#Ed noticeably more so than Al

[coockie8]

Do you think the reason for Brotherhood's popularity level is partially to blame for the original FMA anime having such deep connection and lust between the Elric brothers?

I don't know if either series' popularity was overly impacted by 03's seemingly unintentional queer baiting.

03 is kinda just Like That™, because it focused pretty heavily on character relations more than anything in that version, which, fortunately or unfortunately depending on how you wanna look at it, tended to err a bit on the homoerotic side in areas (the Conqueror of Shamballa movie in particular is an Experience), but I don't think that they meant it like that.

[oatmealaddiction]

Okay but the weirdest thing about the whole "Brotherhood is better you should skip 03" discourse that's become commonplace now, it sort of forgets the world Brotherhood came out in and why you should watch the original Fullmetal Alchemist. When Brotherhood came out, the original Fullmetal Alchemist was one of the most beloved and most watched animes of all time. Brotherhood assumes you the audience have already seen it because of course you have, everyone has seen it, so it skips important information and speeds the story up because it doesn't want to bore you with things you already know. Have you ever wondered "hey why does the first episode of Brotherhood kind of suck, and why am I being introduced to like 50 new characters, and why are they acting like I know what the hell an alchemist is?" It's because Brotherhood thinks you've seen 03.

The first 7 or so episodes of Brotherhood constitute dozens of chapters in the manga, and the first 25 or so episodes of the original Fullmetal Alchemist. The Nina Tucker episode in Brotherhood, in FMA 03 takes up nearly three episodes. Yoki gets a backstory in 03 and it's genuinely one of the best episodes and taken directly from the manga and Brotherhood glosses over it because: duh, you've already seen it. And so if you skip the original you miss out on dozens of really great character building episodes like Ed and Al meeting Hughes for the first time and getting to spend a whole episode helping him free a train from terrorists, or Ed and Roy having a duel that expands on the relationship they have, or episodes where the brothers just help out random people in towns before the major story gets going.

The original also paces itself quite a bit better than Brotherhood and is more in line with the mangas storytelling. In the manga we don't find out about The Gate until nearly two dozen chapters in, and the same goes for the original anime. Like, that's a twist reveal in those stories, and it's weird that the most watched series is the one where they tell you all about The Gate in the first two episodes because they assume you've already seen the original show.

What's more, people don't know that Hiromu Arakawa helped write for the anime while she was still in the middle of writing the manga, and as a result was inspired to write scenes in Brotherhood that the anime did first. That scene of Edward getting impaled by a falling beam? Directly inspired by a similar scene in the original anime. There's a lot of little instances of that and they're great when you can recognize parallels and things in Brotherhood that are direct references to the original anime, but people don't notice any of that anymore. Because the original anime is just an automatic skip these days, and it's a bummer because people don't realize what a giant it was back before Brotherhood was released. They treat it as *bad,* not realizing it was one of the most beloved anime of its time and the problems people take issue with have a lot more to do with personal taste than any kind of actual flaw in the writing. Brotherhood was never meant to dethrone it, and the original anime was always supposed to be part of the viewing experience which is why those first few episodes of Brotherhood are so fast paced. So like, please stop telling people Fullmetal Alchemist 2003 is a skip, or it's bad, or you don't need it because Brotherhood is better. Regardless if you think Brotherhood is better or not, the original wrote Brotherhood's check. It was huge, it was beloved, and Brotherhood is *banking* on the knowledge you've seen all of it and loved it. And trust me when I say there is so much to love about the original series. It's still my favorite branch of the FMA franchise, and it's worth your time, I promise you.

[esyra]

Killing 1300+ Jews in barbaric ways does not make you the good guys. Israel retaliating is Hamas’ fault. Hamas surrendering would mean peace. Israel surrendering would have more dead Jews. But i guess that’s the end goal.

No, we're always the barbaric terrorists. Israel is the good guy for killing 9,000+ Gazans the past 25 days, and trapping 1,000+ under the rubble which will definitely turn out dead if they ever get the proper equipment to lift it off them. Israel is the good guy for killing Shireen Abu Akleh. Israel is the good guy for killing Ahmed Erekat. Israel is the good guy for killing Nadim Nuwarah and Mohammed Salameh. Israel is the good guy for opening fire on 2,400 protesters and killing 52. Israel is the good guy for holding over 1,000 Palestinians as "administrative detainees," meaning they are held indefinitely without charges.

In fact, Israel has been the good guy ever since they got the British to help them colonize Palestine and get rid of the Arabs, as they admitted to wanting it themselves. After all, as Winston Churchill said himself, the colonization of Palestine was righteous because as the Red Indians of America, and the black people of Australia, "a stronger race, a higher grade race, or, at any rate, a more worldly-wise race, to put it that way, has come in and taken their place."

Palestinians, be it on Gaza or the West Bank, can never retaliate or defend themselves. We're to either die and be violated quietly or we are terrorists which will be gleefully eradicated with the help of every colony-based State in the world. Otherwise, we'll disturb the comfortable privilege your racism and religious intolerance ensures.

When Hamas didn't existed the occupation began and the British violently suppressed anyone who opposed. When Hamas didn't exist the Nakba happened. When Hamas didn't exist the Deir Yassin massacre happened. But, you know, that one's fine because it happened after Israel had made Palestine agree to a peace pact, and they would never act unfairly so the brutal murder of over 100 Palestinians is obviously being misunderstood. Hamas doesn't operate in the West Bank, but they're still expelled from their homes, brutalized and murdered. Since October 7, West Bank had 115 killed, more than 2,000 injured and nearly 1,000 others forcibly displaced from their homes because of violence and intimidation by Israeli forces and settlers. They'll bomb mosques with exit points created to save people from settlers' violence, then claim they were used for terrorism. Proof? They don't need it. They'll bomb first then ask questions later.

Do people who blindly defend Israel do anything other than victimize yourselves? Do you even read any actual Israeli news that said the IDF "shell[ed] houses on their occupants," because they're too incompetent to do anything other than bombing everything? Do you ever wonder why the people Israel swears were burned and beheaded always came from reports from houses absolutely destroyed by what could only be shelling? Do you ever hear testimonies from survivors of the massacre saying IDF shoot at their own civilians? Do you ever read about past al-Qassam attacks and noticed they've never had mass casualties because IDF never responded like this? Do you even know what al-Qassam is or do you live to regurgitate whatever you're fed and being spoon-fed your information?

If Hamas' militia surrenders, Gaza will be wiped out and Gazans — those who are not murdered — will be exiled into Egypt's Sinai. That's the end goal since 1948, and that's what you're defending. But who cares? Arab blood is cheaper and racism is always fashionable.

[girlgenius1111]

throw it all away

part 1 of 2 if no one is noticing any changes, there must not be a problem. but then, someone does notice. and there is a problem. that just isn't a reality you really feel like accepting. [putellas!reader]... alexia realizes you're struggling. how does she help you with something she doesn't understand? tw: this is a fic about r struggling with an ED. proceed with caution.

—

“You’ve lost weight.” 

It wasn’t said with an impressed nod or smile. It wasn’t said like a benchmark you’d met. It wasn’t said like it was a good thing.

Somehow, you knew it wouldn’t be. 

Instead, the physio’s voice was gentle, concerned. He spoke to you like he knew how you got here, but he couldn’t. How could he know?

No one noticed. Not your teammates, not your friends. Not Spain’s physios. Not even your sister. 

And that’s what you wanted. 

“Okay…” You said, like you didn‘t understand why he’d  brought this up. 

“Not a little weight. Enough that I’m concerned.” His eyes were squinted a little, like he was trying to see right through you. Still, you maintained your composure, kept your face blank. 

“Well, I didn’t have much of an off season. It’s been pretty nonstop even since the end of the league season. I’m just in shape.” 

He shook his head, now looking almost pityingly at you. “That’s what the issue is? You’re sure?” 

You did what you’d been doing for months: you lied. 

“Yep. Can’t think of anything else it could be.” Your tone was light, even as the weight of the unspoken words settled heavily on your chest. 

“We have to be careful with these things, you understand. We’ll change up your meal plan, and see how you are in a week. You’ll be on light training anyway, like the rest of the girls coming back. If it’s a matter of being overworked, we’ll get you back healthy in no time.”

He didn’t say what would happen if things didn’t go back to normal; if this wasn’t just being overworked. He didn’t need to. He was giving you a chance to correct this yourself before he has to involve the doctors and the coaches. And your sister. He was giving you a chance to fix this before it became a much, much bigger deal. 

As you left the medical room, you wished more than anything that this was a chance you could take, but you knew that it wasn’t. 

—

You knew the physio had opened his mouth a week later when he came out during a water break to pull Alexia, Irene, and Pere aside. He spoke to them quietly for a few minutes, all three of them furtively looking over at you every so often. You knew what you were in for when you got home; probably a very angry Alexia. Angry that you were jeopardizing your career and your health, throwing all your hard work away. For Alexia, football was the most important thing in the world. Sometimes it felt like it was more important than you, and you knew that she wouldn’t understand this. She would see what you were going through as a weakness, something you needed to quickly resolve, and get back to the most important thing. 

It was just that you weren’t capable of handling Angry Alexia right now. Not when you already felt kind of faint from training on an empty stomach, horribly grumpy because you were fucking hungry, and honestly still in denial that anything was wrong. It would lead to a whole blow up fight you didn’t want to get into, and as such, you weren’t looking forward to going home. Alexia surprised you. 

She’d started off angry, moving to stomp over, grab you, and haul you home so she could yell, when Irene grabbed her wrist and encouraged her to just listen for a second. 

“This is going to ruin her season.” Alexia seethed. “Does she not realize that she’s hurting the team?”

Irene regarded her incredulously for a moment, having to remind herself that the other woman’s brain just worked differently than hers. “Ale, she’s hurting herself. Whatever she’s doing isn’t a selfish decision she’s making. She’s sick.” 

Your sister grew quiet, chewing on her lip as she thought through Irene’s words. 

“You can’t yell, Ale. You can’t be mad at her. She needs help, and she isn’t going to want to accept it. You have to be careful with this, gentle and patient and kind. Okay?” Irene said, staring hard at her co captain. 

“Yeah.” Alexia said quietly. “Pedro, do you know why… or how?” 

Pedro shook his head, worry clouding his face. “I asked her about it a week ago, and she pretended she had no idea what I was talking about. I told her she had a week to get back on track, but she didn’t. I don’t know how, or why. Those are both questions for your sister.” 

Alexia nodded, her gaze stuck on where you were stretching, just inside the gym tent. “Pere, can we go? I need to talk to her, and I know there needs to be a conversation with everyone, but she’ll just feel cornered if that’s where we start. I want to take her home to talk.” 

Pere agreed immediately, telling Alexia to take as much time as she needed, and reach out to the club for any help they could provide at all. Irene walked with the blonde in the direction of the tent, her arm slung across Alexia’s shoulders. 

“She isn’t going to want to talk to me.” Alexia murmured. “She hates talking about her feelings, especially with me.” 

Irene frowned. “You’re her sister. She trusts you more than she trusts anyone. Just stay calm and don’t get angry. I know when you worry you tend to get angry, but try not to let that happen. It won’t help.” 

Alexia nodded, having arrived at the entryway of the gym. Irene patted her on the back, telling her to call if she needed help, before she headed inside. She called you over, receiving a few odd looks from her teammates at the strange tone of her voice. 

Your sister could see how terrified you looked, even from all the way across the gym. Her heart clenched at the brave face you were trying to put on; it didn’t hide how scared you were.  

“Yeah?” You said, trying to act casual as you walked over to your sister, even though you felt kind of dizzy, and your head was pounding with a headache, not to mention the anxiety that was coursing through your veins. 

“We’re going home, we need to talk.” Her tone wasn’t clipped or sharp like you expected it to be. Her face wasn’t set with anger, her hands weren’t clenched into fists at her side. She looked strangely… calm. 

“Talk? About what?” You questioned, feeling defensive even if your sister wasn’t mad. 

“We’ll talk about it when we’re home. Let’s go.” With that, she led you out of the tent, back towards the main building. You stumbled slightly, the dizziness and nerves combining to make you a bit unsteady. 

Your sister steadied you, both her hands on her shoulders. “Are you okay? What’s wrong?” 

If you’d had any hopes that Alexia didn’t know what was going on, those disappeared. Her eyes flitted over you, her grip strong, as if she was worried you’d collapse or something. 

“Nothing. I’m fine.” Your voice was shaking, for a reason you weren’t quite sure of. 

Alexia softened, surprising you as she wrapped her arms around you tightly, pulling you into a hug. It was nice, comforting, and you sank into it, taking just a moment to allow yourself to be weak. 

It wasn’t comforting for your sister. Suddenly, all she could feel was the bones of your spine, more pronounced than they should be. It was a noticeable difference, and she knew that it likely felt more dramatic than it really was, considering the information the physio had given her, that this wasn’t that bad yet, that it was fixable. Still, your sister wanted to cry at how small you seemed against her. 

More than that, she wanted to cry that she hadn’t noticed this happening. 

—

You kept waiting for her to blow up. All the way to the locker room and to the car, all the way home, but she didn’t. She watched you carefully out of the corner of her eye, she carried your bag for you, and she insisted you drink an entire water bottle on the drive home. Alexia was worried, more than she was upset, and that was beginning to terrify you. 

She didn’t even really talk upon arriving home. She just set your bag down, looking around for Olga like the brunette would have all the answers to fix this. 

“Go shower, we can talk after, okay?” Alexia said over her shoulder, disappearing in the direction of the office Olga worked out of during the day. 

As you headed up the stairs, you wondered if the screen still slid out from your window as easily as it used to, when sneaking out was a bit of a habit. 

You wondered if your body could even take the jump down to the ground underneath your window. You wondered whether you even cared, if it meant that you’d get away from this conversation, escape the walls closing in around you.

—

Downstairs, Alexia was pacing a hole in the rug spread across the office floor. Olga was watching her march back and forth, waiting for her girlfriend to talk herself out, which she didn’t seem anywhere close to doing. 

“How could I miss this? Do I not pay enough attention? Is this my fault? Have I pushed her too hard? How long has this been going on? How did no one notice before now? What if-”

Olga stood, grabbing her girlfriend’s hands and putting her movements to a stop. “Amor, take a second. Relax. None of these questions need to be answered right now.” 

Alexia leaned almost imperceptibly into her girlfriend’s touch, desperate for anyone to tell her what to do here. 

“We need to talk to her. That’s where we start, and that is going to be hard, Ale. She probably doesn’t want to hear anything we have to say about this, and she might lash out, but you have to remember how much she must be hurting right now. You have to be patient, okay?” 

Alexia nodded her jaw tightening as her resolve strengthened. She’d be the most patient person in the world, if that’s what you needed. She’d do anything you needed her to, but the possibility that this wasn’t something that she could fix for you was terrifying her. She just wanted to help. 

—

When you came back downstairs after your shower, you knew you were in for an intervention. Ale and Olga were sitting on the couch next to each other, speaking in hushed tones. You approached them warily, sitting in the armchair across from the couch. 

Your sister took a deep breath, her eyes scanning over the piece of paper on the sofa next to her. It was a few notes that Pedro had given her, a few reminders she had for herself, and a few that Olga had added. 

Don’t get angry. She needs help, she doesn’t need your anger. 

Don’t push too hard, but don’t let her off with excuses.

 Be firm, but be kind. 

Don’t threaten to tell Mami, because she’ll just run. 

“I’m not mad.” Alexia started. Now that you were sure she wasn’t going to yell at you, you realized how much easier that would have been. You hated the concern on her face, the worry in her eyes. “You were looking at me earlier like I’d be mad at you, but I’m not mad.”

“Why would you be mad?” You asked, crossing your arms over your chest. Playing dumb always infuriated your sister, yet this time, she didn’t take the bait. 

“I talked to Pedro and Pere earlier. Pedro has some concerns, about you.” Your sister paused, looking at her girlfriend next to her, as if for reassurance. Olga nodded encouragingly, and Alexia straightened up. “I think you know what these concerns are, hermana.”

“I don’t.” You said quickly. “And I don’t appreciate you talking about me behind my back.” 

“You do.” Alexia said, still annoyingly calmly. 

“I really don’t, Alexia.” 

“Pequeña, please. I know that you aren’t okay. You don’t have to lie to me about that.” 

You wilted a little, eyes anywhere but on your sister, but she leaned forward, seeing an opportunity; a fracture in your walls. 

“I want you to be okay. I want you to get better, healthier.” Alexia said gently, her eyes flickering to the piece of paper in front of her every so often. It was a mix of her handwriting and Olga’s, though you couldn’t make out what it said. 

“I am better. I am healthier, Ale.” You argued weakly, finally looking at your sister. You half believed yourself, half knew that you were very far from healthy, the two conflicting sides waging war in your head. Would it be easier to admit defeat? To break down and let your sister fix you? You found that you didn’t really want to be fixed.

“Hermanita, this isn’t okay. You can’t keep going like this. It’s not safe.”

You shook your head defiantly, a single tear tracking down your cheek. “Alexia, I’m fine. You don’t need to worry.”

You didn’t think about the times you’ve cried yourself to sleep after having no choice but to eat a full dinner. You didn’t think about the way everything is just a touch more exhausting, now. You couldn’t think about that, you wouldn’t. You were fine. Why couldn’t Alexia see that? 

She just stared at you, blinking rapidly. Fighting back tears, you realized with a start. Her hand gripped Olga’s tightly, and you couldn’t fight the wave of guilt that hit you like a truck. She was worried, and you knew she should be. Somewhere deep inside, you knew. And that was the most terrifying part. 

“Cariño, I am so worried. You aren’t okay, I don’t understand how you can’t see that. You are an athlete, you know you need to fuel your body in the right way. You know this isn’t normal. Can’t you admit that?”

You shifted uncomfortably in your seat, for the first time showing even a hint of emotion. It wasn’t anger, or sadness. It was fear. 

