#Tim Marcoh

[randombook4idk]

[jelzorz]

I mean

[roseillith]

[gamergirlcrustacean]

“you better not be cunty Dr Marcoh when i get there”

me:

[labyrinth-guardian]

Just spent the last couple of hours skimming through FMAB to get as many screenshots of Dr. Marcoh post-face explody as Possible <3 I WANT TO DRAW HIM SO BAD BUT ITS SO HARD

Tumblr's 30 image limit barely scratches the surface of how many screenshots of Marcoh ive collected, along with other characters like the Chimeras and Kimblee Literally the amount of references I could find of Marcoh have been little to none especially for anything post-ep30 I also have a large collection of screenshots of Marcoh in the manga so anyone who wants to me post a sequel, i can

[kiwikipedia]

I’ve been thinking about the Tolls that Truth takes from Alchemists. We know that what is taken is often a form of irony, as seen with Ed, Al, Izumi, and Roy, but what would’ve happened with the other Alchemists?

Marcoh and Kimblee could’ve been human sacrifices instead of Roy, easily. If Marcoh hadn’t been taken by Scar and if Kimblee hadn’t been killed by Pride, there’s a bit of hinting that one of them would’ve been the fifth instead of Roy.

So what would they have lost?

Right off the bat my thoughts were “oh that’s easy, Marcoh would lose his hands and Kimblee his hearing”

Marcoh because he is a doctor first and foremost rather than an Alchemist now. He recognizes that his hands are the tools he used to both destroy by creating the Philosopher’s stone in Ishval, and heal by way of being a doctor. In the future, Marcoh also wants to atone for his sins in Ishval by helping with the restoration effort with his own hands.

So like Roy, Truth taking away his hands is both an act of remembrance for the past as they never once forgot what they had done and seen, and punishment for the future as Roy would not be able to see the nation’s future and Marcoh wouldn’t be able to heal with his hands (disregarding automail yk).

I think this suits Marcoh and perhaps it crosses over with Ed a bit but it makes sense because of the reasoning behind it.

Then we get to Kimblee.

Hearing is, frankly, the most obvious choice for him. We’ve seen time and time again that he thoroughly enjoys the sound of explosions, be it those he makes (seen often both in the Ishval scenes and when he was fighting Al and Heinkel) and those he simply hears (Lab 5’s destruction). And also the screams of terror from people caught up in the blasts.

For someone who doesn’t have the deep seated guilt that the others in Ishval had nor the same drive as people like Mustang for the future, the next best thing for Truth to take barring Kimblee’s alchemy would be something that he finds joy in. But then that brought me to the next problem:

It felt too shallow, in a way. Or rather, too easy to default to hearing.

So I looked at it from another angle.

Kimblee himself isn’t like any of the other characters who have clear goals for the future: getting their bodies back, rebuilding Ishval, changing the nation, becoming Emperor, etc. Even some of those who are “evil” have an almost clear-cut wish for the future (well, Greed isn’t evil but you get my drift, most of the Homunculi want what Father wants and I guess that makes it’s clear cut or whatever. I digress)

But despite that Kimblee DOES want something, aside from just killing and destruction. So with that in mind, I think that another option for Kimblee’s toll would be his sight. Just like Mustang.

Except, it’s for a different reason. Kimblee could care less about seeing the Country change for the better, or worse, in the same way Roy does.

At the core of Kimblee’s character, he’s an observer, an outside entity who is not on either side of this war in truth— he’s just working with the Homunculi because they allow him to be as destructive as he wants. But he’s an observer nonetheless, he even admits it stating that he “want[s] to see what the new world will look like” when he and Ed were talking in Briggs.

And while this can be taken as a more broad sense of “see” rather than the literal “with your own eyes” see, the same could be said for Mustang. To “see the future” and to “observe” ultimately tie back to sight, no matter how one looks at it.

So what better thing to take from the one who states he wishes to Observe the way the World turns than the sense he would need to do so?

TL;DR

Had Marcoh or Kimblee been the final sacrifice instead of Mustang, Marcoh would’ve lost his hands that had both harmed and healed while Kimblee could lose either his hearing or his sight

[labyrinth-guard]

Back at it again at crispy cream

Better Quality since ik tumblr will crush it

[silly-ehggy]

I love sad old men 💕 (spamton, asgore, dr. Marcoh, hohenheim)

[ofoceansandtombsanew]

Why you should read volume 15 of FMA if you haven’t read the manga

Even if you’re not much into manga, I definitely recommend reading at least the volume 15 chapters of Fullmetal Alchemist chapters 58 through 61 if you’ve watched Brotherhood. In the anime, there’s only one episode that covers the Ishbalan genocide and in the manga it takes up an entire volume

Not only do you get Roy’s, Riza’s and some of Marcoh’s perspective but in the manga you get:

