#Al transmutes his face to have angry eyebrows
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Happy Holidays! ❄️❄️ more from What They Expect please! I love that AU!
continuation of 1 2 3
It’s been well over a year since she’s seen Mustang. Al’s all aflutter about it, and how puberty has her looking like something other than a twelve year old boy, but she’s really not worried. Mustang is so involved with his own shit that he doesn’t have the time to care about hers. It would be a damning quality if it wasn’t exactly what she needed from him.
She is, sort of, a little bit worried about Riza. Not worried as in she actually thinks something is going to happen, but just that if anyone out of Mustang’s little idiot brigade would figure her out, it would be her.
Maes is a distinct possibility, but also not really. The thing that saves her, always, is that no one’s really looking. She’s loud and flashy and angry and no one thinks she’s too short to be a guy because of how sensitive she is about it and no one notices she’s pretty because they’re too busy dealing with her being mad and scowling and, with these guys, she’s got an extra ace up her sleeve.
They think they already know all her secrets.
They know about human transmutation and binding her brother’s soul to a suit of armor and every questionable and terrible thing she’s done since in her pursuit to fix it.
Why the hell would she be lying about her gender? It’s not even a thought in their heads, and if it ever becomes one, they’ll dismiss it before he even has a chance to.
Eden binds her chest tight extra tight, so her chest is nearly flat, and puts on her baggy tank top and giant red coat that hides the way her hips curve and the giant stompy boots that she really does love, sets her face in a familiar scowl, and goes off to war.
If war was child’s play, that is.
“Where have you been?” Mustang demands, towering over her and nostrils flaring.
Well. Sort of towering over her. She must have had a growth spurt, because he’s really only got a couple inches on her, which is sort of hilarious. She hadn’t noticed that he was short before. “Uh, lots of places. Haven’t you been reading my reports?”
She does not laugh in his face at the way his eyebrow ticks. She spends so much time meticulously writing everything down in dedicated code in her travelogues, she really doesn’t have the energy to spare when she gets to her reports for Mustang. Besides, he doesn’t really care what she’s doing, only that it’s big and flashy enough to distract from whatever he’s doing.
Is she supposed to know that? She can’t remember. But it’s so obvious that it doesn’t feel like something that can be a secret.
Then again, the rest of the brass haven’t caught on, so.
“What were you thinking in Liore?” he snaps.
Eden blinks. “Liore? That was forever ago. Did something happen? Rose didn’t mention anything in her last letter.”
“Yes, Edward, it was forever ago, but since you declined to answer my summons to come here and explain yourself, we’re discussing it now,” he says.
God, she’d forgotten how bitchy he gets. “Okay, well that priest guy was pretty strange-“
“I don’t care about the priest!”
She stares. She had to kill the guy twice and he doesn’t care? Honestly, she thinks it’s sort of memorable.
“What were you thinking messing with that river?”
Ed tilts her head to the side. “You’re upset about the river?”
He glares. “Of course I’m upset about the river!”
She bites the inside of her cheek to keep from laughing. Al’s really worried over nothing.
Mustang is never paying attention to the right things.
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I saw a great concept awhile ago and thought I’d practice some armor, hands, action, and panel layouts. It’s right to left, not cause I’m a weeb but because I’m stupid.
#I went wild with the halftone presets#and kinda gave up on the 3rd panel#really I could have spent more time on this#but ow my wrist#and also its hella late#Alphonse Elric#Fmab#Al transmutes his face to have angry eyebrows#he's so hard to draw#I really just put myself through the ringer
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Free Fluff (Because we all need it)
Alright, here it comes. The last one. This is for @fma-angst-week day 7- Illness/Free fluff. I decided on fluff. Warnings: extreme fluffiness Anyways, without further ado, please enjoy!
Everyone knew that Edward Elric had a temper beyond comparison. The child prodigy, Fullmetal Alchemist, and youngest member of the military made up for the lack of his height in the scalding of his anger. If one wished for an early death, he need only to make a snide comment on the alchemist’s verticle issues. There was no doubt that person would soon be visiting the nearest hospital for an expensive treatment. Yep, his short fuse was legendary. Which was why Roy Mustang could not believe his friend, Maes Hughes, for a second.
“It’s impossible,” he stated, voice flat and unamused.
“No, I’m serious, Roy,” Maes argued, leaning over his friend’s desk. “He is the sweetest, most caring person I have ever seen whenever he’s around Elicia.” He clasped his hands, tilting his head to the side. “It’s like my little angel had chased away the devil in him.” He returned to a more stoic expression when all Roy dared to give him was an annoyed huff.
“But seriously,” he continued on. “You need to come see this. You know what, now you have to because I am inviting you to dinner tonight!” He grinned at Roy, innocence on his face masking the mischievous glint in his eyes. Roy groaned, picking a random excuse to shove at Maes.
“Gracia will be making her homemade apple pie,” Maes sang, and Roy’s excuse fell down the drain. He looked up from the document he had been reading, giving as frigid of a glare as he could muster. Maes, that damn ray of sunshine, brushed the icy look away. Roy had no choice.
“Fine,” he sighed. “I’ll be there. And there’d better be pie.” Maes’s grin broadened and he flashed Roy a thumbs up.
“You won’t be disappointed!” Roy wasn’t sure which event he was referring to.
It turns out Roy was promised both. He’d arrived at the Hughes’s home, carrying a bottle of fine wine from Creta and another bottle filled with sparkling juice. He’d figured the younger members of their group who could digest food would enjoy the bubbly beverage. His guess had been proven correct. Elicia had been ecstatic about the “mommy and daddy” drink she was allowed to have, and Ed had described it in as much detail as he could to Al, using descriptions Roy had never heard of.
“It’s like... you know Old Jarson’s wine that he’d let us taste sometimes on special occasions?” Ed had asked, running his tongue over his lips and staring at the glass the fizzy concoction was held in.
“Yeah?”
“Well, it’s kind of like that, but not as sour. And its fizzy like... uh... oh! Like Granny’s special cure for stomachaches.” Al’s armor had clanked as he’d shivered and Ed had quickly waved his hand in reassurance.
“But it tastes way better than that sh-stuff ever did.” He’d glanced at Gracia, giving her an apologetic wince for his near slip-up. She had only given him a reproachful glare (the gentlest punishment Roy had ever seen her give to someone almost cursing in front of Elicia) before returning to her meal and listening to her daughter ramble on about something or other that had happened at her preschool that day.
The evening went on without much of a hitch after that. Gracia’s cooking was, as always, warm and comforting, the atmosphere of the room was devoid of the typical, strained tension that was common when the Fullmetal and Flame Alchemists were trapped in an enclosed space together, and the apple pie was a delicacy sent from a divine entity, Roy was sure. Gracia accepted all of their compliments with tinted cheeks and a delicate wave of her hand.
