#Edward elric when I get my hands on you… | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

manias-wordcount · 4 months ago

Note

ok but real one, reader taking care of a sick Edward Elric? I loooove sick fics, give me that half angst half comfort content 🙏🏼 (if you'd like to of course LOL) ((have a good day thx for sharing your stuff <3))

The Best Thing (Edward Elric x Reader)

𝗔/𝗡: 𝗵𝗲𝗿𝗲 𝘆𝗼𝘂 𝗴𝗼! 𝗵𝗼𝗽𝗲 𝘆𝗼𝘂 𝗲𝗻𝗷𝗼𝘆 𝗶𝘁 𝗵𝗲𝗵𝗲𝗵

𝙒𝙖𝙣𝙩 𝙩𝙤 𝙧𝙚𝙖𝙙 𝙢𝙤𝙧𝙚? ⇒ 𝙈𝙖𝙨𝙩𝙚𝙧𝙡𝙞𝙨𝙩

𝙟𝙤𝙞𝙣 𝙢𝙮 𝙙𝙞𝙨𝙘𝙤𝙧𝙙 𝙨𝙚𝙧𝙫𝙚𝙧?

𝙗𝙪𝙮 𝙢𝙚 𝙖 𝙘𝙤𝙛𝙛𝙚𝙚?

He’s been asleep all day despite it already late afternoon. He hasn’t left his room in the inn for more than a few minutes- long enough to use the bathroom, really. And he probably hasn’t eaten anything more than pieces of buttered bread and sliced apples in the past couple of days.

All this to say, he can’t remember ever being this sick in his life.

He’s tired. His body aches. There’s a pocket of pressure stuck up in the bridge of his nose. His eyes keep watering. His nose keeps running. And on top of that, his throat hurts. Yet every time he tries to gulp down water or some tea, nausea hits his stomach like a brick and forces him to lie down again. Only he can’t stay still while lying down. His headache only seems to get worse when he’s not laying in a certain position and he can’t help but shiver out of nearly every position while he attempts to pull his covers impossibly closer to himself all so he could feel warmer. But according to you, his skin is warm and reddish and hot to the touch. A fever he just couldn’t sweat out. Just like the cough he couldn’t shake. And the sneeze he just couldn’t…well, sneeze.

But probably worse of all…he missed his mom.

That’s all he could think about in the few short moments he was awake. How much he missed her. How she always knew what to do. How she always knew how to take care of him. When he was healthy. When he was sick. That was all he could think about.

Sometimes he would hear his brother’s voice when he’d rouse from his sleep. It’d be soft and quiet. And in some moments, he felt like he could no longer hear the clinking of metal armor- almost like this was happening when times were good. When he had both a little brother and a mom. Sometimes, he would hear another voice too. It would be just as soft as Al’s, but it’d be even sweeter. It would often be accompanied by other things too. A kiss on the cheek. The hum of a lullaby. The dabbing of a cool towel against his brow. And even the occasional hand tangling itself through his hair and combing through it softly.

For the longest time, in the fever-induced haze his body was trapped in, he couldn’t help but feel it- feel like it was his mom taking care of him. Taking the burden off my shoulders. Allowing him to feel young and protected and spoiled once more. He couldn’t help but picture that it was his mother this whole time. He just couldn’t help it. He missed her. He needed her. He’s still young. He just wants his mother back. He just wants his mother. That’s all he wants. Really, that’s all he wants.

But when he opens his eyes? When he really opens his eyes to more than just the few centimeters he can barely manage throughout the day, he doesn’t see his mom. He sees you. And he’s reminded by that dull ache in his missing limbs and the fact that he no longer has his mom. That’s she gone and nothing he can say or do will ever bring her back. He knows that intimately. Because he’s tried. So, even still…

“I’m glad you’re here.” He finds himself murmuring as you come to sit down on the side of his bed. You eye him cautiously when you hear him speak. Almost like you weren’t expecting him to talk at the moment (or even be awake). However, it doesn’t stop you from leaning over his torso, bringing the back of your hand up to his forehead, and pressing lightly. Instantly he’s attracted to the coolness of your hand and how it feels against his body. His body has been alternating between feeling too cold and too hot nonstop. But the back of your hand is a welcomed feeling now that his body feels like it’s been lit with a small fire from the inside. As is the towel you bring up to clear the excess sweat away from his forehead. Something he feels just a bit too delirious to feel embarrassed about at the moment. “Thank you…for taking care of me.”

“Oh, Ed…” You coo at him, an impossibly comforting look in your eyes. You’re not his mom. You exist entirely from a point in his life where he was without his mom and was down an arm and a leg. But in his mind, you’re the next best thing. He thinks that when you place a gentle kiss on his cheek and smile against him. He thinks that when you brush the stray hairs off his face and ease him up so he can take a few sips of the water from his cup at the nightstand. He thinks that more than anything when he’s reminded of your patience and care for him as pats his back when coughs up the very same water he was greedily sipping at and cleaning up any of his spills. He thinks that because he knows it is true. “You don’t have to thank me for anything. I’m happy to be here for you.”

And he’ll keep thinking that even in the moments you don’t.

Because to him, you’re an angel. If there’s a higher power out there, then that higher power must have sent you in place of his mother. Because your soft words and sweet kisses and constant affection feel like a healing touch. Or maybe that’s just because he always feels better when he’s with you. Because you make things better. Because you always make him better. In ways that the both of you don’t even know.

And he wants to tell you all this. He does- he really does. But the him that’s usually up and healthy and out and about is rarely sentimental enough to say something that meaningful and important. And the him that exists right now? The one that is starting to struggle with keeping his eyes open? The one that is starting to sway and rock and doze off right in front of you? That one could barely form the words important or meaningful enough to share such a message. In all honesty, he doesn’t even believe that he’ll remember this particular encounter when he’s no longer sick. Or even the next time he wakes up.

But he has to say something. He just has to.

So instead, he just utters an “I love you so much” and hopes you get his message. And as he falls asleep to the feeling of you pressing your lips against his while you murmur, “I love you more,” he’s confident that some part of you knows that you mean the world to him. Because besides his brother, you’re all he really has. And you’re not his mom, sure. But you’ve already proven long, long ago that you’re more than enough. Because you’re perfect. Because you’re an angel. Because you’re the best thing he could ever have in a world without his mom.

And because you just might be the best thing he could ever have even in a world with his mother still living in it.

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fairy-writes · 6 months ago

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hi! if its no trouble for u, could i request an edward elric/reader fluff with a lot of pining coming from him?? i adore your fma fics so much!! <333

TOUCHY

Reblogs and Comments are greatly appreciated!!

__________________________________________________________________________

Fandom(s): Fullmetal Alchemist

Pairing(s): Edward Elric x Reader

Word Count: 2.4k

Genre(s)/Tag(s): Gender Neutral!Reader, Fluff, Pining, Kind of Oblivious!Edward?

Notes: Thank you for liking my silly little FMA fics! I adore writing them!!

__________________________________________________________________________

You were always touchy.

Not in a creepy or perverse way. But in the way that you’d always hold Edward’s hand when out traveling. You’d play with his hair whenever he allowed you to. When you’d make dinner, you’d brush your hand across his shoulders as if reassuring yourself that he was still there as he sat at the kitchen table and rambled about alchemy.

All of which happened more than he liked to admit.

But he couldn’t bring himself to care.

1904

It started when you were young.

His mother had just baked an apple pie, but for whatever reason, wouldn’t let him eat some. Nor Alphonse, who was still just a tiny child at only four years old. Ed himself was five, but that wasn’t the point.

The point was that he couldn’t have any apple pie!

“Get your shoes on, Ed. We’re going out.” His mother called from the kitchen, where she was lacing up Al’s shoes. Ed grumbled but sat down by the front door and obediently started tying his shoes. He looped the bunny ears around one another and tied a sloppy knot, but that didn’t matter.

Maybe his mother would let him have some of that apple pie when they were done getting back from whatever they were doing!

His stomach rumbled at the thought, and his mouth watered, but he pushed on and carefully held his little brother’s hand as his mother carried the pie in one hand and held Al’s free hand in the other.

They stopped at a little house just down the street. Ed frowned and looked up at his mom, but she was watching the people file in and out with armfuls of boxes.

Maybe someone was moving in?

She eventually headed up the three steps to the front door and knocked. Al let go of Ed’s hand and clung to her dress. Ed stood a little behind and jumped as the front door opened. It was an older woman, Ed didn’t know her age as he had never seen her before. Her face split into a polite smile,

“Can I help you?” She asked. Her voice reminded Ed of Granny Pinako’s: kind and welcoming with just a touch of sternness. His mom smiled that winning smile of hers, and she held out the apple pie.

What was she doing?!

“My name is Trisha Elric. These are my sons Edward and Alphonse. We just wanted to welcome you into the neighborhood.” She said, and the woman’s face warmed like a sunrise. She took the pie gratefully and knelt to greet the two boys. Ed scowled. He didn’t like this lady. She got their apple pie!

