#⸾ ❖︎ ⸾ ( HAYATE / you held my hand and didn’t let go... so now i can’t stop thinking about it. ) ⤹ •• 𝕥𝕒𝕘.

[unladielike]

she is being a needy pest.

( yet another picrew edit i made of vivian and @spiritpyro’s hayate... because jason has yet to tell me i’m annoying for constantly posting about them. )

[aquietwritingcorner]

Embers of Revelation

Author: RealityBreakGirl/aquietlearningcorner Word Count: 1585 Rating: T Prompt: FMA Big Bang 2021 Warnings: Child abuse/neglect Characters: Riza Hawkeye, Roy Mustang, Jean Havoc, Heymans Breda, Vato Falman, Kain Fuery, Black Hayate Pairing: Royai Genre: Hurt/Comfort, Angst, Family Chapter: Epilogue of 7 Summary: Tasked by Fuhrer Grumman to investigate a suspected alchemic incident, General Mustang’s team finds themselves stranded in Hawkeye’s hometown. Needing a place to stay, they find themselves taking shelter in her childhood home. However, her past can’t stay buried there, and as revelations come to light, they also bring embers of danger with them. Sequel to Embers in a Wounded Heart AO3 || ff.net

_______________________________

 Epilogue

Riza looked out the window of her apartment, her arms wrapped around herself. Her pink sweater was draped over her shoulders. Rebecca kept offering to replace it, saying it was out of style at this point, but she refused. Riza took good care of it. She made sure to. It had been one of the first things she had bought for herself, after she left home. It was comforting, and she wasn’t ready to give it up. It was her choice to buy it, and that was a reminder that she was someone beyond the choices that others had made for her.

She heard soft footsteps behind her, but she didn’t turn around. She knew who it was, and she knew that he wouldn’t do anything to hurt her. He didn’t even want to startle her right now with the state she was in and the way she was armed.

“Riza?” Roy called out her voice softly. “Are… Can I get you anything?”

She was quiet for a bit and didn’t turn around. After a moment, she glanced over her shoulder, back at Roy. He was worried about her, that much was clear, and honestly? He had reason to be. She was worried about her too.

“Part of me keeps wondering—what if I just got you to burn the rest of it off.”

She saw the horror enter his eyes, which was mutely reflected in his expression. “Riza—no! No, I won’t do that to you!”

She sighed and looked down. “I know,” she said. “I know you won’t. And—” she looked back up, sharpness in her words. “Just so you know, no, I am not contemplating ways to do it myself.”

She had told him that the first time around. She had told him that she would find a way to remove the tattoo herself if he didn’t burn it off. They had both known that any attempts alone would likely kill her. He had been horrified. At the time, she honestly hadn’t minded, feeling that, if she died, then that was her penance for her sins.

Looking back, she could clearly see that she had not been in a good frame of mind. But then again, few of them coming back from the war had been. Even Hughes, for all of his jovial behavior, had his problems as well. The three of them had helped teach other through enough hard nights that they couldn’t go to anyone else about. Bless Gracia for never begrudging them that.

“What are you going to do, then?” Roy asked her, moving to stand right in front of her. He wasn’t demanding of her, but questioning, allowing her to take the lead, which she appreciated.

“…I don’t know,” she said. “Be paranoid.” It was half a joke, but it was also true. She was already double checking her door and windows constantly and was armed all of the time. She had taken to hiding a few more guns around, and anytime she went out she was hyper aware.

Roy frowned. “You can’t keep living like that.”

“I know,” she said. “But I also can’t not. Roy, a man tried to kidnap me to get to my father’s research. He was going to take me somewhere, to someone, some group, and have them try to learn the secrets of flame alchemy from it—from me. From me, Roy! It’s the thing I’ve fought against since it was put on my back.” She let her head drop to his shoulder, and he was immediately wrapping his arms around her. “I can’t escape, Roy. I try and try, but I can’t escape my father’s grasp.”

He held her tightly, holding her as closely as he could, and she leaned into it, her hands grasping him back.

“…I can’t let it happen,” she said, half whispering it out as he held her. “I can’t—Roy, I can’t let that happen. I—”

“Shh,” Roy held her tightly, and even rocked her a little. “Come here,” he pulled her with him, over to the kitchen chairs, and sat her down, staying close to her. “Listen, Riza… I’m not going to let that happen, alright? I’m not going to let anyone put their hands on you, I’m not going to let anyone use your father’s knowledge against your wishes. Not even me.”

She looked up at him, tears shining in her eyes. “But how? Roy, how are you going to prevent it.”

He paused, thinking a moment. “We won’t leave you alone. You go somewhere, one of use will go with you. See if maybe Catalina can stay with you a while,” he paused, and lifted a hand to her cheek. “I’d love to stay with you. But…”

She leaned into his hand. “I know,” she said.

“And I promise you, we’ll find these people he was connected to. We’ll find them, and we’ll make sure they can’t do anything with you or with anyone else ever again. We’ll stop them.” He vowed. “But we’ll make sure you stay protected. And I’ll be trying to find a way to remove that tattoo that won’t hurt you, that won’t cause you problems.” He tilted her head up to look him in the eyes. “I promise you, Riza Hawkeye, that I will do everything in my power to make sure you and the secret of flame alchemy are protected.”

“Thank you,” she said, and closed her eyes as he gathered her in his arms again.

A large part of her still wanted to panic about this. It was hard not to. She was scared, so scared, and it was a deep seeded, old fear, one that her father had put on her as a young woman. It was one that had rested with her most of her life. She had thought herself fairly safe, but now? Now she wasn’t sure.

“…I think that I might can spare one night with you,” Roy said. “I mean, it’s late. If I just happen to fall asleep here, well, we have just gotten back from a long trip, and you were injured during it. I think it would be excusable.”

She gave him a brief smile, although it didn’t quite have the power it usually did. “We’ll have to make up the couch for you,” she said. He looked mildly disappointed, at least until she continued. “After all, if someone comes calling, we’ll need it to look right.”

“It’ll need to look slept in,” he pointed out.

“We’ll let Hayate take care of that,” she said. Her smiled dropped a bit. “Roy…” her fingers intertwined with his. “Just hold me tonight.”

He put a kiss on her forehead. “Of course, Riza,” he said. “I planned on it.”

He stood up then, and gently tugged her up and out of the chair. They went, together, and made up the couch, made it look as if it had been slept in, and deposited Hayate there before they retired to her room. The little pup didn’t seem to mind so much. He seemed to be glad that they would be spending the night together, actually.

They changed, turned down her bed, and then crawled under the blankets. They were thick and warm, and it had a protective feeling to Riza, as if nothing could get her while she was buried under them. The weight of them was comforting. They weren’t something that would just be thrown or flung back without it being noticed.

Roy snuggled up to her, a hand going around her waist as he tugged her closer, holding onto her from behind. He fit himself snuggly against her back, holding her to him. It felt good, it felt right, it felt like this was the way that it was supposed to be. It reminded Riza of nights as children, looking up at the stars and falling asleep together. It reminded her of nights at her childhood home, just the two of them, when he would pull up to her like this after a night of studying her back, wanting to pamper her after all that she was letting him do. It reminded her of nights in Ishval when all either of them wanted was a reminder that they had been something more than the killing machines they now were. It reminded her of midnight visits to the Hughes’s home, accidently going on the same night, and sleeping there, together, knowing that neither of their friends would say a word.

It reminded her of safety, and of a steadfast, unshakable love that she had never dreamed had existed all those years ago, let alone for someone like her. For some who’s own father didn’t even want her, didn’t even think of her as more then something to be used.

It reminded her that she wasn’t alone.

She had Roy. She had Becca. She had Havoc. She had Breda. She had Falman. She had Fuery. She had Hayate. She was far from alone in this situation.

And so Riza Hawkeye breathed in, breathed out, and settled down, letting the warmth of Roy hold and protect her.

“I’ve got your back,” he said, half in a whisper, and a smile touched her lips.

“I wouldn’t trust it to anyone else,” she said, and while there was a double meaning in that, she knew that he would also hear her words of love in it.

And so, with his reassurance, Riza Hawkeye fell asleep, hoping for a new day to bring hope.

[blissfulalchemist]

“ you made it look so damned easy to leave me. ” + twc kids xx

Ah Thank you Stella! Some angst but nothing detrimental but we’re dealing with an ex so there’s that. I hope you enjoy a little back story as timeline wise this would take place just before main game events. 

It’s the worst type of weather, always had been for Hayat, the sky grey chilling the air and the clouds holding back the rain desperate to fall, combining into a sticky cold day. Always the second week of April every year without fail, a constant in this small town. Normally, Hayat would have been inside still, inviting others on the police force to have lunch in his “office” so they could all relax and have fun for a little while, not today though as he forgot his lunch and the lack of breakfast made the vending machines no longer an option for the day. So here he was, walking down Main Street unsure of where to get a decent lunch and starting to freeze, he should have brought a beanie with him today. 

It’s the familiar scent of grains of paradise that slows him down. It comes from a new restaurant, open only a few weeks, one he’s been wanting to try, hoping to have a little bit of home closer to where his home is now. No time like the present, he thinks making his way to the door, blowing on his hands for some warmth. 

His speed picks up the closer he comes to the door, inattentive to another customer walking out. Their eyes are focused on their phone, running straight into Hayat, the two of them almost falling over. 

“Oh. Sorry man, didn’t-,” Hayat’s words catch in his throat as he identifies just whom he ran into. 

Bobby Marks.

Despite the glasses Bobby wears now, Hayat would know the dark blonde hair anywhere with it being the same style since they first met in college, short along the sides and enough length at the top to spike it up with some kind of hair gel or wax depending on the weather, It would have been wax on a day like today. Bobby brushed himself off, giving Hayat a lopsided smile, “Don’t worry about it, handsome,” Hayat repressed the growl at the old nickname, “Surprised to see you out at this time.”

“Just needed some lunch,” he took a step to the side, the reporter following him, “so if you don’t mind,” Hayat tried once again to make his way into the restaurant. 

“Maybe we could eat together,” Bobby stepped closer, “just like old times.”

Hayat scoffed, “‘Like old times’.” He shook his head, crossing his arms, “What do you want?”

“Who says I want anything?”

He rolled his eyes, Don’t be difficult, “Because it’s you, Bobby. You always want something from me. Whether it be some story, information, or privileges there’s always some ulterior motive with you when it comes to me.”

“Maybe I just want to have lunch with you,” Bobby shrugged, “especially since we’d be having the same food.” 

Not any more, Hayat turned on his heel, “You know what, I'm actually not that hungry anymore.”

“Bull. Shit,” Bobby spat out, moving to keep pace with the officer, “You can’t lie to me, I know you better than that.”

“The fuck does it matter to you anyway?” Hayat stuffed his fists into the pockets of his jacket, “I don’t like hanging out with you unless absolutely necessary and this,” he stopped looking down on the journalist, “isn’t necessary.”

Bobby glared at him, clenching his jaw, “You know what I don’t understand with you? How you act like I didn’t ever love you when the exact opposite is true.”

Hayat rolled his eyes grumbling, “Could have fooled me.”

“It’s the truth Hayat,” Bobby pleaded, stopping himself as soon as the words left his mouth. He shook his head, “Why am I even arguing with you about this? You were the one that made it look so damn easy to leave me.” Hayat flinched, crossing his arms, “Don’t look at me like that. You think I didn’t see the traveling,” Trying to find a way back home, “the new relationships,” It was the only way to stave off the loneliness and feel something, “all of it leading to this shiny job that everyone says you’re just born to do. ‘Just like his old man, Rook!’ that’s what they all say.”

Hayat laughed, mouth thinning as he paced in a slow circle, “Easy, right. That’s what you’ve been telling yourself all these years?” He shook his head running a hand through his dark hair, “Bobby, leaving you was the hardest thing I’ve had to do. I loved you. Leaving was the last thing I wanted to do, but what was I supposed to do? You screwed me over to a point that I had to make a new life with new passions from scratch.”

“That was never my intention,” he snapped, “You could have stayed. I could have helped you find something. I could have taken care of you.”

“Taken-? No! I didn’t need to be taken care of and like hell I’d let you be the one to do that.”

“Fine. But you didn’t have to leave me still. We still could have had a life together, you and me,” he jabbed a finger into Hayat’s chest, “but you were the one that threw us away.”

Hayat shook his head, pushing Bobby’s hands away, “No, I didn’t. That was you, the minute you decided to frame me like the coward you are. You threw our relationship away, not me.” 

“How was I supposed to know that they’d strip you of your academic accomplishments! You were so nice and good, you never broke a rule in your life! I thought they’d go easy on you, Hiya.” Bobby bit his lower lip, “I’m sorry they didn’t.”

“What kind of universe are you living in that made you think they’d go easy on me, Bobby?” The journalist looked at the ground, rubbing the back of his neck fumbling for a response, “Look, I don’t know if you’ve cared to notice but I’m not like you,” he kept his breathing even, his voice rising in volume, “There’s a reason I never broke a rule, why I had to be so nice to people that I would have loved to have avoided in any other situation. The reason? Because it was hard enough to get past the assumptions on what my education would be used for, getting past the sneers by some of the other students as the fear mongering grew once again, and to top it off the department head had been looking for just about anything to use as an excuse to get me out of there since day one,” The racist bastard. “So yeah, I can be as mad as I want about it because you, of all people, should have known what they would do to someone like me.” Hayat’s fists shook, taking a deep breath, he just had to calm down, He’s not worth the fight. Not worth getting this angry over, “You're just selfish and that’s all you ever will be.”

Hayat finally turned away from him, stalking towards the station, hearing Bobby call out, “I wouldn’t have come back if that were true you know!” 

Hayat scoffed, grumbling, “What fucking bullshit. Only here cause you figured the job was easy,” And that I was still easy to manipulate. 

“There’s something bigger going on here! You’ll need me one day! Just you watch,” Bobby called out, He’s just wanting to get under my skin, Hayat thought as he walked faster, eyes focused on the cobblestone below. 

“I’ll never need him. Never did to begin with,” he mumbled nearing the edge of the park. He just needed a bit of a walk before heading back to the station, he could use the cool down. The station would be fine without him if he was late and if it wouldn’t be then he carried a phone for a reason. It wasn’t long before the trail became uneven, Hayat glancing up, he’d made his way towards the woods surrounding the town. He paused, letting out a long breath, whispers of fog leaving him, “Guess I start heading back,” he whispered, turning a one-eighty on his heel. The shaking had stopped, his head becoming clear once more, shoulders starting to hang and feel sore, stomach cramping with hunger. “Little deli by the station it is, I guess.”

The focus he held for the ground below him didn’t give any leeway to notice the person nearing him, not like the stranger paid much mind either as he worked to light a cigarette. Their shoulders connected, Hayat stumbling back a few steps while the dark haired stranger stayed in place. “Watch where you’re going,” he growled out, Hayat getting the briefest look at the man already stanturing away. He had to be new in town, or just passing through, his dark olive toned skin showing some time in the sun, Probably on vacation somewhere exotic. How lucky. His shoulder length hair blew softly in the breeze that picked up, Hayat rolling his eyes, Probably gets to just use some dollar store shampoo for upkeep I bet. 

He let out a sigh, eyes catching the bright white carton on the dirt trail. He bent down to pick it up, the structure still stiff and showing little wear on the edges, a near brand new box. Hayat couldn’t help but glance inside the box, half the cigarettes already gone, Good luck to him in five years. “Hey wait up,” he called out, jogging the small distance between them, “You dropped these.”

The man turned slightly looking at Hayat's outstretched hand, quickly grabbing the box. “Thanks,” he said simply, walking away from him and pocketing the carton before Hayat could utter a response. With one last look, he gave a shrug, stuffing his hands in the pockets of his jacket making his way back to the station, where Tina waited for him with a small meal from Haley’s bakery. 

“Heard about your run in,” she said with a sympathetic smile, “You know if you need help in learning how to ignore him, I’d be more than happy to teach you.” She sat on the edge of his desk, leg swinging beneath her, “Can’t tell you how many people I’ve had to do that for.”

Hayat laughed, “Oh I wouldn’t be surprised with you, Tina,” her jaw dropped, giving him a small slap on the shoulder with a smile. He gave her a light push off the desk, the two of them laughing a moment more as he opened up his lunch. “Thank you, Tina. You’re a good friend.” She posed, batting her eyelashes with a big grin she couldn’t contain, Hayat giving a chuckle, “Alright Miss America, go and get what we need for patrol before you make me regret saying it.”

“Aye, Aye, Captain,” she said with a salute, laughing as she made her way to the other side of the building.

[magnus-the-maqnificent]

Whumptober Day 6

The Downside of Immortality

“Stop, please.”

Magnus stood still in the middle of the street, rain pouring down in torrents and drenching him as he stood there, staring at Alec, who was only a few mere feet away from him. His shoulders were hunched, and even without looking at his face Magnus could see the strain in his body, the kind that came from the blows of time.

“Alec,” Magnus said softly. “We can’t- We have to try.”

Alec turned then, looking at him with eyes whose light had gone out a long time ago. A part of his soul had already been torn away when Jace died. The rest was here, in front of Magnus now, slowly turning to crumbling marble.

“We’ve been trying for the last fifty years, Magnus,” Alec said, and he involuntarily flinched. “We’ve been trying and trying and trying - and I’m done trying now.”

Magnus swallowed. “But… where will you go?”

Alec snorted, his eyes flicking away from Magnus and lips twisting up into a cruel sort of smile. “I don’t know. I don’t know anymore.”

Magnus just stood and watched him, his limbs rooted to the ground. Alec took a deep breath, and he suddenly looked very, very tired. “I only have you. I don’t have anyone else. I don’t know where to go anymore.”

Magnus felt something twist inside his gut. Neither of them spoke those words out loud. The didn’t have to. They knew.

He scrubbed a hand over his hand. “This is all my fault.”

Alec’s head whipped up to look at him. “Stop. Neither of us could’ve known this would happen.”

Magnus let out a short derisive laugh. “Love. It makes you believe all sorts of things, doesn’t it?”

Alec was silent.

“Still… I should’ve known. I should’ve stopped you.”

“I made my choice,” Alec said softly. “There was nothing you could’ve done.”

This time, Magnus was silent.

Very slowly, Alec walked towards him, placing a hand on his shoulder and catching his eye.

“It’s okay,” Alec said. “We did what we could. I guess… I think I understand now. Sometimes you just have to let things go.”

“Alec-“

“We would’ve had to part one day anyway,” Alec went on, ignoring him. “We just delayed it. We just bought more time.”

Magnus stared at him a long moment. “Where will you go?”

Alec’s eyes fell away at that, and he just gave a half-hearted shrug. “I’ll go to the spiral labyrinth, first. Tessa will be there. She can help me out.”

Magnus nodded. He wished things were different. He wished this never happened.

Not everything lasted forever. Not even love.

Neither of them had known back then. Alec had told Magnus one night, that he’d wished to be immortal, to spend eternity with him. Magnus had laughed it off at first, then he’d realised Alec was being serious, and hesitated. He didn’t want Alec to suffer through the trials and tribulations of immortality, and he had told him as such.

But…

“I’ll be fine,” Alec had said, cupping Magnus’s face in his hands, and he had melted right then and there. “I’ll bear it all. As long as I’m by your side, my love, I’ll be fine.”

Magnus had reluctantly agreed, a part of him unable to believe that Alec was actually doing this. For him. They’d poured through books day and night, had visited several libraries, uncovered lost volumes until at last they found the recipe for a rare potion.

It had several names, mentioned in several sources across history - elixir, Amrita, Aab-i-Hayat, Chasma-i-Kausar, Aab-Haiwan, Maha Ras and so many more. Ultimately, it was potion that granted the drinker immortality.

Magnus had prepared it, and Alec had been made immortal. Time passed, and Magnus couldn’t help but watch as Alec watched his family grow old and die, one after the other. Everytime he mourned in Magnus’s arms, Alec told him that he didn’t regret it, not one bit, that he would be fine. With a heavy heart, Magnus had nodded and held him close.

Time passed by. Alec slowly healed. They had been happy together for a long, long time. And then, time slowly began to build a wedge between them, until they reached where they were now.

They’d expected to live eternity by each other’s side. Neither of them had expected that in the millenia stretching out before him, at some point in the hundreds and thousands of years, they would somehow stop loving each other.

It had dawned upon Magnus sometime in the last century, this horrible, horrible truth - that he did not feel for Alec in the same way that he had several centuries ago. That his love for Alec now was simply not the same as it was then, back when things were new and wonderful and absolutely blissful. He’d kept it to himself, the truth lodged in his heart like a terrible thorn that had pierced him once. That had been a real thorn, and Alec had been able to banish its effect on him. But now…

A lot of mundane couples fell out of love after a couple of decades. Magnus and Alec had centuries in front of them. They should’ve known.

They’d talked it out, of course, and when they realised they both felt the same way, tried to put themselves back together. They’d tried new things, moved to new places. But nothing worked. It was a hopeless case right from the start.

And then, this morning. Alec had announced that he was leaving. Which led them here, standing in the middle of the street, soaked from head to toe.

Now, Alec looked at Magnus, who had his face turned away. He stepped closer, reaching out and running a hand down the front of Magnus’s wet jacket, and rested his forehead against Magnus’s shoulder.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered.

Magnus’s lips twitched up into a derisive smile. “Don’t be. You couldn’t have known.”

Alec was silent.

“Alec,” Magnus said, his throat feeling constricted. “Thank you. Thank you for everything.”

He could sense Alec’s smile, even if he couldn’t see it.

Alec looked up, his intense blue eyes meeting Magnus’s. “I miss the days when you’d call me Alexander.”

“I miss them too,” Magnus said with a small smile. He wished he could go back to those days, but their time had passed. Their love had passed. “How much did we have together, again?”

“Six hundred and eighty three years.” Alec returned the smile. “That’s a long time, isn’t it?”

Magnus nodded. “I’ll send your things to the spiral labyrinth, then.”

Alec looked at him a long moment, then asked in a low voice, “Can I kiss you one last time?”

Magnus’s eyes widened a fraction. Alec had an expectant expression on his face, and it was apparent that he was asking for the sake of nostalgia and nothing more.

So Magnus nodded and leaned in.

They kissed, their connected lips a pinpoint of heat in the cold rain. It wasn’t much - a touch of lips to lips, a simple kiss, and yet Magnus mourned when it produced within him nothing - not desire, not love, not a spark, nothing.

Alec was the first to pull away, and Magnus had stood still for a moment before he slowly opened his eyes.

“Take care,” Alec said, and for a moment something passed between them, a hundred unspoken words.

Maybe someday, said a small, hopeful voice somewhere in the back of Magnus’s mind.

“You too,” Magnus said back, nodding at him, and that was that.

Alec turned away from him, walking away, the rain rendering his visage blurry as he got farther and farther away.

But this time, Magnus let him go.

[tequilapants]

Please enjoy some angst but fluff later on for Roy and Riza

Pairing: Royai

Rating: M

Summary: Roy can’t get over burning her but Riza tries to make him understand. He doesn’t at first but Riza breaks down to him about his near death experiences. Comfort sex ensues.....

He laid there, gazing at her form on the other side of the bed. She was beautiful even in her pajamas. She made it look so effortless. His eyes brought themselves to focus on her back, tattoo seeping out of the edges of her tank top. Of course, with her tattoo came his burn marks. His eyes dropped from her skin, mulling over the event that happened years ago but still couldn’t forgive himself for. Letting out a silent, frustrated sigh, he turned to rest flat on his back, looking up at the ceiling. 

