've been chattering incessantly since the get go, and you’ve been doing things without caution… I very much doubt it was Numisu who sent you to deliver water, am I right?

Satrana: Of course he sent me!

(Muttering) If you weren’t being so weirdly cold, Antandra, I wouldn’t have had to keep thinking of ways to spice up the atmosphere around here.

Antandra: ...Fine. But if you have time to talk, you’ve got time to deliver water, so move it.

Satrana: I know I know!!

There’s a tunnel ahead, I wonder what’ll be on the other side?

Antandra: Come, let’s go find out.

-

Smithy: A shack decorated with a lot of ironwork, it looks like there are signs of life inside.

(After passing the railway track that’s partly broken.)

Log: When you passed by the railroad track, you heard creaking sounds from below, a sound you had not heard previously.

(After attempting to dispatch without pulling the Lever ahead, causing the Supply Wagon to pass over the partly broken railway twice.)

Satrana: Ah! The track broke! How’d that even happen…?

Antandra: The years without maintenance combined with the dry climate and hot weather… It’s not that unthinkable.

Satrana: Alright, but then how exactly will we get to the next station?

Antandra: We can take a look around for help, but if that’s a dead end we’ll have to go back.

Satrana: But I promised that local man…

Antandra: I’ve been telling you forever not to make promises you’re not certain you can keep.

Satrana: ...I’m sure I can resolve this!

Smithy: A shack decorated with a lot of ironwork, it looks like there are signs of life inside. I wonder if there’s a Blacksmith here?

Satrana: Whoa! Antandra, look at the setup here, it looks like a Smithy.

Antandra: Yeh, an abandoned one.

Satrana: Maybe there’s still someone around?

Blacksmith: There certainly is! But if you two don’t give me a good reason for breaking into my house you’ll be in for it!

Satrana: D-D-Don’t get the wrong idea! We come to deliver water, but the tracks broke, so we wanted to ask for help…

Blacksmith: I do work with iron, but not to repair railroad tracks. You’ve got the wrong guy.

Satrana: Wait a second, you work with iron, tracks are iron, it’s fine… Yeh, totally fine…

Blacksmith: Interesting, you young little girl. You said you’re here to deliver water? First time I’ve come across such a thing. I didn’t think any outsiders were coming to this damned place anymore.

How about this. You leave the water here and go collect the materials I need, then I’ll help you fix the tracks.

Satrana: Deal!

Log: In order to repair the tracks, you must first find the material the Blacksmith requires.

Storeroom: Materials required by the Blacksmith to repair the railroad are stored here.

Log: Material collection is complete, return to the Blacksmith.

Satrana: I’m back! Here are the things you asked for,

Antandra: And water.

Blacksmith: Hoho! Well done, I’ll fix it for you.

(If you pull the Lever and change the direction of the tracks ahead, you’ll move on without any of this taking place.)

-

(When arriving at the Supply Point east of the Storeroom.)

Satrana: Antandra, take a look. The tunnel is pitch black, but it kind of looks like there may be a fork in the tracks.

Antandra: If the path does split, could a shortcut appear by finding the right line of track to merge onto?

Satrana: Good idea, Antandra! Let’s give it a go!

-

(After reaching the final Supply Point, regardless if you’ve delivered to every Supply Point before it.)

Satrana: Wow! We actually did it! All the water has been delivered! I’m exhausted…

Antandra: It wasn’t Numisu that sent you on this water delivery errand, but you decided to do it yourself, right?

Satrana: How’d you figure it out…

Antandra: You know even less about this place than I do, you don’t even have a map. If Numisu sent you here, he’d have to have told you first, wouldn’t he now?

Satrana: I just…

Antandra: You did good.

Satrana: I just… Huh? Antandra, did you just compliment me?

Antandra: Ahem. Well, you still have a lot to learn, so after today… make sure you keep doing your best.

Satrana: Hey, hey! You mean you’re going to get rid of me? Hey - don’t go! Antandra, answer meeeee! Hey, waaaaait! ...

[just-a-quirkless-loser]

How Could You Love Me🥺🐬

Gang Orca x Reader

I’ve never seen any fanfiction for this character and I think he deserves it🥺hope you enjoy it.

—————————————————————

It was no secret that Gang Orca was a scary looking figure. Hell, his fanged teeth often hung over the sides of his mouth and his hands had pointed fingers, making his look more like a monster than anything else. He had dealt his whole life with coming to terms that the public would always see him as a monster.

However, no one knows what type of person he really is. No one knew that his real name was Kugo Sakamata or that he can’t stand to eat certain seafood or that his heart fills with sadness whenever people tremor with terror when they see him. No, the public knew him as this savage beast.

Luckily for him, whenever he enters his favorite bakery, all his anger and sadness leaves. All because he sees you, a lovely woman with bright eyes and a full smile. You sit behind the counter and greet him the same way as you have dozens of times before.

“Haiii, Sakamata. I saw you save a bunch of kids from that fire yesterday. Are you okay? I know heat really bothers you. I made some special tea cakes for you today anddddd they have little orca decorations. Get it? Cause you’re an orca? It might not be the most original thing ever but I just thought it was cute,” you hush to him as he enters. At the beginning of your daily encounters, he couldn’t believe how friendly you would be. He hadn’t been expecting friendship when he entered the shop for a quick snack run.

“I think it’s nice how passionate you are. And, I’ve told you to call me Kugo. We’re friends,” he grinned as he looked at the tiny cakes on the counter. “And, I think those cakes are perfect. They’re all for me?”

“Yep yep. I wanted you to have something special this morning,” you started putting the cakes into their container. “You didn’t answer my other question though. Are you okay?”

“I’m fine.”

“You know, I can tell when you don’t tell the full truth. The left side of your mouth twitches up,” you wipe your hands on your apron as you hold out the box for him to grab.

“Well, I’m doing as well as I can be.”

“Did it happen again?” You were referring to the reactions the hero would get whenever he saved someone. Even if he’s a pro hero risking his life, people still chose to scorn him and his looks.

“I can’t really blame people for how they act. I’d be scared too,” he held out the bills for the cakes. You pushed the bills back towards his body, refusing to make the man pay after all he does for you. He even does extra patrols around your shop to scare off and villains. “Let me pay you.”

“No, I pay you with delicious sweets. And, if it’s any consolation, I think people are fools for what they’re doing to you. I’d never be scared of you,” you smile. Unknown to him, your feelings had been growing for the man. You loved his dedication to his work and his steady positive attitude. If it were up to you, you would have him return your feelings. However, you’re a chicken.

“I’ll be back later. I’ve got more work to do,” and he was gone just as quick as he came. While he had come into the shop with a small frown, he left with a large smile which seemed to scared civilians enough to part for him as he passed on the street.

He munched on his cakes, wondering if you tasted the same way. His mind often wandered to what it would be like to be with you without having to pay you visits at your shop. How would it feel to kiss you and worship you? Would you shy away from his? Were you as vocal as you normally are as you’re being held down and pleasured beyond your comprehension?

‘I need to stop this thinking. It only hurts more knowing I can’t have her,’ and it hurts even more for you to watch him leave your shop every day, taking a bit of your heart with him

Gang Orca walked through the town for the day, patrolling for any crime and appreciating the fact that it was a slow crime day. He only had to stop a few purse snatchers which wasn’t hard given they ran away as soon as he appeared.

He walked back to your shop, an extra pep to his step as he thought about seeing you. You’d most likely be closing up with a few strangling costumers, flour dusting your delicate cheeks, your shirt sleeves rolled up to your elbows as you cleaned up the rest of the sweets that weren’t sold.

“Oooops sorry, Kugo,” he walked in only to be ran into by your smaller body. You had been carrying around (well, more like dragging) a table. “Would you mind help?”

“I’d be honored to help. And, you should pay more attention. What if I was a robber?” He picked up the table from your grasp. You continued to smile up at him, rocking from side to side as you jumped from excitement. He briefly wonders why you’re so happy.

“Then, I’d be getting robbed for money that they’d have to pull from my cold, dead hands,” he sputtered. How the fuck can you say things so casually?

“No one is getting robbed. You’re missing the point, Y/N. You need to be more cautious,” he chided you with a gentle chop on the head. You pouted but nodded your head in agreement anyway.

“Yes, dadddddy,” it was meant to be a joke but, your words made him growl lowly. You cocked your head at the sound, wetness slowly pooling.

“Uh, sorry,” he looks away from you and you swear you see a ghost of red across his smooth skin.

“Yeh it’s-it’s cool,” you waddle away to go get three bottles of water. It’s become routine for you and him to share drinks so he can replenish his strength. A few of your costumers are still at their tables, some frozen with apprehension of the hero.

“Mommy, is he a villain?” Kugo can hear a hound boy ask his mother. They sit right behind him, right behind is large frame that shrinks to make the boy feel more at ease. “Mommy, I’m scared.”

“He is kinda scary but, it’s okay. He’s a hero. Let’s just leave in case he isn’t friendly though,” you come from the back just in time for the woman to be caught trying to rush out.

“Umm, you have to pay,” you push the water bottles into his chest and turn to the mother with hands on your hips. “You didn’t just sit here and eat all those fucking bonbons just to steal them. And, in front of a hero nonetheless.”

“We we’re going to pay. Just...tomorrow,” the woman shuffles from side to side, throwing anxious glances at Sakamata.

“Why when you could pay now? I should make you cough everything up so you can eat it tomorrow then,” it’s moments like these Kugo is reminded you’re not always as sweet as your aura suggests. He’s learned that you’re not a pushover when someone pisses you off.

“My son is afraid?”

“Of what?!?! There’s a literal fucking hero here. I know you saw him; he’s impossible to miss.”

“No, you misunderstand. He’s afraid of the hero,” there’s a pregnant pause before she speaks again. “See, I knew you’d underst-“

“Get the fuck out of my shop and never come back,” you say it with such venom it surprises him. You look at her with fury as you close into her space. “You think you get to encourage your son judging him without consequences? People like you make me sick. You should be teaching him to appreciate people, no matter what they look like,” you angrily shove her shoulder backwards, making Kugo step in to pull you into his chest.

“Calm yourself, little one. Don’t get yourself worked up over me,” he whispered into your ear. You sank into his body, allowing him to calm you.

“Did he just threaten you? Do you need me to call someone?” She just had to say something. Self-restraint has never really been your thing anyway.

“He just saved your ignorant ass. I already told you to get out of here. If you aren’t gone in the next moment, I’m going to slam your face into the wall behind you and make your your child watch as I pull your hair from your scalp. Then, he’ll see that anyone can be a fucked person, no matter how sweet they may look,” you had a dark look in your eye. You sound more like a villain than he looks (and that’s saying something). The woman scurries out, followed by some of your costumers that had heard the incident. Something tells you they won’t be back any time soon.

“I never knew you could be that scary, little one,” with your costumers gone, the large bakery felt hot and heavy. Sakamata seemed to dominate the air with few words, making your inner submissive mewl in his presence.

“She pissed me off. It’s because of people like here that kids grow up to fear you; discrimination is taught,” you sighed as he pulled you even closer, his hips pressed into your back.

“You can’t put the blame solely on her.”

“So, that just gives people the right to mistreat you?”

“You know that’s not what I meant.”

“Then, what did you mean?” You pushed away from him so you could turn around to face him. Why can’t he just accept that this isn’t his fault?

“I hate when you look like that,” he was closer than ever before. Your breaths came out in puffs that mingled with his.

“Like what?” You looked like a picture out of a magazine with your lips slightly parted, your pink tongue farting across your lips, silently challenging him to lean in to taste your essence.

“Like you’re anything other than happy,” he settles for resting his forehead on your own. You could only wonder what the two of you looked like right then; the large man hunched over to meet your small frame.

