#all of those men trying to be him (pride from fma)

[eerna]

Love your art!anyway what i wanted to ask is your opinion about most of the new romanstasy books relases,i love romance and fantasy and family drama and even drama beetwen friends give me mcs who has to do choices that arent just black and white in order to survive and are held accountable by the others caracters but also by the narative.Im tired of these "Badass fmc"who only personality is "im good with knives and ruthless and always good at everything without effort or a good backstory to explain their skill but at the same time shes soo small but can carry sword twice her heigh without training"and dont get me started with SHADOW DADDY i love the whole shadow magic concept but now it just used as an ashtetich for the Bad Boy love intrest who has no personality at all,why the love intrest always have as only personality the mc,why dont give them some idk friends and a goal and maybe A CARACTER ARC especialy because in most books the love intrest is the deutragonist wich means he should have as much depth as the mc so i can care for him(and most couples are just insta lust without any depth)

Thank youu!

My opinion is basically what you've said. I don't like romantasy at all and if I see the male lead has shadow powers, I am running full speed in the opposite direction. I'm glad that there's now finally a proper tag assigned to the genre bc I will never again be lured into another "omg I just read SUCH a good fantasy book the female lead is SO COOL" trap

[jeminy3]

Our Winter Was Warm.

Originally written for a secret santa exchange on an FMA fandom server with my friends for Christmas 2018. Specifically for Ange, a sweetheart and lovely au/headcanon-jammer in regards to anything with Roy/Hughes/Gracia. They wanted Hyuroi fluff + Gracia, and we'd talked about Hughes wanting a 2nd child named Elias with either Gracia or trans man Roy (referenced in their fic here), so this seemed the best gift for them. Not published till now because of life shit + bonus drawings I've added.

My original summary: Secret Santa gift for Ange. Merry Christmas and Happy New Year! I did the fluffiest hyuroigracia I could think of - married and having a baby on Amestrian Christmas <3 16k words and yet it still doesn't feel like enough, I could write forever about them ;_; but then I'd never finish, lol. This was very self-indulgent for me. Anyone is free to read if you are into it, I put a lot of work into it, and tried to be tasteful about the pregnancy and trans stuff, hopefully it is ok! Read the Google Doc here.

Read it on AO3 here. Features: hyuroigracia poly pile, trans man Roy being pregnant, Amestrian Christmas, baby Elias arrives, lots of headcanons, mostly fluff with bits of angst. Set in a divergent 03-ish universe where Hughes lived. 

---

Roy wakes from dreaming, startling a little.

The nightmares seem to have lessened lately - maybe, he's not sure - either way, at least he wakes somewhat gently this time, the horrors of his brain ebbing back into his subconscious to be forgotten, for now. They leave him to blink at his surroundings and realize that he is not there again - he is in bed, at home, safe and warm within his bedsheets.

His eyes adjust to the dim, warm light of morning streaming in through the window curtains, casting everything in a sort of glow - the cozy wooden furniture, the haphazard toiletries on the dresser, the white porcelain lamp on the nightstand beside him, with pink flowers painted across its surface. Roy takes it all in, and for a hazy moment, wonders how he even reached this point in his life.

A lot has happened this past year - over a year and a half now, actually. It's been a whirlwind of events since the scarred Ishvalan appeared, and the Elrics made their grisly discoveries. Since then, Roy has exposed a deep-seeded corruption with his own government, lead a quiet, deadly rebellion against it, and personally destroyed the monster at its heart - or at least, its strongest pawn.

He gave up his dream of Fuhrership in the process, becoming branded and cast out as a traitor to his country afterwards, but in the eyes of many, he was a hero - a real hero this time, not a monster with a hero's title. Despite occasional bouts of regret, he thinks this particular exchange was worth it - figuratively, and almost literally, conquering his own Pride and ambition for the greater good.

But what feels more poignant in this moment is his more intimate accomplishments.

With enough funds and string-pulling, Roy has fully buried both his past, and past identity. Within the past few years, he finally changed the last of his records to reflect his chosen name, cutting all ties to the lonely, miserable child he once was. And even more significantly, he's changed his body as well, with an expensive, secretive chest surgery that took great pains to arrange, endure, and recover from - all without drawing suspicion. But it was done, and Roy couldn't be happier with the results.

More surgeries were a possibility, of course, but for now Roy was content with himself - he's not looking to change anything internal quite yet anyway.

Not long after that, in the midst of the chaos of the unfolding conspiracy, he finally gained the courage - or just enough blind idiocy - to finally confess the depths of his love for his dearest, dearest friend. If it made him less of a man, or even a person of dignity, ultimately it didn't matter. To keep his heart closed to it, to hide it any longer, would have slowly destroyed him.

And unbelievably - his feelings were reciprocated. Wholeheartedly, genuinely, and for a period of time that Roy had been foolish to blind himself to. The love of his life loved him back, and nothing had made him happier than in those moments when they finally consummated the years of tension and affection between them, and promised to never again be apart.

And with the blessings of a mutual friend just as dear, and their renewed devotion to each other, they could all face the danger of the previous years together.

Roy eases out of his own thoughts as he listens to the quiet breathing of another body next to him - and he turns to see the aforementioned dear friend and dearest love, Maes Hughes, lying next to him in their bed.

To his mild surprise, Maes is also awake. His usually-slick hair now a messy, unkempt mop on his head, his bare, glasses-less green eyes squinting at him. It's unfair that he's still attractive like this.

"Mornin'," he says, smiling warmly.

Roy gives him one of his many incredulous smirks. "Awake too, huh? Why didn't you say anything?"

Maes shrugs, then reaches up with a hand to brush at Roy's hair with his fingers. "I like watching you wake up. You're cute."

"No I'm not," Roy growls, but there's no real bite to it, and he's trying and failing to bite back a smile at Maes' touch. "I'm smart, charming, suave, sometimes irresistible- but I am not cute."

"Wrong. You're adorable," Maes says matter-of-factly, and he leans forward  to peck him on the forehead, as if he were a precocious little child.

Roy grumbles again, frustrated both by the gentle contact and being momentarily unable to think of another retort - instead, he decides to enact his revenge by reaching up, wrapping an arm around Maes' shoulders, and gently, but assertively, pulling their mouths together for a kiss.

Maes is the one to growl a little now, and returns the gesture with affectionate lips and tongue.  He's strong and hearty beneath Roy's touch, in good health save for a few new scars across his torso, some aches and pains he'll complain about sometimes. But he's allowed to - it's not every day one faces undead, unkillable homonculi and lives to tell the tale. The same went for Roy - he has his own share of injuries, resulting in several new scars and a small limp in his step, but between the two of them things could be much worse.

Eventually they are sated with their kissing, for the moment, and the two pull away to gaze at each other warmly.

"So- how you feeling?" Maes asks.

Roy blinks at him. "About what?"

"I mean- you know, in general. Still don't feel any different?"

"Oh. Mm... I don't know," Roy murmurs, searching the ceiling with his eyes. "But I do feel a little weird in the stomach, as I think about it..."

Maes' eyebrows lift up significantly. "Oh ho- stomach, huh? I think we know what's coming, then," he says, with a maddeningly knowing tone and even more maddening smile.

Roy rolls his eyes. "Ugh- I'm really not looking forward to that."

Maes just snorts. "You signed up for it, hun."

"I know," Roy says with a deflating sigh.

"You'll be fine, darling, it's only for a few months," Maes says. "...And I promise, I'll be right there keeping the hair out of your eyes when you're barfing your guts into the toilet."

"My hero ," Roy drawls with sarcasm, snickering lightly.

Maes snorts again, then rolls forward to kiss him on the cheek. "Hey, I'm your husband now. I'm supposed to do stuff like that."

Roy smiles, but there's something wavering in his dark eyes, a bit of sadness in his tone. "Ah, Maes- if only that were true in the records..."

Maes is crestfallen for a moment, reminded that in the eyes of the Amestrian law, their recent betrothal was bare-bones at most - a loophole in the civil partnership clauses, really - and kept tightly secretive from anyone who wasn't a friend or accomplice. A proper marriage between men like themselves simply wasn't possible (yet) - much less a second marriage to give an already-taken man another partner.

But the moment passes, and Maes reaches forward and takes Roy's hands in his, considers the second ring on his finger - a brilliant silver-white band, complementing Gracia's gold one and matching Roy's own.

He intertwines their fingers, and kisses lightly at Roy's knuckles. "Someday, darling, someday. Things'll change. But even if it doesn't, as far as I'm concerned I'm yours forever, and you are mine, and I'm the luckiest man in the world to have Gracia and you both."

Roy just looks at him the whole time, looks with eyes soft with love and affection, and a smile just as warm.

- And that smile falters slightly as Maes lids his eyes and tugs his smile into another knowing smirk. "...Besides, since when did you start caring about the legality of a situation?"

Roy blinks, looking adorably bewildered as he searches the ceiling for an answer. "Er- When it involves the man I love?"

Maes' eyes crinkle, and he releases their hands to wrap an arm around Roy's shoulders and draw him in to laugh into his neck. "That's a shitty answer."

"I know," Roy says, snorting softly.

They cuddle together 'till the laughter dies down, and Maes proceeds to kiss Roy again, now along his neck and collarbones, working steadily down towards his chest. He nuzzles his face into the dip between his pectorals, presses his lips against the variety of scars there, surgical and otherwise. Roy sighs with contentment, petting at Maes' hair and squirming slightly when a ticklish area is touched.

Maes moves down further, trailing kisses until he's reached Roy's belly button, where his stomach is still flat and toned - but there's a bit more softness to it than usual, at least to Maes' senses. Which are, admittedly, fairly clouded with excitement due to recent developments.

He hums into his Roy's skin. "Mm. You feel softer already."

Roy snorts against him. "Bullshit."

Ignoring that, Maes keeps humming as he nuzzles at his stomach, his voice rising into a recognizable melody - a children's lullaby, one he often sang to Elicia when she was smaller and more frightened of the night.

Roy snorts again. "They can't hear you, you idiot- Gracia said it's barely the size of a pea by now, there's no organs yet."

"You can never start too early," Maes sing-songs, his lips tickling the skin of Roy's belly.

Roy suppresses his laughter. "Start what? Inducting them into appreciating your terrible singing voice?"

"Oh c'mon, I'm not that bad," Maes grumbles, drawing away to frown at him. "Honestly, I feel sorrier about them listening to you for the next eight months."

"Shut up," Roy laughs, and lightly shoves at Maes' shoulders to get him off him. Maes, being the larger and broader man, responds with a playful growl and a lunge, trapping Roy in a bear-hug in which he is helpless to a barrage of kisses against every part of his face.  Knowing better than anyone when he's strategically out of his depth, Roy surrenders to being nothing more than a giggling mess in Maes' arms.

Suddenly there's a shuffle of footsteps, a creak of the bedroom door, and the voice of a four-year-old girl cuts through their rough-housing.

"Daddy! Stop it! You're gonna squish the baby!" Elicia cries out, a little arm stretched precariously up to the doorknob, her other arm pointing accusingly at her father.

"And Mommy says to wake up, breakfast is almost ready!" she adds, the original intent of her interruption.

Roy and Maes stare at her - then at each other - before Maes throws back his head in laughter.

"I am not squishing your other dad, honey," Maes wheezes, "I'm keeping him nice and warm, see?" He demonstrates with a much gentler version of his previous bear-hug, enveloping Roy into his warmth. Roy himself merely smiles with bemusement, and enjoys the attention.

Elicia sticks out her tongue in disgust, at both her father's blatant affections and complete disregard for her concerns. "Then put another blanket on him! If you squish my baby sister I won't ever forgive you, Daddy!"

Maes laughs again, but relents this time, releasing Roy and sitting up from their bed. "Alright, alright, honey- I'm sorry. Tell Mommy I'll be up in a minute. Does she need any help?"

"Nope! You burn things!" Elicia exclaims, hilariously irreverent, and she turns and darts back into the hallway, haphazardly closing the door behind her.

Maes rolls his eyes - "No respect, even from my own offspring," he mutters under his breath - as he rolls himself up and out of bed, and makes his way towards the dresser to prepare for the day.

He stops midway to circle around to Roy's side and give him another quick peck on the forehead. "You heard the little lady - time to get up. We've got that thing to get to, after all."

"Of course, " Roy sighs despondently, wishing he could spend another hour or so basking in the heat of Maes' body and bedsheets instead. But the day must begin eventually, and he follows Maes' example and rolls himself in the direction of the bathroom to freshen up.

---

After a quick shower, a change of clothes, and a delicious breakfast courtesy of Gracia's fine cooking, Roy returns to the bathroom to brush his teeth and apply the rest of his usual toiletries in preparation for the outing this afternoon.

He was looking forward to it - it's a clear, sunny day of the weekend, and so, members of his and Maes' former squadrons have planned a get-together on the outskirts of Central, in a park popular for such gatherings, per Havoc's recommendation. ("It's perfect for families," he'd said. "Or at least mine - my folks n' I went there all the time.")

It's far from the first time they've held such gatherings together since he and Maes retired, and it certainly won't be the last - they're opportunities for their still-military-bound colleagues to unwind from their stresses, discreet exchanges of updates and information, and of course, quality time to spend with good friends.

Roy's mind wanders as he continues his routine - he wonders what bitter complaints Riza will no doubt bring up, seeing as she’s stuck helping navigate the massive power vacuum in Central as it’s officials scramble to appoint a new Führer  - when a strange feeling jerks him out of his thoughts suddenly.

There is an odd, twisting sensation in his belly - the "weird feeling" he'd mentioned to Maes earlier, but it was more intense now. Not incredibly so, but certainly more noticeable. Roy quietly ignores it for now, praying it won't get any worse as he continues with the gelling and smoothing of his hair and light application of face-powder.

But, of course, minutes later his stomach is slowly churning, definitely turning nauseous now, and Roy rolls his eyes toward the ceiling and sighs again. He's not sure what's more disappointing - that Maes was right after all, or that he'll be throwing up most of Gracia's wonderful meal.

Instead, Roy decides to prepare for the inevitable - he washes the gel out of his hair and powder off his face, lifts the toilet seat, and calls into the bedroom:

"Maes? Come here a moment - it looks like I'll need your hair-lifting services after all."

"I told you," Maes calls back.

"Just get in here."

---

An hour or so later, Roy has recovered from his nausea enough for their little family to be well on their way to the hangout - namely, through one of Gracia's odd variety of home remedies. This time it consisted of making Roy suck on a slice of lemon, claiming that its sour, citrus-filled scents and flavors were a natural counter to nausea. Despite his reservations (and intense dislike of said flavors), the remedy worked, and his stomach has settled (for now).

That still didn't stop him from complaining about it through most of the drive.

"-Still, of all the days for it to start ," he groans from the backseat. "I'll be spending the whole time refusing everyone's food and drinking nothing but fruit juice, I just know it."

Gracia, sitting next to him, has been comforting him with a hand rubbing his shoulder. "You should be fine, dear, it's been a while already... but if you start feeling queasy again, just stick to small things, like crackers. You know, nothing heavy on the stomach. Besides, if worse comes to worse, I brought more lemons."

Roy only groans again, rolling his eyes this time. "Everyone's already getting suspicious of me after quitting alcohol, cold turkey, without even an announcement - and now, nibbling on crackers and lemons for my stomach? I may as well wear a damn sign on my head."

Maes, in the driver's seat, glances back at them with a frown. "And what's so bad about that? You're gonna have to tell them eventually , Roy, it's been a month already. If you wait any longer, well-"

Roy cuts him off, anxiety filling his tone. "You know why I can't tell them yet, Maes, not until we know for sure- wait, what's that?"

He cuts himself off because at this point they've entered the park at Central's outskirts - a lovely, well-kept swathe of grass and trees within sight of its eastern river, dotted with tents, benches, playgrounds, and other recreational structures. But what's strange is that, in the distance, one can see a particular group of benches that's decorated with flower bouquets, bunches of balloons, and strings of ribbons, all in pastel colors of blue, pink and white. The people setting up these decorations, along with various food and drinks, are hard to make out at this distance - but they appear to be their friends and ex-coworkers, all in casual wear.

Maes makes a curious "Huh," sound at this, and makes another, more worried sound as they pull into a nearby parking space and see more clearly that the distant human figures are definitely their friends (Major Armstrong's massive frame is unmistakable at any distance).

"It's a party now? What's the occasion?" Roy asks out loud. "It's not a holiday today, is it?"

"Not that I know of," Gracia says. "The colors look like something for Children's Day... but that was a month ago, wasn't it?"

Maes glances nervously between his partners and the apparent celebration, chewing his lower lip. "Uh- yeah, yeah, pretty sure. I, uh- I dunno, hun."

In the meantime, Elicia, who had been spending most of the drive quietly busying herself with her favorite doll's hair and dresses in the passenger seat, has tossed it aside in favor of bouncing in her seat at the mention of a party. "Party! A party!" she cries, clapping her hands. "I wanna go! I wanna go! Can I go to the party please, mommydaddy?"

Maes shushes her with promises of yes, she will be going, right now in fact, as he carefully unclips her seatbelt and helps her out of the car as everyone else steps out.

As the family approaches the party area, sunlight glints off a pair of large glasses on the distant face of Kain Fuery, and when he notices them, he waves a greeting with an exuberant wave of his arm. Then he turns to the others and distantly calls, "Hey! Looks like the guests of honor finally arrived!"

The others turn to him, then to Roy and the Hughes', and break out into excited waves, hellos, and even a little applause. Fuery, meanwhile, jogs down the small slope between them to take Roy's hand in an enthusiastic handshake, giving him a beaming smile. "Ah - salutations and congratulations, sir! We're all very happy for you and the good news!" he exclaims.

Roy hardly has time to wonder at all this strangeness going on, for as soon as he opens his mouth to speak, he finds that he can hardly get a word in edgewise as his other former squad-mates approach him with the same boisterous congratulations.

Havoc (who Roy briefly realizes he might need to either put distance from, or ask him to put out his cigarettes around him for his health), runs up and claps a hand to his shoulder, all but shouting, "Mustang! You old so-and-so, I didn't think you had it in ya! Congrats, man!"

Breda flashes a cheeky grin from behind Havoc's shoulder. "Good luck with the new additions," he chuckles. "You'll need it."

Meanwhile Falman approaches from behind, somewhat cautiously, as he often is in social situations. But he seems nonetheless chipper as he claps quietly, saying, "Wonderful news, Colonel, congratulations." The addressing of Roy's military title was a habit he still had to break.

And bringing up the very rear was Riza, a bit hampered by her dog, Black Hayate, attempting to entrap her legs with his leash in his excitement. But she still offers a warm smile in his direction as she makes her way down the slope.

