#muggy. horrible. not good and in fact very bad

[justatalkingface]

I will say, now that we’re (hopefully) nearing the end of this manga, hori really can’t handle all of these characters. I’m not saying MHA would magically be the greatest thing in the world, things wouldn’t feel nearly as muggy and lame as they do right now if we just cut a lot of people. This is supposed to be the final battle, the ultimate showdown, and every three seconds we need to get a quick backstory because there are so many people in this story that they have never been given time to properly be developed. A good example to me is Shoji. He’s a super neat dude with a cool quirk who faces discrimination and was the victim of a horrible hate crime. He seems incredibly sweet and affectionate, and he seems to have some strong (badly written, but still strong) beliefs about hero society. And we get to hear about all those things……in a single chapter during the final arc before we are thrown into a different fight because we have a hamlets worth of characters and we gotta finally use them before it all ends. All of the characters in mha have a unique premise, but most have the depth of the puddle at best, and I feel you could cut a lot of people and very little would be lost. Allow the characters with the most potential to use all that time to actually develop instead of having to ration it out. Its just, ugh. Hori will get these ideas and staple them into a story without thinking if they’re actually necessary or if they’re being used properly.

Yeah. There's a bunch of layers to the character disconnection happening, a lot of which probably could have been avoided if he had an editor willing to make him cut content... but that probably requires too much time on a Jump schedule, and if he had that much time maybe it would have been better anyways.

*shrug*

Hori has been almost compulsively making and ditching characters throughout the entire story, which means there are both a lot of characters around that need to be dealt with, one way or another. Because he keeps forgetting them, or ignoring them, that means their... entire ass story is still sitting out there in the wind, and there's one last major story arc to try and patch them up.

Because he hasn't developed Shoji, and his racism arc, or that wind guy with the attitude problem who was easily strong enough to be in this last battle(s), when they drop them in for a few chapters for 'resolution', even the best effort would seem kind of empty, because it's still going from A to, like, F, all at once.

And... this isn't the best work, clearly, which make it even worse.

To some extent, the fact that it's coming to us week by week makes the whole thing hard to keep track of, when the situation is this big and spread out, and I think if you just read through it in a few sittings, the final arc would make more sense... but all the fundamental problems are not going to be solve by reading it in a better format.

Like... if I was in the position Hori was in? Lots of characters, big end arc coming, need to amp the drama? I just... wouldn't have put them all in? I think just not resolving them would go over better than a bad resolution.

Alternatively, raise the stacks eight-fold, and have SFO hit UA or something, and just kill a lot of people. Makes SFO/AFO seem like a bigger threat, get rid of the surplus characters, help motivate the characters and helps make it clear that the shit is real, now, and help make it seem like things changed after this is all over, because I bet after all of this the status quo will be god once more, even if you think a civil war bringing a country to the edge of implosion would have changed... something.

#ask #bnha critical #mha critical

[its-deputy-caleb]

It's totally okay if you wouldn't want to write this I understand, but Arthur accidentally walking in on a new to the gang, m!reader without a shirt on, seeing bandages wrapped around his chest and asking if he got shot. And they have to have the awkward 'im trans please dont shoot me' talk. Arthur obv doesn't care that reader is tans but he DOES care that he's binding with medical tape bc that cannot be comfy and all Arthur does is worry about other people-

Hiii anon! It’s perfectly okay! i love and accept everyone here so your request is most welcome! I did a request very similar to this for Arthur and you can find it here, but I still wanted to do this one only it’ll be much shorter since I didn’t want to repeat myself twice! I hope you enjoy :))

I don’t think it’s too bad but I respect everyone has different things that trigger them so a warning that the reader hasn’t had top surgery and that binding is described in this but it’s always described as ‘binding your chest’ and I don’t go into any detail bc I know that it’s triggering for a lot of people <33

———————————————

God what an awful day it was, it was swelteringly hot down in Rhodes and not only were you drenched in sweat but you got ambushed by Raiders on your way back to camp.

You’d only recently joined the Van Der Linde Gang, meeting them in Colter as you were close to death. The O’driscolls had taken you captive but you could shoot and hold your own ground (when you weren’t tied to a post, thank you horrible O’driscolls) and so you joined their gang without looking back.

That didn’t mean you hated the heat here and all you wanted to do was go to your tent and unwind for the night, alone.

Your chest felt even tighter with the muggy feeling in the air making it that much harder to breath, not to mention the tight medical tape you used to bind your chest.

Walking into your tent, you remove your shirt, wincing at the tightness and jolts of pain in your chest. You fiddle with the tape covering your chest, repositioning it higher so it wouldn’t slip down.

You knew deep down that it was just a little too tight and you’d had the tape on for just a little too long but it’d been a long and horrible day and the last thing you wanted was to feel even worse or self conscious by removing the tape. No matter how good it feels to breathe properly.

You were shuffling through your pile of clothes, looking for a fresh shirt or at least something that wasn’t covered in sweat when you heard the tent ruffle and feet moving.

Your head turned to see Arthur standing there, but he was already talking by the time you laid eyes on him.

“Saw a bunch of Raiders just outside of camp, wondered if it was you they’d run into— Jesus are yer hurt? Did a bullet clip you?”