“I have it under control, Ale. I promise you, it’s under control.” Your voice wobbled, no confidence at all behind your words. Alexia shut her eyes tightly for a minute before blinking then open and looking at you in a much more intense way. 

“I don’t believe you.” 

You stood up, feeling a flare of anger surge through you. “I don’t care what you believe.” Moving to walk out the front door, though not sure where you were going, you froze at the sound of Alexia’s voice behind you. 

“You can leave, but we’re still going to have this conversation. I can wait, but the sooner we talk, the sooner you’ll be allowed back at training, and back on the team sheet.” 

You whirled around, hands balling into fists at your sides. “Since when am I off the team sheet?!” 

“Since today.” Alexia didn’t raise her voice to match yours, and she didn’t stand either. She remained sitting next to Olga, both of them looking at you so sympathetically, it made you want to sprint out of the house that instant. 

“How could you do that?” 

Alexia almost flinched at the genuinely betrayed tone of your voice, but she just shook her head. 

“I didn’t do anything, pequeña. The physios and Pere made this decision themselves, based off the information they have.” She replied, nodding towards the chair across from her again. “The only way you’re being allowed anywhere near training is if you talk.” 

“I don’t want to talk about this.” You snapped, throwing yourself down in the chair. 

“Well, we have to. I won’t watch you hurt yourself like this without saying anything.”

You flinched like she’d struck you. “I am not hurting myself, Alexia. I have it under control, it’s not dangerous, it’s not anything. It’s fine.” 

“You are hurting yourself. I don’t know how, but I know that you are. Whatever you are doing to make sure your body doesn’t gain weight is hurting you!” 

"You're being ridiculous, Alexia. Completely ridiculous." You spat back.

Nothing Alexia was saying was working. You remained just as defiant, just as frustrated. Nostrils flaring, hands clenched into fists, you refused to back down. 

Olga squeezed her girlfriend's hand, the blonde falling silent as she did so. 

���Pequeña, listen to me. We both love you so much. You are my sister, maybe not by blood, but in all the ways that count. And when you care about someone, it’s so hard to watch them go through something like this.”  

Olga’s voice was soft and gentle and somehow, the most threatening thing you’d heard. It was the way she looked at you, the way she spoke; like she knew what she was about to say would challenge you. 

“If this was anyone else doing what you’re doing, you’d have something to say. If this was a friend or a teammate, and you saw them doing this, you’d do something. Am I wrong?”

You found that you couldn’t lie, so you just shook your head. 

“Give yourself that same kindness. Give yourself that same love and care. You would get someone else help if they needed it, no matter what. Can you let us help you?”

Another tear ran down your cheek, your lip trembling as you fought to hold back your sobs. Only Olga’s hand in hers kept Alexia from leaping over the coffee table and pulling you into a hug. 

“I’m scared. I don’t want to.” You said finally. Your eyes fixed on Olga, refusing to look over at your sister and see the disappointment you knew was simmering. 

“But you need to. And you know you need to.” Olga said carefully. She watched as an array of emotions flashed across your face, until you finally landed on… resigned. 

“I… I don’t know where to start.” 

“That’s okay!” Alexia jumped in. “You don’t need to know. We can take it one step at a time. We’ll get through this, hermanita, I promise.” 

The way Alexia was talking made your stomach twist. There was no ‘we’ here. Alexia didn’t close her eyes when she got dressed in the morning, didn’t turn her back to the mirror before she showered. She didn’t have to come up with excuses to go to the bathroom after a big meal, she didn’t know exactly how to move her food around her plate to look like she’d eaten more than she had. Alexia loved you, and you had no doubt that this was hurting her, but there was no comparison to what you’d been putting yourself through. Alexia couldn’t fix this for you, couldn’t even really fix it with you. It was something you had to entirely be committed to, recovery, something that would take strength from the deepest parts of you. Alexia couldn’t promise that you’d get through it. It wasn’t up to her.

You didn’t say any of that to your sister. What good would that have done? Instead, you dropped your head into your hands, and tried to breathe. You still couldn’t quite believe this was happening, and a part of you wished you’d wake up and it would all be some horrible dream, and no one would actually know. Another part of you, though, felt like sobbing in relief that someone had finally noticed. 

Unbeknownst to you, Alexia and Olga were having a silent conversation. Alexia wanted to drag you into the kitchen and make you eat lunch, since she was absolutely sure that you hadn’t had breakfast. She wanted to talk, and talk some more, and find you a therapist, and call her Mami and tell her what was going on. She wanted to do every little thing she could think of, because she was sure if she tried hard enough, she could control this enough for you to be okay.

Olga knew better. She looked at you and could tell that you were barely restraining yourself from curling up into a ball and crying. She knew trying to make you eat a full meal in the way Alexia intended to right now would push you too hard. She knew that you needed time and space to process and breathe. The brunette could see how easily you’d be overwhelmed here, and it was this knowledge that had her firmly telling Alexia what she was to do. 

“Go upstairs and shower. I’ve got her.” She whispered, kissing Alexia’s cheek softly. 

Her girlfriend looked at her in confusion, both of them exchanging a few glances before Alexia gave in. 

“Please try to get her to eat something.” The blonde whispered back, standing and beginning to head upstairs. She paused at your chair, opening her mouth to say something before thinking better of it. Instead, she just kissed the crown of your head and headed upstairs. 

Only once Olga heard the shower turn on upstairs did she finally move, walking around the coffee table and crouching in front of you. 

“Nena?” She called softly. 

You looked up apprehensively. 

“What do you need right now? You tell me, and that’s what we’ll do.” 

Control. Olga was giving you control, but you didn’t know what to do with it. You felt overwhelmingly lost, not even sure if you could put one foot in front of the other without someone telling you how to. 

“I… don’t know.” You replied, shrugging your shoulders. 

“That’s okay.” Olga assured you. “We don’t have to talk any more today, but I’d like you to try to eat something. It doesn’t have to be big, or a whole meal, but something. Is there anything you’d like?” 

No, there wasn’t, you wanted to snap. That was part of the problem. Instead of snapping, though, you found yourself thinking. “Protein shake?” You requested shakily. 

Olga nodded, smiling proudly at you. “Protein shake and a piece of toast, I think.” 

You found yourself agreeing, somehow, rising from your chair and following Olga into the kitchen. You tried to think of what would be worse; eating or talking. Both seemed like pretty abysmal choices, but Olga set your small meal down in front of you, and you knew there wasn’t really a choice. As quickly as it had been handed over to you, you felt the control slipping out of your grasp. The shower turned off upstairs, and you reached for the glass, bracing yourself for everything you were about to feel, and everything Alexia was probably about to say.

—

back in my two parter era. let me know what you all think :)

[shanastoryteller]

Happy Pride! Something FMA or Untamed?

continuation of 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8

While Eden genuinely does want to catch the serial killer murdering innocent young women, her plan does have a secondary motivation.

She's getting antsy.

They don't usually linger this long in Central. Mustang is clearly punishing her for not coming to report in person the last two years by having her spend several months hanging around doing fuck-all.

Well, okay, she's actually getting a lot genuinely useful research done, and of course she's very grateful for the time spent making friends with Catherine. But she doesn't exactly love Al stomping around where anyone could figure out he's hollow, and while Mustang and his crew have so far been too stupid to figure out she's a girl, the longer they're here the more opportunities they have to catch a clue.

Not only does hunting a serial killer take her mind off things, but if she's successful in catching him, that will get everyone paying attention to her. And since Mustang's whole use for her is for her to be so distracting that no one pays attention to him, it will then become in his best interest to send her as far away from him as possible.

The phone rings and she bounces off her bed to pick up. She's never bothered to requisition a phone for her dorm before, preferring one less way for anyone at the office to get ahold of her. If they needed her that badly, they could send someone. Besides, the damn things are always tapped anyway. Catherine, however, had taken issue with this.

So far she's the only one Ed's given this number, but eventually the notice will get to Mustang's desk and then she'll never know peace.

"Hey," she says,

"You're taking me out on a date tonight," she says. "Show up at seven."

Her lips twitch up. "Alex bothering you again?" The rumors of Catherine dating the Fullmetal Alchemist are doing wonders for her social status, but apparently Armstrong keeps bursting into tears about their star crossed romance, what with Ed on a mission to restore Alphonse's body over everything else.

Fortunately, this ruse also provides Catherine with the perfect excuse to leave with Ed, rather than having to sneak around with Eden.

"I really can't be expected to deal with this," she says crossly. "Mama is being no help at all. Don't be late."

"Yes ma'am," she says, but just receives the dial tone in reply.

[steddielations]

“Evening, sir.”

It’s the Harrington boy. Again.

“I told you, son, it’s Wayne,” he manages a smile, harder to do these days, like chipping it out of cement and dusting it off. But he gets it done.

Steve doesn’t have the Henderson boy with him today, that’s a first.

“Where’s the curly one?” He steps aside, letting Steve into the trailer door, more rickety than before. No money left to fix it after repairing the bulk of the earthquake damage.

“Dustin? He doesn’t wanna watch the game, and trust me, you don’t wanna listen to that kid complaining the whole time,” Steve walks by, sorta chuckling to himself, “I always miss the replay ‘cause he makes me change the channel to those D&D cartoons during the commercials, just like—”

He stops in front of the couch, looking over his shoulder at Wayne like he’s afraid he messed up somehow. Wayne noticed that look often from him, less and less, but still often. All that confidence he carries can drop on a dime, sorta reminded him of—

“Like Ed?”

“Yeah. Sorry.”

“S’alright. I don’t mind talking about him if you want,” Wayne manages another concrete smile, but he means it. Steve always waits for him to bring up Eddie first, like he doesn’t want to remind him if it ain’t on his mind, but Wayne likes to be reminded. It’s nice to feel like he’s not the only one missing him. “But the game was yesterday and y’know the cable’s out.”

“Yep, got it covered. I uh, I taped it,” Steve fishes a VHS tape from his back pocket. Fancy. Wayne would worry about him using that for his sake, but he has a feeling Steve’s folks aren’t around enough to notice.

“The Colts win?”

Steve flips the tape around, “Haven’t watched it, so we can bet on it if you’re feeling lucky.”

It doesn’t feel so dry and heavy when Wayne laughs a bit then, waving Steve to go ahead and start up the TV. He already caught the game on the radio, but he bets on the Colts anyway. Loser’s supposed to do the dishes after they scrounge together some soup, but Steve does them anyway.

Wayne would make a stink about it but he can tell Steve just wants to help, to feel like he’s helping. Same thing when the Henderson boy comes around to see him, wanting to hear all the stories, even the scary ones. So Wayne doesn’t mind letting Eddie’s friends feel like they’re helping him.

His nephew didn’t have many friends. Real, cover-your-six kinda friends. The boys he played his music with, they’ve come by a couple times, Wayne always liked Jeff despite the racket. That older fella that’s doing time now, Wayne wasn’t too fond of. And some of Eddie’s dungeon buddies he talked about were the only few.

Now, casual acquaintances? Anybody who didn’t have anywhere else to sit when he had an empty spot at his table? Sure, Eddie had those in spades.

His boy was good at that, putting on a good old show for his crowd, on a stage to keep his distance. That damn Al did him in good, never could trust easily, having his old man pop up and drag him into his mess before he took off again. And Eddie’s poor momma would’ve done right by him, if she hadn’t gotten sick so young.

Took Wayne a long time to get Eddie to depend on him, to trust this was his place to stay and he didn’t have to earn it, Wayne wasn’t just filling his head to scheme something out of him.

Love ain’t a transaction that way. He wasn’t ever any good at saying it, but he tried to show Eddie the best he could.

His boy though, always carried a debt with him. Like he owed Wayne something for taking him in, had to graduate quick and make it outta here, do something with the better life he gave him. Al dug him in so deep, Eddie stayed roped into whatever his latest scheme was (the cars, the dealing, the gambling, thank God Eddie wasn’t there when the goddamn robbery went wrong, 25 to life) like maybe it’d be enough to keep him from running off again.

The odds have never been in favor of people like them, poor folk in a town that’s stuck in its ways, where everybody’s just like their old man, but Al made his choices and Wayne made his. Rest their mother’s soul, she did her best. Part of Wayne was relieved when Al got locked up, at least Wayne had a better chance of keeping Eddie from going down the same path, try to raise him right.

Being a Munson wasn’t a crime. He didn’t owe a darn thing to anybody. Eddie could graduate at his own pace, play whatever games and music he wanted, dress however, that didn’t mean he was up to no good. And a lot of boys get into dealing for a little easy extra money around here, he was gonna grow out of that just like Wayne did.

It worked until all this mess.

That’s why Eddie ran off after what happened to the poor Cunningham girl. He gets spooked when something goes wrong, like it’ll be the last straw he can’t make up for so he runs off. Like the first time he didn’t make senior year, went and hid out with that Rick fella that Wayne never did like, got Eddie deep into that business he tried to keep a secret.

‘Course Wayne knew. He knows exactly what and where his boy hides. If those damn cops weren’t tailing him, he would’ve gone straight to get him.

That was before he knew it would turn into all of this. Now he wishes he would’ve done it anyway. Gone right to Eddie, told him it wasn’t his fault that everything got all turned upside down. Told him he knew he was innocent right from the get-go, and got him away from this rotten old town.

But he didn’t.

He didn’t go get his boy.

So now he’s just trying to be there for Eddie’s boys, since he can’t.

“You have a night shift tonight right? Gonna put on a pot of coffee,” Steve says once he’s finished up the dishes.

Wayne hums. There’s usually more noise going on during these visits. Steve’s still alright at carrying on, even without the Henderson boy’s chatter to fill any gaps.

It was strange, the first time the two of them showed up. Wayne knew Eddie was close with Dustin, but he didn’t have a clue that he was chumming it up with the Harrington boy. Just don’t seem like the same type of company. He might not believe it if it weren’t so obvious that Steve cared about his boy. He suspected before, but now with Steve showing up here alone, he knows.

Steve misses Eddie in a different sorta way than Dustin.

“No cream or sugar, right?” Steve looks humored by that as he passes the mug of black coffee to him, “How are you related to Eddie again?”

Wayne’s mouth turns upward, remembering his nephew’s god awful sweet tooth. He picked up a box of Honeycombs the other day in the store out of habit. “Just happened to be standin’ there when they beamed him down.”

That gets a good chuckle out of Steve. Nothing wistful weighing it down and Wayne’s glad, watching Steve pour himself a cup of coffee too.

Then bitter-sweetness swirls in his chest, seeing the mug that Steve chose for himself. Must’ve dug it out from one of the boxes Wayne hadn’t hung back on the walls yet. The earthquake did a number on his collection. That Garfield one was the only one he’d gotten around to gluing back together.

“What is it?” Steve asks, cup paused at his mouth.

“Ah nothin’ just,” Wayne waves it off, “That’s the mug Ed always used.”

“Oh, I can use a diff—”

“Nah, nah go ‘head. It’s fine.”

Unconvinced, Steve takes a wary sip.

Mostly these days, Wayne just feels like a watch without a ticker, a chest with nothing beating inside it. He can’t name the feeling he has at seeing Eddie’s old mug being used by someone else, but at least it’s something.

“Y’know, he used to put everything in that sucker. Soda pop, soup, cereal, you name it,” Wayne shakes his head, mouth twitching into a smile, “I’d have to wrestle it away from him just to give it a good washing. It’s well loved, alright. Leaks now.”

As if on cue, Steve has to grab a napkin to sit underneath it.

Wayne lets out an amused hum, “He uh— Didn’t have much stability ‘fore he came to live with me, so he’d get real attached to things like that.”

Carried around a stuffed dragon they picked up at a garage sale ‘til Wayne couldn’t sew the wings back on anymore. Never wanted to throw anything away. Got real anxious about Wayne going to work sometimes, even when he was too old for a sitter. Held onto him saying “Stay home just today, Dad, please.” Which, he didn’t mind Eddie calling him that. It always softened him up, made him give in. Wishes now that he’d told Eddie upfront. Maybe he never would’ve stopped.

“Thought for sure he’d marry that damn guitar one day.”

Steve nearly sputters his coffee, laughing at that, “Yeah, those two are made for each other.”

It’s nice, seeing the way that story lit Steve up. Sorta like his boy can still make someone happy. Hurts like hell that he ain’t here to do it himself, but Wayne was always good at telling stories. That’s where Eddie learned it from.

“I’m uh,” Steve deflates after a minute, looking down at the mug, “God, I’m just really sorry, Wayne.”

“Yeah. I’m sorry too, Steve,” he says, because, well.

Wayne gets the feeling that his boy was Steve’s boy too.

Read the rest on Ao3

[the-catmans-offical-2]

The offical art when it comes to Ed and Wrath are few and far between. However, there's some things I've noticed and would like to share!

Wrath, as a human, would have blue eyes - while this is something we pretty much already knew just by watching eps 28 through 30, if you look at Ed's eye color then you'll realize that they're very close to being inverses of each other!

Also Wrath is cool colors (Blues and greens, blacks and purples) whereas Ed is warm colors (Yellows and reds, whites and oranges). I think that's another contrast or inverse between them to show who they are as characters - with Wrath being a homunculus he is colder colors like the tones of a dead body or just generally not something alive, while Ed has warmer colors like a living human would.

There's more differences between them! Wrath's iris shape is (in the picture and originally) more circular than Ed's - who's is more ovular. Wrath also has slightly larger eyes than Ed, giving him a bit of more childlike appearance though his facial shape keeps him appearing as though he is of similar age to Ed. (I remember reading somewhere once, and please correct me if I am wrong but I personally believe this greatly, that Wrath was made with the goal kept in mind that he'd be an opponent to Ed of similar age and similar in other ways as well.) Wrath also has sharp teeth whilst Ed has dull flat ones - oddly enough Wrath's ears are pointed slightly and Ed's ears are rounded, furthermore giving the visual feel that Wrath isn't human. He must appear rather uncanny to Edward or to any human - same with the homunculi in general - because he looks human but with subtle things that make him... Off.

