#but like. when have the elrics ever been allowed nice things.

[limetameta]

You know me lads I love a good au:

This time on the table we got ourselves a serving of What if Kimblee got discharged from the military after Ishval instead of going to prison. So you have this really mentally unstable individual who is clearly going through a lot (though most notably for him is the ph stone being taken from him) told he is unfit to serve in the military anymore. And that he will be discharged on grounds of shell shock. Kimblee understands this is their way of getting rid of him, a nightmare to deal with.

He goes home. Well to the hospital first and then to some hearings and then the whole court martial situation and then he doesn't even get to go home but they shove him into a mental institution until he calms down. Because Kimblee? A bit angry. Let's not get into how or why he didn't blow people up let's just focus on the au because this isn't even the good part.

Man finally goes home after this ordeal. Has to reconnect with his family. Mama Kimblee my beloved is so happy to have her boy back from Ishval. If anything she's quite happy that her Solf’s not in the military anymore. If only he'd stop with the alchemy business too and focus on being a doctor or a banker or even a textile worker. Something real and safe and financially tangible.

Kimblee is not a military officer. He gets those veteran discounts and a veteran's pension and that's about it. So he focuses on research.

-When are you going to find someone to settle down with? Martina's boy is already married and he's younger than you!-

So he focuses on research.

-Not to mention that I'm worried about your health. You aren't eating enough. And I don't think I've seen you sleep once through the entire night since you've been back!-

He focuses on research.

-I mean, really, Solf, maybe you should talk to someone about this. Aren't you in contact with any of your war buddies? You never have anyone over. You can't be that disliked. I taught you how to be charming.-

Somehow he manages to focus enough on his research for long enough for his name to become synonymous with alchemy. Has written a plethora of articles and even helped write some books on alchemy. His theories are definitely something else and this gives him a certain level of infamy that the war didn't. Feel like the man gets a PhD. Just so he can write Prof.dr Kimblee. It's definitely filled some void in his chest. His mother's certainly proud her son's a doctor of SOME kind. Still not like Martina's boy who's an actual surgeon, but oh well.

At least he gets out of the house.

Kimblee remains in contact with two people from the military. Very one sided. Kimblee didn't even know these people liked him well enough to write him. But the whole hospital then discharge then PhD thing must be interesting enough to warrant them to write.

There's a whole little box dedicated to the photos Maes Hughes sends him. Kimblee is a bit frightened to think about what kind of box someone like Roy Mustang must need in order to encompass all of the memorabilia Maes Hughes sends him.

Maes is kind of like a normal friend Kimblee can tell his mother about. Because other than the neighbourhood gossip and the music scene in their hometown, he is painfully aware he is running out of topics to talk about w her.

The other person is. Well. Not a person, more of an angel of death if Kimblee can say so. Riza Hawkeye sends one or two letters per year. But she sends them. Kimblee thinks that's nice of her. He sends her cards on the major holidays. Has invited her out to come and go hunting with him in these parts. Has always had the offer declined. Does not mind.

Kimblee is a painfully smart man and he has a lot of stipulations put into place how he needs to use his alchemy and in which circumstances he is allowed to use his very destructive alchemy. It's...exhausting. though it is better than having a tattoo artist completely tattoo over his palms and effectively render him incapable of ever using it.

In comes Edward Elric. He has gone through so many books to no avail. He is at his wit's fucking end about finding any information about how he and his brother can find their bodies back. He has no idea who else he can harass.

Roy Mustang is just about to suggest Shou Tucker, the Life Thread Alchemist - when Riza just says, offhandedly: "I mean, there's always Kimblee."

Roy? Instantly grimaces. Horrified. What even is life?

This reaction? Just enough for Edward to go head first into his manhunt on the Kimblee guy. "I read some of his stuff and he seems really intense. How do you know him? I thought he wasn't a State Alchemist?"

"He was." Roy just leaves it at that. Smart man, this Roy. Not one to waste words.

Anyhow they track Kimblee down. Which isn't difficult. He's in the phone book. Riza has his address.

But it gets a bit funny when he reaches the destination. Edward just keeps pointing at people and going: ''Oi, are you Solf J. Kimblee?'' ''Oi are YOU doctor Solf J. Kimblee?'' ''OI, WHAT ABOUT YOU, ARE YOU SOLF J. KIMBLEE, DR PHD ALCHEMY GUY?'' (billy nye the science guy theme plays)

''He's gone fishing,'' one person says. Finally they point him in the direction of this guy who's on a little row boat out into a lake. He has a hat on and he's chilling. Edward, naturally, keeps shouting at him for attention from the lake shore. He's screaming atop his lungs. ''OI??? OI!!!! YOU DR KIMBLEE OR NOT??? OIIIIII, WE GOT SOME QUESTIONS, WE'RE ALCHEMISTS!''

Alphonse is like: ''Maybe it's not him. Maybe it's just some guy fishing.''

''How can he fish?'' Edward's pointing at the boat and the man in the boat. ''He doesn't have a fishing rod.''

Alphonse hums. It is pretty suspicious.

Edward won't stand for it, thanks. He and Alphonse are getting in another boat because they don't have any time to spare. The faster they get information the faster they can get out of here and maybe finally find a lead towards their goal. Besides, the ph stone continues to be an enigma nobody knows anything about! This guy could very well be a dud, but they'd at least like to figure it out quickly.

So, their boats are neck and neck. Alphonse introduces them as the Elric brothers.

''You're that twelve year old that became a State Alchemist?'' The man says. He doesn't seem surprised, only mildly curious.

''I'm fifteen now, thanks!'' Then. ''Are you that Doctor Kimblee guy or not?''

''If you're asking if I'm Martina Kimblee's son, Adam Kimblee the successful surgeon, I will have to disappoint you.''

Edward is fuming by the end of Kimblee's roundabout answers that he tells him he's come here for one purpose and one purpose only and that's to hear what Kimblee knows about alchemy and ph stones and that he won't be leaving until he gets what he wants.

''Sure,'' Kimblee says, ''I can tell you about my research. On the condition you kill more fish than I do.''

The boat Alphonse and Edward took to get to Kimblee has two fishing rods in it. And some bait. Though, Kimblee's doesn't.

Edward and Alphonse have accepted this bet

Kimblee's humming a classical piece. Maybe the Carmina Burana. He's grinning. He's having a fun time just chilling in his boat looking at these two very determined teenagers trying to out-fish him.

Edward is telling him that he's gonna lose so fucking hard. He hasn't caught one fish yet.

Kimblee points to all of their wriggling fishes. ''And those are still alive.''

Edward huffs and says they'll die eventually. There's no way Kimblee can beat them. They've caught like 5 fish so far. And Kimblee? A big ol zero! Nye-he!

Five fish turns into ten. They're celebrating on their boat already. The poor souls. Kimblee doesn't prepare them for what's coming. He leans over his boat and claps, sparks sizzling from his alchemical activation, and he very gently submerges his palms into the lake water. There's a big boom. Suddenly definitely-more-than-ten fish swim up to the surface, dead and dazed.

Kimblee smiles at them and waves with his moon array palm. ''I win.''

''You didn't CATCH any of them, though!''

Kimblee scoffs. ''I said kill, not catch.''

''He did say that, brother...''

''Motherfucker.'' Edward throws a fish at Kimblee.

''So rude!'' Kimblee says, barely dodging the fish.

[aquietwritingcorner]

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

__________________________________________________

Quarantine

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

But it wasn’t enough.

He wanted to be out there.

He wanted to be in the world.

He wanted to feel it.

He sighed.

“Something wrong, Alphonse?”

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

“I’m fine, Lieutenant,” he said.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Her smile softened. “No, not at all.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

She smiled. “That would be nice.”

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

[gareleia]

Of lullabies and lost puppies

Fandom: Fullmetal Alchemist: Brotherhood

Word count: 2585

Relationships: Alphonse Elric & Edward Elric

Tags: Post-Promised Day, Hospitals, Fluff, Childhood Memories, Light Angst, Hopeful Ending.

Summary: Following the events of the Promised Day, Alphonse is stuck in a hospital. To cheer him up, Edward starts telling stories.

Read on AO3

"Hey, Al?" Ed whispers, in case he's dozed off again.

It's not that big of a stretch, considering that Alphonse doesn't usually stay awake for more than an hour at a time, and even then he's all quiet and groggy and tired and not all there. The doctors say it's not too concerning, that his body just needs to build up strength again and in a few months he'll be right as rain.

Ed still worries though. How can he not, when his brother lies there, all brittle bones and paper-thin skin? Every time he looks at Alphonse he has to fight the instinct to wrap him up in a bone-crushing hug and never let go. The only thing that's currently stopping him is the knowledge that with how fragile the boy is at the moment, he just might literally crush a bone or something.

And so, Ed refrains. Holds the skeletal hand with gentleness he never knew he possessed, places feather-light kisses on the hollow cheeks, whispers comforts and assurances when they're needed - and that is all too often, because in his years in the armor Al forgot how to deal with nightmares. For now, it has to be enough.

And it is. Honestly, Ed would be content simply watching from afar, basking in the glow of the wonder that is his brother, alive and breathing. The fact that he's allowed to be here, despite all his faults and sh-shortcomings, is a miracle. He's so fucking happy he could cry - has cried, multiple times, when he knew nobody was watching. He gets delightfully lightheaded every time he thinks of how it's all finally over.

They won.

"Brother?"

Al is looking at him with half-closed, clouded eyes and he does this adorable little yawn and truth this is all he's ever wanted and more.

"Still here" As if he's ever leaving his side again "How was your nap?"

Alphonse yawns again and stretches as much as his atrophied muscles let him. Ed wishes he had a camera.

"Wasn't sleeping. Just thinking. I'm bored."

"Sure you weren't" A grin. "We could read, if you want. They don't have any books here, which is weird, but I managed to negotiate a bunch of old magazines from the nurses. It's not much and they're mostly pictures, but we could make fun of old-people fashion. Maybe find something for Mustang's retirement party, he's so ancient that it could be any day now."

"Brother, be nice!" Al giggles, and he counts it as a win."

The day I'm nice to that bastard is the day I've finally lost my mind. If that ever happens, I fully expect you to spare us both the embarrassment and put me out of my misery."

"Ed!" His brother scolds and ouch.

"Sorry, Al. Too soon?"

"It'll always be too soon. Stop talking nonsense and tell me another story."

"Well, if you insist..."

They've been at it for days now. With Al too weak to do anything besides talking and sleeping, and Ed too paranoid to leave him alone for more than five minutes at a time, they didn't have much else to do to pass the time. Ed could get real books if he wanted - plenty of people who visited them brought gifts and care packages. But... It's selfish, he knows, but for now he wants to keep Alphonse to himself. In this little hospital room with just the two of them where everything is alright in the world and nothing else matters - not fights, not politics and not even alchemy.

"Actually... Do you remember the time we almost got a dog?"

"What?" Al chokes a little. "No! When did that happen?"

"Figures" Ed chuckles. "You were really young. Like, barely two? It's kinda fuzzy on the timeline, but B-Hohenheim was still there."

(He's so not unpacking that now)

"You were a really fussy baby, you know. It was like you had it all figured out already, what you wanted to eat, wear and do, and god forbid we got it wrong or happened to be in the way of your 'Big Plans' or something. You'd go all red and start screaming your head off until we managed to decipher which little thing offended your gentle sensibilities this time."

"Are you sure you remember right?" Al interrupts, cheeks flushed, "I think you're confusing us. I'm the quiet one."

"Yeah, right" Ed snorts. "You weren't very quiet back then. Babies are loud in general, but you took it to the whole new level. I'm pretty sure I learned how to walk just to get away from your wailing. All the neighbors knew when you were upset, and I'm sure the entire Resembool still remembers the Nappy Incident of 1901. Why do you think they're so nice to you all the time? Nobody wants a repeat of that."

He shudders. His poor baby eardrums. It's a good thing that Al mellowed out with age, because the world wasn't ready for two Elrics' bullshit, and Ed himself has no intention of cutting down on his own.

"Ed, the story!" His brother whines.

"Right. So. Where was I? Oh, yeah. You were a fussy baby. So one sunny day you decided that you weren't taking your naps unless either me or mom sang to you - you didn't want Hohenheim there at all, which made him depressed and pathetic until mom figured out you just didn't like his new cologne. And you wouldn't take just any song, it had to be a new one every time, or else you would start shrieking."

"Really?" Al mutters to himself, but Ed answers nonetheless.

"Uh huh. Spoiled brat." He smiles fondly and pats his head.

"So, a couple of weeks later we're running out of songs. You're in an especially bad mood that evening and it's taking me and mom a while to get you to sleep. Eventually, she has to run to the kitchen to check on the dinner and just leaves me there with my bloody siren of a brother, and I'm getting desperate. And then I remember a song I heard from the older kids, which I know you haven't heard before because it's sad as fuck. And, well, you're already upset, what do I have to lose?"

Ed sighs and runs his hand through his hair. As fondly as he remembers that day, looking back at it, he can admit it wasn't his brightest moment.

"What was the song about?" Al asks curiously. "Do you still remember it? And where does the dog come in?"

"I'm getting to it, Al." He insists. "And I don't remember the words, I was, like, three or so. But the gist of it was that a kid has lost his puppy and was looking for it. He didn't find the dog in the end, so. As I said, sad as fuck. You made it halfway through the second verse before bursting into tears. Seriously, I've never seen you cry so hard before. Of course I immediately shut up and so did you, so you'd think that all was good, right? Just forget about it and move on."

"Did I... Did I hold a grudge?" Alphonse's eyes are wide and it's the most lucid he's been in days. "Did I hold grudges as a baby?"

"You sure did," hums Ed. "But it's not what happened.  As soon as I shut up, you started shaking your tiny fists and demanding I do it again."

"Why?!"

"I don't know!" He throws his hands in the air. "I didn't understand that either! I thought, maybe it was a fluke, and you cried because of something else, but as soon as I started singing you were tearing up again! So I stopped and you got angry and I said: "But you cry when I sing it!" And you insisted you weren't going to cry again if I sang, so I did and of course that was a fucking lie. So that's when I put my foot down and said I wasn't going to do it again even if you screamed. And, as always, you took that as a challenge."

"Why don't I remember this?" Al sighs faintly. "You weren't much older than me, so how do you remember it?"

"Well, duh, I was traumatized."

Al swats lazily at another headpat and Ed effortlessly catches his brother's hand between his own two palms. As he starts rubbing it carefully, Alphonse makes a pleased noise and settles down.

"So, mom rushes in with you screaming your little head off and she can't make you stop either. So she turns to me and asks what happened here in the two minutes she was gone and I do my best to explain, and she just. Loses it."

"Did she get mad?"

Edward grins.

"That's what I thought. But no, she just burst out laughing so hard she was crying. There were tears rolling down her cheeks and everything. I figured I was in trouble and began tearing up. And then you stopped yelling and started crying too. I'm sure it was a sight, all three of us like that. Dad sure thought so."

Alphonse's little squeak startles Ed out of the memory and wipes the stupidly wide smile off his face.

"What? Shit, are you okay? Did I hurt you?!"

He quickly puts Al's hand down and makes a move to get up and call a nurse, but freezes as he feels his brother's grip on his wrist. It's an objectively pathetic  thing, barely tight enough to be noticeable, but it stops him in his tracks better than steel ever could.

For a second, he doesn't breathe. He knows it's irrational, but it's his brother, the most precious and important thing in the universe, and what if he hurt him-

Then,

"Ed", Alphonse says softly, almost whispers, and he sounds so heartbreakingly sad it hurts to hear. "I wish you stopped doing this to yourself. I'm okay. It's not your fault, you didn't hurt me. Please sit down."

Edward bites his lip and does as he's told.

"I'm not hurt, I was just surprised."

The interaction seems to have worn his brother out, but he still puts on a tired smile.

"Surprised by what?"

"It's nothing. Please continue."

"Fine, well, if you're sure. Just... Fine. Where were we?"

"'Dad.'"

"Oh, right. Also, I can't believe you still call him that, but you do you, I guess."

Ed crunches his nose at the thought of talking about their douchebag of a father, and Al's smile becomes even more tired and somewhat pained.

"Sorry, I'll shut up now. Anyway, Hohenheim walks in to check out the noise and finds all three of us in tears. The poor bastard looked so scared and confused. He just kind of stood there for a moment, trying to decide what to do, and then you got even louder, probably because of the cologne. And he started backing off, you know, like a coward, but then mom, who was still laughing, started making gestures at him to explain and then you threw a toy at himand holy fuck, it was glorious. His face was priceless. Eventually he just started frantically asking what he should do, what did we want from him. And you... you... oh, fuck, you just looked at him and went: "DOGGIE!"

Ed takes a second to steady his voice.

"And his face went all intense and stoic, like you just asked him to bring you the heart of a fallen star to grant you eternal youth. I swear, Al, in that moment he was a man on a mission. So he was like, "I see" and then he went out to take a breather. Mom calmed down shortly after and I don't remember how, but we finally put you to sleep. It was way past our bedtime and I was really tired myself, so I wasn't paying that much attention to what she did. And then he waltzed in with a proud smile and an actual dog under his coat."

Alphonse lets out a surprised laugh and Ed drinks the sound in, catalogs it neatly and puts it into the specific corner of his brain marked 'Reasons to live'. That box seems to be getting fuller by the day.

"I know, right? Mom was horrified. It was the middle of the night, and no one in the village has had a dog who recently gave birth, but there he was, holding a puppy and refusing to tell her where it came from. I don't remember how he managed to convince her to keep it, but in the end it didn't matter, because the next morning you woke up, saw the pup and freaked the hell out. I don't know if it was the song, or you slept funny, or you just felt like being a little shit, but you refused to tolerate her. And as much as I liked the dog, I loved you more, so it wasn't even a choice. Eventually even dad gave in and said it was best to get rid of the pup, so we gave it to our neighbors."

Al stares at him silently for a moment and he has that look on his face that Ed, to his shame, can't quite discern. Is it pity?

Still, he can pinpoint the exact moment the realization sets in.

"Wait, our father got us Den?!"

"Yup", Ed grins. "But I named her Carbon at first. Or, well, 'Ca'bon', 'cause I had trouble with the 'r'. Bonnie for short. Uncle Yuri insisted on the name change, which was dumb."

"You're dumb!" His brother sputters. "You can't name a pet after an element! Pet names are supposed to be cute! Like Fluffy or Snowflake or Sugarplum!"

Edward gives him a look full of fake pity, but he honestly couldn't care less about the god-awful names Al cooked up for his future cats.

"Nuh-uh. Pet names are supposed to be whatever gets the animals to respond and I'm telling you that Den still responds to Carbon. You can try it yourself when we go back to Resembool, and you'll see that I'm right. And when you do finally recognize my genius, you will beg me to name your cats for you. Just you wait!"

"I'm looking forward to it." Alphonse murmurs and curles up next to his arm, eyes already closing. "You'll complain about the fur."

"And the noise." He nods, smiling.

"'nd the smell."

"And it's going to be awesome."

And it is. Because they're together, and safe, and not dying, and they're going to stay that way. They're going to live long and happy lives, see the world, get married, have kids. Eat every last dish on Al's To-Try list. Rebuild their house. Die of old age.

It's an unfamiliar thought, but not an unwelcome one. Edward is a pessimist by nature, and he's not used to thinking about his own future as anything but a source of new pain, but. He could try.

For Mom.

For Alphonse.

For Winry.

For himself.

"We're going to be okay." He whispers, just to try it out, and he's in equal measure scared and excited to find that for once in his life he truly does mean it.

"We're going to be okay." He says, again - and then adds, just because he can, "Love you Al. Sleep well."

"Love you too, brother."

And if his eyes are wet, well. It's nobody else's business.

[razieltwelve]

Meeting (Final Rose x GOT)

Ned Stark looked his friend up and down. Robert was the very picture of a mighty king, his  presence filling the courtyard. There was no trace of weariness or weakness about him. His blue eyes were bright, and his powerful frame still rippled with muscle. For a long moment, neither of them said a word, but Robert’s lips twitched ever so slightly.

Robert smirked. “You’ve gotten old, Ned.”

Ned smirked back. “And you’ve gotten fat.”

A shocked silence swept over the courtyard, and then Robert gave that deep, booming laugh of his and lifted Ned clear off his feet in a hug so strong that the Lord of the North feared that his ribs might break.

“Gods, it’s good to see you again.” Robert chuckled and squeezed just enough to make Ned’s ribs creak before setting him back on his feet. “Where have you been all these years?”

Ned made a show of rubbing his ribs. He’d almost forgotten just how strong Robert was. “Keeping the North for you, Your Grace.”

“Hah! And keeping it well if all I’ve heard is true.” Robert threw one arm over Ned’s shoulders and leaned over to whisper in his ear. “We’ve much to talk about, you and I. Your last letter was... interesting.” Then he raised his voice and gestured grandly at the crowd. “A man - and a king - is only as good as his friends. A true and loyal friend is worth more than his weight in gold. I’d not have this crown on my head were it not for the loyalty and friendship of Lord Stark here and all of the North.” There were cries of approval from the crowd, and Robert beamed. “Too few kings have paid heed to the North, but you need never fear that from me and mine. As my wife’s House is so fond of saying: a Lannister always pays his debts... and so does a Baratheon. While my line sits on the throne, the North will always have a friend in the South.”