“My name is Agnes, but everyone calls me Grammy. It’s nice to meet you both.” She said kindly, and Al peeked his head from where he had been hiding it in the fabric of their mother’s dress.

“‘m Al.” He mumbled, and at his mother’s insistence, Ed jabbed a finger at his chest.

“I’m Ed!” He said, still a bit miffed at the idea of not getting any apple pie. Agnes looked behind her and called a name before turning back to the Elric brothers.

“I have a grandchild about your age. I think you’ll like them.” She said cryptically, and you appeared from around the side of the house.

You were dressed in a pair of dirt-covered overalls and carried a bug net over your shoulder. You had a grin decorating your features that put Winry’s to shame as you scampered up the steps.

“Grammy! What’s that?!” You chirped, and your grandmother gestured to the boys and their mother.

“These are the Elric’s. They brought us a pie to welcome us to our new home. Can you say hello?” She said gently, and you turned, dropping your bug net and throwing your arms around Ed and Al with a cheer.

“Thank you for the pie!”

Ed pushed you off stubbornly, and Al froze stiffly. You stumbled a bit from his push, but your smile didn’t disappear in the slightest. You turned to Agnes and pointed at them,

“Can they come in and have some pie, Grammy?” You asked, and Ed perked up the slightest bit. (Not that he’d admit it.)

Agnes hemmed and hawed before looking to their mother.

“Would it be alright? I don’t want to keep you if you’re busy.” She said, and their mother looked down at the two young children.

“What do you think, boys?” She asked, and before Al could even get a word in, Ed piped up.

“Yes!” He said, and his mom raised an eyebrow. He deflated slightly at the look. “Yes, please.” He mumbled, and she smiled.

“If it isn’t too much trouble, we’d love to share some with you.”

And that kickstarted your friendship.

1905

“Ed! Al! There you are!” Your voice carries up the hill where the brothers are reading under a tree. Ed looks up and scowls when he sees you tromping up the hill with a basket in one hand and your ever-trusty bug net in the other.

He didn’t want to see you right now.

You’d just pull them away from their research.

From however close they were to bringing their mother back to life.

You made it to the top of the hill and flopped down next to them, swinging your legs over Ed’s as you dug through the basket. Al sat up immediately, his stomach rumbling already as you begin to pull out sandwiches and thermoses of something to drink.

“Granny Pinako said you guys hadn’t eaten yet, so Grammy made you lunch!” You said and tried to hand Ed a sandwich. He pushed it away.

“We aren’t hungry.” He snapped and looked over to where Al was already stuffing his face with a sandwich. You raised an eyebrow as his own stomach groaned and his face flushed pink.

Ed angrily took a sandwich and unwrapped it, shoving half in his mouth to your surprised squawk.

“You’ll choke!”

“I’m fine!” He garbled out through his mouthful and chewed, stubbornly refusing to look at you. You had adjusted in a half-circle to lay your head in his lap, gently pushing the book he had been reading out of the way. However, you carefully saved his spot with the scrap of paper he had used as a bookmark before pushing it aside.

At least you didn’t dogear the page.

“What are you guys working on?” You asked, and Al shut his book quickly before you could get a peek.

“It’s a secret!” He said quickly, and you frowned, reaching up to poke Ed’s nose. He swatted your hand away.

“Alright… I won’t pry. It’s probably alchemy anyway, and that stuff makes my head hurt. Just… Don’t get hurt, okay?” You say seriously, and Ed blinks. You weren’t going to pry? You were one of the nosiest people he knew! You were always asking questions, dumb or not. It was one of the reasons he liked hanging around you.

1910

When Ed opened his eyes, he was met with a familiar ceiling.

What?

The last thing he remembered was… What was the last thing he remembered?

A white room.

A set of stone doors.

Oh… Right…

“You’re awake!” Comes your voice, and he turns to the left to see you sitting at his bedside, a book in your lap and an empty glass of water on the bedside table. You smiled at him, shut your book, and set it aside.

“Where am I?” He asked, his voice cracking from disuse. How long had he been unconscious?

“At Granny Pinako’s. It’s been two days. Al brought you here after…” You trailed off, and your expression saddened.

Al!

Where was his little brother?!

You must’ve noticed the panic on his face and put a hand on his to keep him from freaking out. It worked better than he would’ve liked to admit.

“Al’s okay. He’s helping Granny Pinako in the kitchen. I can go fetch him if you’d like.” Ed nodded, and you smiled once again, patting his hand before leaving the room.

Al tumbled in soon after, the relief evident in his new tinny armored voice.

“Brother! You’re awake!” He exclaimed. Ed simply grinned, suddenly feeling very exhausted despite having just woken up. He slumped back against his pillows, feeling almost… empty, as memories rushed back to him.

Human Transmutation.

Their mother. Or rather what was supposed to be their mother.

The Truth.

Losing his limbs.

He looked down, spotting where his right arm and left leg used to be. They were really gone…

“Y’know, they stayed by your side the entire time.” Al’s voice breaks him from his reverie. He looked over at his brother with a frown.

“Who?” Al chuckles and jerks his head toward the door where you had left them. He was mature for a ten-year-old, but then again, he had to be.

“They didn’t leave your side the entire two days you were sleeping. They even held your hand, too!” He said.

Ed squirmed in his bed, cheeks flushed pink, and avoided his teasing younger brother’s gaze. Al’s tone of voice indicated that he was having fun teasing Ed. He always had way too much fun teasing him when it came to you.

And Ed could never figure out why.

1911

“You can’t!” You cried, catching Ed’s arm as he packed his suitcase. He was almost ready. Ready for the State Alchemist’s exam. Ready to get their bodies back. There was only one thing in the way and that was you.

“Why not?” He snapped back, pulling his automail hand from your grip and shoving his notes in his suitcase.

“Because you know how I feel about the military! You know what they’ll have you do?! They’ll have you kill people!” You exclaimed, and he scowled down at his folded clothes.

But he doesn’t say anything.

Because what can he say? He knew full well how you felt about the military. You had opposed their place in Ishval the moment you knew what was happening, even as a child. You opposed the genocide of the Ishvalan people to the point it would get you in trouble at school.

Ed knew he wouldn’t be able to refuse if he became a dog of the military. He wouldn’t be able to say no. But this is one of the only chances he has to get Al’s body back.

So he had to go.

And in going, he left you behind.

1911

He did it.

He was officially a member of the military.

A State Alchemist.

A dog.

Ed leaned his head on the train window as he watched the scenery pass by. Resembool was but a few hours away, and then he’d see Al again. See Winry and Pinako. See Grammy. See you.

Would you hate him for joining the military? He had left early in the morning before you woke up, so he didn’t get to see you one last time before leaving for his exam. Al, Winry, and Pinako had seen him off, and he thought that was good enough.

So why did his heart ache in his chest?

The ride to Resembool was thankfully uneventful, and soon, he was home. His automail creaked a bit; he had forgotten to maintain it in the few days he had been at Central. But that didn’t matter. He slung his suitcase over his shoulder and made the long walk back to Rockbell Automail.

Den alerted everyone to his presence by barking. Al came rushing out around the side of the house in excitement as soon as he heard his brother’s voice. Winry peeked her head out her balcony window and waved before ducking back inside to work on whatever project she had been working on. And Granny Pinako came out to greet him.

Ed heard the pattering of feet just as he opened the front door before he was quite literally tackled to the ground.

It didn’t take much to realize who exactly had tackled him.

It was you!

He managed to sit up before you were throwing your arms around his neck and nearly knocking him over again.

“You idiot! You left without saying goodbye!” You whispered, and he just hugged you back in a rare show of affection.

“Sorry.” That was all he managed.

You didn’t hate him.

You still cared.

And for some reason, that was better than anything else.

1915

They had done it.

Father was defeated.

Al had his body back. Ed had his arm back, but that paled in comparison to the fact that Al had his body back.

Already, his younger brother had quite the appetite but was forced to stick to soups and soft foods while he got used to having a mouth and stomach again. He was supposed to start physical therapy as soon as he was given a clean bill of health.

There was a knock on their shared hospital door, and he looked up from where Winry was fixing up his automail leg. Who was here? It wasn’t Granny Pinako. She was getting too old to travel now. It wasn’t Grammy. She had passed away last year from an illness. Was it you? Or was it someone from the military?

It was the former.

You tumbled in with a bouquet of flowers and their names on your lips.

“Granny said—” You come to a halt when you see Al sitting up in bed, eating slowly with some help from a nurse. Tears well up in your eyes, and the flowers in your hands begin to tremble.

“You made it!” Winry exclaimed and got up to embrace you. You seemed to be on cloud nine as you gave her a hug, then Al, and then stood before Ed. Your lower lip wobbled, and he vaguely heard Winry and the nurse helping Al out of the room to give you both some privacy.

