#just arrived at the part where she tells roy to burn off her tattoo as you can probably tell lmao

[a-bitch-made-fullmetal]

rip Riza Hawkeye you would have loved laser tattoo removal

[abubblingcandle]

RoyJamie Bingo Masterpost

The place to find all of my @royjamiebingo fills

P1 - Miscommunication

P2 - Manchester - I am Real and the Pretender Ch2

Ch2 - Jamie walks out onto the pitch with his biggest fan but the walls remain up around his teammates

P3 - "Give us a kiss then" - The Lost City

Roy doesn't know what to feel about the new season starting. Catrick is still a prick. Roy's body is failing him. The team is arguably shit. He just needs to take his mind off it all and what better way to do it than finding some pretty boy to suck all his feelings out through his dick

“He’s new to the club, not new to the scene. Early twenties, sub but bratty, got an ego the size of Mount Everest, fit, been here basically every night this past week and nobody has worked out for him. Connor nearly lamped him,” Casey huffed a laugh. Roy’s jaw tightened and grip on the counter did the same. “But yet he’s still here. Back flirting and causing a scene. He’s Keeley’s latest part time fling but looking for someone to take him out of his head he says. They certainly gotta work for it though.”

P4 - Practice - The Portable Heater (you'll be cold without)

When Roy got the message from Jamie cancelling their 4am training, he assumed the lad was just hung over. But when he arrives at regular training Roy starts to worry it's something worse. He's not sure when he started to want to look after the prick but the compulsion was definitely in full force now.

P5 - Matching Tattoos - For The Rest Of My Days

Jamie and Roy are happily married but they are not happily out to the world. This starts to take it's toll on Jamie but Roy has a solution.

R1 - Domestic Fluff

R2 - Not Actually Unrequited Love

R3 - Public Opinion

R4 - Roomates AU - An Effective Echelon

When Jamie is rejected by Man City and Richmond in one day, he is in dire need of someone to take his anger out on. Who else would be better than Roy Kent? Get into a little fight, get punched, maybe feel something again, go home, job done.

What this plan doesn't take into account is Roy inviting him inside and giving him a bed for the night ... and not punching him in the face!

R5 - "What are you wearing?" - Questionable Summer Fashion Choices

“What the fuck are you wearing?”

Roy didn’t even know what to think about what he had just walked in on. He had existed in football changing rooms are all long as he could remember and so had stumbled upon everything you could ever think of stumbling upon in a changing room. But this complete and utter affront to his sensibilities was something brand new and a full different tier of stupid.

“Oh, hey Roy,” Keeley chirped up from where she was reclined in the corner on her phone.

“What the fuck is he wearing?” Roy turned to Keeley to try and get an answer through the giggles of the assembled greyhounds. They were only buckets of popcorn away from this being a real show.

“Um it’s called a shirt Roy,” Jamie scoffed, rolling his eyes as he spun round.

I1 - Travelling - Are We There Yet?

Train strikes derail Jamie's summer plans so he has to find another way to travel the length of the country. Good thing he has a coach that loves him so much and will drop everything to drive him on a 4 hour each way round trip ... what do you mean Roy said no?

I2 - "Thank you" - I am Real and the Pretender Ch1

Roy knows that Jamie Tartt is a prick. Deep down he has accepted that Jamie Tartt is a prick. So why is the fact that Jamie is good with children causing something to happen with his feeling

5 times Prick Jamie was good with children and 1 time Roy kissed him for it

Ch1 - Roy is pursued by a toddler and is rescued by surprise baby sitter Jamie Tartt

I3 - Free - It's Not Lost, You Just Don't Know Where It's Gone

Roy and Jamie go cycling again when Roy is struggling with his feelings. Their chat turns to nostalgia and thinking about that ghost fire. Roy tells Jamie about the blanket he regrets burning ... which puts Jamie in an awkward situation for many reasons. 1) Jamie didn't burn the boots his mum gave him 2) And he just lied to Roy about that 3) Roy's blanket didn't burn either 4) And he's just lied to Roy about that as well

I4 - Phoebe - Monopoly Warfare

An innocent game night turns into a game of extortion, slight of hand, stamina, sleep deprivation and potential avunculicide

aka. Monopoly makes it onto the banned games list in the Kent-Tartt household

I5 - Competition - Suspension of Duties

Roy hasn't needed to have a wank on his own in months with Jamie around but with Jamie out at a sponsor party and nothing to do to entertain himself ... what else was a man to do? What he didn't expect was this to lead to Jamie finding Roy with his pants around his knees, sprawled on the living room settee, with his hand around his cock and Jamie’s season of Lust Conquers All on the TV.

C1 - Sam Obisanya

C2 - Touch Starved - Everytime We Touch

Roy woke up feeling like death and calls his sister to get him to hospital. Jamie woke up feeling like death but keeps trucking and goes to work.

Neither of them even considered that their matching pains could be anything to do with the vanilla vodka from the night before. But that one decision of Roy's, to drink Jamie's drink, leaves them both trapped together for the next two weeks.

C3 - Music

C4 - Because I love you" - Plum and Cherry

Ted wants Roy to come and coach Richmond but he doesn't anticipate the prospective coach's new relationship to be the sticking problem in getting the contract signed

C5 - 4:00

K1 - Much Needed Hug

K2 - Soulmates AU

K3 - Insomnia - One Step Out of Time

Jamie thought he was rebuilding a relationship with his father. He thought he would be fine when James Tartt Sr was back out into the world as a free sober man. Jamie was wrong on all counts. Now Jamie can't sleep no matter what he tries and why is Roy being so goddamn nice to him all of a sudden?

Jamie explores his relationship with his father, his relationship with his Roy and his relationship with the concept of a relationship all while trying to hold onto his own sanity

K4 - Sharing Clothes - What's Yours is Mine

Jamie knew the power he wielded over Roy. Roy had sculpted Jamie's body and loved to see the impact he had on the other man's physique.

Roy didn't know the power he wielded over Jamie until he tried on one of Jamie's jumpers and let's just say ... Jamie is a fan.

K5 - Pool Day

[aquietwritingcorner]

Writers Month Day 5: Secret Word Count: 4850 Author: aquietwritingcorner/realitybreakgirl Rating: T Characters: Riza Hawkeye, Roy Mustang, Jean Havoc, Heymans Breda, Vato Falman, Kain Fuery Warning: Talk of abuse, although mostly hinted at. We all know that’s tied into Riza’s tattoo. Summary: One night on their way to Ishval, Hawkeye’s tattoo is revealed to the team. The discovery and consequential fallout do not go over so well. Notes: This is heavily based off of a headcanon session I had with @canisfuria some time back. This or something very similar (and more polished) will eventually be part of a longer series of one-shots I have planned. AO3 || ff.net

 ______________________________________________________

 Secret

 Noise interrupted the otherwise peaceful, if hot, desert night. Out of the three tents, the one in the middle was suddenly rocking with commotion, breaking the unusual peace the night had previously brought. Of course, this meant that the occupants of the other tents were woken as well, the shouts and the sight of the tent shaking sending them rushing over to it.

Mustang arrived first, the tent he and Hawkeye shared a little bit closer. He pulled a glove on, eyes sweeping over the area, ready for action. He never had time to assess the situation, however, as Havoc emerged from the tent, a wild-eyed rage about him. Without warning, but with a bellow of rage, Jean Havoc locked eyes on him, and then decked Roy Mustang. The hit was audible, and the General went back hard, hitting the sandy soil with a painful sounding thump. Shouts of surprise went up all around, but Havoc seemed singularly focused as he took another step towards Mustang.

Falman, who had been coming towards the commotion as well, threw himself between Havoc and Mustang, trying his best to hold Havoc back. Fuery, who had come out with Falman, was already by Mustang’s side, helping him sit up, although he kept an eye on Falman and Havoc. Havoc’s rage hadn’t abated, and Falman was struggling.

Lost among the noise was the sound of a tent flap opening. Hawkeye emerged, quick and distressed eyes taking in the scene, even as she clutched a shirt that was clearly not her own around her. Breda, not saying a word, but with a deadly serious look on his face, stayed right next to her.

“What in the name of all the gods was that for, Havoc!” Mustang growled out, starting to stand. Fuery stayed by his side, still watching.

“I saw her back!” Havoc yelled out, still struggling against Falman, still obviously angry.

Mustang stared at him, shocked, before his gaze switched over to Riza.

“An accident, sir,” she said her voice deceptively steady. “The lamp caught my shirt on fire, and they pulled it off of me.”

Breda hadn’t moved from Hawkeye’s side, but his gaze was firmly fixed on Mustang. “You need to explain yourself, General.”

“Explain nothing!” Havoc spat out. “He needs to—”

“Havoc, enough!” Hawkeye snapped out. She stepped up, warning Breda off with a glance as he moved to stay beside her. She moved to stand in front of Havoc, who stopped trying to break Falman’s hold when she moved between him and Mustang. “I will not explain myself like this, nor will I do it while you attack the general.” She glanced back at Mustang and the two of them exchanged a look. “Come with us,” she said, her eyes hard and clearly not accepting any other option.

Mustang and Riza moved off and, after a moment, Havoc shook off Falman, and followed after them.

As the three moved off, Fuery and Falman stared after them, more than a little confused. Breda watched, his look calculating and guarded.

“What… what just happened here?” Falman finally asked, as the three of them watched the other three, who were only a short distance off, although mostly out of earshot.

Riza had planted herself between Mustang and Havoc, which looked to be the only reason that Havoc wasn’t punching Mustang again. Although the group at the tents couldn’t hear what was being said, they could clearly tell that there were raised voices. The conversation obviously wasn’t going well, if the wild gestures and threatening body language meant anything.

Finally, Breda spoke. “…if you had to choose between the general or Riza, who would you side with?”

Both Falman and Fuery snapped their heads towards Breda.

“…Sir?” Fuery asked, the confusion clear in his voice.

“’You heard me,” Breda said, sparing both of them a look.  “Who would you side with?”

Fuery’s brown crinkled in confusion. “They’re… They’re the same side,” he said.

“No, they aren’t,” Breda said. “They’re two different people with two different goals.”

Fuery and Falman exchanged a look.

