#I feel a bit bad for writing Roy and Riza like that | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

purplemaple-xoxo · 6 years ago

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Groomzilla Chap 2

Slowly getting back into writing! Doing these revisions have helped a bit, which I’m grateful for! Hope you enjoy and let me know if anything is extremely OOC (a lil bit is expected with this) ENJOY!!

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"Sir, I would appreciate it if you wouldn't breathe down my neck like this. It's quite distracting." Riza spoke from her desk in Roy's office. Roy was currently leaning over her shoulder trying to see how she was doing with the plans for the reception in 4 days.

"I'm simply observing what you are doing. It's not like you haven't done the exact same thing since you started under my command." Roy mumbled the last part under his breath. Unfortunately for him, it didn't go unheard by Riza.

"Stop being so childish, just because I'm finishing the plans and you're left to deal with the work you're supposed to be doing. Speaking of which, aren't there still some forms regarding trades with Creta that you could be doing rather than focus on me picking place cards and whether the Armstrong's should all be at one table for the reception."

Riza smiled inwardly as Roy begrudgingly straightened up and stomped back over to his desk. He began to start on his paperwork, a deep scowl etching his features. A little while later, an unexpected guest burst through the door.

"I'm surprised you two are working. I would have thought you would be finishing up the plans for the big day." Grumman spoke as he strode into the room.

"I'm suspended from even seeing the plans for the wedding. Apparently, I've been impulsive in regards to the plans." Roy’s scowl grew deeper.

"Don't forget you also scared away some florists and chefs because you freaked out over their selections.”

Roy threw his arms up in the air in a huff, before pointing a finger at the other occupants in the room.

"Okay first off, the florists were completely screwing up the flower arrangements I asked for, secondly the chefs were going to offer Ginger Glazed Breast of Chicken instead of the Beef Bourguignon that I like. That was not what I was going to pay for, so I politely excused them from the premises."

"I wouldn't categorize it as being polite. More like forceful."

"Hey come on you two, don't fight. That's not supposed to happen until well past the honeymoon."

"He's just being a perfectionist. He'll get over it."

"I think there's a better word to describe him, dear," Grumman whispered into Riza's ear, eliciting a small chuckle from her and a frown from Roy since he couldn't hear the exchange.

"I don't know what you said, but I don't like it." Roy's frown deepened when Riza and her grandfather exchanged a glance laced with humour.

Just as Riza was about to try and console her fiancé, someone knocked on the door.

"Sorry to interrupt, but Captain, the photographer is here to see you regarding the locations for the wedding shots after the ceremony," Fuery spoke from the door.

"Thank you Warrant Officer, I'll be out there in a moment," Riza responded with a small smile. Fuery bowed slightly before closing the door behind him.

"I better go deal with this. Keep working on your papers, sir." Riza made sure she maintained eye contact with Roy before leaving the room.

"I was hoping we could have a chess game but I see you have quite a bit of work to catch up on my boy. Give me a call when you have some free time."

And just like that, Roy was left alone in his office with his pile of paperwork. Roy huffed as he slouched in his chair. As he was about to reach for his pen, something caught his eye. He threw a cautionary glance at the door before picking up the item.

-/-/-

Riza was busy discussing the location of where she wanted the photos to be taken and the cost of his services when Havoc interrupted them.

"Hey, Hawkeye. You suspended the Boss from planning the wedding stuff right?"

"Yes." Why did she have a bad feeling of what Havoc was going to say.

"And you said that if he got involved he was banned to the couch."

"What are you getting at First Lieutenant?”

"I just walked past the door and I could have sworn I heard him discussing stuff that sounded an awful lot like wedding details."

Riza pursed her lips and took a deep breath before turning her attention to Fuery. Her voice extremely calm.

"Warrant Officer would you tap the Fuhrer's telephone line please."

"Sure thing Captain."

Fuery began to tap the Fuhrer's line through one of the phones in the outer office. Riza stood by his desk, her arms crossed and her eyes closed. Breda and Havoc gave each other worried looks before discreetly passing betting money to each other. The photographer stood slightly to the side, not sure exactly what he was supposed to be doing.

"All clear," Fuery whispered as he held up the phone to Hawkeye. She took the phone in her grasp and placed it up to her ear. She could hear Roy's quiet tone through the phone.

"...so after the ceremony, the reception will be held in Central City's Grand Hotel in the first ballroom.”

"Yes your Fiancée established that, and the Carnations will be situated..”

"Carnations?! I specifically asked for Tulips for both the ceremony and the reception. Change that at once. And they better be red. Also, add lavender roses to the arrangements."

Riza didn't even bother to wait for whoever Roy was on the phone to respond as she slammed the phone down on the carrier and marched into his office.

"You IDIOT!" She shouted at him from across the office. Roy immediately slammed the phone down into its cradle, not even bothering to speak another word to the person on the other end. He had a bigger problem to deal with.

"Hey, Ri." Roy could hear his own voice shake as he spoke.

"Don't you 'Hey Ri' me. I specifically told you that you weren't allowed to partake in any wedding preparations! But did you listen to me? Of course not! You are so obsessed with every single detail that you have even gone behind my back! What do you have to say for yourself?!"

"Sorry Riza, I just want everything to be perfect on our special day."

Riza took a deep breath before exhaling and walking over to her desk, her hands clenched at her sides.

"I'm going out with Rebecca, I better not see you at home until all of your paperwork is done."

Roy just sat there as he watched Riza's tense back leave his office. Riza was so filled with rage that she didn't fully register the outer room's occupants as they scurried out of her path.

"First Lieutenant Havoc, make sure he finishes his work. I'll personally pay you overtime if need be. And make sure he stays away from the phone."

And with that, Riza marched out of the office. Leaving three nervous subordinates, a guilty Fuhrer, and a confused photographer in her wake.

"Hear that Mustang looks like I'm in charge now so.. HEY! Put that phone down!" Havoc shouted at Roy, who quickly threw the phone down, completely missing the cradle.

"This is going to be harder than I thought." Havoc mumbled to himself, "Hey Captain, he's doing it again!" Havoc shouted after Riza.

"Shut up Havoc!"

-/-/-

"He's that bad huh? Roy-boy gets that from his father for sure." Madame Christmas spoke across the bar to a stressed out Riza and an amused Rebecca.

"I just can't get over the fact that you're actually going through banning him to the couch! You have him wrapped around your little finger!" Rebecca spoke with a laugh.

"He went behind my back. I'm doing this for his own good."

"You know he is going to try to pull every charm he has in his arsenal tonight."

"Yes, I'm aware of that Rebecca."

"It's a good thing you've developed an invincibility of sorts to his charm then," Christmas spoke as she cleaned a glass with a towel.

"I just can't wait for this all to be over. That way we can go back to the way things were before." Riza spoke as she leaned forward slightly on the counter.

"I hate to break the news to you Riza, but your life hasn't exactly been normal." Riza just rolled her eyes at Rebecca’s comment as she took a sip of water.

"You know he has developed a new little quirk."

Rebecca and Christmas raised an eyebrow at the random comment.

"He can get quirkier?" Rebecca asked astonished. "I thought the quirkiness stopped at the Miniskirt clause."

"When he is stressed he massages his palms, the right in particular.It's most likely due to the multiple scarring on that hand.. I only saw him do it on occasion before, but now he does it almost constantly. Especially within the last month.”

"Want me to have a talk with him? I could straighten him up a bit." Christmas spoke as she lit a cigarette and took a drag.

"I have no doubt about that, but I can handle him. Hopefully, he won't be too stubborn."

"Trust me Riza, once Roy knows how worried you are, I'm sure he'll snap out of it. If you haven't noticed, he will always put you first and it tears him apart if something is wrong with you. He'll back down."

"Thanks, Rebecca, I guess that's what I needed to hear."

"As I said before, he certainly is a lot like his father. I remember how stressed he was over every little detail and making it perfect for Roy's mother. I actually had to knock him out the night before the wedding so he would actually get a decent amount of sleep." Christmas took a long drag from her smoke before giving the women in front of her, her full attention. "I can do the same thing to Roy if you want."

"I'll take that into consideration," Riza spoke as the clock across the bar chimed.

"We better go, Rebecca, we still have quite a lot to do, thank you for the drinks, Madame," Riza spoke as she got up from her bar stool.

"Anytime but before you go, could you please come here for a moment Elizabeth."

Riza raised an eyebrow as she approached the Madame who had walked around the counter to stand in front of her. Christmas then took her hand and placed it on Riza’s shoulder.

"Just remember that he is acting this way because he loves you. He's just making up for lost time." The corner of Christmas' lip quirked into the Mustang smirk as she squeezed her hand. Riza returned the smile before heading out the door after Rebecca.

-/-/-

Riza groaned when she heard the bedroom door creak open and buried her face into her pillow, she was tired from running around with Rebecca finishing errands for the wedding after talking with Madame Christmas and she didn't want to put up with this at 2:00 in the morning.

"Roy get back to the couch." Now that sounded familiar.

"Unfortunately I planned on it, just came to get your pillow," Roy spoke as he grabbed the corner of the pillow in which Riza's head resided on.

"My pillow? Why do you need my pillow?" Riza asked as she felt her upper body be raised slightly off the bed.

"Because if I can't share a bed with you, the least you could do is provide me with something that smells like you. I love the way you smell." Roy responded.

Riza finally opened her eyes and raised an inquisitive eyebrow.

"You know I usually sleep nuzzled in your hair and I can't do that now since I really messed up. At least take some pity on me and give me your pillow." Roy responded.

"I don't know, you didn't listen to me so you have to pay the price." Luckily the dark gloom of the room hid Roy's devious smirk. Before Riza knew it, her pillow was deftly swiped from under her head.

"ROY!" But before Riza could reprimand him, she felt her pillow get placed over the back of her head and a mass drape itself over her body. It was a Roy sandwich.

"This is way better than the couch." Riza could hear Roy's voice through the fabric as she felt him nuzzle into the pillow on her head, his arms wrapped around her waist.

"I'm going to give you to the count of three Roy," Riza spoke venomously.

When Roy didn't move and she felt his body relax she started to countdown.

"Three... two... one... Hayate!"

Before Roy knew it Hayate, who was previously fast asleep at the bottom of the bed, barrelled right into Roy's side, the force shoving Roy off of Riza and onto the floor. Unfortunately, with Roy's arms still wrapped around her, Riza fell down in tandem, landing directly on top of Roy and dazing them both.

"After all of that, do I still have to sleep on the couch?" Roy spoke after a couple minutes of silence. He waited for an answer but one never came.

"Riza?" Roy gently brushed her fringe away from her face, realizing that she had fallen asleep.

“She is so exhausted and it's all my fault.” Roy carefully stood up and lifted Riza back onto the bed. He returned her pillow and covered her with blankets once again. He took a moment to study her features before bending to kiss her on the cheek, grabbing his own pillow and walking out of the room in search of his new arch enemy, the dreaded couch.

#I feel a bit bad for writing Roy and Riza like that #but they are both tired!!#royai #riza hawkeye #roy mustang #fma fanfiction #fmab #fma #pms writing #my writing #shut up pm #groomzilla

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firewoodfigs · 3 years ago

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Hi!! Could you do "It was a hospital bed, and A slipped in carefully to lie beside B all night" for a Royai fic from that prompt list? Thank you!! ❤️❤️

hello anon!! thanks for the prompt aaaah I had a lot of fun toying with it in between work and the other shenanigans that have been cropping up this week <3 I hope you don't mind the somewhat unusual ending ahaha I dimly recall writing a few other fics indirectly responding to this prompt (here and here!) so I wanted to try something slightly different from my usual fare 👉🏻👈🏻 part of this was also originally from a two-shot I'm working on, tweaked to fit the prompt hehe. I hope you enjoy!!! 🥰

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Riza can think of a million reasons why hospitals are awful.

First, the food. She’s not sure if it’s as nutritious as they make it out to be; there are times when she wonders if it’s even edible. She’s had worse, of course - hospital food isn’t as bad as ration bars - but she’s quickly getting tired of eating plain yoghurt and bland porridge every day, for every single meal.

Second, the stench. Riza hates that every inch of the place smells like a victim of obsessive cleanliness; she has to resist the urge to upchuck every time the door opens and the smell of chemicals and antiseptic filters in like an unwanted guest.

Third, the fact that she’s sharing a room with a man who, at this point, is behaving more like a cat on hot bricks than a disciplined soldier is quickly driving her insane. She’d readily agreed to be his caretaker, of course; Riza doubts there’s anyone else capable of dealing with his antics and ever-growing anxiety. But after hearing him sigh and toss and turn in his bed for the fifty-eighth time that night (she’d counted, because she was bored out of her wits, and there was nothing else she could do other than sleep or stare at the ceiling, per doctor’s orders), Riza decides she’s just about had enough.

She looks at him from her bed. He’s presently engaged with twiddling his thumbs, thinking out loud.

Riza sighs and rises from her bed quietly. She brings the IV stand along with her - an unnecessary inconvenience - and carefully slips into his bed once she’s made sure that the tubes and wires connected to them are tangle-free.

“I never pegged you as an opportunist, Lieutenant,” he murmurs, despite her best efforts to be discreet. “Sleeping with your commanding officer while he’s blind?”

“You could always court martial me later, sir,” Riza deadpans. “Now scoot over.”

Luckily, he obliges without much retort.

“Your wish is my command.”

Riza huffs. She adjusts the thin, scraggly piece of linen that the hospital justifies as a blanket - another downside of this shitty place - and makes sure he’s probably covered, warm.

“Three words,” she mutters.

“Eight letters?”

“Twelve, actually.”

Roy raises a brow. “What could it be?”

“Would you like to wager a guess, sir?”

“Not really.”

“You’re an idiot,” she says. Roy laughs, and it’s a tiny little sound that is so discordant with his current mood, but it’s at least genuine. “Now go to sleep.”

“Alright, alright.”

He stops fidgeting, for a while. Riza closes her eyes and attempts to fall asleep - and she actually does, for a while - at least until she hears the sheets rustling again, the movement and tension coming from beside her. She groans softly.

“You should sleep, sir.”

She feels him stiffen. Roy smiles sheepishly, looking right through her like she’s not there. It still unnerves her how this is probably going to be their new normal: him without his sight. Her as his eyes.

“Sorry.”

Riza frowns. An apology is not the answer she wants. What she wants is for him - or them both, actually - to sleep and rest and properly recuperate so that they can have a speedy recovery, so that they can get out of here as soon as possible.

“Bad dreams?” she asks, because it’s the exact same thing that’s been haunting her. (She’s lucky her throat makes it impossible for her to scream or kick up a fuss; she’d hate for Roy to stumble blindly through the room in what he probably thinks is an act of chivalry and/or heroism.)

He shrugs.

“Then and now,” he offers. His smile fades, and he lapses into an unexpected moment of vulnerability. “Hard to differentiate between day and night nowadays, too.”

And because Riza doesn’t know what to say, she simply brushes her knuckles against his.

Roy returns the gesture, drawing indiscernible patterns on the back of her hand with his bandaged one.

“Well, it’s almost midnight now, sir.”

He lets out a small laugh, but it’s painfully hollow.

Riza shifts slightly. It’s a bit of a tight squeeze - hospital beds are clearly not meant for two persons (or anything inappropriate) - but it doesn’t bother her all that much. She just wishes there’s more she can do, to comfort him. Make him feel a little less gloomy.

“It feels like I’ve been sleeping for years.”

“If it helps reduce the incidents of you falling asleep during office hours, then you should get more sleep now, while you can.”

Roy turns, like he’s searching for her, even though there’s not much closer she can be at this point. He exhales shakily. She feels his hand trembling against hers, and responds with a gentle caress. (She knows he’s still feeling guilty, probably berating himself internally about their predicament, about what transpired beforehand. And to be fair, there’s a part of her that’s still angry about all that's happened underground. They’ll probably have to talk about it, at some point, but probably not now — not when they’re both still drugged up and only half-lucid.)

“Humour me, Lieutenant.”

“What?”

“I can’t sleep,” he confesses. Dimly, Riza notes that his voice has taken on a somewhat petulant edge — like a child complaining about their bedtime, but she doesn’t comment on it. Being nearly bedridden for a week is enough to drive her nuts, too. “I’ve tried counting sheep and all that shit, and it’s just — it’s not working.”

Riza sighs. She’s tired, yes, but she’s also aware that she’s probably not going to get any sleep at this rate. She tries to think of ways to stave off his restlessness. Reading is one — she can probably bore him into sleep with a Xingese recitation (she’s gotten pretty good at that lately), but she’s technically not supposed to be talking much. Alcohol is another, but neither of them are supposed to be drinking (and besides, the only form of alcohol available in hospitals isn’t meant for human consumption). Maybe chess, then. She’s not particularly keen on playing a game of chess, now (because she just wants to sleep), but she thinks it’ll help exhaust some of his boundless energy.

“We could play a game of chess, if you want. Breda was kind enough to drop a vinyl board here in the afternoon.”

“I can’t see —“

“I’ll tell you where I move my pieces.”

He frowns, clearly not liking the idea. “You’re not supposed to be talking much, Lieutenant.”

“I’m fine,” she insists, turning to pour a cup of water for herself before continuing. “I won’t have to speak much — unless you’re being a nuisance or a cheat or a fraud.”

He laughs. “I’ll be none of those things, Lieutenant.”

“Good.”

She sets up the board on his bed and helps him sit up. Riza lets him play white.

“It’s your move, sir.”

“You’ve made yours?”

“No. You’re playing white.”

“Tough. It’ll be more embarrassing if I end up losing.”

Riza smiles. “Well, we don’t know that yet, sir.”

He opens with pawn to e4. She helps him move his pieces and parrots her movements back to him. Pawn to e4, too. Pawn to d4. Same here. A closed game, not quite like his usual aggressive style of playing.

Riza watches as he frowns with intensity. It’s probably more a test of memory than strategy for him at this point. She wonders if there’s a way he can adapt to chess, to the military’s utilitarian (and frankly unsympathetic) demands now that his sight’s impaired.

(Life is so unlike chess, Riza thinks, in spite of Roy’s silly metaphors that postulate otherwise. The rules are never fixed, and the universe is always rife with uncertainty. It’s not like chess, where you can predict your opponents’ moves if you get good enough. Neither of them had expected that he’d be here right now, losing sleep and contemplating life over a chessboard while blind.)

He clucks his tongue, reciting a series of movements from memory. The Blackmar-Diemer. Riza smiles indulgently.

Still as aggressive as ever, sir.

Of course.

The game quickly becomes a round of blitz, and though he manages to open his lines and mount a rather decent attack, it’s clear that he has trouble recalling after the eighteenth move. It's still an impressive feat, though. Better than the average layperson.

“Check,” Riza announces, conversationally. Technically, she’d had the advantage, both on the board (and in real life). It shouldn’t really count, and besides, checkmate isn’t her objective — it’s to get her commanding office to sleep.

“Well-played,” Roy hums. He’s strangely still in his bed as he closes his eyes, rubbing at his temples — presumably to ease off an oncoming migraine. It happens a lot, when he’s in deep thought, when he’s over thinking. Thinking too much for his own good. “I need to work on my recall, I think.”

“I think so too, sir.”

He laughs, but the sound is again empty, foreign. It is so at odds with his usual smirks and unbridled laughter (when he’s laughing at someone else, or a joke made at somebody’s expense), like there’s an ache beneath the surface that she cannot reach.

Roy turns slightly, bumping into his dethroned king as he adjusts himself on the bed.

She blames the sudden, uncharacteristic urge to cry on her drugged-up system.

(Riza doesn’t think she’ll ever get used to how uncommunicative his eyes are. He’s always regarded each and every one of his subordinates with respect and meaning and gratitude, but he’d simply looked over the unit as if taking inventory when they had come by earlier.

But she’ll make do, Riza thinks. She has to. She’s always known him in a way nobody else has, in a deeply intimate way, like a book she’s memorised by heart.)

They fall silent for a few minutes. His lips part a little - she knows he’s about to say something - but it snaps shut again, like he can’t bring himself to say the words.

Riza simply waits for him, like she always has; holding onto his held breath like it's the last thread of hope. She leans into his touch a little closer than necessary.

I’m right here, even if you can’t see me.

Roy smiles.

“I hope I won’t forget your face, Riza.”

#royai #royai fanfic #royai fic #sorry my lunch break is almost over so I gotta go back to work LOL but I will come back and edit this later AHAHAHAH #my new brand is 'excessive usage of chess metaphors' and man. it shows.......#lovely anon <3 #have a great week anon!!! mwahmwahmwah!!!!!!#reblogs and comments are always appreciated :")

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astridthevalkyrie · 4 years ago

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Do you think AOT is better than FMAB?

sorry not sorry for the blunt answer but no, never, not in a million years, not even close, not for a number of reasons.

few reasons under the cut, because apparently I’m doing this instead of focusing in class. obviously there will be spoilers for both shows, and obviously some of this will be based on personal preference.

