#mama hawk

[dyingroses]

Fullmetal Alchemist: Brotherhood + AO3 tags

[katharinedraws00]

*falls from the sky*

Hey gang, I’m here to bring you my bimonthly artwork to you, this time it’s some fma parenting stuff from my favorite fic, full of mettle!!! I loved this line sm and the little moment Riza and Edward had, made my heart full 😭💖

@th0rnback I hope you like it!!

[th0rnback]

Take my cringe

(Or my arm, leg - take my heart if you have toooo!)

[milfhawks]

milfhawk at the pta meeting when someone implies zoro/perona is anything less than perfect

[threbe]

Was hawk mama looking for Arthur so she could give him chaos caz this was around the same time Merlin met Arthur when he was maybe 5 or 6

[anotherinternetuser]

A small Ed ‘n Riza drawing request asked for by the lovely Thornback! Hope you all enjoy, and have this small drabble to go with it ❤️

***

Hawkeye’s gaze is hard.

Hand curled and tucked into his lap, Edward fiddles with the thick fabric of his overcoat as he keeps his eyes low, trained on the ground, trying his best to avoid the gaze he can feel flitting from his face to his arm as fingers clutch and rub against the crook of his elbow. He’s flustered, unease settled deep in his chest, stomach tight, throat dry as he swallows back any words that might come bubbling up the back of his throat and put his mouth. This is uncomfortable. This is embarrassing.

He’s fourteen years old. He doesn’t need some to hold onto his arm and wrap clean cloth around a careless wound split across the soft skin of his forearm, a fair amount of blood trickling down and wetting the bandages. He doesn’t need someone to give him that exasperated look and chastise him for something he already knows he shouldn’t have done. He’s suffered the consequences, why does he need to sit and see Hawkeye’s show the obvious harshness in the lines of her face? Her obvious annoyance towards what he’s done?

He gets it. He’s stupid, he’s careless, it’s all his fault and he knows and if he hadn’t gotten so impulsive none of this would’ve happened and-

“Stop it, Edward.”

Ed stops up short at the sudden statement, brief confusion blossoming in his chest as Hawkeye speaks, tone leaving no room for argument, authority replacing the slight scold she had had before when she took his arm into her hands and began to clean his wound. Ed breaks eye contact with the floor and turns his gaze toward Hawkeye, befuddled at her words.

“Wha…what?” He stammers out, trying to stamp the confusion that he knows has bloomed over his face.

Hawkeye clucks her tongue, giving a slight furrow of her eyebrows. She pauses briefly in her wrapping. “You’re mulling. It’s over now. Move on.”

Edward stares, both in shock and slightly mortified that Hawkeye has so easily and quickly been able to pinpoint his emotions and scold him once again. How had she so quickly been able to cut down his wall and call him out? And why had she? He was right. This was his fault, and if he hadn’t been such a dumbass his arm would be fine, and Hawkeye wouldn’t feel the need to scold him and treat his wound like he was a child. Now, no one would trust him.

The movement of bandages and a slight sting as his skin shifts, raw tissue rubbing, snaps him back, an argument forming on the top of his tongue. “Well, if I hadn’t -“

“Edward.” Hawkeye warns, voice low but snappish, and words die on his tongue at once. “You will stop beating yourself up about this. You made a stupid decision, yes, and I wish you hadn’t, but it’s not worth anything to keep lingering on it. Move on.”

Edward stays silent, quiet, eyes back on the floor and slightly curled in on himself. He doesn’t know why, perhaps because he is so rarely on the scolding end of the sniper, but her words carry a heat different from that of the Colonels and Al and even the rest of the team. It’s not crueler, or more hurtful, but it hits in a way that’s raw and achingly familiar and he doesn’t like it one bit. He doesn’t like feeling he’s angered her.

“Okay,” he whispers, hunched and soft, still as bandages wrap around his arm.