“How can I be happy when you talk down on yourself? Why can’t you see what I see?” tears flowed as your fists beat on his chest to ecentuate your words. If only you had stopped to feel how hard his heart was beating for you. “Why can’t you just love yourself like I love you?”

Your confession stuck in his brain, hanging around to his every thought. Knowing you felt the same have him a faint hope however, he crushed it just as quickly as it came. Women like you don’t fall in love with men like him.

What type of life would you have if the two of you started to date? He couldn’t take you on normal dates, he wouldn’t be able to show you off as normal people do, you’d miss so many things as you bound yourself to him. How could he possibly do that to you.

“How could you love me,” he pulls himself away. He knows his next words will hurt you but, he’s convinced himself that this is what needs to be done. “When I don’t love you?” And he left you there in your shop, broken to the realization that men like him don’t belong with women like you. Words haven’t been created to describe the pain you feat and the sense of defeat that crossed into you.

It was your fault for falling in too deep. You fell for a man that you had only know from stopping to your shop; a man that you can admit you barely knew. Maybe, you persuaded yourself that your infatuation was something beyond the mere encounters, that your infatuation was blossoming love. Yes, it was your fault.

He stopped coming to your shop and, eventually, you closed your bakery. You couldn’t stand being in the place that you met your first and last love; everywhere you looked, you saw him. You saw him moving tables and chairs, you saw him pouring cream hearts into lattes, you saw him rubbing his worker fingers on your face. If only it was real.

You opened another shop but, instead of working there like the last time, you hired workers. You didn’t have the will to put yourself in that situation again, knowing that he, not only shattered your heart but, stole your smile as well. All you wanted to do was lay in bed and watch t.v., not really paying attention.

“GANG ORCA, found wounded from latest fight with villain. He was rushed to the nearest hospital within-“ that got your attention. You were up and getting dressed. You started to narrow down the possible locations he could have been taken to fill you landed on the one (this being one of the only times your analytical quirk came in hand). You rushed to the hospital in your car, pretty sure you broke all the traffic laws.

Running in to the hospital, you were fearful of how you’d see the man you were still in love with. You knew he’d be bandaged but, you hoped that it wasn’t too severe (although, you knew you’d love him despite what he looked like). An inkling of hesitation was in your mind, not knowing how he would greet you if he was conscious. You can only hope for a good reunion.

“I need to know where Sakamata Kugo is,” you must look delusional with your hair barely combed and your half dressed appearance. You’re pretty sure you didn’t even put on pants. You look down to confirm you indeed only have on a very large sweatshirt (no doubt from the hero you come to visit).

“We can’t just let anyone up to his room,” you knew that what you were asking was selfish but, you had to see him. “Family can wait in the waiting room.”

You were led to a dreary room with tan walls and white stripes. You see his mother (it’s not hard to spot the only other Orca in the room).

“This young lady is here for your son as well,” you blush abashedly. His mother looks similar to him, a few differences in shades between them. Her teeth are still sharp but dull compared to his. While his eyes are bright red, hers are blue pools of pigment.

You sit there with her, rubbing her arm in the only normal way you can think. You wish you could hug her but, that seems too personal. She leans into your side but keeps enough of her weight off of you not to crush you.

“I assume you’re L/N Y/N?” you look like road kill in head lights as you look up at her. “He talks about you a lot. Well, not as much recently. He likes you. I can also assume that you feel the same way?”

“It’s complicated,” you look away from her to stifle a few tears that threaten to pool. Even after months of trying to move on, it still hurts. “I thought he felt the same way but, it was probably just me imaging things.”

“Hmm,” she sighs and places her hand on top of yours. “He’s not the best with emotions but, I can tell that he truly loves you. He’d never speak of you to me if he didn’t. Please don’t give up on my son.”

‘He gave up on me,’ you wanted to spout the bitter words but, you didn’t have it in your heart so, you resolved to nodding your head. You probably wouldn’t even see her again after you saw that he was fine.

“Sakamata Kugo,” a doctor comes from the back. The two of you raise to see him, both of you clenching each other tightly. “He’s fine. The blood made the wounds seem worse than what they were. He’s expected to make a full recovery within the next three months. I suggest that you see him one at a time though.”

“Thank you, sir,” he bids you farewell and you turn to grab your things so that you can leave. You found out what you came for. “Where do you think you’re going?”

‘Well, now I can see where he got his intimidation factor,’ you shiver as her eyes narrow.

“I just wanted to know if he would be alright. Now that I know, I can leave,” you’re pushed down into the seat behind you. She looms over you, she dares you wordlessly to defy her.

“You’re going to see him. I’m going to go in and tell him you’re here and then you both will squash whatever disagreement the two of you are having. And, then, you’ll come back tomorrow so I can get to know you more,” she walks off without waiting for your response. “If you leave, just know, I know your name and your face. I can find you if I really look hard enough.”

‘What the fuck just happened?’ You just sat there waiting, the time ticking by slowly. You really wanted to run but, you couldn’t risk her tracking you down. You can just imagine her dragging you from your home and into the hospital.

“He’s ready to see you now,” his mother pulls you from your seat and pushes you towards his door. You stand in front of it, hand on the knob as you still debate whether or not you should try to make a run for it. You doubt you’d get far but, it could still work.

“I know you’re there, Y/N. Come in,” you gulp at his voice. It still has its deep baritone that makes your panties flood. You peep your head in to see Kugo propped up in bed, his leg and right shoulder bandaged up. His red eyes glowed possessively, beckoning you to come closer. “My mother said you were here.”

“Uh yeah, I just wanted to check on you. I saw what happened on the news. We can just sit here for a few seconds so your mom thinks we talked,” you waddles from side to side.

“What makes you think I don’t want to talk?” His way eyes narrow just like his mothers did. Gulping, you try to look away but, he speaks again to get your attention. “Sit down so we can talk.”

“I just thought you wouldn’t want to after, you know,” you place your care keys and phone beside you as you take a seat next to his side. You lean against the bed to give yourself some comfort.

“I needed time to think. I came back to the bakery though,” why does it feel like you’re suddenly in trouble? “Funny thing though, the bakery wasn’t there. Any idea why?”

“We moved locations.”

“And, you never thought to tell me that?”

“It’s not your business.”

“You are my business,” he pulls you into the bed with him, laying you flat against his chest so that you can sit in his lap. “I never said I didn’t want to see you again. I just had to think.”

“It doesn’t really matter now. You made it very clear you don’t want me,” you sniffle.

“I never said that. I said some things that I didn’t mean. I was just scared of being with you. I mean, look at me, what kind of life could you possibly have with me? What would people think of you?”

“WHY CANT YOU UNDERSTAND I DON’T GIVE A FUCK WHAT PEOPLE THINK OF ME?” You want to punch him for the unnecessary torment he caused you. “You always think you have to spare me from something that’s not even fucking there. Why can’t you just admit you love me? Is it so hard not to give a fuck about other people’s opinions?”

“I love you.”

“Too fucking late.”

“It’s not too late if you came to visit me,” he sounds smug.

“You’re going to make this up to me.”

“I expect nothing less from you. I could start now,” his hands start to travel down your body.

“Uh uh. You gots boo boos. There’s plenty of time for that,” you giggle and flick his hands away.

“We’ll see about that.”

——————————————————————————

Tag List💕

@sakurashortstack @sinclairsamess

[aquietwritingcorner]

Embers of Revelation

Author: RealityBreakGirl/aquietlearningcorner Word Count: 11883 Rating: T Prompt: FMA Big Bang 2021 Warnings: Child abuse/neglect Characters: Riza Hawkeye, Roy Mustang, Jean Havoc, Heymans Breda, Vato Falman, Kain Fuery, Black Hayate Pairing: Royai Genre: Hurt/Comfort, Angst, Family Chapter: 4 of 7 Summary: Tasked by Fuhrer Grumman to investigate a suspected alchemic incident, General Mustang’s team finds themselves stranded in Hawkeye’s hometown. Needing a place to stay, they find themselves taking shelter in her childhood home. However, her past can’t stay buried there, and as revelations come to light, they also bring embers of danger with them. Sequel to Embers in a Wounded Heart AO3 || ff.net

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Chapter 4

The next few days continued in a similar vein, with steady rain, but with no lightning storms. Just buckets of rain falling each day. How this was happening and how the storms hadn’t rained themselves out yet, no one really knew. It just rained constantly, and everything was getting flooded and soggy.

Everyone stuck pretty close around the house and to each other until, once again, they were running low on supplies. A trip to town would have to be made, pulling the cart and walking in the rain and mud. No one really wanted to do it, and so they had stretched their supplies to nearly their limit, before even Hawkeye said that there wasn’t going to be much else, she could do with the food they had. Reluctantly, they had made plans to go into town to check on things and replenish their supplies.

Mustang was going to go, of course, because he needed to make some phone calls into Headquarters to report in, and see just what was going on, Havoc was sure. Falman was, as expected, anxious to see if there were any archives in town where he might find more information on Hawkeye’s house. He was certain that there had to be an entrance somewhere, he just had to find it. To no one’s surprise, Breda was going because he said he was going stir crazy being locked up in the house all of the time, and getting out, even if it meant getting wet and muddy all over again, was preferable to staying put when the opportunity to go presented itself. Havoc hoped he still felt that way when he was busy demucking his boots.

The rain had actually slowed down a little bit, and Fuery felt safe enough with that and the lack of thunder and lightning for the past few days, to work on connecting the phone line. He thought about going with everyone else, but this seemed like a better use of his time, and Havoc found he couldn’t argue with that. Havoc’s legs were still hurting him, and he honestly didn’t want to walk all the way into town at the moment, so he volunteered to stay behind with Fuery. Hawkeye frowned at that and decided that it would be a good idea if she stayed behind, if Fuery was going to be up on the roof working, and Havoc was going to be in the house. She could keep an eye on both of them and help out if needed.

The plan was agreed upon, even if Havoc could see that Mustang didn’t exactly look thrilled with leaving Hawkeye behind. After last time, everyone wanted to be more careful, something that everyone could agree with. They had all stayed armed since that day, Havoc making sure he had a backup gun on him too. Hawkeye was, of course, armed the most out of all of them, to no one’s surprise. They were about as safe as they could be. Still, Havoc kept watch on Hawkeye, especially after the other left.

Hawkeye and Fuery got straight to work, Hawkeye showing Fuery the best route to get to the roof and told him of the sturdiest trees if he needed them. Wanting to make himself useful. Havoc went to work in the laundry room, taking care of the clothes that were in there, figuring even if his legs were hurting him, he could still do something. He could hear Hawkeye working on cleaning, apparently still having standards for this old place, although he had no idea why.

For a few hours everything seemed to go well. They all worked on their own thing, Hawkeye going out every so often to check on Fuery. The rain seemed a little lighter than it had been, giving them, all hope that it would ease up soon. Havoc wasn’t sure if the sun he saw was real, or wishful thinking, but he definitely wanted things to dry out so repairs could be made, and they could get out of here.

It was fairly quiet, the light rain pattering, and the radio playing softly when suddenly Havoc heard what sounded like a cry and then the sound of something crashing down. His eyes widened and he rushed out of the laundry room, Hawkeye just a little bit ahead of him. They both bolted out of the door and looked around, until Hawkeye cried out “Fuery!” and started at a dead run, Havoc hot on her heels.

Fuery was laying on the ground, not moving, an arm clearly not laying right. They rushed up to him, Havoc’s heart clenching as he feared the worst. Riza knelt by him, headless of the muddy ground and felt for a pulse.

“He’s alive,” she said, “and he’s breathing. That arm is definitely broken.”

Havoc looked up. The tree above them had a few broken branches and he could see rips from Fuery’s clothes on them. “Looks like he tried to catch himself, or at least slow his fall.”

