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writer-akihiko · 3 years

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Can I request Leona winning Fem!Mc heart out of all of the dorm leaders? like they all propose to her and she chooses him?

A Lion Just For Me - Leona X Reader

This ask made me so giddy, I hope you appreciate this piece!

The day after your birthday, was undeniably the most chaotic day in NRC that they'd ever seen.

It was an all out war.

~○~

Leona as usual, was in bed despite the late afternoon. However, this time, he didn't want to be the lazy lion he usually was. Yesterday… on your birthday… He messed up. He planned the entire proposal during that time, and yet… he didn't. He didn't ask you.

"So… You didn't ask her?" Ruggie repeated, folding the scattered cloths on the floor. Leona groaned again, shuffling in the sheets.

"No… because I was too nervous…"

"Mhm… and you've been repeating that for the past 2 hours…" Ruggie sighed. The ring Leona prepared for you was left on the bedside, as well as a small paper with Leona's proposal script underneath it. He didn't know how he chickened out so fast. The date night was going so well… but perhaps it wasn't.

Maybe you didn't want a thrown-away spoilt prince like him. Maybe you didn't even deserve someone like him. Maybe… Maybe you wouldn't even want to marry him. Maybe… Maybe it was useless…

"Oh? How strange… Quite odd to see a sad Kingscholar…"

Leona for once sat up straight. He sneered at the two figures that were at his door. "Vil… and Rook… What the hell do you want?"

Vil, who was observing his nails meticulously, curtly replied. "YN LN huh? I wanted to confirm for myself if you were still pursuing her. I have to make sure after all because she's my bride too!"

"HAH?!"

Ruggie sighed. "They assumed your date didn't work out so I bet all the hot shots of the school are gonna propose to her."

"Not 'going to'. If I'm not mistaken… Al-Asim and Ashengrotto are on their way…"

~○~

You, as usual, decided to eat outside with Grim. He was having a feast as usual, and you were spoiling him with treats. You weren't your usual enthusiastic self though. There was a particular lion of yours that you missed… You hadn't seen him all day, so you wondered if he was alright.

"YN? Is that you?"

A sudden call broke your thoughts. Grim, who was still munching on his sandwich, was nowhere to be found… You looked up, meeting Trey and Cater's gazes. They both bowed deeply to you, and Trey extended his hand to you. "We're here to escort you to Riddle. He asked for you."

You followed, after quickly packing your things. You're sure that Grim would find you later… And you should go to Savanaclaw after this too for Leona. You went along with it, under the premise that it was an urgent situation.

To your surprise, it was a fairly elegant tea party, with Riddle at the head of the table. "YN! Cater, you should've announced her in!"

Cater said his half-hearted sorries, pulling a chair for you right next to Riddle. "What's the occasion?"

Riddle's face flushed, his hands fumbling through his pockets. "I… I tried to do things perfectly for you of course! Accept it cordially!" He said, a small box in his hand.

"YN, I love you, with all my heart," Riddle said, getting on one knee, extending his arm with a box revealing a red, heart shaped gem on a gold ring band. "Will you stand next to me, as the King to the Queen?"

"Riddle… I-"

The reply was quickly cut off by… Kalim and Jamil on brooms… How could this day get any weirder?! Kalim hopped off his broom, dashing to you as Jamil gently carried a silk pillow with a thin gold chain entangled with orange and green crystals intertwined with the chain.

"HOLD UP!" Kalim held his hands up, shoving Riddle aside from flying into an outrage. "I haven't had my input!"

Kalim was on his knees, the pillow handed over to him. He presented the bracelet to you, "YN, YN, my gorgeous desert lotus… I've waited for this moment. I searched for you throughout the school, but besides that… I want you to be my Zahra, YN. For now and forever."

"W-Wait…" You crossed your arms to prevent any jewelry slipping onto your hands or fingers. "Are you both proposing to me at the same time?"

"Yes," They said in unison.

"I ca-"

…Silver and Sebek just had to snatch you up. You didn't scream, it wasn't as if they were going to harm you. At least they got you out of that awkward situation… Now to deal with Malleus… You had the gist of what was going on, but your heart wasn't prepared.

"Silver! Don't drop Waka-sama's bride!"

Soon, you landed in another part of the school's field and Malleus was there, holding a wreath of what seemed to you as dark branches with speckles of green on the tips. The tips were pointed as the spokes, which made it look like a tiara…

"There you are, my human," He said, his tall figure looming over you. "This crown… If you wear it, you will be my queen of the Valley of Thorns and you will rule over all of Fae kind."

His hand circled your wrist, bringing his lips to kiss the front of your hand. "Please, consider my feelings… YN."

"Move back YN!"

On instinct, you did and before you knew it, the Diasomnia quartet were dumped with… water… Oh dear. Two pairs of arms snatched you away, leaving Malleus and the other three looking like pitiful drowned cats. Cat… Where is Leona?!

"Azul?!"

The Tweels presented you to Azul, who was waiting for you by the balcony. If you listened closely, you could hear Sebek yelling at the senior Octavinelle twins, most likely for drenching Waka-sama.

Azul was not the sharp, calm and collected Dorm Leader you saw on the first day of school. He was blushing, his cheeks pink and his hands shaking as he held a pearl necklace, with an octopus charm in the middle.

"YN, this is very ungentlemanly of me, but I had to get you away from that Fae," He defended himself, as you looked beyond the balcony to see if the Diasomnia Quartet were alright.

"Don't blame Azul," Jade bowed to you.

Floyd bowed as well, tipping his hat to you. "It was our idea~"

"A-Anyway!" He coughed, catching your attention. "This necklace… Angelfish, if you accept my love, please wear it. It's a symbol of our union, and in your terms… you and I would be married. If you truly love me then-"

THWIP!

An arrow got in the way between you and Azul. And… you were carried off by your waist by Rook. "Ah~ Fabulous shot from me, but unfortunately I must play with you another day Roi d'Effort!"

Vil and Epel in the garden, with a very annoyed Epel. Actually… you were very much annoyed too. You kept your composure though, they were your friends too. Vil wasn't wearing his uniform, instead wearing a pure white coat where the ends extended to the ground, mimicking a dress. Well… you'd be lying if you weren't stunned by his beauty.

Vil had a small purple velvet box in his hand, and the moment Rook released you from his arms, Epel took your hand and guided you to the centre of the garden. Vil was already waiting, and when you were by his side, he revealed a lavender coloured gem encircled by a silver band.

"YN, my little sweet potato," He took a deep breath. "I understand that we have differences, but you complete me. I want you to be by my side, to complete each other for I love you, LN YN."

You took Vil's hand, closing the box. "Vil, I know-"

"I have to interrupt this moment."

There was Ortho, pushing aside Rook and Epel. Epel at this point didn't care, but kept his tongue shut as Rook warned you and Vil him.

It was not as quick as Ortho, who had a grip on your waist, and soon, you were flying. The flight was short though, as Ortho landed to where you remembered having your lunch. You didn't know what he was looking for, but Ortho called out the bushes.

"Idia-nii… Please get out of the bushes."

After some time of rustling, Idia pops out of the bushes, his hand gripping to an expensive looking box. He tumbled on his steps, and you rushed to help him up. "Idia! Are you okay?"

He opened the box, with a dark blue gem sitting in the middle of the box. "Y-Yeah… but I… I might feel better if you accept my proposal, so… Marry me?"

Idia this time… was interrupted by the other Dorm Leaders rushing towards you. Riddle and Kalim were still butting heads, and so were Azul and Vil. Malleus was glaring at Azul, and Idia was glaring at the rest of them for interrupting his proposal. It blew up into an argument about who had the right to propose, and who was being selfish.

"HEY! GET AWAY FROM MY GIRLFRIEND!"

There was only one person you knew who could roar like that, and that was…

"LEONA!"

With tears at the corners of your eyes, you ran and jumped into the arms of your lion. He spun you around, laughing as he finally had you in his arms, where you belonged. He set you down, not hesitating to get on his knees.

"YN, my little herbivore YN… I'm sorry I was such a coward yesterday," He said, opening the box with a golden ring inside. "I meant to do this. I'm sorry for doubting myself, and I'm sorry doubting your love. I'd never run from you again, so will you marry-"

He never finished his sentence, as you tackled him to the ground. "Yes! Yes yes yes Leona I'll marry you!" You laughed. Leona, for a time in his life, cried tears of joy, swinging you around as he boasted about his success to everyone.

When your feet met the ground, you turned to the Dorm Leaders. You bowed to them, "Everyone… I appreciate your feelings, but Leona's the one for me," You said. "I… I'm sorry I never noticed any of your feelings, but please support my love as I would yours."

They all nodded, some with a few tears, and some with smiles on their faces.

"YN…" Leona pulled you in, slipping the ring on your finger. "Gosh I love you…"

#twisted wonderland #twst fanfic #twst leona #leona kingscholar #leona x reader #leona kingscholar x reader #twisted wonderland leona #twst dorm leaders #twst leona kingscholar #twst x reader

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fluffykitty1999-blog · 3 years

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Dog of the Military- Chapter 26

Chapter 26- New Room

Hello! This is just another reminder- if you’re into my fanfictions and they bring you enjoyment, I’d super appreciate it if you could go over and leave an encouraging comment at my ko-fi here https://ko-fi.com/fluffykitty12, or even slip me $3 for snacks.

Thanks so much! :)

The hospital was full. Or at least, that was the excuse they gave them when they were unceremoniously dumped into a second bed that'd been placed in Mr. Water's room.

The quarters were a bit tight- Roy had to relocated his plastic chair to the foot of ed's bed rather than beside it, but after settling Ed into the new bedding, the remainder of the night passed quietly.

It was around seven that morning when a knock on the door frame caught his attention.

Roy couldn't help it- he broke into an exhausted smile at the sight of Hughes.

"Finally. None of my team had spoken to me since yesterday, I was beginning to worry."

"Yeah, well, there's a reason for that. They managed to apprehend the fake judge fleeing the scene, but Banks managed to get away. They've been doing paperwork and issuing orders for the capture of Banks since then. The higher ups are eager to put a lid on this while fiasco- they're embarrassed it's even happened. How's Ed doing?"

"Seems to be alright. Except a Drachman operative broke into his hospital room last night and tried to abduct him."

Hughes jolted, looking shocked. "You're kidding!"

Roy shook his head. "I'm not."

"Mr. Mustang!" their conversation was interrupted by nurse Aubrey jogging over, holding a clipboard and looking out of breath. "I have those blood test results you wanted."

Roy cocked an eyebrow. "And what do they say?"

"Well, Ed's blood type is A+, and several of the other blood smears were found to be B-. So Edward wasn't alone in his room last night. Someone else was there. I'm sorry I didn't believe you."

Roy shrugged.

Hughes decided to make himself known, peering at the paper on her clipboard and adjusting his glasses. "Say, can I get a copy of that, please? I'm Colonel Maes Hughes of investigations- I have no doubt the military is going to want me investigating just who would try and attack a hospitalized state alchemist. I also want the room Ed was attacked in sealed off- I'll process the crime scene later."

"Of course." Aubrey hurried off to do as she was told, and Roy and Hughes sat in silence for a moment.

"So." Hughes finally spoke up, face impassive. "It appears Edward might've been onto something with his whole 'Banks is a Drachman spy' theory."

"It certainly looks that way." Roy agreed. "Either that- or Banks wasn't involved, but now that he's backed into a corner, any Drachman operatives are capitalizing on the chance to scoop him up. But why bother trying to take Ed too?"

"Ed's knowledge of Alchemy is a good enough reason as any. He knows more than most alchemists in the country- he could easily train Alchemists for the Drachman army. They've wanted to learn alchemy for decades now. And Ed's young- he's got a lot of potential, he's still forming his opinions and growing up. They'd want to capitalize on that- mold him into a ruthless killer."

Isn't that what you want to do as well? that small voice in the back of his head hissed. The same one that tortured him about Ishval at night. But Roy brushed it aside- it was lying, he cared for Ed like his own son. He was only trying to do what was best for Ed. And for your reputation, you heartless bastard.

"I know you need to be here. I get it. But your office is sorely missing you in your absence. Hawkeye is doing her best- I have Brosch, Ross and Armstrong watching the hospital starting today. No one else will come near him."

"Right." Roy ran a hand through his hair, looking at Hughes. "Can you stay with him? For a little while? I need someone I can trust with him- someone who I know can protect him." Roy thought fo all the knives Hughes kept hidden on his person. He pitied any Drachman who tried to abduct Ed from his best friend.

"Yeah, I can stay." Hughes frowned. "Where are you gonna go, though? The office?"

"Probably. Was going to stop home and at least chance my clothes first. Have a quick shave, probably."

His uniform was wrinkled from sleeping in it and smeared with Ed's dried blood. His five o' clock shadow was also getting out of control.

Hughes nodded, smiling slightly. "Yeah. I haven't seen you this bad since our last bender. I can stay half the day with him."

"That's all I need. Thank you."

"No problem. Take care of what you need to at the office." Hughes took his place sitting in Roy's plastic chair at the foot of Ed's bed. Ed was still sleeping- Roy had wet a cloth and cleaned the blood from the boy's face hours ago, and he looked peaceful, despite his circumstances.

"Alphonse is with Gracia and Elicia for the time being- he's probably going to want to see Ed later today."

"I'll bring him back with me on my way back from the office." Roy promised absently.

"Alright, thank you." Hughes smiled, and Roy returned the look.

He almost felt bad that he was lying to the man's face. Almost.

LINEBREAK LINEBREAK LINEBREAK

"You look like hell." Madame Christmas didn't parse words, sliding him a glass of cold bourbon across the bar as a way of greeting. IT wasn't even 9am yet, but Roy took the drink happily.

"You made the papers again." his aunt put down a copy of the newest Gazette in front of him- FULLMETAL ALCHEMIST SHOT IN COURT MARTIAL DEBACLE. The front page featured him clinging to Ed, trying to stop the boy's bleeding. It wasn't exactly a flattering shot, and Roy wondered briefly how the press had managed to get that picture.

"Are you alright?" He looked up to meet his Aunt's dark brown eyes at the question- she was being sincere, and he nodded.

"I'm okay."

"And that boy of yours? The prodigy they shot?"

"He's gonna be okay too. Bullet hit him in the arm."

"And yet you're here instead of watching him. Which means you need something." his Aunt tapped her long fingernails on the bar, looking pensive.

"How much have you read about the courtmartial?"

"All of it. But it isn't much. The Furher withholds most of the details- all I know is that man was facing charges of misconduct that the Fullmetal Alchemist boy uncovered."

Roy fought the urge to wince. Yes, of course the military would've white washed everything and censored it. The general population didn't need to know the gruesome scope of Bank's misdeeds.

"That Colonel Banks is still on the lamb. He hasn't been here, if that's what you're searching for." Madame Christmas said, reaching down to start polishing some glasses.

"That's not what I'm here for."

"Then what? We both know you aren't here to visit Vanessa."

"Some fellows who ought not have visited Amestris have come here. Foreign- Drachman, I think. Tried to kidnap Ed last night- and I have a feeling that they're trying to get into contact with Banks and smuggle him from the country. An outfit like that wouldn't just send one man- they'd send several. A team, maybe. Men like that go looking for girls. Have you seen any?"

Madame Christmas had stopped polishing her glass abruptly and set it down, nodding once. "Yeah. Five who'd fit your description, recently. I don't ask too many questions. What would you like to do with them? They're quite rough customers- hardly pay for their drinks, rough with my girls. So what do you have in mind?"

"I want to speak to one. Doesn't matter which, any of them will do. As soon as you can."

"You'll be delivering the usual message to someone who's unkind to my girls?"

"And then some. For trying to take my Alchemist." Roy swirled his glass, taking another sip. He was almost done.

"How soon can you deliver by?"

His aunt scoffed. "Tonight. One of those dogs is always by, at least one, every night."

"I'll speak to you soon, then." He finished his drink, placing his money on the bar and standing.

"Thanks, Auntie."

"Not a problem, my boy."

LINEBREAK LINEBREAK LINEBREAK

Roy managed to stop at the office for two hours- Alphonse had decided to walk there from the Hughes' residence- so it turned out he hadn't completely lied to Hughes when he said he was going to the office.

Either way, he was back at the hospital at one with Alphonse and a fresh cup of coffee in tow.

"What do you mean I can't leave yet!? They just gave me this whole bag of blood I have more than enough now! I want to go!" Roy heard Ed before he saw him, and he gave a tired grin, sipping his coffee as he and Al strode into the room.

"The doctors want you here another day and that's what's going to happen." Hughes said, ever-patient.

Mr. Waters was sitting in his bed reading a book on barrel-making, seemingly hardly disturbed by the commotion.

When Alphonse walked into the room, however, he looked up, eyes brightening. "What craftsmanship! I'm a welder- let me have a look at you!"

If Alphonse could've blushed, he would've. but he walked over to the bed anyways, letting the construction worker rave about how well his joints fit together and the well-placed rivets of his design.

Ed cast a glance at his roommate, watching him talk to his brother, before he noticed Roy and perked up.

"Can we go home yet?"

"What's this I heard about the doctors wanting you to stay another day?" Roy cast a glance at Hughes, who crossed his arms over his chest and nodded. "Ed did well during his blood transfusion, but he's still dizzy and tired. They want to watch him for one more day."

"Then that's final. You're staying for another day." Roy took a sip of his coffee, symbiotically absorbing the caffeine through his tongue to fortify himself for the coming outburst.

"This is stupid! I should be out there catching the bastard who shot me, not sitting around in this stupid hospital!"

"You're pale as the sheets. I hardly think another day in the hospital could hurt." Roy remarked.

"Who're you calling so anemic he doesn't even have the iron to be called a fortified cereal?!" Ed kicked his feet beneath the sheets and ranted.

Well, that's a new one. Roy thought to himself.

"You said I could sleep on the couch again! Last night!" Ed had turned back to whining, and Roy was slightly surprised he even remembered the exchange they'd had in the emergency room.

"Yes. And you can. Once the doctors say you're well enough to come home, and not a minute sooner. Speaking of fun things people said- you said a lot of things, Ed. You threatened to bite an EMT, accused him of trying to steal you leg, and said something about riding in the wee-woo wagon."

"Wee-woo wagon?" Alphonse asked, tinny vice echoing the question.

"He was too drugged up to think of the word ambulance." Roy supplied.

Alphonse and Mr. Waters burst out laughing, Hughes was grinning, and Ed flushed bright red in embarrassment, a red hashtag throbbing on his temple.

"Don't sweat it, Ed. Investigations and everyone is working hard to catch Banks and everyone else involved in this. You just need to rest up." Hughes said, standing up from his place on the chair and stretching.

"And I'm sure Colonel Mustang here agrees."

Roy nodded, taking his seat back and pulling out a large stack of papers from his briefcase. "I do. In fact, Hawkeye wanted me to stay here and do my paperwork to make sure you don't decide to sneak out of the hospital."

Ed's pout made his facial structure sag so much he looked like a pug, and he crossed his arms over his chest.

"So unfair. Why do I have to get punished when I'm the one who's been shot..."

"Cheer up laddy." Mr. Waters piped up. "'Least you ain't had a brick dropped on yer head."

#fma #fma fanfiction #Fullmetal Alchemist #fullmetal alchimist brotherhood #Roy Mustang #edward elric #Parental Roy #parentalroy #whumph #whump #hurt/comfort #hurt #comfort #dogofthemilitary #injury

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gleekto · 4 years

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Summary: College AU/Famous!Blaine and Fanboy!Kurt - Kurt POV

Kurt really doesn’t have time to figure out the dating world between being a freshman at prestigious theatre school, LAADA, and his active but secret blogging life in the Sing!Fandom. So what if Sing! ended last year? There are still fics to read and actors to follow. Especially the uber talented heartthrob lead, Blaine Anderson. He can act. He can sing. He can even dance. He’s gay. He’s out. And he’s only 24. Kurt is willing to twiddle his thumbs and click refresh until Blaine Anderson’s next project.

He just didn’t expect the next project to be on his roommate Rachel’s new TV show.

Part 1, Part 2, Part 3

Even Better Than the Real Thing (4/15)

It takes Kurt until the following afternoon for the haze to lift and for his feet to land back down on the ground after spending the evening floating. He finally logs on to his tumblr and to the entirely unsurprising 13 messages, all anonymous, all asking him if he heard about whether his source met Blaine. He deletes all of them and clicks on his direct message from Mercedes last night.

From LimaBlaineFan to MercedesSing! : Guilty as charged. You found me out.

MercedesSing!: So let me get this straight - Your roommate and close friend is literally working with Blaine Anderson?!

LimaBlaineFan: He’s her love interest. They kiss.

MercedesSing!: Please don’t tell me you’re jealous because you know that’s all acting and you have suddenly gone from number one fanboy to real life acquaintance overnight and there are a good few hundred followers who would be intensely jealous of you if they knew.

LimaBlaineFan: They don’t. And they won’t. But no, I’m not jealous. Blaine is indeed gay, and you know, he doesn’t have a boyfriend right now. Was too difficult to meet someone while on a show like Sing!

MercedesSing!: He did not tell you that.

LimaBlaineFan: He did. And we commiserated about growing up in Ohio - two gay kids. We’re like peas and pod, Blaine Anderson and I.

MercedesSing!: Shut up. You had a heart to heart with Blaine Anderson.

LImaBlaineFan: Now let’s not get ahead of ourselves. But I can confirm that he is even more beautiful in real life.

MercedesSing!: This is nuts. I’m happy for you. Hell, I’m happy for me. Do you think he can hook me up with Jo Johnson for some music lessons? Kidding. No not really. Anyways. You met Blaine Anderson. And shit got real.

Kurt and Mercedes plot out just the right amount of info to post publicly on his blog from his “source”.