Ned grinned. It was nice to see that the years had not changed his friend for the worst. He had worried, for a time, that Robert might never overcome his grief at the loss of Lyanna. Yet from the letters they had exchanged, he knew that the birth of Robert’s children had restored his sense of purpose and allowed him to move on. “You have my thanks, Robert. You and yours will always be welcome in the North.”

“And speaking of you and yours, Ned.” Robert nodded at Ned’s children who were standing dutifully nearby. “Introduce me.”

Ned finally managed to pull out of Robert’s grasp. “I should start with my wife first. You remember Catelyn, I’m sure.”

Robert grinned. “As beautiful as I remember.” He nudged Ned and glanced over his shoulder at Cersei. “We’re lucky men, Ned. Both of us lords and with pretty ladies to boot.”

Ned and the queen both shook their heads in fond exasperation. Catelyn, of course, adopted a more polite approach. “You honour me with your words, Your Grace.”

“None of that,” Robert said. “And you too, Ned. I’ve too many people already toadying up to me and calling me Your Grace. I don’t need it from either of you. I’ve no better or more loyal a friend than you. Call me Robert, both of you.” He embraced Catelyn. “Thank you for keeping an eye on Ned here. He likes to think he’s the sensible one out of us, but I remember growing up beside him at the Aerie...”

“And moving on,” Ned said quickly. Both he and Robert had ample stories of childhood misdeeds, but his friend had seized the initiative as he was wont to do. “My eldest, Robb.”

“Ah, my namesake.” Robert studied Robb. “You’ve the look of your mother, lad, but there’s steel in those eyes of yours.” He glanced at Ned. “Blooded, is he?”

“Aye,” Ned admitted. “Helped saved his younger brother from Wildings.”

“Good lad.” Robert squeezed Robb’s shoulder. “A man should protect his family.” He shifted his attention to Ned. “I’ve heard mutterings of the Wildlings stirring. We can talk about it later, but if you need help, you’ll get it.” He glanced past Robb to Sansa. “And who is this lovely young lady?”

“Sansa, Your Grace.” Sansa gave the king a perfect curtsy, and Robert beamed.

“A perfect lady, just like her mother.” Robert looked to the two younger boys beside her. “And unless my memory fails me, then, from your letters, Ned, these must be Bran and Rickon.”

“Aye.” Ned said. “Bran’s got a clever head on his shoulders and Rickon...” He chuckled. “And Rickon is still young.”

“You’re really big,” Rickon said, staring at Robert.

Robert threw his head back and laughed. “That I am, lad. I doubt you’ll ever be my size, but there’s plenty of growing in you, I think.” He paused. “Ned... didn’t you have two more, or am I remembering your letters wrong?”

“Uh...” Ned breathed a sigh of relief as Lyara finally returned, all but dragging Arya. His youngest daughter had, of course, decided that the best time to take a tumble in a muddy puddle was right before meeting the king.

Robert stared at the pair for a long, long moment. Ned could understand his shock. Lyara resembled his sister in many ways although, objectively speaking, Ned could admit that she was fairer, having inherited much of Catelyn’s classical beauty to go with the wild charm his sister had possessed. Then he shook himself, and his shoulders began to heave as he took in the sight of Arya covered in mud.

“Hahahaha...” Robert had to reach up to wipe tears from his eyes. “Oh, Ned, this reminds me of... before.”

Ned mentally breathed a sigh of relief. Another king might have been insulted, but Robert wasn’t like other kings. “Aye. Arya has a knack for trouble.” He put a mock scowl on his face, and he had to fight to hide his smile as Arya quailed. Robert noticed what he was doing and only laughed harder. “Greet the king, Arya.”

“I... uh... welcome to Winterfell, Your Grace.” Arya did her best to sketch a curtsy and failed miserably. Catelyn covered her face with one hand. 

“So...” Robert finally got his mirth under control. “Tell me, girl, what do you favour, the sword, the axe, or the spear?”

Arya stared at him in shock, as if she couldn’t quite believe what she’d heard. And then she smiled, the brilliant, wonderfully warm smile that Ned could honestly say would be breaking hearts in several years. “The sword, Your Grace! There is no better weapon than a sword!”

“Oh? I favour the war hammer myself.” Robert smiled indulgently. “Perhaps you could show me your skills while I’m here, or perhaps test them against one of my sons.”

“Really?” Arya’s eyes shone. “I’d love to!” She paused and then quickly added. “Your Grace.”

Robert hesitated for a moment and then reached out to ruffle her hair. “She reminds me of Lyanna, Ned.” There was a trace of grief in the words, but Ned was relieved to hear it accompanied by fondness too. Robert would likely always mourn Lyanna, but he had also moved on. Robert’s gaze shifted to Lyara. “And you must be Lyara.”

“Aye, Your Grace.” Lyara met his gaze, and Ned was only mildly surprised to see that there was none of the awe in it that people usually had when they met Robert. Instead, there was only measured calm. It was as though she’d taken Robert’s measure and had been satisfied by what she saw. “It is an honour to meet the man my father calls his dearest friend.”

Robert’s lips twitched. “A wolf indeed, Ned.” Ned had mentioned in more than one of his letters that he’d always thought the wolf’s blood was thickest in Lyara. “They call you the Rose of the North. Mind explaining the title?”

Lyara’s eyes gleamed. “A rose is known for it’s beauty... and its thorns, Your Grace.”

“She’s the finest swordsman in the North!” Arya cried before Catelyn frantically moved to shush her.

“Is that so?” Robert rubbed his chin thoughtfully. “My eldest is supposed to be a prodigy for his age, as skilled a warrior as any youth. Perhaps you’d care to test his mettle.”

“Perhaps.” 

Robert tossed Ned an amused glance. They were likely both thinking the same thing. A match between their House would be perfect. “Well, now that I’ve met your lot, allow me to introduce my lot.”

X     X     X

Edward, who had once been Diana, bit back a chuckle as another one of the Lannister guards did his best to impress Lyara Stark only to end up disarmed and face down in the mud. 

“Gods,” Tyrion muttered. “That’s the fifth one already. I know Elric. He’s no Arthur Dayne, but he’s no slouch either. All that talk of her being the finest sword in the North might actually be true.”

“Well, the North has never been much given to exaggeration.” And if his suspicions were true, there was a reason none of the young men eager to impress her had gotten anywhere. It was a pity that he hadn’t managed to corner her for a private conversation, but the royal family had been pulled into a whirlwind of activity after arriving at Winterfell. “If they say she’s damn good, then she’s damn good.”

“Are you going to try your luck, nephew?” Tyrion asked. “Although you must surely be aware of what your father is thinking.”

Edward was indeed aware. If his suspicions were correct - and the more he watched Lyara fight, the more certain he grew - then this could get extremely awkward. “Even so, I’d like to test my blade against hers.”

“And it seems you may just have your chance.” Tyrion chuckled. “Best of luck.”

As Edward accepted the wooden practice sword and stepped into the arena, a pair of Lannister guards dragged the unfortunate Elric over to a nearby bench to recover. 

“Don’t take her lightly,” Ser Barristan murmured as Edward passed him. “She’s good, Your Highness, amongst the best I’ve ever seen.”

“It’s a good thing, then, that I’m also amongst the best you’ve ever seen.” Edward’s lips curled up into a smile. “Wish me luck.”

Ser Barristan grinned. “Good luck.”

“Your Highness.” Lyara greeted him with a nod. Edward’s father had always insisted on no special treatment for him in the training yard. He was to be a proper warrior, not a coddled prince. 

“My lady.” Edward took up his stance, vaguely aware that they had already begun to draw an audience. He was widely considered one of the finest swordsmen in the realm despite his tender age, and already the only ones who could challenge him with a blade were his uncle and Ser Barristan. “Shall we?”

“Any rules?” Lyara asked.

“Well, obviously, we won’t be fighting to the death,” Edward said as he began to circle, drawing laughter from the crowd. His sword whipped out, lightning fast, only to be parried just as quickly before a riposte forced him to lean to the side. He found his smile widening. He knew that riposte. It was one of the very first moves he’d learned from his mother in his previous life. “And fighting until first blood might be problematic since we’re using wooden weapons. I daresay, we’d have to club each other halfway into the grave.”

“That would be unfortunate, yes.” Lyara skipped forward, as swift and easy on her feet as a bird in flight. Her blade went high and then low before a feint to his mid-section was followed by a thrust to his exposed shoulder. Edward blocked the first two blows and then dodged the third. He was definitely grinning like an idiot now. He knew that sequence. It was a training sequence the Yun had often used to teach the importance of seeing through feints. From the faint smile on Lyara’s face, he could tell she’d noticed the ease with which he’d dealt with her attacks - as though he’d known what they would be.

Well, it was time to give her something to think about. “A point match then,” he said. “With blows pulled before contact. I think we both have the control for that.”

“Aye.”

“Then... have at thee.” Abandoning his lackadaisical stance, Edward closed the distance between them. His sword rose and fell with all the force of a sledgehammer, swift, sharp, punishing blows that were nevertheless perfectly controlled and without overextension. It was a training sequence from a Yun sword form melded with the techniques of his previous’s life’s mother. If Lyara was who he thought she was, she would recognise it in a heartbeat.

The light of recognition in her eyes made Edward’s heart soar. He’d feared he might be alone in this new world with none of his friends or family from his previous life. Yet the ease with which she parried the blows, the way she evaded the strikes she knew would be coming, it was practically confirmation. Still, he couldn’t resist pushing harder.

Diana had spent her entire life testing herself against Averia. Edward wanted to see how good Lyara really was.

X     X     X

“Gods,” Robert muttered as he watched Edward and Lyara fight their way around the training area. “The lad’s been holding back on us.”

Beside him, Ser Barristan was watching everything with a critical eye. Despite his calm demeanour, Robert could tell that the old knight was excited. Ever since the death of Arthur Dayne, Barristan had been acknowledged as the greatest swordsman in Westeros. Even Jaime could admit that while he was close to the older man’s equal, Barristan still held an edge. Yet the way Edward was fighting now, Robert could sense the same thing Barristan could.

He might finally have met his match, or possibly even his superior.

And the fact that Lyara was matching him blow for blow...

“She’s a wonder, Ned,” Robert said. “You’re a good swordsman, yourself, but this...”

Ned nodded sombrely. “I don’t know where she gets it, Robert. There’s no swordsman in the North her equal. It’s as if the gods themselves gave her a gift.” 

“Aye.” Robert found himself smirking. “But look at the pair of them. They’re doing their best to beat each other’s heads in, but they’re having the time of their lives.”

It was true. Despite the intensity of their spar, both Edward and Lyara were smiling although the girl’s expression was more reserved. They were talking as they fought although the clatter of their wooden swords made it impossible for Robert to tell what they were saying. Still, he couldn’t help but smile. He’d hoped that Edward and Lyara might get along, but this? This was beyond his wildest expectations.

“They’re bloody flirting,” Robert said, chuckling. 

Ned stared for a long moment before shaking his head. “By the gods, Robert, I think you might be right.”

Suddenly, Edward and Lyara broke apart. They were both sweating, but neither of them looked as though they wanted to stop. 

“Spear,” Edward barked curtly. “Someone get us a pair of spears.”

A blunted spear was soon tossed to the prince, and Robert felt pride swell in his chest as his boy handled the weapon like he was born to it. Likewise, a spear was soon tossed to Lyara as well, and she too handled the weapon with aplomb.

“Shall we continue?” Lyara asked.

Edward’s grin was pure Baratheon. “With pleasure.”

X     X     X

“Did you see it?” Arya cried, tugging on Jon’s arm excitedly. “Did you see it?”

“Aye,” Jon replied, chuckling. “And I’m glad I did.” He’d always known that his sister held back when they sparred, but he’d never realised just how much until she and the prince had fought. Gods, it was like watching something out of a story or a legend. “It was a draw, though, since neither of them managed to land a decent hit.”

“Well, I think she won,” Arya proclaimed. “Maybe they’ll have a rematch.”

Jon thought of the light he’d seen in both their eyes when they’d been fighting. Oh, they’d have a rematch. It was like they’d been waiting their whole lives to meet each other and were overjoyed to finally meet. “We’ll see.” He ruffled Arya’s hair. “Did you see my match?”

Arya nodded. “You fought Ser Barristan!”

“I lost.” Jon shook his head in wonder. The knight was every bit the legend people said he was.

“But he complimented you. He said you fought well and everything,” Arya replied. “And I don’t think he would have lied. He didn’t seem like the type of person to lie.”

“No, no, he didn’t.” The words were still warm in Jon’s heart. To be praised by a man like Ser Barristan! And his father had squeezed his shoulder and complimented him on his fine showing as he’d left the sparring arena. 

“And Robb didn’t do too badly either,” Arya said. “Not that he won.”

“He was fighting Ser Jaime,” Jon said. “Robb’s good, but Ser Jaime might be the second-best swordsman in the realm behind Ser Barristan.” Or behind his sister and Prince Edwards, Jon thought. “Still, he did well. Ser Jaime seemed to think so, anyway.”

“Well, I can’t wait to fight the king.” Arya folded her arms across her chest. “You, Robb, and Lyara have all gotten to show off. I’d like a chane to show what I can do.”

“Try not to kill him,” Jon japed. “He’s father’s friend and a good ruler, by all accounts.”

“I’ll be merciful,” Arya said before lowering her voice. “I do hope he takes it easy on me.”

The king had sparred a few bouts himself. Jon had been shocked not just by the raw strength the king possessed, but his speed. No man that large and that strong should be able to move so swiftly. It was clear, too, that he was pulling his blows. Had he struck with anything even close to his full strength, then even the padded, wooden war hammer he’d wielded would have crushed his opponents in a single blow. 

Jon had heard tales of how Robert had struck down Prince Rhaegar during the Battle of the Trident. Seeing the man in action, it was easy to imagine the Targaryen going down beneath a storm of blows from the Baratheon’s mighty hammer.

“Of course, he will, Arya. You’ve seen him around the others. He’s not cruel. Why, he even agreed to spar Bran, and he handled him as kindly as father does.”

Bran, of course, had been starstruck at the thought of sparring the king, and Robert had humoured him, offering words of advice and encouraging the lad to do his best before ending the bout with a simple disarm.

“Look.” Arya huffed and pointed. “They’re talking again.”

Jon followed her gaze and bit back a chuckle. Arya was so used to having their sister’s attention that he wasn’t surprised she was a bit put out at the amount of talking Lyara and the prince had done. It was like they were old friends catching up after a long time apart or something. Yet from the expression on his sister’s face and the warmth in her gaze, it was clear the pair were truly getting along.

Jon smiled. He’d always worried that his fierce, wise sister might struggle to find a man who could appreciate her. Yet everything he’d heard about the prince suggested that he might be precisely such a man. More than anything, he wanted her to be happy. Yet, he would keep a close eye, as would Robb. If the prince were to do anything untoward, well, they’d have to step in. But if he proved to be an honourable man who would make their sister happy? Well, they’d welcome him... after a bit of threatening, of course.

X     X     X

Author’s Notes

You asked for more, so here it is.

Uh oh. People are really getting the wrong impression. Just wait until Edward and Lyara realise what they’ve done. It was also nice writing this version of Robert who is really the king he could have been rather than the king he ended up being. More intrigue to follow. Perhaps a peek into the Sealord’s court or what’s going on Beyond the Wall.

If you’re interested in my thoughts on writing and other topics, you can find those here.

I also write original fiction, which you can find on Amazon here or on Audible here.

[worryinglyinnocent]

Fic: Haven (23/50)

Summary: They say Resembool is a haven, and they’re right. Lush pastures, quaint country town, farmers’ markets on Saturdays: a bucolic paradise.

But it’s more than that. Resembool is a haven for the runaways, the deserters, the people who don’t want to be found…

The Resembool community knows there’s something odd about Hohenheim, but they’re not going to let that stop them helping him out. This is Resembool after all, a place where no one has to hide and neighbours help neighbours, be they building a fence, chasing a sheep, or trying to save the country from an evil they inadvertently helped release centuries ago…

Or: A series of slices of life in an AU in which Hohenheim never leaves, and several broken state alchemists find hope and home in Resembool.

Rated: T

==

Haven

[1] [2] [3] [4] [5] [6] [7] [8] [9] [10] [11] [12] [13] [14] [15] [16] [17] [18] [19] [20] [21] [22] [AO3]

Summary: Trisha decides that she and Hohenheim need a date night. Sherman and Marcoh volunteer to babysit. What could possibly go wrong?

Characters: Marcoh, Sherman (OC), Ed, Al, Trisha

==

When Ab volunteered herself and him for babysitting duty after Trisha lamented not having had a date night since Ed was born, Tim was convinced that she had in fact lost the plot. Tim has no experience with children, and he’s fairly sure that Ab doesn’t either, and he’ll be very surprised if they manage to get to the end of the night with no one getting killed or arrested. Tim has lived through a lot, and yet the idea of spending two hours with the Elric brothers is one of the most terrifying things that he can imagine. How does one go about entertaining children anyway?

When he voices the thought to Ab as they walk up the hill towards the Elric house, she just looks at him.

“Tim, these are Hohenheim’s kids. You know exactly how to entertain them.”

“Ab, you are not teaching those children alchemy!”

“They’ve been learning since they were three! They live and breathe the stuff!”

He can see that he’s not going to convince her that it’s a bad idea, and he’s given up even hoping that no one will be killed or arrested by the end of the night. 

Trisha opens the door and lets them in; Tim has never seen her wearing make-up and not wearing an apron before. Thankfully, Hohenheim looks just the same as he always looks. Tim doesn’t think he can handle any more surprises tonight. 

“They’ve had dinner and they know they’re not allowed any more snacks before bed,” Trisha explains. “So don’t give in however much they might beg. They can stay up until we get home if they want.”

“What are the rules on alchemy?” Tim asks, in the vain hope of heading Ab off at the pass.

Trisha just laughs, which is not at all reassuring, and shows them through to the living room where the boys are playing.

“Boys, Dad and I are going out now. Be good for Miss Ab and Dr Tim.”

“We will.”

Almost as soon as Trisha and Hohenheim leave the house, Ab gives a massive grin, rubbing her hands together.

“Ok kiddos. Who wants to have a go at some whirlwind alchemy?”

The response to this suggestion is an enthusiastically positive one, and Tim groans inwardly. The boys pull on coats and shoes over their pyjamas - at least it’s a mild summer night - and Ab herds them into the garden, showing them how to draw out her basic circle on the ground. Tim supposes he should be thankful that she had the sense not to attempt whirlwind alchemy indoors. 

It’s good to see Ab confident about using her specialised alchemy again though. It took over a year for her to come back to it after she left Ishval and rendered her tattoos useless. Tim hasn’t reached the stage of being comfortable returning to bioalchemy yet. The memories of his time involved in Philosopher’s Stone research are still far too fresh, especially given the conversations that he’s had with Hohenheim since he’s been in Resembool.

"Ok kids, I think we're ready. Tim, there's no need to look like we're about to blow the house down."

Tim raises an eyebrow, and Ab sighs.

"Tim, I am a professional. I promise you that I will not let anyone blow the house down."

Tim remains unconvinced, and is on the verge of drawing up a wall circle that he can activate and throw up to protect the little whitewashed house from what he is certain is going to be imminent destruction. The boys don't seem to notice his consternation and kneel down on the ground, pressing their hands against the circle to activate it. The lightning races around the edge and lights up the array, and they grin at each other. 

"The first thing you need to do is feel the particles in the air like you feel them in the ground when you do earth-based alchemy," Ab says, getting down on the ground with them, her hands hovering over the circle. "Lift your hands off the circle and see if you can feel the air particles. It's a bit harder because they're not tightly packed, but you should be able to feel them moving."

Despite still fearing for his safety, it's nice to see Ab teaching again. Tim knows she always intended to take an apprentice and pass on the secrets of whirlwind alchemy before Ishval happened, and teaching the Elric brothers is about as good a stopgap as she's going to get in the meantime. At least now she's teaching it to those who aren't likely ever to have to use it in service of the state. They've all used their alchemy for destructive ends for so long that sometimes it's hard to remember that it has positive uses as well, rather than just being bent to the military's will. 

"Once you feel the air particles, you need to make them move in the direction that you want them to move in; just like you change the order of the earth particles to make it into a different shape. We're going to make the air into a different shape. It's easiest like this." Ab holds her hands out horizontally, palms together but not quite touching, and makes little circular motions. Tim's seen her throw tornadoes off her palms like lightning and it's mesmerising to see it all in slow motion. A tiny whirlwind begins to form between her hands, and the boys copy her. Ab smiles at their exclamations of wonder, and adjusts their hand positions. 

"Now you can send the air wherever you want it to go. Let's stick with that direction."

Ab throws off her tiny whirlwind away from the house and the tree, and it soon fizzles out in the existing breeze. Perhaps another time, Tim would wonder what he was so worried about, but he's still not convinced that everything's going to be all right yet. 