“You have your arm back.” You said softly, and he held it up, flexing the nonexistent muscles almost as proof. Your tears welled up once again, and you set the flowers down on the bedside table before you hugged him tightly. He wraps his arms—both of them—tightly around your middle and pulls you almost into his lap. Your head nestles in the crook of his shoulder, and he can hear your sniffles as you cry tears of joy.

You were always touchy.

But he didn’t mind it one bit.

#fullmetal alchemist x reader #edward elric x reader #ed elric x reader #fma x reader #fmab x reader #fullmetal alchemist edward x reader #fullmetal alchemist edward elric x reader #fairy writes

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stackslip · 2 months ago

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i mean to be fair to manga/brotherhood edward elric, he is a completely different character than his 03 counterpart. his function is first and foremost to be a fun, exciting shounen protagonist who vaguely breaks some of the trope's mold by being openly abrasive and selfish and physically weaker than many 90s/early 2000s shounen protags were. and he fulfills that role pretty well within the context of the story, he's genuinely very entertaining and fun and Relatable for a teen audience chafing against authority and adults looking down on you. so im never gonna say mangahood ed elric is like, a bad character when his concept is perfectly executed. im gonna be critical of say, several plot points about him (like the xerxes thing) or how he treats scar and ishbal (my problem here being less him and more that the narrative entirely validates his point of virw around the subject), but i cant deny that in reading fma he is a very endearing and fun protag to follow, and that's his primary function so.... yknow. that's fine.

in opposition, 03 ed elric is.... not meant to be nearly as relatable or fun, and the narrative is also a lot more critical of his actions, which i think is part of why to a lot of og fma fans he feels *off* and uncomfortable. he's not meant to be a funny audience stand-in or representative of teenagers saving the day despite abrasive shitty adults. if anything, his age and inexperience and trauma lead to him making mistakes, chasing the wrong leads, playing right into the hands of people much older and powerful and him lashing out or lying to himself to protect himself and alphonse. 03's slower pace and lack of budget also means that ed rarely gets to be a cool action hero and be super strong in battles. it's not nearly as triumphant or empowering, it's uncomfortable to see him be much more openly, humanly flawed, and to suffer and take away the wrong lessons from this suffering. it's also purposefully uncomfortable to see so many actions that mangahood treats glibly or shy away from ed's responsibility in awful things, being instead brought to the forefront in agonizing detail and for ed to be forced to confront them despite his pleas and denial and attempts to run from it!

because 03 ed isnt a shounen protagonist tbh. sure, he is an audience stand-in insofar that he, along the audience, is forced to confront a lot of uncomfortable truths about the system he's wilfully chosen to be part of. his flaws are relatable inasmuch that they're deeply human ones: wouldn't you too choose denial when confronted with the unwilling results of your actions? if you felt like you'd failed the one you loved most in the world, wouldn't you be a mass of guilt and trauma and passively suicidal about it? when confronted with your prejudices, would you really nod sagely and accept them or would you feel uncomfortable and struggle to accept that your framework has been flawed from the beginning?

but even so, he can be frustrating to the audience. his refusal to say out loud what the audience already knows re sloth and having created a homonculus. how his attempts at action get stopped or play right into others' wider manipulations. how he tries so hard to deny homonculi's humanity, his prejudices and racism towards ishbalans being a lot more blatant and clearly wrong. his admitted lack of regard for others if it means al is safe. he's not nearly as fun, here! he's a product of his environment, someone who could easily take the same path his father and dante embarked on, someone who could so easily become the "perfect" alchemist and quit having regard for human life altogether. his compassion is something he has to learn, his arrogance as a facade for his pain is one that crumbles progressively. he learns very slowly, sometimes makes one step back for every step forward. he has to learn to slow down and accept reality as it is, that there are many things that he cannot understand but that he has a responsibility to others and the world anyway, and this means listening. it means not cutting himself away from the world and viewing himself on a pedestal. it means taking a leap of faith, sometimes. swallowing your pride and accepting responsibility and that it is up to you to fix what you've started. you cant go back to an idealized state, because it never existed in the first place!

sure, it means this ed isnt as exciting or fun or cocky. he's insecure, he's traumatized, he's stubborn and brash in ways that aren't fun. but hot damn it he isnt so much more fascinating and nuanced than his original counterpart! a deeply tragic, layered, mature character. what a shame, how many people dont know about him or refuse to accept him because he isnt as funny or comforting as the manga

#eli talks #fma 2003 #fma

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physalian · 9 months ago

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The Hero with Dead Parents is not Cliché, it’s Necessary

The staggering number of protagonists in sci-fi and fantasy with dead parents grows every single year. Frodo Baggins, Harry Potter, Luke Skywalker (before the retcon in ESB), almost every Disney Prince and Princess, the Baudelaire children. Beyond the realm of fantasy into action, thriller, romance, mystery, slice-of-life, and bildungsromans.

Dead parents, or parent, is the curse of being the hero of the story and for a very good reason:

Parents are inconvenient as f*ck.

Unless the mom and/or dad is the villain of the story or the entire story is about the relationship with the parent/parents, the “dead parent” trope serves many purposes and while it may be “cliché” that doesn’t mean this trope is bad or, in my opinion, overused.

It’s one less liability the hero has to worry about protecting

It’s one less obstacle in the hero’s path to their adventure

It’s one (or two) less characters to find excuses to stay relevant in the story

It’s a juicy backstory a lot of people can relate to

Trauma. Is. Compelling.

It’s an excellent motivation

And their murder is an excellent inciting incident

Living parents and guardians get killed off both for internal plot reasons, and meta writing reasons: Living parents are a pain in the ass to keep up with. You’re stuck with a character your hero should still keep caring about, keep thinking about, keep acting in relation to how their actions will be seen and judged by that parent. That parent becomes an obvious liability by any villain who notices or cares.

Living parents can of course be done well, unless they’re the villain, but they just kind of sit there on the fringes of the plot, waiting around to be relevant again and they kind of come in four flavors:

There when the plot demands for pie and forehead kisses (Sally from Percy Jackson)

A suffocating but well-meaning obstacle in between the character and their independence trying to do right (Abby from The 100, Katniss’ mom from Hunger Games, Spirit from Soul Eater)

A mentor figure (Valka from HTTYD 2, Hakoda from ATLA)

The only rock this character has left (Ping from Kung Fu Panda)

*Notice how many of my examples lost their partners shortly before or during the plot, thus still giving the hero the “dead parent” label.

Most of these are self-explanatory so I’ll say this: I think this trope gets exhausting when the parents are written out without enough emotional impact on the hero. These are their parents and a lot of the time, the emotional toll of losing them isn’t there, like just slapping a “dead parents” sticker is all you need to justify a character’s tragic backstory and any behavioral issues they might have.

Like, yes, the hero has dead parents, but you still have to tell me what that means to them beyond obligate angst and sadness. When the “dead parents” trope reads as very by-the-numbers, usually the rest of the story is, too.

How present the parents were in the character’s life should be proportional to the death’s impact on the narrative (as with any character you kill off). If they were virtually nonexistent? No need to waste a ton of time. If they didn’t matter to the character before, they don’t need to matter now unless the plot revolves around some knowledge or secret their parent never shared.

Sometimes, the hero’s dead parents are a non issue. Frodo being raised by Bilbo doesn’t impact his character at all. It’s a detail given and tossed away. On the other hand, sometimes the entire centerpiece of the work is revenge/justice/catharsis surrounding the parent’s death—Edward and Alphonse Elric’s entire story is defined by the consequences of trying to bring their mother back from the dead.

As someone who kept one of my protagonist’s parents alive and didn’t make them villains just to spite the trope, I have all the more respect for this enduring legacy of fiction. You can of course keep the parents alive, but I don't think it's seen as lazy or cheating or taking a shortcut just killing them off, so long as you remember that your hero is human and should react to losing them like a real person.

#writing advice #writing resources #writing tips #writing tools #writing a book #writing #writeblr #character design #character development #fantasy #scifi #dead parents

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queenoftheantz · 9 months ago

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Top 5 Anime/Manga characters of all time and why?

oh wow hmmm....

Completely subjectively:

Oikawa Tooru (haikyuu!!)

Oikawa... he is just yknow. My Character. But I also often in my daily life have a little Oikawa in my head reminding me that my passion is my passion because it's fun and I love it. That talent and skill are intertwined but also not static or pre-determined, that I might not be as good as I think I should be, and I might never be, but if I don't try I definitely won't. Maybe I will reach my goal today, or tomorrow, or in 30 years. And I can do it at the pace and path that suits me. He speaks of all this AS WELL as the very bitter feelings that preceeds these revelations. I also really love his focus on facilitating others, of reaching potential together, of trust and faith in his team and their in him!