All you heard in Arthur’s voice was genuine concern but that was nothing compared to the ringing in your ears and the panic in your chest. Of course it had to be Arthur who saw you like this, one of the few members you’d actually grown close with in the short time you knew them and you were mentally preparing for the worst.

His hand reached out to touch your side, no doubt to check over the bandage but your hand grabbed his wrist, holding him at bay.

“Don’t—“

Your voice cracked slightly, a blush forming on your face out of embarrassment. God you didn’t want Arthur to find out like this and you couldn’t stop thinking about how he might throw you out of the gang despite the fact that he was one of the most caring out of the gang. All you could think of was the worst.

Arthur slowly pulled his hand away, letting it drop to the side as he stared at your back turned towards him. He noted how the bandages weren’t stained with blood but they looked uncomfortably tight around your skin as if it had been wrapped in a hurry.

“Hey now, whatever it is you can talk to me about it.”

He kept his hands up in almost a surrender to show he wasn’t going to hurt you. He kept his voice calm and gentle as watched you almost fold into yourself. God you hated this.

“No Arthur I can’t— God I’m so stupid, I should go— just forget about it.”

You started mumbling under your breath, picking up a shirt and throwing it on before attempting to run out the front of the tent. Of course though, Arthur was blocking the exit in your small tent.

He gently placed his hand on your forearm, slowing your movements and looking into your eyes for the first time that night.

“If you want to leave you can, I won’t stop you but you can trust me…”

You stood there for a moment, contemplating your options. You knew Arthur had seen the tape one way or another and you figured explaining would be better than him asking around camp about it.

Nodding, the two of you sat on your bed roll as you began to formulate how you’d tell your dear friend Arthur. You looked at him, seeing nothing but concern and reassurance in his eyes.

You took a deep breath, closing your eyes before finally letting Arthur know the truth that you’d kept hidden for so many years of your life.

“Arthur I’m… I’m trans— that’s why the tape is there so nobody will know and I don’t want anyone to know, I— I can still pull my weight I’m no different than you or Bill or any of the other fellers. Please don’t throw me out of the gang…”

You looked away from Arthur, the silence killing you at the thought of what might have to come.

“I ain’t gonna throw yer outta the gang— don’t be ridiculous and yer more of a man than Williamson could ever imagine to be with all his drinkin’ and whining.”

Arthur gave a lighthearted chuckle, brining his hand up to rest on your shoulder with a true and genuine smile.

“You’re more of a man than most of us thieves and murderers and we’re lucky to have you in the gang, in the family. Don’t think for a second that you can’t handle yourself or that you don’t deserve a place here cause yer do.”

After that, Arthur pulled you into a tight hug one that threw out any doubts in your mind that he’d ever want to hurt you.

The two of you stay like that for a while and you let out a shaky breath as all your worries from before slowly ebb away. When Arthur pulls back, he softly pats your arms and gives you a reassuring nod.

“Now I’m no expert in these sorts of things but I can’t imagine having that tape around yer chest is comfortable or safe… if yer want you don’t have to have it on around me and I won’t go yapping to nobody about it. Of course you can keep your shirt on and I won’t look either.”

After giving a small and shy nod, you watch Arthur turn around and face the tent flaps while you undid the bandages underneath your shirt, repeating in your head that you trusted Arthur again and again.

When you were finished and comfortable the first thing you did was breathe in a full breath, letting your shoulders sag before turning to Arthur and tapping his shoulder.

He turned to you, still smiling and you loved that there was no pity, only concern in his eyes.

“I got a friend who’s a trapper up near Annesburg, maybe we could get you something made of leather so its not so tight— don’t want you getting hurt tis all.”

Your face lit up at the thought of something more comfortable, your heart softening at how concerned Arthur was.

“Like a binder?”

The look of confusion on Arthur’s face was utter joy as he had no idea what that was.

“Is that what it’s called?”

You nodded, laughing softly as Arthur tried to understand but he still gave you a reassuring and caring smile.

“Then we’ll get a binder.”

He was cut off when you threw your arms around him and gave him a hug. One that showed just how accepted and loved you felt in that moment by something so small as Arthur Morgan caring about your heath.

“Thank you…”

You whispered softly in his hold as Arthur squeezed his arms tighter around you.

Eventually you both grew tired and you fell into a light sleep against each other, still wrapped in his embrace. Of course the heat made it slightly uncomfortable as you both were sweating but none of that mattered as you felt completely and utterly accepted and safe in that very moment.

#warning: unedited af #arthur morgan #arthur morgan imagines #arthur morgan x reader #trans!reader #ftm!reader #rdr2 #rdr2 writing #rdr2 headcanons #red dead redemption 2

[thegayfromrulid]

Frkm 1 allll the way to 99. Also, the next SAO game eugeo lives as a sword and not die (thank GOD)

@2. chocolate bars or lollipops?

Chocolate bars- I will not eat lollipops. 

3. bubblegum or cotton candy?

Cotton candy! I actually get super bad headaches from bubblegum.

4. how did your elementary school teachers describe you?

Probably lonely genius...

5. do you prefer to drink soda from soda cans, soda bottles, plastic cups or glass cups?