The boys follow suit, their own little whirlwinds fizzling out soon after, and the light from the transmutation circle fades, this batch of tectonic energy used up. 

"Can we try again?"

"Go for it. Just don't aim the air towards the house or you'll give Tim a heart attack."

The kids continue to practice their little tornadoes for a while and Ab stands back, always ready to catch any wayward whirlwinds and redirect or flatten them. Eventually, the evening gets too cold for them to stay outdoors, and they go back inside. Tim tasks himself with making tea whilst Ab fields question after question about whirlwind alchemy from the boys. 

"What would you use it for?"

"The air's a good source of energy. Think about windmills. We can use whirlwind alchemy to make sure that the windmills are always able to go around and keep working."

It’s good to remember that alchemy can be used to help rather than hurt. 

The boys are evidently getting tired as the pace of their rapid-fire questioning slows, but they’re still awake, if drooping a little, when the front door opens and Trisha and Hohenheim return. 

“Hey boys.” Trisha comes over and gives each of them a kiss, both of them attempting to fend her off with exclamations of grossness. “Were you good for Miss Ab and Dr Tim?”

“Miss Ab taught us Whirlwind alchemy!” Al exclaims.

“Did she now?” Trisha just grins.

“Yeah, we can make windmills go now! Well, only little ones. But I’m sure we’ll get better!”

“I’m sure you will. Now, you go up and clean your teeth, and Dad and I will come tuck you in in a minute.”

The boys protest that they’re not tired, but since the protests are punctuated by long yawns, they give in easily and shuffle up the stairs. 

“They were good as gold,” Ab says to Trisha. “It was good to share my secrets with such enthusiastic pupils again. I know we’ve said it so many times before, but they really do have a natural gift for it. I reckon they could learn any branch they put their mind to.” For a moment, Ab looks wistful. “They’re in the best place, here in Resembool,” she says eventually. “Here where they’ll be hidden, nice and safe away from Bradley and the State Alchemist program wanting to get their claws into their talents.”

“Oh, don’t worry. We’ll make sure no one gets their claws into anyone.” Trisha sounds so bright and optimistic but there’s inner steel there; it’s one of the many qualities that Tim admires in her. 

He and Ab say their goodbyes and leave the house, and Ab gives a happy sigh as they make their way down the hill in the dark. 

“I like to think that one day there’ll be a generation of alchemists who aren’t as screwed up as we are, who can really take it back to its roots and use it for good.”

Tim likes that thought, too.

[vannahfanfics]

Shattered, Not Broken

Category: Hurt and Comfort, Angst, Family Fluff

Fandom: FullMetal Alchemist

Characters: Edward Elric, Alphonse Elric 

The wind rolled over the hill, ruffling the grass to fill the air with a quiet thunder. The green blades flapped against Edward’s boots as he slowly trekked the winding dirt path meandering through the small cemetery on the outskirts of Resembool. The worn gravestones glinted white in the sunlight, bleached like bones. The image made a short wave of nausea roll up his esophagus that made acid burn at the base of his throat. He coughed uncomfortably and swallowed it down. Stop being a wimp, Ed. 

The sun beat down on his back, making his shoulders and long blond hair uncomfortably warm. He swept his braid from his neck to release some of the trapped heat, but a thin sheen of sweat already shone on his skin, and the perspiration had already dampened the neckline of his cotton shirt. Still, Edward ignored the blazing heat and continued his solemn march to the top of the hill, where a pair of headstones sat side-by-side, gleaming in the sun. 

Edward released a long sigh as he buried his hands into the pockets of his trousers. His eyes were lidded as they gazed down at the pair of graves to read the names and dates inscribed on the worn gray stone. His eyes drifted first to the one on the right that read Trisha Elric, then to the newer, cleaner one on the left that simply read Hohenheim. It was on the latter marker that Edward’s eyes remained fixed on, inspecting all the small fissures and specks of dirt that had accumulated in the long months since it had been placed. 

He shifted his foot from one foot to the other, deliberating what exactly to say. He hadn’t known what to think at first when Granny told him that she’d found Hohenheim slouched over his mother’s grave, all the breath and warmth long since vacated his body. He’d just sat there, slack-jawed, and uttered something the lines of, “Oh. So he’s gone, then.” However, when the watchful night closed in and he was finally left to process the fact that his father really was dead and gone, Edward felt a way he’d never expected— shattered. 

“It’s not fair,” he growled under his breath and curled up his fists tight. The gravestone stared back at him, unblinking, unforgiving. “You bastard! You shouldn’t just get to run off and die like that!” he accused with a jabbing finger at the bleached rock. Tears pooled in his eyes and streamed down his cheeks. Were they of sadness? Frustration? Relief? Probably all three. Edward’s chest heaved as his pointing finger wobbled as slight tremors wracked his body. 

“You shouldn’t… You shouldn’t get to do that,” Edward sniffed, voice cracking and softening as the sadness washed over him in great waves. His arm slowly fell to his side, mirroring his head slumping down so that his chin struck his chest. “We were… we were supposed to be together again.” 

Edward had sworn to himself once that he’d never acknowledge Hohenheim as his father and allow him into his life again. Yet, here he was, directly contradicting himself… Because that’s how he felt. Even after years of cursing the man’s name, resenting him for his abandonment, as soon as Edward had clapped eyes on him again, the first thing that had come surging up was not anger. No, that came second. 

What came first was joy— that foolish joy, the kind that makes one think that everything will be all right and nothing bad would ever happen again. Edward had thought that he’d long since grown out of that— after all, his life hadn’t been sunshine and rainbows for such a long time— but just one sight of Hohenheim, and he’d been reduced to that little boy clinging to his mother’s skirts and idyllic childhood. It had been maddening, frustrating, and oh, so nice. Perhaps that moment had never left him, had never truly been washed down by the surging hate he’d drudged up by force. Maybe deep down, Edward had fooled himself into really thinking that Hohenheim would come back. 

“I hate you,” Edward sniffed and rubbed at his eyes. Another lie he told himself day after day. He couldn’t hate Hohenheim, no matter how much he wanted to, after learning all the sacrifices and tribulations the immortal man had endured. As much as Edward wished to convince himself that Hohenheim was a selfish bastard, the fact of the matter was that Hohenheim was a selfless bastard. 

“I hate you for leaving again, you crappy old man,” he sighed and kneeled down in front of the gravestone. He pulled a small flask out of his pocket and uncapped it, then dumped it over the grass. The sharp scent of whiskey wafted into the air, burning Edward’s nostrils, as the brown liquid splashed over the green blades and seeped deep down into the earth to coat the wooden coffin lying below. He returned the empty silver flask to his pocket and then sucked in a breath. “Too many people are celebrating Father’s Day like this, and you just had to go and make me one of ‘em.” 

Edward thought of Alicia. She was probably sobbing over Maes’ grave right now, still too young to understand why her daddy was never coming back. He thought of Winry, who he’d found passed out on her bedroom floor that morning curled around a dusty medical textbook with her father’s name written inside. He thought about all the children across Amestris whose fathers had been taken in needless wars and merciless slaughters. He thought about the Ishvalans; even if they didn’t celebrate Father’s Day— he wouldn’t know. 

Edward thought about Alphonse, who was forcing a smile on his face as he helped Granny make pancakes and had so cheerfully said, “Granny, what should we make in honor of Father tonight?” 

“You should be here, you bastard.” Edward couldn’t muster up and venom to spew anymore. All that was left was the hollow coldness of sorrow, the chill of his voice freezing the breeze that rolled by again. “But happy Father’s Day, all the same.” He reached out to gently splay his hand across the headstone. It felt warm. Edward knew that it was just the stone soaking up the sun’s rays, but he still imagined a heartbeat pulsing within the rock, still imagined that his father was there listening to him tirade with that affectionate, apologetic smirk on his lips. 

Edward hated how much that smirk meant to him. That bastard. 

“Ed!” 

He looked over his shoulder to see Alphonse trotting through the gate, cheeks pink from breathlessness. His little brother hurried up the path to join him at the gravestones. “What… What are you doing?” he panted as he looked in confusion at Edward, kneeled in front of the headstone with his hand tenderly caressing Hohenheim’s name. 

Edward could lie, he supposed, to make himself look good. He didn’t really see the point, though. Alphonse knew him better than anyone; he’d look right through him and then scold him for setting a bad example for his little brother. The image alone of Alphonse stamping his foot and waggling his finger made Edward smile wryly. 

“I’m wishing this bastard a happy Father’s Day,” he shrugged. Alphonse’s eyes nearly bugged out of his head in shock, and he stared at Edward as he slowly rose and shoved his hands back in his pocket. His palm was still warm, heating up the cloth. “Telling him he shouldn’t have gone and died, the damn deadbeat. Now Granny has to drink whiskey all by herself!”

Alphonse stared at him for a moment, and then his face softened into a sweet smile. Alphonse could always pull off that look so well; even when Edward tried, he still looked a little grumpy. His little brother glanced at the gravestone with an appreciative hum; then, he closed his eyes and clasped his hands together in prayer. 

“Happy Father’s Day, Dad! I hope Mom treats you well today.” 

“Don’t say that,” Edward griped and lightly shoved his brother in the shoulder, making him yelp and pout at him. “He doesn’t deserve it. What he ought to be doing is kneeling at her feet, begging for forgiveness for all the missed Mother’s Days!” 

“That’s a bit harsh, don’t you think?” 

“Hell no!” Edward sniffed and turned up his nose. “He’s got a million years to make up for all the crap he put her through!” 

“Well, it’s a good thing they have all the time in the world now,” Alphonse giggled. The comment made Edward stiffen, and then he melted, giving his brother a sappy smile. 

“Yeah,” he admitted. “They do, huh? That still won’t save him from when I get there and sock the hell out of him.” 

“Big Brother! You’ve already socked him while he was still alive!” 

“Yeah, well, I got a few more left in me, okay?!” 

Alphonse heaved a sigh, watching wearily as Edward whirled on his heel and began trudging out of the cemetery. He then trotted to catch up, a grin forming on his lips. 

“Hey, you know what Granny said? She’s making beef stew tonight!” 

“Beef stew, eh? No wonder you’re in such a good mood,” Edward smiled. Alphonse giggled happily and bumped shoulders with him. Edward marveled at the feeling; it wasn’t a metal shoulder, but one of flesh and bone. Even though he’d spent years fighting to get his brother’s body back, sometimes he found himself still not used to it. 

Edward glanced over his shoulder at the cemetery on the hill, where his mother and father rested in eternal slumber. I guess some things you never really will get used to, huh, Hohenheim? he wondered with a small smile. Just like… I’ll never really be used to it— the two of you being gone. 

“Ed! Al! Do you want to go with me to the market?” Winry’s voice came floating down the road as she stood, waving them down and cupping her hand to her mouth as she called. Alphonse cried out in affirmation and sprinted to meet her while Edward stopped walking, admiring the two people who meant the most in the world to him. 

The were voids in his heart that nothing could ever fill, but… Edward had to admit that his heart was pretty full, too— and it wouldn’t be this way if things hadn’t turned out the way that they did. Even if it was pretty damn painful in the process. He tipped his head back to the sky, where the clouds drifted along like white ships in an azure sea. 

I guess I should say thanks too, you shitty old man. 

“Ed! Are you coming?” 

He looked back down, where Winry and Alphonse were both smiling expectantly. 

“Yeah. I’m coming,” he said and got started down the road again. Piece by piece, he’ll put himself back together— even if there were a few holes here and there. Shattered, not broken, because he still had plenty of people here with him.

Enjoy this oneshot? Feel free to peruse my Table of Contents!

[antihero-writings]

The Empty Throne (Ch1)

Fandom: Fullmetal Alchemist (Brotherhood & Manga)

Fic Summary: It's been a long time since that word died on Ed's lips...but relationships may be the only thing that can come back from the dead. || Exploring Ed and Hohenheim's relationship using the songs "Stumbling in Your Footsteps", "The Alchemist", and "Youth" as prompts.

Character focus: Edward Elric

Notes: This chapter explores Ed's view of his father more early on in the series, using the song “Stumbling in Your Footsteps” by Get Scared as a prompt.

Also, this chapter expands upon Chapter 42/Episode 20 "Father Before the Grave," and includes some lines only from the manga. (I actually highly recommend reading it, because Ed and Hohenheim talk more in it than they do in the anime). 

As always, I would absolutely love to write more about this fandom, so feel free to give me FMAB prompts!! You can drop them in my ask box!!

Chapter 1: Living Ghosts

The study door was ajar. Little Ed ran past it without a thought…but as he passed, something in the corner of his eye flickered, and he stopped.

Something. A fleeting shadow, like hope. And his heart staggered.

He backtracked to the door, something in his chest bubbling, a word fluttering to his lips:

“Dad?”

But it dissipated like smoke; there was nothing but an empty chair, and a few flies buzzing in the empty air. Disappointment tugged at his blushing face, before anger took hold, twisted in his chest, and he marched off.

That was stupid of him. How could he possibly think that man was back? It had been weeks now.

“Ed?” His mother popped her head around the corner. “Did you say something?”

“No, nothing. I just…thought I saw something,” he mumbled as he marched up to her.

This wasn’t the first time he’d seen this ghost.

Each time the front door creaked open; each time he saw a shadow across the lawn; each time something woke him in the night, or early in the morning, that word would rise in his chest and ripple onto his lips, and all too often he couldn’t help letting it escape.

And each time Winry came in the door, or a stray dog walked by the porch light, or he found it was just Al coming back from the bathroom… the word would flicker and die.

The hope that planted that word there slowly unwound, a ball of yarn at the center of his chest getting smaller and smaller; a plant withering and dying.

The house was full of ghosts such as these.

Over time that thing in his chest that jumped and hammed at each passing noise, and plummeted into his stomach when there was nothing there, became tamer, less excitable. But it didn’t just die… it changed.

In the fall it became something…instead of bright and warm, bubbling inside him, it was sharp, and burning; a painful heaviness sitting in the center of his chest.

After all, Icarus felt the warmth of the sun before he sank into the cold waters of despair.

And that word, so eager to flutter to his lips, he trapped in a jar.

******

Trisha felt a tug on her dress as she walked through the garden. She turned to see her son’s golden eyes shimmering up at her.

“Oh, hello Ed!” She turned to him, holding the basket at her side. “What’s going on?”

“Are you picking tomatoes?” he asked like his mind was on other things.

“Yes, I was going to make soup for us! You always loved this soup! Right?”

He scratched his head, frowning, then muttered softly;

“When’s dad coming back?”

The abruptness of this question seemed to hit Trisha.

This wasn’t the first time he’d asked this, nor the second, nor the third. Still, each time it hurt her a little more. She understood his reasons…but she knew Ed didn’t. And she’d promised Hohenheim she wouldn’t tell them…not that they could really understand at this age anyways.

She’d wait for him. But she hoped he’d come back soon, for their sons’ sakes.

Her lips curved into a smile all the same—somehow—as she knelt down in front of him.

“Oh honey.” She set the basket down, and put her hands together. “He’ll be back before you know it!”

She smiled, yes…but it didn’t quite reach her eyes.

“It’s been months now.” Ed muttered.

“I know.” She petted his head. “I know its hard. You just gotta be patient Ed. I promise if you just keep waiting a little longer—”

“Yeah but…how long?”

“I don’t know honey.” The sadness tugged at her words; the sadness she was desperately trying to keep at bay. “But I know he’ll come back.”

He paused, looking at the ground, his expression twisting, like he didn’t want to speak the words festering behind his lips.

“What is it?” She asked gently.

“Why did he leave?” His voice was soft. “Were…Were we… not good enough for him?”

“Oh honey.” She put her hand on his cheek. “Have you been carrying that around this whole time? Of course not.” She pulled him into a hug. “You’re perfect. And your dad knew that. You were the world to him. He just...had something he needed to do.”

“What went wrong?” he mumbled into her shirt. “Was it something I said?”

“No, of course not!” She held him tighter. “Nothing went wrong at all!”

He wanted to believe that. He wanted to hold these words like precious jewels.

Once, he could have. Once these words had given Ed hope, made him look forward to tomorrow, be willing to wait. But she’d said them enough by now they were nothing but that; empty, flowery words.

If they were truly the world to that man, why would he leave his world behind? He’d had it all.

They were meant to be a kingdom, a fortress against any obstacle. But the king had got up and left his throne.

Adults always throw around such words when they don’t want to tell kids a painful truth, thinking they’re ignorant. Ed thought that was crueler than simply speaking said truth. Because the more they repeated those things…the more the truth behind them bled through the cracks in their smiles.

The truth that Ed could see behind her smile, the truth that made him begin to cry into her shirt today was that he knew he was never coming back.

******

Ed’s footsteps were rough against the floorboards as he walked into Pinako’s house.

Usually he would give her a pleasant hello, but his irritation was rather boundless at the moment;

“Hey I’m here. Sorry it took so long. Also a stray mutt decided to follow me home.” He jerked his thumb over his shoulder.

Hohenheim froze, peering at him over his glasses.

“Edward! You had your brother and I worried sick!” She smacked him with a dish towel. “Next time call us!”

“Sorry.” He scratched the back of his head. “I got dragged off on an…unexpected detour.”

She pursed her lips. “Some top secret military mission no doubt.”

Before he could respond, her eyes landed on Hohenheim and her expression fell. She glanced between them, and her voice was gentler as she spoke;

“I see you found your father.”

“The bastard decided to materialize is more like it.” Ed put his hands on his hips

“I wanted to warn you he was here…But you didn’t exactly give me a chance.”

“You need warning before seeing me?” Hohenheim looked strangely sad at this.

“Yeah,” Ed threw over his shoulder, “a big blinking sign would have been nice.”

“Well.” Ed didn’t wait for a response before he changed the subject. “I have sand in…places, so I’m going to go take a shower, if that’s alright with you freaks.”

They didn’t have a chance to reply before he rounded the corner.

The floorboards creaked as he marched down the hall, and into the bathroom, shutting the door a little louder than necessary.

He groaned, kicking the empty trash can—(it went flying across the room, since he used his automail leg)—before pausing and leaning his head back against the door.

Closing his eyes, he let out a long sigh. Had he been holding his breath ever since he saw that man?

He hadn’t been lying about the sand…but more than anything he just needed some space to breathe.

The news about Maria Ross, what the Ishvalans said in the Xerxes ruins, the Rockbells…and now Hohenheim showed up? After ten years he picked now? Not when they were in Liore, or Central, or even when Al was there too, nooooo. It just had to be in the three seconds he alone was here.

Three seconds…A day.

…Ten years.

Was the difference negligible to Hohenheim?

That was the only explanation he could think of for why he might react the way he did today. Were all adults like that? He hoped he wouldn’t be when he grew up. Did they not realize how the years felt to a kid? Maybe ten years wasn’t much to an adult like him.

But to someone still growing up? Ten years may as well be a century. Childhood is the only time the years feel long; just a few hours to play is weeks in some fantasy world. Those moments get shorter as each year goes by, like a speeding train, and suddenly you start to see how many seconds you’ve wasted. Kids don’t have that concept. Ed was just starting to understand it himself.

None of them could ever get those years back. They couldn’t patch the memories up with the other sewn back into the gaps. Those years when they might have played together, ate together, practiced alchemy together…just been together. All that might have been was snuffed out when the door shut.

And today, now he walked back in like he left yesterday.

Who did he think he was?

Ed opened his eyes.

What was he doing again? Towels. Yes. He should probably get those.

After cleaning up the spilled trash, and putting the can back, he walked over to the cupboard above the toilet to pull one down—(…the rest fell on top of him in the process—no it wasn’t because he was short).

When Ed saw Hohenheim at the grave, he’d been sure it was a ghost. It was the right place for one, after all. Even a living one.

Over the years he’d seen far too many ghosts of Hohenheim to believe the man standing there was anything corporeal. He was too angry to allow him to return at the moment he was least needed.

After reorganizing the towels and setting his by the shower, he pulled his hair out of the messy braid he’d made, catching his reflection in the mirror as his hair fell across his shoulders.

“We have the same look.”

Ed scowled at the mirror, balling his hand into a fist.

That’s all he had to say, after ten years?

“We do not have the same look.” He muttered to the mirror.

They may not have the same style…but he couldn’t deny they had the same hair and eyes.

He was almost granted the mercy of forgetting. Made sense, considering how long it’d been since he’d seen his ugly mug.

Proceeding to the shower, he turned on the water, the faint hissing filling the room as steam rose, warming the air.

This wasn’t the first time he wished he had inherited more of his mother’s features. More than once his mom mentioned how he and Al looked like their father. That had made her happy, and once upon a time that was enough. But now that they were alone, he lamented the fact that he had his father’s features instead of hers… he’d much rather people saw her when they looked at him.

He took off his clothes, throwing them onto the floor and stepping into the hot water. The warmth spread through him, like a cure to the bitter cold piercing his chest. Sighing, he closed his eyes and put his hands on the back of his neck, letting it trickle across his face.

So long since he’d seen his ugly mug.