“It probably saved his life,” she said. “that’s not a small fall.” She was running her hands over him, checking him over. “I don’t think there’s any damage, but we still need to be careful. We need to get him inside out of this rain.”

“Alright,” Havoc said. “Where to?”

“The couch. It’s the closest and I don’t want to risk stairs,” Hawkeye said.  “We need to do our best to make sure that his neck and back stay straight. The ironing board. Go get it.”

“Right,” Havoc said, and took of inside after it, returning only moments later with the stiff board in tow.

Following Hawkeye’s directions, they worked together to roll Fuery into the board and get him inside the house and to the couch. The man didn’t stir while they moved him, which was more than a little worrying to Havoc. He headed after the first aid supplies, Hawkeye telling him exactly where they were. Of all the people on the team, she had the best medical skills, and he stood ready to assist. She checked Fuery’s eyes, kept a watch on his pulse, and splinted his arm as best she could. But it was clear to Havoc that she was still worried about him.

“He needs the doctor, but we don’t need to move him.” She looked up at Havoc. “You need to go to town, get the doctor, and get the others.”

“Will you be alright?” he asked, skipping past the part where he protested leaving her alone and she reassured him that she would be alright, and he mentioned that Mustang wouldn’t like it, and she countered with Fuery’s life being on the line. They all knew where that argument would end, and there was no reason to even start it. It was better to just move on to the practical.

“I’m armed,” she said. “I have at least three guns on me at all times, you know that. You’re the fastest of us, and I have the most medical experience. Take Hayate with you as extra protection and go—we have no way of knowing if Fuery has any internal injuries.”

“Right,” Havoc said, serious. He reached to make sure he was armed, called the little dog with him, and headed off like a shot for town.

Havoc had always been the fastest on the team. His long legs helped him out a great deal, and he could take long, lopping strides. He was good at sprints, and he was good at long distance. That had, of course, changed, when Lust had stabbed him through the spine, but ever since regaining the use of his legs, he had been working on building it back again. He had gotten quite a bit better. He wasn’t sure if he could beat Hawkeye right now or not, but what he did know was that she was the best bet to be with Fuery if something went wrong.

So, Havoc ran, headless of the mud, Hayate at his side and his gun in his hand, towards town and the doctor.

He had no idea what the others had found in town, or what he had just left his teammates too.

A soldier running into town, mud all up his uniform, with a dog at his side was sure to gain a few looks, especially when he was clearly heading somewhere with a purpose, but Havoc paid the townspeople no mind. He remembered where the clinic he had seen was, and headed towards it, passing my old Mr. Nelson who tried to wave him down. He ignored him, instead heading straight for the clinic and pretty much bursting in the door. There were a man and a woman in there who looked up at him in surprise. Havoc leaned heavily on the door, soaking wet, muddy, and with an equally wet and even muddier dog by his side.

“Need… your help, Doc…” he said, gasping for breath. He really needed to lay off the cigarettes more. “Man fell… from roof. Unconscious…. The Hawkeye place…”

The doctor wasted no time in grabbing his coat and hat, taking his bag, and telling the nurse to bring the wagon after him, just in case. He was clearly taking his horse, and he wasn’t going to wait on anyone, which was fine by Havoc.

“You can ride back with me,” the nurse said. “We’ll get there quickly. The buggy is made for quick travel.”

He nodded. “Fine by me.” He was still out of breath.

“I’ll go prepare it,” she said, grabbing her own coat and bonnet and heading out the back door.

Havoc stood there, panting, and felt about ready to just sit down where he was, when a hand landed heavy on his shoulder, and he jumped. It was Mustang, which explained why Hayate didn’t make any noise, and he was looking at Havoc with concern and alarm.

“What’s happened?” he said.

“Fuery fell… off the roof, sir.” He said, still panting. “Hawkeye sent me for help.”

Mustang’s eyes widened. “His condition?”

“Unconscious. We got him inside. Arm’s busted.” Havoc said.

Before more could be said, Breda and Falman came hurrying up to them.

“What’s going on?” Breda asked, knowing that something had to have happened for Havoc to be there looking as out of breath and muddy as he was.

“Fuery fell off the roof,” Mustang said. “Hawkeye sent Havoc for help.”

Both Breda and Falman looked alarmed.

“Doc’s on his way…” Havoc said, just starting to regain his breath. “The nurse said we could ride in the wagon with her.”

“You might want to get a horse instead, sir,” Breda said. “Falman discovered something.”

“I looked through the archives that they kept at the library,” Falman explained, “and the archives at city hall. There was an outside cellar door there at one time. Right here, near where the man that the captain hired showed us the strange marks.”

“Wait—” Mustang said. “You mean there might be a way in there? And if whoever it was stole the papers from the file, that means they either want information or are trying to keep it from getting out. And—”

“And Hawkeye’s there, all alone with an injured Fuery.” Havoc finished.

Breda cursed, but Mustang didn’t even waste the time. He headed off towards the livery stable, and Breda rushed after him. Havoc moved to, but stumbled, Falman barely catching him.

“Whoa—you alright, Havoc?” he asked.

Havoc cursed. “I’ve pushed myself too far.” He shook his head. “No, go. I’ll catch up on the wagon.”

Falman shook his head. “We’ll catch up on the wagon,” he said, already hearing it coming around the corner. “And if we need to, we’ll pick up Breda and the General too.”

The nurse let them both climb aboard, as well as Hayate, and headed out of town as quickly as she dared. Breda and Mustang were only a little way in front of them having gotten horses. Breda fell back to ride alongside them for a moment, telling them that Mustang was going to go on ahead of the wagon and try to catch up with the doctor in case something was wrong. Breda was going to do his best to catch up to the General. Falman and Havoc would be the backup that came a little bit behind them. Both men nodded. They understood. Breda asked the nurse, who was still driving the buggy at astonishing speeds, if she was alright with this.

“I’m a nurse,” she snapped back at him. “My job is to save lives, and there’s a life that needs saving there—maybe more than one when this is all over. I’m going.”

Breda nodded, and then sped up, chasing after Mustang.

Although the buggy was going at a good pace, it was still a buggy and it took longer than a horse. Havoc wished he had some way to make it faster, but he didn’t. All he could do was hold on and wait. He rubbed his legs, trying to work any cramps in them out. He was determined to be at his top game, or at least as close as he could be.

When they rolled up to the house, the front door was open, prompting both he and Falman to unholster their guns. The doctor’s horse was tied to a post, but Mustang and Breda’s horses were loose in the yard. Falman jumped down out of the wagon before it came to a stop, and Havoc wasn’t far behind him. “Stay here,” he said to the nurse, “until you’re given the all clear.”

“Right,” she said, keeping a grip on the reigns.

Havoc hurried in the door, not hearing any shots, or shouts, but kept his gun at the ready. When he came inside, though, what he heard was Fuery’s voice. He made his way into the living room where he saw the doctor near a slumped shape on the floor. Mustang and the others were gathered around it, listening.

“I’m sorry, sir…” Fuery was saying. “I tried… he came in here… out of nowhere. He threw something at Hawkeye… it smelled sweet. I think it was a gas or something.” His breath hitched in pain. “She tried to fight, but it got to her… I tried… I tried to stop him… I’m sorry. I couldn’t get any further. I’m sorry!”

“Which way did they go?” Mustang asked, a growl in his voice.

“…out the back…”

Mustang wasted no more time, up and heading out the door.

Havoc followed, calling back. “Falman, tell the nurse to come in here! Stay with them!” he said. He followed right behind Mustang, who had stopped at the backdoor, looking around.

“Where did they go?” he growled out, his eyes scouring the ground.

It took Havoc a moment to realize it, but it had stopped raining, and that would, hopefully, make it easier to track them. If Hawkeye was even a little bit conscious, she would be fighting for all that she was worth. Riza was a fighter, after all.

Hayate nosed at Havoc’s knees, and Havoc got an idea. “Breda—go grab something of Hawk’s. Hurry!” he said.

Breda, who had just come out to join them turned headed straight back into the house, coming out nearly immediately with something from the washroom. Havoc took it and knelt down, holding it out to Hayate. “Hayate—track” he said. “Find her. Find Hawkeye.”

Hayate snapped to attention, sniffed the piece of clothing, and immediately turned to track. Within a second, he had her scent, it seemed. He sniffed around a little more, and then headed off in a particular direction, clearly on the trail of something.

“I hope this works,” Breda muttered.

“It will,” Havoc said, stuffing the pieces of clothing in his pocket. “She’s not been out long, and the rain would have taken care of other scents. Whatever he’s got now, it’s got to be recent.”

“Let’s move!” Mustang snapped out. His gloves were already on, and he was clearly ready to fry whoever it was that took Hawkeye.

Havoc couldn’t really blame him.

As Hayate started hurrying along, Havoc could see signs someone of coming through—and signs of a struggle. Hawkeye, as predicted, clearly wasn’t just giving in. But there wasn’t as much struggle as he expected to see, and that worried him.

It worried him more when they came across a place where they found her guns lying on the ground. Mustang cursed but bent to pick them up. “Hurry,” he said. “We don’t know how far he went or how much of a head start he has on us!”

And we don’t know Hawkeye’s condition. That was the unsaid but prominent thought in all of their heads.

They went through a patch of woods, where the signs of a struggle were easier to see. Hayate moved faster than they did through the underbrush and the bushes, but the three men forged through, trying to make their way through the woods and keep up with the little dog. He was focused in on tracking Riza down, and Havoc couldn’t blame him. He loved her just as much as they did, that was for sure.

Finally, they emerged into a clearing, and almost immediately, Havoc spotted her. She was being half-drug across a field full of grass and marshy-looking land. The man who had her was pulling harshly on her, trying to tug her through the muddy land. Hawkeye was clearly not herself, not doing any actual fighting as much as basic resisting. If she was completely with it, the man clearly wouldn’t have had any chance at all. But he must have drugged her like Fuery said, because she wasn’t fighting to the fullest extent of her ability.

He had one of her arms thrown over his shoulders, and a hand around her waist, gripping her belt. He was trying to pull her along with him, but she was stumbling and throwing them off balance. He hauled on her, trying to get her to come along with him, and she resisted, managing to half wrench free from him. He kept a hold of her arm, but finally fed up, he backhanded her across the face, hard. She dropped, limp, at the same time Mustang roared out her rank.

“Captain!”

Breda cursed beside Havoc, drawing his gun, and Havoc whipped up the rifle he had picked up in the washroom earlier. Surprisingly, Mustang didn’t do anything but tense up. The man—his hood had fallen away now—looked up at them in shock, revealing himself to be the groundskeeper that Riza had hired to look after the place. He ducked down into the grass even as Breda fired off a shot. The grass was tall, and it hid him and Hawkeye both from view.

“Why didn’t you hit him with fire?” Breda asked, all of them tense as they tried to watch for any sign of the man, Johnson, or of Riza. It was too risky to try to shoot at them without knowing if they were going to hit Hawkeye.

“I can’t,” Mustang said. “This area is swampy. There’re gasses under the surface that don’t react well to fire. The rain’s helped to bring them up. They’re in the air, and an explosion would not be a good thing.”

Havoc winced at that. No, that wouldn’t be a good thing. The ground was saturated, and everything was soaked, but an explosion was an explosion, and it wouldn’t be a good thing at all. It could just as easily hurt Hawkeye or come back and hurt them.

“What about some of that Elric-type action?” Breda asked. “Make the ground move or push the ground up or something?”

“Between the water table being too high right now and the trapped gasses, it’s too risky.” Mustang said.

Their options limited, they all fell quiet listening for any sort of clue as to where the two might be. There were small movements in the grass, and Havoc kept an eye on them, looking through the scope of the rifle to try to get a better view.

“Do I have your permission to shoot if I see something?” he asked quietly.

