one hawkeye tattoo at a time


FMAB, Post-Promised Day 

a/n trying to get better at that whole Royai drabble thing. where it’s super small. this one is only like 900 words. are you proud of me? i’m proud of me. 

also this totally doesn’t fit into the canon of my edwin wedding fics. 
but, i whipped it up. thought it was cute. 
practice practice. 

Riza Hawkeye did not curse often. 

But, this was an exception.
This was a major exception.

The zipper was stuck.

She tugged.
The zipper then broke.
Of course the zipper broke.  

“Is something wrong, Miss Riza?” Winry had asked,
perfectly oblivious to what exactly this mishap entailed.

Riza stood behind the dressing screen, bit her lip hard
and let the gears in her head turn.

But, she was quick.

She knew from the second the purple fabric snagged.
The only way she could wear that bridesmaids’ dress
was to duck out of Winry’s room,
and get to Ed’s.

She needed an excuse.

“I-uh,” she swallowed, utterly flustered, frazzled. How unusual.
“I must step out and speak with the General.”

Riza slipped on her robe, pulling it tight around her back.
Winry raised an eyebrow while the room of girls watched
her step out from behind the screen.

Pinako puffed her pipe, “About what exactly?”
Riza blinked. Mae squeaked. Winry smirked.

Any interaction whatsoever with Roy Mustang guaranteed a sly smile,
a ‘knowing’ grin from any one of these women,
though, however, only innocently interested in her own happily ever after.

for the most part

Still, Riza had no time to explain, defend, nor deny.
“I’d like his opinion on our forbidden romance.”

Keep reading

In episode 2, Riza tells Winry that Ed joining the military would be his own choice. They won’t force him to do it and if he does, it’s his decision and his dicision alone.

The same way she later mentions it was her own choice to join it, owning full responsibility for her actions and validating herself as an independent individual who makes her own path.

She puts a lot of value on the freedom to do whatever one wants to do with their life because there was a time when she couldn’t. And she knows Roy is not asking Ed to join, but giving him the chance to choose that path, just like he respected her choice to get her tattoo burned and like he trusted her judgement when he asked her to watch his back.


So, now that I’ve finally found my drawing of the penultimate design, here’s the stages my Hawkeye tattoo went through.
I posted a similar photoset a while back, but this one has been updated with the drawing+a photo taken of the tattoo last week. (I got it done in April, and since then it’s been pretty exposed to the rays of summer, hence the faded purple. I’ll get a touch up in October!)
Anyways, this tattoo was a long time in the making and its so special to me.
The quote is taken from The Young Avengers, a scene with Clint as Ronin and Kate as Hawkeye.
“You’re gonna miss each and every shot you can’t be bothered to take. That’s not living life, that’s just being a tourist. Take every shot, Kate. If its worth caring about, no matter how impossible you think it is. You take the shot. ”

100 Royai Drabbles (37)

Well, here it is: the first actual AU in this series. This is a soulmate tattoo AU with a side order of Havolina because I am weak.

37. Match

No one on the team talked about the bandage on Hawkeye’s arm. For as long as Havoc had known, it was always been there, like a brace right after her right forearm. After repeatedly catching glimpses of the brace throughout their first year working together on Mustang’s team, he came to the conclusion that it wasn’t due to an injury. Once that was done, he figured that it was probably to cover up a tattoo – and not just any tattoo. It was most likely one of those soulmate marks.

Breda wasn’t so sure about it, considering that none of them had ever heard Hawkeye mention a thing about dating, but Havoc was pretty damn certain he was right. Maybe she covered it up partially due to embarrassment, but he thought that she just did it out of professionalism. Something like that soulmate tattoo business was very private and personal, and those were two things that did not mix with work. Lieutenant Hawkeye was the pinnacle of professionalism, whipping them all into shape in the process, so of course she’d keep something like a soulmate mark hidden while at work.

For the most part, Havoc didn’t think anything of it. So the Lieutenant had a soulmate out there somewhere. He was happy for her, despite not knowing her feelings on the matter. She deserved it though for all the work she did. He wished she didn’t feel the need to cover it up, but ah, that was how she was. He never bothered hiding his himself, filled with a mixture of obnoxious glee, amusement, and horror.