Wrath is all smilely too, whereas Ed looks more serious or weary; Showing off Wrath's inital innocence (which stays there throughout the series until he was betrayed by Dante and Envy, and I will fight anyone on that) and Ed's lingering distrust for Wrath. Fun fact, in CoS he seems to trust Wrath more even though the two never see each other again. Oh, they're gonna be the end of me. ED FUCKING ACTED LIKE HE KNEW WHAT WRATH WOULD WANT, which leads me to believe they had a talk or just SOMETHING during ep 51 that was cut out.

I have no idea what this image is from so please let me know if anyone knows! I've been curious for a while.

Anyway, Wrath:) He's poking out from behind Ed, and there's more things to point out between them!

Wrath is wearing dark clothes whereas Ed's wearing light ones. Like usual, Wrath's hair is down and messy while Ed's is up and neat. This is the offical art that made me realize that Ed has longer, thinner eyebrows than Wrath - who has thicker ones!

Also Wrath seems to be staring directly at Ed, but I personally can't read his expression as anything? Maybe curiosity? I'm not good with reading facial expressions lmao.

I only added this one bc WRATH LOOKS SO SILLY WHO THE FUCK PUT HIM IN A LIL SUIT??? HOW THE FUCK DID SOMEONE PUT HIM IN A SUIT???

I'm looking for a clearer image for this so I may update this post at some point to put the clearer one there if I find it!

Anyway so Wrath and Edward are standing back to back. They have a slight height difference with Wrath as the shorter of the two (I bet Ed is very happy/j)

Ed's expression is more angry or solem while Wrath's is a grin - but both can be said to look angry I'd think.

They both have a hand on their hip (Ed's in his pocket but Wrath doesn't have pockets, L) and the opposite arm resting more languidly at their side. They're both standing straight, Ed's head is tilted slightly downward while Wrath's is tilted up - no one else is shown standing back to back. Only Wrath any Ed. Al is there, standing beside Ed, but Gluttony is standing with his side to Alphonse, and Lust is more off to the side and facing the others rather than with her back to anyone. I think it is to further show that Ed and Wrath are such parallels (and Lust is standing a little to the side, possibly showing how she isn't really obeying anyone but herself - showing how she betrayed Dante and went to help Ed get Al back in exchange for becoming human again; But we know how that played out..)

I'm not really gonna talk about these here, as one of them is simply a scene redraw, and they're more Izumi focused if you look at them - with Izumi appearing somber while Ed looks weary or even fearful, and Wrath is just.. Being a kid. Running and flipping, and then in the redraw fighting Ed and Al.

The same could be said about these!! They aren't really interacting - in the first image Wrath is asleep at a table with the other homunculi, and in the second he does appear to be staring at Ed; But again Ed isn't focused on him.

Probably some of the ONLY FUCKING COS OFFICAL ART I HAVE FOUND with Wrath in it. Wrath and Ed are facing opposite of each other. No one, other than Wrath in the image, is fully facing at a side profile - which at first I thought represented how he had died, but Alfons is there and so is Eckhart.

Ed looks wistful, not angry but not happy. Sad perhaps, which is what he seems to be a lot in CoS. But Wrath, he looks down right angry. Yelling maybe? His mouth is opened wide and showing his sharp teeth, his visable eyebrow furrowed, he looks dirty and tired. Clearly this is during his fight with Gluttony. I love that they're seperated by the margin, representing the Gate kinda - Armestrian characters on one side, 'our world' characters on the other.

Again, this isn't really Ed and Wrath in particular. But I want you all to really look at Wrath. He's licking his Ed arm. In a similar fashion Dante does to Lyra's arm after possessing her body, and basically asking Hoenhiem to.. Yk, fuck. While I definitely don't think Wrath is doing it out of sexual desire or reason (that is a child, that is a child, that is a child), I do believe he's doing it to mimick or copy Dante. Wrath could've seen that she liked Hoenhiem, which is putting it lightly but for the sake of the sake I'll just say she liked him, and then copied her by licking said limb out of liking Ed or desiring (non-sexually) his body/limbs. To become human.

Also jfc Envy is buff, go back to being a twink you loser.

Uhh I dunno, I just rambled a lil. Maybe I'll make another post with this? Maybe not, but this is what you get for now!! Use my ask box if you have any questions! :)

[dykedvonte]

This was an ask from skull anon I accidently posted early so ignore that here is it actually completed. Crew voice claim first!

Anya - Janine Ditullo. She doesn't really have any big roles but she's Brendan's mom from the show Home Movies. She's snarky in a way I think Anya would be before anything went down.

Curly - Craig T Nelson. Specifically as his role Coach. Think he also has a sort of middle age voice

Daisuke - Greg Cipes but specifically when he's voicing Kevin Eleven as a teen and his voice has that deeper register. I think he just sounds a little punkish.

Jimmy - Steve Buscemi specifically in Parting Glances. I don't think his voice is loud but more shrill? He's a nasally fellow to me whose voice is intimidating because it shouldn't be so when he says stuff it just sound wrong. Like Randall Boggs. He'd be on his kin list. He's scarier when he's quiet.

Swansea - Ed O'Neill just because I think Jay (Modern Family) fits his general demeanor but also Al (Married with Children). Sort of rough, dry and tired but with that sort of comfort only a dad could have.

Now for other general stuff:

Anya knows how to finger quilt, tried to show Daisuke but he just can't get it, secretly smug about it.

Curly is like a gym bro sim. A good distressor for him is either jogging around the Tulpar or like working out like a freak in his room.

Daisuke has a shitty moped he bought himself after a summer of mowing lawns. It was his first purchase with his own real money and he got attached cause his parents were super proud!

He also thinks it makes him look badass even though it sputters every time he starts it.

Swansea likes taking pictures with his family and wife and even the crew but treats it like a whole ordeal. Fusses about people fixing their faces but is always happy with the results no matter how goofy

Jimmy refused to let Anya sleep in medical after crash. He explained it as not wanting to "disturb" Curly...

Swansea once accidently called Daisuke one of his kids names when he got irritated with him. Made the kids day in a way

Curly does not react to any level of sour, likes citrus and calls it sweet and refreshing, war heads are like jolly ranchers to him.

Anya has a very nice singing voice and Daisuke happily jokes and encourages her to get into the indie scene. Did choir as a kid

Jimmy knows a bit of Spanish through osmosis from jobs he's worked. Mostly knows how to talk shit and directions

Tells Curly he's mostly just saying basic stuff but its real vitriolic towards him that he just translates to like general compliments/jokes. He is still just a WHITE man

Anya reads who done it mystery murder books and makes fun of all the obvious twists and how they glaze the detective MC.

Curly lets Jimmy sit in the Captain's seat because when he doesn't Jimmy is noticeably meaner and more scathing to him.

Anya was planning to get a cat after a conversation with Curly about feeling lonely living in her apartment. Was gonna name it Polle as an in joke before everything happened....

Sexuality speed round: Anya is bi no real preference, very open about it. Curly doesn't label himself and kinda just goes with the moment. Daisuke is bi but a larger preference for girls, has a friend that everyone thinks he dating tho. Swansea had experiences in his youth and that's all he'll say on it other than a few comments here or there. Jimmy is straight but in a way where you here him talk about gay people and know he's current experiences... like the other day.

Yeah heres some more I always hold back cause like what if y'all don't want all of them at once? I think they all had family dinner as a crew but it always felt like an awkward thanksgiving with your family from a wide political spectrum... ergo Jimmy always said some shit and make someone storm off from the table.

[peapodsinspace]

What Makes a “Human”

Fullmetal Alchemist: brotherhood/manga

Read on Ao3!

Warnings: minor violence, mild thoughts of self harm

Relationships: Alphonse Elric & Roy Mustang

Words: 5,688

Summary: “Al stretched his legs out in front of him.

What would it be like to have feeling in this body?

Would it be cold? or hot?

Would it hurt?”

Or, Alphonse thinks about his [inhuman, wrong] body. Roy has a job for him. They talk.

Tick-tock.

Tick-tock.

Tick-tock.

Alphonse stared at the clock between the two beds in front of him. One of the beds was occupied by a snoring Edward, and the other was empty, blankets still untouched, since no one was using it.

The bed was meant for him, of course.

But the frame looked rickety, like it wouldn’t support the weight of his metal body.

And what comfort would lying in a bed bring him? He couldn’t feel the soft mattress or be warmed by the blankets.

He couldn’t even fit in the bed, or at least, not well.

He was too tall.

Al stretched his legs out in front of him.

What would it be like to have feeling in this body?

Would it be cold? Or hot?

Could he even regulate his temperature?

How different would it be from his flesh body?

Would it hurt?

Could having a body made of metal even hurt?

Alphonse’s didn’t.

He wished it did hurt, sometimes.

Just so he could feel human.

Really human.

On nights like this, where he sat all alone, the things people had said about his armored body swirled through his mind.

The comments were always positive.

They’d talk about how nice it must be to have a body that doesn’t need to eat or sleep.

But Al missed it.

He missed it terribly.

Every little thing he used to take for granted.

He missed eating dinner at Winry’s house.

He missed climbing trees and feeling their bark under his hands and feet.

He missed cool breezes, and the way the air smelled just before it rained.

He missed feeling the warmth from Ed’s hands when he led him around, or when Ed would pat him on the head or-

“Alph’nse…? What’re you doin’ staring at the wall?”

Al snapped his head up, staring at the sleepy face of his brother. “Oh! Um. Good morning, brother!” he responded quickly.

He’d missed the sunrise this morning. Somehow, it made his mood worse.

Edward rubbed one of his eyes, squinting at the sunlight streaming through the gap in the curtains. “Yeah, mornin’. You didn’t answer my question.” He turned his gaze back to Alphonse.

“Huh?”

Ed tilted his head. “You were all spaced out, Al. Are you alright?”

“Yep! I was just thinking.” The younger boy stood, grabbing the book he (hadn’t) been reading off the floor beside him.

Edward furrowed his brows, as if he was trying to dissect Al where he stood.

Al shifted nervously on his feet, eyes flitting across the room, before looking back to the clock and-

Oh, 6:53.

Alphonse gasped. “Brother! You slept in! We’re gonna be late to meet the Colonel!”

Edward’s head snapped to look at the clock.

He cursed, jumping out of bed and snatching a fresh set of clothes from his bag. He bolted to the bathroom, shirt already half-taken off.

“MAKE SURE YOU’RE READY TO SPRINT TO THE MEETING POINT, OR WE’RE IN FOR A BIGGER EARFULL THAN WE’RE ALREADY GETTIN’!”

Al huffed, gathering up their things and re-packing them.

Normally, Alphonse would give Ed a lecture too, if it wasn’t a little bit his own fault they’d be late.

Then again, why didn’t Edward ever set an alarm?

He was interrupted by his brother slamming the door open, looking no more presentable than he had a few moments ago.

“We have to leave now,” Ed hissed, hopping around on one leg while he tried to get his shoes on.

Al shook his head fondly, distracted from his earlier thoughts by watching his brother’s antics.

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

Alphonse shifted to the side, internally kicking himself for zoning out during Colonel Mustang’s briefing.

The man didn’t seem to notice, luckily, just like the last times it happened.

Ed was unintentionally covering for him by complaining and trying to annoy Mustang as usual, causing the Colonel’s attention to be diverted away from Al.

He didn’t miss Lieutenant Hawkeye’s occasional glace at him, though.

Al hoped his helmet’s lack of expression kept her from noticing he was lost in his head.

All he heard so far was that this person they were after was a State Alchemist, and his name was something-Hertz.

He sighed, doing his best to tune back into the conversation.

“-once we get there. Understood?” The Colonel looked fed up already.

“Sure,” Ed responded flippantly. “We get to the guy’s house, look around, don’t touch anything-” he said the last part in a mocking tone. “-and get the hell out. Oh, and we make sure not to touch anything there.”

Mustang’s eye twitched.

“Sorry about him, Colonel!” Alphonse said quickly, doing his best to glare at his brother, who wasn’t paying him any attention.

Roy sighed, waving him off. “Looks like we’ll be there in less than a minute,” he responded instead.

The Lieutenant glanced out the train’s window, as the station approached. “We don’t have enough time to go over the map, sir.”

“Map? Who the hell needs a map for a house?” Ed huffed.

“The map isn’t for his house, Fullmetal, its for the winding maze below it.” Colonel Mustang hissed through clenched teeth.

(This guy had a maze under his house? Who was he anyway? Apparently, Al missed quite a lot)

“Oh.” Ed scratched the back of his neck.

Any further comments were interrupted by the train stopping.

Mustang just shook his head and started walking towards the exit of the train.

The others followed behind him, two silent, and one grumbling about “dumb Colonels”.

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

Alphonse studied the cluttered room he stood in, pivoting on his heel to get a good look around. The ceiling was low- low enough he had to constantly duck- and the walls were chipped and stained by water in some spots.

The floorboards, only visible in the paths between the piles of books, papers, boxes, and all kinds of other junk, had seen better days.

The room was dominated by a tall shelf, packed full of books and trinkets to the point that a gust of wind could be enough to send it crashing to the ground.

Despite the room being so cluttered it felt cramped, it was surprisingly devoid of furniture.

The shelf, two mismatched rocking chairs, and a desk with nowhere to sit were the only furniture pieces in the room, other than a fireplace that clearly hadn’t been lit in some time.

Al walked through the room, stepping over papers that had fallen into his path.

According to Lieutenant Hawkeye, the only thing their map didn’t detail was where the maze connected to the house, though she suspected it was a normal underground addition originally.

Which meant they were likely looking for a basement or cellar, where they would then have to find the entrance to the tunnels.

Given the general layout of the house, it was most likely that this room they were looking for was a cellar.

Which didn’t seem like a problem until you realized that cellars are often accessed via trap door, and a trap door can be easily hidden under lots of things.

Couches, shelves, cabinets… giant piles of god-knows-what, to name a few.

So, needless to say, Al was a little worried they’d be digging through piles of junk all day.

Just the sort of mindless activity he didn’t want to be doing, with the way his thoughts had been drifting recently.

He ducked further as he passed under a doorway, shuffling by an especially precarious book-stack.

The Lieutenant glanced up at him momentarily stopping her… rhythmic stomping…?

“What are you doing?” Alphonse blurted, tilting his head.

Hawkeye smiled. “I’m trying the find the trap door by listening for hollow spots under the floor.”

“Oh! I can help with that!”

“Sure. You might want to use something a little duller than your boot, though. The metal might be too loud,” she responded, going back to tapping her heel on the floor.

Alphonse paused, before turning and grabbing a nice wooden hat stand from the other room.

With that, he joined the Lieutenant in tapping the floor.

He wasn’t entirely sure what a “hollow spot” sounded like, but after asking Hawkeye to clarify, she simply said he’d know when he heard it.

Al was left to his tapping, until Hawkeye paused.

“I think I found it,” she said, crouching down.

Alphonse looked over his shoulder, setting down the hat stand.

The Lieutenant had started moving some boxes away from where she crouched, and Al hurried over to help her.

As they cleared the rest of the area, a larger than usual seam between the planks started to emerge.

After Hawkeye tested the door by cracking it open slightly, she stood and brushed off her pants.

“This must be the one,” she said.

Al nodded.

“I’ll go and find the Colonel and Ed. You stay here, and make sure nobody comes out.”

“Alright!” Al responded chipperly.

He was happy he wasn’t the one to traverse the rest of the house, which from what he could see, was even more cramped than the parts he’d been in so far.

Hawkeye turned, stepping over another pile of papers, and leaving Al to stand beside the newly uncovered door.

It only took a few minutes for Colonel Mustang to appear beside him, startling Alphonse enough that he straightened up and hit his helm on the ceiling.

The man laughed quietly, glancing at him. “You’re a little tall for this place, hm?”

“Yeah…” Al replied, more downcast than he intended.

Mustang squinted at him, opening his mouth to reply-

“Hey, Al! Good to see you’re doin’ fine. I was starting to think this place was the maze,” Edward said, crossing his arms as he filed in behind Hawkeye.

Roy stared at Alphonse for a moment, before blinking and turning to the others. “Alright. Once we’re in the tunnels, stay on high alert,” he ignored Ed rolling his eyes. “Fullmetal, Alphonse, make sure you’re sticking with the me or the Lieutenant at all times, since we are somewhat familiar with the layout of this place.

“And for the love of god, don’t run off on your own.” He looked directly at Edward when he said that last bit.

Ed huffed. “Whatever you say, Colonel Bastard.”

Alphonse shrunk under Mustang’s glare, even though it wasn’t directed at him.

It seemed to have no effect on Ed, though.

The Colonel sighed. “Let’s get going.”

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

Roy walked briskly, listening to the puddles’ splashing as he and his team passed through them.

The tunnels weren’t as cramped as he expected, though they were far from spacious.

Unless “spaciousness” was in reference to the distance they spanned, in which case, it would be apt.

So far, getting into the tunnels had been the hardest part.

Roy just hoped it would be smooth sailing after this, but he found that to be incredibly unlikely.

It seemed like all the small things were out to get them this time.

Riza’s flashlight wasn’t working at first and Fullmetal had nearly tripped twice, though he strongly denied both accounts.

And then there was Alphonse.

The boy struggled to make it into the cellar, nearly falling down the steep stairs due to the steps being so shallow.

And if he thought the ceiling in the house was low, then it was even worse down here.

Al was practically bent at the waist just so he didn’t risk hitting his head on the beams.

On top of all that, he was silent.

That on its own wasn’t weird, but he’d been silent all day.

And Roy had no idea what was wrong.

Either way, Alphonse was spacey, and that was a dangerous thing to be when traversing through a labyrinth made by a rogue State Alchemist.

The group continued forward, silent other than the sounds of their footsteps and the occasional snarky remark from Fullmetal.