Once everyone had as much as their stomachs could handle, despite their tongues wishing for more, Elicia popped up in her seat, leaning across the table to stare at Ed with sparkling eyes.
“Edy, Edy, Edy!” Elicia bounced a little with each repetition of the new name. Roy didn’t bother to hide the snicker. Edy? Was this a new nickname the boy had? The amused sound didn’t go unnoticed as Edward shot him a glare that foretold an apocalyptic arrival of that infamous temper.
“Can you teach me more of it?” Elicia asked excitedly. Her mother cleared her throat and sent a prodding look towards her daughter. Elicia turned from Gracia back to Ed and batted her eyelashes, making Maes coo. “Please?” Ed’s gaze slid away from Roy, and with it, the terrifying temper that had simmered beneath the surface. He looked over at Elicia, a soft, excitable grin lighting up his face.
“Sure thing,” he replied. Elicia squealed in delight and leaped from her chair to race around the table and grab Ed’s sleeve. She tugged him away towards the living room, her light giggles mixing with Ed’s amused chuckles.
Roy watched the duo disappear as Gracia gathered the dishes on the table, Alphonse insisting he help. Maes stood and leisurely made his way to his best friend’s side, enjoying the flabbergasted look stuck on his face. He leaned over Roy’s shoulder, smirking.
“Told ya.” Roy only continued to stare at the now empty doorway, blinking.
“He didn’t even do anything,” he murmured, awed. “It was like he was never even angry.” Maes shrugged.
“I told you, it’s like my little angel calmed the devil in him.” The pestering, cooing tone snapped Roy quickly out of his stupor. He groaned as he stood, heading towards the kitchen to see if Gracia or Alphonse needed any help.
“Ah ah ah,” Maes tutted, grabbing his arm as he tried to walk past. “You’re going to want to see this, too,” he said, dragging Roy to the living room. Roy twisted himself around in Maes’s grip before they passed the threshold and immediately caught sight of Edward kneeling on the wooden floor with Elicia. The little girl held a crayon in her hand and her other was plastered over a piece of paper on the ground. Her small tongue was sticking out between her lips as she pressed the crayon to the paper and drew something. When she was finished, she sat up and watched Ed expectantly. He studied the paper, giving a slow nod.
“This is really good,” he praised. Elicia beamed. “You almost got it right.” Elicia immediately deflated, giving a long whine. Ed looked up at her. Roy, in all honesty, had expected those fiery golden eyes to be narrowed in irritation with his lip curled up in a vicious snarl, prepared to bark out obscenities and insults. That’s at least what he usually did whenever Roy was near him and someone had messed up or made a mistake. But his expression now was, in Roy’s opinion, a miracle. His face was open and understanding, his eyes soft and brows unfurrowed. His mouth was turned up a little at the corners, not really making a smile but unable to stay in a flat, tense line.
“Hey, come on now, it’s ok,” Ed soothed the upset girl, placing a hand on her head. “You’ve almost got it. I want you to look really closely now. There’s one line that you forgot, and it’s the most important one. Think you can find it?” Elicia straightened up, giving a very determined nod, leaving Maes a gibbering mess of a puddle, and gave the paper a hard stare, her nose almost brushing it. Ed sat back, waiting for her to puzzle it out. Those warm golden eyes never wavered from Elicia. He didn’t fidget. He never seemed to grow bored or give any verbal sound of annoyance. He simply sat there, watching her with a calm, bemused expression as she continued to stare.
Then, with slow, precise movements, Elicia placed her crayon on the paper and drew a straight line down. She slowly looked up at the boy in front of her, waiting for his response. His eyes remained trained on her paper then rose to meet hers. The smile that broke over his face could have blinded Roy.
“You got it!” he congratulated, earning an excited squeal. She lunged forward, wrapping her tiny arms around Ed’s broader shoulders, giggling ecstatically. Ed’s own laugh joined hers as he placed his hands on her back, his gentle touch barely enough to crease Elicia’s dress. She pulled away from him, snatched up her piece of paper, and ran to Maes.
“Daddy, Daddy, look!” She held it up for him to see. Maes crouched down eye-level to her, taking the paper. Roy looked over his shoulder, eyebrows lowering. It was a picture of a transmutation circle in bright pink. Roy tried to puzzle out what it could possibly be used for, but there were a few shapes and symbols that were odd and unnatural. Surely this couldn’t be a true transmutation, right?
“Oh, my little darling,” Maes crooned, effectively hiding the confusion he was feeling from his voice. “I love it! I’m going to go hang it with the rest of your talented drawings-”
“No!” Elicia grabbed at her father’s hands, shaking her head, tiny pigtails swishing. “No, Daddy. It’s not finished yet.” Maes tilted his head, stammering out an “O-Oh, ok”. Elicia’s head bobbed in a stiff nod as she gently took the paper from his hands. She took a few steps back and placed the paper on the floor again. She put her hands on her hips, lips pursed as she stared at it. She gave another firm nod and turned her head to look back at Ed, still in the same position Roy had last seen him in.
“It’s ready!” Elicia called out cheerfully. A corner of Ed’s smile twitched further up as he hauled himself from his place on the floor. Elicia scrambled to sit in front of the paper, hands held straight over it. Ed knelt down behind her, placing the mismatched hands he had over hers.
“Ready?” Ed murmured to Elicia. “One.”
“Two,” they both mumbled together. “Three.” Their hands fell onto the circle and a small flash of blue light lit up over the paper. It grew in size, almost reaching Elicia’s face. Her eyes squinched shut, the light too bright for her. Ed’s, however, didn’t leave the new, arching shape. Once the light had died down, Elicia opened her eyes, grinning, and looked over the creation towards her father’s face.
“Ta-da!” she sang, spreading her hands for emphasis. Maes and Roy gaped at the thing. It was the words “I love my Daddy” made out of paper in a complex layout and folding pattern that would have put any master origami artist to shame.
“Elicia,” Maes breathed, picking up the gift. “I love it! I’m going to put it right here,” He leaped up to put the paper on top of the mantle above their fireplace, “So everyone who comes in can see it.” Elicia jumped up, clapping her hands. Maes scooped her up, giving her cheeks a flurry of kisses. Ed watched the duo, eyes still as soft as they had been all night with Elicia. But, Roy noted, there was something else under it. An aching, maybe even a longing, for something like what Maes and Elicia had.
Maes called for Gracia and Alphonse, wanting to show them what his darling daughter had created. Ed removed himself from the center of the room as the other two entered, placing himself off to the side with Mustang. His gentle smile was still stuck on his face, eyes never leaving the scene that was spreading out before them.
“How?” It was all Roy could find to say, still puzzling over how vastly different this Edward was compared to the fuming, edgy teenager he was so used to seeing at work. Ed glanced up at him, arching an eyebrow. “How are you so good with her?” It was the best way Roy could ask his question without saying ‘How can you withhold such a large temper in such a small body?’ Ed looked away from him with a shrug.