Soda bottles!! I feel so fancy!! And old-timey.

6. pastel, boho, tomboy, preppy, goth, grunge, formal or sportswear?

I guess tomboy even though I’m a boy??

7. earbuds or headphones?

Aren’t these the same thing? I think I prefer over-ear headphones, but I don’t really like either. 

8. movies or tv shows?

Depends on the genre I guess. But as a main rule, live action- movies, animated- TV shows.

9. favorite smell in the summer?

Potato salad.

10. game you were best at in p.e.?

Frankly, I wasn’t good, but I was really good at pissing all the jocks off-

11. what you have for breakfast on an average day?

I make myself these homemade egg mcmuffins. I enjoy them a lot. I am very picky about breakfast.

12. name of your favorite playlist?

I only have one and it’s very generic: The Gay From Rulid’s Playlist. Yes it’s on Spotify. Yes, it’s 99% anime openings and endings and maybe Bet On It from HSM2. Be ashamed of me. Go on.

13. lanyard or key ring?

Lanyard! Mine is a BNHA one I bought from an artist at Nekocon!

14. favorite non-chocolate candy?

Either Sweet Tarts or Nerds. 

16. most comfortable position to sit in?

I usually have one leg tucked up under me and the other stretched out.

17. most frequently worn pair of shoes?

A black and white pair of Skechers. They look like shit. They almost never are replaced by another shoe. Not even in the gross muggy heat.

18. ideal weather?

When it’s just warm enough to wear a t-shirt and sit in the sunshine, but cool enough that I’m not hot, and a little breeze is going. I think of this weather quite often. 

19. sleeping position?

On my belly kinda spread out like a shounen protagonist.

21. obsession from childhood?

J.R.R. Tolkien. Have always been obsessed with him and his works. 

22. role model?

Redundant, but Tolkien again. Linguist and writer. Living my dream. 

23. strange habits?

I unplug things like microwaves, lamps, and TVs when I am done using them. Very little remains plugged in at my place. The modem, the fridge, and the clock. That is it.

24. favorite crystal?

Amethyst. It’s my sister’s middle name. And I especially like the purple ones.

25. first song you remember hearing?

Blue by Eiffel 65. I don’t know why that song sticks out so much in my memory but it’s nostalgic for me. Tiny AJ hyperfixated on this song before anything else ya’ll. 

26. favorite activity to do in warm weather?

Curl up in the sun on a blanket and nap. 

27. favorite activity to do in cold weather?

Hot cocoa blanket cuddles. 

28. five songs to describe you?

Uhhhh...I’m not very musically literate. Let’s go with Born This Way (the first person I came out to sent me that song so it feels special!), I’m Free to Be Me by Jamie Grace, Praying by Kesha, Shake It Off by Taylor Swift ( @delicateeuphorias​ would you believe it xD), and right now thinking about someone dear to me who’s been gone See You Again is stuck in my brain.

30. places that you find sacred?

Arboretums or big botanical gardens where I can get lost in the plants for a moment and take in how pretty they all are. And old monuments/big things people of the past built. A lot of things were built by people with no rights/freedom and I think about them and how despite the fact that they had nothing, they made such a lasting impact on our world. 

31. what outfit do you wear to kick ass and take names?

*slips on my Owari no Seraph cosplay* I will kick ass in this sweet ass cape-

33. most used phrase in your phone?

My phone seems to think it’s “Kirito’s ass” and I want it to not think that.

34. advertisements you have stuck in your head?

O-O-O-O’REILLYYYYYYYYYY’S...Autooo PARTS.

35. average time you fall asleep?

I’m an insomniac it could be 10 pm it could be 3 am who knows I sleep for an hour I’m up again...

36. what is the first meme you remember ever seeing?

Fucking CAN I HAS CHEEZBURGR cats. 

37. suitcase or duffel bag?

This all boils down to how much I’m packing. Going for a sleepover? Duffel. Going to con? My giant suitcase with room for all the bells and whistles of cosplay.

38. lemonade or tea?

Tea!

39. lemon cake or lemon meringue pie?

Oh cruel I looooove lemon. The pie!

40. weirdest thing to ever happen at your school?

In high school here- so, aside from me being the resident weirdo (I DID come to school dressed as the TARDIS), my senior class decided to squirt hundreds of bottles of chocolate syrup on the sidewalks. We were an open campus so it’s all in front of our classroom doors- we had no hallways. And then they. They fucking EGGED ALL THE DOORS. The whole campus smelled like...ick.

41. last person you texted?

My father and mother in a group text to cry about customers treating me poorly. 

42. jacket pockets or pants pockets?

I prefer the jacket pockets because I still haven’t found a way to get men’s pants under the radar of my ever-watchful parents and women’s jeans pockets are SHITTY. Women gotta boycott this shit it is UNACCEPTABLE-

44. favorite scent for soap?

Peppermint...peppermint ^-^ I like to smell like...mint.

45. which genre: sci-fi, fantasy or superhero?

Fantasy!

46. most comfortable outfit to sleep in?

Recently I was reminded I live alone and my new favorite sleeping outfit...is...just some boxer shorts. Suck it dysphoria. Manly nightwear.