Some nights, he would stay there at her place. Covertly of course. He took in her small room, eyes already adjusted to the dim light. A small amount of illumination came in through the windows from the street lamps outside. It was still quite dark but he could see the patterns on her skin. He’d always be able to. Even when he was blind. 

He kept a pair of pajama pants here for the nights he stayed, shifting uncomfortably in them now. To calm his mind, he looked to the door for Hayate. On nights Roy wasn’t here, Hayate would sleep in the bed with Riza or at the bedside. Sadly, Roy would take his spot sometimes, leaving Hayate to sleep by the front door. They always joked he was guarding it for anyone who would try to catch them in the act. Although, they would always leave the bedroom door ajar for him, on the rare occasions he’d nudge his way in and sleep at their feet. Thinking about Hayate made him smile a bit. Taking his mind off of his turmoil for a moment. Some nights, his mind would take him down this dark path unexpectedly. All he could do was ride it through hoping to pop out happier, or forget about it, on the other side. He thought she was asleep, but he heard her voice come from the other side of the bed.

“Staring at it won’t make anything different.” She said matter of factly, familiar with the feeling of his eyes boring holes into her back. 

“I thought you were asleep.” He responded, head turning the other way, ashamed of getting caught.

“I can’t sleep with you boring holes into my back.” She sighed, turning onto her back just like him. “It’s really alright Roy.” She said softly into the beat of silence they shared, hand moving in search of his. She found it, interlocking their fingers and turning her head to face him. 

He didn’t like talking about this with her. She constantly reassured him that what he did was the right decision when he got like this. He appreciated her efforts but it really never calmed his nerves. He hurt her. He burned her. He caused her pain. By his hand. He always thought to himself. She never deserved anything like that, and he had to be the one to do it to her. He was too caught up in his thoughts to realize her movement. In one moment, she was laying next to him gazing at his face. In the next, she was hovering over him, knees at his sides and hands pinning his.

“Wha-” He started to say only to be cut off.

“Roy.” She said sternly, looking hard into his eyes. “Mulling over my back isn’t going to make a difference. Staring at it angrily won’t make the tattoo go away. It especially won’t erase the burn scars either.” She saw him visibly wince at her last sentence, effectively making her change her tactics. “Ok, look at it from a different perspective. Put yourself in my shoes for a minute. You are the only person in the whole world, who holds secrets to one of the most destructive types of alchemy out there. You have to live in fear every second of everyday, that someone doesn’t catch wind that you have it and try to kidnap you, harm you, torture you, or even kill you for the information that you have. Everyday you have to hide it, hide yourself, and be scared someone will track you down by your last name. And then one day, you think of the answer. It makes sense. Poetic in a way even. That the one person who learned this alchemy is the one that can rid you of this burden. You ask him and he says yes. The joy you feel is unlike any other you’ve felt. Hope gleaming down on you like the rays of sun in that god forsaken Ishvalan desert. He does it, even though reluctantly, and you feel the lightest and most care free anyone could ever feel. The weight had been removed from your back, even though it left some painful marks. In the end you got to your goal. You were free. Free to walk around without that fear and stand up straighter, taller, and feel more confident about yourself. Isn’t that what you would want for yourself Roy?” She asked him as sternly as she could. Getting choked up at the rehashed trauma and relief she felt then. Looking at him with wide eyes, she waited for him to answer her.

He looked at her a little stunned. He never knew the extent of emotions she felt on the subject. Of course he knew that the tattoo brought her utter grief. Although, he never knew her feelings went that deep about him burning her. Looking her in the eyes, he started to open his mouth but closed it. Thinking for a second, he turned his face away again not meeting her gaze.

“Riza. I still brought you pain. Those screams that left you that day still haunt me, I’ll never be able to forgive myself for hurting you like that. I never want to hear those screams again. It tears me up everyday that I was the one that conjured them…” He trailed off, eyes still not looking at her. Ashamed of himself. That's why he was surprised to feel her hand grip his chin and pull it back to face her. The fire in her eyes was unlike anything he’d ever seen in her before, they held this emotion he couldn’t quite pinpoint. It was somewhere between anger and absolutely falling apart.

Her voice came out a tad more horse than she wanted it to. Getting completely choked up on all of the emotion flooding her system at the moment.

“Roy,” She said as firm as she could, gripping his wrists a bit harder. “I asked you to do this. Hell, I begged you. I can forgive you for causing me pain because it was pain I was prepared for and pain that I asked for. Getting the tattoo in the first place, caused me more physical and mental pain than you ever could. And I know you would never intentionally hurt me, that’s why I begged you. I wanted you to free me and I would pay the price for that no matter the cost. A few burn scars and some painful screams felt better in comparison then getting this stupid thing anyway. I never wanted it in the first place and I desperately wanted you to destroy it. I’d never felt better about myself in my entire life until after you were finished. To this day I am grateful and glad you did it.” At this point she was doing all she could to stop her tears. Eyes a little misty but none fell yet. Her face was red and splotchy from all of her emotions being brought to the surface.

He understood what she said. He could get it a little better now, grasping her side of the story like this. He wanted to agree with her, he really did. But there was still that part of him that would always be angry at himself. That side of him decided to speak, “Riza, I get it. I see it better now, I really do. But there will still always be that part of me-” He was cut off by her voice a few levels higher than his.

“How do you think I feel huh?!” She yelled, utterly breaking down at this point. Tears making their way through her last ditch defenses. “I’ve had to witness you die twice! Both times I couldn’t do anything! All I could do was watch or sit back and hear that you had died! That first time, with that woman with the tattoo, she told me she had already killed one key player in their little game. It didn’t take me long to figure out it was you. I couldn’t believe it. Out of anger I shot all of my bullets at her and that didn’t do anything. I left myself open to the enemy willingly wanting to die with you! I broke down, heaving onto the floor. The thought of you gone completely destroyed me. You’re all I have Roy and to be taken away from me a second time! All I could do was watch you get impaled by those swords, immobilizing you to be wrapped up in those shadows. That's when the transmutation started and I heard those screams come from your mouth. I tried to get to you but everyone held me back, all I could do was watch helpless as you were there and then gone in a second. I demanded to know what had happened to you. Fearing that you died before me a second time. They told me you were alive but your wellbeing was up to chance. Finally you made it back to me but they took your eyesight! You couldn’t see your future. You couldn’t see the world crumbling around us. You couldn’t see me!” She choked on the last part, freely sobbing at this point. She hated crying. She really fucking did. It hurt her throat and her head greatly. Not to mention her body would get dehydrated in no time. Her fingers gripped tightly to his forearms, trying to ground herself or remind herself that he was still there. She didn’t know. Her face fell to his chest, trying to suck breaths into her lungs. Body heaving, she let the sobs wrack through her trying to get it out of her system. 

She never told him any of this before. Never told him how much his life events scared her and caused her this much pain. “That’s just how their lives were.” She surmised. Lifting her face from his chest, she sat back on his thighs pulling his hands with hers. She caressed the scars he had on his palms, reminded of the tragic event that caused them. She brought them to her cheeks and buried her face in his hands.

He sat there and watched her cry into his hands. Absolutely stunned at her declaration. He never knew she carried all of this around with her. Especially not knowing the amount of grief she held against herself in situations that involved him. His mouth was agape and eyes wide, staring at her red, blotchy face. Even in her states of distress, she still managed to look beautiful. Everyday she astonished him by being an absolutely amazing person inside and out. He had to comfort her, he couldn’t just sit and watch her tear herself apart like this. He knew she wasn’t mad at him, she just needed to finally vent. Sitting up slowly, he brought her face into his neck letting her rest there. Her hands left his and wrapped themselves tightly around his neck, clutching at his hair. Roy brought his legs in to sit criss cross, pulling her into his lap properly. She molded herself to him, clutching at him and never wanting to let go. Whispers of “I didn’t know”s, and “I’m sorry”s, left his mouth as his face found her neck too. His lips fell right at the subtle scar on her neck, bringing a few tears from his eyes as well.

They sat there, crying and holding each other on her bed. His hands rubbed up and down her back, while hers were still glued in his hair. In the darkness, they relieved themselves of all their pent up emotions. After a while, their sobs started to die down which left them with wet eyes and red faces.

His hand came up to caress her hair, trying his best to comfort her. He felt her pull away from his neck and her hands rest on his bare chest.

“You can’t beat yourself up over this Roy.” She said looking him in the eyes, a few sniffles escaping her. One of her hands came up to wipe away her tears with her palm.

Lifting his hand to stop her, he pushed her hand away taking its place. His thumbs came to caress her cheeks and wipe away her stray tears. Looking into her eyes softly, he mimicked her, “You can’t beat yourself up either Riza.” That got her to perk up the side of her mouth a few centimeters. He saw her look down into the space between them, a little sheepish at her rare explosion of emotions. “I never knew you felt that way, and I’m glad you told me. This helped me to understand you better, understand us a bit better.” He said to her, fingers lifting her chin so he could look at her face. 

“I guess you’re right, it needed to be let out at some point.” She responded, still in disbelief at her outburst. She sniffled and felt Roy shift to get a tissue on the bedside table. Taking it gratefully with a small smile, she wiped her nose and tossed it towards her little trash can. Unsurprisingly, it didn’t go in. Oh well, she’d get it tomorrow.

He let out a little chuckle at her missed shot, breaking the heavy air around them. They both welcomed it greatly, smiling at one another. To be honest, he felt a little guilty that she was the only one who opened up tonight. He knew how hard that was for her to do, so he decided to speak too. One hand found its way under her chin again, effectively lifting it so he could look into her eyes. “Riza,” he started seriously, “I know how hard all of that must have been for you, especially telling me about all of it.” His other hand came up to rub at the side of her jaw with his thumb. Continuing, “Thinking about the time where I almost lost you, having to sit there and make one of the hardest decisions of my life, seeing you bleed out right in front of my eyes…” He stopped for a second to suck in a breath, emotions constricting his throat again. “I had to sit back too and I couldn’t do anything about it. You must have felt the same way, probably even worse because I disappeared. Thankfully, I got you back,” one of his hands intertwined his fingers with hers, “and I think that was probably the happiest moment of my life. I felt so relieved seeing that you were still with me. I wanted to bring you into my chest and never let you go, make sure you were safe and wouldn’t be taken away from me again. Sadly, we didn’t have that luxury. When we found each other again, it broke my heart that I couldn’t see you. I couldn’t see your beautiful face, I couldn’t see the status of your injuries, or if you were ok even. I thought I’d have to go the rest of my life without seeing you. Seeing the way your lips would quirk into a half smile when you’d bring me my coffee every morning, the way your body language relaxed when I would walk into the room, your countless expressions only I would get to see.” He saw her lip quiver slightly, eyes a bit misty again. His own weren’t much better but he continued nonetheless, “But, the moment I got my sight back, the first thing I searched for was you. I knew you’d be right there because you always are. You always have my back and I can’t thank you enough for the amount of times you have saved my life.” His hands cupped her face, making sure he had her undivided attention. “Riza, I love you with every fiber of my being.” He looked into her eyes with sincerity, thumbs rubbing at her cheeks. “And I think you are the most beautiful,” he leaned in to place a soft kiss on her forehead, “trustworthy,” a kiss to her temple, “selfless,” the tip of her nose, “down to earth,” an eyebrow, “loyal,” her cheek, “powerful,” her eyelids, “awe inspiring and dedicated person I know. I just said this but I’ll never get tired of saying it. I love you Riza Hawkeye and there’s nothing in this universe that will change that.”

A few more tears escaped from her eyes. Just a few. They were happy tears this time, which splashed softly onto the hands that held her face. He stared at her like she was the only thing in the world that mattered. For him that was probably true. She found herself looking down sheepishly again, not used to all of the compliments. She never knew how great it felt to be praised like this, hearing his proclamations of love for her. A soft smile spread over her lips, cheeks turning a more consistent color of red. Not from crying this time.

A smile bloomed across his own features at her embarrassment. He dipped his head down, capturing her lips softly. They kissed each other so tenderly, effortlessly infusing their emotions into the action. His hands still cupped her face while hers came up to fiddle with the ends of his hair, stroking the back of his neck. They pulled away, resting their foreheads against each other. Looking into each other’s eyes, they both laughed like kids. Happy and free. They loved each other, they really did. One couldn’t bear to live without the other, and if one died they’d follow the other straight into hell. Heaven if they were lucky.

She gripped the wrists that were just inches from her face. “I think it’s pretty obvious by now,” she started, face blushing again, “but I love you too, with all the power invested in me.” She smiled at him, thumbs rubbing at the skin on the inside of his wrists. It was hard for her to open up, usually so stoic in nature. So these proclamations she’s made to him tonight are a feat within themselves, but the words that were said meaning just that much more to both of them.

He gazed fondly at her face, heart warming at her words. He loved her. Loved this woman sitting in front of him on his lap, golden hair spilling over one shoulder as her hands held his wrists. He wanted to kiss her and show her how much he loved her. What’s stopping him? He leaned in and captured her lips again, pulling her face to his. They both smiled into the kiss, enjoying the feel of the other against them. Dropping his hands to her hips, his thumbs dipped underneath her tank top and stroked the soft skin there.

Her arms draped themselves over his shoulders, hands interlocking behind his neck. She shifted herself slightly in his lap, hearing a soft groan escape from him. Internally she giggled. She loved making him feel like this. 

In his mind, right now was not about him or his needs. He wanted her to feel good, wanted her to feel absolutely loved and he would do just that. Lips still intertwined, his hands lifted up her tank top slightly so the entirety of his hands could feel her skin. A sigh of approval left her lips, eyes smiling into his. He got the message. Lifting her off him slightly, he flipped them so she was on her back, legs on either side of her. The sensation of her hands finding their way into his hair sent a small shiver down his spine. Their lips found each other’s again while his hands roamed over the soft skin of her stomach. It didn’t take him long to pull it off of her, settling her back comfortably onto the bed. She never wore a bra to sleep. He wasn’t complaining. It made her more comfortable and this a bit easier.

She was mesmerized by this man. Loving the way she ultimately captivated him and the expressions he would make. He would always look at her like she was his sole focus. It made her heart swell. No one had ever looked at her like that before, not until he came along. She found it hilarious but also quite adorable that he never seemed to get used to seeing her naked. She thought he would by now, seeing that his textbook was her bare skin back in the day. Nonetheless, she appreciated it, especially the slight red hue that dusted his cheeks now as he looked at her breasts. 

Her small giggle brought him out of his daze, blush deepening as he realized he was caught staring at her chest. Smirking at her, he made a move for her neck, littering it with kisses. He dragged his lips down her neck to her chest, capturing a breast into his mouth. A groan escaped her, tugging a bit harder on his hair wanting to keep him there. He just kept nipping and sucking while his hands moved lightly up and down her sides. A few gasps escaped her which only fueled his actions. Switching to her other breast, his right hand snaked its way to the front of her shorts, slipping his hand past the waistband of her shorts and underwear while his fingers found her clit.

Her breath hitched, stimulated by the cold air that hit her wet nipple along with his hand at her clit. She thoroughly enjoyed what he was doing to her. He knew what she liked and he was doing it expertly. A moan left her throat, head sinking deeper into the pillows as her back arched slightly. 

Wetting his fingers with her arousal, his finger slid across her clit easier making him go faster. Her head turned to the side while her hips went along with the rhythm he created. He watched her slowly fall apart and he loved it. He wasn’t doing this because he was horny or trying to satisfy some primal desire. He was doing this because he wanted her to feel good, to let go, to show her that he loved her and nothing else. The erection that started to show itself he could care less about. His mind was on her and he’d let her know.

As his finger moved faster, his other hand brought her face back to the center. His lips found hers hotly, mouths melding together in a silent battle.

Her hands still clutched at his hair, pulling him down further to her mouth. She moaned into his mouth, hips becoming more erratic. She was close and he knew.

Lifting his head against her hand’s wishes, he made his way back to her breast. He wanted her to have more stimulation, sucking at her nipple again as his hand moved even faster.

She moaned loudly, muscles tensing but not quite there yet. “I-I’m-,” she started but was cut off by his teeth biting down on her abused nipple. That was it. She came. Moaning a bit louder, she was completely taken over by her orgasm.

The pinch of her nails on his scalp kept him focused. He helped her ride it out, finger still vigorously swiping over her clit. His mouth let go of her breast, focusing his ministrations down south while her hips bucked into his hand, trying to search for more stimulation. Gradually he slowed his hand helping her come down. She was panting with her eyes shut, head cast to the side. She was beautiful and he wanted to see her do it again. Removing his hand from her underwear, he cleaned his fingers with his mouth. Her eyes were half lidded, taking in what he just did. Breathing still a bit ragged, he brought his lips to her pulse, kissing at her neck, staying longer in spots than he did last time but not long enough to leave marks.

Her mind cleared a bit post orgasm. The feel of his lips against her neck was great and all but she really just wanted to kiss him again. Hands that still laid limp in his hair pulled him up to her again. He kissed her softly and slowly, wanting to savor the moment.

Languidly, he stayed kissing her. No biting, no nipping of her lips, just their mouths pressed together sweetly. Her hands snaked across his shoulders feeling his heated skin, making their way down to his abdomen.

Her fingers brushed over the muscles of his stomach, feeling them constrict under her touch. He groaned quietly in her mouth, loving the welcomed shivers that made their way up his spine. Moving her fingers to his sides, she lightly dragged them up and down his skin, careful of the long healed scar that marred his side and back. His skin felt different there, a little more puckered and rugged but she still loved it. Loved him. She never looked at him differently after that, never thought he was unattractive or undesirable. To her he was beautiful inside and out, she loved the way his hair would get messy after sex, or how his skin would glow after he got out of the shower. But she also loved how he took the time to remember things she had only mentioned once. Like the time she mentioned in passing that she liked the scent of a cedarwood candle burning in the lobby of a hotel, when they went to talk to Ed and Al about something. That was quite a bit of time ago but even so, he switched his cologne to a similar scent thinking she wouldn’t notice. Of course, she noticed and pulled him aside in private to kiss him for it. She still remembers the smug smile that made its way onto his face after he figured out what the impromptu kiss was for. He still smells like that now because he knows she likes it. God she loved this man and there really was nothing in the world that could change that.

Lost in her thoughts, she barely registered him pull away from her mouth to place long kisses down her body. He lifted his head up at her abdomen, locking his eyes with hers and looking at her fondly. Bringing her hands up to his jaw, her thumbs rubbed at his cheeks.

“What are you doing, come back.” She said softly, trying to pull his face back to hers.

A faint chuckle escaped his lips, “Sorry, I have other plans.” A smirk gracing his lips. He saw that she looked a bit confused, eyes narrowing slightly as her hands still cupped his cheeks. Deciding she needed to be enlightened, he gripped her wrists lightly and removed her hands from his face. A slight frown graced her own lips at the lost contact. Oh well, that frown would be wiped from her features soon. 

His mouth found her abdomen again, sucking on the skin lightly. Moving his way further down to the waistband of her shorts, his hands came up to pull them down slowly, grabbing her underwear too. Still kissing her stomach, he took his time to feel the smooth skin of her thighs against his fingertips. He heard her gasp stopping in his tracks, eyes opening but not looking at her face right away.

“Jesus Christ Roy.” She whispered into the air, taken off guard at the direction he took them in. She was perfectly content with kissing him for the rest of the night, soft and slow in the dim lighting of her room. Looking down to his mop of black hair, his bangs tickled her skin lightly and his hands were stopped at her knees.

“You can tell me no if you want me to stop.” He said earnestly, wanting her to feel good not uncomfortable. When he didn’t hear her respond right away he looked up at her to see what was wrong. He saw the faint dusting of a blush bloom across her cheeks but a grin also adorning her features.

“I never said no.” She said smugly, looking him in the eyes.

He just smiled and shook his head, going back to what he was doing. Pulling off her shorts and underwear the rest of the way, he tossed them into some corner of the room not really caring about them right now. Taking one of her ankles, he lifted it over his shoulder and did the same with the other one as he rested on his knees. He just smirked devilishly down at her before he leaned down on the bed taking her with him. They were at the same eye level now, peering over her stomach at her face that fell in between her breasts. He really was right where he wanted to be. He could see all of her now, take in her full beauty from her face to her body. 

Her whole body started to blush at the sight of him between her legs. He’s done this before but she still never got used to it, like how he still hasn’t gotten used to seeing her naked. She gasped again as she felt his lips envelop her clit, a low moan escaping her as his tongue flicked at it languidly. 

She moaned loudly as he flattened his tongue against her, moving faster.

He loved hearing her moan, taking pride in the fact that he made her feel this way. Placing his hands on the sides of her ass, he sucked lightly at her clit hearing her let out a soft cry at the contact. Looking up at her face, her head was thrashing side to side and her hands were trying to find purchase on something. Anything. Deciding to kick it up a notch, he took his right hand away from her ass and swiped two fingers through her folds. He felt her tense at that, not expecting him to do that. Smiling as he switched to lapping at her clit again, his fingers entered her slowly.

She really did not know what to do at this point. He was overloading her system in just the right way and she was trying to grasp at something to ground her. Settling for the sheets she gripped at them tightly balling it up in her fists. She wished she could grab at his back, the sheets just weren’t enough. His back was her favorite, the broad expanse of his shoulders would hover over her when he was on top and she could drag her nails freely across his skin, grasping at the thick bands of muscle that wrapped around his shoulders and trailed down his back. Unfortunately, he was too far and fuck- he started curling his fingers inside her. Arms stretched out towards either side of the bed, she gripped at the sheets tighter as his fingers moved in a “come here” motion.

The movement of his fingers caused her thighs to tighten around his head and her back to arch. His unhurried motions coaxed more moans out of her, gripping at her thigh he tried to stabilize her legs. Unsurprisingly that didn’t really work so he draped his arm over her hips. The muscles of her thighs tensed around his head and shook slightly, desperately trying to find release.

“Riza…” He drawled against her clit, sending small vibrations right to where she needed it. Her response was immediate, back arching further and arms pushing deeper into the mattress. He hummed slowly against her, pointed tongue lapping at her clit again as his fingers moved a bit faster.

“Fuck! Roy!” She whined, hands leaving the mattress and bringing them to her face. Moaning into her cupped hands, she scrunched her eyes shut tight waiting for the invisible string to finally snap. She was so close, falling apart quickly in his hands. Well, mouth. “Roy…” She whined again, “Please..” Urging him to keep going.

Whenever she moaned or whined it made him feel a certain way, but when she moaned or whined his name it went straight to his groin. Groaning at his neglected erection, he pushed his hips into the mattress to try and forget about it. Although, the added vibrations to her clit got her dangerously close to the edge. Her legs locked behind his back as her thighs squeezed his head but not uncomfortably. Knowing that whatever he did next would send her over, he decided to make it pleasurable. Sucking at her clit hard, he pumped his fingers in her slower but made deeper strokes.

Absolutely losing it, she careened over the edge and screamed at her rapid fall. Biting down on her hand in an effort to quiet her screams, her hips bucked wildly against his arm as her entire body tensed.

Sucking more gently, he helped her ride it out as his fingers gradually pumped slower and pushed up against her fluttering walls. The thighs around his head relaxed along with the rest of her body, slumping into the mattress as small spasms still ran through her. Lifting his head he saw her completely spent, hands laying next to her head as her face turned to the side desperately trying to replenish the oxygen in her lungs. Fingers still pumping into her slowly, he pulled them out and heard her let out a small whine at the loss of his fingers. He just smirked and unhooked her legs from his shoulders, effectively sitting up on his knees and welcomingly stretching his back. Taking his fingers into his mouth he cleaned them of any trace of her, licking his lips afterwards. He looked down at her still recovering form, selfishly taking pride in the state he put her in. Leaning down, he put his hands on either side of her head effectively hovering over her. He didn’t kiss her, didn’t rush her, he just stayed there and gazed at her flushed face, swollen lips parted slightly. 

