#i remember trying to find a full body sprite of august but there was only one on twitter

[intomybubble]

Bitch stop omfg

THE SPY FAMILY?? AUGUST?

I’m assuming these are going to be songs, and I am excited for it

[make-it-mavis]

Homesick (Entry #38)

(cw: fire, car wreck, implied death) ----------

01/29/88   1:30 AM

Hey.

Today’s entry is a big one. Significant. 

There have been a lot of these letters, or entries, or whatever you want to call them, that I’d anticipate pages in advance. I’d dread writing them and reliving the unpleasant or even horrible moments, so I’d spend days putting it off or figuring out just what to say. I’ll be honest -- I have been dreading this entry since the very first page. And I needed a few days to mentally prepare, once I arrived at it. But now that I’ve finally come to write it, I feel... calm.

Doesn’t mean my heart isn’t aching.

I spent a good amount of this unpleasant bedtime story searching for something. That something took on a few different forms, but at the root, I think they all meant the same thing.

Answers.

I wanted to know if you were still alive. Where you went. What you were thinking. If there was anything I could have done. If it was somehow my fault. If I’d failed you.

Today, I’ll tell you how I found… some of the answers. Not all. But certainly some of the ones I had been wanting most dearly. I didn’t understand them all at once. Some just spawned even more questions. And I can’t say that the truth I found didn’t wound me in its own, new way.

I think you’ll see what I mean.

So… let me tell you what I saw play out so pristinely clear in my mind, after the last explosion went off and I fell away from present reality.

August 7th, 1987 played out before my eyes.

The day your story ended.

The day this story began.

It was the day after our weird fight in your trailer, with the cut on my cheek, and the promise, and the kiss... and I couldn’t get you off my mind. Although we had said… so many things the night before, so many good, bad, and… strange things, we did not speak at all that morning. You’d left me in bed without so much as a note, and no time to find you before the arcade opened. I tried to think nothing of it. I figured you were embarrassed about last night and needed some space to think. But I still spent most of the day anxious over what I’d say the next time I saw you. I just kept coming up empty. It was pretty distracting, even as someone punched in my Easter Egg code and I was sucked into gameplay. But during said gameplay, something else caught my attention. Out in the arcade proper, past the gamer at controls, were a couple of kids playing Roadblasters. They were talking. I thought I’d misheard one of them, but then he said it again without a doubt.

“That looks like Turbo.”

That was weird, but it didn’t concern me too much at first. I was curious, but didn’t feel any reason to worry. Maybe a character in Roadblasters just happened to bear a passing resemblance to you, in the gamers’ eyes. Some Dev-made coincidence. Something like that. But as I strained to look while the gamer bounced me around, I caught a glimpse of what they were talking about.

You were there. You were in Roadblasters. 

My stomach had never dropped so hard. I could only watch as the next few seconds unfolded.

You drove back and forth across the screen. You drove into the player character, and the screen erupted into shuddering, harsh glitches. Then one of the boys called Litwak over.

He was going to unplug it with you still inside.

It all hit me, one after another, like bricks thrown at my body. I felt my heart shrivel, threatening to detach and climb up my throat. “No,” I said out loud, possessed by dread, even with the gamer watching. “No, no, NO!!”

Program be damned, I tore myself out of gameplay before my ten seconds were even up. I didn’t care. I had to get you out of there. The fact that you were in immediate mortal danger was the only thing that existed to me in that moment. Everything else was a meaningless blur. I flew out of my game at breakneck speed, through the cord tunnel, out into Game Central Station, and made a beeline for Roadblasters, but I barely even made it to the game’s cord station before two cars shot out of it and the wind of their momentum whipped me out of the air. 

Just as my head hit the floor, I heard the first resounding crash and chorus of sprites screaming.

I couldn’t think. The impact knocked the thoughts out of my head and filled it with pulsing shocks of pain. Dizzy and nauseous, I pushed myself up to my elbows and looked over at the commotion. Once my spinning, double vision focused, I saw an odd mangle of machinery. It took a second for me to understand what I saw. A big, armed Roadblasters car was smashed into the Game Central Station wall, and wedged beneath it, as if it had carried said car the entire way out of the game in order to publicly execute it, was your car. And in your car, I saw the distinctive color and shape of your helmet.

And then… BANG.

There was a second, blinding, deafening, heart-shattering explosion that shook the very floor beneath me. I threw up my hand against the light and my head lurched with the ear-splitting volume, but the moment those senses returned to me, I saw and heard what still haunts my dreams to this day. Sprites were shrieking and crying in horror. Many of them were on fire -- some being pulled away from the scene, some rolling and patting themselves, and others did not move at all. And where the two cars were before stood only a blazing inferno, shooting up a billowing tower of inky, black, deathly smoke.

No. 

No.

My blood turned to ice. For a second, I couldn’t move at all. 

Then once I started moving, I couldn’t stop.