47. favorite type of cheese?

Pepper jack, Swiss, or ricotta. 

48. if you were a fruit, what kind would you be?

Strawberry :3

50. what made you laugh the hardest you ever have?

I’m gonna sound so gay but when @disasterbikirito​ started laughing about a certain GIF and his laugh was so infectious I couldn’t help but laugh too. 

51. current stresses?

Are you shitting me it’s everything. Every. Single. Thing. I cannot breathe. I am having meltdowns. Someone fucking save me I cannot deal with COVID well.

52. favorite font?

Garamond for writing in my free time, Doulous SIL for all the linguistics IPA symbols my greedy heart desires. 

53. what is the current state of your hands?

Smooth but my fingertips have been gnawed on. I am stressed, okay?

54. what did you learn from your first job?

Gosh, lots of things. But the most important takeaway is that a good boss will genuinely care about you. I miss that man. He was so wonderful and so caring and taught me so much about theater. Technical things and artistic things and historical things. Sometimes I wish I could have made a career out of working under him. 

55. favorite fairy tale?

Beauty and the Beast (AH...AH...I SEE YOU ROLLING YOUR EYES BECAUSE I’M TRANS. I KNOW. I *KNOW*.)

56. favorite tradition?

It’s a family tradition kinda unique to my household. Each year, we draw a name from a hat, and that name comes with a lot of words that describe us and what we liked over that year. We then each take a $20 bill and we go to a little hobby shop with cheap things in it and use that $20 bill to fill a Christmas stocking. We then hang them back up and empty the stocking full of candies and random silly things and have a good laugh and guess who filled whose stocking. 

57. the three biggest struggles you’ve overcome?

The first one is coming to terms with knowing my dad has a severe illness. It really shook my family up, and it’s terrifying us right now with everything going on, but after a while, I learned that he was smiling, so I could smile, too.

The second one is my mother coming back from her tour in the Middle East on top of the murder of my godmother. Two very stressful things happened at once. My mother got very violent from her PTSD and her best friend died in a horrible way. It was an adjustment for everyone, and it kind of ripped my family to pieces. I can say, though, that my parents are still married and are getting better, and my sister and I are coming back to the family to be more open and healthy.

The third, and maybe some of my followers are aware, was getting rid of my ex-fiance. He was a man who sexually assaulted me repeatedly and I won’t go into details beyond that. It took me 5 years to get rid of him and accept what happened, but I am a much happier person now and while I work through the trauma that caused me, I have the most wonderful partner by my side and if you had told me back then I’d find someone as kind and patient and loving as him, I would have laughed and thought you were insane. 

59. if you were a video game character, what would your catchphrase be?

Probably what I put on all my fanfic updates: “I know. I’m an asshole.”

60. if you were a character in an anime, what kind of anime would you want it to be?

Some kind of shoujo romance but it’s bi also I want a sword.

61. favorite line you heard from a book/movie/tv show/etc.?

There was nothing more smartass than Alice Synthesis 30 in SAO 18 asking a reporter to open up his head and prove he was human I’m sorry like OOF-

63. five songs that would play in your club?

Get in losers, we’re playing Steppin’ Out by FLOW, Elle me dit by Mika, Blue by Eiffel 65, ADAMAS by LiSA, and Touch Off by UVERworld.

64. favorite website from your childhood?

I was on Webkinz more than I want to admit. 

65. any permanent scars?

Yup. I have one on my toe where I split the skin in half. I tripped. I have three surgical scars from when I had my appendix removed. And...the mystery scar. I was supposedly born with a scar it’s at the part where my foot meets my leg on my left side and you can see how it’s stretched over the years if you run your finger over it. The joke is that the doctor taking out my mom’s appendix scratched me in the womb. 

67. good luck charms?

Not really a charm but I do have a little Kirito keychain I carry everywhere I go that I fiddle with when I’m nervous.

68. worst flavor of any food or drink you’ve ever tried?

Artificial bubblegum. Disgustiiiing.

70. left or right handed?

I am right-handed.

71. least favorite pattern?

Zig-zags. 

72. worst subject?

History...I am ashamed. It’s interesting, I just suck at it.

73. favorite weird flavor combo?

Gingerbread and marshmallow. I am a bit picky about mixing foods and flavors, so this was the weirdest I could think up. 

74. at what pain level out of ten (1 through 10) do you have to be at before you take an advil or ibuprofen?

Can you hear that? It’s my hysterical laughter. 12 on a scale of 10. I get up there pretty frequently. Thank you, chronic crippling pain. 

75. when did you lose your first tooth?

I...I don’t remember...I don’t even remember...I think I had to be like what...kindergarten? 

76. what’s your favorite potato food (i.e. tater tots, baked potatoes, fries, chips, etc.)?

THIS IS CRUEL I LOVE ALL POTATOS I LOVE THEM ALL SO MUCH-Au gratin.

77. best plant to grow on a windowsill?

Aloe!

78. coffee from a gas station or sushi from a grocery store?

Coffee from a gas station. Mark my words...I will never get grocery store sushi. Ever. Again. My stomach has not forgotten. What a mistake. That was. 