After all, having the words, I hope not all men are like you, scrawled on his left bicep had not boded well when they’d first appeared and it had been an even bigger shock when he’d heard them spoken aloud. Even more ridiculous was the fact that the person that had spoken them seemed to resolutely refuse that she most likely had his corresponding response tattooed on her somewhere. Tattoo soulmate marks were strange like that. The pairs didn’t always get together like they did in stories, fighting with themselves over it as they lived.

Havoc really didn’t think of the Lieutenant’s possible soulmate tattoo for the longest time until he found himself in the hospital with the Colonel. It was a minor incident really (the building didn’t completely fall on him, and he didn’t have any broken bones), but he and his superior were hospitalized and forced to stay at least one night due to concussions.

“This is all Fullmetal’s fault,” the Colonel huffed as nurses came in change his bandages. Normally, he was quite pleasant whenever the nurses came in, but his mind was still taking in the fact that the person that had helped bring the building down had not been hospitalized as well.

Havoc wisely said nothing in response. It was true that Edward’s alchemy had had immense results in causing the building they were chasing the suspects in to become unstable, but it had been Mustang’s flame alchemy that caused the rabble to catch fire. Still, despite the fact that Mustang was without his ignition gloves, Havoc didn’t want to find out if Mustang could use anything else to light him on fire. Once he glanced over towards Mustang though, something caught his attention.

There was a square bandage patch his lower left abdomen. Maybe it hid an ugly scar from the War, but when the nurse went to fiddle with it, questions of its placement already leaving her mouth, Mustang snatched at her wrist. She looked startled, but Mustang gave her an apologetic smile and explained that it was nothing. Havoc frowned and narrowed his eyes. Nothing could mean anything and judging from the almost embarrassed look on the other man’s face, it was most definitely something.

For some reason, Havoc’s mind jumped to the bandage on the Lieutenant’s arm, but that was such a strange leap of logic that he dismissed it. Most likely, if it was a soulmate tattoo mark, Mustang didn’t want just any pretty girl to see it. As everyone knew, the soulmate tattoo mark didn’t come at the same time for everyone. His own parents’ had told him that their marks didn’t appear until two years after they’d first met. One couple he knew didn’t have marks until after they were married and it was at separate times. It was rare, since most people gained their marks before they met their soulmate and at the same time, but not uncommon. Mustang did have a pretty active love life, so he probably didn’t want any girl to know that they weren’t the one.

What a sly bastard, Havoc thought with a snort, leaning back in his bed to wait for his turn for the nurse to come bother him. He didn’t care if she saw his soulmate tattoo mark, being proud of it himself. At least he had one. He’d been worried for the longest time that he wouldn’t be and spent his teenage years getting teased for it coming so late. Everyone reacted to the mark differently.

The next morning, Havoc awoke to the door slamming open and he jumped in his bed.

“Excuse me?” Mustang grumbled from his bed, throwing the blanket over his head like a child.

Havoc rubbed his eyes and then nearly gulped when he spotted a rather angry-looking Rebecca Catalina standing in the doorway, huffing as if she’d run all the way here. Behind her was Hawkeye naturally, her best friend and partner in giving men hell. Of course the two of them would be here so early in the morning. He gave Rebecca a sheepish grin. “Good morning, Second Lieutenant.”

“Don’t you ‘Second Lieutenant’ me, you idiot,” Rebecca snapped furiously, pointing a finger at him. Not for the first time did Havoc thank a higher power that she did not jump to her gun as Hawkeye did. “Were you even planning on telling me that you were in the hospital?”

“Er…no?” Havoc, for all his keen skills at field and undercover work, knew better than to lie to a woman, especially one that could be as temperamental as Rebecca and owned multiple weapons. Still, he probably could have done with some lessons in softer approaches. Maybe the Colonel could teach him.