“Granted,” Mustang said just as quietly

They waited, and nothing happened. Just the wind blowing through the wet grasses. Finally, tired of it, Mustang called out. “Johnson! We know you’re there! Come out! Let the captain go!”

There was a little movement, and Havoc shot near it. The grass near it suddenly skittered away and then there was nothing for a few seconds, at least until Johnson suddenly popped up, Riza held tightly to him, a knife at her neck. She only looked partially aware, and all of the men tensed.

“Don’t make another move!” Johnson said. “If you do, I’ll kill her!”

Riza was just with it enough to bring her hands up to his to try to pull them away, but not able to get any strength to them. Through his scope, Havoc had a good look at her face, and he could see the terror in her eyes. He wanted nothing more than to shoot Johnson right then and there, but he wasn’t as good a shot as Hawkeye was, and he wasn’t sure he could avoid hitting her, especially if Johnson moved.

“Let her go,” Mustang said, “and surrender. If you do that, this will all go better for you.”

“No,” he said, gritting his teeth. “She’s my ticket into what I need. Or at least, her back is.”

Havoc cursed.

“So, I’m not going to let her go!” Johnson continued.

“Hey—where’s the mutt?” Breda muttered, but Havoc didn’t have time to think about where Hayate was now.

He glanced over at Mustang, who looked both horrified and incensed.

“How does he know that?” Havoc asked, unsettled by this knowledge.

“…He must have heard the story,” Mustang said. “He was in the house then! And none of us realized it.” There was anger and loathing in Mustang’s voice, but it was clear that he was not going to focus on it now. Instead, he kept his eyes fully fixed on Hawkeye and Johnson.

“If you do anything to her,” Mustang called out. “I promise, you’ll get an up-close demonstration of Flame Alchemy.” It was clearly a threat, and one that anyone with any sort of sense would be able to see Mustang was ready to act on. This was no bluff.

Johnson shook his head, already starting to back away. “No. This is what we’ve been looking for! The key! The key to it all—and you’ve had her right by your side this entire time! We knew she had to be connected somehow, considering who her father was, but we never dreamed that she was the key to the whole thing! Just imagine, you had the source of flame alchemy right next to you! And there’s more isn’t there? There’s something more to this that you’re not telling. Not that it matters. With what her back will tell us, we’ll be able to reconstruct everything fully and once we do, the full power of flame alchemy will be ours! And I’ll have brought it. I’ll have brought the key! It will be all because of me!”

The man was clearly cracked, but he was letting out some important information too. “We,” “us,” words like that, that were pluralled. He was part of some sort of group. And it appeared to be a group that was after flame alchemy. Havoc guessed they had been pursing it for a while, trying to find the key to the power and going through Riza to do it. Chances were, he wasn’t someone very high ranking. But this was going to definitely put him on the map, and he was banking on that.

Unfortunately for him, they weren’t going to let him do that. Not only was Mustang ready to take him down, but after seeing Hawkeye’s breakdown and the lengths she had gone to, to ensure that no one was ever a flame alchemist again, at least not by her father’s work, or her own hand, neither Breda nor Havoc were willing to let this happen either.

That was about the time that Havoc realized that there was movement coming up behind Johnson, and he remembered Breda’s comment asking where Hayate was. Hayate was a trained military dog, and highly loyal to Riza. This man was clearly threatening Riza. It seemed that the little dog had decided to take matters into his own hands, or paws as it was.

Or, perhaps more accurately, into his own teeth.

Johnson was still waxing on about how he was going to be praised for bring the key to flame alchemy to whatever this group was when Hayate burst out of the grass, jumping in a high leap straight for the arm that held the knife. His teeth sunk into the man’s arm, and the man screamed in pain. It loosened his grip on Riza just enough for her to manage to slip away, although she did little more than fall that they could see.

Johnson was trying to shake and beat Hayate off of him, and that was when Havoc took his shot. It wasn’t a clean one, but it did manage to get Johnson in the shoulder. He jerked back, and Hayate let go, his growls clearly heard. The three men rushed forward. Johnson, panicked and injured, took off, fleeing the scene.

All of them wanted to pursue, but Riza was their top priority now. They rushed to her location, where she was collapsed in the mud, her face half-buried in it, trying to sit up. Mustang lifted her out of it, brushing the mud away from her face, getting it out of her nose and mouth so she could breathe better, and wiping it away from her eyes. It was mostly covered by the smell of the mud, but the scent of some sort of chloroform or the like could be sensed under it.

“Riza! Riza!” Mustang was holding her now, Breda standing guard over them while Havoc canvased the area to try to make sure that Johnson wasn’t going to pop back up.

“Want us to run him down?” Havoc asked.

Mustang shook his head. “No. I don’t want to send one of you alone, and we need to get Hawkeye back to the house. We’ll have to go after him later.”

“How is she?” Breda asked.

Havoc risked a quick glance back. Her eyes were fuzzy and not focused well, but her gaze was on Mustang, and it hadn’t left. There was deep emotion in her eyes, and it looked to Havoc that a large part of it was fear. No, they couldn’t just leave her here with one of them while two went looking for this guy. He was too dangerous. They needed to make sure that she was protected, especially after everything that he had said, even though that was also a problem.

“I’m not sure,” he said. “Let’s get her back to the house, have the doctor check her over, and head into town. We’ll get the sheriff and then go after Johnson.”

“Right,” Breda said. He holstered his gun. “Here. Put her on my back and we’ll get going.”

Carefully Mustang and Breda maneuvered the half-conscious Hawkeye onto Breda’s back while Havoc kept his gun at the ready, covering them. Then, once she was settled and Breda had a good grip on her, they set out back towards the house at as quick a pace as possible. Havoc kept his gun at the ready, and Mustang his gloves, but they didn’t encounter any problems as they traveled.

As they drew closer to the house, Havoc could see a few men gathered around it, most of them armed. Not sure what they’d just come back into, Havoc stood ready with his rifle, just in case, even as Breda and Mustang tensed as well. But one of the men turned and, seeing them, waved at them calling to them.

“Mustang! Do you have Riza?” the man called.

“Thompson?” Mustang said in surprise.

“Yeah. Saw Doc riding out towards this place, and then you and your men after. Figured something was up, so I got some of the men together and we rode out here.” Thompson said.

Mustang had kept moving, so Breda and Havoc had as well, heading straight for the house. Thompson met up with them, opening the door so that Breda could carry Hawkeye inside.

“Good. We’re going to need your help,” Mustang said without preamble

“Whatever we can do,” Thompson said.

Another man directed them towards the living room. “Doc’s in there. She hurt bad?”

“Dunno,” Breda said.

“Up the stairs,” the doctor had appeared. “I’ll look her over in her bedroom.”

Breda headed up the stairs with Hawkeye, but Mustang stopped to talk to Thompson, and Havoc stayed close.

“Do you know Bennett Johnson?” Mustang asked

Thompson nodded. “Yeah. Squirrely guy. New. Doesn’t talk much.”

“He’s been stalking us in this house. He’s gotten some information that he shouldn’t have and found out some personal information about Hawkeye.”

“And that’s why he kidnapped her, got it,” Thompson said.

“We need to stop him,” Mustang said. “He indicated that he was working with someone else. We need to get to him before he can get that information out.”

Thompson was nodding. “We can get some men out to his place. But it didn’t look like you were coming from the direction of his place.”

“Where does he live?” Mustang questioned.

“The old Steadman place,” Thompson said. “It was up for sale, and he took it.”

“The Steadman place is in the opposite direction,” Mustang said. “He must have another place somewhere he uses as well.”

“I’ll send Dave Macken back to town to get the sheriff and some other men. The rest of us will accompany you and your men to see if we can’t track him down,” Thompson said. “John Stitue and Bert Oslow can stay here in case he doubles back.”

Mustang nodded. “Just be warned, we’re pretty sure he had an interest in alchemy and may already be familiar with some forms of it.”

“Gotcha. Let me tell the others.” Thompson said.

He turned to leave, and before Havoc could ask anything of Mustang—or comment on how well Mustang seemed to know the area—Mustang was already moving on to the next order of business.

“Falman!” Mustang called out.

“Sir!” Falman replied.

“Stay here. Hold the fort. Keep an eye on Fuery and Hawkeye. Breda!”

Breda was already coming down the stairs. “Yes sir!” he responded.

“You and Havoc, you’re coming with me.”

“Yes, sir!” both Havoc and Breda responded.

Havoc desperately wanted to know how Fuery was doing, and an update on Hawkeye, but there was no time for that. It was too important for them to find Johnson and stop him. Within minutes they were heading out, Thompson already having instructed the other men. He and a group were ready to head off with all of them, and Havoc welcomed the back up. Mustang took point, Hayate still with them. The little dog was clearly ready to work, and clearly angry that Hawkeye had been wounded. Breda kept giving the dog the side eye, but Hayate only seemed concerned with staying by Mustang’s side.

Mustang didn’t even stop to see who all was there. “This way,” he said, and led the way. Havoc and Breda were right behind him, and the men of the town followed. There were about fifteen all together, and they all headed off in the direction that Johnson had gone: Back across the field, through the patch of forest, and into the other field.

“I forgot how much land the Hawkeyes owned,” Thompson said.

“This is all still the captain’s land?” Breda asked.

“If you mean Riza Hawkeye, then yeah,” Thompson said. “Her family has been here for generations. They were really prominent once, owned most of the stuff around here. But over the years they declined. Most things have fell into ruin, but none of them ever sold any of their land. Looking back at it now, I have no idea why Berthold didn’t sell parts of it. It would have more than kept him and Riza fed and in good money.”

“Because he was a neglectful, abusive man,” Mustang said, “and all of us were too stupid to really realize it until we were grown.”

The men in the group fell silent for a minute, until Thompson finally responded with a “…yeah. I guess that’s true,” and Havoc had to wonder at the backstory there.

They stopped in the middle of the field, right where they had rescued Hawkeye. “He got this far before we managed to catch up with him,” Mustang said. “Any idea where he might have gone?”

The men murmured among themselves, and a few ideas were thrown out, but no one seemed to have any sort of solid ideas. Most of them were discarded fairly quickly, especially considering that a lot of the land around here still was Hawkeye property and there was no one who really knew much about it, as it had been private for years.

“This is useful,” Breda muttered.

“Whatcha gonna do, Boss?” Havoc asked.

Mustang knelt down next to Hayate. “Hayate,” he said. “Attention.”

The little dog barked and stood straight and stiff, still and ready to take a command.

“Track.” He said. “Enemy. Find.”

Hayate gave a bark and began to sniff around.

“Ya sure this is gonna work, Mustang?” one of the men said. “He doesn’t look like a tracking dog.”

“Yeah, and the ground is saturated,” another pointed out.

“Black Hayate is a highly trained and decorated military animal,” Mustang said. “Captain Hawkeye trained him herself, according to military standards, and he passed top of all time. On top of that, he’s extremely loyal, and Johnson hurt Hawkeye, his owner. He’s determined. He’ll find him, if it’s possible.”

Hayate let out a little bark, as if to prove Mustang right, and headed off through the grass. The men followed behind, trailing slowly behind the pup until he seemed to catch something stronger. Then the pup gave another bark, and took off, the men hurrying after him as fast as they could. He seemed to have something hot, at least if Havoc’s experience with tracking dogs meant anything, following it around across the rest of the field, and then through more woods until finally they came to a small clearing where a small cabin stood.

Havoc didn’t like the looks of it. It was ramshackle and didn’t look terribly sturdy, but it was definitely defensible, and that possibility was a problem. Hayate had stopped just before the clearing, and the men all crouched in the bushes there too. Thompson looked at Mustang. “Alright—you’re the military man here. What’s the plan?”

Mustang was looking at the shack. “Havoc,” he said.