My source confirms that Blaine Anderson is a genuinely nice guy, but you’ve all heard that before. He did find out that Blaine sang in his high school Glee club, and oh, he’s single right now. Don’t get any ideas though, fandom, because Blaine knows there’s a difference between a fan and a friend. Anyways, sounds like Blaine Anderson was as cute as ever - oh and he was wearing cherry red shoes.

...

“Let’s go, Kurt. Off your laptop, put away your homework, we’re going to the cast open mic night.”

Kurt looks up over his computer skeptically. “Open mic night?”

“Oh come on. You don’t even have to perform if you don’t want to. And Blaine asked if you were coming-”

“He did? We talked for like five minutes. How does he even remember my name?” What.

“Yeah. I know it’s weird but I think you’re a good excuse not to have to be networking the whole night. For me too,” Rachel emphasizes. “Come on.”

Kurt nods his head from side to side, feigning indecision but of course he’s going. Blaine Anderson asked for him to come. Or asked if he was coming. Or whatever. He’s obviously going.

...

As he and Rachel are whisked into the Limelight - closed for a private event - by the security guard at the door, he’s sure he has accidentally fallen through a portal into the world of Sing!, with Blaine’s character, Roy Royson, up on stage as usual, serenading his on screen love interest with an unplugged version of an 80′s rock ballad. Today it’s Jack and Diane.

Only Roy Royson would be wearing a plaid flannel shirt and not a fitted red cardigan with tight dark blue jeans and a navy bowtie. And man, Blaine Anderson can rock a bowtie.

“He’s good, right?” Rachel gestures to Blaine on the stage, who sees them and gives a wink and smile. What a showman. “Talented.”

“He was on Sing!, Rachel. Not a shock that he can carry a tune,” Kurt shrugs. No way is he letting Rachel know how captivated he is. He’s seen Blaine as Roy perform on screen countless times and then on repeat, but something about seeing the real Blaine, all styled and a touch deliberately flamboyant but also very boyish singing classic 80′s rock, completely holding the live audience in his hands. He’s hard to look away from. By the time Kurt catches himself staring slightly open mouthed and manages to turn around to get a drink, Rachel already has a drink in hand and is sitting at a table with Jesse St. James and a few of the others he met the other week.

Kurt orders a ginger ale with one lime (can’t be caught drinking underage with the high profile cast), and turns towards Rachel’s table where Blaine is now conveniently sitting. Kurt would not have normally dared to sit beside him for fear of spilling his drink from shaky hands, or worse being tongue tied when being asked a mundane question, but it appears that the chair beside Blaine is the only empty one and Kurt is not sure if it’s a punishment or a reward. So it’s facing his fears or cozying up to the showrunner at a separate table. Awkward.

“Great performance,” Kurt starts as he sits down beside Blaine. “I can appreciate a strong stage presence despite the strange choice of music genre.”

Blaine looks up and his smile widens amusedly as he shifts his chair over to make more room. “Thank you,” Blaine nods and then leans in to Kurt’s ear. “Well, despite the choice of genre, I may have caught you staring.” Blaine winks. Did he just-

Kurt is mortified but Blaine just elbows him in the side and takes a sip of his beer. He was caught. But Blaine doesn’t appear to be mad, or embarrassed, or irritated - In fact, he seems happily entertained . Cocky bastard. “Well, my dad is a big Mellencamp fan, and I can’t say I’ve ever had the pleasure of watching a classic performance where the lead is in anything other than stone washed jeans and flannel.”

“I’ll take that as a compliment.”

“Oh it’s a compliment.” Kurt turns to him. “I did try to do Mellencamp once in a Glee club assignment in my junior year - complete with the flannel. But somehow I couldn’t pull it off. My dad even called me out.”

Blaine laughs, eyes sparkling and staring right at him. Man, that eye contact. “Too forced?”

“Too straight,” Kurt answers and Blaine laughs again like Kurt is both funny and entertaining. “I think I got a lecture about not trying to be someone I’m not just to impress him. That he loves me just as I am blah blah blah.”

Blaine’s face turns serious. “That’s lucky.”

Kurt stares back. “I know.”

“So you were out?”

“Yeah. And maybe thanks to my dad and my Glee club, I survived Lima. But it wasn’t fun. Guess Lima’s just too narrow for all this fabulousness,” Kurt jokes, gesturing at today’s outfit - lime green tight army jeans with a purple button down and scarf. And of course a heart shaped broach.

“Lima’s loss,” Blaine says seriously, reaching out to touch Kurt’s arm. Kurt jumps and then Blaine’s hand is gone again. “Well, you’re in LA, now. The fun is only just beginning.” Kurt’s jaw drops slightly and he can feel himself staring at Blaine, again, and trying to stop being drawn to that impossible magnetism.

“Let’s go, Kurt! It’s our turn.” Luckily Rachel pulling at his arm against the magnetic force rescues him.

“What?”

“I signed us up, of course. Defying Gravity. Let’s go.” Kurt normally loves performing. Loves performing Broadway hits. Loves performing with Rachel. But performing in front of his celebrity crush - that was not on his agenda. “Come on!” She pulls him up on stage. Ah well. Good thing he’s a good actor. Game face is about to be in full force.

When they take their bows, the room full of appropriately enthusiastic applause, Kurt lets out a breath he didn’t know he was holding. “That was great, Kurt!” Blaine seems genuinely excited. “You’re a countertenor - You have an amazing voice!” Kurt beams. He has an amazing voice.

Before he can second guess himself, Kurt turns to Blaine and whispers, “Thank you. And I assume your love of Broadway is why I caught you staring.”

Blaine laughs and chinks their glasses. “Guilty.”

...

When he gets home that night, high from all the performances, from the performing, from talking to Blaine Anderson again, he closes his door and screams silently into his pillow. He grabs his phone and texts Mercedes who is of course asleep in New York City.

Kurt: Mercedes, I’m back. We talked. Again. A lot. He kind of stared at me through my whole performance with Rachel. Which he admitted. And laughed. He even likes my voice. I think we’re friends. Like actually friends.

In the morning, Kurt wakes up to Mercedes’ reply.

Mercedes: Of course he likes your voice. You’re epic. And friends? Is that what the kids are calling it these days?

#even better than the real thing #gleekto writes #took a few days but here is the next part!

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wheremytwinwatches · 4 years

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[Where My Twin Watches]: Full Metal Alchemist Brotherhood Episode 24

Last time: Lan Fan gave Bradley a hand, May finally showed up again but at the worst time possible, and Gluttony did some home redecorating. Onwards!

Looks like Envy’s having a snack. Or dropping food off? Oh! Doctor Marcoh, you’re alive! Ergh, but he’s a sacrifice candidate, being kept prisoner by the Goths in case their Protagonist prospects don’t work out. Aha! Called it! Way back when Hughes was investigating, he was hunched over a map with circles, I said that the Goths were going to make a giant TC like Mr. Freeze did in the first episode. Only this won’t be limited to just one city, but the entire country. Wait, what? “So close, not quite. But you’re on the right track.” If that’s not their plan, then what is? Envy you jerk, threatening Marcoh’s village if he doesn’t cooperate with them. Although it’s kinda a lose-lose scenario for the Doc: Refuse to aid the Goths and his village is destroyed, help the Goths and the entire country including the village gets the ax. Envy taunts Marcoh for not doing the “logical” thing, saying humans put emotions before common sense, like- [Envy]: “I killed a man who was like that once. All I had to do was make myself look like his wife, and he was helpless. He couldn’t even fight me.” Yeah you can just shut up right now. Episode 24 - “Inside the Belly” In Central Bradley’s taking a nighttime stroll when wait what’s this? [Pride]: “The humans seem to be giving you quite a bit of trouble lately, don’t they… Wrath. Hm?” Hello, we’ve got a new Goth? The last of the Seven Deadly Sins, in fact! Sounds like a kid. Pride seems curious that Wrath is in a good mood, the Fuhrer is actually sounding kinda wistful, saying that as powerful as he is and how things have gone according to Father’s plan the Protagonists still have them “scrambling in circles.” I’m getting some Worthy Opponent vibes from Bradley here, he actually talks about moving over for the younger generation. Huh! But Pride chides him for his foolishness, that Father could see such comments as treason. Setting aside this new Goth for now, we’re back at the country house where Riza’s looking in shock at Gluttony’s new doorway. Yikes ok, Gluttony’s gotten a bit of a power transformation, you may wanna step back and let the Alchemists deal with this one Lieutenant. Ling grabs Lan Fan while Mustang musters the others to attack; despite the effort it took to catch Gluttony he’s free now and knows their identities, they can’t let him escape. Mustang casts Fire!... and Gluttony just swallows it and burps. Uh oh.

[Ed]: “Hey, that worked well!” [Roy]: “Think you can do better? Be my guest!” Into the forest, split up! Gluttony’s still after Mustang, but Riza’s caught up and is distracting it with headshots. Oof, but Roy’s injuries from Lust are acting up, good guys don’t get healing like the Goths do. Goths r OP, plz nerf. Doc (the military one, not Marcoh) is going to drive the Xinglings out of there, but there’s a red-eyed dog watching? A Goth chimera? Uh, Roy? Roy, Gluttony is right behind you, you may wanna move Roy you need to move now Oh! Phew, Roy sacrificed his coat for a decoy, the gang’s all at the car now. The Elrics toss “the invalid” in, saying that he’d just get in the way with his current injuries. Besides, there’s that whole “Our Supreme Leader is a Goth” thing, Roy might want to get on that. The Elrics and Ling are staying behind to get what they can out of Gluttony. Riza holds out one of her pistols for Ed, Al says oh for- seriously?! Not getting into the Gun Debate here, but regardless of killing people/protecting your lives we’ve seen what guns can do to Goths (jack all), better to just use Alchemy… ah. Ok, I get it now. [Flashback!Ed to Winry]: “It’s your hands… They weren’t meant to kill.” This is more than just taking a weapon, it’s taking the responsibility. Second Rule of Firearms, after all; “Never point a gun at anything you are not willing to destroy.” As powerful an Alchemist as Edward is, he’s never done anything more than injure enemies and scare them off, I don’t think he’s even ended another life. But that may not be an option with Gluttony. Edward Elric takes the gun. Ling tells Riza to look after Lan Fan, and the three run into the forest. Back to Gluttony and his Eraser Gun, no way our heroes are going to be able to face him head-on. So what’s the plan? Apparently step one is to cower behind some trees sweating nervously and having second thoughts. [Ling, master of the understatement]: “He seems to be a bit angry.” Rustling in the bushes? Ominous music?

Wait, what?!

Aw crap, it’s Envy. Ed is immediately on the offensive after yet another “pipsqueak” comment, Envy… doesn’t want to fight? Just here to get Gluttony back? Ah right, they’re still holding out on Roy or the Elrics being their Sacrifice, Envy’s gotta get Gluttony back under control before he harms potential resources. And with two Goths now, I’m thinking they might just have to let them go. At least Ling’s been able to identify Envy as another Goth with his Homunculus-Sense, he can- run away as fast as he can, since he doesn’t have the same Potential Sacrifice protection that the Elrics have. But hey, the Goths aren’t allowed to hurt the Elrics, which they take full advantage of to separate the two. Ling v Envy and Elrics v Gluttony, go! Aw, cute family time at the Fuhrer’s, he’s having dinner with his wife and (adopted) son. We keep cutting between them and the Goth fights, and dammit I keep waffling on Bradley. Despite what this kid thinks, he is not a good man, he has killed Leto-knows how many people for whatever this plan of Father’s is, including poor Martel. But out of all the Goths, he seems to be the most human. Back to the fight, crud Ling’s been caught by Envy’s transformation abilities no wait nevermind he just kicked Envy’s ass. Respect to the Xing Prince! Meanwhile on the Elric’s side all Gluttony can do is dodge and whine about how he can’t eat them. Until they get tossed into the wall uh oh Ling you may wanna run. Ok no you’ve still got time Envy’s on the ground finish them- Wow. Envy, you’re a jerk. Taking Lan Fan’s form to make him hesitate? Rude. And aw crap Gluttony’s here Ling’s not looking- WHAT NO WHAT THE FUCK Ok so Gluttony prepared his Eraser Gun for Ling but Ed jumped in to grab him which freaked Envy out so he reached out to grab Ed but then Gluttony attacked and the beam erased Al’s left hand but Ling and Ed are gone and all that’s left of Envy is a dissipating lower torso. Gluttony’s gone quiet, saying that he swallowed them and can’t let them out. What. Um. Are we looking at a Kamina situation here? Is this what’s happening? We’re back in town now, Lan Fan’s set up at the Doc’s house (and is having to deal with the whole arm-loss thing now), Roy and Riza are heading back to Command despite Doc going full McCoy on them. But Roy’s not about to sit back and do nothing after leaving children behind to fight. Seems the first step is for Roy to meet up with the local General (Raven), who has a reputation as a General who takes care of his troops. They get to chatting and take a walk, Roy tests the waters by saying there’s a street rumor that the Fuhrer is a Homunculus. Raven just laughs at Roy’s poor sense of humor, drags him along to tea with- uh oh. Aw, crap. Crap crap crap! Roy just got put in front of what I gather to be the top dogs of the military, and General Raven prodded him to tell them his “little joke” while looking pointedly at the poor Colonel. What the Leto dude, I actually liked you! Ok, so- [THIS FUCKER]: “What, Colonel Mustang? Cat got your tongue?” SHIT. “Let’s suppose for a moment that I was actually a Homunculus as you say. Well now… would that be so bad?” Yyyyyeah… this ain't good. [Roy, in a bad spot]: “Well, Fullmetal, it looks like we’ve landed ourselves in the pit of hell.” [Ed, in another bad spot]: “Where in the hell am I?!”

#wmtw #where my twin watches #full metal alchemist #full metal alchemist brotherhood #fmab #fmab 24 #ranubis

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actualflamealchemist · 4 years

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Who Do You Need When You Come Undone?

@chiisaikintsukuroi (X)

A choked noise left him, a weak attempt to laugh like it was a bad joke, “No I’m not…..I’m a fucking mess.” he mumbled, turning his head and pressing his face against Roy. To hide, to muffle himself and pretend he wasn’t crying, Ed didn’t know. He didn’t care anymore either, not about that, “I’m exhausted….. school has tests coming up and keeps mentioning nothing but college, I keep trying to pick up as many shifts as I can at work, and get things taken care of and make sure Al is okay but….” but it just was never enough.

“I can’t…..” every day he felt his body wearing out more and more, it was a miricle no one had called the cops on him yet for it. Teachers were worrying and he tried harder to hide things. Sometimes he slipped, and was quick to change it around others and brush off. But it was getting harder. The lies still came easy but people were starting to watch closer. The act had to be held up better and longer. Ed owed a lot to the Rockbells with Pinako standing in where she could but he didn’t want them to get into trouble. More than they already would be for helping hide it.

How much longer until someone figured it out and called someone?

Ed felt his chest heave again with a sob he choked himself on, “I can’t……..I can’t anymore but no one else is going to be there to pick up if I don’t…He….” he squeezed his eyes shut, “……..He won’t come home…….he’s never come home. Not since I was twelve……”

His stomach knotted saying it lout. Admitting it. Hell if it wasn’t for monthly checks showing up Ed would have thought the bastard had walked out on them for good. No phone calls, no letters checking in, impossible to get a hold of. There were times Ed had tried, when things had gotten really bad, when Al had gotten sick, when he needed to go stand in court and talk about one of the worst nights of his life….never an answer. Just a voice mail that Ed had filled up once with desperate calls and he never tried again.

The man came home once, for barely two weeks, and was gone back to work, or wherever he was. Just like that, like they didn’t really matter. Like he didn’t care. Ed was sure he didn’t now, he tried believing their mom when she told them otherwise, tried to believe like Al did that he’d be home if they just waited. He couldn’t do it anymore, he had to step up where the useless bastard couldn’t, and now he couldn’t even do that.

“I’m trying, I can’t do it anymore, but if I don’t no one else will……”

Roy wouldn’t let go of him, not for a moment, letting him sob it all out if need be. He’d seen how hard things were on Ed, questioned to himself why he put himself through so much. Of course he’d had his suspicions but he’d never felt it was his place to ask... even now he didn’t think it was... not until Ed started mentioning ‘he’ and ‘him’ and how he wasn’t around, how he hadn’t come home... hadn’t since he was twelve...

The pieces started to click. All of the time Ed spent working when most his age couldn’t be bothered... how he doted and worried over his brother... Why he always looked so tired.

Still not letting him go, Roy only allowed himself to pull back enough to look at Ed. “Wait... are you trying to tell me that you and Alphonse have been alone there for the last five years?” The shock was almost as prevalent in Roy’s voice as the concern. “Ed... why... why? Why haven’t you told anyone? Why do this to yourself?”

Roy’s heart broke even more. He remembered how it had been for his father and he was an adult. Even he hadn’t been able to handle it... how had Ed done it all of this time? There was no way that Roy could let him keep doing this to himself, but what could he do? He was only a college student himself, not much older than the blond now breaking in his arms. He hadn’t even been able to keep it together without years of therapy when his parents had... when... when... when his father had killed his mother and then himself. What good would he be to Ed? Roy didn’t even know where to begin to try and figure any of this out.

“Ed... I... I...” he stammered, tripping over his own tongue. He wanted to tell him that he didn’t have to do it alone, wanted to tell him that he’d help him... but he didn’t know if even he could, despite his best intentions and desire. He hated seeing Ed like this, hated knowing that so much was resting on those shoulders... and there wasn’t a damn thing he could think of to do about it except just hold him while his world seemed to be falling apart. “I... I want to help... I don’t know how but... please...”

#chiisaikintsukuroi #CollegeRoy #ModernAU #ScienceAndChemistry #AllThatIsQueued

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reallyautomaticvoid · 5 years

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Calling It: Good Intentions

Chapter 1: Calling It: The Beginning

Characters (in order of appearance): Tim Drake, Jason Todd, Dick Grayson, Damian Wayne, Conner Kent, Tam Fox, Bruce Wayne, Ra’s al Ghul

Summary:

Timothy Jackson Drake has been Red Robin for nearly three years now. Ever since he was summarily kicked out of the Batfam (no matter what anyone in the Batfamily said), he’s been taking care of himself. He has his own back and doesn’t need anybody else help, no matter what the Titans may say (and they have a lot to say on the matter). He doesn’t need a safety net when he flies.

Note:

This was inspired by @iphoenixrising beautiful piece, Fractured, which everyone should read because, frankly, it’s incredible. I would also like to thank them for all of the help they gave me when I was starting to write this piece. Seriously, they're a wonderful person who deserves all the lovely thing in their life.

Serene and Gotham do not go together. It was almost peaceful so long as you ignore the racket of car alarms and traffic. It was excellent for Gotham. Anytime there was peace (and Gotham was not on the verge of an alien invasion) was a blessing.

Something to celebrate.

A reason to be happy.

Drumming his thumbs on the concrete roof under him, Red Robin waits in the chill. There was always, always something to do in Gotham. Punching Two-Face in the face? Great. Foiling the latest Joker scheme? Fantastic. Catching Ivy before she releases the latest version of her plant toxin? All in a days work. Hell, usually there were muggers throughout Crime Alley that Red could punch.

Quiet nights, like tonight, grants a sense of false hope. Like Gotham could do this every day. That maybe Gotham could be like any other city.

It couldn’t be.

Red Robin knew that.

The worst part wasn't the boredom (which, don't get him wrong, was fucking awful. Shit, he'd almost welcome a Ra's attack, but that wasn't due until later this week), no it was the stealthy asshat sneaking his way over to Red because, clearly, Tim couldn't see him coming.

“Hood.” Red's thumbs accelerate their drumming.

“Damn, Red, and here I was tryin' ta be sneaky.” Red Hood sinks onto the roof next to Red Robin. Red could see Hood surveying him.

"Next time, leave the steel-toed boots at home then."

Jason snorts. "Ya need a hair cut."

Red ignores Jason. “You know it’s immensely stupid to sneak up on somebody in Gotham, right?”

“Whada ya going do? Shoot me? I'd love to see you try, Babybird.”

Red scoffs as his thumbs continue to play their beat, “oh yeah, I’m the one with a history of shooting people.”

“One time.”

“Three times.”

Red ignores Jason's flinch, too busy shoving his own unwelcome memories back into their black box. One of many. Hood slitting Red's (then Robin's) throat. The hot, dry Arabian desert. The cock of a pistol. Death. Gotham rooftops. Blood. Unknown basements. Pain.

Jason bumps Red, nudging Tim out of his thoughts, Hood forces a chuckle, “eh, the first time was barely a graze.”

For the first time, Tim's thumbs froze as his head swivels around to look at Hood. Tim gave Hood one of his best Red Robin glares which only appears to amuse Hood.

“How in the Hell do you figure?”

Red could tell that Hood was grinning at him under his hood, “yer still breathing.”

Tim shakes his head, suppressing a smile. It had been over a year since Red Hood had last tried to kill him. Well, really tried to kill him. Without the Pit pulling strings.

Enough time passed so Tim 'replacing' Jason wasn't a raw wound anymore. It didn't hurt that Red had also been replaced at this point too. Shoved out of the way to make room for the family. Like Jason. Like Damian. Like Dick. The real sons.

Mostly though, Tim thought Jason finds it more useful to keep Red breathing instead of trying to stab him with a Batarang.

Again.

It's moderately difficult for a person with a slit throat to track the drugs trade in Gotham.

Shaking his head, Red resumes drumming his thumbs. “You have a terrible sense of humor.”

“Are you kidding me? It’s to die for,” Hood snickers more to himself than Red.