1. Genocide/Oppression

so both shows have some vivid imagery of nazi germany. bradley is addressed as the fuhrer in fmab, and the eldians wear stars on their sleeves in aot. and even if the aot writer wasn’t pretty much confirmed to be a nationalist and raging anti-semite, it’s rather painfully obvious which show handles it better.

in aot, the eldians are oppressed because they can turn into titans and were originally trying to take over the world or something, which is so blatantly anti-semitic that it’s terrible. shows are allowed to tackle these kinds of topics, but they should handle them well, not be a stand in for nazi propaganda. this is something so many fucking shows do wrong whenever they make an oppressed group of people - there’s always somehow a reason for having them be oppressed. take bbc merlin. wizards are oppressed because they can do magic and so they’re dangerous, just like how eldians can turn into titans and so they’re dangerous, and that’s a bad thing to imply, because it implies that jewish people somehow deserved what happened to them and that’s a fucking dangerous idea to put into an already anti-semitic world.

and that’s exactly why i was so relieved and appreciative of how fmab did the battle of ishval. it is clear who the bad guys are in that scenario, and it’s clear that it was never deserved and that the soldiers who carried it out are war criminals and deserve to be put into jail. riza says as much herself. while i think scar shouldn’t have been as guilted as he was (sure, he shouldn’t go after innocent people, but him killing winry’s parents is not comparable to what happened to him and doesn’t put all of them on equal footing), i was pleasantly surprised that he lived and wasn’t killed off in some stupid form of “redemption.” if roy deserved to live, so did scar, a hundred times over.

2. Characters

characters in fmab are done ridiculously better than in aot. let’s compare similar characters!

edward and eren - the protagonists

up until the third season onwards, eren is very one dimensional and uninteresting. he’s entertaining, but his one and only goal is killing the titans and it’s super frustrating because they lay down the groundwork for more, but it’s never really addressed. show more how he cares about his friends, show him dealing with his trauma through anger and how it’s unhealthy. (actually, a lot of problems could be fixed if they showed more of the cadets’ training days. i feel like i wasn’t feeling as betrayed by annie and reiner and bertholdt because i never really felt they were that close to eren.)

ed is a delightful main character. he too is angry and doesn’t mind talking with his fists, but at the same time, he’s starchly against killing anyone and has multiple goals. ofc his primary one is getting their bodies back, but when he finds himself in the conspiracy about amestris, he doesn’t hesitate before making that his problem as well. every relationship he has is wonderful. i could get bored with eren on the screen, i wasn’t bored with ed.

armin and alphonse - the deuteragonists

i’m sorry but armin is literally just “the smart one.” that’s it. he’s also the dreamer but it only comes up when they’re about to do something dangerous.

i feel like i don’t even need to go into how good of a character al is? he’s very obviously multifaceted and the epitome of sweet and badass at the same time.

winry and mikasa - the love intests-ish

i don’t like referring to either of them like that, but while mikasa is the tritagonist (or deuteragonist, her and armin can interchange there), winry is not.

and surprise, surprise, this is actually where i’m not so sure winry comes out on top. mikasa is, in my opinion, the most interesting out of the trio. she also has a very single-minded goal, but seeing her interact with other characters (armin, jean, levi) who either fall in line or disagree with that goal is fun to watch. she’s also obviously super competent and i have a thing for competent characters.

winry is a good character and i love her, but it’s always bothered me how out of place her scenes feel in relation to the entire show. and as much as i know it doesn’t deter her agency, there’s just something off about ed telling her to have an apple pie waiting for them. it actually brings in one of my few problems with fmab. while its female are pretty good, they’re far from perfect, and that’s because nearly all of them exist because of their relation to the more important male character. winry is ed’s mechanic and the elrics’ family friend. riza is roy’s lieutenant. lan fan is ling’s bodyguard. izumi is the elrics’ teacher. i’m not saying that’s all they are, but this is a major part of their role in the story (olivier and mei stand out as female characters with goals relating to themselves and not a guy around them.)

so who’s the better character? mikasa is more fierce and winry has better lines that aren’t just calling out the protag’s name. i’m gonna give it to winry, but by a short shot.

roy and levi - the op fan favorites

this one’s much easier. roy is not just a badass who’s also the hero’s direct superior like levi is, he’s a person with clearcut goals and weaknesses and he has to make sacrifices and work for what he wants. levi has all the makings for a great character, a tragic backstory and a chill personality, but he doesn’t have a reason to stay in the scouts, he just...does. out of loyalty to erwin, i guess? it’s not clear and it’s even worse if you don’t watch the ova. roy’s reasons are clear and relatable. he also has a dorky and endearing side, plus the political side of things he brings to fmab is interesting and an equally important part of the story. his fight with envy is satisfying and thrilling. levi’s fight with the beast titan, while it is super well animated and cool, kiiiinda falls flat because there was no set-up for him being the one to take the beast titan down (should have been connie). it also ends a bit too fast, honestly.

but hey, you say, aren’t you the one writing 15k worth of fanfiction for levi within two weeks? didn’t see you writing that much for roy. yeah, well, unfortunately, my attraction doesn’t determine the better character and i never said i was proud of this, please leave me alone.

there’s more comparisons i could make - carla and trisha, hohenheim and grisha (ha, trisha and grisha rhyme), roy can also be compared to erwin, there’s multple side characters, but fmab wins, you guys get it.

3. The Story, Plot, Deaths

listen, i get it. aot is a bloody, brutal show and you’re not supposed to get attached to characters. i’m not gonna complain about pointless deaths, because that in itself is the point. it’s like twd or got, it’s gonna have lots of death. but the deaths don’t have to be so stupid. i’m specifically thnking of levi’s squad, because the way they die is so dumb. gunther should not be taken down by a cadet, petra shouldn’t be flying so close to the ground, oluo should know not to engage the female titan alone. these were elite titan killers, they knew not to be stupid. there were ways to kill them off without making them look so stupid. and if there’s not, consider not killing them off just for shock value.

fmab’s deaths mean something, especially since one of its central messages is that life is precious, no matter whose it is. everyone’s life means something and no one dies in vain.

there’s more i could go into, but i just spent my entire classtime doing this and now my second one for the day is about to start, sooo i think i’ll stop here. thanks for the ask!

#fmab #anti aot #anti fmab #at some parts #aot is anti-semitic please be careful when watching it and think about the media you're consuming

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thorne-archive · 4 years ago

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fic recs!!

posting this because my percynet friends were practically begging me to post this with the pjo hyperlinks haha also featuring ridiculous fangirling comments by yours truly

features fandoms: HP, ACOTAR, PJO, and FMA

features (mainly) ships: drastoria, scorose, elriel, percabeth, jasper, and royai

— harry potter (I’m currently in love with draco x astoria and scorpius x rose)

warmth by littlemissmadness (drastoria oneshot!!! it’s so cute!!! a lil heartbreaking at first but i just - ugh!!!)

amor quod fecimus by jillian bowes (some consecutive drastoria oneshots, very cute!!)

a long time coming by helloimsabrina (drastoria comfort fic :)

finding hope by insertcleverandwittytitlehere (cute drastoria oneshot)

the way you look tonight by you-make-me-wander

shouldn’t by reppad98

blood, war and a touch of love by controlled climb

the dragon and the star maiden by boogum

the kiss thief by boogum

of sunflowers and rainydays by rosescor90 (scorose oneshot!!!!!)

the feeling of vindication by howlsatthemoon

worst of a bad bunch by graeliars (teddy/victoire oneshot fic hehe)

a kiss with a fist by superspy (jily oneshot :)

the smart one by nikkira (scorose oneshot, in which scorpius and rose are lowkey academic rivals; this is pure fluff)

off limits by livetodream (the! cutest! scorose! oneshot!!!)

when you grow up by drcjsnider (scorpius pining after rose? I think y e s)

the unnecessarily racy by anaela loves who (humorous jily oneshot feat. a jealous lily)

— acotar (mostly elriel fanfics sorry lol)

lover by @julesherondalex on tumblr! (an elriel roommates au!! okay but the angst and pining here made me SOB like three times over, 10/10 recommend!)

all of me by julesherondalex (I just love this writing style and there’s so much fluff and pining I cant-)

home in hogwarts by julesherondalex (elriel at hogwarts!! what more could you want?)

enchanted by julesherondalex (elain’s pining for azriel in this is 100/100 omg)

flight mode love by julesherondalex (elriel!coffee shop au!!!)

love me tonight by julesherondalex (you best believe I cried reading this! another elriel fanfic set in the canonverse)

the scent of you by julesherondalex (elriel au, angst with a happy ending! this one also made me cry really hard)

a little piece of your heart by julesherondalex (elriel confession in azriel’s pov!!)

a secret admirer by @florrama on tumblr! (short au elriel fic, very heartwarming!)

a seasonal love by florrama (more elriel? I think yes!!)

a shadow’s kiss by florrama (a collection of elriel oneshots!! they! are! so! soft!!!)

perfect strangers by @rosehallshadowsinger (short and sweet elriel au)

gifts from the heart by rosehallshadowsinger (the pining!!! so cute :)

stars hold no power over us by stardustsroses (a little explicit but so very cute :’) I love the concept of elain choosing who she loves and not having a bond define it for her)

this collection of short elriel oneshots by @a-novel-blog (so well written and so soft!!! I love gentle!elriel)

‘cause by @noodlecatposts (best friends feysand au that made me smile :’)

gingersnap! by noodlecatposts (this is so cute! and so soft! in which azriel is allergic to cats, and elain has one)

stay by noodlecatposts (I am. such. a sucker for best friends to lovers fics. the pining in this made me wanna cry I love this)

bite me, asshole by accidental_optimism (nessian oneshot! mostly revolves around cassian taking care of a sick nesta)

distractions by @rhysanoodle (a super cute and fluffy elriel coffee shop au!!)

is that my shirt? by rhysanoodle (a cute elriel oneshot that had me screeching!!)

perfectly aligned by rhysanoodle (over 200k word fic about elriel falling in love, includes smut)

dreams answered by @radientwings (a collection of oneshots, the elriel ones made me sob with joy)

songs of shadow by radientwings (a collection of elriel stories...the writing style is so perfect and I love it)

to flower by literarynonsensefics (short and sweet elriel oneshot hehe)

sharing sunsets by librarian of velaris (elriel & sunsets & fluff :)

navy suits & chelsea boots by feathery_malignancy (fair warning, the latter 2 chapters have smut but y’all...the pining in this? unmatched!!!)

call out my name by myownremedy (azriel pining for elain!!! so cute :’) but also pls be aware that the last like 1/3 of this fic is like. smut. but with like fluff mixed in lol)

long shot by myownremedy (listen. I will never tire of elriel coffee aus)

cake & kisses by @mehlisssa (in which elriel is expecting and display pure domestic fluff tHIS IS THE CUTEST ONESHOT EVER)

bloom by swishandflickwit (elriel fluff which is SO CUTE and also followed by smut, but at least it’s not too explicit)

— percy jackson

a storm in my best dress by herecomesthepun (percabeth soulmate au? say less! oh but also it’s lowkey enemies to friends and also a high school au! also jasper is the stable relationship 10/10 love that for them!! very long, very good :)

kiss me once 'cause you know i had a long night by herecomesthepun (GUYS THIS IS SO GOOD I ACTUALLY CACKLED LMAOOO the dialogue is *chefskiss* and jason fawning over piper is also *chefskiss* also this is an office percabeth/jasper oneshot, absolutely amazing)

‘cause you’ve been sinning in this city by @seaweedbraens (percabeth soulmate au in which percy calls everyone by some vaguely related nickname lol)

don’t you let it go by seaweedbraens (percabeth rebirth au with a twist; I SOBBED SO MUCH THIS WAS SO GOOD IM STILL CRYING)

if I were to pluck on your heartstrings by seaweedbraens (percabeth soulmate au with moodstrings!!)

would you strum on mine by seaweedbraens (companion piece to the fic above!!!)

and they were roommates by @bipercabeth (look. I’m a sucker for roommate aus)

I’ll go anywhere with you by bipercabeth (THIS IS SO FREAKING SOFT I COULD CRY OKAY??? ACTUALLY I AM CRYING!!! road trippin percabeth babey!!)

just because i had “spider” sense doesn’t mean i had common sense by bipercabeth (jasper spiderman au, ITS SO SOFT AND I WENT FERAL AT THIS LINE “She inhales, and Jason swears she takes the breath from his lungs. He’d give it to her, if she asked” PLS READ IT ITS SO GOOD IM SOBBING)

I like me better when I’m with you by @cressisaqueen (a tatbilb jasper au!!!!)

my yesterday was blue, today I’m a part of you by pastypirate (a series on how the HOO couples meet as soulmates hehe)

greek dramas and other spectacles by annabetncnase (a percabeth friends to lovers college au!!!)

california howl by suneater (I haven’t read this yet but it features werewolf!jason ans jasper content hehe)

if it’s you and me forever by lesbabeths (piper centric jasper soulmate au set in the canonverse that had me ugly sobbing at 4 am)

dream-like christmas time by @perseannabeth (annabeth gets famous and percy gets left behind, oneshot au)

number one by perseannabeth (percabeth roommate friends to lovers oneshot hehe)

back to the beginning by perseannabeth (percabeth proposal with ties back to the original series!! I loved it 🥺)

everythin' is icy and blue and you are here there too under the mistletoe by perseannabeth (a percabeth fake dating au!! I’ve yet to read it but Marianna is such an amazing writer I have no doubt I’ll love it!!)

sugar, sugar by perseannabeth (another tbr by Marianna on my list haha but the concept of percabeth and jasper meeting over chocolate is just :’)

— fullmetal alchemist (I’ve literally never watched this, but I somehow got obsessed with royai so Uh)

make me better by @lantur (bruh the yearning...I cannot, also beware this contains smut but it’s non graphic, but this fic is centered around roy being blind and riza helping him :)

side to side by lantur (in which royai practices hand to hand combat...the thirst and angst is real damn)

a little bit scandalous by lantur (I cried reading this...yeah)

got your back by lantur (roy’s yearning...I’m gonna cry)

love the way you shine in the night, like the diamond you are by lantur (it starts out funny...and then my heart broke lol)

if you were mine by lantur (so much angst...but take heart! there’s a fluffy ending in sight!)

learning as we go by megthemighty (high school teacher au!! fluffy!!)

are you asleep? by fullmetalscully (fma as a romcom? yes! I cackled while reading this LOL)

royai collections by fullmetalscully (royai oneshots, there’s a mix of angst and fluff. but mostly angst ;-;)

smoke and gunpowder by @eskalations (royai genderbend au!)

some things last a long time by akingdomofunicorns (royai coffee shop au)

against the run of play by bergamots (in which roy is a rugby player and riza is a neurotrauma specialist, I love how this fic includes tweets and articles!!)

you pull me through time by @ohmytheon (100 royai oneshots, so cute!!)

lessons in formality by @royai (royai valentine’s au!! iTS SO SOFT IM SCREAMING)

don’t let your students trick you into an equivalent exchange (a royai teacher au oneshot! say less!!!)

missed opportunities by ohmytheon (royai christmas mistletoe oneshot!!!!)

#fic recs #pjo #hp #acotar #fma #drastoria #scorose #elriel #percabeth #jasper #royai #usercali #tuserclaire #usercal #usershamina #HAVE FUN MY FRIENDS #okay to reblog #yes i know thats a lot shhh

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tsaritsa · 4 years ago

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check my time

firstly; ever write something and be like. oh damn. i wrote that bitch? that's me rn

secondly, this title is taken from rebecca black's friday. shenanigans were had in the royai support group discord in which we were determined to title some fics with that immortal song. come hang with us! it's pretty fun and we only occasionally have so-bad-it's-good ideas like this.

you can also read this over on ao3

It is perhaps, unsurprising, that Major Mustang initially believes that it was because of him that she signed up for service. His idyllicism is perhaps the most enduring trait she has to remember him by: a young man, proudly wearing his blues and speaking of the way he would coax the country in a better, grander, position than where it started. His inherent paternalism – and it is that, he wants to make the country into his image and nothing less – is inherited from her own father. He too, believed, understood, proved that he knew the way forward.

It is a bit of a joke now how personally he seems to take this new knowledge – this was not part of his plan. Perhaps he thought he would return after the war, a decorated hero with new depths to those dark eyes and sweep her off her feet like so many of her dorm sisters have been in recent years. What few letters that do make their way to the estate – and subsequently, months later to the front – are notices of marriage, and once, an invitation to attend herself. Laura had been one of the kinder girls, and a small part of Riza that’s been tucked away between the notches on her rifle would’ve liked to see her in white, watched the celebration with a distance that Laura wouldn’t have questioned or assumed was rude.

But Riza is unable to entertain such fantasies. This country would rather look the other way than acknowledge the cost of this war, the amount of people being flung into the sand just to keep the effort justifiable. There are rumours that another train line has been taken out, and necessary supplies that were already months late will now never arrive. It’s a wonder any letters managed to find their way to her at all.

Major Mustang has a peculiar habit of finding her no matter where she is in the encampment. At first, she pegs it down to coincidence, but later it becomes clearer that he is seeking her out in some fashion, even if most times he refuses to engage with her at all. Perhaps he thinks he can protect her in this way, a careful eye watching from a distance. It is laughable. The distance Riza is able to set between herself and any unwanted target easily outstrips his distance for accuracy. She can and will limit her damage. He razes through it all as if the end result is the only thing that matters. Perhaps that’s true. The reality of bending a land, a people, to your will is never as simple as her superiors make it out to be.

Part of her resents this treatment, resents the hovering that the others in her unit have picked up on. They’re snipers, after all. They’re meant to look at the wider picture, notice small, subtle shifts in the landscape. It takes them a little longer to deduce who he’s trying to shadow, but after another few days of watching him not-wander with not-purpose, her spotter nudges her, faintly tilting his head towards 11 o’clock.

“Perhaps he’s never seen a woman with short hair before. I hear he came from Central – fuckwits, the lot of them.”

Her spotter, Dylan, is a stout young man, with a face that had not lost the fat of his youth until very recently. He, like her, was pushed through quickly, at the pleading of higher-ups who were wholly unprepared for their theatres of war. The two of them are well aware of the incompetence that has resulted in their posting. This knowledge is what protects them more than the briefings they receive.

A tense smile pulls at the edges of her lips. “I have the unfortunate pleasure of being acquainted with him. I would hesitate to paint him with the same brush as the soldiers from the last tour though.”

Dylan scoffs, picking at the cervidae meat the cooks managed to scrounge up. It’s probably a sacred animal in these parts. “Does he think you don’t belong here?”

Riza hums. “I think he envisioned a different future for me. I think I’ve ruined the fantasy.”

The man introduced to her briefly as Maes Hughes seeks her out some weeks later. He is an interesting man. Riza thinks he is like the prisms that fracted light in her Father’s study: she spies different fragments of him, personalities and idiosyncrasies that layer over one another if you view him just so. He is canny and shrewd, and Riza is not surprised that Major Mustang has made his acquaintance. His ability to seek out power and bend it to suit his whims is perhaps the most crucial thing to understand about him. It does not necessarily matter what the substance of the power is, it only matters in how he can exploit it for his personal use.

“Hawkeye,” Maes Hughes says shortly, deliberately stepping into pace with her as she moves through the camp. She had been seeking some rest. She knows now that that will be difficult to do unless she plays his game.

“Captain Hughes,” she responds, dipping her head in acknowledgment. It is perhaps a little ruder for a greeting than other superiors would allow, but Riza surmises that Maes Hughes doesn’t care much for inane rules and pageantry out here. He is not thriving in this environment, merely surviving like her.

“This isn’t about Roy,” he begins, and Riza appreciates the bluntness. “Well, not from him. But I thought we could talk.”

Riza inclines her head to the outer encampment, the side that overlooks into the valley. It’s never as busy here, particularly in the afternoon as the sun sinks down over the mountains and the desert chill begins to set in. “What about?” She will make him work for this conversation. She is well aware of who could – would – be privy to it.

Hughes is quiet for a moment as he leans against one of the tent poles. “I confess I’m curious about the two of you. Roy is fiercely protective of you. Others are beginning to notice.”

“He’s stubborn like that.”

“Is there a reasonable explanation for his behaviour?”

Part of Riza thinks it would be rather funny to divulge her secrets again. Make his power and devastation inert by granting everyone the same ability that he wields so selfishly, covets even more so. But it’s a passing fancy, a fantasy she’ll never get to fully realise, much like the goals she imagines he had in place for her. Hughes has already played some of his cards by investigating what he’s already identified to be Mustang’s weakest link, and Riza feels it’s only fair to work within the estimation he has already formed of her. She will never let her back be used against her again. Major Mustang put paid to that lesson for her.

“His alchemy apprenticeship was a few houses down from where I lived. There weren’t many young people in the village. We were… acquaintances, I suppose,” she begins, testing the words on her tongue. Dylan hadn’t needed a story to assess Major Mustang. He didn’t need to be convinced of anything he couldn’t already surmise from looking at him.