I sprang to my feet and ran full-tilt towards the blinding fire. It wasn’t too late. I could still save you. I was the only one who would. I dodged a couple sprites trying to stop me, and I do actually recall having to jump over a burning shape that may or may not have been alive. I don’t care if that was horrible of me. I didn’t care. You mattered more to me. Saving you mattered more than anything I had ever known in this world, and nothing would stop me. Not even hellfire.

So I painted myself a Shield buff, and I leapt right into the flames.

With invulnerability, fire feels like nothing at all. But it was still so damn bright. What I managed to see was that gravity had taken hold of the larger Roadblasters car, and yours was slowly being crushed beneath it as the metal softened and warped in the heat. You were trapped. Without a second thought, I crouched beneath the burning wreckage and wedged my arm into your driver’s seat, calling out your name. I called again and again, but you didn’t answer. I couldn’t even seem to identify you by touch -- your car had all the same code as you. 

I kept calling, to no answer. I tried lifting the top car even a little bit, but it wouldn’t budge. I jammed my arm into the wreckage of your car looking for something, anything at all that could show me you were alive. Then my hand fell on soft fabric, and I nearly shouted in some sort of desperate excitement. I grabbed as much of it into my hand as I could, and I pulled. It wouldn’t budge at first, but I pulled, and I pulled, until it finally came free…

It was just your scarf and goggles.

My heart, my code, my binary, my everything… went cold.

That’s when both cars took on a blue, ghostly sheen, and their pixels started to discolor and glitch away into the air like embers.

“No,” I pleaded with nobody who could hear, “no, no, no, no!”

 I reached out, trying in vain to keep your car’s pixels together, but I felt a sensation right then that I won’t soon forget again:

Your dying code drifting through my arms and out of reach into the smog.

And that very moment was when I had overstayed my welcome. My invulnerability buff wore off, and the heat of the wreck closed in on me like the jaws of a dragon. The metal of your car scorched my hands. I began choking immediately, and I could barely open my eyes against the heat. But I couldn’t just leave. I couldn’t give up.

I couldn’t just leave you there to die.

Just then, I saw a blue flash, and I felt Surge grab onto me and try to pull me out. But I thrashed against him. Even as my clothes caught fire and the heat seared my skin, I fought him. I screamed at him, pulling against him with all my might,  “NO, NO, HE’S IN THERE! HE’S IN THERE-- HE’S DYING, HE’S DYING! LET ME GO! HE’S GONNA DIE-- LET ME SAVE HIM! MY BEST FRIEND’S IN THERE! LET ME GO!”

There was a flash of blue and a jolt of staggering pain as Surge shocked me. 

Everything was sucked away into blackness as I fell unconscious.

And… that was it.

That was it.

As I regained consciousness in real time, the time in which I had blown up my cousin’s apartment, the first thing I noticed was horrendous pain. I opened my eyes, and from where I lay in the grass outside Niceland, I could see smoke billowing out of Fix-it’s window up above. A glance down my body revealed the sources of pain -- burns, a foot twisting in an unnatural direction, and, presumably, whatever other broken bones that might have come with falling out of a window. As much as it hurt, part of me was numb to it. I was in such shock from all I remembered. 

And I remembered it all.

There was an eerie chill blowing through my pixels, like the wind before a punch. I was trembling, and my breath was coming in shallow. I just stared up at the smoke curling into the sky, with the image of your car’s flaming wreckage burned into the back of my eyes. I could hear the Nicelanders anxiously clucking nearby, and the hard clicking of bricks shifting under Wreck-it’s feet, but it all seemed so far away. So inconsequential, like a radio playing from one room over.

Similarly flat in my mind were the audible boings of Fix-it bounding over from wherever the cuss he was. He fell to his knees next to me, breathing hard, a few dark smudges on his face and a couple singes on the brim of his hat. He seemed so full of questions, but so frantic, not knowing where to begin. I’d clearly thrown him for a loop, maybe worse than I ever had before. He looked me up and down, hands repeatedly switching from touching his face to hovering over my wounds, mumbling to himself anxiously.

“Oh, Mavy-- Oh, gosh-- It’s okay, don’t move, it’s okay, just-- just relax and try to breathe, okay? You’re safe, it’s fine-- I can-- I can fix it,” he pulled out his hammer that shone audibly, looking over my burns and ankle. He just kept muttering, “I can fix it, I can fix it, I can fix it…”

I couldn’t stand it. Not for another second. The numbness encasing me snapped, and all the horrifying emotions I’d amassed exploded out of me in the form of misdirected fury.

“NO, Felix!!”

I sharply snatched the hammer right out of his hand. Touching such a densely coded item burned like hot iron, but I quickly threw it away from us and out of reach. Everyone audibly gasped, and I’d never seen my cousin so stunned. Seeing his face at all made me so angry, I wanted to tear it right off his skull. My body screamed in pain as I sat up as straight as I could, just so I could shove him hard in the shoulder. He grunted in confusion and fell back on his heels, but he didn’t get up.