“I don’t understand what you mean, sir,” Falman said.

Breda scoffed, and looked back at the three who were arguing. Havoc had put himself between Riza and Roy, as if he were protecting her. Breda’s jaw tightened. It was too late for that wasn’t it? He shook his head, and looked back over at the other two.

“She came in tonight. She never said why, just like the other times, but Hav welcomed her in all the same. She looked like she needed it. We moved things around to accommodate, but somewhere in there the lamp’s glass must have tipped up, and the flame caught her shirt on fire. I noticed it first, but Havoc was closer and acted. He pulled it off of her, but that was when we both saw it.”

He paused, his jaw working. Riza had worked her way back between Havoc and Roy, and was clearly angry. Neither Falman or Fuery said anything, waiting for Breda to continue.

“Her back,” he said. “From neck to waist and side to side, it’s covered in a large tattoo of Roy’s matrix.” He heard the sharp intake of breath from the other men but didn’t take his eyes off of the woman in question. “It’s also covered in three large burn scars. One is bigger than my hand, one about half that size, and another the size of my palm. They’re bad enough they destroyed the tattoo, and they’re old.”

There was a beat of silence, and then Falman let out a Drachman explicative. Fuery opened his mouth, only for a loud shout to take their attention back to the other three.

Hawkeye shoved Havoc back sharply, her voice rising up, loud enough to be heard.  “—DARE you determine what’s right or wrong in MY life! That’s for ME to decide and I have MADE my decisions!”

It looked as if Riza was about to fight Havoc on her own, if not for Mustang interfering. He said something that they couldn’t hear to her, and she held her place, although she was clearly angry. There were a few more exchanged words, and then, suddenly, they all split up. Mustang had his arm around Riza’s shoulders, and the two of them walked away together while Havoc turned and went in the opposite direction, heading back towards the camp.

Falman and Fuery said nothing as Havoc came closer, not sure what to say, but Breda simply asked “Hav?” without moving.

Havoc didn’t slow down as he passed them, hands balled up and shaking. “I’m going for a walk,” he ground out, stiff and angry.

Breda gave a nod, and like that, the argument was seemingly over, although absolutely nothing was resolved, and the tension remained.

By the time Havoc returned, an hour or two had passed, although no one was asleep.  He passed by Falman and Fuery, who were by the fire, talking in hushed voices. The light was still on in his and Breda’s tent, meaning the other man hadn’t gone to sleep yet. But more importantly to the blonde, there was still a lamp light on in Mustang and Hawkeye’s tent.

Havoc walked to it, stopping outside of it with an inaudible sigh and steeled his nerves. Now that he was calmer, he knew that he needed to get to the bottom of this. He knocked on the tent flap and waited. There was a pause of activity, and then Mustang’s voice called out.

“Come on in, Havoc.”

Havoc pushed the flap aside, ducking his head as he entered. Hawkeye and Mustang both stared up at him. She had been cleaning her guns, Havoc noted, and Mustang had been reading, and, apparently, icing his cheek, although where he had gotten ice from was anyone’s guess.

“I want to apologize,” Havoc said, and Mustang raised an eyebrow. “But let’s get something straight. I’m not apologizing for the punch—not yet.” He sat down in front of them, face serious. “I’m apologizing for acting without knowing all the information. I saw Riza’s back, and I jumped to conclusions. It an old flaw of mine, especially with people I care about. But until I know the whole story, I’m not apologizing for the punch.”

Hawkeye and Mustang exchanged looks.

“That’s fair,” Hawkeye said, although there was still something strained in her voice. Mustang sat up straighter, putting his book to the side while Hawkeye started nimbly reassembling her gun, and Havoc realized that Mustang was waiting on her to start the story.

“When I was young,” she said as her fingers worked. “My mother died. I have very little memory of her, but I knew that she loved me dearly. Her passing left my father and myself behind. Before mother passed, I know that Father loved me. Or, at least, he was fond of me. I have some memories of him playing with me. However, with mother’s death, his warmth also left. I suppose it was his way of coping, but Father threw himself into his research.” She put the last piece on her gun and looked up at Havoc. “He was an alchemist, you see.”

She took a breath but kept going. “From then on, Father was a cold, demanding, frightening man. He cared only for his studies and for finding someone to carry them on.” Her jaw tightened, and she looked away for a moment, before refocusing on Havoc. Mustang shifted the smallest bit closer to her. “He determined that I was not intelligent enough to continue them. I believe that any chance of regaining his affection died that day, although I didn’t realize it at the time.”

“After that, my role in his life was reduced to housekeeper, cook, maid, and occasional outlet for his anger. I was also expected to keep up with my own studies. As the years passed and the money ran out, I took on additional tasks, such as hunting, gardening, and anything else that needed to be done. He had little to do with me, and after learning what having his attention now meant, I preferred it that way. Father, meanwhile, took on apprentice after apprentice, only for each of them to leave. When I was nine, a new apprentice came.”

She glanced at Mustang, and a bit of a smile touched her lips. “It was a smarmy city boy who didn’t look like he’d last five minutes on his own in the countryside. To my surprise, he lasted much longer than that with my father. Eventually, we grew to be friends.”

Her smiled faded. “However, when Roy was eighteen, and I fourteen, he enlisted in the military. Father did not approve of the military and especially not of state alchemists. He refused to teach Roy anything further, kicked him out, and disavowed him. After that, Father threw himself into his research to the point that I was afraid he would die in the midst of it.”

She stopped, taking in a breath, and Mustang definitely slid closer to her. “When I was fifteen, he asked me for my help. He wanted to entrust me with the secrets of his flame alchemy. Despite everything, I still wanted my father’s affections, and I agreed. For a year he tattooed my back. At first, I thought it would gain me his love, but I soon realized that wasn’t the case. All he cared for was his research. I tried to protest, but he wouldn’t hear of it. I had no choice but to comply. I was sixteen when he finished. The next year, he died.”

She looked at Mustang. “Roy had come back after graduating, trying to see if he could convince father to teach him the secrets of flame alchemy. He died while talking to Roy. Roy helped me bury him, and we talked. I determined that he truly could use flame alchemy for good, and so I showed him my back.”

Here, Mustang picked up the story. “I was… horrified… to see what Master Hawkeye had done. But at the same time, I was hungry for the knowledge. We talked it over more, and with her agreement, I spent nearly a year there, studying her back. Afterwards, I went to take the test and received my state alchemist title.”

“I decided to join the military as well,” Hawkeye said. “I wanted to help people, too. I wanted to protect our country.”

They looked at each other, and for a moment, they didn’t say anything.

“It didn’t turn out like we had planned.” Mustang finally said. “And we both blamed ourselves.” He reached over and took Hawkeye’s hand. “I found her, just before leaving, patting down the dirt on a grave.”

“It was an Ishvalan child,” Hawkeye said, looking down at their hands. “I couldn’t bare to leave him like that.”

“It was there she asked me to burn her back,” Mustang continued. “I wanted to refuse, but...”

“I was insistent,” Hawkeye picked back up. “There could be no more flame alchemists. I would not be responsible for that level of destruction again. I was the guardian of the secrets of flame alchemy. I would rather die or be defaced then let anyone else learn them.”

“We waited until we were both on furlough, and then… I did it,” Mustang said, his voice rough. “I only burned away the most important parts. I was afraid doing more would kill her. But I burned her, helped her through the worst of the recovery.”

Hawkeye looked back up at Havoc, her gaze steady, sure. “It was my choice,” she said. “It was my choice to have him burn me, and my choice to follow him after that. I could have quit then and there, but I chose to stay and fight for a future where no more Ishvals would happen again.” She paused, making sure she had his attention. “My choice, Havoc. My life. My decision.”

For a moment, Havoc was silent. Then, slowly, he nodded. “That’s… a lot to take in.” He was quiet for a few moments longer, processing all he had been told, and then he turned his attention to Mustang, his gaze still hard. “You worked with Berthold for years. You knew him almost as well as she did. And you didn’t do anything to save her?”

Mustang kept Havoc’s gaze for a moment, and then bowed his head. “That’s correct.”

“What are you talking about?” Hawkeye interrupted. “He made living with that man bearable!”

“But he still left you living with him,” Havoc shot back.

“Instead of doing what?” Hawkeye demanded. “Whisking me away on horseback? That man was a monster, but he was still my father!”

Havoc looked at her, and them, his expression unfathomable for a moment. He looked as if he wanted to argue the point, to say something more, but then he let out a sight. “Right,” he finally said, looking away. “It’s the past. There’s nothing to do about it.” He looked back at Roy. “Sorry for that right hook.”

Mustang let out a huff. “Yeah, well, don’t let it happen again.”

“Not unless you truly deserve it,” Havoc agreed.

He looked over at Hawkeye. “And sorry about… well, I’m not going to apologize for defending you or wanting to protect you, but sorry for not listening first.”

Hawkeye shook her head. “It’s alright,” she said.

With that, Havoc got up, bidding the both a good night. He exited the tent, but he wasn’t ready to settle down yet. He had too much to mull over, but he also didn’t feel like being alone, Looking around the camp, he could see that Breda was out of their tent, looking over something with Falman. But Fuery didn’t seem to be busy. Havoc approached him.

“Hey, Sarge. Wanna go for a walk?”

Fuery blinked up owlishly at him but gave a nod and stood. “Sounds good, sir,” he said.

Together they ambled away, towards the tree line. It was still dark out, and nothing much was said for the first few minutes of the walk. Havoc didn’t feel like talking, but he also didn’t want to be alone. Fuery walked beside him, patient enough for a bit.

Still, after a few minutes, the younger man gentled prodded him. “So, I saw you went to talk to the general and the captain.”

Havoc sighed, taking a long drag on his cigarette. “Yeah, I did.”

“Everything get settled?”

“Sort of.” There was a pause, and finally, Havoc spoke again. “It’s not my story to tell,” he said finally. “She’ll tell you when she’s ready. You two’ve gotten close since it all went down. Don’t worry about it, Sarge.”

Fuery made a noncommittal noise but didn’t push it any further. The two of them walked a little further, until finally heading back to camp. They weren’t far out when Fuery spoke again.

“…That was a cheap shot you got in earlier, though.”