Ten years. It may as well have been a century.

The last time he’d seen him it was through the wide eyes of a child, looking up at this towering figure with his back turned. Those cold, gold eyes, looking down at him. Saying nothing at all as he left them to grow up on their own.

He had grown up since then. He’d done and seen things adults couldn’t bear to look at. And he’d stopped seeing Hohenheim through those eyes; those eyes that gazed up hopefully, sure the adults have all the answers, wondering why he did this, assuring himself that man had some logical explanation that he’d come back one day to give them. And they’d forgive him. Some hope he would come back and fix their future. That he wasn’t a bad man.

Now he knew he wasn’t a saint, nor a good man who had simply gone astray. It was much simpler than that;

He was just a fool.

Ed reached over and grabbed the soap.

That was all. There was no deeper reasoning. No explanation to be had. He was just a fool. Some deadbeat dad who couldn’t even be bothered take care of his sons. He chose to save himself, instead of saving them. Left them to make sense of it all on their own.

So that’s what he was doing; making sense of it all. And the sense he saw was that he was a selfish bastard, nothing more.

Their mother had once said that they were the world to that man.

If that was true, he’d had the world right at his feet…and he’d walked away. He had it all, and he stepped off the planet. He hoped he fell into a black hole.

Was it so hard for him to stay, and take responsibility for his kids, and own up to that fact that they were his own, despite the fact that he was a fool? Even a fool could try his best.

Was the look in their eyes so hard to bear?

Today, he hoped it was. Ed hoped his eyes haunted him as much as Hohenheim’s gaze had himself. He hoped he could still taste them on his tongue those ten years. That he could never truly spit them out.

That wide-eyed, shimmering gaze of yesterday had become a fire of glass no one could put out, or shatter.

He knew that no one was going to take care of him. No one was going to comfort him when he cried anymore. The only one who would look after him was himself—(well, and Al too).

—Yet… the moment he saw him, he was hit with a shrink ray. Those wandering eyes, wondering thoughts—

—Dad? I-Is that you? After all this time?—

—Why did you leave? What are you doing back?—

—(Please stay)—

And that resounding desperate plea from long ago he’d done everything to deny, to block out…

Please come home again.

The house was empty. So, unbearably empty. A hollowness that bored into his chest and made a nest there.

When the thunder rumbled outside, the house shook with it; the wind whispering through the corridors.

That word had long since died on his lips; he’d long since stopped seeing Hohenheim out of the corner of his eye; his heart had long since stopped jumping at each passing noise.

Yet, now, when he walked by the kitchen, sometimes he thought he could still smell Mom’s soup. When he strode through the garden he was sure he saw a flutter of her dress. When he lie down to sleep, sometimes he swore he heard the wind whisper “Goodnight,” and felt a kiss on his forehead.

And though that thing in his heart had hardened, the warden of his lips never pardoned, when he saw a shadow across the lawn or heard a stray noise, the image of a man with golden hair and eyes flared up to his brain.

It wasn’t him. It couldn’t be. He was never coming back. He forgot about them, left them to rot away, and for that he didn’t deserve the courtesy of these far-fetched wonderings.

But the house was so empty. And the hollowness burrowed into his chest.

So that night, after hearing his parents’ voices echoing through his dreaming head. Something in Ed broke.

He threw off the covers and stood there in his room, breath heavy on his chest.

The buzzing in his body wouldn’t let him go back to sleep, or lay there doing nothing. Something was vibrating at the frequency of everything he was made of. The resonance animated his legs, carried him through the moaning hallway, down the stairs of that big empty house, and into the yard, where the rain was pouring down.

He ran, his bare feet getting cut on pebbles and sticks.

Was he crying or screaming? All he knew was that humming in his body just kept getting louder.

He tripped on a rock and fell to the ground, his hands smeared in the mud. But he didn’t get up.

That resonance manifested in his throat. And at last he knew he was screaming.

It started with wordless sounds rending the air, like he was some wounded animal caught in a trap, until finally it manifested into words;

“Where did you go, you bastard?!” He roared. “Why did you leave?! Why did you leave us?! Leave mom?! Were we not enough for you?! Huh?! What did you have to lose?!”

His breath cut through his chest in gasps as he sobbed onto the grass, his tears mixing with the rain, the dirt and grime coating his hands and knees.

The thunder rumbled in reply.

This house had once been an illustrious kingdom. They made castles out of couch cushions, cathedrals out of books. They were lead by a perfect king and queen whom they would follow to the ends of the earth.

Until the king packed his things, and left his throne, his riches, his people too. Shut the portcullis, and was never seen again.

Until the queen lie bleeding on the checkerboard floor.

“Mom…please…” His voice was barely a drip of rain now. “Please come back, Mom.”

The kingdom lie in ruins, a crumbling echo of what it once was.

Their kingdom had lost its king, and now its queen too. Two lonely knights wandered the board alone. Who was left to lead?

The word was less than a breath:

“Dad…Dad please…”

Tears streaming down his face he sat up and yelled to the grey, grumbling air, the reverberation in his lungs louder than that thunder, “PLEASE COME HOME AGAIN!”

He fell back down, breathing heavily, shivering, finally realizing just how cold he was.

“I promise to be good.” He murmured. “Let us show you we’re good enough for you.”

The sentences ran out, and finally into the dirt there was only word breathed over and over:

“Dad…Dad…Dad…”

Until, at last, that word was gone from his lips.

He put the soap back and moved on to the shampoo.

The moment he saw Hohenheim before that grave…

He felt so small.

And he hated feeling small.

Hohenheim’s eyes hadn’t changed one bit. He may as well have walked straight back through the door that day.

That look from when he left was a scar across his mind, one that still burned when the nights were long enough, and the days were hard enough. He almost searched his body for the mark.

Even though the anger was sizzling on his tongue, bolstering him up, making him feel superior, he couldn’t help but feel so tiny.

“You were hiding the memory.”

Said so casually, reading him like a book when he’d looked at less than a page. He wanted more than anything for him to be wrong.

—(But when your house is full of ghosts, the only way to keep them from following you…is to burn it down)—

No How have you been, Edward? No I’m sorry I left, Edward. Not even a simple explanation or apology. Were those two little words so hard to say?

Ed felt so sick to his stomach.

He leaned forward, closing his eyes, resting his automail arm on the wall, the water draining through his hair.

He wanted to wash it all away, this day, the scent off his skin…erase the connections. But no matter how hard he scrubbed, the traces wouldn’t come off.

After turning off the water, he reached out from the curtain to grab the towel, ruffling his hair with it, drying off and putting his clothes back on, carrying his jacket over his shoulder.

As he passed by, the mirror taunted him;

You’ll never be free from him.

When he reached the door he hesitated, his fingers flickering before the doorknob. He bit his lip, wondering if he should go out there at all.

He didn’t want to see that man, to talk to him.

It’d been so long.

The look on his face as he left was burned into his mind. When he saw him again, before that grave, for a moment that memory was all he could see. How could that tape, so long stuck in one place, suddenly be moving again? Talking and walking like it wasn’t defective for ten years?

What could he possibly say to him? What should he say to him? What did he want to say to him?

Nothing. Said the wrath that hadn’t been put out by the water.

Everything. Said the little boy in the rain.

He took a deep breath before venturing into the hall, and a long exhale before entering the kitchen.

Pinako was standing at the sink in an apron, stirring something, while Hohenheim sat at the table cleaning his glasses—(ya know, not helping her, like the bastard he was).

Ed threw his jacket on the back of a chair, determinedly not looking at Hohenheim, and walking up to Pinako.

“Can I help you with anything, Granny?”

“Sure. Keep stirring this for me.” She pointed to the pan of the stove, then added, “You should feel right at home.”

Ed looked into the pan to see it was full of bean sprouts.

“WHADDYA TRYING TO SAY, BEAN SPROUT LADY?!”

“I MEANT WHAT I SAID, YA MIDGET!”

The house soon bounced with their indiscernible shouting match.

After they’d exhausted the topic, Ed stirred bitterly, and leaned over, whispering out of the corner of his mouth,

“So do you have any idea what the hell he’s doing back?”

“Beats me.” She muttered. “I’ve got the same information as you, kid; he just decided to show up one day.”

A few sprouts fell on the counter and sizzled as he gave him the stink eye over his shoulder.

“Who does he think he is?” he grumbled, “Showing up without so much as a warning...”

“You’re one to talk.”

“Wja—That’s different!”

“Well…Like it or not he is your father, Ed. Maybe you oughtta trying talking to him.”

“What, you mean like before he decides to jump ship again?”

“I can hear you, you know.” Hohenheim’s level voice broke through.

“Yeah well—good.” Ed grunted and stirred more vigorously, but didn’t continue the topic.

After a moment’s silence, Den clicked over to them and lay at Ed’s feet, whining slightly.

“Hey, buddy.” He switched stirring hands to pet him. “Is something wrong?”

“…Animals have never much liked me.” Hohenheim answered softly.

Ed smirked, scratching Dug behind the ears. “Good boy.”

“Alright, that should be enough, thank you.” Pinako took over. “Sit down, Ed. Supper’s just about ready.”

“Oh.” He backed up, remembering that staying for dinner entailed actually conversing with that man. “Well, on second though I…I’m actually not that hungry.”—(which wasn’t a lie).

Pinako looked at him over her glasses like she knew exactly what he was thinking.

“Sit. Down.” She enunciated.

Ed surveyed the room and sat in the spare chair against the wall, facing away, putting his hand on his chin.

After a moment Pinako grabbed the back of the chair and dragged him into the spot opposite Hohenheim.

“You’re strong for an old lady!”

“You’re weak for a young man.”

“Wh—I’m plenty strong!”

“Maybe if you drank more milk.” She put a glass of it in front of his plate. “You’d be stronger.”

“So we meet again ya bastard.” Ed scowled.

Hohenheim looked like he was about to speak when Pinako clarified, sitting beside him,

“He’s talking to the milk.”

“Ah!” His tone shifted. “It appears you and I have something else in common!”

Ed looked between the two like he was about to start a self destruct sequence.

He grabbed the milk and tried to chug it, but quickly failed and ended up spitting it out.

“Nope.” He coughed, milk dribbling down his chin. “Still can’t do it.”

Ed thought he saw Hohenheim’s mouth quirk up slightly, but it was quickly overshadowed by the realization that he was staring at him. Not in a you’re-talking-so-I-should-look-at-you way, but a ah-yes-a-test-subject kind of way.

“Your eyes stuck, old man?”

Rather than apologizing, or stopping—(like a normal person)—he adjusted his glasses to get a better lock on. “This is the first time I’ve gotten a good look at your automail.”

Ed looked at his own arm, realizing there was an unfortunate side effect to taking his jacket off. He looked back and forth from him to Pinako, as if she’d rescue him.

He’d never felt embarrassed about his automail before—actually, it was pretty badass, if he said so himself. But Hohenheim’s scrutinizing continued to be that shrink ray—why? He didn’t care what he thought…

“Pretty nice, handiwork, huh?” Pinako jabbed him with her elbow.

“Yes, expert craftsmanship.” Hohenheim responded absentmindedly.

“Wouldja quit examining me!”

Hohenheim finally broke his lock, resuming eating. “Pinako said it was your leg too.”

“What, you want a fashion show?” He spoke through his food.

“No, no that’s fine.” He said like it was a genuine offer. He took a bite of food before continuing. “So your leg was taken when you tried to transmute your mother, and your arm when you transmuted your brother’s soul into one of my suits of armor, yes?”

Ed swallowed roughly, turning to Pinako. “Did you tell him everything?!”

“Well…He does have a right to know.”

“Since when?! He doesn’t have a right to anything when walked out on us!”

“How old were you?” Hohenheim plowed on like he couldn’t hear them.

“Eleven.” He answered through gritted teeth.

“That’s rather impressive. You were able to bind a soul at just eleven? There’s not many who could do that at thirty.”

It was the first time someone said that that he didn’t think sounded impressed at all.

“How is your brother doing? I would have liked to have seen him.”

“As well as he can be without a body.” He muttered through his food again. He couldn’t really taste anything.

Hohenheim paused before asking softly;

“…Why did you do it Edward?”

Ed nearly choked, jerking his head up, his eyed widening. Was he really asking him this, now?

“Why do you think?!” He stabbed his food without intention of bringing it to his mouth.

“Didn’t you know the risks?”

“We didn’t care!” His voice rose, and he stood up, his chair groaning against the floor. “It’s not like we had anyone here to—oh I don’t know—give us a reason not to!” He paused, then said in a normal volume. “No offense, Granny.”

Hohenheim said nothing. Even though Ed was standing over him, as his glasses shimmered in the light, he still felt as though he was being looked down upon.

That look, that look from when he left, never leaving his face, that look that made him want to punch him—(he would have, if Pinako wasn’t there)—

“I’m going to bed.” He grunted quietly, turning around.

“But you’ve barely touched your food...” Pinako pointed out gently.

“I’ve lost my appetite!”

Ed just caught the words “He’s rather hotheaded, isn’t he?” before he slammed the bedroom door.

It was then he noticed how almost every part of his body was tense.

He leaned back against the door, this time sinking all the way to the floor, putting his hands on his face, digging his fingers in his hair, the tenseness translating to trembling.

One conversation.

One moment.

Ten years.

Once upon a time he waited weeks for him to come back. Once upon a time, he wanted more than anything to just talk to him—he’d take a mere moment. To talk about something, anything.

Now that he was back, he could barely stand to be in the same room with him.

The buzzing in his body made him want to run out into the fields and scream again, to punch him over and over until he was beaten bloody. But this time he remained in place, a creature frozen in ice, trying to break out, shaking in his crystal prison.

Now their kingdom had become more than just a ruin, or an echo of itself…it was a bone yard.

Ed said he wanted to go to bed, and he did, but apparently that translated to ‘lay awake in bed for hours.’

He didn’t know how many had transpired when Hohenheim came in. Ed didn’t directly see him, but he knew it was him. For one thing, Pinako would never be so creepy. He didn’t even do or say anything, he just came, and left. Pervert.

…And the worst part of this day wasn’t seeing him again, it wasn’t the anger broiling in his gut…

It was that as he sat up in bed, staring at the door…for the first time in close to ten years he could taste the putrefied remains of that word on his lips.

[winryofresembool]

Edwin fic: Coffee Shop Reunion

Summary: a cockroach attacks Winry and Ed is there to protect her (sorry I just can’t write a serious summary for this one) Coffee shop AU/modern AU

A/N: Yes, I know, the most cliched AU ever. But I’ve never written one before and I had a lot of fun with this, so I regret nothing! Who knows, MAYBE if you guys like it, I may write more, but I won’t 100% promise anything (committing to LCMTI back in the day was a Lot and I’m not mentally in a place where I can promise I’ll manage to write regular updates). But anyway, I hope you guys enjoy and please, please, review because it has a HUGE power in motivating me!

Genre: general? Bits of drama and fluff

Words: 1700+

Warnings: cockroaches :P (May also be known as Kimblee)

ao3

...

It was just another annoying, busy day at the coffee house for Edward Elric. It was only midday but he had already broken 2 cups, almost lost his temper at 3 customers who were either being rude or taking too long in deciding what they wanted to order while the line started getting longer behind them, and nearly told his boss he was quitting. He was glad he hadn’t done that, though. He really needed the money and being realistic, he knew finding another job wouldn’t be easy for someone as young and inexperienced as him. His brother was still in the hospital and someone had to pay the bills… If his good for nothing dad dared to show up one day, he had no doubt he’d punch the old man right in the face, he thought. Ed was dragged out of his violent fantasies by a new customer, one he didn’t remember seeing before. If he had, he was sure he would remember.

The customer was a young woman, around his age, Ed estimated. Her long, blonde hair was tied on a simple ponytail, and her blue eyes were measuring him as if wondering why he was working in a place like this. She was pretty, but Ed noticed that unlike many other girls that visited this coffee shop, she didn’t pay a lot of attention to her looks. Her mechanic overalls were covered with oil and she also had a tiny oil smudge on her face.

The girl must have noticed Ed’s distraction, because she asked sharply: “Hey?! Do I get service here?”

Ed was going to apologize, but something about her tone set him off. He was already frustrated because of the earlier, so instead he blurted: “What do you want?”

“I may choose another coffee shop the next time if this is how you treat customers…” The girl growled, her eyes gleaming angrily. “But anyway, I’m in a bit of a hurry so a cup of espresso and a sandwich would do. Please,” she added sarcastically.

“Coming,” Ed mumbled and started making the hot drink. One side of him wanted to add salt or pepper (or both) into the drink but he refrained from doing that, knowing this girl would surely complain to his boss, and he was already close to getting fired as he was…

Finally, he delivered the girl’s order (after procrastinating as long as he could without being worried about her attacking him for it) and proceeded to serve other customers. He was still glancing at her from the corner of his eye every once in a while when he was carrying something to that direction. Even though he hated to admit it, something about that girl had raised his curiosity. First of all, she was looking at a map. Not from some phone app, but an actual printed map. Who used those anymore besides older people? It also meant she had probably moved in recently, not yet familiar with this area, Ed concluded.

Second of all, he noticed her having a med school book on the table. A mechanic and a doctor? That sounded like a fascinating combination to Ed, who was studying chemistry and who could have also used a mechanic for his prosthetic leg. But they had just been rather rude to each other, and he wasn’t the type who would go to her and say “Oh hey, sorry about earlier, what would you say if you and I tried to get to know each other better?” So he decided to give up and try to get his mind out of that topic and focus on other customers.

A few minutes later, a dark haired man who reminded Ed of a cockroach arrived into the coffee shop. Something about him made Ed’s neck hair rise a bit despite him ordering and paying just like any other customer would. For a while the man seemed to be contemplating where to sit, and to Ed’s annoyance he found just the seat he wished that man wouldn’t leave alone – next to the blonde girl.

“Is this seat taken?” the man asked, but he had already put his coffee on the table, indicating he wasn’t going anywhere even if she said no.

“Uh, I guess it isn’t…” The girl said unnecessarily, the man already sitting when she finished her answer.

“Good. What’s the name of my pretty companion?”

The girl wondered if she should have felt complimented or annoyed, but she chose the latter. “I’m Winry.”

When she didn’t say anything else, he asked: “What are you reading?” nodding towards the girl’s book.

“Just something for school… Sorry, but I’m a bit busy here,” she took the book and tried to focus on reading it, but that wasn’t working. The man was still staring at her.

“Could you please stop watching me like that?” Winry finally said when he hadn’t moved his gaze from her for at least 3 minutes.

“What, can’t a man look at a pretty girl?”

“No, not when I don’t even know you, yet your stare screams ‘I own you’,” Winry answered honestly, trying to keep her voice calm even though it was getting hard.

“Excuse me?” The man started to lose his cool. “I have to look at something and you happen to be right in front of me.”

“Yes, because you sat right there on purpose. There are plenty of empty seats in this café yet you chose that exact spot,” Winry pointed out. She wasn’t wrong; the rush hour was already over and there weren’t that many customers around currently.

“So? It’s a free world. And you said I could sit here,” he kept insisting.

“I did not…”

“Excuse me?” Ed, who had noticed the raised voices, finally interrupted them. “Is there a problem here?”

“No,” Winry said, not wanting the rude barista to meddle in. She could handle that stranger on her own. However, the older man told Ed: “Yes. This woman said I wasn’t allowed to sit here even though it was a free seat.”

“I think that’s because you were bothering her,” Ed snarled, giving the man a glare that could have probably killed a weaker person.

“I was just sitting here!”

“Try being stared at like that for 5 minutes and then tell me if it was ‘just sitting’. You were looking at her like she’s an object!” Ed growled, each word getting more threatening. “Listen, dude. I give you two options. Either you leave her alone, or I will call the security. Or remove you from here personally.” Ed may not have been tall, but he looked like a man who stood behind his words, so the raven haired man decided to listen to him, even if just this one time. He did mumble something about Ed’s boss, though, as he passed him.

When he had left the scene, Winry spoke: “Thanks. Though you wouldn’t have had to.”

She sounded mildly defensive to Ed, to which he crossed his arms and raised his eyebrow with annoyance.

“Oh OK. Well, the next time someone tries to harass you, I’ll just leave you to handle it on your own.” He grunted and turned back to go and serve other customers.

“Wait. Sorry. I didn’t mean to… I mean, I appreciate your help.” Winry said quietly and gave Ed an ashamed look. She hadn’t meant to snap like that.

He took a couple of steps back towards her, his face now worried.

“Does that kind of thing happen to you often?” he asked with a lot softer voice than earlier.

“Uh… it wasn’t the first time,” Winry admitted. “But I am from a small town so it is a bit different there…”

“I’m sorry that some of us can be such idiots…” Ed shook his head, looking like he genuinely meant it. “And sorry about that earlier, I was being quite an asshole too. It’s been a rough day…”

“I guess we all have those sometimes…” Winry sighed.

“Sorry if I’m prying but can I ask where you have moved from? You see, I’m from a small place myself, moved here after my mother’s death…” Ed wasn’t sure why he mentioned that to a stranger but for some reason it felt right, like he had known her way longer than 5 minutes.

