#young royai my beloved

[smoothshine]

Attention everyone, it's fluff alert!! One nice soft young!Royai piece coming right away for @fullmetalscullyy as my @fmasecretsanta gift for you, friend!:)

Happy holidays to you and everyone who is reading this, and I'll see y'all in the next year with more artsy (and other) stuff to come!

PS: separate pictures are under the cut <33

[soufflegirl]

the morning Riza meets Roy she had totally forgotten that her father's new apprentice was supposed to arrive that day, so she wakes up and goes to the kitchen sleepy and in her pjs only to find this cute 16-year-old boy sitting at the kitchen table with a book who smiles at her and is like, "Miss Hawkeye? Hi, I'm Roy, your fath-" and 13-year-old-Riza literally flees the room before he even finishes the sentence like:

[kangdae95draws]

Oookay i just found your account and oh my god I am in love. 😭💖💖

Saw your post about our Royai headcanons and I have a BUNCH, I will just tell you what I have and you can choose which one you like

Roy is a flower nerd, so he always likes filling the burn areas on Riza’s back with flower drawings. She just lays down and sleeps as he draws on her 🥹

Riza’s earrings are their engagement ring. Roy was broke and young when he proposed to her before Ishavl ( they broke up I think.) so he was surprised to see her still wearing the same earrings he gave her when they met again.

Roy and Riza eloped in secret, and their wedding bands are either on necklaces under their shirts or I saw someone say that Riza has a bracelet and Roy had a necklace as their wedding band which I also love so much

These are few Of my beloved headcanons💛💛 I hope you get inspired hehe

Hey! Thank you ❤️

I took the second prompt, Riza won't ever say what's the reason :')

Hope ya like it!

[koussevitzky]

Hello! Big Bang ask tiiiiiime!

I think you've answered most of the listed questions, so here are a few that aren't on the post if you don't mind. But also, if you haven't answered one and I missed it, consider that one asked as well!

Royai fics can covers such a long range of time! I know your story is pre-canon, but what era of fics do you generally gravitate toward in writing or reading? Pre-canon, during canon, or post-canon? Why? Is it different for writing vs reading?

Can you share another snippet of your story that you like? <3

Thanks for the ask, these are good questions! I'm super excited to read your fic as well!

This is my first time publishing a Royai fic, but now that I think about it, of the ones that I've semi-written or outlined in my head, they tend to lean pre-canon. As a reader, I'm nondiscriminatory and will read any era and don't really scope out any particular ones, but as a writer I like pre-canon because there's so much freedom there, especially for little one off stories like the one I wrote for the big bang where I don't want to worry to much about how it would fit into the canon narrative, especially when it comes to around the Promised Day, where the timeline is tight and our beloved babies are separated </3 I do think that if I do a longer form Royai fic in the future it will either be primarily pre-canon or an AU fic of some sort. As a reader, though, I love it all.

As for a passage to share...this one is interesting:

Roy was no more impatient than any young man, especially one on track to climb to the position of general before he hit thirty. But he was different. Riza knew he was different, and had to keep believing he was different. 

He let out a wry huff. “Your father of all people used to tell me to be patient, when I was his student.” Riza was tempted to tell him to stop discussing this, as ears could be anywhere, but this was probably the safest place to talk freely during work, and they hardly saw each other outside of work–very painfully and very deliberately.

Thank you again for the ask!

[fullmetalscullyy]

OOH for the fic thingy --

"better not to ask" and "the road left untravelled"

OH OH OH

ok

so

i'll be writing this in note form as i think of it. purely organically. brace yourselves lmao

and its also just for royai just because <3

OK SO.

i'm picking up what ur putting down my beloved MWAH TYYYYY

"better not to ask" - oooooh how about. person a (hawkeye lbr) going unhinged to Protect person b (mustang) for Reasons (its hand wavey~ idk). maybe he ends up unconscious and when he wake up there's discussion, what happened etc, and hawkeye just gets This Look... and is like "...better not to ask, sir"

but he sees The Look in her eye. he gets an Inkling. his gut twists and he feels guilty about bringing such a look upon her fine features, because of him... which is almost a constant with him.

so he does what she requests

he doesn't ask

OR. ON A MORE LIGHTHEARTED NOTE. bc that's always good. what about. a little bit of crack...?

picture this: there's Something, Some Occurrence in the office. havoc, breda, fuery and falman are all ~arguing~ - havoc and breda more loudly than the other two for shits and gigs. but the other two have their wee quips which only subtly fuels the fire bc their banter is still top notch 🩷

there's ~shenanigans~

and roy walks is like bruh. wtf is happening below these ceiling panels. what am i witnessing.

and riza is just like "bro. sir. better not to ask"

LITTLE DID WE KNOW SHE'S THE INSTIGATOR MWAHAHHA and is causing chaos and banter and good times bc yeah. even tho they're going ape, its a good time. good vibes!! and roy grins despite it all in the chaos bc these are His People, His Chaos

"the road left untravelled" - OHHHHH THE THOUGHTS I HAVE THUNK. the daydreams i have dreamt for this moment.

thoughts of "what if...." infiltrating my brain....

like. i mean, i already did a "what if riza never went to war" which was a blast and a delight to flirt with mwah. and related to exploring that road which was untravelled between them - being together, loving each other openly, etc

but... i'm thinking young royai...... - not to take away from his character, but what if... roy didn't pursue alchemy as fully as he did in canon (fr those fanfic.net fics were my lifeblood back in the day <333). what if he still sought it out, but found it worth more to stick around for the master's daughter?

(🥺)

a butterfly flapping its wings and all that

or!

it's late. roy is dropping off/relaying something work related to riza.

at her Personal Apartment (shock, horror)

only for them to travel down.... the road which had always been left unravelled

WINK WONK

[aliflower88]

Young royai my beloved 🧡🤎

[poppy-pelican]

One of the reasons my latest major WIP is Royai with a big side of Almei is because I see a lot of parallels between the pairings.

Met when they were young

Went through something traumatic together

Roy burns Riza to hide her tattoo/Mei helps Al trade his soul for Ed’s arm

Make each other stronger: Mei teaches Al alkhestry/Riza gives Roy flame alchemy

Work well together as partners in combat

Mei and Riza both have beloved black and white pets

Al and Roy are both snazzy dressers (okay that is a stretch but it’s true)

Both pairings would freaking die for each other

I’m sure there’s more, but that’s just off the top of my head. I’ve been wondering if Arakawa did this on purpose, or if she just has certain themes she returns to as a writer. Hmm...

[honeyviscera]

Hehe blorbo ask game for fmab!!