Red closes his eyes briefly, resisting the urge to sigh (because, damn it Hood, that shouldn’t be funny, but it was, so fuck you) before asking, “how’s Roy?”

Tim internal wince when he hears Jason swoon.

He’s fucking swooning.

Like a goddamn Disney Princess.

Oh Gods, when did this become Red’s life.

“He’s fukin’ fantastic. No, really Replacement,” Hood continues loudly over Red’s groans, “he does dis thing, with his tongue, dat makes me c—”

“SO, WHAT CAN I DO FOR YOU?” Red’s voice came out harsher than he intends in order to cover Jason’s gushing.

Red’s rules for dealing with the Bats:

1. Find out what the Bats want.

2. Give it to them.

3. Get the Hell out of Dodge.

The less time Red (Tim) had to spend with the Bats, the better. It wasn’t like he was a welcome part of the Batfamily anymore.

Hell, the only Bat member Red ever communicated with (outside of the job) was Jason. Even then only on the rare occasion Tim was in Gotham. Red put up with it because if Tim starts avoiding Jason, Hood would go out of his way to find and talk to Red. Or Tim. Either would work.

The Titans were not enthusiastic about having the formerly dead Robin on their doorstep, asking after Red and what kind of beer they had. ("PVR? Shit, Replacement, I thought you had class.")

Besides, it was better this way. Everyone was happier in their designated roles. It's easier than trying to fit a square peg into a round hole. Tim is done trying to shove that peg in anymore.

And Red's perfectly fine with it.

“B wants ya ta come ta the Manner for dinner,” Red controls a flinch that Hood graciously ignores. “Alfred making pizza.”

“Can’t. I have to run a trace on a weapons shipment,” Red lies.

It's a white lie, really. The trace on the weapons cargo (a trail Red had been working for fucking weeks now) had long since run cold. Since there were not any criminals out and about, Red should call it a night.

Oblivious as ever, Hood suggests, "do it on da Batcomputer.”

Red stifles a groan. Yes, it made a lot of sense to do it on the Batcomputer. Red hates (and he really, really hates to) to admit it, but the Batcomputer is faster than any setup that he has in Gotham. Plus, it is already hooked into Gotham PD meaning Red wouldn't waste hacking in.

For some reason, the GPD was forever upgrading their systems. It woulda been annoying except for the sense of pride Red got every time he wormed his way back into the database.

Logically, Red should do it on the Batcomputer.

But, returning to the Batcave? Ugh.

For the sake of argument, Red entered the idea of going to the Batcave.

The facts:

1. Batman would be there; that would be…unavoidable.

2. Robin would defiantly be there along with his newest pet. Through the grapevine, Red heard that somehow Robin had convinced both Batman and Agent A that he should be allowed to keep a cow in the Batcave. A cow. And to think, Bats and Agent A nearly had an aneurysm when Red had bring a guinea pig back to the Manner for a science project. It had been in a cage for Heaven sakes, but it had still been a fight to get it through the front door.

Red briefly considered if Robin was keeping the cow (dubbed Batcow for some unholy reason) was being kept in his old workspace before banishing the thought. It wasn’t any of Red’s concern what was happening in the Batcave anymore.

3. Oh fucking hell, Nightwing would be there too, come to think about it. N had moved back to Gotham after the Battle of the Cowl and the ensuing chaos that followed. As far as Red knew, N hadn't gone back to Blüdhaven nor would he after 'Haven had fallen. Nightwing would be inescapable, that is, if N even noticed Red was there. Red started drumming his thumbs again, Gods, he was beginning to sound like an angsty tween. He was twenty, not twelve for fuck sakes.

As much as his stomach yearns for Alfred's pizza, Red didn't want to go through the tedious process of expulsion from the Manor.

Not my place anymore Hood, remember?

"No, I already have all the info synced on my systems. Next time.” The tone that came out of Red's mouth was nothing like his usual tone. It was smooth. Unemotional. Insincere.

If Hood noticed the change in Red's tones, he didn't comment.

* * *

“Where were you?” Dick flips off of the high training bar, landing lightly onto the mat near Jason. Jason fought a grimace at Dick’s smirk. He had never been able to achieve Dick’s level of grace and dat fuckin' acrobatic knew it. And Jason would be damn (again) if that fuckin' asshole didn’t rub it in ta Jason’s face every fuckin' chance he got. Dick strolled pass the Demon who happened to be busy practicing with his katana (and who da fuck's bright idea was it ta give that back ta the kid? Jason, really, really didn't want ta have ta get stitches again) ta invade Jason's bubble.

“Talkin’ ta Tim,” Jason slams his helmet down onto his workbench before starting ta clean his guns.

Each of the members of the Batfamily had their own work area in the cave. Jason’s area near da garage which made it great fer a quick escape. Goldie's has his workbench next ta da mats. Demon Brat's was between Bruce's (next ta da Batcomputer) and Dick's.

The only bench dat had never been touched was fer da Replacement. It stood, damn near gleaming next ta the back of the Batcomputer where the person who was supposed ta be workin' there would have easy access ta da Batcomputer if they (Tim) needs ta repairs it.

Goldie hardly took any notice of what Jason was sayin' ‘cause he was distracted by da Brat. In fairness, it did look like the Demon Brat was tryin' ta hack the practice dummy ta death.

“Oh, that’s nice. Is he coming to dinner?”

“Busy,” Jason grunts.

“Huh, he’s been busy a lot recently,” Dick replies, still starin' at da Demon. “Damian, what on Earth are you doing with that katana? I only gave it back to you because you promised not to hurt anything with it.”

Jason misses da Brat’s response as Dick went over to correct (bicker with) Damian about the katana.

Sometimes, Jason thought, Dick was a fuckin’ idiot.

Replacement—Damn it, Tim, not Replacement (Jason was working on that)— hadn’t been near the Manner for over a year. He hadn’t been near the Batcave in almost half that time.

Yet, neither Bruce nor fuckin’ Goldie seems ta have a goddamn clue about the fucking kid. Sure, they knew what fuckin' CEO: Tim Wayne was doin’. But fuckin' really though, what tabloid didn’t?

Tim though? Ickly Baby Bird though? Dork wonder? They didn’t have a fuckin’ clue. What's worse, neither of them seem ta have a clue dat they didn't have a clue. World Greatest Detective? Shit, they couldn’t see what was goin’ on two inches from their fuckin’ face.

Jason glares down at his workbench. Shit, when had the Replacement—shit Tim— wellbeing been become fuckin’ Jason’s problem?

About a year ago, Re—Tim had gotten Jason’s nuts out of the fire. Not that Jason wouldn’t have figured a way out. He had been pinned down by drug dealers before. Sure, Jason mighta gone in a little hot (and without enough bullets and he mighta been ridin' da pit a bit, but who needed to know that?). He didn’t like drug dealers who would push their crap onto kids. It rubbed 'em the wrong way.

But Tim (fuck yeah, he got his name right)—icky Timmy-wimmy—swung in like it was noth’ and kicked some major ass. He managed to knock all the fuckin’ dealer and tied ‘em up before Jason could say shit.

Then Tim did something that Jason never expected.

He fuckin’ dragged Jason’s sorry ass back ta one of Jason’s safe houses (which Jason still doesn't know how Tim knew about dat one. It wasn't one on any of B's radar) and patched him up before leaving.

“Da fuck you do that for?” Jason slurred.

Blood loss was always a bitch.

Tim shrugged. It mighta been da blood loss, but Replacement- Tim's eyes seemed empty. “Couldn’t leave you there to die, could I?”

Tim left before Jason could respond.

It wasn’t long after dat Jason gave in to Bruce and Dick and started hanging ‘round the bats again.

Jason had expected to see Tim around the cave. After a month of not seeing Tim, he finally cracked and asked the Demon about it.

“Where’s Replacement?”

Dami looked around at him. “Tt. If you’re talking about Drake ,” he sneered the name which made Jason’s eyes roll, “he doesn’t live here anymore.”

"Isn't the kid only like, eighteen?"

Damian stared blankly at Jason. "And your point, Todd?"

Dat was da last time Jason had asked any Tim question ta any of da Bats. He did, from time to time, still yanked on Timmy’s chain, ta make sure the kid was still kickin’.

Alfred's voice pulls 'em from his thoughts as the butler calls them up fer dinner.

* * *

Tim took a deep breath in as he parked his Ducati before entering his Perch.

It had been a long week. If Tim saw one more proposal to sell WE tech to Lexcorp, he was going to scream. Some of the ideas people were having…. Tim had begun to worry about the intelligence level of those who worked for him.

Tim heavily sigh before sliding off his cowl and tunic. He glances down at the rainbow of bruises that were blooming over his torso. No need for (new) stitches tonight. Yay.

Maybe Tam would let him have an easy day tomorrow...? Tim snorts at that idea as he pokes a particular large bruise that's three different shades of purple. He was the CEO of a major company who, on average, spent less than a week a month in the office. So when Tam got him in the office…well, there was lots of paperwork. Tam likes to claim that if he was here more that there’d be less paperwork. Tim disagrees with this. If Tim were in the office more, he would have more paperwork.

Tim finally gets his costume off and pulls on his sweats. Sweats were, in Tim's opinion, one of the best things ever invented. They allow him to feel a bit more like Tim rather than Mr. Wayne or Red Robin.

Tim hums to himself as he left his perch to go up to his apartment.

Unlike his perch (where everything was in prestige condition) Tim's apartment is a disaster. While in Gotham, he was also almost always too busy to clean. After the fourth (or was the fifth?) time Tam had entered his apartment to find it in shambles, she suggested (ordered) Tim get a cleaning service. She even offered to do it herself. Tim had declined the offer because of, well, Bat.

That's how Tim found himself (at three o’clock in the fucking morning) washing his coffee mug before setting up his coffee maker for the morning.

As Tim washed the cup, he debated with himself about whether he needs to sleep tonight when he heard his phone buzz. He glances down to see Conner had sent him a text.

GO TO BED.

Tim grinning types back:

How do you know that I wasn’t snug as a bug in bed and asleep until my phone went off?

Tim sent the message off. Less than ten seconds later (which, crap, that means Con means business), his phone buzzed again.

Because I know you. Go the fuck to bed or you're grounded all weekend.

Tim snorts at that. It isn’t like the metas in the Titans would (could) ground him. He had escape plans for every one of grounding. Although, Raven had threatened she’d poof in his room and take all his Red Robin uniforms. He didn’t want to test that. So Tim texts back:

Fine. Going to bed.

Tim barely gets the coffee grounds out before his phone buzzed again.

NOW or I’m flying over there.

Tim rolls his eyes at his best friend before sending back:

My God, I need to get your cameras out of here. I’m making coffee for the A.M. then straight to bed. Night, worrywart.

As Tim put the finishing touches on the coffee, his phone went off again.

Night, reason why I have an ulcer. Oh, and don’t forget to take your vitamins!

* * *

The next morning at WE was not as bad as he was expecting.

It was so, so, so much worse.

As soon as he got in, Tam grabbed him to tell him that an investor was waiting in Tim’s office. The investor wanted to discuss why his product wasn’t in production yet.

Tim's ears were still ringing as, an hour later, he heads to a board meeting. Trying to get the board to make a decision was like trying to get Bart to slow down. Frustrating and ultimately useless.

By the end of the meeting, Tim wasn’t sure what the meeting had been about or if a decision had even been made. This all happened before lunch.

“You want the usual, Tim?” Tam asks, as Tim was about to reenter his office.

“That sounds fanatics, Tam, thanks.” He gives her a grateful half smile.

Tam hums back. “Oh and Tim, Mr. Wayne requested a meeting with you. Again.”

Tim suppresses a sigh. “What’d you say?”

“That you were going back out of town tonight and I wasn’t sure when you’d be back. Which isn't a lie because I don’t know when you’re going to be back."

Tim rubs his temples ignoring Tam’s glare. A migraine had been threatening to form for the last hour and a guilt trip from Tam was the last thing that Tim needs.

“I promise Tam, when I know, you’ll know.”

She huffs. “Fine then. I’ll get your lunch for you.”

Tim smiles at her. “Thanks, Tam.”

“Oh, I wouldn’t thank me yet. Once Mr. Wayne found out that you were going out of town again he—” but the rest of her sentence was cut off by Bruce.

Bruce coming out of Tim’s office.

Great.

Tim felt his best CEO mask slip into place. He hadn’t seen Bruce since…well, Tim wasn’t sure when the last time that he’d seen Bruce. Let alone been close enough to talk to him.

“There you are, Tim!” Brucie came out in full force this morning.

Great, this is exactly what Tim’s head needs this morning.

“He decided to stop by for a bit. See you in a few, Tim.” Tam shoots him an apologetic look before leaving.

Tam may not know all of what went down between Tim and the Bats, but she did know that it was best to keep them separate if possible or, if not, to get out of the way.

“Bruce. I wasn’t expecting to see you today. How’s Selina?” Tim keeps his voice detached as he processes these new turn of events.

What he wouldn't give for a cup of coffee...

Tim strolls into his office with Brucie following him, the door squeaking shut behind them.

“She’s great! So, son,” Tim suppresses a flinch (not your kid, remember? Just the placeholder between kids. We’re all clear on that, right? Right.). “I didn’t even know that you were in town. I thought you were still in San Francisco.”

“I’m headed there tonight,” Tim begrudgingly informs Bruce. Though neither his expression nor tone changes from the CEO mask. “So, what can I do for you?”

Bruce extracted some files from his jacket (Where did those folders come from? Red did not like not knowing that.) before thrusting them at Tim.

“Can you run the data for me on this case?”

“Not a problem.” Tim flips open the top file.

“Alfred wants you to come for dinner.”

It was a statement. Not a question.

“Can’t, sorry. I’m going to the Tower right after work. Maybe next time.” Tim replies automatically without looking up.

Brucie, however, didn’t seem to notice the tone. He was already on his cellphone, checking something.

“Right then. Next time.” Bruce left before Tim gets a chance to respond. Tim drops the files next to his desk before walking around it and sinking down into his chair. He lightly raps his head against the desk for a minute.

Stupid, stupid, stupid. Tim thinks to himself. He tries to make it a point to not tell the any of Bats of his coming or goings. Really, though, it wasn’t like any of them cared.

A voice in the back of his head (that sounded suspiciously like Con) whispers that it must be the sleep deprivation, which didn’t make any sense. Tim had gotten almost two whole hours of sleep this morning. And that's like ten normal people hours of sleep.

It really isn’t Tim’s fault that the police reports that he had been waiting weeks for had finally been put on to the Gotham server last night. Of course, he had to read them last night just to make sure they were the right ones. He wasn’t going to send the Titans, his team, off on a wild goose chase. So, he had read the report and made his own before going to bed last—this morning.

Tim's pulled from these thoughts by a knock on the door. Tam was standing there, holding a carb salad with raises eyebrows.

“Here is the thing you claim is lunch.” Tam crosses the room and places the box onto Tim’s desk.

Tim sniffs, shuffling Bruce’s papers away. “There is nothing wrong with eating a salad for lunch.”

“It’s not the salad itself I object to. It's the fact that it's your only eating a salad for lunch that weird."

“Who doesn’t like salad?”

“Most sane people.”

Tim snorts. “You realize calling your boss insane isn’t a good idea?”

“Tim, if you fired me, then you’d have to do all the paperwork,” Tam smirks at Tim’s horrified expression. “Yeah, I think my job is safe. What did Mr. Wayne want?” She nonchalantly asks.

Tim stiffens at the question. “He just wanted some data.” Tim flips the lid off the salad to see a full family sized salad sitting in front of him. “I think you may have gotten too much.”

“No, I didn't. You'll need the energy. The Lexcorp officials are coming after lunch for an impromptu meeting. Don't worry,” Tam continues at Tim's groan, "I've already told Steve down at Security to run interference." Tam turns to leave. “And I expect all of that salad to be gone by the time I get back mister,” she adds in her best mock motherly voice.

“Yes, Ma’am.” And Tim took an exaggeratedly large bit at Tam’s glare.

* * *

The rest of the day at WE went by relatively smoothly. Tim's even able to get out at a reasonable hour.

Miraculous, Tim had been able to finish the whole salad. Or, maybe it wasn’t a miracle; just Tim failing at remembering to feed himself. Tam was always good at making sure Tim ate. She claims that he was just too skinny and would attempt to force-feed him every chance she got.

Tim hums to himself as he unlocks the front door to his apartment. He was supposed to be at the tower by midnight. For once, he didn’t have to rush to get there or run the risk of being late.

There were even times that Tim thought that his three-floor apartment a little…much.

When Tim had bought it, he'd never expected that all of the space would bother him. Spending most of his childhood alone at the Drake house and then at the Manner, large empty space had never been an issue.

And Tim had been fine with it until he had started to spend more time at the tower. Tim smiles at the thought of the other Titans while dumping his briefcase onto the couch and throwing his suit jacket down too (his mother, or Alfred for that matter, would have been horrified that Tim had just thrown a custom made Armani suit onto the ground, like trash? but, hey, they weren’t here so what they do?). Tim heads down the hallway towards his bedroom, taking off the pieces of Tim Wayne: CEO costume off so he could put on his Tim Drake: Red Robin uniform on instead.

The tie went on the guest bathroom’s doorknob, and the shoes get kicked down the hallway ahead (making a small crashing noise) of him into his room. By the time Tim reached his bedroom, he was just in his undershirt and pants.

Red stills.

Something wasn’t right.

Red looks around, trying to figure out what was misplaced. His eye roved over the neat mess also known as his closet. He really should get somebody in to clean it but who has the time to vet a new hire? His dresser was pulled open with clothing spilling out of it.

Tim did have a ridiculous amount of clothing.

Tim’s eyes froze on his bedside table. There was the usual clutter (empty soda cans, coffee mugs, Chinese food containers, etc.) but there, sitting neatly embedded on top of all of the disarray was a gleaming knife.

A blade used personally by the Demon’s Head.

Tim had only seen that dagger a handful of times before. None of those memories were pleasant.

A bubble of panic began to form in his chest. Shit, shit, shit. I do not have time for this today Ra’s. Tim casually reached towards his distress beacon.

He hadn’t even moved an inch before pain met him.

Tim was hurled forward before slamming down onto his bed by a force behind him.

“Now, now, Detective. We can’t have you spoiling all the fun now, can we?” Ra’s voice came from a spot a few feet in front of Tim where he'd magically appeared.

Fucking hell. I don’t have time for this.

“We wouldn’t want you to call those pesky Titans, now would we?”

“Go to Hell, Ra's.” Tim's voice was somewhat less intimidating, what with the three ninjas smashing into his back and a pillow smothering him.

“Tut, tut. Language, young Detective.” Tim feels the stab of a syringe going into his neck followed by a burning sensation. The world began to get fuzzy. “It wouldn’t do for the next Demon’s Head to insult his predecessor.”

There's a rushing noise in Tim's ears which is only drowned out by the steady beat of his heart. Lights begain to dim. Tim's arms were getting heavery as he struggled to move. Tim give a weak kick towards the person pinning him down wich barely rocks the bed. The world is quickly closing in on Tim.

Before he completely passes the fuck out, Tim manage to say, “What would you prefer Ra’s, Real Housewives of Gotham or Metropolis? Because one of those will be playing on a loop for days before I’m done.”

The last sound Tim hears before sleep overtakes him is of Ra's laughing.

Thanks for reading!

AO3 link here:

https://archiveofourown.org/works/18106355/chapters/42802829

#Tim Drake #Jason Todd #Dick Grayson #Damian Wayne #Conner Kent #Tam Fox #Bruce Wayne #Ra's al Ghul

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fullmetalscullyy · 5 years

Text

hit and run - chapter 14

summary: Riza Hawkeye is a thief who is trying to get by in Victorian Central. Hard times fell on her family, tuberculosis claiming her mother and then her father when she was a teenager. Now, femme fatale Riza steals to put food on the table for herself, her canine companion - an abandoned puppy who just won’t leave her alone - and two brothers with circumstances similar to her own. However, dipping her hands into the pockets of the rich and famous is always a dangerous game.

rated: m | words: 3895

title: “hit and run” by lolo

read on ao3 and ffnet

Edward was jerked awake by shouts. He shot up in bed despite the sleep trying to claim him and return his mind to unconsciousness. “Al,” he called, nudging his brother’s leg in the bed next to him. Alphonse stirred with a quiet whine but burrowed back underneath the sheet. Blinking away sleep, Edward ripped open their bedroom door and was met with a sight he didn’t expect.

There was a flurry of activity outside the door. People were moving in both directions up the corridor of the Madame’s mansion, some walking with another, others running. There were orders being shouted, street names, and people equipping themselves with weapons as they moved. They were all heading in one direction – towards the Madame’s office.

“Ed!” Rebecca was hurrying up the corridor towards him. “Get Al ready,” she ordered. Her eyes were filled with determination, but there was relief in her tone, her eyes wet. “They found them.”

Edward didn’t need to be told twice. He knew exactly who she was talking about. He nodded once and ran back in his room, the door closing softly behind him. He begun to change while nudging Alphonse’s leg harder to urge him awake.

“Al, wake up.”

“No…” he whined.

“Al, they found them.”

“Who?” he asked sleepily, finally cracking open an eye at his older brother who was already dressed and pulling his jacket on over his clothes.

“Mustang and Riza.” There was a brief pause as Alphonse processed the information then he surged upwards and out of bed, beginning to get dressed. Edward opened the wardrobe filled with their personal effects and begun arming himself. He paused on one knife in particular. It was a knife Riza had given him shortly after she took them under her wing.

Use this as a means to protect yourself, she'd told Ed. I never want you to have to take a life – and I will do everything in my power to stop that from becoming a reality for you – but always look out for yourself and your brother.

I’ll always protect you Edward – Alphonse too. I’ll always watch your back.