Rebecca took a deep, infuriating breath and then stomped over to him. Hawkeye slipped in after, shutting the door quietly, and walked over to the Colonel’s bed. Havoc shot Mustang a slightly panicked look (he knew how to deal with angry women better than Havoc), but the man was preoccupied talking to Hawkeye, so he was forced to look Rebecca in the face. She wore a furious look, but there was a film of tears in her eyes, like she’d been fighting the urge to cry. A tinge of guilt flickered in him and he sunk in his bed.

“I was worried,” Rebecca mumbled, a strange difference from the anger on her face. She glanced away from his face then and looked down at her shoes, anywhere but his bare arm. He always marveled at how much she refused to acknowledge her words printed on his skin. “I wouldn’t have even known if Riza hadn’t mentioned anything and then I heard about that building collapse and I…”

Scratching the back of his head, Havoc sighed. “Ah, hell, look, I’m sorry, Rebecca. It wasn’t that big of a deal, I swear” – the sharp look at him told him that she thought differently – “and I didn’t want to worry you, so that’s why I didn’t let you know. Clearly, that was a mistake on my part.” Unlike a certain Colonel, Havoc was pretty good at owning up to his mistakes. He was stubborn, but not anywhere near Mustang’s level and not when it came to Rebecca, for however much she was with him.

She seemed to melt in response, the anger sliding away from her, and sat down at the edge of his bed, taking his hand in hers. A spark shot up his arm whenever she did that. It happened at random, sometimes when she’d been drinking or when she was in an oddly good mood, but he enjoyed it every time.

“Ugh,” Mustang grumped from his side of the room, “please get me out of here, Lieutenant, before it turns all mushy. I have to deal with that enough thanks to Hughes.”

At his bedside, Hawkeye rolled her eyes just a hair and then handed him his hospital shirt. “Yes, sir. We can get you breakfast in the cafeteria. A walk will probably do you some good.”

Havoc noted that Hawkeye did not look at Mustang directly when she held out the shirt, so as to not look at his bare chest. Maybe it was out of modesty or professionalism, but Havoc couldn’t help but get the distinct feeling that it was out of discomfort and not because her superior officer was standing shirtless next to her. Once fully clothed and in shoes, Mustang promised to bring Havoc something back and his two superior officers stepped out of the hospital room.

Havoc stared at the door for a few more seconds. “Hm.”

“What’s that face for?” Rebecca asked.

“You’ve known the First Lieutenant for a while, haven’t you?”

“Well sure,” Rebecca replied, “known her since the Academy.” She tilted her head. “Why do you ask?”

Havoc made sure to look the woman in the face, so he could tell better whether she lied to him or not. “Has she always worn that brace on her arm?”

“Actually…” Rebecca shook her head. “No, she hasn’t.” Before Havoc could ask her another question, she tapped him on the arm, right next to his soulmate tattoo. “And considering you’re asking, you probably more or less know what’s underneath. I won’t tell you what it says – I doubt more than three people know – but I can tell you that she didn’t start wearing the brace until after she came back from Ishval.”

“She doesn’t want people to see it,” Havoc said in a mild tone. Rebecca nodded her head this time. That much he’d already known, but it did give him a few more clues. She’d allowed the tattoo to be seen before being sent to war. Maybe she felt guilt at having a soulmate; maybe she believed that she didn’t deserve one. Both Hawkeye and Mustang were excellent at punishing themselves over the past, though neither one would talk about it. That comparison sprung something up again. “The Colonel has one as well that he doesn’t want people to see. I didn’t know of it until yesterday, but I’m almost positive of it.”

A contemplative look crossed Rebecca’s face. “Those two do a lot of hiding.”

“You don’t think…?” Havoc let the question die midway. The Lieutenant and the Colonel? Could they possibly be hiding more than just their soulmate tattoo marks? After all, there were the laws against anti-fraternization and even if no one but them would be able to tell that their tattoos matched with one another, it could raise complications. Maybe it said their names. That would’ve made things obvious. He couldn’t imagine what it would’ve been like to have someone’s name as a soulmate mark. It’d be like a brand, a tale of ownership.

