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disbehavior · 2 years ago

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@raijuto reached out to me as the requestor of Alphonse and his s/o’s first time ask, so here it is! Minors Do Not Interact. Note: this is years after the timeskip. He’s an adult like he was at the end of the series.

Warnings: protected sex, non-synchronized orgasms(but they’re pretty close), first times, fingering, stroking, technically Al doesn’t need to be aged up bc he’s an adult at the very end of the series but some ppl might forget or still feel anxious so I’ll note “aged-up” here, too.

Sorry for the long wait! My life kind of fell apart and all my muses escaped! But they are back, now. This is about half proofread so I’m sorry if any typos got through!

Wordcount: ~1.9k

😖😳First Time with Alphonse Elric😳😖

Your eyes drift down the train track as you stand at the Resembool train station. Though you know that Alphonse would be returning on the last train after the sun set, you were so eager to welcome him back that you couldn’t wait at the house. So now here you are, standing on the platform as the sky dims over the rolling countryside.

Your spirits lift when you see the train in the distance. It’s only a spot of light at first, but it rumbles near, mechanisms hissing as it slows. You scan the windows. In the nearly empty train, it’s easy to find Al’s smiling face. When your eyes meet, he smiles brighter. Grabbing his suitcase, he starts to rise, only to stumble a bit when the train jerks to a full stop. It doesn’t shake his smile, and he hurries off. You throw your arms around him as soon as his feet hit the platform. After a few months away, studying and writing to each other, it’s such a relief to have him in your arms again. “Welcome home!”

He laughs and squeezes you tight before planting a quick kiss on your lips. “I missed you!”

“I missed you, too,” you burble. You grasp his hand when he releases you, and you head back toward the house. “Ed and Winry are out in Rush Valley with the kids, but they’ll be back tomorrow. How was your trip?”

“It was really good. I have so much to talk about,” he said. “But I should wait until everyone gets back. I can’t wait to have everyone together again.” He stifles a yawn.

“Yeah... but it will be nice to have some time alone.”

He smiles and nods. After a moment of considering that, he raises a brow. “All alone... That sounds like fun.” His sleepy smile turns mischievous.

Your cheeks color. That was on your mind; you two had been dating for a while, but time had never allowed you to take things to the next step. You reach the steps of the house. It’s too late for dinner and, unless you decide to just go straight to bed, nothing is stopping you.

You’re both aware of that, so there’s a small bit of awkward silence as you both stroll inside and Alphonse unpacks. He’s about finished when you stroll up behind in wrap your arms around his chest. “Al, do you want to...”

He puts his hands over yours. “Do I want to what?” You can’t tell if he’s teasing or if he’s uncertain.

Your face feels hot and you fidget your fingers. “You know... sleep together.”

He squeezes your hand. Laughing sheepishly, he says, “You know, I’ve tried to think of how to set up a romantic night with you lots of times, but I think simple is good. If we both want to, we should.”

“Then?” You take a step back as he turns around to look at you.

“Then let’s do it!”

Your heart flutters in your chest. “Okay, give me just a minute.” You hurry into the bathroom and look yourself over quickly. You take a minute to splash some water in your face, and talk yourself up. You really asked him! And he said yes! After taking some time to compose yourself, you decide to strip down to your underwear. They’re not lingerie or anything like that, but they’re cute. Fitting for a first time, you think. You slip open the drawer and take out a condom; you’ve been prepared for a while. When you’re done, you step out, closing the door quietly behind you.

He’s sitting on the bed, rubbing the pink out of his cheeks. But seeing you makes them turn red all over again. “Y/n, you look great.”

You link your hands behind your back. “Thank you.”

He starts to stand, but you tiptoe forward to sit on his lap. His smile looks a little goofy as he settled his hands on your waist. “Let’s not go too fast.”

You nod.

He meant it when he suggested starting slow, and he doesn't so much as slip you tongue. Instead, he pulls you close, his lips press softly against yours. His kiss melts you from the inside out. You can't help but lean into him. Your chest presses against his, and he makes a small sound against your lips before breaking away. His cheeks glow. You're on top of him now, his back to the bed, and he looks at you with wide, bewildered eyes and red cheeks.

"S-sorry!" You peep, starting to jump off of him.

But he catches you, resting a hand on the small of your back. The other covers his smile, and his eyes dart away. "No, it's okay. If you're that excited... That's- that's really cute!"

In relief, you peck him on the cheek. "Thank you..." You gently touch your forehead to his. "Um, Al?"

He blinks up at you. "Yeah?"

"I love you."

His grip tightens on you a bit, and his eyes crinkles with a smile. "I love you, too, y/n." He kisses you, and you deepen it. You roll your hips against his. Just like before, he makes a tiny noise. You know he's blushing, but he doesn't pull away. He rests a hand on the side of your head and massages your scalp. His tongue slips past your lips, much to your surprise. Maybe he's abandoned taking it slow altogether. You unbutton his shirt, and he matches your energy. Your lips part as he pulls it off over his head. When his mouth lands back on your skin, it’s a kiss to your shoulder, trailing gently in toward your neck.

As he does, he fumbles a bit with your underwear. You help him remove it, giggling sheepishly. You both help one another shed your clothes slowly. The way his finger trail warmly contrasts with the air cooling your bared skin. “Wow,” he murmurs more than once as he touches you and takes in your beauty. He breathes it into your skin when he kisses you, like he can hardly help the utterance from slipping out.

Being your first time, you are nervous about this, but the way he praises your body makes you feel warm and tingly. “Al... I want-” you breathe.

“Me too,” he answers. He pulls you close, hands fumbling and face cherry-red. “I, uh, I’m really nervous. I don’t know why I...” Your body is pressed close to his and you can sense why he seems so self-conscious. Between you both his manhood is just not cooperating. Mortified, he says, “This has never happened before...”

You’re a bit puzzled by this development, but you can tell by the look on his face that you’re not the problem. It’s all nerves. “Maybe I could... help?” you whisper.

He puts a hand over his mouth again. You’ve never seen him so flushed. But after a moment he nods.

You’re already over him, his back is to the mattress, and so you back up enough to get comfortable with your head lowered between his legs. You grasp his soft dick in your hand, and his thighs tense. You stroke it gently, feel his body react to yours. He is stifling little sighs, and slowly but surely firming in your grip.

When he’s ready, you reach for the condom, nearly forgotten on the nightstand. He guides your hands when you put it on him. You’re practically shivering with excitement, and he can feel it. “You’re not scared are you?”

You let out a burst of laughter. “No.” The condom is lubricated. You’re both ready.

As you shift to get on top of him again, he grasps your waist and flips your positions. “Good.” He sucks on his fingers before his hand travels down your body. He circles the pad of his thumb over your nipple. The moisture cools your skin and makes your nipples stand. His hands continue south, slowing as they reach the heat between your legs. Watching your expression, he works through trial and error, finding where he needs to touch you to make you moan and squirm.

His lips find yours just as a finger slips in side, and he swallows the sounds you make as he stretches you out. “More,” you embarrassingly find yourself whimpering when he moves too slowly and his single finger feels like a tease. He curls in a second and, this time without you needing to tell him to, a third. He’s listening intently to your sounds and urgings, the soft direction you murmur against his lip. He wants to get it right, after all.

That’s why it surprises you when he pulls out so abruptly. You had been enjoying his touch! But you quickly realize, as his hand grips the sheets beside your head, that he has been patient. His damp fingers grip his cock, and his eyes flicker between your spread legs and your eyes. “Can I-?”

“Yes, please, Al.”

He gives his dick one dutiful stroke and lines it up with your opening. You’re so sensitive, you can feel it more than see him adjusting, spreading you carefully open with his tip.

And then he sinks inside.

You tip your head back, let out a breath. As his hips meet yours, he cups your cheek, urging you to meet his eyes. “Is this good?”

It feels like pressure. Not good or bad so soon, not overwhelming. It feels right. “Yes,” you whisper.

He smiles, emboldened, and starts to pump in and out. His pace is slow at first, letting you adjust. But there’s an eagerness he can’t hold back, and soon he’s speeding up. He’s quieter once you get going, chewing his lip and stifling quiet huffs and grunts. It looks like the feeling of you squeezing around him has his full attention. Both of his hands fall to grips the sheets, and his face colors as he gives you his all.

This isn’t like anything you’ve felt before, either. It’s so warm, your bodies together, your breath mingled, the tangle of your limbs, and the clap of you hips colliding. Your legs curl around his waist, and you can hear your own voice- though you’re not sure if you’re saying anything coherent or just letting out whatever wanton noise that builds up inside you out.

What brings you back is Alphonse grasping your face and pulling you into a kiss. Suddenly something so physical and mindless turns soft. You practically melt at his touch, and your eyes slip closed. You feel out of your body for a moment.