GAAAAH THANK YOUUUU FRUITY AND BAZ!!!!!! <3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <- so many hearts for you guys!!!!!! (@peplos)

blorbo (favorite character, character I think about the most): this is hard bc all of them are Beloved, but... ling. i would say ling, i love him a lot and i want him to be happy!!!! he's funny and obnoxious on purpose (him robbing ed of all his food & money (to use for food) is such a good gag his dynamic w/ ed is So Funny) and he cares so much about others, and for all his efforts to be the Silly Funny Guy he's so smart and he Cares, and I can tell that he needs to be Held, I LOVE HIM SOOOOO MUCHHHH!!!!! WONDERFUL BOY IM GIVING HIM A HUG <3333

scrunkly (my “baby”, character that gives me cuteness aggression, character that is So Shaped) THAT WOULD BE MAY!!!! MAY MY SWEETHEART MY DEAREST LOVE MY DARLING. MY DAUGHTER MY LITTLE SISTER MY SWEETY!!!!! She's so young!!! She's so kind!!! She appoints Scar to be her Father Figure and he Cares about her and risks his life for her (which I would argue to be the start of his road to redemption and recovery!!!! their dynamic is great!!!!) SHE CARES SO MUCH ABOUT EVERYONE AND SHE'S ADORABLE I LOVE HER IM HOLDING HER SO GENTLYYYYY

scrimblo bimblo (underrated/underappreciated fave) RIZA HAWKEYE (even though she's very much appreciated she deserves Even More OKAY) GOSH I LOVE HER. She's super skilled and good at what she does and even though she's more of the Brick Wall character she gets to be emotional and she gets to cry and she gets to be angry and she gets to be regretful and she's never 'weak' for her emotions, she's never portrayed as being unreasonable and that's just so GOOD. her relationship with roy is the fucking best thing ever okay. it's about the mutual respect that's been built over a decade, the deep trust and understanding, their secret codes, their teamwork, the compassion they have for each other, their banter ETC. ROYAI SHIP OF ALL TIME ANYWAYS. Riza is so good i love her so muchhhh!!!! She has so much depth and she constantly works to support roy in their goal to overthrow the government she is SO GOOD IM NOT SAYING ENOUGH HERE JUST KNOW I LOVE RIZA I ALSO LOVE ROY.

glup shitto (obscure fave, character that can appear in the background for 0.2 seconds and I won’t shut up about it for a week) MAJOR GENERAL OLIVIER MIRA ARMSTRONG!!!!!!! AAAGH I LOVE HER!!!! first of all, woman with a sword!!!!! automatic points!!! SECOND OF ALL: SHE'S SUCH AN AMAZING CHARACTER she's tough as all hell BUT she's NOT CRUEL, literally all the soldiers at Briggs are loyal as FUCK to her because of her outstanding leadership!!! she's so smart and clever too, and she strives forward no matter what out of sheer force of will and resolve. you might think she's the stereotypical 'tough emotionless Strong (tm) woman who is a brick wall and can punch things' BUT NO SHE HAS DEPTH OK. AND SHE GENUINELY CARES ABOUT HER TROOPS ESPECIALLY MILES AND BUCCANEER. ANYWAYS I LOVE HER <3

poor little meow meow (“problematic”/unpopular/controversial/otherwise pathetic fave) GREED GREED GREED. GOD. HE'S SO!!! he wants More for himself all the time, but mostly he just wants a life that he chooses, and he chooses People, Friends, Humans, every time, he becomes more like a human BECAUSE all he really wants are friends, he goes beyond what he's 'supposed' to be, he's the 'rebellious' child of the family for choosing his own path, he thinks he wants Everything, he says so but then!!!!! all he wants are friends, people to love him and I!!!!! AUGHHHH. HE BECOMES MORE HUMAN THROUGH HIS FRIENDS. CATCH ME FUCKING SOBBING.

ALSO. hohenheim okay. at first i was like hm. >:/ absentee father. but he just. he thought himself so monstrous that he could never be a parent, and he didn't know what to do, he only left because he thought himself irredeemable but he Tries, and even if his actions did end up harming ed and al, he was genuinely trying his best and he Cares about so much, he thinks about so much, god i find myslef crying over him i just!!!! AUGHHHH HE TRIES SO HARD TO BE GOOD EVEN IF HE DOESN'T KNOW HOW TO BE. FUCK.

horse plinko (character I would torment for fun, for whatever reason) well I would only torment him affectionately, not actually being mean, but roy mustang. lol (don't get me wrong i seriously love him, he's so well written and he has so much depth he pretends to be a manwhore but he's so not it's all part of his cunning and cleverness, he's smart and resilient and his relationship with riza GOD) anyways i would poke him with a stick why did he think putting a 12 year old in the military was smart lol. also i love that moment where he lies to ed and then later to riza was like 'oh lol ik what you're going to say, that was soo soft of me haha' and then riza's like 'more like a fucking dick move, sir'

eeby deeby (character I would send to superhell) hm. superhell (derogatory) for Father of course. ALSO KIMBLEE. KIMBLEE CAN GET FUCKED.

[smoothshine]

No thoughts, just Roy and Riza being all young and silly and surely not getting a teenage crush on each other.

PS: More intel under the cut :)

Bonus: in-real-life version, because I just like this photo.

[soufflegirl]

class clown 16 years old Roy who showed off to make the young introverted quiet Riza laugh

[ymir-me]

oooo i'm very intrigued by the royai once upon a time au!! 👀👀👀

Emma my beloved!!! So am I lmaooo basically I made up my own fairytale! The young emperor of Xing, Roy, receives a peculiar gift, a mirror, from the Amestrian delegation. He’ll soon find out the mirror has magical powers... 👀👀

[by-nina]

For auld lang syne, my dear (Coda)

AO3 | FFN Part III of For auld lang syne, my dear Rating: K+ Genre: Romance Word Count: 1,796

A/N: While it’s still January, it’s still a new year. So here’s the end of this story about dancing into a new year! Thanks to everyone who has followed this series, and special thanks to @megthemighty for having old Royai on her wishlist. I couldn’t not do it.

Roy turns quickly to Riza; the sight of her is enough to answer all of his questions. Her hair is more silver than blonde now, and her face has earned wrinkles for all her trouble of working with him all these years, seeing each plan through until the end. More importantly, it is a face that has never left his life.

The years pass one after the other, a decade lapses into the next. Then, the day comes for Roy Mustang to welcome one final new year as the Führer of Amestris.

It passes like every New Year’s Eve that has come before. The streets come alive with high spirits at the stroke of midnight, the sky blooming into brilliant red and green and gold against deep black. Friends come together in an embrace, children are lifted onto their fathers’ shoulders so they could watch the fireworks over the crowd, lovers kiss. Lovers dance. The music is as it has always been; throughout Central, the same traditional song of many New Year’s Eves past echoes down every street and in every citizen’s voice. An accompaniment for memories gone by and new beginnings yet to come.