Edward gripped the handle tighter, his resolve strengthening. It was time for them to look out for her.

Alphonse was dressed and fully equipped in less than two minutes. The two made their way to the Madame’s personal office together, moving through the now nearly empty corridors.

They were stopped at the door but not by anyone. They froze in surprise when they saw the amount of people who’d amassed in the office, who were there to fight for their friend and bring her home. People milled about, speaking with one another so there was a low buzz in the room. The atmosphere was determined, the people agreeing with one another and formulating plans.

“Ed!” Rebecca called, beckoning them over with a hurried wave.

“Are all these people here to help?” Alphonse asked in wonder.

Rebecca nodded. “They are. Although, their main interest is probably Roy.” Edward frowned. Mustang wasn’t the centre of the universe, unlike what some people thought here - Edward had heard many women whispering and giggling about Roy as he moved through the mansion before he’d disappeared. There was someone else involved here too.

Hell, he and Alphonse had almost joined Riza. They’d almost been caught by Kimblee’s men when they’d exited the storm drain back up on the bridge. Edward had grabbed Alphonse and dragged him over the wall of the bridge, down into the street below where the crowds were gathering, many screaming people’s names or fighting through the throng to try to either escape or find someone. They’d lost them in the chaos. Rebecca had found them and sent them packing back to the Madame’s mansion, not taking no for an answer, while she went to recon the area. They’d sat for hours for any news, both their stomachs filling with lead when Rebecca and Gracia returned without Riza, both looking defeated and fearful. Mr. Hughes had wrapped his arms around Gracia and comforted her, whispering things softly in her ear. Rebecca had no one, and looked like she’d needed a hug, but Alphonse had already beaten Ed to the punch. Edward had guessed correctly, because she hugged Alphonse tightly and didn’t let him go for some time.

Mr. Hughes was the one spearheading the search for Mustang and Riza. He’d stressed for both boys to call him by his first name, but it felt so wrong. He felt too much like a father figure to them. Both brothers had come to the conclusion one night after the first meeting of the rescue operation. They’d lain awake that night, both too wired to sleep, and in a brief moment of hilarity, they’d both come to that conclusion together, laughing and amused. They didn’t know their real father, so had no one to compare Mr. Hughes to, but there was no other role in their life that he fit into.

Needless to say the search had been relentless. They’d been missing for three days but now, it appeared they’d been found. Mr. Hughes stood at the Madame’s desk, with the woman herself standing behind it at the back, overseeing the operation.

“Everyone,” Mr. Hughes called to get the room's attention. The murmur stopped almost instantly, the only sound was fabric rubbing together as people turned towards the man in charge. “Thank you all for coming on such short notice, and at this time of night too.” It was currently four o’clock in the morning. The sun was only just beginning to peak over the tall hedges that surrounded the edge of the Madame’s property. “We really appreciate that,” he added, gesturing between himself and the Madame. Edward had learned that Mr. Hughes was Mustang’s partner. They worked every job together, leaving them feeling more like brothers than friends.

“Mustang is family, there’s no way we would miss this,” someone called out.

“Not to mention miss the opportunity to take down that bastard!” another answered. There was a murmur of agreement around the room with others voicing their support with shouts for Mustang. Mr. Hughes tried to calm and quieten them down, but to no avail. Edward began to feel indignation on Riza’s behalf at the show of support for Mustang. While he was pleased all these people were willing to help, she was out there too –

“Not to mention Miss Riza,” a woman called out over the cacophony of noise. The sounds of agreement were louder than they were for Mustang. “We wouldn’t leave her in the hands of that bastard.”

Edward shared a look with Alphonse and Rebecca, feeling emotion swell in his chest.

Ever since coming here and ever since their disappearing, it seemed everyone had forgotten about Riza. Everyone talked about Mustang-this, or Mustang-that, never about her. She deserved it as much as anyone.

“Everyone, settle down!” Mr. Hughes barked out. Once it was quiet, his voice softened. “We’re here for both of them, and thank you for your show of support.” Mr. Hughes glanced over to Edward. “I know her family appreciate your desire to see her back home safe and well.” Another murmur of agreement swept the room and Edward had to blink away tears and take a deep breath. Maes commanded the attention of the room once more. "All right everyone, let's get down to business."

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

Roy had to watch the men come and take Riza away three more times. Fury and hatred burned inside him so brightly every time they took her and brought her back looking worse for wear. The emotions were almost suffocating him, leaving his chest heaving with breath as he bit his tongue so he wouldn’t make Riza’s situation any worse than it already was. All he could offer Kimblee’s men was a glare.

She wasn’t back from her third trip out of their cell yet.

It didn’t save his wrists though. They were getting worse with every passing day. Numbness had set in first, but now there was a dull ache and his skin felt like it was burning. Infection was probably rampant but it was nothing compared to the treatment Riza had received so he didn’t complain. They would jerk angrily in their restraints when he was feeling frustrated and angry – sometimes he wouldn’t even realise he was doing it – but Riza’s touch always calmed him. She'd run her hands over his and it felt like a salve to the burn that was ever present. If he was being perfectly honest, he wasn’t fully relaxed until she was next to him. He hated to ask it of her, but without asking, every time she was brought back she would shuffle her way painfully over to his side. It would soothe his heart rate and belay his worry because the steady presence of her weight leaning against him would calm him right down after seeing that she was as okay as she could be.

His heart beat painfully in his chest every time he heard her laboured breathing. When she passed out that was what he’d focus on because there was nothing else. After the second time she was taken away a wheeze had become apparent in her breathing and that did nothing for his frustration and despair.

He’d also realised he’d come to care for her more than he thought. Every time she was shoved to the floor, Roy watched on, furious at the treatment, but powerless to do anything to stop it. He’d begun to hate himself for his helplessness and his stupidity at getting caught. Riza was paying the price for that and Roy had already decided he’d never forgive himself for it. He wouldn’t blame her if she didn’t forgive him either. Riza had shushed him and told him not to worry about it – among a myriad of other things he blamed himself for – but he couldn’t bring himself to do it.

He’d preached to her for months about how he’d always have her back, and that she should return to the mansion and accept the Madame’s protection because they’d all watch out for her. Where was that promise now? When she was being taken away and harmed against her will and he was trapped and tied to a fucking wall, stuck, unable to help her?

Roy definitely didn’t deserve her forgiveness.

The door opened as Riza returned from her third excursion. Roy straightened his spine in anticipation, eyes eagerly watching to see if she was all right, but he froze when his eyes settled on her.

Riza was forcefully walked – well, limped would be the more appropriate word – into the room with a knife at her throat. Her eyes were cast downwards and there was an expression on her face that didn’t sit right with him. She almost looked defeated… Roy’s stomach sank.

“Riza?” he called to her, trying to get some kind of reaction, but there was nothing. Not even a flinch.

“It’s no use,” the man beside Riza and her captor stated, voice bored. “On your feet,” he ordered. Roy stared at him defiantly, not moving. When he’d waited too long, the knife was pressed harder against her throat and drew blood, causing Riza to gasp quietly at the sharp pain but she never lifted her head.

“Wait!” Roy cried, instantly feeling horrible. He’d fucked up. Again. “Okay, just... wait. I’ll get up.” It was an arduous affair – his wrists screaming in protest as the metal felt like it was grinding against bone – but he made it. The man walked over and released his shackles from the wall, wrapping the chain around his arm so it wouldn’t drag on the floor and tugged on it, indicating Roy should begin walking. Roy hissed in pain – the movement unexpected – and protested. The man responded with another sharp tug. Roy grit his teeth but began to move. Riza was released from her restraint, but again, there was no reaction. Her eyes remained on the floor as they walked, her movements mechanical.

“Are you all right?” he murmured. Nothing. Worry began to pool in his gut, eating away at him along with the dread that was already present from the moment he’d set eyes on her again. Her expression was so vacant, only responding to pain. Her eyes never lifted from the floor, never responded to his questions. They continued to walk in silence, even the men escorting them offered no sharp warnings or commands.

Roy warily eyed an ornately carved oak door. It looked incredibly out of place within The Vaults. Something this lavish didn’t look like it belonged next to the weeping walls that oozed both water and another questionable green liquid. The men stepped through, bringing their prisoners with them, and Roy felt his blood boil when he set eyes on Kimblee for the first time. His lips curled into a snarl, but it was quickly stopped with a tug on the chain attached to his wrists.

“Mr. Mustang,” Kimblee greeted smoothly, a smug smile on his face. Roy glared at him but opted to remain silent. He didn’t think his wrists could survive another assault. They already felt like they were going to snap. Whenever his captor tugged on that damned chain he saw stars dance in his vision and felt like he might black out with the pain. It stole his breath away. “How nice to meet you again.”

Roy wanted to scream and yell at the bastard, but just glared. He’d quickly learned to keep his mouth shut. “Kimblee,” he stated coolly.

“My apologies we’ve not met before now. I’ve been… preoccupied.” His gaze flicked over to Riza and Roy stiffened when he saw his sleazy smile grow even wider.

“What did you do to her?” Roy snarled, unable to keep it in any longer.

“I did nothing,” he replied smoothly. “But she’s been broken. Finally.” His eyes leered at Riza and Roy jerked the chain in anger to try and tear his eyes off of her. He was so angry he didn’t even notice the pain.

“What did you do?”

Kimblee’s eyes flicked towards the man holding Roy’s chain. In the next instant it was pulled tight, leaving him gasping in pain, his breaths stuttering as he felt his vision greying. There was still no movement from Riza. “I already answered your question.” The chain was still tight and it forced Roy to his knees. He was bent over, panting for breath, eyes on the floor swimming beneath him.

“Just… Leave her alone,” he panted.

Kimblee shook his head. “It doesn’t work like that. She slighted me before and had to pay. Now, she has.”

His words stirred something inside Roy’s brain. The vacant look on her face, the lack of response, the defeated look in her eyes… Had Kimblee…?

She’s been broken. Finally.

Roy surged to his feet, charging at Kimblee. In his mind he had visions of wrapping the chain around the man’s neck and squeezing until there was nothing left between the metal. The lunge caught his captor by surprise and he lost his grip on the chain, allowing Roy to get closer than Kimblee probably wanted him to. There was no thought to his actions. His hands were bound together so there was no way he’d be able to attack him, but Roy was blinded by his anger and his hatred. This man before him had done inexcusable things to Riza and he needed to pay for it.

Arms grabbed his elbows, clamping down and pulling them backwards, hard. The shackle was pressed into his stomach, pulling his wrists apart but he was too far gone to even notice any pain.

“Take him to the white room.”

Roy was dragged backwards, struggling against his restraint, snarling. “Fuck you, Kimblee,” he’d shouted. “Riza!” Still no reaction. “Riza, please! Answer me!” Nothing.

Kimblee stood in one fluid movement and approached Riza, placing a hand on her shoulder. She flinched at the contact but didn’t move away. Roy’s fight waned for a second as he watched, realising that Kimblee probably had broken Riza and done the awful thing Roy thought he’d done.

“Please,” Roy whispered as he was dragged out of the room.

“You will watch this, my dear,” he heard Kimblee murmur lowly to her.

Roy had failed. He’d failed to watch her back. He’d failed to protect her from Kimblee, resulting in something awful happening to her. Seeing that defeated look, those broken eyes… Roy knew what Kimblee meant by ordering his men to take him to the “white room”. He was going to die, and although he felt the panic rise in him at the prospect, that primal response to that news was wiped clean by the horror of what he’d done to Riza, or failed to do for her.

Said “white room” was indeed, painted white. There was an incredibly strong smell of disinfectant and chemical that made Roy gag. A myriad of weapons lay on a table and there was one chair in the centre of the room, equipped with leather straps to restrain him.

This was it.

Kimblee’s hand still remained on Riza’s shoulder possessively as they entered the room. Roy was finally freed from the metal chain and he gasped in pain as air rushed over his battered wrists. He looked down at them and blanched at the sight. The skin looked like it was beyond saving. It was worn thin and bloody. Where the shackle had sat, the skin sat lower, like the metal had slowly rubbed away at the skin, almost hitting the bone.

“You have two minutes with your wife,” Kimblee sneered before all the men left the room, leaving just the two of them. As soon as their backs were turned Roy stumbled over to Riza. He’d forgotten he’d referred to Riza as his wife as a cover. He had a fleeting thought, in what was supposedly going to be his final few minutes alive. Oh, how I wish that was true.

“Riza?” he asked quietly, cupping her face in his hands gently. His wrists protested at the movement but he ignored it. His head dipped, trying to catch her eye, but they were still focussed on the floor. “Riza, please, talk to me.” The request came out as a whisper, a hint of a sob in his throat as he begged her to respond to him.

He felt helpless. There was so much he wanted to say at once, but didn’t have the time. A small voice in his head whispered that he didn’t deserve to get all of it out and reveal his true feelings for the woman in front of him.

Roy wrapped his arms around her shoulders, eyes squeezed together tightly when he realised her arms were still hung limp by her sides. Still, no reaction from her. He bit back a sob, biting his lip as a tear rolled down his cheek.

“I’m so sorry,” he whispered, unable to hold back the emotion any longer. “I’m so sorry for everything I’ve put you through. You didn’t deserve it. You haven’t deserved any of this, and yet, you took it in your stride and told me not to worry about you, told me it wasn’t my fault, when it was.

“I don’t deserve your forgiveness,” he continued, voice cracking. “So I won’t ask for it. Know this, though,” he added, pulling away and placing both hands on her shoulders, bending at the knees so he could look into those vacant eyes. Oh, how he’d grown to love those eyes… “At first it may have been out of guilt that I helped you, but recently it’s been out of love.” He stopped when he saw her twitch. Did she just…? “I love you, Riza Hawkeye,” he stated passionately, desperately watching for a reaction. There was another twitch in her body. “I suppose I always have, I was just too dumb to realise it.”

The door creaked open. Roy quickly pressed his forehead against Riza’s. “I love you,” he whispered. “I don’t deserve to, but I do.” Footsteps as his captors entered the room, signalling the start of his demise while tearing him away from a bubble he wanted to live in forever. “Never forget that. Please." He pressed his lips to her forehead. Roy’s eyes never left Riza’s face as he was hauled towards the chair in the centre of the room. He watched as a tear rolled down her cheek, feeling some relief that he’d managed to get through to her.

Hands forced him into the chair roughly, strapping his forearms and ankles to the chair. His eyes never left Riza as the men who restrained him left the room.

There was a loud thud from behind the door. The man behind Kimblee turned in confusion, hand rising to his belt to arm himself but he never got the chance. He was knocked backwards and bumped into his boss, causing Kimblee to stumble forwards. He whirled in a rage as Roy’s chest swelled with hope. Riza’s head snapped up, eyes meeting his and burning with the same fury Roy had felt minutes ago. She burst into action, flicking a knife into Kimblee’s back. He cried out, staggering forwards before turning with a snarl on his face, meeting Riza’s cold gaze.

“You bitch,” he growled.

“You bastard,” Riza shot back in a snarl. It was like a switch bad been flicked, and she was back to her old self. Roy was still struggling to comprehend it.

Kimblee took one step forward but was knocked flat on his stomach by none other than Vanessa. Roy blinked at the sight before him, too stunned to even move. His adoptive sister was kneeling all her weight on Kimblee’s back, restraining him, while Riza stood over his body, a hidden weapon drawn, no longer the puppet she appeared to be just moments ago.

Was she…?

Was she all right after all?

Roy felt relief surge in his chest and tears collect in his eyes. He let out a breath in a rush. It appeared Riza had only just then remembered he was there. She spun around at the sound of his exhale, eyes meeting his before she hurriedly limped over. With shaking hands she undid the straps. Once free Roy shot up from the chair, wrapping his arms around her tightly. He buried his face in her hair, breathing it in despite the days worth of dirt, dust, and grime, all the while feeling the urge to burst into tears.

“You’re okay?” he breathed, relief making his limbs shake as her hands gripped his body tightly.

Riza nodded against him. “I’m all right,” she replied, voice a whisper. “I’m sorry –”

Roy shushed her. “It’s all right. You’ve come back to me. That’s all that matters.”

She pulled away, eyes full of unshed tears. "It was just an act, I'm sorry -"

He cupped her cheeks in his hands like he had before, but this time it was with joy by his side, not despair and worry. He ignored the shake of his hands as his injured wrists protested at the action. A soft smile graced Roy's lips because he was just so damn happy that she was all right. Kimblee hadn't broken her like he'd boasted. Riza stopped her apology in its tracks, eyes focussed on his expression instead. "It's all right," he soothed. He removed one hand, brushing her fringe off her face and tucking a strand of her short hair behind her ear. His head dipped and Riza rose to meet him, pressing her lips against his hard in the kiss, her hands moving to grip the front of his shirt, fisting it in her palms.

"I love you too," she whispered back to him, causing Roy to bundle her tightly in his arms, never wanting to let go.

#royai #royai fanfic #royai fic #royai au #emma writes #hit and run

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m00nslippers · 5 years

Text

I feel like I need to justify why I haven’t posted any writing at all in like a month or two, so here’s the first part of a WIP.

No Title yet. I’m shit at titles.

Fandom: Batman, Red Hood And The Outlaws, Red Hood/Arsenal, Grayson, Nightwing Relationships: Jason Todd/Dick Grayson, Jason Todd & Damian Wayne, Tim Drake & Damian Wayne Characters: Jason Todd, Damian Wayne, Dick Grayson, Timothy Drake, Bruce Wayne, Alfred Pennyworth, Talia Al'Ghul, Roy Harper, Helena Bertinelli, Tiger | Agent 1 Tags: No Capes AU, Jason was never adopted by Bruce, Spyral Agent Dick, Bodyguard/Mercenary Jason, Child Soldiers, PTSD, Survivor’s Guilt, Talia is a good-ish mom, Tiger is so done with Dick, Brief elements of Racism and American Imperialism in the Middle East.

Summery: When Spyral Agent Dick Grayson accompanies his brother Tim to his school science fair, he meets his brother's stuffy arch-rival Damian and realizes he's the son of Talia Al Ghul, heir to the Al Ghul international criminal empire that has its tentacles in everything from high-profile political assassinations to weapons trafficking. Concerned about the danger the association poses to his younger brother, Dick decides to find out more...and comes up against Damian's dangerously attractive bodyguard, Jason Todd.

- - -

Timothy was sighing as he lead Dick to his school auditorium. “I'm telling you Dick, it's fine.”

But Dick was not having it. He frowned and pulled his suit blazer a little closer around him in the chilly night air as they crossed the parking lot, approaching the lights and bustle of the school building.

“How is it fine?” he asked Tim. “You're getting a first place prize for your science fair project and Bruce doesn't even have the decency to come!”

He wasn't mad about this a few minutes ago, but seeing all the families spilling out of the building, children hugging parents and vice versa for a job well done or consolation at having underperformed, made Dick feel like a half-assed chaperone. Bruce should have been here with them, and Alfred, and Steph and Conner and all Tim's other friends, but instead it's just him and he didn't feel like he was doing a great job of being support, even if it was just for a high school science fair.

Tim rolled his eyes. “This is my fourth one, Dick. And he had an important business meeting, I already told him it was okay that he couldn't make it. I meant that. It's just the district-wide competition. Now if I get one from the state, then his ass better show up.”

Dick didn't think a business meeting was a great excuse—he'd been privy to it enough in his own youth to find it played out—but Tim seemed sincere so maybe it really was important. “Well, you could have had Alfred come at least. He wanted to, even.”

“He's still pretending he doesn't have a cold. I'd rather he just rest,” Tim argued, and okay, Dick could see that. Neither of them wanted Alfred to exert himself when he wasn't feeling well and the night air could be hard on an old man.

“Besides, having a brothers' night out isn't so bad,” Tim added with a shrug. “We don't get to hang out much, especially just us.”

Dick beamed and Tim smiled back. Technically speaking, Dick should have more time with family since he'd quit the Blüdhaven police force (more like he was drummed out for being against the corruption and refusing to fall in line) and moved back to Gotham to work for Spyral, but in practice he'd been out of town for months at a time on field work until just recently. So maybe this was fine. Just him and Tim, brotherly bonding. It wasn't half-assed, it was exclusive. Okay.

Suddenly Tim's smile fell, avoiding looking at someone in the crowd as he half hid behind his older, taller brother. “Actually, let's just skip the awards ceremony and go straight to sushi,” Tim suggested with a suspiciously too-pleasant voice. “I mean, one big fancy ribbon is just like another, right? And who needs jealous, begrudging applause from the Gotham Academy Science Club Captain? I'm so over the rush of smug superiority it gives me.”

Dick narrowed his eyes. “Okay, the Timothy Drake-Wayne I know would never say that. What's going on?”

Tim tried to manhandle Dick into turning around, but Dick was curious enough at his adoptive brother's behavior to stand his ground.

“Damn it, too late.” Tim winced and stepped back out from behind Dick to paste a tight smile on his face.

A dark young boy with flashing jade eyes strode up to Tim and somehow looked down his nose at the taller boy from a few inches under five feet tall. He was clearly younger than Tim, but he held himself as if the whole world was his to command and his shoulders were as straight as any boardroom executive. Despite being fairly sure he'd never seen the kid before, Dick found him uncannily familiar, though he couldn't say why. Then Dick had an odd flash of Bruce icing out an idiot at a Wayne Gala, and comparing Bruce's general demeanor to some jumped-up little kid had Dick choking back a laugh. This was probably exactly what he was like as a child, Dick suspected. He'd run into Bruce's tiny doppelganger.

As the child stopped in front of Tim, Dick realized he had a shadow. Behind the boy stalked a man who made Dick feel small and somehow still managed to slink smoothly at the boy's heels like a massive guard dog with movements that spoke of training and deadly skill that put him on high alert. Dick found himself frowning as his muscles tensed, his brain leaping automatically into Agent Thirty-Seven mode as he assessed the man's threat potential and realized it was way too high for their venue. This wasn't the kind of person he expected to run into at a school function. This was more like the kind of people Dick dealt with in his day job.