“Al and I had to figure out the basic steps of alchemy together,” he replied. “Sometimes I’d have to help him understand some of it better. Less chance of it rebounding against him.” He shifted his feet, crossing his arms.
“And there was Nina,” he added, eyes dropping to his shoes. “She liked alchemy, but her... Tucker never really took the time to teach her.” He shrugged again, shoving whatever thoughts and memories he had away. “Between the two of them, I learned what worked and what didn’t.” He looked up at Roy out of the corner of his eye. “Like screaming and insulting a kid doesn’t do anything for them. It just makes them want to give up and not try it anymore.” Roy blinked, surprised the question he hadn’t dared to ask had been answered.
“If that’s so,” Roy started, giving Ed a skeptical look. “Then why do you yell and curse all of the adults whom you so eloquently call ‘Idiots’?” Ed’s smirk was sharp and showed his teeth.
“It’s ‘cause, compared to all of you Idiots, kids are freaking geniuses.”
Roy found he could only spit out flustered noises that thankfully went mostly unheard beneath Maes’s gushing praises and Elicia’s euphoric giggles.
Wow, last one. Woohoo! Thank you all for reading this prompt as well as all my other little drabbles. I hope you all enjoyed them!
#fmaangstweek#fma#fullmetal alchemist#edward elric#roy mustang#maes hughes#gracia hughes#elicia hughes#alphonse elric#fluff#illness/free fluff#my fic#my writing
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at the center of the world (5)
tag || ao3 || ffn
Amestris becomes a harrowingly silent place on the afternoon of the Promised Day and only the survivors at the center are left to tread over it. Within a few hours, they won’t be the only ones wandering. The sacrifices are rising and leaving Central is more dangerous than the looming threat of invading armies.
Rated: M. it’s a horror/zombie au fic. - or it tries to be Warnings: Gore! Blood. The whole shebang for Zambeez
Chapter 5/11
Alphonse
Alphonse grew up listening to comparisons made between him and his brother. It notably narrowed down to the peculiar color of their eyes and hair, rich and golden like the desert sun, and the attunement to their prodigious understanding of alchemy.
It was said Alphonse Elric was patient where his brother was rash, that regarded others with a gentler compassion where Edward was brash, and generally, an optimist down to his soul. It had been a beacon of pride for him. Humility and approachability were traits people loved about their mother and to be seen as such, when they hardly look like her, created a warm spot in the cold hollow of his armor. Throughout the day - in his bouts of straying consciousness, he wondered if there was such a thing as too much optimism, and if he was just wrong about everything. That created a chilling spot in the warmth of his flesh body.
Alphonse thought about everyone he met, he laughed with, and held conversations. The people he knew little insignificant tidbits about, the smiles he had seen, the connections he had felt because of all of this. Not physically, but in his soul. He thought about them and each time he did his lip trembled and his throat became irritatingly tight as he was no longer used to have physical reactions to emotions. But this was the truth now: everyone he came in contact with during his journey - anyone who wasn't sitting in this room - wouldn't be able to celebrate with his accomplishment of regaining his body. He tried not to think of Resembool, fearing he'd spiral into something darker, and the day they had lost everyone somehow worsened.
Someone - or something - climbed through the window of his second floor hospital room and Al functioned on pure adrenaline to save his life and May's. He wished he could cement the idea then and there that it was animalistic and not human. He felt conflicted arriving on that moral decision considering he was without a flesh body up until a few hours ago.
And that was the thing, Alphonse felt nothing but anxiety since leaving his armored body behind at the military grounds. He was frail, weak. He was now made of flesh and bone, not of metal and a bloodseal He couldn't keep nutrients down and while he knew to expect this, he felt like a letdown to everyone. Nerves were on edge after what they saw this afternoon and he could pick it out like weeds around the hallway where they had all gathered the first night.
After the sun ducked under the horizon, the hospital lights shining down on the street had attracted the sacrifices, or so they decided to call them. They had tapped against the pale-red brick until the group ultimately decided to kill the lights. It would have been easier to just completely block out the had made a fire in the middle of the wing.
Colonel Mustang sat with them near the fire created from medical files and wooden clipboards to cook their evening meal. He, Brother and Teacher, they all had the same contemplative look on them – or perhaps it was shock. Their gazes were glossed over from the flames burning meekly in the spring nighttime.
Darius leaned against a wall, one foot propped against it, arms tightly crossed. Jerso donned a white patch right side of his skull. The chimera had lost his ear and they lost Zampano.
Al shifted his eyes away from the disturbed chimera. A loud thump startled him back to Darius's direction. A balled fist created an indent to the wall behind it.
"This is ridiculous. We are sitting ducks!" The gorilla chimera paced anxiously.
Jerso stirred from his seat on the floor, watching Darius warily. Drowsiness clouded his eyes, a side effect of the medicine administered for his missing ear, but caution alerted them.
"You saw those things. Whatever that was was. It's just like the mannequins in that white room. They move the same way, they don't think!" His voice boomed and bounced off the walls. "What do we do about what's out there?"
Alphonse clenched his fists weakly, an answer - for once - not springing immediately to his mind. Brother hadn't moved from his gaze into the fire, but his shoulders were tensed and the bridge of his nose was crinkled slightly.
Darius twisted on his heels to face the Colonel and marched for him.
Lieutenant Hawkeye twisted her body to reach for a sidearm. They exchanged glares; the animosity still hanging from this afternoon.
"Where's your plan now, Colonel?" His large arms were thrown up in the air with exasperation; he spoke an octave louder and with pause in between his words. The Colonel didn't flinch even as the chimera . This seemed to frustrate Darius even more.
Darius opened his mouth to speak again and loud thuds banged against the wall behind the transmuted door.
"Lower your voice."
"Or what? Is Colonel Mustang afraid that those things will break through the wall and get us?" He taunted.
"Lower - your - voice." The Colonel iterated dangerously.
"Darius, stop it, man." Jerso supplied, his eyebrows knit in concern and maybe fright. "We're all just scared here. Nobody could have seen this coming."
Darius inhaled deeply, chest extending and glaring around the room. He lifted his arms and balled fists pounded at his chest. The chimera opened his mouth to release a distinctive, ululating yell several notches louder than his speaking voice.
Alphonse covered his ears and winced, not entirely used to registering sound physically.
Teacher and the Lieutenant sprung up with the former quickly materializing a dagger with alchemy and the latter producing a handgun from her holster. Darius stopped immediately, putting his hands up.
"We don't care if you feel like acting a fool and putting your own life at risk," Teacher warned. "But don't endanger the rest of us`
"Fine," He spat, glancing towards the amphibian chimera. "Let's go Jerso."