This all goes on for fifteen minutes before the Führer’s men usher him forward to deliver a message to the public. Without an introduction, the revelers fall into a reverent silence, gazing at him upon the stage at the head of the plaza. There it is for one last time, that quintessential image of Roy Mustang at the podium, sure to be armed with words that are all at once soothing, inspiring, rallying, and most of all sincere. The crowd waits in awe and melancholy.

“My dear fellow Amestrians…”

His voice has kept the verve of his youth, albeit roughened by the years gone by.

“… I am filled with many emotions as I stand here before you tonight. First, I am delighted to join you in celebration of New Year’s Day, even more so to see you with your loved ones on this joyous occasion, safe, healthy, and hopeful as we begin another year of traversing the road we have built together for our great country.”

He pauses, his next words catching in his throat. He allows himself a moment’s glance to his right where she stands at attention, the people’s beloved Lieutenant Colonel Riza Hawkeye. As always, she is quick to catch his hesitation and subtle about her response. She meets his gaze, gives a small, imperceptible nod, seeming to everyone else like she didn’t move at all. He sees it, of course, and so he offers her a smile for barely even a second before he looks out to the plaza again.

“At the same time, it is with a heavy heart that I am welcoming the new year with you as your Führer for the last time.” Even the air seems to have turned still. “These twenty years have been devoted to shaping Amestris into a country whose heart beats with its people and for its people. With your unwavering support and belief in a future that belongs to you and not to one single institution or person in power, we have made this possible, and in the spring, you will be electing your very first President as a democratic nation.”

He stops for the thunderous applause that erupts throughout the crowd. There is hollering, triumphant exclamations, fists pumped in the air and arms linked together. It lasts for a minute or two before gradually but not completely fading into silence, and he continues. “And though I long to serve you for many more years, I take comfort in the knowledge of what I leave in your hands to protect. An Amestris that stands for what is just and right, where man and woman, rich and poor, black and white may stand together. Living equally, studying equally, eating and drinking equally… and loving equally.” Another pause. “And this can only be nurtured through you, the upstanding servants that you will soon choose to lead you, and we cannot forget the Ishval Tribunal by whose hard work we shall soon truly mend our country’s wrongs.

“My deepest, sincerest thanks to you all, and a happy New Year.”

Roy makes his way home quietly two hours later, after the festivities have died down. It’s the quietest drive he has been on, and the first he’s had with Riza in a very long time. Being the Führer, he sits in the back, as was their arrangement for a time when she had just become his adjutant many years ago. From there, he watches her drive, her eyes clear with focus, her hands firm on the wheel.

“I hope I haven’t kept you from a good night’s rest,” he says.

“I’d appreciate your concern, Sir,” she replies, “if you had asked me that four decades ago.”

Their eyes meet for a moment in the rear-view mirror, sharing a knowing, laughing look. Riza turns her attention back onto the road, and Roy continues staring at her reflection long after. He pairs it with a fond smile.

“I’ll drop you off at the front steps.”

After a moment, he responds quietly, “The garden, please, Lieutenant Colonel.”

Her fingers flex on the wheel in recognition of the invitation beneath his order. Riza says nothing other than, “Of course.”

The Führer’s palace is largely surrounded by lush orchards that hide the estate from public view, but “the garden” is an open expanse of flowering shrubs over a well-manicured slope behind the palace. It offers a view of part of Central and has served as a hideaway for Roy on nights when he has been stressed about politics as well as bothered by other, more personal things. For the former, Riza has accompanied him as his confidante, an adviser, a friend. For the latter, Roy has needed only to think of her.

Alighting the car, they walk quietly into the garden, steps perfectly synchronized and the distance between them constant. Riza remains behind him, her eyes surely watching him as they always have—Roy knows exactly how her gaze feels on him, even when he isn’t returning it. He is tempted to, but he walks on, searching for a word to describe the feeling and how it relates to the shiver running through him, the warmth blooming in his chest, and then he stops in his tracks. Riza follows suit. He looks up at the view stretching up to the horizon, the city still aglow with the remnants of the night’s celebrations, and he lets out a breath of disbelief.

“I can’t believe how far we’ve come.”

The words, uttered barely under his breath, give Roy release and clarity. It’s as if it were much earlier in the night and he were more awake.

“This is all we have worked for,” he continues. “All these years… all the plans we made, the dreams we’ve had for this country… it’s what all this time has been for. All our work, all our…” His voice begins to quiver, and he sounds most like his younger self now. “… promises.”

Roy looks down, away from the view. “Is it true, Lieutenant Colonel?”

“What is?” Riza whispers.

“Have we really done all that we’ve meant to do? It’s just… it’s all too good to be true, isn’t it? Everything happened so fast, these twenty years as the Führer are all a blur. Have I done enough for our people? Will they be happy with all of it? The reforms, the tribunal, the elections, the…”

He trails off, the words sinking into him as something of a revelation. Roy turns quickly to Riza; the sight of her is enough to answer all of his questions. Her hair is more silver than blonde now, and her face has earned wrinkles for all her trouble of working with him all these years, seeing each plan through until the end. More importantly, it is a face that has never left his life. There he sees the twirling girl from Cameron, his young adjutant, the first woman he ever loved, and the most devoted Lieutenant Colonel in Amestris, his right hand, the only woman he has ever loved.

Riza looks at him with an understanding he has only ever known from her. She nods, smiling. “It’s true,” she says. “I should know. We’ve been together long enough.”

She could never lie to him, not after all this time.

“Lieutenant Colonel Hawkeye.”

“General Mustang.”

Roy steps forward, closer to her.

“Riza.” He whispers her name as though he were being careful with it.

“... Roy.”

He extends his hand to her.

“Will you dance with me?”

When she takes his hand, when they pull each other close, it feels natural, easy even without any kind of rehearsal. Roy moves as she does, following her steps and letting her follow his. Riza no longer hesitates to touch like she did in the past. It's a dance of mostly swaying and turning in place, perhaps because it's all their tired bodies can allow at the moment, or because it's all they need to make of it. The rhythm isn't any different from any of the other things they've been able to do together, anyway, like taking their places at the same table or walking side by side. They know each other in this moment just as well as they have in any other.

They dance quietly until he begins to sing the Amestris holiday song in her ear. It’s far from the rendition he first gave her all those years ago—his voice breaks off quite a bit, underscored by breaths and a rumble that wasn't there at seventeen—but the circumstances are so different that it feels like the first time once again. Then, he falters at the last note and fades back into silence, because by now he can only continue the song one other way.

The first kiss, he leaves on her hand, which he brings easily to his lips from their positions as they dance.

The second, he places on her cheek, almost like a whisper, even though there is no secret they need to keep anymore.

And the third—the third dissipates in the scant, delicate space between them, because he is overwhelmed just by being near her. All they do instead is face each other, foreheads touching, lips close but still apart. For the first time, they are physically close enough not to yearn to get closer, close enough to melt by a flame they cannot even see or touch.

