#meant to rub myself against her omfg

[munsonsfairy]

can i be on top? 😋😋😋

[pikapeppa]

Felassan/f!Lavellan: Ar Lasa Mala Revas

Chapter 27 of The Love That Grows From Violence (post-Trespasser Felassan x Tamaris Lavellan) is posted!

100% fluff, smut, and more feelsy fluff. ALSO GIFT ART, which needs its own post because I am beside myself with feels. 😭❤️

~9700 words so long omfg. Only the first part is posted here. Read the whole thing on AO3. 

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A few days later, when the sky was a curtain of deep midnight blue studded with stars, Tamaris sat on the roof curled into Felassan’s shoulder, watching as the smoke of their shared joint drifted from his mouth in delicate wisps and curls. 

He offered her the joint, and she took it and brought it to her lips. “What do you think we should do when we finally leave this house?” she asked.

He leaned back casually on one hand. “It depends on what’s happening in the world by the time we are ready to leave. Who knows? Maybe the qunari will start moving south by then. Or maybe Tevinter will succeed at pushing the qunari back.” He smiled cheekily. “Maybe someone will assassinate the Emperor of Orlais in a sudden coup d’état.”

Tamaris lifted an eyebrow and blew out a stream of smoke. “If I didn’t know better, I’d think you were trying to set up for such a coup.”

“Would that I had the resources to set up something so devious,” he said. “But that would probably plunge your world into even more chaos, so I wouldn’t recommend it.”

“Thank you for that very wise spy advice,” she said wryly.

He nodded politely. “You’re very welcome.”

She smirked and took another drag from the joint, then blew out a little cloud of smoke and held out the joint. “Seriously though. Isn’t there anything you want to do? Barring the stuff that we might have to do. Isn’t there anywhere you’d like to travel to?”

He took the joint. “It would be interesting to visit the Arbour Wilds — to see the Temple of Mythal again.”

She raised an eyebrow. “There’s no one there anymore.”

“Exactly,” he said. “It’s perfect for scavenging. There might be clues as to where Mythal’s dragon or her amulet are being kept, or whether her dragon is even alive anymore. It is possible that the Well of Sorrows was not the only sacred treasure they were guarding.”

Tamaris raised her eyebrows. “Oh shit. That’s true. Okay, we should go there.”

“We could,” Felassan said. “Or we could go somewhere else.”

She gave him a chiding look, and he smiled unconcernedly and handed her the joint. “Where do you want to go, avise? Which direction would we strike out in if you were given the choice?”

She sighed and gazed idly at the smouldering tip of the joint. “I… ah, I’ve been thinking for a while that I should go see my clan. Those who aren’t in Wycome still, I mean.”

“Where are they now?”

“They’re a short ways from Starkhaven right now,” she said. “It’s not that far from Kirkwall, so I don’t really have an excuse.”

He cocked his head. “You were avoiding them?”

She hesitated. She genuinely hadn’t had time to go see her clan after the explosion at the Conclave, and things had only gotten busier from a political and peacekeeping standpoint after Corypheus was dead. 

But if Tamaris was honest, it was more than just Inquisition business that had stopped her from visiting her clan. And there was a reason she had volunteered to spy on the Conclave in the first place, all those years ago.

She brought the joint to her lips. “I was avoiding them, yeah.”

“Why?”

“I was…” She sighed, then gave Felassan a hard look. “I love my clan, all right? I love them, and I think they’re great. But Dalish clans grow up knowing every bit of each other’s business. We’re very close, and it’s very hard to keep secrets. It’s part of what makes us such a tight community — the entire clan is really just one big family. There are no strangers in a clan, only family.” She ran her hand through her hair. “But it also makes it difficult to… to forget when something bad happens to someone.”

He tilted his head. “You were constantly reminded of Marin.”

“Yes,” she said. “And – look, it’s not that I want to forget him. I – I’ll never forget him. He’s been dead for years and I still think of him almost every day. But it’s one thing to think of him randomly because something reminds me of him, and it’s another thing to think of him because he’s all anyone ever sees when they look at me. When he’s all I ever thought about when I looked at my parents.” She exhaled hard and rubbed her forehead. “The Inquisition was a pain in the ass a lot of the time, but I was able to… I wasn’t ‘poor Marin’s sister’ anymore, and that was… gods, I feel like an asshole saying it, but it was a relief.”

“You had a chance to start over,” Felassan said.

She looked at him. His tone was neutral but his eyes were warm, and her shoulders loosened at his lack of judgment. “Yes,” she said. “I was able to… to be someone who wasn’t forever tied to my failure to protect my family. And as the Inquisitor, I became the opposite. I was the person they saw as the one who protected everyone.” She snorted and lifted the joint to her mouth once more. “Fucking ironic, isn’t it?”

“Did your clan really see you as someone who failed to protect your family?” he asked.

She blew out a mouthful of smoke. “I was someone who failed to protect my family. He got dragged off because I couldn’t talk the Templars into calming down.”

Felassan smiled faintly. “I hardly believe that the Templars were inclined to listen. Especially if Marin had already hurt some of them.”

Tamaris swallowed hard. “He, uh… he killed one of them, actually. And hurt a couple more. But he didn’t mean to.”

Felassan nodded an acknowledgement. “If that’s the case, his fate was sealed, and not by you. That wasn’t your fault.” He took the joint from her fingers.

She frowned at him. “What do you mean, his fate was sealed? You really think there was nothing I could have done?”

“Oh, something could certainly have been done,” Felassan said. “But I doubt your clan was willing or ready to start a war against the Chantry.”

Tamaris stared at him as he brought the joint to his lips. “You’re being pretty cold-hearted about this,” she accused.

He released a mouthful of smoke before replying. “Cold-heartedness is not my intention. My intention is to point out that it was not your fault. Look at the bigger picture, and you’ll realize that short of pitting your clan against the Templar Order, there was little you could have done.” He held out the joint to her.

She glared at him, then looked away and took a breath to calm herself. He wasn’t saying anything she hadn’t told herself at one point or another, though she never quite believed her own pep talks in this regard.

She believed Felassan, though. Galling as it was to admit, it meant more to hear him saying this than telling it to herself. 

He was still talking. “There was little you could have done at that time, at least. From what I read in This Shit Is Weird, you certainly had a hand in what happened to the Templar Order after the Conclave.”

She frowned slightly as she took the joint from him. “What do you mean?”

“You publicly supported the mages over the Templars,” he said. “The Templars’ ranks were decimated, save for those who came over to your side.”

“Yeah, but the Templars still exist,” Tamaris said.

“You tore them down to their foundations,” he said. “And the person who ultimately controls them now is your former spymaster. They may have taken Marin from you, but you saw that they were taken to heel. It took time, but you got your justice in the end. The hottest flames take some time to build, avise,” he said knowingly. He pulled from the joint, then exhaled the smoke and shot her a sly smile. “Some might even say you took the Vir’Felassan.”

The way of the slow arrow, she thought. She gazed at him with a combination of exasperation and affection. Trust him to find some way of seeing her haphazard stumbling with the Inquisition as a convoluted but purposeful path toward a bigger goal.  