“You CAN’T fix it!” I snapped, and then I shoved him again. And again. “You can’t fix it! It’s over! He’s gone already! There’s nothing you can do! You’re-- You’re useless! I’m useless! You can’t fix it and I-- I DIDN’T MAKE IT! I didn’t make it in time! I didn’t save him! I couldn’t save him! I messed up and I-- I LOST HIM! I LOST HIM!”

Then, before I even realized I’d moved, I twisted and, for the first time in my life, willingly hugged Felix. 

Not just hugged -- violently, aggressively, desperately crushed him in my arms. It hurt. It hurt a lot. His code is so heavy compared to mine. But I didn’t care. It just blurred into the tidal wave of pain already crashing down on my body and mind. He was frozen solid as I clung to him, trying to shout through my thick, choking sobs.

“He’s gone-- Oh, he’s really gone-- and I couldn’t save him! I couldn’t save him! Why couldn’t I save him?!”

Felix must have finally accepted what was happening, because he cautiously put his arms around me, and then slowly squeezed tighter and tighter.

“I know,” he said, shaking with his own tears. “I know. You tried, Mavy. You tried so hard. I’m sorry. I’m so, so sorry.”

[youarejesting]

BTS365 Prompts.Week 31

[Full Masterlist] [Prompt Masterlist] [Tag yourself here]

Beta: @juniethebug

Please tag me in your work if you use my prompts. I want to see your work. Ever your Jester. Tell me your birthday and I will tag you on your special day!

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      July 30th - August 5th

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Kim Seokjin - pants

You were walking through the shops collecting groceries for the week, the two of you buying a few extra snacks and other indulgent food. Joking and having fun down the aisles, before calling it a day and heading home. You packed the car and sang to the radio the whole way home looking at Seokjin with hearts in your eyes. 

The day couldn’t be any more perfect when you arrived at your apartment complex parking garage where you had called the elevator. After ten minutes you wondered why the elevator wasn’t coming. You saw someone exit the stairwell.

“The elevator broke again, you will have to walk.” The stranger called and Seokjin looked at you with pure horror on his face. The two of you took to the stairwell like two fresh gazelle stumbling to find their feet. The sheer amount of panting coming from each of you was laughable and you passed others heading up and down the stairwell equally exhausted.

You collapsed on your living room floor and stared at the ceiling. “Is the ice cream melted.” Seokjin didn’t move anything but his right arm grabbing out the two ice creams and handed you one soft ice cream. It was nice laying there with him. You both managed to get the frozen food in the freezer before collapsing back on the tiles and falling asleep in each other’s arms.

Min Yoongi - Milk

Sitting at the piano in the studio, you were playing a stupid song waiting for Yoongi to return from collecting the food you both ordered. You played the random melody and thought it sounded pretty good so you added to it and hummed.

“Sometimes I look in the mirror and I see myself,

I notice the way I think about you with a smile,

Curved lips I just can't disguise.

But I think it's strawberry milk making my life worthwhile.

Why is it so hard for me to decide which I love more?

Strawberry Milk or… You?”

You laughed and Yoongi stood in the doorway holding the bag of food in his hand and frowned reaching into the bag, “Answer carefully, which or would I say who you like more?”

You saw the bottle in his hand and grinned at him “Of course it is you, Yoongi.”

He was about to argue when you wrapped your hands around his waist burying your head into his chest “It’s always you.”

Jung Hoseok - drive

Hoseok was just another kid in the class, you never really crossed any paths but you could see he was hiding something behind his bright smiles. You observed him everyday trying to find out what it was, he often came to your work after school to grab a sprite and he would give you a polite simple but today he didn’t. You thought back to things he said and did and something clicked. He didn’t leave with his usual ‘see you tomorrow’. No he said ‘Goodbye’ and it wasn’t normal.

It didn’t sit well with you. You texted around and found his address and ripped off your uniform shirt and threw it at your rude boss and pulled on your jacket and ran down through the streets. You got to his apartment block and you buzzed. 

“Hoseok, I need your help, Like I really need you right now please?” You panted and the door buzzed open and you ran up the stairs tripping and grazing your knee on the sharp stair. But you didn’t slow down. You knocked on the door and he opened his eyes red you pushed passed him. Throwing open his bedroom door you broke down on his floor crying and he cried falling to his knees and you threw a punch to his chest.

“You didn’t think people wouldn’t care.” He apologized repeatedly and you pulled him to your chest and he cried against you. The two of you had fallen asleep exhausted. When you woke it was late and he looked you over. 

“Where are your parents?”

“They work late, only coming home on the weekend to tell me to study and give up on my dreams,” he sighed, rubbing his hand over his forehead, “stupid reason I know, where is your shirt?”

“Oh, I ripped off my uniform at work and ran here because I knew something was wrong.” He nodded guilty at the fact you told him you just quit your job, for him and his stupid decision.

“You did nothing wrong,” you stood up and went to his room grabbing a bag and packing it full of his clothes. You pulled off your jacket and pants and borrowed a shirt and pair of shorts from him and he was looking at the wall.

“Come on?” You took his hand and he blinked at you in confusion.

“Where are we going?” his voice was raw from his crying and you squeezed his hand.