Jerso tilted his head at the mention at his name. "Where are you going?"
"Away from here. I say we have better chances out there than stuck like canned meat in here."
Jerso shook his head. "I don't know." It was the first time Al heard him stammer. "You didn't see these things the way I did. If they're anything like those mannequin soldier - I don't want a repeat of the white room. It was the fire colonel who saved us, remember? Not even the twerp stood a chance."
Brother didn't stir.
Jerso bowed his head towards his bent knees, running hands over the braided dreads down the length of his scalp. "And if they got Zampano…"
The tall man pursed his lips, anger and fear flashing through his face. "Suit yourself." He walked over to the window, working on yanking the bolted wood panels off the walls. "You alchemists can fix this right up, right? Just like you fixed me?"
No one responded. Alphonse's heart went out to him. He empathized with Zampano and jerso back in Baschool. But there was nothing to say. The people who he wanted to be angry with were dead; quite possibly walking the streets.
Small feet broke the tense silence as May approached the firelight. He gave her a knowing, appreciative smile whenever he saw her. Alphonse was told of her persistence in helping get through the first few hours, but it was that same persistence that miraculously had him out of bed. "What's going on?"
"Darius wants to leave," Jerso whispered to her. "I think he's scared, little girl."
"I am not scared!" Darius roared. "I just want to live! Without a cage."
They all jumped from the nails ripping from the walls. Some clinked as the metal scattered on the floor.
"Enjoy your trapped existence." was the last thing he said before he hopped out the window.
The silence following Darius's departure hung over them, like a thick humidity, and uncomfortable. Teacher stood up, lifting the slatted barricade and Hawkeye went to help her reattach it. Undoubtedly, it was an easy feat for Teacher. Time, energy, and sound spared by the clap of two hands.
"How is Scar faring, May?" Teacher asked as the two rejoined them around the dying fire.
May fumble with her fingers and her eyes focused on the floor. She released a sigh, "I don't know what's wrong with Mr. Scar. He's warm with fever. I've given him what I know to stop try and bring it down. I've placed a wet towel over his head, but he's unconscious. And I really don't know why."
The Colonel perked. "What happened with Scar?"
"One of the bodies exploded." Brother looked down focusing on the floor as if the scene played on the tile in front of him. He wrung his hands. Alphonse noticed the fluidity of his automail was not all there, but Brother continued, "Something shrouded around him. I don't know what it was. Unnatural if I had to describe it and then Scar collapsed after a few seconds. It was a close call."
Confused, the Colonel frowned, "A gas?"
"A mist or something, yeah," Brother responded and the older man didn't say anything more, turning pensive.
"Did you check his lungs?" Teacher asked.
May nodded at Teacher, looking up with eyes that made Alphonse sad. "He's breathing fine. My medical knowledge only goes so far. His chi flow isn't blocked like when I tended to his wounds this morning."
"May," Mustang called calmly.
After a moment May answered, "Yes?"
"You've mentioned chi and life force before right now."
"It's the basis to Alkahestry."
"Can you sense anything in these things?" The Colonel asked.
"What are you thinking?" Teacher interjected May's response.
He leaned back into his chair, kicking one leg over the other. "Why the dead would rise. Most of this room knows full well the impossibility of the scenario."
Al glanced over to Hawkeye, staring at her commanding officer and unsure if he picked up a sadness in her eyes. It was hard to tell from the limited light.
"Judging by the way that they burn, I'm assuming they look nothing like the mannequin soldier we encountered?"
"No," Brother said, stirring out of his silence. "They used to be human. They were once living humans, but now…" He struggled. "Now, I don't know."
"Then we find ourselves in a dead nation with its citizens suddenly rising up." The Colonel said grimly. His greyed eyes looked into the fire with a focused determination.
Alphonse mused he could probably feel the warmth of the fire on his face; it almost convinced Alphonse that Mustang could see again.
"They are another form of mannequin soldiers," he continued. "But what's animating them?"
"I don't sense anything different about them, not from what I've seen." May answered his question from before."
"And this isn't something you see with your eyes?"
"No, it's more like instinct, but if I concentrate then I can sense it."
Mustang breathed out, "Can you teach me what you know?"
May looked at him thoughtfully, at the others, himself, and then back to the Colonel. "I can try."
"What do you two know about it?"
In Aspec, Al remembered his feeble attempt to learn Alkahestry and their source derived from "chi", "life force", and "the Dragon's pulse". All three turned out to be synonymous. He wondered then if it was it's lack of tangibility that made it difficult for him, or if it veered on the spiritual type of science that Alphonse simply didn't attune well with.
Alphonse jumped again in his wheelchair before he could speak. An earsplitting yell rung through the streets, rattling him and the others. But it was getting nearer.
"Let me in! Let me back in!"
Heads turned towards the window and it took a moment for all of them to realize the cries for help came from Darius whose voice had heightened several octaves.
Brother and Teacher scrambled to give Darius an entryway, collectively realizing why he needed help.
Just like his persistence, his curiosity knew no bounds and his feet touched the cold of the hospital floor despite the warmth of the faltering fire. May stirred from his sudden movement as one hand held onto the IV stand. He took slow steps and his slow approach still managed to jolt his brother and the Lieutenant out of their stupor from watching. He noticed how none of them moved to assist him outside of the building. As if they were grounded by a fear neither of them had known.
He slowly pivoted his head from his brother to the view past the window panes.
Darius was several blocks away, running with all his might. Behind him several bodies moved with impressive speed and a mob moved at a snail's pace behind him, like the foot soldiers to the cavalry charging ahead.
Immediately, he noticed how none of them moved to assist him outside of the building. As if they were grounded by a fear none of them had known before, like an instinct deep down urged them to remain where if they were to keep their lives. With the little strength Alphonse gathered from only a day, he felt it down to his bones.
The running sacrifices looked terrifying, spastically moving forward in a way that wasn't practical but they gained ground on the chimera nonetheless.
Breaking the fear-wrought silence, Brother extended his hand out, shouting in the encouraging, heart-thumping way that he does, "We've got you, Mr. Gorius! Run!"
The chimera, responding to the encouragement, picked up the speed of his sprint and prepared himself for a lunge only a chimera could accomplish.
However, a millisecond before he did, something from the shadows jumped out of the alley and tackled him to the ground. The manner in which it opened its mouth should have broken the joint at its mandible but it bit down on Darius's neck. Darius's arms and legs spastically shot out before he tried to claw the sacrifice off his neck.
In the cast of only the moonlight, Alphonse saw the blood that spilled towards the sky. Any of them looking out the window saw him reaching out towards them pleading them to help him. The front lines of the mob moved in on him and his screams were wretched and pained. Al couldn't see Darius any more as the rest of them moved in on him. They clawed and ate as the survivors watched from the second story window of Central's only hospital.
