Three weeks ago I had 38 sweet followers on tumblr.
Now, I have 111. Now, I know this is two fics in one day,
but this came out of nowhere.
And, I wanted to celebrate the 100 milestone a little.
This fic is literally a sh*t show, for a serious lack of a better label.
It's me throwing rotten, poison tomatoes at Roy and Riza and driving them
to a point where something like the things that happen in this fic might actually,
who knows if it ever could be canon, but it should be entertaining.
Anyway, here's a little prologue with a heck of a hook.
Also, this was speed written, so don't hold me accountable for any of this.
Review, favorite, follow me on tumblr: myrhymesarepurer,
talk to me talk to me talk to me. i like talking.
It only took five total steps
to reach a ridiculous level of complete
and utter, unmatched rock bottom.
And, this spoke volumes for the most horrible,
most tragic histories of a one General Roy Mustang
and his Captain, Riza Hawkeye.
First the tattoo,
then mass destruction,
alchemy gone terribly wrong,
Ishval, clear cut genocide.
Certainly, that was much more of a knife in the dark,
Certainly, that was the horror to trump all others.
The Promised Day didn't hold a candle to Ishval, of course.
Even with the slit of her neck, the near loss of her Colonel,
then, after all that work, the loss of his sight.
The treachery of that endless event was at least redeemed in part.
though the wounds still burned and screamed,
they would heal in time.
The country was restored.
The Elrics were once again whole.
They were on track once more.
All was supposedly well.
They, truly, should have maxed out their quota,
the acceptable amount, if any amount, of trauma
in two people's lifetimes.
They had handled all of it, survived the lot,
And pulled through said lifetime of trauma,
in a matter of just under thirty years.
But, this.
This was a circus.
This was chaos.
Normalcy was supposed to be
normal, she thought.
Mundane.
Boring, even.
Not like this.
For in five steps, all absurdly and impressively scattered
at the opposite ends of nearly all spectrums,
They had hit a whole new kind of brick wall,
fallen far into a whole new kind of deep dark pit.
The kicker, you ask?
The force that violently shoved the two seeming invincible
soldiers, fighters, seasoned war veterans
off the edge of the grandest cliff?
It all shamefully revolved around
the heart, breakable, fragile,
weak.
And, for some reason,
Riza's most irrational piece of her mind,
could compare it all to the savage sting of a ruthless war.
For in five steps,
they were taken by surprise,
an ultimate siege.
invisible bombs,
inaudible gunfire,
They were overtaken,
it seemed, it felt,
it ached.
They were defeated in seconds,
in five simple steps.
First, the kissing problem,
starting the spiral off in a new,
delightfully strange obstacle,
frivolously and silly.
Pulling each other into
closets and stairways.
After it all, they both felt
like they could hurl.
It was all too intense,
it felt, it ached,
sharp and vicious.
For the second was the shutdown
all the way from the top,
The only hope they ever had,
squelched.
Third,
Pearl.
What kind of name was Pearl?
Perfectly cut, flipped and curled chestnut hair,
Pretty, flitty, lacy pink party dresses.
Fourth,
Edward Elric,
an appearance, a desperate warning, all for not
a lightning strike, a dart out of the blue
The fifth and final, the capture.
And, here they were at the end,
Riza bleeding through her military uniform,
and Roy's own jacket, even Edward's classic coat of red,
the pressure not enough.
It was the end,
She accepted it.
Then and there,
she would fade away.
The last thing she would ever do,
was smash teacups and burn flowers.
So stupid.
So shameful.
So utterly deplorable.
and cowardly, that it took those five steps
to finally, finally pry the truth from Roy's white knuckles,
gripping her tight, and Riza's cooling hands, draining slowly.
It took a tattoo, a war, genocide,
a nearly fatal military coup,
battling undying beings,
for heaven's sake,
And then five, pathetic, brutally absurd steps,
decimating the normalcy, the boring life she thought,
for a hot second, they might have been graciously granted.
It took three bloody coats, bloody hacks from her lungs,
raw skin peeling off her back, all to unearth the truth
The truth the two had always really known.
And, most disgracefully,
Riza, laying limp on stone,
felt she wasn't dying from blood loss, no.
She nearly felt she was dying of regret, and self-hatred,
her stubbornness, her pride,
And a quite purely, honestly,
A broken heart.
How silly.
How deplorable.
The color started the drain from Riza's eyes,
from Roy's face. Edward started to plead,
and Winry started to cry.
I would have married you.
She scrunched her eyes, open and shut.
Riza tried to focus on Roy.
He was speaking to her,
But his soft voice faded away,
His orders,
his begging,
his dreaming out loud
All she could hear was
smashing teacups.
Heads UP, this is just a prologue.
If you don't get it, you're totes not supposed to,
no pressure. Just favorite and keep update if you're interested!
The teacup thing will be much more clear later.
This entire thing is vague. This fic will be coming later. It's #2 on my writing queue.
This entire thing is a circus.
I just wanted to celebrate a little.
Thanks so much for putting up with me.
Yay 100!If you liked this and want
something to read while you wait.
try out my newest, Home, ting-a-ling,
Very Well, and The Great Pretend.
Review review, leave me with thoughts.