2. Marcille Donato (Dungeon Meshi)

Oh Marcille. (Manga spoilers here) Marcille started out so silly and to be honest? Annoying? Girly and anxious and squemish. But then you realise that these parts are absolutely true, but she is also determined and loyal and scared and unafraid and skilled. The firly and squemish becomes charming in contrast to her being excited to experience death and morally ambigious enough to use ancient magic or become a dungeon lord. And then you learn even more about her and her family, the way she grew up and how she probably is... pretty young, considering everything. The knowledge and life experience of someone being 40 maybe, but with the brain to handle it of a 19 year old... she is so afraid for everyone to die away and yet she cant help but love people! Isn't that lovely!? And as someone very afraid to lose my parents I really really feel for her relationship with her father. I think Marcille was a character who really illustrates the progression of tone in Dungeon meshi, represents the themes of the story so well, and really grew on me. Also gay. hi.

3. Shinji Ikari (Neon Genesis Evangelion)

I know people don't like this guy but he shaped me so much as a teen. I think his journey through lacking self-esteem and depression and self hatred is both fascinating, nuanced and in the end, encouraging! Imagine being offered to join humanity all as one, never feel rejected or alone again and then DESPITE all he has gone through, chosing to be yourself after all! And frankly I love that the show lets him be cowardly and weak and unsympathetic, it makes him more real and make his strong moments stronger. Also gay. hi

4. Mob (Mob psycho 100)

Mobs story is more low key, but I also enjoy a story about a young boy who FIRST has to find the motivation to improve himself, and THEN has to realise that improving yourself and being a good person does not necessarily mean to surpress any negative or strong emotions. Once again, a story about acceoting yourself, even the sides you have a hard time controlling and find off-putting or scary. And I think Mob gets to realise this in a silly and gently way!

5. Abe takaya (ookiku furikabutte)

Oh Abe. It's that one page. When he is explaining to Sakeaguchi his backstory with Haruna, and he is talking about it so casually, it's no big deal, but you can tell. "Everyone is afraid of pain". It makes my heart clench every time. It's his control-issues, his fast felling into caring about Mihashi as a person, but then slowly realising what that actually means. It's him being shocked by the smile, it's him doing anything to win, it's him not realising how mean he is. In a different story Abe would have been a bully. But fortunately for him Momoe and the team and Mihashi himself are not putting up with any of it and he slowly and also gently improves himself. I gotta catch up with oofuri. (also gay. hi)

Shout outs to: Hinata Shoyo (of course), Mihashi Ren (also of course), Edward Elric, Sophie (Howls moving castle movie), Reigen (im not immune), Tamaki (ohshc, sometimes i just think about him and hes so charming and fun and i relate), Kanamori (Keep your hands off Eizouken!, shes just. so cool. It's a fun show but every time shes on screen im blushing a bit shes just! Wow!), and the straight college student from one of my fave BL's who has to go on a personal journey to accept that he actually likes a man who's bigger and taller than him and has a big ass. Shoutouts to him too.

#antswers #Anonymous #recs

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peapodsinspace · 2 months ago

Text

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.

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.

#pea pods writes #yay!!#fics #fanfics #cross posted on ao3 #fma #fmab #fullmetal alchemist #fullmetal alchimist brotherhood #fma fanfiction #fmab fanfiction #alphonse elric #roy mustang #gen fic #platonic relationships #hurt/comfort #hope y’all like this :]#I’m gonna try and put my other fics on here too!

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griseldabanks · 7 months ago

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Let Me Count the Ways ask game

Requested by @bunnyscar

Fandom: FMA (Foster Family AU) Characters: Roy Mustang and Edward Elric Prompt: "I can't believe I'm telling you this."

From the day he and Riza had decided to become foster parents, Roy had known his life would be forever changed. Their daily routines would have been disrupted no matter who they ended up with, but how much more so when the first children to grab their attention were two heavily traumatized boys, one with anger issues and only one leg, the other who didn't say a word and kept on trying to smuggle stray cats inside under his shirt.

It had been three years, and Roy thought he was well prepared for anything Ed and Al decided to throw at him. They'd lived through the night terrors and panic attacks. Al had finally started speaking, though he still tended to clam up around strangers because of the stutter he'd developed. After numerous shouting matches and slammed doors, Ed finally seemed to have mellowed out a bit, though he still turned his heavy metal music up loud when he was annoyed at Roy.

But Al called him 'Dad' now. And though Ed didn't, sometimes he would skip the grousing and griping and send a grin Roy's way that warmed him from head to foot. Maybe those two things meant he was actually doing an okay job at this.

But Ed always loved to keep him on his toes. One afternoon, during their usual game of chess once the day's lessons were over, while Riza took Al to his speech therapist, Ed said, “Hey, um...can I...ask for some advice?”

“Sure,” Roy said. “Move that pawn; my knight is about to take it.”

“What? No, not like that!” He moved the pawn anyway. “It's just...you're, like, married and stuff, right?”

Roy raised an amused eyebrow. “Yes, I am in fact 'married and stuff.'”

Ed shot him a dirty look, but plowed on anyway. “So you, like...you know...you've been on dates before. I mean, you had to have asked Riza out at least once before you got married, yeah?”

Straightening up from his contemplation of the board, Roy eyed the pink tinge of Ed's cheeks and started putting two and two together. “There's someone you're thinking of asking out?”

Ed hunched down in his chair, making himself even smaller than usual. “Knew I should've kept my mouth shut,” he mumbled.

Roy eyed his foster son, trying to suppress a gleeful smirk at the same time as a wave of wistfulness crashed over him. He should have known this day was coming. Ed was fifteen. He was starting to grow up.

“Don't worry, you've come to the right place,” he finally said, moving his bishop across the board. “As you so astutely pointed out, I have been on at least one date and managed not to screw it up long enough for us to get married. Clearly, I know a thing or two.”

Never mind the time Riza had slapped him so hard he saw stars when he got drunk and started flirting with someone else. And they wouldn't get into the crippling guilt that ate away at him for years after they discovered he couldn't give her the children she'd always wanted. Nor the way he pulled away from her in shame, thinking she resented him, while she spent the whole time worrying that he resented her. The important thing was that they'd worked through these issues, and they were still together. That had to count for something.

“So who is it?” he prompted when Ed just sat there, turning one of his captured pawns over and over in his hands.

“Does it matter?”

“Of course it does,” Roy said patiently. “Believe it or not, there's not just some magic formula to make any girl instantly fall in love with you. Every girl is different.” And I'm curious to find out who on earth could have caught the attention of my prickly homeschooled son.

Ed slid down even farther in his chair and stared up at the ceiling over Roy's head. “Ugh, I can't believe I'm telling you this....” He hesitated, his face going redder and redder till it was almost the same shade as his favorite hoodie. Finally, he mumbled, “It's Winry.”

“Ah....” Roy supposed he should have guessed that right away. They'd been friends their whole lives, neighbors for a large chunk of their childhood, and then Winry's grandmother had become the boys' legal guardian after the car crash. They didn't see each other as much now that they lived across the city, especially now that Winry was in high school. But when they'd gone to her tap-dance recital around Christmastime, Ed had gone strangely silent and awkward, barely saying a word to her when they met her after the show.

“There's...her school has a prom in May,” Ed mumbled. “And I...kinda wanna ask her? But like...what if I ask her and she says no? Or she just laughs at me? As if I know how to dance. I'll probably just end up stepping on her foot with this.” He kicked up his prosthetic leg, the one he usually wore around the house that looked nothing like a human appendage.

“Let me clue you in on a little secret,” Roy said, thinking back to his own awkward prom days. “Nobody knows how to dance at those things. Just put your hands on her shoulders and sway a little, and that should be enough. Or you could have her show you a few pointers.”

“That's if she says yes.” Now Ed looked faintly green. He stared up at the ceiling for a minute, then sat up straight and leaned forward almost desperately. “What if this ruins everything? What if I tell her how I feel and she turns me down and then everything's all awful forever and we can never be friends anymore? I don't wanna do that! If she doesn't wanna go out with me, I can't just...never talk to her again! Maybe I should just not say anything and just stay the way we are...but when I'm around her, I just...all I can think about is....” With a growl of frustration, he buried his face in his hands.

Roy tried to remember what it was like to be fifteen, the way a single glance or a single smile from a pretty girl could make all of his insides feel like they were on fire. In many ways, he was grateful for the age gap between him and Riza; three years was nothing to them now, but at the age of fifteen, he'd never even considered dating the scrawny twelve-year-old down the street. None of those complicated feelings had interfered with getting to know her until they were both older and much more mature.

“I think you should tell her,” Roy said. “Winry's a smart girl; it won't take her long to figure it out for herself. If she doesn't suspect already,” he added with a smirk.

“But what if she just laughs at me?” Ed moaned.

“What makes you think she would do that?”

Hunching his shoulders, Ed mumbled, “When we were, like, five...I kinda...asked her to marry me. And....” He took a deep breath, then finished in a rush, “Then she laughed and turned me down because she said she'd never marry anybody who was shorter than her!”