He screamed until they tore out his throat.
#fmabb17#fma fanfiction#fullmetal alchemist#alphonse elric#atcotw#zombie au#skdfjnjek#there's a graphic death in here#oops#i mean#there's more to come#and suspense.#SORRY FOR POSTING SO MUCH ALL AT ONCE SDFJRJENGJ#I HAVE A LOT TO DO#GJRENGJEKRNGEJKGNJKD#:'D *scuttles away to watch stranger things*#(I went without a beta for this one. All the errors are mine!)#short chapter oops#*shine#fma
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I’m just gonna slide in here with an AU I’ve been wanting to write for a while for FMA, where The Elric brothers are half Isvhalan—yes, it’s been done before, but fight me, I want to make my own Ishvalan culture. Which... would be why I spent three hours today researching the ecology of the deserts of Israel and Saudi Arabia instead of doing my homework, and found some very interesting things about cacti, jackals, and succulents, not necessarily in that order. But I digress.
All you need to know for this story bit: Ed has gold eyes but otherwise looks Ishvalan, Nina is currently alive, Scar is an angst bucket living with a chimera in an abandoned house in the outskirts of East City. That’s explained, but not here.
—§§§—
Scar doesn’t say anything, worried as he is about Ed’s sudden idleness. Worried, but mostly sorrowful. He didn’t truly expect them to find a way to save the girl—he knew he was trading her peace for the chance of some tenuous connection to his people. That sin is one he has acknowledged, but the boys will have a harder time. He knows they will.
But he’s at a loss as to how he might guide a young spirit through grief. He never found the way himself.
Ed’s pencil tapping stills, finally, and he stares distantly at floor, the stripes of light where light slips between the boarded windows.
“Brother?” Al shifts as though in discomfort, though Scar is, at last, positive that the boy has no tactile sense of his mockery of a body. “Is the research going alright?”
For a moment, Ed is still as a priest’s vigil. The picture is broken abruptly as he dumps his book onto the floor with an explosive sigh. “The guy who wrote this book is an idiot and no one else has any better ideas, and seeing as I’m not gonna experiment on chimeras when it’s probably gonna kill them or worse, it’s—“ He looks up at the ceiling, anger in the tense line of his jaw. “The research is going fucking awful. I’ve got no idea how to fix her.”
Nina whines and shuffles closer to him, affected by his upset. She noses at his shirt with a tortured “Ed—ward?” and Ed wordlessly raises his flesh hand to pet her mane without looking down.
“I’m sure we’ll find something,” Al says quietly.
Ed snorts and shakes his head, finally looking down at the chimera as she lowers her head into his lap. “You’d think we’d have learned our lesson about human transmutation, Al.”
The gauntlets clench. “This isn’t the same thing!”
“Nah, you’re right,” Ed agrees easily. “Doesn’t mean it isn’t just as hopeless.”
Ed glances sidelong at Scar. His smirk has that peculiar hopeless twist to it that Scar has already seen on too many young Ishvalans—it hurts more than he expected to see it on this face, too.
“You must think we’re pathetic,” Ed murmurs. “We talk big, promise we can fix her, and—we’re still just human.” Ed tugs at the glove on his right hand, a sliver of automail showing at his wrist. “If that.” He gives a humorless laugh.
“You’re human,” Scar says quietly. That is one thing the Amestrians cannot take away from his people.
Ed’s gaze is unreadable. “You ever heard the story of Icarus?” he says. Scar shakes his head, and he continues, “It’s a great story. Some genius hero made himself wings out of wax and bird feathers. Flew way up into the sky—I’m not sure why, he never told anyone, because he got too close to the sun, and the wax melted, his wings fell apart, and he fell to the earth.” He pauses, deliberately, and adds, “I wonder if while he was falling, he had that horrible realization that he was only human. You know, before he was just dead.”
Al makes a tiny, gutted sound, but he doesn’t say a word.
The challenge in Ed’s golden gaze feels molten in Scar’s gut, and for the first time in a very long time, he feels a thought like a desert breeze, like a whisper from Ishvala. “That reminds me of a story my people used to tell during the storms”
Ed raises one pale eyebrow. “You tell stories during rainstorms?”
“Sandstorms,” Scar corrects. “And yes. When the storms come, you must seek shelter and stay there until they pass. We tell stories while they remain. Do you wish to hear this one?”
Ed’s eyes narrow, but Al’s shoulder’s aren’t quite so slumped, and for a suit of armor he looks almost curious. “Sure,” Ed says. “Why not.”
It’s been years since Scar has told a story, but sitting across from an Ishvalan boy ready to burn, it comes back to him more quickly than he had thought. He settles into it, sitting in the lotus position with his wrists resting on his knees, and takes a deep breath. “This is a story of Elozhih the Trickster, the child of Ishvala who has as many shapes as there are grains of sand.” The traditional opener for the tales of Elozhih. Perhaps it’s his imagination, but Scar thinks it’s quieter outside this little hut, suddenly; he knows it’s wishful thinking that hears a soft whistle of wind and the shush of sand against the walls. This would be a horrible place to wait out a sandstorm, anyhow, with the gaps in the boards over the windows and the door that doesn’t quite settle in its frame.
“Long ago, before the People had fire, Elozhih was walking along one evening as the sun was ready to sink below the horizon, and came across a tribe of the desert people that traveled the dunes. They were gathering hides and weavings and huddling close together with their neighbors. Elozhih, puzzled by their grim faces, took the shape of an old, weary traveler, and approaching the desert people as one under Ishvala, asked them why they huddled together so bleakly.
“‘It is cold when the sun goes down,’ they said, ‘for he takes the fire of the day with him when he goes to sleep. And as our moon-sister’s cycle fades, we cannot see in the night to find each other, so we must stay close together.’
“When Elozhih heard this, he frowned and watched the sun-brother as he took his fire past the horizon to where he slept in the night. ‘This is the cruelty of our elder brother,’ he said. ‘My brothers, my sisters, may I stay the night within your warmth and safety?’
“The desert people agreed, and shared their hides and weavings with the Trickster. When the morning came, the sun rising with his fire into the sky, Elozhih thanked the desert people for their hospitality and walked away across the sands.
“When he was out of sight, Elozhih turned into a bird and flew up to the sun.
“As he came close, the sun-brother burned brighter with rage, for not even the moon-sister dared shine next to him when he was in the sky. ‘Who dares to fly into my domain?’ he demanded. ‘Don’t you know that I can cast you down as easily as your feathers burn?’
“But Elozhih did not seem to care. ‘Your might is indeed great, sun-brother,’ he said, ‘but I care not for your burning. I wish to see the sky beyond your fire.’ And the Trickster flew even higher, until he was nearly at the height of the sun.