Rebecca sighed and only shook her head, but for some reason, he knew that she was only telling him that she couldn’t say anything and not that his assumption was incorrect. Everything slid into place, but the future felt jagged and unsure. If Mustang and Hawkeye had matching soulmate marks, it would make things a lot stranger for the both of them. It made perfect sense that they’d hide their tattoos at work.

All of a sudden, Havoc felt incredibly grateful that his own wasn’t so complicated, even if he and Rebecca seemed to be rockier than a mountain. He at least knew that she was his, if not now, then one day. He smiled, squeezing her hand, and she harrumphed at him, a hint of her anger at him from earlier returning, but that only managed to make him laugh.

tw: child abuse/general creepiness of fathers

Can we talk about just how creepy and gross it is that berthold Hawkeye tattooed his daughter’s entire back?? No matter the circumstances, I can’t think of a scenario where it isn’t WRONG. 
In Brotherhood, berthold doesn’t complete his research until after Roy joins the military, so Riza would still be a teenager, or juuuuusst barely an adult. So if you assume he did the tattoo all in one go, that means teenage Riza spent a huge amount of time with her father with her shirt off, and that’s just so creepy
But if you assume he tattooed a little at a time as he was researching, then he might have started tattooing Riza when she was younger, and that’s just gross.
No matter what age she was, I can’t think of a scenario that doesn’t make me want to throw up and/or tear berthold Hawkeye limb from limb

Edit: some people have been sexualizing this. If you’re jumping to the conclusion that it’s creepy because it’s sexual, you need to reevaluate. I think it’s creepy because she seems like she would have been uncomfortable (I can’t imagine anyone would be comfortable going through that) and because she would have been not-quite-an-adult, it seems like she would have been coerced to put up with it. Stop sexualizing it.

anonymous asked:

PLEASE write something royai with "You’re smart and successful with an adorable belly" because Riza being a little shy about her pregnant body and Roy being like "you're ADORB" is what i need in my life. Maybe similar to the concerns and reassurances about her tattoo and scars >.> she's not vain but anyone would think about appearances at least once

Thank you for the request, Nonny! Here’s a little drabble for you~ Sorry I kind of changed the sentence up a bit.

Riza Hawkeye had never been one to care too much about her appearance. While she was always sure to maintain a certain degree of tastefulness when out in civilian clothing, she had never been the type to spend too much time putting herself together, much less obsessing over it. But today, for whatever reason, was different.

Maybe she would use her condition as a scapegoat - much like so many others would. Hormones could be a nasty thing to combat when your brain turns over and rewires itself to accommodate them. The longer she looked at it, though, the less certain she felt that it was her physical body causing her to feel this way. Wasn’t a mother whose body changed and dedicated itself to nurturing a new life supposed to feel sure about it? Because if so… why wasn’t she?

She lifted the bottom of her shirt with one hand and pressed the other to the small swell on her stomach. It was becoming more noticeable now. It wouldn’t be too long before her uniform would be too snug to comfortably wear. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw the frown on her reflection’s face deepen. 

Her uniform…

Riza sighed. She knew it was inevitable. That one day she’d have to trade in her uniform for a larger size, or even have to go without. It was difficult to say which she’d prefer, because either way she would stick out like a sore thumb. Her ears grew warm at the thought. It was bad enough that word had already gotten out after a certain best friend of hers decided to tell the wrong person, who in turn told a handful more. The news of her expectancy traveled like wildfire, and before long everyone who didn’t have their heads stuck in the dirt were aware.

Her stomach rolled uncomfortably, and it wasn’t the little one that had done so. The thought of their eyes on her, measuring her up, was unnerving. She was never the one to seek attention and would avoid it at all costs in order to do what she did best - blend into the background. But now that would be relatively impossible. 

She closed her eyes and exhaled softly. She supposed it would be something she’d just have to endure…

A few moments later she felt a familiar pressure on her shoulder as a set of arms simultaneously snaked themselves around her waist, hands finding and resting atop the hand she had on her stomach. Thought she knew who it was, she still opened her eyes, finding herself staring into the obsidian pair that her husband’s reflection wore.

The small smile he wore moments before faded when she did not return it and his brows knitted together. “Is everything alright?”