And then your senses collide, you slam back you your senses, a shivering pleasure erupting from your core and shaking the muscles through your chest and limbs, all the way to the bloodrush in your face. Your lips part soundlessly, and your left gasping as Al leans back, pulling you into his lap. He guides your hips until he finishes, too, moving while you still recover. He manages a sound, something akin to a growl as he thrusts up into you, and then he stills, breathing hard.

Your chests rise and fall with each other. When you look up, his eyes are a little watery. His hair is tousled, his cheeks are flushed, and he grinning. “Was-” he huffs, “Was that good?”

#full metal alchemist #fma #alphonse elric #x reader #mdni #request

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maggins · 3 years ago

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hey loOK it’s the FMA x Luca crossover nobody asked for!! [crowd booing]

i’m in so freaking deep i also wrote a bullet point outline of this AU so gET READY for a lot of text, grammatical errors, plot inconsistencies and overall unfinished ideas because i’m a terrible writer and i’ve never done anything like this before (but bOY was it fun to erratically type down these ideas as they came along)

Hohenheim was a human, Trisha was a sea monster living in disguise among humans

Hoho never knew Trisha was a sea monster; they lived in a town that was pretty prejudiced against sea monsters and he had that internalized phobia (???)

Due to having having mixed parentage and having been born while Trisha was in human form, Ed appeared to be a human-looking baby on birth, so Hoho never really suspected anything

Hoho and Trisha’s life together was short but sweet, but not long after Trisha got pregnant with Al, Hoho (not sure how??) discovered her secret and was horrified

(not sure about this part now it feel sO CRUEL) Hoho took Ed and ran away with him, clinging desperately to the hope that he was just a human child and that Trisha’s sea monster-ness hadn’t actually passed down to him since he never displayed that ability to transform when wet

surprise, surprise, Hoho was wrong. Ed’s sea monster genes just awoke a bit late (maybe a few years later??), but he was still a sea monster through and through after all

Meanwhile Trisha, heartbroken and with an unborn baby to take care of, returned to the ocean and went to live with two old friends of hers: Izumi and Sig. They welcomed her with open arms and helped her raise baby Al

Trisha had always been fond of humans and their world, that is why she was living on the surface in the first place, but Izumi never shared that view. Even more so now that one of them had broken her friend’s heart and stolen one of her children. That hate increased tenfold when years later Trisha got captured/killed(?? not sure which yet oops) by humans. This led to her being overprotective of Al and warn him against the horrible land monsters who not only took his mother away, but also were absolutely NOT be trusted (since Hoho was a human who held Trisha’s love and trust, but the second he found out about her true nature he ran away with their older son)

On Hoho and Ed’s side of things, Hoho got increasingly frustrated with his clashing worldviews of hating sea monsters and the fact that the person he loved and now his son are actually those exact creatures. Not to mention that now he has to raise Ed all by himself and can’t have anyone find out about his son’s true nature.

He does so for a while, moving from town to town and laying low so as to not raise suspicion, but also getting locals’ help wherever he goes bc they take pity on this wandering vagrant and his small son

However, Ed is growing up and being… Ed, and it gets harder for Hoho to hide his true form from everyone else so eventually they settle on an abandoned island just off the coast of [insert weird mix of Resembool and Portorosso town here]. For a while Hoho stays there and takes care of him, but eventually leaves and Ed has to fend for himself for a while (à la Alberto and his dad)

Ed has grown up to be a very curious and inquisitive boy, but he also acts a bit rashly, which has led to him getting in some trouble. However the greatest trouble he’s ever encountered was when some hunters almost got caught him and harpooned his arm, leading to its loss (i was actually not sure if he should lose his arm before or after Hoho leaves, but i guess it’d make a lot more sense for his survival if he had someone there with him to treat it rather than him being a literal child all alone on an abandoned island and still having to deal with the loss of an arm)

(I’m still not sure of the exact circumstances in which Hoho leaves or what kind of justification he could have for leaving Ed all alone to take care of himself, and missing an arm nonetheless; buuuut idk maybe he admitted to himself he couldn’t actually do this alone anymore and went away to try to find Trisha again or some other sea monster bc he can’t raise Ed to just be a human anymore, he was and always will be a sea monster, and there are things that Hoho just can’t teach him)

So this is kinda like parent trap….. brother trap???? lmao that makes no sense at all wHATEVER the brothers grown up separately (i’m still not sure if they should be aware of each other’s existence??? Ed probably would know bc how come he was a sea monster and his dad wasn’t one like aNSWER ME DAD WHERE DID I COME FROM; but Al would be more sheltered by Izumi i suppose); Ed goofs around on his island and Al leads a pretty boring life underwater, longing for m o r e

They meet one day kinda like in the actual movie Luca, hit it off right away, make plans to go to town and get a Vespa maybe blah blah blah (but like….. elric*st shippers DNI)

and tHEN THERE’S WINRY. i suppose she’s our giulia now lol except automail still exists in this weird mish-mash world, and she’s been training to be an engineer probably from the moment she’s born lol and once the brothers’ secret is out she takes it upon herself to build an automail for Ed that not only is lightweight and extremely water resistant, it also has to be adaptable to whenever Ed changes forms… one hell of a challenge but holy shit she’s resilient and Ed really, rEALLY appreciates her kindness and willingness (Al cheers on them from the sidelines, the little shit)

the reason i wasn’t sure i should kill off Trisha for good was just…. gosh, she’s been thru so much, she deserves a happy reunion with her TWO sons, one of which she hasn’t seen since he was a toddler jUST LET ME HAVE THIS OKAY ;n;

i’m also not sure how the brothers discover they’re actually siblings, but i’m thinking Ed is the one who figures it out first by learning more about Al and his mom, and piecing things together with the stuff his father told him…. and when he DOES figure it out…. oH BOY……. ;;;u;;;;

aaand that’s all she wrote

#fma #fullmetal alchemist #resembool trio #edward elric #winry rockbell #alphonse elric #fma fanart #fma crossover #pixar luca #luca fanart #IM GETTING WAY TOO INVESTED IN THIS AU #also BIG shoutout to all the fma mermaid fics ive ever read that inspired this somehow lol #if you wanna do something with this outline by all means bE MY GUEST I'D LOVE TO SEE IT ;;v;;#also short hair winry rights #my art #fma luca au

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worryinglyinnocent · 2 years ago

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Fic: Safe from the Storm

Summary: A companion piece to last year’s Sheltered by Memories, requested by an anonymous Tumblr user.

When Ed is three years old, a thunderstorm rocks Resembool, and Hohenheim comforts his terrified wife and son.

Rated: G

Safe from the Storm

The storm has been hanging heavy in the air all day, clouds rolling on the horizon and getting closer and closer to Resembool. Everyone has been predicting that it will hit tonight. Before he met Trisha, Hohenheim would not have minded the storm. In fact, he would have welcomed it; the late summer air has been stifling and oppressive recently, and a storm would clear out the heat and re-energise the atmosphere, refreshing everything.

Since meeting Trisha, though, thunderstorms have taken on a whole new meaning. He remembers the first time that it stormed since they started living together, just a couple of months into her pregnancy. She had screamed in terror at the first flash of lightning, diving under the kitchen table and refusing to come out. He had crawled under there with her and held her as she sobbed in fear, not getting up until long after the storm had passed and the lightning was well over the hills and off towards Eastern City.

Trisha has been terrified of thunderstorms ever since she was a child, and although Hohenheim does not fully understand her fear, he nevertheless respects it, and whenever lightning cuts the sky, he will do whatever she needs to make her feel safe, whether that’s hiding all the silverware or just letting her bury her face in his chest until it’s all over.

Trisha knows that the storm is coming. He can see the tension in her as she moves around the house, getting dinner ready and putting the boys to bed, glancing out of the windows every few minutes even after all the curtains have been drawn. The anticipation of it unnerves her even more than the actual thunder and lightning do at times.

“We’ll be fine,” he assures her as they get ready for bed, and Trisha sighs, pausing in brushing out her hair.

“We’re on the top of a hill,” she points out. “We’re the tallest thing for miles around.”

“The tree is taller than the house. If anything comes down here, it’ll get the tree.”

“I don’t want a burning tree next to the house any more than I want a burning house.”

Hohenheim goes over to her, pressing a kiss to her cheek. “I won’t let anything happen to you. I promise.”

The rain starts at that moment, a heavy, unrelenting downpour pattering hard on the roof, and Trisha gives another sigh, shivering with the knowledge that further disturbance will definitely be coming. Hohenheim takes the hairbrush from her unresisting hands, picking up where she had left off and running it gently through her chestnut locks, each stroke of the brush followed by one of his fingers. At last Trisha gives a small smile, leaning in against his hand.

“I know,” she says eventually. “I know you’ll protect us all.”

That does not stop her eyes drifting over to the window and the thick curtains with every squall of rain that hits the glass, and Hohenheim can’t blame her. The weather is usually so mild in Resembool, it’s rare indeed for it to hit extremes like this and it would unnerve most people, even those without a pre-existing fear of thunder.