“For a drive, I have been saving my money, let’s go,” you smiled and pulled him away from his home.

Kim Namjoon - call @knjkitten

You knew you shouldn’t have gone to the club, no matter the fight but you needed to destress and forget about everything. You were dancing, having a blast, and drinking way too much. You stepped out of the club and went to call a cab, your phone had over 124 missed calls and twenty seven voice mails. 

“Hello y/n, Namjoon is upset and worried please call him back?” Taehyung asked and you remembered why you went out.

“Y/n, Call Namjoon back?” Suga huffed into the phone and you felt the fire return to your body, you felt it clouding your judgement.

“Hey noona, It’s JK, Namjoon is asking if we have seen you, please tell him where you are, he is worried” There was a moment in the way Jungkook described your boyfriend that made the anger die down. There were more voicemails and you listened to them all slowly and you heard his voice.

“Baby, I am so sorry, okay. It was a stupid arguement and I don’t even care about it anymore, please I just want you to come home.” You listened to three voicemails of him asking you to come home and telling he loved you and was worried about you. “Please be safe, I am scared you are out alone, please come home soon.”

You opened the door to his apartment and you saw him asleep on the couch, dried tear tracks on his cheeks and a damp pillow case. “Baby,” he whispered, sitting up and pulling you onto his lap where he hugged you. “Did you go dancing?”

“Yeah I went dancing.”

“Did you have a fun time?” He asked “I am sorry we fought, I hope that you had more fun while you were out tonight and you forgot about the fight while I worked on me?”

Park Jimin - uncontrollable

It wasn’t really a question you had to ask, you would happily give your life for anyone. You were selfless and you wanted your life to have meaning and if it was to give someone a chance then that’s what you would do. It wasn’t that you didn’t value your own life and wanted to throw it away you just didn’t want someone else to suffer. 

So, here you were sitting next to them, in the broken space station aimlessly floating through space. You had one escape pod and it could fit you all and even get you back to earth safely. But the control panel was broken and the only way to send it off was to hit the command from the outside.

The longer you waited the further you floated off course. You could all easily survive for your entire life time on the station but you didn’t want them to be stuck out here so you did the only thing you could. “Pack your bags and all the supplies you can fill into the pod, I think I figured it out, I can do a delayed release, I can time the command and we can all be on board. Give me time to make the command.” 

You went to your room and grabbed your duffel bag and pretended to pack when really you made a video saying goodbye and you filled the bag with more supplies for them and a few of your mementos for them.

You get back to the pod handing your bag over and you wave the storage device in your hand. 

“I did it, is everybody ready to go home?” You asked

“Yes, we are just getting some more food.” Seokjin said and then continued filling the storage and you watched them all go in and buckle up, “How long do we have until take off?” 

“About three minutes, I planned if not I think the timer will give me thirty seconds either way enough for me to duck inside and sit.” You lied and they all got comfortable and you looked up meeting Jimin’s eyes, he was watching you. 

You avoided his eyes and looked at the screen and began typing the command hoping you could time it and survive but when you hit the button to execute the new command the doors sealed shut they all started shouting. You turned your back on them and lowered your head. “I knew you would do this?” Jimin’s voice spoke clearly from behind you, you turned tears in your eyes. He hadn’t left.

Kim Taehyung - girlfriend

It was better to be logical and not let things like emotions cloud your judgement. Emotions are dangerous and the world would be better off without them, people wouldn’t kill, hurt, cheat or steal, if there were no emotions. You didn’t smile, nor did you frown. It was a plateau that you were happy to be stuck in.

You were different and it was noticeable, they said you were socially inept and had given you a carer, many carers actually none survived a week. You battled with words and facts and were well versed in both.

Today you were getting another carer and you were no different in disposition. You watched them as they entered with the manager who took them around the house and introduced you both. “You are y/n, it is so nice to meet you,” you nodded and he grinned brighter, “my name is Taehyung.”

When the manager left you hadn’t expected him to pester you so badly, he never budged you had even tried insulting him and he was either not smart enough to understand or didn’t care. He dragged you to a cafe with comic books and he explained different series’ and saying completely dumb things making you crack a smile for the first time in many years before pulling you along again.

You were out all day and you were tired, you wanted to go home feeling a frustration towards this young man but you still followed him trying to suppress it. He took you to the movies and you scoffed at the stupid romantic comedy, that is until the male lead confessed his undying love and kissed the female lead making your heart constrict with an unfamiliar and rather disgusting emotion. He was making you feel things and you didn’t like it.

Jeon Jungkook - spot

You were a masseuse for the BigHit idols Bangtan Sonyeondan. Currently you were massaging Jungkook’s shoulders and he sighed happily falling asleep in his chair. “How do you do it?” Seokjin asked, they were discussing your super power to put them to sleep, you turned grinning.

“She probably just presses his neck so the blood stops flowing to his brain and he passes out.” 

“Everyone has a certain spot?” You smiled. “That feels nice and makes them relax.”

This was true and for Jungkook it was behind his ears.