Opening her eyes felt like an enormous task but she did it anyway. Finding his face, he hovered above her and she just smiled lazily, embarrassed at her current state. Lifting her arms was an even greater task than opening her eyes but she did that too, weakly grasping the sides of his jaw and looking him in the eyes. “What am I going to do with you?” She whispered, chuckling softly.

“I don’t know, what would you like to do with me?” He teased, leaning down a little closer to her face.

With all the strength she had at that moment, she pulled his face down and kissed him deeply. She could taste herself on him but to her that didn’t really matter, they were still his lips and she loved to kiss them. They stayed like that for a few minutes, trying to assert their dominance to one another through kisses and it honestly was kind of hot. The heat pooled in her stomach again, replenishing her strength. Moving one hand from his jaw, she brought it down to his very obvious erection that tented his pajama pants. Palming him through the fabric, he groaned lowly against her mouth. 

Breaking away from her lips he sucked in a breath at the unexpected contact. “Riza,” he said unsteadily, “I-I don’t want- this isn’t about-” he fumbled, getting distracted at her ministrations. Trying to maintain some of the order he had on himself, he moved one hand to grip at her wrist and try to pull her away. Before he could remove her hand she interrupted him.

“I know what you’re doing and you’re very sweet,” she started softly, growing more serious she pulled his face closer to hers and locked their eyes, “but there is nothing I want more right now than you inside of me.” No embarrassment flooded her system or showed on her face, for once he was flustered and she quite literally had him by the balls. 

His jaw went slack as he stared at her in shock. He never heard her be so forward before and that got his face to flush, eyes a bit wide too. Trying to get a grip on his thoughts he blurted out the first thing on his mind. “When did you-” he started but she was one step ahead of him. She always is.

“You may think you’re all smooth and sly, and most of the time you are, but I knew you wanted this night to be all about my needs by the time you had me on my back.” She told him, smiling at his adorably confused face. It was kind of her job to know what he was thinking, always having to be on his train of thought or multiple steps ahead of him. Rubbing his cheek with her thumb, she tried to clear up some of the confusion on his face. “If you still want this night to be about my needs that’s ok, we technically are because this is what I want. But what I really want is for you to let go too, to relax and join me in this little world of bliss. I want you to feel good too because you deserve it.” She said to him genuinely, never diverting her eyes from his. When his face turned to the side to unsuccessfully try and hide his embarrassment, she palmed him through his pants again hearing him groan.

“Nothing gets past you huh?” He stated a bit strained, his overly engorged dick had been neglected all night and it was begging for any stimulation. Head dropping so his forehead was above her chest, his hands were still planted beside her so he hovered above her. 

She wanted to touch him properly and relieve some of the horribly hidden pain on his face. Dipping her hands past the waistband of his pants, she felt her way to the base of him and made her way back up, gripping at him firmly. The moans that left him made the heat that pooled in her stomach hotter. The relief on his face was evident as she relieved some of the tension in his groin. 

Not wanting her hand to leave him, he reluctantly stood up to pull the pants off his legs. Almost ripping them off himself, he flung them to a corner forgetting about them immediately. Crawling back on the bed, his knees straddled hers as she sat up slightly reaching for his cock. 

Before touching it, she looked at it for a moment. No wonder the pain on his face was obvious, his dick was ragingly red and stood at full attention in front of her. Gripping him quickly, her thumb came around to swipe at his slit, spreading around the precum he had beading there. An almost pained noise left him, caught halfway between relief and overstimulation. Deciding to not touch him too much, she let go and laid back down, grabbing the back of his head and taking him down too.

He took the hint, and thankfully she was thinking the same thing he was. If she kept going like that he wasn’t going to last much longer. Kissing her lips again, one hand kept him upright as the other grabbed the base and lined himself up with her entrance. Swiping the tip through her folds, they both groaned and anticipated what would happen next. He easily pushed himself in, her folds slick with the two orgasms he gave her earlier. Pushing all the way in, he quickly set a pace that had their breathing labored within the minute. Figuring he had to make her cum soon, his hips faltered slightly as he grabbed her calf and put one leg over his shoulder. Thrusts turning deeper now, he entered her at an angle which had him hitting her G spot perfectly. The moans that left her throat were louder than all the others that made their way past her lips tonight.

“Fuck.” She gasped at the spike of pleasure. The angle he was positioned at felt amazing and he knew, he was hitting it every time. Thankfully though she could clutch at his back now. Her hands came up to dig into his back, nails leaving half moons on his skin. Her hips were meeting his at every thrust, if he wasn’t going to last much longer neither was she. He started to pound into her now, pushing her leg down towards her more, creating a different angle. Her nails were scratching down his back as she screamed into his shoulder, biting down on the muscle he had there.

He really needed her to cum soon because he was on the edge himself. Gripping her thigh harder he dipped his head into the crook of her neck and sucked on her pulse. A few final deep strokes had her walls finally fluttering around him as she moaned long and loud into his neck. Helping her ride through it he continued to ram into her at an angle until he couldn’t take it anymore. Pulling out of her he spilled himself onto her stomach, hand coming up to pump himself and ride out his orgasm too. He was moaning and grunting as he came on her, the scene in front of him checking off one of his fantasies. Eyes shut tight he wasn’t expecting her hand to join him. Pushing his hand to the side, she gripped him and helped him ride through the rest, milking him of all he had left. Probably sensing that he was at his end, she let go and licked off some of the cum that got on her hand. Following suit, his head dropped to her abdomen licking off the mess he made on her. Tongue cleaning her skin, he placed a few kisses on her stomach before he flopped next to her finally spent. 

Their breathing was still rapid as they laid on their backs next to each other, skin a bit slick and hair messy. Riza caught her breath first, turning her head to look at him. His eyes were closed and his lips were a bit swollen too, cheeks red and hair sticking in different directions. He was beautiful. Reaching over him, she grabbed his shoulder and pulled him so his face could rest in her chest. Kicking the covers up with her feet, she grabbed the top that was now in reach and pulled it over them up to their stomachs. They liked to sleep in different positions, of course having a few favorites. A lot of the time Roy liked to be the big spoon and pull her to him by her abdomen, arm draped over her as his thumb rubbed at the skin of her stomach. His other arm would act as a pillow for her which she appreciated. Other times Riza would bury her face in his chest and wrap her arms around his torso pulling him to her. Roy would reciprocate and drape his arm across her side, hand rubbing up and down her back until they fell asleep. On rare occasions, they would fall asleep just like this; Roy’s face would rest comfortably in the crook of her neck or bury himself in her chest. His arms would wrap around her and his hands would rest at her upper back, while Riza’s cheek rested on the top of his head; one hand buried in his hair as the other rested on the wide expanse of his back. She tangled their legs together under the blankets, pressing a soft kiss into his hair.

Their breathing was back to normal now, hearts beating evenly, basking in the afterglow of sex and the comfort they felt in each other’s arms. The door opened slightly and Hayate jumped up on the bed. He tried to step in between their legs but they were tangled together. Seemingly having no other choice, he stepped on their legs and made his way to their thighs. Lifting her head up slightly, Riza looked at Hayate standing on their legs, tongue hanging out almost in a smile. It was infectious. She laughed and brought the hand that rested on Roy’s back to Hayate’s head, scratching his ears and the side of his face.

“Hey Hayate, we’re ok.” She reassured him softly, probably coming in to see what all the noise was. The thought of being caught by her dog was a little embarrassing, even being naked in front of him now felt a little strange. They did have the blankets covering them but in some way it still felt kind of wrong. Chuckling at the thought, she laid back down and returned her hand to rest on Roy’s back. Picking up on the mood, Hayate walked to an open spot on the bed, choosing the spot right behind Roy’s legs. It was pretty adorable honestly. Lifting her head up slightly again, she looked at Hayate and Roy both curled up and ready to fall asleep. Smiling at the picture, she thought they all were almost like a little family which made her heart swell. Maybe one day. She thought to herself, looking down at Roy’s face cuddled in her chest.

“I love you Riza.” Roy said softly against her skin with his eyes closed, breaking her out of her thoughts. He looked almost asleep this entire time, he just laid his face against her chest completely spent. He moved his head a bit so he could kiss the base of her neck but moved it back to rest against her chest.

“I love you too Roy.” She said equally as soft, looking at him fondly. She pressed a soft kiss to his forehead before resting her cheek in his hair. “We love you too Hayate.” She said into the air, closing her eyes. Hayate’s ears perked up at his name but sagged back down when it got quiet again, falling asleep quickly. Her and Roy were exhausted from everything that ensued tonight, from the crying and the yelling to the multiple rounds of sex afterwards. They felt like they could sleep for days but unfortunately they had work in the morning. Oh well, at least they could fall asleep now in each other’s arms with Hayate joining them too.

[suupernovalight]

A Lost Knight

Oikawa T. x Reader

Masterlist {} Two

Warnings: implied abuse, mentions of blood

♘ One

The air felt cold. The tension in-between everyone felt uneasy and uncomfortable. You watched as the casket lowered and how the people around you started to cry more.

However, you didn’t feel the same. No more tears could come out after all the ones you shed before. Everything felt numb.

One by one, the people attending the funeral were starting to leave. The last person standing was you. While staring at the gravestone of your late king, you felt droplets of rain fall onto you.

You didn’t care though. You watched as the rain made your outfit damp and how it made the world darker. In your hands you held a white flower. As time was passing, you had to be quick with your actions or else the queen won’t be to happy.

When you were ready, you threw the flower into the ditch where his casket laid and slowly got out your sword. Out of all the anger you bottled up, you stabbed the ground with it and kneeled before your dead king and the one whom you failed to protect.

“Iwaizumi Hajime... I vow to gain revenge on the people who did this to you... so please, be by my side one last time”

Immediately upon returning back to the kingdom, you were met with nothing and nobody. Not one person looked happy. Everyone avoided each other’s eyes and would bow their heads.

“Head Knight Y/n!” You heard a voice said.

You sighed and tried to cover your face with the hair you had but it was no use for your childhood friend. He also happened to be a knight just like you.

“Y/n...” Oikawa frowned. “Stop trying to hide your face. We have to report back to the Head Queen or else-“

“I’ll be punished. Same old thing Oikawa.” You mumbled walking past him.

As you avoided talking to Oikawa, he felt very sorry for you. How did it come to this? Why did this have to happen? It all started back a month ago. When he, Iwaizumi Hajime was still alive.

——————————-

The days felt more open. Besides being in a current war with another kingdom, everything felt calm. Currently, you were standing besides Iwaizumi while he was discussing some stuff with his mom also known as the Head Queen.

“Hajime. You have to meet up with the King of our rival kingdom and talk about the peace treaty you guys set up.” Iwaizumi’s Mom said. Her voice stern and straight to the point.

Iwaizumi sighed and cupped his face into his hands. “I know I know. When I go, what’s going to happen with my knights? My wife and kid?”

You rolled your eyes when you heard him talk about his wife. The kid was cool because he was fun to have around. You never really have any bad intentions with Iwaizumi’s wife, she just really made you suspicious of her.

Back when you, Iwaizumi, and Oikawa were kids, Iwaizumi’s mom always said that Hajime would be destined to be married to a beautiful girl to keep the bloodline going.

To be honest, you never really wanted him to marry someone else other than you. It’s one of those silly little crushes. Yet, yours seemed to be deeper than those fantasies.

As you, Iwaizumi, and Oikawa got older, Iwaizumi’s Mom always insisted on Hajime to go meet the girl that his mom has found. Apparently she was the “perfect match” but you thought otherwise. Besides your one-sided love, you always were there for your King and of course, his family.

During Iwaizumi’s time with his wife, he happened to have a kid with her. Hayate Iwaizumi was born only a year after the marriage of both Hajime and now Yumi Iwaizumi.

“They will be fine. You have your lead knight who can take care of them just fine” the head queen said averting her gaze at you.

You awkwardly tensed up and waited for Iwaizumi to say something.

“Mom. She isn’t a babysitter. Y/n is my lead knight and shouldn’t leave my side.” He said glancing at you.

The head queen drank her tea then stood up. “Fine. But I shall have only you and y/n go to the peace treaty meeting.”

Iwaizumi stood up and took his leave with you trailing behind. “Fine.” He then walked out of the room.

Before you could leave however, you were stopped by the head queen herself.

“Y/n.” The queen said glaring into your eyes.

“Yes my queen.” You said getting into your stance of respect. (Meaning you stand up straight with your hands behind your back)

“Don’t leave my ignorant son’s side or else you will be punished with hell itself” she spoke. Her voice booming into your ears. It was a threat.

You gulped and bowed. “My main purpose in life is to protect your son. I will give up my life if I have to. Good day my queen.” You said leaving.

As you left, you felt your leg being tugged on. When you looked down to see who was tugging on your leg, you saw Hayate looking back up at you. Currently he is 5 years old and counting.

“Hello there prince Hayate, do I need to call someone to accompany you or are you okay?” You asked ruffling his hair.

Despite not really liking his mom, the best thing she could do was to bring Hayate into the world. Hayate is the next person who you would and could die for.

“Nope! I just wanted to see you” he smiled pressing his cheek on your leg.

You smiled and hugged the kid, not knowing that in a week or two you would have to protect and take care of the last traces of Hajime Iwaizumi.

——————————-

It was the night of when you and Hajime would set out to meet up with the rival kingdom for a simple peace treaty.

As you waited for your king to arrive to the carriage, you started sharpening your swords just in case something went wrong.

“Y/n!” Oikawa yelled in the distance.

You looked up to face him. He was smiling and waving at you.

“Make sure you get back safe” he smiled.

You nodded and waved back. “I won’t let you down Oikawa.”

“Y/n.” You heard Iwaizumi say followed by footsteps. You quickly opened the carriage doors and allowed Hajime to step in first, you followed after.

“My king, Do you need anything?” You asked him.

Iwaizumi nodded his head no and looked out of the carriage window. “I’m sorry for all of this.”