He finishes brushing her hair and kisses the top of her head, and she laughs, their eyes meeting in the dressing table mirror.

“Thank you.”

“My pleasure. Come to bed, my love. The storm won’t be over any quicker if you sit up and wait for it.”

“I know.” She gets up, taking one final glance at the window before she gets into bed, burrowing down under the blankets. They keep the light on, but dim. At least it will soften the flashes of lightning for her. Trisha cuddles close next to him when he joins her, pressed in so tightly that there can barely be any air between them, but Hohenheim doesn’t mind. He wraps his arms around her, silently willing her to be able to sleep whilst she can.

The lightning wakes him, a bright flash piercing through the room just a second before the thunderclap, and from Trisha’s nails suddenly digging into his chest, it’s woken her too.

“It’s all right, love. I’m here, it’s all right.” He strokes her hair; at least the rain and wind have died back now and it’s only the thunder and lightning that they have to worry about. Gradually, Trisha unclaws her hands, twisting them into the fabric of his undershirt instead, her fists tight and hard as she screws her eyes up against the lightning as much as she could. She doesn’t speak, and neither does he; there isn’t anything to say apart from murmured nothings reassuring her that he’s still there and they are safe from the storm here, that there is nothing to worry about.

The storm is right overhead and showing no signs of letting up. Hopefully they'll be able to get some more sleep tonight. He squints over at the clock on Trisha’s nightstand, they could only have had an hour or so at the most.

Hohenheim hears the door creak and he pushes himself up as much as he can without dislodging Trisha’s hold on him, looking over her shoulder to see Ed’s little tousled head peering into the room with wide and frightened eyes.

“It’s ok,” he says. “Come in, Ed. Come here.”

Ed runs across the room on light, pattering feet as another flash of lightning makes Trisha cringe again, launching himself onto the bed in a bid for safety and scrambling around to get as much of himself under the covers as he could, as quickly as possible.

This is going to require some logistical manoeuvering. Keeping one arm around the still-quivering Trisha, Hohenheim shifts over onto his back and finds Ed, pulling him in close on his other side. His son immediately stops fidgeting, burrowing into his side and staying there in a tight ball.

“It’s all right,” he soothes. “We’ll be all right.”

The storm continues to rage. Now that it has woken him, Hohenheim knows that he will not be able to get back to sleep again until it’s all over, and he would not have done even if he wasn’t sharing his bed with Ed and Trisha, neither of whom will sleep again until it’s all over by any means. He doesn’t mind. They’re counting on him to keep them safe, and that’s what he’ll do. It’s hardly a chore; you’re supposed to keep the people that you love safe. It’s all part and parcel of loving them.

The storm finally seems to be dying back, and Trisha starts to relax in minute degrees beside him, until the thunder decides that it’s lulled them into a false sense of security enough and gives a deafening crash when they’re least expecting it. Trisha squeaks, immediately tensing and pressing her face into his shoulder, and Ed gives a little sob.

“It’s ok. It’s ok, I’m right here.” He wracks his brains, trying to think of what Trisha does to calm the boys when they’re scared and frantic, unable to sleep after dreams have turned to nightmares and pulled them from their slumber. Usually she sings to them.

Hohenheim does not have a great singing voice and cannot remember any of Trisha’s lullabies, but the souls are humming in his veins, a tune from his own long-distant and long-forgotten childhood drifting back to him, increasing in pitch through his mind until he finds himself humming along with them.

Eventually, the storm begins to quieten, and so the souls begin to quieten too, satisfied of a job well done in the name of keeping Ed and Trisha calm.

“I’ve never heard that before,” Trisha whispers. She does not let go of him, but she does unburrow herself a little and look up at him, giving a weak smile. “Is that one from Xerxes?”

He nods.

“It’s beautiful.”

The souls give a chorus of thanks and appreciation of Trisha’s excellent musical taste, even if Hohenheim’s execution of the tune left a lot to be desired, and Hohenheim just rolls his eyes at their antics. On his other side, he feels Ed untense a little, his scared and shallow breathing finally evening out into soft sleep.

The sky is beginning to lighten outside the window. The storm is over at last, and Hohenheim finally closes his eyes as the bedroom becomes peaceful once more.

The day dawns bright and clear and sunny, just as he knew it would. Hohenheim glances down at Trisha and Ed on either side of him, both sleeping peacefully if still clinging to him with a limpet hold.

He doesn’t mind. It isn't like he has anywhere else to be right now.

He hears unbalanced footsteps in the corridor and Al toddles into the room, dragging his stuffed kitten with him. He looks at the scene with the eyes of a two-year-old who has slept like the dead through the worst thunderstorm of recent history, before shuffling over to the bed, clambering up and promptly falling asleep again, wedged against his father’s feet.

Hohenheim smiles. They’ve barely slept - apart from Al - and Trisha will be tired and Ed will be fractious from the broken night. He’ll have to go out and assess the storm damage; see how much of Trisha’s vegetable garden can be salvaged, and check the roof for missing tiles.

Right here and now, though, with Trisha by his side and their boys curled up with them, Hohenheim would not exchange this moment for anything, and he only wishes that it could somehow last forever.

#FMA Brotherhood #FMA Fanfiction #Van Hohenheim #Trisha Elric #Edward Elric #Fic: Sheltered By Memories

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artistfingers · 3 years ago

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do you have ant fic recs for fma? I just recently finished both series

!!!! yes, i am overjoyed to give FMA fic recs!!!

Here’s a little scattering of nine ten of my favorites—almost exclusively complete FMA:B AUs, and one or two pre-or-post-canon ones as well.

The little ★ beside an author means I recommend checking out their whole archive.

Fic links & summaries below the cut (｡･∀･)ﾉﾞ

i'm still, still dreaming magnificent things by @anthropwashere ★

“Brother,” he says, dismayed. He reaches out to touch Ed’s hunched shoulder, to comfort him, to help him on his feet, to carry him bodily to the Rockbells’ house if he has to to make sure Ed will be okay—

—but his hand passes right through Ed instead.

(An AU in which Ed is eleven, terrified, in pain, and alone on that terrible night, and he doesn't think that some small scrap of Alphonse might be salvageable from the Gate. He crawls out of his house instead, thinking he's killed his little brother—and Alphonse's ghost is forced to watch the years pass him by, invisible and mute, trapped in the in-between and blaming himself for everything that's gone wrong.)

hell (in high water) by @presumenothing ★

They weren’t even meant to stop in Resembool.

Wouldn’t have, if not for the torrential rain that had forced everyone to disembark instead of continuing on to the next stop, and Roy makes sure to include the appropriate dismay in his voice when he reports this to East Command over the train station’s phone.

The Switch and the Spur by colonel_bastard

Something tickles at the corner of his mouth, and on instinct, Roy reaches out with his tongue to quell it. To his horror, he disturbs the rest of a large black fly that has been drinking his sweat.

Welcome to Ishbal.

maestoso by novalotypo

Edward Elric is about eleven when he stands up, makes an extended effort to knock as many books off the old bastard’s shelves as he can, and says, “Fuck the military. Al, you interested in music at all?”

Everybody's got their own ideas of retirement.

The Elrics don't even do retirement, what with the world trying to blow itself up every other month, but this shit has got to take the fucking cake.

Be Kind, Rewind by icewhisper

Maes Hughes died on a Tuesday night. When Roy woke up the next day, it was Tuesday morning. It kept being Tuesday morning.

Demon Alchemist Series by @metisket ★

“Yeah, yeah, I know. You’re doin’ your best. It’s just your best isn’t quite good enough, Colonel. So while you’re doing whatever the hell it is you do, I’ll be here cleaning up after you.”

It's Not a Big Deal by hangonsilvergirl

(6:50) I thought you wouldn’t want to be left hanging re: my dick epic

(6:51) Pun again unintended

(6:52) And wow that makes it sound like I want to tell you the magnum opus of my own dick

***

An AU in a modern setting where Edward and Winry don't know one another until he texts the wrong number.

Inappropriately, naturally.

To the Night Sky by @problematic-ranowa★

They tell him he lost his mind. He doesn't remember anything else, so he believes them. But if that's the case, then why does he sometimes feel like he doesn't belong here... and neither does that little, annoying, blond kid named Ed? Parental RoyEd, not traditional amnesia fic.

Stock Market Crash by VIKAN

Stranded in the middle of the Eastern Desert, Roy Mustang must try to get himself and a concussed Edward across it safely before he completely loses his mind.

Thermal Flux by artistfingers (does this count?? ehh sure it counts)

Winry prided herself on her situational awareness, quick thinking, and high bullshit threshold. Hell, for Colonel Mustang’s team, those qualities were all but requirements. It also meant that she was well-equipped to handle a stranger bleeding out in a blizzard—even with the eerily familiar face, never mind the shoddily alchemized perforating trauma.

But automail built straight from her childhood designs?

Well. She might need a slightly higher bullshit threshold after all.