“Sir?” Havoc responded.

“Get around to the side. Get in a good position to be able to take him out if he comes out and it’s needed.” Mustang said. He looked at Thompson. “You got any who could do the same from the other side?”

“Yeah,” Thompson nodded. “Ersist, Neason, Ford, Caspian—you guys surround it too.”

Four men nodded.

“You’ve all got a minute to get into place,” Mustang said.

“Yes, sir,” Havoc said, and he headed out, the other men taking off as well. Havoc found himself a good place and got settled in and made sure that he spotted the others so as not to catch them in any crossfire. Then, he waited.

Mustang and Breda stepped forward.

“Bennett Johnson!” Mustang called out. “Come out and surrender peaceably! We know that you’re in there!”

There was a beat and then—

The ground rose up and came straight at Mustang.

Havoc kept his eye on the doorway, but out of the corner of his eye he watched. Mustang didn’t even flinch, he just clapped his hands, knelt, and a wall of his own rose in return, overwhelming and stopping the ground that had just been sent out. He clapped his hands again, and the ground went down.

“You think your second-rate alchemy can stand against mine?” he said. “Don’t kid yourself. Come out before you get yourself killed.”

The door slammed open, and Johnson came out, gun at the ready. Mustang snapped, and the air in front of Johnson exploded, sending him flying back. Havoc moved, Breda moving at the same time, the other men a beat behind them. Breda slammed into Johnson, slamming him into the ground and pinning him to it. Havoc joined in, holding him to the ground. Someone shoved some rope in their faces, and they quickly worked to tie Johnson up. The man was screaming at them the whole time, demanding, insisting that they would fall, and state alchemists would fall the farthest.

“Shut up!” Breda snapped at him, handing him over to the men who pulled him out of the cabin. He looked up at the cabin then and froze. “Boss,” he said. “You wanna get in here.”

Havoc looked up and his jaw dropped. All over were reports and instances of alchemy, with a focus on flame alchemy. Pictures, reports, all sorts of information that he couldn’t begin to understand were all over the walls. All of it was related to Alchemy, that much was clear to see.

Mustang stepped in, looked around and frowned, eyes narrowing. He clearly wasn’t happy about this, and Havoc could understand why. But he didn’t say anything else, not with all of the civilians around. Thompson walked in and looked around, whistling.

“Woah. You weren’t kidding about him,” he said.

Mustang turned abruptly around, clearly blocking Thompsons’s view. Thompson, for his part, didn’t try to see around him, understanding that he wasn’t supposed to see what was there.

“I need something else from you,” Mustang said. “From someone you can trust.”

Thompson nodded. “You need someone to guard this place,” he said. “Don’t worry, I’ll take care of it. And we’ll get this guy to the sheriff too.” He put a hand on Mustang’s shoulder. “You wanna get back to Riza, I know.”

“I have lots of responsibilities,” Mustang said. “This is one of them. But if it can be guarded then we can come back and properly look through it. Especially when we’re… less muddy.”

Havoc glanced down at himself, at the mud on his boots, pants, and even shirt, and then looked at the others. They were all covered in mud.

“Right,” Thompson said, looking back up from his own muddy clothes. “That makes sense. I’ll take care of it. Seriously, Roy, go check on her.”

Mustang gave him a nod. “Breda. Can you stay?”

“I’ll secure it,” he said. “You two go on back.”

“I’ll take care of making sure Johnson gets to town,” Havoc said, knowing that it was something else Mustang would be concerned about.

He seemed a bit relieved and nodded. “Alright. When you’re both finished, report back to the house.”

“Right.”

“Got it.”

They left the shack, Havoc stepping over towards the men who had Johnson while Breda started talking to the other men about some items he needed. Havoc watched for a moment as Thompson took a second to talk to the other men, and then he and Mustang both headed back towards the house.

The rest of the men split up, and Havoc walked with the group that was heading towards town with Johnson. It was quite a long walk back from where they were, especially if they wanted to take the paths and roads and not just cut through the land itself, which would make everything more muddy and more difficult. Johnson kept trying to resist and kept talking most of the way. Eventually he stopped both, seemingly growing tired, and apparently figuring out that it would be better for him to shut up rather than to keep talking and give away more information. Havoc was grateful not to hear his crazy rantings anymore, but it was too bad that there wasn’t more intel to easily grab from the guy.

The Sherriff had made his way out to the Hawkeye place by the time Havoc and the other men got to town, but one of his deputies was in. He took official custody of Johnson, locking him in the jail and using the dusty and obviously not often used handcuffs that would keep an alchemist from doing alchemy. Satisfied, Havoc left him there, intending to head back to Hawkeye’s house. His legs were absolutely killing him by this point, though, and so he sat down on some crates for a moment to rub them.

“Hey, son, are you about to make your way back to the Hawkeye place?” a voice called out to him.

Havoc looked up to see Mr. Nelson standing there and gave him a grin. “Yeah, just taking a breather.” He looked at his legs ruefully. “Just an old injury acting up. The past few days have been hard on it.”

Mr. Nelson nodded. “I understand. Well, you’re welcome t’ ride with us. The Misses is insistin’ on takin’ some food over there and checkin’ on everyone. We’re gonna take some supplies, too. I’m sure you’re all runnin’ low.”

Havoc nodded. “I’d be much obliged, sir, to ride with you and your wife.”

“Good. Give us ‘bout ten more minutes. Come inside the store ‘nd have some coffee while you wait.” Mr. Nelson said.

Havoc got up, albeit a bit painfully now that he had sat down and followed Mr. Nelson into the store. He followed his directions back to the home behind it where Mrs. Nelson was in the kitchen, bustling around, packing up dishes. She smiled when she saw Havoc, waved him to a seat, an in a matter of moments had a cup of coffee sitting in front of him before she went back to packing up the food.

“Can I help you?” he asked her.

Mrs. Nelson waved it off. “No, no, dear, you just rest up. I saw you come runnin’ into town earlier, heard the hullabaloo that followed, saw the men running off, saw you come back. You need to rest. Just take a few minutes to rest your body, dear.”

Havoc knew a losing battle when he saw one, and so he acquiesced, watching her make her way about the kitchen. From the looks of it, he would just be in the way if he tried to help anyway. This was a woman who was a master of her kitchen, and to help her without knowledge of how she did things was to just be a hindrance.

They were ready to go within the promised ten minutes, and Havoc rode up with them while Mr. Nelson drove. He filled them in on the barest of details of what happened: How they had discovered that someone was sneaking into the home, how paperwork had gone missing, how Johnson had overheard sensitive information and personal information about Hawkeye, how Fuery had fallen off the roof, how Johnson had kidnapped Hawkeye in what they believed was an attempt to get more information, how they had rescued her and then gone after Johnson, how they had captured him and found his hideout with information in it they needed to go through, and how he helped to bring Johnson to town.

Mrs. Nelson just became more and more determined to look after everyone there as he spoke. Havoc could see it in her eyes. His own mother frequently got the same look in her eyes. Mr. Nelson’s jaw was set, clearly not happy about what had happened, and he had a few strong opinions about it.

When they pulled up to the house, it seemed to Havoc that more people were there. Havoc got down, anxious to check on everyone, but not sure at all what was happening here. Mr. and Mrs. Nelson shooed him on, saying they’d take care of what was in the wagon themselves.

Havoc made his way inside, where Mustang was talking with the Sherriff. Fuery, it seemed, was not in the living room anymore, and Hawkeye wasn’t there either. Falman wasn’t in the room, but Havoc could hear voices from out back that sounded like they were doing some sort of work. Breda was standing near Mustang and the sheriff, obviously back from securing the location. They turned to look at him. As he got closer.

“Havoc, report,” Mustang said.

“Got the prisoner back to the jail. Handed him over to one of the deputies who locked him up. He and a couple of others are going to process him, make sure he doesn’t have anything on him that’s dangerous.” Havoc said. “Mr. and Mrs. Nelson are also outside, about to bring some food and supplies in."

Mustang nodded. “Good. Breda’s got the location of the shack secure, and the sheriff has drafted some men to be guards. We’re also got guards around the house Johnson was living in.”

“Falman’s out back with some of the men, digging to see if they can find that entrance,” Breda said. “If they can, it’ll answer a lot of questions.”

Havoc nodded, and then his voice softened. “How are Hawkeye and Fuery?”

Mustang took a breath in and let it out, running a hand through his hair. “The doctor says that Fuery was lucky. It looks like he broke his arm in two places and has a concussion. It’s going to take some time to heal, but overall, he will recover. He wants to get him back to his practice, though, to give him a more thorough look over, just to be sure that there aren’t any problems with his neck and spine.”

Havoc nodded. That made sense. A fall like that could kill a man, easily. If Fuery walked away with only a broken arm and a concussion, then he was getting off easy. Havoc was, understandably, quite worried about Fuery’s back. He knew what it was not to have the use of his legs, and he didn’t want that for the young man. They were fresh out of philosopher’s stones to heal him with.

“As for Hawkeye, she’ll recover as well. She has a nasty bruise from where Johnson hit her face and swelling as well, and some other injuries from resisting. He used a powerful sedative on her, although it didn’t knock her out as much as he wanted it to. She’s going to be groggy from that for a while. She’s mostly got to sleep it off.” Mustang said, and there was a note of relief in his voice. “All in all, it looks like they’re both going to be fine.”

“That’s good to hear, sir,” Havoc said, although he knew that it didn’t touch half of what all of them were really concerned about. They had all seen how she had reacted to being in the basement. They all realized the lengths she went to, to keep her tattoo a secret. They all saw how much it had affected her to show it to them. And now a stranger had knowledge of it and had tried to kidnap her for it. That wasn’t going to put her in a good place emotionally or mentally. And, if her father had drugged her before to put on the tattoo, was this drugging in conjunction with getting the tattoos secrets going to leave her with some issues too?

Havoc wouldn’t doubt it.

“Do you mind if I got up to check on them?” he asked. “Or do you need me to do something?’

Mustang shook his head. “No, go on. It’ll be good for them.”

Havoc nodded and headed for the stairs, trying not to hobble up them. He could hear more voices up there, sounding like the doctor and the nurse, and maybe a few others too. Seeing as they seemed to be coming from Hawkeye’s room, he decided to check in on Fuery first and see how he was doing.

The young man was lying in a bed, his head and neck stabilized, and Havoc had an uncomfortable remembrance of that being done to him as well, before they knew for sure what was wrong with him. His eyes were closed, but his face was in pain, and he didn’t seem to be sleeping.

Havoc knocked lightly on the door frame. “Hey, Sarge, you awake?”

“Unfortunately,” came Fuery’s reply, and he opened his eyes to look at Havoc.

“How are you feeling?” Havoc asked him.

“Terrible, thanks,” Fuery replied. “My arm is killing me, my head is pounding, and my back hurts.”

“But you are feeling, right?” Havoc pressed.

Fuery opened his eyes again and focused on Havoc. Understanding dawned in the other man’s eyes.

“Yeah,” he said. “I feel everything. Hands, feet, arms, legs, all of it,” he said. “I definitely feel my broken arm.”

Havoc laughed “I bet you do,” he said, but he knew there was relief in his voice.

“Can you fill me in on what happened?” Fuery said, his voice going a bit soft. “No one will tell me anything—but I think that’s because most of them don’t have the information to tell me.”

“Sure thing, Sarge,” Havoc said, and he pulled up a stool alongside Fuery’s bed.

The younger man was still feeling guilty about not being able to do anything to really help Hawkeye, that much was obvious. He had risked injuring himself further by moving off of the couch to try to help her and stop the man, but he hadn’t been able to do anything about it, except point the others in the direction that she had been taken.