Scar and his brother’s perspective and a closer look at Ishbal

Some of Hughes’ own perspective of the war

Armstrong’s perspective and every single thing that led to his eventual emotional breakdown and his own meeting with Kimblee

The perspective of Winry’s parents and their decision to stay in Ishbal and earning the trust of their patients

Dr. Knox’s perspective (you will also get the reason for his divorce if you decide to read chapter 57, but due to his PTSD and nightmares, he mistook his wife for an enemy soldier when she tried waking him up from one and he almost killed her)

An in-depth look at the treatment of Ishbalans who were in the Amestrian military during the time of the war as well as the ordinary soldiers who watched in horror and awe at the abilities of the state alchemists

More insight into Hawkeye’s role in the war and the glaring fact that she wasn’t even a graduate from the academy when she was shipped off to the battlefield but because of her high grades and the need for soldiers, they sent her to fight in it

Corruption from soldiers in positions of leadership even if they weren’t in on Father’s plan

The absolute badassery of Basque Grande killing a corrupt official and assuming leadership

Why Roy earned the nickname Hero of Ishbal

And if you’re Royai trash, Roy calling Riza by her first name

While the Ishbal episode in Brotherhood is good, it barely even scratches the surface of everything that took place in Ishbal and I highly recommend reading even just these 4 chapters 

[watertribe-enya]

Greetings @sweet-suzume, I was your gifter for this years @fmagiftexchange! I did a picture for your fanfiction Misdirection on ao3, I hope you’ll like it.

Once again, Marcoh didn't waste his companion's time with unnecessary comments or questions, but the gentle sketching motion of Scar's hand drew his eyes away from the book (which really wasn't that interesting anyway).  Scar wasn't drawing anything in the train compartment around him, but rather an image that came straight from his mind- something he remembered, or something he was creating now Marcoh couldn't say.  Stylized letters from the Ishvalan alphabet combined with flowery whirls and patterns.  Marcoh didn't know the words or the meaning of the designs, but still it moved him.

The sudden rush of emotion made him feel suddenly self-conscious and embarrassed that Scar might catch him staring.  He put an extra effort into keeping his eyes down and focused on his book.

Miles mumbled something unintelligible in his sleep.

"Is it because you like it, or does it bring back bad memories?" Scar asked.

Marcoh's battered face colored as it was revealed to him that Scar was all too aware of his snooping.  "I, uh," he stumbled over his answer, "It's beautiful.  …But perhaps the other idea is right as well.  And then there's…I wouldn't have taken you for an artist."

"Lately I've been remembering that I am- or at least I once was- lots of things."

"You're talented."

I wish you Happy Holidays and a happy New Year as well!

[iukasylvie]

It'd be hilarious if stuff such as Marcoh's note on the production of the Philosopher's Stone, the discovery that took Hughes' life, and most of all, Scar's real name as an Ishvalan were all censored by a [[Hyperlink Blocked]]

[roseillith]

[the-lonely-tree-original]

FMA Prompts #3

Breaking Bad AU? Not really... but... 

I’ve never watched breaking bad, but I think it’ll share some elements (very few though). This one is a bit darker than my other prompts (as it has the potential for the boys to be more morally grey). Anyways, instead of joining the state military, Ed and Al flee to Central’s red light district to gather information on the philosopher’s stone more covertly. They make a living by creating and selling drugs with their knowledge of alchemy. On the side, they trade their goods for secrets. Eventually, a a customer’s trip goes bad (bad enough to warrant investigation) and Mustang is sent to find the dealers. (I also kinda played with the idea of him being undercover, but I honestly think a compelling story could be written with him showing up in his military blues as well). The colonel finds out just how young and talented these ‘chemists’ are and decides that maybe instead of an arrest, he should offer a rehabilitation instead. He sends them off to work on medicinal cures with Dr Marcoh.  Only, it’s a bit harder to leave a life of drug dealing behind than that, especially since the good doctor has seemingly gone missing and now the brothers have the colonel breathing down their back - for much more than dealing drugs this time.

Taken from the prompt:  “You’re the best Alchemist I know, and you’re lowering yourself to a common drug dealer.” that came out circa 2020 - I’ve since lost the specifics of its origins.

[kumeko]

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

…

…

…

…

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

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

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

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

A demon.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Nezuko nodded, her expression guileless.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“We can all eat together,” May continued.

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

“No,” Scar answered simply. “You?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Not bad,” he muttered.

She beamed. “I knew you’d like it.”

That wasn’t what he said.

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

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

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

“Further east?” Marcoh asked, interested.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Scar ran forward. “I’ll—”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Died?

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Scar just barely restrained himself. “What?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

She had protected May.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

[enderthefrog]

media about dungeons and hunger save me

i think they would be friends.

(i know termina doesn’t take place in a dungeon don’t kill me

[labyrinth-guard]

Finally have some drawings of Dr.Marcoh im happy enough with to post