#fma fic recs #fullmetal alchemist #fma #fmab fic recs #fmab #this doesn't even include fics i havnt finishd OR xovrs #or things in my memory that i didnt bookmark and didnt try to dredge up rn #sdjkdjfhd or ones on my to read #it's times like this i shake my fist at myself for using ao3's bookmark function so sparingly lsjadkhfsa #ask #anon #Art's Fic Recs

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felixcloud6288 · 1 year ago

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Fullmetal Alchemist Chapter 41

And now we get to see how the heist was pulled off!

With the information from this chapter, we can say that it was Barry's idea to break Maria Ross out of prison but Roy was the mastermind responsible for everything else, including the Super Heist and the process of smuggling Maria Ross out of the country.

We're shown that Maria Ross's prison bracelet had been cut off by Havoc. One thing I'm surprised about is how neither Roy nor Ross got hurt by the explosion Roy created. It was a big blast seen for several blocks and Maria Ross was standing right by the dummy.

Breda was also a major contributor to the heist and probably acted as a liaison for the Super Heist setup before heading east. He was the one who told Armstrong to meet him in Resembool, and he probably told Lin about the Super Heist plan, and Lin may or may not have informed Barry.

I do have to wander what they would have done if Barry hadn't met Lin in the prison though. Barry broke Lin out because he realized they hadn't figured out what to do with Maria after the breakout and suddenly, they had a potential solution.

Since the followup plan was to rendezvous in Cselkcess so all parties could exchange information, they may have been planning to smuggle Maria Ross to Xing regardless of if they happened to bump into someone from Xing who can help her out.

And it also seems Ed being dragged along by Armstrong was not part of the plan but it is a welcome surprise. Admittedly, most of the information Ed could provide either overlaps with Armstrong's information, was discovered during the Super Heist, or isn't relevant anymore. The only thing of interest from Ed is Greed had some connection to those involved in the conspiracy and Bradley had every one at the Devil's Nest killed despite them potentially having information on things.

The three biggest pieces of info Breda took interest in are Dr Marcoh's location, the raid on the Devil's Nest, and that picture of Lust.

Meanwhile, Maria Ross is just there.

And just because Roy wanted to cover all his bases, Breda was ordered to kill Maria Ross in case she actually killed Hughes. This little part just proves how Envy's profile of Roy is completely wrong. While Mustang does want to avenge Hughes, his primary goal is to discover and stop the conspiracy that decided Hughes must die. Finding the guy who shot him would just be a bonus. If Roy had been convinced Maria Ross was the killer and she was executed for it, Roy would just declare that case closed and move on to finding out who all the other conspirators are.

You know Ed realized how much he screwed up when he doesn't react to Breda calling him a little runt.

Ed still doesn't know how to move forward, but after all this, he's regained the resolve to do so. Or maybe he's putting more on himself again. He's moving forward because of everyone else's actions and encouragement. He hasn't actually given any reason for himself.

...he says while gripping his right arm and sitting in front of a cross.

Maria Ross leaves promising to one day return to repay Colonel Mustang for saving her. She salutes Breda and Armstrong but shakes Ed's hand telling him to take care. Ed told her and Danny they don't need to worry about formality or rank with him. She still remembers that and gives Ed a goodbye as a person who cares about him.

That submission hold Ed puts the Ishbalan man in is very similar to the one Izumi put Loa in in chapter 28. Like teacher, like pupil.

The elderly woman, Mistress Shan, may be one of the priests Scar's master had said fled to the Eastern desert. All the people there talk about the Rockbells so most of them had likely been saved by them. And we learn Scar was responsible for their deaths.

And with this the heist, and the subsequent Super Heist, are concluded.

Also we get to see Breda being scared of a dog.

back

#fullmetal alchemist #fullmetal alchemist reread

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amxstrian · 3 years ago

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based on that line from the briggs arc when ed says something along the lines of how he wants to drag scar to the rockbell family grave to pay his respects, do you think ed ever makes good on that? or would scar go to visit by himself, or not at all? id imagine that people in resembool would be apprehensive about him even coming into their town. i also wonder how pinako would respond to meeting him.

ooooh this is a really good question! i don’t see ed and scar having much contact after the promised day, if any at all. i can see scar visiting on his own, probably pretty subtly tho bc i think ur right, i’m not sure how welcome he would be in resembool. although that being said, resembool is pretty disconnected from the cities and scar’s identity isn’t like, super well known, so they might not think anything of it at all! i still think he would be careful about it though because of the elrics and winry being there.

as for pinako, i think it could go a number of ways! pinako can be an unpredictable character, but i think winry would have talked to her about a lot of it. she would know what scar had done, but also the context behind it and she has first hand knowledge of how the war affected people. i don’t think she would like, fly off the handle at him but i think if they were ever to meet, for whatever reason, she would be curt but polite? kind of like how she treated armstrong. obv her feelings about scar would be more personal, but we know pinako blames the military for yuriy and sarah’s deaths. so i think on that end she would still be angry, but understanding?

what i would really like to see, if scar were to visit the rockbell’s graves, would be winry seeing him. like she visits her parents’ graves one day and there’s already a figure standing in front of them. she doesn’t recognise him until she gets closer, and by the time she’s standing beside him, she’s already resolved herself not to say anything. what could she say that hasn’t already been said, by her, by ed, by countless other people, thousands of times? so they just stand in silence together. and eventually, when scar turns to leave, she smiles. quick, fleeting, but enough for him to see it. he doesn’t say anything, just walks away, but he doesn’t need to. it’s enough. it has to be.

#this was really fun to think about!!#but yeah i don’t think ed and scar would have like. any contact after the promised day #i don’t think they have much motivation to #al *might* see him if scar and mei keep in contact but even that relies on mei and scar actually staying in touch #speaks #scar #winry rockbell #pinako rockbell #asks

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firewoodfigs · 4 years ago

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sudden inspiration at 2am to write some parental content, all thanks to @katharinedraws00 lovely art :^) (art by Katharine, not me!! I can’t draw to save my life!)

It struck him out of the blue, as most nightmares do. One moment he was dreaming of Winry and her obsessive rambling about the latest automail developments in Rush Valley; the bleating sheep and the undulating valleys that gave Resembool its glorious, rustic charm, and his mother’s blissful smile whenever she stood out in the morning sun to hang their laundry dry. Then all of a sudden her smile twisted in a wicked, disdainful sneer. No longer was it the mother he remembered and so dearly loved. Instead the marks of his transgression, his utter failure took her place and glared at him with sinister red eyes that made his stomach churn and his blood boil.

Ed woke with a start, heaving.

“Just a bad dream,” he muttered to himself. The sun was creeping in through the heavy, velvet brocades of the hotel by now, beckoning for him to go out and do whatever it was he’d been assigned here for. Ed groaned and rubbed the sleep out of his eyes blearily.

At least the hotel breakfast was good. A decent spread of eggs and toast and fruits, the typical assortment to be expected (no milk, thankfully) awaited him. With all the eagerness of a starved man, he devoured plate after plate gleefully, thankful that it’d be charged to the military and not his personal bank account.

Once breakfast was out of the way and he’d managed to flush some of the bad thoughts out of his mind with a cup of orange juice, Ed then headed towards the lobby to reconvene with the bastard and Lieutenant Hawkeye.

“Let’s go,” he yawned, making it a point to not make eye contact with them so that they wouldn’t see the vestiges of his cruel, twisted dreams. Mustang sighed, muttering something about how punctuality was paramount in the military.

Ed simply ignored him and waltzed ahead of them, stretching luxuriously.

—

The rest of the day passed by without much incident. Externally, anyway. What went on in his mind, however, was a completely different story. Somehow the visceral images of that night kept conjuring themselves in his head even as he tried valiantly to suppress them with happy thoughts. (Like Al munching on Winry’s apple pie. Or Mustang getting socked in the face.)

And it only got worse when he passed by all the mothers holding their children’s hands like they were the most precious thing in the world.

In the end, it’d been bad enough such that he couldn’t even sleep. Ed thought this was a remarkable feat, as he was typically able to fall asleep even on the most uncomfortable trains. Not to mention the day had been completely exhausting — all the walking and gallivanting and constant alertness had worn him out sufficiently, to the point that his limbs were aching and his joints were groaning like an old man. Like Mustang whenever he was met with paperwork.

Then, the mumbling from outside reached his ears. It was strangely warm, soothing. And from that the memory of his mother’s comforting murmurs whenever he had a nightmare or a bad fall emerged, crushing whatever modicum of pride that he’d been latching onto into dust.

Desperate to sleep (and for comfort, though he’d never admit that aloud), Ed opened the door quietly and walked towards the source of the mumbling, keeping his head lowered so that the jerk wouldn’t have an opportunity to make fun of his weakness. Even more quietly, he confessed, “Alright. Uh, due to some, er, traumatic events that happened today, I haven’t been able to sleep, I heard some mumbling in here so I —“

Wait, what the heck?