Havoc sat there and explained in detail what had gone down to Fuery. He was upset to hear how the man had hit Hawkeye, and the way that she had just gone down. He was, however, quite happy to hear that Hayate had gotten him, and that Havoc had shot the man in the shoulder. He was also glad to hear that Hawkeye was going to make a full recovery although he, like Havoc was clearly worried.

“And… how is she doing, sir?” Fuery asked, his voice soft.

Havoc glanced at the door, and then ran a hand through his hair. “I’ve not been in there to see her yet, but, even as strong as she is, this is going to be hard on her, I’m sure.”

Fuery frowned. “After what we found out and what she told us, I can’t help but be worried. It was like her worst fears coming true.”

Havoc nodded. “Yeah,” he said. “I can’t imagine that the drugging helped either.”

Fuery hummed. “Yeah, not when well, what she told us used to happen to her happened.”

Havoc let out a breath. “Something tells me it’ll be best to let the boss handle most of that one, but I think we’re still going to need to stand by her. We’ll need to prove to her that we’re still here too, and that we’ve got her back.”

“Yeah,” Fuery agreed. “I can’t imagine… It had to bring back some trauma.”

“You know it did,” he said. “And she’s carried it deep for a lot longer than we ever knew. Boss holds some guilt about it as well. So that’s where we’ll have to step in, to make sure they’re both not drowned in it.”

Fuery lifted up his good arm and held it out to Havoc. Havoc reached over, clasping it. “We’ll look after them both,” Fuery said. “That’s what a team is for.”

Havoc couldn’t help the determined grin that came over his face. “You know that’s true. That’s what we’re going to do.”

He stayed and chatted with Fuery for just a while longer, talking about what was coming next for Fuery. He knew that he was going to be transported back to the doctor’s office and that he was going to have other tests run on him to be sure that he wasn’t more injured than they realized. Fuery didn’t mind that so much, as he understood and really would rather be safe than sorry. But he also didn’t want to be away from everyone right now, concerned about Hawkeye and the whole situation.

Still, eventually the younger man did grow sleepy, the pain medicine that the doctor had given him trying to take over again. Fuery tried to fight it, but Havoc encouraged him not to. He needed all the rest that he could get, even if it was just his arm and head that were hurt. Fuery finally acquiesced, and Havoc left him falling asleep in that room.

Havoc made his way down the hall towards Hawkeye’s room. He didn’t hear anyone in there, now, and he knew that there was a good chance that she’d be asleep, but he needed to at least look in on her and see that she was whole with his own eyes.

He could still hear noise and talking from downstairs, although nothing sounded urgent yet. He was pretty sure he heard Mrs. Nelson’s voice sending everyone out of the kitchen and fussing about the amount of mud that they were bringing inside the house. Havoc smirked. Well, maybe she could help them clean it—or set the other men to work doing it. Even if she didn’t Havoc would make sure that it was clean for Hawkeye, even if he had to do it himself.

He stopped at her door. It wasn’t completely shut but left ajar. It was enough to be able to give her privacy, but to still allow someone to keep an ear on her, or to hear her if she cried out for anything. He knocked on her door, not too hard, but enough to be heard, and waited. Hopefully, she’d answer.

“Come in.” Her voice was groggy, exhausted, and sounded pained. Havoc didn’t like any of that, even though he expected it.

He pushed open the door, enough to look around it. “Hey, Ri. Up for a visitor?”

“No,” she said, but she beckoned him forward anyway with a slight smile on her lips.

She didn’t look good. She was a pale, except for the side of her face that was already changing colors and looked a bit swollen. There were cuts on it, near her eye, and he could only guess that it came from the hit that she took. That alone was enough to make his blood boil, but there wasn’t much that he could do about it now. He had already shot the guy in the shoulder. Part of him didn’t think it was enough, but that was personal feelings and knowing the whole story.

“How ya feeling?” he said as he came in, sitting himself down on the edge of her bed, although he did it very gingerly. He wasn’t sure how she was feeling, but he also didn’t feel like he could keep standing for long periods of time, at least not without moving.

“Pretty bad,” she said. “My face hurts a lot. I’m sore. I’m… drugged. And…” she hesitated. “…I’m… upset.”

It was clearly an understatement, and he knew it. But neither of them was going to talk about it too openly with so many people here.

“Yeah,” he said. They were quiet for a moment, and then, he stood up, went over to her door and closed it. “Riza…what happened?”

She was quiet for a moment, emotion playing over her face. It was always harder for her to keep her mask up when she was drugged or addled. It wasn’t the first time that she, or any of them, really, had been a bit compromised, but it was still hard to see.

“After you left, Fuery started coming around. I was trying to tend to what I could on him, telling him to stay still when I heard footsteps behind me. He must have spent a lot of time in this house, because he knew how to make his way past the creaky places. Fuery’s eyes widened, and that was when I knew that someone was behind me. I turned around, pulling out my gun as I did, but he threw something at me, a capsule of some kind, and it exploded. I stepped backwards, but the fumes were already on me. Whatever I was, it was fast acting, because I started to feel the effects nearly right away. And Jean,” she paused, meeting his eyes. “Things like that, they don’t affect me quickly or at normal doses. Whatever it was, it would have knocked anyone else out immediately.”

Havoc’s face tightened at that. It wasn’t a good thing, that was for sure, and he didn’t like the implications of it.

“Things are a little hard to put in the right order after that. I felt woozy and off balance. I couldn’t react well or fast. I couldn’t think. I tried to shoot at him, but he knocked the gun out of my hand. It must have landed near Fuery, I think. I heard him calling out as I tried to fight back and failed. The man grabbed me around the arms and pulled me away with him. All I remember was confusion and noise and shouting for a few moments there, and then I was being shoved outside onto the muddy ground. He picked me up, and started pulling me along with him, dragging me by the arm.”

She paused, shifting, trying to make herself more comfortable, but obviously not succeeding. She settled back down again, but she pulled her arm out from under the blankets. “I think he bruised me there too.”

Havoc reached over to her sleeve, and gently pushed it up, looking at her arm. There were traces of a forming bruise there, and he frowned. He didn’t like it, and he knew that Mustang would be furious.

“I managed to regain some of my senses when we were halfway across the field, and I stared trying to resist. He pulled on me harder, pushing me and prodding me along. I made it as hard as I could for him, but I wasn’t able to do much. At one point I ripped off the mask he was wearing and saw that it was Johnson. I think I asked him why, because he started ranting about… things.”

She looked back up at Havoc, and her eyes were scared. It made Havoc’s heart twist inside of his chest to see her look at him like that, and he couldn’t help it. He gave her hand a squeeze.

“I don’t remember all of it, not clearly. But Jean… he knew about my tattoo. He knew about flame alchemy. He said he had seen the tattoo and the burns, and that he would be praised for bringing me back. He saw me as a prize, and clearly wanted to use me to further himself. He said… he said that there were people who would be able to reconstruct the circle.”

Her voice had a shake in it, she was clearly rattled and upset by this, and Havoc found that he couldn’t blame her in the least. This was something important. Even if it wasn’t, just the emotional distress that it brought because it was important to her meant something to him.

“Yeah, he was talking something about how taking you with him was going to be a good thing for him too, when we caught up with you,” Havoc said. “But more on that later. What else happened?”

Hawkeye gave a slight shake of her head. “He just kept pulling me. I tried to go for my guns, but he stripped them off of me, threw them down. I used the woods to resist more, pulling on trees and bushes and whatever else I could to try to slow us down. By the time we got to the field, I was digging in my heels, and he must have gotten tired of it, because I remember him hitting me so hard that I think I blacked out for a moment.”

She let out a breath. “When I came to my senses again, he was pulling me up, a knife at my neck, and all of you were there.”

There was an extra fear in her eyes, and Havoc could understand it. Hawkeye had been extra protective of her neck since the Promised Day, and no one could blame her, really. Having it sliced open and bleeding out to force the man you love to sacrifice himself would be traumatic for anyone, really. Havoc was sure that she was going to be extra guarded for the next little bit.

“I remember you all appearing, and I remember being brought back here, although it’s all rather fuzzy. The doctor was already here, and I think Breda took me upstairs? But after that, I have no idea what happened.” She looked at him, anxiety in her eyes. “What happened to Johnson?”

Havoc could hear the unspoken questions in that one question. What happened to Johnson really meant did anyone else know what he knew, was anyone else listening to him, how many people knew about her tattoo now?

“I managed to shoot him in the shoulder,” Havoc said, “after Hayate surprised him into dropping you. He ran off, and we didn’t know just how dangerous he was, so we came back here. Apparently, our hasty exit from town had caused quite a stir, so there were men from the town already here, to see what was going on. We explained that Johnson had been skulking around the house, gotten his hands on some sensitive information, found out some personal information about you, and had kidnapped you, although we weren’t sure of the ultimate purpose of that.”

Hawkeye had been looking a bit nervous, but she seemed to relax a bit as his words. It seemed that the excuse they and given was good enough for her. She nodded at him to continue. Havoc did, filling her in on how she had gotten back and what was currently going on, as well as Fuery’s condition. At one point, when talking about Hayate, he heard a thump thump thump from the other side of the bed and realized that the little dog was in there, guarding his mistress. That honestly made Havoc feel better about leaving her up here alone.

He finished, and she sighed, still looking anxious about the whole deal. He couldn’t blame her, but it still pulled at his heart. Havoc reached up and gently brushed her bangs away from her face. “Hey, Ri. Listen, no matter what happens, we’re here with you, okay? We’ll do our best to make sure it’s all okay.”

“I know,” she said. “But I still can’t help but worry.” She paused. “It scares me, Jean. It scares me to my bones. It scares me so deeply that I can’t even—”

She paused and took in a shaky breath, not quite able to find the words to continue.

“I can only imagine,” he said, and he leaned over to give her a kiss on the forehead. “We’re here for you, though. We’re not going to let anything happen to you.”

Riza bit her lip but nodded. “Thank you, Havoc,” she said. ‘I really do appreciate it. I’m sure Fuery does too. You’ll keep me updated on what’s going on?” she asked him.

Havoc nodded. “Me, or someone else,” he said “But we’ll make sure to keep you two in the loop as much as we can. Fuery’s gonna be a bit harder, unless he got that phone connected. Though.”

“I heard someone on the roof earlier,” Hawkeye said. “So, you might check and see if someone else managed to get the phone working and hooked up. Someone in town has to be able to do it, after all, and maybe whoever it is came along and took care of it.”

“Yeah, or someone sent for him,” Havoc said. “After all, having a phone would be a great asset to an investigation.”

“Always is,” Hawkeye agreed.

“I’ll check on that, then,” Havoc said, and slowly stood up, wincing as he stretched out his poor, overused legs. They were killing him, and they would only get worse as the day went on. He was lucky that the rain had stopped, though. That would have made all of this unbearable, he was sure. He stretched, and then noticed a little something and reached for it.

On her dresser, that stuffed yellow rabbit was sitting. He picked it up, and then reached over to her, tucking it into bed with her. “There you go,” he said with a grin. “Between this guy and Hayate,” there went the tail thumping again, the little guy clearly paying attention to things, “you’ll be well protected.” He reached down, putting a hand on Hawkeye’s head again. “You need anything? I can bring you something if you do.”

Riza shook her head. “No,” she said. “I think that I just need to sleep this off,” she said. “It’s starting to get to me again.”

“Then rest, Riza. I’ll be back later to check on you, or someone from the team will.” He said, taking his hand back.

She gave a light hum and nodded slightly, and he left the room, leaving the door ajar, as he had found it.

Havoc ambled back over to Fuery’s room before he went downstairs, to check on him and see if he needed anything. The young man, who appeared to be sleeping, was apparently just dozing, because he asked how Hawkeye was doing. Havoc gave him a brief update, both on her physical and emotional state. Concern shone in Fuery’s eyes.