“Perhaps he was sweet on me; I confess I never paid much attention, as my father was a sick man and required almost all of my attention. It was strange to realise that one of the soldiers I saved was someone I knew –” the parapraxis isn’t lost on her but Hughes’ face is impassive, waiting. Either he was a good listener or what he was suspicious of had not been confirmed so far. “ – Maybe it is strange for him too,” she concludes, rubbing the muscle that connects her thumb to the fleshy part of her palm.

Hughes appears to mull over her words. “He must be very sweet on you, then.” There’s a warning nestled in that sentence, an acknowledgment that he caught her use of tense just as he corrects her on which is the truth – what he knows is the truth.

Riza rolls her shoulders slowly. “I wouldn’t assume to know his feelings on the matter. He hasn’t talked to me since our last meeting. In all honesty, Captain, I don’t think there is much to talk about either. We’re just ghosts in each other’s pasts.”

“He doesn’t treat you like a ghost.”

“My spotter has come to calling him that. He always seems to lingering like some forgotten shade.”

Hughes pushes himself off the tent pole he was leaning against, shoving his hands into his pockets. Riza was right, he is a clever man – knows better than to needle someone continually for information they’re not willing to part with yet. His patience would undoubtedly be tempering some of Major Mustang’s worst impulses. Maybe that’s why he hasn’t approached her again.

“I just felt warning you would be the right thing to do,” he says. “Considering I’m now not alone in my understandings.”

Riza blinks slowly. “Thank you for the warning, Captain Hughes,” she replies. He probably thinks he’s being kind, extending a hand to the young ingénue who’s out of her depth in a horror that’s only halfway done. Maybe Major Mustang had crafted that story for Hughes as well; of his role in this story he still seems to be writing. He is the hero. They are the supporting cast as much as the sand they stand on.

I thought you’d wait for me; he had hissed over the campfire at their first meeting.

I thought you’d help people; she had taunted as the embers sunk into the ash.

#fullmetal alchemist #royai #riza hawkeye #maes hughes #fma #my fanfic #been a while so why not just sink my teeth into my fav hobby #aka riza murking the fuck outta roy's character

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aquietwritingcorner · 3 years ago

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Embers of Revelation

Author: RealityBreakGirl/aquietlearningcorner Word Count: 8269 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: 6 of 7 Summary: Tasked by Fuhrer Grumman to investigate a suspected alchemic incident, General Mustang’s team finds themselves stranded in Hawkeye’s hometown. Needing a place to stay, they find themselves taking shelter in her childhood home. However, her past can’t stay buried there, and as revelations come to light, they also bring embers of danger with them. Sequel to Embers in a Wounded Heart AO3 || ff.net

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Chapter 5

Havoc made his way back downstairs and followed the voices around until he found Mustang in the dining room with the documents that they had laid out. He, Breda, and the sheriff were looking over them.

“Hey boss,” he said. “What’s going on?”

Mustang looked over at him. “How were Hawkeye and Fuery?”

“Alright,” he said. “Both were worried about the other. Fuery feels guilty, and the drug kinda lowered Hawkeye’s walls, so she’s a bit more emotional than usual.”

It was his way of saying that she was worried and scared, and she knew that the team would pick up on it. He was sure that the Sheriff could read between the lines as well, but most people were polite enough not to push when something was clearly being framed in a private way. The sheriff appeared to be one of those people.

“So, what’s going on out back?” Havoc asked, curious about the noise that he was hearing. It was still going on.

“Falman looked through the records in town,” Breda said, “and found evidence that there was a door that led from the outside the basement. No one is exactly sure when it was covered up, but it was. Right now, we’ve got men out there, digging to find it.”

“Why?” Havoc said. “He wasn’t getting through that way, if we have to dig to find it.” If he had been, surely they would have seen some sign of it.”

“If he was using alchemy to cover his tracks, he might have,” Mustang said. “But with the ground as saturated as it’s been, the rain would have washed away any signs of alchemy used on the ground.”

“We also want to know for security’s sake,” Breda said. “Even if he wasn’t getting in that way, if there’s a tunnel, or staircase or some other sort of opening, then we need to know so that we can guard against it.”

“Right,” Havoc said. “That makes sense.” He paused, looking towards the kitchen and the back door. “So, who’s out there?”

“Most of the men that came back with you,” the sheriff said, “and that other fellow of yours. Lieutenant Farman or something.”

“Falman,” Mustang corrected him

“Falman,” the sheriff immediately corrected himself. “Can’t get it to stick in my head for some reason.”

People always seemed to have a hard time remembering Falman, or his accomplishments and Havoc thought it was tragically ironic, considering that the man had that fantastical memory that he did. He was kind of like Sheska, in that, and Havoc had a brief chill thinking about the unholy memory that would be produced if the two of them ever got together and had children.

“I’m about to head out and check on the progress,” Breda said. “You wanna come?” he asked Havoc.

Havoc shrugged. “Might as well. Might pick up a shovel and help.”

“No, you won’t,” Mustang said, and havoc looked back at him, startled.

“Sir?” he said, confused.

Mustang looked at him. “I’ve noticed the way that you’ve been pushing yourself. You’re not moving smoothly now either. You’re not going to be doing any hard labor. You’ve been neglecting taking care of your legs since the day Hawkeye was looked in the basement. Today you’ve pushed them even more. You need to rest them.”

Havoc made a face. “Boss—I’m not sitting around doing nothing while there’s work to be done.”

Breda clapped him on the shoulder. “Oh, no one said that you were sitting around doing nothing. Someone’s got to write up the report since Hawkeye and Fuery are out of commission.”

“Oh. Goody. Great,” Havoc deadpanned, and Breda, Mustang, and the sheriff all grinned at him. Well, at least he could provide the entertainment.

He went with Breda out back, waving at Mrs. Nelson who was, it seemed, cooking up a storm in the kitchen, just like Havoc had thought she was. It looked like she was planning on feeding every single man here, and somehow that didn’t surprise him in the least.

Out back there was a group of men working behind the house. They seemed to be taking turns digging, although there were plenty of shovels around.

“Where’d we find all the shovels?” Havoc asked, not remembering there being that many around her before.

“General transmuted them,” Breda said. “It made it go faster.”

“Yeah, I bet,” Havoc said, looking at all of the work that had been done.

Running along the house there was a trench, dug down about three feet and extending out about two. It ran for maybe four yards at this point, and they were clearly looking for something very specific. The ground was so wet, though, that the piles of dirt were slippery, sloppy mud piles and the walls of the trench held little integrity. The men themselves were covered in mud, nearly from head to toe, and even Falman himself, who looked to be doing more directing then digging, was pretty muddy too.

Havoc was glad that Fuery was laid up in bed at this point. He didn’t need to see trenches like this. Not after his experiences down south. They brought to mind the few stories that Havoc had gotten out of the young man, and even those were sparse. Best for him not to see these, if he could be spared them.

“Any luck?” Breda called out to Falman.

Falman shook his head. “Not yet,” he said. “We know it’s somewhere in this general vicinity, though, from the pictures I found. The house has been remodeled a time or two, so that makes pinpointing it a bit more difficult. Plus, when these things are removed, they tend it bury the place where the door was.”

“Yeh, and the Hawkeyes always were a paranoid bunch,” one of the men said. “The family’s been around these parts since nigh the beginning of the town. But they’ve always been a bit squirrely. There’s stories that stretch back pretty far. Riza’s grandparents here were as well. They didn’t like anyone in their business. And old Berthold, now he was a strange one.” The man glanced at them, “Look, I ain’t saying that I have anything against alchemists. They can be right useful! But there was something off about Berthold, and especially after his wife died of the sickness. Didn’t see a lot of him before that but saw less after.”

“Yeah?” Havoc said, curious, and wondered if this man would give him more information.

The man nodded. “Bout once a month he’d go around and fix things, charge for them, although it didn’t have to be money. Sometimes it was supplies or what have you. You never knew what me might ask. Sometimes he brought his daughter around with him, and sometimes he didn’t. She was a slight, shy thing, never played well with the other kids. Just stood back and watched, like she was scared to or something. Worried about her a bit, but she seemed alright, so we just thought it was more of the Hawkeye strangeness.”

He paused, though, scratching at his neck, before remembering the mud on his hand and pulling a face. “When she came to school, though, she seemed to be alright. Shy, quiet, but alright. Well-mannered, polite, smart. She was socially awkward, but that was understandable, living in this big house with no one but her strange father. Honestly, she only really started to come out of her shell when that Mustang kid came around.” He shrugged. “No one thought he would last, but he did.”

“A city boy in the country. Yeah, that’s usually a recipe for disaster,” Havoc agreed.

The man seemed to take that as encouragement and kept talking. “Oh, there were a few disasters in there,” he said with a grin. “But on the whole, it wasn’t too bad. All the girls were enamored with him, though, and the boys hated him for it. He would start to get a little arrogant, and then Riza’d come along and slap him down, sometimes literally. She’d fuss at him and chew him out about the stupid things he’d do, and he always looked surprised, but he listened and learned. It was honestly the most animated that any of us had ever seen her, and it was refreshing to know she wasn’t completely taken over by her father.”

The man sighed, looking back at the house. “Kinda hoped the two of them would get married one day. They were good for each other. You should have seen how withdrawn she got again when Roy left. A few of us worried about her, but we all knew better then to step into the private affairs of the Hawkeyes. Things never went well for the people that did that. When Roy came back just before Berthold died, we didn’t know how things were going to go. He was a soldier then, and Berthold did not like the military. When Berthold passed, the talk about town was if Roy would marry Riza, or if she would follow him.” He shook his head and sighed. “She followed him, but not in the way that we thought she would.”

“Yeah, I bet,” Havoc said.

“Imagine our shock when we saw the newspapers talking about the Flame Alchemist and The Hawk’s Eyes, and we knew that they were our Roy and Riza.” The man continued. “It was a shock to us, and the talk of the town for months. Even more surprising was when Riza turned up one day, talked to some people about making sure her home was restored a bit and kept up, paid for it, and then left. We had no idea what was going on. She had some strange requirements too,” he said, thinking about it. “We weren’t to look through the study or the basement. She took care of the study, and Roy came a few days later, and took care of the basement. He never returned, but she came back once a year to check on things, and then left. I think she’d write Mrs. Nelson and maybe a couple of others to check on things, just to be sure.”

“Yeah, sounds like the yearly trips she’d make,” Havoc said. “Never knew where she went, though.”

The man shrugged. “Here, it seems.” He looked back at the house again. “You know, even though they never married, it seems those two are still together.”

“Yeah,” Havoc agreed. “Boss and Hawk are pretty inseparable. They always manage to find their way back to each other. And,” he grinned, looking at the man, “she still gets onto him and fusses at him.”

The man chortled and rocked on his heels. “Some things never change, do they? Maybe one day the two of them will just go ahead and get married.”

“Maybe so,” Havoc said, and he knew that he wouldn’t object, although he wasn’t counting on it anyway. Not until everything was done and Mustang’s plans were complete. The only thing those two were more dedicated to then each other, was the plan.

Havoc watched for a few more minutes before looking over at Falman. “So, what are you going to do if you don’t find—”

He was cut off by the shout of a man who was digging. “Hey! Hey, I think we found it!”

Falman gave Havoc a look that seemed to say, “you doubted me?” and all three of them headed over to where the men were digging. There were the remnants of a structure there, capped and sealed off. It looked like it could have been part of a chute or an escape at some point, and the men were trying their best to clear the soggy ground away from it so that they could get to it easier. That, of course, wasn’t easy, considering the soggy ground around them, but they were still trying.

“General!” Breda called, his voice bellowing like only he could. “We’ve found something!”

Within just a few moments, Mustang was outside, and so was the sheriff, both of them heading straight towards the area that the men were gathered around. It only took them a second to realize the trouble that the men were having with the ground, and only one word from Mustang to clear them away.

“Move,” he said, and all of the men scrambled back.

Mustang clapped and put his hands on the ground, the familiar blue light crackling up. Or, well, listening to the murmurs of the men who were watching, it might only be familiar to Havoc, Breda and Falman, Havoc decided. Maybe he was just so used to alchemy and seeing it that he forgot just how amazing it could be.

Mustang raised up part of the ground in thick walls, to prevent the slop of mud from running down in it, and, at the same time, drew the moisture out of the ground around it. Havoc could feel the ground under his feet become a little firmer, but he heard others suddenly notice that the ground around them was soggier. They were standing further back, so he guessed that Mustang had simply moved the water away.

“Alright. That won’t hold forever,” Mustang said. “The ground is too saturated for that. But it will hold for now.”

The opening was clearly sealed up, and that was another problem that they were going to have to deal with. Havoc heard talk of tools and the like, but he just smirked, knowing wait was coming next. Mustang clapped again, and put his hands on the seal, transforming it into a door. Breda climbed down into the area Mustang had made, and together they pulled each side open. It was dark down there, and Mustang pulled on a glove, snapping and sending a small line of fire down it. Stairs were still there, rickety though they seemed.

“Falman. Stay here and guard the entrance,” Mustang said.

“Yes, sir,” Falman replied, looking as if he really didn’t want to go down there anyway.

Havoc climbed down to join them, And Mustang turned to look at him, clearly about to tell him to stay behind too. “I’m coming, boss,” he said. “I need to see this through.”

Mustang looked at him, and then nodded. “Alright. Then let’s go.”

“I’m coming as well,” the sheriff said.

“So am I,” Thompson said.

“No.” Mustang’s voice was sharp. “This is the captain’s private life. We know about it, but I am not going to expose her life to people she hasn’t given permission to.”

“This is part of an investigation that’s happened here, where I am,” the sheriff said. “This is my jurisdiction. I need to be part of this.”

There was a clear tension building between Mustang and the Sheriff, and it was all fueled by Mustang’s protectiveness over Hawkeye. Mustang, though, was not a stupid man. He understood how to weigh things and seemed to come to some of decision.

“We’re going to go down first,” he said. “Let us look around, make sure that there’s nothing sensitive, either both personally for the captain, or militarily, and then, once we’ve made a clean sweep, then we’ll call you down.” The sheriff looked like he was going to protest, but Mustang cut him off. “We don’t know what we’re going to find down there, but we do know that it involves the military. With my alchemy I’m better equipped to handle any potential problems, and I know my men and what they’re capable of. It will be easier for us to handle any potential problems. We know how to work with each other.”

The sheriff was silent for a moment, and then he nodded. “Alright,” he said. “But if you’re not back soon, we’re coming down.”

Mustang nodded, and they headed down the dark, damp stairs. There was no light down there, but apparently Falman had thought ahead, and gave Breda a lantern before they headed down. The stairs were steep and old and creaky. They carefully made their way down them, Havoc just hoping that they wouldn’t collapse under them. The stairs led into an open area that obviously had once been part of the basement but had been blocked off at some point in time, although Havoc couldn’t see a reason why.

“How did I miss this?” Mustang murmured to himself.

“Depends on how thick the walls are,” Breda said, going over to it with the light.

Mustang followed him over and beckoned for him to shine his light in a particular place. “Here,” he said. “Signs of alchemy. This was how he was getting in and out of the house. This was how he locked Hawkeye in the basement and escaped.”

“But how did he get down here?” Havoc said. “It wasn’t the way that we came in.”

“No, it wasn’t,” Mustang said, and turned to look around and see what else he could see down there.

Breda swung his lantern around too, trying to see what else there was down there. It carefully roamed the walls, until Mustang called for it to come to a stop.

“There,” he said. “Right there. I want a closer look.” They walked over, and Mustang knelt to examine the wall. “there’s alchemy here too. There must be a wall here with something behind it.”

“Want me to get the sheriff?” Havoc asked, this seeming like something that it might be a good idea to have the man in on.

“Yes,” Mustang said. “Bring them down.”

Havoc went back over to the bottom of the stairs and called up. “Hey! You two come on down. We found how Johnson was entering!”

It was only a couple of moments later that the Sheriff and Thompson were coming down the stairs and joining them in this closed off section of the basement.

“Where?” the sheriff asked.

Mustang gestured towards the wall. “Over there. He’s been transmuting himself a way into the basement. But I think that he also transmuted his way in here too. This wall shows signs of alchemy. I’m going to see what’s behind it.”

The sheriff nodded, and they all stood back as Mustang clapped and put his hands on the wall. The wall itself fell away, revealing a tunnel behind it. The sheriff and Thompson looked at each other, but Mustang was staring at the tunnel, resolute. Breda and Havoc followed suit. They were going to figure this out.

“Let’s go,” Mustang said, all business, his voice holding all of his command.

He started forward, Breda and Havoc right behind him, the sheriff and Thompson following behind after a moment. The tunnel was earthen, and sodden. It looked like it might collapse at any moment, but Mustang walked on, not deterred in the least. It was winding, and every so often there was a plank of wood with a transmutation circle carved into it. Mustang activated them as they went, and it became obvious that these were for structural integrity, which really was ingenious when you got down to it. It still didn’t take away Havoc’s unease at being underground in a sodden earthen tunnel after the area has been completely saturated with rain and the water table had to be higher than normal, but it was at least something to try to help.

The tunnel went on for a long way, completely dark and only with room for them to walk single file. Eventually, after what felt like forever, but probably wasn’t as long as he thought it was thanks to the dark, the tunnel started to slope upwards. It was a relief to Havoc, and Breda’s shoulders seemed to relax fractionally as well. This tunnel was claustrophobic, and Havoc would be glad to get out here.

“Any idea where we are?” Mustang called out, breaking the silence. “I’m completely lost.”

“Well, if I’m right, we’re still on the Hawkeye property, but nearing the edges of it,” the Sheriff said. “I think we’re heading towards Johnson’s house.”

“Really?” Mustang said. “Now that’s interesting.”

“I wonder how deep this tunnel is,” Thompson said. “How many properties could we pass under and the people up top have no idea?”

“Theoretically, you could have a whole maze of tunnels under the town, if they were properly structured,” Mustang said.

“A whole other society, huh?” Havoc said. “Not a bad idea.”

“It’s like the Ishvalans that were living in the sewers,” Breda said. “Living down there and making their own lives separate from those above, for the most part.”

“Never would have thought of that,” Thompson said.

“It isn’t something I think you’d have to worry about too much,” Mustang said. “The sewers were already structured, so they didn’t have to worry about keeping up anything. But for something like this you’d need either alchemists or engineers to make sure that the integrity is maintained. That’s not a skill that you’re going to find to be very common.”

Mustang frowned as he came across another one of the carved transmutation circles. “It will be interesting to see if Johnson is smart enough to have figured out how to do this on his own.”

“You think he didn’t?” Breda said.

“I don’t know yet,” Mustang said, “but it feels familiar, like alchemy I’ve seen somewhere else before.”

“What do you mean?” the sheriff asked.

“All alchemy tends to carry with it a personal touch,” Mustang said, “especially if it’s unusual or new alchemy. Even if you trace back the most basic of alchemy as far as we can, you can see that there’s a certain pattern to it. Think of it like how engineers can tell another engineer’s work by the way it’s constructed or put together. Alchemy circles are basically elaborate calculations. You can tell who developed something if you’re familiar enough with the person’s work.”

“Huh,” Thompson said. “Never knew that.”

Mustang shook his head. “It’s’ not something that most people would notice. Even amateur alchemists often don’t see it. It’s really only noticed when you get into the high-level research and development of circles.”

“And these seem familiar to you,” Breda said, pulling them back on topic.

“Yeah, but I can’t put my finger on it,” he said. “I need to get a better look at them and do some research.”

By this time, the floor was sloping up more and if felt like they were coming to an end. In fact, as they rounded a corner, they came to what appeared to be a dead end.

“What?” Thompson said. “Don’t tell me that—”

“Don’t worry,” Mustang said, clapping his hands together and placed his hands on the wall in front of them. It parted, opening up into another dark, empty space. But this was a structured place, and a staircase was clearly seen. This was, obviously, a basement, and the exited out into it

They all looked around for a moment, Mustang frowning a bit as he did.

“What is all this stuff?” Thompson asked.

“It looks like supplies to me,” the sheriff said. “And I get the feeling they’re not for anything good.”

“They’re alchemic supplies,” Mustang said. “And in an unusual quantity.”

“Just what have we stumbled into?” Havoc asked.

“More then we bargained for, but maybe exactly what we needed,” Mustang said with a confident smirk. “Let’s keep going.”

They headed towards the door of the basement, up the stairs and out of it, to emerge in a house. The house wasn’t well cared for, and definitely not clean, but Thompson and the sheriff seemed to recognize it.

“This is the old Steadman place that Johnson bought,” Thompson said.

“I thought so,” the sheriff said. “This proves quite a lot.”

“And opens up a lot of questions,” Breda said, looking around.

There were footsteps from outside, and then, suddenly there was a man in the doorway with a gun.

“Hold, Carey!” the sheriff called out, and the man lowered his gun.

“Sheriff?” he said, confused. “Thompson? Roy Mustang?”

“Yeah, it’s us,” the sheriff said. He hitched a thumb back towards the basement door. “Found a tunnel. Followed it all the way here.”

“A tunnel?” Carey said.