It didn’t take much more walking for Roy to realize the maps (or blueprints, really) had no information pertaining to the scale of the tunnels.

He didn’t have long to consider exactly what that entailed, when he found himself staring down two diverging paths.

“Were these tunnels not on your map, Colonel?” Edward asked, scowling. He managed to make “Colonel” sound like an insult by itself, forgoing his usual addition of “bastard” or any similar name.

Roy clenched his teeth. “No. It appears some new additions have been made.”

The boy huffed, but didn’t respond.

“Assuming the maps were correct at some point, then this is proof Hertz still actively working,” Riza said. “Should we split up, Sir?”

“Yes, I think that would be best.” Roy studied both tunnels from where he stood. There seemed to be little to no difference between them.

“Right, Al and I can go this way, and-“ Ed started.

“No, Fullmetal, you and Al will each have to go with either the Lieutenant or me. You weren’t able to look at the layout of this place since you were late, remember?” the Colonel interrupted, speaking sternly.

“And obviously those maps were wrong,” the boy snapped back.

Roy took a breath. “While it’s true they may not have been completely accurate, it’s still very possible this new addition connects to the rest of the tunnels somehow.

“Which means, you two wouldn’t have any idea what’s what either way, but we-” he gestured between himself and his Lieutenant. “-would.”

Ed huffed, but didn’t argue back. Roy knew that’s as close to a “yessir” he’d be getting, no matter how long they went back and forth.

“If that’s all cleared up,” The man said, with a pointed glare at Edward. “Then we should get going now. Alphonse, you’re with me. Fullmetal, stick with the Lieutenant. She’s in charge, understand?”

Edward grumbled something under his breath, but walked over to stand beside Riza with little fuss.

“Meet back here in no more than two hours,” Roy said, giving a curt nod in response to Riza’s acknowledgment.

The Colonel turned, stepping towards the rightmost tunnel, while Riza led Edward to the left one.

“Bye, brother! Be careful,” Al said softly, waving.

“Bye, Al. You be careful too. I don’t wanna be draggin’ bits and pieces of you outta here,” Ed responded, reluctantly stepping away from his little brother.

Alphonse hummed, waving again, and walked quickly over to meet Roy where he stood.

Roy nodded to Al, before starting off down the damp tunnel once again.

The boy followed close behind him, still oddly silent.

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

As the two continued through the alchemy-made labyrinth, the scenery began to change.

What was originally a long and straight tunnel, with damp floors and smooth, detail-less walls, became something more structured, and much cleaner.

Luckily for Alphonse, the ceilings became a lot higher throughout the halls, allowing him to straighten up to just a hunch of the shoulders.

It wasn’t long before additional rooms began popping up, each of which had a heavy-looking door that, upon closer inspection, was also made via alchemy.

Each time they saw a new room, it was the same cautious procedure of easing the door open, and thoroughly checking the inside for any important material.

All the rooms so far had been incomplete, or full of empty shelves.

Roy glanced over at Al as he came to a halt in front of two doors, opposite each other. He gestured to one with a nod, and Alphonse walked up to it as the Colonel turned to the other door.

Roy swung open the door and slipped inside, hand poised to snap. He heard Al enter the room behind him.

A quick glance around showed it was another dud, just full of tall shelves and one or two empty crates.

Scuff marks on the floor were a new addition, though.

The crates were all muddy this time, too, and none were on the shelves.

As he went to get a closer look, he heard a call from the other room.

“Colonel? There’s some… thing here,” Al said, raising his voice slightly. The boy sounded more confused than distressed, but Roy still wasted no time leaving the scratch-mark-and-crates-room behind him.

“What’s…” Roy started, trailing off he came up beside Alphonse.

Infront of him was… something, indeed.

Shelves, still empty, and crates were present in this room as well, but ceiling-high stacks of dirt blocks were a new addition.

What caught the Flame Alchemist’s attention was the uncanny sculpted face that stared back at him.

It appeared to be made of dirt or clay, with minimal details going into its slightly distressed expression.

It was one of many disembodied heads lying on the ground, haphazardly piled together.

Roy paused, before taking a step forward and nudging one of the heads with his shoe. It fell over, rolling and taking a few of the others with it.

“What… are they?” Alphonse asked quietly, tilting his head.

“Clay faces? I’m… not entirely sure.” Roy stepped back. “Either way, they don’t seem to… do anything, so we’ll keep moving.”

Alphonse nodded, hesitantly following the Colonel, but not without another glance at the faces.

Roy tapped his middle finger and thumb together as he walked, thinking.

What could those dirt heads be for?

They were likely created by Hertz, but why?

What purpose could he have for them? Were the dirt blocks for making more, or something else?

The more he thought about it, the less he knew.

The faces weren’t particularly detailed, so it didn’t seem like a random hobby. They were all nearly identical, however.

Were they made with alchemy? Or did Hertz just sculpt them by hand? Did he hire someone to make them?

Questions, questions, questions, and their next few stops did nothing to answer them.

Roy and Al were just met with more empty shelves, as if the dirt heads were a one-off thing.

It wasn’t until Roy heard heavy (non-metallic) footsteps, that he paused.

“Colonel? Is that-“

Roy held up a hand, listening for the cause of the sound.

“Sounds like more than one person,” he said quietly.

Al hummed in response.

“Make sure to keep an eye out behind us, Alphonse.” Roy took a few cautious steps forward, at a much slower pace than before.

Roy smiled slightly at the boy’s attempt to deaden his footsteps, though it didn’t have much effect.

As they walked, the tunnel started to open up even more, until Al was able to stand up fully.

The footsteps became louder, along with the sound of stone scraping stone.

Rounding another corner revealed a large cavern, supported by wooden beams. Various sized stones were piled up in several spots along the walls.

The source of the footsteps were several hulking figures made from dirt, wearing those same sculpted faces Alphonse had stumbled across.

They shambled around, seemingly having no direction.

That was, until Roy realized several were heading straight towards them.

“Alphonse, get ready!” Roy ordered, stepping off the side and lifting his hand.

He squinted at the figures, as they changed path to follow him.

All of them.

As if they didn’t even see- or weren’t concerned with- Alphonse.

Roy snapped with his left, shooting a beam of flame into the abdomen of one of the dirt sculptures. The attack did nothing to slow it, only scorching an area on the thing’s side.

A glance to his right showed Alphonse had transmuted a spear and was having a bit more luck in destroying one of the sculptures via tearing it apart.

Despite being right in front of the boy, it still played him no mind, not even showing a reaction to getting its arm and a chunk of shoulder detached from its body.

The sculptures continued their approach, at the same slow pace.

Roy gritted his teeth. What made them go after him?

Another snap, but this time Roy used a less focused attack in the hope of dealing more damage than before.

The sculpture he aimed for stumbled and fell, being unable to walk further with its legs incinerated.

That seemed to get a reaction from the other sculptures. Several of them changed course to gather around their fallen comrade.

Were they trying to heal it?

Roy whirled around, snapping twice to take down several that approached him from behind.

Another glance at Alphonse showed he was fine, though the sculptures still didn’t react to him.

The Colonel pursed his lips. The numbers were quickly becoming a problem, even with Al trying to help, they just wouldn’t stop coming for Roy.

When he turned again, he saw the sculpture whose legs he’d blown off previously. It was laying still, curled in on itself and reaching for its burns.

And the ones that stopped near the injured sculpture started hitting it.

Relentlessly swinging in what seemed to be a blind rage, completely oblivious to the fact they began to hit each other in the process.

As Roy studied them, he realized the same thing was happening to the others he’d burnt. The Injured ones would be still, studying the burns, and ones near them would attack.

Why? What were they doing?

Interestingly, it didn’t take them long to move on, and they did so all at once.

It was as if whatever had them so captivated had ceased to exist and they were left to go after the next most interesting thing, which seemed to be Roy.

Unfortunately, the Colonel didn’t have long to ponder this further, as one of the sculptures came up behind him quicker than he anticipated.

He tried to turn, lifting his hand in the process, but the thing had already begun swinging for him.

It hit him solidly on his side, sending him sprawling onto the floor an impressive distance away. His head slammed into the ground hard when he fell, making his vision go white for a second.

He could hear Alphonse’s distressed yell, though it sounded like he was fairly far away.

Pain bloomed from his side as he moved, spiking in intensity when he shifted his weight onto his hands and knees.

A sharp stabbing pain in his chest made itself known, but he ignored it in favor of stumbling back onto his feet.

The movement made his vison swim.

Glancing over his shoulder, he saw several of the sculptures were much closer than he liked.

Behind him, more were at about the same distance, effectively surrounding him.

He turned fully, hissing in pain when his ribs protested.

Roy snapped twice in quick succession, aiming for the legs of the sculptures in an attempt to slow them down.

His thoughts raced as he fought trying to figure out the trick behind these things.

What did he have in common with the injured sculptures?

Something that didn’t apply to Alphonse.

Another sculpture popped up beside him, falling backwards when a wall of flame hit it.

That only served to make the others draw closer, as if they were moths to a flame.

…Moths to a flame?

Were they attracted to the fire?

But why go after him?

Even before he used his alchemy, the things had targeted him.

Unless it wasn’t the fire itself they were attracted to?

Roy jumped backwards, away from the dirt arm that swung at him and very effectively interrupted his thoughts.

These things were getting far too close for comfort.

Another snap, and two more went down.

Roy glanced around wildly at the sculptures. His attacks weren’t having as much effect as he’d hoped, but here underground wasn’t exactly a perfect place to be blowing things up willy-nilly.

Just then, several of the sculptures were torn away from their lines, and Alphonse shouldered past them.

“Al! These things- they’re attracted to heat! That’s why they won’t go after you!” Roy shouted.

The boy knocked down another sculpture, practically dragging it away from Roy.

“Heat up my armor with your alchemy, then!” Alphonse shouted back, voice reverberating in his helmet.

What?

“What?”

“Set me on fire! They’ll go after me too, and I can fight them off!”

Set him on fire?

Roy gawked at him, speechless.

Hell no! Hell no.

Roy ducked, barely avoiding a swing.

He stumbled away, nearly losing his balance when his vision started swimming again.

“Colonel!” Alphonse shouted again.

He really was surrounded again, and Alphonse was struggling to grapple with the sculptures as they moved towards Roy.

Roy stumbled forward, glancing up to see Al desperately trying to drag these dirt-things away from him.

“Dammit, Alphonse,” he hissed.

He hoped this kid knew what he was doing.

Roy raised his hand, poised to snap.

He knew Al was clever, who was he kidding?

Three snaps, and Roy sent a wall of flame towards Alphonse, burning all the sculptures in its path.

As they neared Al, the flames dispersed around him so only a small portion made contact with the boy’s armor.

The sculptures’ reactions were instantaneous.

As if a switch was flipped, they all turned towards the wall of flame.

Even as the fire dissipated, they continued towards it, seeking out the heat left over from the scorched ground and the armor-clad boy who stood in the center of it all.

Roy backed up quickly, away the horde of sculptures looking to trample him.

Several of them tried reaching for him, but most were too interested in Alphonse for the time being.

The boy had drawn up a transmutation circle -already! Damn, he worked fast- and knelt down beside it, waiting for the sculptures to be close enough to attack.

The ground cracked, and several pillars of stone came out of it, smashing into the sculptures and burying them under rubble.

They didn’t move, despite the heat they sought being just out of their reach.

With that, they were (more or less) free of these godforsaken dirt sculptures.

Roy turned, ignoring the ache in his side, and walked quickly over to Alphonse.

The boy tilted his head, looking concerned. “Colonel! Are-“

Roy reached out and used his glove to brush some soot off Al’s armor. “Are you alright, Alphonse?” he asked, unintentionally saying what Al was about to.

The boy stepped backwards brushed Roy’s hand away. “My armor might still be hot! You could get burnt!”

Roy’s lips quirked up. “It’s not. I barely had to heat it up at all.”

Al dropped his hands back to his sides, like he was pouting.

He shook his head, starting to say something before his eyes snapped back to Roy.

“Are you alright? Your face is bleeding!” he said instead.

Roy’s hand automatically went up to his chin, where he could feel blood dripping.

He turned his hand at the last second, so he didn’t get the fingers of his gloves wet.

“I am,” he responded, studying the blood now on the back of his wrist. “I may have cracked a rib or two as well.”

Alphonse made a distressed noise.

For some reason, Roy felt the need to clarify: “I’m fine, Al, it’s probably nothing serious.” He tilted his head, grinning. “Hell, it might just be a bruise.”

Al ducked his head a little, still looking worried.

Roy studied the boy for a moment, before turning and pulling out his pocket watch. “We should get moving again. We don’t have much time until we’ll need to meet with Lieutenant Hawkeye and Fullmetal.”

“Right…”

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

Alphonse trudged through the tunnels behind Mustang, watching him closely as if he was waiting for the man to collapse.

Any time Al found himself around an injured person (usually Ed, unfortunately), he couldn’t help the anxious feeling that rose up in him.

Maybe it was because he could no longer get injured himself, or maybe he’d been like this since his mom died, but Al just couldn’t stop worrying for his friends.

Hence the staring.

Alphonse could tell the Colonel had noticed.

He didn’t say anything.

“…Colonel Mustang?” Al said quietly.

The man hummed in response, slowing his pace to level with Al.

“You said earlier that you barely had to heat my armor up. Why?” The boy continued, tilting his head with a metallic clink.

“Why?” Mustang glanced at him. “Because there was no need to.”

“Yes, I see that now, but why take the risk? Wouldn’t it have been easier?”

“I don’t burn people when I don’t have to, Alphonse.” His tone turned matter-of-fact. “It was unnecessary to light you on fire, or whatever you envisioned. I simply took the best course of action based on my options at the time.”

Alphonse shook his head. “But it would have taken much less effort to just aim all the flames at me,” he insisted.

The colonel stopped walking, turning to face Al when he did the same.

Mustang’s expression was stern, the same way it was when he issued orders to his men.

“Years ago, I promised that I would never burn another human unless I absolutely had to. And when I do have to, I always keep it minimal to avoid unnecessary injuries.” He tilted his head. “Understand?”

“Yes, I get that. It’s a good policy-“

Mustang hummed.

“-but I can’t get hurt,” Al continued. “So why bother with the precautions? You’re wasting time! And by doing that, someone might actually get hurt!”

The Colonel frowned. “So you’re saying I should prioritize the health of others over your own?”

“Yes! Because they’re human- or, because they have human bodies!”

“Hm. I’m afraid I’ll have to decline. I don’t value any human life over another when it comes to those under my command.”

Alphonse sputtered. “But you’re injured! And if you would’ve just-“

“Just what? I’d be injured either way. Don’t forget how long it took me to realize those things were attracted to heat.” He narrowed his eyes. “I will not unnecessarily endanger you, and that’s final. Am I clear?”

“Are you-“ Al huffed. “Fine.”

Mustang stared at him. “If you’re wanting to pout, then do it on your own time, Alphonse. Don’t forget we’re still in enemy territory.”

With that, he turned on his heel, continuing forward.

Alphonse watched Mustang walk for a moment, before following after him.

Why didn’t he understand? Al couldn’t be hurt!

Why didn’t he listen?

Did he think Al couldn’t handle this?

The boy huffed.

Ed may be the one who’s a State Alchemist, but that didn’t mean Al was any less capable than his brother!

Maybe, if Al had a human body, then he’d be the one with the fancy watch!

God!

He felt like screaming!

Mustang always seemed to understand him and Ed, so what’s different now?

Why, why, why!

Was it that he didn’t think Al was capable?

Did the Colonel really think he relied on Edward that much?

Did he-

“Alphonse.”

The boy turned sharply. “Yes, Colonel?”

“I expect a certain level of professionalism when I’m working with someone.”

Al stared at him.

“If you have a problem, then spit it out,” Mustang continued. “If you were Fullmetal I’m sure I would have heard it by now.”

“Well, I’m not,” Alphonse huffed.

The Colonel blinked at him. “Really?” He said, exasperated.

“I thought you said that we were on enemy territory, so we don’t have time for this,”

“I said you don’t have time to pout. I see you haven’t listened, so just say whatever it is you want to say before we stumble across more of those dirt-things.”

Al stared at the man.

He wasn’t pouting. He wasn’t!

Mustang shifted his weight to his other foot, meeting Alphonse’s gaze with an impatient expression. He looked like he was going to give a scolding.

Al huffed again, shaking his head. “I just don’t get it! I don’t understand you. You won’t endanger people when it’s not necessary, and you don’t value one human life over another. Great! Awesome. But how can you look at me and still say those same things apply?

“In case you’ve forgotten, I can’t get hurt and I can’t feel pain! I can’t die. So why risk yourself to save me from nothing?”

Was it not obvious?

Alphonse was only human by technicality.

A fully human soul in a fully inhuman body.

It just didn’t make sense.

He can fight, same as Ed.

He’s an alchemist, and a good one too because of Izumi.

So why…

What would he do if he got Mustang hurt, or even killed?

Who would help Ed get his body back?

Alphonse would protect his friends, no matter what. He wouldn’t-

“That’s what you’ve been thinking of all day,” Mustang said, more of a statement than a question.

Al just stared at him, uncomprehending.

The man sighed, looking at him with… something in his gaze. Concern? Understanding? Al wasn’t sure.

“No one has the right to decide what makes a person human or not,” he said simply. Mustang had the same odd air of regret about him as he, Hawkeye, or even Lieutenant Havoc occasionally had when speaking about the military or their pasts.

“Once you start thinking like that, thinking you aren’t human, or you don’t deserve to be called human, you lose everything. I can’t say I know what it’s like for you- my soul has been in this body all my life and I imagine it will be until the day I die, but I…” Mustang trailed off, almost looking like he was somewhere else for a moment.

He looked up at Alphonse again, expression closed off as it usually was. “Have Fullmetal give you a pep-talk when you see him again.” With that, he turned, continuing down the tunnel.

Al watched him for a moment, turning the Colonel’s words over in his head again.