79. which looks better, your school id photo or your driver’s license photo?

So, my driver’s license hasn’t had an updated photo since I was 15 and just had a learner’s so I look like I want to murder a man but my school ID I had just run about a mile in the cold because the bus wasn’t running that day and my face is red and I look like I’m crying...probably the school ID...

80. earth tones or jewel tones?

Jewel tones~~

81. fireflies or lightning bugs?

I am from the South and we call ‘em lightnin’ bugs.

82. pc or console?

Errrrr console. I’m not a gamer by any means but there’s way fewer things to press on a console controller. 

84. podcasts or talk radio?

Neither...what...no...neither...they will put me to sleep...I will be out in seconds...the most dangerous things...people talking...and then I’m out...

84. barbie or polly pocket?

Barbie, she’s a LOT easier to dress. Those rubber clothes. SMH.

86. cookies or cupcakes?

Cookies but they gotta be the soft ones.

87. your greatest fear?

Being swallowed in the ocean. By a fish or a whale. I don’t play. Church kid don’t play with big things in the ocean with big mouths.

88. your greatest wish?

To make enough of a difference in someone’s life that they learn to love themself.

89. who would you put before everyone else?

Such a selfish thought...gosh...the mere thought of prioritizing someone troubles me. 

90. luckiest mistake?

Telling a cute guy sending me dog pictures was an excellent flirting technique as he sent me pictures of his puppy. I immediately thought “oh god I’ve fucked up bad” and at present we’re kinda head over heels for one another so maybe just be stupidly blunt once and a while you might find true love. 

91. boxes or bags?

Boxes. My cat didn’t force me to say that. Not at all. Sock, buddy, off the keyboard-

92. lamps, overhead lights, sunlight or fairy lights?

Sunlight. I like the sun. The sun is my friend. It is warm and would never betray me.

93. nicknames?

Sister calls me “spoony” when she’s being ridiculous. No, I don’t know what that means. Mama calls me “cakes.” I had friends who called me “Deku” because I’m a crybaby. Had a few people DM me and straight up call me “Eugeo” or “Eug.” AJ is technically a nickname. 

94. favorite season?

Springtime!!!!! It’s...HERE!

95. favorite app on your phone?

I use like three apps...so Discord.

96. desktop background?

It’s. It’s Kirito and Eugeo. What did you expect.

97. how many phone numbers do you have memorized?

Mama’s, dad’s, mine, and my parents’ house number. And does the emergency 911 count (pahahaha). 

(I answered the others in delicateeuphoria’s ask!)

#ask #ask me anything #weird asks that say a lot #ask game #weeaboo-god

[reaperkiller]

i think the heat is so. difficult to deal with here bc of how humid it gets when it's anything over like. 15 degrees

#muggy. horrible. not good and in fact very bad

[tsaritsa]

The Possession of Isra Wright

this fic can also be found on ao3 or ff.net

NEXT CHAPTER

The rebuilding Ishvallan community is rocked by the uncovering of an exorcism gone horribly wrong, resulting in the death of a young woman at the hands of her own family. General Roy Mustang and his team suddenly find themselves embroiled at the centre of a military scandal that threatens to not only undo their three years of hard work, but also the military itself.

This story came about as I was researching into desert inhabitations, much like Ishval would’ve been before the civil war and what basically started as ponderings about the sorts of festivals they would celebrate and how Ishvalla was intertwined into their lives ended up as this.

The Possession of Isra Wright draws from my own understandings of a minority group that has suffered what is fundamentally both a literal and cultural genocide and then their forced integration into the ‘mainstream society’, rather than on the concept of possession itself. It is not my intention to try and glorify what are sometimes extremely sacred or harrowing experiences for many belief systems (or, in some cases, misunderstood mental illnesses), but rather use it as a catalyst to explore and understand other underlying issues in Amestris and Ishval. If you’ve seen the The Exorcism of Emily Rose, you’ll notice I’ve drawn a lot of my inspiration from there.

This is a story about dealing with the aftermath – but first I’ve got to introduce you to my version of Ishval. Have fun kiddies!

Warnings: language, sexual situations and violence.

CHAPTER ONE, Malkhā River Bank. Late summer, 1918.

There was hardly a breeze today – the heat was almost stifling, oppressive, but so so so dry. Drought season in Ishval was as harsh as ever.

However, Captain Riza Hawkeye noted, this was not without its benefits. Like today, for example. It was Lāeshembha today, the last day of the drought. Rain was imminent – the ahsa flowers had suddenly began to sprout, and the yālahe herons had been spotted by Sakhesā – the decimated, but altogether still holy mountain. A sandstorm was on the horizon too, Riza noted a little uneasily – a true harbinger of the desperately-needed rain, but it could be devastating to the only half-completed buildings in the Kanān district. Colonel Miles had assured her that the rest of the preparations would be completed before the proper celebrations were in full swing but she knew as soon at the goat’s horn sounded to begin the celebrations, preparations would be the last thing on anybody’s mind. She would need to talk to the General about that – too often now corners were being cut or mistakes were being made in light of new achievements and accomplishments.