Maes' friends, consisting of Major Armstrong, Maria, Denny, and Sheska, also swarm him and Gracia with the same amount of bewildering praise and applause, and the same greetings of "congratulations" and "great news" (and Armstrong nearly crushing Maes' bones with one of his hugs, again).

All the while, little Elicia claps her hands in a mimic of Falman and intensifies her bouncing, singing "congratulations" right along with everyone else.

Between Roy's sputtering and Maes' breathlessness, Gracia was the one to finally get in the burning question - she spreads her hands, gestures in a shushing motion, and raises her voice in a tone not unlike one she'd have used in her days as a librarian.

"Hey- excuse me, everyone- what's all this about?"

At that, everyone quiets, their greetings devolving into confused noises and stares. For a moment, an awkward silence falls, but its quickly broken by a nervous, mousey Sheska. "Well, you know- you said you were, um- expecting again, with Mr. Mustang, sir," she says, addressing Maes. "At least, you told me over the phone that time. You seemed so excited, so I thought it was only fair to-"

"-Y-you what?!" Roy blurts out.

"Uh, yeah," Denny Brosh chimes in, "she told me when we were drinking last weekend, so of course, I told Maria-"

"-And since they knew, it seemed only fair to tell the Major," Maria continues;

Armstrong, smiling merrily through his mustache despite the confusion in his eyes, says "-And I was so moved by the blessed news, I simply had to tell your former squadron, Mustang sir. They seemed to know already, informing me of your behavior as of late;"

And Havoc, quirking his mouth around his cigarette, finishes with a shrug. "-So we decided to turn this hangout into an early baby shower for you guys to save you the trouble. I did say this place was great for families, after all."

If Roy could see himself in these moments, he'd be amused at how quickly the color drained from his face, then returned tenfold and turned his face and neck a bright scarlet color. By the time Havoc finishes his last sentence, he's covering his face with both hands and wishing he had his ignition gloves on hand in order to obliterate his own existence - but of course, that wouldn't be fair to his unborn child, so perhaps a better target would be his damnably excitable, loose-lipped husband.

He loosens his grip on his own face to better see said husband, who is now also sporting a deeply flushed complexion, scrubbing at his neck and avoiding eye contact with everyone except Roy himself - a mistake.

As soon as they lock eyes, Roy's shame boils over into an unbridled rage, and he brings down his hands, clenches them into fists, and proceeds to wave them erratically while shouting obscenities at Maes.

"Goddammit Maes, you goddamn big-mouthed idiot ! I told you not to say anything! Now everyone knows and we have all this bullshit when we don't even know if it'll even-!"

Maes spreads his hands in surrender and shrinks away from his incensed partner, spluttering, "I'm sorry, I'm sorry! Okay okay, I got excited and let it slip to Sheska, and maybe one or two others, but I swear that's all-"

Quickly, Gracia gets between them to play peacemaker, attempting to seize Roy by the shoulders and saying "Roy, stop, please, it's alright-"

Thankfully, the mood passes. As soon as she lays hands upon Roy, a pallor passes over his face, and he grows pale again - then he keels over and starts dry heaving, his nausea returning with a vengeance.

The others can only look on with equal parts worry and amusement as the Hughes family tends to their newest and oddest member(s) - Gracia supporting Roy as he wobbles on his feet, Maes offering apologetic hugs and forehead-kisses, and Elicia looking upon the whole scene with the most amusing look of confusion a four-year-old could wear.

Riza, having finally given up on making Hayate stop squirming and barking at all the excitement, rolls her eyes and sighs deeply behind Havoc and the others.

"I told you this was a bad idea," she grumbles.

---

But the party wasn't a bad idea after all - after the initial misunderstanding, Roy calmed down from his nausea and somewhat-violent mood swing, and everyone was readily understanding, considering his condition. The party was enjoyably smooth afterwards.

True to his fears, Roy did end up consuming mostly crackers and more lemon slices, broken up by the occasions he was brave (and hungry) enough to eat more. But he did avoid actually-heaving, so it was a victory overall.

Besides refreshments, their friends also brought gifts, ranging from congratulatory cards to supplies for the new family member - mostly diapers and cleaning supplies, safe options and arguably, the most useful. No clothes except for a pair of tiny, white-ribboned shoes from Armstrong - purchased from a clothier who has provided high-quality infant clothing to the Armstrong family for generations, he claimed - and as Roy held the tiny articles in his hands, he found himself fighting an onrush of tears at the idea of the tiny person who would be filling them someday soon; then proceeded to angrily deny the redness in his eyes, curse at his hormones, then at Maes for cooing over him and attempting to calm him with more hugs and kisses.

As evening approaches and the small party winds down, Roy finds himself pretty much spent on the social side of things. After making this known, his friends and partners courteously allow him some needed time alone, which he spends sitting at a bench slightly apart from the others, pecking at leftover food scraps, as his stomach's settled again.

"Roy," the voice of Riza says softly as she approaches, and he turns to her with a smile. Close friends since teenhood, he's never minded her presence even when his energies were spent, and he nods for her to sit beside him.

"I tied up Hayate by the tent poles," she says as she settles in. "Looks like Elicia finally tired him out."  She jerks her chin towards the black-and-white-furred dog flopped on the grass near the pole he was tied to.

"And likewise for her," Roy adds with a chuckle, nodding towards a bench nearby, where a content Gracia gently rocks her daughter's exhausted form in her lap.

Riza smiles warmly at the scene. "Aw- so sweet. Hard to believe that'll be you too, months from now."

Her smile takes on a mischievous slant as she turns it back on Roy, looking at him from the corners of her eyes. "Or maybe not. You seem to have that 'motherly glow' already."

Roy scoffs loudly. "Oh, don't you start too- I get enough of that crap from Maes as it is. Besides, that's a myth anyway - your skin might change color in some areas, but it doesn't glow ."

Riza doesn't laugh much, not outwardly - but you can see it in her eyes, clear as day, if you know what to look for. Which Roy does - and it always annoys him.

"Probably, yeah," she replies. "But you do seem happier."

"I am," Roy says, pursing his lips, then bothering the bottom one with his teeth for a moment. "And, honestly... kind of terrified?"

He phrases it like an unsure question to take the edge off - he isn't sure why, he should know by know that Riza can always see through his bluffs, and always has over the years. And it's been equal parts annoying and comforting, because on the one hand, nothing gets past her, but on the other, there is no one better than her to divulge one's honest insecurities. Especially ones that he hasn't admitted to any of his other friends at this party.

So Roy can only blame his own niggling demons of anxiety for trying to mask this admission at the last moment.

Familiarly, and thankfully, Riza just looks at him, nodding. "That's understandable," she says matter-of-factly.

"I mean, I'm sure it is," Roy stammers, trying to spill himself freely in her understanding presence. "It's a lot to- you know- it's just so much . Between the pregnancy and the birth, that'll be hard enough, and not just physically. And then with everything afterwards- I mean, it's a whole person , Riza-

He takes a breath in response to a pleading look in Riza's eyes, one she often uses to silently tell him, Please, sir, try to breathe.

A little more centered, he continues. "I just- I've never done this before. And... to be honest, I never thought I would . I've never really thought of myself as a parent before. I mean- let's be honest, I haven't made the best decisions with children lately..."

He runs a hand through his hair, feeling his nervous heart pounding in his chest. But Riza only nods slowly, considering him and his words.

"True enough," she says finally. "But things were different then- and those boys were an exceptional case, one that wasn't always in your control. In the end, I think they made their own decisions... I wish you wouldn't blame yourself so much for them."

Roy only sighs despondently. It's something he's heard before, from multiple people - a nice reminder, but it seemed there would always be a part of him that would blame himself for what happened to the Elric brothers (among many, many other things).

Riza meets his eyes. "Honestly, I think you'll be just fine, Roy. You've  changed. You might not have noticed it, but I have."

Roy suppresses the temptation to laugh at that, since she's being sincere. "Really. How?"

Riza cocks her head slightly, searches the surrounding grass for words. "You are... kinder," she says. "More gentle, more selfless. Which only makes sense, I suppose - in giving up your ambition, you let go of some of your selfishness, in a way."

She meets his eyes again. "But I think the fact that you even agreed to this, and decided to see it through, is what really shows who you are now. The Roy that I knew only a few years ago would never do this."

At this point Roy is flushing nearly to his neck again, staring down into his lap and trying vainly to do something with his hands. "You- You flatter me too much, Lieutenant."

He can practically hear the cheeky smile in her voice. "I only speak the truth, sir."

Roy scratches idly at his neck before finally deigning to look at her again. And she is smiling, but its less cheeky than he imagined. It's equal parts sincerity and amusement, and she brings it closer as she moves to put a hand on his shoulder.

"Even if you mess up, you have not one, but two partners by your side - loving, protective, and already experienced in child-rearing. Between the three of you, the baby will want for nothing."

And now she's all sincerity, almost beaming at him. She leans further and offers him her other arm in a rare gesture, coming from her - a hug. Which Roy welcomes, wrapping his arms around her shoulders and welcoming her warmth against his. Riza isn't the sort of person to give physical affection very often, if at all, so when she does it's for something she deeply, deeply cares about.

He has to fight back an urge to cry, again - and again blames it on his rampant hormones, damn them.

"I'm proud of you," she says softly, pulling away and meeting his eyes. "After losing so much, starting from nothing- and now, you have a family."

Roy blinks away the wetness from his eyes, wipes them with one hand. "Well, so do you- I mean, you've come far as well, Riza."

And she has - she was, like him, a fellow orphan of Amestris’ constant warring. However, she was courageous enough to forge a new name for herself and her future, distancing herself from what little family she had left when they ultimately proved to be cold and uncaring. In some ways, she is far braver than him - so Roy never minces his words about her.

She brushes at her bangs with one hand, slightly flustered. "I guess so- I'm happy too, work troubles notwithstanding. I do have my work cut out for me, after everything's that's happened."

"You have support too," Roy assures her. "And mine as well, even if I can't be there leading the charge anymore. You'll be fine - both of us will."

"Here's hoping," Riza says, smiling warmly.

---

Months pass, and the blooming Spring mellows out into a lazy Summer around Central. The flowers fade, the grass dries, and Roy no longer complains of nausea - now he gripes about his weight as he slowly grows rounder.

His fairly-toned physique from years of military training had already started smoothing out since his retirement, but the pregnancy only hastens this process - at this point, he's outgrown most of his dress pants and shirts and has surrendered himself to wearing mostly loose shirts and casual short pants. Maes and Gracia have no qualms with these new developments.

Despite his anxieties, Roy's progress is smooth, according to Gracia, their books on the subject, and the specialist he's hired for this occasion - they came with high marks after overseeing his chest surgery and successfully keeping it under wraps. And if all goes well, they'll be overseeing his delivery soon.

One morning is particularly warm, and Roy trudges into the kitchen, already tired and sweating - it is entirely the worst time of year to be hormonal and gaining weight. As he opens the fridge to search its contents, he’s tempted to stay there just to bask in its cool air for a minute longer - and to look for something cold and sweet to sate his hunger.

“If you’re looking for more cookie dough, don’t bother,” Gracia’s voice pipes up from across the room, startling him slightly. “I’m not making any more.”

Roy plays off his flinching by smoothing his hair and forcing a chuckle. “Ah- I was not doing that, actually, just cooling myself off a bit,” he says, which was partly true, so it definitely wasn’t a lie. “But, uh- no cookies today, Gracia? Why?”

Gracia, making breakfast at the kitchen stove as usual, rolls her eyes at him. “Because a certain someone nibbled at the dough so much throughout the day that when I finally baked them, at least a third of it was already gone. And even after the cookies were done, someone ate so much of them there wasn’t nearly enough to last everyone for the month. Elicia was looking forward to having dessert every night instead of, you know- only two or three.”

Roy stares, gaping dumbly at her for a moment - then snaps his mouth shut into a frown, huffing softly. “Well- that wasn’t entirely my fault. If it weren’t for the baby giving me these damn cravings-”

“You’ve had a sweet tooth for as long as I can remember, Roy, don’t blame the baby for that,” Gracia tuts at him. “You’re just using them as an excuse to give up your self-control.”

“I- Well- Ugh. Fine, I’m sorry,” Roy relents, ears burning with shame at this point. Not for the first or last time, he wonders why he insists on surrounding himself with people who had a penchant for seeing through his bullshit.

Gracia laughs brightly, finishing off the last of her cooking and turning off the stove. “Don’t apologize to me,” she says smugly, leaning against the counter with her arms crossed. “Apologize to your future self when you’re spending twelve hours in labor to deliver our child.”

Roy’s mouth drops open. “Twelve hours ?”

“That’s what happened to one of my old coworkers,” Gracia says, nodding grimly. “Too much ice cream, too small in the hips. They had to open her up to deliver her son - and no surprise, he turned in at nearly eleven pounds at birth. And his mother never did lose all the weight she gained.”

Roy swallows nervously, feeling a chill up his spine - then remembers he’s still standing in front of the open fridge. Feeling plenty cold enough, he carefully closes its doors. “That’s, uh- that’s rough.”

“Oh, that’s not even the worst of it,” Gracia chuckles, and she straightens and turns to pour herself some coffee from the pot on the stove. “I’ve heard so many horror stories, you wouldn’t believe it - bearing children is very difficult. A lot can go wrong, and badly.”

“So I’ve heard,” Roy mutters, recounting articles he’s glanced over in the newspapers, about mothers losing their lives in the effort to bear their children; babies born with terrible illnesses or deformities that claim their lives before they’ve even lived a year, or leave them crippled for a lifetime; countless tragedies that leave orphans, widowers, and other such suffering in their wake. To say he was anxious about his own child’s birth was an understatement.

He glances nervously at the small curve of his stomach as he moves to sit at the kitchen table, sighs harshly and runs a hand through his hair again.

Gracia hums sadly across the way, and after an awkward silence, she joins him at the table while setting down their plates of breakfast. Roy looks at it, but does not feel hungry anymore.

“I wish I could say it gets easier,” Gracia says, still crestfallen in her tone. “But then you have a newborn on your hands - totally helpless, completely dependent on you. Your whole schedule revolves around them, which usually means you’re alternating between sleeping or staying awake for two hours at a time. And that lasts for a year, at least.”

She smiles a little, plucking herself up. “But then they start getting a personality - it’s so fun, watching that develop. And then they’re walking and talking - of course, that’s the toddler years. You’ve seen some of that already.” She chuckles at this last part.

“I do,” Roy says tiredly, now recalling the evenings he’d spent babysitting a smaller, more hyperactive Elicia in the years before he married Maes. In his misguided, pining state, he probably thought he could win favor by looking after his daughter - and this partly worked, as it led to a closer friendship with Gracia, tearing down the awkward walls between them.

He bows his head and sighs again. “Ah, Gracey- if I didn’t know better, I'd wonder if all this was even worth it."

Gracia chuckles again. "Well, you are bringing a whole human being into the world. Then raising them as your own, giving them the best possible start towards their future- Of course there's going to be prices to pay for that sort of thing."

When he looks up, she’s twirling her fork at him, wearing a wry smile. "Didn't you Alchemists have a rule about that? ‘Equivalent exchange,’ right?"

She lowers the fork to rest her chin on her knuckles. "It's kinda like that - this is our version of Alchemy, in a way."

Roy stares at her for a long moment - then crumples into a long and loud fit of laughter.

"Ah, Gracey," he says as he comes down from it. "You're so much better than any Alchemist."

Gracia laughs too, at that - then suddenly leans over to peck him on his cheek. "So are you, dear."

The affection catches Roy off-guard, a bit, and he spends a few moments blinking dumbly. He opens and closes his mouth to retort, but when nothing comes to him, he grumbles, and busies himself with poking at his breakfast. "Hmph."

---

Roy still suffers the occasional mood swings as he progresses, which is normal, according to Gracia and the doctor.

But what isn't normal is how deeply, deeply low Roy's mood becomes at times - when his movements become sluggish, his appetite diminishes, and he no longer finds joy or laughter in much of anything. At his absolute worst, he spends one morning unable to get out of bed at all - and both his partners know this can't entirely be blamed on the pregnancy.

"Dear, please," Gracia says softly, kneeling by Roy's bedside, gently brushing his mussed hair out of his eyes. His plate of breakfast sits on the nearby nightstand, untouched. "You need to eat, now more than ever."

"I know," Roy mutters, but he doesn't move, still curled within his bedsheets with his face half-buried into his pillow. His eyes are red and tired from too little sleep and too many tears.

"At least a few bites, or a nibble," Maes murmurs at his other side, his form curled around Roy's own, hugging him from the back, his face nuzzling his husband's ear. "You need it. So does the baby."

"I know," Roy repeats, but again he makes no move to obey them.

"Darling," Maes kisses into his hair, "Please. Try."

Roy squeezes his eyes shut, and his breath hitches, but he says nothing and still doesn't move.

Gracia keeps gently stroking his cheek. "At least say something," she pleads. "Tell us what's wrong. We're here, we'll listen."

Roy's breathing becomes erratic for a few moments, as if pushing back a quiet sob. But eventually he settles and opens his eyes, seeming to get up the nerve to speak his mind.

He chokes out, "What... did I do... to deserve this?"

"Deserve what?" Maes asks.

"All of this," Roy says, voice watery. "You, and Elicia, and the baby- how..." He swallows, and clears his throat. "...How can I bring life into this world when I've brought nothing but death?"

Gracia and Maes exchange glances, understanding. Gracia less so, but she is very familiar with the look of helplessness that again crosses her husband's features, the look that Maes gives when he remembers that Roy went to Ishval and he did not, and he will always, always be sorry about it. That he couldn't be there to stand by Roy's side, to share in its horrors, its suffering, and all he could do ever afterwards was try to put him back together with kind words, soft smiles, slices of Gracia's homemade pies.

It wasn't enough - never enough - but it was something , and it helped.

So again, Maes blinks back his tears, then adjusts himself so he can wrap his arms around Roy's shoulders and take his hands in his own, gently intertwining their fingers and bringing them down to touch the small dome of Roy's belly.

"You saved my life, darling. Multiple times. That's not nothing," he says, kissing into the crook of Roy's neck. "You've saved all of us - our friends, our family, even the whole nation."

Roy squeezes his eyes closed again. "But, Edward-"

"That wasn't your fault, dear," Gracia interrupts, her hand joining Maes' and Roy's. "Whatever happened down there, that was his battle, not yours. He's strong - wherever he is, I'm sure he's doing just fine."

"Yeah," Maes agrees. "We have to believe that... He'd hate for us to worry over him anyway. You know him," he adds, forcing a chuckle.

Roy sighs, but he nestles a little within Maes' hold. "Mm. I wish I could... Believe, that is. In anything."

"...What about our child?" Maes asks, his hand at Roy's stomach rubbing gently. "You can believe in them. They'll be here soon, after all."