“Oh, I’m from Resembool”, Winry noted, “You probably haven’t heard of it, it’s just a small village. I moved here only 2 weeks ago.”

“You gotta be kidding me!” Ed exclaimed. “I’m from there too…” The puzzle pieces started connecting in his head. “Wait a sec, I think… I think I know you. You’re Winry Rockbell, aren’t you?”

“I am, but how… Ed? Edward Elric?” Realization struck Winry as she took in the barista properly for the first time. “I can’t believe I didn’t recognize that antenna, you still have it,” Winry started laughing. In reality, Ed’s golden eyes were what had given him out, but she wasn’t going to tell that to him, not yet anyway.

“Oh, nice to see you remember my antenna,” Ed said, smirking. “It’s like my trademark at this point.”

“I remember one time when our teacher was annoyed by it and tried to press it down without success,” Winry smiled at the memory.

“I still haven’t forgiven that old witch…” Ed said, pretending to be angry. “But anyway…” Suddenly he seemed a bit awkward. “I know this may feel a bit fast especially after what just happened… But if you ever want someone to show you some places here or anything… I could be interested in doing that.”

“Well, as long as you know that if you act like that creeper just did, I WILL kick your ass.” Winry smiled mischievously. “But sure, I’d like that!”

She pulled out a piece of paper and a pen from her bag and gave it to Ed, who wrote his phone number down on it.

“If you don’t want to contact me, that’s fine,” he noted, “but in all honesty, some change would be nice for me too. The coffee house life can be pretty dull sometimes…”

“I believe you,” Winry nodded. “We’ll see what’s gonna happen this weekend! But I think you should go back now, there’s quite a line there.” She referred to the customers waiting to be served, and Ed realized with embarrassment he had stayed talking with her much longer than planned.

“Oh. Right. But maybe I’ll see you soon!”

“Yep, maybe.” Winry winked at him before collecting her stuff and leaving the coffee house.

[meggannn]

Thoughts and analysis on Gen. Armstrong (if you don't mind)

oh absolutely. a lot of this is speculation on my part, but it’s just my reading and theories on how she kind of came to be who she is.

so i vibe with armstrongs being a very traditional, patriarchal family in a very old-fashioned country. they had four daughters, olivier being the oldest and (arguably) most capable, but alex, the second youngest kid but only son, was the one chosen to lead the family. i think that olivier carried a lot of the burdens of being the oldest sibling and oldest daughter.

maybe olivier was the first daughter in the armstrong family in a long list of sons? i like that idea because it kind of has the opportunity harden her to the world as a kid, in my mind. a lot of excitement for the firstborn in an illustrious family, and… it’s a girl. ugh. okay, well, we’ll try again.

except i think olivier really decided to just start doing whatever she thought a male firstborn would get to do, taking her studies seriously, preparing to be the armstrong heir, and her family just kinda sighed and didn’t take her seriously. when she joins the military, i am going to bet that she either had to fight for it, or there was a lot of familial backlash/tsking between her parents because ~a woman shouldnt be in the army~ (i am operating under the belief she’s the only female officer to ever make it to general, because to my recollection i don’t think we’ve ever seen another female officer as high or higher than her). and when alex follows her to the military years later, i’m going to bet she was L I V I D when their parents were like “well of course, he’s the oldest son, he’s going to make us proud.” there were screaming matches of epic proportions when she joined, and when he does, it’s all fine. (even alex as an adult isn’t entirely rid of sexism when he asks when she’s ever gonna change her attitude so she can get a husband. and when she challenges his right to head the family, he arguably loses because he underestimated her. although i’m also going to chalk part of that up to the fact that although alex wanted to head the family, he didn’t NEED to win as badly as olivier needed to, because she needed to kick their family out and use the mansion to house her troops to prepare for the promised day. that’s the kind of person she is, “i need this to happen and so it will happen, i will give myself no other option.”)

i don’t think that olivier is the kind of person who pushes her limits to try to “prove” anything to other people; maybe she started by trying to mostly prove it to herself, but it eventually just became who she is. no nonsense. very protective, but maybe tired of taking care of kids/siblings. highly capable, very savvy. perfect for briggs. i think she takes her role as their leader VERY seriously. she knows she’s earned it, and up north defending the border, she sees how every person matters.

i’ve always wondered if there’s something in how olivier is stationed at briggs, the furthest possible post away from central. i don’t think it’s to get away from anything, exactly; it does seem like the best job suited for her. i think partly this represents her physical distance and distain for politics: she clearly looks down on mustang, possibly because he’s a state alchemist, and maybe part of it is for his reputation of being an annoying flirt who can charm his way up the ranks while maybe she had to fight for every rank she earned, though i think also part of it is because she thinks he’s naive to join the very system he’s trying to abolish. but as we see in late show, she’s not terrible at the politics and backstabbing, i think she just doesn’t like to deal with bullshit. she’s a very blunt person. she’ll play chess if she has to, clearly, but when she pulls the sword on the room full of officers, you know she’s been waiting MONTHS to do that.

she also doesn’t like alchemy. i’ve always wondered if there’s a reason behind this – the wiki says “she views [equivalent exchange] as a mindset promoting easy handouts and unnecessary compromise” so i’m guessing she doesnt like philosophies that base themselves around quid pro quo agreements, especially since it leads very easily to corruption. the armstrongs are a very noble family that take that sort of thing seriously. i think she’s smart enough to realize alchemy is often NECESSARY, but the state alchemists themselves are… ugh. difficult to deal with and probably almost always really bossy. and think they’re so fuckin special. and also all male. so it’s no wonder she doesn’t give a shit about edward elric, some kid who shows up with no warning with a letter from her annoying brother, asking for her help.

so already she has a chip on her shoulder about alex: he’s a younger sibling she had to take care of; he’s a younger BROTHER who got more support and fewer roadblocks than she did for achieving (or even wanting) the same things way before he ever did; he’s also an alchemist, and state alchemist. she’d see that as annoying at best and borderline dishonorable at worst.

and then ishval.

so for the record, i fully believe that by the events of canon, olivier’s intense disgust for alex for his “cowardly” actions in ishval is mostly, if not entirely, an act. i think it’s EASY for her to act like it’s real, because she struggles with real feelings of hostility and annoyance toward alex for the reasons above, and she WOULD probably think he’s a poor soldier for defying orders…… but would she openly advocate for genocide? she’s not perfect, but i don’t think that of her. but she lets absolutely none of that internal questioning show on the outside. externally? “my brother is a disgrace. he failed to protect this country. if i were head of the family, i’d dishonor him publicly.” and alex, you know, i think he sees past this, a little? he knows she has to say these things otherwise she’d lose her reputation and might also be demoted, given she’s on a rickety foundation as a woman general as is. she doesn’t have to be so passionate about her opinions, but she might also have gained a target on her back by his actions in ishval; maybe they’d assume she had ishvallan sympathies because he was her brother. so she’s already got enough baggage against alex, and he inadvertently dumps some more political bullshit on her back just because he didn’t do his job. i think she’d say the things she did to distance herself from alex, not because she’s angry with him or disappointed in him (though there is a bit of that, but for unrelated reasons), to keep her position. she’s very ruthless politically. you could question the morality of this, like i do, but i don’t entirely blame her for feeling like she could lose her position as the only female general in charge of defending a politically hot border position.

fma has a rather annoying “we don’t see color” attitude wrt race at times, but in the case of olivier, whose attitude after all the years in briggs is “we literally cannot afford to be prejucide, there are so few capable people here, and if someone works, they are part of the team and will be treated with respect, full stop” it makes sense why she’d say what she said to miles. it’s not that i think she’s an ishvallan activist behind the scenes because of her lieutenant, but i think she knows the “war” was complete horseshit and fully respects his bitter feelings toward the amestrian government.

privately, though, i think olivier knows clearly that this country is messed up, before “the shape of this country.” but she has a very powerful family, and it’s hard to completely renounce that dedication. she still loves amestris a lot. she feels very protective of the people she’s defending, even if she doesn’t like them very much.

i respect that she swallows her pride, gives up briggs, and joins the political battle in central when it becomes clear that that’s the best way to get to the center of the matter. imo she and roy mustang teaming up, unnoticed, in the heart of the beast could have made an amazing combo, but ofc she’d never let that happen lmao. she is a good person without being a nice person. that’s refreshing. she’s ruthless, pragmatic, ambitious, angry, untrusting, and kind of an asshole, and yet you never doubt that she is, at heart, honorable and trustworthy. she will tell you what she thinks of you. she hates lying. but she will cave and do what the people of amestris needs her to do; we see she IS able to separate her government from her country. i think she always knew, but the events of the show are kind of her “put up or shut up” moment to stand up and show where her loyalties really are, and she delivered. she’d be offended if you ever even thought she might choose differently.

i love olivier a lot because she doesn’t have an arc in the traditional sense; her personality and position don’t change much from the time we meet her to the last time we see her. her biggest change is that she lets herself show pride in her brother, or maybe she’s able to admit that she’s proud of him in the first place. i think for her, that’s enough. i also really, really like that she’s not shown as someone who NEEDS to change. she’s allowed to be an angry, confident, strong woman in charge of a fort who likes things the way she likes them and expects you bend to her rules in her fort or you will leave. i think it’s a great accomplishment and testament to the writing and acting to show that she is not nice, and not always likable, but you never question she is a good person.

[writehardwhumpharder]

FMA fic - Appendicitis and Fever 7k+ words

Ed didn’t think much of it when he woke up with a slight stomach ache for the second day in a row. Between researching the stone and doing missions for Mustang, he was beyond stressed and wondered how something like this hadn’t come up sooner. Al, of course, was as lively as ever, not the least bit exhausted from their nonstop work. In fact, he only seemed to get more hopeful and determined with every hour they spent reading in the library. Edward couldn’t stand to let his brother down so he put a smile on his face and got dressed. They had an early train to catch but once they were on their way to the next town in their search, Ed could spend the four hour train ride taking it easy.

“Are you ready to go brother? I don’t want to miss the train!” Al called excitedly from outside Ed’s room. They had plenty of time to get to the station and they both knew it but Edward tried to mimic his brother’s enthusiasm, throwing his coat on even quicker, the budding pain in his stomach long forgotten.

“Yeah Al just let me grab my things,” Edward laughed, grabbing the small suitcase tucked away in the corner. They probably wouldn’t be gone long enough to need a change of clothes but you never know and Ed used the rest of the space in the suitcase for a couple books and some paper that he’d need to write his report for Mustang and any other important notes he had.

Ed reluctantly allowed his to brother carry his bag for him. If he was being completely honest with himself hauling the heavy bag was making his side ache a little bit. Despite not having a human face, Al’s expression seemed to brighten at the thought of being useful. His soulfire eyes glowed happily. Ed wished he felt that good. Unlike Al, the smile on his face was a carefully constructed mask made for the sake of his brother.

They walked to the station and boarded the train fifteen minutes before its scheduled departure. Al stowed the bag on the shelf above them and sat down. Ed sank heavily into the seat across from him.

“Are you okay, brother?” Al asked, picking up on Ed’s subtle discomfort.

“I’m fine. But I make it a point not to wake up before eight and today is no exception. I’m gonna take a nap, you won’t be too bored will you?” Ed asked as he settled across the bench. His small stature allowed him to lay down on the seat easily. They had gotten up earlier than usual that morning so Al thought nothing of it when Ed laid down and closed his eyes.

“Go ahead,” he said, turning to face out the window where the city would shift into rolling hills as they went by once the train got moving. After everyone else was settled on board, the train jolted to life sending a sharp but quick pain through Edward’s stomach. He contained the grimace before his face could react and immediately went back to resting. Maybe he ate something that didn’t agree with him. Again Edward dismissed the thought in favor of drifting back into a light sleep.

Al was perfectly content to look out the window as they passed some farms and smaller towns. The hills were dotted with sheep and cows and Al wished brother was awake so he could point them out to him. But Ed was still sleeping which was a little odd. It was nearly eleven and Ed never had any breakfast. Al decided he’d rather wake up his brother with some food and coffee to offer him, knowing how cranky he got when he was hungry, so he got up and headed to the car with food and drinks. He picked out a bagel that looked good and ordered a coffee, pouring in just a hint of milk and a lot of sugar, just they way his brother liked it. Solemnly, Al thought about how he couldn’t smell or taste the food he was holding as he made his way back to where Ed was sleeping. To his surprise Ed was awake and sitting up when he got back.

“I was just about to start looking for you,” Ed said, rubbing the sleep out of his eyes. Since Al himself wouldn’t need to leave to go to the bathroom or grab food he was surprised to wake up and see him gone.

“I just went to get you some breakfast, I figured you’d be hungry when you woke up,” Al said cheerfully, setting the bagel and coffee down in front of him. Ed was surprised to find that he actually wasn’t hungry but Al had gone through the trouble of getting it for him so he’d eat every last bite of it. He also knew that hungry or not his automail needed constant fuel to function properly.

“Thanks Al, this looks great,” he said taking a large bite from the bagel. It didn’t taste bad, but it didn’t taste good either. He wolfed down the food and coffee though like he always did, not wanting to worry Al. Which was stupid because there was nothing to worry about.

“Do you think we’ll find anything here?” Al asked suddenly. Edward drew his attention away from the window.

“I don’t think we’re going to pop in, grab the stone, then head back to Central but I’m sure we’ll find out something important that gets us a little closer to the stone,” Ed said with what he thought was a reasonable amount of hope. That was how these things usually went. They would go to a small town looking for the stone and inevitably find some kind of trouble. If there was anything the brothers could do for the people they would do it, using their alchemy to quickly fix things in desperate need of repair. And in the unlikeliest of places they found some important piece of information which took them right back to the library and Mustang’s office respectively.

Edward couldn’t be more relieved when the train finally rolled to a stop. He was starting to get motion sick. Al followed Ed off, carrying the suitcase with ease. Edward paused to take a deep breath, the air was just so refreshing and cold. It took some kind of weight off his shoulders.

“What is it?” Al asked.

“The weather is perfect today, being in the city makes me forget just how nice fresh air is,” Ed said. Al didn’t comment, he had nothing to say about the wind that he couldn’t feel. Ed’s heart sank, “Sorry…” he started.

“Don’t apologize,” Al said quickly, already knowing where his brother’s mind was going. There wasn’t a single day that Ed didn’t regret what he did, it should have been him. Al seemingly read his mind again, “If you were the one that lost your body, I wouldn’t have been able to bind your soul like you did for me, then I’d have to live without you. I wouldn’t want that. This way we can still be together, and we’ll both get our bodies back.” Al said.

Edward wondered just how his brother always managed to stay so positive. Maybe he was right, there was no use dwelling on it now. Why was he so emotional all of a sudden anyway?

Edward quickly shoved his feelings aside, mental and otherwise, and proceeded forward, “Come on, let’s go find this alchemist.”

***

The sun was now high in sky and the pleasant breeze hadn’t gone away but Ed felt like it was only getting warmer and warmer outside. He was glad that Al couldn’t feel things like temperature because he certainly would have questioned it when Ed was forced to take his coat off.

“Man, the sun really came out since we got here,” Ed commented casually as they walked through the small town. The cobblestone streets weren’t quite wide enough for cars so everyone walked to and from work. They were looking for a retired author whose notes on alchemy they had come across in the Central library. Thankfully they hadn’t come looking for a fight, the promise of information on the philosopher’s stone their only reason for the visit. Given the ever present cramp in Ed’s side which ached with every step he was glad he wouldn’t have to do any serious alchemy.

Ed pulled the scribbled note out of his jacket pocket and double checked the address. The house in front of them was looking a little worse for wear, not at all what they expected of a renowned scientist and author. Then again if he moved all the way out here he probably wasn’t trying to draw too much attention to himself. When they ran the idea past Colonel Bastard he said that the man had been very cooperative with the military in the past and probably didn’t pose a threat. Ed and Al were still a little on guard though as Ed approached the door, Al standing just a few steps behind him.

“Mr. Haruta?” Ed called as he knocked on the door. The door opened abruptly and Ed almost stumbled inside, finding a gun aimed right at his chest. Every muscle in his body froze up and he readied himself to jump out of the way. A startled looking man stared down at him behind a pair of glasses.

“Oh, I’m so sorry, no one has called me that name in a long time,” he sighed, lowering the gun, “You must be the Elric brothers, do come in.” he said politely as if he’d been expecting them.

Ed and Al exchanged looks, “How did you-“

“It’s my job to know these things, I may be retired but that doesn’t mean I don’t keep up with the news. What brings you here?” Mr. Haruta asked. Ed and Al stepped inside hesitantly, understanding that this may be a conversation he wouldn’t like to have on his porch in plain view.

“My brother and I have been reading some of your books on alchemy and have a few questions.” Ed explained with a smile. The older man gestured for them to sit down which Ed gladly did. Being off his feet did help a little with the growing pain in his stomach that sat like a ball of lead weighing him down. Despite his long nap this morning Ed was oddly exhausted. The couch dipped beside him as Al sat down.

“Which books would those be?” Mr. Haruta asked, sitting down in an armchair across from them.

“The fifth volume, specifically the part where you theorize about the making of a philosopher’s stone.” Ed said cautiously. Normally he wouldn’t lay it all out like that but he was hoping to catch the train back to Central later today and they didn’t have much time to waste if they were accomplish everything they came to do and avoid being stuck here an extra day. Mr. Haruta’s face hardened into an unreadable expression. Al felt his brother tense beside him, unsure of how the alchemist would react to that question.

“There is a reason those books are classified, they are dangerous and I will not discuss them,” He said strongly, keeping his voice from being too harsh. To be fair he’d been caught completely off guard by the question.

“Please sir, whether you help us or not we will find the philosopher’s stone,” Al interjected, his voice grew quiet, “we have to.”

Mr. Haruta shook his head uncertainly, “I am familiar with your… predicament. But I vowed never to pursue the stone again and I would advise you to do the same.” The way he said it the brothers knew that his decision was final. His face softened again, “since you’ve come all this way why don’t you stay for lunch and tea. I just made it before you arrived, should still be warm.” He said, getting up to grab the dishes from the kitchen. Since Ed was fairly certain that the man wouldn’t have had any time to poison the food he graciously accepted the offer, hoping the warm tea might ease some of the hollow ache spreading through him. He seemed like a nice man but Ed had met plenty of “nice” men before and he had to worry about these things. Mr. Haruta brought out a tea kettle and three cups as well a pot of stew. The meal had clearly been made for one but they managed to spread it between them. He poured three cups of tea and offered Ed a bowl for the stew, apparently planning on eating the meal in the living room rather than the formal dining room. Al picked up his cup of tea, unable to drink it, feel its warmth, or even smell its herbal aroma. He was grateful though that Mr. Haruta had bothered to give him any tea at all knowing he wasn’t able to drink it. It made him feel included. Ed ladled some stew into his bowl and stared at it curiously.

“Something wrong?” Mr. Haruta asked with a hint of concern. Ed started to answer him but he suddenly closed his mouth, setting the bowl down on the coffee table. He swallowed thickly and took a steadying breath before speaking.

“Actually, would you mind if I used your bathroom?” he asked, voice quivering slightly.

“Sure it’s right down that hall,” their host pointed. Ed wasted no time getting up from the couch practically running toward the bathroom, slamming the door shut behind him. It had come on so suddenly. The smell of the food was enough to make his stomach turn and he fell down next to the toilet, heaving up the bagel and coffee he’d had on the train. Al’s voice drifted in from outside the bathroom door.

“Brother?! Are you okay? I’m coming in.” He said. Ed quickly flushed the toilet. Though he knew Al couldn’t smell the vomit he was still embarrassed about him seeing him like this.

“Okay,” he grumbled, knowing Al would come in either way. He leaned his head on his arm which was draped over the edge of the toilet bowl. He felt miserable — sick, dizzy, achy, and suddenly way too hot. Al moved past him to the sink and wet a washcloth and wiped his mouth clean before refolding it to put on his forehead. Ed couldn’t have been more grateful and he took the cloth from his brother, holding it to his face himself. He could do that much.

“What’s wrong?” Al asked, trying and failing to hide how concerned he was for his brother.

“I don’t know, I just felt sick all of a sudden.” Ed explained, leaving out that he’d had a stomachache all day before it climaxed just now. “Let’s just go back to Central okay? Mr. Haruta won’t give us any information on the stone so we might as well go home and get some rest before I have to hand in my report.”

“We can’t travel with you feeling like this. I saw a nice inn in town by the train station, we can leave tomorrow morning if you’re feeling better.” Al said, grabbing his brother by the shoulders to help him to his feet. They still had plenty of time before the last train would leave so Ed didn’t see the harm in laying down for a couple hours. Maybe by then Al would calm down and agree to heading home. Mr. Haruta appeared at the end of the hall.

“Is everything okay?” He asked, seeing how pale Edward looked. He was pretty sure he knew what had happened but he didn’t want to pry.

“Yes everything is fine, Edward is just a little sick so we’re going to the hotel. Sorry to have bothered you.” Al said as they walked to the door.