“Yeah. Make sure no one gets in here, alright?” the sheriff said,

“Yessir,” Carey said.

They poked around the house a little more after that, and then headed back, with just a few things that Mustang and Breda wanted to give a look over. But the day was drawing to a close. They needed to get back to the house, and the other men needed to get back to theirs.

The walk didn’t take terribly long, although Havoc’s legs were hurting him quite a bit by this point. He was definitely going to be in a lot of pain tonight when he finally stopped moving, which was incentive to keep moving. Of course, if he kept moving, he’d also end up hurting a lot, so it was a lose-lose situation all the way around.

By the time they got back to the house, Havoc was nearly hobbling, and Breda had fallen back to walk beside him, just in case. Many of the men had already left, leaving just a few that were there keeping an eye on the place. The Doctor had the wagon prepared and looked relieved to see them.

“General Mustang!” he called. “Good. If you hadn’t of shown up, I was just going to take your man on with me anyway.”

“Apologies, Doctor,” Mustang said. “We were following up on an unexpected lead.”

“Well, I’ve got a couple of the men ready to bring down the young man of yours. We’re going to load him up and…”

Havoc stopped listening to the doctor’s words, focusing instead on getting himself inside. His legs were aching fiercely now, and Breda, concerned, had decided to pull Havoc’s arm around his shoulders. Havoc didn’t mind. He really needed to sit down. His legs had had it, and there really was no choice. He was going to have to take one of those pills tonight.

Grimacing in pain, he let Breda lead him inside, all but collapsing at the small bench that was just inside the door.

“You really did a number on yourself,” Breda said.

“Yeah, yeah,” Havoc replied. “Just help me get to the mud room. Gotta get all this stuff off.”

“Nuh-uh,” Breda said. “We’re gonna get you upstairs and to the bath. You can get cleaned up, up there, and go straight to bed after that. And you are taking one of your little pills tonight. I’ll take care of any of the mud you leave behind or any of the mess you make.”

Havoc wanted to object, but really there was no fight left in him for this. He was in pain, and he was filthy and the last thing he wanted to do was clean. Breda got an arm under him again, and helped him stand up, Havoc letting out a hiss of pain as he did. They went towards the stairs, and then very slowly made their way up them. It was hard, but Havoc dug in deep and managed. Breda all but dumped him in the bathroom, telling him to strip, started the water, and then left. When he came back it was with clean clothes and a towel for him, and a bottle of some kind.

He dropped some of it in the bathwater, and watched it for a second before turning away, seemingly satisfied.

“What was that?” Havoc asked him.

“I was gonna give it to you later, but you’ve put yourself in this much pain I thought I’d go ahead. Remember that oil you got on that trip to Ishval? The one that helped you so much? I managed to get my hands on another form of it. You’re not supposed to rub this in directly, but soak in it, and it should help. Seems like a good time to try it out.” Breda explained.

“I’ll take it,” Havoc said.

Breda helped Havoc up and into the tub, and Havoc let out a hiss followed by a sigh of relief as the warm water and the oil hit his legs and back. It wasn’t an immediate relief, but it did help. Breda gathered up Havoc’s muddy things, then, and stood up. “I’ll be back later to get to this floor. If you need anything, just yell.”

“Yeah. Thanks, Breda.”

Breda waved off his thanks and left, and Havoc relaxed back into the tub. He tilted his head back and listened. He could hear other people moving around the house. The nurse seemed to be checking on Hawkeye, and then there was movement down near Fuery’s room, too. He heard walking and voices and worked out that they were taking Fuery out to get him to the doctor’s office. Havoc had wanted to say something to him before he left, but too late now. He’d just have to give him a call later or maybe go see him, once he felt up to walking that distance again.

Breda came back in at one point, still muddy himself, but less so, and took care of the floor as promised. He said that someone had finished connecting the phone, and that it was in working order. The sheriff had guards stationed around the house and the shack that Johnson had stayed at. He also had some men stationed around the house, just in case. With half his men down, Mustang had thanked the sheriff who said for him not to worry about it, that they looked after their own. Breda also said that the Nelsons were sticking around, at least until everyone was settled for the night. Mrs. Nelson was cooking up a storm, and she was keeping things clean too. Mr. Nelson had taken care of the horses and had helped with a lot of the logistics of things, such as building something around the outside entrance to the basement so that it wouldn’t get mud around it again and filling back up where they had dug. Fuery had been taken on to the doctor’s office, and Hawkeye was sleeping again, the stuff that Johnson had used apparently knocking her for a loop. Havoc appreciated the update, and thanked his friend before he left again, to take of whatever else there was do.

Eventually, Havoc was ready to get out of the tub, and he managed to pull himself up and out of it fairly well. He still had a good strength in his arms and was well versed in relying on them more than his legs. Shifting the burden to them and giving his legs a rest wasn’t too much of a switch. He dressed himself, but Mr. Nelson appeared to help him to the room, the rest of them being far too muddy. He settled into the bed, Mrs. Nelson coming up not long afterward with some food for him and handing him his bottle of pills. Havoc ate, took one, and then laid down to sleep as best he could. His legs were still screaming at him, but he didn’t want to take another pill.

He heard the others getting showers, the bathroom and other floors getting cleaned, and Mustang checking on Hawkeye as he drifted. Breda came in at one point, and made Havoc take something else that helped him get to sleep better. As Havoc drifted off, his last thought was that he sure wanted to get back home soon.

By the time Havoc woke the next day, the sun was already well up. He groaned as he woke up, groggy from the medicine he had taken, and grimaced as he felt the pain in his legs. That wasn’t a good sign, although there wasn’t much he could do about it at this point. Slowly and carefully, he rolled out of bed and dressed himself before carefully making his way to the bathroom and then downstairs.

Hawkeye was at the kitchen table when he got there, also looking groggy and nursing a cup of coffee. Falman was at the stove, cooking. Hawkeye gave Havoc a smile as he came in, and as she turned her head towards him, he let out a bit of an exclamation at her face.

One side of it was covered in deep blues and purples and looked like it hurt. There were a couple of cuts near her eyes. Her hair looked like she had maybe run her fingers through it, and she was wearing what appeared to be one of Mustang’s shirts instead of her usual tightly fitting ones.

“Geeze, Riza, good morning I guess,” he said.

She gave him a tired smile. “It’s practically afternoon,” she said, “but yes, good morning.”

“How are you feeling?” Havoc asked her as he sat down. Falman put a cup of coffee in front of him, and he nodded his thanks to the other man.

“Hungover and sore,” was her answer. “I have no idea what he used on me, but the effects of it linger.” She looked at him. “How are you feeling? I was told your legs were in a lot of pain last night.”

“Still are,” Havoc said, “although nowhere near as bad. I don’t plan on running anywhere anytime soon, though.”

“No, I wouldn’t think so,” Hawkeye said. She paused. “Thank you, Jean, for all that you did yesterday.”

Havoc waved it off and swallowed the sip of coffee he was taking. “No, don’t worry about it. It’s just what we do.”

Riza merely smiled back at him, tiredness still in her eyes.

“So, where’s Mustang and Breda? And any word on Fuery?” Havoc asked.

“The general called this morning to check on Fuery,” Falman said. “He’s doing fine, nothing wrong with his spine. He just pulled a few things in his back, but that, his ribs, his arm, and his head should heal up fine with time.”

He walked over to them with a pan and slid some eggs onto their plates before returning to the stove to tend to another pan. “The Sheriff called this morning as well. Breda and Mustang took off after that. I’m not entirely sure why, but I think something may have happened or been discovered at Johnson’s house or shack. They headed out to investigate.”

Falman returned to them, sliding some sort of hash browns onto their plates, before returning, again, to the stove. “They told me to stay here and keep an eye on things. I’ve had the basement door locked, just in case, and Hayate patrolling the house. Nothing has happened, except for the men who kept an eye on the property last night asking me for some coffee, and Mrs. Nelson calling and saying that she’s going to bring some more food by, as well as our clothes.”

He brought over another pan and pulled them out some bacon. “She bundled up all our dirty clothes last night and took them with her, insistent on cleaning them.”

Hawkeye smiled. “That sounds like Mrs. Nelson,” she said. “She was always doing things for others.”

The three of them ate quietly together, Hayate making an appearance for food one time, but otherwise not begging off of them like he liked to do. It was clear that he was focused on his job of patrolling the house. It was a couple of hours later when they heard a sharp bark from him, and a skittering of his feet on the floor. Falman was the first one up, a hand on his gun, just in case. Hayate didn’t seem to be alarmed, though, which was a good sign. But after everything that had happened, no one could really blame them for not being cautions. Hawkeye, too, had her gun out and ready to go, making her way to the entranceway living room, just in case. Havoc stayed seated on the couch, his gun half hidden. Sitting or standing it make no difference to him. He had gotten to be a good shot either way.

It turned out, though, to just be Breda, who stomped his boots on the stoop, opened the door, and slammed it behind him. He looked at his welcoming committee for a moment, and then carried on as all of them lowered their guns. After all, he had to have expected this as well. All of them were a bit paranoid normally. Now it was in overdrive.

“You’re back sooner than I expected,” Falman said. “I thought you would have been gone longer than that to look over all of the information found in Johnson’s house and shack.”

“Johnson’s dead,” Breda said bluntly as he stepped into the living room. That sentence immediately had all of their attention.

“What?” Havoc said, clearly startled. How could Johnson be dead? He had seen him delivered to the prison himself, seen the deputy take custody of him, seen the first aid done on the shoulder where Havoc shot him. “He couldn’t have bled out!”

“No,” Breda said. “He didn’t. When the sheriff went in this morning, he found the guard there, also dead, his throat slit. Johnson had been murdered in a similar manner.”

“Who was the guard?” Hawkeye asked.

“Robert Harper,” Breda said. “Sheriff says he’s got a family. Young. He wasn’t looking forward to breaking this to them.”

“Oh, no,” Hawkeye said.

“that’s not all,” Breda said. “A man named Brandon Pruett was guarding the shack. He was also found dead this morning, throat slit, not far from the ashes that was all that was left of the cabin. It was burned to the ground.”

They all exchanged looks at that. This wasn’t a one-time thing; this was definitely someone covering up something.

Breda wasn’t finished. “The two men guarding his house last night, John Yuerisk and Adam Presson were also murdered with the same MO. The house there was burned to the ground too, but it looked as if the basement had been cleaned out first.”

“What about the tunnel that led from his house to this one?” Falman asked.

“Collapsed,” Breda said. “It looks like it was done on purpose too. Mustang is going back through it, reconstructing it and looking for the plates that held those transmutation circles. He told me to meet him back here.”

Havoc ran a hand through his hair. “Oh, man, what a mess.”

Breda nodded. “The sheriff has asked for our help with this. With all of the stranded passengers, the pool of who could have done it is pretty wide. It’s too much for him to handle alone, especially with the deaths of those four men.” He looked at Falman. “You worked in Investigations for a while and worked with Hughes. Mustang wants you down there helping.”

“Of course,” Falman said, and left immediately to go get his uniform jacket and whatever else he needed.

“What about us?” Hawkeye said. “We can help out too.”

Breda held his hands up. “That you need to take up with the general. Personally, I think it might be a good thing if we all went, but Falman can at least get things started.” He hooked a thumb over his shoulder, back towards the front. “I did borrow a small cart and horse, just so you two wouldn’t have to walk the whole way if you can convince the general to let you go. I also brought back the laundry that Mrs. Nelson took with her, and some food she sent along.”

“Bring it in,” Hawkeye said. She looked over at Havoc, her gaze determined even with her bruised face. “Think you’re good for it?”

Havoc grinned at her. “Oh yeah, I can help out with this,” he said. “Better than sitting around uselessly.”

“Good,” Hawkeye said. “Then we’ll be ready to go as soon as the General gets here.”

It was clear that, whether Mustang was in favor of this or not, Hawkeye planned on being involved, and there was really no arguing with her on that. Breda went to unload the cart and eat something, and Havoc and Hawkeye went upstairs to change. They ran into Falman on the way down, who they admonished to be careful on his way to town. Hawkeye called for him to wait, and then followed him down the stairs, calling Hayate over to her. Havoc could hear her instructing the little dog to go with Falman and guard him, and then the two were sent on their way.

“I don’t think it’s a good idea for anyone to go alone,” Havoc heard her explain to Breda. “If none of us are going with him, then Hayate is a good choice.”

“Yeah, makes sense,” Breda said.

Breda hauled the laundry upstairs where they went through it, claiming all of their uniform pieces. Havoc had a bit of confusion between his pants and Falman’s, but Falman was thinner than he was, so that was quickly figured out. By the time they were dressed and ready, there was an odd sound from the basement. Breda made his way down to the basement while Hawkeye took up a position looking out back, towards the entrance they had found. Havoc stayed in between, ready to give assistance as needed.

Suddenly Hawkeye called out “All clear!” and lowered her gun. “it’s just the General.”

Sure enough, about the time Breda got to the top of the basement stairs, the backdoor opened to admit a very filthy General Mustang. He was covered in dirt and mud, and honestly, it made sense. Those tunnels had been made of dirt and the like. Of course, he would get filthy reconstructing them.

“Any luck?” Breda said, as Mustang headed straight for the washroom.

Mustang tossed something to Breda before he moved into the washroom fully. “Not really. I found part of one of the plaques, if you can call it anything useful.” He started to strip down in the washroom, clearly not wanting to get mud everywhere. “Other than that, nothing useful at all. I made sure to collapse the tunnel back again. I don’t want anyone else using it. But I will say this,” he came out, a towel wrapped around him, “that tunnel was definitely collapsed with alchemy.”

He started to head for the stairs, and then paused, looking at Hawkeye and Havoc. “Why are you two in full uniform?”

“Because we’re going to help with the investigation,” Hawkeye said.

Mustang frowned. “No. Absolutely not.”

“And why not?” Hawkeye demanded.

“I won’t have the two of you exhausting yourselves like that.” Mustang said.

“It won’t exhaust us,” Hawkeye said.

“I said no,” Mustang said and started walking out and towards the stairs. “I’m going to shower, and then Breda and I are going to help with the investigation.” He left, leaving the three of them in the kitchen, his steps echoing on the stairs.

Hawkeye stood there for a moment, then her eyes hardened, and she strode after him, purposeful in her walk.

Breda and Havoc stayed put and stayed quiet for a moment.

“How much you wanna bet she just walks in on him?” Havoc asked.

There was the sudden noise of a door being flung open, a strangled shout of “Hawkeye, what the--!” before the last word was lost in the slamming of the door.

“Why would I bet on a sure thing?” Breda said.

Havoc shrugged. “What some food?”

“Sure.”

By the time that Mustang and Hawkeye came back down the stairs, Mustang was a bit grumpy but not arguing the point anymore, Hawkeye apparently presenting her case to him well. They ate, and then all four of them headed out, Havoc and Hawkeye riding in the back of the cart that Breda had borrowed. It wasn’t a long ride into town, but once there it was clear to see that people weren’t happy and that things were tense.

“Looks like we’ve got our work cut out for us,” Breda said.

“Yeah, we do, but we’re going to do it.” Mustang replied.

Although they weren’t much of a military presence, having all of them there did help to bring order to the chaos. Falman already had a system going, and so they jumped in and helped to smooth it along. Falman handled a majority of the interviews, recording names, statements, and various other details. Havoc had never really had the chance to see this side of Falman in play before, not like this, and it was fascinating to watch him. He understood, now, why he had been such an asset to Investigations and why General Armstrong was trying her best to get him back to Briggs.

Breda, likewise, was also an asset. He helped to look over the statements that they were given, organizing and classifying them. He had piles and piles of them, but he also had a system going. Havoc had a feeling that he and Falman were going to be working late into the night on this, like a giant puzzle that they needed to put together and figure out. Havoc was mostly on organizing duty, although he had his own ways to soften people up before they went into be questioned. Mustang oversaw the whole operation, Hawkeye a step behind him, like she always was, or going somewhere with the authority of his orders.

There were a few other soldiers that had been on the train, as well as a few that were former soldiers, and they were quickly drafted into helping with crowd control, after they had passed through their own questionings. The sheriff and his men were working with Breda on classifying a lot of the information and making some follow up questions that they needed to tend to later.

All in all, it was several hours work that stretched into the night for all of them. No one was happy with that, from the people who were helping, to the people who were being questioned, to the townspeople. It didn’t help that there were more than a few people in town who were in mourning. With four men dead, murdered, no one could blame them for that. It was probably the biggest tragedy this town had seen in a very long time, if at all.

Havoc could sense that some of the townspeople blamed them, and he could understand why. The military was often at the center of trouble, and Mustang and anyone associated with him definitely tended towards that. It was just the way it was. But others, although unhappy, seemed to recognize that it wasn’t their fault, even though they were involved.

All in all, it made for a very difficult and long day, one that had all of them tired and dead on their feet by the end of it. They ended up borrowing the cart again to head back home, something that turned out to be a good thing, as the doctor sent Fuery back with them, saying that he still needed to be careful, but that he would be fine overall.

The days after that moved quickly. Mustang made call after call out to Eastern Headquarters and to Central. There was a lot to report on, after all, and it took a bit of finagling to make it work so that Hawkeye’s secret wasn’t exposed. It was written off, it seemed, as if Johnson was under the impression that she knew more about Mustang’s alchemy then she did, and that he could get it from her. With Johnson dead, well, he couldn’t refute it. Of course, anyone in the know knew differently, but there were precious few of them—that they knew of.

Hawkeye grew increasingly tense over the days. None of them knew if Johnson had managed to give knowledge of her tattoo to anyone or not. There was no way to tell if other people knew about it or not. All that could be known was that Johnson knew. It was understandable that she was high strung about it. Mustang was too, and that put the rest of the men on edge. Add to that, that it was still a mystery how those supplies in Johnson’s basement got moved with no one able to travel, and it was a true mystery, and a chilling one at that.

It was at least a week later before the military was able to get anyone into the town. It was another week before the rail lines started running again. The rains had caused massive damage over every region they had been hanging above, and crews were hard at work trying to repair things. The team did, though, eventually go on to their original destination, but by the time they had gotten there, the trail had grown cold. Without anything else that they could do, the team returned to Central. They were truly grateful to be back home.

But Havoc couldn’t shake the feeling that things weren’t over yet. So much had happened, and so much was still hanging in the balance and left unknown. There was no way that this was permanently over. Something else had to happen. It didn’t make sense otherwise. There were too many loose ends for his liking, and if there were too many for him, then there were definitely too many for Mustang.

Havoc thought about it, as he sat in his apartment, looking out the window at the night, and flicked his toothpick away. Yep. Something was definitely coming. The question was, what and when?

And, what to do in the meantime?

His hand reached out for the phone, and he rattled off an address to the operator. “Hey—Rebecca? Wanna go out tomorrow night?”

#FMA Big Bang 2021 #fullmetal alchemist Big Bang 2021 #Fullmetal Alchemist #fma #royai #riza hawkeye #Roy Mustang #Jean Havoc #Heymans Breda #Vato Falman #Kain Fuery #black hayate

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worryinglyinnocent · 4 years ago

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Fic: Forged Through Fire (7/13)

Summary: Amestris. Once democratic, now a military dictatorship. Prohibition is strict; personal freedoms curtailed. All alchemists must be state-licensed or face imprisonment. Foreigners are met with suspicion. It’s a grim place and a grim time, but there are some people able to bring a little light to the world. Behind an innocent-looking bookshop, speakeasy proprietor Chris Mustang has formed an unlikely alliance with unlicensed alchemist Van Hohenheim to provide alcohol to those who want it and medical care to those who need it. When Riza’s newly complete tattoo becomes infected, Roy brings her into this underworld, little knowing the way it will change their lives in the future – uncovering the secrets of the mythical Philosopher’s Stone and the schemes of a Fuhrer hell-bent on achieving immortality, all whilst navigating what they mean to each other.

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Rated: T

[One] [Two] [Three] [Four] [Five] [Six] AO3]

===

Note: So, just in case you read the previous chapter before I edited it, a note on timing. I managed to mix up centuries and millennia because… wibbly-wobbly timey-wimey stuff. To clarify, Xerxes was destroyed about 450-500 years prior, like in canon. Not 50 years prior, like my brain decided to originally write…

Also, Atticus was picked as a random Ancient Greek name, there’s no deeper reasoning behind it.

===

Forged Through Fire

Seven

Riza looked up from the counter as the bell over the shop door tinkled and Gracia entered.

“Hey Riza. How’s he doing today?”

Riza laughed. “He’s stopped rambling and he’s now annoying everyone, so I think he’s getting better. I know that Chris can’t wait to get him off her hands, but we’re a bit concerned that someone might try to shoot him again if we let him out of our sight.” She went and flipped the closed sign, locking the door. The speakeasy was still doing limited trade in order to keep the money coming in, but it was only open to trusted regulars who had forewarned that they would be coming in advance.

Gracia followed her down into the bar. For all she could joke about it, Riza could feel the tension in the place. Hughes had stumbled upon something so big and so secret that it would affect all of them in the long run.