“Drake, I see you've made an appearance at this shabby competition,” the boy spoke in an imperious tone, his accent something like Britain colored by the Middle East. “First place in the High School division was it? The standards for schooling in this country must be even lower than I'd been lead to believe for someone of your caliber to rise to the top.”

“Damian, so you're here,” Tim droned. “And you've pinned your first place ribbon in the Junior High division to your blazer like a prize pig at a state fair. You look pretty proud of yourself, despite those so-called low standards you're delusional about.” Tim's eyelids had lowered at the boy, Damian, in an annoyed, dismissive way that surprised Dick. Tim was generally a friendly, understanding person, even the loathed Franklin Debauer the Third, the Science Club Captain, didn't get this level of hostility.

Damian clicked his tongue and gave a haughty scoff. “Please, Drake. It's clear to me that you're basal intellect couldn't stand up to real competition. I'm only disappointed that our age difference is such that you'll be ineligible to participate in the judging when I've graduated to the high school division.”

Timothy sneered. “Yes, I'm sure it's such a relief for you to know I'll be above such petty concerns as a high school science fair competition with children when I'm in college and can't utterly crush you and your cute little excuse of an experiment. Being surrounded by small fish is where you excel, isn't it?”

Dick's eyes widened. Wow. What the hell was going on? Dick had never seen Tim engage in this kind of sharp repartee and as entertaining as it was, Dick wasn't sure he liked seeing Tim this way. “Tim,” he hastily interrupted, “why don't you introduce me to your friends.”

Tim sighed and gestured vaguely at Damian, who was now looking Dick up and down, measuring him against some invisible standard and finding him wanting. “Dick, this is Damian. Just a kid at my school. He recently moved to Gotham from outside the country. And that's...Mr. Todd? He's Damian's bodyguard, or his babysitter. One of the two.”

Dick's attention snapped back to the man standing behind Damian with an easy stance that to his trained eye concealed coiled violence. Bodyguard, huh? Dick chewed on the idea for a moment before he decided it was a reasonable explanation for the man's presence. Gotham Academy was a rich school, plenty of paranoid billionaires here employed some kind of personal security. They just weren't usually at this level of ability. Mr. Todd was the real deal, he could tell that much by the way his eyes swept over the parking lot and calculated the vectors of people passing by.

Dick decided to work under the assumption that Mr. Todd was who he said he was—for now.

He reached out to shake hands with Mr. Todd and found himself examining the man's large, rough hands with too many scars, filing every detail away in the back of his mind. His gaze followed those hands to the man's muscular arms and broad shoulders filling out a brown leather jacket like a dream. Mr. Todd's face was no less distracting to Dick. He was much younger than Dick would have expected, with a wide mouth, a thin nose that showed signs of having been broken, and dark, hooded brows cut by a scar, shadowing eyes the color of sea glass.

Dick found himself drawn in by those eyes that seemed to gaze deep into him, down to his bones. For a few seconds he forgot that he'd just labeled this man a 'dangerous individual to be watched closely' and indulged himself in the attraction.

But then Mr. Todd pulled back his hand and Dick saw the subtle cling of his jacket over those shoulders and he realized the man was carrying a gun.

Dick scowled.

“He is not my babysitter!” Damian objected with a pout.

Mr. Todd's laugh was gravelly and deep, sending shivers up Dick's spine. “Naw, I'd say that's accurate. But don't ever call me Mr. Todd. Jason or Jay is fine,” the man said in a thick Gotham accent, wearing a smirk that would have had Dick's stomach doing flip-flops if he wasn't trying to subtly undress the man in a way that was much less fun than Dick wanted it to be—instead of imagining the man's assets, Dick was looking for more concealed weapons. Now that he knew to look, he suspected there would be a few.

Anger boiled within him and Dick glared up at the man who had the nerve to bring a gun into a school. “Okay, but do you have a permit for those firearms, 'Jay'?”

Mr. Todd—Jason—frowned and all the charm drained from his expression. From the subtle changes in his stance, the set of his shoulders and the way his eyes went dark and hollow, Dick could confirm he was dealing with a very dangerous man. He had met dictators, mercenaries, psychopaths and assassins that didn't have a fraction of the menace as this Mr. Todd was aiming his way. It would have been impressive if it wasn't so unnerving.

“You a cop, or something?” Jason said, now looking over Dick in the same minutely analytical way as he had moments before, though Jason wouldn't find any weapons on Dick, outside of a pocket-perfume sprayer filled with the most potent mace Spyral's R&D could concoct. He didn't carry a gun outside of the field. He wouldn't carry a gun at all if he could manage it.

“Or something,” Dick acknowledged, but by the highly competent way Jason had taken in his shoes, clothing, haircut, lack of weapons and general demeanor, Dick figured he'd already come to a conclusion that couldn't be far off the mark.

“Dick...” Tim warned him through hissed teeth.

Jason clenched his jaw and gave Dick a glare that he fully believed could stop men's hearts in more ways than one.

“Yeah, I've got your permit right here,” he growled. And while Dick held himself back from attempting a disarm, Todd reached one hand into an inner pocket in his jacket to pull out what Dick recognized as a diplomatic visa from Qurac that might as well have been a get-out-of-jail-free card.

With his other hand, he firmly flipped Dick a middle finger.

Dick raised a brow. “That's not a permit, that's a visa. But it's a good head start on some of the other documents I want to see from you now.”

Jason released a put-upon sigh and flashed Dick a smile with too many teeth. He stepped right into Dick's space and nearly backed him up into Tim, trying to intimidate Dick with his threatening bulk and delicious looking mouth—wait, no, not that last one. The intimidation was only sort of working, since Dick fully believed the man was as dangerous as he was portraying himself to be, but Dick had never been properly scared of anything in his life, and he had the skills to back up his bravery.

“So it's going to be like that,” Jason said, low and quiet and far more frightening than shouting could ever be. “Fine. Look, buddy, this is a fucking school. The kid just got his science fair award, he's not a goddamn terrorist, he is a child. You and all of your pals are wasting your time and pissing me off—and I'm sure you've got a whole stack of files that explain exactly what happens when you piss me off. Now you turn yourself around and tell whatever ABC-soup agency you're from to leave Damian the fuck alone, or I'm going to test how far this diplomatic immunity extends. And I don't know what you did to get Timmy in on your cover, but leave him alone too while your at it.” He turned his head and spat directly on Dick's shoes with a curled lip of disgusted and stepped back. “The government using kids in my own damn country. It's sick. It's fucking reprehensible.”

Dick frowned in confusion, feeling as if he was missing a piece of the conversation, and not just because he'd had trouble tearing his eyes and imagination away from Jason's dynamic mouth. “I think we have a misunderstanding here,” he realized.

Jason just snarled, ready to tell Dick off again, but his charge interrupted him. “Drake! Do you always let your bodyguard interrupt your conversations? It's unprofessional.”

Tim's eyes were flicking from Dick to Jason with suspicion, but it seemed he couldn't resist the other boy's taunts as he turned to the kid with a sniff. “Dick isn't my bodyguard, he's my brother. I'm not such an asshole that I have people trying to kill me twenty-four seven, like you.”

Dick's brows snapped together as he warned, “Tim...” It was one thing to exchange clever banter with one's rival, but flinging bald insults was crossing a line.

Damian snorted, oddly unperturbed at being called an asshole, as well as the suggestion of his life being under threat. “Despite your complete lack of class and intellect, you are a Wayne heir, are you not Drake? Clearly your adoptive father isn't particularly interested in your well-being if he sends you around alone. On the contrary, my mother cares for me.”

Tim shook his head, his face flushed with anger. “Yeah no, Damian. You don't get to imply that Bruce doesn't love me because he doesn't make me walk around with an armed thug at my back.” Said armed thug raised a brow, looked vaguely amused at being labeled as such. “He had a really important meeting, but he offered to ditch it just for me, and my brother worked all day but he showed up just to see me get a dinky award I've already won three years in a row. Who came with you? No one. Just your bodyguard, and he's paid to be there. It seems like you're the one no one cares about him, not me. Where's your precious mother? Do you even know who your father is? What are you even doing here, Damian, you ever think of that?”

Dick gasped, “Tim!” at the same moment as Damian rose on his hackles like a pissed off cat and snarled, “You—!”

“Okay,” Jason interrupted, stepping between Tim and Damian before either could make a move as Dick just found himself staring at Tim in shock that he would say something so cruel. Whatever was gong on with his bodyguard, Damian was still just a kid.

Jason cast a displeased stare Tim's way, and Dick realized that Timothy must like or respect Jason somewhat because his brother ducked his head in shame. “This little rivalry thing you kids have got going on here is cute, but that's enough with the trash talk.” Jason bodily turned Damian toward the parking lot and started guiding him away. “You've already got your prize Dee, so let's bounce the fuck out of here. I'll make us a late night snack at the penthouse.”

Damian scowled and shot Tim one last dirty look before he turned to follow Jason, jogging to keep up with his much longer legs as they walked. “Apple crumble and vanilla ice cream?”

“Sure. You got it,” Jason agreed, but his attention was fixed on Dick, shooting him an 'I'll be watching you' stare before turning away.

Damian snorted but said, “Fine, let us depart,” and Tim and Dick watched their interaction with open interest as the boy and his bodyguard walked over to a powerful-looking motorcycle that Dick had admired when they'd walked passed it in the parking lot.

“You want my jacket? It's pretty cold,” Jason asked, but didn't wait for an answer before he took off the garment and dropped it around Damian's shoulders where they nearly drowned the kid in leather, it was so large.

Damian wrinkled his nose. “It smells like cigarettes,” he complained.

Jason's hand moved to take it back. “If you don't want it—”

“Mine.” Damian hugged the jacket around him possessively, with a pout that made him look even younger than he probably was. He burrowed his face into the leather of the collar before making a face. “Ugh. Todd, do you ever wash this thing?”

Jason smiled, rolled his eyes and ruffled Damian's hair while the boy tried to shove his hand away, and Dick felt his knees go weak as he stared very unprofessionally at the man's broad back, covered by a loose red flannel over a gray shirt and snug shoulder holsters built for concealed carry from the way they seemed to disappear into the lines of his body.

“Shut up,” Jason said with amusement in his voice as he put on a shiny red racing helmet and passed Damian a smaller, similar one. “You've never washed a thing in your damn life, Dee, you just have the maids do it. Besides, you don't wash leather, brat. You dry clean it.”

Damian snorted and accepted the helmet, tugging it in place with a practiced motion. “Since I have never once seen you enter a dry-cleaning establishment, then I suppose I know the answer to that question.”

Jason laughed as they both got on the bike, bright and genuine sounding, and he turned the key and revved the engine before roaring away out of sight.

Suddenly Dick was aware that he had pretty much been drooling over himself for the last few minutes, watching an admittedly blisteringly hot, but obviously dangerous and armed man drive away with a minor. Tim and Damian clearly knew the guy, and both seemed comfortable in his presence, but Dick felt he still should have asked for more documentation or something. Or enforced the revelation of the documentation he did ask for.

Well, too late now. And he knew the man's name—or the alias he was using currently at least—that was enough to get him almost any other information he needed, back at Spyral.

Dick turned to Tim, who was suspiciously quiet. He found his brother considering Dick himself, the gears in his genius brain spinning over something he'd witnessed. “So, Tim,” Dick asked, “are you going to tell me what that was about?”

Tim didn't quite manage to be casual as he shrugged. “Nothing to tell. Damian is a hyper-competitive little ass who makes it his hobby to get on my last nerve. Jason is his bodyguard for everything outside of actual school. He's usually pretty nice, even if he's kind of paranoid. You really must have pressed his buttons because I've never seen him act like that before.”

Well, from what Dick had gathered, the man thought Dick was some kind of government agent who'd attached himself to Tim to stalk and harass a junior high schooler, so he figured the hostility from Jason was understandable.

“The kid really looks familiar to me, for some reason,” Dick admitted. “Has he been to one of Bruce's galas or something?”

Tim huffed. “No, thank God. I can't even imagine having to be civil to that brat for a whole night.” And neither could Dick, considering the two had only managed tonight for about five seconds before it all went downhill. “Maybe you've seen him in the news?” Tim suggested. “His family is pretty important in the Middle East, apparently.”

The Middle East, huh? If that was the case then Dick knew exactly who to go to for answers tomorrow. “What's his last name?”

“Al Ghul.” Understanding flooded Dick. He knew that name, it was attached with one of the largest and most successful criminal empires in the world, and Dick had run into them on more than one occasion. It explained a lot, from the boy's familiar appearance to why he had a bodyguard with a Quraqi diplomatic visa.

Tim eyed him knowingly. “So they really are important, then. Political, business or criminal sector?”

“I can't talk about sensitive intelligence, Tim.” It was the answer he had to give, but it wasn't enough to put off Tim, it never was.

“Hm. Criminal, then,” Tim deduced as Dick kept his face carefully blank. His younger brother gave a gallic shrug. “Well, despite how much he talks himself up, he's just a brat, nothing dangerous, and I wouldn't think you can get any information out of him, either. Clearly his mom sent him to the U.S. to keep him out of the business or something. Or people are really after him. Or both.”

“What? Of course not, Tim.” Dick said. “That's not even my department, I'm just...concerned.” As in concerned why a kid was in such danger than he had a guy like Jason Todd following him around.

Tim was unconvinced. “Sure. Now forget work for a moment while I get my award and rub it in 'Franklin Debauer the Third's dumb face.”

#Jason Todd #Red Hood #Dick grayson #Agent 37 #Nightwing #Tim Drake #Red Robin #Damian Al Ghul #Robin #No Capes AU #Spyral AU #Fanfiction #Batman #batfam #robincest #Alfred Pennyworth

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lfthinkerwrites · 5 years

Text

Meanwhile, back at Gotham Academy

Title: Tales from Gotham Academy: Field Trip

Fandom: Batman

Rating: T

Summary: Jason and Roy push Lyle Bolton past the point of no return...

AO3 Link

Meanwhile, back at Gotham Academy

Edward would have been happy to know that for the preceding hour and a half, Penelope had been fending off the Sirens' questions about their dating life. Unfortunately, the more wine she drank, the looser her tongue became, just as their friends intended.

"I have to ask," Pamela said. "What exactly do you see in that man? You could do much better."

Penelope poured herself more wine and gulped before answering. "You don't give him nearly enough credit," she said. "As obnoxious as he can be here, he can also be a very sweet, considerate man."

(Said 'sweet and considerate' man was at that point in time ready to throw hands with Harvey in a cheap boat, but what she didn't know wouldn't hurt him.)

Pamela rolled her eyes. "Are you sure we're referring to the same Edward Nashton? He once deliberately tilted all the pictures in the art gallery on campus just because Gordon kept ignoring his riddles."

"Well, I never said he wasn't incorrigible at times," Penelope defended. "But he has his good moments too." She smiled a bit as she thought of them. "He's very supportive of my work inside and outside the campus. He takes being Ellen's full-time parent seriously. And no matter what else we might have going on, he almost always takes time out of his day to spend time with me."

"Well of course he does," Pamela drawled. "He's getting something out of those visits, isn't he?"

Penelope arched an eyebrow. "What do you mean?"

Selina snorted a bit. "Come on, Doc. You haven't heard the rumors going around school about yours and Eddie's...visits?"

Penelope flushed when she realized the implication, then she scowled. "Honestly. That was one time. Superintendent al Ghul was on the warpath and I thought there was a very good chance of him being transferred out. Nothing like that has happened since."

Pamela finished her wine, then gave Penelope a critical look. "So you mean to tell us that when Nashton sneaks off with you for your little trysts, nothing actually happens?"

"Nothing like that, no," Penelope said. "Most of the time, he just-" Penelope stopped, flushing a bit.

"He what?" Selina asked.

Penelope took another sip, then put her glass down. "Most of the time, he just wants a hug."

Pamela threw her head back and laughed, Selina and Harley joining in with their giggles while Kristen checked her phone for updates about the trip. "Aww," Harley cooed, wiping her eyes. "That's adorable!"

Penelope meanwhile crossed her arms and fixed her colleagues with a glare. "I shouldn't have said anything. Did you three invite me here just to get blackmail material on Edward?"

"Relax, Doc," Selina said. "No one's going to blackmail anyone. We're just having a bit of a fun, right girls?"

"Right-a-roonie!" Harley said, giving a thumbs up.

"Speak for yourself," Pamela said with a smirk.

Penelope rolled her eyes. "Anyway, enough about my love life." She nodded at Harley. "Weren't you telling me that you were going on a date with someone you met online last week?"

Harley cringed. "Oh yeah. Floyd. Our date didn't wind up happenin'."

Selina raised an eyebrow. "He wasn't catfishing you, was he?"

"Nah," Harley said, twirling the end of her pigtail. "Nothin' like that. So we met up at the restaurant, and he was just as hot as his profile said, but just when we ordered drinks, the FBI raided the place and arrested him for murder. He took out like three agents with the wine bottle and a dinner fork before they slapped the cuffs on him." Harley took a long swig of her wine while the other women looked at each other. "I think I'm gonna take a break from men for a bit.'

"A good idea," Pamela said.

A buzzing noise came simultaneously from Kristen and Penelope's phones. Both women looked down, read the text messages, and cringed.

"What?" Selina asked.

"Karlo caused an accident on a boat ride," Kristen explained. "He rammed his boat against Neil's and caused a collision with Vice Principal Gordon's and Bruce Wayne's boat."

"Is everybody okay?" Harley asked.

"No one's hurt," Kristen said.

"Except for Karlo," Penelope interjected. "Edward just told me that he and the other teachers decided to teach Karlo a lesson about endangering the students."

Kristen nodded. "Karlo's been taken away by an ambulance, and the police were called. Needless to say, he won't be coming back to Gotham Academy."

"Sheesh," Harley said, shaking her head. "That's the third drama teacher Neil's helped drive off in six months! I wonder who the next one will be?"

Selina meanwhile, just sighed. "I warned Bruce not to go along on the trip," she said. "But did he listen? No. That man's too stubborn and noble for his own good." She smirked. "Oh well, I'll just have to help make it up for him later, as I'm sure you are with Eddie, right Doc?"

Penelope just flushed again.

Meanwhile, in Detention, Lyle Bolton was sitting at his desk with his fists clenched and his teeth grinding. "Just an hour to go, you little shits," he managed to hiss out at the three boys sitting at the desks in front of him. "I can handle anything you little punks dish out!"

Jason just pulled a straw out of his pocket, ripped a small hole at the bottom, and blew the wrapper in Bolton's direction. It landed on the desk, much to the delight of the other boys. "Nice shot, Jay!" Roy cheered.

"That does it!" Bolton shouted, standing up and pointing a meaty finger in Jason's direction. "You! Drop and give me fifty!"

Jason rolled his eyes, then did as Coach demanded. While he was doing this, Roy took advantage of Bolton's distraction to shoot a rubber band at the side of the coach's head. On impact, Bolton's head snapped towards Roy.

"You should have aimed it at his ass," Lonnie said.

"He has to have an ass to aim at," Roy quipped.

"You!" Bolton screamed, his face magenta. "Drop and give me fifty!"

"Who?" Roy asked. "Me or Lonnie?"

"Both of you!" Bolton screeched, spittle flying everywhere.

Roy dropped down, but not before giving Lonnie a wink. Lonnie grinned, then stubbornly folded his arms across his chest. "This is a violation of this school's rules against corporal punishment! If you try to force me to do push-ups, I'll have the ACLU out here so fast-"

"You'll what, little boy?" Bolton demanded, walking towards Lonnie. "You'll get Mommy and Daddy to call you a big expensive lawyer? You think that scares me, little boy?" While Bolton was busy trying and failing to intimidate Lonnie, Jason had finished his push-ups and silently made his way to Bolton's chair. He pulled a thumbtack out of his pocket and placed it on the chair, then rushed back to his desk before Bolton could turn around and notice him. Luckily, Bolton was too busy screaming to pay much attention to his surroundings. "So do your FUCKING PUSH-UPS!!!" He bellowed in Lonnie's face.

Lonnie merely looked up and said, "No."

Bolton bellowed again with rage and went back to his desk. "Non-compliance! I'm writing out another detention slip for you, Machin! Just wait until Principal Strange gets back! You're gonna get expelled if its the last thing I do!" Bolton then took a seat, directly on top of the thumbtack. He got up again with a yelp of pain, both of his hands going to his rear. "Jesus Christ! My ass! What did you punks do!?"

"What do you, he does have an ass," Roy said in between laughs. Bolton was too busy hopping up and down, trying in vain to pull the thumbtack out of his ass to do anything else.

"That's our cue, boys!" Jason yelled, getting out of his seat. "Go, go, go!" He, Roy, and Lonnie broke for the door and ran as fast as their legs could carry them. Coach Bolton's office was on the far side of the campus, but it wouldn't take long for them to get to the main door and freedom.

Bolton finally pulled out the thumbtack, then let out another cry of rage. "Oh no you don't, you punks!" He went to the wall, next to the class phone and lifted a panel. Under the panel was a red button that was connected to the school's security system. Every classroom had one since they'd been installed two years ago, but no one had ever used it. Until now. "This school's goin' on LOCKDOWN!!!" Bolton screamed. Then he pressed the button. A loud, siren-like sound filled the school, and every single door was locked. Bolton laughed. Finally, he was going to get back what was his.

When the siren sounded, Harley dropped her drink in surprise. "Jeez Louise!" she shouted. She checked the bunsen burner. "Did I set off the smoke detector or somethin'?"