“Wait. Hold on just a minute,” Mr. Haruta looked conflicted but he had made up his mind seeing how the brothers looked out for each other. He could make an exception for them. Finding a scrap of paper and a pen he wrote something down, thrusting it into Al’s metal hands hoping he wasn’t making a mistake that would get the two boys hurt. It didn’t seem like they could get more hurt than they already were.

“Take this before I change my mind. And good luck,” he said. Al thanked him and Edward managed to mumble a thank you as well, still looking pretty pale and shaky. After a few more steps Edward felt strong enough to walk on his own, sliding out of Al’s grip.

“I’m alright now Al, really, the smell of the stew was just a bit overwhelming and my stomach hurt-“ Ed started, only to be cut off.

“When did that start?” He asked, knowing Ed had a tendency to hide this sort of thing.

“What?” He asked innocently, hoping to just skip over it.

“You didn’t tell me your stomach hurt.” Al said, if he still had a human face Ed was sure his brows would be scrunched together, his eyes narrowing in suspicion.

“I didn’t mention it because it’s not a big deal.” Ed lied.

“You promise?” Al asked with the voice of a little brother much younger than he actually was. His heart panged at the thought of blatantly lying to him.

“I promise,” He said, flashing Al a little smile as if to prove how okay he was. Al wasn’t too sure he believed him but his brother had promised so he dropped it for now. They rounded the corner and approached the small inn framed under a cheerful yellow awning.

A woman behind the counter perked up at the sight of them, “can I help you boys?”

“Yes we’d like a room for the night, whatever is cheapest,” Ed said, leaning heavily on the counter. While he did have plenty of funds from being a state alchemist he didn’t intend on spending much time in the room.

“Very well, we have a room with a queen bed on the first floor, we also serve basic meals,” she said kindly.

“Perfect, we’ll take it,” Ed handed her the money and she led them down a short hallway to the room. After unlocking it for them she handed off the key and told them she would be available at the front desk if they needed anything. There was a phone out there they could use as well since there wasn’t one in each of the rooms.

Setting down Ed’s suitcase Al watched his brother take off his coat and jacket before laying face down on the bed. Al couldn’t help but notice his movements were a little stiff, but he chalked it up to not wanting to upset his stomach further. Al could hardly remember now what having a body felt like so it was hard for him to determine whether Ed was actually okay or not. He seemed to relax as he sank into the mattress.

“I’ll call the Colonel and tell him we’re coming back tomorrow morning,” Al said. Edward abruptly sat up, concealing a wince.

“Don’t call him, we can take the train out tonight, I’m fine, really.” Ed assured him. Al hesitated by the door but ultimately gave in to his brother and sat down on the chair in the corner of the room.

“Fine, but for now you should just get some more sleep.”

“Hey, what did Mr. Haruta give you?” Ed asked. Sleeping sounded pretty good to him right about then but if they had a lead, that was more important.

“It’s a list of books in the Central library, just the call numbers and a couple names. It’s nothing we can look into now so don’t worry about it.”

Ed groaned, he was probably right.

***

When Ed woke up again it was dark outside, Al still sat in the same spot as he did before but his suitcase was open and a few things having been unpacked.

“What time is it?” Ed demanded, “why didn’t you wake me?”

“You were sick, I thought it best just to let you sleep, there’s no rush to get back home,” Al said. The hell there wasn’t. The pain in Ed’s stomach only seemed to get worse and he desperately wanted to be back in his own bed, not some random hotel room in a different city. He wondered for a second if that was Al’s plan was all along, to let him sleep through the last departure back to Central. That was crazy though, he wouldn’t be that conniving.

“I could have slept on the train, Al. Now we’re stuck here until tomorrow,” Ed whined.

“Actually it’s about 1am now, the next train leaves in four hours so stop pouting.” Al said. Crap, had he really been sleeping that long? He vaguely remembered waking up a couple times, only to resign back to sleep when the pain in his side got to be too much. He wasn’t sure how he could possibly convince Al that he was fine after sleeping through the second half of the day but he really was feeling better.

Ed got up from the bed and walked around to the desk, snatching up the slip of paper Mr. Haruta gave them.

“You said there was nothing we could get started on. I see three names listed here we could start looking into,” Ed said walking over to the small stack of books resting next to his suitcase. One of them was a book checked out of the library dedicated solely to personnel records from the last two decades. If any of these people were alchemists or military he could find out and that would give them some idea as to where to start their next search. Ed dragged the chair  opposite Al out from under the desk and sat down, opening the book on military records. He scanned through the different sections and titles looking for the names. Ed was a little surprised to find that none of the people had been state alchemists but two of the names were listed in the book. The first was a women who served as a personal assistant to an alchemist ten years ago, the second was a scientist who had also served in the military four years ago. Once they got back to Central they could start looking for a connection between them.

Ed managed to stay awake until they had to get ready to head to the train station, he couldn’t fathom the idea of going back to sleep after wasting half the day before. As exhausted as he felt, he had to keep moving forward, for Al, but when he was about to stand up from his chair a flicker of doubt stopped him.

“Hey Al could you call ahead and let the bastard know I’ll report in around 9am but might be a few minutes late,” He said trying to get his brother’s back turned for a few moments so he could collect himself. Also it was better to just tell the guy that he might be late so the Colonel wouldn’t start getting irritated after only ten minutes of waiting. Once Al was out of the room Ed stood up, unsurprised when a wave of dizziness threatened to knock him back down. His blood roared in his ears and it took a minute to get his bearings. He managed to at least look steady on his feet as they checked out. The station was only a block away, Ed could manage walking for that long, couldn’t he?

He found himself shivering against the wind, the cold seemed to penetrate all the way down to his core. He wrapped his coat around himself tighter, but when that didn’t work Ed realized that nothing would because it wasn’t the weather that was messed up, it was him. Ed chanced a touch to his forehead when Al wasn’t looking, confirming that he likely had the beginnings of a fever. He’d almost gotten used to the steady throb in the right side of his stomach as well. Looking back, the fever must have been worse than he realized because the idea that something might actually be wrong didn’t even occur to him as the pain continued to worsen. If he had eaten anything since yesterday morning he was sure he would have thrown it up by now so he was glad that the biting hollowness in his stomach was worth it if it kept him from having to repeat yesterdays events.

Ed leaned his head against the cold window as he stared down at the blank page in front of him. He still needed to write his stupid report. He had gotten halfway through it when realized that he’d literally addressed it to Colonel Bastard. His brain was starting to feel like warm jello so rather than starting a fresh report like he should, Ed crossed out the name and rewrote Mustang above it. He didn’t bother to hide the mistake very well, and if he didn’t feel like his stomach might burst into flames at the action, he would have laughed at the subtle insult. Al glanced over at him often during the train ride. It was still terribly early in the morning though so both boys were happy to spend it in peaceful silence.

Edward tensed suddenly, grabbing his side under the table. Only one thought consumed his fevered mind at this point — he couldn’t let Al know. He had no idea why that was so important but he avoided showing any kind of vulnerability at all costs, even if he was just with his brother. The pain was starting to make him sweat so Ed got up to go to the bathroom to clean up a little.

“Where are you going?” Al asked, seeing his brother shift in discomfort as he got to his feet.

“Bathroom, be right back,” Ed said. Walking proved to be more of a challenge than it should have been and once he was in a different car from his brother he allowed his flesh hand to grip his stomach, curling in on himself in hopes that that would somehow help with the pain. Sweat beaded on his forehead and he got more nauseas with every second he was upright. Someone else reached the bathroom at the same time he did but they took one look at the ill boy and insisted he go first.

Ed gave a lazy nod of thanks and scrambled into the bathroom, bolting the door behind him. He used the rim of the sink to gently lower himself to the ground where he positioned his head over the toilet. There was nothing left in his stomach but his body insisted on purging it anyway. Ed dry-heaved until he thought he might actually start puking up his intestines. Every contraction of his stomach sent a wave of red hot pain through his body.

Once his body had finally given up on the futile act, Ed dabbed at the sweat gathering above his brow. He stood up carefully, being sure not to straighten up too quickly. Despite his efforts Ed was assaulted with dizziness as he lifted his head and he was back on the floor before he even knew what was happening. “Did I just pass out?” he wondered, looking up at the ceiling of the small bathroom. It could have only been a few seconds but Ed had the unmistakable feeling of waking up. Surprisingly, after having lost consciousness for a short second he didn’t feel nearly as dizzy as he did before. The fever ravaging his body was still there and the pain pulsed along like a second heartbeat but he didn’t feel like he was going to faint again so he slowly got back to his feet again, leaning on the sink for support. The mirror in front of him showed that he looked paler than usual, the thin sheen of sweat only making him look sicker. His eyes lacked their usual spark, seeming dull and glazed over. He didn’t care how bad he looked though, he was determined to deliver his report and go home without incident. Why, he didn’t know, since he did enjoy purposely frustrating the Colonel. Deep down he knew he was worried someone would send him to the hospital and his skin crawled at the thought of Al worrying about him more.

“I’d better get back,” Ed thought, realizing he had been staring at the mirror for who knows how long, he’d kind of spaced out and when his mind did come back to him he accidentally said his thoughts out loud. Al must be getting suspicious. He rubbed as much life back into his face as he could and pushed himself away from the sink, standing on his own for a second just to make sure that he could before walking back towards the car Al was waiting in. He nearly bumped into him as he slid the connecting door open.

“Oh, brother, I was just coming to check on you. What took you so long?” Al asked as he stepped aside so Ed could walk back to their sits.

“You can’t just ask people why they took a long time in the bathroom, Al,” he chided, trying to sound vaguely offended at the question.

“Right, sorry.”

Ed picked the report back up to continue where he left off but when his eyes scanned the page letters blurred together, the words swirling dizzyingly on the paper. He blinked a couple times and decided to just add a couple more sentences summarizing their findings, then he could put it away. Mustang was used to less than stellar reports from him. Ed let the ink dry before folding the paper and sticking it in his coat pocket. Why on earth was he still wearing it? It was like 100 degrees in there. Slipping out of his coat, Ed groaned when he accidentally twisted his torso the wrong way.

“Are you alright?” Al asked. Everyone else on the train still had their coats on and seemed just fine, Ed was sweating visibly through his shirt.

“Yeah fine,” Ed said, sounding a little distracted.

***

The rest of the ride back to Central was a blur. The brothers stepped off the train, Al still carrying Ed’s luggage. Normally he would have insisted on carrying it himself but he seemed tired so Al didn’t even give him the chance. Not that Ed even noticed. They were surprised when they saw a familiar black car idling by the curb. Hawkeye sat behind the wheel, Havoc was next to her in the passenger seat smoking a cigarette, blowing the smoke out the open window. The scent almost made Ed want to hurl again but he pushed the thought out of his mind and climbed into the backseat when Hawkeye told him to hop in. Apparently Roy wanted them all back at his office immediately. The only issue was that there simply wasn’t enough room in the back for both Ed and Al. Al noticed and casually said he was just going to go straight back to the dorms, getting the hint that they probably didn’t want him going with them. It was like that sometimes, with Ed being the state alchemist and all. Sometimes things were above his clearance or there just wasn’t a reason for him accompanying Edward. Ed watched him disappear in the direction of the dorms as the car pulled back onto the street.

He took a moment to thank the gods that Hawkeye was such a good driver. She avoided every pothole with ease and made smooth, gentle turns. He wasn’t sure he could have made it if it was Havoc driving instead who paid no mind to the bumps in the road and sometimes didn’t even slow down before veering onto another street.

“Could you stop smoking please?” Ed asked quietly. He hoped that they hadn’t picked up on the way he gripped his stomach that burned with pain, or the way he grew pale whenever the smoke drifted into the backseat. Asking Havoc to stop smoking was like asking a person to stop breathing but the man reluctantly put it out and put his cigarette case and lighter back in his pocket. The fact that Ed was just a kid, far too young to be smoking, especially when he obviously still had some growing to do, made him a little more compliant. Hawkeye eyed him in the rearview mirror.

“You don’t usually mind the smoke, something bothering you today?” She asked, taking in the circles under his eyes and the unusual paleness to his skin.

“No, just didn’t get much sleep, and besides, smoking is gross,” he deflected, which might be the most boldfaced lie he’d told all year. He slept over twelve hours yesterday if you combined each of his naps but Hawkeye didn’t know that and Al wasn’t there to contradict him. All he needed to do now was turn in his written report, he could probably get out of reciting it if he played his cards right. He had to wonder though why they had bothered to pick him up at the train station.

“So what’s going on? What’s so urgent that I couldn’t just walk like usual?” He asked, forcing more strength into his voice than he had.

“Big meeting, we can’t get into it now but he wants to brief us all on a new threat,” She said. Being Mustang’s assistant Ed had no doubt she knew exactly what was going on but it was apparently secret enough that they couldn’t talk about it until there were behind closed doors. Ed briefly considered telling them that he was sick at the thought of enduring a meeting on top of reporting in but he couldn’t bring himself to admit how much pain he was in. He also suspected his fever had gone up significantly since leaving the hotel, oh well, he could sleep when he got back to the dorms. He probably just caught some stupid stomach bug.

As they neared the building Ed started to panic as he realized he’d have to walk up all those steps. His legs felt weak, like they might not support him when he stood up. Edward was stubborn though, he’d make it through this meeting with sheer will power if he had to. He was the god damn Fullmetal A-

“Are you coming Fullmetal?” Hawkeye asked, holding the door open for him. He hadn’t even noticed that they had arrived.

“Yeah of course,” Ed said, hopping out of the car only to start swaying when his feet hit the ground. Hawkeye quickly grabbed his elbow to steady him. He looked much worse out in the sunlight where she could see the slight shine of sweat on his skin that came with the fever.

“Really, be honest, are you okay?” Her voice was stern yet caring.

“Yeah, I’m fine, I swear. It’s just this heat,” Ed said, shooting a glare at the looming sun.

“What heat?” She asked, really starting to get concerned. Shit, he had slipped and his mind was moving too slowly to come up with a realistic excuse for it.

“Oh nothing,” he smiled, jerking his arm out of her grasp. She followed him up the stairs, he still looked a little shaky but seemed okay. Maybe he really was just tired. Mustang had a tendency to overwork the boy, partly to keep him from getting into more trouble and partly to instill some level of military work ethic.

They made their way to Roy’s office where a few other military personnel were waiting including Hughes and people Ed didn’t recognize.

“Thank you for joining us Fullmetal, I hoped to address everyone at once but since you’re late as usual you missed most of the briefing.” Mustang said, leaning against his desk. Then he looked out at the officers sitting and standing near the two couches, “If you have no further questions you are dismissed.”

Everyone got up and filed out of his office. Havoc followed them out leaving only Mustang, Hawkeye, and Ed. The room somehow got more suffocating with just the three of them if that was even possible. Ed didn’t wait for permission to go sit down on one of the couches. The pain was getting to be too much to bear and he wasn’t sure how much longer he could hide it. Roy didn’t comment on Ed’s lack of manners. That was nothing new. He set down a folder on the coffee table for him to look at and started talking. Ed took the opportunity to reach one hand under his jacket while he was hunched over the file, pretending to read it. He caught bits and pieces of what Mustang was saying but it didn’t quite make it through his brain.

“..so make sure to be careful of that.” He said, walking around his desk to sit down. Hawkeye took up her position next to him.

“About what?” Ed asked, sounding genuinely confused.

“Have you been paying any attention at all? This is serious,” asked the Colonel, frustration evident in his voice. He sighed deeply, “Just bring it here,” he said, talking about his mission report.

“What? You mean… the file?” he said, looking at he pages in front of him. He gathered them up and made to stand but before he got that far sharp pain exploded from his right side at the movement and he gasped, falling back onto the sofa.

“Did you hit your head or something? I meant your mission report. Turn that in and you can go home and get some rest.” Mustang said as if it was painfully obvious, which it was to everyone but Ed.

“What report? Why are you yelling at me?” Ed said, cradling his head in one hand. His words slurred slightly and both Mustang and Hawkeye caught it, exchanging worried glances. At Roy’s nod Hawkeye approached Fullmetal.

He tensed suddenly, folding in on himself with his arms wrapped tightly around his middle, “Oh god…” he moaned in pain.

Riza crouched down in front of him, “What’s wrong?!” she asked looking him over for wounds. His face was scrunched up in pain now and his breathing became ragged. Hawkeye tried to move his hands away from his stomach so she could get a look at him but Ed only curled tighter. When she successfully forced him to straighten out a little he yelped loudly.

“Fuck, fuck it hurts.” Ed said through clenched teeth. She felt bad causing him more pain but they needed to figure out what was wrong so they could help him. She held the back of her hand up to his forehead, drawing it back quickly.

“Oh my god, he’s burning up. Roy, call a medic,” She said urgently. Mustang picked up the phone at his subordinate’s orders and started barking into it to whoever was on the other side.

The burning pain started to blur along with his vision and Ed pitched over sideways onto the couch when he got too dizzy to stay sitting. Riza muttered comforting words that he couldn’t quite understand. He started to go slack and she slapped at his face desperately, “You have to stay awake Fullmetal, medics are coming but you have to let us help you. Let me know if this hurts.” She knew the pain was coming from his stomach by the way he kept trying to curl into a ball with his arms covering it. In the brief moment that he was too out of it to stop her she pressed down and Ed jolted back to alertness screaming in a way that they had never heard from him before. When she removed her hand he only seemed to scream louder. His eyes rolled back, trying to escape into unconsciousness but Hawkeye wouldn’t let him.

“No I don’t know what’s wrong with him just send help and hurry,” Mustang slammed the phone down in frustration. The medics knew where to find them and he didn’t have any more answers so their questions so he hung up and ran to where his subordinate laid on the couch in utter agony.

“What’s going on?” He asked, a little out of breath.

Hawkeye’s face hardened, “I think its his appendix, he has a really high fever and the pain seems to be coming from the right side of his stomach. Roy brushed away some of the hair sticking to Ed’s forehead, getting a feel for his temperature. He too jerked his hand back as if afraid he was going to get burned.

“I’ll, I’ll get a cold cloth,” he stammered, completely out of his element.

“Don’t… don’t make me go…” Ed whined deliriously. Hawkeye’s heart broke at how young and fragile he looked in that moment, “don’t let them take me.”

“Shhh, calm down Ed we’re here to help you.” Ed blinked at her as if he didn’t recognize her face. She had no idea what he was talking about but she tried to comfort him anyway, “No one is taking you anywhere yet.”

Ed started to shake, his face grew even more pale, a deathly white compared to the rest of his flushed skin, “I don’t want to go to the hospital,” he cried hysterically. If it really was his appendix they would have no choice but to take him. He’d likely need surgery, and soon.

Mustang came back a moment later with a wet cloth that he laid on Ed’s burning forehead, he used it to dab at his face and neck too. They both cursed themselves for not noticing sooner. He must have been in terrible pain for a while now for it to be this bad.

Ed lurched, leaning over like he was going to throw up again but there was nothing left to throw up. His stomach convulsed sending a wave of pain worse than anything he’d ever felt through his body. His breath caught in his throat, unable to even get enough air in his lungs to scream in agony. His eyes grew vacant as he came close to blacking out from the pain.

“Stay with us, Fullmetal,” Roy ordered as he gripping the boy’s shoulder to keep his attention. To his surprise Ed snapped his eyes open again, fighting to obey the order. He stared at the two of them, you could see it in his face somehow that his mind wasn’t working right, that he was delirious from the fever.

“Where’s Al?” he whimpered, “he needs me.”

“Al is fine Ed, don’t worry about that,” Roy said, still dabbing at the kids neck. If he weren’t worried for his subordinate’s life he might have felt awkward about touching the kid’s face so tenderly, “you’re gonna be fine too,” he said, trying to be soothing. He turned to Hawkeye, “guide the medics in, they should be here any second.”

She got up and rushed out the door returning two minutes later with two medics and a gurney. Ed had deteriorated even more in those short minutes. Roy was glad no one was there to see the single tear that escaped his eye as fear started to take over. A woman shoved Roy aside, none too gently, to get immediate access to the patient. Ed was still conscious, barely, moaning in pain and staring off into space. The two medics got the gurney level with the couch and lifted him as gently as they could. Ed didn’t have the energy to scream but he did make some horrible strangled sound of pain. The woman shined a light in his eyes as the man raised the gurney and reached under Ed’s shirt to assess him.

“He’ll need to go straight into surgery. I think his appendix already burst.” The medics talked to each other as they wheeled him out at top speed, leaving Hawkeye and Mustang standing there speechless. Luckily the military hospital was connected to this building and they could get him into surgery in no time. They just had to hope that it was enough, knowing that if his appendix already ruptured it might be too late.

“Do you think he’s going to be okay?” Hawkeye asked quietly.

“He’s too stubborn to let his own organ kill him, I’m sure he’ll recover. After all he has been through worse,” Mustang said sadly, though with a little bit of parental pride. Ed was a strong kid, he was sure of that.

[fullmetalscullyy]

team mustang find out about roy and riza’s past

from Sonia Zini Rmida (ao3)

“There must be something between them though, right?” Havoc asked quietly, eyeing the Colonel and the Lieutenant who stood across the park from them.