As suspected, it now appeared irrefutable that Bradley had the military alchemists working on creating the Philosopher’s Stone. So far, they’d had several failed attempts, but a recent covert expedition to the ruins of Xerxes had uncovered some interesting documentation. Barely anyone could read it, but it was nevertheless causing a lot of excitement among the upper echelons of the military.

Or, to put it simply, Fuhrer Bradley was trying to make himself immortal.

“Can you think of anything worse than an immortal Bradley?” Hughes was saying as they entered his sick room. Roy was in there too, sitting in the office chair with his feet up on the end of the bed. There were papers scattered everywhere.

“No, right now I don’t think that there’s anything worse than an immortal Bradley. Hi Gracia, hi Riza.”

“Hello Roy. Shouldn’t you be at work?”

“I’m very hard at work attempting to bring down a conspiracy in the military!” Roy protested, gesturing around at all the papers. “And no. Officially I am taking a leave of absence to care for my sick aunt.”

Madam Christmas, who had entered the room behind them, gave a pathetic cough.

“See, my sick aunt. I’ve got Havoc and Breda running interference and Fuery’s been sending all kinds of mixed message telegrams. The top brass are so concerned with trying to work out whether or not Hughes is dead that they shouldn’t be paying too much attention to my whereabouts.”

“Right.” Riza shook her head in despair as Roy swung his feet up off the bed, leaving the room with her and Madam Christmas to give Gracia and Hughes some time alone together.

She waited until he had poured himself some coffee from the large pot that had been left on the bar and they’d settled down at their usual table before she spoke again. “Have you found out anything new?”

“Bradley nearly declared war on Xing as an excuse to get in there and try to find the Philosopher’s Stone, but even his closest allies decided that would be a bit much and it would be better to try and create their own.” Roy took a long sip of his coffee. “You know, I wouldn’t put it past him to just lead a one-man charge on the place, he’s certainly bonkers enough.”

“Is it even the kind of thing that can be created twice? I mean, I know we should all take myths and legends with a pinch of salt, but at the same time, all the bits and pieces I’ve read about it talk about it as The Philosopher’s Stone, as if there is and can only ever be one.”

“Well, I think the military are certainly testing that theory.” Roy sighed. “The worst thing about it is that I have no idea what kind of unethical experiments they’re getting up to and as an alchemist I could be dragged into them at any time. I mean, my specialism sort of keeps me safe unless they need to burn a bunch of stuff but considering the lengths they seem willing to go to in order to both keep the secret and try to succeed, I don’t want to rule it out.”

Riza inched a little closer to him, chancing to put an arm around his back, and he leaned into her side, head drooping onto her shoulder.

“I’m so glad you’re here,” he mumbled to her. “Thank you.”

“Any time.”

He gave a little huff of laughter. “That’s my line.”

“Well, maybe it’s time for me to take care of you for a little while. You’ve taken care of me enough in the past.”

“Thanks for following us out the other night, as well. I was so frantic; I don’t know what I would have done if you hadn’t been there being calm and wonderful.”

Riza laughed. “I’m sure you would have survived somehow.” She held him a little tighter, and he burrowed in closer.

“It feels like everything’s been turned upside down. Except you.”

He looked up at her then, his dark eyes so sad and tired, and Riza’s heart went out to him.

“We never got to finish our conversation from yesterday,” he said.

“The ‘What happens between us now?’ conversation.”

“Yeah. That one.” Roy sighed. “I know that we’ve just ended up in a potentially really dangerous situation, and I know that this is the worst time ever to be talking about it, and thinking about it, and God forbid thinking about the future. But I also know that you’re the only person I would ever want by my side throughout this whole thing, and if we all end up skewered through with one of Bradley’s not-at-all ceremonial swords tomorrow, then I know that not taking a chance with you would be my only regret.”

“Oh, Roy.” Riza leaned in to kiss him softly. “There’s nothing like people being shot to put things in perspective, is there?”

“Nope.” His hand came up to cup her cheek and he returned the kiss, gently and a little hesitantly, but with definite hope and want behind it. “Perhaps I’m starting to see that sometimes the universe just really wants to screw us over, and there’s nothing we can do about it.”

“Exactly. It’s time to let go of the guilt, Roy. There’s nothing anyone can do about it.” She found herself stroking his hair as he resettled against her shoulder.

“We make quite the pair, don’t you think? Both broken up in our own ways.”

“Perhaps.” Riza kissed the top of his head. “But we’ll stick ourselves back together. I think that’s the one thing that I’ve learned the most since leaving home and coming here. The sticking myself back together part. Because I haven’t been sticking myself back together, not really. I’ve had you and Rebecca and Madam and Hughes and Trisha and Hohenheim and all the rest of the crew helping me stick myself back together. And when you get broken, I’ll help you stick yourself back together as well.”

“Thank you, Riza.”

They stayed like that for a long time, and although her arm was going numb, Riza didn’t mind at all. She was enjoying this easy closeness. They had been so close back when he had first known her – perhaps they had never been this physically close, but they’d been so close as people. A part of her had always known that they would end up like this somehow. Maybe not as romantic partners, but definitely as friends.

It was only when Madam Christmas came out into the bar to take over serving and gave them a knowing look that Riza realised Roy had fallen asleep on her, and she just smiled. They’d had a fraught couple of days of it, what with everything Hughes had found out and the aftermath of that; she wasn’t really surprised that it had taken it out of him so much. She was just glad that he trusted her enough to be this vulnerable around her. Well, she trusted him that much, and she guessed that it went both ways.

Madam Christmas came over with a glass of wine; Riza took it with her free hand. It was her favourite, and she savoured the rich taste.

“On the house.” Madam Christmas winked. “I think we could all use a little pick-me-up right now. It’s been a day. I had Rebecca on the phone earlier, she’s been picking up all kinds of stories at the paper.”

Over the last few months or so, Rebecca had become a great friend to them in giving inside information as to what kinds of propaganda were about to be sent out to the general population. Of course, most of what she wrote herself ended up cut and censored by the government-employed editors by the time it appeared in print, but the unredacted versions were always circulated through the speakeasy to great interest. Riza had been happy to set her up with Havoc.

“Good stories or bad stories?”

“A bit of both. Everything’s being swept under the rug, though. As far as Central City’s citizens are concerned, absolutely nothing out of the ordinary happened in the park two nights ago.”

“Huh.” Riza felt the uneasiness beginning to creep back in. “I don’t like how that implies that people do know that something out of the ordinary happened in the park two nights ago.” She thought back to Hohenheim and the frighteningly powerful alchemy that he’d performed on Hughes, something unlike anything she’d ever known before, and in turn she found herself thinking back to the day she’d burned her back, and his warning that removing her tattoo completely would be too traumatic.

If that was what he would have had to do, she could well see why. Hughes had been unconscious and on his last breaths; she wouldn’t have wanted anything like that to happen if she was anything other than at death’s door.

“No,” Madam Christmas agreed. “It’s worrying. I’m just hoping that there’s nothing that can tie it all back to this place. Rebecca doesn’t think that there is, and she’s running as much interference as she can. Still, I think keeping a low profile for a couple of weeks will be a good idea.” She glanced at Roy. “Are you comfortable like that?”

“Not really. My shoulder’s gone dead. But I don’t mind.”

“Oh, to be young and in love once more. Don’t deny it, Miss Hawkeye. I’ve known you long enough.”

Riza shook her head, but she didn’t respond. Something good would come of it all. It had to.

“Do you really think that Bradley would risk wiping out the entire population of Amestris in order to gain immortality? I mean, surely the whole point of him gaining immortality is so that he can remain Fuhrer and rule over us forever. It wouldn’t be much fun being immortal if he was literally the only person in the country.”

Two more days had passed, and the rag-tag bunch of investigators had become a full-on research force, although they weren’t any closer to finding out what was going on in Central Command than they had been before. Every new piece of information they uncovered just seemed to be adding to the confusion without clearing anything up.

“I mean, if the legends of Xerxes are anything to go by, then he’d get wiped out too.” Hughes brushed some peanut shells off the table and slammed down another piece of paper. “Take a look at that.”

Riza looked up at the clock; it was almost eleven but none of them showed any signs of stopping. The entire crew of Roy’s friends from Central Command were gathered in the bar, and Madam Christmas had closed up shop temporarily to allow them more space to spread out in the main area rather than everyone being cramped in the office that had been Hughes’s recovery room. Hohenheim had given him the all-clear earlier in the day, but he still hadn’t actually left the speakeasy and gone home. Gracia and Rebecca had joined the party as well, and although Madam Christmas was trying to remain as aloof from it all as she could, more concerned with keeping them all safe in the bar than with the military conspiracies going on, she was offering insights wherever she could.

Hohenheim and Trisha had gone home. Riza hadn’t seen all that much of them since the night Hughes had been shot, and she got the impression that Hohenheim was trying to avoid everyone in the wake of what he’d had to do. Not that anyone who had been there and who knew what had happened held his strangeness against him, quite the opposite in fact; they were all extremely grateful that he’d managed to save Hughes’ life. Still, if he wanted space then they would give it to him.

Riza craned over the others to take a read of the paper that Hughes had put down, but the writing was too small for her to make it out.

“What is it?”

“It attributes the creation of the Philosopher’s Stone to an alchemist named Atticus, who was the King of Xerxes’ personal alchemist. But it also says that Atticus died in whatever catastrophe wiped out the rest of Xerxes, so even if Bradley does succeed in creating the Philosopher’s Stone again, it won’t leave him any better off than when he started.”

“Just another hunk of rock in an empty country waiting for some Xingese merchants to take it home to Tim Marcoh,” Roy mused, and Riza couldn’t stop herself from bursting into laughter.

“Sorry, sorry. I know it’s really not that funny. I think I need more coffee.” She extricated herself from the gaggle around the table and went over to the coffee pot. Considering the vast array of alcohol that was available behind the bar and the fact that the coffee pot had never seen all that much use before the night Hughes had been shot, it was certainly earning its keep now. They’d been refilling it almost constantly all day.

“Hey.”

She looked up to find that Roy had followed her over. They hadn’t really had the chance to spend all that much time together since they’d had their talk. Well, that wasn’t strictly true since they’d spent most of the intervening two days in each other’s pockets whilst trying to work out what on earth was going on in the country, but they’d always been surrounded by other people. This moment leaning on the bar was as close as they had come to having a moment to themselves.

“Hey yourself.” She smiled at the memory of the other night. Roy had been so embarrassed when he’d woken up, and it had been sweet to see him so flustered. Naturally, she’d had to kiss him to stop his litany of apologies for falling asleep on her.

He helped himself to another cup, draining the pot. “How are you holding up?”

“All right, I guess. It’s just so surreal that I’m having trouble believing that it’s all happening and I’m not in some kind of crazy dream. More like a nightmare, actually. How come none of this has ever come to light before? Something this big and all-encompassing, surely someone would have found something out.”

“Someone probably did,” Roy said grimly. “And that someone, and all the someones who came before and after them, probably met the same fate as Hughes would have met if he hadn’t had a handy Hohenheim around.”

“It just boggles the mind. Who would even want to be immortal in the first place? Can you imagine having to live on and watch everyone around you grow old and die?”

“I don’t think psychopaths like Bradley really see it in that way.”

“But what about his wife? Their child?”

Roy shrugged. “I don’t think he sees it that way. If you want something badly enough, then everything else falls by the wayside.” He paused. “I… No. Sorry. That’s not an appropriate train of thought.”

Riza raised an eyebrow. “Well, now you have to tell me.”

“It’s about your father. Are you sure you want to hear it?”

Riza nodded. Although her feelings for her father remained complicated, the time and space between them made it easier to look at things through a more neutral lens. She didn’t think that she was ever going to forgive him for what he had done to her, but at the same time, she was no longer wasting her energy being angry at either him or herself. He simply wasn’t worth the emotional investment she had given him for so long.

“I was thinking that I can see certain similarities between Bradley and your father.” Roy glanced at her, but she nodded for him to continue. “There’s something about them both, that single-mindedness and that disregard for others. Your father’s desire to protect his complex array above all else, his willingness to completely destroy your life in order to achieve his own ends… I can see that same drive in Bradley, and I dread to think what would have happened to you if Hawkeye’s goal had been immortality instead of anything else.”

Riza shuddered. “Yes. When you put it like that, I can see why Mrs Bradley and Selim wouldn’t cross his mind at all. I don’t even want to think about my father being immortal. He did enough damage in the fifty-three years he had.”

Roy reached across and took her hand. He didn’t apologise; perhaps he knew better than that now. After so many years of carrying guilt around, Riza had hoped she’d made it clear that he didn’t have to anymore.

“At least it’s over now.”

Riza nodded. “Yes. It’s over now. And in the end, I don’t think my life has been completely destroyed. I mean, it might be if Bradley does something drastic, but I can’t lay that one at my father’s door. I think that I’ve still found something good in spite of him and his disregard for everything.”

Roy smiled, and Riza could see the colour coming up in his cheeks. It was sweet to see it; the persona he wore within the military and when he was around the rest of the customers in the bar was always confident and self-assured, an easy-going ladies’ man, but Riza had known him long enough to know that the real Roy was just as flustered around her as she had been about him when she had first realised that she liked him as far more than a friend.

They were settling now, having put the cards on the table the other night, and Riza knew that, if the circumstances in the outside world had been easier, they would have been moving ahead with the relationship without any concerns. But the circumstances were what they were, and with danger lurking in every corner, it felt premature to be making any kind of long-term plans beyond the fact that they wanted to be together right now in case they never got the chance in the future.

Roy’s fingertips brushed her face, touching the frown line between her brows.

“It’ll be all right.” He leaned in and pressed a kiss to her cheek. “Somehow, it’ll be all right.”

It wasn’t the firmest or most confident of statements, but it gave Riza some hope, and she smiled, knocking her coffee mug against his in a toast before they went back to join the others. Breda and Fuery were pouring over a book so old it was practically falling apart, and Riza wondered if it was stock from the shop upstairs.

“Can you make out this transmutation circle?” Fuery thrust the book at him. “Armstrong doesn’t recognise it, but he thinks it’s a forbidden one.”

Roy grabbed the book and turned it this way and that, before his eyes widened.

“I think that’s for human transmutation.”

“Ah.” Breda and Fuery exchanged a worried look. Even the layman most ignorant of all things alchemic knew that human transmutation was the ultimate taboo, not just in Amestris but in general.

“So, once we get our hands on someone who can read Ancient Xerxian, that one could prove to be a game changer,” Breda muttered. He shoved it on the ‘keep’ pile of documents, and Riza went to sit beside him and take a look at what they had so far.

She had only just settled down when she jumped out of her skin as a pounding against the door began. It was the back door that led out into the alley with the garbage, the door that Madam Christmas brought all the booze in through; the door that would serve as their emergency exit if the speakeasy ever got raided.

No one used that door on a regular basis, and Riza felt her blood going cold. She looked over at Madam Christmas, who, although as guarded as ever, looked genuinely concerned. She gave Riza a nod and reached under the bar, grabbing the rifle that was always kept there in case of problems and tossing it to her, and the two of them made their way through the bar towards the door. Roy followed them, pulling on his gloves and getting ready to strike. The pounding was not letting up, a steady and frantic hammering, and as tense as the noise was making her, Riza thought that the fact it wasn’t being punctuated with ‘open up in the name of the law’ and threats of the door being blown in meant that they weren’t being raided.

“Please!” The voice was muffled through the thick wood and obscured by the constant pounding, but Riza could recognise it in an instant, and ice ran through her veins afresh. “Please let me in! Please!”

Madam Christmas unbolted the door and threw it open, catching Trisha as she fell in through the doorway.

“Trisha? What’s going on?” Riza rushed to help her back on her feet.

“They’ve got Hohenheim!”

#FMA:Brotherhood #FMA Fanfiction #Royai #Riza Hawkeye #Roy Mustang #Fic: Forged Through Fire

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rei382 · 4 years ago

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The last line game ✨💫

Rules: Share your favorite closing lines from 10 of your stories (if you have less than 10 then list them all!). Feel free to skip any that might be too spoilery. Notice any patterns? Pick your #1 and tell us why you love it. Then tag 10 of your favorite authors!

Thanks @andithiel for tagging me!! So sorry for taking so long with this one ^^” I barely remember about half of the things I wrote since most of my works are one shots of various lengths and I have over 100 of them... but I found the time to go over them and see which ones I did like the endings of, so, here’s the list ^^”

More or less in the order I posted them, but not strictly so XD

1. Equilibrium (Drarry, T, 315 words)

With each other, it wasn’t being used.

It was equilibrium.

2. The Marks It Left On Us (Drarry, 358 words, T, please mind the tags before reading)

You ignore the lingering pain in your throat and the burn in your lungs as you smile at him. “I’m alright,” you say, and you know that it’s a lie. Neither of you are alright.

3. Broken Promises (Roy/Ed, 8336 words, T, please mind the tags before reading)

Roy’s head dropped, his cheek leaning against the cold prison bars as he tried to compose himself. He opened his eyes when he started to feel threatened from the darkness. The prison corridor felt emptier than it did before Edward’s visit, colder and darker. His eyes landed on the only thing that sparkled in the dull space: the three coins Edward had dropped on the floor, refusing to take them back when Roy didn’t accept. A memory of a better, more hopeful time, when Roy still thought he’d be able to achieve his goals. Of a time Edward still had faith in him.

He reached over and grabbed the coins, holding them tightly in his hand. He should’ve taken it when Edward offered it, even though he did not earn it. He felt sorry for breaking his promise to Edward. He regretted so many things he’d done, so many things he hadn’t done but should’ve.

Death sounded like a safe haven, almost.

4. Food for Thought (Roy/Ed, 1792 words, T)

Roy chuckled shortly. The feeling of relief was like having the weight of the world lifted off of his shoulders. Combined with the happiness of what Ed was actually saying, it made him feel like he was floating. His soft smile turned into a grin. Hospital or not, he couldn’t wait to see Ed, to hold him and kiss him and tell him face to face how much he loved him. “I’m on my way,” he said, and listened for Ed’s short response before he clicked on the disconnect button. He spent another moment looking at Ed’s grinning picture, now decorating his screen again, with the little numbers showing the length of their call. Four minutes, two seconds and seventy-eight milliseconds. That’s how long it took for Roy to go from panic to the happiest he has been in a very, very long time.

5. Going Public (Roy/Ed, 21781 words, T)

Roy was now so close Ed could feel his warm breath brushing against him. He leaned his forehead against his, their lips so close they almost touched each other. “Are you sure about this? You know people will be talking, even if we just try it out for a week, or a month, or just right now. You can still walk away, I will not hold it against you.”

Ed glanced downwards, at Roy’s lips. Pink and soft, they seemed so tempting. His tongue darted out, wetting his own lips that suddenly felt too dry. He opened his mouth to take in a breath, considering this for just one more moment. Did he want to take the way out Roy offered? But no; those past few days made Ed feel more at ease than he had in very long while, and certainly much happier. At least during the times he forgot about everything else and found himself lost in the conversation he shared with Roy. No. He did not want to back away. He wanted to see what more they could be. He wanted to see how happy they could make each other without pretending, but by being real. He smiled, and placed a kiss on Roy’s lips. It was short and shy, hesitant – and he immediately knew that he wanted more, and this was no mistake. “Yes, I am sure. Let them talk.”

6. Missing (Drarry, 2120 words, T)

For some reason it made him laugh. It annoyed her, but she felt too warm and relaxed to continue caring.

“She definitely takes after you,” he said.

“Excellent. I’m a wonderful person.”

She had to agree with her human. Despite some of his flaws, he was good. For a human.

7. Don’t Quit Your Day Job (Roy/Ed, 5923 words, M)

It was almost like an outer-body experience. Planning a date with Roy Mustang. Because he was more or less caught pleasuring himself to his porn picture. He could not think of anything more insane.

"No, I eat almost anything."

"Good. I'll try to move some stuff and will let you know the exact details. And, Edward?"

Ed turned back, already getting ready to leave. He needed to clear his mind. "Yes?"

Roy smiled at him. "I can't wait."

8. Cupid Owl (Drarry, 17876 words, T)

He looked up at Harry hesitantly, nervous to see his reaction. “Do you… does this bother you?”

Draco had a moment when he thought he might get a panic attack while Harry was staring at the article. He couldn’t read his expression. Would he be mad? Was he regretting spending the night at Draco’s place?

Harry finally turned to look at him, and Draco braced himself to whatever may come. But Harry smiled softly at him, and leaned a bit closer to place a short kiss on his lips. “Not at all. Do you?”

The tension Draco had been holding in his body eased away at once. He smiled back. “I don’t, either.”

9. Worth The Risk (Roy/Ed, 2690 words, T)

Roy kept watching as he closed the door behind him. His lips still burnt from the feeling of Edward’s mouth on them, and for a moment, it felt like being able to kiss Edward was worth all the risks in the world. He relaxed his hold on the file, well aware that the way he clenched on them would leave dents in the paper, and walked towards his desk to place it there.