It was a good thing Roy had a good poker face. It was a good thing he'd had occasion to practice it quite often as a father of two teenage boys. Even so, he had to bite the inside of his lip to keep from bursting out laughing at the look on Ed's face.

“Well, say something!” Ed scowled down at his fists clenched on his knees, his face still red as a tomato.

Once he took a deep breath and cleared his throat, Roy dared to speak and found that his voice was level. “So...you're worried she's of the same opinion ten years later?”

Ed sank back into his chair with a defeated sigh, nodding glumly.

Roy laced his fingers together, striving with all his might to keep his voice neutral. “We are just talking about prom here. It's not like you're asking her to marry you. Again.”

With a groan, Ed covered his face in his hands. “I knew I shouldn't have said anything!”

“My point,” Roy persisted, “is that she might see things very differently now. You aren't the same as you used to be, and neither is she. The way I see it, you have two options: ask her, and risk her saying no. Or don't ask, and be okay with the knowledge that somebody else probably will.”

Slowly, Ed straightened up. Roy could practically see the gears whirring in his brain. His eyes blazed at the suggestion that someone might beat him to it, that some other boy would end up dancing with her through the night, maybe earning a kiss at the end....

Ed shot to his feet. “Okay,” he said firmly. “Okay. I'm asking her. I'm...I'm gonna do it!”

He marched out, barely even seeming to see Roy anymore. Roy just smirked fondly after him and put the forgotten chess pieces back into place. They could count this game as a draw.

A minute later, Ed thumped back into the room, looking sheepish. “Uh...I don't know how to ask her.”

“Sit down,” Roy said with a smile. “Let's brainstorm some options.”

#ask games #let me count the ways #full metal alchemist #fullmetal alchemist #fma #foster family au #roy mustang #edward elric #parental!royed #edwin and royai mentioned #believe it or not this was actually the first idea i came up with for this au #but i procrastinated on writing it because it's - horror of horrors! - light-hearted and humorous XD

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pinkcupofcherrytea · 5 months ago

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RoyEd Week 2024: Day One

Prompt: "Need a hand?"

Regency/Pride and Prejudice!AU, Friends (?) with Benefits, They Haven’t Confessed Yet But It’s A Thing For Sure, Involuntary Dancing.

Warnings: Some mentioned NSFW. Comment: This was supposed to be way longer and more strictly follow the Pride and Prejudice-formula (with added nsfw-scenes, lol). But I was lazy, and ran out of time, so this is what came of it in the end. Thanks to @royedweek2023 for hosting this week!❤️

[You are the bane of my existence. And the object of all my desires. - Bridgerton]

The opulence and brilliance of Lord Armstrong's ballroom had managed to give Roy a headache, or maybe it was just the continuous tittering of Mrs. Weignar that furthered it. Roy tries to be discreet, glancing around the hall until he catches Riza's dark blue dress in the corner.

Please, save me, he gestures.

No, she blinks back.

They have no sign for "you're evil" so Roy sighs and resigns himself to another evening of polite small talk and some equally polite fendering off the hands of sons and daughters of ambitious mothers wishing for a profitable union. Just as Roy considers using Aunt Chris's tried and true method of faking a fainting spell to get out of the conversation, a small buzz is heard close to the entrance, and he turns his head to catch the big smile of Maes and his wife, the latter clad elegantly in pale lavender and matching gloves.

Behind them stride two golden figures.

Roy grins inwardly, and politely bids Mrs. Weignar and her daughter goodbye. "I must greet my old friend Mr. Hughes, you see, hope you will excuse me."

"Mustang!" Maes greets jovially when Roy gets close. "Thought I'd see your face here. Now where is lady Hawkeye? Surprised to see her letting you lose on the innocent crowd."

"I thought it prudent to let him socialize, lest he closes himself of in his estate and decides to communicate with the world entirely through letters," Riza smoothly joins in.

"The both of you have such a low opinion on my character," Roy says, and the buzz of the hall isn't loud enough for the following mutter of "The correct opinion" to go unheard.

Roy smiles, turns toward the sound and makes sure his voice is annoyingly polite when he says, "Mr Elric, how nice of you to join us this evening."

Edward's eyes flashes when he tips his head back slightly to meet Roy's eyes. "Didn't have much of a choice."

"What my brother meant to say-" Alphonse smoothly cuts in, "is that it's always a pleasure to see you, Mr Mustang, Lady Hawkeye."

Riza greets both brothers and Roy nods warmly at Alphonse, but can't help but quickly look down (ha!) to meet Edward's eyes again. "It has been a while since our last acquaintance," Roy says. "The gathering at McDougal Hall, I believe?" Edward snorts. "I haven't exactly counted the days." Roy had. Considering it was the last time he'd had the chance to fuck Edward into a wall and bury his tongue in his mouth while doing it, Roy had in fact counted the days until he got to do it again. And from the brief flash in Edward's eyes when he mentioned the event, Roy would bet the young man has a similar idea. McDougal Hall was crowded and noisy. It was all too easy to slip away from the festivities and then find an empty room in what Roy was pretty sure was close to the servants' wing. Edward's eyes following him, ablaze, from the other side of the room, making sure his brother was busy dancing with a pretty brunette before sneaking after Roy. He pulls Edward into the room, and soon their usual dance of push and pull, warmth and wetness starts as they kiss deeply. The heat in Edward's eyes was finally put to rest when he closed his eyes and moaned into the kiss as Roy pulled his shirt out of his pants.

The Edward of now looked away, and accepted the glass Hughes gave him with a murmur of thanks.

The night continued, and despite some attempts to catch Edward alone, Roy gets pulled into conversation, and by the time he looks out over the hall again, the sky outside the windows is fully dark, and Edward is gone. Roy straightens and looks for the familiar shine of gold among those present, but only catches Alphonse talking happily to the Hugheses .

At least that meant Edward was still here.

As he starts to walk over to where his dearest friend is, Roy catches a flash outside one of the larger windows close to the door leading to the estate's rose-cladden balcony. Walking closer, he catches a glimpse of someone that was surely Edward walking down the steps into the sparsely lit up garden.

After making sure no one is looking his way, Roy slips out the door. He walks closer to the large balcony's edge and finally sees Ed's smaller figure sprawling on one of the stone benches down in the garden, surrounded by some smaller trees that probably gave the illusion of privacy. Leaning down on the cool stone, Roy allows himself a moment to just....watch.

Edward in silence and solitude was a rare occurrence, often only seen when catching him in the library with his nose stuck in a book, so Roy spends a few seconds looking as Edward tips his head back and visibly takes a couple of deeper breaths.

Roy pushes himself up from where he'd leaned on his elbow and leaves the glass on the balcony as he strides down into the garden.

A familiar, small wrinkle appears between Edward's eyebrows as he hears Roy get closer, but when he sees who it is it smooths out and he says, "Oh, it's only you."

"Do not sound so disappointed," Roy says, "It hurts my feelings."

"You have feelings?"

"Very funny."

"I always am." Edward makes a gesture with his gloved hand and Roy cannot hold back an undignified snort. He catches Edward grinning before he looks down. "What are you doing out here, anyway? Did you get tired of stomping at innocent debutantes' feet?"

Roy sits down on the bench next to Edward. "I don't know if you are insinuating that I am a bad dancer, or if you are sneakily trying to get me to abuse your poor feet, but I am willing to take you up on the challenge, Edward."

Edward glares at him. "Do I look like a high-strung debutanté to you? No- don't you dare, don't answer that question," Edward quickly adds as he sees Roy open his mouth to answer.

Roy grins at Edward, then cocks his head. "I do not think I've ever seen you abuse someone's feet, though, Edward, nor do I recall you successfully partaking in social dancing either. Maybe you should prove yourself capable before questioning my dancing skills."

“I don’t need to prove anything to you,” Edward says. “It’s not like I ever learnt how to dance, anyhow.”

He raises an eyebrow at Roy’s surprised blink, then throws his head back and groans, “For heaven’s sake, do you really believe that all people spend a significant amount of their childhood learning how to dance at these pompous events? I don’t know what silver spoon you were born with in your mouth, Mustang, but I had better things to do than learn the quadrille.”

Roy, in lack of anything else to say, says, “Yes, I’m sure your education was too preoccupied with other things rather than the fine arts, but you’ve spent more than eight months at the ton now, shouldn’t Hughes have made sure to have you taught by now?”

Edward just snorts, then closes his eyes again.

“Have better things to do, thanks.”

Roy remains silent at that and rises from the bench, stretching furtively before looking down at the golden crown of Edward's head.

Edward Elric inspired whispers wherever he went. Not so much for any specific action taken or honour besmirched, but rather for his entire being, his bearance and air, being eye-catching. It brought the air of scandalousness–his long hair tied behind him, his red coat and loud speech, short stature but carrying heavy steps–without there ever being any evidence of unconducted behaviour. It probably would be the cause of real concern for his guardians hadn't Edward shown a complete disregard for the attention and uproar his being naturally caused.