[queenwinry]

Intimacy-Part 2

Pairing: Royai

Rating: T

Words: 3984

Part 1

Summary:  Every member of Team Mustang knows that something is unique about Roy and Riza's relationship. But how exactly did they all come to figure that out? Series of oneshots detailing the ways in which everyone realized that their superiors were a bit more than commanding officer and adjutant. 

A/N: Finally! Here is part 2! Sorry for the long wait, my life is super busy right now but I’ve been meaning to get this chapter written for forever and I finally got it all down! I know I said I would do Fuery next but this is probably my favorite of the group so I couldn’t help myself. Without further ado, here is Falman’s story!

Sweat trickled down Vato Falman’s forehead and for the first time ever, he actually wished to be back in the cold tundra of Briggs. The sun bared down on the training grounds of East City’s headquarters in waves of heat, the early August summer in full force. The veteran second lieutenant was never one to complain, but this was just intolerable.

While the spritely new recruits were certainly in a more difficult position given the harsh calls of their drill sergeants and the intense exercises they were repeatedly made to do, they at least had reasonable clothing on for the weather. Never had Falman hated the heavy blue wool of his uniform more.

With his back straight and his face working tirelessly to not reveal his discomfort, he followed after the self-absorbed general he had been assigned to accompany all day as said man sneered and stuck his nose up at the showings of the recruits. Vato had always been a fair person, unwilling to make judgement calls so readily, but General Hakuro was the kind that could force even the gentlest person to be overcome with hatred. The conversation from this morning was evidence enough of that fact.

While Hakuro had once held his iron fist over the East City branch of the military, the openings from the Promised Day coup gave him a spot in Central, which he had no problems openly bragging about. Still, he had to make regular visits to his old division, on the pretense of “checking-in” on the progress of his successor, a very frustrated new Brigadier-General Mustang.

The whole of East City headquarters had been dreading Hakuro’s return, but none more so than the Flame Alchemist. They had butted heads since Mustang had first been posted under Hakuro after Ishval, and their animosity had only grown over the past few years. The elderly general hadn’t worked with the homunculi unlike most of his colleagues (too focused on himself, Roy had always figured), so he’d been allowed to stay in the military and climb the ranks even further than he already had. Yet, he knew Mustang too well to shrug aside his involvement in the coup. While the new fuhrer had knowingly and purposely turned a blind eye to Mustang’s role, Hakuro still brought it up whenever they were anywhere near each other.

Needless to say, things had been tense lately, but everything culminated that morning when Hakuro claimed he would spend the day observing and overseeing the training of the military’s newest members. While General Mustang normally wouldn’t care about such a thing, his superior’s demands had fueled an intense verbal spar unlike anything Falman had witnessed before.

And that was saying something, given who his last commanding officer had been.

“I’m going to need a security detail if I’m going to be out in the open. I don’t fully trust you’ve secured the entirety of headquarters as well as I would have, Mustang,” Hakuro gritted out, his tone superior and his gaze firm and deadly. Falman watched from his place behind the new general as Mustang’s entire body tensed, no doubt fighting the angry expression that wanted to reveal itself.

Gritting his teeth, the brigadier-general answered. “Alright, I’ll assign you some of our best guards, sir.” The effort it must’ve taken to utter any measure of respect had to have been immense, the lieutenant figured.

As Mustang’s entire team watched warily, Hakuro’s face twisted into a satisfied smirk. “That won’t nearly be good enough. It’s not befitting of our ranks for you to take the greatest of them all and leave me your seconds. I’ll be using members of your own team as guards.”

Falman wasn’t looking directly at him to notice, but he was sure Mustang’s face paled before it reddened in rising anger. “Is that really necessary, sir? My team is under my command.” No one missed the possessiveness in his tone.

Hakuro’s face did not falter. “And you are under mine. Therefore, I have a right to everything you deem your own. Your team will spend the day with me while you go and do your job...Brigadier.” The emphasis on Mustang’s title did not go unnoticed. All five members of the illustrious ‘Team Mustang’ fidgeted uncomfortably, not liking the implications of any of this.

“And just what exactly am I supposed to do?” Mustang asked, somewhat foolishly. He was beginning to sound like a petulant child getting his toys taken away from him. While his team knew his feelings went far deeper than that, Falman also knew General Hakuro wouldn’t see it as anything else.

Letting out a scoff, his superior answered him, “Christ, Mustang, aren’t you supposed to be the big genius upstart here? I think you’ll manage to survive a day or two without all of your little lackeys around you. I only need a couple anyway.”

Falman chanced a glance at his superior and found Mustang looking like an exaggerated character from a newspaper comic. Falman half-expected to see steam pouring from his ears at any moment. Roy had always hated the liberties Hakuro took in the name of rank and the lieutenant could tell this time was no different. Still, there wasn’t a whole lot he could do, and they all (especially Hakuro) knew it.

Stabling his anger, Mustang replied. “Alright then, Havoc and Breda should do you just fine.” Falman knew by the strained tone of his voice that his commanding officer didn’t want to throw his subordinates under the bus, but he also could tell why those two had been chosen.