Roy's eyes lose focus, and he exhales again. "Ah, even then- I'm still... scared they might not."

Gracia starts, her face pinching with worry. "Dear, please, don't even think of it. You're doing so well, even more than the doctor predicted- please, don't risk it all by worrying needlessly. Don't-"

She takes a breath, bows her head slightly. "Don't be like me."

Maes makes a strained sound. "Honey-"

"It's fine." Gracia flashes a small smile in Maes' direction, then turns it toward Roy, who still stares out at nothing in particular.

"Roy," she says. "You remember before I had Elicia, don't you?"

"Mm." Roy makes a noncommittal noise. He must remember those times, but he makes no effort to make it obvious, so Gracia sighs and decides to remind him.

"We miscarried so much," she continues, exchanging soft glances with Maes. "The doctors never could find out what was wrong with me. It was awful - and neither of us breathed a word to anyone, we were so ashamed. At least, I was."

She squeezes Roy's hand in her own. "We only told you after you found me crying after dinner, that day. I thought I was broken, and worthless, and all these terrible things - and that only made it worse. I was my own self-fulfilling prophecy."

She bows her head and leans in, planting a kiss on Roy's knuckles, near his stomach. When she looks up again, his eyes are looking intently at her, soft with pain and sympathy. He does remember.

"Without you and Maes, Elicia wouldn't even be here," Gracia says. "And she'll always be my little miracle, but I can't put myself through that again. You'll never know how truly, truly grateful I am for you doing this for us, Roy. For our family."

When she meets Roy's eyes again, they're wet with tears on the verge of spilling. This time she leans over to kiss his cheek, and wipes away the wetness with her thumb.

"I'm so proud of you, darling," Maes says behind him. "All of us are. Even Elicia - she's so ready to be a big sister. It's kind of funny, actually - she acts like she'll be ten years older instead of four."

"God, she does," Gracia says, chuckling softly. "All she talks about lately is all the toys and clothes she's going to share with her 'little sister,' and all the food she's going to make for her. She keeps asking me to show her how to cook dinner now - and she can't even reach the stovetop without standing on a chair."

Maes snorts with laughter. "God, that's adorable - how is she doing by the way, cooking-wise?"

Gracia levels a knowing smirk at him. "Well, she's a step up from you, Mister Water-Burner."

"Oh, ouch- ouch . You're so cruel, honey," Maes whines, feigning hurt.

Gracia laughs harder now, shaking her head. "Cruel? I've been trying to show you how to cook for years , but when you're not making jokes out of everything, you're turning it into something not even dogs would eat. It's pretty sad when a toddler's a better student than you."

Maes laughs, hard, dropping his forehead against Roy's back until he composes himself. "Oh Gracey, you're so mean ," he drawls out. "That's it, I'm only sleeping with Roy from now on. He wouldn't make hurtful jokes about his poor husband's cooking skills. Isn't that right, darling?"

Roy doesn't appear to respond for a moment - but listening carefully, one can hear erratic breaths and a slight shifting of fabric, and his shoulders and chest tremble within the blankets and Maes' arms. But there are no tears - Roy is quietly snorting into his pillow and suppressing soft laughter.

"Hey- are you laughing ?" Maes exclaims. Roy tenses within his grip, now squeezing his eyes to suppress a grin threatening to break out on his face.

"You're laughing, aren't you. I can't believe this. Both my wife and husband, laughing at my expense," Maes says, withering into laughter. Gracia does the same, and Roy's resolve crumbles, and it isn't long before all three of them have devolved into a shared laughing fit.

The mood was lighter, and it was warmly welcomed.

And later on, after more lighthearted conversation and gentle encouragement, Roy's depression lightened to the point he could sit up and eat a slice of toast and spoonfuls of porridge without much issue. He still stayed in bed most of the day, and only ate a bit more as it went on, but by the evening his body's needs began to outweigh his lack of appetite and he ate ravenously of his dinner, and he could sleep soundly through most of the night.

He improved slowly - at least, his mood didn't often dip into such a low point after that, but when it did, Maes and Gracia were once again there to hold him and remind him how much he was loved, and loved others in turn.

...Or to make more jokes at Maes' expense. Those helped too.

---

Fall is here; the greens and yellows of Summer have faded into shades of red, gold and brown, the leaves of trees darken and cover the ground, and the air grows colder.

Roy's moods have improved, along with his health, and now his child's movements can be felt within him. At first, it was strange and exciting -  there are few words he can find to express how simultaneously incredible and incredibly weird it is to feel a tiny person moving around inside him.

By now, the novelty has worn off - Roy could swear that the child shifts only in ways to spite him, pressing up into his lungs when he's trying to eat, or down onto his bladder when he lays down for the night, and he ends up struggling against his own unwieldy body to get up and use the bathroom for the umpteenth time. Or, usually, they just kick him constantly. At this point he's welcomed Maes' attempts to sing lullabies to their unborn child to soothe them. It actually seems to work, sometimes.

Between all this, even more egregious weight issues, and his ever-rounder appearance, no one blames him for his complaining now. Maes and Gracia offer as much comfort as they can, like taking turns offering him massages every evening, especially for his sore feet.

At least one positive is that the colder weather means he can sequester himself in large, billowing sweaters and pants, offering much in comfort and hiding his un-flattering figure.

Elicia, however, delights in these developments, as it proves that the reality of her becoming a big sister is drawing ever closer. She often puts her hands to Roy's stomach to feel its movements, and keeps asking him and everyone else when the baby will arrive.

One morning, Gracia, after making some calculations, says the delivery should occur right in the middle of winter - "Right around the Winter Solstice, actually," she says, jabbing her pen at the day marked on the kitchen's calendar. "Could even be the day of-  that'll be interesting," she chuckles.

Maes scratches at his chin. "Well- shit. We'll be with your folks all week to celebrate... We really should have planned this better, hun," he says, directing this last statement at Roy.

Roy, seated at a nearby table with his chin balanced on one hand, rolls his eyes at his husband. "Don't look at me- You're the one who decided knocking me up in Spring instead of Winter was a good idea. It's usually the other way around, you know."

Maes turns several shades of scarlet at this and starts spluttering. "I- Well- Y-you agreed to it!"

"I did," Roy sighs long-sufferingly, closing his eyes and leaning back in his chair to ease his sore back a little.

Gracia giggles at the two of them. "Oh well," she says. "It's fine, really. I'd rather it happen with more people around anyway. Feels safer."

"True, but- what're we gonna do for the kid's birthdays?" Maes wonders aloud. "They're going to live the rest of their life being forgotten. I had a coworker like that, y'know- poor girl was born on Couples' Day, so people either didn't believe her, or treated all the cheap chocolates as her birthday presents. Terrible."

"Yes, the poor thing," Gracia says, shaking her head. "But I think this is different - city-folk don't really celebrate the Solstices anymore, so maybe they'll end up getting birthday presents from their city friends, and Yule presents from the family."

Maes rolls his eyes. "So they'll be spoiled rotten instead. Great."

"I don't see anything wrong with that," Roy says, grinning.

"You be quiet," Maes tuts at him. "I thought you were an orphan , you hypocrite. Don't you want our child to appreciate things?"

"Of course I do," Roy says, patting his stomach with an air of pride. "They're going to appreciate getting lots of money and free things every year."

Maes sighs, shaking his head. "Terrible. Absolutely terrible."

Gracia just laughs harder.

---

Weeks later, and it is only a few days before the Winter Solstice - or Yule Time, as some people still call it, like Gracia’s family.

Roy is due any day now - and at this point he's more or less numb to the constant dysphoria, anxiety, and dozens of other unpleasant symptoms. He is very heavy, very grumpy, and just wants his child to be born so he can finally hold them in his arms and be done with this.

The family does their best to make him comfortable in these final days - which now includes Gracia's kind-hearted parents and their siblings, as they are now rooming in their family home for the holiday.

The house isn't massive, or terribly luxurious, but true to Gracia's family, it is the very picture of coziness: old rugs and paintings adorn the walls and floors, wood and earthen furniture throughout, and large, worn sofas with plenty of throw pillows and blankets.

It’s a proper abode for generations of a country-born family staying true to its roots, constructed by a patriarch of Gracia's forefathers. This is most evident in the Yule decorations that now adorn everything - the front of the house wears wreathes of pine needles and sprigs of holly on its doorways, tied together with ribbons of red, green and gold. Within the house proper are various bells, knick-knacks and decorations on the walls and  furniture, wicker baskets filled with candies in the kitchen, and all sorts of pleasantly-scented candles throughout.

Everything is concentrated in the main parlor, where a small evergreen tree stands proudly in its corner, covered in the highest concentration of these decorations. More baubles, ribbons and bells; dolls and figurines made of fabric and clay; preserved pinecones, berries and flowers; garlands of tinsel and colored beads. And it's all topped off with a hand-worked, golden metal star at its tip, allegedly made by a grand-relative skilled in metalworking. It’s construction is somewhat rough, even at a glance, and makes the part of Roy that was still a haughty State Alchemist wonder why the family didn’t hire one to make the star with a much more efficient metal transmutation - the rest of him chastises himself for being so shallow. He is deeply privileged to now be a part of such a family, rich in its history and heirlooms.

Beneath the tree's branches and surrounding the large pot holding its trunk, is a pile of wrapped presents, glimmering with shiny colored paper and bows. It captures the fascination of child and grown-up alike - mostly the children. Some of the more excitable ones, like Elicia, need to be kept under close watch to ensure they don't open them ahead of time. Roy feels grateful that his child is not yet among them.

And yet, for Roy, this place  inspires a strange mix of both homeliness and alienation in him - the first and last time he was here was over four years ago, on the Solstice that followed Maes and Gracia's wedding.

It was a bittersweet occasion for him, marked with equal amounts of happiness and heartache because of still-buried feelings for Maes. In the presence of his friend's family, and that of his new wife, he felt like an intruder with no business being there; his attempts at socializing were  cold and aloof when he wasn't drowning his feelings with rum and hard nog. Between his awkwardness and the chaos of the past few years, he'd politely declined further invitations back here.

But things are different now. He is different - it's just as Riza said all those months ago. Roy feels more relaxed, less caged within his own defensive walls, and has been having an easier time opening up to everyone - and in turn, others open up more to him. Of course, it helps that his partnership to Maes and Gracia now makes him a more proper member of the family, but even without that difference, the overwhelmingly warm vibes here suggests they would have welcomed him just the same, even all those years ago.

(Being very heavy with child also helps - he's too exhausted to put up many walls to begin with, gets plenty of sympathy and attention from just about everyone, and can't retreat back into a bottle even if he wanted to.)

Right now, sitting with Gracia's mother and father in the parlor, wrapped in conversation, he is the very picture of comfort: wearing the loosest sweatpants and the biggest, puffiest, Yule-colored sweater Gracia could find for him, covered in large throw blankets, and sipping from a mug of warm chocolate milk in his hands.

His only source of discomfort is of course, his unborn child, who still shifts constantly - there's also an occasional, somewhat-painful pressure inside him that comes and goes, but Gracia says these 'fake' contractions are common at this stage, so he does his best to ignore it.

Sebastian, Gracia's father, leans from the sofa with his elbows on his knees, recounting tales from his past as a war journalist, when times were simpler, and war was as well. His talk of the old-fashioned photography and recording equipment they used back then would be of endless fascination to Fuery. For Roy, he appreciates the wartime experiences, and can share his own to a sympathetic ear.

Gabriella, Gracia's mother with a history as a nurse, is more concerned with baby-talk: both embarrassing stories of Gracia's early childhood, and concerns about Roy's health and that of their new step-grandchild.

“-And that’s why Amestris never tried to push its borders eastward, and thank God for that,” Sebastian is saying. “We already have our hands full with the North.”

“You can say that again,” Roy groans, recounting the almost-war with said country not long ago. It’s still a wonder that his efforts dissipated the conflict, even if it’s merely boiled down into a cold war now. “Anyway,” he continues, not wanting to dwell on the subject, “This eastern desert - what’s beyond it?”

“Eastern countries, and then the ocean, I presume,” Sebastian replies, idly scratching his beard. “They say Xing is over there too, but who knows, no one’s heard from them in decades. Probably for good reason, knowing us.”

“True,” Roy hums sadly.

“It had a name too, that desert,” Seb continues, searching the ceiling for a memory. “And a weird one - something like... Silk-sees? Serk-sees? Or was it more of a "z" sound..."

Gabriella interrupts him, one of many times already. "We get it dear, the name was weird. Say, Roy, have you all picked out a name for the baby yet?"

Roy, slightly awkward but becoming familiar with these rapid changes in subject, stutters in response. "Ah- we do, actually-"

"C'mon Gabby, what d'you take us for?" Maes cuts him off, balking. "Of course we've got names picked out. If it's a boy, Elias. If it's a girl, Eleanor. Easy."

Gabriella laughs, shaking her bobbed hair. "Easy, huh?" she teases, "Sure it's easy, when it's more "el" names. Couldn't think of anything else?"

Maes blanches at her, sputtering again. "Hey- they're nice names! It'll be cute when they match with Elicia! Gracey likes it too!"

Gracia was giggling softly. "C'mon Mom, it's Yule Time. Lay off the teasing a little, yeah?"

"Aw- But it's so easy ," Gabriella says, smirking mischievously.

Sebastian, rolling his eyes at most of the exchange, turns back to Roy. "You're the one actually having the child - did you have any names in mind, Roy?"

Roy shrugs at him, pursing his lips. "Honestly? Not really. Naming things isn't really my strong suit."

"You could've asked me," Riza suddenly pipes up, leaning above them on the sofa with her elbows on the head-cushions - she's here early on in the week to help with party preparations.

"I would have suggested some good names," she says, pouting slightly.

Roy cocks his head to look at her, giving her a stink-eye. "You named yourself after a bird of prey and your dog after a violent weather pattern. Forgive me if I don't exactly trust your particular taste in names, Lieutenant."

Riza rolls her eyes. "Fair enough."

---

Another difference this year is the absence of Maes' family members - aside from one of his nicer cousins, none of the Hughes are here. There were a few phone calls giving well-wishes and happy-new-years a few weeks ago, but other than that, it's been radio silence from them.

It's fair to assume that this was foretold by a letter they received about a month prior - one that Maes frowned down at and said, "Hm. It's from my parents."

They had not heard from his parents, or most of his relatives, since Roy and Maes announced their retirement from the military and their romantic partnership thereafter (which didn't go into detail, but the fact that Roy had permanently moved into Maes' and Gracia's home should've been enough of a tip-off).

The letter spent the majority of that day laying on the kitchen counter, untouched - only towards the evening, after Gracia had retired to put Elicia to bed, did Maes finally open it.

Roy didn't get a chance to see its contents, but did witness Maes' expression darken considerably as he read it, and heard him mutter something about "lifestyle choices" and "unsightly partners" under his breath with intense disdain.

"Maes?" he'd asked him, out of concern, but his husband only spared him a glance before briskly turning and walking back into his office. Roy followed him, cautiously- and peered into the room soon enough to see him crumpling the letter into his fist, raising it to throw it into his trash can.

"Maes," he said again, softer this time. Maes lowered his arm, and turned to look at him fully - and Roy could more clearly see how his eyes burned with something cold and bitter.

Maes let out a long, angry breath through his nose, and a beat passed. "...You're lucky, in a way," he finally said. "You lost your parents before you got to know who they really were."

"Mm," Roy hummed, starting to understand this now.

Maes turned away, sighing again. "You never had to grow up and realize that you've been living with a pair of hypocrites all your life. Talking all the time about how much they loved you, how much they cared - but when you needed a shoulder to cry on, or an ear to listen, they pushed you away, told you to suck it up. Nothing you did was ever enough for them."

He unfurled the crumpled letter, stared at it. "I did everything they expected of me - I got good grades, I joined sports teams, I even got a girl and settled down. And I worked hard - I reached Major without ever even touching an Alchemy textbook, Roy, you know how much I busted my ass for that. And you know what they said to me? When I showed them my credentials? 'Oh, that's nice, but your cousin's a lawyer and makes even more money than that. Don't you think you could do better, dear?'" He mimicked a flighty, nasally voice, probably mocking his mother.

"And now, after all this time, they send me this shit- " And Maes slammed the letter onto his desk, violently, causing a whipping sound of paper-on-wood that made Roy flinch, but the suddenness of the act was what really made him shrink away - he rarely saw Maes so angry like this.

Maes, meanwhile, seemed to snap out of whatever rage-like stupor he was in once he realized Roy was frightened - he blinked, then started toward Roy and wrapped him up in his arms.

"I'm sorry," he murmured, kissing Roy's hair. "I'm just- I'm so tired. The things they said about you..."

He took a breath, then drew away, giving Roy weak smile. "But it's fine. They're not coming to Yule with us anymore - and good riddance."

"They're not?" Roy wondered at him, recalling the very few times he'd seen Maes' family - who seemed like fairly well-off people of the upper middle-class, decent folk, if a bit stilted in their mannerisms. Maes never seemed comfortable around them, and he rarely spoke of them in all their time together - it seemed there'd been good reason for that.

"No, they aren't," Maes said, kissing at Roy's forehead again. "And you know what? I'm fucking relieved . This could actually be the best Solstice I've ever had, because for once I don't have to pretend that I'm happy around anyone."

He lowered his hands to Roy's stomach, looked at him softly. "Because I am. With both of you."

Roy had felt his eyes watering, at once heartbroken and brimming with joy for his dear husband, and he returned his affections with a long, tender kiss and embrace.

When they drew away, Maes asked him one last thing. "Roy- just do me a favor, okay?"

"Anything," Roy said.

"Keep me honest," Maes said, his expression soft, open, painfully vulnerable. "When I tell the kids I love them, make sure I mean it."

"Aw, Maes," Roy said, resting his head against Maes' chest. "Don't worry. You already do."

When Gracia heard the news later, she readily agreed with both ideas - good riddance to Hughes' family, and "Goodness' sakes, Maes, if you were any more earnest about your children, even I couldn't stand you."

---

The absence of Maes' family was not long missed - in their place are select members of Roy and Maes' former squadrons this year. They're a welcome presence in the house, and a great help with the preparations. Gracia's parents welcome them warmly - and are in agreement that Maes' family are better off gone, after hearing the news.

Some, like Armstrong, Maria, Fuery and Havoc, will only be here for several hours of Yule's Eve, planning to spend the holiday proper with their families; those without much of a family to go back to, like Riza, Breda and Falman, are here for the entire week; and those who are absent entirely are spending the extra time with loved ones who need it, which are Denny with his many younger siblings, and Sheska, who is staying with the Rockbells to offer her support.