Riza would scold him so bad when she found out.

10. Scars (Roy/Ed, 520 words, T)

You tell him about the time you took out the trash from your aunt’s establishment and a broken piece of glass tore into your leg. You tell him about the one you got while fighting an alligator. Let alone no alligators lived in Amestris; Ed doesn’t seem to care how crazy the story is. He just listens as if every word you say is important. Sacred.

Woah. I don’t think I’m very good at endings! I usually have the general premise, or a specific scene I wanna write, and I go from there...

I think if I have to choose my #1 it’d be the one I posted here as #1 - Equilibrium. Most people who commented on it really loved that ending line, and I too thought it was a good way to end that little drabble. It represents the way I perceive their relationship perfectly.

I’m gonna tag... @cai-danu , @aurumdalseni , @ausynja and anyone who feels like playing <3

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presumenothing · 4 years ago

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Would you ever write uhhhhh Wrath!Riza AU?

your brain, anon. i like it

aqua regia (for destruction, ice) // AO3

Not all that burns is fire.

(Or: Riza becomes Wrath.)

In another world Riza Hawkeye might have asked the Flame Alchemist to burn away the circle on her back, might have looked at those scars in the mirror and pretended they could lift any of the weight from her shoulders.

In this world that is the least dangerous of everything Wrath carries: a stone at her core red as her eye behind the rifle scope, as hands complicit in plans to burn up this country tearing the heavens from their sky.

She cannot walk away from death as easily as Lust or Envy can, but when the elixir had slid into her veins Riza had burned from the inside and Wrath had walked away with that fire still in her veins, always searing beneath skin that she doubts mortal flame can scar.

(“Now hold still, dear girl,” the scientist had said, gold tooth gleaming dull in lab-light, “it’ll hurt worse if you struggle,” and Riza had remembered Berthold Hawkeye saying the same thing to Wrath at ten and fifteen and eighteen, red on her skin red underneath red burning its way into her heart, and it had been a lie then too.)

ii.

Wrath is angry at everyone and everything at once; furious at the ones who had found a cadet with steady hands and steadier soul and saw fit to unmake that, at herself, at those who knew how blood-drenched this country was and kept painting it anyway. The first time she had seen Roy Mustang again she would have snapped his neck clean in half if not for the knowledge of how valuable State Alchemists were in the chessboard of this country.

(That, and her own distaste for the heat of blood over her own hands. Riza has heard enough from Father and the other homunculi to surmise that the previous incarnations of Wrath had loved blood like the edge of a blade freshly sharpened on diamond.

But she is a sniper – the best markswoman Amestris has ever seen, even before they gave her an eye that could see through anything. Why else would they have chosen her?)

She is the Hawk’s Eye, the Fury of Ishval, hell and its woman scorned all in one, and she makes it known in constellations of bullets and impossible shots, precise and deadly as any alchemist’s array.

Riza had been angry too, when she had let herself be, but hers is a cold ire, locked beneath glaciers and the burn of frostbite.

Wrath makes no such pretences. Wrath answers to a dead woman’s name, and Officer – Lieutenant – Major Hawkeye holds her anger boiling right under the surface, scalds her hands in it and fires the next shot.

iii.

Roy Mustang holds her at a careful arm’s length.

It might’ve been offensive if it weren’t so ironic. He of all humans should know what it means to hold flame in your hands: let one weakness slip and fire would burn it right through like so much dry grass.

Then again, maybe it’s that same familiarity that breeds wariness. Riza would hardly know. Fury is not the absence of fear, but in her case it’s fairly close anyway.

Either way, it’s the same distance that prevents Mustang from recognising Wrath’s work in doctoring the Elric brothers’ documents a whole two decades older.

He decides to take Havoc with him, citing something about the persuasion of fellow Easterners; Riza remains in East Command and doesn’t wonder how he will react to finding out that the alchemists he is looking to enlist as human weapons are just barely a third his age.

Not even half of hers, unless you counted the several years since she had become Wrath.

Company for you, Riza thinks none too quietly, and Wrath bristles, shoving her away to wrest back control.

(Riza lets her. This is exactly the duty she’d been assigned – locating potential sacrifices among the State Alchemists and beyond, so there’s not even any insubordination for Wrath to report, even if she won’t realise until much later how spot on she’d been to find one who’d already been through the Gate.

For now she listens to the Flame Alchemist’s empty-handed return from Resembool, hears him say with seemingly unwarranted certainty I saw the fire in his eyes, and this time she does wonder how he can notice that yet miss the same thing in hers.

Riza knows what she sees in the mirror, after all, even if she always has one eye hidden behind a false lens and swept fringe.)

iv.

Wrath, unsurprisingly, finds the Fullmetal Alchemist an absolute riot.

Eight pints of unrefined rage wrapped in red with the volume cranked up to fifty percent past maximum, and if you had asked anyone at all to name one person in this room who might be the personification of fury itself – well.

Edward Elric gets angry in a way that neither of them know how to be. Riza runs cold where Wrath veers hot, but it’s always controlled, the reins another line in the delicate balance between them; in contrast Edward is an explosion, angry and incandescent with it, and sometimes Riza almost wishes they were like that too.

(No you don’t, Wrath mutters over the scratch of a pen.

Riza blinks and sighs, blacking out a line of expletives about Hakuro and the latest shitshow he’d thrown at them; homunculi weren’t much for paperwork. It’d make some things easier, you have to admit. He gets things done.

Like getting himself nearly killed three separate times in a week, ooh, aren’t you supposed to be babysitting the sacrifices, Wrath? I’d like to see them doing it–

Riza doesn’t sigh again, but it’s close.)

Neither of them feel particularly bad about keeping silent over the Elrics’ search when she’s sitting right here, but on Riza’s part it’s mostly because she’s seen enough to be certain that Edward at least would never use a Philosopher’s Stone if he learned what had gone into its making.

Wrath is just looking forward to the day he does find out. Now that’ll be something to watch.

She meets Greed walking down a hallway one afternoon, nodding cordially at the flurry of salutes as he passes each of his people.

Wrath doesn’t miss a beat with her own salute. “Your Excellency.”

“At ease, Major,” the Fuhrer replies with a wave of his hand, but he slows down anyway. “I hear young Elric has made some – acquaintances, shall we say, from Xing with exceptional sensing capabilities. He does collect the most interesting people. I’m impressed.”

“Fullmetal doesn’t take kindly to being called young, sir,” Riza says. “I did hear the same, but I haven’t had the chance of meeting them yet.”

(Not for the first time, she wonders why they had thought it a good idea to put Amestris and all that it represents in Greed’s hands. If humans are possessions to be had, what stopped him from deciding that he’d rather keep it all for himself in the end?)

The Fuhrer smiles, benign as any lethal poison. “Let me know if you’d like some time back in the East, I’m sure your grandfather would enjoy a visit too.”

“I have my duties here, and I’m afraid I’m not much of a chess player. It would only bore General Grumman.”

Wrath’s hands do not tense at her sides, but only because they’re both too disciplined for that. Her aim is every bit as true as his swords, and she might not be able to die and walk away unscathed but neither can Greed; how dare he, Riza thinks.

How dare he, Wrath seethes in agreement, and perhaps it’s time to let some things slip to the Elrics after all.

(She is angry at them, for taking this entire plan one-and-a-half steps closer to fruition, but Riza is angry at everyone; this is just par for the course.

The difference is that she is even angrier for them. Riza barely remembers her mother, and if Berthold had still been alive Wrath would have killed him anyway, so she cannot honestly say that she understands the Elrics in that regard.

But Edward rages at the universe demanding equivalency from it while Alphonse aims cuttingly sharp remarks and wonders about his humanity in the next breath. They would be furious if they knew, anger burning hot and frigid cold, and she is Wrath and Riza Hawkeye and both and neither – this, she understands.)

+1.

“There was something I’d wanted to ask of you, after Ishval, if – things had been different,” Mustang finishes blindly in more ways than the literal, and it’s irritating what a production he can make out of not saying if I hadn’t mistrusted you.

Riza’s fringe is properly out of her eyes for the first time in years, not that he can see it, and she’d walked away from the Promised Day essentially unscathed but the Philosopher’s Stone is gone now along with Wrath; if she did ask the Flame Alchemist to burn away the circle after regaining his eyesight it would even scar over properly.

She won’t. She knows she won’t.

Wrath had known it too. Riza still hasn’t quite parsed the jumbled impressions of those last moments, but above all of it there had been mirth. Amusement, because they had both looked at Riza’s soul unfolding around them and recognised the anger there that was hers. Had always been, only shut away and sunk deep in ice.

If she has any fire in her veins now it is only proverbial, but she is still the Hawk’s Eye, the Fury of Ishval, and there’s more than enough left to burn the next person who tries to lay hands on her.

She looks at Roy Mustang now and continues to not snap his neck because he might be the best hope for this sorry excuse of a country, and anyway if she strangled an injured man in his hospital bed Wrath would laugh at her from another plane and say told you so, he had it coming.

“I’d rather you continue not asking it, Colonel,” Riza says, controlled as ever, but the anger is her own and she relishes the cold-hot burn of it. “I was Wrath, sir, consider yourself lucky that I didn’t let my finger slip on the trigger anytime during Ishval.”

Mustang winces, like he’d managed to avoid consciously putting it together until this point. “I suppose that, ah, rather answers it anyway. So that’s a no to supporting my bid for presidency?”

“That depends on your plans. Which you can tell me about after I’ve returned from my month’s worth of personal leave,” she adds pointedly, and turns to go instead of adding that Greed’s not exactly a high bar to beat anyway. “Have a speedy recovery, sir. Good day.”

Mustang’s expression as the door closes suggests that he’s actually okay with having a second-in-command that has been angry at him for years, and she’s… not sure what to do with that, really, but maybe she can work with it. Maybe.

(Fury is not the absence of fear, nor a dearth of kindness; the Elrics are proof enough of that. Riza knows what she saw in the mirror this morning, familiar and foreign all at once, and she’ll just have to figure out the rest from there.

Perhaps she’ll drop by Resembool and stay for a bit. She’s not angry at anyone there, not anymore – it might be a nice change of pace for once.)

EDIT: NOW WITH ART FROM ART

(more fics here)

oh boy. this was literally stream of consciousness on my part with even less planning than usual, impossible as that sounds – all i knew i wanted was for wrath!riza to be much more like greed!ling than wrath!bradley, because otherwise what would be the point.

but then even as i was writing i realised how many people riza would have reason to be angry at, justified or otherwise: roy for the whole flame alchemy thing, the elrics for getting into this mess, even grumman for leaving her with berthold if he’d even suspected what was going on (and for the record, wrath would 100% killed berthold on riza’s behalf if he hadn’t already been dead)

and then i dithered on how to finish this (and indeed whether to finish it at all, i was tempted to throw hands after the second to third sections) but then my three brain cells summarily went GIVE RIZA HAWKEYE AGENCY GIVE IT BACK TO HER and fuck yeah i agreed. so here we are. in this verse roy never asks her the whole “guard my back but also shoot me if i go wrong” thing, because it’d just be… utterly ridiculous, in context, and also it’s possible that riza ends up leaving the military entirely or goes to support olivier for fuhrer instead. wrath would certainly appreciate the hell outta that

anyway this is a mess and probably the most ooc riza i have ever written but i hope y’all enjoyed it anyway

title notes: aqua regia aka regal water, a nitric/hydrochloric acide mixture so named by alchemists for dissolving noble metals like gold + a bit cribbed straight off robert frost

#fma #fmab #riza hawkeye #WRATH!RIZA WRATH!RIZA #fanfiction #long post #mine #smh tumblr stop eating readmores on asks #today on 'presume attempts to jam another AU in under 2k words'#asks

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mahoushojoe · 4 years ago

Note

maiko | kataang | royai

OOOOOOO A LOADED ONE OKAY

maiko:

C : not a bad ship

controversial take from a zutara shipper, i know, i know. honestly i....don't mind maiko? they had some cute moments together. it's nothing to write home about but it doesn't grate on me. lots of people say mai was never there for zuko but she actually was there for him in that part right before day of the black sun. i feel ppl are a bit harsh on maiko bc of their ups and downs, without considering that mai and zuko are both Fucked Up Teenagers. that being said, i'm not a huge fan. like i would read a fic featuring it, but not a ship ABOUT it, if you catch my drift lol

kataang:

E- I don't really like it

I don't really have a reason for why I don't like it, it's just not my cup of tea, that's pretty much it. It just doesn't interest me.

royai:

A+ - OTP

WHERE TO BEGIN. MY GOD!!!!!!!! MY GOD THE PURE POETRY THAT IS ROYAI!!!!!!! THE SHAKESPEAREAN TRAGEDY!!!!!!

like.....the BIGGEST indication that they're literally soulmates is how throughout the entire series they don't say "i love you" or embrace or do ANYTHING particularly or traditionally romantic and yet we all KNOW they're in love and they just can't act on it bc of the laws and bc of how they feel that they are undeserving of love because of their crimes and just......JUST..........

SCREAMS

they somehow hit ALL the tropes??????? THEY'RE SO GOOD!???? IN BOTH FMAS???? fma03's "damn it, roy mustang, talk to me!" line just fucking GETS to me every time and when roy says "the world isn't perfect. but it's trying the best it can. that's what makes it so damn beautiful" while stroking her hair and you KNOW you just KNOW and in fmab when riza just goes absolutely fucking ballistic on lust bc she thought she killed roy (i could write a dissertation about the lust fight and its implications about royai) and their SECRET CODES and the way the GATE TO ROY'S FUCKING SOUL TOOK THE SHAPE OF THE TATTOO ON RIZA'S FUCKING BACK-

uhhh so. no ship, ever, is gonna do it like royai. like. nothing. it will forever remain one of the absolute greatest ships in human history and its not even officially canon, my GOD.

also sorry this turned into a whole royai rant jsiwoeodksie i probably should have made a separate post 😅 Thank you for the ask!! 💖💖

#royai #ask game

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fullmetalscullyy · 5 years ago

Text

kidnapped secrets

Can write about how someone is trying to find the secrets of flame alchemy and riza is freaked out or something and hughes find out about the tattoo, just a thought that was in my head – raven on ao3

Maybe someone after flame alchemy discovered the tattoo and kidnapped riza and is trying to either restore the tattoo or get her to talk or something so the team has to rescue her but Roy's the only one who knows why and is the one who finds her/goes to extra lengths to protect the secret etc etc? - TheTeaQueen on ao3

i believe TheTeaQueen asked for this request months ago and i’m so sorry but it literally got buried in my wips. it was so similar to another request i received recently on ao3 so i’ve combined them both together. hope you enjoy! sorry for the long wait!

WARNING: GRAPHIC DEPICTIONS OF VIOLENCE

rated: M | words: 4522

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Riza replied coldly.

“I think you do,” the man before her smirked. His spine straightened and he walked away from her chair, coming to a stop beside a table. Riza bristled in her restraints, noting the number of wicked looking instruments that rested atop the wood. Her chest seized and panic began to well inside as her captor picked up a knife.

“Flame alchemy is one of the rarest forms of the science out there,” the man began, turning the knife over to look at the shining blade. He scrutinised it closely, using his shirt to wipe off some dirt. Then, it returned to the table. “No one in history has ever come close to obtaining its secrets, except for one man, of course.” This time he picked up an axe and ran his finger down the length of the blade. He hissed in pain and Riza watched as blood was drawn from the pad of his finger. Placing the axe back down, he wiped the digit on his trouser leg. “You, Lieutenant Hawkeye, happen to be in very close contact with this man. Colonel Mustang has often named you as his closest confidant, has he not? It would only be natural he shared where he got those secrets from, wouldn’t it?”

“Why do you think it’s the rarest form of alchemy?” she asked. It was hard, but she managed to keep the bite out of her words. It wouldn’t be wise to provoke him. “We’re work colleagues. Nothing more.”

“Ah, see,” the man argued. “That’s where you’re wrong.”

“How so?” she enquired.

If she could keep him talking that meant it would put off any blows until later. She needed to try and get as much information out of him as possible. It was obvious he was looking for the flame alchemy secrets. Even with the array on her back, it had been burned in the most important places so that no one would fully be able to understand it.

“You see, I’ve got men all over the city,” he drawled, like she was supposed to be impressed. “These men have keen eyes, however I suppose no one could hold a candle to you, The Hawk’s Eye.”

Riza shifted. She hated that nickname. It was born from murder. She wanted nothing to do with it.

Reaching behind him, the man picked up another knife. This one was shorter than the previous but curved menacingly at the end. He passed it from hand to hand, watching as the sunlight from above bounced off the steel and right into her eyes. He smirked. He was toying with her.

“However, these men aren’t blind, like you seem to think most people are.”

Riza turned guarded. Just what was he implying? Dread crawled up her spine, unwelcome.

“They have seen the Colonel frequently meeting up with someone during the night,” he revealed casually, as if he was talking about the weather outside. Riza’s stomach dropped. “Two o’clock in the morning seems an awful inconvenient time to have a house guest, doesn’t it, Lieutenant Hawkeye?”

She swallowed. “I wouldn’t know.”

He puffed air out of his nose softly. He didn’t believe her. His smirk remained.

“See, I think you would. Because these men stated this mystery guest had a striking resemblance to yourself. However,” he shrugged. “That might just be Mustang’s type. I wonder why that is though?” he grinned over at her. He brough the knife to a stop in his hands, no longer toying with it. He gripped it tightly as glee showed in his eyes.

Riza swallowed again. She was sure he could hear the motion. The sound rattled around her skull, just like his words did. They bounced off each other angrily, creating a panic.

Her captor stood. He advanced slowly, eyes never leaving her face. Instinctively, Riza leaned back in the chair. She couldn’t get far thanks to her restraints, however she still desperately wanted to put as much distance between this man and her. The end was coming, that much she knew.

The knife lifted to kiss the skin of her neck. Her captor’s face was right in hers as the blade travelled the length of her scar from the Promised Day. Riza shuddered.

“I will get those secrets from you, Lieutenant Hawkeye,” he purred. The sound made her feel sick. “Mark my words. Even if I have to remove it from your skin myself.”

Her eyes widened. How did he know it was a tattoo? Had he seen –

The glee on his face told her he knew exactly where the secrets were hidden.

“Thank you for confirming it for me. My men are bad people, but they would never stoop so low to watch you and your Colonel together. They have some form of decency, of course. It was just a lucky guess, because where else would they be, if they lay with you? If you could see them clearly, you would probably have deciphered them yourself. If you had them written down in a book, a certain Colonel wouldn’t be so protective of your body.” His gaze dropped, looking down at her legs. “Although, I can’t blame him, regardless of that fact.”

Riza’s skin crawled and bile rose in her throat. She felt violated with just one look alone.

“We did our research and I thought it was just love. That was why he cared for you so much. Turns out it was for the alchemy as well. His life’s work laid out on your skin. Walking notebook for a man with an ego the size of a house. Why did you agree to do something like that, then follow him all those years? It must have hurt like hell.”

Riza didn’t have to give him shit, so she wouldn’t. He didn’t deserve to know her past or her reasons.

“Perhaps its more than love?” he pondered, straightening, and tapping his chin with the edge of the knife. His expression was thoughtful. “Perhaps blind devotion plays a part in it too? Has he locked you into some kind of deal? Your body, both for its secrets and the love you so obviously give him,” he grinned wickedly. “For his knowledge and power. A steep price to pay. Makes me wonder why a woman such as yourself, headstrong and more than capable to do great things, would trap yourself with the likes of him?”

This man knew nothing. Riza wouldn’t rise to his bait. That’s all he was doing. He probably got some kind of sick satisfaction out of his musings. Or loved the sound of his own voice. Both seemed likely.

“Silence huh? Maybe I hit the mark perfectly,” he snickered.

“Believe what you want,” Riza bit out. “Make your assumptions. You’re not the first.”

“Ah, ah,” he tutted. “But these assumptions are true, aren’t they? Well,” he corrected. “At least some are. I know that much. My assumptions are based on the majority of what I’ve witnessed.”

Riza glared at him.

Her captor sighed. “Not playing ball, huh?” He sounded so disappointed. “All right then. It’s no fun when people don’t play along.” Flipping the knife to his other hand, he advanced quickly.

Again, Riza reared back, but his hand on her head, gripping her hair painfully tight, kept her still. He pulled her head back, pressing the knife to her neck.

“If your throat’s cut, you won’t get very far,” he explained. “However, I think you know all about that already, don’t you?” he sneered.

There was a pinch in her neck as the blade pressed into her skin. It was the opposite side of her scar from the Promised Day.

She was panicking. Years of training meant nothing when she was transported back in time to the tunnels underneath Central. Her life fading before her eyes. Her blood flowing down a drain off to the side. Roy screaming at her…

Riza felt blood trickle down the column of her throat as flames engulfed her captor’s hideout. They were searing hot, carrying the echoes of screams along with it as the fire pushed further into the room.

She knew he’d come for her. But Riza also knew there would be consequences for her if he did.