She pulled from the joint, then let out a sigh of smoke and leaned into his side once more. “Anyway, that’s, um… yeah. That’s part of the reason I haven’t been back to see my clan.”

“What’s the rest of the reason?” he asked.

She lifted an eyebrow sardonically. “Um, that I was fucking the Dread Wolf and didn’t know it?”

He snorted a laugh. “Letting the Dread Wolf take you would have caused a stir, I imagine.”

Tamaris smirked and held out the joint, and his fingers brushed hers as he took it. “Are there none in your clan who joined his ranks?”

She sighed and ran her hands through her hair. “There were some. Maybe a dozen in total.”

Felassan smiled faintly. “Whatever happened to ‘the clan is family’?”

Tamaris tsked and punched him lightly in the arm. “Don’t be an asshole. We’re a family, not a bunch of single-minded drones like the qunari. If some of them got swayed by the messages that  Solas’s operatives were putting out, I can’t blame them.” She shot him a resentful look. “You know what does piss me off, though? Solas looked down on the Dalish so much, then he goes and recruits us anyway. That’s pretty fucking manipulative.”

“It is, yes,” Felassan said.

She frowned. “That’s all you have to say about it?”

He gave her a knowing look that was tinted with melancholy. “Don’t tell me you never manipulated anyone during your time as the Inquisitor. Don’t tell me such a lie.”

She wilted. “Fine, fine, you have a point.” Truthfully, she didn’t have it in her to be particularly angry anymore about the little things Solas had done. With everything that was brewing across the continent these days, it almost felt like she should save her anger for when it would serve her the most.

There was another brief and slightly morose pause as they passed the joint back and forth. Then, as usual, Felassan broke the silence. “So you want to go visit your clan, then?”

“I should,” she said.

He nodded and blew out some smoke, and there was another pause — one that felt loaded this time. As the silence stretched between them to an increasingly awkward degree, Tamaris’s heart began to thrum with nerves. 

Just fucking ask, she scolded herself. She chewed the inside of her cheek, then took a deep breath. “Felassan, will you come visit my clan with me?”

“Of course,” he said easily. “What else would I be doing?”

Her heart flipped in her chest. She stared incredulously at him until his lips curled in a smile. “Why are you gaping at me?” he asked.

“I…” She trailed off for a second, then gave him a skeptical look. “What, no questions, no complaints? Just yes?”

He lifted one eyebrow. “Was I unclear when I said we would be travelling together when we leave this house? If you’re going to see your clan, then so am I.”

A warm feeling spread through her ribcage and up to her cheeks. “But you don’t like the Dalish,” she said weakly. “You think we’re close-minded and all that shit.”

He shrugged and extinguished the butt of the joint on the roof. “It’s possible that I was wrong. About your clan, at the very least.”

She scoffed. “Possible, huh?”

He gave her a chiding smirk. “I can eat my own words, avise. They’re especially tasty when you slather them with evidence of the ways that I was wrong.”

She grinned goofily at him, then laughed and tucked a stray lock of hair over her ear. “A man who happily admits when he was wrong? What a catch. Maybe I shouldn’t take you back to the clan. All the unattached hunters will try to snap you up.”

“They can’t snap me up,” he said. “You’ve already caught me.”

Her heart leapt. She suddenly remembered the conversation she’d had with Dorian — that conversation where she’d described her feelings for Felassan: he caught me thoroughly. Now, to hear Felassan describing himself in a similar way…

He chuckled. “Tamaris, if you smile any wider, your face may split in two.”

She laughed giddily and shoved him. “Fuck you.”

He hooked his arm around her neck and pulled her close to kiss her temple, and they scuffled playfully for a moment before settling together once more.

Tamaris sighed happily and patted his thigh. “My mother might ask what your intentions are for me.”

“Hm,” he murmured thoughtfully. “Then I should probably come up with an answer that won’t make your face turn a deep and charming shade of red.”

She scoffed. “You’re such a fucking menace.”

“Thank you, Tamaris,” he said pleasantly. “I try.”

She beamed at him, then settled snugly against his side. They were quiet for a moment, and Tamaris indulged herself in a girlish fantasy of Felassan meeting her parents and telling half-sarcastic stories to her clan, then curling up with her in an aravel in the fragrant quiet of the woods: a stolen moment of peace before they went on to do more important things. 

She eventually squeezed his thigh. “Is there anything else you want to do when we leave the house? Like… trying to find Briala, maybe?”

He huffed in amusement. “You really want me to find her, don’t you?”

“I just think it’s sad that she doesn’t know you’re okay. Or that you’re even alive,” Tamaris said. “Whether you think she needs your help or not, I bet she’d want to hear from you.”

“She will,” Felassan assured her. “We’ll get a message to her.”

“How?” Tamaris asked.

“I was thinking of scratching obscure symbols into trees for her to find.” He smirked at Tamaris. “It’s the kind of thing she used to think the Dalish would do.”

She gave him a chiding look. “Felassan.”

He sighed dramatically. “All right, since you insist. I was thinking about coded letters, sent to different places where her most loyal cells used to be. The code would have to be premised on knowledge that she and I share, but not something Fen’Harel would know as well.”

She straightened with interest. “Do you have a code like that already?”

“Not exactly,” he said. “But I’ll think of something.”

Tamaris nodded, then hesitated before asking her next question. “Do you miss her?”

“Does a dandelion miss its seeds when they drift away to conquer new fields?”

Tamaris tsked. “You’re dodging.”

He smiled faintly, then leaned back casually on his palms. “Truthfully, I didn’t have time to miss her. I was made Tranquil the same night that I left her. Then I had no capacity to miss anyone or anything. When Cassandra restored me, I was… I felt too much of everything. How can I know if I missed her when I was caught in a cycle of euphoria and misery and rage?” He glanced at Tamaris. “A better question might be whether I thought of her, and the answer is yes; I thought of her often.”

Tamaris nodded. “I bet she misses you.”

Felassan gave her a chiding smile, and she nudged him with her shoulder. “I’m serious. I bet she would love to see you.”

“She doesn’t need to see me,” Felassan said. “I taught her to stand proudly on her own bare little feet.”

“Who cares about needing to see you?” Tamaris retorted. “I’m sure she wants to see you. Besides, you can’t possibly think the only value you had to her was as her teacher.”

Felassan made a mock-sad face. “That almost feels like an insult to my value as a teacher.”

Tamaris turned to face him fully. “You’re not just a tool, Felassan,” she said fiercely. “You’re not just here to be useful to people. There’s no way Briala spent sixteen years learning from you and didn’t give a shit about you.” She lifted her chin belligerently. “I think we should find her.”

Felassan smiled. “Is this going to be your mission, then? To broker a reunion between me and Briala?”

“If that’s what it’ll take for you to see that you’re worth more than your value as a spy or a teacher or a source of fucking information, then yes,” she snapped.

His smile softened, and he gently chucked her chin. “Easy, avise. You’ll set your hair on fire if you burn any brighter than this.”

She glared at him, irritated by how dismissive he was being. “You’re important, okay? And not because you’re a good spy or a useful ancient elf or any of that shit.”

His eyebrows rose. “Only a good spy? You wound me.”