Neither of them knows how long they dance or when they stop. It ends with them standing perfectly still and embracing each other under the deep blue sky between late night and dawn. They’ve always understood each other even without words, but for the first time they are quiet because there is nothing left to say, no more unkept promises—not to their country, not to each other.

Nothing, at least, except, "Happy New Year."

The words hold a new promise: a dance that will go on for the rest of their days.

[zuffer-weird-girl]

Mano eu amo vc kkklkklk só entro aqui pelo meu amado Royai , Todomomo e por Vc , amo headcannons do Chisaki com enfermeiras 😏 queria ele com uma no tartarus , e ele dando chilique pq só quer ser atendido por ela kkkkk ( se não for abusar ) bjs

"Man I love you kkklkklk I only come here for my beloved Royai, Todomomo and for you, I love Chisaki's headcannons with nurses 😏 I wanted him with one at the tartarus, and he giving a tantrum because he just wants to be attended to by her kkkkk (if not to abuse) kisses"

"MISS (L/N)!" a young male nurse had just barged into the room you were currently on, and the poor thing seemed both devasted and like he was attacked by something.

"Woah there kiddo calm down!" You exclaimed while getting up, holding the poor young worker's shoulder as he breathed in and out desperately, somehow finding comfort in you again. "What's wrong? Did you went to All for One's cell and he sayed bullshit and then you fell down the stairs?" You giggled while the poor young man growled.

Being a worker on the the most famous villains prison always did indeed messes up with your mind... Tartarus had the most dangerous and cruelest villains ever that Japan had, and clearly sometimes ghey did messed up with tbe workers minds... or at least try it to.

"N-no... please just go talk with the guard outside. I can't deal with this anymore. I don't get ONE STEP closer to that man's cell!" He exclaimed while abruptly getting a cup of coffee on the machine.

You blinked at that and hesitantly walked out of the rest room to be met with one guard and your superior.

"Good morning gentlemans. What's gotten into him?" The guard huffed a puff of irritated air as he pointed with his chin at one direction while your superior sighed in desperation.

"The same thing that happened with the other four nurses that covered your shift on that man's cell (Y/n)... no one can enter that place besides you, is a fact by now." You tilted your head in confusion before the guard manifested.

"That bastard Chisaki, miss (y/n). Even without his arms the son of a bitch can still kick anyone's ass who dares to take one step inside his cell.... except you apparently. "

You really had to hold back your laughter at that one.

Overhaul, Chisaki Kai. He was the new prisoner that had just got in Tartarus one year by now... you were the first; your coworkers sayed 'poor soul'; one to get inside and talk face to face with the villain as you explained to him.

His eyes were so empty and yet so full of terror... only nodding and shooking his head numbly, not even dating to meet your eyes... but even despite that he was still a very arrogant and stubborn man, not letting you touch him by any means for the first few visits you made.

You were patient though... making small conversations, slowly getting why he was here exactly... hearing him talk instead of hearing humors or reading his profile.

After some weeks he allowed you to touch him with gloves; you threatened to his wounds and let him vent... you knew he needed that more than anything by that moment, and you were more than glad to hear that beautiful voice...

After you hearf what exactly took his arms away you were shocked, disgusted and sad... surprising the man in so many levels.

After months of talkating, threating and knowing each other, he was slightly infatuated by you, and the moment you explained to him you were quirkless was just the cherry on top for Chisaki to threat you completely different than his forst meeting with you.

He wouldn't at least complain THAT MUCH when you feeded him at least... both arms losted made the simplest activities seem like it was impossible.

Although there was this one time you couldn't come and sended one friend of yours instead while you took care of a newbie on the prison..

Poor woman came back traumatized and asked to leave her job the next day.

Then another time when you were sick, knewing about Chisaki's mysophobia you asked gently another coworker to go in there instead of you.

The man came back with a beaten up face and in the end the nurse needed to be treated...

This happened at least four times by now... and always ended on the same thing.

"(Y/N), not even us can enter his cell. He knocked out at least five or six guards of ours..." the man exhale desperate.

"And had the nerve of demanding your presence and leaving me with a damn scar on the left side of my face." Yhe guard showed it to you the medium scar adoring his jaw.

"Jesus Christ..." you whispered with widen eyes as you sended him to see the nurse inside, he had a minor healing quirk to that would help a bit... at least.

"Please (y/n) go into his cell, he hadn't eaten anything the whole day and didn't changed his bandages... and with the fight he had with our guards and nurse he surely afquired more bruises." You nodded before picking your stuff and walking towards Overhaul's cell.

You placed your card and passed through the door which quickly closed, safety measures in there were serious, as you looked around the cell and smiled at seing the back of the man sitting on his bed.

"You need to stop doing that you know?" Your voice caught his attention as he turned his front to you with a monotonously look while you gave him a sweet but yet nervous smile, pointing at outside.

"Poor thing looked like he had just come out of a war! What did you even do?" You picked a washcloth and rubbed the hints of blood from the walls, which you couldn't help but wince.

"They sended a incompetent useless brat that surely wouldn't be fit for a decent job." He said numbly before sighing when you sitted on a chair next to his bed.

"Then I do a 'decent job' then?" You giggled while he only stared back at you "I will have you know that one of the womans that came in here were one of our best nurses... until she left her work after covering me that timr." You eyed him with a cocky smile and a eyebrow lifted up.

"Didn't sound like she was. And don't get full of yourself now, you just happen to be only one I can atture." He growled, easing up a bit at hearing your giggling a apology.

Such a sweet thing on this dark, depressed and dangerous place... how surprised yet blessed was he?

Did he really deserved any of your kindness? Any of your sweet as honey words?

You brought up on your bag before breaking apart the chopsticks. He arched kne eyebrow at it before noticing that the usual disgusting food or soup; gosh he hated soup more than germs; that he was served at tartarus weren't in the room.

Placing the pieces together he sighed in annoyance and embarrassment before laying his head on the wall.

"You will be fired for that idiot. Giving a prisoner proper food instead of that disgusting and nauseous things..." you look up at him, already a takoyaki on the chopsticks.

"Don't worry." You chirped "First I told them this was my lunch, then after I lost the hunger. Simple as that!" You sayed cutely while he deadpanned.

"What a poor and dumb strategy."

"Hey! Is a good one!"

"No of course it isn't." He showed with his chin at the camera "Those sick can see us and hear us by now."

"Only see. And like my genius plan will work, we've got nothing to worry about it!"

"You will be fired." He said monotonously but still feeling a painful bitter grow on his chest.

You being fired meaned that you weren't coming back. Others will try to replace you... dumb and idiotics... no one could replace such a divine creature.

"Actually I don't think I would be fired... especially when I am the only one that enters in here that Isn't... you know, knocked out or simply left here terrified of everthing."