“Yeah, I suppose so.”

There was a beat, and then. “It was pretty satisfying to watch.”

Havoc laughed at the unexpectedness of the comment. “Well, we’ve all wanted to get in a good swing at the general at least once!”

The levity helped, and when they got back to camp, Havoc was ready to go to bed. Fuery headed over to Falman, who was still by the fire, and Havoc headed towards his and Breda’s tent, taking a moment to glance at the tent of his COs, and glad to see the light out in it.

Breda was already in his sleeping bag, reading a book by the lamp light. He glanced up when Havoc came in but didn’t say anything. They both settled down to sleep, neither of them saying anything. Breda was falling into sleep, assuming Havoc was already there, when Havoc’s voice broke the quiet.

“It was her decision.”

Breda paused. “…The tattoo or the burns?”

“Not the tattoo. That was her father’s.”

Breda fell quiet at that, taking it in, not able to find something to say for a few minutes. Finally, he did.

“…that’s messed up.”

“…yeah.”

Neither of them said anything else that night, but Breda resolved to keep a closer eye on Riza from now on and make his own judgements about the situation. He had the basic information he needed for now. The rest would come in time.

The next day dawned far too early for any of them, and far too solemn. The whole team was subdued, and it escaped no one’s notice how Mustang and Hawkeye stuck closer together, and how Breda kept an eye on Hawkeye. By the time they stopped again for the night, everyone was exhausted. Camp was set up, a fire was made, and food was eaten. They moved around the camp after eating, each taking care of what they needed to.

Fuery was sitting next to the fire, tinkering with a radio when Hawkeye stopped in front of him. He looked up at her. She looked tired, exhausted, but as if she had come to a decision.

“Kain. Let’s go for a walk.”

“Sir?”

“You want to know, don’t you?”

Fuery rose to his feet and followed her out of the camp and into the nearby wilderness. No words were spoken at first, and Fuery didn’t push her. He could tell that she was on edge and low on patience. Finally, after a few minutes she spoke.

“What did they tell you?” she asked.

He hesitated. “…that you have a very large tattoo on your back. That’s it’s the general’s matrix. And that there are large burns on it.”

She nodded, not saying anything. Finally, after a moment, she spoke, her voice very detached, clinical, and matter-of-fact.

“My father was an alchemist. His life’s work was studying flame alchemy. He and I lived alone from the time I was four until I was nine. He… was a frightening man. Nothing mattered to him, except for alchemy. When I was nine, the general came to apprentice under my father. He was thirteen. He lived with us until he was eighteen and joined the military. My father didn’t approve of the military and refused to teach him flame alchemy. A year after he left, my father decided to hide his research by tattooing it on my back. It wasn’t long after, that he died. Roy came back and helped me bury him, and I decided that I would show him my father’s research. Unfortunately, it was not used the way that either of us intended. At the end of Ishval, I asked Roy to burn it off of my back. He agreed and burned the most important parts off. After I healed, I made the choice to join him on this path.”

Fuery didn’t say a word as he listened, just taking it all it. The silence stretched between them, and Fuery could tell that she was waiting for him to have questions. He did have questions, but he also didn’t want to push her too far. Finally, after a moment, he asked one.

“I didn’t, um… I haven’t seen it—a-and you don’t have to show me! But Breda said it was big…” He wasn’t sure how to phrase his question.

“Yes,” she replied, in that same detached, exhausted voice. “It covers my back. It holds a lot of information that only a trained alchemist could read.”

There was a moment of silence again as Fuery paused.

“…how long did it take to do?”

“About a year, done in differing sessions with time to heal between.”

“Did it hurt?”

“Yes.”

The quiet stretched out between them again, and Fuery looked down.

“…did you have a choice?”

This time, the silence came from Hawkeye. “…he asked me, and I said yes. But I didn’t know what I was agreeing to. And by the time I figured it out, it was too late.”

Fuery didn’t say anything, just nodded in understanding. And then, he looked up at her, making eye contact, and searching her eyes. His brows tented back with a wry, half frown.

“…Does it still hurt, or is it numb now?”

Something in her breath caught, and several different things passed through her eyes. Finally, she simply said “…it depends on the day.”

Fuery nodded taking that in. “Thank you.”

Another moment of silence stretched, before Hawkeye sighed. “Let’s head back.”

“Yessir.”

Hawkeye’s tiredness wasn’t hard to see, and by the time they got back to camp, all she wanted to do was sit down. Instead, she headed towards the dishes, knowing it was her turn to take care of them. Fuery headed off to the campfire. Falman was in his tent. Before she could reach the dishes, though, Breda cut her off.

“Already taken care of, sir,” he said. “Felt restless.”

Hawkeye paused, as if assessing him. “…Thank you,” she finally said and, after a moment, she headed off towards her and Mustang’s tent.

He was in there, looking over his journal, and he looked up when she came in. Hayate looked up as well, tail wagging, and moving closer to her. She looked at them, and then at her sleeping bag. Without a word, she reached down and moved it closer, collapsing down on it. Mustang watched her do it, and shifted just a little bit closer. Hawkeye laid there, Hayate cuddling up with her, and buried her face in his fur.

For a while, the silence stretched on. Finally, Mustang spoke.

“Falman came to me while you were gone.”

She didn’t say anything.

“He wanted to know about your back.”

“…what did you tell him?”

“That your father was my Master, that he was a cruel man, that after I joined the military he tattooed your back, and that after he died you showed it me. I told him that after Ishval you asked me to burn the tattoo off of you, and I did.”

She was quiet. “…what did he say?”

“He was silent for a few moments, then nodded, thanked me, and left.”

Riza hummed.

Mustang was quiet for a moment as well. “…what did you tell Fuery?”

“…about the same.”

“And what did he say?”

She paused. “…he asked me if it hurt.” A beat. “He asked me if it still hurts.”

Roy didn’t say anything. Instead, he sighed, set his journal aside, and laid down next to her. He slipped an arm around her, and for a bit they laid in silence.

“…Hawkeye… I have something I’ve wanted to ask you… And I don’t mean it in any offensive way—”

“No, I don’t blame you for what happened to me as a child. You couldn’t have done anything to change it.”

“I could have stopped him from—”

“I wouldn’t have let you.”

Mustang let out a sigh, but said nothing more on the subject. Instead, the three of them just cuddled, until they finally went to sleep.

The fire was still burning, and Breda and Fuery sat by the fire. Breda was using the light to read by, and Fuery had things to tinker with. The silence, though, stretched on, and Fuery’s items went untouched, the young man taking his gun apart instead. The only sounds were that, and the crackling of the fire. After a moment, though, Breda realized that the sounds of metal tinging had stopped, and he looked up.

Fuery was staring into the fire, his gun in pieces on his lap. It wasn’t too unusual to find Fuery staring off into the distance every so often, but something about this struck a chord of concern in Breda. Very softly, he called “Sarge…?”

Fuery didn’t look at him, but shook his head minutely, murmuring under his breath. “It was her father.”

Silence descended over both of them, stretching on until Breda finally sighed, closed his book, and stood. He passed Fuery, tousling his hair a bit.

“Get some sleep, Fuery. Morning comes sooner than you think.”

Fuery gave a noise of acknowledgement but didn’t move. It wasn’t until several hours later that he finally put his gun back together and went to lay down, even though he was certain that he would not get any sleep.

The next day, again, dawned with tension. Hawkeye seemed to be waiting for something, although no one could quite put their finger on what. It lasted through the morning, stretching into the day, until finally Breda took the opportunity to approach both Hawkeye and Mustang as they were traveling.

“Boss. Hawkeye,” he greeted.

“Breda,” Mustang said back, side-eyeing him. “Is there a problem?”

Breda looked at Hawkeye. “You tell me, sirs.” He said. Hawkeye said nothing, but she did glance at him. Breda held his silence, and finally she sighed.

“What do you mean?” she asked him, tiredness in her voice.

“You’ve been on edge since the other night,” he said. “I get it when it happened, and when none of us knew. But we all know now. We’ve all heard the basics of the story. So why are you still on edge?”

For a moment, Hawkeye didn’t say anything. “Because,” she said, tightness in her voice. “You know. You all know. And the last thing I want is for that to change what you think of me. I don’t want pity from any of you, or to think that I need extra protection. I’ve fought for your respect, and I want to keep it.”

“What?” Breda looked at her, a bit of confusion on his face. “Why would we pity you? This gives you more respect from me,” he said. “There’s not a lot of people who could do what you’ve done.”

She looked at him askance. “…Maybe that’s how you feel, but what about the others.”

Breda snorted. “You’re joking, right? All of us are impressed by you. We’re in shock, of course, and we care about you, so we’re protective, but all of us would follow you into battle in a heartbeat. You’ve not lost any respect. You’ve gained, if anything.”

Mustang shot her a wane smile. “You see?” he said. “I told you that you’ve not lost their respect.”

Hawkeye glanced between the two of them, and then up at the others, and hummed thoughtfully.

When evening came that night, and food was passed out and eaten, instead of heading back to her tent, Riza stayed out around the campfire with the men. Falman played with Fuery’s radio, trying to find something to listen to, while Breda and Roy argued over the finer points chess strategy. At some point, Fuery bumped her elbow and handed her a cup of coffee, which she took, returning his smile. Somehow she ended up settled into Havoc’s side, his arm draped across her shoulders, and she let it be. As she sat there, surrounded by her friends, she realized that Breda had been right. None of them were treating her differently. None of them were giving her pity. She still had their respect. With that thought tipping her lips ups, she settled back, and looked at the stars.

[worryinglyinnocent]

Fic: A Fight in the Shadows (1/16)

Summary: After her grandfather Grumman’s death in mysterious circumstances, private detective Riza Hawkeye receives a letter from him, instructed to be delivered to her after his demise. She is floored to discover he was the head of the Amestrian Intelligence Network, and the secrets he’s found out are deep and dangerous. He mentions a conspiracy within the military, and instructs her to gather together a group of individuals he trusts to assist her in continuing his work.

To say that they’re a rag-tag bunch is putting it kindly, but when they finally get their act together and delve into the mystery, they uncover something that will shake the very foundations of Amestris…

An espionage AU with some core canon elements.