“The sun was angry with Elozhih and reached out a hand to strike him from the sky. Elozhih dived, but still the sun touched his tail, setting the feathers alight with fire, and Elozhih screed as if in fright and flew swiftly back to the sands of the desert.
“When the Trickster landed, near the people who had been so kind to him during the cold night before, he used the fire on his feathers to light one of their hides, and then the sand to extinguish the fire that burned him still. The desert people saw this fire, and there went up a joyous shout, and they said, ‘who is it who brings the fire here?’
“Elozhih took the shape of the old traveler he had worn the night before, but his burned tail now formed burned legs. Still the desert people recognized his face. ‘Favored of Ishvala, I am Elozhih the Trickster, and I am he who tricks the cruel to bring relief to those harmed. I have brought the fire here, to you who were so kind to another of Ishvala’s children. Use it well, and use it kindly.’
“And he turned into rik-naram, the burned hawk with its red tail, and flew away.”
The peace in telling a Trickster Elozhih story after so long has sunk into Scar’s bones, and it isn’t until the last word dies in the air that he truly looks at the boys again. Al is utterly still, mimicking Scar’s posture in rapt attention.
Ed grips his automail wrist tightly, eyes wide and jaw clenched. When the silence stretches, he starts, roughly, “That’s—“ He stops, swallowing, and lets go of his wrist, the movement abrupt like he nearly had to pry his own fingers off the metal. He continues, voice flat, “That doesn’t sound a whole lot like Icarus.”
Scar raises his eyebrows. “Does it not?” But he knows what that internal battle looks like, even now. So he waits.
“A hero flew too close to the sun,” Al says softly, “and was burned.” His helmet tilts toward his brother. “That sounds like Icarus to me.”
Ed growls and glares at Scar. “Sure, but it’s not—“ He seems to lose the ending of the sentence and just glares harder. “Icarus’ arrogance killed him. That Trickster just—“ He waves his automail arm, apparently to wordlessly describe what Elozhih just did, but he swiftly tucks the arm back under his flesh one like trying to hide a burn.
“Edward,” Scar says quietly. “Who did you burn for?”
The blood drains from Ed’s face and he stands abruptly. Nina yips as her headrest vanishes, but Ed doesn’t falter as he storms out the door. Al starts and aborts a call after his brother and gets to his feet with a glance in Scar’s direction. He stops to pet Nina’s head briefly before taking off after Ed.
Scar is left in an old, abandoned house with an abomination of a doomed girl. Nina shuffles over to him and rests her head timidly on his knee, and Scar gently strokes her mane. With his left hand, not his right—he won’t send her to peace, yet. He doubts the Elric boys have truly given up.
If Ed comes back. But Scar finds himself oddly unworried; the boy has been burned, but he is Al-Rik, of the clan of the hawk, and Elozhih always returns to his people when he has flown away.
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Revenge
Another big brother William one shot. Enjoy.
It all started with an experiment. That was it. A harmless little test with a bit of misplaced curiosity. Neither William nor Edward realized how far it would go. It was a monday morning when it all began. Edward was passed out on the Couch, a book covering part of his face and half a blanket draped over his stomach and left leg. The rest of it had pooled on the floor in front of the sofa. The teenager snored loudly, his mouth hanging wide open. It was the only indicator that he was not as dead to the world as he appeared. His older brother watched with amusement from a short distance away. The idiot had fallen asleep researching again. This was probably the third time this week. He sighed as he walked over to his younger brother. He really had to talk to him about pushing himself too much. He would just let him sleep, but the kid had to report to the colonel’s office in roughly an hour, so he had no choice but to rouse the tired teen from his slumber and face his morning grumpiness. “Hey,” William said, roughly shaking his shoulder, “Come on, sleeping beauty. Time to get up.” Ed’s bleary eyes opened and he pulled the book off his face to glare at Will. He groaned and turned on his side. “No…” he muttered, “Need sleep. Go away.” “Sorry pipsqueak, can’t let you do that,” he said, leaning on the couch, “You gotta meet with the colonel in an hour.” Edward glared at him again before pulling the blanket over him more. “Don’t care,” he grumbled, “Sleep is more important.” William raised an eyebrow before pulling the blanket off of Edward. “Well then you should have thought of that before staying up until two in the morning researching,” he retorted, causing Ed to sit up and grimace at him. “Come on, brother,” Al said from where he was washing dishes, “Will and I made a really nice breakfast for you! It’ll get cold if you wait any longer.” Edward huffed before yawning and stretching. “Fine…” he muttered as he got to his feet and shuffled to the table, muttering as he did so. Alphonse handed him a plate of eggs and a bowl of oatmeal with honey. He mumbled a thank you to him as he started stirring the sweet, syrupy substance into the oats. His head bobbed a few times as he blinked to try and wake himself up more. “Hey Will?” he said, “Is there any coffee left from last night?” “Yes, but I warn you, it’s cold,” he said as he moved to the fridge. “Don’t care,” Ed said, not even looking up as he took the first bite of his meal, “Need caffeine.” William smiled mischievously. “Alright then,” he said as he pulled a container from the refrigerator that neither younger sibling could see the contents of it. He quickly poured it out into into a cup and handed it Edward. The boy didn’t even glance at it as he brought the cold brown liquid to his mouth as he took a sip. He immediately did a spit take as his squeezed his eyes shut in disgust. What the hell was this?! It was definitely not coffee. It tasted like chocolate, which he didn’t mind, but there was a distinctive other taste to it. One he hated above all else. “Brother? Are you alright?” Alphonse asked, worry clear in his voice, “What’s wrong?” “WHAT THE HELL?!” he cried, glaring at his brother who was snickering at his reaction, “What the heck was that for?!” “Sorry, Ed,” William said still looking very amused,“I wanted to see if you’d be willing to drink chocolate milk instead because it doesn’t taste like milk.” “Of course it still tastes like milk! It’s milk!”he said, “Just because you try to hide it behind chocolate flavoring doesn’t mean I can’t taste it! Ugh!” He brushed his tongue against his shirt sleeve, trying to rid himself of the taste. “Why did you have to do this when I was half awake of all times? That’s just mean!” “It was kind of a dirty trick, Will,” Alphonse said. “Well would you have tried it if I told you what it was?” his brother asked, pouring him a glass of actual coffee, “I don’t think so. Besides, it woke you up didn’t it?” Ed just glared at him, causing the older brother to chuckle slightly. “Alright, fine! I’m sorry,” he said, bringing the glass over to him, “Here’s your real coffee. Happy now?” “No,” Edward said, taking it from him, “I’ll get you back for this, you know.” Will rolled his eyes. “Sure you will,” he said before turning back to him with a devilish smirk, “By the way, you do know that caffeine stunts growth, right? Maybe you should cut back on the coffee.” Will snorted as he had to dodge Ed’s spoon that came flying towards him. Alphonse sighed at his brothers’ behaviours. …. Edward continued to be angry with Will all