He hummed in annoyance before frowning at seing you standing a bit of the food you had for him to eat.

He had to control really hard to not to blush.. he never ever had these problems, so why with you was so... warm and left him without air?

He reluctantly parted his lips, averting his eyes before you placed gently the food inside his mouth.

He sighed in bliss at not feeling the lifeless taste he was used to by now or the disgusting misoshiro soup they offered. The flavors on his mouth giving him a moment.

"Is it good?" He nodded monotonously still munching slowly, averting his gaze away from your at seing you had smiled sweetly at him. "That's a good thing Chisaki-kun!"

He swallowed before feeling shivers of displeasure at hearing that name, he wasn't Overhaul anymore and had demanded you to not call him that either... but his first name? Were you even going to accept it?

"Chisaki? Don't want the rest?" Your voice broked him out of his thoughts as he looked at you extending another small amount of food to him again.

He growled again before accepting and opening his mouth again.

This was humiliating...

After he finished you were relieved at least, since your superior had told you that Chisaki havent eaten anything since your last visit...

"Kai." He suddenly said before you offered him a cup of water.

"Huh?"

"Call me this. Do not call me 'Chisaki-kun', it sound ridiculous, so call me 'Kai' instead."

He looked at you from the conor of his eye and got surprised at seing the hint of pink on your cheeks.

"Ok then.. Kai." You smiled warmly at him and for the first time that you ever met this man, he half smiled.

You wanted to scream at the sign, despite being a villain, you couldn't deny that Chisaki was attractive, but seing him smile? It was just another level.

"U-uh.. Oh! I remembered!" You messed around on your bag before taking out a black surgeon mask, his eyes widening a bit at the sign. "I brought this for you. Sorry for taking too long, im such a cloud head!" You rubbed the back of your neck in embarrassment as his eyes still were pierced to the mask.

"Why...?" He asked sorely and weakly, making your soine go cold.

"Well, I know how you aren't the most comfortable in here, and also your mysophobia... so I went to look for masks, but I knew you also prefered black so it took me a while to find it... the majority of them are always white or even blue..."

He looked up at you, eyes full of disbelief yet shock.

"C-Can I put it for you?" It ook a bit of time for him to answer back before he slowly but suspiciously nodded.

Instead of feeling jis skin errup in irritation, he felt waves of electricity and warmth surround all of his body when he felt the tinies and quickiest brush of your fingers on both sides of his face.

He arched one of his eyebrows at you when he heard your whine when you got back. Silently demanding a explanation for that sound.

"Is just that... now I can't see your smile neither your whole beautiful face anymore..." you immediately smacked a hand over your mouth in panic.

Did you really just said that OUT LOUD?!

His low disbelieved yet relieved chuckle made you ease uo a bit before tensing at seing how tjose golden eyes were luff red, but knowing him, he wouldn't let any tear fall, evem if he needed.

"I think you're mistaken things here... you're the... you still have bkth of your arms and also are the... beautiful one... not the lther way around... I'm hideous... not from outside, but inside... can't you see..?" he swallowed the sob before he saw your own eyes tearing up.

"Why are you crying for now?" He asked quite angrily before returning to his cold composture again.

"I guess... its because I think you're the last lerson that deserved to go through this..."

"You're a idiot." He dropped his head hund low "I know you readed and know what I've done, so stop pretending-"

"You just wanted to repay your father... righ Kai?"

He felt his body freeze at your commentary, he slowly looked up at you and cri ged at the sign of you, ghe most beautiful and pure person he ever saw, crying because of him.

"I know how you feel... I'm so sorry. The yakusa shouldn't had ended in that way..."

Before he knew it a sob escaped from his mouth and he immediately cursed out loud. He felt your arms envelope around him, not feeling irritated but instead... relieved.

"I can check on him if you want..." you offered as his silent tears fell from his eyes.

"I did that to him...he just wouldn't accept it and I did that with him... I-" he interrupted himself at feeling your hand to pat his head gently.

"I know... I know." He let himself relax at your body, it was way comfortable than that project of bed of his...

"You better had showered and not to tell this-"

"Showered at least two times today and why would I tell this to someone?" You asked while resting your head on his neck as he did the same with your head.

"... I have no idea. You're definitely the most weird perso I ever met... and I have met plenty."

"Is that a good or a bad thing at least?"

"...good. A... good thing. A weird... angel.." you widened your eyes and vlushed furiously at hearing of what he called you.

You looked up and saw how his eyes were peaceful closed... poor man didn't get good sleep...

A guard passed through and you made a signal to him, clearly telling him to go away and that you were spending your whole shift on here.

You were falling for this criminal... it was wrong? Deadass wrong... but you couldn't control it.

Both of you had putted each other on a spell and didn't even knew it...

[zitruseis]

List which 5 TV shows make you feel better then tag 10 other blogs.

I was tagged by @superunicat. This was quite hard for me, because to a certain degree I love shows that hurt me. In fact, most on this list have made me at least a little bit sad. But also, most of these balance the sad with positive and that seems to work better for me than just purely fluffy shows. 5. Lucifer There’s something I really like about the characters and their relationships that always cheers me up. Also, it’s really nice to have several major characters that are bi/pan. (Maze being my favourite, I love her so much.)

4. Miss Fisher’s Murder Mysteries I love the old-fashioned detective story vibes of this one. Also, it’s super charismatic, badass protagonist. And most of the other major and recurring characters, really. (And of course the sexual tension, because that’s the kind of person I am.)

3. Slayers I was introduced to this anime when I was a pretty young teenager and became obsessed with it. It was like watching a bunch of very chaotic D&D campaigns that parodied all of my beloved fantasy tropes. I’ve seen it many, many times and watching it these days is like meeting with an old friend.

2. Fullmetal Alchemist: Brotherhood Granted, there are some pretty heartbreaking and horrific things in this one. But one of the central messages is that you can always try and make the world better and more just, and I think it delivers it really well. It helps that it has a good balance between tragedy, comedy and action. Also, the relationships... I’m usually not a fan of childhood friend romances, but I have to smile everytime I think of that proposal scene. Edward and Alphonse is easily one of my favorite depiction of siblings. Yeah, they bicker and tease a lot, but they always have each other’s back. And I won’t say anything about Royai, because that would fill up the whole post and I still need some space for...

1. Good Omens This one should count as an anti-depressant. I fell in love with it during the first scene and I can watch it over and over again without getting tired of it. With the amount of small details, I discover something new with each rewatch or realize something about the world and the characters that I hadn’t before. Then there’s the ineffable husbands themselves, who are just a delight. Overall, it’s so obvious how much love went into making the show and it’s infectious.