Was that a kiss he heard? A kiss? Like, lips on skin, or lips on lips?

Ed paled visibly, choking on his saliva. Instantly he retracted his words, but while he wanted to call Mustang out for being twelve different kinds of repulsive (and for goodness’ sake, Lieutenant Hawkeye deserved better than some self-conceited, pompous imbecile with an ego the size of Amestris!) he remembered that Lieutenant Hawkeye was there too.

Lieutenant Hawkeye, who could shoot him if she so wanted for invading on their privacy like that.

“Oh, er, sorry! I didn’t mean to interrupt you all… I’ll just —“ and he scampered away, hoping he’d live to see another day.

“Get over here, shorty,” Mustang called. Ed’s antenna twitched, and he halted in his tracks, all too ready to retaliate and beat Mustang up into a bleeding pulp.

But all of a sudden he was encased in a warm embrace, the Lieutenant’s soft hair tickling his own messy fringe.

“You’re always welcome here, Ed,” Hawkeye reassured kindly.

Ed wanted to bury himself out of embarrassment. Of course, he’d always known that Lieutenant Hawkeye had a soft spot, but now that he was on the receiving end of one of her — what he presumed to be extremely rare — hugs…

He didn’t quite know how to respond.

“I, uh,” he began sheepishly. “Sorry —“

“It’s okay,” Hawkeye soothed. To his mortification, Mustang was hugging him as well. Ed didn’t know whether to punch him in the face or kick him in the nuts, but at least there was no mockery or ridicule coming from the man. Instead, his expression looked…

Concerned?

Ed swallowed uncomfortably.

“Are you alright, Fullmetal?”

“Y-yeah. I’m fine.”

Heat crawled up his face, betraying the embarrassment he felt.

Yet they didn’t budge. If anything, they only continued to tighten their arms around him. And ultimately Ed caved. Unable to resist, he relished in their kindness — a kindness so unimaginably warm and tender that it could only belong to a parent’s — and gradually relaxed in their embrace.

And Ed wondered if this was what it felt like to have a family, whole and complete and loving.

#fma fic #fma fanfic #royai #parental royai #Edward Elric #this is your daily reminder to give Edward Elric a hug if you haven't already done so #that is all #goodnight everyone for real HAHAHAHA

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cakelanguage · 4 years ago

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Merry Christmas @okay-sky! I’m your secret Santa for the @fmasecretsanta2020 #fmasecretsanta

I had an absolute blast writing this for you and I hope you like this RoyEd piece as much as I enjoyed writing it. Have a happy holidays and I wish you the best.

You can also read this on AO3

The snow was a foot deep and maneuvering through it was a pain in the ass, but Roy was determined to make it to the post office in North City. Normally, Roy rarely makes the trip unless he's on the last dredges of his food supply but the potential for one of Ed's letters to be there had him pushing onward.

For the short amount of time he'd gotten to spend in Central, he'd spent a large amount of it enjoying the company of the Elric brothers, specifically Ed. It was like an old wound had finally stopped aching when he got to see the man. And he was now. A man, that is. A maturity he never thought he'd see from the older Elric permeated his actions. While he still had a temper he didn't bare his teeth at the smallest of teases. He seemed wiser now and Roy wondered what he'd experienced in this other world.

His interest and desire to spend more time with Ed wasn't one-sided either. The man--amidst Roy’s own scramble to steal his attention from Miss Rockbell and Alphonse-- found him at all hours of the day to discuss anything. From alchemic theories to the property damage done while he was away, the two never seemed to run out of things to talk about.

When he'd been forced to return up North, Ed had been the one to suggest keeping up a correspondence through letters. Roy didn't mention that he’d have to essentially hike to the post office and instead happily agreed. Ed promised to write often and Roy said he'd do the same.

And he intended to.

Which brought him back to his every other day trek.

He didn't know when he'd receive his first letter so he just kept coming back. For the first time, Roy was thankful for the cane that the doctor suggested he get for strenuous exercise in case the scar tissue flared up. He'd been adamant about not using it for the longest time, but out here -- where he wasn't surrounded by people who unintentionally put him on a pillar-- using the cane didn't matter.

His breath puffed in the frosty air as he took a moment to rest his legs. He could already see the city so he'd only have around another 30-minute walk if he continued at the pace he was going.

North City was as lively as it could be for one with near-constant snowfall. While the population consisted mostly of military personnel there were still plenty of families and small businesses dotted amongst the abundance of government buildings.

These little businesses felt like they’d been plucked out of a different location, the warm glow of the fluorescents glimmering through the large windows. Roy's favorite was a little bookstore that specializes in customer requests. They'd take a poll from an assortment of people to find out what they wanted and go from there.

Roy indulged in much of the literature they had to offer and the sweet family-run shop told him he was welcome to make any requests he wanted.

Ed would've salivated at the thought.

On the outskirts of the inner city lies the post office. It was never terribly busy which was a blessing so Roy had no trouble siddling up to the counter.

"Well I'll be," the scruffy man at the counter whistled, "you're back again already."

Roy gave him a tired smile. "Glettner, I just don't want to miss the letter I'm supposed to be getting."

"I guess, but you don't live in the city so you gotta walk here." He shuddered. "Couldn't pay me to make that hike more than once a year and I've lived here for over a decade."

"I want to be punctual."

Glettner rolled his eyes, but those eyes only held mirth in them. "Well Mr. Punctual, you're in luck, a letter for you arrived yesterday evening."

Roy wasn't sure what his reaction was but it garnered him a chuckle all the same.

"Ah-ha!" Glettner cried victoriously and walked back over with the letter. "This person must really like you if they're willing to use four stamps and Express delivery." He shook his head. "Express is always so expensive.”

The letter in his hand was hefty with Ed’s tell-tale god awful handwriting on the front. He brought the letter close to his chest with a content hum.

“Ugh,” Glettner whined, “Go read your letter somewhere else if you’re gonna be looking like that when you only read the cover.”

Roy sent him a flat look. “I’ll see you, Glettner,” Roy called over his shoulder, tucking the letter safely into his coat. “Stay warm.”

“Speak for yourself! Try not to get yourself killed walking to the post office you flame-brained moron.”

Glettner always did say the nicest things.

Back in the relative safety of his cabin, Roy was able to settle down and open the letter. Carefully, he pulled the small bundle of papers jammed inside, out onto the table. Offhandedly he stoked the fire a little more with a snap of his fingers.

Admittedly, he’d missed the ease that using his alchemy allowed him with certain tasks.

Colonel Bastard,

Roy snorted and shook his head. He’d already told Ed he wasn’t a colonel anymore, but apparently, the fact hadn’t stuck in the shrimp’s mind. He wondered if Ed still had his infamous temper tantrums about his height.

Something to find out later.

The other man seemed to have grown up a great deal in the past two years, but Roy doubted Ed would’ve been able to calm himself down when it came to his height and the lack thereof.

I hope this gets to you fast, and that you haven’t frozen solid up there. Havoc told me about your cabin and I’ll be honest: sounds shitty. But they did say you had a fireplace so maybe it isn’t too bad as long as you don’t move from in front of the fire. Though now that I know what your job entails I can honestly say that you might be fucked.

Seriously, who wants to stand out in all that snow to watch for potential attacks from Drachma? That’s what Briggs is for. So get your ass back here before your ass freezes to a chair or something.

He couldn’t stop the laugh that burst from him. The letter was just wholly Ed and it almost felt like the other man was here in person.

Al wants me to tell you he says hi, so that’s from him. He’s doing okay, he’s kinda got everything figured out now. I mean he obviously did before, he was doing fine while I was gone. He’s made a name for himself even if he did kinda steal my look.

He doesn’t need me anymore.

The ink is smudged and blurred in spots and Roy’s heart clenched in his chest when he realized that those were probably tears.

I expected it and I’m glad he was able to keep moving forward with everyone’s help. I don’t know. I guess I didn’t realize how that’d make me feel when you were here. You’re kinda distracting even when Al’s around.

No higher praise than being able to pull Ed’s attention away from his little brother.

Resembool is the same, which is weird. Germany seemed to change every day. There were always new people coming through or some kind of showcase going on. Did I tell you about the rocket we were building? It’s hard to remember that I’m no longer in a world governed by the laws of “modern science” instead of Alchemy.

I wish you were here. I miss your stupid, smug face.

Oh did he ache for Ed to be able to insult him in person.

It’s your turn to write a letter.

-Edward Elric

Beside his name, Ed had drawn what he assumed was a self-portrait of him sticking his tongue out in a cartoonish style. Charming.

Roy set the letter on the table and rubbed at his eyes and pinched the bridge of his nose. Somehow, the letter only made him miss Ed more. He wanted to ease Ed’s worries and reassure him that he was needed.

Well, he had a letter to write.

Fullmetal,

I thought telling you four times was enough, but maybe your ears were too tiny to hear me correctly. I’m not a colonel anymore so the name isn’t correct. Haven’t we known each other long enough to be a little less informal?