“I should have grabbed her gun and shot him,” he said, lamenting not being able to stop Johnson from taking her. “Or done something. Anything.”

“Don’t beat yourself up about it. Honestly, she’s feeling guilty because she’s afraid you could have hurt yourself worse trying to save her,” Havoc said. “You two are going to worry yourself in circles about each other. You did what you could, alright? No sense in beating yourself up over what could have been.”

Fuery gave a noise of agreement. “Yeah, I suppose.” But Havoc could see in his eyes, that he wasn’t letting go of it just yet, and he couldn’t really blame him. Havoc wouldn’t be able to immediately let go of it either.

“I’m going to check out what’s going on downstairs. You need anything before I go?”’ he asked.

Fuery tried to shake his head, and then stopped, his neck still immobilized. “No, I’m good. The doctor doesn’t want me moving around much, so I’m trying not to eat or drink a lot because I don’t want to deal with the bathroom right now,” He pulled a face, and Havoc laughed.

“Can’t blame you on that one,” he said. “Alright, I’ll check on you later.”

“Keep me updated!” Fuery said.

“Will do—oh. Not that I expect it, but before you fell did you manage to get the phone hooked up?” Havoc asked, remembering just before he walked out the door.

“I was pushed,” Fuery said, “that I remember, and no. I was almost there, but before I could finish connecting the line I had run from the inside, someone, I’m guessing Johnson, pushed me off the roof. I’m just glad it was in the direction of the tree, because I tried to catch myself on it as much as I was able to. The doctor said that probably slowed my fall and helped keep it from getting any worse.” Fuery paused. “As much as I don’t think Johnson would have cared if I had died, I also don’t think he was actively trying to kill me.”

“That actually makes sense,” Havoc said. “If you were dead, I wouldn’t have run to town for the doctor. I’m not sure what we would have done, but Hawkeye and I wouldn’t have split up. But with you injured, someone had to stay here to look after you.”

“Yeah,” Fuery said, and looked a little pale at the thought.

Havoc reached over and put a hand on the man’s shoulder. “I’m glad you’re still with us, Fuery,” he said, wholeheartedly meaning every word.

Fuery gave him a smile back. “Me too, sir.”

Havoc withdrew his hand and moved back towards the door. “Alright. I’ll come back later. Yell or something if you need anything.”

“Will do, sir.” Fuery responded.

Havoc left the room, leaving the door ajar like he had Hawkeye’s. He stood there a minute, taking a breath. He hadn’t had a breather since Fuery fell, or, rather, was pushed, off the roof this morning, and he could use a minute to himself.

It had been a crazy day and it was a lot to process. The day wasn’t even over yet. He still needed to find out what was going on outside, see about the phone, and, at some point, clean Hawkeye’s floors for her. She would not be happy to see the muddy state they were in. It was a silly thing, maybe, but it was something concreate that he felt he could do for her. There was precious little he felt like he could do for her right now anyway. Not with her secret on the line.

And what was going to be done about that? Even if he didn’t tell the townspeople, there was a good chance it would come up in investigations. He was sure that Breda and Mustang both had already thought about this. After all, Breda was their strategist, and Mustang was, well, Mustang. He was always thinking steps ahead of the game, even when he didn’t have all of the information or pieces. Honestly, the biggest screw up that Havoc could remember him taking was when he tried to see if General Raven was on their side and instead exposed their whole team to the council and Bradley, which resulted in them being split up. But to be fair, who could have anticipated that? Havoc didn’t think that anyone could have, so he didn’t really blame Mustang for that one. It was totally and entirely unexpected.

And yet Mustang had still found a way to turn it all around for them—with a little help from Havoc himself. He wished he could have seen the look on Mustang’s face when he heard his voice over the phone that day.

With a soft sight, Havoc pushed himself up from the railing that he was leaning against and turned to amble his way downstairs. There was still work to be done, obviously, and no one was getting to either Fuery or Hawkeye with this many people in the house. Not that they wouldn’t all be keeping an ear out anyway, but still. Besides, he could hear the nurse in the bathroom, clearly running water and preparing something, so they would both be looked after.

[bxttenbound-archive]

“ Let’s break this down, shall we?

Take a seat because it’s time to learn, Darling.

For one, I do not drink blood because I need life essence. Like it or not I am still humanoid, vampires are still humanoid and to have life you need our heart to function, why is that? Because our blood is important, our blood is what gives us energy, it keeps us young, it keeps us alive. Now what do you think a dead body lacks? Oh, that’s right. THE ABILITY TO MAKE BLOOD. Our own bodies don’t create blood nor can they split cells like we used to while we were alive anymore but we still need a way to stay alive and have some kind of blood in our systems.

So we drink the blood of humans because humans, surprise surprise, are the only other creature we can drink from that will sustain our human bodies. I can’t drink a dog’s blood and expect to live off of a dog’s blood cells. It’s also why vampires who feed regularly are stronger, more blood means power travels through our veins faster and more efficiently. It also is why the quality of blood is important. More than just taste if one drinks diseased blood we get ill, our bodies do not function well. Not to mention blood rejection when our body doesn’t agree with the kind of blood we drank and causes us to throw it up.

It’s why we need so much because we basically have to replace all the blood in our bodies periodically to keep us alive, you think that’s an easy task, you think we could live off one pint a week of that? I know you didn’t go to medical school but blood doesn’t last that long.

If I needed life energy I’d be eating people’s souls. Life energy doesn’t come from blood or sex, it comes from the person’s soul of which I’d be killing a lot more people if I needed their souls to survive, which I don’t.

Mentioning thrall, you rather us become slavers and use a thrall to force people to give us their blood? Yes, Killing is also taking away their choice but I would never enslave someone to get blood or force my will onto theirs in a magically binding way. If they donate to me, that’s lovely and I will spare them but I do not wish to force my will upon those who are here. If one serves me they do it of their own free will.  Also just as before, human bodies cannot withstand donating so much blood in a few weeks. A few donated pints will take weeks to replenish properly, not a simple week or two, not without potions to help speed up the process. I would know, I used to do that very often but using potions only weakens the quality of blood and thus makes us need to drink more of it in order to get the same value from or the person.

Not to mention how forcing to feed from them, forcing them to replenish their blood so often, it will lead to an early death, it will speed up how much their cells multiply and their DNA gets broken down over time causing a slow painful death or disease if the cells mutate incorrectly due to the magic enhancing their cells splitting.

Also, not every vampire can use a thrall. I for one don’t have one so that option is impossible for me.

Do I have too much fun in my meals? Perhaps, but I am not stupid with them. I kill a few people a month and save the blood I do not need to drink immediately. I take up reserves and make sure I have emergency packs in case something happens like you. Go and make fun of us all you wish but don’t go spouting bullshit around like you know anything of our kind when you are so quick to consider us nothing more than animal. I’m sure it will get you far in this world to look down upon others despite being so very, very wrong.

At least when I speak with an air of superiority it is because I come from a place of intelligence and understanding, not assumptions and hatred. “

[pitiless-achilles-wept]

2020 Can Take My Hair, But Not My Hope

My hair started falling out on election night.

I thought at first it might be the anxiety, that I was literally pulling my hair out with worry over numbers I already knew were not going to be definitive before the night wore into morning but which I stayed up until 3:30am watching anyway. I tweeted rapidly, reassuring my jittery timeline that not only had we all known that the night would bring no results but that we had even expected Trump to lead in key states because of the greater number of mail-in ballots from urban areas that would largely count for Biden. We knew. We all knew. But we were all terrified, flashing back to 2016 and already dreading another four years of living life on high alert, in constant survival mode.

I posted a selfie with a tweet that read, "Could be the last presidential election I vote in (blah blah stage 4 cancer blah blah) and I wish it were better and clearer than this but it's a crucial privilege to have voted. Remember, whatever the outcome, the last thing they can take from you is your hope."

To me that last sentence has been a mantra for these years and for my treatment. I have consistently refused, despite overwhelmingly terrible odds, to lose hope. The story of Pandora's Box tells us that the very last thing left inside was Hope--that even once all the demons were out in the world there was that tiny, feathered creature left to hang on to. It hasn't been easy, but I am one of the most stubborn people you will ever meet (and if you doubt this just ask anyone who's ever fought me on anything!) and it has turned out to be a saving grace rather than an irritating personality trait. Feeling like the world was trying to take my hope away made me angry. And when I get angry I will fight back.

I know I'm not alone in feeling like we entered some kind of alternate nightmare timeline on election night 2016. To that point, despite periods of immense personal difficulty, nothing truly terrible had happened to me. Then, in short order, my marriage ended and I was diagnosed with and began being treated for a terminal illness, all against the backdrop of a regime so deliberately hateful that it was truly incomprehensible to me. Then, a global pandemic and national crisis swept away the small consolations I'd found in my new life with cancer. The temptation to feel hopeless was strong and I struggled with it, particularly in the isolation of quarantine. I'm struggling with it now, facing a winter of further lockdowns, social isolation, continued chemo, and the added indignity (and chilliness!) of not having any hair. But somehow the coincidence of my hair loss with election night seemed like a good omen for the future, if a sad thing for the present.

I heard the news that they had called Pennsylvania for Biden at a peaceful Airbnb in the Catskills after stepping out of a shower where lost hair in handfuls. It felt oddly like a sacrifice I had made personally. I joked about this with friends on the text chains that lit up and that (despite my promise to myself and my writing partner that we'd "go off the grid") I responded to immediately. Instant replies, with emojis and GIFs, participated in the fiction: "Thank you for your service!!!"; "We ALL appreciate your sacrifice!"; "Who among us would NOT give up their hair for no more Trump?". The feeling was real for me, though. It was as though the good news demanded some kind of karmic offering. You never get something for nothing, I thought, and really it was a small price to pay.

The rest of the weekend passed too quickly, with absorption in the novel I plan (madly, given that I also work full-time) to work on for "National Novel Writing Month" (NaNoWriMo), walks in the unseasonably warm woods, and nighttime drinks on the back deck under the stars, watching my hair blow off in fine strands and drift through the sodium porch light. My friend and I read tarot and both our layouts contained The Tower, the card for new beginnings from total annihilation, the moment of destruction in which (as the novel's title says) everything is illuminated. "This might sound dumb," he said, "but maybe yours is about your hair." It did not sound dumb.

[shaved heads, the 2020 election, and a couple pics under the cut]

There is probably no more iconic visual shorthand for cancer than hair loss. It happens because chemo agents target fast-proliferating cells, which tend to inhabit things that grow rapidly by nature (hair, fingernails), or that we need to replenish often (cells in the gut), as well as out-of-control cancer cells. But not all cancer treatments, not even all chemotherapies, cause hair loss. In my 20 months of being treated for cancer and my three previous treatments (four, if you count the surgery I had) nothing had yet affected my hair beyond a bit of thinning. This despite the fact that my first-ever treatment (Taxol) was widely known to cause hair loss for "everyone." I had been fortunate with this particular side effect in a narrow way that I have absolutely not been on a broader scale. "Maybe," I had let myself think, "I can have this one thing." The odds were in my favor too; only 38% of people in clinical trials being treated with Saci lost their hair. I liked the odds of being in the 62% who didn't. But--as we all felt deep in our gut while they counted votes in battleground states--odds aren't everything.

I had come to treat the "strength" of my hair as a kind of relative consolation (though as with everything cancer "strength," "weakness," and the rhetoric of battle have nothing to do with outcomes). I treasured still having it, not just out of vanity (though I have always loved my hair whatever length, style, or color it has been) but because it allowed me to pass among regular people as one of them. I had no visible markers of the illness that is killing me, concealed as first the tumor and then the scars were by my clothing. "You look wonderful," people would tell me, even when I suffered from stress fractures from nothing more than running or sneezing; muscle spasms in my shoulder and nerve death in my fingertips; nausea that I swallowed with swigs from my water bottle that just made me look all the more like a hydration-conscious athlete; and profound, constant, and debilitating fatigue. Invisible illness had its own perils but I would take them--take all of them at once if necessary!--if only I could keep my hair and look normal.