Always noticeable, that Mr. Elric, even when always preferring a book before hunting or riding. It wasn’t his lack of fortune that made mothers pull away their bright-eyed, eager daughters who fluttered around hoping to catch Edward’s fetching golden eye, rather it was the weary thought that surely that boy was too much, not proper, set to ruin their children’s honour…? Obsession was an unpredictable feeling, yet it was that very thing that Edward Elric, not yet twenty, inspired whenever he broke his solitude by accompanying his younger brother to social events.

Not marriageable for someone like Roy, certainly, with Edward’s dubious background. Hughes might have taken the two Elric brothers in and they might excel in their studies at university while being able to charm half the ton with their looks, but their lineage can barely be traced; orphaned and brought up in a small village by mere merchants, and while the Curtises, as it were, seems perfectly courteous in the letters they send, Edward is hardly born a gentleman.

And yet, here I am.

Roy puts his open palm in front of Edward's face, who flinches back in surprise.

Roy smiles, "Need a hand?"

Edward looks at his hand, looks up, then down again before he scoffs and accepts the assistance, only for Roy to pull him upward and forwards into his arms.

"What the-!"

"Be careful," Roy says, "I wouldn't want to accidentally step on a foot."

"Fuck you," Edward says as he tries to pull away, "I just told you, I don't know how to dance!"

"And how will you ever learn, dear Edward, if you never practice? Have in mind those who wish to dance with you, or you’ll break their hearts." Because Edward was caught by surprise, Roy manages to lead the two of them further in so they're more hidden by the thick branches above, while he simultaneously starts the steps of a Polish Waltz.

Edward stumbles on the steps. Tries to pull himself free while swearing at Roy rather excessively, in Roy's opinion.

"If you aren't quiet," Roy says, "we won't be able to match the music."

That brings Edward to a stop, and Roy can practically hear what music? before Edward catches the same thing Roy did. Either Roy left the balcony door open earlier, or someone's been out since, but the music from the ballroom can be vaguely heard from their place of hiding. The smooth sound of a violin; the whistling of a clarinet.Their [something] waltz is surely not matched by the current dancing inside, but Roy made the very rational decision the lead Edward into a dance where he has a smaller opportunity for escape.

Edward is quieter now as Roy pulls him back and forward. Roy catches himself smiling softly when Edward looks down and makes an actual attempt to match his steps to Roy's.

"Eyes up," he reminds and Edward snatches his head up to scowl at Roy.

"I'm trying, am I not?"

"That you are," Roy says, and then briefly lets go of Edward's waist to tap him on his sinking chin again and Edward quickly raises his head, "But still, don't look down."

Edward grumbles something--probably untoward--but surprisingly obeys and attempts to follow the steps while stubbornly glaring at Roy with a truly spectacular scowl.

There is something warm in the pit of Roy’s stomach, aching gently as they both move in what must be the most rudimentary dance of waltz Roy’s ever performed.

He finds that he doesn’t mind that. Not at all.

"See?" Roy points out after they did a successful turn, and managed to not step into a well-maintained flowerbed. "You're a natural."

Edward huffs out a laugh, more of a grunt than anything, but when he tips his head back to meet Roy’s eyes the light from the estate behind them makes the gold in Edward’s eyes glow even brighter, and Roy is, for a moment, breathless.

#royedweek2024 #royed #edroy #haven't read through it super carefully so might change errors later #first fic i write for this fandom and this ship #and also the first fic that i've finished in years i think?#truly need to get back into writing again #my writing

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the-catmans-offical-2 · 3 months ago

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I wanna ramble about Ed/Wrath (Wrathfull) so much so I'm gonna.

A lotta people I've met have been seeing Wrath as related to the Elric brothers bc of his relationship to Sloth - but I gotta say that I personally don't agree with this.

Yes, Wrath does later state in episode 47 (before killing Lust) that he's going to take everything Edward loves (even though he doesn't want Al, he doesn't want Winry, he doesn't want anything - except Ed's limbs/body and a maternal figure.) Yes, Wrath clings to Sloth, calls her mommy/mama and sees her as his genuine mother.

But you HAVE TO realize it's not reciprocated, and even then - a clear point shown with the homunculi - she's *not* Trisha. She is, but she isn't; She once was, but is no longer her. Just like how Lust is no longer that Ishbalan woman that Scar's older brother once loved, just like how Wrath is no longer that infant Izumi miscarried. The homunculi were ONCE human, ONCE those those people - but they aren't anymore. Anyway, back onto the topic at hand, Sloth doesn't feel any maternal love, she doesn't allow herself to express it nor feel it; A huge part of her character is being apathetic, is changing herself and not allowing herself to chase the frivolous dream of being who she once was - which was a loving mother.

Sure, she let's Wrath hang off her and depend on her - but that's probably to help keep him in check so he'll listen better to Dante and whatnot, because she can easily ACT maternal, but not express it.

So yeah, that's my clarification. Ed and Wrath (And Wrath and Al) aren't related in anyway (even if Wrath did say "she was your mama too", in ep 48 after Sloth was killed and Al was kidnapped).

Also, as an additional clarification - yes, as I've posted before, I do genuinely think that Wrath ages. So in CoS he'd of been 17-18, and in the end of 03 he'd be 14-15. (Ed is 18 in CoS, and 15-16 at the end of 03.)

NOW, with all of that out of the way, here's why I ship this ship; And why I think I may be one of the only people that ship it.

THEIR FUCKING RIVALRY IS AMAZING; This may honestly be one of the only ships I ship that involves them being straight up rivals. They hate each other (or so they think?) - Wrath wants to deprive Ed of his limbs, while Ed just wants his limbs back and deprive Wrath of his (temporarily.)

They're two sides of the same coin, their goals are similar - to regain or gain human body parts in order to complete their individual goals; They both yearn for maternal love, they both are just kids.

But unlike Ed, Wrath is playful and childish - Ed had to grow up fast in order to survive and take care of his brother.

But unlike Wrath, Ed isn't as carefree and trusting to the world.

I dunno, they're just so UGH they make me sick.

Ed clearly is unsure of how he feels about Wrath - at first he's jumping on him and fighting him for answers, being aggressive and trying to kill him, and then he seems to just give up on that; He let's Wrath throw him around, punch him and strangle him. He let's Wrath scream and yell, and cry. He even catches Wrath and gives him a look over after Envy kicks him in the warehouse!! AND on top of that, his reaction to Wrath's death in CoS hits me HARD.

In this scene, I'll maybe get the specific translation later, Ed remarks about how he's surprised that Al got out of the underground city - and Al replies that Wrath showed him the way out, to which Edward questions by saying Wrath's name and Alphonse simply says that he used Wrath to open the Gate on his side. LOOK AT THE DESPAIR HE HAS; And yes, this could be just at the fact Al had to take a life - something Ed never wanted Al to have to do - but I see it as both. ESPECIALLY WHEN ED BRINGS UP WRATH LATER.

Meanwhile, Wrath seemed fearful of Ed at first - likely due to how he'd attack him at first and question him so aggressively - and then calm around him; Before reciprocating Ed's violent behavior. That violent behavior then turning to grief and despair, before Wrath seemed to become an ally for Ed a bit too late - hell, he was fucking SHOCKED when Ed died.

In this scene he only said "he's.. Dead" in the English dub - and he sounded so sad :( Then in CoS, as we all know, he tells Alphonse that he doesn't want to see him sacrifice his life for Ed's again - and very likely doesn't ever want to see the reverse again! I don't think Wrath was solely upset about Sloth during the whole four/three years before CoS took place - especially since he begins to miss Izumi - I think he was absolutely fucked up about Ed. ESPECIALLY SINCE he and Rosé were the last to see Ed alive, they didn't try to stop him, Wrath couldn't bc he was down two limbs and Rosé had to get her baby out of there and Wrath - it must of broken their hearts :(

But yeah! I ship them, and I have never seen any fanart of Ed and Wrath being shipped together, never seen any fanfics - and this really, really surprised me ngl.

If anyone ever does see ship content of them please lmk!! It'd be very much appreciated, I will go insane.

Uhh, that's all I gotta say ngl. If anyone has any questions just ask, my ask box is always open.

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shanastoryteller · 2 years ago

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Happy Valentine's Day, Shana! 💕🎉

Something FMA, please! Either a continuation of Colonel Elric or Sacrifice is Free

a continuation of 1 2 3

Hughes had intended to get several meetings out of the way in the morning before the day got too hectic, but he hears about the commotion Elric's team caused just trying to get into the building and rapidly rearranges his plans.

"Is everything alright with Roy?" Gracia asks as soon as he gets off the phone.

He blinks. "Yes. At least I think so. Why?"

"That's your managing Roy face," she says, smoothing his jacket across his shoulders.