Before you could say anything however, you were cut off by the carriage going past a few bumps on the trail.

~~~

When you both arrived to the rival kingdom, you were the first to get off of the carriage. After that, you help Iwaizumi get out.

“My king. You need to be aware that we are still in war and that this treaty could be averted” you whispered.

Iwaizumi titled his head. “I’m sure nothing will go wrong. Trust me on this y/n” he smiled, he then walked into the castle with you trailing behind him.

When you guys met with the king of the rival kingdom, Iwaizumi ordered you to calm down but the setting and eeriness of the whole mood was bugging. All around the castle beyond the kingdom were maroon and white banners hanging around.

“Please King Iwaizumi, take a seat” the rival king said with his hands covering his face.

“Of course” Iwaizumi replied sitting down.

From the moment you saw Iwaizumi tense up at the rival kings voice, you knew something was up.

“So... we are here for the peace treaty are we not?” The rival said looking right at you.

“Yes we are. Our kingdoms have been clashing since forever now. I’m glad we are settling this the right way” Iwaizumi said

As the two kings were talking, you couldn’t help but notice that the rival kings knights were slowly walking into the same room and circling around both you and Iwaizumi.

“So... Hajime.” The rival king said standing up.

Your eyes twitched at how the rival king used his first name all of a sudden.

“We both know that our kingdoms aren’t very good with... acquaintances” he continued slowly reaching for something.

“Right...” Iwaizumi said slightly moving in his chair.

The knights around you started to move in closer. The tension felt more uneasy. Out of habit, you slowly inched your fingers towards your kept sword.

“Hajime...” the rival king said slowing down his words.

After a second, Iwaizumi answered. “Yes?”

After a whole minute, the king decided to answer back. “Our treaty isn’t going to happen.” He then quickly got out a knife and threw it right towards Iwaizumi’s head.

As fast as you could, you got out your sword and hit the knife away.

“King Iwaizumi, get out of here!” you yelled as you attacked the rival kings knights.

“Y/n I can’t leave you here!” Iwaizumi yelled back as you shielded him from harm.

“Just get out of here! I’ll be fine” you yelled as you finished off the rest of the knights.

Iwaizumi nodded and ran out of the room. When he was gone, you quickly killed the rival knights and went after your king.

When you ran out of the room however, he wasn’t to be seen. So you assumed that he was at the carriage waiting for you.

As fast as you could, you bolted to the carriage in hopes to see your king waiting for you. What you saw however was the opposite. Iwaizumi was sitting on the ground while touching what seemed to be a sword wound. The carriage was nowhere to be seen too.

“My King!” You yelled running up to him. “What happened?! Who did this?!”

Iwaizumi coughed and looked up at you. “He... got me.”

“Who did? The rival king? I swear I’ll kill him if I see him” you said getting out your sword and looked around for any traces.

“No.” Iwaizumi said tugging on your leg.

You looked at him with tears in your eyes. You watched as he lost more blood. Swiftly, you ripped out a peace of cloth from his clothes and put pressure on his wound.

“I won’t let you die! I can’t let you” you said with more tears falling down. “Please stay with me my king!”

Iwaizumi watched as you were breaking down in front of him. It even made him tear up as he saw how sad you looked.

“It won’t stop. Where are the rest of the knights! They should be here by now” you said with a hint of strain in your voice.

Iwaizumi slowly lifted his arm and put his hand on your cheek. With his soft touch, he made circle on your cheek, softly caressing it.

“Y/n...” he whispered.

You looked at him with more tears than ever. Everything around you felt numbing and cold.

He smiled and wiped your tears away with his thumb. “Don’t cry... I hate it when you do that.” He whispered.

You watched as his breathing was hitching. He would also cough up blood.

“Iwaizumi...” you whispered. “I love you to much it hurts. Stay with me!” You confessed.

Iwaizumi’s eyes slightly widened. He then smiled and let his arm drop to the ground. “Y/n... from my bottom of my heart... I’m sorry” he then passed out.

“Y/n!” You heard someone say from the distance.

You looked up to see Oikawa along with Hanamaki and Matsukawa on horses. They wore the same silver armor as you and had their swords out.

“Hurry! Get him back to the kingdom before he’s out!” You yelled.

Matsukawa and Hanamaki quickly grabbed Iwaizumi and put him on the horse. While that was happening Oikawa ran up to you and grabbed your hand.

“We gotta get out of here... now!” He yelled propping you up on his horse. He jumped on after.

Your whole mind was spinning. As you went through the forest to get back to the kingdom, you couldn’t help but worry about your fallen king.

——————————-

It’s been a week since everything. Iwaizumi was in critical condition and barely hanging on to his life. Ever since the news has spread, the citizens in the kingdom have been criticizing you for your efforts in protecting the king and still failing.

Another week passed by and Iwaizumi was still holding on. The village has been gaining hope but you... you felt hopeless for your king.

Just as when you were gonna have your hopes up, one of the maid’s of the Iwaizumi family called you in to see Hajime one last time.

You watched as you saw your king slowly letting go of life. The way his heartbeats stopped and how his family cried.

“Hey... my king...” you whispered. “I thought you’ll be by my side forever... wasn’t that our childhood promise...”

The world felt darker when Iwaizumi passed on. Ever since that day, the head queen has had a burning hatred for you, and so have the citizens of the kingdom. The only people who were there for you were the knights of the whole kingdom.

——————————-

When you returned back from Iwaizumi’s funeral, you were called in by the head queen to “report back” but you knew damn well you would be getting more than a “report back”.

When you arrived to the head queen’s room, you told Oikawa to leave before you could go in.

“Are you sure y/n?” Oikawa said frowning.

“I’m sure. Thank you” your voice monotone.

When Oikawa left, you slowly walked into the room and closed the door behind you. After that, you walked in the middle of the room to face the head queen on her throne.

You stood up straight with respect but the queen wasn’t satisfied.

“Bow to your queen.” She spat, the volume in her voice made the maids in the room shake.

Nevertheless you did as you were told and waited for her command. As you bowed, you heard her footsteps approaching you. It was until you saw her feet in front of you, you received your punishment.

“I told you to stay by his side” the queen said glaring at you. “Yet you got him killed.” She then kicked your head making you groan in pain.

“Stay bowed or else I’ll do more” she said kicking you again. “You’re dishonorable. You failed to protect my only son!” She then kicked you yet again.

As this was happening, the maids in the room cringed at how the queen treated you. The more kicks the queen did, the more pain you felt.

“This is how my son felt as he died. Now you must feel the same pain!” She kicked harshly kicking you away from her.

When you looked up from the wounds she gave you, you saw her eyes. They had tears in them and looked angry, full of fire.

“You’re a failure to the Iwaizumi family as the lead knight.” She said walking up to you and getting down to your level. “Leave.”

You tried getting up but the kicks she gave you made it hard. When you did, you walked out of the room and closed the door behind you.

Before you could do anything, you looked around for anyone, just in case they saw your beat up face. When there was no one, you walked around like normal.

As you walked down the halls of the castle, you noticed how there were portraits hanging up. On the portraits were the kings before Iwaizumi Hajime himself.

As you followed the portraits, you were met with the final one. The final one was Iwaizumi. His face piercing and releasing a terrifying aura yet, it was calming as well.

You respectfully bowed before the picture and got out your sword. It felt like the old days where you would bow in front of his real self. The only difference was that now, he wouldn’t get mad at you.

Iwaizumi never really liked you bowing in front of him. He always treated you like a real human being unlike his peers.

As you stayed bowed, you started crying again. All the pent up emotion poured out without any warning. You had to use your sword to even keep you up.

“I’m sorry... I’m so sorry my king” you said in-between sobs.

From the distance, a lone knight hid behind a wall and listened. His eyes looked down as he saw your crying form.

“Y/n...” Oikawa whispered.

——————————-

When night came, you didn’t dare to face the queen again after what she did to you. For the whole day, you’ve been thinking about one thing and that’s revenge.

Before you could do anything though, Oikawa came up to you to have a chat. He took you away to a place where barely anyone goes to.

“What’s the meaning of this Oikawa?” You asked smiling a bit. “Don’t get me wrong this is a wonderful place”

Oikawa sighed and looked around. “Listen... y/n. What actually happened between you and the Queen.”

Your eyes widened as you now noticed that you were being confronted. You just shook it off with a smile. “Nothing at all why?”

Oikawa scoffed. “Stop lying y/n. You suck at it.”

You opened your eyes to see Oikawa actually being serious. You couldn’t lie to your other best friend. “I’m sorry. She just punished me for my doings”

“Did she kick you again?” Oikawa asked putting his hands on your shoulders. “Did she do it? Like all the other times?”

Your happy expression dropped to a sad one. You slightly nodded and looked away. “She told me to leave without another word. Therefore, I’m going to follow her orders.”

“Are you sure that’s what she meant? For you to be gone?” Oikawa asked letting you go. “I can’t let you go”

You got out your sword and looked at your reflection from it. “This is all my idea. I shall leave the village and reach out for avenging our king and to atone for my wrong doing”

“Let me come with you!” Oikawa said blushing a bit. His voice had determination in it.

You sighed and looked at the ground. “I can’t let you do that. You’re after me when it comes to stats. You will stay here and protect the village for the sake of Iwaizumi”

Oikawa watched as you reached into your knight suit and pulled out a cloak with a hood. The colors of it could blend you into the night.

He then watched as you put it on and walked past him. Before you could leave him in the dust however, you turned around. “Please take care of all the kids I teach... especially Hayate because I know how much he cares about me”

Oikawa nodded with a forced smile, his eyes were glossed up from his incoming tears. “I won’t let you down.”

When you got the reassurance you needed, you were gone without another word. Oikawa has no idea what’s going through your mind, though he really wants to know. Only fate will tell.

[eskalations]

“i’ll carry you home,” royai oneshot

A/N: This is just a short oneshot I wrote while brainstorming ideas for Smoke and Gunpowder. It's not perfect since I wrote it down rather quickly, but I always liked the idea of Riza helping Roy pick up the pieces (emotionally) after Hughes' death. 

Let me know what you think! 

FFN | AO3

Excerpt: Only he would dare call a sniper at such an ungodly hour.

"Hello Elizabeth!"

Riza pulled the phone away from her ear, the bright tone much too chipper for this time of night. It didn't take a genius to deduce who was calling her at such a late hour. It also didn't take a genius to figure out that he was drunk. The letters of her code named were slurred far beyond the that of his usual flirty drawl.

What time is it anyways? Her eyes squinted at the wall clock in the darkness. Through the bleariness of sleep, she could just make out the shape of the little hand on the four. She had to be up in two hours!

Holding in a groan, Riza brought the phone back to her ear.

"Roy?" She asked. There was a bite in her tone, though she didn't think it could be that intimidating with the sleep that still colored her words. Only he would dare call a sniper at such an ungodly hour.

"Of course! How many other men do you have calling you up?" Though it was meant to come off as a jest, she could hear a slight edge in his tone.

"I'm a very busy woman."

He laughed, though there was no real humor behind it. "But I thought I was your most special of customers, dearest Elizabeth?"

"Roy, what exactly is it that you need right now?" She finally asked, glancing down at the foot of her bed where Black Hayate still slept on. Oh, how she wished that could be her right now. "You do realize that you have work in a few hours, correct?"

There was some static being picked up by the receiver. It occurred to her that the connection seemed much too poor to be coming from his home phone line. Where on earth was he? It was this, combined with the fact that he was drunk, that had her stepping out of her bed before he could even answer her question.

There was a long pause.

"Roy?" She asked as she cradled the phone between her ear and shoulder. His heavy breathing on the other end of the line signaled that he was still there. "Where are you? Do I need to come and get you?"

She had already hastily pulled on a black pair of pants by the time he answered her. "The Drunken Ditch."

She stilled. Why was he there?

"I was thinking about him and I just – I don't know. I needed to come here." No more humor was left in his tone, the flirty edge to his words gone.

The Drunken Ditch had been the bar he and Hughes frequented the most during their time together in Central. It went back even further than that though. The hole-in-the-wall bar was just a few blocks down from the Central branch of the Academy. They had been going to that bar since they were recruits. The amount of history the bar had between the two was extensive.

That's what was concerning her.

"Are you there now?" She couldn't hear the hum of voices in the background, meaning he had already removed himself from the establishment prior to calling her. Knowing that her superior officer was probably wandering around Central City drunk and, most likely, emotionally vulnerable, had her dressing even faster.

It took him a moment to answer her. "I'm in the phone booth outside."

She didn't bother mentioning to him that there were many phone booths in that area, it didn't matter. She would check all of them.

"Okay," She put the phone to her ear again, palm sweaty. The bar was only about 10 minutes away from her apartment, she needed to be quick though. With Hughes killer still on the loose, there was no telling who he could run into. "Please stay where you are, sir. I'll be there shortly."

Before she could hang up, the man was speaking again.

"I can't." Riza froze at the fearful rasp in his tone. Black Hayate looked up at her curiously as she gripped the phone closer.

"What do you mean?"

"I can't – I can't stay in here, Lieuuu - Elizabeth. It took me an hour to finally call you." He admitted quietly. On the other side of the line, Riza could almost imagine the man leaning forward against the glass of the booth, his forehead pressed against his hand in defeat. "I just can't do it."

"Sir, will you at least go back to the bar?" Knowing that it wasn't wise to argue with him in this state, Riza chose to give him an alternative. Her Elizabeth persona had long since slipped, so they just had to hope no one was listening.

He was silent again. The pause seemed to drag on forever.

"Yes," He finally conceded, his voice so low that she had to strain to hear.

Then the line went dead.

With that, Riza threw on her shoes and left her apartment – leaving a very confused Hayate in her wake.

Once she came upon The Drunken Ditch, it didn't take her long to find him.

She had walked briskly down the sidewalks of Central, careful to keep her head held low should anyone see her. With her hair down and glasses on, she was usually able to conceal her identity pretty well – but in this part of town, you could never really know who you were going to run into with its proximity to the Academy.

She could feel her heart stutter in relief as she laid eyes on the familiar form of her superior slumped against the wall of an alley next to the bar. In the fading moonlight, one could hardly tell that he was little more than a squatter. From the darkened windows of the building, she could tell they had closed not long before she had arrived.

He didn't notice her at first, his inattention causing a familiar anxiety to rise within her. How could he be so inattentive? Doesn't he know that now is not the time to be letting his guard down?

She was about ready to lecture him, as she stomped over to where he was stationed against the wall, but something stopped her. That something was a bleary pair of dark eyes that spoke of such brokenness they knocked the wind out of her.

How could she kick a man that was already down?

Crossing the remaining distance between them, Riza changed her resolve.

"Elizabeth at your service, sir." Her voice was softer than it had been when they were on the phone, her frustration at being woken up dissolving as she took in his shivering form. "How can I be of assistance?"

His glassy eyes were still trained on her, though he seemed to be looking through her rather than at her. When he heard her voice though, it was like he had been brought back to shore. After a moment of staring, he gave her a weak smile.

"I'm drunk."

"Yes, sir."

"Is the alcohol messing with my brain or are you starting to sound a lot like my lieutenant?"

She gave him a wry grin. Squatting down, she lifted his arm over her shoulders. "It's probably just the alcohol. Although, your lieutenant is a smart woman."

"She is, indeed."

"She's also very understanding." Fishing in his coat pocket, she found the key to his vehicle. Without missing a beat, she nudged him forward. "She knows that it's hard for you to cope right now, but she really wishes you would tell her before you went out like this. Perhaps then, you wouldn't have to go out alone."

"Perhaps," He remarked, tiredly – the booze finally catching up to him. They walked a few steps before he spoke again. "But I also know she's a stickler for the frat rules so she'd probably be scared at how that would look to others."

"She's here right now – is she not?"

Though the sidewalks were empty, there was still a slight chance that they could be seen together. This area was crawling with cadets who would not hesitate to call in any suspicious activities between officers if it meant their chance at a promotion. They were taking a risk, especially with him being drunk – but it was worth it if it meant him getting home safely.

"Yeah." He huffed, the exertion of the short walk getting to him.

His car was parked along the sidewalk two blocks down from the bar. Once she had gotten him seated on the passenger side, she slid into the driver's seat. They both were silent as she inserted the key into the ignition, the vehicle slowly humming to life.

Because the Colonel's home was on the other side of the city, the drive promised to be a long one. Riza knew at this point that there would be no more sleep to be had before tomorrow. Roy, on the other hand, would probably show up to work several hours late, nursing a hangover.

The tired look on her face must have given away her thoughts since it seemed to catch the attention of the Colonel.

"Sorry," Her companion mumbled, his head against the glass of the passenger side window. She schooled her features quickly – they didn't call her the 'Ice Queen' for nothing.

"It's not a problem, sir." She insisted, though it didn't seem to be good enough for him. Sitting up from his slumped position, the drunken man grasped her arm. Riza fought to keep her eyes on the road at his touch.

"It is a problem." He said, squeezing her arm as if to emphasize his point. "It's not fair that I brought you out here this late. Why am I like this?"

"You're grieving, sir." She reminded him gently, shaking his hand off as politely as she could. Though there were no other cars on the road, it seemed like even the shadows had eyes in Central. "You don't have to apologize for being human."

"I don't feel human." He muttered, slouching down in his seat with his eyes trained on the floor. She could smell the residual whiskey on his breath as he sighed. "I feel like I did after Ishval – empty. I feel like life will never be the same again."

"It won't be," She told him honestly. As soldiers, they knew this. They both had come face to face with death too many times not to understand it. "But you have to go on – for his sake."

Roy knew this – but it didn't make it any easier for him to accept.

They had been driving for a while, when his small townhome came into view. Riza breathed a sigh of relief – the street was empty. She needed to get him into the house before the sun began to peak its head over the horizon. Once dawn hit, the cover of night would be on their side no more.

After their conversation, the Colonel had turned his head towards the window. In all honesty, Riza thought he had fallen asleep – but when she went to open the passenger door, he was already climbing out.

"Sir!" She fought to keep her voice down as she raced to angle herself under his arm. With her shoulder now supporting his weight, the Lieutenant grabbed a hold of his wrist to steady him. His body was unnaturally warm and, for the first time that night, she found herself questioning just how much he had drank to still be this drunk.

She was able to get him up the steps easily, but when it came to unlocking his door, she couldn't find the house key. Hoping that it was somewhere in his coat, she began rummaging through his pockets. Roy definitely took notice of this.

"Why Elizabeth," He drawled, much like he had on the phone earlier in the night. She could feel his dark eyes on her. "If you wanted to cop a feel, all you had to do was ask."

Fighting a blush - Hawkeye retrieved the key from his pocket, withdrawing from him to open the door. The man stumbled from the shift, one shoulder colliding with the porch's wall.

"Hey!"

At his exclamation, she hurriedly unlocked the door before pulling him inside. His drunken state had him tripping over the entryway, Hawkeye narrowly saving him from face planting on the hard wood floor.

Riza had only been in his apartment once, but she remembered where most everything was. Choosing to ignore comment from before, she led the man upstairs to where she knew his bedroom resided. She wasn't going to get anymore sleep tonight but she might as well make sure he got some rest – wasn't that what being his adjutant was all about?

While he was in the bathroom, brushing his teeth and readying for bed, she found herself scoping out the kitchen. With one ear peeled for any sounds of distress coming from the washroom, she poured two full bottles of whiskey down the kitchen drain.

Sure, he may have been flirting with her and acting like his normal self again, but she wasn't going to take any chances.

By the time he was done dressing for bed, Riza had returned to his room and pulled down his covers. She hadn't bothered to turn a light on, since the warm rays of dawn were making their way through the window.

Roy's steps were more heavy than clumsy now – his inebriation wearing off while weariness kicked in. A small grunt of thanks was all she received as he fell into bed, hugging a pillow closely to his chest. Riza half expected him to start snoring right there.

Will he even bother to show up to the office today? Probably not.

She was trying to decide whether to take his car or the tram back to her apartment when a warm hand wrapped around her wrist. Looking down at the seemingly sleeping man, she found a bleary pair of eyes staring back at her. The sadness from earlier was still there – however, she could now also see an appreciative glint in his eyes.

"Thank you." He murmured, smiling up at her tiredly. She couldn't fight the smile that appeared on her face as well. "Now how about you join me, my dearest Elizabeth?"

At the flirty quip, Riza scoffed, grabbing one of his side pillows before tossing it at him. Without another word, she was out the door and headed down the stairs. The faint sound of laughter followed her as she made her way to the exit.

Yes, he would be just fine.

[fullmetalscullyy]

a conspiracy theory - chapter 15

co-written by @snowdog49 and @jeanhaavoc

summary: Detective Roy takes on a challenging task… To find Olivier Armstrong’s sword. However, he has a beautiful woman to distract him along the way. Will he, Jean, and Ed be able to find the sword in time, or will they succumb to the conspiracy?

warning: graphic depictions of violence

tags: conspiracy, pining, unresolved sexual tension, private detective au, royai, havolina, mystery, violence, modern au, coffee shops

rated: m | words: 3873

read on ao3

Sunday was sober. Roy spent most of the day in the office, door locked, as he worked through the day. It wasn’t just about corruption and conspiracies. He distracted himself with other cases. He typed up the final report for the printer case and emailed it out to the client. He also finished a stolen identity case that should’ve been closed and emailed a long time ago. He would have taken a nap, but every time his eyes closed, he could only see Jean in the hospital bed. It would go to be unsaid that he also didn’t sleep that night. He knew he needed it. He needed some kind of rest. Maes and he would surprise Senator Marcoh at the senate building, and wait for the federal police to get there. It’d only be a few minutes, but Roy knew the longest minutes were the few. 

Roy put his hands behind his head as his forehead rested on his desk. His eyes shut tightly as he held back the tears that threatened to fall. It was his fault, it was his order to make, and Jean suffered for it. Jean, the man who could stalk anyone, like a shadow in the night. There was no one else Roy trusted for the job, and now he was sleeping off his pain in a hospital bed. Roy's back shook as he began to sob. No amount of money the Armstrong family could offer was worth this. And Jean following Kimblee wasn’t even part of the official paid job. It was what they'd decided to do themselves. No matter how much the police wouldn’t have believed him, he should've tried to give them the case. 

“You never submit yourself to the police,” he heard his mentor in his ear. “Private Detectives are there for cases that can’t be solved.” 

Even if he didn't take the case, it wasn’t like none of this wouldn’t have happened. If anything, he'd deterred the assassination a little longer. He just had to protect Marcoh until the federal police detective offices opened, and Ed could deliver the information. Just until then.

“Just until then,” Roy breathed, taking in a shaky breath. He would make sure that Ed was safe and out of the way, make sure that Riza… Oh no… Riza. The hands on the back of his head squeezed handfuls of his hair. He couldn’t let anything happen to her. He took another breath, deciding to take a moment and collect himself. When he was ready, he’d call her, just to make sure she was okay. 

Roy woke to banging on his office door. He rubbed his eyes, still feeling like shit, but now with a sore back. 

“Let me in,” he heard Edward yell. “I know you’re in there.” 

Roy grumbled. He should be at home, or with his girlfriend, anywhere but at the office. He unlocked the door and opened it slowly. “Go home, Edward.” 

“No,” the blonde man stood his ground. “There are a few more things that can go into that report. I want to look for other email sources for Bradley. I didn’t find an email to Kimblee from the work email, but I’m hoping that I can find a second or a third email source.” 

“You didn’t check this before?” Roy stepped aside to let Edward in. 

“If there's one email pertaining to Marcoh,” Ed stepped through the threshold and quickly walked to his desk. “We can go to the police tonight.” 

Roy shook his head as he shut the door and locked it. “I would much rather turn this all into the federal PD. Maes works for them, and I can trust him. He said we just need enough for an arrest. We have enough on embezzlement alone. Then, from there, the feds can do the rest. I’m not endangering you over another email.” 

Ed waved his hand at Roy. “You’re the one that should go home. You haven’t slept have you?” 

Roy looked away. 

“Seriously.” Ed turned in his chair. “You all think and treat me like a kid, but I’m not. I’m an adult. I’m nineteen, with an associate in computer engineering, and I take care of my little brother. The only reason why I don’t have a bachelor’s degree is because the topic bores me. I’d much rather test out of it all.” He turned back to his computer and typed in his password. “I’m here now, let me play this out for a little bit.” 

“I don’t need you more involved,” Roy said again. 

“I don’t like what happened to Jean anymore -” 

“You have no idea,” Roy growled. 

“No,” Ed turned back to Roy with passion in his eyes. “I don’t. But I’m just as pissed off about it. Jean is a good friend of mine. He’s just as much as a mentor to me as you are! If I have any possibility of putting Solf J. Kimblee in jail faster, you bet my fucking ass I’m going to do it.” 

Roy frowned and trudged back to his desk. There never was any stopping Edward. He sat down at his desk. “When you're done playing around with that, I need you to go over the fraudulent charges case with Mr. Willow. I got an email saying that he’s filing next week. I assured him it’d be in.” 