that morning, avoiding him for the most part. Will supposed he deserved it a little, but it was annoying nonetheless. Alphonse was also a bit annoyed by the situation. Ed was being a little childish over the whole situation, but he supposed half of Ed’s foul mood towards his brother was his sleep deprivation. He was being a little grumpy towards everyone to be completely honest. However, about half way through the day, Edward’s tune changed as he seemed bit more upbeat. Once he had gotten back to the dorm, Alphonse noticed a small grin never left his face, even when he was focused on research. “You seem awfully happy today brother,” he noted, “Did something happen over lunch to cheer you up?” Ed smiled wider as he looked to him. “I suppose so,” he said, “I just had a really great idea.” “Oh really?” Al said sitting up, “What was it about?” All of a sudden, William walked in, carrying the groceries in with him. The boy in the suit of armor couldn’t help but notice the mischievous glint in Edward’s eyes as he glanced at him. “You’ll see,” he said in a low voice. Alphonse couldn’t help but feel a sense of dread at that statement. “Hey Will,” he called, “How was the store?” The older blond paused as he was taken aback by Edward’s apparent change in demeanor. He blinked before smiling. Looks like he was finally over the whole chocolate milk incident. “Good,” he said, “I managed to get a few good deals on fresh vegetables, not that it matters too much considering your salary, Ed.” He then noticed there was a tea kettle on the stove. He noticed there wasn’t any steam rising from it anymore but one touch to the spout told him the tea wasn’t quite cold yet. “Hey, mind if I have some?”he asked. Alphonse saw Ed’s mouth twitch slightly before he said, “Go ahead.” The suit glanced between the kettle and Edward nervously before leaning down and hissing to him, “Ed! What did you do to the tea?!” Edward blinked up at his younger brother innocently, still smiling before sitting up. “Nothing!” he whispered, before picking up his own cup from the table, “I just wanted some tea, is that so wrong?” He then took a sip from the cup to prove his point that he didn’t tamper with the liquid. Alphonse still eyed him suspiciously before glancing back at his eldest brother with worry. William had already poured himself a cup and had grabbed two sugar packets from the container on the table before ripping them open and stirring them in. Once he had done so, he brought the cup to his lips and took a sip…only to immediately spit out the drink again, sputtering and gagging to get the taste of salt off his tongue. Edward laughed in the background at his older brother’s misfortune. “What’s wrong, Will?” He sneered, “Not sweet enough for you?” William turned to glare at his little brother. “What the hell Ed!”he snapped, marching up to him, “What did you do to the tea?!” Edward gave him a faux offended look. “What?”he cried, “How could you say something like that? I did nothing to your tea!” He picked up his own glass, taking another drink. William’s eyes widened in realization before they narrowed. “You little brat!” He growled as his fists clenched, “You switched out all the sugar in the packets for salt!” Edward glared at him. “Don’t call me small!” He hissed, “And don’t get mad at me! You started this! Nots so fun getting tricked into drinking something is it?” Edward rose to his full height. The two glared at each other with equal animosity, daring the other to make the next move. “Guys! Stop this!” Al cried, moving between them, “There’s no reason to fight over this! Can’t you just call it even?” Both brothers backed off, calming down considerably. “You’re right,” William said with a sigh as he crossed his arms, “I kinda had this coming. I should just let it go.” Alphonse relaxed at his words before he suddenly smirked. “Too bad I suck at letting go of thing,” he said with a wicked smirk, “There’s no way I’m letting you get the last laugh here, Ed.” He then leaned down slightly to look Ed dead in the eye. “Prepare yourself, pipsqueak, because I’m taking your little tea stunt as a declaration of war!” “What?! No! Please tell me you aren’t serious!” Alphonse cried, but neither listened to him. Edward grinned in response, determination clear in his eyes. “Do your worst,” he responded, crossing his arms. Alphonse sighed as he looked between the two stubborn blonds, realizing there was nothing he could do. … And so the great prank war between the two commenced. It started out small with things like Ed dying William’s hair green in his sleep or William washing Ed’s white gloves with his red coat, but quickly escalated: Ed transmuting the croutons in William’s salad into baking soda so they would fizz out all over his meal when he poured vinegar over them, William filing down the platforms of Ed’s shoes so he’d lose an inch in height, Ed making all of William’s pens write only in invisible ink, William telling Armstrong that it was Ed’s birthday so he would try to hug him, and so on. After a while they seemed less like pranks and more like actual attacks in some sort of weird battle… Alphonse hoped they would stop this before it went too far, however his hopes were in vain when he came home from the library one day only to find William, looking absolutely furious, attempting to chase down his brother while only wearing a towel around his waist and he was dripping with some kind of brown substance. “GET BACK HERE RUNT!”he shouted as Ed lept over the couch and ran towards the door. William stopped before he accidentally ran out into the public hallway and glowered at Ed who was smirking evilly at him from just outside the entryway. Al glanced between them both in fear and confusion. “Stop smirking like that! It’s not funny!” He snapped. “You’re right,” Ed said with a chuckle, “It’s hilarious.” “Grrrr!” William growled, trying to grab him and pull him back in side, “Get in here, you little shrimp!” “I’m not a shrimp!” “Guys stop it!” Al finally shouted, “What on Earth has gotten into you two?!” William pointed at Edward accusingly. “The kid put gravy powder in the shower head!”he explained, “I got doused in the stuff when I turned it on and now I’ve got no way to clean it off! I’m going to smell like gravy for days! I can’t even put clothes on without getting grease all over them!” “That’s what you get for sicking the Major on me!” Ed retorted. “Oh come on, that wasn’t that bad! He probably would have hugged you anyways,” William argued, “This is far worse than that, and you know it!” “I beg to differ!” “Stop it, both of you!” Al shouted, “This is gone on long enough. Please, can’t you just and this stupid war already?” Both were silent for a moment before Will spoke up. “Alright,” he said, “I’ll end it.” Alphonse sighed in relief. “I’ll end it with one final attack.” Alphonse raised his hands in questioning and frustration. “THAT’S NOT ENDING IT!” he snapped, “That is the exact opposite of ending it!” “No it is,” William said, a devilish smile spread across his face, “Because it will be so devastating, you’ll never want to get back at me again for fear of something worse!” Al looked at his brother nervously, feeling the need to back off at his malicious look. Ed, however, merely scoffed as he smirked back. “I doubt that,” he said. “Brother! Don’t egg him on!” Al hissed to Ed. “Oh believe it,” William warned, “You’re gonna regret that little shower thing. Trust me.” He said before stalking back to the bathroom. Edward would never admit it, but he was mildly troubled by the evil look in his eyes. However, he felt if he just kept on his guard he’d be fine. And for a while he was. The days came and went and nothing seemed to happen. He kept his guard up for a full