"That's not the fire alarm," Kristen said, her hazel eyes widening. "That's the lockdown alarm!"

"The lockdown alarm?" Selina asked. "There's what, maybe twenty kids here at most? Why the Hell are we doing a lockdown drill!? And why wouldn't Strange or Gordon tell us if we were!?"

Harley gulped. "You don't think somethin's actually happenin', do ya?"

As if it had heard her question, the PA crackled to life. "This is Coach Lyle Bolton," a deep voice sounded. "As you can see, Gotham Academy is on lockdown! And it's gonna stay on lockdown until Jason Todd, Roy Harper, and Lonnie Machin get their asses back to detention RIGHT FUCKING NOW!!!" Bolton hung up the PA, leaving the five women to look at each other.

"How did I know?" Pamela seethed. "How did I know Todd was going to pull some ridiculous stunt today!?"

"Well, speakin' as a mental health professional," Harley said. "I'd say that Bolton's the one that's gone cuckoo for cocoa puffs, right Penny?"

"Right," Penelope agreed. She brought a hand up to her face. "So much for avoiding shenanigans today. How do we stop this?"

"First things first," Pamela said. "We have to get out. That door's going to be locked electronically."

"I can fix that," Kristen said, stepping forward. "I've got the override code." Kristen went to the door's panel and punched in a six-digit code. The door unlocked, allowing the women to exit the chemistry lab.

"Alright," Selina said as soon as they were in the hallway. "We need a gameplan. Kristen, Penelope, you two track down any security guards who are still here and get to the principal's office to override the lockdown school-wide so we can get the kids out. Me, Red, and Harley are going to find Jason, Roy, and Machin before Bolton can get his hands on them. Make sense?" Kristen and Penelope nodded and made a left turn down the hallway, towards the offices of the security guards. Selina then nodded towards Pamela and Harley. "Ready girls?"

"Woop Woop!" Harley shouted., pumping her fists in the air. "The Gotham Academy Sirens are on the case! Let's roll!"

#high school teacher au #the sirens #finally something happens

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flourchildwrites · 5 years

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A/N: Thanks, @bearonthecouch ! For you, on (or around) your birthday, I’ll be more than happy to stray from the royai path and write some hyuroi! Let’s see… 19 (summer camp AU) and 59 (interrupted declaration of love). I could, you know, follow the instructions on this and just describe how I’d combine them. Or I could actually write it. We both know I like to overcommit.

Happy (belated) Birthday Bear! Wishing you all the best in the coming year and many happy returns.

Read on AO3

Signing up as a Lake Shambala summer camp counselor had been a no brainer for 19-year-old Roy Mustang. Free room and board. An entire six weeks away from the hustle and bustle of Central City. Rubbing elbows with the privileged offspring of Amestris’s most prominent citizens. It was an undeniably sweet gig for a kid who grew up changing out the taps behind his aunt’s bar during his semester breaks.

And while the transition to camp life was not without its share of mosquito bite bumps and hiking-related bruises, Roy found he enjoyed the outdoors more with each passing day. At 6:02 a.m. on the dot, Roy lumbered out of bed and jammed his feet into an old pair of running shoes that, he suspected, smelled worse than they looked. With a bleary-eyed glance in the mirror, Roy slipped on a weather-beaten cap over his tousled dark hair. He never expected to become an aficionado of morning runs through the camp’s dewy nature trails, but then Roy never expected to meet someone like Maes Hughes.

Maes wasn’t like the other camp counselors. Though certainly from Central City’s upper crust, there wasn't a condescending bone in his tall, athletic body. He laughed gregariously when Roy recalled his foolhardy antics from his first year of college, and the allure of his sharp tongue was only matched by the insightful gaze emanating from his bright, amber eyes. Idealistic Roy Mustang, smart and scrappy public school scum, a lauded ladies man (or so they said), was utterly smitten from the word “hello.”

Like clockwork, Maes emerged from the neighboring cabin and jaunted across the manicured lawn toward the counselor’s quarters of lucky cabin 13, Roy’s private lodging. From his open window, the dark-haired man watched Maes cross the green grass through a pair of heavy-lidded eyes that lingered over his friend's lean build. Roy smiled wryly as he imaged running his thumb across Maes’s scruffy jawline, passing a hand through his hopelessly spiky hair in pursuit of a good morning kiss. He could have done it that morning, should have done it every morning since he fell hard and fast for Maes, but for one tiny, insignificant detail: Maes had no idea how he felt.

Today was the day that would change.

Roy thrust open the screen door and bounded down the stairs with butterflies in his stomach and his heart on his sleeve. He readied himself to greet Maes with his trademark devil-may-care smirk and then sprint, shamelessly, down their usual jogging trail toward an arresting vista view of Lake Shambala. Roy glanced at his sports watched and made a mental note of the time, 6:13 a.m. In 22 minutes, the sun would rise over the horizon, reflected across the calm waters of the lake in a saturated splash of bright orange and rosy hues. They had just enough time to make it there for the big reveal, the moment when Roy would shed his carefully crafted persona and confess to feelings than ran deeper than friendship or brotherhood.

Roy had to know what it felt like to be held in Maes’s accepting embrace. He needed the constancy of his friend’s penetrating gaze and craved to be seen as something other than a smart boy from the wrong side of the track by the only person within about 100 miles that could provide such validation. Roy Mustang wanted Maes Hughes, and if he couldn’t have him, at least he’d be consoled by the fact that he took his chance in the grandest, most romantic way possible.

“Mornin’ Roy,” Maes greeted, flashing his fellow counselor an immaculate set of pearly whites coupled with a sly wink. “How’s it hanging?”

“Ah, you know,” Roy responded scratching the base of his ballcap as he relished their flirty banter. “Better now that you’re here. Should we get to it?”

“Of course,” he answered, “but before we leave I’ve got to tell you something I’ve been meaning to mention for a while. I- I know it’s presumptuous of me but just... Can you keep an open mind?”

Roy’s pulse fluttered; his stomach turned. He approached Maes with a tender reverence that (he hoped) said the words that their professional relationship discouraged. “Of course, Maes. I’ve actually been meaning to talk to you too.”

“Oh good,” Maes laughed, seemingly relieved. “Then, I guess you know or realized something like this was happening. Hell, I’ve had inquiries from across the whole camp.”

“The whole camp knows?” Roy asked, unable to suppress the shock that flashed across his dark eyes.

Maes chuckled. “We haven't exactly been discreet. It was some of your kids, actually, that brought the issue to my attention, and after hearing them out, I sympathize with their concerns.”

“Concerns?” Roy echoed. His palms grew sweaty as he considered the implication of Maes’s words. He knew something like this might happen. Maes might not feel the same way as him; he might not be ready to dignify the furtive glances and languid touches of late. “The last thing I would ever want to do is make you feel uncomfortable.”

The furrowed brows on Maes’s forehead gave Roy pause. “I lead the campers around all day. Why would I feel uncomfortable taking them out for a sunrise run?”

Flabbergasted, Roy’s jaw nearly hit the ground. “A what?”

“They didn’t tell you?” Maes said with a tone of disbelief. “Some of the other students are joining us for our morning run from now until the end of the summer. What are you talking about?”

It wasn’t ideal. The dim, grassy lawn wasn’t majestic or moving in the slightest, but Maes had asked a question Roy couldn’t ignore. It was now or never, he resolved. Inwardly, Roy took a deep breath, summoned every last ounce of his courage and-

“Morning Counselor Bastard, Mr. Maes! Ready for our run?”

No, it couldn’t be.

Roy pivoted in a state of disbelieving rage to find the slight silhouette of his most challenging camper, then wide awake at an hour when Roy had never seen him so much as twitch in his sleep. Yes, there stood a blonde boy who, despite his small stature and above-average intelligence, had given him hell since the moment Roy informed him that the bunk assignments were nonnegotiable, and he couldn't move to the same cabin as his brother.

“Morning Edward!” Maes greeted cheerfully. “Do you have your running shoes on?”

“Sure thing,” the young boy replied with an offhand gesture toward his squeaky clean cross-trainers. “We’re just waiting on Al, Paninya and Winry. It sure would have been easier to coordinate if we had been placed in the same cabin. Don’t you think Mr. Mustang?”

Roy sneered through a set of gritted teeth, not trusting himself to utter a word for fear of his well-paying employment. Though he remained uncharacteristically silent, the smirk on Edward Elric’s face spoke volumes, and Roy’s mind rewound the past week to determine the exact moment where he’d let his carefully crafted plans slip. Perhaps, it was the phone call he’d made to Riza a week ago or his letters home to Aunt Chris in which he’d all but pined over Maes like a lovesick pre-teen. Maybe, it was the countless handwritten drafts of the speech he planned to make to Maes which Roy had ultimately discarded in the communal trash can along with his research about the exact time the sun would rise. Either way, Roy knew he was fucked, and not at all in the way he had hoped.

And while his means remained elusive, Ed’s motive, smugly smeared across his annoying face came through loud and clear. It said: If I can't sleep where I want to, neither can you.

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

#fanfiction trope mash up #you ask i answer #Fullmetal Alchemist #fma #roy mustang #maes hughes #hyuroi #edward elric #bearonthecouch #a passing housewife fanfiction #flourchildwrites

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winryofresembool · 6 years

Text

EdWin ice skating AU chapter 6

A/N: This time the real chapter six! Picking up from where we were left in chapters 5 and 5.5 (that must sound so confusing if you haven’t read them). I’m sorry @kilmartin85, no chapter 5.75 for you xD This chapter is dedicated to you, as a thank you for your continuous support and love for the ice skating au. If it weren’t for your comments, I might have lost my inspiration already. Enjoy! (also see the notes at the end of this fic)

Previous chapters: 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 5.5

Next chapter: [x]

Words: 1050+ (I’m sorry, it’s a short one. But still pretty important)

Genre: How do you categorize two awkward teenagers/young adults being dumb?

No warnings

The two young adults just stood there awkwardly, long enough for Roy to start wanting to sort out this mess they (well, mainly Ed) had created. He bit his lip as he watched them stare at each other almost like two animals trying to decide whether to attack each other or not. Just when Roy was about to open his mouth to break the silence, Ed and Winry asked simultaneously:

“Can we talk?”

Winry laughed nervously at the awkward situation and answered first:

“That would probably be a good idea…”

“Yeah.” Ed rubbed his neck, a reaction that had already become familiar to Winry. “Mustang, could you… just go see Hawkeye or something?”

“Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do,” Roy warned playfully as he turned to leave, and Ed was close to literally kicking him out of the gym.

“Is there anything you haven’t done?” he snarled at the older man.

“Oh, there’s plenty. But I’m not feeling like sharing that information with you.”

“Asshole.” Ed shook his head after Roy finally left him and Winry alone.

“But you know, I still think he cares about you… in his own way. He wouldn’t have been here otherwise.” Winry stated knowingly.

“Hmm… I dunno about that,” Ed said reluctantly, not wanting to admit Winry was probably right. In reality, he was thankful to Roy for a lot of things, most importantly for the automail he had helped him get. But it would take a lot of coaxing to make him say that out loud.

“So…” Winry finally broke the awkward silence that had fallen between them again. “Should we maybe sit down for this?”

“OK,” Ed agreed and pointed towards the bench behind them. As they sat down, he couldn’t help but notice Winry was wearing her gym clothes, which did nothing to hide her good attributes, like her toned abs and nicely shaped legs. He felt warmth spreading towards his stomach and nearly bit his tongue to stop himself from reciting the periodic table out loud in front of her. Great. This was the last thing he needed right now that he was supposed to explain her why he had acted so weirdly…

“Would you like to explain what happened back in your room?” Winry asked with a half frustrated, half worried tone. Ed winced, looking like he wanted to run away from this situation and fast, but for once managed to control himself.

“I know you lied to me,” Winry continued. “You didn’t need to go anywhere, you just suddenly freaked out about something. Did I do something wrong?”

“No, no you didn’t!” Ed quickly reassured her. “What happened… it’s complicated…”

“I don’t care how complicated it is, I want to know why you act flirty one moment and give me a cold shoulder the next.” Winry’s voice was calm, but Ed could tell she was getting frustrated.

“I… didn’t! Ugh.” Ed shifted slightly so he didn’t have to look at her. “I didn’t try to flirt with you.”

It was half the truth, he had never intended to sound flirty. Ed thanked his gods Mustang wasn’t nearby anymore because he had a lot of stories about Ed’s ‘flirty’ side, usually involving getting drunk and pretty girls he wouldn’t have looked at twice, had they passed him on the streets of Central in the middle of the day. The truth was that Ed had never been particularly interested in starting a romantic relationship with anyone… but for some reason after meeting Winry he had considered the option of starting one with her more than once. She was determined and ambitious, she gave him an impression of a smart, independent, strong(willed) woman who knew what she wanted to do with her life, and she was fun and easy to talk to… And she loved automail. Besides, the looks definitely didn’t hurt. She was quite a sight on the ice…

Ed quickly pushed that thought away.

“Listen, I’m sorry if I gave you that impression. You seem like a genuinely great person, and maybe in some other situation… But I have a lot in my head right now. I’m sorry,” he added quietly when he saw Winry’s hurt expression.

“That still doesn’t explain your reaction earlier,” Winry said, more of a question than a statement.

“You see, when you were in my room…” Ed started, “I could see what happened to Al…”

“I heard about the incident from Riza,” Winry stopped him mid-sentence.

“Good. Then I don’t have to explain that part,” Ed sighed. “Yeah, I could see that scene in my mind again… and somehow I just knew then that this was a mistake.”

He left the part about seeing Winry in Al’s place out of his story on purpose.

“What was a mistake?” Winry asked, confused and angry.

“This. Us. Thinking that I could… I could ask you out. Off ice.” Ed’s cheeks burned fiercely as he admitted it had been his plan.

“So you were thinking about it after all,” Winry said bitterly, although one part of her was relieved and flattered to hear that he had paid attention to her after all.

“Fine, I was, but… it’s hard to explain!”

“It’s OK, you don’t have to.” Even the oblivious Ed could notice her voice telling him that it was anything but OK. “If you think this is such a mistake, then it’s probably better if we don’t see each other anymore. I was going to suggest we start with a clean slate but apparently that would be too much to ask. You know what,” she quickly stood up and turned her back to him. “I’ve changed my mind. I don’t want to use this gym anymore.”

“Winry, wait!” Ed was trying to yell after her, but she was already gone.

Great. This wasn’t what he had wanted. If she had stayed longer, he would have said he wanted to know her better as a friend, he wanted to explain her why this was so hard, hell, he almost wanted to say that he didn’t believe in fate but there had to be a reason why they had met again so unexpectedly… But none of it mattered anymore. This time he had really done it. If they happened to run into each other again, she probably wouldn’t even want to look at him.

All this while his first Olympic game was getting closer and closer. He needed to get his thoughts sorted. That’s why he decided it was time to call home.

A/N: Sorry! Unfortunately the things aren’t quite solved yet but if there weren’t any problems, there wouldn’t be a fic either, right? And yes, Al is gonna join this fic sooner rather than later. Oh and this fic finally hit 10000+ words so hooray for that :’) It’s the longest thing I’ve ever written.

#edwin #edward elric #winry rockbell #fullmetal alchemist #ice skating au #my fics

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periwinklepandas · 6 years

Text

The Desk

Royai Smut Week Day 4: “Useless When Wet.”

Theme K: Oral

Rating: M

Pairing: Royai/Roy Mustang x Riza Hawkeye

Disclaimer: I don’t own Fullmetal Alchemist.

Word Count: 2,902

Title: The Desk

Description: Roy can’t seem to control to the constant traffic coming through his office. It doesn’t help that Riza is feeling extra frisky.

@royaismutweek

“Colonel, take off those ignitions gloves before you accidentally set the whole office on fire!”

Riza scolded the Flame Alchemist as she kissed his neck. They were in his office; her straddling him in his chair, topless and attacking his neck with succulent kisses. The others were out on various field missions, so the couple decided to make the best of their alone time.

“Don’t flatter yourself, Hawkeye.” Roy mumbled closing his eyes and relishing in the feeling of her hands stroking him through his pants.

“Is that really how you feel?” She challenged, ceasing her assault on his neck and looking down at him.

“Don’t be so sensitive,” He gave a charming smile and stroked her chin with his gloved hand. Her eyes soften briefly and she was just about to kiss his lips when they heard a knock on the door.

Riza’s arms flailed outwards and she clumsily fell backwards between his feet and the desk.

“Relax,” he chuckled, “The door is locked.”

He stood and walked over to the door just as the knocking continued. “Damn you Fullmetal.” He mumbled and looked behind him to see if Riza was decent again. Oddly, he found that she was nowhere in sight. Roy frowned and then shrugged, turning around and unlocking the door to let his newest state alchemist and his brother in.

“What are you doing here?” He asked walking back to the desk with the brothers in tow. “You’re supposed to be in Dagnus.”

“We finished early,” the shorter Elric shrugged. “Figured we’d report back and then we need to go home to Resembool to have Winry check my automail.”

Mustang nodded and flopped down in his seat. His eyes nearly bulged out of his head when he spotted his still topless Lieutenant huddled in the nook under the desk where his chair slid in. The desk sat directly on the floor, so it was impossible for the Elrics to see her from the other side, but just the slightest sound and they’d be caught.

“What were you thinking?” he tried to mentally send to her with a look of disapproval. She only shrugged and smiled sheepishly.

“I hope we weren’t interrupting anything,” Alphonse stated innocently, his large borrowed body sat awkwardly on the small couch across from the Colonel’s desk.

“Nothing too important.” Mustang shrugged and Riza frowned beneath him.

She loved him, but his arrogance drove her crazy sometimes. He liked to pretend that he was underestimating her sexually. And while she was confident in her sexiness, it was time to show him just how much she could drive him crazy.

It was time for a little payback.

“So did you track down any criminal leads in Dagnus?” Roy asked, scooting his chair in to box in the young blonde below him. He leaned forward and rested his chin on his laced hands.

Edward snorted, “A complete waste of a train ride and our time, Colonel. It was a dead-end lead.”

“Hmm…” Mustang smirked, considering the younger boy’s words. “That’s unfortunate because—“He lost his words in the feeling of a pair of smooth hands reaching into his waistband and grabbing his dick.

Riza wrapped her fingers around him and began to pump up and down slowly. She was able to quietly twist her body so that she was supported on her knees, facing his crotch.

“Because what, Colonel?” Alphonse’s absent voice asked curiously.

“Uhh…B-because we’d—gotten a lot of reports of s-s-suspicious activity from that area,” The colonel had to stutter through his words because of the woman’s actions below. She was running her hand up his shaft and over the head, running her thumb across the beading precum on the head, before sliding back down. He was happy she was unable to reach his balls, or they’d be in big trouble!

“Whatever,” Edward huffed, “Do us a favor and stop sending us on pointless busy work cases. We need to focus on getting our bodies back!”

“You’ll do as told Fullmetal!” Roy barked out, pointing his finger at the defiant boy, “You took an oath to this military.”

The eldest Elric rolled his eyes and waved off the colonel’s words, standing up and signally for Alphonse to follow him. “C’mon Al, let’s go see Winry and Granny.”

The Elrics exited his office, and Roy leaned back to scold his subordinate on her reckless (but skillful) actions, when another figure walked in excitedly.

“Greetings Elric Brother’s, Gracia wants to see you two again for dinner soon!” It was Lt. Colonel Maes Hughes.

“Hey there Roy! I was hoping I’d catch you in the office.” Hughes grinned and walked over to Roy’s desk. Unlike the Elrics, Maes walked right over to the Colonel’s desk and leaned over it.

Roy met him halfway, leaning forward again to block his compromising view. “What do you want Hughes? I don’t have time to watch you ogle over pictures of your wife and daughter. I’m busy!” He choked out the last work when he felt Riza add her other hand to his shaft.

“Sheesh, somebody’s testy today. I actually had these forms for you to look over. Something big is going down in Central. They’re looking at some major changes in staff. A lot of transfers I hear.” His friend told him with a wink.

Roy took the papers in his hand and struggled to concentrate on them and keep his breathing steady.

“I’ve never known you to be asthmatic Roy,” Hughes stated curiously.

“What are you talking about?” Roy asked him gruffly. Riza chuckled silently under the desk, rolling his erection in her palms. She was enjoying this game, but she was far from finished.

“You’re breathing really hard. Should I call a medic?” Hughes chuckled, half-serious.

“No, I’m fine. It’s just... warm in here.” Roy groaned, running his hand through his hair. He reached down with the other hand and tried to push Riza away from him, but instead she took one of his fingers in her mouth and sucked on it swiftly. The Colonel let out a low moan, earning a questioning look from the Lt. Colonel.

“If you say so…” Hughes shrugged, “Oh, yeah and before I go…”

“Hurry it up Hughes…” Roy gave a desperate warning, coughing as the lieutenant added more pressure to his member.

“Elicia took pre-birthday pictures!” Hughes exclaimed skillfully producing a set of photo proofs and tossing them on the Colonel’s desk. Riza had to bury her face in Roy’s thigh to surpass her laughter.

“How sweet,” Roy breathed out sarcastically. “Now leave… now!”

“I’ll be back for those documents later.” Maes gathered his pictures and headed towards the door. “Get something for that cough!”

When the door closed, Roy pushed his rolling chair back and scowled at Riza. He pried her hands from around him and tried to pull her out. “Are you crazy? Do you want us to get caught?”

Riza laughed and smirked at him, “You shouldn’t have insulted me, Colonel. Though I hate I missed an opportunity to see Elicia’s birthday pictures.” She pulled away from him and took him in her hands again.

“Whatever, you’ve had your fun now get up before—“his words were halted and he pushed the topless lieutenant back under the desk as his door swung open.