He grimaces. "It's also my managing Edward face. You'll be seeing it a lot more."

She laughs, but he's serious.

As always, he hears them before he sees them.

"How the fuck is this considered well packaged?" Russel shouts, grumpy as usual. "I told you we should have shipped our own equipment."

"You know we had to give them the chance to snoop," Al says at a more reasonable volume. "They would have thrown a fit if we'd insisted on doing it ourselves."

"Well, Russel is throwing a fit now, so I'm not sure what the difference is," Kayal points out.

Maes snorts.

"Russel, put down the protractor," Fletcher begs.

"If I'm not complaining about them putting their grubby hands all over my automail, I don't want to hear anything from the rest of you," Winry snaps.

There's a beat of silence.

"You did complain about them putting their grubby hands all over your automail," Ed says.

"Shut up, Ed." Maes nudges the door open to peek inside. Winry is gesturing a wrench threateningly, which is par for the course. She's signed off on a variety of firearms, but somehow it's the hardware that seems to cause the most injuries. "You and Al took all your notes. You're not suffering like the rest of us."

"Hey, Al and I spent weeks making those decoys! That was a lot of suffering," Ed protests, his jacket tossed aside and his sleeves pushed to his elbows as he works on assembling Kayal's furnace.

Winry's eyes narrow. Sciezka pipes up from where she's buried under aforementioned notes, "Everything would be back in order faster if you all stopped bickering and focused. Also Hughes is here."

Every pair of eyes is suddenly focused on him. It's not the first time he's found himself under their scrutiny, but it's unnerving every time.

"I was wondering when you'd swing by," Ed grins. "I thought we could at least make it to lunch without setting off the rumor mill."

"Ed," he sighs, fond in spite himself. "How long until you're office is back up to standards?"

He looks at everyone else. Al looks up from the chemical compounds he's sorting and says , "Everything will be up in running by the end of the day, and organized by," he glances to Sciezka.

"The end of the week," she says, "assuming I get some more filing cabinets."

"Know where we can get some spare filing cabinets?" Ed grins.

Maes sighs. "Can I borrow your commanding officer for a bit?"

"Take him," Kayal shrugs as Russel says, "You'd be doing us a favor," and Winry adds, "Please."

Ed rolls his eyes. Al smirks and says, "We've got it. I'll find you if something goes wrong."

"If something goes wrong I'll just follow the smoke and screaming," Ed says. Maes wishes he was joking. "All right, all right, I'm gone. Don't have too much fun without me."

Fletcher waves goodbye. No one else does.

"I get no respect," Ed complains as they walk down the hall.

"You wouldn't know what to do with it if you did," Maes points out. People treating Ed appropriately for his rank gives him hives.

"True," he admits easily. "Now tell me all the good gossip. We almost never bothered to come to Central."

#prompt answers #prompts are closed #asks #anon #fma

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justsomeoneintoomanyfandoms · 1 year ago

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Please may I have a Fullmetal alchemist brotherhood hurt/comfort/angst scenario of when a couple of men basically teased you (Maes Hughes eldest daughter age 15 *she is a metal alchemist like Edward but she is of higher rank and she is Edward's girlfriend*) and told you to smile..but how could you? You lost your Dad to murder and they had the nerve to tell you that..you angrily told them that you lost your Dad a few months ago and you were also not smiling because they were inconsiderate as hell. You didn't care about the reactions from the Elric brothers behind you when you swore *the Elric brothers accompanied you to your father's grave so you could pay your respects to the father that you loved dearly*

How would the Elric brothers comfort you afterwards..you were certainly in a fragile state and who wouldn't be..you lost your Dad and how they reacted to what you said to those men.

https://youtu.be/bTDjnrOiSHY?si=3Quy2LcQLgKeHnIL (how the girl reacted to a bunch of men and what she told them was exactly what you told the men)

Hi! Thank you for your request! Sorry it took so long. I hope you like the fanfic!

Fandom: Fullmetal Alchemist: Brotherhood

Characters: Edward Elric x gn! Hughes! Reader

Word Count: 0.4k (485 words)

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

While visiting your father, Maes Hughes’, gravestone, some people start catcalling you. How will you and the Elric brothers who accompanied you for emotional support react to this?

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

It was raining again.

The drops splashed on the stone and ran down the face of the headstone.

Maes Hughes. 1885-1914.

A good man. A dedicated officer. A wonderful friend.

Dad, as you knew him.

You weren’t sure whether it was the remnants of tears or rain that was running down your face. It wasn’t getting easier living without him. Every time you put on your uniform, you couldn’t help but see him in the mirror.

The rain stopped falling on you as an umbrella appeared over you. You felt a hand on your shoulder. Warm. That meant it was Ed.

“We should go. We need to get back to work.”

You nodded, sniffing and wiping your face. “Yeah,” your voice was too soft and you cleared it before trying again, “yeah, let’s go.”

Ed’s hand on your back comforted you as much as it possibly could. You were glad he and Al were there for you.

As you left the cemetery and turned down the street, you heard a commotion from the other side of the road.

“Hey, pretty lady! You wanna ditch the shrimp and the suit of armour and hang out with us?”

Catcallers. Ed’s hand immediately left your back as he whirled around to retort to the comment about his height. You kept walking. You really didn’t want to deal with catcallers right now.

“Come on love! Give us a smile!”

You froze. Even Ed fell silent at that, waiting to see how you would respond.

You turned to face the men before striding across the road towards them. The rain began soaking you, doing nothing to cool the burning anger in your chest. You couldn’t even hear the voice that would normally be telling you to back down from this confrontation.

“I’m not smiling because I’ve just visited my father’s grave!” Your voice grew louder with every word and this time, you could clearly feel the tears rolling down your cheeks, “And I’m not smiling because you’re talking to me!”

The mens’ faces fell faster than the rain around you.

“Sorry for your loss.” The main catcaller’s voice was soft and he looked embarrassed.

The warm hand returned to your back and you turned towards Ed. Your anger was gone, replaced by a bone deep tiredness.

Ed’s eyes were gentle and filled with sympathy. You could see how much he wanted to ease your pain and how much it was tearing him up not being able to do anything.

“C’mon, let’s go.”

You nodded, letting him guide you back to where Al stood with the umbrella.

As you continued down the street, Ed wrapped his arm around you, pulling you closer to his side. “You know, I think he’d be proud of how you handled that.”

You felt a tiny smile touch your lips. You could only hope your dad was watching over you and that you’d make him proud.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Hey, did you enjoy this? If you like my writing, please consider donating to my Ko-Fi page! This will allow me to make some money off my writing, something I enjoy doing.

ko-fi.com/justsomeoneintoomanyfandoms

Important Note: Please only donate if you are financially able to. If you are currently in a position where you can't donate, a like, comment, or reblog will mean just as much.

#writing #fanfic #fanfic request #request #fullmetal alchemist #fullmetal alchemist brotherhood #fullmetal alchemist x reader #fullmetal alchemist brotherhood x reader #edward elric #edward elric x reader

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cricketwrites · 2 years ago

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Dating Edward Elric HCs

Decided to do something fun like this. I felt in the mood for some FMA stuff, there arent enough writers out there

HCs under the cut!

-Either you confess first or you have to be SO patient.

-He’s used to being “strong” and hiding his emotions, so he will absolutely bottle that up until it reaches a boiling point.

-Either this is when you get hurt and he just decides “Screw it” and rambles, face as read as his coat

-Or it would be he gets hurt and the tension between you two reaches a breaking point, and you finally confess.

-Either way, he malfunctions and turns bright red.

-Once you pass the awkwardness of confessing, he is a very good boyfriend.

-He doesn’t get jealous, but he does worry about you when you’re not nearby

-He can’t help but wonder “What if something happened?!”

-He has nightmares from a lot of the things that he has seen and experienced

-Sometimes he wants hugs and other times he just wants to know that he isn’t alone

-He doesn’t really think about PDA, but malfunctions if you grab his hand sometimes

-Eventually, it just becomes second nature to him

-He just does things like kiss your forehead, pat your head or hold your hand out of instinct

-Doesn’t even realize he’s doing it most of the time anymore

-It makes him feel a lot better about knowing you’re there, but also feeling like he’s protecting you <3

Hope you liked it! This wasn’t a request, just something I felt like doing on my own :3

~Cricket

#edward elric x reader #edward elric imagines #fmab imagines #fmab x reader #edward elric fluff

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bubbblesss000 · 5 months ago

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ANTIMONY

Antimony represents the wild and animalistic parts of human nature~

an Edward Elric x reader fanfiction.

~03~

She had barely stepped through the front door when the shrill ring of the phone shattered the peaceful silence. With a furrowed brow, she hurried to answer it, her heart pounding with a mix of curiosity and apprehension. The voice on the other end was unmistakable - her father, Roy Mustang, calling from a payphone. His deep, authoritative tone carried a sense of urgency that sent a shiver down her spine. "Dad, what's wrong?" she asked, her voice laced with concern. There was a brief pause before he spoke, his words laden with a weight she couldn't quite decipher. "You know that guy who has been killing state alchemists?”