Rated: T

==

A Fight in the Shadows

[AO3]

One

Roy

In all of her years working as a private detective, Riza had learned that one really ought to expect the unexpected, especially in a place like Amestris, and especially in a place like Central City. It took a lot to phase her; working on the principle that she had already seen everything there was to see and that whatever latest Central Weirdness was about to arrive at her door, it couldn’t be any weirder than everything she had already dealt with. 

That said, she really wasn’t expecting to get a letter from her grandfather a week after he died. 

Riza knew that her grandfather had died. She had been the one the hospital had called to identify his body, and she had certainly identified it beyond all reasonable doubt as Charles Grumman. Now, she had indeed come across cases of people faking their deaths before, but she had no reason to assume that this was what her grandfather had done. He had no earthly reason to do so. He had spent his entire life working as an unimportant pen-pushing bureaucrat in some backroom government department in Eastern, and he had died in a car accident. That was all there was to it. 

The letter, however, implied that there was definitely more to it than Riza anticipated. 

It was definitely from Grumman. She recognised the same handwriting that had left odd little flowery messages in her birthday cards for as long as she could remember. Sitting there so innocently on her desk where she had brought it in unknowingly with the rest of the mail, it seemed to be hiding a multitude of secrets. 

The most logical explanation, of course, was that it had been written and sent prior to his demise and had just been delayed in the post. There was nothing suspicious about that. 

Except, of course, for the fact that her grandfather never wrote to her except for the aforementioned birthday cards. And he certainly never addressed the letters as ‘private and confidential, for the eyes of R. HAWKEYE only’. 

Riza was beginning to think that perhaps he had faked his death after all. She sighed. Whatever was in the letter, she knew that the moment she opened it, she was going to end up getting into something far deeper than she had any intention of getting into anything, and it would be a one way trip. She would not be able to back out. A part of her was screaming to just burn the letter and pretend it had never arrived, and then go on with her day. Another part was telling her that whether she read it or not, she was involved now – Grumman had ensured that from the moment he had sent it. 

She snatched up the letter before she could second guess herself and sliced it open with such force that Hayate gave a worried yelp, perhaps concerned that she would turn the letter opener on him next. 

It was from Grumman all right. Riza sank down into her desk chair as she read the tightly packed text that proved to her once and for all that there were some unexpected things that really could never be expected, and that she had not, in fact, seen everything. 

To the outside observer, the letter would have been gibberish. It was gibberish to Riza herself until she remembered how much her grandfather had always loved word games. He had been creating codes for her to play with ever since she could read and write; it had always been their little thing that they could bond over, something that she could keep secret from her father and have as wholly her own.

Grumman hadn’t written to her in code for a very long time, not since her teen years, but she had still kept all the ciphers he had created with her, including the most complicated one that she had been so proud of creating. She recognised some of it in the letter, and she settled down with a pencil and the main cipher, beginning the painstaking task of decoding it all character by character.

With the deciphering complete, she read the letter through three times before the true meaning of it really started to sink in, and she knew that Grumman had definitely got her involved with something she could not back out of, and she was already in it up to her neck. 

At least she was now fairly certain that he had not faked his death, even though she now knew that he was not, and never had been, an unimportant pen-pushing bureaucrat. No, no. In life, Charles Grumman had been the head of the Amestrian Intelligence Service. 

In short, her grandfather had not only been a spy, he’d been the most important spy in the country.

At least that explained his preoccupation with secret codes. It hadn’t just been an odd fancy to keep her entertained. He had been training her up to follow in his footsteps and ensuring that if something ever happened, like it had indeed just happened, then he had someone he could trust and a code no-one else knew how to break.

Riza leaned heavily on the desk and began on the letter for the fourth time, still not quite believing what she was reading. 

My dear Riza,

If you are reading this letter, then I am dead. The circumstances will probably look like natural causes or an accident, but they will have been anything but. I am leaving this letter in the care of a trusted associate, to be delivered in the event of my untimely demise. 

I don’t know if you ever suspected the true nature of my profession at any point, but the time has come to be candid with you. I am, and have always been, an intelligence operative. I am a spy for the Amestrian Intelligence Service, and it is as a result of this intelligence that I have found myself in a very dangerous position. 

I know it is unfair of me to put this onto your young shoulders and put you into this same dangerous position, but in this profession you learn to trust few and trust even fewer with your life. I think I may have trusted the wrong people, but I have always trusted you. You are a bloodhound, Riza, and I know that you will sniff out those responsible for my death and continue the work that I have started, exposing the terrible truth that underpins the entirety of Amestris, because I know I have only just begun to scratch the surface of what is going on in our country. 

There are a few individuals whom I do trust to assist you, and I advise you to find and make use of their many and varied talents. To make things easier, I have also sent a letter like this one to the first of these contacts. I don’t know if you have kept up with the career of your father’s former student, but you must have heard in among of the renown of the one they call the Flame Alchemist. Roy Mustang is in fact an intelligence operative like myself and is my most trusted subordinate. He has his own off-book network who should provide you with a wide range of skills you may need. 

If all has gone to plan, Mustang should be arriving in Eastern on the day you receive this letter…

Riza remembered Roy Mustang. They’d practically lived in each other’s pockets for the two years that he had been apprenticed under her father, learning the secrets of flame alchemy. There had been talk of him joining the military academy (and of course, her father’s reaction to that particular suggestion had been well-documented), but when the time came, he had chosen a different path, and after his training was finished and he had left the Hawkeye home for the final time, Riza had not seen him again.

A part of her had always wondered what he had ended up doing. After her father’s death she had not kept up with the gossip and rumours in the alchemy circles. After everything that had happened, she had wanted to keep as far away from it all as possible. Almost unconsciously, she reached around behind her, touching the small of her back as if she could still feel the sharp sting of the needle there as her father bound her up indelibly with his research. 

So no, she had not heard of the renown of the Flame Alchemist. At least now she knew what Roy had been up to in the intervening years. She had been glad when he had decided not to go into the military, but at the same time, the line that he seemed to have walked instead seemed scarcely better. 

Riza shook herself. She was one to talk; her own profession didn’t exactly bring her along the most morally upstanding path, and there was a good deal of espionage in what she did on a daily basis, although following cheating husbands and finding evidence seemed pretty tame compared to national intelligence work. Still, she was in no position to judge what Roy and her grandfather did. 

Roy… It must be nearly ten years since she had last seen him. It was his hands that she remembered above everything else. She had always tried to put that down to an upbringing steeped in alchemy; whilst some people noticed height or build or hair colour or eye colour, alchemists tended to look at hands as the first thing of note. Their hands were their craft, after all, be they gloved or tattooed or bare. Roy had typically worn spark gloves towards the end of his training. Her father, ever the traditionalist, had disapproved at first, but had eventually been talked around to the practicalities of not needing an ignition source on hand all the time - or rather, having an ignition source literally on hand all the time. 

At the beginning, though, when he had still been learning, his hands had been bare, his fingers long and tapered. They were always warm, his hands, and Riza had never known if that was from the flame alchemy or if he was just naturally like that. She remembered the touch of his fingertips on her back, and immediately felt her cheeks colour up. There had been nothing like that between them, but since Riza was the canvas for the full array and her father had destroyed the rest of his research for fear of it falling into the wrong hands, she had felt that Roy needed to see it. 

He was still the only person who’d ever seen her bare back, and she didn’t think she’d ever forget that little gasp that he gave when he saw it: admiring the beauty of the craftsmanship and shocked that it had been crafted on living skin - her living skin - at the same time. 

She’d been seventeen then, embarrassed at being half-naked in front of a boy, even if they’d been friends for over a year and he couldn’t see anything from the front. Even more embarrassing was how much she’d found that she really wouldn’t mind feeling those warm fingertips in other places. 

Riza groaned, crumpling Grumman’s letter up into a ball and knocking her forehead against her desk a few times. She hadn’t thought about Roy for years, and she had long since got over her silly teenage crush on him, figuring that of course she’d ended up feeling that way about him because he was the only member of the opposite sex other than her father and grandfather that she ever had any interaction with at the time. It was bound to happen from the sheer novelty value if nothing else. 

She really didn’t need to be reminded of it now. Not when she was about to get unwillingly dragged into the world of international espionage and investigate her grandfather’s murder. The last thing she needed to be thinking about was whether Roy’s hands were still as warm as they had always been before.

Riza sighed, pushed all thoughts of Roy Mustang very firmly out of her head, and straightened out Grumman’s letter again, tucking it into the chest pocket of her shirt. Every single spy novel she’d ever read (now her grandfather’s extensive collection made a certain ironic sense) was telling her that she ought to burn it, but she was not in the habit of memorising letters having only had them in her hands for a few minutes, so it would have to stay on her person for now. Besides, she might need to compare notes with Roy. Drat, now she was thinking about him again. 

If he was arriving into Eastern, where she was to go herself in just a few short hours, then Grumman had probably instructed him to go to the funeral, so at least Riza wouldn’t need to look for him since her grandfather had given no further hints as to where he might be found. Hopefully, Roy would have a few more clues as to what needed to be done. The rest of the letter had detailed several more people that Grumman wanted her to recruit, and she would likely need Roy’s connections to do so. This was not a simple investigation by any stretch of the imagination. 

Riza dragged herself away from her desk, Hayate padding along at her heels as she went to pack a bag for the trip to Eastern. Grumman’s funeral was the next morning. As much as she wished it was sooner so that she could get some answers, she also wanted to put it off as long as possible. 

What had he got her into?

X

The funeral was a fairly standard affair. Riza was Grumman’s closest family left, and even then, they had not been all that close in recent years. She didn’t recognise any of the other people gathered around the grave and making a polite show of mourning, but she assumed that they were people who had known her grandfather. She idly wondered how many of them were spies, or if they were all under the impression, like she had been, that he was a harmless old man sitting in a back office somewhere. 

As she’d suspected, Roy was there. He didn’t join the main group, hanging back in the shade of a tree and watching from afar. He hadn’t changed much. His face and shoulders had filled out from the slightly gawky nineteen year old he’d been when she’d last seen him, but he was still instantly recognisable as Roy. He wasn’t looking in her direction, more staring into the middle distance, and Riza wondered if he had noticed that she was there and recognised her. She didn’t think she’d changed all that much either. Her hair was longer now, but that was about it.