Somehow, Mustang knew more about how Al felt than he let on.

The boy walked quickly to catch up with Mustang. “A pep-talk?” he asked, tone much lighter than it had been for a while today.

“Fullmetal seems like the type,” he responded cryptically.

Alphonse shook his head, baffled. “I don’t think he is!”

The man paused, glancing at Al. “How can you be certain?”

“I’ve known him all my life, Colonel!”

“All your life? That’s not very long, though. You’re only ten.”

“I’m not ten…”

Mustang hummed. “My apologies. Eleven.”

Alphonse just laughed.

[worldsokayestdragon]

GreedxLing Week Day 2: Crossover

Read on AO3

Ling had been certain that he and Lan Fan were ready to take down a witch.

They'd gotten the other 99 souls required easily, far faster than any other student at the DWMA had ever managed. (Well, anyone besides Maka Albarn, but she was a freakishly intense prodigy so that was hardly a fair comparison. And she'd had to start over anyway so it barely counted.) Their soul resonance was nearly flawless. When they fought together Lan Fan’s blade was like an extension of Ling's arm. Every strike landed precisely and powerfully, and their special attacks never failed.

No witch should have stood a chance against them.

And they hadn't gone into the fight alone. Ed and Al were with them, and the two brothers were nearly as good as Ling and Lan Fan. The weapon meister combination of a giant suit of armor and a guy way too small to wear it was unconventional, and Ling was pretty sure Ed having his friend make him an oversized prosthetic arm so he could wear one of everything from the pauldron down, then and having Al fight beside him only counted  “wielding a weapon” on the barest technicality, but they made it work. Ed was very good at punching things until they stopped getting back up, and Al stepped in perfectly to watch his back.

And Professor Hawkeye and her meister, Mustang, had accompanied them on this mission, so really they were as safe as could be.

Okay, maybe the adults had less accompanied them and more failed to notice the students sneaking along on a mission they'd been explicitly told to sit out because it was too dangerous. Something something ancient and powerful witch, blah blah dark soul magic, yadda yadda artificially created weapons who could operate autonomously, achieve soul resonance within themselves, and perform feats that no human weapon and meister team could hope to match. Whatever. If anything that was all the more reason for them to come along instead of leaving the old people to try and face all of that on their own.

Really, Hawkeye and Mustang should be grateful they were there, considering Mustang got himself critically injured fighting the first enemy they came across; a beautiful woman who could summon spears to her fingertips that grew to whatever length she wanted and apparently could cut through anything. The man did manage to kill her before succumbing to blood loss, though, which Ling could admit was kind of impressive considering how she shook off what should have been mortal wounds and healed almost instantly from any damage. But still, if the rest of them hadn't been there to provide cover and a distraction Hawkeye never would have been able to drag her unconscious meister to safety and call for more backup.

Hawkeye threatening them all with a “serious conversation” when they got back to school and swearing she'd expel them if she found out they'd stayed to fight if there was a chance of running away seemed pretty rude and uncalled for to Ling, but the woman was under a lot of stress.

So they ran deeper into the witch's compound–a confusing warren of underground tunnels that Ling wasn't entirely confident he'd be able to easily find his way back out of even with his normally perfect sense of direction–smashing delicate lab equipment, yelling for any cowards in the place to come face them, and generally just making a commotion to try and draw attention away from their injured companions.

Ed seemed particularly thrilled at all the destruction they were wreaking. Ling thought it was pretty fun too, but the other meister was delighted in a way that was a little concerning, laughing maniacally as he grabbed flasks of some unidentifiable green liquid off a lab table and flung them against a wall where they promptly exploded. 

Al heaved a long suffering sigh at his brother, but didn't try to stop the rampage, and also shoved over an entire shelf of the exploding potions as they left the room they'd found them in and giggled to himself about it because he was only “the normal brother” in the sense that anyone would seem sane and rational standing next to Edward Elric.

They succeeded in calling attention to themselves.

They didn’t draw out the actual witch, at least not yet, but the two minions who came after them were terrifying enough on their own.

One was a short fat man, who partially transformed into a…meat grinder? Some sort of construction equipment maybe? It wasn’t anything Ling would call a weapon in the traditional sense, but the sight of the man’s abdomen splitting open to reveal rows of spinning metal teeth was more alarming than any blade or hammer or gun could hope to be. Luckily he didn’t seem very smart, and kept stopping to look around and call for someone named Lust who never showed up, so it wasn’t too hard to dodge his attempts at pulverizing them.

The other person was more of a problem. They were taller and much more agile, and clearly knew their way around the witch’s headquarters, which made evading them in the tight corridors a challenge. And they never seemed to run out of ways to transform their body. Ling would dive back to avoid the swing of an arm that had become a blade only to immediately have to roll to the side when that same arm turned into a cannon aimed right at his head. 

They also never shut up. Every attack was followed up with a comment about how “You pathetic humans never should have come here,” or “You’ll never make it out of here alive, you worms!”

And of course, Ed also didn’t know how to shut up.

“I’d rather be a pathetic human worm than an ugly freak like you and your buddy!”

“Who are you calling ugly, you tiny little pest?” 

Their hand turned into some sort of glowing gun that fired a laser at Ed. Frankly, Ling thought turning into a sci-fi bullshit weapon was cheating.

Al just managed to yank his brother out of the way and hold him back from rushing in for an attack.

“Tiny?! We’ll see who’s tiny after I rip your legs off!”

“Oh, I’d love to see you try and–Gluttony, would you focus?”

The fat man, Gluttony apparently, turned back from where he’d been starting to wander away down a cross hall.

“But Envy, I need to go look for Lust. I don’t know where she is.”

Envy shook their head. “We can look for her after we crush these intruders, alright? You don’t need to worry about Lust, she can take care of herself.”

“But–”

“Ling, we should try and get out of here while they’re distracted,” Lan Fan said, speaking into Ling’s mind as she always did in her sword form and drowning out the argument in front of him.

“Right,” Ling whispered back, trying not to draw attention back to them. They were at the junction of two hallways, and there was just enough room that they could slip around their pursuers and go back the way they’d come if they were quick about it.

“Ed, Al, let’s get out of here,” he added only slightly louder. Both Elric brothers nodded their understanding.

Ling led the way, moving as quickly and quietly as he could along the far side of the hall from Envy and Gluttony to rush back past them.

Something slammed into the wall inches in front of Ling’s nose, and he barely stopped in time to avoid running into a giant mess of metal and wires and tubing that was shaped like a crude, nightmarish hand, reaching nearly from floor to ceiling and completely blocking his path.

The hand connected to an equally haphazard mechanical arm that shrank as it got further from the wrist, all the way down to Envy’s human looking shoulder. They’d stopped talking to Gluttony, their focus entirely fixed on Ling and his friends.

“I didn’t say you could leave,” they hissed.

“New plan,” Ling gasped, backpedaling a few steps away from where Envy’s hand was slowly pulling away from the new crater it had left in the solid stone wall. “We run away as fast as we can and worry about finding an exit later.”

“I like that plan!” Al said, already turning back up the hall and dragging Ed with him.

“Very sensible,” Lan Fan agreed.

The following chase was a blur of sprinting over uneven floors and taking corners at speed while ducking out of the way of blades and gunfire and giant mechanical hands, as well as the occasional attempt to grind them into a paste. (Gluttony referred to this as “eating them,” which, bad!) Ling completely gave up trying to keep track of where they were or the direction they were going, just concentrating on staying alive and hopefully losing the monsters on their tails.

It was a surprise when, after darting around another corner and through an archway, they found themselves out of the claustrophobic hallways and in a cavernous room. Tubes wrapped and tangled around each other up the walls and across the ceiling, coming together in the center of the room and trailing down to connect to a large throne, its occupant shrouded in shadows so deep Ling couldn’t make out a single detail of his face. A sense of creeping evil permeated the entire space, and Ling realized that this must be the witch’s inner sanctum.

There was no other door but the one they’d entered through.

The only other occupant of the room was an older man standing next to the throne, unremarkable other than the eyepatch over one eye. He strode forward with a glare as Envy and Gluttony burst into the room behind Ling and the others.

“What is the meaning of you fools allowing these humans to make their way here? You’ve disturbed Father’s work.”

“Hey, these little insects are fast,” Envy protested. “And I didn’t see you helping stop them, Wrath! Or Sloth and Pride for that matter.”

“Our brothers are away on an errand for Father,” Wrath said dismissively. “You shouldn’t need their help to squash a few bugs anyway. Or mine, but I’ll go ahead and lend it to you since it seems to be the only way anything gets done around here.” 

Envy growled, and the growl deepened and distorted as they transformed. 

In the open space of this room they were able to change more than just their arm. Their whole body stretched and twisted as they grew into a giant robotic thing. It looked a bit like a mech suit from an anime, if that mech suit had been welded together from a thousand disparate parts by a madman into a body horror nightmare amalgamation, bristling with every weapon imaginable. They dropped down onto all fours–their new form no longer bipedal–and the impact shook the room so badly Ling nearly lost his footing.

“Fine,” Envy said, in a voice like grating metal. “You take care of the one with the sword, that seems more your speed. I’ll take the armor and the runt.”

For once in his life, Ed didn’t immediately freak out about being called a runt. Maybe even he recognized they were in serious enough danger to let something like that slide. Instead he said, “Actually, I think I’m just gonna leave.” and darted toward Envy’s flank, maybe trying to use their large size against them to slip by them and back out the door before they could twist around for the attack.

Ling wasn’t able to watch and see how that tactic worked out for his friend because, faster than seemed possible, Wrath was no longer across the room but right in front of him, swinging a sword toward his neck. Only Lan Fan calling out a warning allowed Ling to react in time to block the attack, and the force of the blow sent him stumbling back.

Ling could hear Ed and Al fighting Envy, and it sounded like they were struggling (it also sounded like Ed had landed at least one blow because he yelled “that’s for calling me a runt!” So much for letting things go in a dangerous situation), but he couldn’t go to help them or even spare a glance in their direction. It took all his energy to match Wrath, and he spent more time blocking and dodging than making his own attacks, unable to find an opening. 

He didn’t know if the man was one of the witch’s created weapons. He must have been, from the weird name and how unnaturally fast he moved, but he didn’t appear to transform his body in any way. 

But he could pull seemingly infinite swords from somewhere, rearming himself instantly the one time Ling managed to disarm him, and throwing them with as much deadly accuracy as he wielded them when Ling tried to retreat and put some distance between them.

Gluttony, apparently unable to decide who he should be attacking without explicit instructions, just took a swipe at whatever intruder happened to be in range of him at any given time as the fight took them around the room. It was better than having to fight two at once, but the added need to keep track of distance from him wasn’t something Ling appreciated.

He tried to keep circling to Wrath’s left, to put himself in the blind spot created by the eyepatch. His success was limited, but the strategy was letting him keep his head attached so far, and he didn’t see any better options so he kept to it. 

The witch eventually grew impatient with the fight. 

“Enough,” he said, not yelling but somehow projecting his voice across the room and over the sound of fighting. 

Ling didn’t look over, refusing to be distracted.

But then Al asked: “Dad?” 

At the same time Ed snarled: “Hohenheim!” 

That got Ling’s attention.

“Your dad’s a witch?” That was the type of thing he’d hope his friends would tell him before it came up mid-battle.

The witch did look a lot like Ed, an old man with graying blond hair that had probably once been the same shade as Ed’s braid, and eyes the same distinctive golden color.

Whether the Elrics were going to answer him, or keep yelling at the witch that was maybe their dad, Ling never found out. Envy took advantage of the distraction and slammed one giant hand down into Ed and the other into Al, pinning them both to the floor.

“Ling!” Lan Fan yelled, and he jumped back away from Wrath’s sword.

He just barely got out of the way, a stinging cut opening on his cheek instead of the intended decapitation.

Wrath followed up by throwing his sword, and the thin blade slotted cleanly into the loop at the back of Lan Fan’s hilt, ripping her out of Ling’s hand. The sword continued on its path, and buried itself deeply into the wall.

Ling dashed over and yanked on the sword, but it didn’t budge.

“Duck!” Lan Fan shouted, and Ling dropped to the floor right as the blade of yet another sword hit the wall where his head had been with enough force to shatter the tempered steel.

Ling rolled to the side and sprung back to his feet. He and Wrath circled each other again, but this time Ling tried not to let himself be moved too far from Lan Fan.

“Ling, just go,” Lan Fan cried. Her voice, already faded in Ling’s mind from a few feet of distance, sounded desperate in a way he’d never heard her before. “Get out of here, please!”

“I’m not leaving you,” Ling snapped. He wouldn’t leave any of them. There had to be a way to–

Something slammed into Ling’s side, tackling him to the ground. Too late, he realized he’d forgotten to keep track of Gluttony.

As he struggled beneath Gluttony’s weight, watching the grinding teeth of whatever his weapon form was inch closer and closer, Ling really wished he’d been a little less confident in his abilities and chosen not to come here. 

“Wait,” the witch called. 

Gluttony stopped a second short of turning Ling into mince meat.

The Witch walked slowly towards Ed and Al.

“You two are Van Hohenheim’s children?” he asked.

“What’s it to you, you bastard?” Ed growled.

“Yes, we are,” Al, ever more diplomatic, rushed to answer. “You–um well– you look a lot like him.”

“Yes, I suppose I do,” The man muttered. Then, louder, he added, “We’ll be keeping these ones alive, Envy, so do try not to crush them too much if you haven’t already.”

“Um, alright,” Envy said, shifting to put less weight on the Elrics.

“As for the others,” the witch turned back to look at Ling. “We don’t need them. You can go ahead and eat that one, Gluttony.”

“No!” Ed yelled. “No, please, they're our friends!”

“But I have no use for them. A measly two souls aren’t even enough to use in my experiments. Although…” He tilted his head, regarding Ling with a more considering eye. “I suppose it might be time to give Greed another chance.”

The witch stood up straighter and clapped his hands sharply. “Wrath, Gluttony, bring the boy over here. I have use for him after all.”

Gluttony whined in disappointment, but obediently shifted off of Ling and grabbed one of his arms. Wrath grabbed the other, and the two of them began dragging Ling toward the throne in the middle of the room, ignoring his struggling as if it were nothing.

“No!” Lan Fan screamed. 

Ling twisted to look at her.

She’d taken her human form again. The sword that had been harmlessly hooked through the loop of her pommel was now stabbing her arm just below her right shoulder. There wasn’t much blood, the blade completely filling the wound, but that arm flopped limply as she struggled, reaching toward Ling.

“Let him go! Bring him back!” 

“Lan Fan, stop moving,” Ling yelled. “Your arm! You’ll make it worse if you don’t hold still!”

“I don’t care,” Lan Fan reached up to yank at the hilt of the sword. She managed only the slightest movement of the blade, and blood began oozing more quickly from around it. “Let him go! Take me instead!”

The witch and his weapons ignored her. Ling was dragged in front of the throne and forced to his knees as the witch retrieved a small flask of some viscous red liquid from a table nearby.

Gluttony moved to hold both of Ling’s arms, and Wrath took ahold of his chin, forcibly tilting his head up.

“This may hurt,” the witch said calmly, sounding almost like a doctor about to administer a shot.

“Let him go, you bastards!” Ed snarled.

“Please, stop this!” Al begged.

“Ling!” Lan Fan’s yell sounded more like a sob.

And then the witch tipped the contents of the flask into the cut on Ling’s cheek, and he couldn’t hear anything over his own screaming anymore.

—

Ling’s body twisted and writhed in ways it was never meant to, his bones breaking and rehealing over and over, his insides feeling like they were being boiled. 

It was excruciating. 

It was too much. 

Ling retreated from reality into the place inside himself he accessed for soul resonance training with Lan Fan. Not quite inside his own soul, but not in his body either. A quiet and empty void.

Except it wasn’t quiet or empty now. The pain followed him down, though it wasn’t as strong as it had been, and the space was full of a thousand overlapping screams. 

And there was another soul there.

The soul wasn’t normal. Not in the twisted, evil way the kishin eggs Lan Fan consumed on their missions were. It just looked like it had been put together hurriedly from the pieces of many others, somehow coming together into a cohesive whole. 

It was almost beautiful, in an alien way.

As Ling watched, the soul’s shape changed, until he was looking at a large, shadowy face with jagged teeth and glowing white eyes.

“Well, what do we have here?” The voice came from the face in front of him, though its mouth didn’t move. “Am I supposed to be using your body now?”

“What’s happening to me?” Ling asked.

“They didn’t explain, huh?” the thing asked. “Yeah, they wouldn’t. The names Greed, kid, and if I had to guess, what’s happening is they put me in your bloodstream and now your body’s trying to adapt to my power. Probably doesn’t feel too good.”

Maybe Ling was going crazy, but the floating head sounded a little sympathetic. 

“Look, you should probably just let go. Let yourself fade back into your soul or whatever. Only one person’s ever survived this, as far as I know, and it’s not a pretty way to go. I can keep you from feeling it, but not when you're fighting to stay conscious like this.”

“If I die, will they try again with someone else?”

“Huh?” One of Greed’s eyes got bigger than the other, giving the impression of raising an eyebrow he didn’t have. “Yeah, probably, if there’s anyone else around. Won’t be your problem anymore, though, will it?”

Ling thought of Lan Fan, pinned to a wall with a mangled arm and still fighting to get to him, to help him.

He couldn’t let her go through this.

Ling stood up as straight as he could while floating in a void and glared at Greed.

“I’m not going to die,” Ling willed himself to believe his own words as he spoke. “There are people counting on me. I’m going to save my friends, and I’ll take on all your power to do it if I have to.”

Greed stared at him silently for a moment, somehow looking stunned despite being mostly sharp teeth and empty eyes. Then he burst out laughing.

The laugh sounded more delighted than mocking, which was not what Ling would have expected.

“Oh, I like you,” Greed said when he was done with his laughing fit. “This is gonna be fun. Alright then, you take my power, and we’ll see what we can do for your friends. I got a score to settle with the old bastard myself.”

