#in all seriousness tytyTY for all the love this year for my wee fics ❤️ it means a lot

[fullmetalscullyy]

I posted 2,474 times in 2022

That's 1,288 more posts than 2021!

200 posts created (8%)

2,274 posts reblogged (92%)

Blogs I reblogged the most:

@fullmetalscullyy

@lokitvsource

@andrew3garfield

@lokihiddleston

@klainelynch

I tagged 1,823 of my posts in 2022

Only 26% of my posts had no tags

#th - 441 posts

#royai - 315 posts

#fma - 211 posts

#txf - 166 posts

#emma talks - 131 posts

#:) - 85 posts

#crimson peak my beloved - 50 posts

#royai fic - 43 posts

#emma writes - 43 posts

#royai fanfic - 41 posts

Longest Tag: 139 characters

#there's a high school au for all the teenage angst lmao and that fantasy au that the plot is there for i just need to sit down and write it

My Top Posts in 2022:

#5

me: maybe i'll rewatch fmab again

also me: [only rewatches death of the undying & only rewatches sacrifices & lost light]

40 notes - Posted August 19, 2022

#4

tragic royai....... soft royai...... domestic royai........ so many tasty flavours in one ship 🤌

46 notes - Posted April 2, 2022

#3

a wall of pillows

more vibesss

rated: g | words: 1842 | tags: royai, there was only one bed, fluff, waking together, cuddling

read on ao3

It made sense that Riza should move out of her bedroom.

Her back injuries, while mostly healed, were still not well enough for her to sleep in a bedroom where water was leaking in through a hole in a dilapidated roof, bringing some damp and a bitingly cold breeze along with it.

It was getting worse, Riza thought with a sigh, as she squinted up at the offending splinter in the structure. The air within the room was making her shiver now. Once night fell, and the early spring sun disappeared behind the trees, it would be even worse.

Her squint turned into a frown, then a scowl.

Roy’s hovering in the doorway as she assessed the damage wasn’t making it any better either.

The only other option was to move into his room. Because she could not face sleeping in her late father’s bed.

A night on the couch was absolutely out, according to her temporary caretaker. Not that Riza minded or would argue with Roy there anyway. The ratty, old piece of furniture wasn’t even comfortable for sitting on, never mind sleeping. It would only aggravate her back further. Roy had offered to sleep there, however Riza had never been anything other than a perfect host, something her father had instilled within her. She couldn’t ask him to sleep on that couch while she commandeered his bed.

“What if we were to share a bed?”

Her sharp glance at such a suggestion didn’t appear to faze him.

No, she didn’t particularly want to share a bed with him. But she didn’t want to freeze overnight. The latter would only hinder her recovery process.

Riza couldn’t have Roy facing the same fate either.

Roy retrieved the pillows from Riza’s bed before she’d even made a decision, and tossed them onto the top of his bed without a care. It was comical how much higher Riza’s pillow side was compared to his, but it wouldn’t be the case for long.

She arranged them carefully into a wall between her and Roy.

It was nothing personal, Riza explained to him, but it made her feel more… comfortable.

It was silly, she thought. She’d bared herself to him completely. He’d seen the tattoo on her back and had listened to her tale of how it came to be. He’d burned the most important parts off her skin. He’d seen her break down with the pain and howl up to the ceiling in agony. It felt like Roy Mustang knew her inside out, better than anyone else ever had, and yet, sharing a sleeping space still made her pause. It made anxiety flare within her chest, making her heart stutter in silent panic and her stomach clench.

Roy’s care as he nursed her back to health had been astronomically great. He’d been attentive and protective. He’d been at her beck and call, seeing to her every wish, not that there were many. When Riza had been unable to lift her head from the pillow in the early days, he’d assisted with her eating and drinking. He’d even read to her.

The sound of his voice had lulled her to sleep more often than she’d care to admit.

And Riza had witnessed his guilt towards it all. It swam beneath his kind, dark eyes and never relented. It was always present and never went away. Riza didn’t think it would for while even though she’d absolved him of his actions against her skin. He’d helped free her, Riza always told him. It was what she’d wanted. She reinforced those facts, but it still didn’t shift.

But it didn’t mean she’d stop trying.

Sharing a bed though… Despite the closeness which had developed even further after Roy had granted Riza’s request, it was an action which felt so… intimate. It felt like it was taking a step further into unknown territory. They were both young adults now and the innocence that had been present when they’d shared a bed previously as children was long gone.

Everything had changed between them over the last few years.