A small part of her, in the back of her mind, was annoyed that he’d turned up and was so obvious, because now she couldn’t stop glancing over at him every five seconds and she couldn’t concentrate on the service. Not that she’d really been concentrating on it before she’d noticed Roy. Something in the back of her mind kept telling her that whoever had killed her grandfather might have sent someone to his funeral to make sure that he was actually in his grave, and now she was looking around at all the unfamiliar faces and wondering which of them, if any, she should trust. 

At last it was over and people started moving away from the graveside. Riza hung back for what she hoped was a respectful amount of time, making small talk with the minister, and when she did finally walk away, she saw that Roy was waiting for her. She made her way over to him and they moved away from his tree. He smiled as she approached. She remembered that smile.

“Hello, Riza. It’s been a long time.”

“Hi. Thanks for coming. How’ve you been keeping all this time?”

“Oh, you know. Here and there, this and that.” If there was ever a more ‘if I told you I’d have to kill you’ answer, Riza had yet to hear it. “Keeping busy. What about you? Grumman told me you went into private investigations.”

“Yes. It’s interesting work. I’ve always been fascinated with solving puzzles. I suppose that’s why…” She tailed off, and there was a long pause. How did one go about starting a conversation about secret messages and secret agents with a secret agent? Thankfully, Roy saved her the trouble.

“I assume you received a letter.”

“Yes, I did.”

“What did you do with it?”

“It’s… on my person.” She didn’t tell him she’d stuffed it in her bra as the most secure place she could think of.

“Fair enough.”

Riza stopped suddenly, causing Roy to stop as well and turn back to her.

“Should we really be discussing all this out in the open like this?”

Roy nodded. “It’s the best place to discuss things. There’s a reason why all the important conversations in the novels take place on park benches or looking out over rivers on misty bridges. The misty bridges are a bit romantic, but it’s always better to talk outdoors. It’s easy to bug a room and listen in, but it’s much easier to see if you’re being watched or followed out here in a nice, quiet, open location.”

That made sense, and Riza fell into step beside Roy again as they continued to walk through the cemetery. There was no one else around.

“Have you got any idea what’s going on?” she asked. “I’ve got a list of people who can help, but it’s not going to be much good if I don’t even know what they’re supposed to be helping with.”

Roy shook his head. “No, you probably know more than me at this stage. My instructions were just to help you in any way I could. So, I guess my services are at your command.”

“Grumman mentioned you had a secret network.”

“Yes. I’ve already contacted them. They mostly work out of Central, as I believe you do too. We can meet them in a few days. I have a safe meeting place there.”

“Oh. Ok.” At least Roy seemed to have his side of the plan all figured out. Maybe once she met this mysterious network and worked out what skills she had at her disposal, she’d have a better plan for what to do next. 

They fell into silence for a long time again. Ordinarily Riza knew the basic etiquette for making small talk with someone you hadn’t seen for a decade. You asked about their family, you talked about the weather, you nodded politely in all the right places. But Roy was more than someone she hadn’t seen in a decade, and both their lives were so steeped in subterfuge and solitude that nothing seemed right as she thought it. That was probably what led to the next words out of her mouth.

“You know, I think that you’re actually the worst secret agent in the world.”

Roy laughed. “Oh really? And what makes you think that?”

“All the time you were standing under that tree, I couldn’t take my eyes off you, and I’m sure that there were a few other people who couldn’t either. You weren’t exactly inconspicuous. I thought spying was all about blending into the background.”

“It is, until it isn’t. Sometimes you need to be noticed and draw attention to yourself. Besides, there are two ways to follow someone. The first way, they never see you. The second way, they only see you.”

Riza felt her blood run cold, and she looked over her shoulder. There was still no one around besides her and Roy; everyone else had gone the more direct route out of the cemetery after the service was over. 

All the same, his words were not at all reassuring.

[fullmetalscullyy]

a spark

this was an idea i originally had for royai week this year but it fell through. however i’ve been working on it and managed to salvage the idea at least! hope you enjoy some young!royai 💖

rated: g | words: 2013 | warnings: none

read on ao3 | read on ffnet

Riza paused during her monthly task of weeding the garden. Her head cocked to the side as she listened carefully, trying to determine what the quiet noise was that she suddenly heard. It was like a rustling… No, it was harsher than that. There was the odd pop every now and then.

“Yes,” Roy hissed in triumph.

Then, there were hurried footsteps.

Her eyes settled on the form that came careening around the corner of her house. Roy skidded to a stop with a goofy grin on his face. His short hair was tousled in the breeze as he left the shelter of the house’s walls. Some parts were sticking up, held in place by sweat, as rivulets of it ran down his soot covered face. Riza’s stomach flipped at the sight of him. Despite the smile on his face, Riza was worried something had gone wrong. His arrival was so sudden and so rushed that it startled her. She was concerned, and when it came to Roy being left unattended with alchemy, her worry was valid.

“I did it,” he grinned.

Riza knew exactly what he was referring too. Sitting back on her heels, pride surged through her.

It had taken a few weeks, but he’d managed it.

Without a word Riza stood and approached him, watching as his smile grew wider. His eyes were twinkling with excitement.

“Come and see!” Roy’s stride was long and his steps purposeful as he walked to the other side of the house.

Dutifully, Riza followed, also excited to see what he’d created with his alchemy. Rounding the corner of her home, she saw a small fire nestled in between a tight clump of sticks.

Roy grinned at her, gesturing towards the flames with one hand on his hips. “What do you think?”

He’d finally created fire with alchemy.

She’d helped him with that, Roy kept reminding her. He always gushed about how thankful he was for Riza showing him her father’s research. Riza brushed it off quietly, telling him not to worry. That it was no problem.

Riza hadn’t been afraid to show him her father’s notes, however she was afraid of the way her body had reacted to him lightly caressing her skin as he looked closer and took notes. It was embarrassing, in a way. She was completely bare to him and it felt like he was seeing every inch of her. Not only that, his breath on her back had lifted every hair on her body. His touch was warm and gentle as he traced parts of the design, tickling her. It had felt like torture to Riza. The skin of her back tinkled and her stomach flipped at every brush of his fingers.

He’d grown up after leaving to go to the academy, but so had she. Her body had changed over the years, and hormones were running rampant within her. It was the most bothersome predicament Riza found herself in. Squashing it down should have been easy, she thought, but the care he showed her every time she exposed her back and the gentleness of his touch and his voice caused it to soar right back up the surface. Over time his tenderness made the whole ordeal easier to deal with. She became more comfortable around him.

However, she was just a teenager. At eighteen it was just a silly little crush on an older boy that would disappear in time, Riza was sure of it. He’s only here for the alchemy, a voice in her head whispered. She told herself that excuse to get herself through it. They’d been friends, sure, but ultimately his goal was to attain her father’s alchemy. His master’s sad, lonely daughter didn’t matter in the grand scheme of things. After a few nights of telling herself that, the supressing of her emotions became slightly easier.

They hadn’t spoken too much after he’d assessed the tattoo on her back. He was busy trying to decipher it and Riza didn’t want to disturb him. As he tried to work through it, he showed her notes over dinner and it looked incredibly complicated to Riza. She could not fathom how he’d managed to decode the notes, but knew that if anyone would be able to, it would be him. Nevertheless, it was an impressive feat. She nodded along and was always open to hearing him discuss it. Riza didn’t mind because she enjoyed his company immensely. It was a welcome change from the usual silence she faced.

Apart from those moments, he was solely focussed on trying to create fire with alchemy. Riza had expected him to take residence in her father’s office – and was rather afraid he would – but he set up his study area in their living area. He poured over notes as Riza moved around him, keeping herself busy with mending projects around the house and skinning animals she’d caught in the forest for dinner.

“It’s all thanks to you,” he murmured. Roy blushed, then dipped his head, looking back at the fire.

Riza paused. “N – No,” she stammered. “You did all the work. Well done,” she congratulated. “You did it!” Her stomach was flipping again, and she cursed her hormones and her stupid crush. Damn feelings!

“Riza?”

Her breath caught in her throat as she set her eyes upon his own. They were dark, but the light of the fire and the sun was dancing within them.

“Thank you.” The sincerity in his tone was clear as day. However, there was a softness to it as well.

It caused her to pause again, enraptured by the feeling behind it and the smile on his face. She nodded stiffly and forced her smile. She’d been caught off guard. “Of course, Mr. Mustang.”

He blinked at her and his shoulders fell slightly in defeat.

Riza swallowed in response but turned her gaze away. That title kept distance between them like her father always wanted. It meant Roy could focus on his goal and his research and she could silently bury then get over her frightening childish feelings.

“I’m proud of you,” she added. “I really am. You finally did it.”

“I did,” he admitted, but his tone felt sombre.

Riza never looked back at him after she heard the shift in his mood but did wonder what he was thinking. Why did he sound so sad? She felt regret tighten her gut. She didn’t want to cause that for him, especially during what should be such a proud moment.

“Would you… Would you like to join me by the fire for a while?” His eyes were earnest, almost pleading with her to say yes.

Riza was a sucker for that look on him, especially right now, so found herself nodding slowly. “Yes,” she whispered. “I – I would love to.” She cringed at her word choice, but it was out there now. She felt it was too strong.

They settled themselves on the grass, on opposite sides of the flames and facing each other. He stoked the fire with a stick, then a frown crossed his face.

“What is it?” Riza’s question was wary.

“Would you like to see how I did it? I feel like I should show you.” Roy placed the stick on the ground. “You’re the reason this even happened, after all.”

“Yes. Of course,” she nodded, fighting off a blush. “If you want to.”

An uncomfortable feeling had settled over her. She shifted in place, noticing that was a foreign feeling when in Roy Mustang’s presence. Usually it was always the opposite. He’d only ever showed her kindness and friendship, and Riza had welcomed that wholeheartedly in her isolation in that house. However, she’d brought this on herself, she supposed, by referring him to his title. But it was necessary. Just because she felt it was necessary though, didn’t mean she had to like it.