I won’t be tagging anyone for this, because I don’t feel comfortable with it today. But anyone who follows me and wants to do this can consider themselves tagged. I’d love to read more of these. :)

[flourchildwrites]

64 and 25 on the AU mashup. I know I usually ask for Royai, but this time around can I request Havolina? Please? :D Thank you

A/N:  Oh my, @ruikosakuragi !  I fell in love with this prompt the moment I saw it.   You requested numbers 64 (star crossed lovers) and 25 (fairy tale AU) with a havolina ship.  And when I sat down to write, I was in a terrible, terrible funk.  Nothing like a little havolina angst to put me in a better mood.  (We don’t have time to unpack why writing angst brightens my day.)  Thank you for this prompt, and thanks for being one of my favorite readers and writers!

Read on AO3

Whenever Jean Havoc went missing, his mother knew where to find him.  Up the stone staircases of the ivy encased castle, through corridors cloaked in thick tapestries bearing the Armstrong family crest and into the hall of portraits she went.  A young boy of 12, already a knight in training, stared up at a dark-haired woman with enigmatic eyes and a kind smile.  Squire Havoc didn’t put much stock in the written word; he preferred his daggers and swords, but he learned enough to decipher her name, etched into the golden plaque beneath the frame.

Princess Rebecca Talia of Catalina

La Belle au bois dormant

The boy was favored amongst the castles’ inhabitants.  With sun-bleached hair, boyish freckles and a penchant for lighthearted mischief, he captured the hearts of every last scullery maid and made fast friends with the king’s young son, Alexander, a mere six months Havoc’s junior.  His mother, Claudia frowned, as she watched her boy munch a stolen croissant from the kitchens while he gazed longingly at the portrait.  Practically the only person who had not taken a shine to Jean was the queen, and her bedchambers were too close for comfort.

“Come away from there, my son,” Claudia beckoned.  “Come quickly before the queen sees you.  Why must you always return to this picture?”

Young Jean sighed, shoulders hunched forward as he tore his eyes away from the old portrait and heeded his mother’s call.  He didn’t know why he returned to gaze at the woman day after day, sneaking up from the stables with straw in his sleeves and mud on his boots.  But there was an undeniable connection, a pull in her directions like an invisible string of fate that bound them together no matter how far he strayed.  Still, Havoc knew his mother had no stomach for such fairy tales.

“I like to keep her company,” he answered.  “She’s so pretty, but her eyes are lonely.  Don’t you think?”

Claudia grabbed her son’s hand and guided him quickly through the castle with featherlight footsteps.  “I shouldn’t like to find you there again,” she said pointedly as if she knew he would return regardless.

Jean understood her perfectly.

…

Sixteen-year-old Jean visited her in the night when the light of the full moon spilled through the windows of the castle.  While other senior squires warmed the beds of those with bodies, the sins of the flesh never occupied Jean for long.  He loved them but left them with ease, ever drawn to the beloved portrait of Rebecca.

In his youth, Jean had always known to her to beautiful.  But as the years passed, the young squire noticed the fullness of her rosy lips and the blush in her cheek.  The swell of her breasts entranced him further, hastening lustful dreams where she led him toward a cobwebbed bedchamber.  Still, Rebecca’s chestnut eyes were her most alluring feature.  Ever pleading, wanting the company of a man who lived a century after the date scribbled in the corner of the painting.

“Who goes there?”  A booming voice interrupted Havoc’s reverie, sounding from down the hall.

Jean stirred, muscles sluggish from the day’s exertions.  It might have been better to turn tail, but the squire stood his ground.  He adopted an unassuming posture and ran a hand through his unkempt hair.

“Just me, Prince Alexander,” he announced.  “Squire Jean.”

The prince approached with heavy footfalls against the thick, red rug.  Even in his night clothes, Alex looked intimidating, burly and otherwise big.  His muscles tested the elasticity of his night tunic.

“I might have known,” he chuckled.  “You’re not here for my sister Catherine, are you?  I’d hate to have to challenge you to a duel, friend.”

“Too young,” Havoc smirked, cocky as ever.  “I’ve always liked this painting.  The woman in it is… There’s no one else like her.  Too bad she’s long gone.”

Alex grinned, too broadly for Jean to ignore.  He was a terrible liar at the best of times, and he loved gossip more than the washerwomen who babbled ceaselessly as they worked.  Havoc cast the prince an expectant sideways glance.

“Isn’t she dead?  What aren’t you telling me, Alex?”

The prince kept his own counsel for a moment, no more, before letting loose the story of sleeping beauty, Princess Rebecca, with glee.  Enchanted by a bitter alchemist as an infant, the young women fell victim to a ghastly prophecy.  In retaliation for her father’s hubris, she plucked her finger on a splinter while spinning flax and fell into an endless slumber.

“The sage Hohenheim managed to save her,” Alex explained, “but his counter-circle put the rest of Catalina to sleep in exchange for the princess’s life.  His prophecy foretells that she will sleep until the firstborn son of the Southern Kingdom’s 12th king wakes her. And should she rule with him standing by her side, their united kingdoms will be prosperous.”

Havoc could barely believe his ears.  He made a face dripping with incredulity.  “And how much longer does the princess have to wait?”

“Until I wake her with a kiss,” Alex replied.  “The firstborn son of the 12th king is me.”

…

“Ami Jean, lève ton verre, et surtout, ne le renverse pas!  Et porte-le du frontibus…”

King Alexander’s boisterous song rattled the dust from the rafters in the great hall as he drunkenly lumbered amidst the merrymaking.  The knighting ceremony was a festive occasion, beloved by the Southern Kingdom for its pageantry and splendor.  Sir Vato sat in deep conversation with a Northern scholar as Sir Roy and Dame Riza cut striking figures on the dance floor.  The pair’s silver armor glinted in the soft candlelight as they sashayed past Sir Kain, his arm draped over the shoulders of an attractive stable hand.

Claudia caught her son’s eye from around the curtain of the servant’s quarters.  The proud glint of her gaze spoke of volumes of pride, and Sir Jean grinned dashingly in response with a toast in her direction.  Claudia, whose once brown hair was now stained by starlight, would never be permitted to make merry with her son, but she watched, happy for his good fortune.  And Havoc silently thanked the anonymous benefactor who championed his cause all the way to knighthood.

“Sir Jean!”  Havoc turned, searching for the regal body matching the royal voice.  Its owner appeared behind him, dressed in decadent purple robes.

“King Alexander.”  Jean bowed with the balanced poise.

“None of that now, Havoc,” the king chuckled.  “We’ve known each other too long to be beholden to formalities.”

“My greatest ambition is to be of service to you, sire.”  The practiced words fell from his lips like butter, and not for the first time, Havoc wondered if he meant them.

“Then be of service, you shall,” he announced.  “My father has been dead these nine months, and I find myself in want of a queen before my coronation.  You will help me fetch her.”