Hakuro wasn’t done being an all around pest, however. With a sickening smile, the general tipped his head. “And what makes you think you can choose for me? As I recall, Lieutenant Havoc was wheelchair-bound up until a few months ago and Lieutenant Breda looks like he could stand to hit up the military gym more often.”

The confidence with which Hakuro delivered his statement made Falman genuinely concerned his superior would lunge out at the man. Mustang seemed to settle for balling up his fists and gritting his teeth to hold himself back.

“No, I will be choosing my own escort. You, tall guy. Aren’t you the one who can remember anything you see?”

At having been finally addressed by the intimidating man, Falman gulped and regrettably answered with the truth, “Y-Yes sir.”

“Good, I need someone who pays attention to details. And that small one there with the glasses is your radio guy, right Mustang? He’ll do well for me behind the scenes.”

The brigadier-general was anything but pleased, yet he still nodded his head to acquiesce to his superior’s demands (or more accurately, commands). “Alright, sir, you can have them for the day, but they’d better not-,”

“Ah, not so fast, Mustang. Didn’t I say it’s not appropriate for you to get the best ones and leave me the seconds? I need one more to fill out the team and it would be incredibly rude if you denied me your most talented officer,” the older man sneered in a self-satisfied voice, his eyes finding the one member of their team perpetually right at General Mustang’s side.

This time the Flame Alchemist couldn’t help but narrow his eyes in barely held anger.

“Captain Hawkeye is clearly the most skilled and dutiful member of your little posse. I think she will serve me quite well today.”

Falman shuddered at the way Hakuro didn’t even try to hide his double meaning.

“The captain is my adjutant. She’s my personal bodyguard,” Mustang gritted out, his voice terribly strained.

“I’m well aware, Brigadier-General. But I think you can spare her for a whole day.”

“With all due respect, sir, I don’t think that would-,”

Again cutting him off, Hakuro quickly spoke, “You didn’t protest this much with the others, Mustang. Is there a reason you don’t want me to have her?”

Falman inwardly groaned, knowing the veteran general had his subordinate cornered. While the lieutenant knew Mustang would fight more readily to keep Hakuro from snatching away Hawkeye, even if temporary, he also knew how it looked for him to keep arguing. Either his commanding officer had to concede, or he had to reveal something everyone knew Hakuro had been trying to get him to reveal since Riza was first posted at Eastern Command.

And while Falman didn’t even want to guess at the nature of whatever that may be (he wasn’t one to go snooping in other people’s personal businesses), he still knew Mustang really had only one option.

Without giving any effort to hide his immense distaste, even knowing General Hakuro was eating it up, Mustang was silent for a moment before he nodded his head and simply answered, “Fine, you can have her too.”

The smile that spread across the general’s face was enough to enrage everyone present. “I thought you might see things my way.”

And so they now found themselves, himself and Hawkeye following around the insufferable man as he dished out quick rebukes and demeaning disregards to anyone he found unworthy of his standards.

Which was everyone, essentially.

Falman couldn’t help but worry, though. He chanced a quick glance at his other superior, and found her to look even worse than when he last checked. Captain Hawkeye was still recovering from what had ended up being a rather nasty stomach bug. She’d come into headquarters a few days prior looking as pale as a ghost, and had only left once her superior had given her very firm orders to take care of her health before her military duties. Falman could tell she wasn’t quite recovered, but Hakuro’s arrival meant she couldn’t possibly skip out on work another day. The lieutenant had overheard Mustang promising she would have lighter duties, and even though she had vehemently protested, he was sure none of them could have predicted this.

Falman was also sure Hawkeye hadn’t eaten anything that day. She was still nauseous from the days of repeated illness and hadn’t been able to stomach much of a breakfast. Combined with the fact that Hakuro had, of course, not included the two of them in his luxurious lunchtime feast nor had allowed them to take some time to eat and get some water, Falman was worried sick the captain was about to drop any second. She certainly looked a little worse for wear, as she followed after the general on unsteady feet.

“You don’t need to worry about me, Falman. I survived Ishval, I think I can stand one day out in the heat,” she had told him after he tried to protest earlier. While he knew she could handle herself better than most, being severely dehydrated, ill, and malnourished worked against even the strongest of soldiers.

Still, it wasn’t like he could ask the general to give her a break. Hakuro couldn’t bear to think of anyone other than himself (as evidenced by their lack of lunch/water breaks), and the lieutenant was sure he would scoff and mumble something about “Mustang’s lazy subordinates” if he ever brought it up. He settled for occasionally breaking eye contact on his charge (bodyguard faux pas number one) to check up on her.

They walked around for another hour or so as the sun continued to shine upon them, its rays suffocatingly hot. It was now late afternoon, and Falman began to wonder if he would ever feel cool again. His eyes flickered over to his captain once more, as he had been doing consistently for awhile now, before they immediately widened in concern.