The fire was doused, and Roy flipped the wood around, removing the charred remains from the centre, where the fire would be lit once more. Settling back in the grass, Roy steadied himself then focussed. Lifting the ignition cloth Riza had found at the market earlier that week, he exhaled then rubbed it together gently with his fingers. Riza held her breath, her eyes widening on their own accord as a spark ignited. Roy’s frown deepened and he set his jaw, shifting his position. Once more, he rubbed the fabric together and a spark jumped this time, catching onto the wood. The embers burned then flames sprang into the air, licking greedily at the sticks.

“Oh my,” Riza gasped. She leaned forward, peering at the fire, and wonder surged through her. After all his hard work and perseverance, after all she’d gone through for him to get the knowledge he required, Roy was finally able to create fire from his fingertips.

It was an incredible thing to experience.

“You… You were able to create a spark… Almost with the snap of your fingers,” Riza marvelled.

Roy cocked his head to the side, regarding her for a second longer. “A snap of my fingers,” he muttered to himself.

“What?”

His head righted, coming back to centre. “I never thought about that before.” That excitement from before returned slowly, lighting up his face.

“Never thought about what?”

“Snapping my fingers!”

Roy jumped up to his feet, putting out the fire. Riza jumped as some of the water splashed her legs, but she didn’t mind too much. The day was hot enough that it would dry quickly. She was more curious and concerned about his sudden frantic actions.

“What –?”

“You said ‘with the snap of my fingers’,” Roy replied as if that answered all of her questions.

He picked up the ignition cloth and instead of rubbing the fabric, he snapped his thumb and forefinger together. Before, the spark had been slow as he rubbed the sheets of the cloth together. This time, it was instant, springing forth to the sticks almost immediately. Riza jumped in fright, scrambling back from the sudden fire that appeared before her.

“With a snap of my fingers,” he grinned at her. Roy’s eyes were wide, and he was ecstatic. Then, he laughed quietly to himself. “Once again, you have the best ideas, Riza!”

She felt her cheeks heating up slightly and cursed herself. However, she was still pleased she’d helped.

“Thanks,” he beamed.

Riza was stunned at the sight of his smile. A warmth spread through her, and it was different from the other feelings she’d been having recently, the ones she’d dubbed as “stupid”. It reminded her first and foremost that he was her friend. He’d always tried to be there for her to the best of his ability. Riza hadn’t opened herself up to him as much as she realised she’d wanted to in the past. Hindsight was all seeing after all, and witnessing the happiness on his face in this wonderful moment reminded her of that. She was proud of him.

“Anytime, Roy,” she replied, almost shyly.

After she spoke his first name and dropped all titles, Riza didn’t think it was even possible, but his smile grew even wider.

“Come on,” he urged. “Let’s get something to celebrate.”

“Like what?”

Roy shrugged. “I’ll make something. Or go into town and buy something. We should have cake!” His hands clapped together in glee.

“A cake?” Riza wasn’t even sure if he knew how to cook something simple like soup, never mind bake a cake.

Roy grinned. “I’ll make you a cake to show my appreciation and to thank you for all you’ve done for me.”

Get distance –!

“I… I would really like that,” she admitted.

Roy almost ran into the house while Riza remained sitting on the grass. Then, her smile fell, and dread settled in her stomach. She suddenly remembered the last time he’d tried to cook something. Jumping to her feet, Riza sprinted into the house, hearing him banging about with pots and pans in the kitchen.

She didn’t need him almost burning down the house again.

[artificialqueens]

The Breakup (Biadore) - Whiskey Neat

A/N: Surprise, surprise, Adore is sad again! Just a note that as the writer I refer to them as Roy and Adore but they mostly refer to each other as Bianca and Danny in the story. I hope that makes sense. Also, Kristian is Adore’s ex in real life for anyone who doesn’t know. Enjoy!

Roy was having a great night. He went out to eat at a nice restaurant, spent some time with friends, and even went to a drag show. He always thought the shows were a lot more enjoyable when he had the night off. Now, he was at his friend John’s apartment feeling happy and content, finishing a movie they had started watching a few days before but never finished. 

Adore’s night on the other hand, hadn’t gone anything like that. She had gotten in drag for a date with her boyfriend Kristian and they ended up not even going out like they had planned. He declined Adore’s invite to meet at her apartment, insisting they just stay in his hotel room because they “needed to talk.” When she heard that, Adore knew something was up and anxiety grew in the pit of her stomach the closer to his hotel room she got. 

Knocking on the door, she heard rustling from inside the room. Kristian soon opened the door and gave Adore a sad smile. “Hey”

“What’s going on?” Adore asked, as her boyfriend took her hand and gently pulled her into the room. 

He sat her down on the bed and sat himself down next to her. “We need to talk…" 

“About?” Adore asked, mentally preparing herself for the worst. 

“Us." 

Even though that’s what she was expecting to hear, the one word answer made Adore’s eyes burn and her heart drop into her stomach. 

”….Okay….what about us?“ She asked wearily. 

"I don’t know how to tell you this in a way that won’t hurt so I’m just gonna say it…I don’t think I’m in love with you anymore.” Kristian told her, not being able to meet her eyes after he said it. 

“I-I…okay…” Adore trailed off, looking down and blinking back tears. “Is there something I did wrong or-" 

He grabbed her hands "No, no, no! It wasn’t anything you did. I promise. I just kind of…lost feelings. Being away from you so much really affected me. It sucks that I live in Australia and you live here in LA. We don’t see each other often enough and it’s hard for me to keep feelings strong in situations like this. It wouldn’t be fair to either of us to stay in this relationship if the feelings aren’t the same." 

"How long have you felt like this?” Adore asked, not even sure if she wanted to know the answer. 

“A month, maybe. It’s hard not being around you a lot and getting to experience things with you like I should. The separation is just too much. You deserve someone that can be here and love you like you want them to and I can’t be that person anymore. So I just think it’s best if we stop seeing each other. I want you to be happy, Adore." 

"Kris, I can fly you out here more or-or I can fly there or we could-” Adore rambled. 

“Adore” Kristian said grabbing her by the shoulders to shut her up, “I’m sorry…I just don’t feel the same about you as I used to.”

Adore was silent for a moment before standing up and wiping her cheeks. “Okay…if that’s how you really feel then I guess I should go." 

Kristian got up and followed her to the door. "I’m sorry Adore, I wish things were different" 

She stepped out into the hallway and turned to face him. "Yeah, me too.” She said, hating how badly her voice shook. 

Kristian stood in the doorway for a few moments before closing the door. Before it closed all the way he heard Adore say “I was happy with you." 

He took one last glance at her and closed the door the rest of the way, signaling that he didn’t want anything to do with her anymore. That caused Adore’s already fragile heart to shatter into pieces. What was she supposed to do now? She couldn’t just have a mental breakdown in the hotel hallway in full drag. Adore pulled out her phone and ordered a Lyft to take her to the see the one person she knew could help her put her heart back together. 

Adore arrived outside of Roy’s apartment 20 minutes later, knocking a few times and waiting. She heard Sammy and Dede barking excitedly on the other side of the door but no one seemed to be answering. Great, she thought. Roy isn’t even home. 

The lump in her throat grew and she could feel her breakdown coming closer by the minute. She knew where Roy kept the spare key, so this technically would be a situation where she had the right to let herself in, wouldn’t it? At this point she didn’t even care. Adore dug around in the potted plant next to the door until her fingertips touched the small metal key. 

Squeezing it in her palm, she stood back up, unlocked the door, and stepped inside the dark apartment. The dogs greeted her excitedly but not even that could lift Adore’s spirits. Not even bothering to say hi to the adorable little creatures, she headed straight to the couch and curled up in fetal position, finally letting herself cry and cry. 

Before she knew it, the two small dogs had joined her on the couch. Sammy cuddled up under her arm while Dede climbed right on top of her and began licking the salty tears off her cheeks, the pure innocence of the gesture making her cry even more. It was like they understood she was upset, and for that Adore was grateful. At least this way she didn’t have to be completely alone while Roy was out. Animals always had a special way of calming her anyway. 

Eventually Dede stopped licking Adore’s face and laid down behind her, nuzzling herself into the long black wig Adore hadn’t bothered to take off, and rested her head on the side of Adore’s face. Adore didn’t mind, accepting any form of comfort she could possibly get as she cried herself to sleep. 

About an hour later Roy had finally left John’s place and was back at his apartment. He walked in the door and was greeted with silence. ”That’s strange” Roy thought. His dogs always came running to greet him, barking loudly. He set his keys down, turned the light on, and crept down the hall.

From the dim light in the hallway shining into the room, Roy could see his beloved dogs laying on the couch, cuddling the form of a person. Not knowing who the person was at first, Roy panicked a little. But he figured he must know them because no robber would break in just to take a nap with his dogs…would they?

Tiptoeing closer, Roy was able to see a tattooed arm that he quickly realized belonged to Adore. Roy sighed in relief as he closed the distance between himself and the sleeping queen, wondering why Adore would break into his apartment at 1 in the morning. 

Roy wanted to be mad at her, but once he brushed Adore’s hair off her face he was able to see the dried tears and mascara stains that resided there. “Oh no baby, what happened to you?” He asked even though Adore wasn’t awake to answer.  

Adore shivered in her sleep so Roy left her side to go get a blanket from his bedroom. When he came back, Adore still appeared to be asleep. Roy draped the blanket over her and stepped back, patting his legs and saying to the dogs, “come on, let’s let her sleep” but they didn’t budge. Sammy stayed still and Dede looked up, whined quietly, and burrowed her head back into Adore’s hair. 

“Suit yourselves” Roy shrugged. 

Just as Roy turned to leave the room, he heard a voice say “he doesn’t love me anymore” so quietly he was almost sure he imagined it. 

“What?” He asked, turning back around. 

“He doesn’t love me anymore” Adore repeated, voice cracking this time. 

Roy rushed over to her and Adore sat up, being careful to not disturb the half-asleep dogs too much as she did so.  

“Who doesn’t love you, Adore?” Roy asked, sitting down and letting Adore rest her head in his lap. 

“Kristian…h-he broke up with me because he stopped…he stopped being in love with me” Adore said, taking a shaky breath. 

“Adore, I’m so sorry” Roy said, stroking her hair.