You’re right, it’s freezing up here, and staying warm is near impossible without the fire. I wear two layers of wool socks and I’m still wary that I’m going to get frostbite on one of my watches.

Briggs is in charge of guarding our border. I’m just in charge of keeping watch on the trading routes that weave along the mountain valley for any sign of trouble.

Al may not need you in the same capacity that he did, but I guarantee he’s happier than he’s been in the last two years now that you’re here. From what I’ve heard from both Hawkeye and Miss Rockbell, he always seemed to be looking over his shoulder for you when he’d accomplish anything.

You are absolutely needed, and not just by Al. Never forget that Edward.

Small towns don’t change often so I’m not surprised it seems the same. People grow older, but small towns keep to themselves for the most part. Every once in a while fresh meat joins the community and they’ll be a stir and things might change a little, but generally go back to normal quickly.

City life is vivacious and ever-changing. A bigger place and more people means more changes. My aunt runs a bar and I remember how often the city would change around us.

If by rocket you mean the one you released into that crowd of people, then yes I remember you telling me about it. But feel free to tell me again, you have a knack for storytelling that I didn’t think you’d have.

I wish you were here too. I miss your impish face.

-Roy Mustang

A week later, Roy received his second letter.

Glettner gave him a wry grin and presented it to him with a flourish. “Your sweetheart replied,” he tittered, “should ask for a lock of hair in your next letter or a care package.” He winked at Roy. “Maybe something for those long, lonely nights.”

“Get your mind out of the gutter,” Roy grouched, “it’s not from a lover.”

Glettner sighed dramatically. “Well, certainly not with that attitude! You’re clearly pining, can’t you see it?”

He raised his only visible eyebrow at the man. “Really?”

The other man waved him off. “Nevermind, just get out of here. I’ll see you in a day or so.”

“Take care, Glettner.”

“Yeah, yeah, go read your damn letter.”

Bastard,

FUCK YOU, I GREW.

Not that much Ed, Roy thought with a chuckle.

I hope that’s a better name for you. And I’m not Fullmetal anymore, not really. Sure plenty of people are going to keep calling me that, but I’m not part of the military right now. Still gotta prove I’m not dead and shit.

Do you know how hard it is to try to reinstate documents after they’ve listed you as dead? I was literally two seconds away from straight-up murdering a lawyer who was at city hall because he kept saying I needed more identification. Which is bullshit because I’m DEAD to the government.

This would’ve been really handy when Al and I were running from the military, though. But not now! Luckily, it is being sorted out and I shouldn’t have to wait much longer before I have all my documentation in order.

That was good. Ed had just started the whole process when he left to return to his post and it’d given him a headache just thinking about it.

So you lived with your aunt? Did you grow up in Central?

As much as I’ve traveled, I’m a hick at heart. I still enjoy the peace and quiet of the countryside more than the noise and life of the city. I can live in either though.

A corner of his mouth lifts. Ed preferred anywhere he could read and learn without interruptions. That hadn’t changed.

Are you lonely up there by yourself? I feel like you’re probably spending way too much time criticizing all your past actions and moping. Fuck that. Tell me about something you want to do when you come back to Central. What’s on Roy “Smug Bastard” Mustang’s agenda?

-Ed

Oh, and thanks for saying that. I think I needed to hear that from someone. I’m glad it was you.

Ed,

I guess if you can so kindly call me something else, I can just use your name. And as much as I appreciate your affectionate nickname for me, you can just call me Mustang or even just Roy, it wouldn’t bother me at all. But if you insist on a nickname I suppose I can give you one too, shorty.

I haven’t had to deal with retracting a declaration of the deceased before so I honestly don’t have any advice for you. I’d suggest going through all the hoops that they line up for you to jump through even if a shortcut looks promising. Other people were claiming to be you for fame or what-have-you so they aren’t intentionally trying to be difficult.

Why am I not surprised you actually thought about how useful the situation would’ve been back then… Maybe you’re getting predictable.

I did grow up with my aunt as my legal guardian. Both of my parents passed away when I was a young boy and she took me in. It was a rocky start. I was mourning my parents and terrified of my new living situation. But Chris Mustang always did her best to make sure I was comfortable and taken care of whether it was food or new clothes.

But she also put me to work. I obviously couldn’t work at the bar, but I bused tables and cleaned the place once we closed for the night.

Her bar doubled as an information network with her girls -- my sisters-- acting as spies while going about their business. People talk a lot during sex and will let their guard down if they feel comfortable. I learned my networking strategies from them.

I don’t know if I can imagine you as the typical hick. It’s something about all that rage and attitude that makes me think more of small town punks. But there is something nice about the quiet of the countryside.

It’s not I’m not I suppose I am a bit lonely out here. I don’t really have much communication to speak of besides your letters. They’re the highlight of my days. The only other person I normally talk to right now is the man who runs the post office. I feel like I’m disconnected from people nowadays. Whether that’s because I was part of a coupe that unsettled them or my demeanor is just off-putting. Let me know what you think.

When I get back to Central, the first thing I want to do is look for an apartment. Then I’m not sure. Maybe go back to pursuing the title of Fruher. After the whole Homunculus debacle, I stepped down in a rush to… run as far away from what had happened as I could.

After that… would you like to go out sometime? Get something to drink, eat a good meal with good company?

You’re probably going to have to fight to spend time with me at first. The team kept reminding me that when I was there that they missed me. But I’ll make plenty of time for you.

-Roy

“Roy, you have a package,” Glettner commented the third time he came into the post office that week. “Did you take my advice and ask for a token from them?” He leaned over the counter with a lewd grin. “There’s no telling what’s in here.”

Roy huffed and held out his hand. “Box, Glettner,” Roy ordered. He thought Glettner was funny and the man reminded him of an older, grayer Havoc with all his teasing and good-natured ribbing. It made him miss his team, though.

Glettner deposited the box in his hands before holding out a box cutter, handle-first to Roy. “Can I convince you to open it here? I can even let you use the back room for some privacy if you want.”

Roy shook his head with a put-upon grin. “You seem more excited about this package than I am.”

He shrugged “I don’t think you realize how boring it can get here. Usually the most exciting thing I get in this place is the military personnel transferring sensitive documents.” He scrunched his nose. “I don’t know, guess the whole thing makes my romantic heart sing.”

“You trying to get me to feel sorry for you so I’ll open the package here?”

“That depends, is it working?”

He chuckled softly, shaking his head. “Fine, take me to your backroom.”

Glettner threw a fist in the air and gestured to a door on the right. “Follow me, lover-boy.”

He grumbled but followed after the perky man. They weaved through the stacks of boxes and came across a desk. Glettner shoved a few papers to the side so Roy had a spot to put his package on.

Roy set his box down and carefully ran the knife along the taped edges. He shifted through the newspaper that’d been carefully positioned around the gift.

And what a gift it was.

Nestled inside the box was a phone that was almost the exact one that’d sat on his old desk. He gently pulled it out of its protective paper. Now that he could see it fully he noted the wear on some of the parts. The rotary dial was a polished bronze and looked to be the newest piece on the phone. The body of the phone consisted of a few welded pieces of metal but the job was near seamless so unless Ed knew someone who could weld, he’d probably done it himself with alchemy.

He thumbed at the handset and couldn’t stop the grin that spread across his face. It felt like the same metal as Ed’s new arm was made of and he knew Ed had made that choice on purpose.

“They sent you a phone?” Glettner asked, interrupting Roy’s casual admiration of his gift.

“I’m pretty sure it’s so we can call each other in case we don’t want to wait for the mail system to deliver our messages,” Roy explained.

The other man turned his attention to him sharply. “So I won’t see you anymore?”

Roy shook his head. “No, you’ll still have to see me,” he nodded his head at the phone, “Even with a phone I won’t have a guaranteed connection with where I am, but it gives us the option if we…” He paused, his smile going from soft to joyful, “to hear each other’s voice.”

“Aw fuck,” Glettner sniffled, “you’ve got that mushy look on your face.”

Roy’s face closed off. “Better?”

The postman shook his head. “I think whatever you two are, it makes you better.” He rubbed at his nose and shrugged. “Take that as you will.”

Setting up the phone was relatively easy after he finagled a makeshift antenna to the roof of the cabin. He’d picked up a few pieces of scrap steel and transported his load back to his cabin. With a quick transmutation, he’d constructed an antenna that would ideally not break if the storms got bad.

Ed had suggested he use steel in his letter and if he trusted anyone when it came to metal knowledge it’d be the Fullmetal Alchemist, Edward Elric.

He glanced over at the letter he’d set on the table and reread what Ed had written.

… Winry and Al pointed out to me that I could be calling you if I didn’t want to wait to get a letter. But when I asked Riza how to call you she told me you didn’t have one.

What kind of bullshit is that? I figure everyone has a phone but then you get relocated and haven’t bothered to get a phone in the two years you’ve been gone?