“Shut the fuck up, will you?” she snapped. “I don’t care about the spy stuff or the mage stuff or the fact that you know shit about the past. I… those things don’t matter. You’re…”

She faltered, feeling awkward about the depth of her feelings, but Felassan’s smile only grew wider. “Go on,” he said. “Don’t stop yourself before you get to the good bit.”

She curled her lip. “Are you looking for me to list all your best qualities?”

“If you’re so inclined, I wouldn’t say no,” he replied.

She scoffed. He was so annoying. “You want me to jack you off while I’m at it?” she said snidely.

He burst out laughing. “How can I say no to a seductive offer like that?”

The treasured sound of his laughter rang straight to her heart. She tutted and folded her arms, and Felassan chuckled and pulled her against his side. “Are you aware that your pouting just makes you more charming?” he said.

“You’re smart, all right?” she burst out. “You’re so smart and perceptive. You can see both sides of things — well, most of the time at least, and when you don’t, you own up when you’re wrong. You make me laugh and you’re so fucking patient and–”

Felassan laughed and wrapped his arm around her. “Tamaris, you can stop. You don’t have to do this.”

“Yes I do, because you need to hear it,” she snapped. “Your value isn’t what you can do for people. It’s who you are. I don’t give a fuck if you never became a spy again or if you couldn’t cook or if you can’t totally control your magic. I’d still love you anyway.”

He grinned at her, and Tamaris’s heart somersaulted in her chest; his mouth was curled with mirth, but his beautiful violet eyes were glittering. 

He smoothed his hand over her hair. “Affectionate and abrasive at the same time. That is one of the reasons that I love you.”

It was on the tip of her tongue to tell him to shut the fuck up. Instead, she cradled his cheek in her palm and kissed him. He pulled her closer as he returned her kiss, and by the time he broke their kiss to pant against her parted lips, she was practically sitting in his lap. 

He brushed his lips to hers. “Let’s go inside,” he murmured.

Read the rest on AO3 because I’m a monster and a horrible tease. 😂

[dailydianakko]