Greed moved closer to Ling, his mouth finally opening, stretching wide enough to swallow Ling whole. A blinding white light shone from between Greed’s teeth as they rushed toward Ling. The screaming around them crescendoed, growing louder and louder until Ling realized he was screaming along with it. Everything became so overwhelming, he was certain he was about to be ripped apart, and then–

—

Ling’s eyes opened, but he wasn’t the one to open them.

His body was still kneeling on the floor, right where it had been, his arms stretched out to either side of him.

Wrath and the witch stood looming over him. Gluttony had wandered away, not in Ling’s direct sight anymore, though he didn’t dare hope he’d gone far.

The pain faded rapidly, energy crackling around him as his body healed, until he felt fine. Better than fine. Maybe better than he’d ever felt in his life.

Ling’s head raised, his eyes looked around, but once again it wasn’t him behind the movements.

“Ling?” Ed asked. “Are you okay?”

Greed looked over at where Ed was still pressed to the floor by one of Envy’s hands. He smiled, and Ling could feel it pulling at his face in a way his own expressions never did.

“Oh, is that his name?” Greed asked. “Sorry, but Ling can’t come to the phone right now. Greed’s running the show from here on out.”

Hey, that’s one of my friends! Ling protested. You said we would–

Shut up and let me sell this, Greed hissed back inside the shared space between their souls.

“Greed,” The witch said. “Welcome back to the family, my son. Your past transgressions shall be forgiven, if you agree to once more work with us for our common goals.”

Ugh, I hate this guy, Greed muttered.

Out loud, he said: “What else could I do, when you’ve so kindly given me a second chance, Father?” He bowed Ling’s head in what might have been a convincing show of respect to someone who couldn’t hear his thoughts. “I promise, I won’t waste my new life.”

“Very good,” the witch hummed his approval. “Then rise, and tell me, how does the new body feel? And what form does the weapon inside you take now?”

“It feels pretty great,” Greed answered as he stood up. 

He raised both of Ling’s hands to eye level, and instead of the horrible twisting transformation Ling had been halfway bracing himself for, all that happened was a coal black something covering the skin to about halfway up his arms. The nails grew a bit longer and sharper, but nothing as dramatic as the woman Mustang had killed. (who Ling supposed must be the missing Lust)

“Still got my shield,” Greed added. Obviously, don’t know what else the asshole expected to happen.

“How disappointing,” the witch said. “I had hoped that combining your melted essence with a skilled swordsman such as this one would allow you to take a more useful shape, something suited to attacking rather than weak defense. Still, it can’t be helped I suppose. I can still find use for–”

“Monster!” Lan Fan shrieked from her place against the wall. “Give Ling his body back! Get out of him!”

Greed didn’t turn to look at her. 

Ling wished he would, desperate to check on her. 

Ling was grateful he didn’t, not wanting to see the pain he could hear in his best friend’s voice on her face.

“Fraid I can’t do that, sweetheart,” Greed drawled. “Not exactly a thing where I can just jump back out of the body once I’m in it, you understand.”

Don’t talk to her like that! Ling snapped, and was surprised to feel his hands twitch in response to his own emotion. 

Greed couldn’t jump back out, but maybe Ling could still get back in control.

Stop that! Greed admonished. I told you, I have to sell this. Just trust me for a minute, would you?

The witch turned to regard Lan Fan. “I’m afraid you’ve outlived your usefulness,” he said. “Wrath, dispose of her.”

No! Ling thrashed where he was trapped within his own body, but before he could make any progress, Greed moved.

Taking advantage of the witch’s distraction, the moment Wrath stepped away, Greed plunged one of Ling’s hands into the old man’s chest.

Whatever his shield was made of, it punched through flesh and bone as easily as a knife passing through butter.

“Like I said, Dad,” Greed spat. “I’m not wasting the chance you’ve given me.”

The witch looked very unconcerned for a man with a hand in his chest.

A wave of force slammed into Ling’s body, throwing him and Greed to the floor.

“So disappointing,” the witch sighed. His chest was healing with the same crackling energy that had surrounded Ling’s body moments before. “You do so much for your children, but in the end you can’t prevent them from making the same mistakes again and again. Oh well. Wrath, leave the girl and kill your brother for me.”

Wrath lunged at them, his movements almost too fast to follow. For the second time that day, Ling was in a fight with the ridiculously skilled swordsman, but this time he wasn’t even able to control his body. He had to rely on Greed to dodge and block fast enough, using his shielded hands to deflect blow after blow in a deadly dance.

Can’t you put that shield over more of my body? Ling asked as Wrath managed to cut his face, again. At least this time it healed almost before the pain could register.

That would take too much energy to power it up in the middle of a fight. Greed answered. Still kinda settling into my new body here, you know? This is what we have to work with for now.

Too much energy… 

Ling knew one way to boost a weapon’s power and allow for high energy attacks.

I’m going to try soul resonance. Ling said.

No way, Greed argued, ducking a slash from Wrath’s sword so close Ling was pretty sure it cut an inch off his ponytail. We don’t even know if you can match my wavelength, and if you do it wrong the distraction will get us killed!

We’re going to get killed eventually anyway if we do nothing. You can’t keep this up forever. And anyway, if our souls weren’t at least somewhat compatible my body would have rejected you, right?

Maybe? I don’t actually know how that works.

I can do it, Ling said. He couldn’t lie to someone sharing his body like this. He had to make himself believe it. I know I can. Just–trust me for a minute would you?

…Fine, Greed said. But hurry up, alright? You weren’t lying when you said I couldn’t keep this up forever.

Even as Greed spoke, Wrath got another hit in. This time it was on Ling's left arm above the shield, and felt much deeper. It still healed right away, but it was clear that Greed was losing ground.

Ling forced himself to ignore the fight, instead turning his attention to Greed’s soul.

The soul was unfamiliar, and reaching toward it felt strange. Ling didn’t know if that was because it was artificially constructed, or if he just wasn’t used to resonating with someone who wasn’t Lan Fan. She was the only weapon he’d ever worked with before.

(Wrath knocked Greed off balance, and Ling distantly felt himself falling. He didn’t let it distract him.)

Greed’s wavelength was much more aggressive than Lan Fan’s. There was a sense of desperately reaching for something to it, whereas Lan Fan felt more grounded and content.

(Greed hit the floor, and before he could try to get back up or even roll away, Wrath was standing over him, one foot on either side of Ling’s torso, trapping them in place. Ling ignored it.)

And yet, Ling discovered that matching this new wavelength wasn’t as difficult as he’d feared. Even as frenetic as it was, there was a clear opening within it. An empty space that Ling found he slotted into nearly perfectly. 

(Wrath’s sword swung down toward their neck.)

Ling’s soul wavelength matched Greeds completely.

The shield spread up from their arms and over their whole body. It reached their neck a millisecond before Wrath’s blade, and the sword snapped on impact.

The shield kept spreading up. Ling felt it cover their head, but he wasn’t thinking about it’s progress anymore.

Wrath stumbled back a step, and they surged to their feet. Ling wasn’t sure who was controlling the body anymore. He didn’t think it even mattered at this point.

This didn’t feel like soul resonance with Lan Fan. 

That always felt powerful in a safe familiar way, a close connection with the best friend he’d known his whole life. They worked together well because they had been close for as long as either of them could remember. It was a comfortable teamwork that Ling treasured.

This was something else entirely. Greed’s soul was unfamiliar, and yet it felt like an expansion of Ling’s own. It was brand new and exciting; a little frightening as Ling felt himself swept along Greed’s wavelength, but exhilarating as he could tell Greed was moving along with him just as much. It was a dance, and a struggle for dominance, and an embrace all at once. Ling didn’t know what they would do–what they could do–together, but the possibilities felt endless.

Wrath backed away as they stepped toward him. He threw more blades as they approached, but Ling couldn’t even feel them when they bounced off the shield.

“Oh what the hell?” Envy yelled from where they were still restraining Ed and Al near the door. 

There was a noise like cannon fire from that direction, and something exploded against Ling and Greed’s back. It didn’t even break their stride.

The clawed tips of their fingers had grown longer than before. Watching Wrath retreat got abruptly boring, and they rushed forward, sticking those sharp claws into Wrath’s abdomen just below the ribs.

“This is for my friends,” they growled. 

Ling didn’t know who’s anger was fueling them more, if they were taking revenge for Lan Fan’s injury or something that had happened in Greed’s past. 

It didn’t matter which it was. 

It was both.

They lifted their arm and flung Wrath over their head. He flew through the air and collided with the back of the throne with a sickening crunch.

They turned to the witch, but before they could take a step in his direction he made some complicated gesture with his hands and an orb of shimmering red force closed around them. 

A soul wavelength painfully disparate from theirs surrounded them on all sides, and the resonance abruptly ended.

They fell to their knees, the impact jarring as the shield retreated to only covering their forearms once again. 

Now Ling could tell it was Greed who clapped their hands over their ears against the onslaught.

“That’s enough of your little tantrum,” the witch said, barely even looking at them. “Gluttony, you can eat him.”

“Thank you father!” Gluttony yelled.

Ling couldn’t move. Couldn’t try to wrestle control back from Greed. Could barely think.

He could only watch as Gluttony leapt toward them, grinning and eager to devour them.

And then a blade passed through Gluttony’s head at the level of his eyes. 

A blow like that must have severed the monster’s brain.

His body fell to the ground, the smile still wide on the lower half of his face.

Lan Fan stood behind him. Her left arm turned into a blade just below the elbow.

Her right arm was gone from the shoulder, nothing but a bloody stump. 

Ling didn’t turn to look, but he was sure the arm was right where it had been, pinned to the wall, and now cut away.

“You will not touch him,” Lan Fan growled. The rage in her voice was like nothing Ling had ever heard.

“Lan Fan,” he gasped out, back in control of his own voice.

“Ling?” Lan Fan’s eyes widened. “You are still in there! Ling, you have to fi–”

“This is completely unacceptable,” the witch said. He was glaring at Lan Fan, showing something other than vague disinterest for the first time since Ling had laid eyes on him. 

Now he looked pissed.

“You break into my home. You ransack my research laboratories. And now you kill one of my children.”

He stalked toward Lan Fan as he spoke. She stood firm, but Ling could see her beginning to sway on her feet, the blood loss no doubt catching up to her.

With his focus on Lan Fan, the sphere of disrupting soul wavelength around Greed and Ling began to dissipate. They struggled to their feet.

“This will not stand!” the witch roared, raising his hands in preparation for some spell.

Lan Fan raised her one remaining arm to block whatever was coming.

Whatever it was, they’d never find out. 

Greed once again punched through his father’s rib cage with one clawed hand. Not willing to leave anything to chance this time, Ling slashed the claws of their other hand across the back of the witch’s neck, cutting through the spinal cord.

His body tumbled to the floor, and it didn’t move again.

A moment of stunned silence. 

Then Envy screamed.

“Greed, you traitor! How dare you side with these worms? I’ll kill you for this!”

They jumped over Ed and Al to rush at Greed.

Before they got there, the wall opposite the door exploded inward, and more teachers from the DWMA poured into the room.

Ling didn’t care to stand and watch the fight that followed. He ran to Lan Fan’s side, just making it in time to catch her as she fell and lower her gently to the floor.

“You idiot,” Ling said, surprised when it came out like a sob. He realized that he was crying. “Why would you cut off your arm for me? You could have died!”

“You could have died,” Lan Fan said. 

Ling pulled off his jacket and pressed it against what remained of her shoulder. She cried out in pain, and Ling felt like scum, but he didn’t let up the pressure.

After a few gasping breaths Lan Fan continued: “And I would have had to watch you die, useless and stuck to the wall. This was the only way.”

Ling shook his head. “Still. Your arm–”

“Well I for one am grateful that you saved my ass!” Greed put in, shoving Ling out of control mid-sentence.

Lan Fan narrowed her eyes. “I was saving Ling, not you.”

Greed shrugged casually, but Ling could tell how careful he was not to let the gesture jostle Lan Fan's shoulder where he was still holding the jacket against it.

“Yeah, well. Same ass, so thanks anyway.”

“I hate you,” Lan Fan said, without much force behind it. “Also, I’m going to pass out now, so don’t let Ling die before I wake up.”

“No!” Ling reclaimed control of their body. “Lan Fan, don’t pass out, okay? You need to try to stay awake.”

“Can’t. Sorry,” Lan Fan murmured, and then her eyes closed and her head lolled limply against the ground.

“Lan Fan!” Ling screamed.

Distantly, he was aware of the sounds of fighting coming to a close, of someone–Professor Stein maybe–trying to tug him away from Lan Fan and saying to let him look, of Greed taking back control to make him obey.

He heard Greed in their head more clearly than the noises around them.

Let the doctor guy look at her, Ling. She’ll be okay. She’s tough, I can already tell.

Ling couldn’t pull their eyes away from Lan Fan. He appreciated Greed trying to comfort him, but he couldn’t answer. 

He wouldn’t believe she’d be okay until he saw her awake again. And until then, nothing else mattered.

—

Lan Fan woke up the next day. 

Ling and Greed were sitting in a chair they’d dragged next to her bed in the infirmary. They’d refused to leave her side since she’d been out of surgery. 

A few times some of the higher ranking meisters and death scythes had tried to draw them away for a debrief, but they’d refused to go.

Surprisingly, Professor Hawkeye had taken their side. Glaring from where she sat in her own chair beside Mustang’s bed, she snapped at the would-be interrogators to have some patience and respect. 

Ling was pretty sure they wouldn’t have been allowed to stay no matter how much he wanted them to if she hadn’t stepped in.

He promised himself to always pay attention in her class from now on, and never let any other students get away with badmouthing her.

Lan Fan woke slowly, and smiled when she saw Ling leaning over her, hovering with indecision between running to get help and staying by her side.

Then the smile fell away, and she looked down at where her arm should be. Where it never would be again.

Ling cleared his throat. “Winry can make you a new one, once you’ve healed. Like Ed’s.”

“Right,” Lan Fan agreed. Her voice sounded hollow.

Greed slid into control of the body, and Ling felt a shit eating grin grow across their face.

“You should have her make you something with spikes and flames and shit. Something real cool, better than the old boring one.”

Lan Fan turned and glared at Greed. “I don’t want your opinion on what I do with my arm.”

She was angry, but Ling thought she might also be glad for the distraction. At the very least there was life in her eyes again.

Greed shrugged. “Fine, do what you want. Get a lame normal prosthetic and waste the chance of a lifetime for badass body modification. See if I–”

“So,” Ling interrupted before Lan Fan could decide to try and strangle Greed one handed. “You’ll never believe what stupid shit I heard Black Star and Kid got up to this time.”

—

They were still talking about nothing important, Ling holding Lan Fan’s hand, a few hours later when the door to the infirmary opened and Stein walked in.

Ling couldn’t say he was a fan of Stein’s bedside manner. The man always gave the impression that he’d rather peel your skin off and look at what was under it than give you a bandaid(not least because he occasionally waxed poetic about the joys of peeling skin off to look at what was under it), but he was the closest thing the school had to medical professional after the former nurse turned out to be a crazy snake witch bent on plunging the world into madness.

And, to be fair, he never actually experimented on any of the students in his care. 

As far as Ling knew.

So he assumed the man was there to check up on Lan Fan or Mustang, and didn’t pay him any mind.

Until Lord Death himself walked in behind him.

It was rare to see their school’s headmaster outside of his office. He only made visits to other areas when something very important came up. And since there wasn’t an imminent threat to existence as they knew it, that could only mean that they were in big trouble.

“Hi, howdy, hello, everyone!” Lord Death greeted them brightly. “I hear you young people have had quite the adventure.”

Ling wished he could take the good mood as a sign he wasn’t about to be expelled, or arrested, or worse, but Lord Death was always like that.

Before Ling could figure out a safe answer, Greed took control again.

“Oh, now what the fuck are you?”

“Shut up!” Ling hissed, shoving Greed back out of the way. “Lord Death, I apologize. He didn’t mean it how it sounded, really! Please forgive–”

“No need for that, Ling,” Lord Death said, waving an oversized hand dismissively. “I know the way I present myself is less than impressive. Don’t want to scare the students, after all! And that little outburst did prove that what the Elrics said was true. You really do have someone else rattling around in that head of yours.”

Ling could feel Greed trying to get control again, no doubt to insult Lord Death again, but he held his ground. That surprised Greed enough that he stopped reaching to take over.

What gives, Ling, he complained.

Lord Death is in charge of this school, Ling explained. He can expel me–or throw us both in a cell–if he wants, so please just stay quiet for now.

That’s in charge? Greed asked. This place is even weirder than the old man’s hideout. But fine, whatever, I’ll be good.

Lord Death turned to Stein. “Is there anything that can be done? I hate the thought of leaving the poor Yao boy stuck like this.”

That was marginally insulting.

Stein shook his head. “Unfortunately, no," he intoned, absentmindedly tightening the screw through his cranium. "As far as I’m aware, there’s no way to separate a meister and weapon who have been fused like this. I’ve been looking into it for Crona, and I haven’t been able to make any progress. It doesn’t help that I can’t experiment on them.” At everyone in the room’s concerned looks, he quickly tacked on: “Not that I would. They’ve had enough experimenting in their life, and respect their bodily autonomy. And Marie would kill me if I tried it.”

“Lord Death, Professor Stein, we don’t want to be separated,” Ling said. 

Everyone turned to look at him like he’d grown a second head.

“It’s–I know I didn’t ask for this,” Ling tried to explain. “But Greed and I work well together. We get along. And, especially if trying to break us apart would be dangerous, I’d rather we stay this way.”

You really mean that? Greed asked. Ling could feel the disbelief coming off him in waves.

With a sinking heart, Ling realized he’d never actually talked to Greed about this.