Sheska even sent a letter in advance, and when an evening wound down and allowed time to spend on it, Maes reads it aloud to Gracia and Roy in the parlor:

A wonderful Solstice to you and your families, Mr. Hughes, Gracia, and everyone else. Special regards to Mustang and the new baby, I hope everything goes well. Miss Winry and her grandmother need all the help they can get after everything that's happened - you know, with Alphonse and that homonculus boy - I think they're all in need of a good Solstice. Rose and Paninya are here as well, and they send their regards. Miss Winry does too, and sends congratulations for the new baby to Mr. and Mrs. Hughes.

Maes frowns a little after reading the last line. "Nothing for the man actually giving us the baby," he mutters under his breath.

"Honey," Gracia whispers, catching his attention to shake her head at him. He looks at her, seated at his side on the couch, then looks to his other side, where Roy lays curled within his throw blankets against the armrest. He stares out at nothing, seeming to be in a low mood again, and Maes isn't sure if it's from the day wearing him out or his comment on the letter.

Maes lowers his eyes. "Sorry," he says.

Roy glances at him, then away, and just shrugs. "It's fine," he says distantly. "It's what I expected from her."

He's not talking about Sheska.

---

Days later, and it is finally Yule's Eve. The merriment in the household only grows as Fuery, Havoc, Maria and Armstrong arrive to partake in the festivities.

True to Roy's prediction, Fuery spends most of the evening deep in conversation with Sebastian about the technical wizardry of years past; Havoc enjoys playing Big Brother with Elicia and her little cousins; Maria aids in the last of the holiday dinner preparations, to the appreciation of Gabriella and her sisters.

Armstrong, meanwhile, does what he does best - being himself, as grand and boisterously as possible.

Early on, when his loud greetings rang out through the house and his massive frame approached Roy and Maes in the living room, a look of real, genuine terror flashed across Maes' face for a moment - and within the next moment, he'd whipped out a protective arm in front of Roy.

He said quickly, "M-Major! I would ask that you, uh- refrain from your usual form of affections, seeing Roy's current condition-"

Roy attempted to protest at the same time. "Wh- for goodness' sake Maes, I'm not made of glass -"

But both were drowned out by Armstrong's bellowing laughter. "Ah, please, no need to worry, sir! I wouldn't dream of laying hands upon your husband in such a state. I merely wished to extend my congratulations again - and a humble offer, if you do not mind."

He extended a massive hand forward, which Roy took, surprised at the man's gentleness in his grip, for once - at the same time he asks, "An offer, Major? What kind?"

Armstrong nods, and after exchanging less-gentle handshakes with Maes, replies, "In regards to your coming child, sirs - I've heard they will arrive very shortly! If you have need, the Armstrong family midwife and her assistants are eager and ready to help at a moment’s notice! They come highly recommended, believe me-"

He starts into what will no doubt be a tirade about the many good qualities of this midwife and her team, and how they assisted in bringing multiple generations of Armstrongs into existence, but Roy hurriedly gives him a polite shushing gesture and cuts him off.

"Ah- I'm sure she is, Major but uh- we have the midwife thing covered already, don't worry."

Armstrong stuttered mid-sentence, stared in confusion. "Ah- Oh. By whom, if I may ask?"

This would be answered just later that evening.

---

And sure enough, there is one last guest who has arrived fashionably late to the house - one that Roy has waited for anxiously.

When the doorbell rings and an all-too-familiar voice is heard across the living room, he lights up brighter than any flame could produce, and grunts his way to his feet to meet them at the door personally.

Shuffling in through the doorway, in a flurry of winter fur coats and bags, is a somewhat-portly woman of middle age, dark-haired and dark-eyed, well-dressed and made-up, with a beauty mark on one cheek. This woman is known to most as Madame Christmas, the owner of a once-prolific bar-and-brothel in East City; In reality, she is Chris Mustang, Roy’s aunt and foster mother.

She is the only living relative of his family, having survived either by miracle or her own wit; she took him in and raised him as her own, bringing him out of the orphanages and under her wing, in honor of her brother and sister-in-law; she and her girls gave him the ideal home and family to rediscover himself in the wake of losing of his parents; and they have taught him everything he knows about secrecy, subterfuge, and weaponizing one’s charms into a fine, precise point.

Her knowledge spans a grand swathe of subjects that most people would call “unsavory,” but among her clientele and employees, they are nothing less than essential. Among her skills is several years of experience in midwifery, and ensured that Roy’s mother had a safe, successful delivery on the day of his birth - she has, quite literally, known him for his whole life - so it is only appropriate for her to do the same for Roy and his own child all these years later.

In short, he would be nothing without her, so Roy he gives her the best hug he can muster, despite his large stomach getting in the way. But she squeezes back with just as much affection, even as she draws away with a sarcastic frown on her face as she looks upon him. Her first words to him are, "My goodness, Roy, you're huge ."

Roy snorts, then breaks down into a fit of giggles. Maes and Gracia laugh their way to the doorway to also greet Chris, along with several women that are both her fellow charges, and Roy’s adoptive sisters.

They’re equally surprised and delighted at Roy’s condition. “Oh my! You all must be so excited;” “Wow, you weren’t kidding, you look ready to pop!”; “Roy dear, you should really sit down…”

“She’s right, darling,” Chris says, agreeing with the last one. “You didn’t tell me you were this close! Goodness, didn’t I teach you any sense? Sit down, sit down, before you throw your back out…”

Roy, still laughing, lets himself be lead away and back to the sofa. “You did, Auntie, you did- It’s just- ah, it’s been too long. I missed you.”

And he means it - Chris and the girls were a constant well of support for him until recently,  as when the string of serial killings and conspiracies started up a few years ago, Roy was quick to call her up and advise her to leave the country for their safety. Chris begrudgingly obeyed, moving out westward and re-establishing herself there as best she could. Now that things are relatively settled (finally) and changing for the better, she’s recently moved back to Amestris - just in time to spend their first, proper Solstice together.

“Hmph! Then you could have called or written me more often, you sap,” Chris retorts, but there’s rarely any bite to her banter.

“Calls don’t go out to Creta,” Roy says as he settles back into the sofa. “And I wrote you as often as I could, Auntie. It was, ah- pretty crazy for a while there. I’m sorry I didn’t write more.”

“I’ll say,” Chris says, rolling her eyes. “The Cretan newspapers were having field days with it. I almost started getting worried about you - then I heard you blew up the Führer.”

Roy laughs again. “I did, I did. That was… ah, man. There’s so much to tell you, Auntie.”

Chris smiles at him - a real, genuine smile - and takes his hand, gently, something she hasn’t done in a long time.

“Well, I’m here now, darling. Tell me all about it.”

---

And talk they did, for many hours - between introductions to Gracia’s family and Roy and Maes’ squadron members, the details of the past few years’ adventures, and plenty of embarrassing stories of Roy’s childhood, there was no shortage of conversation.

Soon enough, it is near-midnight - Armstrong, Fuery, Havoc and Maria bid their farewells and left long ago, the children have been put to bed, and most of Gracia’s family have retired for the night as well. Only Roy’s little family (minus Elicia) is still awake, bleary and yawning as they curl up together on the parlor sofa, still exchanging stories.

Chris, slightly buzzed from the wine, is still deep into the ‘embarrassing stories of Roy’s past’ part of their conversations. “I always knew you’d tie the knot with Maes someday, always knew,” she’s saying, side-hugging her adopted son and admiring the silver ring on his and Maes’ fingers. “It was just a matter of time - for you to get up your nerve, of course.”

“Oh, c’mon ,” Roy whines, suppressing a yawn at the same time. “I wasn’t nearly that bad. And you know there were other reasons I was hesitant.”

“I know, darling- but it’s still funny,” Chris says, smirking.

“Was he, now?” Maes says, grinning wolfishly. “I have an idea of how long you hid it from me, but I’m dying to hear your side of it, Ms. Mustang.”

“ Maes- ” Roy starts, but Chris leaps upon the chance before he can protest it.

“Oh, it was practically star-crossed ,” she waxes. “There were sparks from the moment you first met. He’d talk about you all the time when he called me from the Academy - as in, how much he hated you.”

Roy groans, and Maes throws back his head in laughter. “Ah, man- that checks out,” Maes wheezes. “I was a pretty big asshole back then.”

“ Was ,” Roy drawls sarcastically, earning him a playful jab in the shoulder from his husband.

“Shut up, I’m better now!”

“Debatable,” Gracia murmurs sleepily from the other end of the sofa.

“Don’t you two start again-”

“You three are adorable ,” Chris laughs. “I’ll admit, I was worried when you and Gracia hooked up and poor Roy was left out- but I’m glad it’s worked out now.”

Maes’ laughter grew uncomfortable. “Ah, well, I- I didn’t know. Or I wouldn’t open myself to it, I guess. I just- didn’t think it was an option at first, you know?”

“I know, dear,” Chris says. “I’m sure your family didn’t help there. We’ve all had our run-ins with conservatives - my brother probably would have balked at the idea if he were still here, rest his soul.”

“My father,” Roy muses at the mention. “Do you think… would he have accepted me, Auntie?” He asks with genuine curiosity, only tinged with sadness at its edges. Chris frowns, and thinks, and hugs Roy more closely.

“With time, darling, with time,” she says finally. “He was still a good man. And people change, they always do.”

“Yeah, we changed,” Maes says, after pecking Roy’s cheek with affection. “We went from hating each other’s guts to this . Pretty crazy, huh?”

“Yeah, Roy hums, growing quiet as he feels another pang from a fake contraction creeping upon him - he’s been dealing with them on and off all day, but they feel more intense than earlier in the week...

“And say, I wanted to ask,” Maes continues. “If you liked me for that long, why didn’t you say anything? I mean, I’m sure Ishval had to do with it, but-”

“That is part of it,” Roy murmurs. “But- hm. It’s uh, hard to explain,” he trails off, suppressing a grunt of pain.

Chris eyes him for a moment, then takes over in his explanation. “You see, Roy was in a very… tenuous place in his life, you could say. When he started attending the Academy, he’d only recently changed his name and started his medications, as I recall.”

She exchanges glances with Roy, who nods to confirm this.

“-Oh,” Maes says. “So you were still… in-between, kind of?”

“In a sense, yes,” Chris replies. “Physically and emotionally. Very insecure, very frightened, poor thing. He’d call me many times to talk about how scared he was of anyone finding out about his ‘secret��. And we all know how the military tends to treat people who are… different .” She says the word with a disgusted sneer.

Maes hums, nodding. “Yeah, yeah… didn’t want to get too close to anyone, then.”

“That, and he couldn’t allow himself to,” Chris continues. “Opening up his heart to anyone would risk his career, maybe his life, but most of all, it would’ve betrayed everything he was building up about himself. Admitting to being in love with you, a man , would’ve made him no different than the young lady he once resembled.”

She shrugs, frowning slightly. “...That was misguided, obviously, but like I said, he was young and insecure. And, obviously, Ishval didn’t help with that.”

Maes nods slowly, frowning. “Mm. I see.”

He looks back to Roy, seeing something pained in his husband’s face, and huddles closer to wrap his arms around his shoulders and press his face into his dark hair. “But I wish I could… y’know, really understand, completely. So I can be better for you,” he murmurs softly.

Roy snuggles against him, his warmth a small balm for his pain, both from his stomach and the memories. “That’s okay,” he whispers. “Just trying helps. Just being here, for me- that helps.”

He feels another pang, more acute this time, and can’t quite suppress a groan from it. Chris sits up at his other side. “Darling, what’s wrong? Are you-”

“False alarms, Auntie, false alarms,” Roy says hurriedly, a little strained. “It’ll pass in a minute-”

“Roy, you’re due at any moment , Gracia says, now sounding more awake. “Those might not be false anymore.”

“Hey hey, easy now,” Maes says, supporting Roy against him. “I know I kept joking about the baby being the best Yule present, but I wasn’t serious- ”

“I’m fine, I’m fine,” Roy cuts in, leaning away, breathing easier since the pain was now fading. “It’s passing now, I’m okay- just like I said.”

There’s a beat of audible relief between everyone. Chris shakes her head, still frowning with concern. “Still, too close for comfort- you should really get some rest, dear. It’s late anyhow.”

“Yeah, good idea,” Maes says. “C’mon honey, let’s go to bed already.”

Roy gives a small sigh, mainly at the prospect of trying to stand up again. “Alright, alright…”

---

Maes was a light sleeper for as long as he could remember. This was useful after becoming a soldier, needing to be alert at all times on the warfront - it was not useful after he came back to city life, gained a stressful, overworking job, and was expected to still function as a normal human being. After that, he was nearly an insomniac.

He has spent many long, lonely nights alone in his own bed, with his own wife and child - he has spent countless more before he was married at all. Being married a second time, to a second partner, has not lessened this - but it has made it a little easier. Because at the very least, he can be comfortably trapped between two partners and feel safe, no matter what his paranoid brain tells him, and lying still and quiet between them for long enough can finally set him drifting into unconsciousness.

So it’s just his damn luck that on this particular night, Yule’s Eve, of all evenings, he is tired and content enough to actually fall asleep within a reasonable span of time, and sleep soundly - and then be rudely shaken awake only a few hours later by a trembling hand and distressed voice.

“Maes- Maes, Gracey, wake up. You were right, I think- ugh- I think it’s coming-”

“Ngh- Roy?” Maes drawls out sleepily. “What- What’s coming?”

“The baby , you idiot, we- ow- we need to go- ”

“Coming…?” Gracia yawns awake. “What- Oh, oh god, Roy-”

Gracia’s form jerks to an upright position at his other side, jostling Maes further, and now there is no hope of him returning to that blessed space of mind where he is genuinely sleepy - instead it is replaced with panic over the realization that Roy is in labor.

“ Shit- ” he curses, and all but leaps to his feet from their shared bed - tight quarters in an already-small guest room - and haphazardly gets himself dressed as Gracia eases Roy to his feet, taking him through the breathing exercises they’d been practicing for months in preparation for this. They ease the pain, allegedly.

Maes can’t really tell as they shuffle out into the hallway, watching Roy double over from the contractions when they come, wishing he could do something, anything - he hates feeling helpless, and didn’t enjoy this when Elicia was born.

They turn a corner towards the living room, and he nearly jumps out of his skin - coming down another hallway is Chris and a few of her girls, wearing robes and holding oil lamps.

Chris’s eyes widen at the sight of them, and she lifts her lantern to look better. “It’s happening?” she asks.

“Yes, ma’am,” Maes and Gracia say, almost in unison.

“Hmph! I knew it. C’mon then, we’ll take my car, it’s roomier.”

---

The next several hours are a blur, between the haze of pain Roy is experiencing and the panic everyone else is having. The car ride consisted of Gracia sitting by him in the back seats, breathing in time with him in their exercises, and Chris at his other side, instructing him to rock himself to and fro to ease the pressure. Maes and one of his sisters, Bridget he recalls, sat at the front of the car, struggling with maps and directions in the pitch-black of the night, toward the Central hospital where his specialized doctor would ensure a discreet delivery.

There was a lot of yelling and cursing, mostly from Maes against Central’s ‘backwards-ass street system,’ but at some point they finally arrived and Maes all but launched himself from the driver’s seat to run inside and schedule with the doctor. Soon, Roy was being lowered into a wheelchair and sped along into an operating room by a nurse, meeting with his doctor, and then entering the painful, arduous process of childbirth.

He tries not to dwell on anything - if he does, it’s on the small things. Gracia and Chris squeezing his hands as they lead him through various pain-relieving positions; Maes kissing his sweating forehead and muttering small prayers; everyone’s praise and encouragement at even the smallest amounts of progress.

In short, it’s as awful as Gracia warned him it would be, even with painkillers - but eventually, blessedly, he hears the tiny cries of the child he’s brought into existence, and when they are cleaned and brought into his waiting arms, he is told they are a healthy baby boy. As planned, he is named Elias Mustang Hughes.

Poor Elicia - she was looking forward to a sister.

---

The golden light of morning peaks over dark winter clouds, and gently streams through the plain curtains of the hospital room  - morning is here, on the Winter Solstice, and Roy’s family has welcomed the birth of their son.

There was a flurry of emotions within and without him as Roy first held his child in his arms - rampant thoughts of “oh my god I’m holding a tiny person in my arms that I made inside my body and he’s here and he’s mine ”; Maes kissing him over and over, practically sobbing with happiness; Gracia all but climbing into the bed with them to hug him, also crying; Chris nearly shoving them both aside to get a closer look at her new grand-nephew and saying, “Oh, Roy… he looks like your mother, a little.” And that got Roy’s waterworks flowing as well.

Things have calmed down by now - Gracia has taken Elias aside (making Roy begrudgingly let go of him) to feed him milk formula she’d prepared ahead of time, seeing as Roy was not equipped to do so; Maes is pacing the room and whispering curses at himself for forgetting his camera in all the rush; Chris has pulled up a chair by Roy’s bedside to tell him more stories about his parents and the days he himself was an infant.

Suddenly, there’s a knock at the door, and it creaks open - a nurse peeks in, saying “Excuse me - Hughes family? You have visitors- erm, a lot of them.”

“Oh, uh- let them in,” Maes stammers as he goes to the door, and he opens it fully.

Once again there a flurry of activity, for as soon as the door is thrown open, a small throng of people and things make their way inside the room. Gracia’s parents and aunts, Elicia and her cousins, Roy’s sisters, and Riza, Breda and Falman, all file inside with armfuls of boxes, baskets, and other containers filled to the brim with Yule decorations - the decorations from the house, Roy realizes, as they set about placing them around the hospital room in a similar manner to how they were back at the house.

Sebastian, broad and strong, even carries the entire Yule tree into the room with Breda and Falman’s assistance, setting it in the corner and piling the wrapped presents underneath it, just like it was in the parlor.

The nurses and doctors, of course, are none too happy about this; neither is Gracia, because the noise and commotion makes little Elias start crying again, and she has to place him back into Roy’s arms to calm him. Gabriella apologizes for everyone, but soon the work is done and things have settled again.

Bridget, who was nowhere to be seen during his labor, Roy realizes belatedly, turns to them and smiles triumphantly after placing the last of the decorations. “Sorry for the mess,” she says. “I called the house while you were in delivery to tell them the news, and Ms. Gabby had the best idea - since you guys would be stuck here and missing the party, we brought the party to you !”

Roy doesn’t know what to say to this; Gracia’s anger is calmed, but still thinks the whole thing’s a bit excessive (but it is something her mother would absolutely do); Maes is completely flabbergasted, mouth hanging open stupidly.

This is quickly rectified by Elicia approaching her mother and father to berate them - “You made me miss the baby! Why didn’t you wake me?!”

“I’m sorry, sweetie,” Gracia tells her, lifting her into her arms to make up for it with hugs. “But it was the middle of the night, and we were in a hurry.”