“There must be,” Breda stressed. “They’re so close. There has to be a past.”

“I don’t know but I don’t really feel comfortable spying on them like this,” Fuery stated nervously.

“We’re not spying,” Havoc explained. “We’re… observing.”

“This is spying,” Falman insisted.

Havoc scoffed, turning to face his comrade. “Shh. We’re observing and taking note of their behaviour. This is a study. Not spying.”

“It’s spying,” Fuery agreed with Falman.

“Both of you shut it,” Havoc hushed. “You both want to know what the deal is with them as much as Breda and I do.”

“There are other ways to do it than this,” Fuery piped up.

“Let’s just ask them,” Falman offered as a solution.

“There’s no way that’s going to happen,” Breda scoffed.

“Yeah. They’re both so tight lipped they’re never going to tell us.”

“You never know, they might –”

“Shut up!” Havoc hissed, backing up further into the bushes. “They’re coming this way!”

The four of them backed up, letting the leaves cover their faces.

“… do that, Lieutenant?” they heard Mustang ask.

“Of course, sir. I’ll see to it right away.”

“Thank you. Sit with me for a minute?”

Fuery squeaked nervously because they were going to sit on the bench that was right in front of them. Breda turned and told him to be quiet rather hurriedly.

“It’s nice to take a break. Especially after this week.”

“Yes, sir. But, we did it.”

“We did. Another person helped,” he remarked. “Did you ever think it would take this long to actually start helping people?”

“We’ve been helping people in this position for years, sir,” Hawkeye told him as the rest of the gang shared a mildly confused look.

“Yeah, but not without an underlying motive in it. Or because we needed to do it in order to save face. It was nice to help someone off my own back.”

“You helped the Elric brothers off your own back,” Hawkeye reminded him.

“Only because recruiting Edward at such a young age would make me look better,” he scoffed. The team shared a sympathetic look. They were no stranger to Mustang’s plight.

“Regardless, you protected them and pushed them towards their goal. Alphonse wasn’t part of the military and you still helped him.”

“I guess,” Mustang agreed with a sigh.

“To answer you question,” Hawkeye stated after a pause. “No. When I joined, I wanted to do more. I didn’t expect to be shipped to Ishval at only eighteen.”

“And you have me to thank for that,” he grumbled.

“I made my own choice, sir,” she reminded him vehemently.

“Through my influence.”

Hawkeye sighed. Again, the team looked at one another, completely confused. They knew each other before Ishval? They were all under the impression they’d met in the war.

“Sir, how many times do I have to tell you? You left to join the military to help people and to use alchemy for good. I gave you my father’s alchemy with the wish that you could do it.” Havoc shot Breda a sharp look. Her father?

“What?” Fuery whispered. Breda motioned for him to be quiet again.

“I joined because my father died, and I had no way to support myself. I was alone and with no money.”

“Sorry about that,” Mustang mumbled sadly.

“It’s not your fault. I wouldn’t have expected you to remain by my side. You are your own person with your own dreams, and you had to follow them. I would feel eternally guilty if I did keep you by my side in that old dilapidated house.”

“They lived together?” Falman whispered.

“I wanted to though. You know that, right?” Mustang revealed. “If I could change one thing I would never have left and married you on the spot.”

“Married?” Breda muttered quietly, mouth falling slack in shock.

“That would have been selfish, sir,” she reminded him, voice soft, but amused.

“I know,” he sighed wistfully. “It still doesn’t mean it’s not the truth.”

“I know,” Hawkeye admitted quietly.

The two fell silent and the team waited with bated breath to see what else would be revealed to them.

“We each made out choices and now we have to live with the consequences,” Hawkeye stated.

“I know. Do you… feel like you made the right decision giving me your father’s research?”

“Roy –”

“Riza, please.”

“We’ve talked about this –”

“Answer it. Please?” he begged quietly.

“At first, no.” There was a heavy sigh from Mustang. Havoc swallowed, shooting the rest of them a nervous look. Now, listening in definitely felt like a bad idea. This was some touchy territory that they clearly weren’t meant to hear, but they were stuck. “When I arrived in Ishval and heard of the destruction I was angry. So angry. Then I was given the order to murder innocents. After we first met in the desert, I begun to realise what was going on. After I saw your face and how broken you were, I begun to realise that you were just as stuck as I was. And if you didn’t do what you were told, we would have been demoted and stuck in the same position as Armstrong, and you’d never be able to prevent another Ishval from happening again.

“There is no one else on this earth that I trust as much as you,” she revealed softly. Fuery poked his head up further, seeing Hawkeye reach over and grip Mustang’s hand tightly. He was sitting, shoulders hunched, and head bowed. “I trusted you to make the right decisions with it, for the greater good. Now, that’s what we’re working towards, and you gave me permission to keep you on track. You gave me control over my burden by giving me that right.” She moved closer to him on the bench, placing her arm around his shoulders. “That meant more to me than you could ever know.”

“Of course, I –” Mustang coughed, clearing his throat. “I still can’t believe he tattooed the array on your back.”

Each member of the team balked, horrified. Hawkeye’s father had tattooed his research on her? And Mustang had gained it from Hawkeye, he hadn’t discovered it himself?

Today was full of surprises.

“Neither can I, looking back, but he was an old man and he was desperate. We both were. He was paranoid and needed somewhere safe to store it and I craved his attention and affection.”

“It still didn’t make it right –”

“No,” Hawkeye readily admitted. “But I agreed to it. I shouldered it because I knew that ultimately, I would be giving it to you.” She chuckled quietly to herself. “I took it because it was the safest way. I guess his paranoia rubbed off on me.”

Mustang sighed, straightening his spine as Hawkeye rubbed his back in soothing circles.

“Come on, let’s get back to the office,” she urged softly. “Who knows what mischief the team have gotten up to in our absence?”

“I’m sorry, for everything I put you through,” he murmured.

“Roy,” Hawkeye stressed.

“Please, just let me say it,” he pleaded. “It would make me feel better if I did.”

“Okay,” she allowed. “I accept your apology. And you are forgiven. Wholeheartedly.”

“Thank you, Riza.”

What surprised them the most was Hawkeye leant her head against Mustang’s shoulder. He wrapped his arm around her, kissing the top of her head. Each member of the team’s mouth fell open in shock as they watched both heads lift and gaze at each other. They fell open even further when Mustang leaned forward, kissing Hawkeye on the lips.

In broad daylight.

In a public place.

In front of them.

Not that they were aware of that, of course.

“I love you,” he whispered. “You’re my strength and I don’t know what I would do without you.”

“You would be fine,” she smiled. “Nowhere near as successful,” she quipped with a grin. “But you would be okay.”

“No, I don’t think I would,” he assured her with a chuckle.

“Whatever you say, sir.” She stood, offering him his hand. “And I love you too. Thank you for helping me all those years ago. It meant so much, your friendship.”

He kissed her again and the two left the park walking side by side rather than Hawkeye walking one step behind him.

All the team could do was stare after them, too shocked after what they’d witnessed.

“Holy shit,” Havoc stated.

“I know,” Breda muttered in disbelief.

“Holy shit,” Havoc repeated.

“We’ve established that, Havoc,” Falman stated.

“Did you hear that?” Havoc exclaimed.

“I was standing right behind you,” Falman reminded him.

“They lived together when they were younger? That’s… Wow. I knew they had a history but that’s a lot,” Breda stated.

“It explained why they’re so close,” Fuery piped up.

“It really does,” Breda agreed.

When Havoc suggested this idea, he didn’t dream they would discover this gem of information. It did, however, allow them to understand the Colonel and the Lieutenant a little better.

“Well, at least now we have our answer about their history,” Falman stated matter-of-factly.

Breda laughed quietly. “That solves that mystery.”

“They really do love each other, huh?” Fuery looked around at the other members of the team, awaiting their reaction.

“They really do,” Havoc agreed, rubbing the back of his neck. “This… was a lot to take in.”

“I still don’t think we should have spied on them though,” Fuery repeated.

“Oh, enough with the worry, Fuery,” Havoc dismissed, taking a cigarette from behind his ear. “What are they going to do?”

“Wait… We’re supposed to be in the office right now,” Falman reminded them. “They’re going to get back before us and we’re going to have to explain where we were.”

Each of them froze, sharing a look. Then, as one, they burst into action, sprinting to the car in the opposite direction of the Colonel and the Lieutenant.

“Do you think they know we knew they were listening?” Hawkeye asked Mustang quietly as they walked slowly to the car.

Mustang chuckled, grasping her hand tightly in his. “No idea. But it saved us having that awkward conversation with them. Sorry it got a little heavy there. It wasn’t for their benefit, and I… I meant what I said.”

“I know you did,” Hawkeye assured him. “I’m surprised you went so deep with it.”

“In the moment it just happened,” he admitted. “Everything came rushing back and I couldn’t help myself. I… Thank you, for your never-ending support.” He squeezed her hand, turning his head to smile softly at her.

“Of course, sir. Anytime.”

[vivalaezra]

Character Interview :: Ezra Elric

► Name ➔ The dark knight blinks, confused to why a stranger joined him at his stable. “Pardon me.. What.. What is going on here?” He said as he looked around confused. “An.. Interview? Strange... No why are you writing strange? That;s not my name... it’s Ezra Elric and I have to say so far this is off to a bad start...”

► Are you single ➔ "No... yes? How does one answer that.. I’m not married and to my understanding if you aren’t married then you are single however I certainly have no desire to see anyone other then a particular Miqo and... You are literally writing everything I just said...” A confused look was offered.

► Are you happy ➔ "As a clam, I believe the expression goes... Do.. I not look happy? Why does everyone assume because you have long dark hair and red eyes, you can’t be happy.” He said as his arms crossed over his chest. 

► Are you angry? ➔ His eyes went wide with confusion. “Did we not just establish how happy I was... Am.. Still am... ”

► Are your parents still married ➔ “Why is this important? Fine fine.. If you must know, my father remarried after my mother passed.. But he himself has passed... So no.. Yes? I’m not sure how this works. Is he in the beyond with my mother, waiting for my step mother to arrive? I wonder how that will turn out... Again, you do not need to write everything I say!”

NINE FACTS

► Birth Place ➔ "Grand’ol Ishgard, during a time when religion was everything! Happy to see a new page has turned.. Slightly sad to admit I won’t be there to see what happens next.”

► Hair Color ➔ Ezra quirked his brow. “Locks as golden as the sun... No wait that is a lie.. My hair is as dark as knight.. Can you not see this?”

► Eye Color ➔ “Red, not natural, it’s due to frustration over this questions..... Did you just write subject is being difficult!?!”

► Birthday ➔ "23rd Sun of the 2nd Umbral Moon.”

► Mood ➔ Opened his mouth to talk but paused for lack of words. "Didn’t we.. Cover this?”

► Gender ➔ "Man...”

► Summer or winter ➔ "Have you ever endured a winter in Ishgard? Summer or Spring please. ”

► Morning or afternoon ➔ "Afternoon I suppose? Never really thought about it.”

EIGHT THINGS ABOUT YOUR LOVE LIFE

► Are you in love ➔ The question rocked his head back as he thought and a faint tinge of red befell his cheeks.”Getting there.”

► Do you believe in love at first sight ➔ "No but I do believe in hate at first sight... Like... When you see a morbol at a distance and know you are going to hate it...”

► Who ended your last relationship ➔ "Suppose this is a fair question. We agreed mutually we should move on... Very adult of us if I do say so myself.”

► Have you ever broken someone’s heart ➔ “If I have, I was not made aware... Asked me if I’ve broken someone’s bones and that, I can provide a number... Please erase subject likes to fight... What? I saw you jot that down just now... Please erase subject is scary... Heavens...”

► Are you afraid of commitments ➔ "No... I’ve stayed for this conversation, have I not?”

► Have you hugged someone within the last week? ➔ “Why yes I have.”

► Have you ever had a secret admirer ➔ "Yes I have.. I’m just going off the idea they were so secret at admiring, I have yet to catch them.”

► Have you ever broken your own heart? ➔ “Was this suppose to come off deeper then what it really was...? No I have not broken my own heart.”

SIX CHOICES

► Love or lust ➔  “Love.. Easy answer.”

► Lemonade or iced tea ➔ “Neither. Next question.”

► Cats or Dogs ➔  “Oh... Well.. Dogs... Cat’s... Both.. Though she doesn’t like cats... What nothing... Nothing. What are you writing.. A..u..l.. Hey how do you know her!?”

► A few best friends or many regular friends ➔ “Half and half? I’m allowed to land somewhere on the middle with this, no?”

► Wild night out or romantic night in ➔ “Romantic knight with a k... See what I did there? Is.. Terrible... At.. Jokes... Well you can just cross that line out...” 

► Day or night ➔ “Are we going around in circles?”

FIVE HAVE YOU EVER’S

► Been caught sneaking out ➔ “Out of a enemies camp after being taken captive... That was fun.”

► Fallen down/up the stairs ➔ “Down.. In a full suit of armor... You just ride the wave of pain and hope for the best.”

► Wanted something/someone so badly it hurt? ➔ “Butterflies in your stomach, a pang in your heart you cannot ignore... Sounds about right?”

► Wanted to disappear ➔ “No but I know someone who has wanted me to... Does that count?”

FOUR PREFERENCES

► Smile or eyes ➔ "Eyes... Big and beautiful... No lies can live there.”

► Shorter or Taller ➔ “Shorter... I’m fairly tall.. And taller ladies...Just not my cup of tea... Self.. conscious? Strike that out.. And that is a rude thing to write!”

► Intelligence or Attraction ➔ “Intelligence. Beauty can fade by a good conversation can stick with you...”

► Hook-up or Relationship ➔ “Relationship is what I choose... Nice to have someone to depend on...”

FAMILY

► Do you and your family get along ➔ "My brother and sister in law get along just dandy... Then there is this Keeper I butt heads with... Sorta realized he’s going to be in my life so might as well make the best of him though he annoys me to know end...”

► Would you say you have a “messed up life” ➔ “I would say I experienced life at it’s best and worse and have survived.”

► Have you ever ran away from home ➔ “Suppose you can say that is what I’m currently doing, being banished and all..”

► Have you ever gotten kicked out ➔ “Yes I have... Punishment for my deeds doing the Dragon Song War....”

FRIENDS

► Do you secretly hate one of your friends ➔ "Then they wouldn’t be a friend, now would they?”

► Do you consider all of your friends good friends ➔ “If I am calling you a friend, then yes...”

► Who is your best friend ➔ “Hard title to bestow upon someone... Honi and his sister Jhanna have become dear friends... But there is this one Miqo in particular, Aultena Sephimiri is something else....”

► Who knows everything about you ➔ “No one knows everything... But Aultena Sephimiri is quickly out pacing everyone else...” Tagged by @roleplay-aficionado as always, thank you for the fun times! Tagging  @vylette-elakha @sola-ffxiv and @ivyffxiv, my two usual victims up front annnnnd a random.  Also anyone else interested in doing this, just go on ahead!

[fictionstuff]

Fullmetal Alchemist

Plot: Edward Elric, a young, brilliant alchemist, has lost much in his twelve-year life: when he and his brother Alphonse try to resurrect their dead mother through the forbidden act of human transmutation, Edward loses his brother as well as two of his limbs. With his supreme alchemy skills, Edward binds Alphonse's soul to a large suit of armor. A year later, Edward, now promoted to the fullmetal alchemist of the state, embarks on a journey with his younger brother to obtain the Philosopher's Stone. The fabled mythical object is rumored to be capable of amplifying an alchemist's abilities by leaps and bounds, thus allowing them to override the fundamental law of alchemy: to gain something, an alchemist must sacrifice something of equal value. Edward hopes to draw into the military's resources to find the fabled stone and restore his and Alphonse's bodies to normal. However, the Elric brothers soon discover that there is more to the legendary stone than meets the eye, as they are led to the epicenter of a far darker battle than they could have ever imagined. [Written by MAL Rewrite]

Episodes: 51

Main Characters: Edward Elric Alphonse Elric Roy Mustang Scar

Points: 9.5/10

Firstly, I haven't seen the original anime and neither have I touched the manga, so I can say absolutely nothing about those. I only started FMA, because it got added to netflix and my friend recommended it to me, so we could watch it together and I think we finished those 51 episodes in less than a week. People mentioned that the anime is very close to the source material, so I haven't picked up the manga, because the anime itself is already awesome.

FMA features very quick pacing, it's literally overwhelming at first, especially if you binge watch it. It was nice to take breaks and to digest what happened in the last episodes. The story is absolutely original and refreshing; a world of alchemy, the art of equivalent exchange where two brothers are trying to resurrect a human, the one forbidden act of alchemy and so they receive “divine” punishment. The beginning was already quite tragic and sad, but I also cried at the end, because across these 51 episodes, you grow so much closer to the characters, especially the two brothers who are on their journey to seek the philosopher's stone, the object to overcome the law. Along this journey they find out so much more about their country, alchemy and the real story going on behind the scenes.

The animation is extremely stable and great to look at, the character designs are a+. The voice acting is great and the fighting scenes are splendidly animated, even the OST is a good match (although not spectacular in itself). The overall greatest selling point are definitely the characters (antagonists included) and their development throughout the very exciting and mysterious story.

The majority of the spotlight goes to the brothers, of course, but the whole cast is worth mentioning. Literally every character receives some backstory and development, cool fighting scenes and even the enemies receive lots of scenes which makes many of them very sympathetic even. I mean, I cried with Greed although I can't even explain why, but he has such a good story. FMA doesn't stop there and expands to other countries as well, which brings some depth to the story of a very militaristic country. Two main characters are Roy and Scar, who each have their arcs and amazing fights, their convictions could easily make them protagonists like the two brothers. None of the characters are boring, perhaps you could have even expanded on them more in little side stories, but the great thing about FMA is that there are no fillers, so I can't exactly complain.

FMA makes good use of explanations, nothing remains a question, each dialogue is very on point. It explores a multitude of feelings throughout the different characters, even through the antagonists who display the 7 deadly sins.

I am glad that FMA features a happy ending, a believable good ending. Sometimes FMA may perhaps be a bit too light-hearted for the dark tones of the story, because there are many darker themes which shouldn't be looked upon with such bright animation or funny dialogues, but that's not often the case and it's not much of an issue in my opinion, just something I have noticed. The new FMA also seems to be much more popular than the original, because it stuck to the source material and I can't stress how goddamn important it is. Tokyo Ghoul also went for something original and that destroyed the whole anime for me, because it's such a big no.

I've also thought of discussing the characters in depth, but the review itself is long enough, so I'll just say that each character is well build with convictions, goals, motivation, weaknesses and a unique design. I can see how much thought and love has been put into this department and hence I can only praise this anime.

[avatarmerida]

Newlyweds

Hey hey hey there @randomlyopeneddictionary I’m your @fmasecretsanta2018 You mentioned that EdWin is your OTP and truthfully I’ve never written anything focusing on them, but I gave it my best shot! Hope you like it and happy holidays fam!!

"Hurry up Al, we can’t be late!” hollered Ed as he quickly ran up the hill, nearly dropping the suitcase he carried.

“I’m trying brother!” responded Alphonse frantically. “But it’s so windy! I’m worried I’ll get blown away!”

“Try harder!” panted Ed, struggling to hide his own struggling. “I told Winry we’d be there by now and your detour made us late!”

“Don’t yell at me brother!” cried Alphonse. “I told you, I didn’t know that cat was pregnant!”

“Yeah, well I’m glad we got to find that out AFTER YOU LET HER SLEEP ON MY COAT!” exclaimed Ed, shuddering at the thought of the stains on his favorite jacket, tucked away in his suitcase.

“Oh, get over it!” scoffed Al. “Winry will understand if we’re an hour late, we had to take the later train!”

“Well, uh, we’re not an hour late,” muttered Edward.

“Yes we are,” said Al. “We were supposed to be here at 4, and it’s not even quite 5 yet.”

“Yeah, that’s true,” admitted Ed. “Except I didn’t tell Winry to be here at 4…”

“Why not?”

“She’s been working on that new series of auto-mail and you know how she get when she starts  working.” laughed Ed, nervously. “So I figured she’d leave late anyway, and if I told her an earlier time she’d get there on time…”

“Brother, when did you tell Winry to meet us?”

“10 AM!” exclaimed a very angry Winry as soon as she saw the Elric brothers enter.

“Hi Winry,” whispered Ed, avoiding the fire in her eyes.

“I woke up at 7am to catch the 8am train to ride 2 hours to get here the whole time worrying I’m going to be late!” she yelled. “And then when I get here I don;’ see you or Al so I figure okay they’re a little late, that's fine so I wait a few minutes and that turns into 7 HOURS!”

“We, uh, had to catch a later train?” tried Edward.

“Oh I bet!” screamed Winry, towering over the boy. “Because it turns out your reservation wasn’t even until 4! WHAT THE HELL, ED?”

“Winry I’m so sorry it’s all my fault!” wailed Alphonse to no avail.

“Oh no, don’t even try it Al; this has Ed written all over it!”

“Okay, okay I’m sorry!” exclaimed Edward, desperately. “Look, I’ll buy you a new wrench to say I’m sorry, okay?”