Adore rolled onto her back and looked up at Roy “He. Stopped. Loving. Me. Bianca.” She repeated for the fourth time, as if she was trying to make herself believe it even more than Roy. 

“I know baby, I’m sorry” was all Roy could say before it suddenly fully clicked in Adore’s brain that her relationship was actually over. It was all true. Kristian didn’t love her. He didn’t want her. No one wanted her. 

Adore’s face screwed up and she rolled onto her side so she could hide her face in the bottom part of Roy’s shirt. 

Roy pulled the top half of Adore’s body up so he could embrace her properly. Adore then buried her head in Roy’s neck so close that he could feel her eyelashes brushing against his skin when she blinked. 

“Shhhh, it’s okay, you’re gonna be okay, shhhh” he said as he kept rubbing her back and whispering more words of comfort in her ear while she continued to cry.  

Eventually her sobs died down and she just sniffled once in a while. “You’re okay” Roy said, as Adore inhaled deeply and pulled back, wiping underneath her eyes with her shirt sleeve. 

“I really thought he was the one.” Adore said in a hoarse voice as she fell back into Roy’s chest. “I never knew what being in an actual relationship felt like until I met him. I thought he was the person I’d spend the rest of my life with but now he doesn’t even want me, Bianca. I think I’m unlovable.”  

“You’re not unlovable.” Roy said firmly. 

“Then why does this always happen to me?! People only pretend to love me because they wanna fuck me and after that happens they leave. And even if someone really does love me, it doesn’t last. They always seem to lose feelings and just drop me like I’m nothing!” Adore ranted, eyes welling up again. “I just want someone to love me.”

That last sentence broke her heart all over again and she dissolved into tears for what felt like the hundredth time that night. 

“Adore…Danny look at me.” Roy said, pushing the crying queen off of him and holding her face in his hands so she’d look him in the eye. 

“You are not unlovable, Danny. People treating you like that just goes to show that they don’t deserve you. You’ll find the right person someday and it’ll be the best feeling in the world. I know you will. Someone will love you the way you want them to and treat you right….someone like me.” Roy told her, not even realizing he said the last part until it was too late. 

Adore sniffled. “I’m sorry I can’t believe you, I just don’t think that’s pos-…wait what?“ 

Roy’s cheeks burned with a mix of embarrassment and fear. "What?" 

"Th-the last part…what did you say?” Adore asked, looking confused. 

“I said you’ll find someone to love you and treat you right…” Bianca hesitated. 

“No not that…theLAST part, B. What did you say?” Adore pressed on, staring into Roy’s brown eyes with her big, shiny green ones. 

“I said you’ll find someone to love you and treat you right” he repeated before quietly adding, “someone like me." 

Adore’s mouth dropped open and she quickly sat up and knelt next to Roy and stared at him while Roy looked away, unable to handle the fact that Adore was probably going to slap him across the face and walk out of his life forever. 

"I- you- what?” Adore stuttered, mouth still hanging open.  

Roy reached up and closed it for her before saying, “You heard me." 

"You…you love me? Like really love me? Like more than just the friend kind?” Adore asked in disbelief. 

“There you go, now you’re getting it.” Roy said sarcastically, tapping Adore’s forehead with his pointer finger a few times to jokingly signal that she was a little slow. 

“Why didn’t you tell me?!" 

"I was afraid. I didn’t think you would ever feel the same way because you’re so young and I’m so…not. I’ve loved you since we met on Drag Race. I know I can, and do, love you the way you want someone to and I know I can treat you right and always be there for you if you’ll let me.” Bianca told her. “And even if you don’t feel the same, that doesn’t mean I’m going to stop being here for you. I’ll always have your back whether we’re just friends or more than friends." 

"You’re not lying just to make me feel better?” Adore questioned, still not believing that Roy was capable of feeling this way towards her. 

“You know I’d never lie to you, Danny.” He replied. 

Adore’s chin trembled and she wrapped her arms around Roy and buried her face back in his neck. Roy hugged her in return and could soon feel more of Adore’s tears dripping onto his chest. 

“Hey, wait! That wasn’t supposed to make you cry!” Roy exclaimed. 

“I know, I’m sorry. Crying is kinda my natural reaction to everything if you haven’t realized.” She gave a half-hearted laugh. “It’s just a lot to take in…I don’t know what to say” Adore said, wiping her tears again.

“It’s okay, I don’t want you to say anything until this breakup thing blows over and you can think clearly. I just wanted you to know right now that it’s not impossible for someone to love you like that." 

"Thanks B, that means a lot to me.” Adore said as she and Roy made themselves comfortable and the two dogs, who had retreated to the other end of the couch, joined them again and they all fell asleep. 

The next morning Adore woke up alone on the couch. She could hear Roy making breakfast and talking to his dogs in the kitchen.

Instead of going straight to the kitchen, she first headed to the bathroom to wash off all the remnants of Adore that were still on her face and become Danny again. 

After he removed his makeup and threw his now tangled wig on Roy’s bed, he stole a t-shirt and sweatpants from Roy’s closet and put them on. Then the fresh-faced and comfortably dressed Danny made his way to the kitchen. 

“Morning sleeping beauty” Roy said as Danny walked into the room. 

Danny didn’t say anything. Instead, he walked straight over to Roy and pressed their lips together. Roy squeaked in surprise but gently brought a hand up to Danny’s jaw and continued the kiss. 

It was a long kiss. Roy savored the feeling of having Danny’s plump lips against his own but soon realized that they shouldn’t be doing this right now. Danny literally just got out of a relationship yesterday. 

“Danny, we shouldn’t do this yet” Roy told him, breaking the kiss. “It’s too soon." 

"No, I made up my mind. I want to be with you, Bianca.” Danny said. “I’m gonna to let you love me how you want to and I’m gonna love you even more in return." 

"Are you sure? It’s only been one night, Danny. I want you to be su-" 

Danny cut him off with another kiss. "Was I sure when I promised my fans I was coming back to YouTube?”  

“Dan…you never did that" 

Danny bit his lip. "Oh fuck, you’re right…sorry I’m not good at analogies”  

“I’m surprised you even know what that word means” Roy said, as he rolled his eyes. 

“Fuck off! Now listen, I mean it Bianca. I’m 100% sure about this, okay? I’m ready to try having a relationship with you if you are.” Danny said seriously. 

“Can’t say no to that!” Roy grinned as he pulled Danny in for yet another kiss. 

[chicagocityofclans]

Harry Reeves → Miles Teller  → Warlock

→ Basic Information 

Age: 105

Gender: Male

Sexuality: Straight

Powers: Ergokinesis

Birthday: February 14th

Zodiac Sign: Pisces

Religion: Agnostic

Mark: Unknown

Generation: 3rd

→ His Personality

(one to two paragraphs)

→ His Personal Facts

Occupation: Energy Supplier for the Underground (Secret)

Scars: None.

Tattoos: None.

Two Likes: Showering and Relaxing 

Two Dislikes: The Flea Market (Underground) and Potions (Radiation Symptoms)

Two Fears: Technophobia and Insomnia

Two Hobbies: Watching Movies and Listening to Music

Three Positive Traits: Allocentric, Relaxed, Suave

Three Negative Traits: Lazy, Sly, Dependent

→ His Connections

Parent Names:

Hazel Reeves (Mother): After Hazel and Augustine divorced, she fell in love with Cain, a vampire, while on a trip to Chicago. Harry didn’t have anywhere else to go and decided to follow his mom here. They are close, but Hazel has been acting much wilder since the divorce, and he hopes that Cain doesn’t get burned in the process.

Augustine Reeves (Father): Augustine still lives in Ottawa, where Harry grew up. He has been trying to get his son to move back to him with the promise of a job at his company, but Harry doesn’t really want to go back. 

Cain Kahn (Stepfather): Harry was a bit uncomfortable with his mom moving on so fast at first, but he genuinely likes Cain more than his dad. He’s nice to his mom and has made a lot of connections for Harry. 

Sibling Names:

None

Children Names:

None

Romantic Connections:

Penelope Le Petite (Ex Girlfriend): He thought Penny and he might have a chance at the long haul, but they broke up the day before she began her menteeship in Berlin. She said it was the distance, but he knew she was self conscious of being a Wilhelm dating a warlock. 

Rachel Sloane (Crush): He met Rachel a few months back, while she was hanging out at the Underground Restaurant. He’d come down from unloading power for the Hotel Winona and was starving. They started talking after he’d gotten his order and he stayed for hours. He’d found out she was new and some of her interests and it felt human and normal, despite them being immortals. He swings by the restaurant every night, just in case she’s there and he could talk to her again. 

Platonic Connections:

Scorpius Getta (Boss): Harry thought Getta would be kicking him out when he summoned him for a conversation, quite the opposite happened. He took Harry around the Hotel Winona and explained the vision. Then he asked if he’d be willing to generate energy for the construction, as to avoid detecting from other clans in Chicago. Harry quickly realized this may be the only job he’d get that was interesting and that he couldn’t totally mess up. He donates and manipulates energy once or twice a day and gets paid. Nothing better than that.

Clara Fields (Acquaintance): Clara has been helping with a lot of the designs in the Hotel. He was surprised to see a Heavy underground, but Getta was clear when he told him not to mention it. She asked about having him on retainer for any possible power outages at the Fields Hotel, which he’s been considering.

Aisling Rois (Friendly): He met Aisling at Cryptic when he first arrived in Chicago. They hit it off well and she’s introduced him to others like Ana and Lestat.

Ana Vickors (Friendly): She’s been very welcoming to him, and after Getta hired him she showed him around the Underground. 

Sadie McCoy (Boss): He knows he works for Getta, but he thinks that Sadie might also be his boss. She introduced him to the builders for the underground and is the one that directs him where they need energy today. 

Bitwa Armii (Mentor): Bitwa has been training Harry for the past year. He knows that he is a bit disappointed in his lack of “ambition” as he puts it, but Harry is too exhausted by the end of the day from generating for the Underground to pursue a craft. Despite that, Bitwa has been supportive especially with the physical toll that Ergokinesis puts on his body, and he’s always offering solutions. A part of Harry feels bad he can’t tell Bitwa what is happening, but he doesn’t want to break Getta’s trust. 