Undying Au- God doesnt exist

I think I will cause problems on purpose. Anyway enjoy more of my little fic :3

NO!” I screamed. I was horrorfied! Lotte Go’thic 666 Nightfall tried to comfort me but I told her fuck off and I ran to my room crying myself. Holbrock chased after me shouting but she had to stop when I went into my room cause she would look like a perv that way. Anyway, I started crying tears of blood and then I slit both of my wrists. They got all over my clothes so I took them off and jumped into the bath angrily while I put on a Linkin Park song at full volume. I grabbed a steak and almost stuck it into my heart to commit suicide. I was so fucking depressed! I got out of the bathtub and put on a black low-cut dress with lace all over it sandly. I put on black high heels with pink metal stuff on the ends and six pairs of skull earrings. I couldn’t fucking believe it. Then I looked out the window and screamed… Lunkic was spying on me and she was taking a video tape of me! And Pices was masticating to it! They were sitting on their broomsticks. “EW, YOU FUCKING PERVS, STOP LOOKING AT ME NAKED! ARE YOU PEDOS OR WHAT!” I screamed putting on a black towel with a picture of Marilyn Mason on it. Suddenly Vampire ran in. “Abra Kedavra!” she yelled at Lunkic and Piceese pointing her womb. I took my gun and shot Loonkic and Peeses a gazillion times and they both started screaming and the camera broke. Suddenly Hoobrock ran in. “Akko, it has been revealed that someone has - NOOOOOOOOOOOOO!” she shouted looking at Lunick and pieces and then she waved her wand and suddenly… Nelson ran outside on her broom and said everyone we need to talk. “What do you know, Nelson? You’re just a little Hogwarts student!” “I MAY BE A HOGWARTS STUDENT….” Nelson paused angrily. “BUT I AM ALSO A SATANIST!” “This cannot be.” LAnick said in a crisp voice as blood dripped from her hand where Holbrooke’s wand had shot her. “There must be other factors.” “YOU DON’T HAVE ANY!” I yelled in madly. Piceses held up the camera triumelephantly. “The lens may be ruined but the tape is still there!” I felt faint, more than I normally do like how it feels when you do not drink enough blood. “Why are you doing this?” Peices said angrily while she rubbed her dirty fin on her hat. And then I heard the words that I had heard before but not from her. I did not know whether to feel shocked and happy or to bite her and drink her blood because I felt faint. “BECAUSE…BECAUSE….” Nelson said and she paused in the air dramitaclly, waving her wand in the air. Then swooped she in singing to the tune of a gothic version of a song by 50 Cent. “Because you’re goffic?” Lunkic asked in a little afraid voice cause she was afraind it meant she was connected with Satan. “Because I LOVE HER!” Chapter 12. AN: stop f,aing ok hargrid is a pedo 2 a lot of ppl in amerikan skoolz r lik dat I wunted 2 adres da ishu! how du u no snap iant kristian plus hargrid isn’t really in luv wif ebony dat was sedric ok! XXXXXXXXXXXXX666XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX I was about to slit my wrists again with the silver knife that Duana had given me in case anything happened to her. She had told me to use it valiantly against an enemy but I knew that we must both go together. “NO!” I THOUGHT IT WAS NELsOOM but it was Vampire. She started to scream. “OMFG! NOOOOO! MY HEMMROID HURTS!” and then….. her eyes rolled up! You could only see her red whites. I stopped. “How did u know?” “I saw it! And my vein turned back into the hemmerpiod!” “NO!” I ran up closer. “I thought you didn’t have a hemorrhoid anymore!” I shouted. “I do but Diabolo changed it into a pentagram for me and I always cover it up with foundation.” she said back. “Anyway my vein hurt and it turned back into the hemmeroid! Save me! then I had a vision of what was happening to Duana…………….Paul has her in bondage!” Anyway I was in the school nurse’s office now recovering from my slit wrists. Lunkick and Peeses and NELSOM were there too. They were going to St. Mango’s after they recovered cause they were pedofiles and you can’t have those fucking pervs teaching in a school with lots of hot gurlz. Chariot had constipated the cideo camera they took of me naked. I put up my middle finger at them. Anyway Nelson came into my hospital bed holding a bouquet of pink roses. “AKjew I need to tell u somethnig.” she said in a v. serious voice, giving me the roses. “Fuck off.” I told her. “You know I fucking hate the color pink anyway, and I don’t like fucked up preps like you.” I snapped. Nelsom had been mean to me before for being gottik. “No Akkeo.” Neelson says. “Those are not roses.” “What, are they goffs too you poser prep?” I asked cause I was angry that she had brought me pink roses. “I saved your life!” She yelled angrily. “No you didn’t I replied.” “You saved me from getting a Paris Hilton p- video made from your shower scene and being vued by Lunnick and Peeses.” Who MASTABATED (c is dat speld rong) to it he added silently. “Whatever!” I yelled angirly. She pointed her wand at the pink roses. “These aren’t roses.” She suddenly looked at them with an evil look in her eye and muttered Well If you wanted Honesty that’s all you haD TO SAY! . “That’s not a spell that’s an MCR song.” I corrected her wisely. “I know, I was just warming up my vocal cordes.” Then she screamed. “Petulus merengo mi kremicli romacio(4 all u cool goffic mcr fans out, there, that is a tribute! specially for Valkyrie I love you girl!)imo noto okayo!” And then the roses turned into a huge black flame floating in the middle of the air. And it was black. Now I knew she wasn’t a prep. “OK I believe you now wtf is Duana?” Nelson rolled her eyes. I looked into the balls of flame but I could c nothing. “U c, Akkeo,” Howdybrooke said, watching the two of us watching the flame. “2 c wht iz n da flmes(HAHA U REVIEWRS FLAMES GEDDIT) u mst find urslf 1st, k?” “I HAVE FOUND MYSELF OK YOU MEAN OLD WOOMAN!” NalsOM yelled. HOWDYbrookes lookd shockd. I guess she didn’t have a headache or else she would have said something back. Neleleson stormed off back into her bed. “U r a liar, proof Hobrookee!” Anyway when I got better I went upstairs and put on a black leather minidress that was all ripped on the ends with lace on it. There was some corset stuff on the front. Then I put on black fishnets and black high-heeled boots with pictures of Billie Joe Armstrong on them. I put my hair all out around me so I looked like Samara from the Ring (if u don’t know who she iz ur a prep so fuk off!) and I put on blood-red lipstick, black eyeliner and black lip gloss. “You look kawai, girl.” Sucy P’oison said sadly. “Fangs (geddit) you do too.” I said sadly too, but I was still upset. I slit both of my wrists feeling totally depressed and I sucked all the blood. I cried again in my bathroom and put the shades on so Lunnkick and ppeses couldn’t spy on me this time. I went to some classes. Vampire was in the Flying Class. She looked all depressed because Duana had disappeared and she had used to be in love with Duana. She was sucking some blood from Chole. “Hi.” she said in a depressed way. “Hi back.” I said in an wqually said way. We both looked at each other for some time. Amanda had beautiful red gothic eyes so much like Duanas. Then……… we jumped on each other and started screwing each other. “STOP IT NOW YOU HORNY SIMPLETONS!” shouted Professor Croiz who was watching us and so was everyone else. “Vampire you fucker!” I said slapping her. “Stop trying to screw me. You know I loved Duana!” I shouted and then I ran away angrily. Just then she started to scream. “OMFG! NOOOOO! MY HEMMEROID HURTS!” and then….. her eyes rolled up! You could only see her red whites. “NO!” I ran up closer. “I thought you didn’t have a hermmeroid anymore!” I shouted. “I do but Diabolo changed it into a pentagram for me and I always cover it up with foundation.” she said back. “Anyway my hemmeroid hurt and then I had a vision of what was happening to Duana…………….POOL has her bondage!” XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX666XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX Vampire and I ran up the stairs looking for HobRoock. We were so scared. "HOBroock HoldbROOKE!” we both yelled. HOlbrooke came there. “What is it that you want now you despicable snobs?” she asked angrily. “PAUL has Diana!” we shouted at the same time. She laughed in an evil voice. “No! Don’t! We need to save Duana!” we begged. “No.” she said meanly. “I don’t give a darn what Paul does to Diana. Not after how much she misbehaved in school especially with YOU Akko.” she said while she frowned looking at me. “Besides I never liked her that much anyway.” then she walked away. Vampire started crying. “My Diana!” she moaned. (AN: don’t u fik gay guyz r lik so hot!) “Its okay!” I tried to tell her but that didn’t stop her. She started to cry tears of blood. Then she had a brainstorm. “I had an idea!” she exclaimed. “What?” I asked her. “You’ll see.” she said. She took out her wand and did a spell. Then…… suddenly we were in Pauls MAnsion! We ran in with our wands out just as we heard a croon voice say. “I kast GUN!” It was……………………………….. PAUL! XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX666XXXXXXXXXX WARNING: SUM OF DIS CHAPTA IS XTREMLY SCRAY. VIOWER EXCRETION ADVISD. We ran to where PAul was. It turned out that Paul wasn’t there. Instead Duanas Cousin MErril was. Diana was there crying tears of blood. Meryll was torturing her. Vampire and I ran in front of Merill. “Rid my sight you despicable preps!” she shouted as we started shooting her with the gun she Then suddenly she looked at me and she fell down with a lovey-dovey look in her eyes. “AkkoyIloveyouwiluhavesexwithme.” she said. (in dis she is sixteen yrs old so shes not a pedofile ok) “Huh?” I asked. ”Akko I love you will you have sex with me?” asked merrioll. I started laughing crudely. “What the fuck? You torture my gf and then you expect me to fuck you? God, you are so fucked up you fucking bastard.” I said angrily. Then I stabbed her in the heart. Blood pored out of it like a fountain. “Nooooooooooooo!” she screamed. She started screaming and running around. Then she fell down and died. I brust into tears sadly. “Morril what art thou doing?” called Pauul. Then…… she started coming! We could hear her high heels clacking to us. So we got on our broomsticks and we flew to Loona Noova. We went to my room. Vampire went away. There I started crying. “What’s wrong honey?” asked Diana taking off her clothes so we could screw. She had a sex-pack (geddit cuz shes so sexah) and a really huge you-know-what and everything. “Its so unfair!” I yielded. “Why can’t I just be ugly or plain like all da other girls and preps here except for Sucy P'oison, because she’s not ugly or anything.” “Why would you wanna be ugly? I don’t like the preps anyway. They are such fucking sluts.” answered Diana. “Yeah but everyone is in love with me! Like Liunkink and Peices took a video of me naked. Nelsom says she’s in love with me. Vampire likes me and now even Meriol is in love with me! I just wanna be with you ok Diana! Why couldn’t Satan have made me less beautiful?” I shouted angrily. (an” don’t wory Akkow isn’t a snob or anyfing but a lot of ppl hav told her shes pretty) “Im good at too many things! WHY CAN’T I JUST BE NORMAL? IT’S A FUCKING CURSE!” I shouted and then I ran away.

[distant-rose-archive-blog]

I know this is scaling back your series like thirteen? (Christ Harrison is like thirteen now. Omfg) years but I really want to know how Emma and Killian found out about the first baby pirate Harrison (captain of the crew?)

Hi there! I’m so sorry that you waited so long for this. Unfortunately, I’m just a slow worker. With that being said, I don’t mind scaling back. I don’t write them chronologically. (I should perhaps write a timeline on when each story is taking place though.) 

In regards to Harrison being the captain of the crew? He’s more the quartermaster than the captain. Beth is more the captain since she can manipulate people to do her bidding the best. Quartermasters were vessel navigators; pirate quartermasters were elected by the crew and ranked higher than any officer except captain. Harrison is more of a guider than a demander, so I see him as a navigational guy. (I put way too much thought into this. Ignore me.)

Anyway, getting all that out of the way. Killian finding out about Harrison is a very angsty story. If you wanted a happy pregnancy reveal story, you picked the wrong kid. Like Harrison’s origin story is kinda horrible. This takes place three months after the finale. Please note that this angst-ridden ridiculousness has a lot of disturbing themes including child death and abortion. However, I mean this is at the way beginning. Like arguably this is the beginning of the Little Pirates timeline, so as angsty as this is, there is light at the end of the tunnel. Anyway, this is 4,100+ words of Killian discovering Emma is pregnant with Harrison.