I do, Ling said because it was true. But I guess I shouldn’t speak for both of us. If you want your own body, we can see if Stein–

“You heard him, we’re staying like this,” Greed said like he was daring anyone to argue with him.

Lord Death sighed. “No offense intended, Greed was it? But you are an unknown entity, one we have no experience with, and it would be irresponsible of me to endanger my students by–”

Hawkeye snorted, which was the most undignified and unprofessional thing Ling had ever witnessed her do.

“Endanger how? With all due respect, Lord Death, he’s been here for over 24 hours already and all he’s done is sit by Lan Fan’s bedside and make a few jokes in poor taste. If he meant to pose a threat, surely he’d have done so by now.”

“Professor Hawkeye is right,” Lan Fan spoke up. “Greed has done nothing to hurt any of us. He didn’t choose to be fused with Ling, and Ling would have died–we all would have died–if Greed hadn’t killed Wrath and the witch. If–” Lan Fan paused, her voice suddenly very watery. 

Ling was alarmed to see tears gathering in her eyes.

Lan Fan swallowed heavily before continuing. “If Ling wants Greed to be his new weapon now that I’m crippled, then–”

“No,” Ling interrupted her. “No, no way Lan Fan! I’d never abandon you like that! You’re my best friend. Greed may have helped me kill the witch, but I got those other 99 souls with you. We started this journey together, and that’s how we’ll finish it!”

“But you said–”

“Death the Kid has two weapons. I don’t see why I can’t do the same.” Ling placed a hand on her hair. “You’re not getting rid of me that easily. I think the three of us could be a really good team. If that’s okay with the two of you?”

Lan Fan sniffled and nodded.

Greed took back over the body, and smiled in a way Ling didn’t trust.

“Fine by me,” Greed said. “I’m always down for a three way.”

Ling shoved him to the back of their mindscape.

“Ew! Don’t phrase it like that!”

Lan Fan just laughed.

Ling was shocked by that reaction, but also grateful to Greed for making it happen. It was the first time he’d heard her laugh since things started going bad at the witch’s stronghold.

“Alright, you’ve convinced me!” Lord Death said. “Greed can stay, and be enrolled as another student of the DWMA. I always do love giving people a chance. Of course you know, Ling, this means you’ll have to get double the souls of all the other meister students. 99 kishin eggs and one witch apiece.”

Ling nodded. “That’s very fair, Lord Death. I can handle that. After all, Lan Fan and I already got her 99, and Greed and I killed a witch.”

“Well, actually,” Lord Death started, and Ling could already tell he would hate the rest of this sentence. “Since you went after a witch and failed to kill him with Lan Fan’s blade, the two of you will have to start over.”

“What!” Ling and Lan Fan screeched in perfect unison.

“Yes, I know it’s no fun, but them’s the rules!” Lord Death said. “The same applies to the Elric boys. Let that be a lesson for you all about stowing away on missions you’ve been told you’re not ready for!”

“Also, not to kick you when you’re down,” Greed put in. “But everyone keeps talking about me and Ling killing the witch, and he is for sure not dead.”

“Huh? But we stabbed in the heart and cut his spine!”

“Yeah, and did you see a soul?” Greed asked. “He figured out how to siphon most of it off for safekeeping in a different container ages ago. That’s what all the tubes were for. You were kind of checked out, but I saw Envy get away with his body and Wrath. They definitely retrieved the soul before they booked it to another safe house. Oh, Wrath also isn’t dead. His brain was still attached and he wasn’t a pile of ash, so he can heal.”

“Oh god, this is the worst,” Ling groaned, putting his head in his hands. 

Lan Fan patted him on the back, and Greed did the mental equivalent of the same.

“We can handle it,” Lan Fan said.

“Oh yeah, it’ll be no problem,” Greed put in.

Ling supposed that, if he had to start from square one on gathering twice the souls he’d thought he’d ever need and eventually deal with an ancient witch’s inevitable revenge plot, he could at least do so with good company.

“Yeah, you’re right,” Ling said. “We’ve totally got this.”

[mostofthingsmostofthetime]

I just finished the first episode of Heartstopper, so here are some of my thoughts in no particular order.

The opening song is cool (will probably look up the shows soundtrack like I did with XO, Kitty).

Why did the camera focus so much on Charlie's bag & Elle's drink? Is it product placement?

Wow, no hate to the actor, but Charlie's eyebrows are THICK!!!!

Tori is beautiful but also kind of looks like a ghost (I think she’d be great for the role of  Violet Baudelaire from A Series Of Unfortunate Events) & why was she so pushy about the "dream guy" thing? Like let the poor boy breathe.

Is Nick's actor that much taller than Charlie's? I hadn't noticed.

I’m sorry, but knees are so weird to me lol. Also obligatory, 🎵 she's a runner she's a track star🎵.

Wait, is that PE teacher that will later interrupt the team theorising about Nick & Charlie's relationship? It's crazy how they’ve found actors who look so much like the characters in the graphic novels (other casting directors should take notes).

Ok fair enough about wanting your team to be good & wondering if the quiet, skinny, nerdy, boy is even into sports but the shit about him being gay is so stupid (bet it was Harry that said that).

Glad Charlie didn't get injured learning rugby, lol.

Nick's shorts seem a lot smaller than Charlie's ones do, but maybe that's the costume designer's way of helping Charlie’s actor look more skinny?

Omg Stephen Fry, what are you doing here lol?

Wow, people weren't kidding. Olivia Colman really did show up just to say one line. What a legend, lol.

Ben, did you really make Charlie walk all that way for such a lame ass kiss? Also, let him talk about his Christmas, you jerk!

I don't think that Form tutor is very good at his job (while Nick thankfully turned out to be nice) it’s usually not a great idea to put the skinny, gay, nerd that has already been bullied with the bigger, popular, seemingly straight, athlete, especially at an all boys school!

Ben, you dick. Like I get wanting to keep your relationship secret, but you did not need to pull the 'who the hell are you!' card. All you had to do was say hi in a confused/uninterested tone (then apologise later). If anything, your reaction came off more weird than what Charlie did.

I'm sorry, but I don't get the leaf animation. I mean, I GET it, just why leaves? Why not flowers or hearts or something? It just doesn’t seem that impactful to me, but maybe they have a deeper meaning that I'm just not grasping yet? If so, please let me know.

Ok, so I'm torn over the gay teacher. Like artistic? That's cool. Those glasses? Cute. Him giving Charlie a safe space to eat lunch? Great. Him being worried over Charlie potentially being bullied again? Awesome (take notes, Form guy), but his advice to Charlie seemed slightly lacking. Obviously, honesty & communication are important in relationships, but I'm a little surprised that possible safety concerns weren't addressed at all, especially from a fellow gay guy. Like I get that he doesn’t know the kind of guy Charlie's "dating" & that just because someone doesn't want to come out yet doesn’t mean they should be labelled as dangerous but internalised homophobia can make some people lash out & after everything Charlie's been through his clearly more likely to be vulnerable to situations like that.

Nick is a golden retriever in human form, they're 100% correct 😊.

Isaac? What happened to Aled? I hope he still shows up. He may be quiet, but he was so cute during Charlie's 15th birthday in the graphic novel.

Interesting to get to see Elle's time at Higg's (fuck that transphobic teacher & whoever was throwing sandwiches at her). Sad she doesn’t have any friends but I'm sure that'll change when she meets Tara & Darcy. Wow, is it strict over there, though, like you can't even be on your phone at lunchtime? Damn! Surprised they did it this way, though, as I was assuming they'd just make Truham co-ed so all the characters could be in the same place.

Tao, my guy, the drink thing is sweet but that hair is.....certainly.....a choice 😅.

The shots of Charlie looking at food, without eating, make me ☹️.

I gotta be honest, the montage of Nick & Charlie saying hi to each other was a little cringy to me compared to how it came across in the graphic novel, but they're meant to be teens, so I'll let it slide. It's also an effective way to highlight how differently Charlie's "boyfriend" treats him compared to an acquaintance.

Ben's hand covering up Nick's smiley face got me like ☹️/😠. They're not even together yet & I already felt like telling him to get off Charlie, like that boy is not for you! It’s ridiculous, lol.

Ben what you did was fucked up but it's hard to be scared of someone who looks so much like a meerkat in a wig (no hate to the actor) also did it seem like he just....skidded away when Nick pulled him off Charlie? Like, was the actor wearing Heelys lol? Or had someone just mopped the floor without telling anyone? Also, it's lame to wear a coat when you're cold? What in the toxic masculinity are you fucking on about Ben?

Omg the bathroom scene was so adorable, but I wanna know what kind of pen Nick was using because being covered in that amount of ink is crazy 😆.

Overall, it's very cute. I like Nick & Charlie. It’ll probably take a bit longer for me to really care about the other characters. Ben can catch these hands! And I’m looking forward to watching the Narlie relationship develop.

So while not overly ground breaking (though obviously important for LGBTQ+ rep) it's definitely enjoyable in a comforting sort of way which (considering medias fascination with marginalised suffering) is obviously important for queer youth but also must be quite healing for queer elders. Because you deserve wholesome, cheesy, romance just as much as anyone else.

[scienceoftheidiot]

It's WIP Wednesday!

And today is insane because yesterday I blacked out and when I woke up I'd written 6K in two different fics /o/

... Yeah no don't do this at home I am a professional

(I definitely shouldn't have stayed so long in front of a screen with my fucked up eye buuuut eeeehh)

Anyway sharing small parts of them then 😌

First from the ultimate chapter of All the Hope. Only a handful of parts are still missing, and I CAN'T WAIT to share this very fluffy last chapter (but you guys know me. Beware still).

The song had ended, and Riza wasn’t so sure she wanted to go back to her seat. A new tune succeeded to the first, a slower one. It was from a brass band this time, and it had this warm quality that Riza associated with late evenings at the office, when they’d just sit in the yellow glow of the desk lamps and drank coffee over paperwork, or the planning of an operation. It wasn’t necessarily just the two of them, and she remembered the occasional game of cards with Breda and Havoc, and of course Fuery tinkering with his radio and offering them such music on the regular. Havoc had been missing first. Then they were separated. Then reunited, except for them both. And now the team was only a team in their memories — fond or not. They’d have to be careful not to paint the past in a rosy light. But they would miss it, surely. “So you’re staying, after all?” Roy asked, a faint smile on his lips, his eyes closed, the warm light from behind him caressing his face just like Riza felt like doing now. He seemed to have even timed his words with the music, just like he did with his feet.

The other one is from my WW1 AU 1923, which will need a real title sooner or later, and honestly I am very excited to start sharing this fic too once I'm done with All the hope. You guys know me there'll be angst or whump if you prefer I guess AND historical references. And languages. And war. And science. Anyway, I am eager, lol.

“These people are here for a science conference. They aren’t thieves or anything, and I’m sure Mr Mustang was going to pay for his rose,” Ed adds, sending a dark stare at Mustang. “Of course I was, little brat!” Mustang mumbles, fishing in his pocket. He skirts around Hawkeye, Al and Ed, his limp more obvious than ever, and goes to hand money to Gracia, when Hughes steps in. The following action is seamless, as Hughes begins to shove him backwards again, but is stopped in his tracks by Hawkeye, swift as a bullet. “No,” she says, low and calm, standing straight between the two men. Ed hates that he notices a flash of pride and something else on Mustang’s face. “Indeed, no,” Gracia nods, and pulls a stunned Hughes back. Mustang is here standing like an idiot with his spare change, so Ed turns to him, holding his hand out. The man seems to shake himself, and puts the money in Ed’s hand, which he then hands to Gracia. “Keep the change,” Mustang says with a blank voice. “And you,” his eyes shoot to Ed, and they’re back being as sharp as his tone. “I want a word.”

[caycaysdiamond]

Lovepotioned? Not!

Request for Anon: "do you think you could do something for Scarabia, and maybe Ruggie if you can fit him in there, where reader is very loving with them to the point where people think they've been love potion-ed and kinda question the boys because reader is usually pretty tame and calm but in reality reader just really down bad for their boyfriend?"

my google doc for this alone was 10 pages??? ne ways!! I had a lot of fun with this but oh my god the more i thought about this prompt I was like...this would probably be the most annoying rumor to have at a magical school yk?? like damn you think I can't pull?!? (I can't) you think I don't have rizz??!? (I don't)

Characters: Kalim Al-Asim, Jamil Viper, Ruggie Bucchi Established relationship, rumored hypnosis/non-consensual relationship, non-prefect reader, lovesick reader, and lovesick boys. Chapter 4 spoilers in Jamil's part. Long asf post

Kalim Al Asim

When it came to Kalim, you weren’t just the star in his sky, no, you were his entire galaxy. Likewise, if Kalim was a planet, well, he was your universe. It didn’t take long for people to notice the difference in your personality when you were with Kalim. Your usual calm, soothing, regal personality is a breath of fresh air compared to the scheming personalities of many of your contemporaries. Yet when Kalim was around, you were a lovesick puppy! Excited, doe-eyed, and clingy. When he was brought up in conversations with you it was even worse, suddenly a boring conversation became so much more exciting and you were singing praises all for Kalim!  It was…concerning to many to say the least. I mean people don’t change that much in a relationship, right? 

It was Riddle, surprisingly, who first thought you might be under the control of some sort of potion. You were his fellow Equestrian club member, it was his sacred duty to free you of whatever control you were under so he quickly got to work on a potion that would reverse the effects of whatever magic you might be under. He worked diligently after all his duties were done and away from any of the rather nosy student body of NCR late into the night. He was out past his bedtime and his eyes grew heavy but he finished the potion and snuck into your own dorm to slip an invitation for tea under your door.

“They’ll be here soon,” Riddle mumbled to himself as straightened out the cups sitting on the table for the 10th time that afternoon. To give you the potion discreetly, he thought inviting you for tea would be perfect. He made sure that the recipe for the potion he chose was tasteless, odorless, and didn’t have any adverse effects on you or the hot temperature of the tea. Everything was perfect, of course, nothing less would come from the Queen. 

“I’m not late, am I?” 

Riddle turned to the source of the question with a polite smile, “No,” he glanced at the watch on his wrist, “In fact, you’re perfectly on time, Reader.” Riddle motioned you over and pulled out your seat, you bowed to the redhead before taking your seat. He poured your drinks and sat down quickly after that, no doubt that there was a rule about how long you must be seated after your guest you thought. 

“I’m honored you invited me to tea, Riddle,” you smiled, “It’s been a while since we’ve hung out.” 

Riddle agreed, “Both of us have been busy.” 

You nodded, “Yes, midterms have been stressful, to say the least, but I know you’re doing amazing.” 

“You flatter me too much,” Riddle took a sip of tea, he noted that you hadn’t taken a sip yet and chose his next words carefully,  “But you are busier than me, yes? I mean you’re in a thriving relationship right now. That must take a lot out of you.”

Your eyes sparkled at the mention of your relationship, “Kalim is an amazing guy, I’m so lucky to have such a beautiful, kind love! Actually, I was with him before coming here. Honestly, Scarabia is my second home at this point! Hmm…but for what you said, being in a relationship doesn’t make me busier in any way, I just find ways to intermingle Kalim into my usual responsibilities!”

“Oh yes, you two are quite… inseparable.” 

You laughed and continued your mini-rambling about Kalim. Riddle only mentally punched himself, noting that you still hadn’t touched your cup.  

“...And I think I’ve helped Kalim with his grade just a bit while keeping mine up! Oh god, I’m rambling, aren’t I? I’m so sorry, I always get carried away talking about him, I do really love him a lot!” You finish, taking a long swing of your tea and Riddle celebrates a bit in his mind. It was about time, god. 

“It’s fine, everyone can see how much you two care for each other,” Riddle gave you a polite smile, “Makes me hope I can find someone for myself one day.” 

By the end of your tea with Riddle, Kalim somehow didn’t come up anymore and you were back to your calm nature. You thanked Riddle for the afternoon tea and rushed off, saying that you had some dorm activities to take care of. Riddle smiled to himself, you were back to normal right? So that meant you were actually under a spell, huh? 

“It’s too early to celebrate, Riddle!” Riddle was speaking aloud to himself as he cleaned up, “The book I got the potion recipe from said it could be anywhere from ten minutes to 24 hours to take full effect so I’ll reach out to them again in two days…just to be sure!” 

Riddle heard you and Kalim before he saw you two and he knew that the potion didn’t work. You both were loud, giggling in the school’s courtyard during lunch. 

“Hey, I was gonna eat that!” Kalim whined, loudly, “Sweetheart~! Gimme a piece…sunshine, please!” 

“Beg a bit more, handsome~!” 

Riddle mentally punched himself for doubting how much you truly loved Kalim. I mean, why would Kalim even use a spell to make you fall in love? It was nothing like him! Doubting his fellow classmate and house warden was so unbecoming!

“You look perplexed.” 

Riddle nearly jumped two feet in the air and turned to whoever spooked him, “J-Jamil, at least warn someone when you’re gonna talk! Honestly, you nearly scared me half to death. Have you no manners?” 

“I could ask you the same thing, eavesdropping on Kalim and Reader like this,” Jamil said, expression unchanging. 

Riddle cleared his throat and tried to come up with a convincing lie, “I was just…jealous of how in love they were, that’s all.”

Jamil shook his head, “It’s hard to believe to most, I’ve noticed. Even some go as far as saying Reader is under some spell.” 

Riddle fidgeted a bit and Jamil continued, taking notice of Riddle’s slight change in demeanor, “I asked them about it once actually, they’re very aware of what people think. They told me that being with Kalim gave them a kind of peace that they haven’t felt in a long time where they felt they could shed any layers that had been built and just exist. A nonjudgemental, radiating love that’s the type of love they receive from Kalim. One that’s their haven.” 

An understanding of your relationship finally reached Riddle and he smiled softly,  “That’s…lovely. Thank you for telling me, Jamil.” 

Riddle walked off and sighed. Not only did he reach an understanding of your relationship but he reached an understanding of his own—his thoughts on love or rather preconceptions of what love can look like are completely wrong. 