Hostile Connections:

Petra Chak (Scared of): Petra is really scary and she’s told him that she doesn’t like him down in the Underground. His only comfort is that he’s pretty sure Getta needs him and that she wouldn’t double cross Getta.

Dan Prior (Uncertain of): He knows that Dan is a friend of Rachel’s, but he doesn’t know how he feels about him. Dan gives him looks that he doesn’t quite understand, and he thinks he may hate him. 

Sven (Scared of): Sven is always just kind of looming around, and when he does talk, it’s stoic and wise. There’s something off settling about him, and Harry is glad he usually only goes around him when Sadie is there. 

Pets:

None

→ History (paragraph(s) on background) → The Present (paragraph(s) on how the character connects to the plot)

→ Available Gif Hunts (we do not own these)

Miles Teller  [1][2][3]

[fullmetalscullyy]

the way it was - chapter 2

everybody needs one true friend

summary:  what if riza never went to war?  riza hawkeye has just married the man she loves. six months into their marriage, an unexpected surprise stops her from following roy to the military. a canon divergence au that explores what might have happened had riza been unable to join the military. there will be plenty of family fluff, angst, and royai.

rated: m | warnings: no archive warning apply

chapter 1 | read on ao3

1909

everybody needs one true friend

someone who’ll be there ‘till the very end

“The war in Ishval has taken a turn today, as the State Alchemists have managed to subdue more than eighty per cent of the rebels within the state. The Hero of Ishval, Roy Mustang, played a large part in today’s victory –” Riza quickly turned the radio off. Usually she would hang onto every word, absorb every scrap of news, but at the mention of his name, she couldn’t bear to listen to it anymore.

He’d been hailed as the Hero of Ishval. Riza didn’t want to begin to imagine what he might have done to those people to earn that title. She withheld all judgement – she had no right to do so because she wasn’t there – but it made her worried. Very worried. He had been sent off to war eight months ago. That was a long time.  Those eight months, and the actions he carried out within that time, may have changed him completely. Riza wouldn’t know what the man would return as until he was standing right in front of her. 

On today of all days she didn’t want to think about the war either. Besides, the only news she trusted came from letters Roy sent. Of course, he didn’t tell her much about the conditions out there. He wouldn’t want her to worry. However, even those were coming few and far between at this point, now eight months into his service. While that thought worried Riza regardless, she didn’t let it get her down. She couldn’t. She had too much to do and concentrate on here, at home. Thinking about the lack of response only brought tears and worry, and that was best saved for her bedroom at night where no one was around to hear her cry.

“Sorry,” Rebecca apologised sheepishly.

“It’s okay,” Riza replied, keeping her voice even. She placed a hand on her swollen stomach and turned her gaze outside the window of the car.

“I hear about it so often at work it just becomes background noise,” her friend explained. “But hey,” she added, voice becoming more chipper. “Today is all about you, so let’s forget about that just now.”

If only it was that simple.

“Gracia Hughes is on her way to the hotel now. One of Roy’s sisters is picking her up in the car. You won’t be completely bombarded by his siblings,” Rebecca laughed, trying to lighten the mood. Riza managed a smile, but it quickly fell. Now it had been mentioned, all she could do was worry about him.

She hadn’t received a letter in over a month. She’d sent two since his last one, but no reply. At least today’s news meant he was still alive. That was one positive thing to focus on.

Chris – bless the woman – had a party already in full swing by the time Riza and Rebecca arrived.

Roy’s family had all migrated to East City for the day, it felt like. They were staying at a hotel in town, and had hired out the function suite for them to throw a baby shower for Riza. She begged them not to go through so much trouble, that she was more than happy to have it in her own apartment, but she received a few sympathetic looks.

“Riza, honey, we wouldn’t all fit.”

Her and Roy’s apartment was small, but it wasn’t that small, Riza had thought indignantly.

Sure enough, Roy had a large family. Some people were here who she’d never even seen before.

She gulped.

“Riza!” Vanessa squealed as she stepped out of Rebecca’s car. The blonde threw her arms around Riza’s neck, hugging her tightly. She was an incredibly beautiful woman, always made up expertly with makeup and fake eyelashes, which Riza had never seen before meeting Roy’s family. Her blonde hair tumbled down her back, effortless curls swishing as she moved. Her perfectly manicured nails were two different colours today. The nail polish alternated colour on each finger, a pattern of blue and pink. It was in celebration of Riza’s baby shower, Vanessa had beamed at her and Rebecca. She was a very sweet woman, and Riza would never admit this aloud, but Vanessa was Riza’s favourite. All of Roy’s adoptive sisters were amazing to her, but Vanessa had gone that extra mile every time and had made sure Riza felty included in everything they did together as a family.

She truly felt like she was a sister to them, and Riza would forever be grateful to them for that.

Also, Riza often caught the scoop of the gossip around Central too, thanks to Vanessa. At least once a week she would phone Riza and ask how she was doing, eventually turning the conversation towards animatedly talking about who she’d been on a “date” with that week. Riza had heard some things she probably shouldn't have, but Vanessa had connections to the higher ups in the military too. Roy had explained what his mother dealt in and how the bar was just a front. No wonder her organisation was so fruitful. Vanessa somehow managed to get the scoop on everyone. She could be both relentless and ruthless in her “innocent” questioning, and Riza was glad that kind of attention had never been directed towards her. She’d spill all she knew there and then because Vanessa was that good.

As she was drawn into Vanessa’s embrace, Riza almost gagged at the amount of perfume that invaded her nostrils – a smell she’d become quite sensitive to while pregnant – but managed to control herself. “How are you doing? Oh, come in, come in! We’ve been so excited about today for so long!”

Banners covered every wall of the function suite while balloons littered the floor, a sea of plastic and air. Every time someone walked through them, they were kicked gently up into the air. It was a carpet of pink, blue, and white.

Her mother and sister-in-law had outdone themselves. There was so much food. Platter upon platter covered every available table in the room. They had been arranged around the outskirts of the room to allow a mingling area for the guests to Riza’s baby shower, as well as dancefloor. The chairs were dotted about the room, some arranged in small circles where women sat chatting and laughing with each other already, their plates full of food.

“Riza,” Chris greeted warmly, a smile on her face. She pulled Riza into an unexpected hug, but Riza appreciated it all the same. It was nice to feel welcomed like this. Roy’s family had accepted her wholeheartedly after their marriage. After he’d left, his sisters visited her at home almost every day. It was a blessing to have the company, as well as another connection to Roy. “Welcome. How are you feeling?”

“I’m all right,” Riza reassured her.

“Still get sick?”

Riza shook her head. “No. Thank goodness that’s all behind me.” In the early months she’d been violently sick many times. After eating, she would vomit. Even the smell of cooking made her ill. She had to go to hospital overnight once to get a drip because she’d almost passed out. Luckily, she’d been at Chris’ in Central for the weekend, so someone was able to take her there.

“Good.” Chris Mustang was a woman of very few words, Riza had noticed this early on. At first, she’d worried she’d offended her in some way because her replies were always abrupt, her tone sharp, but Roy reassured her “that was just his mother”.

The baby shower was very graciously arranged by Vanessa. Riza assured her she didn’t need anything fancy, but Vanessa had pulled out all the stops. There was a mountain of presents in the corner already, and there were still women arriving, carrying large boxes in their arms.

Riza felt her eyes begin to fill up with tears.

“Hey, are you okay?” Rebecca asked quietly, noticing her change in demeanour.

“I’m fine,” Riza reassured her, voice wobbling. “Honestly, I’m alright. This is just… a lot. It’s… completely unexpected.” No one had ever done something for her before, on this large a scale.

Roy had proposed, but it was a way to offer her stabilisation shortly after her father died. The proposal hadn’t been a grand affair. It was a quiet question, murmured over the sound of the fire crackling beside them in her living room. The fire hadn’t been on in years in her childhood home, but they lit it that night. A signal of a new beginning. A beacon of light for both their futures. After nervously asking Roy what he was talking about, he’d gotten down on one knee, uncertainty in his eyes. They loved each other, but the marriage would be convenient for her, more than anything. They both never expected it to grow into something so wonderful when they had first discussed it after Berthold’s funeral. Those six months of marriage had been the best days of her life.

During and just after the funeral, they’d been very guarded and shy with one another. A year had passed since he’d left for the military and they’d both grown up, but something awoke inside of her after being finally freed from her father’s burden. Perhaps it was the intimacy of the act – Roy examining the skin of her back so closely – and then the anguish of the aftermath. He’d burned the most important parts of the tattoo in order to hide it and stop others from discovering its secrets. Roy had agonised over her request, but she just wanted to finally be free, she had whispered brokenly, her tone carrying the weight of the burden on her back. He couldn’t deny her of that. It had brought them closer together. They now shared a bond that no one else would ever know the extent of. One that couldn’t be broken.

He proposed a week after the funeral. She’d passed on the secrets of flame alchemy to him, and that was when their relationship turned. The night he’d finished studying her back was when they’d slept together for the first time. The feeling of his fingertips ghosting over his skin, the breath tickling her sensitive back, had made her boldly roll over and straddle his hips. He’d been astonished, and if Riza wasn’t so worked up, she would’ve laughed. As soon as her hands tangled themselves in his hair, he reciprocated eagerly.

Roy left – for what was supposed to be the last time – to take the State Alchemist exam. They celebrated in a similar fashion after he returned to her home, excitement on his face. He was finally on the way to achieving his dreams. Riza was happy for him.

They were married in her hometown a month after he’d become a State Alchemist. Riza. Married at eighteen. Roy was twenty-one. Their relationship had gone into overdrive with everything progressing so quickly, yet Riza was oddly calm about the whole situation. It just felt right, after everything they’d been through.

“I know, I didn’t expect there to be so much,” Rebecca admitted. “But you deserve it, Riza.” 

Riza smiled gratefully at her friend. 

“Now, I know something that will definitely cheer you up. That good for nothing husband left you to run off to war,” Rebecca winked playfully. “I think it’s only fair you get to open all the presents.” 

Riza laughed quietly to herself. Surrounded by all this wonderful company and these amazing people who would do anything to make her day brighter or happier, Riza was sure she would be cheered up today. It would be just what she needed.