There were some days when the good guys won but not everyone got a happy ending. Those were the hardest for Emma, who had been prophesied since birth to be the Savior, and had been told it was her duty to save everyone and bring back the happy endings. Today was one of those days.

For once the tragedy of the day wasn’t because magic or anything fairytale related at all, but a tragic tale of a broken family where one unhinged father discovered he wasn’t a father at all and decided the best course of action was to hunt down his wife and her children.

Killian had shot the husband when he had turned his weapon on Emma, saving ten-year old Ana Maria and eight-year old Dante but they couldn’t save the wife nor her six-year old son Oscar. The wife had been found shot in the back of the head in the residence. He and Emma had arrived too late for Oscar who had been suffering from a gunshot wound to the stomach. Emma sat with the boy as they had called for an ambulance, holding her hand against the wound in hopes of stopping the flow despite the blood pouring out between her fingers and pooling onto her jeans. She had held him close, whispering how it was going to be okay despite the fact that both Killian and Emma knew it was far from okay. Oscar had died before the paramedics had arrived and Emma had cradled his body close to hers, running her hands through his dark hair and tears silently streaming down her cheeks.

Killian had known that there was nothing he could do or say to make it better. He had felt this in his bones. He had tried to comfort her in a physical way, reaching for her hand and trying to put an arm around her shoulders. She had shrugged off both attempts so Killian let her be. David, who helped answer the call with them since they were having dinner together at Emma’s parents’ place, hadn’t gotten the memo, trying to tell Emma it wasn’t her fault or how “no team bats a thousand” - whatever the bloody hell that meant. Emma had just nodded absently in response, blood still covering her hands and mascara leaving trails under her eyes; David’s words hadn’t even penetrated the surface. She was lost somewhere dark in her head, beyond their reach.

When they arrived home, Emma immediately went upstairs and straight into the bathroom. Killian tried to follow her but she locked the door behind her. The locked door between them felt to Killian almost like a physical punch. He understood why she did it, that she needed a moment to herself after such a trying day, but Killian could not help wondering if locked doors this early into their marriage was a bad omen. Through the door, Killian heard his wife turn on the shower. While he knew she was probably rubbing her skin raw to clean away Oscar’s blood, he wondered if she had decided on the shower to cover up the fact she was finally breaking down about Oscar’s death.

Killian sighed, rubbing his palm over his eyes for a moment before stepping away from the door and heading back downstairs. He was no use to anyone, especially Emma, just standing outside their bathroom. He immediately went into the kitchen, coming to the firm decision that making hot chocolate would be the best course of action. It wouldn’t change things and it wouldn’t bring Oscar back, but he hoped it would help somewhat calm her turbulent emotions.

To help pass the time, Killian had decided to make real hot chocolate instead of the powdered instant that Emma seemed to prefer. Not long after Killian had moved into the house, Henry had gone off on a tangent him about the merits of “real hot chocolate” made by saucer with “actual milk” rather than microwaved water and packet. In a fit of desperation to get Emma’s boy to like him more, Killian had asked Snow to teach him to create the confection. (Little had he known this had entirely been the boy’s aim all along. “Mom, doesn’t even bother to try because she actually legit burns water when she even attempts to make pasta. The only thing she knows how to make is pancakes. So you were kinda my only hope, Obi-Wan.”)

It took him an extraordinary amount of time to make the hot chocolate due to the temperamental tendencies of their kitchen stove, but once he had finished making the drink and had added all the necessary embellishments (he had learned long ago that hot chocolate without whipped cream and cinnamon was a sin in this house), he was able to make his way back up the stairs.

The bathroom door was open by the time he had finished his ascent and he found his wife dressed in her pajamas and his black bathrobe which she had long since commandeered as her own, laying on top of their bed. Her blonde hair, still wet, laid around her like some sort of wild halo on their pillows. She was staring up at the ceiling with eyes, still red, and her hands resting on top of her stomach.

Killian watched her for a moment, leaning against the doorway while cradling the mug of hot chocolate in his hand. He looked her with a mixture of concern and anxiousness, waiting for her to speak but when she didn’t acknowledge his presence, he sighed.

“Swan, love, I brought you something…” His voice sounded weak even to his own ears.

Emma didn’t respond. She continued stare up at the ceiling and this time Killian noticed that the hands resting on her abdomen were shaking. He placed the mug down on the dresser closest to the door and ran his hand through his hair, wondering if he should call for reinforcements in the form of his mother-in-law and his stepson.

“Emma…”

“I should have saved him…” Emma whispered, her voice hoarse. It confirmed what Killian had already known; she had spent a great deal of time crying in his absence.

“Emma, you can’t do that to yourself, love…” Killian said as gently he could.

Once again, Emma didn’t respond and Killian could see her lips now trembling. He watched as her bottom teeth appeared and bit into her top lip for a moment, perhaps in a desperation attempt to keep her emotions lynch-pinned away.

“My magic,” she said quietly as if that explained everything. “I should have healed him. If my magic had been working, I would have been able to save him. Oscar would be alive right now, if my magic wasn’t so fucked up.”

Killian frowned deeply. He had nearly forgotten about Emma’s magic; it hadn’t even been on the radar in the horror show that was the night. However, he wasn’t even aware she was having issues with it. He tried extremely hard not to be irritated with her lack of communication with him on this behalf. It just felt like another thing that his wife didn’t trust him with. She didn’t trust him to comfort her after a trying situation and she didn’t trust him to tell him she was having trouble with her magic. Some husband he was.

“What’s going on with your magic, love?” Killian asked, trying to keep his voice calm and neutral.

This time Emma was visibly shaking with her entire body as if she was wracked with silent sobs, but he saw no tears leave her eyes, though they looked rather misty.

“Killian…” The way her voice sounded broke him. “Killian, I’m pregnant.”

When she said the words, Killian felt as if he had been separated from his body. Emma was still speaking, he could see her lips moving but he couldn’t hear her. It was as if the entire world had faded away in that moment and he was left in some sort of purgatory state that had no sound, smell, feel or taste.

He and Emma had a five second conversation on children before they had gotten married. Killian had made it clear that he would follow Emma’s lead on whatever she had wanted in that department; being married to her was more than enough for him and anything else was just bonus. Emma had decided that she wasn’t willing to make a decision on the subject until after they were married for a few years. “I want you all to myself before I make any decision on whether I want to share you with anyone else,” she had said. Killian had always assumed this was code for Emma did not want any more children and was too afraid to say so in case Killian had any urgings on the subject.

Killian had accepted the idea that he would never be a father. He had always expected that the Jones line would end with him. His lifestyle up until recently had not been conducive to siring and raising children, though he had briefly entertained the idea of raising Baelfire when Milah had been alive, though Bae had been beyond his formative years by then. And sure, he now had a stepson in Henry, but the boy was nearly grown, almost a man in his own right, and there was very little parenting to be done on Killian’s end.

However, at the same time, it wasn’t as if Killian had imagined what parenthood would be like for him. Occasionally a blonde haired, blue eyed little girl had flittered across his mind’s eye and he had thought on what it would be like to pick her up and have her snuggle against his chest or what it would be like to teach her to tie knots. Some of his occasional thoughts danced with the idea of having a little one to sit on his hip while he sailed the Jolly that he could whisper sailing lessons to. These had been nothing more than flights of fancy though and he had often banished them from his mind as quickly as they had been formed in his head because he had been certain that Emma did not want any more kids and dwelling on something that could never be was something he knew could result in great unhappiness.