“Oh no,” began Winry, the fire in her eyes becoming more controlled but just as dangerous. “You’re going to buy me a new wrench and the new high end chrome bolts and you’ll pay to have a new sign commissioned for the shop!”

“What? Are you crazy, do you know how many cens that’ll cost?!” “Couple thousand for every hour I had to wait, seems fair.”

“WHAT? I-.”

“Brother, we both know you’re going to do it so can we just check in already?” pleaded Alphonse. “I can’t take anymore of this bickering!”      

“Fine,” grumbled Ed as Winry’s face became bright and smug and the trio made their way over to the main desk.

“How may I help you?” Greeted the round faced lady sitting behind the desk with a large smile.

“We’re the Elrics, the city officials set aside some rooms for us?” Said Ed.

“Yes of course,” said the woman, looking over the paper in front of her, and then looked up and noticed Winry. “And who is this?”

“Oh, this is my mechanic, Winry. She’ll be staying with us.”

“Oh, I’m afraid that’s not possible,” replied the concierge. “The council has very specific rules when requesting alchemists, all housing funds and reimbursements can be used on hired alchemists and immediate family only.”

“That’s fine, we’ll just get her another room.”

“We’re all booked up I’m afraid.”

“What?” Exclaimed Ed. “Come on, she’s-.”

“Oh Ed, you’re so silly,” interrupted a Winry sweetly, taking him by the arm. “It’s still so new, you keep forgetting. Yes I’m his mechanic but I’m also his wife.”

“Huh?” gasped Ed nervously.

“Yes, I’m his wife,” continued Winry with an upbeat smile. “We’re newlyweds see, so I’m also entitled to the free and luxurious hotel room.”

“And I was the best man!” chimed in Al, mostly for his own satisfaction.

“Uh, yeah,” said Ed, seeing her point. “We’re married so let’s get out of here and go up to the room.”

“Goodness me is this your honeymoon?” the concierge squealed.

“Uh yeah, I guess,” muttered Ed, looking towards the ceiling his face becoming as red as his jacket.

“Oh how sweet,” the woman continued. “Ya  know, how about I upgrade you to the honeymoon suite? We don’t get alot of newlyweds down here, so it’s hardly ever used. “

“No, that’s fine,” said Ed quickly becoming even more flustered, much to Winry’s delight.

“Oh I insist!”

“Why thank you so much!” smiled Winry, resting her head on Ed’s shoulder. “I can’t imagine anything more romantic! Isn’t that right Eddy bear?” Ed didn’t respond, feeling Winry’s teasing eyes on him as well as the smugness Al was sending him sensing his obvious discomfort.  

“Oh yeah, they’re super in love,” offered Al. “I always feel like such a third wheel.”

“Not helping Al,” whispered his brother, angrily.

“They’re always holding hands and laughing…”

“Oh yeah, that’s us!” giggled Winry, her thoughts consumed with getting to the comfy bed awaiting her and a long, hot bath.

“...and kissing.” finished Al, his voice full of deviance.

Both Winry and Ed’s eyes widened in shock as they caught onto what Al was doing. Winry loosened her grip on Ed as her face turned a shade similar to his and her fake husband began to laugh loudly and nervously.

“Yeah okay we really should be headed up now,” said Ed. “So much to do, getting started with our research, plus I need my leg adjusted, hehe... Actinium, Aluminium, Americium. Antimony...”

“Oh yes, why don’t you give her a kiss before you head on up?” sang the woman. “It truly warms my heart seeing two young lovers staring their lives together.”

“Oh, you know it’s been a long day...” rambled WInry.

“My breath smells really bad...” added Ed.

“We’re not much for public displays of affection...”

“Her breath smells really bad...”

“Oh hush, you two are obviously so in love I bet you’re dying to do it!” she insisted. 

“Yeah, go ahead you two,” teased Alphonse. “I mean, what married couple finds it odd to kiss right after their wedding? I mean, it would seem extremely suspicious and could jeopardize the nice room this marriage allowed you to have...”

“We get it Al,” said Ed through clenched teeth, then turned his attention to Winry whose smile had went from bubbly to distressed. He bit his lip, knowing the hole they had so quickly dug for themselves was not getting any better with time. Knowing that overthinking it would only drag on this situation and there was no going back. So he he summoned any pride he had left and shoved it aside as he lunged forward and quickly touch Winry’s lips with his.

The contact was light and barely lasted two seconds but it was enough to send to two friends into a tizzy. Winry’s hand quickly covered her mouth as she began to sputter and she couldn’t think of much else to do but walk towards the stairs. She stared at the floor as she whispered things to herself that neither Ed nor Al could hear.

Ed stood in his place, equally flustered as the delighted lady handed him the room keys.

“Oh, you to are just so cute!” she sighed. “Don’t hesitate to let us know if you need anything at all. Enjoy your stay!” 

Ed just nodded and slowly followed Winry to the stairs, his brother following behind practically having to push him. 

“Oh we will,” responded Al, enjoying every second of the awkwardness. “I get to have my own room.

[bleedingcoffee42]

Eureka AU- Part 10

20k words was a gross underestimation.  Maybe this ‘pilot episode’ will be wrapped up in 30k-40k but fuck me for already thinking about making more episodes in this AU and making it a series.   Cause I have that time.   But the ‘working together as well as married Royai AU’ element is not getting used enough in this fic and that would be a shame to not work with that more.  

Click the Eureka AU tag to see prev parts of this serial flash fic.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxx

While Mustang and Edward where taking what they needed from Comanche's lab, Marcoh went over to have a conversation with Alphonse about the concerns he had with the chelation process.   He had caught a few glances from Dr. Knox that said 'You better bring this up before I do' and he appreciated the good doctor allowing him to have the floor to discuss the matter.   He was a little apprehensive about disturbing Al as he was controlling the nanites within Hawkeye manually.   “Can we talk without it disrupting what you're doing?

“This?”  Al said cheerily.  “Oh this is actually easy for me.   Ever since that little accident a few months ago where I had to transfer my consciousness to the bots to become a suit of armor because my body was in another dimension, I really fell like they're a part of me.  Controlling them is second nature at this point.”

Marcoh had just assumed the kid was really into cosplay or prepping for a renaissance festival during that week he was walking around like a knight.   There was a lot that happened in these halls that nobody really wanted to question.  “If you can make them anything you want, why did you pick that?”

“Well, our Dad used to collect vintage armor when we were kids and had them lining the walls of his study.  That's where Ed and I taught ourselves science.  That's also where Mom would bring us cookies and tell us how proud she was of us and since we were trying to bring her back I was thinking of those days.  She always smiled the most when we were in there.  That's how I remembered her.  So when I was being deconstructed and I quickly transferred myself to the nanites, I was already thinking about that time and place.  It was the first thing I thought of.”  Al smiled and then got more serious.  “Plus I had to be taller than my brother and that was the biggest human size specimen I had ever seen.”

“If these nanites are a part of you.” Knox finally interjected himself into the conversation.  He was blunt and that was what was needed or Marcoh was going to bring out the tea and cookies and start chatting about something else.   “What's going to happen when we neutralize them with the chelation process?”

“They're not fragile, they'll just go offline until I can set them in repair mode once they are back in their tank.  The chealors will bind to specific metals they are constructed of and disassemble them, they'll be partially broken down but nothing they can't fix themselves.  If anything they'll come out of this stronger and with more experience than before.”   Al said confidently.   “So Dr. Knox, please place a catheter and collection bag if you have not already.”

“Not without Mustang's approval.” Knox said and sat down next to his patient.   “First why don't you start by explain to me how you're going to avoid causing renal failure?”

“We're using a biological so that it will take time and collect the metals and deposit them in the kidneys so they can be processed like any other waste.”   Al said.   “I could program the nanites to do this themselves on a metered basis, but I would have something far more complex than the kidney's are prepared to hand.  That's why we're going with chelation because it will transfer control of the process back to a biological competent instead of a mechanical.   Nature can work in ways that mental I can't anticipate. “

“The chelators will bind to and break down the metals in the nanites themselves.”  Marcoh reiterated.  

“I get all that.”  Knox said dryly. “What about the virus?   The chelation process is going to destroy the carrier for the virus that we're counting on carrying it out of her system.  Removing it from the blood stream is only a first step, depositing an active virus in the excretory system is worse.”

“My nanites have mapped the strain we're dealing with.    We need an anti-viral to target them.”  Al replied.

“There we go.”  Knox opened his hands as they came back around to the missed step.  

“Oh, yeah.”  Al said and bit his lip.   “I guess we didn't talk about that.  I just assumed Dr. Marcoh was waiting on me to get him the profile of what we're dealing with so he could make something.”

“I was.”  Marcoh shrugged.  He had just assumed this was the route and he watched Knox mumble about 'fucking researcher' and 'I don't read minds'.   “I'm sorry Doctor.  We're used to working on our own and even in collaborations we leave each other to work on our respected specialties.   I don't think any of us would work with someone without knowing something about what that person could bring to the collaboration and respecting their ability to contribute to the process.”

“Right.”  Knox nodded.   “I'll sit over here and commiserate with my patient who has to deal with the repercussions of that way of thinking in her job and life every damned day.”

“I guess...” Al thought about it. Knox was just an ordinary doctor, even if he was exemplary.  He treated patients using the tests and technology they produced but he was an end game user.  “We should be better about explaining things but it's just not how we operate.”

“We honestly wouldn't work well together if we told each other what to do.   It usually devolves into a lot of yelling and not much progress.”  Marcoh mumbled.  “No offense, doctor.”

“None taken.”  Knox said.  “Just looking out for my patient.”

“I'll get to work.”  Marcoh said.   “I'll go to my lab.  Call me if you need anything.”

As Marcoh left, Ed and Roy returned.   Roy saw Marcoh was engrossed in his tablet and on a mission so he asked Al, “Is he off to make the anti-viral?”

“Yes.”  Al said sheepishly and Knox mumbled so more.  “Can I get your permission to have a collection bag placed?”

“I thought you would have done it already.”   Roy replied and Knox threw his hands up, cursed a little  and got up to leave.   He wasn't sure why he was upset but was pretty sure it had to do with being around scientist who liked to assume a lot of things and did not waste time explaining anything unless they wanted money or supplies.   “Did you check to see if there was any blood in the blood bank from Riza?  I know she donated a lot and we have at least one bag in storage from her annual physical which is required.”

“Nothing fresh.”   Knox said. “It's been a busy few months around here and you can understand why she only donates when there is downtime.”

“I do understand that completely.” Roy nodded.  42 days was still the standard for keeping fresh blood refrigerated.  They hadn't pushed those limits yet.

“We should have something frozen but I didn't want to pull that out in case we needed it.”  Knox replied.  “We have plenty fresh in her blood type.”

“Our storage facility is state of the art.”  Roy assured him.  “Dr. McDougal's advancements in freezing technology mean we can store frozen plasma way long that the conventional year.  In case you have your concerns.”

“Yeah, so I'm told.”  Knox replied.  “Thankfully I haven't had an occasion to need it since I've worked here.   One nice thing about dealing with scientists instead of soldiers.”

Al frowned and the doctor got up to leave and collect his necessary supplies.   Mustang looked over at him for an explanation and he quietly said, “I guess the whole anti-viral step wasn't obvious to everyone.”

“It was obvious, you doing something about it was not.”  Knox snapped right before he left and tried to slam the door.

“Sorry.”  Al called out after him.

“We're all a little stressed.”  Roy admitted.   Then he went back over to Riza and sat down.   He rubbed his eyes and leaned back in the chair.  “Once Marcoh makes the anti-viral we'll proceed with the chelation.   We'll have to give the anti-viral time to work, but if he's making it it should be extremely efficient.  He already knows the Xerxes virus since he made it, it's familiar territory and the hold up will just be the equipment producing what he needs.     Time will also give Riza a chance to take her body back from all this and once Knox gets back I think plasma will help.   Al, how are you doing?”

“I can keep this up all night.”  He assured him.

Roy reached over and took Riza's hand again, weaving his fingers between hers and gently squeezing.   “Ed, now that we have a profile of this pathogen we're dealing with, see if you can't do some digging and find out who made it.”

“I should be able to narrow it down by finding out who got an extra dose of Marcoh's Xerxes Vaccine.” Ed said and slid his laptop over.  “We are pretty good at monitoring who we distribute our products to, even if the government isn't.  Did you want to give me your access to....”

“No.”  Roy said and flashed a smile at him.  Give Edward Elric his password to gain complete access to everything this facility had on it's servers?   Ha!   “I'll send you the invoices. “

“We could just ask Dr. Marcoh.”  Al said.  “He'll know how many he made.”

“I think the good doctor feels bad enough about how this all turned out, let's not compounded it unless we have to.”  Roy said and took his phone out and opened up the app he used to keep track of billing.   He did a quick search and found the invoice in question and forwarded it to Ed.   “Knox pulled the records from her unit, did he leave those notes here?”

“Yeah, it's in the file.”  Ed gave an embarrassed grin.  “'Cause someone likes to share information, unlike us.”

“Occupational hazard.”  Roy said.   “He's over it, he just wants to make sure it doesn't keep happening.   We have to make sure we include him even though I know you all think he's just a doctor.”

Al sighed.  The superiority complexes and egos did get out of hand here where almost everyone could brag on multiple doctorates, and too often did.   Mustang and Ed were no exception and Al thought he was above that but he had been the one to offend Knox.   “It's not like a medical doctor is a lesser field of study or occupation.  We do respect him a lot.”

Roy knew that Knox was on edge, not just because of his patient, but because his own history as an army doctor had put him in the position to do some ethically questionable things while under orders.  This, the way they were approaching Riza's treatment, felt more like experimenting on a patient than saving her.   Roy knew that Knox would never say anything, he knew that wasn't the case, but he could see it in the Doctor's eyes when they bounced from solution to solution.    He understood for sure that there was no time to test, just react, but it didn't mean it felt right to him.   Both Knox and Riza were the same in that respect, they trusted instinct because their job was rooted in practice.   Roy and the other scientist saw practice as a sign of complacency, if something was already established it was meant to be reconstructed in some way to make it better.   There was no settling for how things were, it was always a process of moving forward especially because the results were uncertain. Science was about knowledge and pursing a greater truth, bending the rules of nature and shattering the standard practices because they had been established by scientists before them who failed to push boundaries any further than that.   Roy squeezed Riza's hand again, it drove her crazy that he would rush into the unknown with a grin on his face when she wanted to default to reconnaissance and defense until it was safe to proceed.  

“The order for the Xerxes vaccination was originally for a dozen doses.”  Ed reported.   “However Marcoh demanded blood samples from the Army so he could test the vaccine while also regulating how much he was sending out.    So each vaccine he made was labeled for a specific person to avoid a surplus. Comparing to the records Knox got from his Medical Corps contacts, there is an extra dose intended for a Private Mobuta Mobuo who was not in that unit.”

“Did you say Mobuta Mobuo?”  Knox asked as he returned with supplies.  

“Do you know him?”  Ed asked.

“Yeah, I made him up.”  Knox said and shook his head and walked over to his table to set his box down. He turned to see three surprised scientist and wished he could be satisfied with being the one to cause that reaction, but his own heart was pounding as a name from his past came back to haunt him.  

“I got the idea from an episode of M*A*S*H where they made up an officer in order to give his pay to an orphanage.   I created a fictional soldier who 'used' up a lot of supplies during my attempts to save him from injuries, which I instead sent to a pair of doctors who were treating patients from both sides in the war.   I had to 'kill' him in action in order to avoid having him promoted and given a medal of honor for as many times as I reported him being my 'patient'.”

“Dr. Knox, “  Al said with a hush whisper of awe.  “That's amazing.”

“Yeah, well someone brought him back from the dead and that's not a coincidence.”  Knox tried not to loose his cool but he was worried.   Not about himself, but because this was a sign someone was trying to eliminate a lot of loose ends.

“Don't worry Knox, apparently that happens a lot around here.”  Roy said and leaned back in his chair.    So this was as well orchestrated move on raven's part.    Knox would have done the autopsy if they didn't step in and save Riza from certain death.    Knox would be thorough, use all the resources available to him, and would eventually find traces of the Xerxes virus.    Then it would all play out like a scripted murder mystery: Eyes would turn to Marcoh for creating it, Roy would defend him and pull the invoice and they would be at this stage right now, asking who the hell Mobuta Mobuo was and why he wasn't real.   Blame would shift to Knox who created the fake personnel file and by the end of the day he would be in handcuffs heading to a military camp to await trail.    

“I got those doctors killed.”  Knox said and the three of them once again looked at him shocked.   He leaned on his patient's bed to support himself as the guilt of actions long ago ripped his heart out.   “The Rockbells.  They were good people.   They volunteered their services to a humanitarian medical organization that treated patients no matter who they were.   The army saw them as problem, putting enemy soldiers back on the front and replenishing numbers, so they would confiscate their supplies as contraband and try to dry up their resources.  They were heroes, real doctors without allegiance to anyone but patients, and when they were killed....I suspected it a bit too convenient of an ambush to be coincidence.”

Ed watched the doctor slump over further, weighted down by the guilt.   “That was not your fault!”

“I helped provide a trail of stolen supplies to their camp.”  Knox said.   “I gave them a reason to write off a murder as a 'tactical move'.”

“No.”  Roy said with a flat monotone that said there was absolutely no doubt in what he was saying.  “Raven bought himself a promotion in blood from that campaign.   His corruption runs deep and now he's trying to erase the evidence.   You and Hawkeye are both loved and respected soldiers, exiling both of you here was the only way he could ensure nobody asked questions about your disappearance from the ranks.   Being off the radar for so long, you've both lost contact with your original units and life has moved on.”

“Yeah, I don't have to have the obvious explained to me now, Mustang.”   Knox looked up at him.   “These eyes have seen a lot and I know a set up when I see it.  I also know I wasn't going to be seeing a trial.”  

“We can't let him get away with any of this Mustang!”  Ed said and slammed his fist into the table.   “This son of a bitch is losing sleep tonight because he's excited he's going to get this gift wrapped and delivered  to him like a present tomorrow.”

“He's underestimated us.”  Roy said and looked at Riza.   “So let's get back to work saving our Sheriff so she can have the pleasure of arresting him tomorrow.”

[the-bulletproof-heart]

Well, I binge watched the original FMA series quicker than I expected, and finally finished out with Conqueror of Shamballa tonight. Holy shit, what a good show. I can’t believe I waited so long to watch it. I’m going to try Brotherhood next, though at this point it will be tough for anything to surpass the original series for me.

In the meantime, some assorted thoughts on CoS because I have no one to talk to about this and must shout it into the void:

-Anime Hitler????? -No, seriously, hitler is in this movie -The World War II stuff actually ties in really well with the series’s anti-fascist themes -It’s interesting to see how Ed has changed. He seems a little less selfish here. Not that he was ever a selfish person, exactly, but he’s a bit more engaged in doing what is best for the world overall instead of only what is best for those closest to him. I think, given the way the series progressed, this is a logical point to take his character to. -Al’s changed a lot too in an interesting way. Aside from being spectacularly badass as an alchemist, he seems to have become somewhat more selfish than he was in the series, risking the safety of the whole world just to bring his brother back. This character choice really works. Not only does it provide some interesting contrast with the way Ed has developed, but it kind of makes sense given all that the two have gone through and the fact that Al has been left alone for several years. -I’m just going to be totally candid here, I really hated Mustang in the series. Like, I think he’s a great and complex character, but just as a person, I couldn’t stand him. However, I think in the movie he finally won me over. It’s nice to see him show some more serious remorse for his actions and by the end I feel like I understand him a bit better. -Seeing the alternate Hughes in what was basically a villain role was kind of a shock to me, but I actually really like that choice. It would have been easy to put someone like Mustang in that role instead, but having it be Hughes ties in with moral complexity of the series. It just goes to show that he could have turned out very different given the circumstances surrounding him. -The Elric brothers kick a bunch of Nazi’s asses and it brings me joy. -This movie was surprisingly progressive in how it handled its Roma characters??! Like, they actually stopped the movie and allowed time for Noah to explain the difference between the terms Gypsy and Roma and why they call themselves Roma. I think this is the first time I have actually seen that discussed in a movie. -I feel really bad for Winry and a part of me wishes that she had gone with Ed and Al at the end. Like, I know she’ll be fine because she has other friends and family back home, but they are basically brothers to her and it just feels so sad for them to leave her behind. -On a happier note, Al hiding inside of the armor at the end was the cutest thing I have ever seen. -Also, I do not understand the aging in this movie? So Ed is stated to be 18, but because Al’s restored body was 10/11 when he got it back, does that mean he is around 14 now even though he should be 17? He looks way older but he still sounds super young, so I’m a bit confused about that. -My inner film nerd was thrilled that Fritz Lang was in this movie. I love Fritz Lang! -I just love this series/movie so much and it makes me really happy and even though I know it will probably never be revisited (especially because everyone else seems to like the manga/Brotherhood better) I would love to see some sort of continuation with the older Elric brothers experiencing history from our world, like World War II. There are so many possibilities!