There's a large inkblot on the dot of his question mark as if Ed had paused to gather his thoughts but forgotten to pick up his pen.

Sounds like you were in a bad place.

Ed had always had a special gift of understanding why Roy did what he did. Even more so now that he'd matured more and had gone through a similar mindstate.

I get that. I’ve been there. But I’m taking away some of this forced isolation you’ve coveted for yourself.

I’m not telling you that you have to start talking to people now that you have a phone, but try. You may have lost an eye, but you aren’t blind. And you have tons of people who care about you and I know you can see that so don’t keep shutting them out.

Like that.

Everyone else had given him ample space to adjust to his vision change and his disillusionment of the government he'd put so much time and effort into. But that space became hard to contain and soon he'd pushed almost everyone behind the protective wall he'd crafted for himself.

He needed someone to tell him that what he was doing couldn't-- nor should it-- continue.

I’ve written everyone’s number down on the back of this letter just in case you forgot, old man. I hijacked the Rockbell’s landline so I can have a phone in my room. Feel free to call whenever after seven.

I don't care if it's ass o'clock in the morning, call me if you need me or wanna talk or whatever.

Talk to you soon, hopefully.

-Ed

He didn't use the phone for a good three hours until the hands on the clock were just shy of eleven. He tried two fingers of scotch to help him sleep, but it left a smoky aftertaste in his mouth that brought up too many memories of being a walking crematorium.

He finished spinning the dial and waited for the call to be picked up or ignored. It wasn’t that he thought Ed was lying about being able to call whenever, but Ed couldn’t guarantee he’d be by the phone at all times.

There was a click and then a familiar voice echoing through the receiver. “Rockbell Automail, the store hours are from 9 a.m. to 6 p.m. but if this is an emergency we’ll see what we can do,” Ed recited before continuing with a knowing tone, “Unless this is a certain soldier out in the middle of nowhere up North who received his package and decided to give me a call.”

Roy wasn’t one you would call a religious man, but he considered praying for patience. “Hello, Edward,” he conceded.

“Fuck… holy fuck Roy,” Ed said with the sort of casual blasphemy only he would dare. There was a shuffling on the other end of the line. “You actually called.”

“Time hasn’t made you any less explicit,” Roy teased. He imagined a metal middle finger jerked at him in return.

“It’s been what? A month?” Ed snorted, “If my cursing hasn’t changed since I was a kid then a month has no chance of changing it.”

He grinned and propped his head up with his hand. “You’re right about that.” He looked around the room for something to focus on, landing on Ed’s letter. “How are you?” The question came out softer than he’d like, but it’s what he meant.

Ed made a noncommittal noise. “It’s weird. The old lady and Winry keep treating me like I’m still a little kid. Maybe it’s because they didn’t get to see me grow up over the last two years. But they’re doing their best to adjust.”

Roy hummed in understanding. “It’s not dissimilar to a person coming back from deployment. They know the person who left, not necessarily the person who comes back.”

“Yeah, I guess… It’s still taking some getting used to. How come you didn’t treat me like I was the teen you last saw?”

“You’re a brat, but it was easy to see you’d changed.” That golden hair pulled back into a ponytail instead of his signature braid. The broad shoulders that filled out his brown trenchcoat and the bookish outfit underneath. He might mourn the loss of the man’s leather pants, but he looked every inch of the man he’d become. His thoughts made him brave. “You’ve become quite the looker, Ed.”

A sputter from the other line had Roy chuckling into his shoulder. It’s enchanting to hear Ed’s embarrassment over the phone and a longing yawned in his chest to see the ruby flush against the man’s cheeks. To see the way he’d turn incredulous eyes to gawk at Roy like he’d spoken gibberish. To see Ed fight the smile that’d reveal his teeth in joy instead of a threat.

He just wanted Ed. Here, with him. Or him with Ed. Together.

Glettner was more aware of Roy’s feelings than he was.

“-up! I hope you’re not mocking me you ass,” Ed grumbleing finally making it through Roy’s thoughts.

“I’m not mocking you, you really are beautiful.”

The line remained silent for a stretch and Roy wondered briefly if he’d pushed Ed a little too much. That he’d made the man uncomfortable with his sudden forwardness.

“You look pretty good yourself,” Ed mumbled.

His heart skipped a beat in his chest and his cheeks grew warm. “Not much to look at compared to you,” Roy managed to say.

“Yeah, okay, sure,” the eye roll unmistakably tacked onto the statement. “I’m guessing you couldn’t sleep.”

“Couldn’t I have called you because I wanted to hear your voice?”

Ed actually laughed at that. “You could and I’m flattered, bastard, but I can hear the exhaustion in your voice.”

“Alright, yes I can’t sleep.”

“What do you want me to do about that?”

What indeed. He already felt better after hearing Ed’s voice so perhaps more of that? “Tell me about your day.”

“As long as you're willing to pay anything the Rockbell’s might be charged for the long-distance call, I’ll talk all night.”

“Just until I fall asleep should do the trick.”

“Well get comfy and I’ll tell you about my return to city hall.”

Roy settled as comfortably as he could on his couch and closed his eyes, letting himself drift upon the lilts and steadiness of Ed’s voice.

As they reach the two-month mark of their separation, Roy was getting antsy. His transfer back to Central seemed to be in a stalemate. Too much silence from both sides for Roy’s patience to tolerate. He already sent another letter to Ed to inform him that he still didn’t have a timeframe for his return.

With no set date for his relocation, he got wrapped up in his thoughts. The snow bit angrily at his cheeks and he’d started moving his post office trips to every three days because he couldn’t get his body to plow through the snow. The cabin’s walls were thin and the flames fanned uselessly in the fireplace no matter how close Roy put himself to the heat source.

Loneliness he’d been able to ignore for years was near intolerable now. He’d talked to his team, reconnected with Riza, or at least started mending the relationship that’d been damaged in the wake of Bradley’s defeat and the loss of his eye.

But ever since his realization during the phone call with Ed, nothing seemed to fill the Ed-sized space in his heart. He pondered on the feelings he’d developed for Ed, questioned why he loves him but only came up with Ed himself as the reason.

He took a sip of his tea when he heard a knock on his door.

The suddenness of the noise was enough to startle him into almost dropping his mug and he turned a wary eye to his door. He didn’t get visitors, not out here. The only time anyone had visited him it’d been about the strange phenomenon that ultimately led to Ed returning home to them.

He doubted something that severe would pop-up again in such a short span of time, but stranger things had happened so he couldn’t rule out the possibility.

Slipping on his gloves, he cautiously approached the door. He waited until he heard another knock before he openned the door, his fingers poised to snap.

And there’s Ed.

Snow and ice clung to his clothes and he noted that Ed’s trench coat seemed to now be lined with a fur of some kind. He took in Ed’s wind-chafed skin and red nose, saw the ice crystals that had attempted to attach themselves to his lashes.

This couldn’t be real. He must’ve fallen asleep and he’s dreaming. He had to be.

Except Ed was waving his hand obnoxiously in his face, grinning at him with the pride of a show dog. “You still in there or did I break you?” Ed asked.

He gaped uselessly at the figure that stood in front of him. “Ed?” He rasped, still not believing his eyes.

“The one and only.” He tilted his head to the side, his smile going lazy. “Are you gonna make me stay out here much longer? Because I’m pretty sure my toes have fucking frozen off and I only have five. I really can’t lose them.”

Roy snapped his jaw shut with a click and stepped back to let Ed in. “Yeah, of course, come in.”

Ed blustered in with all the hesitation of a tornado, stripping out of his dripping coat and unwinding the scarf from around his neck, hanging both over his kitchen table.

“Thank fuck you have a fireplace,” Ed grunted, holding both of his hands out towards the heat source. “If Winry and Granny hadn’t hooked me up with this new automail I would’ve really gotten frostbite.”

Roy nodded absent-mindedly, still stuck on the reality that Ed was here in his cabin. “How-How did you get here?”

Ed’s forehead furrowed. “Well after I took a train up here I asked around if anyone knew where I’d find a soldier with an eyepatch, the postman pointed me in the right direction.” He shrugged. “Then I walked here.”

He'd have to thank Glettner the next time he saw him. Or avoid him at all cost because the man was never going to let him live this down. He probably felt like he was some sort of matchmaker, guaranteeing Ed made it to him.

“Through all the snow?”

The man squinted at him. “Yes?” It came out as a question more than an answer. “Are you okay? You’re really stuck on this whole ‘Ed’s here with me’ thing.”

And what’s he supposed to say to that? That he’s still convinced that this could only be a dream because this sort of thing doesn’t happen to him. “I just never expected you to come here.”

He gets a bemused expression from Ed for that. “Why not? I got your letter.” He huffed and lounged on his couch. “So they can’t even give you a date?”

He shook his head. “Not now, maybe in a week or two, I’ll get an answer from them.” Roy shuffled awkwardly for a moment trying to decide what to say. “Do you want some tea?”