She knew it wasn’t something she could keep from him, though the thought of telling him such a silly concern seemed too overbearing. Still, she figured that it might ease the ridiculous concern somewhat. After all, Roy had always been the type to see things from all angles. And if not, at least it would be a weight off her chest “It is,” she answered with a sigh. “It’s just…” She slowly tapered off when his hands tightened their grip on hers, bringing her attention back down to the small bump. But instead of the knot she had felt moments ago, she instead felt a small touch of warmth, and a small smile found its way to her lips. There was that feeling she feared was lost. Maybe all it took was a little something to help her remember it. “I guess you could say that I’m not too eager to have all of those eyes on me when the inevitable happens.” His brows arched and she shook her head. “I’m pretty sure I’ll be hard to miss.”

He took a few moments to process her statement, but then his small grin returned and he hugged her tighter to himself. “You mean more than you already are?”

Her brows knitted together, now the one who was confused.

Roy chuckled. “You’re one of the finest marksmen stationed at Central, Riza. You’re pretty hard to miss.” He rubbed his thumb over the back of her hand and she felt herself grow warm again. “Not only are you beautiful, but you’re smart and successful. Something that’s admired by anyone you meet. And now,” he added with a nod toward their hands, “You have an adorable belly to add to the mix.”

She shook her head and gave him a quiet laugh. “So are you saying that I can’t avoid it? That I’m doomed?”

“Doomed to be admired? Yes. But doomed to being a spectacle?” He pressed a quick kiss to her cheek. “No.”

She rolled her eyes and leaned her head against his, eyeing their reflection again. For the third time in that short span, her eyes wandered back down to her growing stomach. And once again she felt a light warmth swell within her. He was a sweet-talker alright, but one who had helped mitigate the little bit of worry that had firmly rooted itself in her psyche. But now… Now she felt something different.

Now… She felt ready.

100 Royai Drabbles (59)

Because I’m impatient. Finally! This is a prequel/companion piece to Drabble 37 (”Match”) – the soulmate tattoo AU. But since it’s a prequel, you don’t have to read that one in order to understand this one. This is focused mostly on Roy. I’ve got another one already written that is focused on Riza. I’m really glad that I decided to write more of these.

59. Gift

It was supposed to be a day unlike any other, shortly after he turned ten, when Roy woke up to a searing pain on his lower left abdomen. Roy jerked around in his bed, caught in the sheets and a strangled shout caught in his throat. The burning pain stopped as quickly as it began, leaving a light throb, and he halted in his struggle. He knew what it was now that he was awake, but he was hesitant to do anything about it. After all, he’d heard the stories about these sorts of marks; he just hadn’t known if he was going to get one or not.

Roy lay in bed until he heard the other habitants of the house stirring. Slowly, he made his way about getting ready, tugging his shirt down every time it threatened to rise up. He took a shower awkwardly, not looking down at himself as he washed his body and keeping his eyes either forward or up. When he got out, he made sure to angle his body away from the mirror in the bathroom. He even closed his eyes when he put on his clothes. It definitely caused him to struggle more, but he didn’t care.

For some reason, Roy couldn’t bear the idea of looking down at the words of his soulmate that he knew was tattooed on his body now.

He ate his breakfast in silence, his aunt’s girls bustling about him loudly. He tried to keep to himself for the most part, digging into his cereal, but he could feel his Aunt Chris’ eyes on him. How she could possibly know what had happened was beyond him, but he wouldn’t put anything past her. After four years of living under her roof, he’d learned firsthand that there was no such thing as hiding anything from his aunt turned foster mother.

“What’s up with you, Roy-boy?” Aunt Chris finally asked. She was sat at the table across from him, giving him the look of a shrewd businesswoman. His aunt was by no means a warm, touching mother, but she’d taken him in after his parents died, having spent months tracking him down in the system, and she was protective of him in her own way. “You haven’t been this quiet in a long time.”

Roy painfully swallowed his cereal. “Not feeling well.” It wasn’t exactly the truth, but it wasn’t a lie either. He didn’t feel well. His stomach felt all out of sorts, flopping at the mere thought of the soulmate mark, and it still burned. Subconsciously, as he sat under her gaze, he scratched at his abdomen.