However, possibly the best benefit to Lāeshembha was the fact that the General was also participating in it today – it was traditionally a manly thing to do, after all, but everyone had been invited to participate if they wanted to. It was not like he had any choice in the matter, however – everybody (jokingly) loved to point out how they could do his job much better than he could, and Lāeshembha was one of the few times the man could prove himself on the Ishvallan’s terms.

It also helped that the General was a practical man – though there were a few young men milling around the edge of the Malkhā river-turned-lake with loose shirts on, but most, including the General had opted to simply wear loose cotton pants, sans shirt. This year would most likely be their biggest yet – there were at least a thousand people, mostly men, milling around the edges of the artificial lake, each holding their own wooden net. The excitement in the air was palpable – with each successive year that Lāeshembha was held, the competition increased to catch the fish – and with it, the honour that one earned because of it.

Yes, Riza was more than comfortable perched up on the bank of the Malkhā, watching the almost-chaos below her, well-shaded from the brutal heat of the afternoon sun by the enormous ironwood’s that dotted the length of the restored river-turned-temporary-lake.

“Y’know, I would say that you’re going red because of the heat, but we’d both know I’d be lying, right?” Rebecca Catalina snarked as she sat down next to Riza on the sparse ground, handing her a bottle of water. “You have a terrible poker face when it comes to your beloved commanding officer.”

Riza accepted the bottle, and sighed deeply. “My poker face is fine, thank you very much,” she shot back. “At least I’m trying to be subtle about it-”

Rebecca elbowed her in the side. “Oi! I am totally subtle, Miss I’m-Wet-For-Sparkypants-”

“You are the worst-”

“I bet you two are gonna be all sneaky later too, finding some shady corner where you shove your hand down his-”

Riza tackled the woman down onto the ground, desperately trying to cover her mouth to no avail. Rebecca simply laughed, fighting off the attack with the experience of someone who had done this many times before.

“-and then all we’ll hear is oh Riza, yes, do it aga-”

“SHUT UP REBECCA!” Riza shrieked, scandalised, trying to stifle her own laughter as they rolled around on the bank. “I swear on the ground I stand on that I will kill you if you don’t shut-”

Rebecca threw her head back onto the ground, laughing far too much to fight back anymore. “You two are adorable,” she managed between gasps, tears sliding down her face. “And Havoc said that this trip would be boring.”

Riza frowned, flicking her harshly on the shoulder. “It’s not funny,” she hissed, glancing around to see who had noticed the commotion – barely anybody. Everyone seemed too distracted to notice the two of them, high up on the bank. The crowd at the edges of the Malkhā was the main focus – a sea of white hair dotted with blondes, reds, browns and blacks.

Rebecca sighed as she sat up, wiping her tears away. “Yeah, you’re right. It’s not funny – it’s fucking hilarious how you two inch around each other like something out of a Walter and Black book.”

“Remind me why I invited you again?”

Rebecca grinned wolfishly, pulling her dark curls into a low bun. “Because there are tons of half-naked men here and you need to be distracted or you’ll make terrible decisions tonight? Not that it’ll stop you though. So just the half-naked men, really.”

Riza rolled her eyes, taking a drink of water from the bottle that Rebecca had given her. “You are incorrigible,” she muttered, scanning the horizon with unease once more. “Are you taking the train back today or will you stay the night?”

Rebecca hummed. “I don’t know. What’s the weather looking like?”

“Not good. Clean up tomorrow is going to be a bitch. Even if you left tonight I’m not sure you’d outrun it.”

“Then I’ll stay,” Rebecca said, standing up and stretching her arms out wide. “You’re going to need all the help you can get, and technically I’m off work until next week anyway.” She winked at Riza. “Besides, there’s plenty of strapping young men that will be desperate for fresh meat tonight – if you don’t get lucky, at least you can live vicariously through me.”

Riza grinned, crossing her legs and shifting the janhe on her shoulders. Though the military uniforms were only required during work hours (and nobody was stupid enough to wear them a second longer) and even though the ones for the Ishvallan summer were made of a lighter wool blend, they were still suffocating at the best of times. Casual Ishvallan wear had become the norm for almost all the long-time serving military branch – Riza included. Heatstroke was the most common ailment in Aledia – alongside dehydration. At this point in the summer, water wasn’t enough to keep a person healthy; they also had to rely on drinks with added electrolytes and minerals. The traditional Ishvallan diet didn’t do a bad job itself – but many of the soldiers found the heat of the food too much. Contests over how much chāna they could eat without feeling ill were common – and a practice that caused both her and Roy a lot of consternation.

At least it was a friendly competition, Riza thought as she adjusted her legs, wincing a little at the sudden pins and needles spreading through her calves. By her estimates, today’s high would be at least thirty-four degrees – not the worst she had endured, but undoubtedly some people would feel the effects of the blazing sun tomorrow. Taking a quick swig of water, Riza looked out to the still waters of the Malkhā. The incoming rains would carve a new path for the river, and provide relief to the region that was starting to show signs of strain. The population of Aledia was growing every month, and with them, straining what few resources they had. At least the rain would lower the temperature for a while as well. Too many people were growing irritable with the relentless heat – Riza was a little ashamed to count herself amongst them.