“Mustang!” The unpleasant tone came from Major General Hakuro as he stormed into Roy’s office.

Roy let out a groan. He didn’t need Hakuro’s jealous antics right now, not with the lieutenant resuming her motions on his dick.

“What’s taking you so long to look over those documents Hughes brought,” Haruko demanded, standing at attention and frowning down at Roy.

“He literally just brought them.” Roy sighed, relishing in the feelings shooting through his groin. “I’ll bring them to you as soon as I’m finished.”

“You’re expected in the meeting this afternoon; bring them then.” Hakuro snorted, “I just don’t get it.”

“Get what?” Roy asked slightly disinterested.

“How you’re always able to get ahead so rapidly. The General favors you, for whatever reason.” Hakuro accused, leering at Roy as if he was expecting an actual answer.

“Maybe it’s because I’m so—oh—woah! Dammit Hawkeye!” Roy exclaimed midsentence, clenching his teeth and gripping the edge of his wooden desk.

“Hawkeye?” General Hakuro snorted, looking around the room. “What in the hell are you talking about. The lieutenant’s not even here!”

No, General Hakuro couldn’t see Riza at the moment, and it was a good thing because she was currently underneath her commanding officer’s desk, running her wet tongue up the length of his cock.

“Are you insane!” Roy gritted out, bringing his hands under the table to stop her.

“Am I insane?” General Hakuro frowned deeper, “Are you? You’re the one that isn’t making any sense.”

There was a knock at the door and Roy peered past Hakuro’s shoulder to see the newly hired Sheska giving him a short wave.

“Sorry to interrupt Colonel, but I found those records you were wanting.” The bespectacled women walked over and sat an old records book on his desk.

“Th—thank you Sh-sh-Sheska,” Roy stuttered, pushing his palm against Riza’s forehead under the desk to stop her from licking him.

“What are you doing with your hands, Mustang?” Hakuro accused, craning his head over the desk to try and see why the Colonel was fidgeting so much.

Roy swiftly pulled his hands up and slammed them on his table. “Nothing, everything is f-fiiiiiiii—Fine!”

Riza had decided at that moment to kick it up a notch, angling him slightly towards her face and taking him in her mouth; sucking the head of his dick first and running her tongue across the slit.

“Fuck…” he breathed out dropping his head down.

“Do you need a glass of water, sir?’ Sheska asked quietly, concern heavy in her eyes.

“Nope,” Roy squinted his eyes and mustered up his best faux-smile. “Thank you for those records, Sheska. You are dismissssssssed.” He’d have to seriously punish his loyal lieutenant after this one. She was sexy when she was bold, but this was downright suicide.

Above him General Hakuro watched in disgust as Roy panted and groaned at his table. He was never a fan of the young colonel and his relationship with East City’s highest ranking general.

“If you’re finished, Major General, I’d like to have my privacy now.”

Haruko huffed and turned on his heels to leave, just as a certain black and white puppy pranced into the office with a bark.

“You should tell your lieutenant that pets aren’t allowed on the premises.” Haruko spat out, frowning at Black Hayate.

The dog barked and padded across the room, sniffing the floor; on the familiar trail of his hidden owner.

Riza intensified her blowjob, taking him deeper into her mouth and down her through; bobbing her head up and down, hoping to make him climax.

She heard Roy gasps loudly, and she thought maybe it was from the head she was performing on him, until she heard him belt out a name.

“General Grumman! What a surprise!”

“Colonel Mustang. How is this beautiful day treating you?” Grumman exclaimed, walking in examining the room.

“Go-good, Sir.” Roy choked out, praying that the arrival of their commanding officer and Riza’s grandfather was enough to prove to her that the fun was over.

It didn’t.

Instead, Riza’s mouth pumped harder around him; the head of his cock hitting the back of her throat, but she was an expert and wouldn’t make a single gagging sound. For that Roy was grateful. When Riza brought one hand up to stroke him as she sucked him off, Roy brought one hand of his own down and weaved his fingers through her scalp, gripping tightly and moving her head against him.

“Ingrate!” Hakuro spat from the threshold of the office door. “That’s your commanding officer! Stand and salute!”

“I—uhhh—C-cant’s sir.” Roy was fighting to keep his eyes open and fighting even harder in an attempt not to cum in her mouth while her maternal grandfather paced his office.

“Its fine Mustang, I was just dropping by to see if you’d put anymore consideration on that offer I’ve been proposing for years now?”

The offer to marry his granddaughter.

Roy wanted to tell his commanding officer that marrying Riza should be the least of the General’s worry. They’d been having sex in his office for a while now, so obviously marriage was the next step right?

“Haaa—How about we discuss this in a more private setting, General?” Roy heaved, as the Lieutenant, expertly sucked him while running her tongue around his tip. He was having a hard time composing himself as it was, but now that his cock was touching the softness of her throat he wasn’t sure how much longer he could keep up their cover.

Grumman threw a look back at the nosy General Hakuro, who was still lingering at the door. Roy certainly didn’t need the envious general in his private business when it came to his relationship with their boss’s granddaughter; but Hakuro wasn’t the only pair of ears in the room that Roy didn’t want eavesdropping on that conversation.

“Certainly.” General Grumman nodded. “I’ll see you tonight at the meeting, Colonel.”

Roy grunted as his free hand gripped the desk and the other pulled at Riza’s hair. He was close to losing it and he desperately needed their company to leave.

“Uhh….yea—yes, Sir.”

Black Hayate gave a bark as he sniffed around the desk in search for his owner’s scent.

“It’s odd seeing that pooch without its owner close behind.” Grumman mused, eyeing the small dog. “Where is Lieutenant Hawkeye, Colonel?”

Roy gave out a hiss as the vibrations of a laughing Riza moved up his length. “Assssss—assignment, Sir. She’s out on assignment.”

“That’s interesting. I’ve never known her to take on any assignments that didn’t involve you.” Grumman grinned. “Are you okay, Colonel. You seem flustered.”

Roy couldn’t respond. He only waved his hand as a gesture to say that he was alright.

Black Hayate followed his nose around the office and barked excitedly when he spotted Riza under the desk.

“What’s he barking at?” Grumman furrowed his brow, walking around to the side of the desk.

“Agh!” Roy exclaimed untangling his and from Riza’s hair and pushing the dog away from them with his foot. “He probably just smells the leftover lunch in my trashcan, Sir!”

“Hmm…” Grumman stroked his wild mustache in consideration. He shrugged his shoulders and then turned to follow Hakuro out of the office, closing the door behind him.

“Goddammit, Hawkeye. Are you crazy?” Roy exclaimed, standing forcefully, causing his rock-hard cock to slide out of her mouth.

Riza laughed, crawling from underneath the desk, but staying on her knees at the foot of his chair. “That was priceless.”

Roy returned to the chair and flopped down, exasperated; his dick still standing straight in the air. He ran his hands over his face and exhaled, swaying slowly side to side in the chair.

With a mischievous glint, Riza took him in her hands again and into her mouth. She bobbed furiously, pumping him with her hands too.

Roy moaned deeply. Desperate to release the pent up pressure that had been building for the past ten-minutes of her sucking him, he began to thrust his hips up slightly, and his palm found its way to the back of her head again, guiding her up and down, until finally he was ready.

“I’m—fuck, Reez, I’m about to—“He wanted to warn her, before he just rudely spilled in her mouth, but the words kept losing him. Not that Riza needed them to understand; nor did she intend on taking him out of her mouth until he was finished and she was swallowing every drop of him.

She heard him let out a labored “Argh” and his hand pressed her down further on to his cock, so that his cum shot down her throat and she was finally forced to gag a little.

When he was finished he let out a deep content sigh and tossed his head back so that it dangled past the chair’s back.

“That was amazing, Reez.” He breathed out happily, running his hands down her jaw. His eyes were closed and he was smiling weakly.

“MmmHmm.” Riza hummed wiping the corners of her mouth on a tissue from his desk. She stood up from the floor finally and redressed in her turtleneck and overcoat. “Come, Hayate.” She called to the little Shiba, and made her way to the door.

“Wait Lieutenant.” Roy called out to her. Riza turned her head and regarded him nonchalantly.

His face formed into a cocky grin and he asked her huskily, “Don’t you want me to return the favor? I can make you feel good with my tongue too.”

The offer was tempting; very tempting. It sent a jolt of electricity between Riza’s thighs, and she considered accepting.

But in the game of tit-for-tat, sacrifices must be made.

She turned her face back around and opened the door to leave. Waving lazily back at him, she called out to him before leaving.

“Don’t flatter yourself, Colonel.”

Thanks for reading! If you like it “like it”, reblog it, comment!

#royaismut18 #day 4 #theme k #royaismutweek #royaismut #royai #royainsfw #roy x riza #roy mustang #riza hawkeye #fullmetal alchemist brotherhood #smut #fmabsmut #fullmetal alchemist #fma #fmab #royai smut

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just-absolutely-super · 6 years

Text

Of Dreams and Other Lives

AN: So this is what happens when you cry about FMA 03 Edwin while having some weird fascination with a character having insight into their AU self’s life. (If that makes any sense...)

Anyways, this fic is Winry-centric with a good dose of Edwin fluff, and while it takes place in the canonverse (the manga and FMA:B), I do dwell a little bit into 03′s continuity. So, spoilers I guess for FMA 03 and COS.

Anyways, hope you all enjoy it!

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Summary: They say your dreams are visions of a another life you are living. Winry experiences a heartbreaking one.

Timeline: Post Series

Ship: Edwin with some Resembool Trio Brot3 goodness

FF.NET LINK

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“I guess this is goodbye for good...”

Winry groans as she rouses from her sleep, feeling more tired than she did when she fell asleep that night.

She had a very strange dream. She doesn’t really remember it though. She remembers Edward and Alphonse were in the dream, but as for what they were doing she couldn’t say. Whatever it was, the dream left her feeling extremely tired.

And extremely sad, too…

Winry frowns at that. Why would she be sad? She recalls some dreams she’s had in the past where the boys never came home, but the feeling she had upon waking from those was more nervous rather than sad.

She shrugs. It’s just a dream. She doesn’t remember it anyway, so why bother dwelling on it?

Yawning, Winry rolls out of bed and trudges her way down the stairs and into the kitchen. There, she is met with the sight of her two best friends, the Elric Brothers. Alphonse (who finally managed to get his body back to a healthy state since the Promise Day) has his back to her while he fixes breakfast. His older brother Edward sits at the table, drinking coffee and reading the morning paper. She can’t help but smile at the domestic sight.

Al doesn’t bother sparing her a glance as he cheerfully says to her, “Good morning, Winry! Granny had to make a house call to Mr. Kline. His wife rushed in here saying his legs gave out while he was working in the field. She’ll be back soon, though.”

Winry nods, knowing full well whom her grandmother’s client is. Apparently the old farmer Mr. Kline is just as bad at keeping up with his automail maintenance as Ed is.

Speaking of Ed, the former alchemist glances up from his paper to smile at his mechanic, causing butterflies to flutter in Winry’s stomach. Edward really has grown into a handsome man over the past few years.

“Morning Win—GAAAH!”

Winry jumps at Ed’s outburst. One moment he’s smiling at her and then the next he’s practically jumping out of his chair, staring at her with a panicked look.

“Wh-What’s the matter with you?” Winry asks him.

“Yeah, Brother, why are you—Winry?! What’s the matter?!” Al asks her, moving from his spot at the stove to join his older brother in gawking at her. He too has a look on his face that told Winry he was shocked and worried.

Winry stares dumbfounded at the two boys, “What are you talking about? I’m fine.”

“Bullshit!” Ed spats, pointing an accusing finger at her, “You’ve been crying! What’s wrong?”

Winry blinks in confusion. Crying? She hadn’t been crying. What are they—?

Raising a hand up to her face, Winry touches her cheeks. She feels some moisture. Moving to a mirror that hangs on one of the walls, Winry examines her face. Sure enough there are tear tracks that were just now drying. Her eyes are bloodshot as well, making the blue of her irises stand out.

She had been crying. But for the life of her she doesn’t know why.

She turns back to her two best friends and shrugs, “I guess I was crying. I don’t know why though.”

Edward raises an eyebrow at her and shares a confused look with his brother at the girl’s confession. They turn back to her and examine her face, probably to make sure she isn’t lying to them or anything.

“You’re absolutely sure nothing’s wrong?” Ed asks skeptically.

“Yeah, Winry, if anything is bothering you, you know you can talk to us. We’re always here for you,” Al comforts, giving the girl a small smile.

Winry beams at the boys, “Thank you for your concern, but I really am okay. I had a weird dream last night, and even though I don’t remember it, I do remember being sad in it. I probably subconsciously cried in my sleep.”

She laughs it off, though the fact that she did cry in her sleep left her feeling uneasy. She wishes she knew what that dream was about now. It must’ve been bad if it left her feeling emotionally compromised to the point of tears.

She feels a pair of comforting arms around her. She looks up to see Alphonse. “Well, I’m glad you’re okay. Whatever it was, it was just a dream. They aren’t real.”

Winry smiles at the younger boy and nods, “Yeah, of course. Thanks, Al.”

“You’re welcome!” Al removes himself from her side before shoving Edward towards her, “You’re glad she’s okay too, right Brother?”

Ed glares at the sly look Al is giving him, a bright blush on his cheeks. Coughing awkwardly, Ed faces Winry, his gaze avoiding hers, “Y-Yeah. It’s good you aren’t really sad or anything like that.”

Winry gives the older Elric a small but genuine smile. He is still very awkward when it comes to his feelings for her, but Winry knows he’s trying and really does care about her.

To her surprise, Edward quickly gathers her in his arms. The hug is so tight that her breath gets momentarily knocked out of her. Her cheeks flush as she feels his hot breath in her ear.

“But if you ever get sad again, don’t play that cool act. You come talk to me, okay? Al too. Or Granny. Hell, even Den would be a good option.” He sincerely says. His hold on her loosens enough for the girl to breathe, but thankfully he doesn’t let go. Winry melts into the embrace, wrapping her arms around him to return the hug.

“I will. Don’t worry. Thank you.”

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Winry’s eyes snap open as she gasps out.

She quickly gets out of her bed and turns on the bedside lamp. She’s trembling, tears profusely falling from her eyes as she gasps out heartbroken sobs.

It was that dream again.

She hasn’t had it for months and barely remembers it, but she just knew that’s what it was.

She wasn’t sure what was going on in the dream. It looked like Amestris, but at the same time it didn’t—like she was in a whole different world altogether.

She had been standing in a city, but it wasn’t a city she was familiar with. She remembered Al in the dream, but he didn’t really look like Al. He was younger, and his hair was a darker shade of blonde than what it should be—almost brown. It was longer too, similar to Ed’s. She recalled Roy Mustang being in the dream too, but the details of his role were fuzzy at best.

But she does remember Edward in the dream, almost to a horrifying degree with how clear it was.

He had crashed to the ground in some kind of machine Winry wasn’t familiar with. He was fine, if not a little beat up. She recalled hugging him in the dream, but it wasn’t a hug she would have normally given him.

She had held him tightly, almost as if she hadn’t seen him in a very long time. Like if she let go at that very moment, he’d disappear.

He seemed to be different too. He looked like Edward, sure, but his eyes were different. Still gold in color, but they looked colder and more distant—like he was constantly putting up walls to protect himself. He also still had an automail arm instead of the flesh one he gained back after the Promise Day.

That was another thing that was off: his automail. It was badly broken in the dream. She couldn’t find any humor that dream Ed is also reckless with his limbs because the automail he had didn’t even look like automail; at least, none she is used to handling. Winry had set to work to fix him up. She gave him new and better limbs.

This was where the dream gets fuzzier, but Winry knew what was happening all the same.

Ed had left to fight someone—who, Winry wasn’t sure—and the fight was taking place on an aircraft. Flying machines are something in the early stages of development according to Mr. Garfiel; so she’s surprised to find her subconscious showing her this contraption that shouldn’t even exist yet!

Something had happened because she saw the wing of the aircraft get torn apart. She wasn’t sure how, but she thinks it was with alchemy. Had Ed done that?

Wait, no, Ed doesn’t have his alchemy anymore. He gave it up for Al’s body. How did he…?

“That must be Ed, I know it.”

Winry’s eyes widen as she recalls her own voice echoing inside her head. The image of the aircraft was flying away into some unknown place far out of her reach.

She then remembers Mustang coming up to her in the dream and telling her that not only did Ed leave this world behind, but Alphonse did too, wanting to follow his brother.

They would never be able to come back…

“So, I guess this is goodbye for good.”

Winry gasps, sobs wracking her body. No. No, they can’t be gone forever. Edward can’t be gone forever. It was a dream. It was just a dream!

But it was so real…

It felt so real!

She runs out of her room and opens the door to one of the bedrooms that the Elric Brothers always reside in.

Empty.

‘No… No, it can’t be!’

Winry slides to the floor, her tears falling out of her eyes as she sobs. She’s shaking all over and it’s getting harder and harder to breathe. In the back of her mind, Winry knows she is suffering from a panic attack but she can’t care at the moment.

They are gone.

Edward and Alphonse are gone. They left her and they are never coming back!

“Winry!”

Winry is startled from her thoughts when she sees her grandmother. She has a candle in her hand to help her see in the dark, her face is contorted in worry.

“Winry, honey, what’s the matter? Why are you crying?” she asks as she sets the candle down and holds her granddaughter in her arms. The blonde feels a cold, wet nose nudging her side and the soothing lick of a wet tongue, indicating that Den has bounded over as well.

It takes a while for Winry to calm herself down enough to answer in between her sobs and hiccups, “E…Ed-Edward…! And Al! They….They’re gon-gone!”

Pinako strokes her hair and stares at her granddaughter in confusion, “Of course they’re gone, you silly thing. Don’t you remember? Al went out East to study that healing alchemy stuff. We got a letter from him yesterday. And Edward went to the West to do some studying of his own. They’ve been gone for a little over three months now.”

At her words, Winry finally comes back to reality. That’s right, Ed and Al did leave; but they didn’t leave to some unknown world Winry couldn’t get to. No, they just went to different countries to expand their alchemic knowledge.

They are just days away by train ride!

And they can return at any time!

This knowledge finally calms her down, though she is still shaken.

“I just… It just felt so real, Granny.”

Her grandmother raises an eyebrow at her, silently asking her to elaborate.

“I had a dream. They were there, but then I saw them leave. First it was Ed, and then I found out Al left too. The feelings I felt were so real I just woke up and wanted to see if they were really gone. If they were here then I’d know for sure the dream didn’t happen.”

Pinako nods at the girl and rubs soothing circles on her back.

“How about I make you some tea to calm your nerves. Then you can go back to sleep. Does that sound good?”

Winry nods, “Okay…”

Pinako goes downstairs to start the kettle in the kitchen, but Winry stays behind, still staring into the empty bedroom.

It is okay… The boys are okay…

But why is she still uneasy?

Taking a shaky breath, Winry forces herself to stand and makes her way down the stairs; Den rushing ahead of her once she sees her master is okay. She pauses when she spots the telephone out of the corner of her eye, a notepad next to it. A string of numbers is written and Winry recognizes them.

A few days ago, Ed called her from a house in Creta. He had befriended a professor who was kind enough to allow the young man to stay with him and his family. The man’s youngest son took a liking to Ed and decided to tease him about his affections for his mechanic. This led to the boy finding the phone number for the Rockbell home and calling Winry to get a rise out of the former Fullmetal Alchemist. One thing led to another and the boy gave Winry his house number.

“In case you wanted to talk to your booooooyfriend—” he teased before yelping in surprise.

“GIVE ME THE PHONE YOU LITTLE—” she heard Ed’s enraged scream before the line disconnected.

Winry smiles at the memory and thanks whoever is listening that she was given this phone number.

It’s late, and she’d probably feel bad about it in the morning, but she can’t care right now. She has to call him. She has to hear his voice.

She has to make sure he really is there.

Picking up the receiver, Winry dials the number listed on the notepad.

She waits one…two…three rings and thinks about hanging up. She doesn’t know what time it is over there but if it is as late as it is here, then she wouldn’t be surprised if nobody picks up—

“Hello?” comes an unknown voice, sleep evident in their tone.

It takes Winry a bit to process that someone indeed is answering the phone.

“Uh…ummm, I’m so sorry!” she begins, feeling very embarrassed, “I just…I was calling for Edward Elric. Is he still living there?”

She holds her breath. What is she thinking? Calling at this god-awful hour! And chances are Edward won’t be there. He probably left ages ago! He’s never one to stay still, why would he—

“Who is calling?” asks the voice.

Winry shakes her head of her thoughts, “M-My name is Winry Rockbell, sir. I’m a friend of his from Amestris.”

‘Friend? Really?’ Winry rolls her eyes, ‘Not like I promised him all my life to him or anything. Geez, Winry, get a grip!’

“Hang on. I’ll get him.” The man yawns on the other line and Winry hears the sound of the receiver being put down. She fidgets on the balls of her feet, now very aware of how silly she’s being. She just hopes Edward isn’t angry with her for the disruption.

“Hello?” comes the groggy and irritated voice of Edward Elric, “Winry? Professor Rodriguez said it was you calling. What in the name of Truth are you doing calling in the middle of the friggin’ night?”

Before Winry could explain, she feels her throat close up as more tears well up in her eyes. She can’t help it, hearing his voice had triggered something deep inside her.

He is there. He is there and talking to her. He didn’t leave forever!

“W-Winry?” now Ed’s voice sounds worried, “You there?”

“E-Ed!” Winry chokes out; a new wave of sobs wracking her body.

“Winry?! Winry, what’s wrong? Why are you crying? What’s the matter?” he frantically asks, “Is it Granny? Is she okay? What about Den? Oh god, please tell me it isn’t Al! Winry, please talk to me!”