“Can I use -” 

“Yes,” Roy said, cutting him off. He rubbed the stress lines on his brow. “It’s mostly done. It just needs to be typed out. There’s a form we need to fill, and we can just email that to him.” 

“Whatever you need,” Ed answered, not looking up from his computer screen. 

Roy leaned back in his chair, weaving his fingers together and putting them over his eyes. He took a deep breath. He needed just a little bit of sleep. Just an hour or two. Just enough to be functional. The door was locked, Ed was there, and it was quiet. Just a few hours would do it.

Roy batted his eyes open, looking around. His arms had fallen into his lap and his chin to his chest.  Ed hadn’t moved and was scribbling something onto a piece of paper. There was some light music playing, the K101 radio station. He could smell coffee, and it looked like Ed had a cup already. His mouth felt dry and he cleared his throat, getting up to get a cup of joe himself. 

“You snore,” Ed mumbled. 

“Sorry,” Roy replied softly. “How long was I out?” 

“Long enough for me to order dinner. It should be here in a half an hour.” 

Roy looked at his watch. “Four hours?” He looked at Ed with wide eyes. “You let me sleep for four hours?” His voice was hoarse from the snoring. 

“I didn’t want to wake you,” he shrugged in return. “Also, your buddy Maes called. He said he wanted to make sure you were at the office. He’s going to be coming by here soon to talk to you. I told him I’d take a note, but he insisted on doing it in person.” 

Roy poured himself a cup of coffee with a nod. “Yeah.” 

“I have no more cases open. I did find two more email sources on King Bradley. In one of the trash folder on the server was a receipt for 'services'.” Ed’s fingers made quotation marks. “I’m pretty sure he printed it and put the email in the trash. Another email gave me the address of that meeting place… the Gatekeeper’s hideout. But that was all that was in the email.” 

Roy sat down in his chair and rubbed his face. He stared at his phone for a few seconds before picking up the handle and dialing the number that had been on his mind. He heard it ring, and again, feeling as if time was in slow motion. “Pick up,” he breathed. Ed flashed a look at him before returning back to his work. 

“Hello?” 

“Riza,” Roy breathed. “Are you okay?” 

“Yeah, just sitting here sharing a bag of popcorn with Hayate while watching The Ghost of Fever Hall.” 

Roy sighed. “I just wanted to make sure.” 

“Yeah,” she said again. “What’s going on?” 

“It’s complicated,” Roy tried to answer. “Do you mind if I come over later?” 

“Not at all.” She laughed quietly to herself. “It’s been a long time since I’ve had a man at my apartment…. No Hayate, you don’t count.” He could hear the jingle of Hayate’s collar as Riza pet him. 

“Listen, Jean was shot last night,” he explained. 

“Oh my God! Is-” 

“He’s okay,” Roy said quickly, though it was more so he could hear himself say it again. “I’m just worried about you.” 

“Well… I was going to leave the door unlocked for you, but now I won’t.” She snickered. 

“I don’t think you’re taking this seriously,” he grumbled. 

“Roy, I have a gun, and Hayate, believe it or not, is very protective of me.” 

“I’d still like to come over.” 

“What time?” 

“I’m not sure,” he answered honestly. “Maybe around 10?” 

“I can stay up that late.” 

“Thank you,” he smiled. “Thank you.” 

“If that makes you feel better, then I can do that. Is Jean okay?” 

Roy nodded, although he knew that Riza couldn’t see him. “He’s going to be okay. But it was Kimblee who shot him.” 

She hummed into the phone. 

A knock on the door made Roy’s head shoot up.

“Dinner,” he heard Ed yell. “Finally!” 

“I have to go,” he said reluctantly. “Please call me if anything happens.” 

“I promise.” 

“See you later,” he started to stand up. 

“See you, Roy.” 

“Edward, let me pay,” he insisted as he put the phone down. He rushed to the door, pulling cash out of his wallet. The pizza man reached forward, giving Ed the large box. As soon as the door shut though, Roy locked it again. It humored Roy in a way. The glass wasn’t bulletproof, and it was obvious that they were there. The only thing stopping Kimblee from coming to get him was… nothing. Roy’s gun and holster were by the door anyway, far away from his desk.

“I hope you don’t mind,” Ed grinned ear to ear as he opened the box. “I got every topping under the sun.” 

Roy grabbed two paper plates from the little kitchen area they had and tossed Ed one like a frisbee. Riza was safe, he’d gotten a little sleep, and now he was going to eat. Maybe the situation they were in wasn’t good, but at least he was feeling a bit better. 

“So,” Roy said with his mouth full. “We don’t get to talk to you about your personal life,” he looked at Ed. 

“I like to keep it that way.” 

“How long have you known Winry? I’ve met her once, and we know you take her out. How serious is this relationship?” 

Ed glared at him with cheese hanging from his mouth. After a few moments, and Ed had swallowed the mess of cheese, he answered softly, “we’re high school sweethearts.” He set his pizza down and a gentle smile broke his stern features. “We’ve known each other forever.” 

Roy nodded, seeing a part of Ed that he didn’t even think existed. 

“I really want to ask her to marry me, but I want to actually have a stable job, make something of myself… Prove to her that I’m her guy.” 

“If she’s put up with you that long, I’m pretty sure she’ll say yes.” Roy chuckled and took another bite of his pizza. 

Ed snorted. 

Before Roy could give him any other crap, the door snapped, as if someone was trying to open it. Roy got up and peered through the window to see his friend Maes. 

Maes Hughes had been Roy’s friend all throughout school. They’d known each other almost fifteen years. They’d both joined the police force at the same time, however, Roy had begun to lean more towards working privately, before taking the plunge by himself. He had the experience and had slowly built his detective firm from there. Maes worked himself up, joining the federal police only a few years ago as a detective. He was Roy’s guy for things like this, or even unruly natures that required a little bit of law. He should’ve contacted him to begin with, but when Maes and he talked, Maes insisted he have all his information organized so that there was no questioning about it. 

“Yo, Roy!” Maes greeted far too cheerily for Roy’s liking.

“Maes,” Roy greeted tiredly. 

“Wow,” he guffawed. “You look like shit.”

Edward barked out a laugh from his desk, drawing attention to himself.

“Edward Elric, Detective Maes Hughes. Maes, Ed,” Roy gestured half-heartedly between them as a poor introduction. 

Maes shook Ed’s hand eagerly. “I’ve heard many things about you, Edward. It’s good to finally meet you,” he grinned.

“Same to you, Sir.” Ed was actually polite to the man, making Roy frown at the lack of manners he received.

“Sir?” Maes echoed. “Please, call me Maes,” he laughed. 

“Thanks for coming, Maes,” Roy interrupted. 

“How’s your buddy, Jean?” 

Roy’s shoulders dropped but he chuckled. “He’s loopy and hopped up on painkillers. He’s living his best life.”

“And the injury?”

“Through and through. It was in the shoulder. He’ll need physio, but after that gunshot, he’ll be fine.”

Maes nodded. “Shot.” He exhaled air through his nose in disbelief. 

It wasn’t a question, but Roy nodded and confirmed it. “Yeah. By a hitman,” he added.

“A hitman? Jesus,” Maes commented. He ran his palm over his mouth, cupping his chin. He scratched at his stubble. “What have you gotten yourself into this time?”

“Something involving the rich and powerful, unfortunately.”

“Alright,” Maes sighed in resignation. He sat back in Jean’s chair, making himself comfortable. “Start from the top.”

So, Roy did. He told Maes all about the sword and what it meant in the grand scheme of things. His eyes bugged out wide at the revelation of a secret society. Roy assured him they had evidence of it, gesturing towards Ed. Ed tossed his file over to Maes who looked it over quietly. 

“Wow,” he commented simply, staring at the list. “These are pretty big names on here, Roy.” Maes looked sharply over at him, tone full of worry. “And this was why Jean was shot?”

He nodded. “He was tailing Kimblee, the hitman on Bradley’s payroll, to see if he would enter the building for the meeting. He caught wind of what was happening and approached. Jean was doing surveillance and that’s it.” Some of Roy’s anger at the injustice of it all was beginning to show. He clenched his hands into fists. “He had no reason to shoot Jean, but did it anyway.”

“Okay,” Maes nodded. “Now I know you’re crazy, still going ahead with this,” Maes closed his eyes and shook his head. He removed his glasses and began cleaning them.

“It’s not like we can go to the police though,” Edward interjected, speaking for the first time since Roy had begun to spin their tale. “The police chief is being paid off by the same organization.”

“Yeah, but your lives are more important, Kid,” Maes called over to him. His glasses were perched back on his nose. “Do you want to die for this?” he challenged.

“Ed won’t be involved in this plan,” Roy replied. “Just who do you take me for?” he accused with a frown.

“So, who is involved?”

“Just me.”

“Just you?” Maes snorted doubtfully. “And how exactly are you going to take them down alone?”

“I’m going to make sure Marcoh is alright until this can be properly processed. You, for one, know how long the Federal PD can take their time. They won’t rush until they actually see how important this is. So, I will keep an eye on Marcoh until the police get there.”

“Crazy,” he muttered. “I get your desire to help people, Roy, but a hitman is assigned to your target's books, who has already shot your partner, and you’re still determined to dive headfirst into this mess?”

“Someone’s life is in danger. If I can stop it, I have to try to help them.” Roy gestured over towards Ed. He looked worried, glancing back and forth between Roy and Maes with slumped shoulders. “Ed has a full case here, ready and waiting to go to the right people.” He turned and looked directly at Maes. “You’re the only one I trust with this.”

“Gee, thanks,” he muttered. Sighing heavily, Maes closed his eyes briefly. “Damn you and your philanthropist streak. I always knew that would come back and bite me in the ass someday.”

“You’re just that good of a detective,” Roy smirked.

“And this is my reward? You shouldn’t have,” Maes deadpanned, rolling his eyes.

“Let me tell you what I’m thinking.” Roy leaned forward with a heavy sigh. 

*           *           *

Roy stood, looking at the door of the address Riza gave him. He’d never been to her house, never even thought about going to her house, and honestly, he was a little worried about being there. The last thing he wanted was for Kimblee to follow him. He knocked on the door lightly, turning to look around at his surroundings. It was dark, no one around, but that didn’t mean Roy didn’t look extra hard at the shadows. His arm tightened against his rib, feeling his gun press into his side. He wasn’t going to let anything happen to her. He wasn’t. 

Riza opened the door with a smile. She was wearing sweatpants, her hair pulled up, and a baggy t-shirt. “Roy,” she greeted. “I saved you some dinner.” 

“That’s okay,” he chuckled, as he walked in. “I think I ate enough pizza to rival a college fraternity.” 

She giggled and shut the door behind him. “Well, as you can see, Hayate and I are just fine.” 

Roy looked around. She had a nice apartment; a one-bedroom with a small kitchen and a generous living room. A loveseat and a TV, throw blanket, and two decorative pillows. Everything was clean, including the kitchen area that he could see. She must have cleaned up before he got there. He could smell chicken, and although he’d eaten at 7, he still could use some real food. “I might take a little dinner,” he said sheepishly. 

Riza nodded and took a few long strides to the kitchen. “How’s Jean then?” 

“The guy was drugged off his mind when I last saw him.” 

“Lucky guy,” she called from the kitchen. 

“My thoughts exactly,” Roy laughed. He followed behind her, leaning against the wall as he watched her.

“It’s just chicken and rice with some broccoli,” she said as she threw it in the microwave. 

Roy wondered when the last time he had a real meal was? 

“You look like shit,” she laughed. 

“So I’ve been told,” he chuckled back. Third time was a charm. 

“Sit down and relax. I’ll get some food in you and you’ll feel better in no time.” 

In a matter of minutes, Roy found himself on the couch, eating chicken, rice, and broccoli, Riza sitting next to him as she flipped through the channels. It was a little too unreal for him, especially after the weekend he’d had. Even the conversation was not real to him. She talked easily, reassuring him that Jean would be fine, to how funny Hayate is with his giant stuffed bear. The little dog was curled tightly in his bed by the TV. Maybe it was just him, but as unreal as it was, it felt good. It’d been too long, Roy counted the years in his head since he and his ex broke up, since a girl was sitting next to him in sweats and watching TV with him. It felt… good. 

After he was done eating, Roy stood up to take his plate to the sink but Riza stopped him. She took the plate and without a word, went to the sink where she rinsed it and put it in the dishwasher. 

“You know,” he cleared his throat. “I really think that you should not be here… At your apartment, I mean.” 

“You’re here,” she jested from the kitchen. 

“Let me get you a hotel room for tonight. Somewhere they don’t know where you are.” 

“Roy,” she said as she walked out from the kitchen. “It’s almost midnight. You’re here, and nothing has happened.” 

“He could come at 3 am. The lights aren’t off yet.” 

“You’re worrying too much.” She leaned down at his level and poked his forehead gently. “It’s showing.” 

Roy instantly huffed and waved her hand from his worry lines. “I care about you,” he admitted firmly. 

“I know,” she nodded. “And I care about you too. But I’m going to be fine.” 

Roy looked around and bit his lip nervously. It still wasn’t safe. 

“How about,” Riza said gently as she sat next to him. Placing a hand on his arm, she said, “you just stay with me? I know for a fact that this couch is pretty comfortable.” 

Roy blushed. “No,” he shook his head. “That’s not-” 

“Not what?” She tilted her head to the side. “You’re not sleeping in my bed,” she laughed loudly. “Here,” she stood back up and waved for him to stand up too. 

Roy stood up slowly, raising his eyebrow. 

Her hands carefully ran up his shoulders and Roy felt his body tremble to fall. This was far too intimate for his liking. He already wanted to press her against a wall, make her moan and make her… He shook his head. He wanted to kiss her. Instead, he stood still, frozen in place by her actions. Carefully, she pulled his jacket off, folding it over her arm and placing it on the coffee table. She did the same action to his holster, but this time Roy assisted her, taking the gun out and placing it separately on the table. 

“There,” she whispered, stepping closer to him. “Now take your shoes off.” 

Roy did as he was told, flipping them off and looking back up at her for his new orders. 

Her fingers pressed him to the side, and Roy fell. How he wanted more than anything to pull her on top of him, to feel her sides, to touch her skin -

As he fell, she arranged the pillows underneath his head and grabbed the throw blanket, tossing it over him. It smelled like her.

"There,” she smiled. “You need sleep.” 

Roy couldn't even form words to argue with her. Instead, he felt his body relax completely and his eyes grew heavy with her command. 

“I’ll watch over you,” she patted his knee and turned off the light. He heard her lock the front door and a light whistle for Hayate to follow her. Roy wouldn’t deny that it was a bit awkward, but it was a moment when he could finally let it go and sleep. He took a deep breath in, letting it out slowly and stared at the ceiling. Just a few hours and he’d be okay, right?

[snowdog49]

Stepfather Chapter 6

              Finding an apartment wasn’t the hard part. The hard part was moving into it. He refused to let her help, which started their first argument. Might as well get that out of the way, he thought. After a few more grumps from her, he called Mustang. It was just going to get more and more awkward as he had to ask for help from the father of the baby in the woman that he married. Mustang agreed though, not without giving him a hard time, and made it down to them at the end of the day.

              “You can’t be lifting,” Mustang took Jean’s side.

              She glared at the two of them. “I’m not that far along and I’m not going to be useless!”

              The black-haired general shook his head. “You can take the dishes in and unload them. We got the couch and bed.”

              The bed. He went out of his way to buy a bigger one. He wasn’t sure why except that they were shopping together and it was going to be more awkward buying a small mattress when your newlywed wife was standing beside you. They’d make it work. He and Mustang wiggled it through the doorway and stumbled into the bedroom at the end of the hall. Jean grimaced. He had no idea how the man was okay with toting in a bed that some other man was going to sleep on it, let alone a man with Riza. Jean shook the thought out of his head. Mustang would be growling at any man, let alone Jean, for sleeping with her. Thankfully Mustang didn’t give him a threatening look. The man kept a straight face through it all, helping where he could. However, Jean insisted on putting the bed together later. He wouldn’t ask Mustang to help to build the bed that he’d cuddle her in, kissing her and telling her... Jean needed to get his head out of the gutter.

              “Hawkeye,” Mustang asked as he came from the hallway. “Where do you want the couch?”

              Black Hayate bounced from one end of the area to the next, sniffing out the ends of the apartment.

              She stopped putting the dishes away and looked in the large living room. “I guess on that wall,” she said as she pointed. “I have that plant that can go over there.” She pointed to the other corner. “That looks right, right?”

              Jean came up behind Mustang, watching how the man nodded and put his hands on his hips. Hayate flew by him going towards his owner. He couldn’t help but wonder if this moment was something they had both dreamed about. He walked ahead to go out the door and Jean watched as she followed, a hand touching the middle of Mustang’s back as he passed her. He wasn’t sure what to think. He should have never asked Mustang to help. It would only carve that hurt deeper knowing that they could not have this, could never have it. Maybe that was his fault now? Maybe he had stepped in and took it all away.

              “Havoc! Come help me with this!”

              Jean jumped in his step and hurried out the door, Hayate following him in a bounce. He handed Riza another box before helping Roy with the couch. They wiggled it inside, carefully sailing through the sea of boxes, to the wall that Riza wanted it on. He brushed off his knees and looked around. Mustang instantly went back outside to grab more things and left him to the room again. All of it continued to feel unreal. He needed to get a second bed to sleep in the second room. Heymans had made a good point. They’d be roommates. He rolled his shoulders. A week on the couch had not treated him so well, but it made him more comfortable.

              He had tried to sleep with her. He went to the bed, watched her climb in and face the wall. He didn’t have to cuddle her or hold her, though he wanted to on the inside. All he could imagine was Mustang with her. He couldn’t get it out of his head. He’d be a source of warmth that someone else was supposed to be. The more his head played with him, the more he distanced himself from her. When she was home, he did what he could, and helped her cook, helped her with everything she needed, but when it came time to retire, he settled on the couch. He didn’t even want to touch her. He didn’t want to be a replacement, or viewed as an intruder, even if he felt like one.

              Jean walked out of the house, seeing Mustang pull another box from the little truck they were borrowing. Hayate sat in the back, wagging his tail at the two as if he was helping. “I’m sorry,” he apologized. “I shouldn’t have asked you for help.”

              Mustang set the box down and rolled his shoulders. “What do you mean?”

              “This has to be hard,” he explained. “I can only think that this is what you wanted, and you have to watch me do it.”

              Mustang leaned against the vehicle and sighed loudly. Jean could tell that Mustang was avoiding even bringing it up, let alone talking about it.

              Jean reached into his pocket and pulled out a cig. “It is, isn’t it.” He lit the cig between his lips, taking in a draw. “I’m sorry,” he kicked a small rock on the sidewalk. “I have been feeling bad these last few days.”

              “Don’t be,” Mustang immediately said. “We don’t deserve any of this.” The man waved a circle around the apartment, generalizing the whole scene.

              “That doesn’t mean that you didn’t want it.”

              “No.” He ran his hand through his black hair. “And maybe we did, but we always knew that we couldn’t.”

              Jean took another drag from his cigarette and looked towards the door. Hayate jumped off the back of the truck and wandered on the grass. He watched him sniff around before lazily making his way back inside.

              “What we did… we don’t even deserve your help and love. We surely don’t deserve a child.” He nodded towards the apartment. “To see her happy, even if it’s not with me, makes me feel a little better.”

              Jean breathed in a heavy puff of smoke, letting it sit in his lungs for a second before blowing it out. “Are you telling me that if you ever had the chance of moving in with her and being normal for once-”

              Mustang shook his head. “It’d never happen. You know what we want. You know where I must go, Havoc. If that means that we never have a normal life, we are both ready to accept that.”

              Jean kicked at the sidewalk again, trying to understand the heaviness of the guilt that Mustang held. “Even after the Promised Day though-”

              His friend laughed. “Oh, we are somewhat better because of that. We felt a little redeemed. And our work in Ishval has been rejuvenating, but it would never happen between us. I honestly don’t think we’d ever get married even if we stepped down.”

              “Really?”

              He nodded.

              Jean chewed on his lip for a moment, tasting the tobacco. “And you can so easily talk about it?”

              Mustang took a deep breath before nodding. “It’s not easy,” he breathed. “It’s not. Hawkeye has been by my side long enough, I think it’s time for her to know happiness.” He picked up a box and walked back into the apartment.

              Jean watched his back while he finished his smoke break. He’d always supported Mustang, followed him without a second guess. Even now as he worked in intelligence, he did it to help Mustang. The man has serious ideals, a concrete vision, and was willing to make sacrifices to make it possible. Jean was sure that they did feel some vindication from the Promised Day, that his self-hate had lessened. It didn’t change the fact that he wanted democracy, and he wanted a fair world without war. A lot had changed, and Mustang was looking to change it more. The man was always dreaming.

              Jean put out his cigarette, rubbing it out on the sole of his shoe before tossing it into a trash can on the sidewalk. He walked slowly to pick up the last box. He had a duty to Mustang. He needed to fulfill it through Riza. It didn’t stop him from thinking though. If they never deserved normality, then why did she get pregnant? Why risk it all? Did she, or he, think that they could make it work? There was no reasonable way they weren’t feeling the heaviness of it all inside themselves. It didn’t matter what Roy said about not deserving it, there was still emotion that was being felt.

              He carried the box in to see Mustang taking a cookie from Riza. “I’m out of here,” he announced. “I better get the truck back. Anything else you two need? I don’t want to have to come back because Havoc can’t boil water.” He leaned down to scratch Hayate behind the ear.

              “Har har,” Jean glared.

              “I think we are good,” Riza nodded, looking over the space. “Come on, I will walk you out.”

              Jean let them, not even bothering to follow. Instead, he went to open another box to see it had several books in it. It looked like old journals and a few alchemic books. Riza wasn’t an alchemist, but the few talks that they had, he knew her father was. This must have been his. He opened a journal, looking at the scribbles or words, barely legible, and a few drawings of circles. He put the journal on the floor and picked up another one. The handwriting was different as were the circles. Jean wished he understood it. He set that journal on the floor next to the previous one and started shuffling through the books. Not one book in the box was some mystery novel. They were all on alchemy.

              “What are you looking through?”

              Jean looked over his shoulder as Riza came and kneeled next to him. Hayate sat next to her, looking into the box curiously.

              “What are these?”

              “My fathers,” she confirmed his thoughts. “I sold and burned just about everything of his. This is all that is left.” She picked up the journal, her fingers delicately floating over the top. Her dog sniffed at it, cocking his head with curiosity.

              “Why?”

              She set it down to reach into the box for a book. “Well… You know that Roy learned flame alchemy from him.”

              Jean nodded. They’d talked about it.

              “The most important ones were burned, but Roy keeps these for references and whatnot.”

              “Why do you keep them?” Jean pulled out a book and scanned through the pages.

              “I’m the protector of the secrets.” She said it so simply, so nonchalant, that it was clear that she had accepted her duty long ago.

              He processed her words as she put the journals and things in the box. She pulled the book from his fingers to place it carefully on top and closed the box. There was more to Riza than he would ever know or understand. Mustang understood. Mustang knew exactly what everything was.

              “Sometimes he needs them for references.”

              “Do you keep his journals?” Jean watched as she picked up the box and walked back to the spare room.

              “Some,” she confirmed. “I seem to guard everyone’s secrets.”

              Jean stood up, following her. He leaned in the doorway, watching her shove it in the closet.

              “It all really should be destroyed, but it’s mostly useless without me.”

              “You can read it?”

              She shook her head. “No.”

              “Do you understand it?”

              She shook her head again. Her hand lingered on the box for a second more. “I kind of understand Mustang’s journals. I know his code.”

              Jean’s jaw dropped. “You know his code?”

              She laughed. “Oh yeah. I told him I needed to know if to be sure that it wasn’t easy enough to give away our secret.”

              Jean scratched his head, feeling that his hair was greasy. He needed to shower. The topic lingered in the air and he felt the need to move towards a lighter subject. “What do you want for dinner,” he asked. “I can go get something if you want to unpack.” He didn't want to be in her way while unpacking. He was in her way while she boxed a few things and she was quick to tell him so.

              “I’m so hungry,” she laughed as she entered the kitchen, holding her stomach. “This little monster won’t let me eat.” She’d been eating mostly toast. It was easy to puke. Soup went down easy, and so did yogurt. He had been making mental notes of what she could and couldn’t eat. Although she had been craving fries and even chicken, it wasn’t in the cards. She was stuck with small amounts of carbs and dairy.

              “Let me go get a few groceries. Do you want anything in particular?” He grabbed his jacket by the door.

              “Would you mind if you stopped and got me something sweet from the creamery?”

              He nodded. He’d get a few yogurts too.

              As he grabbed the keys to her car, he patted his side to bring Hayate to follow him out. He’d take the dog with him for a car ride. Then he heard her gag. He turned sharply to see her dash to the bathroom, nearly tripping over the Shiba Inu. If it hurt to see her not be able to eat, it hurt more to see her throw up on an empty stomach, at the mere thought of food. There was nothing but retching. He followed her quickly to see her holding the toilet bowl, spitting what little was in her stomach into the bowl. He hurried to find a box with some towels in it. It was like every box they had brought in was missing towels. He remembered packing them. Still, his hands hurried as he heard her choking again. He ripped open the third to last box and grabbed one. With long strides, he returned to her side. He leaned over, handing it to her. Her face was red and her cheeks looked sunken.

              “Thanks,” she whispered, holding it to her face. “Maybe not sweets,” she laughed behind the towel.