Yet, here they were; three months married and apparently pregnant.

“Killian, please say something.”

Emma’s voice seemed to act like some sort of tether to reality and he was suddenly snapped back into his body where he was faced with a maelstrom of emotions he was by no means prepared to deal with. It seemed like every emotion that he had ever felt in his entire life had been pushed inside of him and he was ready to explode.

“Killian…”

The one of the most prominent emotions, and it nearly scared him how prominent it was, was a crowing primitive sense of male satisfaction that somehow hadn’t been fulfilled before (and the fact that it hadn’t been disturbed him on a many level.) It was a possessive essence that was thrilled with the concept that something that was his was now growing inside his wife and really enjoyed the idea of using the term ‘his’ on multiple levels. This child, unborn as it was, would tie them together in a way that could not be broken. Emma could divorce him at any time, but this child would always bind them.

“Killian…please…”

Aside from this absurd masculine pleasure, he also felt an intense amount of fear. Pan had once called him a one-handed pirate with a drinking problem and never had there been a painfully more accurate description in his life. Killian was more than aware that he was being held together by duct tape (an absurdly useful item Killian was coming to realize), sheer stubborn determination and Emma’s unwavering support. He could barely keep himself afloat as it was, how was he supposed to care for a child? With one hand? His hook wasn’t necessarily child friendly either. One thing became abundantly clear the more he thought about it - he was not at all equipped nor ready to handle a child.

“Killian…you’re scaring me…”

The next most emotion that seemed to possess him at the moment was anger and it surprised him how angry he was. Emma had known she was pregnant when they had received the call that there had been a shooting at the Hoya residence. She had known and had decided to respond to the call anyway, endangering both herself and the unborn child inside of her. A gun had been pointed at her head. He could have lost them both and he wouldn’t have even understood the magnitude of his loss. His babe had barely begun to exist and its life had already been threatened.

“KILLIAN!” Emma barked sharply.

He blinked in surprise, glancing over at her with a slightly startled expression. She looked annoyed; more like his wife who had a spine made of steel rather than the trembling mess she had been since they had taken Oscar’s body away.

“I literally have been talking for five minutes and you’ve literally been in zombie mode or something. Did you even hear a word that I said?” she asked between clenched teeth.

Killian bypassed the question for one of his own.

“How long have you known? How?” It was the first question that popped into his head that he knew didn’t have the immediate possibility of starting a fight.

“Only a couple of days,” she responded, eyes focused on hands resting on top of her still flat stomach. “My magic has been on the fritz for a few weeks so I went to talk to Regina on Sunday when I dropped off Henry and she had this crazy theory that I was pregnant and that my magic has to fight with the baby’s magic since I’m technically the host of both at the moment. She was so insistent that I wanted to prove her wrong. So, we got a test and I took it and it was positive…”the rabbit died” in her words. Whatever that means.”

“You took a test with Regina?” Killian could not help but feel irritation at that. This was his child, not Regina’s. Regina had known about the babe before he did. He knew he was being irrational, but it rubbed him raw. She had no business being involved in this.

“Yeah…” Emma rose her eyebrows at him as if silently asking if he was touched in the head.

“You took a test with Regina and found out you were pregnant on Sunday and it’s now Thursday, no, excuse me, it’s Friday morning and I’m now just finding out. Why didn’t you tell me?” He tried extremely hard not to seem demanding, but his growing anger with her crept in.

“Killian, I wanted to wrap my head around it. I wanted to understand exactly how I felt about it before adding your feelings to the mix,” she responded defensively.

This time he didn’t even bother to hide his ire.

“Well, I think it’s pretty clear how you feel about the child considering that you went in guns blazing into a hostile situation tonight and endangered both yourself and the baby in the process.” 

As words left his mouth, she looked at him like he crossed the room and slapped her. He watched a play of emotions dance across her face before she settled into what he could only describe as misguided indignation. She sat up on the bed, fingers twisted into the comforter as she stared him down.

“Killian Jones, don’t you dare use this pregnancy to take away my job from me. I will not be barefoot and pregnant the entirely of this marriage and if that’s what you’re looking for…then you need to leave.”

Killian’s jaw dropped and he sputtered angrily. Where the hell had that come from? He had been expressing his anger towards her careless endangerment of their unborn child and herself. No where in his line of question had he ever mentioned a determination to have Emma “barefoot and pregnant.”

“Gods above, where did you hear me say that nonsense? I never said you couldn’t do your job, Emma, and not once have I ever implied I was going to chain you to the house and fill your belly with babies. I didn’t even think you wanted any. I had agreed to anything you wanted, that bullshit waiting game. But waiting is over. Pardon the pun, but the ship has sailed. That child exists and it’s not just your life you’re being careless with anymore. I’m all for you being Sheriff, Emma, because it’s a part of who you are, but what about keeping the child safe?”

“Safe?” Emma let out a laugh that held no joy and made Killian’s insides cold. “Safe doesn’t exist. This kid will never be safe. The second some maniac gets a whiff of his existence, I guarantee you we will be up to our elbows in magical fairytale fucking nonsense and at least a dozen witches, three demigods and two evil scientists who will want to steal this kid to fulfill their plans of world domination. He might as well get used to it now. Fuck, I will be lucky if someone doesn’t speed up this pregnancy.”

“Maybe, but we will protect the chi”- “Like we protected Oscar today?” Emma asked him sharply, interrupting him. “Like my parents protected me growing up? Like they protected Neal from Zelena? Like we protected Gideon from the Black Fairy? The track record in protecting infants from evil is far from the best. This kid already has magic, Killian, and it’s fucking with mine. How long do you think we’ll have? Honestly?”

“That’s not fair, Emma,” Killian said softly, because it was the only thing he could say when his heart felt like breaking. He had always imagined that if Emma had ever told him she was with child, that it would be one of the best days of his life, and so far, it was shaping out to be one of the worst.

“No, it’s not, but that’s reality for us. We fucked up.”

She then turned away from him, grabbing a pillow and curling herself around it. Again, he felt the move like a physical blow.

Killian closed his eyes, clenching his fists and summoning up all of his inner strength. For the first time since they had been married, Killian felt the need to make a wall around himself, around his heart, because he couldn’t see way for this conversation to end without everything he was possibly crumbing to pieces. He prepared himself for the worse.

“Then, what do we do, love…?” he asked in a voice barely whisper. He could hear his own voice wavering in his ears.

“I don’t know,” she responded just as quietly. “I don’t know, Killian. The world is not a kind place. It’s scary, hurtful, dangerous and completely unfair whether it’s dealing with the Final Battle or some asshole who thinks it’s okay to shoot small children who can’t control who their parents are. I mean, look at us. I was in the foster care system. I was alone most of my life and I got the shit kicked out of me more than once in both literally and metaphorical ways. More times than I can count really. And you? You were enslaved, Killian, by your own father. You’ve been tortured more times than I care to know. You are covered in scars. The tattoos do a brilliant job hiding it, but babe, I can feel them. And that’s just our childhoods. The last few years? Pan? Hades? Hyde? The Black Fairy? They called it the Final Battle, but Killian, I’m waiting for the atom bomb to drop and this kid is going to be in the first in the line of fire. I don’t want that for my kid. Our kid. Some days, I’m amazed Henry is still even here…”

She was right. It hurt how much she was right. The logic behind her own words was undeniable and it all led to a conclusion that personally repulsed him and made him want to howl with rage, but seemed like the most rational thing to do.