The movement caught her attention. “What’s that there?”

“Nothing,” Roy said quickly. “A bug bite.”

“Oh? Is it nothing or a bug bite?” his aunt asked. When Roy didn’t respond and blinked back at her, she let out a sigh and stood up from her chair, walking over to him. She waved a hand at him. “Let’s see it then.”

Roy hesitated at first, giving her something of a fearful look. Aunt Chris gave him the softest look that she could manage, though it still seemed to have an edge. Her soulmate mark was faded after her husband’s death years ago. Most of the girls that worked for her either didn’t have one at all or didn’t have one yet. A part of him strangely felt guilty for having a soulmate mark now, like he was afraid that his makeshift family would be upset with him.

After his aunt’s look turned expectant, Roy set his spoon down and gingerly lifted up the side of his shirt. His aunt leaned down to examine the mark while he stared at the clock on the other side of the wall.

“Hm.” Aunt Chris stood back up straight and Roy dropped his shirt. “Have you seen it yet?” He shook his head. All of the words felt like they’d been taken right out of his mouth. His aunt was right in pointing out that he was never went so long without speaking, but he didn’t know if he could. “Do you want to know what it says?”

At this, Roy licked his lips, but then nodded his head slowly.

“It says, ‘If you could please follow me to your room, Mister Mustang’.”

Roy blinked. It was painfully boring, as far as soulmate tattoo marks went, but his brain jumped anyways. “Am I supposed to fall in love with a bellhop?” he burst out, which only managed to make his aunt guffaw. That was the only thing that he could think of, someone showing him to his room in a hotel. That meant that he probably wouldn’t meet his soulmate for a very long time, especially if that person was going to call him Mister Mustang. He wrinkled his nose. The name made him think of his father. He was going to make sure that no one called him that. It was ridiculous.

A little over three years later, the thought of the soulmate tattoo far from his mind, Roy finds himself standing on the doorstep of the Hawkeye Estate, demanding to be taken on as an alchemy apprentice. He’s learned a great many of things from being raised by Madam Christmas, the art of persuasion being only one of him. Despite the fact that Berthold Hawkeye outright refuses at first, somehow or another, whether because of his presence or his refusal to give up, the alchemist acquiesces and Roy is taken in to yet another person’s household.

His new teacher rattles off a few rules, more to surely follow, and then leaves Roy alone in the parlor, unsure of what he’s supposed to do. Already he can tell that Master Hawkeye is going to be a strange teacher, but he knows the rumors about the man’s research on a special type of alchemy and it sparks a fire in Roy’s mind that can’t be tamed until he learns more.

He’s standing in the room awkwardly, suitcase still in hand, when a blonde-haired girl steps into the dark room. Her hair is cut short, a little longer than most boys, tossed about like she’s been busy working and her cheeks hold a light pink tinge to them. The outfit she’s wearing looks like a school uniform, a simple white blouse with a navy blue tie and matching skirt that stops just above her knees. She’s younger than him, but maybe only by a few years. Most importantly, she looks as if she’d rather do anything in the world than deal with her father’s new apprentice, but does her best to hide it with a painted on smile.

It’s only when she says the words – “If you could please follow me to your room, Mister Mustang” – that Roy starts with a jolt and begins to gawk at her outright. She doesn’t seem to notice the shock on his face and turns on her heels, starting up the stairs. It takes everything in his power to follow her and he nearly trips over a few of the steps because he’s too busy staring at her to watch where he’s going.

It’s her? She’s his soulmate? Roy runs his fingers through his hair. She’s so young. He’s young, if he’s being honest with himself. He’s only thirteen years-old. And he’s met his soulmate already? He tries to remember any stories about people finding their soulmates at such a young age, but most of the time, those stories involved the tattoos showing up years later when they were older and more mature. He’s thirteen and there isn’t any room beyond alchemy in his mind, much less his soulmate.