“You wouldn’t have liked it anyway,” Maes says nonchalantly. “Just a lot of screaming and crying. But look, honey- this is your baby brother, Elias.”

Elicia stares at the bundle in Roy’s arms - then pinches with disgust. “I thought it was a girl- and he’s so ugly .”

“He was just born , dear, give him a break,” Roy says tiredly, but he’s laughing too. “You looked a lot like this when you were born too, as I recall.”

“Gross!” Elicia cries, shaking her pigtails, and Maes and Gracia are laughing as well.

And the rest of that day was just as enjoyable - the other guests acquainted themselves with little Elias and extended praise and congratulations to the family; presents were given out and opened with much joy and appreciation;  food and drink was brought and shared over happy conversations; even music was brought in the form of Riza’s portable radio to smooth out the atmosphere with pleasant, quiet jazz.

The Yule gifts ran the gamut from clothes and candy to tools and appliances, some a perfect match to their recipients, others not so much, but nonetheless appreciated - after all, the most important aspect of the gift-giving was the well-wishes given alongside the physical presents. According to Sebastian, the ancient tribes of Amestris who started this tradition exchanged nothing more than small good-luck charms under their trees, for hope to survive the rest of the bitter winters.

For indeed, there is an overwhelming atmosphere of hope in this hospital room - for love, living, and a brighter future, especially after the strife of the past several years. For Roy, this is most evident in the new life he now holds in his arms.

---

Nearly a month later, the Hughes family have long since returned to their home with little Elias in tow - and as Gracia also warned, it is very tiring to care for a newborn. Especially with a somewhat-bratty four-year-old who must now deal with the reality of no longer being the sole center of attention from her parents.

But between the three of them, it’s manageable - two people to exchange shifts of sleeping and tending to the baby, a third person to tend to Elicia’s needs.

It was harder in the beginning, with Roy not only being new at this, but also very drained from the effort of delivery - luckily they received helpful visitors every few days after the Solstice, in the form of Gracia’s relatives, Chris and the girls, or members of Roy and Maes’ squadrons. For those who were absent, it also serves as their first opportunity to see little Elias and extend their congratulations (Armstrong, in his usual form, burst into tears at the sight of the child, he was so happy).

So far, only Elicia is unimpressed with her baby brother - on top of not being a girl, she complains of his small size and inability to walk, dashing her hopes of a new playmate anytime soon, and that he does nothing but sleep, eat, cry, and soil his diapers.

Again, her parents must remind her that he is mere weeks old, and she was much the same at that age. And again, she does not believe them. Ah, children.

One morning, finally feeling hale and healthy enough, Roy spends a few hours sitting outside on the porch with his coffee, watching morning traffic go by as the sun rises over Central’s skyline.

And it’s strange - he feels kind of empty, somehow, despite how full his life is. He must be slipping back into his low moods again - Gracia warned of postpartum depression as well. He tries not to dwell on it, as usual - he sips his sweetened coffee, watches the sunlight dance upon steel and wood rooftops, and wonders what sort of person his son will grow up to be.

He can’t settle on an answer - who could, with how broad the possibilities could be - but he does hope beyond all hopes, that Elias, and Elicia as well, will be better than the terrible mistakes their fathers have committed and still live with.

There is a shifting behind him suddenly, and the opening and closing of the front door - Roy turns to see Maes joining him on the porch, pulling up a deck chair beside him.

“Good mornin,” Maes says, pecking Roy’s cheek. “You’re up early. Feeling okay?”

“I’m fine,” Roy says, shrugging. “How are the kids doing?”

“Eli’s been fed, so he’s down for the count for now,” Maes says. “And Elicia’s still sleeping. Gracey’s tucking in for a nap while it’s safe, and sent me to check on you.”

“Oh,” Roy says. “Well, like I said, I’m fine, so…”

“Are you?” Maes asks, eyes searching. “I mean, I know it’s been a while, but you had a rough time of it- if anything’s bothering you, you can tell me, hun. You know I’m always here.”

Roy frowns, and attempts to deflect him again - but as usual, his husband’s pretty, pleading eyes make it hard to keep up any facade for very long.

He sighs sadly. “I don’t know- I’m still tired, I guess. And I keep thinking…”

“Of what?”

Roy pauses, thinks for a long while, bothering his lower lip with his teeth again.

“Maes,” he says finally. “What are we going to tell them? About us, and what we’ve done?”

He swallows, thick with emotion suddenly. “How- how do I tell my son about Ishval ?”

Maes’ smile fades, his mouth a thin line, and he sits back, turning away. He searches the skyline for a small eternity, eyes squinting, as if searching for the answer. But eventually, he closes his eyes and exhales, and turns back to Roy.

“We’ll tell them everything,” he says solemnly. “The good, the bad- all of it. They deserve to know. We have to be better than the old bastards at Headquarters.”

“Mm,” Roy hums sadly. He’s right. He usually is.

“And then,” Maes says, taking Roy’s hand, squeezing it. “We’ll tell them to be better than us.”

He meets his eyes at that, and Roy can see something misty behind Maes’ glasses - and feels a prickling in his own. He dips his head and leans in, letting Maes hug him by the shoulders and lean against him in kind.

They watch the rest of the sunrise together. They hope that someday, their children will see something similar - a sun rising on a better world.

END.

[writing-royza]

Tainted Blood, Tainted Soul - Chapter Twenty-two - Meetings and Greetings

A/N: Happy Sunday, everyone! So you guys are special: you get two updates this week! I’m sorry I didn’t update last week; I ran into technical issues, between a tumblr glitch and my laptop beginning to die. So please enjoy!

I do not own FMA.

Chapter Twenty-two - Meetings and Greetings

MARKETPLACE, CITY OF JADAD, ISHVAL

1743 HOURS, APRIL 23RD

They had been re-searching the buildings surrounding the square for only twenty minutes or so before things went straight to Hell.

They had begun with the the bakery, where it was difficult to tell the dust of age from the dust of long-expired flour. It hadn’t mattered too much; whatever Riza’s new abilities might be, they knew that she was still capable of leaving footprints and the dust — whatever its origin — was undisturbed.

Next had been a handcrafted jewelry shop, polished coloured stones on leather thongs, once-brilliant gemstones, and worked gold alike sitting unmolested within their glass cabinets. Roy had hesitated a moment, his eyes on a pendant necklace upon a gold chain, thinking that if this merchandise could be retrieved and brought to the newer sections of the city, it would help boost the Ishvalan economy…. But he would think about that later.

Two more buildings searched, with equal results: nothing, and more nothing, aside from mouldering furniture, dust, and general abandonment.

Scar led the way down the covered colonnade, watching the shadows that had grown ever longer while they were rummaging about inside. “Not much longer before it’s safe for her to come out,” he murmured. “We’ll have to move —”

“What do you mean ‘safe?’”

Both men froze in their tracks in front of a recessed walkway that led through to the outside of the square. Roy’s heart began hammering in his chest at the sound of that familiar voice, a sudden cold sweat breaking out on the back of his neck. Beside him, Scar tensed, big hands curling into ready fists.

Halfway down the alley, leaning back with insolent casualness against the stone half-wall to one side of a doorway, was a faintly smirking Riza Hawkeye. Purple eyes gleamed in the shadows as they fixed on Roy, her lips pulling wider into a full grin as she watched his expression change. Roy knew that his dismay at being detected and seeing her in this new state were plain on his face… but there wasn’t much he could do about that now.

Clamping down hard on the emotions swirling around in his mind, he resettled his face into its most businesslike look. The one he used for facing down Hakuro or any other senior officer. “I believe what he meant was that it would be easier for you to move around after sunset,” he said mildly. “We know you can survive in sunlight, but it’s a well-educated guess that it does have an adverse effect on you.”

Her smile had lost some of its sinister light when it became apparent that he wasn’t going to play whatever little game she had devised. “You always were clever,” she said quietly. “And you were clever enough to pick up one of my… limitations. A minor one, but one nonetheless, I grant you.” She tilted her head to one side. “But have you managed to figure out exactly what you’re dealing with?”

Roy gritted his teeth, hating having to say the word. “‘Vampire’ has been batted around quite a bit,” he said, not quite able to keep the insolence out of his tone.

Riza fairly beamed with dark pride, her pointed canine teeth much in evidence even at the distance separating them. “Oooooh, well done,” she purred, sliding a step closer but still not leaving the shadows. “You boys should be proud of yourselves, all working together like this. Pooling your knowledge until you come up with the answer.”

She spoke like a kindergarten teacher, praising a particularly precocious five-year-old. Roy could see Scar’s jaw beginning to set at the patronization, could feel the red heat of a blush creeping up the back of his own neck. Both of them stayed silent, watching her warily, waiting for her next move.

When she realized that neither of them was going to respond, she dropped her stance into one of exasperation, her eyes rolling in annoyance. “Oh, for pity’s sake…. I’m not going to dive at you and rip your throats out, so you might as well relax.” She folded her arms, shifting to stand hip-shot. “You’re obviously not willing to hurt me either, or else you would have tried, so I can only assume you’re here to talk, check on me, or both.”

“The first step was finding you,” Roy said, daring a step in her direction. Those amethyst eyes flicked to his feet and then back to his face, her relaxed posture taking on the barest hint of tension. Not nervous tension; coiled spring fight-or-flight tension. He stopped. “After that, we thought we might try and convince you to come back with us. So that we can sort this out.”

For the first time, her smile didn’t reach her eyes. Riza remained motionless, watching him levelly. “You want me to go back to the inhabited areas of the city,” she said blandly. “Me. A vampire. Who’s sole sustenance is human blood and who has a stunning anger management problem that can lead to a horrifically gruesome death for whomever crosses me.” One eyebrow quirked. “You want to put someone like that back in the middle of an unsuspecting population? I think I’d like to take back my comments on your intelligence.”

Roy gritted his teeth and tried again. “Forgive me for wanting to have faith in my assistant,” he fired back. “Or for hoping that there’s enough humanity left in you that you’d be able to control yourself.”

“Oh, I have plenty of self-control,” the vampire said, her voice a self-assured purr once again. “For instance, I’m enough in control not to bleed you both dry and leave your bodies where they drop.” She wagged a cautionary finger. “But if you put me in the middle of what would essentially be an endless buffet of living, breathing bodies…. It would be like putting chocolate in front of a toddler and telling them they can’t have it. Hardly sporting at all.”

Much as it galled him to admit it, he could see her point. Time for a change in tactics. “Then why not let us set you up someplace away from the rest of the people, somewhere with little daytime light but where we know where to find you so that we can work on getting you back to normal?”

Scorn was the only thing that crossed her face. “Typical man with a god complex,” she spat, shifting to lean back against the wall. “Not happy unless you’re trying to save someone, even when that person clearly doesn’t want or need to be saved.” She fixed him with an annoyed glare. “I’ll spell it out for you one last time, though if it doesn’t get through your thick skull, you’re out of luck.” She spoke slowly, hammering the point home. “I like myself the way I am. I do not need to be changed back. You are wasting your time, and mine.”

Her eyes hardened. “Get. Lost.”

Annoyance flared hot and red in Roy’s veins, and he opened his mouth to return verbal fire… and stopped as Scar stepped in front of him.

“She is toying with you,” he said over his shoulder, still ready to face the creature in the shadows should she come for them. “She is keeping you talking until the sun goes down and keeping you angry so that you don’t notice her plan.”

Riza huffed a sigh. “You weren’t supposed to notice. That’s five whole minutes I’ve wasted, now, trying to play the long game. I should have just lured you into the shadows and taken you out.”

“If you were able,” Scar answered evenly. Reaching to the pouch around his neck, he did not remove it, but held it toward her and took a pair of steps in her direction.

She frowned. “You’re going to try and frighten me with a coinpurse? How do you —” As he drew nearer, her nostrils twitched as she sniffed cautiously… frowned slightly… and then clamped a hand over her mouth as she gagged, bending nearly double. Scar backed off by one step, allowing her to catch her breath.

With the back of her hand held to her nose, her eyes watering from the retch, she glared at him. “What the hell kind of raw sewage is in that thing?” she bit out. “You’re either braver or stupider than I thought, to walk around with that hanging around your neck.”

“Try ‘smarter,’” Roy answered, his tone only a few shades shy of bitter; her remarks from earlier still stung. “We’ve at least proven they’ll keep you at arm’s length.”

“Ugh. Gladly.” Despite the new greenish tinge in her pale face, she shot him a grin. “Though I wouldn’t drop it around me, if I were you. It’s like gaining entry to a house: all I need is the smallest possible opening.”

Standing straight once again, she took several steps backward, fading farther into the deepening shadows. “I can see that our meeting here isn’t going to get us very far, and I have another one coming up in a few hours. If you’ll excuse me, gentlemen.”

“Wait, hang on a second.” Roy made sure she had paused before looking to Scar. “Can you give us a minute? I want to try talking to her one last time… but I need to do it on my own.” He saw the doubt in the other man’s face, but pressed on. “Two minutes, no longer. And I won’t try anything stupid.”

Red eyes glanced in Riza’s direction, then back to the Colonel… and finally, the larger man nodded agreement. “I’ll wait by the street exit. Make it quick, and keep your distance.”

“Right.” He waited as the warrior moved off, watching Riza slink slowly closer without leaving the haven of the shadowed hallway, her expression full of wary curiosity. Roy put a hand protectively on the repellent charm hanging around his neck, and she stopped.

“You said, before you left the amphitheatre last night, that all the yantir did was ‘put the good girl to sleep and bring the bad one out,’” he said, trying for the same level, businesslike tone Riza herself so often employed. “Is that true? Somewhere in you in the real Riza, just… suppressed, somehow?”

She tilted her head first one way, then the other, thinking it over. “You could say that, I suppose. Think of it as… hm, how to describe it so you can understand…. Ah!” She snapped her fingers as an idea struck. “I’ll borrow one of her memories for this. You remember how that one Xingese kid, the boy, got turned into a human-based Homonculus? With Greed’s personality and his own coexisting within the same body?”

Something cold and sharp sank slowly through Roy’s chest. “…Yes.”

“It’s like that,” she answered with an airy shrug. “We’re sharing a body, but right now, I’m in the driver’s seat. Your little yantir knocked her out of commission for a while. Once she wakes up, she’ll be able to try and fight me for control, but even if she wins, I’ll be able to fight back soon after.” A smile played across her lips. “Two kids, constantly playing King of the Castle. Or maybe, as you’ve described her, Queen of the Castle.”

Taking a steadying breath, he glanced back into the market square. The sky was still darkening slowly, but he wouldn’t consider himself in trouble until he saw stars in the sky. “You said that you don’t want to go back to the way Riza was before, but if you’re sharing that body, shouldn’t you ask her opinion? You might not want to change, but maybe she does.”

“What’s the point?” She slid a few steps closer, but stopped a few metres away, her nose wrinkling as she presumably caught a whiff from the protection charm around his neck. “It’s up to whoever is in charge of the body to make the decision. It does whatever its told to, regardless of whoever is doing the driving.” She grinned. “I could get this little lady up to a whole lot of trouble if I wanted to, then leave my other half to deal with the fallout.”

“Shame that that would involve giving up control,” Roy shot back, dread crawling into his stomach. He knew the possibility had been there, but if he could prevent her from taking advantage of it. “And we both know you’d hate to do that.”

“Depending what the trouble is, it might be worth it.” She eyed him shrewdly, clearly trying to read his expression. “You told Scar you wanted to try talking to me on your own, probably so that you could convince me to work with you rather than me going off and doing my own thing. But you’re not, you’re just… talking.” Her eyes narrowed. “Trying to build rapport, so that I trust you?”

He shook his head. “Trying to figure you out. Trying to figure out this whole situation, and what it is you want.”

“Oh, is that all?” Riza’s blonde eyebrows lifted. “You could have just asked. As of right now, I have no ‘master plan,’ and I have no urge to contemplate one. In fact, aside from that meeting I mentioned, I have no concrete plans whatsoever for the immediate future.”

Roy felt his spine stiffen, the dread in his stomach swirling sickeningly. “Meeting. You mean the one who started all of this. The killer from Central and East City.”

“Mmhmm.” Her smile was close-mouthed but no less diabolical. “My… sire, I believe the term in vampire lore is. The one who made me as I am, right under your very nose as it turns out. He’ll be here….” She paused, her gaze becoming introspective as she considered it. “Likely in another five hours.”

So, the teams back home had been right; the killer was on his way here, now that his… creation had come into her own. Suddenly, Roy needed to be far away from this spot, no matter how much time was left until sunset.

“Don’t look so shocked, Colonel,” Riza admonished lightly. “You must have known he would follow you here, if for no other reason than to keep toying with you and your Lieutenant. You’re his favourite playthings, after all.” She beamed at him. “You should stick around. He’s going to be awfully hungry after such a long trip….”

Almost automatically, as if in a dream, he reached up to the protection charm and yanked sharply on it. The knot at the back came undone, the little parcel coming away in his hand. Before he could second-guess the action, he lunged forward, tackling the thing in his Lieutenant’s body to the ground and pressing the charm directly into the centre of her chest.

The fall knocked part of the wind from her lungs, and when she drew a gasping breath, she immediately gagged at the closeness of the charm. Roy gritted his teeth, keeping it pressed firm to her, all too aware of the closeness of that familiar body as she squirmed and bucked, trying to escape. He kept one hand clenched in the shoulder of her dress, willing the fabric not to tear, desperately hoping that this impromptu plan would have the effect he was gambling on….

When she went limp beneath him, her head lolling to the side, a spike of fear shot through him that it had all gone horribly wrong.

“Riza. Riza, come on….” He let go of her dress, shifting his hand to tap her gently on the cheek, dropping the charm to feel at her neck for a pulse. It was there, rapid and thrumming like a rabbit’s after the struggle, her breathing coming and going through her nose in short puffs.

His stomach clenching in worry, Roy took a deep breath and forced his tone into one of command. “First Lieutenant Hawkeye, you’re required on duty. Hop to it.”

Her eyes flashed open with only the merest flicker of re-closing… and moments later, that warm brown gaze found him.

“…Roy?”

He said nothing, merely pulled her to him as he sat up, holding her close against his chest. After a second of stunned silence, she returned the embrace, although with a hesitancy that belied her confusion. When he could finally force his arms to loosen, he leaned back, studying her face. “Are you all right?”

“I think so.” There was a haziness to her eyes that he didn’t like, but other than that, she was very much herself. “Whatever you did, it worked, but I doubt it will hold for long.” Her lips set into a thin line. “She’s not much stronger than I am, but she’s determined enough to keep control that it gives her an edge.”

“Okay.” He touched a hand to her cheek, feeling the warmth of life beginning to seep back into her the longer she was in control. “What do you remember? She said you were asleep.”