“Do..we…Swan…do we…should we…” He couldn’t bring himself to say the words.

She finished the question for him.

“Should we end it?” 

Emma had always braver and stronger than him, so it didn’t surprise him that she was able to say what made everything inside of him scream; horrified by the concept. Killian didn’t have issue with abortion; he had encouraged more than a few of the female friends he had made over the years to consider the option. However, the idea of destroying something that was part his blood and part Emma’s made him want to die.

She looked at him over her shoulder and she looked nearly as heartbroken as he felt. She tilted her head, asking silently for clarification with her; making sure that was the question he had meant to ask. He gave a stiff nod, grimacing as he did so.

“I don’t know,” she said, closing her eyes against the flood of oncoming tears. “I mean, it’s rational. We’re so new. A lot of stuff has happened. A lot of stuff will most definitely happen. Neither of us are in the right state of mind to even think about being parents, but…I don’t think I can do it. I couldn’t with Henry and I hated Neal more than life itself when I found about about him. I really don’t want to, I’m already attached. I felt guilty about calling him an it so I’ve been calling him, well, him…”

“You think it’s a boy…?” Killian asked, swallowing.

“I think it’s a beautiful disaster that I’m already in love with but at the same time, I’m fucking terrified…of him…for him…just all around petrified to bring this child into this mess. He doesn’t deserve to be born in world like this,” she answered honestly.

Killian couldn’t stand the distance between them anymore. He shed his vest, his brace and his socks, placing them carelessly on the floor next to the dresser before joining Emma on the bed. He curled himself around her, untying the bathrobe that had once been his and placing his hand on top of hers on her abdomen.

“You’re right, the babe deserves better, but that doesn’t mean we can’t…that we can’t try…You said that we don’t have good record at defending children from harm, but that doesn’t mean that we can’t tip the scales, that we can’t try…and sure, it’s scary but…I would rather try than admit defeat. If anyone can succeed, I would like to think it would be us…We’ve beaten incredible odds before…” he murmured against her neck.

“You want it, huh?” she whispered. One of her hands moved and found his, weaving their fingers together. Her thumb brushed lovingly over his.

“I am the last man on earth who should be reproducing. Pan was a demon but he had been very adapt in his description of me - a one-handed pirate with a drinking problem. I’ve got more sins than virtues and I’m woefully unprepared to raise a child. And you’re right, there’s always something going on, our life is chaotic and unpredictable, and there seems to be more disasters than quiet moments, but yes, despite all the reasons that I shouldn’t, I want it. Well, him.”

“So you think it’s boy, huh?” Emma asked in a watery laugh.

Killian squeezed her hand impossibly hard in response. He didn’t know how else to express his feelings without exploding.

“Well, it’s your gut, Swan. If you think it’s a boy and you’re calling him a him, then you’re probably right. Your intuition is never wrong, love, and I’d be a fool to bet against you. That doesn’t mean I would be opposed to a girl with your blonde hair and freckles…”

“I can’t believe this is happening…”

“If it makes you feel better, love, I can’t either. It’s scary, but we’ll figured it out. We always do.”

“Yeah…” Her head fell back against his shoulder and she turned it so that her nose brushed against the hollow of his neck. “I’m so tired…”

“It’s been a day, love. A long, emotional day,” he said, placing a kiss on her temple. He wrinkled his nose a bit as he caught a few strands of hair in his mouth. “You should sleep.”

He moved them so that they were laying on their sides, tossing the bathrobe carelessly over the side of the bed. Begrudgingly, he maneuvered Emma so that she was laying under the covers before sliding beneath the sheets as well. He placed his hand back on her lower belly, his thumb running mindlessly circles over her soft flesh.

“You’re not going sneak downstairs and have a nip if I nod off, are you?” she asked sleepily, trying to fight off her dropping eyelids.

“No, love, I’m staying right here,” he responded, placing another kiss on her head. “I’m not going anywhere.”

“Good,” she murmured before allowing her eyes to shut.

[egoiistas]

Even in the Darkness

Some Royai fluff/angst I managed to complete. omfg jump in joy with me now, all together. Decided to try my hand at Blind!Roy. I was very pleased with the experience. 

Also found on ff.net and Ao3.

It was the early hours of the morning. Roy Mustang could only assume. He listened. The birds chirped just outside of the window. There was a subtle hum from the slow-moving fan above. He felt the sun blanket his skin with warmth and there was a crispness in the air.  But when he opened his eyes, he only had the memories of the daylight. Beyond that, it was dark. It was quiet and still.  

Roy traced his face, the strands of hair sticking up from a night’s sleep. Downwards, he acknowledged the clothes on his body, the sleeveless patient scrubs. He wiggled his toes. Everything seemed to be in place.

At his fingertips, he felt the bedclothes and the hospital bed mattress underneath. He carefully brought himself up, grasping the linens at his sides for support. As if there was no instance in his life that he didn’t sit up in complete darkness in his own bed. But it’s different, he mused. Blindness was different. There was no such thing as an instant reassurance anymore like the flip of a light switch had been or the simple act of opening his eyes.

His head followed the sunlight’s warmth, looking around with his disabled eyes and could only bask in what the nerves of his skin told him. For all he knew, it could have been a heater placed in an awkwardly high place. But it was also spring, so that was also unlikely.

Less than a day had gone by since he lost his eyesight, forced to see the truth and giving up his vision as toll. He tried to keep his head up, tried to find the silver lining and keep his strength. It could have been worse, he thought. It could have been a limb or his entire body, like the Elrics, or vital innards, like Izumi Curtis.

But deep down, Mustang knew what he truly felt: despair and hopelessness and it didn’t even have to rain. A darker voice within himself told him a limb, a body, even the fingers he performs alchemy with could be replaced with automail. And if Izumi Curtis could live as long as she has, then so could he and he’d be able to move forward. He would have preferred any of those to his eyesight. But the Truth is cruel.  He consciously clenched his fist, gritting his teeth.

If he were to follow that dark hole within him, he’d truly be lost.

He heard bedsheets shuffling to his left with a quick creak of the bed from someone relieving the springs in the bed next to him. He turned his head toward the source, still trying to use his eyes to see.

“Who’s there?” He demanded with a low gruff voice, attempting to conceal any emotion he was dealing with. He tried to keep his nerves under control. However, someone was in the room with him and he didn’t notice. How would I have noticed? How do I even get my gloves? How can I be a Fuhrer with no vision? I’m a sitting duck. A silent assassin would take advantage of that then and they could take advantage of it now. Bare footfalls resonated closer and closer. He braced for the worst.

“Colonel.”

He nearly jumped out of his skin when a hand gently rested on top of his.