Jean hadn’t visited Princess Rebecca’s portrait in quite some time, and at the age of 21, he had seemingly caught up to her.  Nevertheless, time had ticked by quicker since King Phillip has passed.  All eyes had turned to his friend, Alex.

“I hardly think you’d need me to help you find a wife,” Sir Jean offered.  “Lady Maria, for example, seems up to the task, and you like her, as I recall.”

“I do like her, but,” Alex pulled Jean in close, ducking his head to whisper in his ear, “Lady Maria will not bring prosperity to my kingdom and unite us with the Catalina territory.  I want her.  I want Princess Rebecca.  Are you with me, Sir Jean?”

Who was a knight to refuse his king?

…

The bramble of thorns encasing the Catalina territory was worse than expected.  Poisonous fog stung the eyes and hovered low to the ground, claiming the lives of the wounded fallen.  Dark creatures of legend and myth with tattered black wings swooped from the skies to pierce intruders with their filthy claws. Early on, Sir Roy was blinded by the gas, and Dame Riza nearly bled out after being attacked by a vicious airborne beast.  Sirs Heymans and Kain escorted their fellows back to the relative safety of the Southern Kingdom.

And on the fifth day, madness set in; King Alexander was affected.

Summoning all his mental fortitude, Jean pressed onward with his ruler in tow.  He grabbed the reins of the king’s horse and followed his instincts.  The young knight’s sense of direction was clouded by muck and mire of his mind’s own creation, but something primal stirred, pulling Havoc along a clear path hidden in the quagmire.

At daybreak, he saw the tall turrets of an ancient castle, older and more massive than any building in the Southern Kingdom.  At the foot of the castle, royal guards in dust-covered tunics slumbered, slumped against the frigid stone; their weapons still poised in their hands.  The air was stale, but decay had inexplicably spared the old Kingdom of Catalina.  Every detail of daily life was still and held static, tinged with a purple glow, the calling card of alchemical mayhem.

“Oh mon Dieu! It’s true,” Jean gasped.  He took in greedy breaths of clean, if dank, air.  Alongside him, Alex followed suit, recovering from his mania.

“I should name my firstborn son after you if we live through this,” Alex said, coughing.  “How did you know that way?”

“Just lucky, I guess,” he quipped, ever the picture of ease under pressure.

Sir Jean and King Alexander navigated the winding staircases of Catalina castle.  Climbing ever higher, they sought the tallest turret of the highest tower, a room that kissed the edges of the darkened clouds overhead. ��Somewhere along the way, Sir Jean’s feet began to move of their own accord.  Without rhyme or reason, he followed a siren’s call, a haunting tune that resonated in his heart.

At last, they found her chamber.  The walls were draped with dusty tapestries, and long canopy curtains fluttered in the dreary breeze, obscuring her sleeping figure from Jean’s prying eyes.  Alex moved forward, pushing the curtains aside.  He sat cautiously next to the sleeping woman with red lips, raven hair and slender fingers folded over her flowing red robes.  Princess Rebecca looked serene but deathly pale.  Havoc fought the compulsion to go to her as his friend and king laid a tender kiss on his beloved’s lips.

She remained as still and silent as the grave.

“I don’t understand,” Alex exclaimed.  “I am the firstborn son of the 12th king of the Southern Kingdom.  I am the only one who can break the spell.”

“It’s alchemy,” Sir Jean responded.  “Things go wrong in the best transmutations.  Princess Rebecca might be stuck in eternal slumber.”

The king left the princess’s bedside, not bothering to draw the curtain as he turned to leave.  “Some of my best knights were harmed during this foolish endeavor,” he growled, “and for what purpose?”

Jean couldn’t help himself.  He ducked under the gossamer curtain and kneeled next to the bed with a reverent posture.  Havoc brought the beauty’s hands to rest in his own, so cold and small.  He noticed the fabled splinter still lodged under her fingernail and plucked it out, regretting that she should be left so beautiful and unblemished against the current of time.

A breath. A twitch.  The delicate flutter of her eyelashes. 

“My king!  She wakes!”  Havoc exclaimed, standing up and pushing himself back from his intimate pose.  He embellished for good measure as Alex entered the room.  “You have awakened her.  See?”

Chestnut eyes, a heartbreaking shade of gold veiled in melancholy cream, fluttered open and stared into Jean’s face.  Her lips moved uncertainly, drawing Jean back to her bedside.  He smiled, as brilliantly as the sun.

“Don’t try to speak so soon,” Sir Jean cautioned.  He wet her lips tenderly with water from his canteen.

“My king,” she said, looking up at Jean.

“It is I who am your king,” Alex interrupted.  He scooped her up in his arms as Havoc pocketed the splinter along with his broken heart.

…

Prophecies were a funny thing, Jean decided, as he gazed up at the official portrait of the Southern Kingdom 12th king, hung proudly in the royal family’s private suite.  King Philip had always been kind to Havoc, favoring him to a fault, and promoting the child to squire at a young age despite his discipline issues.  What’s more, Havoc recalled that King Phillip had never once corrected foreign dignitaries when they mistook Jean and Alex for brothers.  Perhaps, Jean should have put the pieces together sooner.

Why say “the firstborn son of the 12th king” when one could simply say the 13th king?  Havoc knew the answer (for all the good it did).

Princess Rebecca Talia of Catalina was now Queen Rebecca, bound by the ties of holy matrimony to Jean’s childhood friend and king.  Alex was a good man and a just ruler.  It pained Havoc to harbor lustful thoughts for his friend’s bride.  Yet, however wrong it felt, the feel of Havoc’s mouth against the hollow of Rebecca’s throat eased his ailing conscience time and time again.

In any other life, their stars would have aligned.

“Must you always leave me so soon?” Rebecca cooed.  She drew the covers playfully over her swollen belly as she watched her lover dress, preparing to leave using the secret passageway behind the bureau.  Havoc tried not to stare, but it was hard to remember that, in the light of day, they could be no more than a queen and her knight.

“Damn,” he exhaled, half-tempted to throw it all away right then and there.  He pressed his nose into the soft lavender scent of Rebecca’s hair and caressed her waist possessively, in awe of the new life dwelling within her.  Like all their other stolen moments, Jean tucked the memory of holding her so close away for safe keeping.  Bedding a queen was hardly a luxury that a knight could regularly afford.

…

Princess Chloe was christened on a blustery Autumn morning just as the leaves began to fall from their trees.  Naturally, King Alexander and Queen Rebecca were wary, refusing all gifts from the alchemists in attendance, including the famed Brothers Elric, for fear of history repeating itself.  The ceremony was brief but beautiful, drawing attendees from across the four kingdoms.  Banners in the great hall proudly displayed the Southern Kingdom’s union with the rediscovered Catalina territory, and as far as anyone besides the queen and her favorite knight knew, there was no better symbol of that unity that the princess.