“‘Asleep’ is more like an analogy,” she said, talking quickly in case her alter ego began to assert herself. She looked carefully about as she spoke, taking in her surroundings. “It’s more that… I become the subconscious while she has control of the conscious mind. I still hear and see everything happening, but I have no say in what happens, what’s said, where I go….”

Roy frowned. “So then, if —”

Riza shuddered, shook her head roughly as though to clear it, and then looked him firmly in the eyes. “Roy, don’t talk, just listen. She’s already trying to take over again.” Her hand grasped his upper arm, imparting seriousness. “The killer is coming here, which means the entire populated part of the city is a target. They’re the only food supply for miles.” She shuddered again, her breath hitching. “They all need some kind of protection, either that pouch thing you just used, some kind of religious icon, or staying in a hol —”

Her entire body twitched violently to the left, knocking her free from his arms. She recovered, but slid away another foot or so. “- A holy place like the temple.” Her mouth tugged in a faint smile. “I’m sorry to give you orders, sir, I know it’s not exactly appropriate.”

His return grin was as weak as hers. “We’ll discuss your punishment for insubordination later.” Ignoring the risk from the returning vampire persona, he leaned forward and pressed a warm, deep kiss to rapidly cooling lips. There was a soft sound from the back of her throat that might have been the start of a moan, but she held it back. “Hope to see you soon, Whiskygirl,” he murmured, easing back to a safer distance and trying not to let the ache in his chest colour his words. “Stay strong.”

Another strong twitch rocked her, but there was one last smile that was pure, unadulterated Riza Hawkeye. “Even into Hell,” she murmured knowingly. Her eyes closed, and she sank back to lie prone on the sand-swept street.

Silence followed, except for a soft shuffling as Roy eased backward another few feet. Blindly, his hand groped for and found the charm pouch, his eyes watching the slow — too slow — rise and fall of Riza’s chest. Finally, she gave a soft sigh.

“Would you look at that,” she said, matter-of-factly. “I think the sun’s just about down.”

His head snapped back, eyes widening at the sight of the purpling sky overhead. Already, two bright points of light winked in the lowering twilight; night fell faster in the desert than he realized.

When he looked back to her, she was raised on her elbows, watching him with a mischievous smile dancing in those amethyst eyes. She lay perfectly still, watching him without fear or fondness. Her lips parting, the tip of her tongue running across the edges and points of her teeth in a surprisingly good approximation of a wolf eyeing prey.

“Better start running, fire boy,” she advised, her voice low with a casual kind of menace. “You don’t want to be caught all alone out here. Don’t you know monsters come out at night?”

Roy was no coward, but he knew when he was up against something terrifying that he had no hope of beating on his own. Rising smoothly to his feet, he slipped cautiously away from the entrance to the hallway, not turning his back to her. To turn away was to invite attack.

When he was out of her line of sight, he bolted for the side street where Scar waited. The other man saw him coming, perking to an alert posture when he saw the speed Roy was moving at… and asked no questions. No sooner had Roy drawn level with him than Scar was running too, both of them pelting back down the street toward the distant, relative safety of the inhabited areas of the city.

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

Riza waited until she heard the pair of rapid footfalls echoing off the buildings receding into the distance before she got to her feet. Somewhere in her mind, in the aftermath of the brief switch, she could feel something that felt like an impossibly tiny person pounding on the walls of an equally tiny cell, demanding release… but she ignored it. There were other, more pressing matters to attend to.

First on her list, she wanted out of this dress. The Ishvalan people mind be more comfortable showing as little skin as possible by covering it with the blandest colour in the world — honestly, whoever came up with ‘biege’ ought to have been shot on principle of fashion — but it was not for her. She craved colour, style, and something softer on the skin than homespun cotton.

She padded barefoot down the side street that the Colonel and that hulking Ishvalan had taken, the dust from their passage still settling around her. She was in no hurry, not yet; there was still time before her sire reached the northern city limits, and then she would meet him somewhere closer to the centre.

She breathed deeply, with her slow rate, of the cooling night air. Warmth lingered in the sand and stones, warming her toes as she passed, but her body did not hold to it. Her lowered respiration and pulse saw to it that her skin stayed cool to the touch, her extremities especially. Riza smiled, tilting her face to the darkening sky and letting the breeze play across her features; the night was falling all around her, bringing a peace to her after the hated brightness of the day.

Her path took her long the same street as Roy and Scar, and the rest of the search party before them. It was perhaps a forty-minute easy stroll back to the occupied section of the city, but she did not intend to follow them so far. With ten minutes to go until civilization, she turned down an alleyway and vanished into the shadows.

Taking to the rooftops was a simple matter for her, an easy climb with her increased strength and senses. She emerged into starlight with all the coiling strength and grace of a lioness on familiar turf.

The quieter residential streets lay on the outermost edges of the inhabited section, and these she passed through silently and unnoticed, until she reached a wider boulevard alive with the sounds, sights, and smells of humans.

Light and sound poured out from the streets ahead, lanterns lining the sidewalks and people talking and laughing as they went about their lives. Late-night vendors called to passersby, offering goods and food for trade or barter. Those were really the only two commerce systems in use at the moment; cash was hard to come by in a people just beginning to recover after nearly a decade of oppression.

Such trusting fools, she thought, dropping low to the rooftops as she approached the edge of the lighted area. Several prominent members of their leadership know there is danger in the darkness, and yet there’s no rooftop sentries, no one on patrol on the perimeter…. Careless, naïve fools….

Riza belly-crawled to the edge of the first rooftop, only her eyes peeping over at the array of shops below. Delicious smells of cooking meat and baking bread wafted on the air, along with the smoke from cookfires and hearths. The rhythmic ting! ting! ting! of metal being worked sounded from farther along the avenue, laughter from a newly opened alehouse rising into the air from open windows.

She followed the sounds of bartering cries from her right, keeping close to the edge, but only peering over at odd intervals, looking for the distinct signs of what she sought… there. Working her way to the roof of her desired shop, she crept to the back and dropped into the shadowed, deserted alleyway behind.

There was no lock on the door she was faced with, making slipping inside the candlelit interior an easy task. Swaths of fabric draped every whichway so as to be visible to passersby hid her from the shopkeeper as well as any customers as she entered the tiny space. It was more akin to a stall than a true shop, but it held what she was looking for.

Bolts of cloth lines the walls in a riot of colour, different textures and patterns colliding over every surface. Men’s, women’s, and children’s clothing hung on tall stands or from horizontally braced poles across the width of the interior. The voice of an older woman came from the front, speaking rapidly in Ishvalan to one customer or another, no doubt extolling the virtues of her product.

Riza didn’t waste time, simply locating the style she wanted in a colour she liked before stealthily slipping the item from its hanger and disappearing through the back door once again. The garment, she draped around her neck like an athlete’s towel for the time being, needing her hands free and her progress unencumbered.

She gained the rooftops once again, dodging from one to the next and onward, back to where the city lay dark and silent in its abandonment. All the while, her teeth glinted in the starlight in a prideful grin at her accomplishment.

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

ABANDONED SECTION, CITY OF JADAD, ISHVAL

0142 HOURS, APRIL 24TH

She was waiting on the inn’s rooftop terrace when her visitor finally arrived.

He skulked into the market square, his dark suit blending at times with the shadows while at other times, his pale skin was indistinguishable from the light-coloured stone walls. Riza made no move to call to him or otherwise make herself known… but he paused near the well and lifted his head. At this distance, she could not make out his features, but she knew his eyes were on her, perched as she was on the half-wall at the terrace’s edge.

Silently, he started for the inn’s ground floor, and Riza felt a peculiar sensation near her solar plexus. Nervousness, she determined, watching as he began to scale the building. This man had attacked her before, had pursued her from one city to the next, had made her the way she was… and she still knew next to nothing about him.

And when he finally climbed gracefully onto the roof, his face clear to her for the first time, she wished she had remained oblivious.

Reaching up, briefly lifting the fedora hat that looked so ridiculous in this desert environment, former Major Solf J. Kimblee favoured her with a smile. “Lovely to see you again, Lieutenant.”

She was on him in another instant, tackling him to the cracked paving stones of the terrace floor, the two of them somersaulting over and over in the dust until she finally pinned him. Purple eyes were alight with fury, her hand clamped tightly around his throat as she sat astride his chest, her legs pinning his arms to his sides. “You have some nerve,” she spat, pointed teeth evident as she glared at this old, hated enemy. “I don’t know how you survived the Promised Day, but I have half a mind to finish what Pride obviously failed to.”

In contrast, he was completely calm, lying relaxed beneath her with no evident intention to fight back. “Well, when one loses the ability to have a mortal human life, nerve is about all one has left.” He smiled indulgently, the words beginning to rasp as her fingers tightened slightly. “And giving you answers is one of my primary reasons for coming, so if you would be so kind as to—”

“‘Kind?’” she echoed, not quite derisively. “As though you were ever kind to anyone a day in your life.”

His form shivered and then stretched into a long string, snaking away from her and out of her reach, depositing her in a kneeling position on the flagstones. Kimblee reassembled himself partway across the terrace, dusting himself off fastidiously as his body finished coalescing. “Really, Lieutenant, flying off the handle that way is only going to slow our progress this evening. Try to control yourself.”

She got to her feet, eyes wary on him and stance ready to dodge at a second’s notice. “You mentioned answers,” she said flatly.

“Indeed, I did.” He glanced her way, his eyes straying over the dress she had stolen to replace the plainer everyday Ishvalan garment. “…Did you dress yourself up for me? Perhaps you’re more welcoming of me than you care to admit.”

If anger had not already left her cheeks tinged with red, the blush would have been much more noticeable. Suddenly, the snowy white abaya was much less of a good idea. Riza folded her arms over the soft linen, feeling the tiny bumps and ridges of the intricate emerald-green beadwork through the fabric. It was belted at her waist with a matching green sash, covered her arms and fell to her ankles, and yet with his eyes on her, she felt strangely exposed.

“Answers,” she reminded him firmly.

“Very well,” he said, almost resignedly. Walking to the edge, he leaned back against the half-wall, his arms folded. “I can see we’re not going to get anywhere until your curiosity is sated. I trust you’ve figured out what you are? What I’ve made you?” Her only answer was a curt nod. “Good.

“You were apparently told — likely by that chimera traitor, Heinkel — what happened to me on the Promised Day. First, my former employee mauled me until near-death, and then Pride had the unmitigated gall to eat me.” He smiled faintly. “I certainly taught the brat a lesson, though. I managed to retain my own personal soul using him as a vessel, until Edward Elric stripped away all that was ‘Pride,’ and left only ‘Selim.’”

Riza moved no closer, but she did relax her tense posture when it was apparent by his own that he would not be attacking anytime soon. “Yes, I’ve been told before of a human-based Homonculus retaining their original soul while their body plays host. I didn’t realize it could work in reverse.” She eyed him coolly. “Though I would have thought that, when Pride’s power was taken from him, you would have been destroyed along with it, having no body left.”

Kimblee shrugged modestly, the faint smile still tugging at his lips. “When the Elric boy invaded Pride’s soul, I thought the same thing. I was ready to disappear into the void; being part of a body as nothing but an unattached and unassimilated soul was growing boring…. So imagine my surprise when, in the late evening of the Promised Day, I find myself regaining consciousness, stark naked in the underground lair Father had built for himself.”

Her eyes narrowed. “How?”

Spreading his hands theatrically, he grinned. “Magic, my dear.” He waited, but silence and her stony gaze were the only things that greeted this pronouncement. He let his hands drop back into his lap. “You have no sense of humour. In reality, Homonculi are rather resilient beings, especially that Gluttony one. I’m sure you know that personally.

“When Gluttony was eaten by Pride, his soul molded mostly into that of Pride… but by the time Pride was destroyed, he still wasn’t fully amalgamated. His Philosopher’s Stone was not entirely amalgamated or used up either.” His smile grew to a proud one. “When I realized what Edward Elric meant to do, as I said, I was ready to disappear into the void… if what I attempted failed. I took Gluttony’s soul, what remained of his Stone, and what remained of myself… and I molded them together. Gluttony’s Stone served to manifest a new body; it remembered how, having only been grown from Father shortly before. My soul inhabits it, although the side effects have been… noticeable.”

Realization was beginning to dawn on her, things clicking into place. “The hunger,” she said. “That’s where it comes from. It comes from Gluttony’s influence.”

Kimblee nodded. “Along with other… appetites I know you’ve noticed.” He did not acknowledge the hot points of red that bloomed in her cheeks at the comment. “There must have also been some last vestiges of Pride’s soul trailing me when I reformed myself, hence the ability to elongate and reform at will. And the arrogance, of course, though I consider that particular side effect to be mild.

“Any other little quirks can, I’m sure, be chalked up to the vagaries of alchemy that still aren’t perfectly understood.” He got to his feet, bringing her abruptly back onto the alert. Drawing closer, his own pointed teeth showing in a leering smile. “Of course, now the main question is… can two old soldiers who never really got along learn to live with each other in the face of a new, unprecedented occurrence?”

She glared daggers, even though she knew he would be unaffected by such a look. “Give me one good reason why I should have to work with you.”

“It’s very simple.” Quick as she was, she did not react soon enough to dodge the hand that grasped her chin, forcing her to keep eye contact with him. He drew close enough that she could feel the warmth of his breath on her nose and lips, his eyes steady on hers in a way that signalled power and mastery.

“I did you the honour of making you into what you are. You owe me.”

[animestoreonline-blog]

20+ Most Badass Quotes from Anime & Manga

20+ Most Badass Quotes from Anime & Manga

Attack on Titan Badass Quote

Background: The wall which protects man-eating titans from people have been breached and everyone in the city needs to evacuate to the inner walls in order to be saved. One of the exits is blocked by a huge cargo belonging to an influential middle aged guy (let’s call him “the rich guy”), making the crowd impossible get past. The rich guy has bodyguards and is bullying around the common people to help him push the cargo as “this cargo is worth more than you could ever make in your whole pathetic lives”.

The crowd asks the soldiers to arrest the rich guy, but they are too scared as the rich guy knows their boss. They didn’t want to get into any trouble. As all this commotion is going on, a titan appears in the corner and everyone is scared sheetless, there is utter chaos and people start pushing the cargo to escape getting eaten.

Mikasa, one of the soldiers, comes to the rescue and kills the titan in one quick moment.

Mikasa (noticing that people haven’t evacuated yet): “What do you think you’re doing?”

The rich guy: “Good timing! You! Make them help me out! I’ll reward you handsomely!”

Mikasa(shocked and disgusted) : “My comrades are dying as we speak. The noncombatants haven’t evacuated yet, so they’re fighting the titans and dying.”

The rich guy: “That’s only natural! It’s your duty to offer up your hearts to protect us civilians and our wealth! Dont get all high and might just because you parasites have finally emerged from 100 years of uselessness!”

-Badass mode on-

Mikasa: “If you think its only natural that people die for others, then I’m sure you’ll understand. Sometimes, sacrificing one precious life can save many others”

The rich guy: “Just you try it. I’ve known your boss for a long time. You’re just a grunt. I can tell him to end you!”

Mikasa: “But how is a corpse going to tell him anything?”

The rich guy (stammering): “P-pull out the cargo…”

Nnoitra (Espada) Bleach Badass Quote

“So you’re one of those. The kind of hero who thinks if your girl’s safe you actually have a shot at taking me down? Well I have news for you.” – Nnoitra (Espada #5)

This is said in response to Ichigo saying “let Orihime go”.

It’s one of the best quotes from a villain especially.

Donquixote Doflamingo Badass Quote (One Piece)

“Pirates are evil? The Marines are righteous? These terms have always changed throughout the course of history! Kids who have never seen peace and kids who have never seen war have different values! Those who stand at the top determine what’s wrong and what’s right! This very place is neutral ground! Justice will prevail, you say? But of course it will! Whoever wins this war becomes justice!”

It’s quite a deep sentiment for a shonen manga.

One Outs Badass Quote

“Winning is about making your opponents lose, making them taste defeat, crushing a fallen opponent, kicking them when they’re down, rubbing salt into a gaping wound. Winning is about trampling over corpses. It’s not beautiful, it’s BRUTAL“

Vegeta’s Pride Badass Quote

Vegeta: You can take control of my mind and my body, but there is one thing a Saiyan always keep… his PRIDE!

DBZ: Goku & Vegeta Badass Quotes

Omega Shenron: Where are the other two? Gogeta: The Saiyans? They’re here. I am they. We are one. Unfortunately for you Omega.

For me the most badass quote from an anime would be from,

Fairy Tail’s Badass Quotes

“Though our paths may have diverged, you must continue to live out your life with all your might, you must never consider your own life to be something insignificant, and you must never forget about your friends for as long as you live”

Whenever a Mage wishes to leave Fairy Tail

Hitotsu: You must never reveal sensitive information about Fairy Tail to others for as long as you live.

Futatsu: You must never use former contacts met through your being in the guild for personal gain.

Mittsu: Though our paths may have diverged, you must continue to live out your life with all your might, you must never consider your own life to be something insignificant, and you must never forget about your friends for as long as you live

Still gives me goosebumps whenever I hear it. You will feel different emotions of every character who spoke of it as it really comes from the heart.

That’s all folks, I hope you liked it. ^^

Source: Google.

Bleach: Aizen Badass Quote

Aizen Souske to Hirako Shinji (Bleach) “All living creatures place their faith in someone more powerful than them and they cannot survive unless they blindly follow that person. The recipient of that faith then seeks out someone in an even higher position in order to escape from the pressure. That person then seeks out someone even more powerful that he must put his faith in. In this way all kings are born and in this way all Gods are born. Do not believe in me yet, Hirako Shinji for now I shall slowly teach you who the God is that you will put your faith in. Believing in me comes after that.”

Nanatsu No Taizai Badass Quote

When it comes to being a badass no one can come close to quotes made by Escanor from Nanatsu No Taizai:

To the Vampire King( actual introduction of escanor before galan fight): “In this realm, Kings such as you are as numerous as grains of sand.. but I am no such thing. I am an existence unlike any other in this world.”

To Estarossa : “My mighty attacks can not reach thee? Who decided that ? My Sun was swallowed by the speck of your darkness .. and who decided that ? … The only one who gets to decide such things is me……..be gone..”

To Ban = “Acting calm and composed is the privilege of the mighty”

And the list can go on and on. Any word coming from the Sin of Pride is the very definition of badass.

One piece: Roronoa Zoro Badass Quote

How has this not written yet??