The conversation stating her wish to keep some semblance of a boundary between them was awkward, but Roy didn’t seem to mind. He shot her an easy-going smile and assured her it was fine. He remained open and understanding of her desire to keep distance between them and agreed with her.

“Whatever makes you most comfortable, Riza.”

However, during sleep, they were still drawn together.

Riza woke in the morning to find herself lying on top of Roy.

More specifically, her head was resting on his left side, above his heart – which beat steadily underneath her ear – and she was curled against his side. Her free arm was draped across his torso and gripped onto him by his ribs, her fingers curled into his side as she tried to hold on and secure herself against him.

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49 notes - Posted March 26, 2022

#2

we didn't really see how royai were affected and recovered after father exploded that one time during the end fight on the promised day and as a result i had A Thought:

words: 1471

read on ao3

The blowback of energy was overwhelming. It stole air from lungs and tore away any ability to cry out, to yell, to call for help. It threw everyone backwards before they could even blink. Bodies thumped against the ground painfully and with no mercy. Aches and pains erupted over skin, some down to the bone, others superficial that would heal within a short time.

Those were the lucky ones.

When people were able, the sounds of choked coughing and desperate gasps for oxygen to inflate lungs filled the air, alongside pained groans. Some people were already calling out to others. To try and locate them and to assess injuries. To offer assistance and give out orders to re-join the fight. To cry for help. It all followed after a deafening, still silence where only the wind passed through the battle ravaged area.

Roy took longer to return to coherency than the others. His mind was sluggish and his eyes blinked blearily open to face the sky above.

But there was nothing.

Pitch black.

He knew it had been a nice day that morning. Clear blue sky with not a cloud in sight. That’s how it had started out. What it must look like now, with smoke billowing across it, pulled by the wind and obscuring what should have been something pretty. Even shrouded by the smoke that was now threatening to choke him, what Roy would give to see such a thing. Even for just a second. But even if he could see, if his vision was still intact, he wouldn’t have had a second to revel in such a view.

His mind – when it had regained it’s faculties – quickly ran through an assessment of his physical status. Everything that was hurting before was still doing so, but even more so now. He didn’t appear to have any new aches and pains and his current ones had aches on top of that.

He must have been one of the “lucky” ones.

It was a feat, but he managed to lift his arms and neck with minimal pain and roll onto his stomach. Fighting against his new reality, Roy’s head still turned left and right in an attempt to search for his Lieutenant. It was childish – perhaps feverish after all he’d been subjected to in such a short space of time – but he was sure if he willed it enough, blinked often enough, his vision would clear and he’d see her caramel eyes again.

Desperation and blood loss brought out peculiar thoughts from within him.

He had no idea where she would have landed. He had no idea where he had landed. It felt relatively far and judging by the impact it had hurt but he simply had no frame of reference. No way to tell. No landmarks to look at and pick out given his last known location.

Roy took a deep breath and pulled oxygen into his lungs. He ignored the sharp pain in his ribs as he did so. He took the air in and tried to clear his mind and rationalise. And strategise.

She couldn’t have gotten too far. She must be nearby.

“Hawkeye?” His attempt at a call was pathetic. It was nothing more than a quiet rasp. It was still taking his body some time to reclaim back the oxygen he’d lost after being winded by the hard landing.

It was taking too long.

And there was no immediate answer to his call.

Now with more oxygen, his brain painted a clearer picture in his mind of what could have happened. And Roy remembered and took everything into account.

His attempt at recovery had been slow, but he hadn’t had his throat slit. Hawkeye had.

Roy’s own throat cramped up as he inhaled sharply, consequently choking on air. Fear trickled through his veins and threatened to constrict his heart. It had already given it a squeeze as he fought off the worst thoughts that were currently springing to his mind. Dread crept up his spine and caused his blood to run cold.

If he’d taken a few moments longer to recover, and he’d fared far better than Hawkeye down in the tunnels, how was she after that blast? What was her status? What condition was she in after her already nearly catastrophic blood loss from earlier?

Would she even rise from the ground after being subjected to a blast like that?

“Lieutenant!” He ended up having a coughing fit but his call had been louder and clearer by sheer force of will alone.

Brought on by panic and distress.

Nothing.

The fighting continued on around him. Roy was blind. He could see nothing, so was useless. His attacks would be too dangerous and destructive to be let off unrestrained and he would not injure another innocent with alchemy. He refused. He needed his eyes. He needed his guiding light. He needed –

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56 notes - Posted March 13, 2022

My #1 post of 2022

the way mulder looks at scully and winks at her in this ep i'm screaming crying throwing up

96 notes - Posted March 11, 2022

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