“Sir, it’s me. I’m here.” She sighed. He felt the bed indent as she sat on the side of his bed just beyond arm’s reach. “I’m right here.”

“Lieutenant.” Relief washed over him like the warmth of the sun. The tension crippling his muscles immediately dissipated. Mustang found his commandeering voice again, “I didn’t realize you were here. Have you been here all night?”

“Yes.”

He narrowed his eyebrows, annoyed with her persistence and no consideration for her own wellbeing, “Wh-“

“As a patient for my injuries, sir,” she interjected emotionlessly.  

Mustang froze, slightly bowing his head, clenching his fist again underneath her palm. He selfishly wound himself up, licking his own wounds, that he emotionally abandoned his subordinates. He had already forgotten Riza neared death and that frightened him more than any silent assassin. “I’m sorry.”

Her calloused, yet miraculously feminine hand uncoiled his fist and intertwined with his fingers. He knew these moments with her came once in a blue moon and not sooner, cherishing these lapses in professionalism. He smiled briefly until he felt moisture seep between her fingers. The substance was warm when it reached his own and slid off without resistance. It wasn’t thick like blood, but rather watery. Tears. 

He almost reacted, before he beat her to it. 

“It should have been me.” The Lieutenant finally spoke. The sound of her words didn’t carry directly to him but like she hung her head like he just had over their hands. The pain in her voice was hardly noticeable, but it was there and it was immense.  

“I’ve been haunted all my life,” she managed, squeezing his hand. “By things I wish I could change in the past. But nothing like this.” He heard her suppress her sniffling. Teardrops continued to fall onto the back of his hand and her voice began to betray her for emotion. “It should have been me, Roy. Had I been capable of alchemy, had I been my father’s protégé it would have been me.” 

There’s an indescribable agony listening to someone bring themselves down when they hardly deserve it. For him, that increased tenfold when it involved her. A victim of circumstances she didn’t choose and yet managed to build herself up, establishing her own name at his side.

The Colonel could hear her restraining any audible sounds produced by her moment of weakness. After all this time, even in the darkness, he could tell and judging by her words, her disregard for formalities, she was hurting.  He was speaking to the woman beyond the military uniform.

“But then,” he said, pausing on the weight of his words. “I wouldn’t have had the pleasure to know Riza Hawkeye.” He said it abruptly, without a second thought. Roy realized nothing would be more true or half as sincere as that statement.

Roy heard her shift where she rested. Perhaps to sit up straight or to look away from him. Fortunately, she continued to hold onto his hand. He took the opportunity to scoot up closer to her, using her grip like a tether line. With his free hand, he trailed up her arm to guide him until he found the bottom of her jaw, cupping her face and wiping away an escaping tear. Warmly, he offered another smile whether she was looking or not. “I was on the edge of losing myself and you brought me back. I lost my eyesight,” he said, waving his hand in front of his face, then replacing it to hold her hand with both of his. “And you were my eyes. I’ve been through hell and back with you, Riza. I wouldn’t trade you to see again.” 

She became still again. He counted his lucky stars no one had come in the room yet. “What time is it?”

“It’s early,” she murmured, confusion hinted at her voice by the sudden change in subject. “Nearing 6 am.” 

“Ah, perfect.” He let go of her hand, leaning back on the headboard. “I need you to do me a favor. Get under the covers and hug me.” He lifted the sheets to gesture the invite, giving her a cocky grin. The fact remained that he was blind for the time being, but he needed her to know she was blameless, even if it meant throwing indecent jokes at her.

Riza laughed to his gratification. “You’re an idiot,” she told him.

“I’ll be your jester, if you’ll be my queen.” He smiled mischievously in response. He knew she’d leave his side, fed up with him. The springs creaked as she got up.

He set down the sheets and they rose on their own again. His head turned towards his side, feeling another body situate themselves, legs sliding in next to his, resting her arm across his chest. “Don’t look so surprised,” she stated. “This is what you wanted, isn’t it?”

Roy chuckled at the thought of being bested in his own antics. He instinctually wrapped an arm around her, hugging her close.  Maybe being blind won’t be so bad at all.

He began to turn on his side to give her more space. Her arm shot out to aid him so he wouldn’t fall off the edge, then relaxed in front of him. He could only guess he was staring right at her. They lied in comfortable silence.  

Roy could feel her quiet breath, the heat from her side of the bed, and smell the natural scent from her freshly washed hair. He didn’t need his eyes to see the soft expression she probably had in front of him, but he wished he did.

His hand glided over her shoulder, reaching her neck, thumbing the bandages. The result of her injuries. He frowned.  “How bad is it?”

“They cut the carotid artery.” She grabbed the base of index and middle finger, trailing up and down her bandaged neck. “It would have been bad if May didn’t act as soon as she did. I should be discharged in a day due to the loss of blood.” He felt the vibration of her voice through the dressing as she spoke.

Roy maneuvered his hand around hers and brought her fingers close to his face, nuzzling her hand. “I’m glad you’re okay.” He took the pleasure in imagining her blushing, though she did tense up. While she didn’t respond, he did feel her feet rub against his under the covers.  “How incredibly inappropriate, Miss Hawkeye. Footsies?”

 “I’d hardly consider any of this appropriate.” She quipped back. “And if you’re going to play this game, I may as well warm my feet.”

He hummed in response. “It won’t matter. Those honorably discharged papers will arrive any day.”

She immediately became frigid, snapping her hand away. “What about your goals, ambitions? What we’ve worked for?” She asked him, sounding insecure and irate for the first time a long time. Mustang could feel the glare she was burning into him. 

“Who’s going to believe in a man who can’t see the country he’s supposed to rebuild?” He asked, unintentionally letting a trace of dejection slip at the thought that his military career was prematurely over.

“I’d believe in the man who says he’ll get it done and honors his word through his actions.” Riza settled back down, closer to his torso.

“You’d believe in me?” He replied hopefully. 

“I’d believe in you.”

“How would I lead if I can’t tell which way is forward?”

“The same way you always have whenever you’ve been unsure: placing your trust in your men and your instincts.”

“Oh.” She made it sound so simple. Maybe it was, maybe the sun hadn’t set for him yet.

He could almost feel her smile into his chest, “I can tell we’re both hopeless, aren’t we?”   

“Beyond salvation,” he said. “I get the feeling we’ll make do somehow. As long as you’re with me.”

She nodded against him, “I haven’t strayed yet.”

“I noticed. But can you imagine yourself as a Flame Alchemist?” he asked, eyebrows raised in childish awe. “There’s a reason the Truth exists. We’d all be in trouble if you could use flame alchemy. You’d leave everyone in the dust. There’s got to be some fairness in the world.” She gave him an unexpected giggle masked behind the covers. He’d tease her for it later. “Now get out of my bed before someone walks in.” 

“Yes, sir,” she offered diligently.

There was a tiny pang from the depths of his stomach, a little sadness when she picked up the formalities again. He felt the bed sway as she turned away from him, lifting herself from his side and he sat up simultaneously.

Roy’s head turned unwillingly, guided by a pair of hands to look in the direction Riza was just in. He felt her move closer, until finally he felt her kiss him on his forehead. “Thank you, Roy,” she whispered to him. A smile erupted from his lips.

“Thank you, Riza.”