“Yeah?”

“He just attacked Fullmetal and his brother”

“What? Where? I'm on my way.”

“You can’t-”

“Why not!?”

“If you’d let me finish, he got away so you can’t leave the house on your own.”

“That's stupid, I’ll be careful.”

“Don’t argue with me, I’ll come get you in a bit.”

“Fine.”

“I mean it, stay home.”

“I will!”

“Love you.”

“Yeah love you too dad.”

With each passing minute, Y/N felt her anxiety intensify. She moved restlessly around the living room, stealing glances out the window every few moments, hoping to catch sight of her dad's car making its way up the driveway. The heavy silence enveloping the house only heightened her unease. At last, the unmistakable roar of her dad's car engine shattered the quiet, flooding her with relief as she dashed outside to greet him. Together, they made their way to the hotel where the boys were staying. When they reached the room, Edward opened the door, looking utterly drained and missing an arm. Edward and Alphonse explained what happened in their fight with Scar. They recounted how Scar had used his alchemy to create destructive blasts, forcing them to dodge and counter with their own transmutation skills. Despite their best efforts, Scar's relentless attacks had pushed them to their limits. Alphonse described how he had shielded Edward from a particularly powerful blast, sacrificing his own armour in the process.Both brothers remained puzzled about Scar's motives for targeting state alchemists. Roy informs the teenagers that the eastern region of Ishval was the epicentre of a civil war that ignited thirteen years prior, triggered by an Amestrian soldier who accidentally shot an Ishvalan child. After seven years of relentless conflict, the State Alchemists were deployed to Ishval with the grim mission of wiping out the Ishvalan population. Mustang remarks,“There may be some justice in Scar's killing spree”.

Edward rebuts, “Scar is merely disguising his own revenge as righteousness, It’s disgusting.”

Ed then explained how he won’t be able to fix up Al’s armour with one arm, so they are going to have to head home to visit their mechanic, Roy insists they take an escort just in case they bump into Scar again.

The following morning Y/N stood beside her father, watching Ed and Al get on the train Major Armstrong escorting them, waving as their train pulled out of the station.

—-----------------------------------------------------

Y/N stood at the threshold of the doorway, her young eyes wide with curiosity as she watched her parents, her mother with a suitcase in hand and her father, Roy Mustang, engaged in a heated argument. The air crackled with tension, the weight of unspoken words hanging heavy in the hallway. Y/N's mother, a woman with a determined gaze and a heart full of secrets, pleaded with Roy, her voice tinged with desperation. Roy, a man of authority and power, stood tall and unwavering, his expression a mask of stoicism that barely concealed the turmoil within.

As the argument escalated, Y/N's heart pounded in her chest, the familiar ache of uncertainty settling in the pit of her stomach. She had always known that her family was different, that there were truths hidden beneath the surface, waiting to be unearthed. And now, as she bore witness to this clash of wills between her parents, she realised that the time for secrets was coming to an end.

In the dimly lit hallway, shadows danced across the walls like spectres from a forgotten past, whispering of untold stories and unfinished business. Y/N's mother, her features etched with determination, turned to face her daughter, her eyes soft yet filled with a silent plea.

With a final, resigned nod, Y/N's mother turned back to Roy, her voice steady as she spoke words that would change their lives forever. And as the echoes of her proclamation faded into the silence of the hallway “I’m leaving.” She walked out the door.

“Daddy?” Y/N spoke a quiver in her voice.

“Yeah?” Roy spoke still facing away from her looking at the door.

“Is Mommy coming back?”

“I don’t know sweetheart.”

A few weeks later, the civil war in Ishval had reached a boiling point. The military, desperate to quell the unrest, began sending State Alchemists to the frontlines. Mustang was in the first wave of soldiers to get their conscription notices. Colonel Roy Mustang found himself torn between duty and love. As the looming threat of war cast a shadow over the nation, Roy's heart ached at the thought of leaving his young daughter, Y/N, behind. The weight of his responsibilities as a State Alchemist and a military officer pressed down on him, threatening to suffocate him in a sea of despair. Y/N, with her innocent eyes and bright smile, was the beacon of light in Roy's darkened world, a reminder of the love and warmth he fought to protect.

As the day of departure drew near, Roy struggled to mask his inner turmoil with a facade of stoicism. Y/N, too young to fully comprehend the gravity of the situation, clung to her father, sensing the unease that lingered in the air. In the quiet moments before dawn, Roy would steal precious minutes with his daughter, memorising every detail of her face, every sound of her laughter, as if trying to imprint them into his very soul. The thought of parting from her, perhaps forever, gnawed at his insides, a relentless ache that no amount of alchemical prowess could heal.

On the morning before he set off to battle, as the world outside descended into chaos, Roy stood before Y/N, his daughter, his heart laid bare. In that fragile moment, amidst the backdrop of impending tragedy, Roy whispered promises of return, of a future where they could be together once more. Y/N, too young to understand the complexities of war, clung to her father, her small hand reaching out to touch his face, as if trying to anchor him to the present. She only understood that her father was leaving her just as her mother did a few weeks prior. And as Roy turned away, steeling himself for the horrors that awaited him on the battlefield, a single tear glistened in his eye. He stood next to his friend Maes Hughes, thankful that his girlfriend Gracia agreed to look after Y/N while he is away.

Y/N found herself trapped in a cruel reality.For a year, she could only communicate with him through the crackling static of a telephone line, his voice a distant echo of the man she once knew. As the days turned into months, Y/N's memories of her father began to blur, his face fading like a ghost in her mind. The weight of loneliness pressed down on her, even though she had Gracia by her side, Y/N couldn’t be more alone. Each passing day, she clung to the sound of Roy's voice, the only tether to a world where he still existed. But as the days turned into nights and the nights into weeks, the realisation dawned upon her - she was slowly forgetting the face of the man who had raised her.

In the dimly lit train station, young Y/N stood anxiously beside Gracia, her heart pounding with anticipation. The war had finally ended, and her father, Roy Mustang, and her uncle, Maes Hughes, were due to arrive any moment now. The air was heavy with relief. Y/N clutched Gracia’s hand.

As the train screeched to a halt, a wave of emotions washed over Y/N. She scanned the crowd, her eyes searching desperately for the familiar faces of her loved ones. And then, there they were - her father, his once vibrant eyes now dulled by the horrors of war, and her uncle, his jovial demeanour replaced by a sombre gravity. Y/N rushed forward, her voice catching in her throat as she embraced them tightly. The weight of their absence lifted momentarily, replaced by a bittersweet reunion tainted by the scars of battle.

In the days that followed, Y/n watched helplessly as her father and uncle struggled to adjust to life after the war. The nightmares haunted them, their laughter hollow and forced. She tried to hold onto the memories of happier times, of their shared moments of joy, but the shadows of the past loomed large. As the days turned into weeks, Y/N realised that the war had taken more from them than she could even grasp at such a young age.

—-----------------------------------------------------

Y/N sat at her desk in her cosy bedroom, surrounded by stacks of books. The soft glow of a lamp illuminated the pages of the book she was currently engrossed in. Lost in thought, Y/N traced her fingers over the diagrams and symbols in the book, each one holding a deeper meaning than what meets the eye. The room was filled with a sense of quiet contemplation, broken only by the occasional rustle of pages as she turned them. Outside, the moon cast a silvery light through the window, adding to the ethereal atmosphere that enveloped her.

Y/N sighed and set her book down, the phone's insistent ringing echoing through the quiet house. She made her way downstairs, the wooden steps creaking beneath her feet. As she reached the bottom, she picked up the receiver, "Hello?" she answered, her voice uncertain. On the other end of the line, a familiar voice spoke, "Y/N, it's me." the voice said softly. It was Edward. Y/N listened intently as Edward recounted his encounter with Marcoh, the renowned alchemist who had once been a State Alchemist, he described the wisdom and knowledge that Marcoh possessed. And he told her about getting his new arm,fixing up Al and about Major Armstrong's antics. Before they knew it, an hour had passed. “We should check out that library when you guys get back.” Y/N spoke softly as it was late and her father was asleep just a few rooms away.

“Yeah I think we are getting the first train back into central tomorrow,” Ed replied.

“You should probably get some sleep then it's nearly midnight” chuckled looking up at the clock above the phone.

“Eh, I might do.”

“Even if you're not, I am, I’ll see you tomorrow?” She questioned.

“Yeah we’ll see you tomorrow. Goodnight Y/N.”

“Yeah goodnight Edward.” She held the receiver until she heard the click from the other side.

#alphonse elric #edward elric #edward elric x reader #fanfic #fullmetal alchemist #fullmetal alchimist brotherhood #riza hawkeye #roy mustang #royai #team mustang

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