Growing up in the East had taught her to deal with heat, of course, but she had grown up with humid, muggy heat. Ishvallan summers were as dry as a bone, sunburn was a constant stress and worry (and naturally, Riza was not a person to develop a tan of any sort – freckles, there were plenty, but her gaining a tan was like Edward gaining a foot in height). Roy, the lucky bastard, took to summer like a fish did to water. Of course he was a fine specimen to ogle anytime of the year (not that she’d tell Rebecca any more than the tidbits she’d let slip already – that woman was learning far too much, far too quickly from Madame Christmas) but the summer was a particularly wonderful time to do so – and there were opportunities upon opportunities to do so.

It was during this reflection on how to improve her ‘Rebecca filter’ that she caught his eyes down on the bank. Rebecca would pin it down to them being ‘star-crossed lovers’, but in reality there was often very little times where one would not be checking on the other – even more so after the events of the Promised Day. More than once that day they had been so close to losing one another – and as the saying went, hindsight truly was twenty-twenty. Riza remembered only too clearly the abject terror she felt as the nurses had pulled her away from Roy to do proper surgery on her wounds. She still had nightmares about that moment.

She knew Roy did too.

However, restoring Ishval took up more than enough head space between the two of them. Having control over an entire district of the country was wonderful, Riza was humble enough to admit that, but it came with its own set of dangers. How they ran Ishval could only be done because Führer Grumman had such trust in the General’s vision – and with it, their own culture had developed on how rules and policies were enforced.

There were many open secrets in Ishval. Military regulations fell to the side in favour of other, more unorthodox methods of dealing with rule-breakers and breaches of confidence. The Ishval unit was almost a separate faction to the Amestrian – much like how Briggs was to their icy commander. Riza suspected this was a deliberate choice – a group bound together by mutual experiences and a common goal were much easier to inspire loyalty than soldiers who were shifted around to suit numbers more than actually do any legitimate work.

It was this type of loyalty and hand-selection of troops that enabled so many…indiscretions of a personal nature to float under the radar – only when the person’s involved became ridiculously overt would they be separated and questioned duly – and never before.

The rumour mill never bothered with her and Roy. There was no need to. Rebecca had snidely called her the ‘Queen Bee’ of Ishval more than once – and it was true, to an extent. Her relationship with him was not at all professional on far too many levels to count – but they were professional when it came to their jobs. Their district wouldn’t allow it otherwise. One misstep, one conflict not attended to would tear down all they had worked hard to gain – and that was the constant fear plaguing the back of their minds.

However, on days like these, decorum from the Ishval unit went out the window – and so did the rules. This was why Riza was sitting on the top of a river-cum-lake bank, wearing a sundress and a patterned janhe and unabashedly staring at her superior officer’s abs – who, as it happened, was staring back at her, a smile blooming on his face and eyes promising that he’d catch at least one fish: or die of mortification otherwise.

“Are you finished having weird eye sex yet?” Rebecca asked, plopping herself back down, stifling a snigger. Riza glanced at her. “Have you finished being a bitch that won’t get any mekhlo at this rate?” she shot back.

Rebecca held up her hands in apology. “Yes, okay, calm down already. I think the High Cleric dude is gonna blow the magic goat horn.”

Riza threw Rebecca a disproving look, before sitting up a little straighter. The people milling by the waterside had stopped talking to one another – all were looking to the water, muscles tense, wooden nets held high. High Cleric Basir had walked out onto a rock, carrying the ceremonial goat horn that had been found buried in the rubble remains of an Ahmanhe, the traditional places of worship for Ishvalla. All that could be heard were the lapping of the water on the stones and a lone yālahe circling above, occasionally calling out in a mournful cry at being ousted from its water source temporarily.

Basir took a deep breath and then placed the horn against his mouth, and a low, solemn tone came out – and all hell broke loose on the edges of the water. A roar rose from the crowd gathered as they all began running into the water as fast as they could manage – in a matter of seconds the lake was flooded with a frantic frenzy of limbs and voices and nets and splashing water – Riza immediately lost track of where the General was in the chaos. It was a few minutes of this before the first men began to emerge victorious from the crowd in the lake, hands and mouths full of fish, some still wriggling around. It didn’t take long for Roy to emerge out of the crowd either holding up his fish-grasping hands in success.

“ARE YOU PROUD OF ME NOW CAPTAIN?” He hollered up to her, looking far too pleased with himself. “TURNS OUT I CAN FEND FOR MYSELF WHEN THE NEED ARISES!” The crowd around him laughed, looking up to where she and Rebecca were sitting, Rebecca cackling madly. “Hell of a catch, wouldn’t you say?” she said between laughs. Riza snorted, trying to ignore the curling warmth low in her gut.

“That is an awful pun, Rebecca,” she replied, a smile growing on her face as Roy made his way up the bank where they were sitting. “Go find Havoc and see if he’ll spare you a fish.”

Rebecca harrumphed at that, before standing up slowly. “General!” she called out. “Your treasured Captain is telling me you won’t have any fish for me. How could you break my heart in such a cruel way?”

“My reputation obviously precedes me,” he called back, making his way through the crowds that were beginning to emerge as more and more people came out of the lake – some successful, many not.