He excepts silence then, for Hawkeye to be done and for this to turn into a rather uncomfortable memory that he’ll dwell on for ages.

Instead, she speaks again, voice much softer, hinted with warmth.

“I’m not mad at you, Ed.”

Oh, oh, the words are gentle, soothing, and the seldom use of his nickname makes it that much more familiar, much closer, and the weight in his chest twists and writhes as the sentence settles in. He allows himself, only briefly, to look back at her, to catch a quick glimpse of her face.

Hawkeyes gaze has softened.

[zorria]

Nntober Day 23: Boar Hat Heres a coloring of mama hawk that i did for a discord coloring contest a while ago i love it so much

[aquietwritingcorner]

Sicktember Day 15: Quarantine Word Count: 1391 Author: aquietwritingcorner/realitybreakgirl Rating: K/G Characters: Alphonse Elric, Riza Hawkeye Warning: Summary: After getting his body back, Alphonse has to be in quarantine for a bit. At least he’s not alone though. Notes: Heavily based on some headcanons that both Al and Riza would have been high risk infection patients following the Promised Day. Al for the state of his body and being in what was basically total isolation for years, and Riza because of the blood loss. Sticking the two of them together in a room for a bit just made sense (and gave me an excuse for a touch of Mama Hawk) AO3 || ff.net

__________________________________________________

Quarantine

Alphonse looked out the window and sighed. He could see it all out there. The trees, the grass, the blue sky. The sunlight streamed in through the window, warm and bright, and he basked in it.

But it wasn’t enough.

He wanted to be out there.

He wanted to be in the world.

He wanted to feel it.

He sighed.

“Something wrong, Alphonse?”

The voice that spoke was quiet, rough, light, but it was enough to get his attention, and he looked over at it. Lieutenant Hawkeye was in her bed, a book held in her hands. She was carefully propped up on pillows, her neck supported with a special pillow. Alphonse gave her a smile from the small bench he was sitting on.

“I’m fine, Lieutenant,” he said.

She lowered her book and smiled at him. “Alphonse. You’re not a suit of armor anymore. I can read your face. What’s bothering you?”

Alphonse sighed. “…I’m tired of being in here,” he said. “I want to go outside. I want to feel the grass and the trees and the wind. I want to feel the rain and hear the birds and the sounds with my own ears. After so many years of not feeling anything, I want to get out there and feel it all.”

She smiled at him, an understanding smile. “I get that.  I can only imagine how anxious you’ve been. I won’t go back over what the doctors have told you. But you don’t want you feeling that to be the last thing you feel, do you?”

She was right, and he knew it. After years of his body being kept in what was, as far as they could tell, a sterile environment, they were concerned about his immune system. It was vulnerable, weak, even without the weakened state of his body. They’d put him in quarantine. For anyone to come see him, they had to scrub their hands and gown up. Lieutenant Hawkeye was also at risk for infection after losing nearly half her blood volume, and with all the injuries from the Promised Day, hospital beds had been hard to come by. He supposed that he was lucky that they had decided to give him company by putting her in here with him. At least he wasn’t all alone in his quarantine.

“No, you’re right. It’s just hard. I waited for so long to feel things again. I’m just anxious to do it.” He glanced at the table and the dishes of bland food that were sitting on them. “I’d at least like to eat something with more flavor and substance.”

The Lieutenant laughed, although it was mostly just her breath. “You and me both.”

Alphonse laughed with her. “Maybe soon we both can.”

He wasn’t allowed to eat much more than liquids and very soft food, all of it bland. It was supposed to be to acclimate his stomach to food again. Lieutenant Hawkeye was on a liquid and soft food diet while her neck healed. The doctors were being extra cautious when it came to her neck reopening.

She closed her book, and it caught Al’s attention again. “What were some of the main things you wanted to feel again, when you were waiting to get your body back?”

Al tilted his head, thinking. “…familiar things. Grass. The breeze. The sun. Fur on pets. Hair. The warmth of other people. The feel of a book in my hands.”