A sharp jolt of pain in her left side had her eyes wide, eyes open in panic and fear. Riza’s breath was choked from her lungs as pain exploded in her oblique. Looking down, the knife her captor had been holding was sticking out of her body. It was removed quickly, but not before dragging through the fabric of her uniform and across a part of her back.

* * *

“Get in!”

Roy’s head snapped to his right, gripping the wrist at his shoulder protectively. Through the pouring rain on the dark night he spotted a car. Inside, Hughes was in the driver’s seat, his expression a picture of worry and urgency.

Altering his run, Riza stumbled beside him at the sudden change. She faltered, falling forward and she groaned.

“It’s all right,” Roy told her over the sound of the pounding rain. “It’s Hughes.”

“Hurry!” Hughes yelled.

Roy ripped open the door to the backseat and bundled Riza inside. He ducked instinctively as gunshots began to sound behind him, but Hughes had them covered. Through the open passenger’s window, he covered Roy. Giving up sitting in the passenger’s seat, Roy dived into the back beside Riza. He ended up on top of her after slamming the door closed and Hughes took off at breakneck speed.

“What the hell?” Hughes barked as he drove.

“Get us to the safehouse,” Roy replied. He was thrown onto the floor as Hughes braked suddenly then took a sharp turn to the right. His hand remained on Riza’s side to steady her.

She was in a bad way. Blood was covering Hughes’ backseat. It was seeping into the leather steadily, originating from a wound on her left side. More blood fell like raindrops from a slice on her neck, but it didn’t look deep.

He didn’t try to get back up beside her on the seat. He would only be thrown off again with Hughes’ frantic driving and may end up hurting Riza in the process.

“Riza?” Roy called to her. “Can you hear me?”

There was no answer.

“Riza?” He was desperate.

“Almost there,” Hughes called over his shoulder.

Roy reached for her hand and gripped it tightly. He wanted her to know he was there. That someone was here with her. Roy never wanted to let go.

Once stopped, Hughes was out the door in a flash and rounded the car to Riza’s head. He eased her out gently with his hands underneath her arms. He paused and apologised profusely as her eyes flew open in pain but were unfocussed. As Riza struggled in Hughes’ arms, Roy scrambled out and gripped her hand again.

“Riza? It’s Roy. We’ve got you, okay? Hughes is here too. We’re going to take you inside a safehouse. You’re all right.”

Her breathing was still hard, but her fight was waning. Her eyes were still unfocussed, but her head turned to look in Roy’s direction. He offered her a tight smile, not caring if she could see it or not.

“We’ve got you. I promise.” Roy lifted their hands and pressed a kiss to the back of hers. “I won’t let anything happen to you.”

Riza paused for a second then her body went limp. Eyes fluttering closed, she nodded once.

“Let’s get her inside,” Hughes murmured. “The rain’s coming again.”

The weather appeared to be following them because as they reached the front porch, it was hammering down once more. Roy shivered in the cold air, already soaked through from his mad dash through the rain with Riza before Hughes found them. His clothes were sodden and his hair was plastered to his face, but still dripping with moisture. He didn’t care.

“Bandages are in the kitchen,” Roy directed Hughes as he eased Riza down onto the bed. It hadn’t been made so there was just a plastic covering over the mattress, however that was probably better. The plastic made cleaning much easier.

Hughes disappeared and Roy worked on peeling away her jacket and shirt to get a closer look at her wound. His stomach turned when he saw blood oozing from a sizeable stab wound. Anger propelled through his body and he wanted to kill whoever had done this to her –

“What the hell is that?” Hughes asked from the door.

Roy whipped around to face Hughes. His friend’s eyes were on Riza’s back. Glancing back, Roy noticed her tattoo was on show.

Fuck.

“Bandages,” Roy hissed at him. “Now.”

Hughes didn’t need to be told again. That explanation could wait, and Roy knew it would come. It was inevitable. He had to remove her clothing in order to get a proper look at the damage that had been done. Hughes was bound to see more than he should.

Roy hated to do this to her – he knew just how much she hated that tattoo and wanted to keep it hidden – but this would stop the bleeding. He had to do it. Without Hughes finding and helping them, she’d be dead. Roy would just have to deal with the consequences later, when Riza discovered someone else knew about her tattoo.

Protecting some of her tattoo, Roy draped her ruined shirt and uniform jacket over the rest of her back. He angled the fabric so it was only the lower left side of her back showing. There were no more injuries that he could see, thankfully.

Stop the bleeding, get her awake, then ask what happened.

Roy just prayed to everything that was holy on this earth that none of those bastards discovered the tattoo. He really hoped they didn’t.

* * *

“…that?”

“Hughes, voice down. Please.”

“I just don’t get it.”

Riza was startled awake. She groaned in pain as it all came rushing back to her. Her oblique throbbed and in her neck, there was a sharp pinching pain that wouldn’t let up. It nipped at her relentlessly.

“You did that to her?” she heard Hughes accuse through her fog of pain.

“God, no!” Roy exclaimed. “How dare you!”

“Well then, explain it to me, Roy! Because you do not want to hear the assumption that is rattling around in my head right now.”

“That isn’t my story to tell,” Roy hissed.

“It is, because that tattoo on her back is on your fucking gloves.”

Riza froze.

Hughes knows.

Shit.

She had to get up and tell him. She could appreciate Roy not breathing a word like she asked and like he promised, but Hughes wouldn’t rest until he got an explanation.

It took three tries, but Riza eventually managed to sit up. She had to bite her lip hard to stop from crying out. Panting, she swung her legs out of bed. With a hand clutched to her left side Riza shuffled towards the door of the bedroom. Upon opening it, she came upon their argument.

They were in a safehouse, Riza knew that much. She recognised it. In the centre of the living area, Roy and Hughes were locking horns. Hughes was facing her, eyes snapping to the new movement out the corner of his eyes. The fight fell from him as he set eyes upon Riza. He wasn’t supposed to be here, however Riza remembered Roy telling her they were in Hughes’ car while she was semi-conscious. He’d come to help, and she was grateful for that.

“Hughes,” she rasped. Her fingers gripped the wood painfully hard. She had to in order to stay upright. Any wrong shift and she’d crumple, but Hughes had to know. Roy had nothing to do with her tattoo.

“Oh, shit,” Roy exclaimed. He lunged for her, grasping her elbow, and gently but firmly removing her hand from the doorframe. He squeezed it tight. Roy’s face was one of worry and concern. “Riza?” he called to her, but she only had eyes for Hughes. “Go back to bed, please. There’s nothing to worry about right now –”

“It wasn’t Roy,” she continued, ignoring him. “The tattoo had nothing to do with him.”

Hughes swallowed, expression setting as his lips formed a hard line. Riza watched as he tried to calm himself.

“Riza, back to bed,” Roy urged.

“You have to believe me,” Riza ploughed on. “Believe him, please. He would never do something like this.”

Pain lanced in her side and she gasped, squeezing her eyes closed. Her body rolled in on itself and she gripped Roy’s hand in a vice-like pressure. Once her eyes were opened, all she could see were grey spots. They varied in size, revealing the real world back to her in brief flashes before another, darker one took its place.

“Riza?” Roy called to her. He sounded terrified.

“Wasn’t him,” she murmured as she began to fall.

Of course, strong arms caught her fall and lowered her gently to the floor.

“Don’t worry about it,” Roy begged her. “I’ll sort this,” he reassured. “I promise. Just rest.”

Was he crying?

Riza didn’t get a chance to find out because she was unconscious as Roy’s warmth encompassed her. For the first time in what felt like days, she felt comfortable and relaxed.

* * *

“She collapsed when standing in here.”

“Why was she standing?” Doctor Knox asked gruffly. “Should’ve been in bed,” he muttered to himself.

“I know,” Roy agreed. But he sounded defeated. Like he thought it was his fault she’d collapsed.

Maes sighed to himself as the two entered the room Hawkeye was recovering in. He knew he wouldn’t be permitted to follow, and Maes didn’t expect to be either. He doubted Roy would stop him, but he was incredibly protective of her right now, especially after he’d seen that tattoo, and Maes didn’t need to make his headache worse.

“Knox, I’d really appreciate it if –”

“I’m not going to gossip,” he interrupted, offended at the insinuation.

“No, I know, but –”

“This is off the record, Colonel.”

That ended that discussion and a part of Maes was glad.

“Thank you, Knox.”

Whatever that was on Hawkeye’s back was important and it had something to do with flame alchemy. Had she been taken for the secrets she harboured? They didn’t know yet. There had been no communication between Hawkeye and them yet. She hadn’t been conscious for long enough.

Sighing again, Maes sat on the couch. He pressed his thumb and forefinger into the bridge of his nose to try and ease the tension in his head.

It didn’t take long for Knox to finish up his treatment. Upon exiting the bedroom, he stopped and looked at Maes.

“She stays here for a week at the very least. That’s a medical order.”

“Understood,” Maes nodded.

“If she tries to leave, I will sign her off as unfit for work.”

Without another word, he left.

Roy didn’t leave the bedroom.

Maes contemplated knocking to see if everything was all right but ultimately decided against it. The house was finally silent, and it was nice.

Anger burst forth inside of him at the thought of what was on Hawkeye’s back. She’d insisted it wasn’t Roy, but it was tied to him in some way. He’d caught site of old scars too. Were they burn scars? His hand formed a fist on his knee. Maes always knew they were tied together in some way that went deeper than childhood friends.

Relaxing back into his seat, Maes let it go. Embracing the brief moment of peace after their frantic and adrenaline fuelled escape from Hawkeye’s captors, he would leave it. For now.

* * *

Maes was flipping through a book, too engrossed in the storyline to notice that Roy had fallen asleep on the armchair across from him. He’d barely been sleeping for the past three days. Hawkeye had yet to waken up properly after the medication Knox had ministered. She’d been awake in short bouts, but nothing substantial. Maes was incredibly worried about his friend, but Roy’s concern far surpassed his. Every time the house moved, he’d twitch and cock his ear towards Hawkeye’s room. Satisfied that he heard no movement, he would return to staring at the floor with his hands clasped in front of his face, elbow resting on his knees. Maes wasn’t sure if Roy even realised he was doing it. At night Maes would leave to go home to his family. By morning, he’d be back to find Roy sleeping uncomfortably in the same chair he was in now, but by Riza’s bedside.

It was troubling to see how much Roy was beating himself up about this, but it was also very telling. What Maes had assumed all along was in fact true. Roy Mustang was in love with Riza Hawkeye. It was obvious.

He was also too distracted to notice the door to Hawkeye’s room had opened.

“Hughes?” Riza asked.

Jumping in fright, Maes scrambled to sit up in his chair.

“Hawkeye,” he smiled, relief flooding him.

She paused, looking at Roy crammed awkwardly into the chair he was sleeping in. Hawkeye shuffled over and Maes just watched.

“He, uh, does that a lot,” Maes revealed.

Hawkeye nodded. “I know,” she admitted softly. “I noticed.”

Maes swallowed. Glancing at Hawkeye’s face, he noted the pained look on her face as she stared down at her commanding officer. Her fingers brushed hair off his face with such tenderness and care, he felt the urge to avert his eyes. He shouldn’t be privy to a moment like this.

“He shouldn’t, though,” she murmured wistfully.

Shifting uncomfortably, Maes interrupted her moment quietly. “How are you doing?”

“Sore,” she admitted. Hawkeye sighed, but it was cut off as she grimaced.

“Here, sit,” Maes offered, rising from his chair.

“Thank you.” It looked like she was regretting moving from Roy’s side, but her eyes never strayed far from his face.

“He’s all right. He’s taken it hard.”

Hawkeye nodded, pursing her lips. “I thought he might. Let’s let him sleep.”

“He loves you, Riza,” Maes revealed gently.

“I know,” she admitted in a whisper.

“You feel the same way, don’t you?” he pried.

Hawkeye met his eyes head on. “I do.”

Maes smiled at her sadly. “I thought you did.” He shook his head and sat back in the chair. “It’s some predicament to be in.”

“We made our bed,” she replied firmly. “Now we have to lie in it.”

“You’re allowed to be happy though, Riza,” he stated gently. “You were just following orders.”

“I’ve found I’m not the type,” she replied. “Not until we’ve righted our wrongs.”

Maes knew that would be her answer, but he had to try.

“Besides,” Hawkeye swallowed. “I knew I’d be used against him, or vice versa.”

“And were you this time?” Maes ventured carefully.

Riza paused, but eventually nodded. “Yes.” Her voice was hoarse. Fear spread across her face before she could reign it tightly in. “They wanted the secrets for flame alchemy.”

“You have them?”

Riza nodded. “My father tattooed them on my back to keep his work safe.”

Maes’ blood ran cold. Her father… Did that?

“And – And the scars?” Gracia often told him he was too nosy for his own good, but he had to know. He was all in now. There was no hiding it and there was no taking it back. Plus, it may serve him to know. He knew how much was at stake now when he went after the bastards that did this.

“That was him.” Hawkeye’s eyes flicked over towards Roy. Maes huffed in disapproval. “I asked him too,” she whispered. “After Ishval. I didn’t want there to be another Flame Alchemist. There couldn’t be. Not after what happened.”

Maes’ anger dissipated, fizzling out into nothing as he heard Riza’s voice wobble.

“He set me free. Roy freed me from my father’s burden.” Her breath caught and her body shuddered as she let loose a breath.

Slowly and carefully, Maes edged over and placed a hand on her shoulder. He gave it a squeeze of comfort. He couldn’t offer much more than that.

“I owe him so much. And while we can’t be together, that’s fine.” It certainly didn’t sound like it was fine. It sounded like she was struggling.

“You’re allowed to be happy sometimes, Riza,” Maes murmured. “It can help. Believe me.”

She shook her head. “It was because of us being happy that the array was found in the first place,” she replied fearfully. “Those men they – they saw us… meeting up.”

Maes’ eyes widened. His stomach tensed uncomfortably. Just what had those bastards seen?

“We can’t do it again,” Riza added. “We can’t.” She sounded so broken and helpless. “And I don’t know how to tell him.”

Maes’ heart hurt for his friends. They were well and truly stuck, and their worst fears had come true.

“You tell him the truth,” Maes replied simply. “It will hurt like hell, I know, but if you truly think it’s for the best, then that’s up to you.”

Hawkeye bit her lip, conflicted. This was an interesting side to her, Maes thought. He’d never seen Riza Hawkeye deal with matters of the heart before, and here she was, laid out before him. It was difficult to watch.

“Now you’re awake, Knox told me you’re not allowed to leave here until the end of next week.” Her gaze snapped up to his sharply. She was clearly disapproving. “If you insist on leaving, he’ll sign you off as unfit for work, and we both know that long, drawn out process isn’t worth it.”

Riza huffed, but she nodded. “All right.”

“I’ll work on the case. Roy stays here too, all right? Keep out of sight and stay hidden. I’ve been doing some digging and those men are still after you both.”

“Okay,” she agreed.

“Take care of him, okay? Don’t let him beat himself up too much.”

She snorted softly. “I don’t think I’ll be able to, even if I tried.”

“No, I wouldn’t be able to,” Maes interjected. “You, however, you will.” Hawkeye’s eyes made their way back to Maes’ and he smiled at her. Giving her shoulder one last squeeze, he stood from his seat. “He listens to you.”

Hawkeye glanced back to Roy, then nodded.

“I’ll be in touch soon,” Maes announced, shrugging on his jacket. “Remember, a week from Sunday, okay? That’s when you’re allowed to leave.”

“Thank you, Hughes.”

He smiled warmly at her. “Anytime, Riza. You know that. Give me a call if you need anything.”

Maes closed the door to the safehouse quietly behind him. With a determined and purposeful stride, he started towards his car. He had work to do. And, he wasn’t ashamed of his little white lie. Perhaps it would give the two of them some much needed time together, away from prying eyes, so that they may find some kind of peace and happiness together.

#royai #royai fic #royai fanfic #royai oneshot #emma writes #fic request #writing prompts

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eskalations · 5 years ago

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"I wouldn't tell anyone just yet." The doctor advised her in a gentle tone, seeing the pallor of her skin. The older woman put a hand on her knee in what she assumed was an attempt at a comforting gesture. "Pregnancies at this age rarely make it."

A series of oneshots documenting the life and times of the Amestrian First Family.

A/N: So this idea popped into my head wayyyyy before the events of the first chapter did - however, I held out on writing this one down! I hope you enjoy!

Thanks for reading!

"Mama!" Elizabeth shouted as she bounced excitedly down the steps of the daycare. Riza could feel her heart clench as she watched her daughter's delicate sandals slide haphazardly on her feet, the mother fearing the young girl would trip if she didn't slow down in those shoes. However, Elizabeth made it safely to the ground.

Riza breathed a sigh, glad to have her daughter in front of her once again. She had certainly missed the sweet child.

"Elizabeth, you have to be careful." The woman crouched down to meet her daughter's gaze, using a hand to push an errant strand of black hair behind her ear. "We don't run down stairs. You know that you aren't allowed to do that in the house, either."

With Elizabeth's normally demure nature, Riza thought the girl would quiet after being chastised, but that was not the case. Instead of flashing a pout – reminiscent of her father's – Elizabeth smiled even brighter.

"I'm sorry, Mama!" She chirped, bouncing up on the balls of her feet, tiny hands gripping the straps of her little pink backpack. "I'm excited! Miss Helen is so pretty!"

Having met the young girl's new teacher less than a month back, Riza nodded her head in agreement. She grabbed the little girl's hand as they made their way back home. The five-year-old could barely contain her excitement as she talked animatedly about her day.

It had been a hard decision for her and Roy to enroll their daughter into an educational daycare separate from Central Headquarters. Both had always had a certain peace of mind knowing that their sweet girl was being taken care of just a few floors down, but life inevitably had to keep moving forward and Riza was learning that the hard way.

Two weeks after they had decided to allow their child to attend Central Children's Daycare, Riza had received some startling news.

She was pregnant at forty-one years of age.

The doctor had been shocked – she had been shocked – but it shouldn't have been much of a surprise. Due to their age, she and Roy hadn't bothered with any form of protection in the last year. It had taken them awhile to fall pregnant with Elizabeth, so they felt they had no real reason to worry at this stage in their life. Turns out, they were wrong.

Once Riza started feeling ill, the thought never even crossed her mind. The sickness in this pregnancy spanned the whole day, whereas with Elizabeth, she had only had it in the morning. Roy had guessed she had the flu and insisted she visit the doctor, which after a full week of vomiting daily, she finally agreed to.

That's when they received the news.

Riza had been numb – a familiar rushing in her ears blocking out the words of her physician. She could hardly believe what she had just been told. As her doctor listed out the possible risks for her falling pregnant at such a mature age, Riza could feel herself getting more and more nauseous at the thought of it.

Would she even have a child at the end of this?

Roy had been over the moon – disregarding all the risks that came along with the unplanned pregnancy. Just as he had been for her pregnancy with Elizabeth, the moment he knew, he became her second shadow. It was annoying, more so than the first go around, but when she caught glimpses of the worried look in his eye, she let him do as he pleased.

Riza watched as Elizabeth very nearly skipped down the sidewalk, going on and on about how Miss Helen's father worked in the hospital and how she had thought it was amazing that Elizabeth wanted to work in the same place. The man didn't practice Alkahestry but apparently Elizabeth's teacher had been impressed that the little girl knew what it was.

"I told her about Mama!" Elizabeth pointed at the woman holding her hand, her grammar and sentence structure not as great as it would be in a few years, but still Riza understood. "I told her about the accident."

The First Lady nodded her head, smiling down at the girl. When the child's attention strayed from her though, she couldn't help the slight frown that made its way to her features.

She still didn't know what to think of the young girl's interest in alchemy.

Riza should have known it would happen sooner or later, given the lineage she came from. Not only was Elizabeth's father a renowned alchemist, but her grandfather had been as well. In some strange way, alchemy must run in their blood. It had certainly skipped over Riza, the woman never caring much for the science, but from the moment she watched her daughter's eyes light up at the doctor's ministrations, she knew Elizabeth had been bit hard by the 'alchemy bug'.

Her and Roy had not discussed it much since they knew children at this age were subject to change. Elizabeth's favorite color changed near weekly, so who's to say this wouldn't change as well. She could end up completely detesting alchemy by the time she hit her teens.

Riza seriously doubted it though.

"Mama?" The girl tugged on her mother's hand, fighting for her attention. Beside them, on the road, a car breezed past, breaking Riza from her thoughts. She pulled the child in tighter, hugging her to her side.

"I'm listening, Elizabeth."

The golden tones of the setting sun fell over her daughter's small features. Riza could see the worry behind the crease in the girl's brow and the pout forming on her pink lips.

"Are you okay?" Elizabeth asked softly, excitement forgotten. Riza's heart clenched once more at her daughter's distraught look. She could hear a slight shaking in her voice, signaling that tears were not far off.

Sometimes she forgot how in tune her daughter was to the emotions around her. If anyone's demeanor changed in even the slightest way, Elizabeth would pick up on it. She was very sensitive to her environment, and though he would never admit it, Riza felt like that was something she had inherited from her father. Both were highly emotional people, just in different ways.