“Cad!” she retorted, pouting and putting her hands on her hips. “Did Havoc fare any better?”

“I think he got four, if the crowd surrounding him is any indication,” he replied, glancing back at the growing horde surrounding the young man down at the banks of the Malkhā. “You better run quickly if you want some fish from him.”

A look of determination stole across Rebecca’s face. “I’ll see you two at the party!” she yelled back, quickly jogging down to the large gathering by the now empty lake.

Roy turned back to where Riza was sitting. “Where do I put my hard-earned labours?” he asked, sitting down on the towel next to her, sending water droplets flying as he shook his head vigorously.

“I’ve got an ice box here – did you kill them already?” Riza asked, dragging the wooden box from where she had been keeping it in the shade.

“Nah, not yet. You got a knife?”

She passed him one as well as chopping board – some people liked to bash the heads against the rocks by the river’s edge but that was far too cruel in her opinion. Worse were the ones already skewering them, ready for the waiting campfires at the town square. Roy made quick work of gutting and filleting the fish.

“Where’re the dogs? I was going to give them the guts.”

“It’s too hot for them out here – you know that as well as I do – and Eliza was giving me that look that you give me when you’re going to stir shit up. She takes after you a worrying amount.”

“So she should,” he replied primly, placing the filleted fish into the ice box and making a small alcove in the corner of the ice for the guts to keep. “She’s a wonderful dog who perfectly emulates what it means to be a Mustang-”

“Meaning she sleeps all over the furniture and constantly eats food she knows isn’t for her?” Riza interrupted, taking the ice box from him and began to wrap it back up in cloth. “You indulge her.”

“She is a wonderful and loyal friend and I will not let you insult her-”

“She is a dog, Roy, I’m sure she won’t kill her to have a bit more training than ‘piss here please, if you will’-”

“General.”

Their bickering stopped as Samir stood before them, in his customary robes and ceremonial sash. The man was still as intimidating as ever, even with the faded scar, Riza thought, before standing alongside Roy to greet the man properly.

“Samir! I didn’t see you in the group – you didn’t participate this year?” Roy asked, offering his hand. They shook hands, briefly, before Samir replied.

“Unfortunately not. I was given the task of watching over the mekhlo barrels this year – not an entirely terrible job to be given during Lāeshembha. I suppose you were successful once more?” He asked, humour in his tone.

“Naturally,” Roy replied, a proud smirk growing on his face. “Not as good as Havoc or Karir – but I just need to catch at least one fish so you all don’t lose hope in me.”

Samir snorted. “Best not let others know you were being easy on them. They may wish to challenge you properly next year.” He turned to Riza. “Colonel Miles instructed me to tell you that the preparations in the Kanān district have been done. The storm tonight will not ruin the progress we have made this week.”

Riza smiled warmly. “Thank you, Samir. Will you and Colonel Miles be joining us at the Ahmanhe tonight for the dinner?”

Samir nodded. “As soon as we shift the mekhlo to the cellars we will join you. Hopefully the young ones will give up this year in their quest to get drunk.”

She laughed, as did Roy. “Unlikely,” he replied, “but there’s hope yet. We better go now, anyway,” he continued, nodding to Samir. “There are two dogs at home that are going to be very disappointed if we don’t bring them the fruits of my labour.”

Samir laughed. “They’re more demanding than most of the ammonla around here.”

“You’re probably right there,” Roy replied. “But I imagine that the ishmonla will be acting far worse tonight.”

Samir nodded sagely. “I hope not to count you two amongst them,” he said. “I will let you go now. Ishvalla dhāmo.”

“Ishvalla dhāmo,” they replied in unison, watching as the hordes of people crowded around him, all jabbering away in various fluencies and cadences of Ishvallan.

Lāeshembha – fishing festival that occurs at the end of the drought season

Ahsa – a vine-like plant that grows in the cracks of buildings and the ground. The white flowers begin to blossom when the humidity reaches a certain level in the summer.

Yālahe – species of heron that migrate to the south to breed.

Sakhesā – a small mountain that is sacred to Ishvallan’s. It is said to be the place that Ishvalla once stood.

Kanān – a prophet of Ishvalla, born approx. 1240.

Malkhā – the main river that runs from the mountain ranges that separate modern-day Ishval from Amestris.

Janhe – a traditional shawl for Ishvallan women, which covers the shoulders and upper arms. Comes in a variety of fabrics and patterns, typically made of cotton.

Mekhlo – a type of fermented alcohol, made with the bark of the nekhlo tree, spices and the aloe vera plant. Prepared in the height of summer, it is both delicious before and after fermentation.

Aledia – name of the village being rebuilt in the Ishvallan district. Comes from the Ishvallan word aledhā, meaning moon.

Chāna – traditional Ishvallan stew, made with goat and root vegetables. Typically a spicy dish.

Ahmanhe – place of worship for Ishvalla.

Ammonla – informal way to talk about a child or children.

Ishmonla – informal way to talk about an adult or adults.

Ishvalla dhāmo – (trans. Ishvalla guides [you]) a formal way to say goodbye.

#fma fanfiction #royai #roy mustang #riza hawkeye #rebecca catalina #scar #fullmetal alchemist