              “I will get you whatever you want,” he assured. He rubbed her back with wide circles as he waited for her to catch her breath. He didn’t want to leave her. He was afraid she’d be alone, huddled in the bathroom, needing just a simple touch on her back. He looked up and out the door. Shouldn’t Mustang be doing it? Shouldn’t Mustang be there to comfort her? Black Hayate peeked his head in, looking concerned. He patted his leg and the dog came to lay down next to him.

              Then he remembered what Mustang had said. It was his turn to take care of her. So, Jean stayed. He sat down on the ground, rubbing her back as she hurled again, both wishing there was something to throw up. His head fell back against the wall and he prayed it would stop. He prayed that her breathing would return to normal and that she could stop fighting to hold things down. As he sighed, a head fell onto his shoulder. He looked next to him and Riza was wiping her face as she leaned against him. He didn’t say anything. Neither had to. They sat on the cold tile, just listening to the silence, smelling the leftover bile in the toilet. He wiggled his arm further around her, pulling her close against him as he pressed a kiss to the top of her head. It might not be what Mustang would do, but it was what he could do.

              Jean stopped and got her some sesame noodles, something she strangely could eat and they were held down. She didn’t puke again. Drinking a glass of milk with the food seemed to lessen the anger of the baby inside her. He finished putting things away as she did dishes, each quietly working. The radio played softly in the background. The day just seemed to settle. It’d been mostly quiet between them, both unknowing what to say. He could feel the uneasiness of the silence but was unsure what to bring up either. Instead, he’d pat her back as he passed by her, and she’d smile her gratitude for being there. Jean knew that she did appreciate him. She could have done all this on her own, no doubt, but she was thankful she didn’t have to. It made him feel better because he could do that. Wasn’t that part of the plan to begin with?

              They made their way to the bedroom, putting the bed frame together, and the mattress on top. He could see she was getting tired in her slow movements. Her legs and arms seemed to drag as they handed him this or that, holding the bar up for him to screw into the holes. He heard her heavy sigh as they positioned the mattress on top. She’d never been one to be out of shape, let alone exhaling such a sigh to indicate her being tired. For as neat of a person as she was, she didn’t do the sheets as crisp as she did the ones on his bed. Riza instead put them on just enough to be called a bed. He put the warm comforter on top, pulling it center before following her to the living room. Their home was almost ready to be lived in. It just needed a few more things and a little love. Jean was willing to do that.

              “I’m going to go get in the shower,” he announced. “If you have to puke, you better do it now.”

              Riza instantly started to laugh. “I will let the baby know that, thanks.”

              He grinned. “Is there anything I can help you with before I go?” He watched as Hayate scratched his face before settling down in his bed. He liked dogs to begin with, but Hayate was an exceptional canine. He was falling in love with the dog.

              She shook her head. “No, I will finish this up and rest for a bit. I know it’s early but I’m feeling tired. I also have to work tomorrow. The general left some papers for me to do. I’m still thinking of going in. I’m sure they need my help there.”

              “Yeah,” he nodded slowly, looking away from her. “I have to do some rounds.” Since they had talked about Riza and Jean being married, word of him leaving Central was dismissed. He wasn’t going to get sent south anytime soon. He reached down into the towel box and pulled up a bright white towel. “If you need me, just call.” He turned and walked into the bathroom. It was funny to him because he’d grown so quickly to listen. He listened before. He’d heard people sneaking up on them, twigs cracking, or the light shuffling of foliage. He’d even heard the breath of people while waiting outside a door before a raid. This time it was a constant need to listen for her. It wasn’t something he was turning on and off. It was constant.

              She turned the radio up, and for a minute he thought he heard her humming, but the shower drowned out most of the noise. The hot steam was also a tension release for him. So much had transpired that he had he actually needed to think about it. He needed to process what Mustang had said to him, what Riza had said to him, and how he felt about it all. Jean sighed. He needed at least two cigarettes too. Maybe after she went to bed, he and Hayate would go out and he would have one last smoke before going to his spot on the couch.

              Her devotion to Mustang was unfathomable. The two of them had been married in a sense long before Jean was ever in the picture. He had to wonder if he’d ever mean that much to her or if he’d just be the one that stepped in to help? The worst part is that Mustang knew what he meant in the equation. He knew that he meant everything to her, and he still separated himself from it. He needed to. Riza wouldn’t let him take the fall for her, even though a pregnancy was proof of a drastic slip-up.

              He got out of the shower, putting on some grey sweats and a t-shirt to go out in the living room. She was laying down, with his mother’s quilt over her. A mystery book lay next to her, giving clear evidence that she did try to stay awake. He stood over her, watching her sleep so peacefully. It wasn’t something he normally saw considering that he had spent the last week sleeping on the couch. Though the door was always left open, he never went in there. Furthermore, she was always awake first with her herbal tea.

              Without a second thought, he reached down and picked her up. She stirred but didn’t say anything and Hayate just raised his head to acknowledge the movement. She just remained there while he carefully made his way to the bedroom. He pulled back the sheets with his finger, gently placing her in, and covering her with the comforter. She curled up, her back towards him. He watched for a second, seeing her breathing leveled out. Another thing he never in his lifetime thought he would do; carry Riza Hawkeye to bed.

              Jean sighed as he walked back out. He turned off the light, making sure the rest of the apartment was ready for bed, then moved himself to the couch. He watched as Hayate got up, circled back in the bed again, and yawned. Jean yawned. He laid down, pulling the quilt up to his waist, putting his arms behind his head as he looked up at the ceiling. He should have just broken down and got the spare room a bed. Maybe he’d do that next paycheck. He’d just break down and do it. The couch was killing his back. Maybe he was getting too old for this kind of antics. Jean closed his eyes, listening to the people above them walk around.

              “Jean?”

              He opened his eye, hearing the bed creak. He listened as she walked out and into the living room. She leaned against the doorframe and sighed. “It’s hard for me to sleep knowing you are out here.”

              He frowned.

              “You don’t even have to touch me if you don’t want to.”

              It wasn’t that he didn’t want to. It was that ….

              “Just come to bed. I think it’s ridiculous.”

              He sighed. “It’s…”

              “I know what it is,” she argued quietly. “But I’m tired of hearing you groan in the morning.”

              He sat up, scratching his cheek nervously.

              “I promise I won’t touch you.” She waved her head. “Just come get some decent sleep. You bought a big bed, use it.”

              He stood up. They could be roommates and sleep in the same bed right? He scoffed at himself. That was a joke. He didn’t want to be roommates. His body screamed for him to be something more to her. Where the feelings and desires ever came from was, and would be a forever, mystery to him. Though he had read that a pregnant woman can just make men aroused, he couldn’t determine if that was the case or not. “Fine,” he relented.

              They crawled into the bed, her curling up away from him. He laid on his back, his hands on his stomach, still listening to the neighbors above them. They weren’t loud, thankfully. He turned to look next to him, listening to her lightly snore. His fingers tingled as he remembered feeling her back, her head on his shoulder. It felt nice. He smiled. It felt really nice.

              Jean turned on his side, his head resting on his arm. He looked at her, reaching out carefully to rest his hand on her side. She hummed quietly, wiggling under his hand. Could she be thinking of Mustang and his fingers on her side?

              “Thank you, Jean,” she whispered into the darkness.

              He smiled and exhaled quietly through his nose. No. She knew it was him. There he was, distancing himself from her out of fear that she didn’t want him when all she wanted was his comfort to begin with. He slid forward, pulling her slowly into his chest. With a hand on her side, he closed his eyes. It wasn’t as bad as he thought.

[voltage-scenarios-and-hcs]

It feels like ages since I’ve thought about Pirates in Love!

I’ll be addressing them by their original English (pre-Captains’ Cut) names since that’s what I’m most familiar with.

PIL Characters Reaction to MC Having Ice Powers

The sound of swords clanging together rang throughout the air as you ducked behind a pair of barrels on the deck, narrowly avoiding a haphazard swing from the person looming above you.

The Sirius had been taken by surprise by a new enemy who had boarded the ship with alarming efficiency, and you could feel your heartbeat racing as you watched your boyfriend fighting courageously in the crowd.

Squeezing your hands to stop them from trembling, you focus your breathing as you make your way around the deck, trying to stay out of the way of the fighting.

You could feel your fingers tingling, a thin layer of frost developing over your skin. You bit down on your lip, hard, trying to dampen the magic that was screaming to be let go from your body.

It was why you were banished from your home originally; why you had to leave everything you knew behind. You only knew your magic as something terrible, something to be hidden away.

You couldn’t lose the family you had now, and if it meant hiding this part of you away forever, you were prepared to do that.

What you weren’t prepared for, however, was the sight of a pirate approaching your boyfriend from his back, arm held high as he prepared to swing down his sword.

You could feel your lips opening, your voice forming into a scream as you tried to react, tried to get him to turn, to do anything-

But you were too far away, and you knew that it would be too late for him to react.

It was at that moment that you felt the sparks of magic tingling across your skin, your arm shooting out as you watched your powers fly from your grasp.

Hayate/Russell

“RUSSELL!”

Your scream is drowned out by the sound of ice rapidly materializing between him and the pirate approaching from the back.

A sheer wall of ice had shot up between the two, the man’s sword breaking off into two as it slammed into the frozen structure.

It had given Russell the brief respite that he needed as he whirled around, knocking the other swordsman out with a whack to the head.

You could see the question in his eyes as he turned to look at you, but you shook your head-there would be time for that later.

The sudden appearance of ice in the battlefield turned the tides quickly in your favor, and soon the Sirius had reigned triumphant as Eduardo navigated the ship away from the scene.

Russell had walked towards you, taking long strides as he tossed his blades aside, gripping your arms tightly. “_____!”

You squeezed your eyes closed, your entire body trembling. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry-“

“What are you sorry about?!” Russell’s hands moved upwards as he cupped your face in his hands. “I’m asking if you’re alright, _____!”

“I-I’m okay…” You whisper, startled by his question. You were ready for him to scream, to yell, to call you a monster. Instead, his question brought tears to your eyes as your vision blurred.

“That’s all that matters. Obviously, I have questions. But you saved my life, _____. We can worry about the rest later.” Ignoring the stares from the other members, Russell abandons his usual embarrassment as he hugs you close. “Thank you.”

Shin/Eduardo

Icicles rain like bullets from above the pirate, knocking him to the ground as Eduardo spins around, shooting the sword out of his hand.

Your hand trembles as you wave your arm back, cutting off the icicles as they fall limply to the ground, trapping the man where he lays, unconscious.

You refuse to meet Eduardo’s eyes as the fighting clears, and you still can’t find any words to say as the crew starts putting things back into their places, preparing to return to your original path.

Eduardo is quiet as he reaches out for your hand, tugging you along with him as he takes his place behind the wheel of the ship.

“_____, was that you?”

“…Yes.” You whisper. Eduardo’s fingers grip your chin gently as he tilts your face upwards, forcing your gaze to meet his.

His eyes are warm, not filled with terror or disgust like you were fearing. You feel your body slacken in relief as he leans in, kissing your forehead.

“You’re always surprising me, _____.” He murmurs. “I’ll be ready to listen whenever you want to talk.”

Soshi/Christopher

Your desperate cry along with your powers were enough to freeze the pirate momentarily in time, giving Christopher enough room to step out of the way of danger before he pokes the man in the neck, immediately knocking him unconscious.

The sudden use of your powers after holding back for so long makes you dizzy as you stumble, grasping onto nothing but air as you brace yourself for impact.

Instead, you’re met with strong arms as they support you, and you can immediately tell that it’s Christopher who’s holding onto you tightly, lowering you down to the deck slowly.

“Christopher, I-“

“Shh, _____.” Christopher shushes you, pressing his finger to your lips as his brow furrows with worry. “Are you feeling ok? Does anything look blurry?”

You shake your head. “I’m sorry, I never told you, but-“

“You’re something special, _____.” Christopher’s smile is warm and comforting as he looks down at you as the fighting starts to die down. “Right now, I’m just glad that we’re both okay.”

Tears of relief slip from your eyes as you nod, your fingers gripping onto his shirt tightly. “I promise I’ll tell you everything…I’m so sorry for hiding something like this.”

“I’m sure you have your reasons.” A warm hand rests itself on your head as you sob into Christopher’s shirt. “No matter what, I love you.”

Nagi/Nathan

A wave of ice literally topples the man approaching Nathan from behind, knocking him unconscious as he falls onto the deck of the ship.

The feeling of cold is still in the tips of your fingers as you hastily withdraw your hands, a feeling of dread spreading over you as you realized that Nathan had seen exactly what you did.

There was no way you could talk yourself out of that. He knew. He knew.

Your mind was racing as you turned and ran, ignoring Nathan’s shouts of your name as you escaped inside the cabin, curling into a ball as you rocked yourself against the wall, unable to stop the way your breathing was growing faster and faster.

You weren’t sure what had happened afterwards, but it’s Nathan’s arms around your body and his hands rubbing your back that brings you to the present.

“_____. Stay with me.” Nathan is calling your name repeatedly as you numbly nod your head in response. “I’m not quite sure what that was, but it was something.”

“…You don’t think I’m a monster?” You whisper, so soft that you weren’t sure if you had actually spoken the words.

“Why would I think that?” Nathan tsks, pinching your cheeks. “Now I can finally try out some new recipes since I know just who to go to for when I need things cooled down.”

“I-I’m not an ice box!” You retort, your cheeks puffing up in annoyance.

Nathan just laughs in response. “Your face looks too funny, _____.”

Towa/Thomas

Ice crystalizes around the pirate’s wrists, holding him captive as his swords falls uselessly to the ground. With a wave of your arm, it sends him crashing into the side of the deck, and your heart skips a beat in relief as he falls unconscious.

“Thomas…!”

Your heart feels like it’s frozen in your chest as you see Thomas slip, just barely managing to catch himself at the last minute. Oh god, you’d almost hurt him, too.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry!” You find yourself repeating as you feel the panic rising in your chest. “I didn’t mean it, I swear, please-“

“_____!”

You’re jolted out of your thoughts, caramel-colored eyes flooding your vision as Thomas pushes his forehead against yours. “I’m alright. I’m fine. You didn’t hurt me, I was just surprised!”

“But I could have. I could have hurt you, so easily.” The sight of Thomas falling replays itself in your mind in a never-ending loop. “I don’t want to hurt you…!”

“You’re not going to hurt me! I’m tough!” Wrapping his arms around you, he squeezes you tight and you can feel the strength in his powerful grip. “_____, are you okay?”

“You’re the one who almost got hurt, and you’re asking me if I’m okay?” Squeezing him back, your heart swells at the amount of love you have for the precious being in your arms. “All I need is you…”

“You have me. You’ll always have me, _____.”

Ryuga/Morgan

“Captain…!”

Ice erupts at your feet, carrying you forward as you manage to push Morgan out of the way at the last moment. However, you’re not fast enough to avoid the pirate’s sword as it grazes you, leaving behind a thin cut on your arm.

Morgan’s response is quick as he rights himself on his feet, knocking the man out of the way before he sweeps you up in his arms. “_____!”

The cut stings, but you’re too fired up with adrenaline to pay much attention. “I’m okay, I’m-“

“What are you doing, _____!” Morgan’s normally cheerful demeanor is replaced by one of extreme worry as he looks at you, his movements becoming even faster as he knocks anyone who gets close to you out of the way.

He saw it, he saw your powers. And you had no way of taking it back.

“I-I’m sorry for hiding it, I swear I’m not going to hurt you!” You manage to say, trembling in fear as you wait for Morgan’s response. Would he yell? Would he throw you off the boat at the next port?

“The hell are you talking about?!” Morgan grabs you as the others start beating the enemies back, his arms wrapping protectively around your form. “I’m asking if you’re okay!”

“It’s just a cut, I’ll be fine-“

“And I’m supposed to protect you.” Morgan rips off a piece of the sleeve from his shirt before he takes your arm, wrapping the makeshift bandage quickly around your cut. “Don’t go stopping this old man’s heart, ______.”

“I couldn’t see you get hurt.”

“It’s the same for me, _____.” His voice is warm and comforting as he holds you close, lips brushing against your ear. “You don’t even need to be scared. I’ll protect you, no matter what.”

Roy/Alan

“My dear _____!”

Alan crashes into you, not even waiting for the Rika to stop moving before he leaps from the deck and onto the Sirius. “Are you hurt? I couldn’t bear if anything happened to my darling pearl…!”

“Alan…” You wheeze, as the Captain of the Rika had very literally knocked all the breath from your body. “D-Did you see…”

“I saw it!! You had ice coming out of your fingers, _____!”

You struggle to get out of his grip once you hear his response. “Alan, please, just let me explain…!”

“IT WAS SO AWESOME!!”

“W-What?”

“My _____ is so talented and so awesome!” Alan sings, his eyes bright and mouth wide in an excited smile. “You’ll have to show me more!!”

“You’re not…scared of me?” You ask, not quite believing what you were hearing.

“Huh? Scared?” Alan huffs in annoyance. “Like the great Captain of the Rika would be scared of anything!”

“…Alan…!” You burst out into tears as you hug him, ignoring his yelp of surprise.

“P-Pearl, hold on, everyone’s watching…!”

[unladielike]

they’re on a date, your honour.

( some bad picrew edits i made of vivian and @spiritpyro’s hayate.. with a random cat in the bg that isn’t bugsby following them around, lmfao. )

[writer-and-artist27]

Birthday Wish

Note: In honor of Obito’s birthday on February 10th, a small drabble. I’d like to think this takes place in the unmentioned time-skip between S&S 23 and 24. So right before Kannabi drama.

Inspired by some of the ASMR I’ve been listening to for studying/relaxing purposes. The song I recommend for this small thing is an ending from Mermaid Melody, my childhood anime. I’ll just link the piano version here since otherwise, listening to the actual song is going to make the ace in me go into an embarrassed fit from how the composers decided to put kiss noises into an otherwise cute song. Aah. If you want to still hear the original song, then don’t say I didn’t warn you. It is from an early 2000s shoujo anime. 

Still. Go on and enjoy. 

Kei’s here because @langwrites/Lang’s been a grounding rock when bad bad midterms punched me in the face to the point of being incoherent to Leo. So there. She’s a friend I can’t stop being grateful for.

This takes place on the same couch shown in this oneshot.

--------------------------------------

Tap tap. 

Obito slowly opened his eyes with a groan, the fuzzy feeling in his right ear having faded for cool air. What touched his shoulder?

“Obi,” Tomo-chan’s voice echoed softly above his head and he shifted, barely registering the gentle chiding in her words. If he didn’t know any better, it sounded like she had just finished singing. Still, she tapped his shoulder again. Tap tap. “I can’t work on your other ear if you just lie there half-asleep.” 

“Fiiiiine,” he mumbled, rolling over to face the other way. It took a moment to realize that his nose was mere centimeters away from Tomo-chan’s stomach and he felt his heart skip a beat. When did the air smell sweet? Was it the laundry detergent from her skirt? “I-Is this good?”

“Aye.” There was a thoughtful hum above his head, signalling that Tomo-chan was smiling. “Actually, wait. Give me a moment.” A hand was touching the back of his head now, rustling his hair and Obito stayed as still as possible as Tomo-chan proceeded to gently nudge him towards lying on her knees. It only took a second for Tomo-chan to let go. He then heard a small, “There we go,” before the bamboo stick was gently poking around in his left ear. “Just tell me if it hurts, Obi.”

“Sureeee…” Obito tried not to yawn, but he never thought he’d see the day ear cleaning could be relaxing. Then again, this was Tomo-chan. She somehow made things lighter, brighter, all of that sunshine stuff. It was really hard to refuse her when she came up to him with the sparkly eyes about trying something new for his 13th birthday.

Scritch, scritch, scritch, the stick went. 

Huh. Now that he thought about it…

“Tomo-chan?” 

“Muu?” 

“Who taught you this stuff?” Obito held back the urge to shift, closing his eyes and exhaling in content as soon as the fluffy cotton puff started swabbing at the outer lobe of his left ear. “I don’t think Rin did…” He peeked out from under his eyelids to look at his only other teammate in close vicinity and Kei glanced up from her book with a crooked smirk. “Kei?”

“Don’t look at me,” she said innocently, shrugging her shoulders. “This was all Tomo’s idea.”

“Yes and no, actually.” A nervous giggle echoed above his ear and Obito blinked to see Tomo-chan’s short hair bob in the air as she breathed, inclining her head to look down at him. “I had the idea, sure, but Mama taught me everything. I don’t know where she learned how to do it, but she was really good at it. I think I’m alright, but if I mess up—”

“You’re fine, Tomo,” Kei interrupted, a snicker in her voice. “It looks like Obito’s going to melt any second now.”

“I-I’m not!” 

The fuzzy ball of cotton prodded at the inside of his ear in a soft brushing gesture and Obito paused. Then again… 

“Hee hee.” Tomo-chan giggled, her other hand gently stroking the top of his hair as she continued cleaning whatever was in there. “As long as you’re enjoying the ear cleaning, Obi, then my job’s good.”

Obito was tempted to roll his eyes, but opted to close them instead, choosing to ignore Kei’s nearby snickering. Tomo-chan seemed happy too, so he wasn’t going to complain. He could take a nap like this. Maybe. 

Scritch, scritch, scritch, the ear cleaner added. 

“…Neh, Obi?” 

Obito blinked the sleep away from his eyes for the second time, considering his options before slowly shifting from his place in Tomo-chan’s lap to look up at her. It took some effort to deftly avoid the ear cleaner in her hand. “What is it, Tomo-chan?”

Tomo-chan blinked, a surprised pink covering her nose before she puffed her colored cheeks in protest. “You didn’t have to move over to see my face, Obi. There’s nothing here and I was still in the middle of getting something.”

“Heh, sorry,” Obito grinned anyways. She was close enough for him to hear her breathing. “Still, what’s up?”

Obito did not miss how Kei slowly closed her book to pay attention.

Tomo-chan blinked slowly at him, the flush on her cheeks fading for a thoughtful look. “Mm, how to put this?” She closed her eyes and laughed softly. “I was just thinking, ‘What would Obi want for his next birthday?’ Since this is the best I can give right now, this year.”

Obito glanced at Kei from his vantage point on Tomo-chan’s lap. Kei gave him a single look back, shrugging this time in her usual “You handle this” way. 

Well then.

Obito closed his eyes, put a hand to his heart, and went with his gut. 

“I’d just like to be with everyone forever.”

As small as it was, Tomo-chan flinched. “…Fweh?” 

“It’s because the war’s still going on, y’know? And I know I like being in Konoha, with Sensei, with Kushina-san, with Rin-chan, with Kei, with Hayate, with Miyako-san and Wataru-san, with Hikari-bachan and Judai-jichan, with everyone here — hell!” Obito barked a laugh. “I can tolerate Kakashi!” 

Tomo-chan had gone completely silent.

Obito had no clue if he had messed up or just scared her with his honesty, but he went on anyways, reaching over with his other arm to pat her head. At least, pat her head as much as he could considering he was still laying in her lap. 

“But hey.” A smile tugged at his lips. “I know that for my next birthday, I just want to be here with you again, Tomo-chan.”

He was not expecting something wet to fall into his hair.

“Tomo?” Kei already sounded alert as soon as Obito blinked his eyes open and Tomo-chan was shaking her head. 

“I-I’m okay, I’m okay, I’m okay,” she squeaked, her free hand covering her eyes as her shoulders shook. “I-I just, I just,” there was a little hitch in her voice that otherwise wasn’t there before. “I wasn’t expecting that.” Tomo-chan then pulled her hand away, revealing warm blue eyes rimmed with a little red. “Y-You really mean that, Obi?”

Oh. 

He immediately sat up on the couch, ignoring any urge to sleep to instead wrap an arm around her in a hug. There was no mistaking the shock, the unspoken hurt in those blue eyes. A friend needed comfort, now. “Of course I do!”

Kei had joined into the hug too with an arm around them both, book left back on the couch cushions. “We all know about Obito’s Chronic Hero Syndrome, Tomo,” she said soothingly, reaching up to pat Tomo-chan’s hair. “But you don’t have anything to worry about. I’ll keep him in line.”

“Oi. I’m not chopped liver, Kei!” 

Kei stuck her tongue out at him over Tomo-chan’s head. 

Tomo-chan meanwhile glanced between the both of them before letting out a small, teary laugh. “I-I hope so. I really really hope so.” Her arms wound around them both as she smiled. “I’d like to be with everyone forever too.”

Kei didn’t say anything after that, merely opting to gently bonk the crown of Tomo-chan’s hair with her chin. 

Obito hugged Tomo-chan harder after that instead, asking the question to drive off the small bit of desperation leaking into his voice. “Do you still want to finish the ear cleaning, Tomo-chan? Just to distract you?”

“I-I’d like that.” There was a pause. “There’s no luck in me asking if you two could forget that I was about to cry, huh?”

“Nope.”

Kei bonked Tomo-chan’s head with her chin again. “Nada. Deal with it.”

Tomo-chan laughed, sounding a bit more like her happy sparkly self again. “Dorks.” 

Obito held back a sigh. “We’re your dorks, Tomo-chan. We’ll always be.”

That was how it was going to be. That’s how it’s supposed to be. Obito wanted it to stay that way. 

Nothing pained him more than to see one of his precious people close to crying on his birthday.

Never again. 

The war had to end sooner or later. Else he’d throw hands.

[writing-royza]

Tainted Blood, Tainted Soul: Chapter Thirteen - Moving Forward

A/N: Happy Wednesday, everyone! Just doing a quick drop in this week; its been a busy week, and I ought to get to bed. I apologize for the extreme lateness; there have been some nasty issues with posting. The usual warnings apply. Enjoy!

I do not own FMA.

Chapter Thirteen - Moving Forward

27 WHEELER STREET, EAST CITY

0912 HOURS, APRIL 17

It caused her a brief moment of panic, to ease her eyes open and find his half of the bed empty. Riza sat bolt upright, feeling her stomach clench with sudden worry — no, call it what it is: fear — for him, then relaxed again as she caught sight of his pajama pants folded on a chair to one side of the room.