Hawkeye was beginning to sway on her feet. She was drenched in sweat and her eyes were rapidly blinking, seemingly trying to clear the blurred landscape. Falman just knew her body had reached its limits, as they attempted to follow after Hakuro’s sure footsteps. The second lieutenant nearly reached out to her, before remembering where he was and what he was doing. He found himself locked in a fierce battle between wanting to help out his superior and knowing her authority meant nothing in comparison to the general, who was just looking for a way to discredit Mustang.

There was nothing he could do as Hawkeye took one more shaking step forward, paused, and let her eyes roll into the back of her head as she collapsed. Not giving a care to anything else, Falman just managed to catch her before she hit her head on the ground, her body completely crumpling.

“Captain! Captain, are you alright?” He exclaimed worriedly, as he began trying to arouse her, not liking the feeling of her racing heart and frightfully hot skin beneath his hands.

Behind him, he heard a displeased scoff, and turned in confusion to find the general looking down at them with eyes that were a mix of distaste and satisfaction. “So this is Mustang’s great bodyguard sniper, huh? How weak. Someone who spent months in Ishval passing out because it’s a bit hot outside.”

Falman had always been unsure whether he was capable of truly hating someone. He was generally a kind and forgiving man, who liked to hear all sides of everyone’s story and give people forgiveness where it was warranted.

But now, the second lieutenant could not help the angry glare that took residence on his face as he looked at his “superior” with hatred.

“Leave her be. Someone with enough disrespect to pass out on duty doesn’t deserve our attention. Let’s go, tall guy,” Hakuro said before turning around without another word.

“B-but she needs medical attention! She’s probably dehydrated.” Immediately at Falman’s rebuke, the general stilled and turned around agonizingly slowly. His eyes narrowed dangerously, challenging the second lieutenant to dare question his authority once more.

“She’s weak! Soldiers don’t pass out when they need to be doing their jobs. Maybe she’ll learn that if we leave her. Now, I’ve had enough of Mustang’s incompetence. Let’s go.”

Falman’s eyes immediately flashed back to Riza, and his heart ached. Her dehydration and recent illness combined with the intense heat meant she could be in serious danger if they did nothing. She needed medical attention right away, but this clown of a general wouldn’t allow it. Falman was really at a loss of what to do. He took a second to check the captain’s racing pulse, which Hakuro immediately noticed before he stepped forward with a menacing presence.

“Second Lieutenant, if you abandon your post to help her, I will consider it an act of direct insubordination,” General Hakuro let out in an enraged voice. Left with a decision, Falman looked from Hawkeye’s limp body to his positively incensed superior. General Hakuro was an incredibly powerful man, and his entire military career could be destroyed by this one act. But more importantly, Riza was a friend. And not only did he have a duty to help and protect her, he had a duty to Brigadier-General Mustang. And he knew exactly what his commanding officer would want him to do. “Sorry, sir,” the lieutenant let out in an uncharacteristically determined voice. “But sometimes loyalty trumps authority.” Without another thought, Falman’s arms reached for the remarkably ill captain, scooping her up and dashing her across the grounds toward the military hospital, decisively ignoring Hakuro’s shouts as he went.

---

“You’re kidding!? I can’t believe he would say something like,” the doctor taking care of Captain Hawkeye said as she continued performing her physical exam on the sleeping officer.

Falman sat on an uncomfortable chair placed right at Hawkeye’s bedside, where he had been since they’d admitted her to the military hospital. He’d just finished explaining the story of what had happened and nodded his head at the doctor’s disbelief. “Unfortunately, he’s just that kind of person. All the same, Captain Hawkeye is an important member of our team and a good mentor. I couldn’t just let her be.”

Placing her stethoscope around her neck and shaking her head, the doctor replied. “I’m sure glad you didn’t, otherwise she would have been in bad shape. Her electrolytes were completely out of whack and her temperature was scary elevated. Combination of heat stroke and severe dehydration. She’s lucky to even be alive.”

Falman nodded his head gravely at the doctor’s words, knowing that’s what she would say. He’d read plenty of medical textbooks while back in the academy and his eidetic memory allowed him to know exactly how serious of a situation this was. He still had to handle Hakuro’s wrath, but in his mind it would all be worth it.

“Honestly I can’t stand some of these military types. They think the mark of a true soldier is someone who ignores or deprives their body. In medicine we just call those people idiots.”

Letting a loose a smile for the first time that day, Falman again nodded his head in agreement. He knew his superior was in good hands. This doctor reminded him a lot of the one stationed out in Briggs, who he’d gotten the pleasure of having many enjoyable conversations with.

“Well, the good news is that she’s stabilized somewhat. Her temperature and heart rate have gone down and we’re replenishing her fluids and electrolytes. We’ll continue to monitor everything and she’ll definitely need some good rest, but I expect she’ll make a full recovery.”

Letting out a weighted breath, Falman shot the doctor a grateful look. “Thank you. You have no idea how much myself and my team appreciate everyone’s help.”

The doctor smiled and closed the notebook she had been scribbling on. “I think I can chance a guess. I’ve heard my share of rumors about your team, and I know none of you would be too happy if something happened to her.”