Diffusing the situation, Riza crouched down on the sidewalk, ignoring the looks of the pedestrians walking past them, and grabbed her daughter in an affectionate hug. The girl gratefully returned the gesture.

Snuggling her face into her mother's neck, Elizabeth whispered worriedly. "Is it my baby sister?"

Riza sighed at the question, picking the girl up off her feet and placing her on her hip.

"No, Elizabeth – it's not the baby."

She hadn't wanted to tell her daughter of her condition until she was at least five months into the pregnancy. Her doctor had told her to be cautious for a minimum of twelve weeks, but to take great precaution even after that. Knowing how emotional Elizabeth was, Riza didn't want her child to have to go through the heartbreak of losing a sibling if that's how it all ended.

Roy had agreed – but subconsciously, Elizabeth hadn't.

Their daughter was smart. While her words and grammar were still those of a young child, her emotional intelligence was far beyond her years. She could tell something was wrong with her mother. No matter how many times Riza tried to convince her that she had a stomach bug and was just feeling under the weather, the girl wouldn't buy it.

The situation had gotten so bad that Elizabeth had taken to joining her and Roy in their bed almost nightly. This confused both her parents as Elizabeth had never had much trouble sleeping on her own and rarely caused a fuss at night. When asked why she was fearful of sleeping in her own room, she had asked a question that absolutely broke Riza's heart.

"Is Mama dying?"

She had said it with tears in her eyes, lip wobbling as she curled into her mother's side and shoved her face roughly into her neck. Her behavior had worried her parents so much, that they decided to break their silence on the subject, sharing with Elizabeth that in less than seven months, she would become a big sister.

After that, Elizabeth had no problem sleeping in her room once again.

Now, five months into her pregnancy, Riza was feeling better about things. Elizabeth had enjoyed her first day at her new daycare, the morning sickness was gone, Roy was working on drafting up a new trade policy with Aerugo, things were looking up.

As they sat at dinner that night, Riza watching Roy listen raptly to their daughter's rehashing of her day, the woman couldn't help but think to herself that nothing could ruin this moment in her life.

Unfortunately, she was wrong.

Barely in to her sixth month of pregnancy, Riza retrieved her daughter from school and noticed an immediate difference in the girl's usual happy demeanor.

"Elizabeth?" Riza had asked as they began their walk home. She waved at the little elderly woman who sat on her doorstep, greeting the children as they were released from 'school'. Riza looked down and noticed that Elizabeth hadn't even bothered to raise her hand. Something must have happened, that wasn't like her daughter at all. "Elizabeth, what's wrong?"

The girl was strangely silent, her dark eyes staring at the sidewalk in front of her. Knowing these kind of situations were only made worse by prying, Riza decided to let her decide when she was going to come forward with what was bothering her.

By the time they reached their home, Elizabeth still had not said a word. Looking back at the two guards who accompanied her everyday on her walk – something she had only agreed to due to her pregnancy – she could see they were just as confused by the young child's behavior as she was. They were used to watching the mother struggle to curb the young girl's excitement and now today she had barely bothered to even look up.

More surprising was Elizabeth's reaction when she walked through the door.

It was evening, so Roy was already home for the afternoon. Knowing that Riza's feet had been bothering her, he had offered to start dinner for her so she wouldn't have to stand for long. Hearing his two favorite girls enter the hall, Roy turned the stove down to simmer before poking his head out of the kitchen.

"Hi Lizzie." The Fuhrer called, gifting the child with a sweet smile. Riza knew he still missed having their daughter at Headquarters, the man having made it a habit to visit her every day on his lunch break – however, he had been happy to see how much fun his daughter was having learning at her new daycare. He loved getting to hear about her day. "Did you enjoy daycare today?"

Elizabeth's brows drew inward, her expression growing darker as she continued to stare at the ground in front of her. Riza, still holding her hand, shared an uncertain look with Roy. Neither adult knew exactly what had gotten into their daughter.

Without another word, Elizabeth let go of her mother's hand, trudging up the stairs to her room with her backpack still over her shoulders. Roy couldn't hide his surprise as the sound of their daughter slamming her door echoed through the hall. Riza's face wasn't much different than his own.

"What happened?" There was a certain fire in the man's eyes that the woman recognized far too well. It was the same look he got whenever something – or someone – threatened anyone who was of great importance to him. "Did something happen at the daycare?"

"I don't know." Riza answered truthfully. She moved to free herself from her outer coat, the days getting chillier, but her husband beat her to it. She could feel the tension in his hands as he slid the fabric from her shoulders. "She pouted the whole way home."

Roy's brow furrowed, much in the way their daughter's had. Despite her worry, Riza couldn't help the soft laugh that erupted from her lips.

"She reminds me of someone else I know."

The comment had Roy rolling his eyes as he placed her coat on the rack. When he turned back around, his face softened. Riza imagined it was because his gaze had fallen squarely on her swollen stomach.

"Maybe this one will be more like you." Roy sighed, placing a gentle hand on the crest of her belly. The baby had been moving, but he had yet to feel it. Riza placed her own hand on top of his. "I don't think I could handle another 'me'."

Riza laughed at his lament, squeezing his fingers. "Imagine how I feel!"

"I know." Roy smirked, his thumb rubbing a circle above her belly. "I thank whoever will listen daily that I have you in my life."

Riza gave him another smile before turning towards the kitchen, determined to help him finish dinner. She knew he would argue, saying that he could finish it on his own, but she actually enjoyed the act of getting to cook with him. It gave them some time to talk – alone.

Well, as alone as two people could be with two guards always standing just outside their door.

"She's a very well-behaved child." Riza reminded him, lifting her apron over her head. She reached behind her to tie the strings, but Roy beat her to it. Lifting her hair, she continued as he tied the garment securely around her. "We could have ended up with children like the Havoc boys. Then you would have a little more to worry about than just a few grey hairs."

Roy snorted at the comment. "Poor Havoc and Rebecca. I don't know how they survived all these years."

He kissed the back of her neck as he finished, reaching around her to turn the dial of the burner up once again. Riza leaned back as he brought his other arm to wrap around her. Blame it on her pregnancy hormones, but she found herself craving her husband's touch more and more throughout the day. Roy didn't seem to mind at all – in fact, he was quite happy about it.

"I am worried." Riza admitted, leaning her head back on his shoulder. She could feel him tense at the remembrance of his daughter's sour mood. "I've never seen her so upset after daycare. I hope the kids aren't causing her any trouble."

Roy pursed his lips, trying hard to push down thoughts of showing up to her 'school' to teach said "bullies" a lesson. "I hope so too – for their sake, of course."

Riza rolled her eyes and swatted at his thigh. Roy knew better though; the woman was just as protective of their child as he was.

"Maybe she got in trouble with her teacher?" Riza proposed, giving him a sideways glance. Her amber eyes locked with his own, worry evident in her gaze. "You know how upset she gets when she's in trouble."

"Miss Helen's gone…"

The two adults separated at the sound of their daughter's voice. Turning around they saw her standing in the doorway, the evening sun that poured through the window, illuminating the wet trails that kissed the skin of her cheeks. Already she had changed into pajamas, the shirt not matching the pants, but the little girl too upset to care.

The sight broke her parents' hearts.

"Lizzie," Roy murmured gently, making his way to the now trembling girl. Riza stayed by the stove to keep an eye on their dinner – her mind, however, was with her daughter. The mother watched as Roy scooped the girl up and into his arms, cradling her close to his chest.

With her father holding her like a baby, Elizabeth's composure broke. Wrapping her small arms around the man's neck, the young girl buried her warm face into the shoulder of his button-down. A few moments later, choking sobs could be heard.

There was a stricken look on Roy's face as he patted the distraught child's back, sharing a concerned look with Riza. "Lizzie, I'm sorry Miss Helen is gone."

Turning the burner down to simmer once more, Riza chose to join her husband and child in the doorway of the kitchen.

"She didn't say goodbye!" Elizabeth very nearly wailed, her voice shaking as she turned her dark eyes towards her father, the pain evident in their depths. "She left. She left."

Riza raised her hand and rested it over her husband's on their daughter's back. Roy had already started bouncing the girl, attempting to get her to calm down. Riza could see he was at a loss for words, so she decided to step in.

"I bet she had a good reason for leaving." Riza's hand slipped from Roy's to run through her daughter's dark locks. Her hair was getting so long now that it was almost past the middle of her back. It was tangled from the fit the child had probably just thrown in her room moments before. "The good thing is that you'll get a new teacher who will be just as special."

At her mother's words, Elizabeth's face returned to her father's shoulder and the sobs began again. Roy's eyes widened at her response.

"Hey…" The man mumbled into her ear, continuing to bounce as her trembling returned with vigor. Riza removed her hand from the girl's hair, which was then replaced with Roy's. His fingers gently held the back of her neck, his thumb rubbing comforting circles into her skin. "Lizzie, you need to calm down. You'll love your new teacher just as much."

"She…She…" Elizabeth tried to say, but her sobs were causing her to shake too much. Roy waited as she caught her breath, still shushing her between bounces. "She don't like me."

The adults were too surprised by her words to bother correcting their child's grammar. They shared a look of disbelief before their gazes fell back to their daughter.

Their sweet, sensitive, perfect, daughter. The thought of anyone taking issue with the small child was truly a foreign concept to them. Surely, Elizabeth had misinterpreted something.

"Elizabeth," Riza stepped around Roy, meeting the eyes of her daughter over the curve of his shoulder. The girl's eyes were bloodshot and clear liquid still sat in pools at the bottom of her lids. If Riza wasn't careful, her pregnancy hormones were going to send her into a round of tears as well. "What are you talking about? There's no way your teacher couldn't like you."

Knowing the girl was as well-behaved as they came, and that the Havoc boys had all come out of that school unscathed and liked by each of their teachers, Roy had to agree with his wife. He nodded in a show of support for the statement, pressing a gentle hand to the head of his daughter.

Their agreeance did very little to calm Elizabeth's fears. While her breathing was no longer labored – a new set of tears fell down her cheeks. Propping her chin on her father's shoulder, the girl gazed at her mother sadly with big, black eyes.

"Trouble."

The one word had Riza sighing in relief, her earlier theory proven correct. Now knowing the reason behind the young girl's mood, the mother found herself bestowing a gentle smile on the child. Noticing the release of tension in Roy's shoulders, she could tell he was relieved as well.

"There's no reason to get so worked up over something like that." Riza brushed the bangs back from the girl's face, their tips wet from the earlier round of tears. "That doesn't mean your teacher doesn't like you. If you apologized for what you did, then I'm sure everything will be back to normal tomorrow."

Rather than giving her mother a smile in return, the furrow in Elizabeth's brow returned. Her arms tightened around Roy's neck, drawing herself closer to the chest of her father.

"I didn't do it."

Riza was surprised by this, Elizabeth not normally the one to strike up a defense. Their child was honest to a fault and was rarely able to get away with anything. The Havoc boys once teased that she was a notorious squealer whenever they would try and put their crazy plans in to action.

That's why her denial in this situation was so unusual.

"What do you mean, Lizzie?" Roy asked, turning his head so he could see his daughter's expression. His hand was still on her back, the warmth meant to encourage her to put her trust in him and reveal what was bothering her. "What did you get in trouble for?"

The furrow in her brows deepened, the tears forming in the lower portion of her eyes once more. "Stealing."

To say the two parents were surprised was an understatement.

"Stealing?" Riza asked for clarification. Elizabeth whimpered, nodding her head and hiding her eyes in her father's shoulder. "What did she say you stole?"

"Paper," Elizabeth mumbled, the words muffled by the fabric of Roy's shirt. The man ran his fingers through her hair, encouraging her to say more. "Timothy's paper."

"Did you take it?" The girl's mother asked, shifting closer to her husband and daughter. At her words, Elizabeth shook her head vehemently, looking up at her mother.

"No," Elizabeth answered honestly. Riza could see the genuine hurt in the young girl's eyes at the accusation. "I promise."

Roy patted the girl's back. "We believe you, Lizzie."

Riza nodded her head to show her support for her husband's statement. "We know you wouldn't steal. Your teacher doesn't know you that well, so it was probably a misunderstanding."

Elizabeth looked unconvinced, but nodded nonetheless.

After the discussion, the family went back to preparing dinner, Roy allowing their daughter to assist him in stirring the stew that sat on the stove. As Riza watched her husband and daughter make dinner, she couldn't shake the strange feeling that was nestled in her belly. She tried to brush off the interaction as a fluke, one that wouldn't be repeated in the future.

However, something told her this wasn't the last time her daughter would come home in tears over the actions of her new teacher.

Roy walked Elizabeth to daycare the next morning.

It was their daily ritual, since Riza usually finished her duties earlier in the afternoon and was able to do pickup. Besides, with Riza now pregnant, the woman tended to oversleep more often than naught in the mornings, making Roy the obvious choice as Elizabeth's chauffeur for drop-off.

The girl was quiet, gripping his hand tightly as they made their way down the sidewalk. The street was bustling with cars, the citizens of Central speeding down the pavement. There were a few honks and waves, all directed at the Fuhrer, which he gladly returned with a smile. However, once the act was over, his mouth would fall back into a frown as he watched his daughter stare glumly at the laces of her shoes.

Roy remained silent for the entirety of their journey. He knew that when he was down, the last thing he wanted was for people to try and cheer him up. Elizabeth would see, after attending school, that things were different from yesterday. That was the only thing at this point that could possibly raise her spirits.

With his two standard bodyguards behind them, Roy approached the small, white building that was the Central Children's Daycare. Already, there were many parents in the schoolyard, kissing their children goodbye and wishing them a good day at school. A few of the children waved at Elizabeth, to which she raised a tentative hand in response.

Roy smiled. His girl was still in there; she was just a little nervous.

Crouching down to her level, Roy adjusted the straps of her pink backpack over the shoulders of her lavender dress. "It's going to be fine, Lizzie."

His words were meant to be encouraging, but Elizabeth's frown grew. Her dark eyes peered resolutely at the ground in front of her, refusing to look up into the gentle eyes of her father. Knowing that there was little he could say to comfort the girl, he ruffled her hair before standing up, about ready to take his leave.

That's when he noticed something – or someone – from the corner of his eye.

Standing on the porch of the daycare, the door wide open for the children to make their way inside, stood a young woman. It wasn't the button-down or pencil skirt that caught the Fuhrer's attention, it was the piercing gaze and hateful expression.

With eyes as red as blood and hair as white as snow, it was obvious the woman was Ishvalan.

"That's Miss Abra."

The whisper came from behind his leg, Elizabeth having angled herself to hide behind him at the sight of her teacher. With those words, Roy could feel the bile rising in his throat.

Surely, this woman wasn't taking her hatred for him out on his child.

The bell rang out to signal the start of the 'school' day. The other children began filtering in, but Roy could feel Elizabeth's grip tighten on his military blues. Ignoring the eyes he could still feel boring into him, he patted her head in encouragement, trying not to allow himself to fear the worst. Elizabeth could usually pick up on emotions, so if he acted nervous, she would feel that way as well.

One of the other little girl's in her class, came bouncing over, blonde curls flying behind her as she excitedly grabbed for Elizabeth's hand. After sharing a look with her father, she allowed the other child to pull her away and into the school building.

Once all the children were inside, the young Miss Abra glanced once more at the Fuhrer, before following suit behind her students.

'Now this…' Roy thought to himself, slowly turning away from the building to rejoin his bodyguards. The men nodded at the Fuhrer as he once more took the lead. '…could potentially be a problem.'

That thought was the one he brought up with Riza that night as they lounged in bed. While he had told his wife upon arrival at Headquarters about catching a glimpse of Elizabeth's new teacher, he hadn't mentioned her Ishvalan heritage. Once Riza knew of this tidbit of information, her worry mirrored his.

Elizabeth hadn't been upset when her mother had picked her up from school – however, she hadn't been happy either. When asked if she had gotten in trouble again, the girl responded with a quiet 'no', but Riza could tell there was something else bothering her. Given her susceptibility to other's emotions, Riza now theorized that the young girl could probably sense the disdain her teacher felt for her.

"I guess our worries from before have proven to be valid."

Roy spoke quietly, knowing the Elizabeth was asleep just down the hall. The girl hadn't fought against her bedtime, but neither parent wanted to wake her in the midst of their discussion. It was one that they had always feared would come about, but that they hoped against all hope they wouldn't have to deal with.

How foolish they were.

With their bedside lamps still on, the couple regarded each other. Roy was in a pair of sleep pants, while Riza wore one of his larger, cotton button-downs. Anyone who looked in on the scene would see a pair of normal, run-of-the-mill parents – however, that was only half the story. Normal parents would never have to discuss the treatment their child was receiving due to the sins of their past.

Normal parents weren't murderers.

Riza rubbed her belly, feeling the child within beginning to wake with her lack of movement. "We knew this day would come. I think we became complacent somewhere along the way thinking it wouldn't."

Roy turned from his back to his side, reaching a hand out to lay next to Riza's on her stomach. It had become a part of their nightly routine for him to try and coax a kick out of their baby.

"I don't know what the right answer it." Roy admitted quietly, rubbing a thumb into the fabric of his old shirt. Riza's fingertips met his own, giving him the strength to continue. "I can't blame her for the hatred she has."

"No." Riza agreed, flashing a sad smile his way. The blonde fringe that hung over her forehead, drifted into her eyes as she looked down at the sheets between them. "I can't say I blame her either – it's justified."

"But to take it out on a child…"

"Roy," Riza stopped him, her amber eyes lifting and staring into his. He could see the ancient pain behind her gaze. "We killed innocent children in a fight that was meant to be amongst adults. I don't think it's fair of us to judge."

The man knew she was right.

"So what do we do?" He finally asked, rubbing his palm over her belly. He could have sworn he felt something, but couldn't say for sure. Perhaps, the baby was already cursing their parents for bringing it into an existence like this. An existence where they could possibly be hated. "Should we pull her from the daycare?"

Riza gave him an unimpressed look. While Roy would love to have his daughter back within the walls of Central Headquarters, they had sent her to Central Children's to get her ready for Primary School next year. She needed to be exposed to a school structure and to school lessons. It was paramount for her development.

"I don't think that's the answer." Riza voiced dryly, patting the top of his hand when he pouted. "You and I both know that she needs to start schooling. The Havoc children began early and so did the Elrics. I want her to have the best opportunities possible, especially since they're available to us."

Roy understood this since he wanted the same thing. "I know, but that still doesn't answer my question."

Riza sighed, knowing he was right. "I guess we should talk with the headmaster of the daycare and let her know our position. I'm sure they could move Elizabeth into another class."

"Away from her friends?" Roy asked sadly, hating the situation they had put their daughter in. Riza's look mirrored his own.

"Yes, away from her friends. I just don't see any other options. Let's give it a week and then make the decision."

The Fuhrer could agree to these terms, not wanting to jump the gun before giving this Miss Abra a chance. It wouldn't be fair to try and ask for her forgiveness by performing acts of repentance, if he wasn't willing to give her the same opportunity in return.

As if agreeing with the two adults' decision, the baby within Riza's womb kicked weakly against the wall of their mother's stomach. Roy's eyes widened in surprise as Riza's lips grew into a soft smile. He always had that look of wonder on his face when it came to their children.

"Did the baby just…?" The last part of the question drifted off as he stared pointedly at her stomach, his dark eyes practically begging the child to do it again. However, at this stage, Riza knew the baby wasn't going to be noticeably active often. She was happy though that Roy got to feel some of the movement she had been feeling over the past few weeks.

With a hand lain over his, Riza rubbed a thumb against the rough texture of his skin. "I think the baby agrees with our reasoning."

Roy smiled down at her belly. In the dim lamplight of the room, the couple shared a gentle kiss – the beauty of bringing another life into this world hitting them once more. They had never expected to have Elizabeth and now they were getting the opportunity to have another, surely their luck would run out somewhere along the way. After all, neither of them had ever done anything to deserve such good fortune.

After turning out the lights and snuggling down in bed, Roy wrapped his arms around his wife, palms flat on her stomach, trying his hardest to get the baby to kick again.

"The doctor says everything's alright?" Riza smiled at his question, knowing good and well that she had told him exactly what the doctor had said after her visit on Monday.

"Everything is as it should be." Riza assured him, patting his hand in a comforting gesture. "Though she's still cautious given my age, the baby is growing at the same rate Elizabeth did. We aren't out of the woods completely, and won't be until their born, but the doctor seems to be rather hopeful now that we've made it to this point."

Roy smiled into the back of her neck, nuzzling his nose into her skin. When he inhaled, he could smell the mint fragrance that was used in her shampoo. It smelled like her, it smelled like home.

"Are we still good on the names?" He asked, curious if she had changed her mind. From the pat on the back of his hand though, he could tell she was still resolute on what they had picked out only a month before.

"Yes." She answered, twining her fingers with his. "I think the names are perfect."

Roy smiled before drifting off to sleep.

Whatever problems came their way; they would face them together.

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