Jumping at shadows again, she chided herself gently. You spent six months doing that with Pride; don't start again now.

Slipping from underneath the sheets, she noted the absence of Hayate as she padded near-silently out of the room and down the hall toward the apartment's kitchen. Morning sun slanted into the living room ahead, looking warm and welcoming; much nicer than the low lamplight had last night.

She paused where the hallway ended in the open space of the connected living room and kitchen, taking a moment to study the figure slouched in a chair at the table, legs crossed at the knee. One hand rested in his lap, the other lay stretched on the table, toying idly with the handle of his coffee cup. A smile at his casual air started to spread across her lips… and hesitated when she caught his expression.

Roy's eyebrows were drawn low and close, his dark eyes staring at the mug in front of him without really seeing it. His only sign of movement was the slow motion of his lower lip as he worried it reflectively with his teeth. This was a deep thought pose. A deep, serious thought pose.

She took a cautious step forward, into line with his peripheral vision. "Good morning."

"Hey." He didn't look up. "How did you sleep?"

"Once I got to sleep? Just fine." Stopping beside his chair, she slid one hand across his shoulders, picking up on the tension in the muscles. "What about you?"

At last, he tilted his head back, so that she could see the faint dark circles under his eyes. His smile was rueful. "Can't say I slept at all, actually." The hand resting on the table lifted the mug. "That's what this is for."

Guiltily, she lifted her hand from his shoulder, moving it to brush his bangs from his eyes. "I'm sorry. If it weren't for that incident last night…." Bending, she pressed a kiss to his forehead. "If you want to try and get some sleep before going back to consulting on the case, then —"

"Ah… about that…." He turned his gaze back to the mug in his hand, but not before she saw the rueful smile tugging grimly at his lips. "There's… been a change of plans."

Her hand stopped in its slow raking through his hair, dark strands sticking up at odd angles through her fingers. Riza held perfectly still, taking time to study his turn of phrase from every angle possible. "…Did Hakuro find a way to remove us from the case?" she said at last, keeping her voice cool and controlled. "I don't think he was convinced we should be working it in the first place."

"He wasn't, but it wasn't him that pulled the plug," Roy murmured. "Before you got up, we had a phone call…."

CENTRAL MILITARY HEADQUARTERS

0817 HOURS, APRIL 17

Dawn had brought rain and fog to the city, covering the damaged garrison in both. Grumman had been amused to find a few stray tendrils of mist in the hallway — seeping in through gaps in the outside walls — on his way to the Presidential office, but his good humour hadn't lasted long. A message left on his desk had informed him of another attack by the serial killer in East City the morning before, as did the new copy of the Central Times.

Settling into his desk chair, he spread the newspaper in front of him and took a deep breath. Time to see what fear-mongering they're pushing today, he thought darkly.

It wasn't long in coming. The media reported both on the new crime scene and Riza's attack on the reporter in as much detail as they could muster. Irritation flared as the old man reached the last paragraph of the article.

While not officially dubbed so by investigators, the general public has taken to referring to the perpetrator as the East-Central Slayer, owing to the locations and extremely violent natures of the crimes.

Sitting back in the chair, Grumman slid a hand under his glasses to rub at his eyes. "Of all the names they could have come up with…. This is precisely what I had hoped to avoid."

Letting the newspaper flop flat onto the desk, he took a moment to huff out an irritated sigh before reaching for the telephone. It was the work of a moment to dial, waiting patiently until there was acknowledgement from the other end. "I'd say 'good morning,' but I suspect you know what's in this morning's paper."

"If you're referring to the attack on Plum Street yesterday, sir, then yes, I'm aware. And if you hadn't beaten me to it, I was going to call you."

"Hmm." Eyeing the tiny print of the article through his glasses, Grumman rested a hand on the polished wooden surface, his fingers drumming absently. "And are you also aware that there is a strong media opinion that my granddaughter may be charged with assault sometime in the next day or so?"

Roy at least had the good grace to sound shamefaced. "…Yes, sir. I'm… I was there. If it's any consolation, she was provoked."

"I didn't think she wouldn't be. Seeing as I suspect you two spent the night in each other's company, it shouldn't be too much trouble for you to put her on the phone, should it." He was trying hard for the tone of a firm, parental disciplinarian, but not having had that much luck with parenting in the past, he knew he sounded more like the deeply irritated officer he was.

"She's still asleep, sir." The barest hint of steel had entered the younger man's tone; standing up for his lady love when she wasn't awake to defend herself. "There was a… a bit of a security breach last night, and we were both up late. It's my opinion she could use the rest."

Quiet alarm bells had gone off in his head by the second sentence, and Grumman frowned deeply. "Explain."

There was the sound of a deep breath, and then an extremely tired-sounding, "Sir, I hope like hell you're sitting down."

Within minutes, Grumman was very glad he was. He listened in nearly slack-jawed amazement and horror as Roy detailed the strange man's inexplicable entry, the bizarre attack, and the fast exit. His stomach churned in sympathy as it was made clear that his granddaughter — my girl, my poor girl — had had some stranger's blood forced down her throat for some unknown and probably perverse reason, and had promptly vomited it back up.

Too shocked to feel angry, he ran a hand through his thinning hair as Roy finished, "I left her sleeping about an hour ago, and if she's still out by nine-thirty, I'll wake her."

"That's fine. Being consultants on the case, you're not compelled to be at Headquarters at any regular hour. You can come and go as you wish." He blew out a sigh. "Have you considered having her checked out medically? To make sure there's no ill effect from… from the incident last night?"

"I'll ask her about it, but I think she got rid of anything she swallowed." There was a pause. "In the meantime, sir, would it be too much to ask that you not tell General Hakuro what happened? He's already looking for an excuse to throw us out, and I'd rather not give him the leverage to do so."

He smiled grimly, reaching out to fold the newspaper closed. "Hakuro may talk a big game, but I've made it clear to him that his power in this is strictly supervisory. Hiring and firing, so to speak, is my jurisdiction, not his."

"Understood, sir." Another pause. "Was there anything else, sir? If not, I should call in to East City Headquarters and let them know we might be a while in getting there. I can say we're going over files here —"

"That won't be necessary." Grumman's eyes were on the article about the Angelini crime scene, specifically on the black and white photograph that showed both Colonel and Lieutenant. The dark-haired alchemist was on ground level, his eyes hidden behind sunglasses as he watched a sheet-covered gurney pass with its deadweight load. A man in a tweed blazer with a press pass tucked in his hat was approaching from behind, trying to look casual… but not escaping the sharp gaze of Hawkeye, who watched from the raised front steps of the house. Even in the grainy photograph, Grumman could see the shoulders raised in tension, the alertness in those brown eyes so like his daughter's…..

"…Say again, sir?"

"You won't need to let Eastern HQ know that you'll be away for a while," Grumman said firmly. "As I told you, I hold the veto power for who handles this case." He took a deep breath, folding the pages of newsprint closed over the photograph. "I believe you have other commitments to concern you; Major Armstrong and the remainder of your staff will continue the investigation."

"Sir, I—"

Grumman's voice dropped low, only for the ears of the man on the other end of the line. "Roy, this is not up for discussion. I'm making an executive decision here, and as a superior officer, the Führer-President, and a close friend, I expect it to be followed. Am I clear?"

A short silence, followed by an equally short sigh preceded the answer. "Yes… Your Excellency, sir." The use of the formal title was not lost on Grumman, but he chose to ignore it. "Would it be too much to ask, however, exactly —"

"Why?"

She had settled into a chair at the table as he told the story, her gaze intent on his face. Roy stared back, sympathetic and with the last vestiges of his own annoyance stamped in those dark eyes. His fingers, resting on the side of his coffee mug as he spoke, began drumming random, absent-minded patterns.

"He gave a few reasons," he said, shrugging fatalistically. "The first was to distance you from whatever media attention any assault charges are going to get you, if that reporter — what's his name, Collins? — decides to file. The second was that the killer obviously has an interest in possibly both of us and definitely you, so Grumman's hoping that we can slip out quietly, without drawing attention to ourselves, and he won't be able to trail us." He lifted the mug to his lips, saying before he took a sip, "And the third was that we're needed elsewhere."

Riza knew frustration was still furrowing her brow, and she made no attempt to hide it. Folding her hands on the table, she studied her fingernails a moment, trying to calm the flare of irritation and anger that had sprung up in her chest. "When you say elsewhere," she began at last, "you mean —"

He nodded. "Ishval."

She closed her right hand into a fist, feeling the slight dig of her nails against the skin of her palm. It didn't hurt, per se, it was more like… pressure. Straightening the fingers again, she contemplated the crescent-shaped indents in her skin. Calm… calm…. "And who is going to take over the investigation here?"

Roy was watching her, dark eyes taking in every small movement. "Grumman didn't assign anyone; he told me to choose two replacements that I thought could handle it. I thought maybe Rebecca would be able, but we've partnered her with Havoc in the past and he's obviously out of commission." He tilted his head to one side, regarding her with new interest. "I'd like your thoughts on it as well. Maybe there's someone I'm overlooking?"

"Rebecca's a good choice; she complained about having to deal with the case, but she'll take it seriously if she's at the forefront of the East City investigations." Pausing, Riza ran carefully through a list of their mutual contacts, trying to come up with a name that might be a promising candidate.

Finally, she looked up. "General Armstrong has already done us one favour, by lending you Major Miles to help with the Ishval reconstruction," she said. "What are the odds she'd give you back Falman as well? Again, on a temporary basis. Until this little fiasco is over."

He was already nodding slowly. "I'd considered that. I don't know if she'll agree to it, especially since it means helping me when she doesn't absolutely have to… but it's certainly worth a shot." Tilting his mug to look into the depths, he frowned thoughtfully. "Maybe if we arranged for the credit for an arrest to go to Briggs instead of East City…."

She watched him fall into contemplative silence, waiting a moment before speaking. "Either way… we're being benched again."

Roy's eyes flicked up to meet hers, clearly gauging her mood before he answered. "…Yeah. We are." Tossing back the last of his coffee, he got to his feet and started toward the apartment's small kitchen. "I still keep turning it over in my head, trying to find a way that we could stay, or that we could work our way back onto the case… but I'm not coming up with much."

"You said Grumman called here nearly an hour ago?" She watched as he nodded, refilling his mug and taking a clean one from a cupboard for her. "Then he'll already have called Hakuro and told him to expect another investigative team. And he'll be only too happy to avoid working with either you or I."

"Sometimes it's nice knowing a superior officer hates you and everything you stand for," Roy said mildly, starting back toward the table. "It makes every success feel that little bit better. Until things start working against you, and then it's just a nuisance." He set her cup in front of her. "I also briefly considered beginning a separate, private investigation on our own… but even with all our contacts and connections, I doubt we'd get very far."

She propped her chin in one hand, leaning over the cup to inhale the rich, savoury scent in appreciation. "That's assuming they would want to talk at all. Casella was nervous enough, thanks to what happened on the Promised Day; what's to say the others wouldn't be the same, especially if word has gotten out of what I did to Collins."

"It has." Roy grinned half-heartedly. "But your newspaper photo was very nearly as pretty as the real you."

Riza couldn't stifle a return smile, but she managed to quash the urge to laugh. "Flattery won't clear me at court-martial, sir," she said dryly, reaching for her cup. She sipped, the smile fading. "Which, I'll be honest, is one of the better reasons Grumman gave for taking us off the investigation."

He looked at her curiously. "You want to run for it? Get out of town before the lawyers begin circling?" His tone was joking, but his eyes were not.

She shook her head. "I didn't mean it that way. What I did was… I don't think it was exactly wrong, because I did perceive him to be a threat. But I definitely didn't handle it in a way that was… professional, for lack of a better term. I overreacted." Thoughtful, she gently swirled the coffee in her mug, watching the way it splashed up the sides. "Before we leave for Ishval, I think I should take you up on the suggestion you made, about calling a meeting with Collins and whatever lawyer he might have hired. See if he'd be willing to let things go if I apologized."

Leaning forward, folding his arms on the table, Roy nodded. "At the very least, he won't be able to claim you didn't demonstrate remorse for it, or whatever the legal jargon for it is. Though I think it would also be a good idea to have a backup plan for if he doesn't decide to forgive you."

Smiling over the rim of her cup, she shrugged one shoulder. "I thought that was what the Ishval trip was for?" Taking another sip, she set the mug back on the table, cradling the warm ceramic in both hands. "That being said… how exactly are we supposed to get out there? Trains haven't run out that far in, what, six? Seven years?"

"Not since the end of the war," Roy agreed. One hand rose, rubbing unconsciously at the light growth of stubble just starting to darken his jawline. "The way I figure it, we can either take a train from here to Resembool and find a car charter that'll take us the rest of the way to Ishval… or else we drive ourselves in the car we got from Eastern HQ."

Her gaze was steady on the table top, though introspective as she mulled it over. "It's a day and a half by train from Resembool to the outskirts of Ishval. That's three days by car," she reminded him. When she looked up, she was smiling again. "And I seem to remember you saying you hate camping almost as much as you hate going to the dentist."

He levelled a finger at her, matching her smile. "I hate military camps," he corrected, mock-severely. "But three days alone with you, sunshine during the day and stars at night?" Dropping his hand, he leaned forward. "I think I can handle that."

One blonde eyebrow quirked upward. "Is this a military expedition, or a romantic getaway?"

"Who's to say it can't be both?"

"Ah, efficiency. I like it." Leaning forward to meet him, she pressed a kiss to his cheek before getting up and making her way back down the hallway, coffee cup still in one hand. "There's a lot of supplies and equipment to line up, if that's the case, not to mention I'll need to make some apologetic overtures toward Mr. Collins. I think it's high time I got started."

Roy's eyes followed her across the room, watching the way his shirt hung on that lithe frame, how the hem stopped at the right length to give some decent modesty, while at the same time showing enough leg to be enticing. He got up to follow her, his own pace leisurely and mug still in hand.

"Since we're already off the case and don't have any official business that's absolutely pressing," he said, lifting his coffee for a too-casual-to-be-innocent sip, "then I think maybe I ought to reassure myself that you're as well as you seem to be."

He caught up to her in the bedroom doorway as she paused, looking back over her shoulder with a knowing smile. "I take it you mean a physical examination?" Her eyes wandered south along his body, then back to his face. "An… intensive one at that?"

Reaching out with his free hand, Roy tugged lightly on the open shirt collar, ignoring the red scar line and two small, round marks either side of it. "Strip, shirt thief."

CITY OF JADAD, GUNJA REGION, ISHVAL

1103 A.M., APRIL 17

He didn't like to think of how long it had been since he walked the packed-sand streets of an Ishvalan city, since he had smelled the warm, earthy scent of brick houses baking under the sun in the cloudless sky above. Things were beginning to come back to him: his feet instinctively gripping the soles of the sandals and adjusting in mid-step to any grit that shifted underneath, he carried one arm tucked neatly against his ribs to keep his robe from flapping open in the light breeze, and he held his head high, with the proper bearing of a full warrior.

The man with no name breathed deep, smelling the familiar scents of home, and for the first time in far too long… felt as close to at peace as he had ever been.

It wasn't possible to relax fully, of course. All around him were the remains of crumbled buildings, chunks of stone and mortar, shattered wooden beams, and splintered doors. What houses had had small gardens were left with dried and withered weeds, slowly disintegrating into dust.

He paused at the end of the street as it opened into a plaza, taking a moment to study his surroundings. It was rocky, desolate, covered in dust and rubble… but underneath it all, he felt a pulse. There was a faint thrumming in the earth below his feet, and that minute vibration meant life. Life that would be breathed back into the city, the region, and the provinces beyond.

Ishval would live again. "Inshbala'ah," he murmured to himself. "God willing."

Turning down a street leading out of the plaza, he kept his head up, watching as signs of habitation began to appear. Here and there, a small house would be in a greater state of repair than its neighbours, or small children would be playing in a lot among the rocks and debris. They stopped to stare as he passed, and the unnamed man tugged the robe closer over his arms to hide the tattoos imprinted there.

He knew the children whispered after he was out of earshot. He didn't mind; he was a stranger, and a strange one at that. An Ishvalan that had chosen to mark his flesh with the symbols and sciences of Amestris and Xing was not precisely an outcast, but they were viewed with curiosity… and more than a little suspicion.

He reached the large city administration building soon after, entering the cool, shaded interior that echoed back the murmured conversations of two or three groups in the atrium-like entryway. Scar turned left down a corridor, knowing the eyes of a trip of elders followed him as he went.

The small office-style space that had been given to himself and Miles was down another, smaller corridor and behind a door of simple wooden planks. It was devoid of most Amestrian-style furniture, furnished instead with a pair of low writing desks, a tiny kitchen alcove barely big enough for one person, woven cloth mats on the baked clay floor, and an array of plush cushions arranged in a conversational circle.

Looking up from behind one desk as the door opened, Miles paused in whatever he was writing to nod in greeting. "Welcome back. Did you find what you were looking for?"

Scar nodded, settling cross-legged behind the other table. "There's an unoccupied house in the southern district that should suffice. The damage is light, and easily repaired. And we were considering an outpost office in that area anyway, so that residents wouldn't have to trek all the way over here."

Miles nodded again. "Good. We can file a claim for it this afternoon." He pointed with his pen to a small, open envelope on Scar's desk before going back to his writing. "But it looks like we'll need to scope a second house for what's coming."

Frowning in puzzlement, the scarred man removed a single-folded piece of paper from the envelope, briefly skimming the telegraphed message. Neat type spelled out: BY ORDER CENTRAL HQ: MUSTANG AND HAWKEYE INBOUND WILL ARRIVE IN THREE DAYS TO BEGIN WORK WITH RECONSTRUCTION AUTHORITY ADVISE ON ARRIVAL.

The frown didn't ease. "They're on their way already? Did they resolve their murder case so quickly?"

A quiet chuckle came from across the room. "Not so much. From the phone call that preceded that message — it's really just a formal notice, for our records — the investigation is being left to General Armstrong's younger brother and whatever staff of Mustang's isn't at Briggs or in a wheelchair. There was some kind of altercation, and both Colonel and Lieutenant were quietly ushered to the sidelines."

Scar looked up, his only other reaction a single raised eyebrow. "Altercation?" he repeated.

Miles smiled. "Apparently, the young lady punched a particularly aggressive reporter."

He gave no outward sign of surprise or other reaction, but Scar couldn't deny being impressed. He had known the Lieutenant was emotionally strong, certainly; her fortitude in talking Mustang down from the unreasoning rage he had harboured against Envy was proof enough of that. But she hadn't struck him as being particularly physically strong. Perhaps Amestrian hand-to-hand training wasn't quite as lax as he thought it to be.

"I suppose my next question ought to be how they think they'll be getting out here," he said at last. "We've talked about clearing the old train tracks, but there isn't a definitive plan."

"I imagine they're driving." Miles shrugged. "As for the tracks, the main problem is just getting them clear of sand once they leave the greener areas, and making sure they're still structurally sound. Once the military withdrew from Ishval following the conflict, they didn't spend too much effort to maintain them. It was no longer a priority."

He looked up at the warrior, red eyes flicking to the tattooing visible on the other man's arms. "There is, of course, an easier solution than manual labour. One that perhaps the rest of our people don't necessarily need to know about."

Scar was already shaking his head. "Our people are too proud and too traditional to allow it, or to accept the use of alchemy if it were done without consulting them. The general feeling around here is that we will rebuild from the ashes and rubble and take pride in the work… and that extends to reopening the railway."

Miles shrugged, going back to his documents. "It was a thought."

Searching briefly through several folded maps on the desk top, Scar selected the one he wanted and laid it flat on the weathered wooden surface. He took a thin charcoal stick, running one rough finger over the layout of the city until he found the building he was looking for. He marked it with an X, before locating the building's indicator number on a sheet filled with them and marking a second X next to it.

His eyes roved over the map again, over multiple black Xs marking inhabited locations or those slated for some purpose. Red ink slashed through even more former buildings, showing where there was simply too much structural damage for the building to be repaired.

The Ishvalan city wasn't laid out like an Amestrian one. Where those were laid out in an orderly fashion, with street names and numbers for each building, the desert city spread unevenly over the map page, its streets full of twists and turns, opening into plazas and culminating abruptly in dead ends. Wide avenues branched off into the narrower streets and thin alleys, like the web of some crazed spider… and yet there was order in the chaos.

The arid landscape held few rivers, but the streets of its cities functioned in the same way. Creeks fed into streams that fed into the river, and the river carried its flow — its people — to the major locations.

Scar marked a location less than a mile east from the city administration building, before noting the indicator number and getting back to his feet. "With the Colonel and Lieutenant on their way, they're going to need a place to stay once they get here," he said, straightening the robe. It had been so long since he'd worn one, his body had forgotten the practiced motions needed to keep the thing properly in place. "I think I know of one; I'm going to go check on it."

"I'll put the paperwork in motion, and fast track it through," Miles said, without looking up. He smiled wryly. "I've never done so much paperwork in my life, and I was the assistant to a General."

"Ishval was taken from us with fire and iron," Scar murmured, heading toward the door. "We're taking it back with paper."

Moments later, he stepped again from cool shade to warm sun, immediately feeling the baking heat settling over him. The loose folds of the robe helped to dissipate the warmth, but sweat still prickled on his back. It stung a little on his still-healing wounds, but he ignored the pain, letting it be a reminder of what he had faced and survived.

He had heard the tales, from his own people and from the female General's massively burly brother, of how Supreme Cleric Logue Lowe had faced Bradley man to man, similar to what he had done. But where the old priest had put forward the path of least resistance, Scar had presented as much as he possibly could, all in the name of saving the country that had committed genocide on his people. He supposed that of himself and Lowe, he had been the one to get off lucky in facing Bradley.

Convincing his people to help had been a monumental task. Had his old master not intervened on his behalf, Scar wasn't sure he would have convinced anyone at all. Actions had always spoken louder than words with him, especially after the war, because his mind would not marshal the words into a feasible argument. He was a fighter, not a politician, not a clan leader….

And yet, suddenly, he was something very close to that.

As he walked the streets of the half-ruined city, those he came across recognized him by the scar on his forehead. Men offered silent nods of acknowledgement, women smiled in greeting, children stared in wonder at the man of legend. The man who swore vengeance and forsook his name, who killed and then fought alongside alchemists and soldiers, who saved the country he had sworn to hate for eternity.

The attention left him uncomfortable, after so long spent in hiding.

He reached the house he had chosen for the two inbound soldiers, pausing before opening the door. Mustang and Hawkeye were a two-person team, to be sure, but he wondered if it were overstepping some boundary to put them up in the same house. Ishvalan warriors didn't separate themselves by gender, but the Amestrians were more prudish on the subject, no matter a person's skills.

He brushed away the thought; if there were a problem with them sharing accommodations, there were enough buildings in tolerable states of repair for Colonel and Lieutenant to have their space.

The interior of the house was relatively clean, the only signs of its long disuse being the layer of dust on every surface windswept sand on the dirt floors. Other than that, it appeared to be fully functional, if unfurnished. That was easily rectified; some of the first people to flock back to the city after the Battle of Central had been craftsmen and women skilled in the creation of household goods. They had been working ever since with the shipments Miles had arranged for from Amestris of fabric, cotton batting, wicker, wood, and tools.

Making a mental note to apply to the goods warehouse for at least the bare minimum in furnishings - seating, food preparation, a table, and two sleeping pallets - he turned his attention to examining the walls. A handful of pockmarks from bullets that would need to be plastered over, a couple cracks that needed the same treatment… but overall, they should find it at least liveable. The desert lifestyle didn't offer much in comfort, but made up for it in lack of complication. It would suit a more stoic outlook like Lieutenant Hawkeye, and he doubted the Colonel would have much trouble adjusting.

They were an interesting pair. Stark juxtaposition when standing next to each other — male and female, dark and fair-haired, tall and short, alchemist and non-alchemist, hot-headed and cool demeanour, vocal and quiet…. Yet even he, who had only dealt with them personally twice could see the almost effortless partnership. He had seen it when Hawkeye kicked her superior's feet out from under him to save him from Scar's attack, and again when Mustang stepped back from rage and vengeance, asking her forgiveness.

On his way out of the house, he paused in the doorway, looking around the small space. He had seen how the other side lived and worked. He had been in their cities, studied their infrastructure, watched their movements. He had been deep inside their world.