“This is your room. The study is downstairs to the right, the kitchen is on the left. Breakfast will be ready at seven. I’m to cook, so you won’t have to worry about that.” His teacher’s daughter turns to face him and gives him a careful look over that reminds him strangely of his aunt. It’s the type of look that says she misses nothing. He’ll have to be careful around her for sure. “If you need anything else, Mister Mustang, I’ll be in the study. I’m Riza, by the way.”

Suddenly, it occurs to Roy that he hasn’t spoken a single word, so she wouldn’t know why he’s acting so odd, but he finds himself almost too nervous to speak. How will she react to the knowledge that he’s her soulmate? His aunt told him that he shouldn’t be so scared about his soulmate tattoo mark – that it was a gift – but now that he’s met his soulmate, he isn’t so sure about that.

“Roy,” he nearly cries out in a panic. Riza raises her eyebrows at him in surprise. “Call me ‘Roy’, I mean, not ‘Mister Mustang’.”

He has to breathe through his nose to get any air in. What was he thinking? Had he even been thinking? This girl was going to have his name tattooed on her skin. Couldn’t he have said something cleverer? Anything besides what he’d exclaimed would have been better.

Instead of shock or glee or horror or anything that he could imagine her reacting with, Riza merely gives him something of a confused and uncomfortable look. “My father said to call you ‘Mister Mustang’,” she simply points out.

And then it hits him. She doesn’t have her soulmate tattoo mark yet. Almost all of the time, people get their soulmate marks at the same time. They could be thousands of miles apart, but their skin would burn and tingle with their soulmate’s first words to them simultaneously. There are a few stories about people getting them at different times, so that one person knew before the other, but it’s extremely rare. Roy forces himself to take a deep breath. It would appear as if they are one of those rare cases.

Roy knows in his bones that Riza is his soulmate, but she has no clue yet. It makes him feel a little better, but terrifies him at the same time. One of these days, those brown eyes of hers are going to widen and she will never be able to look at him the same again. He doesn’t know her and she has no idea what she will mean to him, but he knows that this unassuming girl will one day mean the world to him. It feels lot more like a burden than a gift.

anonymous asked:

injury and/or pain sharing with soulmate au? >:)

Answering this one out of order because FEELS. I’m sticking with just pain for this one!

  • When Roy was younger, he theorized that his soulmate was an acrobat or something because of how often he felt them get small cuts or banged up knees. After meeting Riza and seeing how much she enjoyed the outdoors and exploring the area around her house, he understood.
  • Roy woke up screaming one night at the academy from what he would describe as innumerable sharp bursts of pain. Because of his status, he was not allowed leave until a certain time and because the Hawkeyes did not have a phone, he had to spend one week worth of evenings enduring the pain for hours at a time, wondering what was happening to Riza.
  • It took twice as long to burn the tattoo on Riza’s body because of the incredible pain behind the act. But Roy refused to show any signs of it, despite feeling it on the same level as Riza because he wanted to both understand her pain and suffer it as well, as well as understand to some degree the unsurmountable pain he caused countless others in Ishval.
  • Riza regrets allowing the small pang of pain on her cheek to go relatively unnoticed when they were in the tunnels beneath Central Command, because the moment they arrived at the mysterious door she doubled over from a sudden, immense burst of pain in her side. Alphonse had to pick her up and carry her toward the source of the explosion they heard because she couldn’t walk. When they encountered Lust on the way there she screamed, because by then it felt just like the pain she felt when Roy burned her.
  • Roy almost didn’t make it up to the top of the watchtower when Riza was attacked by Gluttony because the pain in his neck made it feel as though he were suffocating. It was the same when Envy attacked Riza,:the pain from her head trauma when she hit the floor was jarring and nearly knocked him off his feet.
  • The pain in Riza’s hands made it incredibly difficult to hold onto Roy and keep him upright during the Promised Day. She fought through it when she reminded herself that he was continuing on, and therefore she must too. It also served as a reminder of what he had gone through, and how she had to be strong for him too.
  • When Riza’s throat was slit, the pain was very dull and almost unnoticeable. But Roy clung desperately to it because, despite it being minimal, knowing that he could still somewhat feel it meant that she was still alive. Although, there were a few moments where it was nonexistent…