She hummed. “Maybe you can feel some of those things. You at least can feel the warmth of the sun there.”

“That’s true,” he said, turning his face to the window again, and closing his eyes for a moment.

“We can’t do much about the grass, the breeze, or fur.” She said after a moment. “But as for the others…”

She trailed off, and Alphonse looked back over at her. She seemed to be thinking. He waited, and after a moment, she started speaking again.

“If you’re up for it, you’re welcome to any of my books here. They’re mostly murder mysteries. If you want to read them, you can.”

He smiled at her. “I’d like that,” he said. “Thank you, Lieutenant.”

“I told you—you can call me Riza,” she said with a smile. Her smile dropped into a bit of a frown, though, as she thought. “As far as hair and the warmth of other people…”

She hesitated a moment, then looked back over at him. “I know that I’m not who you meant, and that I’m not the warmest person around, but if you need some human contact, I’m fine with that. I understand how much the touch of another person can mean. And as for hair, well, it’s hard for me to get the back of my hair and brush it well without straining my neck or moving it too much. I could use some help, if you want to give it.”

Alphonse blinked at her, a little stunned. It wasn’t that he had ever thought of Lieutenant Hawkeye as cold, but she didn’t seem the snuggly type. And he had to wonder what she meant by understanding how much the touch of another person can mean. But still, to let him that close, offer to let him brush her hair—he understood that she was opening up to him.

He grinned, giving her the biggest smile, he could. “I appreciate that Lieu—Riza.” He hesitated. “I… that is… would you mind if I come over there now?”

Her smile softened. “No, not at all.”

Carefully, Alphonse stood up and made his way over the Lieutenant Hawkeye’s bed. He had to move slowly, his muscles still not that strong yet. The lieutenant’s bed was covered with several blankets, and there was stack of books on her bedside table. He looked for a place to sit down, but there wasn’t much need for chairs while they were both quarantined.

“Here—just let me—” She carefully scooted herself over in the bed, taking care of her neck, and gestured for him to join her on the bed. Alphonse did, and he felt her arm go around his shoulders, giving him a squeeze.

It warmed Al’s heart, and he leaned into the hug. It felt warm, safe, good, and he couldn’t help but want to cling back. She allowed it, and they sat like that for several minutes.

“I… I’m sorry, Lieutenant,” he said after a moment. “I know this isn’t quite appropriate—”

She cut him off. “Nonsense,” she said. “Alphonse, I view you and Edward like… I’m not sure of the exact relationship, but like family. Close family. I don’t know if it would be described more as younger brothers or sons, but either way, you’re family. It’s alright if you don’t feel the same way. But know that this doesn’t bother me in the least.”

Alphonse smiled. “No—No, brother and I… He’d never admit it, but we felt like all of you were family too. Especially you and the colonel. After mom… Granny Pinako, she’s not really our Granny, but she feels like one. Teacher was the closest thing we had to a mother after that. But while we’ve been in the military, you’ve been the closet we had to a mom. I think… I think you and Teacher have been good stand in moms for us.”

She was quiet for a moment, but he felt her arm tighten around him.

“…that means a lot to me, Alphonse. I hope I’ve been good to you boys. I didn’t have the best example growing up, but…” she paused. “…Thank you.”

Alphonse snaked an arm around her and gave her a gentle squeeze back. “What were you reading?” he asked her.

“I just started it. It’s about murder on a train on the way to Xing.”

“Sounds interesting.” He paused. “You know… it might be fun to read it together. Want me to read some of it out loud?”

She smiled. “That would be nice.”

Alphonse picked up the book, the lieutenant helping to support it, and started reading it aloud, both of them settled on her bed and under her warm blankets. Al was still anxious to get out of here and experience everything again, but, if he had to be in quarantine, being here with Lieutenant Hawkeye wasn’t so bad.