“No, we wouldn’t,” the second lieutenant replied in a serious tone, realizing once more the importance of all the people he’d grouped up with what felt like so long ago.

“Speaking of your team, though, I’ve been meaning to ask. Has anyone informed her CO of what happened?”

Instantly, Falman’s feel good mood deflated a touch and dread plopped like a stone in his stomach. His face twisted and he answered in a wary tone. “Yes, I think so. I sent someone to get a hold of him a little while ago. My guess is once he’s informed he’ll be knocking down the door.”

The doctor lifted an eyebrow and opened her mouth to answer when the pair heard a commotion coming from outside the room. Through the closed door they could only catch parts of someone shouting and many others attempting to keep the peace. Falman had a sinking suspicion what could be going on.

“Let me guess,” the doctor began, “That’s him.”

Falman only nodded his head.

A beat passed before the door to the room was flung open and a positively furious Brigadier-General Mustang came bursting through, out of breath, with his face as red as a tomato. “Falman!” he immediately exclaimed, shaking off the advances of the nurses telling him to keep quiet and calm down. “What the hell happened!? Is she okay?”

Before the lieutenant could even answer his superior, Mustang’s eyes went to the hospital bed. They got a glimpse of Hawkeye’s still pale and sweaty form before he widened them in shock and what Falman could only consider as true fear. He took a few quiet breaths before his countenance changed into the frighteningly deadly military officer Falman had only caught glimpses of a few times before.

“I’m going to kill Hakuro,” he spoke through gritted teeth in a deadly tone. The lieutenant had no doubt in his mind that he was being serious.

Allowing a knowing smile to cross her face, the doctor stepped forward with an outstretched hand. Mustang eyed her warily, but shook it nonetheless. “You must be the CO. I’m Dr. Walker, the one who’s been taking care of your captain. She’s had quite the past few hours but as I was telling your other subordinate here, we expect her to make a full recovery.”

Mustang’s fury was dampened somewhat with the doctor’s reassurances before he proceeded to deflate and thank her for her help. Dr. Walker explained a bit more about what had happened, the mechanism of heat stroke along with her possible dehydration and laid out what they should expect from her recovery over the next few days. The captain was still blissfully asleep through all of this, the nurses making sure she was well rested given what she’d been through.

Eventually reaching the end of her explanation, Dr. Walker once again shook the brigadier-general’s hand, waved to Falman, who also expressed his thanks, and then left them alone, wisely picking up on the need for a more intimate conversation.

As soon as the door shut behind her, Mustang leaned against his adjutant’s bed, his eyes taking on a strange look as they gazed at her sleeping form. “Goddamn that bastard. I told him he wasn’t supposed to hurt either of you. Son of a bitch can’t think of anyone outside of himself.”

Falman, in his usual analyzing way, picked up on the weariness that his superior carried himself with. There were bags under his eyes and his shoulders slumped unnaturally. Falman could tell Hakuro’s visit had wound Mustang up tight. He was sure what happened with Hawkeye only let loose the floodgates of the general’s stress.

The lieutenant kept quiet as Mustang closed his eyes and took a few steadying breaths. He opened them up and then moved around Riza’s bed, adjusting her blankets mindlessly. “Breda told me what happened,” he eventually said, his back to his subordinate.

“General Hakuro gave me a choice. My duty or the captain’s safety. It wasn’t really a hard decision.”

Mustang scoffed. “It should never be. Trust me, Falman, I don’t ever want anyone on my team to think they have to answer to someone above them before they help their teammates. That’s not what we’re about.”

“I know, sir. I’m glad you made that very clear.”

Surprising him, Mustang turned around and flashed his second lieutenant a meaningful look. Falman couldn’t help but be shocked at the sincerity of his superior’s gaze, but what was most surprising was the gratitude he also found there.

“Falman,” he began in a strangely quiet voice. “I can’t even express how thankful I am for what you did. I’ll deal with Hakuro on my own terms, but I want you to know how...grateful I am.”

Suddenly the second lieutenant couldn’t find a coherent word in his jam-packed mind to reply with. The look in Mustang’s eyes was peculiar, but not wholly unexpected. There was more than just the usual fatherly affection the general harbored for everyone on his tight-knit team. There was something else lingering in his words.

It was almost as if Falman had saved his life too, in addition to Captain Hawkeye’s.

The second lieutenant had always...known. He was far too good at “paying attention to details”, as Hakuro had called it, to not notice something. But still...to see such sincerity and gratefulness from a man known for playing his cards close to the vest was...radical, almost unbelievable.

Falman’s eyes drifted to Hawkeye’s form as Mustang turned back around, leaning against her bed like it was his lifeline and even more pieces clicked in the lieutenant’s mind.

He knew he wouldn’t have to worry about Hakuro’s fury. Mustang would take the entire brunt of it himself if he had to. He would make it a point to use what had happened as an example. They were a close group of soldiers to start, but another truth was to be known. They all had to look out for each other, but, no matter what obstacles stood in their way, Captain Hawkeye was always to be protected.

And now finally, Falman completely understood why.