This from the future greatest swordsman Zoro in the one piece world, one of the many who have eaten the badass badass no mi

To monet at punk hazard

Z: You talked so big but you’re taking so much time , now I have to leave

M: what is going on ? I thought he won’t cut women

Z: You should have ran the moment you thought you couldn’t beat me , of course there are things that even I don’t want to cut

* insert the demonic smile*

But have you ever seen a wild ferocious beast that you were sure wouldn’t bite , because I …… haven’t

While an amazing ost goes on in the background

Rurouni Kenskin Badass Quote

There are plenty of badass anime quotes out there, but these two are my personal favorites:

The strong shall live, the weak shall perish.

– Shishio Makoto (Rurouni Kenshin)

If you want death, come forward.

– Kenshin Himura (Rurouni Kenshin)

Full Metal Alchemist Badass Quotes

I love this one by Edward Elric from FMA:

“You’ll have to decide for yourself. Walk on your own. Move forward. You’ve got a strong pair of legs, Rose. You should get up and use them.”

Hachiman Badass Quotes

Its not as badass… But the depth will kill you…

“I  hate nice girls. Just exchanging greetings with them will get them on  your mind. Start texting each other, and your heart will be set a  flutter. If they call you, you’re done for. Enjoy staring at your logs  and grinning like a fool. However, I won’t get fooled again. That’s what  your kind calls kindness. If you’re nice to me, you’re nice to others. I  always end up nearly forgetting that. Reality is cruel, so I’m sure  lies are a form of kindness. Thus, I say kindness itself is also a lie. I  always ended up with these expectations. And I always ended up with  these misunderstandings. And before I knew it, I stopped hoping. A  highly trained loner is once bitten, twice shy. As a veteran on this  battlefield of life, I’ve gotten used to losing. That’s why I always  hate nice girls.”

-Hachiman (Yahari Ore No Seishun Love Come Wa Machigatteiru)

Code Geass Badass Quote

There are quite a few badass quote. And most of them is from Code Geass. The one I will listing down below are from Code Geass only.

“If the king does not lead, how can he expect his subordinates to follow?“

“You can’t change the world without getting your hands dirty.”

“Before creation there must be destruction. If my soul stands in the way, then I’ll toss it aside. Yes, I have no choice but to move forward.“

And the ultimate on: Yes, from this day, from this moment on, the world belongs to me. Lelouch vi Britannia commands you, obey me, subject! Obey me, world!”

Lelouch vi Britannia _/\_ Most badass character in Anime.

Naruto Badass Quotes

This one is from Naruto.. a famous one by PAIN ..

  “You have your justice, and I have mine. We are both ordinary men driven to seek vengeance under the banner of justice. However, if there is justice in vengeance, then justice will only breed more vengeance. And trigger a cycle of hatred”

That Obito in guise of Uchiha Madara made this soliloquy while fighting i forgot with whom is absolutely a badass one. His audacity and boldness made me shiver when i came across this page in naruto shippuuden manga.

“I’m not going there to die. I’m going there to find out if I’m really alive.”

– Spike Spiegel (Cowboy bebop) *This one really hit me hard*

“Slice up those cow tits of yours and make me a sandwich!”

– Beatrice (Umineko no naku koro ni)

Black Lagoon Badass Quote

“I’m the best there is at what I do. What I do best isn’t very nice.”

– Balalaika (Black lagoon)

“Sorry. It is difficult to remember those who came to power through money rather than skill. Better write your name on a dollar bill so I don’t forget it.”

– Balalaika (Black lagoon)

Umineko no naku koro ni Badass Quote

“Humans are pitiful beings, walking forward their backs to the future gazing at the past. This is why they fail to notice the simplest pitfalls and stumble tragically and comically.”

– Bernkastel (Umineko no naku koro ni)

“The only difference between a hero and a madman is whether they win or lose.”

– Lambdadelta (Umineko no naku koro ni)

“When a person lies, what is important is not the lie itself. No, it is their reason. Their why.”

– Holo (Spice and wolf)

Psycho Pass Badass Quote

“If the being casting judgement is perfect, then it has to judge itself as well.”

– Saiga Jouji (Psycho pass)

“When a man faces fear, his soul is tested. What he was born to seek; what he was born to achieve…his true nature will become clear.”

– Shogo Makishima (Psycho pass)

“It’s not the final judgement of ‘good’ and ‘evil’ that’s important. What matters is that you come to that decision yourself. That you agonize over it and eventually accept it.”

– Akane Tsunemori (Psycho pass)

“If I like it, it’s Yuri.”

– Me, in a manga drawn by Morishima Akiko for Yuri Hime magazine in 2007.

***

By saying this in a Japanese manga, I established myself as an arbiter of an entire genre in two countries. (Yes, I really said that. I was joking, but I did say that.)

Code Geass Badass Quote

This one is from Code Geass:

I am Zero, the one who will crush the world…and the one who will recreate the world anew!

Azien Sosuke from Bleach – Badass Quote

Since The Beginning, no one has ever stood in the heavens, neither you, nor I, not even God himself, but that emptiness in the throne of heaven will be filled from this day forth, i will be the one to stand in the heavens. Aizen Sosuke (Bleach)

Itachi Uchiha – Badass Quote

“People live their lives bound by what they accept as correct and true. That’s how they define “reality”. But what does it mean to be “correct” or “true”? Merely vague concepts… their “reality” may all be a mirage. Can we consider them to simply be living in their own world, shaped by their beliefs?”“

Bakemonogatari -Badass Quote

“The fake is of far greater value. In its deliberate attempt to be real, it’s more real than the real thing.”

Kaiki Deishuu, possibly my most favorite anime character ever.

Nothing philosophical, nothing pretty, nothing superfluous. Just badass Kenshiro talking badass.

Bleach Badass Quote

This is one of my favourites by Kyoraku in Bleach:

“Once a war breaks out, both sides are evil”A cool picture from the manga:

Hellsing Badass Quote

“Now then, let’s go and die like mangy dogs. Let’s die while yelling “Fuck, Fuck!” as we take gut shots. As we writhe in agony.” – Pip Bernadotte, leader of mercenary group ‘Wild Geese’, from anime; HellsingHere’s another one; by the same guy “Face it, this room will be our tomb; the mansion our gravestone; and our gravekeeper will be that cast-iron bitch Integra. And our epitaph? “Here lies the fearsome Wild Geese who kicked beaucoup Nazi ass for queen and crumpets.” But they won’t write any of that. Because of you it’ll say: “Here lies those gutless pussies that died pissing themselves and screaming like schoolgirls.”

Anime Badass, AnimeBadass.com

Shanks from One Piece Badass Quote

Listen up,

You can pour drinks on me,

You can throw food at me…

You can even spit on me.

I’ll just laught that stuff off.

But..

Good reason or not..

Nobody hurts a friend of mine!

– Shanks from One Piece

AnimeBadass.com

Mewtwo. The Real legendary Badass Quote

Also, he probably inspired Bale (as Batman).

“When one person is cursed, two graves are dug” – From Jigoku Shoujo (Hell Girl)

One Piece is full of of Badass Quotes

Destiny… fate… dreams… These unstoppable ideals are held deep in the heart of man. As long as there are people who seek freedom in this life, these things will not vanish from the earth. “King of the Pirates” Gold Rog

Shanks: Now that you’ve drawn your pistol, are you willing to use it? Pistols aren’t for threats they’re for actions.

Shanks: Listen up… You can pour drinks on me, you can throw food at me… You can even spit on me. I’ll just laugh that stuff off. But… Good reason or not… Nobody hurts a friend of mine!!!

More One Piece Badass Quotes

“When do you think people die? When they are shot through the heart by the bullet of a pistol? No. When they are ravaged by an incurable disease? No. When they drink a soup made from a poisonous mushroom!? No! It’s when… they are forgotten.” -Dr. Hiriluk

*People don’t fear god, fear itself is god* –Enel 

Pirates are evil!!? The Marines are righteous!!? These terms have always changed throughout the course of history…!!! Kids who have never seen peace and kids who have never seen war have different values!!! Those who stand at the top determine what’s wrong and what’s right! This very place is neutral ground!!! Justice will prevail, you say!? But of course it will!!! Whoever wins this war becomes justice!!! ~ Donquixote Doflamingo

“Miracles only occur for those with the determination to never stop trying!” -Emporio Ivankov

Sanji: A man forgives a woman’s lies.

*When the world shoves you around, you just gotta stand up and shove back. It’s not like somebody’s gonna save you if you start babbling excuses.* –Zoro

Zoro: “You want to kill me? You couldn’t even kill my boredom!

Luffy: You think risking your own life is enough? Try risking our lives along with yours! WE’RE YOUR FRIENDS!

Nami: (to herself, in a panic) This is bad! I can’t escape like this! Luffy, hurry up and take down Eneru! Wait…what if the ship falls from the sky when Eneru gets defeated? No, if we don’t stop Eneru, the Sky Island will be gone for good! What should I do?! (aloud, to Luffy)What should we do, Luffy? We… Luffy: (tosses Nami his hat) Quit yapping! Nami: But… Luffy: You are the future Pirate King’s friend, so stop being such a worrier!

Eneru: Pirate King? What country does he rule? Luffy: He is the king of the greatest sea in the world! Eneru: That doesn’t sound half bad…Let’s finish this in the sky.

“Dying is not repaying a debt!!! That’s not what he saved you for!!! Only weak men would die after someone spared their lives!” ~Luffy

  “I dont want to conquer anything.. I just think that the guy with the most freedom in this whole ocean .. is the Pirate King!” Monkey D. Luffy 

“We’re pirates you know!! I love heroes, but I don’t want to be one. Do you even know what a hero is!? For example, you have some meat. Pirates will feast on the meat, but the hero will distribute it among the people! I want to eat the meat!!” ~Luffy

And last but not least —

“Crocodile, your ass is grass!” Luffy

Naruto Badass Quotes

Madara’s words about war:

“Listen… In this world, whenever there is light, there are also shadows. As long as the concept of winners exist, there must also be losers. The selfish desire of wanting to maintain peace causes wars and hatred is born to protect love.“

And, of course, there is Obito/Kakashi: “Those who break the rules are scum, that’s true, but those who abandon their friends are worse than scum.”

And Itachi’s words about true nature of a person: “We are humans, not fish. We don’t know what kind of people we truly are until the moment before our deaths. As death comes to embrace you, you will realise what you are. That’s what death is, don’t you think?“

Nagato about Pain: “Those who do not understand true pain can never understand true peace.”

And best of all, we have Naruto: “I’m not gonna run away and I never go back on my word, that is mynindō!My ninja way!”

Read it from the source: https://animebadass.com/20-most-badass-quotes-from-anime-manga/

[todokori-kun]

:)

HEEEEYYYY I FINISHED FMA YESTERDAY

I’M NOT QUITE OVER GREED AND I DOUBT I EVER WILL BE

BUT EVERYBODY’S HAPPY

I’M SO GLAD

(and tiny Pride. It’s fun how he was like, almost the least sympathetic homunculus (I mean, most people can relate to just wanting to go back to sleep ok dad/mom, so even Sloth…lol), and yet he’s the only one who finds a ‘new life’.)

(only HOHENHEIM’S DEAD, my FMA twin is gone ;-; at least that moment with Trisha was beautiful)

I thought I’d cry with FMA’s ending because I did almost cry during the Ishvalan Civil War flashbacks, but…once again, my eyes were dry XD maybe because TG and AoT made me appreciate FMA’s happy ending more?

TYSM for recommending such a great series, Queen Luna <33333 I’m getting kinda emotional XD

UGH. Idek what book that is but I already hate it because of that line.

Hisoka, Hisoka. He’s like the unholy offspring of Furuta and Sebastian. I love it.

(nah, it’s fine,I don’t mind cursing ^^ thanks for asking though, that was sweet)

Yeah, Junior High is pretty cute :) well, it hasn’t been that long since she started learning cello so she’s still playing simple songs like 'mary had a little lamb’ ^^ she really wants to play more complex songs, though.

GAH SORRY I still haven’t started playing OTL I’ve just been a bit busy and had a lot to think about (because COLLEGE) so I kept forgetting…I’ll let you know when I finally start, sorry ;-;

If Urie/Saiko doesn’t become canon…ok, ok, I can deal with Touken, I can deal with that. HOWEVER. If Urie/Saiko doesn’t become canon and Urie/Mutsuki does, I don’t even know what I’ll do. ESPECIALLY IF ISHIDA MAKES URIE ABANDON SAIKO TO 'SAVE’ MUTSUKI OR SOMETHING OMG

I would never! I’m a nice, sweet cinnamon roll who doesn’t know the meaning of the word 'savage’!

If Kimblee actually took a liking to me I’d try to get him to stop blowing things up. Maybe find him a different hobby. But the sad truth is that there’s probably nothing and no one he likes enough to give up his explosions for XD

But you know how I have a cinnamon roll side and then a troll side? Troll!Evans and Kimblee might actually get along really well. Imagine the suffering…

0//////0 Queen Luna is also an amazing friend! Tysm for everything <333 (I say 'tysm’ a lot but then again, there’s no such thing as too many 'thank you’s? lol. Also, I love how 'Queen Luna’ was just a joke at first but now it’s like an actual nickname I use for you. I hardly ever call you just 'Luna’ anymore XD if we ever met irl I’d probably have a hard time calling you anything other than 'queen’)

Oh wow. Sebastian will fight you for the honor of his kitties

X-men is a seperate universe from MCU, though. (I don’t watch X-men so I’m not sure but I think they and MCU agreed to share the Pietro/Wanda twins?) X-men Pietro is a different character from MCU Pietro so our Pietro is still dead ;-;

Moblit and Evans would go on friendly coffee dates and rant about their crazy queens.

Luna/Armin would be so cute, seriously why do I ship you with so many characters…and idk what puberty will do to Armin(will he even survive to go through all of it? sorry) but the fanart of adult!Armin does look good :)

And wait, 15 cm taller than Levi? I’m maybe 3~5 cm taller than him (and I’m only 13 omg) so that makes you at least 10cm taller than me.

It’s really messed up, which means I’ve gotta draw it now XD

Congratulations with Kimblee might go something like this (warning: this is crack and I’m sorta abusing Kimblee's canon abilities, realistically it probably couldn’t go like this):

Shuu: “Mr. Kimblee?!”

Kimblee: “Tsukiyama…

Congratulations.”

*blows up the clock on Shuu’s desk*

“You have invented a new kind of stupid-”

*blows up a framed picture of Shuu and Naomi*

“A 'Damage You Can Never Undo’ kind of stupid-”

*sets fire to the carpet*

“An 'Open All the Cages in the Zoo’ kind of stupid-”

*destroys the entire hecking desk*

“A 'Clearly, You Didn’t Think This Through’ kind of stupid.”

*breaks the window nearest to Shuu*

And then, at the end-

Kimblee: “Every sacrifice you make is for my sister, give her the best life-

Congratulations. :)”

*entire house collapses around them*

So you’d contract Sebastian for chocolate?

(tbh I have a sweet tooth too. I’m sorta sensitive to taste so too many sweets at once makes me get sick of them quickly, but I really like them a little at a time (and I still almost never get sick of chocolate))

ty again for the beautiful edit <3

*hugs* thank you, that really means a lot to me.

But did you see the small Kaneki painting I sent you along with the other pics? Because I actually made that as a way to vent..splattering red blood paint all over the paper did help XD (drawing doesn’t always help, though. When I’m really angry I get the urge to raise my voice and say exactly what I’m thinking, only that’d be horrible so I try to keep it down..but that just makes me angrier LOL)

the left side feels more Kanae and the right side feels more Shuu, but either way, it looks really beautiful :D <3 (also that 'I miss you’ omg I’m getting Shuu/Kaneki feels NO)

(Also I hope the Uta edit I sent you was ok? It was like almost the first aesthetic thing I’ve ever done lol

About it, though: I don’t have a pinterest so I searched stuff like 'black and white aesthetic tumblr’ on google and used the pics that popped up…is that ok? Since I’m just downloading pictures I like and playing around with them on PhotoScape with no intention to post it on the internet or show it to anyone other than you? Idek how this works, I’m way too ignorant about the internet ;-;)

Oh, that sounds cool! I don’t listen to much Ed Sheeran but liked his song for the Hobbit ('I see Fire’? I think that’s what it’s called?) and because Shape of You just keeps playing in the manhwa cafe I go to to read manga, that song kinda got stuck in my head and I can’t stop listening to it XD I don’t listen to remixes a lot for no particular reason but some of them are really cool :)

I’m currently obsessed with Hurricane, Castle, Ghost and 100 Letters by Halsey, along with a bunch of Lana Del Rey songs (going to listen to her new album as soon as I can!), Melodrama (Lorde’s new album), and Young and Menace and Champions by Fall Out Boy…also songs from Steven Universe and Adventure Time, like Love Like You and Everything Stays. And all of FMA’s openings because WOW.

(And yeah, movie/anime soundtracks are always so cool <3)

Is... Is your heart okay? I know it’s a big emotional thing!  Yeee, Greed’s death was a huge shock for me as well T^T WhY Did yOu HaVE tO saY GOodByE

The only thing that really shocked me was Ed giving up his alchemy. It honestly made for a bit of an unsatisfying end, like it’s trying to make way for a sequel (that never came)

Yep, I was expecting you to be not so happy with Hoenheim... Well, at least it’s a happy death? Not in battle, but with his beloved?

TG and AoT scar people for life. Kill of their emotions, so they’re unable to cry at sad things, bc nothing is sad in comparison to those two.  Except for a few rare exceptions. Oh, did I ever tell you that I always, without a fail, cry when watching a specific Love Live episode? It’s about a character that I relate to a bit too much, and since it’s a sorta bittersweet character arc, I always end up crying. The music also gets to me. I could write in detail exactly what and why XD

No problem! If you ever want more recommendations, just say so! Even though I’ll probably recommend series without you asking :P

It’s called ‘Court of Thorns and Roses’. I mean, the writing style is more or less ok, and the premise is interesting at first glance, but then everything gets ruined by the author for not being able to create a flawed MC, cause they have to be perfect!  I’ve read another one of the author’s books before, but dropped it halfway, again because on an annoying MC. The only reason why I finished this one is bc it was the only reading material available XD It’s also supposed to be a spin on Beauty and the Beast, but with fairies, but it was so badly done that I genuinely didn’t realize that until I read it somewhere on the internet. It’s also one of the rare series where I intentionally don’t read the sequels. The original book was that bad I’m getting way too emotional over the book XD

Hisoka is breaking my trash-o meter! It’s over 9000!

Ah, that’s a relief... I’ve definitely started cussing a lot lately, and I know it makes some people uncomfortable, so I wanted to ask ^^

Aw, that’s actually adorable! I hope she gets better at it soon ^^ I’ve always loved listening to string instruments...