It was not to be. A part of me had known this, since a lifetime with metastatic cancer means a lifetime of treatments a solid proportion of which result in hair loss. But I had hoped. And I had liked the odds.

The hardest thing for me is having to give up this particular consolation before knowing whether or not my new treatment is also working on my cancer. Unfortunately, there really isn't a correlation between side effects like hair loss and effectiveness of treatment. If it is working then I will feel that--like the election to which I felt I had karmically contributed--it was all completely worth it. Yet, even in this best case scenario, there's a new reality for me which is that while I am on this treatment I will stay bald. When you are a chronic patient you hope for a treatment that will work well with manageable side effects. And if this treatment works--and if the other side effects are as ok-ish as they are now--then I will remain on it.

It's that future that I am furious about more than anything else. I want to continue to live my life, of course, but I don't want to have to do it bald! In part that is because I don't want to register to people constantly as an archetypal "cancer patient" when I know that I am so much more. It is also in part because I don't want to think of myself as being ill, and living every day having to disguise my absent hair will make that all the tougher. I have already noticed that I feel, physically, as though I am sicker because of my constantly shedding hair. How could I not, in some ways, when every move I make and every glance at myself (including in endless Zoom windows) shows me this highly visible change?

For that reason, I'm shaving my remaining hair tomorrow (Wednesday). It's a way to feel less disempowered--less like hair loss is happening to me--and wrest control of the situation back. I will try to find agreeable things about it: wigs, scarves, cozy caps, bright lipstick, statement earrings, and a general punk/Mad Max vibe that is appropriate to 2020. But I don't want anyone to think for a second that I find this agreeable, or even acceptable, or that I don't mind. I mind a whole hell of a lot. My hair was my consolation prize, my camouflage, my vanity, my folly, and my battle cry.

I dyed it purple when I was first diagnosed because I knew (or thought I knew) that I would be losing it soon. I didn't, and I came to cherish it as a symbol of my boldness in the face of circumstances trying to oppress me, to make me shrink, to tempt me to become invisible. I refused and used it to "shout" all the louder in response. Because of what it came to mean to me, I'm nearly as sad about losing the purple as I am about losing the hair itself. It both symbolized the weight I was carrying and also that I would not let that weight grind me down. It was my act of resistance and my sign resilience all at once.

I sent a text to my friends, explaining this and offering, as an idea, that I could "pass the purple" to them in some way, small or large. It would feel more like handing off a torch or a weight (or the One Ring) than anyone shaving their head in solidarity. (After all, if they did that it would just remind me as I watched theirs grow back that, in fact, our positions were very different.) You're welcome to do it if you'd like too, internet friends, with temporary or permanent dye or a wig or a headband or one of those terrible 90s hairwraps or whatever. But I don't require that anyone do it because I feel support from you all in myriad ways, all the time. (But if you do, please send me pictures!)

It's November 2020. The election is over and Joe Biden has won. I still have cancer and I'll be bald tomorrow. I hope it's a turning point, both personal and global, because it feels like one. We've given up a lot in the last four years and I cannot say that I feel in any way peaceful or accepting about having to give up yet one more thing. But in losing my hair I absolutely refuse to also give up my hope.

(On our walk we did also seem to find a version of The Tower, all that was left of an abandoned house)

[noonemonitorsmyscreentime]

Ungodly

Because I, again, lost my goddamn mind I decided to write the fight from S15, ep19 from Chuck’s perspective, sort of. Like it’s from Chuck’s perspective but in the third person because that makes sense somehow. It’s like real short. And obvs fan fiction, but like commentary, maybe, idk. Anywaaay... enjoy?

“You can’t defeat GOD!” thought Chuck as he kept punching and kicking Sam and Dean. He was finally going to make them show him the respect he deserves. How dared two little insignificant humans mess with his story? They were his toys to do as he saw fit. He kept trying to fix them and yet they were constantly broken. At what point do you give up on trying to make them work? 

Chuck couldn’t believe his eyes when he saw those two Winchester bastards rising up after each blow. The constant defiance had lost its cuteness a while back. What would it take to finally beat them?

They could barely stand and had to use each other for support. Together they couldn't make for a whole man and yet, they still chose to try and be two. It really wasn't a fair fight. "Why are you smiling?”

“Because, you lose.” Sam Winchester’s bloodied face was defiant. Maybe he had punched the sense out of the younger brother. Lucifer would have been disappointed to find out that the one who finally broke Sam Winchester had been his pops. But Sam wasn't looking at him. His gaze was fixated on something behind him.

Ha!

Jack. Poor kid was going to see his adoptive dads being beaten to death before he, himself… well, not meet his maker-- before he, himself, would be silenced for good. And with the brothers gone, it would also stick.

What was that silly little child going to do? There was no angel daddy to trade his life for him, his actual daddy, the supposedly new favorite son was soundly sleeping in the empty and his two mommies were in Heaven. This kid did not have a great track record with keeping parents alive. He killed all his moms and all his dads died for him. In any case they will soon. Chuck supposed that the Winchesters could wait a while longer for the next punch. “Hey, Jack.”

He slowly closed the gap between them. The kid was just staring at him. This was too easy. How much fighting had they done and how much pain had they suffered to bring the boy back, and he was just standing in front of him, not even a weapon in hand?

The kid was a great story beat and Lucifer really threw him a curveball by becoming a father. Jack had outlived his narrative expectation to a greater extent than Chuck would have thought possible. He had to admit that his grandson was, as late story additions go, a good one in spite of his cliched beginnings. But how many kids with abusive fathers and dead mothers can you have before it all gets too tedious? He was so innocent, so pained, so tortured and so, so very and thoroughly annoying.

Chuck snapped his fingers expecting the boy to dissolve in a delightfully fine mist of pink. After all, how many times did he need to get rid of the kid to finally make it stick?

 Nothing happened. Jack was still in front of him, mirroring his look of disbelief. He'd give him that just like all the men in his life, he was hard to get rid of. Chuck snapped his fingers once more. Again. Nothing. Jack was still in front of him, but he could see that something was changing in the child. He took a step closer to god.

Snap. Nothing. Step. Snap. Nothing. Step. Snap. Nothing. Step. Snap. Nothing. Step. Snap. Nothing. Step. Snap. Nothing. No more steps left.

The boy put his hands on each side of Chuck’s face while his eyes glowed and the veins in his body became illuminated with a powerful gold light. Chuck had known this feeling before; this incredible river of power leaving him was the power needed for the Creation. But, it was at the same time different; he was not merely being drained of power, he was losing it, never to be replenished again.

It was agony. It was his hell. It was never ending.

When the last flicker of power was consumed Chuck fell to the ground trying to catch his breath. He had never felt so weak. He had never been this weak. He would always be this weak.

He heard a snap and prepared to be disintegrated. Instead he saw Sam and Dean healed.

Sam picked up his book that now lay open on the ground. “What… What did you do?”

Dean Winchester looked at him from above, his face half illuminated by the warm sun, each feature of this perfectly crafted weapon was sculpted and majestic “We won.”

“So this is how it ends. My book.”

By the time he finished his words Sam had arrived near him, book open in hand. “See for yourself” he said as he threw it in front of him.

The pages were blank. There were no words. “There’s nothing there.”

“Oh, there is, but only Death can read it.” Cold chills moved up and down Chuck's body at the younger brother's words. They hadn't known how to beat him. He knew that it was time for the victory monologue. He needed an explanation. And, boy, did the brothers deliver one

!“That’s right. So we had to come up with a plan B. That wasn’t too hard though when we realized that Michael really is a daddy’s boy. See, he didn’t take it too well when he found out that you asked Lucifer for help. Oh, he was desperate to be the favorite again.” Dean stated in a cold voice, some disdain directed to Michael. It was natural after all, one iteration took his body for a joyride of murder, mayhem and world domination and the other tricked and used Adam to bring about the end of times. 

“Since we couldn’t read the book we had to come up with a story about finding the spell, which we knew Michael would feed straight to you” Sam continued. “All that prep work we did to turn Jack into a cosmic bomb? Well, it turned him into a… a sort of power vacuum. He’s been sucking up bits of power all over the place. So, when the two heavyweights -- your boys-- showed up to duke it out, oh-hoh! That charged him right up.” Oh, if only his children had managed to work together all of this could have been so different. With Michael and Lucifer by his side Sam and Dean would have never won.

“See, we knew Michael would warn you and you’d show up here. And you did. And you killed your own son.” This was the fatal mistake, Michael should have been punished last. John Winchester had it right, kill the spirit, not the body.

“And you beat the crap out of us. Releasing all kinds of power. God power.” “Jack absorbed it all. It made him...”“Well, it made him unstoppable.” Dean finished the explanation.

Chuck can’t help but laugh. “This… This.. This is why you are my favorites.”

Sam, Dean and Jack look at each other wondering if Chuck understood anything of what he had been told or if his mind had gone alongside his powers.

“You know, for the first time I have no idea what happens next. Is this where you kill me?”

It’s easy to see on Sam’s face that it's a tempting idea and one that had been given some thought. He looks at Dean, on whose face only disgust is shown. “I mean, I could never think of an ending where I lose. But, this, after, everything that I’ve done to you… to die at the hands of Sam Winchester… of Dean Winchester, the ultimate killer...” 

Both brothers got a long look from the former god when he said their names. In turn they exchanged a glance, cold fury shone in Dean’s eyes, while Sam’s bore a much somber look of sad pensiveness. A quiet conversation was taking place. Sam would follow Dean’s lead, who now held Chuck’s fate in his hands, in what, the former Supernatural writer, felt was an ironic twist.

Chuck laughed in a last attempt to taunt the boys, to make them dance to his music “It’s kind of glorious.” He knew how to push their buttons, he’d done it for so many years. They were as close to a perfect creation as he had ever come. “Sorry, Chuck.” was Dean’s verdict, who moved right along to sentencing.

Chuck cowered in fear. Dean had no weapon in his hand, no magic gun or special knife. No stakes or arrows or even grenades. Death had to come by hand. But it didn’t. “What? What?”

“See, that’s not who I am. That’s not who we are.” They are free of him. Killing is not the only option anymore.

“What kind of an ending is this?” The last sliver of control that Chuck had over his precious Winchesters faded away.

They are his creation! They are not his favorite when they act in unexpected ways that don’t benefit him. Or his story. A little death, then straight to Heaven for some peace and quiet and relaxation. He deserved it. He only knows how much.

“His power. You sure it won’t come back?” Sam asked the kid. “It’s not his power anymore.” Jack replied truthfully. 

Sam gives a short half smile to this. What Jack said is good. “Then, I think it’s the ending where you’re just like us and like all the other humans you forgot about.”

“It’s the ending where you grow old, you get sick and you just die” despite Dean’s mercy, it was clear that it would have given him great pleasure to make Chuck feel a fragment of what the men in front of him had endured for his amusement, but he took content in knowing that Chuck’s own creation would do the job for him. The world would save Dean from killing after all the killing Dean had done for its sake. 

“And no one cares. And no one remembers you. You’re just forgotten.” The final blow delivered with steel precision right in Chuck’s, now human, heart had been made by Sam.

The trio moves towards the Impala leaving him in dust. “Guys… Guys.. wait.”

The engine revs and they drive away to the sound of Chuck’s begging “Guys… Guys! No, wait… G-guys… Guys, wait! Guys, wait! Guys, wait! Wait! Wait! Wait! Please, wait! Guys!”

Chuck falls into the dust sobbing.

He has no one. He’s all alone.

“