two weeks before forgetting about the silly little war, and it appeared that William had forgotten too…That was, at least until Lieutenant Colonel Hughes dropped by East City. Edward sighed as he half listened to the man rant about his family. He had been going on for a full fifteen minutes, talking about the girl’s second birthday. “Look at this one!”he said, “Look at her using the fork to eat her birthday cake! Isn’t she just adorable with that frosting on her nose?” “Yeah…Sure…” Ed said rolling his eyes. They then lit up as they caught sight of William walking towards them with a satchel. He breathed a sigh of relief. At least now he didn’t have to suffer this alone. Hughes was a great guy, but sometimes he wished he would stop his motor mouth for a bit. “William!” He called to his sibling, “Good to see you. Care to join us?” He gave his brother a pleading look. William smirked wickedly in response, which confused his younger sibling. “Oh of course,” he said, “I was actually looking for you, Hughes!” The man looked surprised while Ed furrowed his brow. What was he up too? He didn’t have time to ask, as he immediately sat down on the opposite side of Maes Hughes. “Really?”he asked, “Why was that?” “Oh I had something very special to show you,”he said, evil smirk never leaving his face, “After all, you show us so many pictures of your family I thought it was high time I showed you some of ours!” Maes gave a slightly confused but intrigued look while Ed looked alarmed. What was he talking about? What pictures? His alarm suddenly turned to horror as he saw William look him directly in the eye as he pulled out a very familiar baby blue binder. The one his mother had compiled all of his and Al’s baby photos in. “W-Where did you get that?!”he questioned, eyes fixated on it. “Oh, I just asked Pinako to send it up!”he said innocently, “She’s kept it in great condition, you know. I don’t think there’s a single one missing.” He then turned to the black haired man, “So would you like to see them?” “Oh sure!” Hughes said. “No DON’T!” Ed shouted trying to reach over the table to try and grab it. Will moved it slightly out of reach and Edward found his small body half splayed over the table. The cafeteria suddenly became silent as all eyes were on him. He glanced around and mentally cursed as the many pairs of eyes on him. Crap. If he drew too much attention to them, he’d have more than just Hughes getting a peek at those pictures. “Its there something wrong Ed?” Hughes asked, clearly worried. Ed suddenly moved back into his seat before laughing nervously. “Oh no! It’s nothing!” he said, “But William, do you really want to pull out such an…important family album on this dirty cafeteria table? The photos could get ruined.” “Nah, they’ll be fine,” he assured, “They’re all laminated. Nothing’s gonna hurt them.” Edward glared darkly at his brother as he flipped open the album. “Now let’s see…Where to begin,” he said as he flipped through it until he found a page, “Oh look! Here’s Ed when he was two! For Dad’s birthday he tried to make him a pie..out of mud. Needless to say, neither Mom nor Dad were happy when he tried to bring it inside to serve, but it’s the thought that counts.” Edward blushed furiously at this, looking away. “And here’s him when he was three!”he pointed to another picture of the little boy in oversized clothing, “He was going through a pirate phase at the time, so he decided to dress up as one. He ended up borrowing my boots and Dad’s jacket for his outfit. He couldn’t find an eyepatch so he made one for himself out of a tube sock.” Maes gave an amused look at the photo of the extremely proud looking boy with a sock tied over his eye. “Aww…” he said, “That’s adorable…” Ed on the other hand did not think so, as he was gritting his teeth, glaring daggers at his older brother. “And here’s him on his first birthday…” he pointed out the picture of the boy eating his cake, “How he got frosting in his hair I’ll never know…” Edward groaned as he continued, hiding his face in his hands. “And this is him bundled up for his first snow storm back in risembool! You can’t even see his face under all those scarves!” Maes chuckled at that, only furthering the boy’s embarrassment. This continued for what felt like hours until Ed finally couldn’t take it any more. He got up all of a sudden and marched out of the room. “Ed?” Maes asked, “Where are you going?” “Far away from here!”he growled, trying to hide his face as he was still blushing furiously. Maes raised an eyebrow as he watched him leave before turning to William in concern. “Is he all right?” he asked. “Oh he’ll be fine,” William said, a very satisfied smile on his face as he flipped to the next page. … Edward avoided his older brother all day. He didn’t know if he would be able to stop himself from punching him if he did. He couldn’t believe he had humiliated him like that. It had left him in a sour mood for the rest of the day, even after he had gotten back to the dorm. Alphonse had tried to ask him what was wrong, but he didn’t tell him. Instead he opted to pretend to do research on the couch so that no one would bother him. He had remained undisturbed until his brother came home a few hours later. He had briefly glanced up at him as he entered through the door before glowering and looking away. “Hey Ed,” he said walking up to him and sitting next to him on the couch, “How’s it going?” “How do you think, asshole?”he growled at him, “After all you did a pretty fine job of ruining my day! I hope you’re proud of yourself.” He then turned away from him. William frowned. “Really? That ruined your whole day?”he questioned. “Of course it did!” Ed cried, rounding on him, “You humiliated me with that stupid scrapbook!” William frowned slightly. “Oh. Sorry,” he responded. Ed gave him a baffled look. “Sorry?! How are you sorry?! You PLANNED this! You wanted to make fun of me in front of the other military personnel!” He roared. “Not I didn’t!” William argued, “First off, my goal was to embarrass you, not humiliate you. There’s a fine line between those things. If I wanted to humiliate you, I would have shown that album to Roy or Archer, or someone else besides the lieutenant colonel.” “And secondly,” he continued, “I wasn’t making fun of you. That was never my intention. Not for a second.” Ed gave him a confused look. “Believe it or not…All those moments I showed Hughes are actually ones I hold pretty close to my heart,” he admitted, throwing the boy off, “I adored you two back then. I still do. You and Al are some of the most important things in the world to me. I knew those things would embarrass you, but I was never trying to make fun of you.” Ed studied his brother’s expression for a moment. He couldn’t find any hint of lying but that still didn’t heal all of his hurt feelings from the situation. “Alright…” he said, “But you’re still an asshole. An evil, sadistic, asshole.” William chuckled and crossed his arms. “Fair enough,” he responded, “You can call me asshole all you want. So long as we finally drop this whole prank thing…and you admit I won.” He smirked at his brother and Ed rolled his eyes. “Fine,” he responded. William smiled before ruffling his hair, to which Ed swatted the hand away. William then got up to take a nap. Ed lied back on the couch as he decided to take one of his own. His mind felt much more at ease now that this stupid fight was over. “AHHHH!” Ed smirked, not opening his eyes as he heard the telltale sign that will had found the garter snake in his bed. Yes. Now he truly could rest easy.
#fullmetal alchemist 2003#alphonse elric#edward elric#Human envy#True form envy#Big brother william au#strawbebehfic
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