“Perhaps I am actually jealous…of love,” Riddle whispered to himself, “Yes, I think that’s quite right.”

Jamil Viper

Jamil knew all about the rumors that exacerbated his relationship with Reader, they were stupid, at least to him. The two of you got together long before your relationship went public, so why was it so unbelievable that you loved him as much as you did? That sweet, caring side of yours was for him and him alone. Isn’t it normal for people to act slightly differently around their significant others? Why was your change the talk of campus? More importantly, why was it so unbelievable that you could be that happy with him?! The scowl on Jamil’s face grew more and more as he thought about the rumors of him “lovepotioning” you. 

You weren’t lovepotioned! You were just a damn simp! 

A groan escaped his lips and his bad mood could be felt by anyone walking near the sophomore in the halls. Irritating, stupid, dumbasses—everyone at Night Raven, except you. Jamil couldn’t stand them. He made a sharp turn and arrived at his destination, his locker. Swiftly putting in the combination, the locker opened with a loud unintentional bang that echoed bringing almost every conversation in the hall to an abrupt stop and all attention to the vice house warden. 

“What a downer,” some Heartslabyul student said, eyeing Jamil, talking just loud enough for him to hear, “I can’t believe Reader’s with that. No way it’s willingly.” 

“Come on, man don’t say that! He could hear you, he’s right there,” another Heartslabyul  student said to his friend. 

“There are rumors of him using some sort of spell on Reader,” A Pomefiore student spoke up next, “Such as love spells or potions.” 

Jamil pretended not to hear the conversation behind him. 

Don’t entertain stupid people, Jamil.

They’re not worth your time, Jamil. 

That’s what he kept telling himself at least, as he urged his school supplies into his bag faster.

“Don’t care, I mean you’ve seen how the Reader gushes over him. It’s unnatural,” the student crossed their arms, “The love spell rumors have to be true. How does the usually silent, calm, oh-so-ever-popular, and cute barista of Monstro Lounge suddenly become a mindless simp for him! Besides, they could do so much better looks-wise. I mean I think Reader and I would look so much better together…” 

A loud bang rang through the hall, intentional this time as Jamil slammed his locker shut, almost breaking the old, rusted hinges of it. The students who were talking about him stopped, knowing that this was their fault. An eerie silence was setting in the hall and once again Jamil knew all eyes were on him again.

Don’t entertain stupid people, it never ends well. His motto is, you should know. Yet in a moment, the silk-city native found himself in front of the group of gossips. Why? He didn’t know. Maybe he simply had enough. With an icy glare and venom dripping off his tongue, he spoke, “Care to say all that to me directly?” 

The students shook their heads quickly and started stuttering out excuses. 

Jamil clicked his tongue and walked off, he wasn’t a jester meant to entertain after all. 

If God didn’t like Jamil Viper, he could have said that. First, the interaction in the hall, and now here he was standing in Azul’s VIP room. Tweedledee and Tweedledum, Jamil’s mental nicknames for the Leech twins, stood on opposite sides of their boss's desk. A cold and calculated smile from Tweedledee contrasted Tweedledum’s almost crazed look and Azul, of course, sat and smiled at Jamil. 

Jamil wanted to run off or kill them, but he wasn’t sure which yet. 

How did he wind up here exactly? He just wanted to see you, his love, and the only thing keeping him sane at this point but as fate would have it before he could make it to the post that you worked in the lounge today, he was hauled here by the devil’s twin sons.

“Jamil, it’s always nice to see you,” Azul finally spoke, breaking the heavy silence of the room. 

Jamil rolled his eyes, “Funny, I never find myself wanting to see you or them.” 

“You wound me,” the Housewarden covered his heart as if in pain but the playful tint in his eyes contrasted the gesture, “And here I thought we had something special.” 

“What do you want this time?” 

It was Jade who spoke up next, “We know all about the rumors plaguing your relationship with Reader and wanted to clear them up.” 

Floyd cracked his knuckles, “Starfishie is my favorite starfish so if you’re hurting ‘em, I’m gonna have to squeeze ya really tight. Better not be usin’ love potions and spells on ‘em!” 

“You also think I used a love potion on them?” Jamil questioned, “You’ve got to be kidding.” 

“Not exactly,” Azul said pushing up his glasses, “I mean you wouldn’t have to with your signature spell.”  

The implication that he would use his signature spell on you was enough to make Jamil snap.

Through gritted teeth, the vice warden spoke, “Why would you think such a thing? Do you know how much worse that is than thinking I used a potion or some regular dumb spell?” 

Azul’s smile faded, “You act as though you haven’t tried to use it already once to get your way.” 

“And you act as though that ended well!” Jamil raised his voice, “As though you don’t know how I almost ruined my life.” 

“Watch ya tone, sea snake,” Floyd began to walk toward Jamil but Azul’s hand going up swiftly stopped him. 

“The love you have for Reader and the contempt…the hatred you had for Kalim are two sides of the same coin,” Jade spoke as smoothly as ever, “You would understand our worry if you were on our side looking in, would you not?”

“No, because I know how to mind my business, unlike other people at this godforsaken school!” Jamil spoke harshly but his thought was cut short by a knock at the door. 

“Get the door, Floyd,” Azul commanded and Floyd did with no protest, glaring Jamil down as he passed him on the way. He swung the door open and revealed the annoyed form of you at the door.

“Starfishie!” Floyd’s mood seemed to perk up as he greeted you, ushering you in. 

Jamil turned to face you, the scowl he had been sporting for his previous conversation hadn’t left yet. You walked over to him and clung onto his arm, pulling him close before speaking, “I wasn’t expecting you here, love.” 

“I came to see you but Azul wanted to talk,” was all he replied. 

You nodded and then turned to address Azul, “I just came to tell you that the business partner you were expecting is here and that I’ve already clocked out and done all the pre-closing I could for the evening and night shifts.” 

“Thank you, Reader,” Azul continued, “Jade, Floyd, please go greet our guest.” 

The two twins left and Jamil shifted a bit under your grip, you let go and spoke to him, “I’ll meet you up in my room, I have one more thing to talk to Azul about.” 

Jamil nodded and kissed your cheek, without acknowledging Azul. He was thankful that he could leave, any more time in that room wouldn’t have ended well for him or for your boss. You watched your boyfriend leave, only being satisfied when you heard the click of the door meeting the lock and footsteps echoing away.  

“I heard everything, Azul,” You said. 

“I know, I wasn’t expecting anyone important here today,” Azul cleared his throat, “A clever lie, on your part.”  

“I understand why you decided to question Jamil, I know the rumors surrounding our relationship but you took it too far. I love him and that shouldn’t be questioned by you or anyone. He didn’t need a love potion to have my heart, he had it before he even knew,” You turned to leave, “Besides, I asked him to be mine, not the other way around. If anything it would have been me to put a spell on him.” 

As you left, the twins took your place inside Azul’s office. You gave them both an aggravated glance before heading to your room. 

“I don’t like the look starfishie just gave me, do they know?” Floyd pouted, “Awww they’re not gonna let me squeeze ‘em for like a week now that they’re mad!” 

Azul brushed off Floyd’s comments, “Make sure the rumors about Jamil and Reader stop completely, do whatever you like in order to make it happen.” 

Jade bowed a bit, “Of course.” 

Azul rolled his eyes and grabbed his pen from its holder, “It’s the least I can do, after all.” 

Ruggie Bucchi

It wasn’t surprising that rumors always were popping up about your relationship with Ruggie. Ruggie wasn’t known to be trusting, even less so affectionate. Everyone knew that the unofficial vice house warden of Savanaclaw always puts himself first, others only came second and only when he knew he could get something out of it. Well, at least that’s how it was before you wormed your way into his heart. Ruggie looks out for both of you, thank you very much. But, combined with Ruggie’s usual self-preserving attitude and your 180 change when talking about the hyena beastmen everyone came up with a new convincing rumor that would ‘prove’ why you both were together.

He had used a love potion to make you fall in love with him! Duh! 

Yet, even though this rumor was so persistent no one actually bothered to question either of you. I mean if someone truly thought you were “love potioned”, don’t you think someone would try to help you from your non-consensual love? Slip a cure into your drink? Question you? Question Ruggie? 

No, seems like no one cared about you that much, or more like the right person hadn’t heard just yet. 

Silver had just woken up after falling asleep in class, he cursed to himself about it and looked around. Most people were already gone but a few others stuck around, chatting amongst their friends. Silver ignored them and started gathering his stuff to leave.

“Have you heard about Reader?” A student near him spoke to their friend, “Heard that Ruggie lovepotioned them.” 

Silver started gathering his stuff a bit slower.

“What? A love potion? Hmm, I guess it makes sense, I mean have you seen how they dote on Ruggie, it's so odd. And like, they only act like that around him or when talking about him!” 

“Yeah, that’s why people think they’re lovepotioned,” The other student replied, “Anyways, I hope it's just a dumb rumor. Ruggie can be…questionable sometimes but I can’t imagine him doing something like that you know?” 

Silver left the class with a bitter taste in his mouth. Was his friend really lovepotioned? Every rational thought in him said no but isn’t there a possibility? Before he knew it, he found himself confiding in his father about what he heard after class today. 

“If they were truly lovepotioned, the only way to reverse those effects would be drinking an antidote,” Lilia explained, “Love potions are odd, most don’t work the way people think they do so it’s unlikely they’re actually under any effects.”

“So I shouldn’t worry?” Silver questioned. 

“They’re odd,” Lilia explained again, “But then again this school is full of gifted youths who are often misguided, there’s a possibility. How about we create an antidote for this hypothetical love potion and you find a way to give it to them?”

Silver nodded, “If they’re not under the effects of anything, what would happen?” 

“Nothing, everything would be the same and Reader would never know what they drank. You would have to slip it into a drink of theirs though.” 

“Kalim’s throwing a party tomorrow, they should be there,” Silver bit his thumb, deep in thought, “I should be able to do it then.” 

Lilia giggled, “Perfect! Well, let’s get to work shall we?”

Kalim’s parties were usually extravagant, but this one was particularly much. The whole school had to be here, no doubt. Scarabia’s dorm never felt so small as Silver shifted through the crowd, looking for you. 

“Silver!” 

His head turned towards a familiar voice and a smile rose to his face. 

“Hey! You made it!” You greeted him with a small hug and Silver noted that you had a drink already in hand.

Well, that certainly made his job easier. 

“Yeah, I wasn’t expecting this much though,” Silver glanced around, a lot of unfamiliar party-goers seemed to show up. He even caught a glimpse of Riddle and his Vice Warden coming in earlier. His thoughts then shifted, you were alone—Ruggie wasn’t around, “Where’s Ruggie?”

“Food tables,” You giggled, “I was heading over there soon but I didn’t want to lose one of the only seats still here.” 

“I can sit here and you can go grab some stuff,” Silver offered. 

“Great! Hold my drink, please, I’m gonna need both my hands and I will make sure to grab enough for my bestie!” You promised before handing over your drink and disappearing into the crowd. 

Huh. This was going surprisingly well. Silver grabbed the small vial of the antidote out of his jacket pocket and slipped it into your drink. He waited for you before spotting both you and Ruggie with a surprising amount of food between the both of you. 

“I'm back! Thanks, Silver,” you grabbed your drink back from the Diasomnia sophomore. 

Silver nodded. You three shared the food amongst yourselves and hung out for the rest of the night. Silver noted how much you just seemed to love Ruggie, your whole demeanor was just different around him. There was a sparkle in your eyes only for him and you had a different air around you, love, Silver thought. The same was for Ruggie too, which the rumors didn’t note as much as they did your change. 

Love was supposed to look like that, was it not? At least that’s what he thought and what he picked up through stories Lilia sometimes told about the various lovers he’s had throughout the ages. So unsurprisingly, after a week there wasn’t a change in your behavior. Of course, you weren’t lovepotioned but a pang of strong guilt wrapped around Silver for doubting Ruggie and, by extension you. 

He had to come clean to you both about everything. So here he was in Savanaclaw’s common room confessing his sins and expecting some divine judgment from you two. 

“So…that’s everything. I’m sorry for doubting you Ruggie, I should have just asked.” 

Ruggie smiled and ducked his head low, “I can’t believe you would doubt me.” 

Silver gulped, “I really, really was stupid-”  

Silver was cut off by the sound of laughter from Ruggie. 

“God, I’m SO sorry but I tried to take this seriously but geez you look like you just killed someone’s cat and it’s killing me,” Ruggie explained through his laughing fits. 

You elbowed your boyfriend but still was laughing, “Stop! He’s sincerely sorry! It’s not funny!” 

“Why are you laughing then, huh?” Ruggie wiped away tears, elbowing you back.

“Am not!” You coughed and gained your composure, “Silver.” 

“Um…yes?” He questioned, not sure of what exactly was going on.

“I’m so honored that you care about me so much that you would make an antidote for me, truly the bestest friend I’ve ever had. You know no one else would do that, all my other friend’s just like…have stopped talking to me,” You roll your eyes, “You are forgiven.” 

“Thank you,” Silver bowed. 

“BUT!” You added loudly, “Now I owe my significant idiot, money!” 

“What do you mean?” Silver asked, confused once again. 

“We made’a bet. I said that if you found out about the rumor you would try to make an antidote or confront me, but they said you had to already know and decided not to do anything. Shihihi~ How great for me!” 

Silver just smiled at you both, no doubt that you two were made for each other.  

[frogadir]

Hughes commenting on winry being ed and al's "older sister" I forgot that they actually said that in 03... like it doesn't matter that much she and ed can't be more than a year or so apart but tbh I never noticed she was holding a plate of corn in this scene

[shanastoryteller]

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.

[royedismyaesthetic]

I completely forgot about my RoyEd ‘Pushing Daisies’ AU, perhaps because I completely forgot about ‘Pushing Daisies’ in the first place. Did someone write this already? Maybe. Anyway, if you aren’t familiar with the show, it went like this: 

"There once was a pie maker who had a gift. A touch that brought the dead to life. The gift followed these rules. Touch a dead thing once: alive. Touch a dead thing twice: dead again forever. Keep a dead thing alive for more than a minute, something else [in close proximity] has to die."

I think in this world, there is no alchemy, and this is just a sort of gift/curse that Hohenheim has. Trisha dies from the plague before Alphonse can walk, and Hohenheim is devastated. He kisses his dead wife on the lips so she can wake up, and he can say his goodbyes, but he can’t bring himself to kiss her again and make her dead forever. And so, one minute and one second later, the milkman drops dead on their doorstep. Hohenheim is overcome with the guilt of killing an innocent, and to make things worse, he can’t touch his wife again without killing her permanently. So Hohenhiem leaves Resembool and never comes back.

Hohenheim and Trisha thought that their children couldn’t bring people/things back from the dead. It turns out that both of them can, but they only gain this ability after the onset of puberty. Trisha feels well for a long time, but the sickness eventually comes back at full force. When she dies, the boys try to bring her back, but it turns out that someone can only be brought back to life once. 

The boys inherited their mother’s obsession with pie, and so they move to Central City where they open ‘The Pie Hole’, a pie shop which Detective Roy Mustang frequents. Roy doesn’t even like pie all that much. He just goes there to see Ed. Ed has a major crush on Roy, and if he stopped hiding behind the counter all the time, they probably would have hit it off. 

Edward notices when Roy doesn’t show up at the pie shop one day. Roy doesn’t show up the next day either, and so Edward asks around about him. It turns out… Roy’s dead! He’s been murdered! And so was Hughes, not too long ago. No one knows who killed them, but Edward thinks he can figure that out if he brings Roy back to life and asks him about it. Ed and Al go to Roy’s viewing at the funeral home and make sure that they’re the only ones in the room. Edward reaches into the open casket and touches Roy’s hand, while Alphonse takes out a pocket watch and keeps track of the time. 

Roy wakes up and immediately starts hitting on Ed. Ed is terribly flattered and his face is redder than a cherry tomato, but he quickly manages to explain the situation to Roy, who takes the news comically well. Roy doesn’t know who killed him and they continue their flirtatious banter. Al warns Ed that he’s running out of time, and he has to touch Roy again. Ed ignores him. He’s completely enamored with Roy, and lost in Roy’s beautiful eyes. Al’s freaking out now- he’s like, “Brother, what are you doing!? You have to touch him; touch him now!” But it’s only a good deal over the one minute mark that Ed pauses and realizes that he’s fucked up real bad. 

Roy is so confused. “What’s wrong?” he asks. 

“You want to know what’s wrong? I WAS SUPPOSED TO KILL YOU! THAT’S WHAT’S WRONG, BASTARD!”

But now there’s no point in killing Roy, because the funeral director has already dropped dead in Roy’s place. So Roy hides out in Edward and Alphonse’s apartment, and he elicits the brothers’ help in finding Hughes’ killer (and his own killer), by (briefly) raising other recently murdered people from the dead and asking them questions. Meanwhile, Ed and Roy navigate a relationship in which they can never have skin-to-skin contact. They wear gloves around each other and generally keep their distance to avoid any accidents. 

“Can I talk to you about something?” Edward asks Roy. 

“Of course.”

“I worry that… well… You know, let’s say that you found yourself in a position where you loved someone… but you could never ever touch them. Do you think you’d get over them eventually? And move on to someone else that you can do that with?”

“If I loved this person… I would love them in any way I could. And if we could not touch, then I would draw strength from their beauty, and if I went blind, then I would fill my soul with the sound of their voice and the contents of their thoughts, until the last spark of my love for them lit the shabby darkness of my dying mind.”

“...I was just looking for a yes or no answer, but yeah, that’s… that’s good too...”

I don’t think they ever break this ‘curse’ in the show, but they would in this fic (which I may or may not write in full). Maybe something terrible happens, and Roy thinks that he’s going to die, and his final wish is for Ed to kiss him? And Ed does, and his acceptance of death and the nature of life, lifts the curse. Roy lives. and they both live happily ever after.