Now, they would come to his, not as enemies, but as allies. And Scar found himself looking forward to it.

[superiordragonlorde]

Heymans Breda

Ok, day 3- Heymans Breda for @teammustangweek . Warnings: there’s one curse word I think so... yeah, nothing too bad this time. Unless you have a deep phobia for dogs or cats. In which case, don’t read. Alright then, please enjoy!

     No one ever dared to oppose the Lieutenant Colonel Riza Hawkeye. Her stony expressions, blunt, no-nonsense retorts, and terrifyingly fast and accurate aim with her pistols were the biggest deterrents. This fear was the reason why Breda was keeping his mouth clamped shut and letting his sweat drench the military uniform he was obligated to wear. His eyes darted from his paperwork to the small, black and white mound of fur that sat obediently next to Hawkeye’s chair, head resting on their paws.

     Breda couldn’t understand why the military would allow a dog to enter its facilities. They were disease carrying, loud, vicious creatures that could attack anyone at a moments notice. One minute you’re playing with the neighbor’s dog, throwing a stick around and racing across the yard. The next minute they jump at you, teeth snapping near your face, their hot breath washing over you, and clawing at your arm holding the stick. No doubt about it, dogs were not a man’s best friend. They did, however, appear to be Hawkeye’s best friend. The Lieutenant Colonel never went anywhere without Black Hayate and the dog never ceased to follow in her shadow. It was no wonder that the most dangerous person in the world would enjoy the company of the most dangerous animal in the world. Life was so cruel.

     “Hey, Breda,” Havoc leaned over his desk across from him, a cheeky grin showing off behind the cigarette. “Doing ok over there, buddy? You look like you’re trapped in a cage with a rabid animal.”

     “That’s because I am,” Breda hissed, snatching a glance at Hayate. “He’s a dangerous, feral, deadly animal that’s going to attack us at any given moment.” Havoc chuckled.

     “Ah, come on, Breda,” he snickered. “Hayate’s not so bad. He’s just a sweet ball of fluff. Ain’t that right,” he cooed at Hayate who raised his head at the strange voice, tail wagging. Hawkeye cleared her throat, giving the Second Lieutenant a pointed glare. Havoc paled, gave a flustered cough and returned his attention back to his desk, pen scratching furiously. Breda tried to put his focus into the stack of paperwork that mocked him at the corner of his desk, but he could still see that curled black tail over the edge of the wood. He swore that the dog was mocking him, letting him know it was there, prepared to jump at him at any time...

     The door slammed open, a wonderful distraction from the mass of fur that sat in a mocking form of innocence in their office. Everyone’s heads shot up in unison.

     “Ed!” Havoc exclaimed in surprise at the sight of a bright red coat and golden hair standing in the doorway. A suit of armor clanked up behind him, giving a tiny wave into the office. Ed looked over at Havoc with dull, bleary eyes. He blinked, brow furrowing.

     “Woah, Cheif.” Breda started to stand. “You don’t look so good. Are you ok?” Ed turned his head towards him, face hardening, making the bags beneath his eyes more prominent.

     “M’fine,” he grunted, trudging towards the Colonel’s office and ignoring every pair of eyes that were locked onto him.

     “Hold up there, big guy,” Breda called, grabbing Ed’s upper arm. The kid huffed, glaring up at him as he tried to squirm out of his grip.

     “What?” he growled, his glare softer than usual, weary and tired. The boy looked like a wreck. His face was drooping with fatigue, actually, his entire body was, his clothes were hanging disheveled off of him, and his hair was falling out of the trademark braid he wore.

     “You look awful,” Havoc piped up, striding over to them. He placed a hand on Ed’s forehead only to have it smacked off.

     “Thanks,” Ed deadpanned, writhing around a little more in Breda’s hold.

     “You sick?” Havoc pressed.

     “No,” Ed huffed. “Just tired. It’s not that big of a deal.” Breda hummed, not overly convinced, but decided to release his arm anyway. Ed took a step back, still trying to form an intimidating glare. It didn’t work.

     “Can’t you sleep on the train ride?” Havoc inquired. Ed scowled.

     “Train had maintenance issues,” he ground out. “We had to stop a couple cities west of here. Decided to walk the rest of the way.” He shrugged, his shoulders sagging when he released them and turned back around towards the Colonel’s doors. Breda tried to calculate how far the kid had to walk, but geography was never really his strong suit. He couldn't even remember which city was to the west of East City.

     Ed reached the wooden doors, hand placed on the door handle when a soft mewl echoed through the office. Everyone stiffened, including Hayate. Ed dropped his head against the door with a dull thump, closed his eyes, and gave a long, groaning sigh. Nothing moved in the office when silence returned.

     “Alphonse.” Ed’s voice was flat and cold. Breda glanced back at the younger brother behind him. If armor could sweat, he could imagine the kid soaking as he shifted his feet. “Was that... what I think it was?” Al tapped his index fingers together, his gaze fixated on them.

     “U-uh,” he stammered. Breda could almost picture a nervous smile stretching across the helmet. “What was what?” His voice squeaked at the last word and he gave a nervous giggle. “You must be hearing things, Brother-”

     “Al,” Ed warned, eyes still closed. “Don’t play dumb with me.” Breda watched as Ed sighed, looking like every drop of energy and patience was being dragged out of him. He faced his brother, his face devoid of anything but exhaustion, and walked up to him. He held out a hand.

     “Cough it up.” Al hesitated.

     “But, Brother-”

     “Al.” Breda didn’t realize a fifteen-year-old kid could look and sound so much like a parent at the end of their rope. Al sighed, admitting defeat, and made slow work of unbuckling his chest plate. Once the piece of metal was removed, a brown, black, and white head peeked out, greeting everyone with a small meow. Alphonse grabbed the cat with giant, gentle hands, far gentler than Breda would have thought possible, and placed them into Ed’s outstretched arms. Ed sighed, situating the cat onto one of his arms and rubbing his face with his free hand.

     Breda watched the cat, admiring her beautiful markings. Cats, he decided, were much better than dogs. Cats were small and didn’t bother you so long as you didn’t bother them. If they really had to have an animal in the office, Breda would have much preferred a cat. Cats were way better than dogs.

     Hayate, however, did not agree with his opinion.

     When the cat had been placed into Ed’s arms, she peered over his shoulder, taking in all the sights the office had to behold. She had a fairly good view of everything, but that also made her easy to see as well. Which wasn’t convenient when there was a dog inhabiting the room. When the two animals locked eyes with one another, all order erupted into chaos.

     Hayate leaped to his feet and raced to Ed, barking up a storm. The cat flailed and tore out of Ed’s grasp, landing on the tiled floor, and scampering off. Hayate gave chase and soon, everyone else followed, trying to catch one of the animals. The cat lept to Havoc’s desk, knocking off his ashtray and scattering his papers and pens. Hayate followed in pursuit on the ground. Havoc lunged at her, slamming himself into his desk as the cat raced away. She continued to run and jumped onto Falman’s absent desk, leaving a trail of multicolored fur in her wake. Ed went to grab for her as well, but her tail slipped between his fingers and he spewed dozens of colorful curses.

     Next was Fuery’s desk and she nimbly made her way over the gap to his workspace, tearing through the various machines he had there, pushing some off in her haste. A wire wrapped around her foot and she dragged a severed phone with her, catching it on everything else.

      After Fuery’s desk was a bookshelf. She jumped to the tallest shelf she could reach, her foot weighed down by the dangling phone. Hawkeye raced after her, but Hayate was faster. He hopped up, snatching the phone in his mouth. The cat gave a harsh yowl and dug her claws further into the shelf. The bookcase leaned precariously, then toppled. The animals scurried out of the way with Hayate bounding towards Hawkeye, the phone still clamped in his jaws, and the cat sprinting towards Hawkeye’s desk, freed from her burden.

     She sprung up to the tidy desk, toppling a stack of finished paperwork. Alphonse tried to grab her this time, but she bounded over his armored shoulder, clearing the distance to Breda’s desk and showering the floor with more papers. Breda jumped in front of her, blocking her way. Hayate wasn’t finished in the chase either, though, and jumped up to the desk, right on the cat’s heels. The cat leaped at Breda, hopping off his head. Breda heard Ed give a triumphant, “Gotcha!”, but it was drowned out by his own shriek.

     Hayate had intended to follow the cat’s path, but his stockier body couldn’t copy such a feat as jumping over Breda’s head. He landed on Breda’s chest instead, knocking the Second Lieutenant over. They laid sprawled on the floor.

     Now, Hayate was able to give Hawkeye, Falman, and Mustang some affectionate licks on their hands when they allowed it, and Havoc, Fuery, Edward, and Alphonse all allowed him to lick their hands and faces, too. So, to have the opportunity of Breda, the only human in the office that never let Hayate shower him with affections, be helplessly nose to nose with the small dog was just too good of a chance to miss.

     Breda screeched as the soft, warm, wet tongue slathered his face in saliva.

     “Oh my- get it off!” he howled, trying to guard his face from the onslaught. “Getitoffgetitoffgetitoff. Get. It. Off! Havoc!” he screamed, hearing his friend laughing at his plight. Actually, it sounded like almost everyone was laughing. Those jerks! He was being attacked by a dog and all the germs and diseases he was carrying. It was torture. And they were laughing!

     Hawkeye finally came to his rescue, calling Hayate over to her. The little dog sprang off of Breda to sit by her feet, earning a pat on the head for his obedience. Breda scrambled up onto his desk, pulling his feet up with him and keeping his eyes on Hayate at all times.

     “What-” Everyone spun around to find Colonel Mustang standing at the doorway to his office, staring at the chaos that had transpired within the room. His eyes roamed over the fallen bookshelf, the papers cluttering the floor, Breda cowering on his desk, and finally rested on the cat gripped in Ed’s arms, quietly hissing at Hayate. His eyes narrowed.

     “Edward,” he drawled. Ed sighed, the laughter that shone in his eyes fading out as a new level of weariness weighed on him.

     “Yeah, yeah,” he sighed. “I’ll take care of it.” He scratched the cat’s head, hesitating for a second. Al flexed his fingers like he wanted to take the cat from his brother. Neither of the boys looked eager to release the cat.

     “Give her over,” Breda caught himself saying. The boys snapped their heads up to him in disbelief. Breda swallowed. “You heard me, give her over here.” He stretched out a hand to solidify the order. Ed stiffly placed the cat into his arm, showing his exhaustion in the lack of defiance for being ordered around. Breda bundled the cat up into his arms and gave her head a minuscule scratch. He marveled for a moment at the deep, rumbling purr she gave him in gratitude. He heard a snicker and glanced up to find all eyes watching him with varying levels of amusement. Breda felt his cheeks warm at the attention.

     “What?” he barked. “She doesn’t like dogs and neither do I. And she can fight off any dog that comes near her. She’ll protect us from those terrifying creatures.” He glanced down at Hayate, curling up further into his desk. “Besides, cats are better.” Hawkeye gave a small hum of mocking acceptance and returned to her desk, gathering up the papers left by the wake of the animals’ destruction.

     “Well,” Mustang broke in, smirking. “Now that that’s settled, everyone, clean up this mess. And Fullmetal, I believe you have a report you need to give me?” Ed nodded, his steps a little lighter as he crossed over the paper obstacles, trying not to step on any of them.

     “And, Breda.” Breda looked up at the Colonel’s unamused face. “Get off the damn desk and quit screaming like a ten-year-old girl. It’s... disturbing.” And with that final order, he closed the door behind him, leaving Breda gaping and blushing furiously while Havoc tried to smother his snickers.

Some fluff since my last one had some angst in it. There’s Breda, our brave cynophobic. Poor guy... Ok then, thanks for reading and I hope you enjoyed it!

[aardvark-123]

Gensokyo Festival Day 25: Kosuzu Writes a Fanfic

For the “fan works” prompt, I decided to produce a fan-work-within-a-fanwork. This isn’t meant to be a mean-spirited attack on eager teenage girls, rather a celebration of the eager teenagers just starting out on their journey through fanfic-writing. We all started out that way, didn’t we?

~Magical Girl Warrior Kosuzu and the Forces of Darkness, Chapter 12: The Revenge of the Fortune-Teller~

Hello there, my lovelies! Welcome to the next chapter of my story, Magical Girl Warrior Kosuzu and the Forces of Darkness! Sorry it took so long, real life's been pretty hard to handle this week... ;^^

@ParadiseMaiden: I'm sorry, I really don't know what you mean about me "ruining your character" and "reducing you to a whining damsel in distress". Maybe you could give me a point-by-point breakdown of what I'm doing wrong? ^_^

@RainbowMage: Wow, you really liked the last fight scene that much?! 0_0 YIPPEE! Thankyouthankyouthankyou!!! You don't know how much it means to me!

@Xx_scarletcutiepie_xX: Thank you, and you're welcome! I know a lot of people weren't expecting him to make a cameo, but what the heck! It made your day!

@Faith_and_Anime: For the last time, if Suwako losing against Combat Butler Hayate is against your religion, that's your problem. At the end of the day, I'm just not as devout as you, and you can't force me to be. I don't want to hear another review complaining about it, all right? -_-

@AWESUMGIRL999: Um, what? Could you maybe try speaking Japanese next time, please? ;^^

@Windgodgirl1337: Thanks! I've already written this chapter, but I'll try to make the next one longer. Good things come to those who wait!

Keep those reviews coming, you wonderful people! They really make my day. And now, here's the next chapter!

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Kosuzu strode bravely through the town square. All the villagers' eyes were upon her, full of awe and amazement, because they'd been without hope for so long until she rekindled it.

The Fortune-Teller sneered down at Kosuzu as she approached. "Is this it?" he laughed sneeringly, "Is this Gensokyo's greatest heroine?! I could crush her head in one hand!"

"I'm not afraid of you, Fortune-Teller!" declared Kosuzu, glaring defiantly up at the Fortune-Teller, "Or should I say... Akuma Mirashi?"

The townsfolk all gasped at the reveal of the Fortune-Teller's name! "How did you find my real name?!" cried the Fortune-Teller, who was looking a little rattled.

"Reimu told me. Oh, didn't I mention she was still alive? It took me hours of work, but I nursed her back to health!" said Kosuzu proudly.

"Impossible!" spluttered the Fortune-Teller, "You will die like the rest of them, and then I shall annihilate Reimu and your precious chronicler!"

Kosuzu gasped horrifiedly. "What have you done to my precious Akyuu?!" she cried.

"I raped her!" declared the Fortune-Teller maniacally! The villagers gasped in horror!

"Grr... How dare you?!" screamed Kosuzu furiously, unsheathing her Devine Staff. (A/N: Her staff wasn't technically in a sheath, but it's the only good word I know for what she did with it...) "In the name of peace and justice, I swear to make you pay!"

"Then come and get me!" bellowed the Fortune-Teller, readying his Dark Spell-Cards.

Kosuzu leapt up into the air and did her transformation sequence. She spread her sparkly azure wings and charged at the Fortune-Teller!

The Fortune-Teller used Darkness Sign: Web of Annihilation! Suddenly, hundreds of fine threads of pure Shadow were filling the air, forcing Kosuzu to slow down and weave through them. She'd fallen into the Fortune-Teller's trap!

"You've fallen into my trap, you fool!" laughed the Fortune-Teller evilly, "Take this! Black Heart Sign: Evisceration of the Stars!"

A thousand bolts of purplish-black Evilness with pink highlights leapt from the Fortune-Teller's fingers! Kosuzu gasped and dove back out of the way, but the threads of pure Shadow wrapped around her wings and held her tight! The bolts of Evilness thwacked into her, scarring her skin wherever they hit and making her cry out in pain!

"Oh, golly..." whimpered Kosuzu, "I'm at the end of my strength! I... I can't do it..."

"No, Kosuzu, don't give up!"

What was that voice?! Kosuzu looked curiously around, although her vision was too blurry to see much.

"It's me, Akyuu!" said the voice. Kosuzu realised that the voice was coming from within her own heart! "You mustn't give up, my brave angel. Don't let him get away with making us all miserable!"

"Oh, Akyuu..." Kosuzu bravely clenched her fist, "I'll never give up, do you hear me?! Never! Spark Sign: Rainbow of Love!"

Kosuzu shot a bright rainbow from her Staff, knocking the Fortune-Teller clean off his feet! She broke free of the threads of pure Shadow and sprinted after him.

"Wh-what is this?! No-one can beat me!" wailed the Fortune-Teller. "Well, guess what, girl?! Two can play at not giving up! Rage Sign: Ocean of Hatred!"

Suddenly, the ground under Kosuzu's feet turned into boiling crimson blood! She yelped and flew away, barely in time to avoid getting her feet burned!

"That was a mean trick, Akuma," said Kosuzu angrily, flying towards him, "I'll teach you! Fantasy Sign: Sweet Dreams of a Bright Future!"

An Orb of light formed in Kosuzu's free hand. Shouting a fierce battle-cry, she threw it in the Fortune-teller's hideous face!

"Nooooooooo!" howled the Fortune-Teller. Before he could react, his head exploded!

"Oh, my days..." whimpered Kosuzu, who was now covered in bits of the fortune-teller's brain.

The villagers all cheered, except those who were going to have to clean up!

"Three cheers for Kosuzu!" declared Keine, dancing with happiness.

"She's the greatest!" shouted Tadashi. (A/N: He owns the inn.)

"Oh, please, it was the least I could do," said Kosuzu humbly, blushing like a ripe peach, "I couldn't let him hurt any of you! This village means so much to me! But... Has anyone seen Akyuu?"

"Why, yes! As a matter of fact, I was the one who washed her once Akuma was finished with her!"

Kosuzu gasped and turned around. Coming up from behind her was none other than the evil Youkai from the Night Parade Scroll!

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That's it for chapter 12! I really hope you liked it; I get a lot of reviews telling me to "try harder" or "stop writing like a seven-year-old" or "grow the hell up" or "just save us all some time and effort and kill yourself", and I really am trying, I swear! ;;>.< I made sure Kosuzu didn't just win effortlessly this time, so it can't be that bad, right?

That was an amazing cliffhanger, though! I hope you're all on the edge of your seats for what comes next! I can't promise anything, but I'm going to try and get it out in time for Tanabata.

In the mean time, this is Kosuzu Motoori, signing out. Peace, love and waffles to each and every one of you! ^.^

[lightsaberss]

The Meaning of Death Chapter 11

Happy Christmas?

This isn’t perfect, but I just wanted it out of my head.

AO3/FF.NET

Everything had happened rather quickly. From the moment she woke up, sleepy and satisfied, morning sunshine across her face and Roy's arm curled around her protectively. He had worshiped her the night before, where his hands had wandered his mouth had followed, and he'd declared his feelings for her with his tongue against her skin. There had been no words uttered, none of meaning beyond instruction, laughter, and lustful moans that neither of them had been able to contain. Riza had just tried to assure him that she was there, real, whole, and filled with longing. Longing to remember, for safety, for home, and mostly for him. She'd scraped her fingernails down his back, dug her fingers into his arms, and it had been his name on her lips as she tipped over the edge again, and again.

In the morning, everything changed. Their peace together, naked and warm, and loving. It was shattered with a single phone call.

They had found the man that had followed her and Rebecca around town, they finally had something to go on, something that could maybe explain what she'd been doing there in that lab, what their purpose for her had been. Something that could lead them to the people responsible for taking away years of her life.

There hadn't been much of a discussion, they'd just gone through the house and picked up what few things they'd unpacked, then got back into his car and started the drive back to East City. A single night in the country had given her the bitter memories of her father, of a love that she'd been desperate to receive, to know she was valued and that he was proud, but it had never come to fruition. He'd never said the words, and he never would. It was a dull pain within her chest that had been chased away by Roy.

They'd both been so young when they'd met, flesh and blood ghosts in a house falling apart. Barely speaking to one another until her father had died, and she shared her secrets with him. From there a friendship, disappointment, anger, loyalty, and love had grown. Riza just wasn't sure what sort of love, but she knew that it was there, in her blood and bones, ingrained onto her very soul.

The night before wasn't mentioned, but they were content and happy, sitting in the car next to one another without feeling awkward. She'd been clear with him, she couldn't be his girlfriend. Not now. Not while her past was a puzzle she was putting together piece by piece, while so much of her life was a mystery together. It was unfair, but she was honest. If she'd thought about it before, she would have expected something between them to feel awkward or different, but it didn't. Maybe they had done this before, a night together followed by acting as if nothing had happened. Or maybe it just didn't matter. They were already tied together so completely, that sex had no ability to change anything. Or maybe it just hadn't sunk in yet, and that the adrenaline of running towards a lead stopped them from feeling anything else.

Once they arrived back in East City, they stopped at his house. Roy wanted to change into his uniform to look suitably intimidating, and Riza's fingers itched for a gun. Not to shoot the man, but to feel like her own defence was in her hands.

Everything changed once they got out of the car.

The hairs on the back of Riza's neck stood up, and she turned and saw the glint of light hitting the scope and she reacted before her brain could comprehend what had happened. She knocked Roy to the floor, and found herself on her back, pain shooting through her body.

Hayate was barking.

People were shouting.

Roy's hands were pressed against her side.

Roy was talking, but she couldn't hear what he was saying.

She wanted to scream. She wanted to cry. Her hands shook.

Hayate was barking.

***

Rebecca was mildly concerned about the look on Breda's face. He was the brains of the bunch, and when he looked nervous, she got nervous. Or maybe it was the lack of sleep making her anxious, she didn't want to think about how long it had been since she'd been curled up in her nice, soft, warm bed, regardless it was far too long.

"What?" She eventually asked him, annoyed.

"Don't you think this is all a little easy?" He asked, he waved his arm in the direction of the living room, which had been turned into a makeshift interrogation suite. It was Jean and Al's turn to watch The Creep, leaving the rest of them to do what they wanted. Ed had fallen asleep somewhere, and the two of them were getting some coffee in the tiny kitchen.

"Yes, smashing his face with my gun after he smashed my face with my wall was so easy." Rebecca complained. Her face still hurt, and would be a throbbing, dull ache for a while.

"Not what I meant," He pointed out. "Look, these guys hid themselves for two years in the same city as us. They hid Hawkeye right under our noses. Now one of them just walks into your apartment and gets captured, then spills enough info to make him worth calling Mustang about? Doesn't that seem weird to you?"

"What, like this is all some kind of trap?" Rebecca tried to ignore the feeling of ice cold dread that was beginning to wash over her. The more he said, the more she thought about it, the more it made some horrible kind of sense.

"It just seems a bit easy." Breda said. "Don't you think?"

"Well, sure." Rebecca agreed. "I mean, he said he wanted to use me to get to Riza. We all thought that meant kidnapping me, but what if it meant something else?"

"A ruse to get them here?"

"Yeah, but for what?" Rebecca asked.

"I dunno, but someone should head over to Mustang's, just in case."

"Then let's go."

Rebecca and Breda arrived to chaos. That was the only way to describe it. They'd both seen worse during their time im the military, but blood on a quiet suburban street was enough to shock them both for a brief moment. There was an ambulance, and a crowd of people that Breda and Rebecca barged their way through. Mustang was at the centre of it, blood on his hands and shirt, smears of it on his face.

"What the fuck?!" Rebecca exclaimed. Loudly. "Where's Riza?"

"They're taking her to General." Mustang said. "Shots were fired from over there-" He pointed to a building across the street "-but I haven't had time to-"

"I'm on it." Breda interjected. There was no glance between them, but Rebecca knew that meant she was babysitting the General.

"What happened to Riza?" Rebecca asked again. The feeling of dread had seeped into her skin now. Ice cold and certain that something awful had happened. General Hospital was the closest, and even though it didn't sound like it, one of the best in East City. That was good, if something had happened to her, she'd get there quickly and she'd be fine. Right?

"Someone shot her." His voice was hollow. Empty. Rebecca was reminded of how he was in the aftermath of Riza's memorial. Walking through the motions, throwing himself into work and drink, and misery.

"But she's okay?" Rebecca prompted.

"They're taking her to the hospital." Mustang said. "I should be there."

"Yeah, you should." Rebecca spat out at him, anger rose inside her and replaced the dread. She wasn't cold anymore, she was burning hot, and pissed off. "Maybe while you're there you could think about doing a better job of protecting her."

There was a teeny, tiny voice inside her head, which sounded an awful lot like Riza, that told her she was being unfair. That yelling at Mustang wouldn't make anything better, that it wouldn't take back the bullet that had lodged itself inside her best friend, and that in the long run it wouldn't make her feel any better.

Rebecca Catalina firmly told that voice to shut up.

"I didn't just let her get shot!" Mustang insisted.

"Oh really? So why isn't she here and telling me to watch my mouth?" Rebecca countered. "You were supposed to keep her safe and now she's-"

Her eyes burned, but she didn't want to cry. Especially not in front of him. But she was tired, and sore, and scared, and she couldn't help it. She cracked and crumbled, and Mustang was hugging her, his bloodied hands patting her back awkwardly as she sobbed harshly against his shoulder. She wished Jean was here instead, it was his comfort she wanted, not Mustang's. But he wasn't here, and Mustang was. "I know, Catalina. I'm sorry, I'm so sorry." He mumbled just loud enough for her to hear. "You're right. I should've protected her."

"We can't lose her." Rebecca said, although it came out mixed with sobs and she was surprised he even caught her meaning. "I can't go through that again."

"Me either." Mustang admitted. And held her until her sobs turned to hiccups and she broke away from his embrace and wiped her face.

"Tell no one this happened." Rebecca insisted, once she was calm enough to speak. "I'm going to help Breda, then we're going to the hospital. The others are in Safehouse three."

"I'll fill them in."

***

Riza didn't dream while they tried to repair her damaged body. What she saw weren't dreams. They weren't the surreal imaginings of her subconscious turned into a strange reality that would pass upon waking and disappear into the part of the mind that stored such things, never to be recalled.

No. Riza didn't dream.

Riza remembered.

The moments of her life that had been foggy became clear, moments that had been forgotten to experimentation returned. Riza's life played out for her like a movie in her mind. She remembered her childhood, her father, her decision to join the military, meeting Rebecca, her first kill, her time in Ishval, her time with Roy, her time as his adjutant, the Promised Day, and everything in between.

She remembered what they did to her. How they tried to turn her into a killing machine for some discarded military officer with too much money, charisma, and time. She remembered how she didn't break. How she clung to the Colonel's last order, even when she'd forgotten his face and her own name. How they took that from her, and she broke loose.

Riza remembered everything.