Ed snorted, his nose crinkling. “I could go for some tea, but I’m fine with something stronger if you've got it.”

He cocked his head to the side and crossed his arms. “Don’t you mean if I’m feeling generous?”

“Nope,” Ed chimed.

“Let’s start with tea,” Roy snagged the only other mug he owned and poured Ed a cup, “get you warm first. After that?” He handed the mug to Ed who took it gratefully. “We’ll see about alcohol.”

Humming in agreement Ed took an aborted sip, cursing as the liquid scorched his tongue. “Fuck, dammit you could’ve warned me it was this hot,” Ed grumbled, glaring at his mug.

“I didn’t know you were expecting cold tea.”

“Bastard.”

“Brat.”

The jibes were gentle despite themselves and Roy felt the familiar contentment in his being that he’d been getting when he was with Ed in any capacity. Whether it’s a phone call or in-person or even in a letter. Ed remained a stained glass masterpiece in his heart.

They sat in campanionable silence. The flickering of the fireplace casted a red glow around the room except for Ed. Ed’s always an exception. Instead of the red overlay across Ed, he glowed gold.

His skin -- tanned and scarred-- reminded Roy of wedding rings and sun-warmed bronze. His eyes of finely crafted jewelry and the lace-gold details in famous paintings from the west. And his hair. The finest silk, bundled into a ponytail that trailed to at least the bottom of his shoulder blades.

He desperately wanted to say something to hear more of Ed’s voice. A voice that had haunted his mind for the past two years. A desperation to take, take, take until he had all of Ed.

“I didn’t get to say this before,” Ed said, finally breaking their silence. “But I’m a fan of the eyepatch.”

From anyone else, he would’ve ignored the comment, but Roy knew that Ed was being serious right now. “It was a necessity after Bradley got it,” Roy said, setting his cup down and bringing a hand to the patch. “It isn’t a pretty sight, even Hawkeye had trouble looking at it.”

“I doubt that,” Ed took another sip from his drink, “if anything she probably still feels guilty that you lost it at all.”

He made a noncommittal noise. “No one should feel guilty about this, I got it taking Bradley down. And I survived.”

“You did.” Ed grinned at him. “And I think the patch makes you look rugged.”

Roy snorted and quirked a brow at him. “Sure that’s not just from living out here for the past two years?”

Ed’s eyes rolled so hard that Roy’s surprised they didn’t just pop out of his skull. “You haven’t grown any stupid facial hair yet so I’d say it’s the patch.”

“You don’t think I’d look good with facial hair?”

The tips of Ed’s ears flushed. “I didn’t say that,” he mumbled, “I am saying you’d look god awful with a moustache.”

There is a niggling temptation to grow one just to get on Ed's nerves but he pushed that thought aside. He heaved a dramatic sigh. "I suppose I'll refrain for now."

Ed laughed and it reverberated through him with the warmth of an embrace. He wanted to bottle the noise up and tuck it into the spaces between his ribs. Roy couldn't remember the last time he felt this content.

The other man was still looking at him when he focused back on their conversation. "Can I see it?"

Roy’s face closed off and he shifted awkwardly on the couch. “You… you want to see it?” He clarified because surely he'd heard wrong.

Ed shrugged and scooted a little closer. “Why wouldn’t I?”

He asked like it should be obvious to Roy, but doesn’t comment on it. Roy couldn't bring himself to deny Ed something that Roy was readily willing to give. Wanted to give. And maybe there's a small part of him that wanted to show someone. To not have someone shy away from the topic. To look at all of him now and not who he was before.

Maybe he didn't just leave Central because he wanted to still help his country through a corrupt system.

Maybe he was tired of hiding.

He reached his hand up towards the strings that held his eyepatch in place but hesitates. "Are you sure you want to see it?" He wondered if he would want to see it if this was someone else. He knew for sure that he’d want to see Ed. Roy swore to himself that he’d never hesitate to look at Ed’s scars, not a single one of them would be skipped by his eyes.

Ed's eyes softened and he moved himself closer to Roy. They were barely a foot away from the other, their knees knocking together. The solid press of Ed’s automail knee against his own was surprisingly grounding. He wonderd if anyone else felt this way about Ed’s prosthetic limbs.

Ed didn't hesitate when he cupped Roy's face with his metal hand. He expected the harsh metal to be icy to the touch – unlike his leg that was still covered by the thick material of Ed’s pants – but it was heat-licked by the fire. Roy couldn't help but lean into the touch with a pleased sigh.

Mirth twinkled in Ed's eyes like honeyed gold. He ran his thumb along the bottom edge of his eyepatch. "I'm sure."

I want to see you. That’s what Roy heard inbetween Ed’s words. It didn't need to be said. Ed had already proven his surety with his touch, but it comforted Roy to hear it all the same.

The satin ties of his eyepatch were easy enough to undo after he loosened the knot and soon the patch was fluttering down into his lap. He kept the eye closed for now, letting Ed see the mess of scars from the enucleation and trauma from Bradley’s blade. He watched Ed’s face for any reaction through his good eye, watching as he took in his face as a whole.

The first brush of Ed’s metal hand on the scars had him letting out a shuddering breath. His heart was pounding erratically in his chest and he couldn’t stop his sudden panic. It’s just Ed. Edward was the only one here with him. It’s just them. Together. Here. Now and not then. This steel was warm and nothing like the biting edge of a blade.

A second hand joined the first, this one with calluses and worn nails that worked their way through his hair. Instantly, he found himself relaxing under the ministrations of Ed’s talented fingers. Losing time or just forgetting everything that wassn’t Edward Elric.

“Come on, lemme see those eyes of yours, Colonel Bastard,” Ed urged, his thumb teasing along Roy’s cheekbone.

Despite himself, Roy found himself smiling. “Not a colonel anymore, Fullmetal,” he reminded Ed, “and I only have one eye.”

“Not Fullmetal anymore, Roy.”

He could hear his name on Ed’s lips for the rest of his life and Roy would never stop feeling his heart skip a beat. “Ed.”

Slowly, he opened both of his eyes and went back to watching Ed’s face. The breath hitched in Ed’s lungs for only a second before it settled back to normal. Roy couldn’t blame him. The clear conformer that prevented his eyelid from collapsing into the socket gave a clear view of the hollow interior. He hadn’t bothered getting a prosthetic eye, not when he’d been out here by himself for so long. His doctors still weren’t sure when he would even be able to wear one given the damage done to his eyelid and ocular cavity.

Instead of the multitude of reactions that Roy had prepared himself for, Ed gave him a gentle smile and cupped his face with both hands. “There you are.”

“How do I look?” Roy asked as though he couldn’t see the way Ed looks at him.

Maybe he couldn’t, because there’s a touch of uncertainty to Roy’s question that he couldn’t write off. Whether it’s over the way the scars mar his handsome face or over what Ed might think about his appearance, Roy couldn’t decide.

“Like you can take on the world,” Ed said without hesitation.

Stealing himself, Roy closed the distance between them and sealed their mouths together. Ed’s lips are chapped from his journey through the snow, but warm and solid against his own. He didn’t intensify the kiss, keeping it chaste since Ed hadn’t started to kiss him back.

Reluctantly, he pulled away from Ed trying to catch the younger man’s eyes. Did he ruin this? “Ed?”

“Kiss me again,” Ed ordered but didn’t bother waiting for Roy to act, instead grabbing two handfuls of his shirt and smashing their lips together.

It’s messy, too much tongue and their teeth clack painfully against each other like Ed wanted to devour him, but he dived right in. He took control of the kiss, guiding Ed’s lips to slide against his own at a more sedate pace. The corners of his mouth turned up when Ed sighed against his mouth, a near-silent moan escaping him.

Roy trailed a hand up Ed’s back until he reached the end of the man’s ponytail. He wrapped the silken strands around his fingers and tugged lightly. Ed splayed his hands against the plains of his chest, releasing his shirt from his grasp.

When he found himself desperate for oxygen, he pulled away once more. Ed made a displeased groan but sat back enough to stare at Roy.

The affection and happiness that sparkled in Ed’s eyes was overwhelming and he couldn’t help but tell Ed exactly how he felt. “I think I love you,” Roy whispered.

Ed smiled back at him, his lips kiss-bruised and tempting. “Why do you think I’m here, Roy?”

He didn’t have to say it because Ed always showed you how he felt. So when Ed tilted his head back, Roy capitulates to the silent request, sealing their mouths together again.

A flame captured by the glint of gold and steel.

#fmasecretsanta2020 #RoyEd #fma 03 #falling in love #secret santa #fma #fanfic #royed fic #roy's eyepatch as a plot point #eye trauma is mentioned but very briefly and it doesn't mention any blood #letter writing as a wooing tactic #Roy is PINING #Ed is PINING #They're idiots in love until they aren't #Ed's CoS outfit #conqueror of shamballa and end of 03 mentioned #Glettner is any RoyEd fan really #my fic #my fanfic

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