“It’s fine!” she finally manages to say to him, “Everyone’s fine! I swear. I’m just…I’m just being really stupid right now.”

She hears him let out a sigh of relief before he softly commands, “Tell me what happened.”

So she does. She cries as she tells him of the dream (more like nightmare) where he and Al left her alone forever. It takes a bit of explaining because she keeps having a hard time composing herself, but she eventually finishes the retelling, feeling very emotionally drained.

“Wow. That’s one hell of a dream…” is what Ed finally says.

Winry nods, not caring that he can’t see her right now. “I know. It’s stupid. I’m sorry for waking you and your host.”

“Nah, don’t be. With this time zone stuff it’s not as late here as it is there. I actually wasn’t asleep for that long,” he reassures, but Winry knows he is just saying that to make her feel better.

There’s a brief silence between them, Winry reveling in the sound of Ed’s breathing before he speaks again.

“Tell you what,” he begins, piquing Winry’s curiosity, “my leg is starting to feel a bit off. I guess I’ve been pretty rough on it... How about I come home so you can do some maintenance on it? I’ll try to get on the earliest train I can find tomorrow.”

Winry feels an immense amount of guilt, “No, no! You just got settled, Edward! Don’t come back for my sake! I’ll be fine, I promise! Think of your research.”

She can’t see him but she knows he is rolling his eyes, “All this information isn’t going anywhere. I can always come back. Besides, it’s been three months yet I’ve learned so much already. Aren’t you the one always telling me to take care of my automail?”

Winry deflates, “Ed, you really don’t have to…”

“I know I don’t have to,” he says, “but I want to. I miss you.”

Winry feels her heart melt at his words. “I miss you, too.”

“Good. So I’ll see you in a few days, all right? Try to get some sleep. You can’t be the best automail engineer if you’re keeling over from exhaustion!”

Winry giggles. Somehow Ed always knows what to say to cheer her up. “Okay, I will. Thank you, Ed.”

“Don’t mention it,” he says. There’s a pause and Winry wonders if he had hung up. Then she hears his voice quietly but gently say, “I love you.”

Winry’s smile grows, cheeks pink as she feels more tears come to her eyes. This time they are tears of happiness.

“I love you, too. Be safe, I’ll see you in a few days.”

With that they hang up. Winry goes into the kitchen to find her Granny sitting at the table, Den resting at her feet. Across from her is a freshly made cup of tea just for the blonde.

“How is Edward?” she asks, a knowing look on her face.

Winry blushes, “He’s good. He’s coming home in a couple of days. For maintenance.”

“Right, mainentance,” Pinako chuckles, stirring her own cup of tea. She gives Winry a calculative glance before speaking again.

“You know, there have been old myths and legends that say that your dreams are visions of another life.”

Winry contemplates this piece of information as she sips her tea.

“I never believed it, though,” her grandmother waves off. “It just seems like something to ponder about…”

Winry absently nods, staring at her cup in deep thought.

‘Another life, huh?’

It is a farfetched notion, but as Ed and Al would tell her, “Nothing is impossible.”

“I wonder how she’s doing.” Winry says before she can stop herself.

“Who?”

“The other me. Or dream me, I guess?” Winry replies, not quite sure how to refer to the woman she had embodied in her subconscious, “Her Edward and Alphonse left her. I wonder what she did to recover. Do you even think she did recover?”

She watches as her grandmother mulls over her questions before taking a final sip of her tea and rising from her chair to put it away. Once the task is complete, she walks over to Winry to give her a peck on the crown of her head.

“Of course she’s okay. There’s no doubt in my mind about it.”

Winry gives her a questioning look, “How do you know?”

Pinako smiles at her, “Because, darling, she’s a Rockbell. Rockbell women are strong. You’re strong.”

For the umpteenth time tonight, Winry feels more tears gather in her eyes. Honestly, how many more tears does she have in her?

Wiping away any stray tears that escape her eyes, Winry gives her grandmother a fierce hug. The old woman returns it just as fiercely. When they part, Pinako gives a tired yawn.

“If you excuse me, I’m going back to bed. You should do the same after you finish your tea. You can sleep in this morning. I’ll handle your customers until you wake up.”

“Thank you, Granny. For everything.” Winry says, giving her grandmother a kiss on her cheek.

“You’re welcome.” With that, the old woman leaves Winry alone with her thoughts.

Staring at the remainder of her tea, she continues to mull over her dream. She can’t help herself, it really did feel like she was there and experiencing everything happening. The emotions she felt were certainly real. After all, they had carried on into the waking world.

And despite Pinako’s words, she still worries for her counterpart. Is she really okay?

Winry shakes her head and decides to push it out of her mind. What good is dwelling on something that ultimately doesn’t affect her in the first place?

Finishing her tea, Winry places the cup in the sink and calls for Den to accompany her back to her room. Once there, she curls up under her covers and feels her eyelids droop. She refuses to think about the dream or this “other life” nonsense. Instead, she thinks about Edward and how he would be coming home in a few days.

He is coming home to her.

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In another life, another universe, there is a different version of Winry Rockbell who experiences realistic dreams too.

In these dreams she sees Edward and Alphonse standing in front of her, smiling and laughing.

They aren’t gone. They’re with her.

Alphonse looks different than what she remembers. He looks to be the age he should have been had he not regressed those four years in the Gate. His hair color is also a lighter shade, matching his older brother’s.

She couldn’t hear what the dream Al was saying to her, but after giving her a brotherly side-hug he runs off back to the house—probably to help her Granny fix supper—and leaves her with Edward.

Looking at this Edward, she can tell he is happier and lighter here. Less burdened by the harshness of the world.

He has a flesh arm too, which she thinks is odd, but she can’t say she isn’t happy to see the lack of metal. She can’t see his left leg, though, for his long pants. Is it flesh too?

She hears herself say something to him (but again, she isn’t quite sure what it is), causing him to roll his eyes and childishly pout. She laughs at him, and is glad to see that he joins in laughing with her as well.

It’s then that the dream Edward moves towards her and pulls her into his embrace. He’s warm, and Winry feels safe. She can feel all the tension and worry leave her body.

“I love you, Gearhead.”

She smiles.

“I love you too, Alchemy Freak.”

She then finds herself inquiring, “You’ll always be here, right?”

She feels him nod against her shoulder.

“Of course. You, Al, and me; we’re a team. We’ll always be here for each other. That’s a promise!”

She melts in his embrace. “Promise…”

Winry’s eyes slide open, feeling content and happy. She always did after these particular dreams. That is, until reality kicks in and she’d feel that familiar emptiness again…

The first time she experienced them she felt such a crushing sadness at the fact the dreams were never reality. Edward and Alphonse aren’t here with her. They are having their own adventures in some other dimension she can’t access.

Her grandmother had once told her that dreams show a life another version of you is experiencing, but Winry isn’t so sure. That is such a fantastical concept.

But if it is real… That means there is a life she lives where Ed and Al came home whole and happy. And they never left.

She’s envious of that version’s Winry.

Sighing, Winry stretches and pulls herself out of bed, ready to start a new day.

No use dwelling on things that can’t be helped. What’s done is done. And she has an automail business to attend to.

Before she heads out the door, she spares one last glance to the framed photo of her two best friends. A bittersweet smile spreads across her pretty face.

“I hope the dream me never takes you two for granted.”

#edwin #edward elric #winry rockbell #fma #fmab #fma 03 #ish #kinda combines all canons #my writing #fanfiction

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elsinore-and-inverness · 7 years

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The Fourteenth Century

(Good Omens fanfic)

Chapter Seven: Evening. 1340.

A tavern in London was not one of Aziraphale's usual haunts, not that what he did could be considered haunting. But it was was where his inquiries after a man with ‘snakeskin shoes’ and yellow eyes had led him. He was afraid to find out how long Crowley had been there.

It smelled terrible. You’d think after over five millennia on Earth, Aziraphale would have gotten used to the olfactory bouquet of human inhabitation. But the horse muck tramped across the floor, the rotting food caught in the rushes spread across the floor and the smell of urine wafting in from where chamber pots had been emptied into the courtyard mingled with the tang of fermenting alcohol to assault his senses. The angel scanned the room. The walls were constructed of wood and waddle and daub and there was a small fire burning in a grate lined with stone. Dozens of intoxicated humans were crowded in a small grubby room. Absolutely all of it seemed like a terrible idea.

In the corner, hunched over the counter, nursing a mug of ale or possibly something stronger, scaly feet kicking at a concerning pile of empty bottles was a familiar face. Curtains of unwashed dark hair fell in front of his eyes, and his midnight-coloured cotehardie with trailing sleeves that might once have been called splendid was now worn and slightly tattered. Crowley had evidently been indulging his nervous habit of pulling the embroidery out of his clothing. Sometimes Aziraphale wondered if that was the reason he had anything embroidered in the first place.

‘Hello,’ the angel said, softly.

Crowley nearly toppled off of his stool. There was red in his eyes again, Aziraphale could see, but this time it looked a lot more like a subconjunctival hemorrhage than a stirring of demonic power.

'The Flanders of brother Count- the count Flanders of brother… The-' Crowley’s long tongue darted out briefly and he took another pull on his drink. He didn’t seem to be speaking to anyone in particular.

Aziraphale cleared his throat. ‘Crowley. I was wondering if-‘

‘Gone to the King of France- the King of France- et il est le roi we had before, as before- mais pas toujours, méfiez-vous- for ’tis a war’ Crowley shook his head slowly as he continued babbling about the king of France and the brother of the Count of Flanders.

‘Crowley, can you hear me,’ this was going to be a lot harder than Aziraphale had thought.

‘Hear you…’ Crowley swayed slightly. He couldn’t get his eyes to focus. Demons*, as a general rule, do not become intoxicated past the point of pleasure** or alleviation of care. But Crowley had never put much store by general rules, especially when he was quite sure that something Very Bad had happened that seemed to be His Fault.

‘Yes,’ Aziraphale said, shifting stiffly, wishing he had thought to wear overshoes, 'I was wondering if you had any thoughts regarding the-‘

Crowley lost consciousness, and Aziraphale was only just able to keep him from hitting his head on the counter on the way down.

*angels, of course, were not supposed to become intoxicated at all, but no one listened to that

**where this delineation is drawn is almost entirely arbitrary, as masochism is far from uncommon among the Legions of Hell

#fanfic #fan fiction #good omens #crowley and aziraphale #aziraphale and crowle #alcohol tw

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wheremytwinwatches · 4 years

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[Where My Twin Watches]: Full Metal Alchemist Brotherhood Episode 19

Last time, Ross lived and was snuck out to Xing, Ed got yet another reason to hate Scar, Barry met himself, and Gluttony paid Riza a visit. Onwards!

Oh dear, all Roy can hear is gunshots from “Elizabeth”’s end. Go, Flame Alchemist! Save your bestie! Never mind, let’s just ignore the fights and go back to Sword Guy utterly disregarding the notion of Confidentiality. He says that Barry says the Colonel’s got a plan to smoke out the Goths from the Fifth Laboratory. This causes Al to head out, searching for Hughes’ murderer. Stop whining Ling, Al will tooootaly tell you when he gets back. Later, Winry! Episode 19 - “Death of the Undying” Uh oh, Gluttony’s got Riza by the neck, and she’s out of ammo. The Goth just chuckles at his multiple headshots, he’s about to eat Riza someone quick dog? Where’d the dog come from. Oh hey, Fuery’s here! Thanks for tossing Riza a new pistol, you’ve almost made up for ruining my Fuhrer Fury joke with this! Two people shooting at once is a bit more effective, but only just. Gluttony’s knocked to the window but his big frame doesn’t fit, and he’s healed up from the bullet holes in a few seconds as Riza and Fuery click their now-empty weapons. Ok, time for the backup of the backup to arrive!

Oh my Leto it is so satisfying to see that Goth go flying out the tower to the caption of [Gluttony screams]. Nice timing, Roy, good hustle! Riza… is not exactly appreciative of the rescue, yells at Roy for leaving his post and blowing his plausible deniability. Fuery just chuckles at them going at it, looking down at the charred body and wondering who the fat guy was. Ok, now get down there and finish the job, Gluttony isn’t finished off just- Whoop, Bio!Barry’s making a break for it, with the homicidal Soul Armor in pursuit. Roy and Riza bark out orders to the minion and mutt respectively. Then slooowly walk down the stairs as Riza thanks Roy for saving their life, Roy’s too focused on the mission to see her smile. Daw. Huh, once again Roy makes better time than I thought, Havoc’s barely run a few paces before he pulls up in a car and tells to loser to get in, they’re going Goth hunting. And then Al shows up! Buckle up buddy, time for a chase through the city. Well at least Barry’s having fun, chasing down the meatbag to do an impromptu funeral. Riza’s reloading and wondering if Blubber Man’s going to stay down, less sure than Roy after her own bullets had next to no effect. Al asks if he had an Uroboros tattoo, when she confirms seeing on his tongue he identifies him as a Homunculus. Hey, watch where you’re driving Roy! Said Colonel isn’t exactly happy to learn that the Goth probably survived the barbecue. Much later, looks like they’ve cornered BioBarry in the Third Laboratory. A direct tie to the military, then? Well, with that connection they can pull back. Uh, Barry? That is the opposite of pulling back. And Roy’s happy about this? Oh I get it, the crazy Soul Armor goes running in, and Roy’s Crew get to follow “in hot pursuit of the crazed murderer”. You other cops, go and secure the perimeter or something. Down into the Basement of Dramatic String Music they go, but then they face the bane of adventuring parties: a split corridor. Oh yeah, split the party, this can only go well. Roy and Havoc are going around, remarking at how dilapidated everything looks- Uh oh. Lust. Havoc, beware the Angry Girlfriend! On a more serious note, oh crap the party is split up in a basement presumably with multiple Goths. Might be time to stage a retreat. Ok ok, another laugh at how Havoc is a fool for honkers, but for real, back to seriousness. Roy asks about Hughes, and when Lust taunts him he goes for a kneeshot. It shows she’s a Homunculus, but it’ll take more than that to- Roy interrupts her monologue with the rest of his clip, it’s about as effective as we can expect but at least it shut her up for a few moments. But the claws come out, and Lust… stabs herself? Oh. Oh dear. That’s a Philosopher’s Stone. So if all the Goths are built around this miraculous tool of Transmutation then they’ll just keep coming back. On the plus side, now we have a clear weakness: destroy the Stone and they lose their regeneration. Quick Roy, shoot the Glowing Weak Spot! Nope, too slow. Now that Lust is finished talking to the Soon-To-Be-Dead-Men, she disarms them… and slices a water pipe, rendering Roy’s Ignition Gloves useless. Well, crap. Both men run screaming for the exit, tumble outside while Havoc asks what they’re gonna do. But Roy’s happy? Oh! He may have lost his signature ability, but he’s still a State Alchemist who can transmute any materials on hand. Say, a bunch of water into hydrogen gas? Thanks for cutting that pipe, lady! Here, have a lighter!

Al and Riza pick up on the Big Boom, but Riza just steels herself and keeps searching for their target. Good trust in your boss, here’s hoping you two don’t end up in the same situation. After the Jean Havoc/Lust narrator cards, Roy and Havoc are searching the now-torched room. A bit of snarking about the busted ex-girlfriend gift how bad cigarettes are, Roy says aw man why did you say that without a body. She’ll be just in the next room and or no she’s in this one under the rubble! Havoc’s been spiked! Oh crap oh crap, Roy’s still weaponless in a room with Lust, this isn’t good. Oh right, Havoc’s gun which good Leto is rather strong, Lust is down an arm. She’s still boasting about how Roy can’t put her down for good… while her Stone is exposed. Yoink! It’s rather effective, and Lust actually crumbles away. A bit anticlimactic, honestly. But now Roy’s got the MacGuffin! Now to heal Havoc, give it to the Elric Brothers, and the show’s over! I wonder what complication is going to come up now. Roy gets ready to cast Heal and GUH OH MY LETO NO NO NO Lust just grew back around the Stone, her half-formed body chided Roy for being so forward, and Spiky Fingers to the chest. And now HE’S here! [Lab Guard Captain]: “Uh-- Uh… Your Excellency!” [Fuhrer Wrath]: “What’s the current status?” This is not backup! This is the opposite of backup! Lust dumps Roy on the ground, oh-so-sad that she’s been forced to kill such a promising sacrificial candidate as she shreds his glove and leaves him to watch Havoc die before he himself bleeds out. Um. Wow. I can hope that with Lust pulling the classic “Leave before you see them die for sure” mistake that they’ll be ok? Please? Havoc? Come on, answer me buddy. While this awfulness is going on, Al and Riza arrive in an incredibly bright white room with a large Alchemy Symbol (the same on we saw in Xerxes?) on the wall, and Barry looking down at the lifeless remains of his old body, commenting on how a soul shoved in another form is so harmful. This of course shocks Al, makes him wonder if he’ll survive as a Soul Armor until they can reform their original bodies. Al… *Sigh* Riza, just put the pistol down, we’re perfectly aware at how effective that is against the Goths. Lust demands to know why Barry is helping out our guys, he basically says it’s for the heck of it and he wants to kill her anyway. The Goth just complains about how she’ll have to kill a second candidate now since Al tagged along, at which point Barry gets tired of waiting and charges and he’s dead now. Whelp. So long, Barry the Butcher. So now that that’s out of the way, Lust prepares to send Riza after her superior. Riza… does not take the news well. [Furious!Riza]: “You biiittch!!” She empties one pistol to mournful music, same with the second, and finishes with a revolver. All to achieve Lust standing back up and patronizingly asking if she’s done. Aw hell no, don’t you fucking dare call Riza weak. Al, pound her face in. Damnit Riza, take this chance and get out of here! Al’s the only one who can at least slow her down with his Transmutation ability and the fact that he’s friggin metal while you’re flesh and blood, get moving! But no, they keep doing the “save yourself, no you save yourself” thing heroes do while Lust stands there annoyed.

How old is Al again? Whatever it is, it’s way too goddamn young for him to be standing his ground against this murderer, screaming about how [Al]: “I’m sick of watching people die! And I can’t just sit back and take it anymore!” -to a montage of all those touched by death in this show, including that time someone got stabbed while inside him. Friggen Leto, this show. [wait, WHAT?!]: “Well spoken… I couldn’t agree more.” Al IMMEDIATELY earthbends up a shield to protect him and Riza as the room gets filled with ALL OF THE FIRE, it clears to see charred Lust looking oh-so-satisfyingly shocked as The Badass Roy grits out that he got her on her knees, after all. Then the camera pans to oh my Leto I did not expect to see The Badass Roy’s chiseled abs today but I am happy that I did, as he stands there in all his determined glory clutching his stab wounds with one hand and holding the not-so-broken lighter in the other. Or still broken, but The Badass Roy didn’t let that stop him as he just uses the flint to get a spark and a TC carved into his own hand. Cue EVEN MORE FIRE as Lust whines about how he should have bled out by now, but of course The Flame Alchemist seared the wound closed, admits that he aaaaalmost passed out from the pain before MORE FIRE. Now, about that claim that he couldn’t kill you? Let’s see how many FIREs it takes to get to the center of a Gothie-pop, huh?! Again! And again! AND AGAIN! AND AGAIN! BURN, YOU BITCH! No no fuck no you don’t get to suddenly be patched up and charging towards The Badass Roy no no no [The Bitch]: “You killed me.” YYYYYYYYEEEEEEEESSSSSSSS Lust is crumbling to ashes now as The Badass Roy’s attacks have seemed to finally have damaged her Stone. But she wouldn’t be a Goth if she didn’t go out with a disparaging monologue, pleased that she at least was killed by a man with such cold and focused eyes, looking forward to the day those eyes are wide with agony. [Lust]: “It’s coming... It’s coming…” The Philosopher's Stone falls, and crumbles away. Finally, Roy falls, the effort of his attack and his injuries overcoming him. Riza and Al brush off his thanks and prepare to get a medic aw HELL no I’d forgotten about Bradley, he’s just outside the room- but he just sheathed his sword and walked away. Bwuh? You’re letting them live? What’s your game, Wrath? Ok whatever, the Fuhrer is being mysterious, what else is new, just get Roy and Havoc some help right now! Oh yeah, Winry’s been left at the hotel all day. She’s telling herself over and over that Al’s alright. And here he is! A bit worse for wear, but nothing a little bit of TLT (Tender Loving Transmutation) won’t fix! And he can even do it himself, so no worries Winry! [Winry]: “Moron! Welcome back!” [Al]: “Uh, okay… thanks!” Aw, laugh it out you two. And maybe get some glue for Al’s arm. Wait, Barry’s still alive?! Oh, Lust missed his sigil with her attack, so he’s down to just that little piece of sheet metal. But he’ll be back- wait, BioBarry’s still alive?! How in Leto’s name did he survive all of the FIRE? Well whatever, we get a part-funny, part-bittersweet moment as dumb old BioBarry paws at Barry’s sigil, wiping it away and sending The Butcher off for good. Sayanora, you homicidal maniac. Thanks for your help in the end. Oh hey, Al! How you doing, Protagonist? The Mighty Armstrong and Breda are seeing him off at the train station, is he finally going back to Central to rejoin the Blonde Kids? Well, at least Al will have one heck of a story for him. Never mind, looks like a detour to the graveyard… where there’s someone there? In a brown coat with blond hair… no, it can’t be… It’s him. The man we’ve only seen in flashbacks and the intro. The man who’s forever covered up in pictures. It’s Papa Elric. It’s Hohenheim. … And THAT’S WHERE WE END THE EPISODE?! WHAT THE-

#wmtw #where my twin watches #full metal alchemist #full metal alchemist brotherhood #fmab #fmab 19 #ranubis

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