Naaah, no worries! Take your time with it! It’s no rush, honestly! Do it at a time that’s convenient to you ^^ Seriously, please don’t feel pressured to play it >_<

Let’s be honest. The possibility of Urie sacrificing himself for Mutsuki is way bigger than Urie/Saiko becoming canon. I cry when I think about it, because we all know Urie would be so much happier with Saiko (*`д´*) Ishida, whyyyyy

Right, I totally believe that. Evans, a sweet, innocent cinnamon roll who doesn't get savage at moments. Sure. Because you totally didn’t set the Flame Alchemist on fire with a burn.

I’m afraid explosions are his one true love. Maybe you could get him to paint explosions instead of making them, though. Like, ‘Ok, Kimblee, here’s paper, some paint, go wild. Just don’t set the room on fire, please.’ He’d show his soft side around you only. If there was anyone else in the room, he’d be his usual self, but with you, in private, he’d probably be a tiny bit sweet. Sometimes.  Troll!Evans and Kimblee would be the actual definition of ‘Prepare for trouble, make it double’. I’d probably run away screaming when you’d announce your relationship XD I’d congratulate you later, but still a bit weary when the two of you are together.

Fun fact: I almost blush every time I read the word Queen XD If I was someone who blushed easily, I’d be an actual tomato while reading your messages ^\\\^ I’d probably actually blush if we were walking around and you called me queen... And then bury myself into a hole forever XD

I’d be the person who’d just shrug her shoulders and be like ‘we all have our opinions’. Now that I think about it, I’d probably get on just fine with Ciel XD

Ah, I see. I just remember that there was a quicksilver in one of those movies, but I didn’t remember the details. 

Hanji and I would simultaneously have the glimmering glasses moment XD  The parallels between the duos are really similar :P

He! Will! Survive! He has too... We already had an almost death for him, and I don’t want an actual death to happen. The cinnamon roll doesn’t deserve it. The first time I saw the fan art, my reaction was. *stares at the screen* ‘well then’ I’d liked Armin from the beginning but this was the moment in which he was cemented as favorite character XD

Aw, Evans is smol for now! When I was 13, I was shortest in class, but now I’m among the tallest. Everyone is taller than Levi... That’s just sad XD But, hey, everyone in Cinderella Phenomenon (I will not shut up) is taller than you! In fact, you’re approx. the height of the MC! Cuuute

Well, my stomach totally doesn’t hurt from laughing too much XD That’s a very destructive version of Congratulations, that would probably end up with someone getting sued XD Shuu for emotional damage, Kimblee for blowing up a fucking house.

Unfortunately, not even chocolate can make me sign a contract with that trash can. Sorry Bassy, but you’re not getting my soul.

Aw, that’s a shame... There’s never enough sweets! 

I’m glad you like it ^^

You could always yell into a pillow? Or punch the pillow if you’re feeling especially angry... 

So, basically, I unintentionally made a Shuu/Kanae edit. I’m not even mad XD 

Yeah, it was pretty good! If you want, I can pass you some advices my friend gave to me when I stared making the edits?  The quote is very Uta, tho. I mean, he does revel in other’s tragedy... 

Yes, of course it is! Find pics any way you want! I’m just using pinterest because it’s easier ^^;; A lot of really artsy pics are posted there, so I quickly find what I’m looking for ^^

Yep, I think it’s called that... Most of his songs on my playlist are from his new album, but some are older as well ^^ There’s this remix of Shape Of You. I listen to it waaay too much XD I found it in an AMV and was immediately like ‘I want this song’, so I downloaded it :P

FMA has some of the best openings and closings I’ve ever heard. My favorite is probably the first one, because it’s just so so amazing *^*

I live for the fantasy fight soundtracks.  A few examples are from the anime Fate/Zero or Fate/Unlimited Blade Works, like This Day and Never Again, Unlimited Blade Works and You Are My King. Those would make a snail race look epic.

AAAALSO THE RAGNAROK TRAILER IS OOUT!  I adored Loki’s moment XD ‘Surprise~ This is going to be so much fun’

[writing-royza]

Two Hundred and Eighty-three - Crowd, 3.0

A/N: Happy Sunday, everyone, and to all those celebrating, Happy Mothers’ Day! Shoutout to my momma, who didn’t raise a fool and is so sweet and funny and adorable and I hope I’m half that at her age. Shoutout to all the moms of my readers, or even to my readers who are moms. And to the mom whose brain gave me these wondeful characters to write about, Hiromu Arakawa: thank you.

I do not own FMA.

Two Hundred and Eighty-three - Crowd, 3.0

The train from North City arrived in East City promptly at two o’clock, its passengers removing warm coats as they emerged into spring air that was considerably warmer than their starting point. A man in a dark leather jacket stepped down to the platform and glanced briefly about before starting for the station proper.

He had almost reached the doors to the street when a young woman, clearly in a rush, glanced to the side at just the wrong moment and cannoned into him. Both gave exclamations of surprise, the man reflexively catching her and helping her regain her balance.

She swept straight brown bangs from her eyes, smiling in embarrassment. “I am so sorry. I should have been watching where I was going.”

“Not a problem. Have a good day, miss.” Nodding politely to her, he brushed past and out of the station.

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

The woman with the long, straight brown hair slipped into the women’s bathroom and paused just long enough to make sure she was alone. Smiling in satisfaction, Riza pulled off the brown wig, shaking her own loose blonde hair free. In the farthest stall from the door was a bag hanging from the hook on the door, and she tucked the wig inside. The long skirt that had covered her close-fitting black pants was slipped off and folded into the bag as well.

And then, from the small of her back where she had tucked it, she pulled the note she had pickpocketed from the man in the leather jacket.

It was short, only two lines. Garrison south gate. Noon, Tuesday. A symbol etched in the corner proved the note’s affiliation with an up-and-coming terrorist cell that had recently appeared, the words stating their intention clearly. Exactly what her team had hoped for.

She stepped into the stall and turned the deadbolt home. Leaving the door locked, she wriggled out through the gap at the bottom, and headed out into the station’s main concourse once again.

She walked casually until she reached the board where departures were listed and stopped, pretending to study the list. It wasn’t a long wait.

“We made four other agents getting off the train from other cars,” Roy murmured behind her. The newspaper he was browsing rustled as he turned a page. “They’re still trawling the concourse, watching for any of us, and we know at least two of them are armed. Did you get it?”

“Of course.” She didn’t looked back, but a smile tugged at her lips. “Your mother taught me too well.”

“That’s my girl.” She could hear the pride and his answering smile. The newspaper rustled again as he folded it. “Carry on.”

They separated, Riza keeping the folded note in her left hand as she went. To the unsuspecting eye, she was just another traveller, just another person being jostled and pushed along by the crowds of passengers and station crew.

Breda loomed up on her left, brushing by her with no eye contact, no sign of recognition. As soon as he was gone, Riza turned and made for the rows of small belongings lockers. She made it without incident, and went immediately to number 73. No sooner had she unlocked it than a heavy body pushed into her, and arm across her shoulders pressing her face-first into the cold metal.

“Where is it?” a strange voice growled behind her. “I know you took it, you sneaky bitch, now hand it over!”

Glancing back over her shoulder, Riza smiled at the man with the leather jacket. And opened both hands to show they were empty.

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

He had seen the dark leather jacket beginning to tail her the minute Mustang melted back into the crowd. That was all right; they had planned it that way exactly. Breda adjusted his wandering course through the packed station to intersect hers, careful not to look directly her, not to hurry too much, not to be too slow or otherwise draw attention to himself.

He passed just behind her, his hand brushing hers on its backswing. As it did, he felt a folded slip of paper pass into his palm… and then Hawkeye was gone, two… three… four people in between them and then more. She swept off toward the lockers, and Leather Jacket followed her. In stopping to check his watch against the big station clock rising out of the centre of the concourse, he spotted one of the other marks detach himself from the far wall and start toward him. Breda immediately turned and began walking to the wide archway that led to the boarding area.

In the squared-off arch, he tripped artfully, putting one hand out to the wall to catch himself. Havoc plucked the note from his friend’s fingers, then watched as he righted himself and kept moving, then held still out of sight as, seconds later, Breda’s pursuer strolled casually by.

Pivoting around the pillar of the arch’s side, Havoc headed back into the concourse, beginning to weave against pedestrian traffic. The colourful stalls of station merchants caught his eye over against one wall and he brightened, changing tack to move in that direction.

He paused at a flower stall, looking briefly over the pre-wrapped bouquets before choosing one and proceeding to the counter. “Hey, you’re not the usual flower girl.”

Rebecca grinned at him. “I make a better spotter than a flower girl,” she said quietly. “You picked up a tail before you were halfway here. Either he suspects you’ve got it, or —” Her voice turned to a teasing singsong. “— sooooomebody liiiiikes yooooou.”

Havoc returned the grin. “I thought that was you.” Flowers in hand, he turned away, passing by the tail she had mentioned by no more than ten feet. He saw the other man hesitate, but didn’t see whether he continued to follow him or went to investigate if the note had been left with Rebecca.

Walking past a few rows of low bench seating, he dropped the note literally into Mustang’s lap under the cover of the other’s newspaper.

For a long minute, Roy did nothing. Then, under cover of readjusting the flimsy pages of newsprint, he picked up the tiny folded note. Getting to his feet, he tri-folded the paper and tucked it under one arm before turning to shake hands with Falman who had been sitting on the bench, the two of them holding a quiet conversation before the note arrived.

“Best of luck to you in your travels,” he said, smiling blandly.

“And to you.” Falman almost looked as though he were about to add ‘sir’ to the end of the sentence, but managed to stifle it. Without any further preamble, Roy turned and started for the men’s bathroom, but caught the barest flicker of movement from inside the semi-private area created by the lockers. His eyes narrowed, and he shifted his course in that direction.

In the meantime, Falman tucked the note inside the book he had been reading, and put that inside the open briefcase beside him on the bench. He latched it firmly, then checked his watch and got to his feet. He made for the ticket counter, moving to an empty wicket. A few seconds passed before Fuery appeared.

“Check your luggage, sir?” he asked professionally.

“Yes, thank you. Just the one.” Passing the briefcase over the counter, Falman waited until the younger man turned away before leaving the counter and moving toward the exit. The man who had been watching him as he sat on the bench was still keeping an eye on him, and began to follow.

He met Havoc, and Breda at the doors… but no Mustang or Hawkeye. The three of them exchanged puzzled glances… then all seemed to give “oh well” looks and pushed out into the afternoon sunlight. They dispersed on the steps, watching as their followers emerged… and were promptly surrounded by military police.

Havoc let out a breath. “Well, at least that went right. Chief didn’t go to his second mark at all.”

Leaning to the side, Breda’s eyebrows lifted. “From look of it, I think he had bigger fish to fry.”

Rebecca came first, holding the door open as, between them, Roy and Riza dragged Leather Jacket out into the sun. He was barely conscious, two fingers on his right hand clearly broken, and a cheek that was already swelling from a solid punch.

Shaking his head, Falman folded his arms. “This cell clearly didn’t do their research. If they had, they would have known better than to try fighting the Colonel when the Lieutenant is involved.”

“He didn’t touch the guy,” Rebecca reported gleefully as she reached them. “That’s all her. Mustang didn’t even get a single chance.”

Having handed their semi-conscious charge into police custody, the two superiors joined the rest of the group. Riza shook out her right hand, the knuckles already showing red from the blow she had delivered. “Someone’s missing,” she said, looking about. “Where’s Fuery?”

“Here!” Running up from down the street, the young man stopped, slightly out of breath. “Sorry; I took the wrong hallway and ended up in the alley beside the station.” He held up the briefcase. “But I’ve got it.”

“Perfect.” Roy took the briefcase, turning to pass it to a waiting MP. “There’s your evidence. Let your commander know he’ll have a full report by tomorrow.” He glanced back at the others. “Great job, everyone. I think that’s the best-executed plan we’ve ever pulled off.”

“Drinks are on you, right?” Havoc said, grinning impudently.

“Sure, at least for the first round.” Roy indicated the station by way of a thumb over his shoulder. “I think Armstrong is still tucked behind the station bar as a backup spotter. Might as well go tell him he can stand down and order drinks at the same time, right?”

The group moved unconcernedly back up the steps, past the glaring eyes of the terror cell. Travellers exiting the station skirted the police, casting curious glances at them and their prisoners, but otherwise totally unaware of the convoluted takedown that had just happened.

[writing-royza]

Two Hundred and Thirty-one - Home Cooking, 3.0

A/N: Happy Sunday, wveryone! I know this doesn’t jive with the continuity of Snap Shot #31 (where Roy says he didn’t know she could cook) but I just kind of pretend that one doesn’t exist so…. I was young them so newto this, so foolish.... So enjoy something better! :P

I do not own FMA.

Two Hundred and Thirty-one - Home Cooking, 3.0

“…It’s not supposed to be this difficult.”

Riza rolled her eyes skyward, praying for patience. “Making a soufflé is difficult,” she corrected. “This is just you being indecisive and me not having gone grocery shopping in a week.” Studying the contents of her small pantry, she pursed her lips in thought. “The trouble is, I’m trying not to go shopping because we move to Central in a week and I don’t want to have to throw all of this away.”

Standing behind her, arms folded, Roy nodded in understanding. “I would be in the same spot myself if I ever actually cooked anything.” Turning toward the table, he rubbed his hands together, thinking. “Okay, let’s go at this mathematically. One thing at a time. Usual makeup of a meal is something like meat, vegetable, and something else, right?”

“Usually, sure.”

“Okay. So the something else — I know I saw about three different kinds of pasta in there. How about that?”

“Okay.” Pulling out three bags of the stuff, Riza hefted each one. “There’s only about enough in each of these for one person. How do you feel about combining two of them?” She checked the types. “Fusilli and baby shells?”

“Do we need the shells’ parents to sign a waiver or something?” He grinned at her exasperated look, dropping into one of the kitchen chairs. “There; we’re a third of the way there. What do you have in the way of meat?”

She thought for a minute, her eyes on the icebox across the room. “There should be some thin steaks in there, the kind that you fry up. Or there’s boneless chicken breast. Take your pick.”

“Normally I’m a steak guy, but in this case, I think I’m feeling the chicken.” He tilted the chair back on its rear legs. “Last part: vegetables.”

“Frozen peas or fresh carrots.” She shrugged, moving to the counter with the pasta. “With chicken and pasta, I’d usually go with peas, but I know you don’t like them. Which is odd, because you’ll eat brussels sprouts and those are just disgusting.”

“Hey, brussels sprouts are fine, if you peel the leaves off and sauté them with garlic butter. Peas are just nasty. And ridiculously tiny.” He spread his hands. “And look at that. We found dinner.”

Riza smiled, indulging him on this minor point of pride. “It would seem you’re right, sir.” She pointed to the stack of files on her kitchen table as she moved toward the icebox. “I’ll get started on this if you get started on those.”

“Fair enough.”

They settled into a companionable silence as they worked, the kind that usually fell over the office when they were alone within it. It was the kind of silence that meant anyone in the room was entirely comfortable with anyone else they were with, a testament to the level of understanding they shared.

Standing at the stove, a pot of water warming to a boil and thin-sliced chicken beginning to fry in a pan, Riza spoke over her shoulder. “So, do you know any good places in Central to go out to eat? I’m thinking it could be a day or so before I’m able to get groceries.”

Roy looked up, grinning lopsidedly. “Hey, I’m Central born and bred. Of course I know places.”

“They actually breed people like you, sir?” She wasn’t quite able to keep the teasing smile off of her face. “I’m surprised that whole city isn’t in shambles.”

Dark eyes rolled at the bad joke. “Oh, very funny.”

“Besides, didn't you say you were born closer to South City?”

“Anyway….” Setting the first finished file aside, he reached for the next. “My point is that yes, I do know a lot of places. It really just depends on what you’re in the mood for.” He frowned at the file’s contents. “Why does Falman have so many extra court notices in here? Did he break every traffic law in the book or something?”

“No, that’ll be from his divorce a few months ago.” Stepping over, she gave the notices a quick glance. “It shouldn’t effect his transfer approval. In fact, I think he’ll be happy to get away from his ex-wife, though maybe not his kids.” Turning, she retrieved the packet of dry pasta. “So… let’s say it’s the first morning in Central. Where’s a good place for breakfast?”

“Noble Street Café.” Roy didn’t even hesitate, even though the majority of his attention was on his work. “Probably considered a hole-in-the-wall, but it’s pretty popular nonetheless. The owner is a friend of the Madame, which is how I heard about it.” He shook his head. “I don’t know what they do to their bacon, but it’s dangerously addictive.”

“That reminds me….” Returning to the icebox, she pulled a packet of white waxed paper from inside, holding it up. “What do you think — add a little in with the chicken, give it a bit of extra flavour?”

“Do you seriously think I’m going to say no to bacon?”

“And I don’t need much convincing either.” She moved to the counter, taking a knife from the block near the sink. “Lunch shouldn’t be a problem; that’s what the base cafeteria is for.” She frowned, opening the packet. “Should I just cook all of this and the rest of the pasta? It would take care of my lunches for the next few days….”

He looked over. “If it’s too much for you to eat on your own, I’ll take some.” Setting Falman’s file aside, he reached for the next one. “In terms of dinner places, do you prefer sit-down or take-away?”

“Depends on how late I’m working.”

“Okay, well…. For take-away, there’s a good Xingese place not too far from Command’s main gate. Maybe a ten-minute walk?” He watched her chopping the strips of frozen bacon into little squares, eyeing how close the knife was to her fingers. “The owners are good people; immigrated from Xing about fifteen years ago. And I think the Madame helped them get a liquor license when they started their shop.”

“So I know she’s probably personal vetted them, then,” Riza answered wryly. “And I am a sucker for good Xingese food. Okay then, what about in terms of sit-down dinners?”

His tone was all innocence as he asked “Formal or casual?”

“Let’s put your knowledge to the test. Both.”

He shrugged as she set the knife aside, his attention returning to the files. “If you want casual, there’s a mom-and-pop place maybe a quarter-mile out from Command’s east gate. They see a lot of business from the military, and last I knew, they had a ten percent discount if you show your military ID.” He paused, frowning as he thought. “Formal…. There’s a combination lounge-slash-dining room on Twenty-first Street, within a mile of the north gate. Classy place, classy clientele.”

The look Riza gave him over her shoulder was a knowing one. “And of those two places, I take it that both of them know the Madame?”

“Hey, I said I knew places, not that they all also happened to be part of her information network.” He looked up grinning, only for the smile to fade as he found her studying the stove with a thoughtful frown. “…What is it?”

“It’s just occurring to me…. This is going to make a lot of food.” She glanced over at him. “More than you and I could eat in one night, and the more I think about it, I don’t want to be stuck eating the same thing for the next few days. Not when there’s still other things in that pantry that should be taken care of as well.”

Catching on, Roy smirked. “How many of the men should I call?”

“All of them.”