Sir Jean stood sentry beside the Queen, watching over Rebecca as their newborn infant suckled at her mother’s breast.  It wasn’t much, Havoc knew, but it would have to be enough.  For as long as his body drew breath, he would never leave Rebecca, bound by ties of duty and fate. He stood silently by his beloved’s side as she ruled with King Alexander. 

The Southern Kingdom prospered, as the sage Hohenheim had foretold.

Like what you read?  Send me a FANFICTION TROPE MASH UP ask.

[paybackraid]

Camera Worthy

Hey all~~ Just wanted to share a quick little snippet from maeshughesofficial’s Reverse Dad AU, because what else can you expect of me. And for once, it’s only mostly parental, I even threw in some Royai! 

Based loosely off of this piece of artwork that the entire world needs to see!

This whole thing gets a lot worse when you realize that for everything Riza feels, Roy only has a few months left to live :)

Words: 1368

Riza liked visiting her husband at work.

His staff was very friendly, and all acted as if she was part of the team. It helped that she was Black Hayate’s handler, and would join them very occasionally when Roy’s dog Snowball wouldn’t be enough, so on occasion she really was part of the team. They certainly treated her as such.

Not only that, it was nice to come in and sometimes find him hard at work. He had a very particular face when he concentrated, his eyebrows drawn together, and Riza always thought he was so very handsome. She could sit and watch him work for several minutes before he’d notice her…

And then, the way that his eyes lit up, like he was seeing her for the very first time all over again. He’d brush his work aside and stand, march over to her and scoop her up, spin her around, kiss her full on the mouth. “Riza!” He cried like they were young ones again, like they were just starting to date or newlyweds falling in love all over again.

She would never get over him. She didn’t know what she’d do without him. He was the love of her life and nearly everything that she wanted out of her future.

And especially, now that their boys worked on base. She’d storm in, he’d kiss her and, faces still only inches apart, she’d say “let’s fetch the boys and go out to eat”. Neither of them could cook, after all, and it was hardly fair for Gracia to cook for them every night.

And Roy, bless his heart Roy, would look so excited and he’d kiss her again and say so softly, “that’s the best idea I’ve heard all day.” And she could see it, see the love and adoration, for her and for their boys, radiating in his eyes, echoing endlessly like a song caught in a cavern. His heart was so big, he loved so strong and felt so much, and Riza knew, she knew, that nothing and no one could take his beautiful soul from this world, lest the world become a far darker and scarier place.

“Hello, Riza!” Havoc chirped when she came into the office. The place was remarkably much quieter than it normally was. She did a quick headcount, but everyone appeared to be there—Havoc of course, Breda, Falman, Fuery, and even Roy’s young and impressionable new secretary the boys had found, Sheska. Why did it seem so quiet?

“Is Roy in?” It was that, or he was pestering Maes. He had gotten his film developed, after all, and had twenty-four new photos of herself and their boys to show off. Poor, poor Maes, he never stood a chance.

Sheska nodded, a secretive little smile on her face. When Riza strode forward to barge into her husband’s office, Sheska waved frantically, tried and failed to fight off a delighted smile, and pressed a finger to her lips. “Shhhh!” she said softly, halfway to giggling.

Riza almost—almost—feared what on earth she was talking about. Why should she be quiet? Roy didn’t particularly care whether anyone was loud or not (he got distracted either way), and he couldn't possibly be doing something to betray her; it wasn’t at all like him, and she sure hoped Sheska wouldn’t be giggling if he was.

Off to the left, Breda shook his head and said, “go on in, Riza. He just might not notice. He’s got visitors.”

Visitors? She frowned a little, shook her head, but went to the door and opened it all the same.

Roy actually wasn’t at his desk, not at all. Papers indicated he’d been there, possibly recently, and whomever had entered (virtually anyone) had been important enough to make him stop working.

It took several extra seconds to figure out why.

Like many officers, Roy had his own private office attached to the main office of his team. Inside, there was a small resting place; a pair of couches and a coffee table between them, so that he could converse with whomever he pleased for however long he liked. She knew Roy often took advantage of one of the couches by having a sneakily placed nap.

And there he was, his dark head leaning back a little against the backrest. Normally he’d at least lay down, or he’d throw out his neck. He was going to be whining in the morning. She had to go move him, or at least wake him so he could move himself.

Honestly, that man.

She crept around, still sort of wary of Sheska’s warning to be quiet. She stepped around the arm of the couch, lowered her eyes to her beloved…

And oh, her heart melted.

There was a reason, a particularly good one, that Roy had fallen asleep sitting up as she’d seen. The reason, two of them actually, curled up at his side, cheeks pressed into his chest and wrapped up in his embrace.

Apparently, Edward and Alphonse had made their way to their dad’s office and had, for one reason or another, connived him to the couch so they could nap together.  Alphonse was pressed close, held tight in Roy’s one arm as Al’s fingers knotted in Roy’s light blue undershirt. Edward was sprawled over Roy’s shoulder and other arm, his own arms halfway thrown up over him as if he’d collapsed there. Roy’s other arm was around his waist, holding him still so he couldn’t adjust to a worse position, or fall off the couch entirely.

All in all, the three of them looked happy, healthy, and comfortable where they were. Roy even appeared to be drooling a little—a sure sign that he was getting some good rest.

She smiled a little, casting her eyes around for one of the few things that Roy kept on him at all times…

And yes, there it was, his treasured camera seated right there on the corner of his desk. Roy was always the one taking pictures of family and friends and events and was rarely if ever the subject of a photograph. He was part of this family too—he could stand to have his picture taken on the occasion, too.

She grabbed the camera and lined up the shot, getting their faces all in. It perhaps wasn’t the most flattering picture of her beloved that she had ever seen, or of her boys for that matter… but it was perfect all the same. She’d have to get a copy of this one and try to shrink it down—it was time to replace the photo in her wallet with a more updated version of her family, after all.

She set the camera aside and just watched her beloved family a moment longer. She touched Roy’s face, laughing when he snorted weakly and held the boys all the closer—ever a papa. Then she bent over a little and pressed fleeting kisses on their faces, quietly wishing them good rest.

“Good night, my boys,” she said softly, smiling still even as she stepped away to let them sleep. She stepped back and out of the office, silently closing the door behind her to give them their privacy.

She leaned back on the door like a lovestruck teenager, fearing her heart may burst with the adoration and love she felt growing and rising every day that went by with her three amazing men. And this—after just over a year with these beautiful boys apart of their family. She didn’t know how she’d survive the rest of her life if her love kept growing at the rate it was.

All that she knew, all that mattered, was that nothing, no force on this earth, could tear this family apart now. She would see to it herself if she had to. She had been lucky enough to find the love of her life after losing touch with him for so long, and then had been lucky enough to meet the two boys, her two babies, who would complete them.

She had been so so lucky, and she was never going to let them go.