#fmaauweek2017

[strawbebehmod]

FMA AU Week Day 7 Theme T: If the bonus comics were canon… In this case, if the homunculi knew about roy mustang’s rap and used it against him as blackmail.

Sorry Roy. This is what you get for creating that horrible thing.

[egoiistas]

FMA AU Week 2017 Theme S:

Noir

“You won’t want to cross Mustang. He’s got a sharpshooter as deadly as she is beautiful.”

[paybackraid]

Safe and Sound

FMA AU Week Day 2 Prompt D: Born Different

Words: 2,385

For this prompt I chose to do a stereotypical Ishvalan Elric au. Based in the time of the Civil War, not too long after the state alchemists were deployed. Ed gets a little mouthy with an Amestrian officer and gets taken as an example. This is a teaser to the fic I will (hopefully) be writing for it.

Also Ed is totally OOC, but in his defense he’s five and has been taken from home against his will.

I’m hoping to start posting the fic come October, September if I’m lucky, so keep an eye out for it! :0

Fires burned around the little corner of a shack Roy had scouted out, the only opening pointing mercifully toward the desert. He was slumped against the cool brick wall, looking out toward the barren, endless desert. They had been lucky so far--no Ishvalan scouts had found them, nor had any Amestrian squads. It was only a matter of time before either group found them and one--perhaps both--of them were executed.

“Roy?”

The voice jerked his thoughts from within and his gaze from without. He glanced toward his companion, who watched him with huge red eyes. “What, Ed?”

“Are you okay, Roy? D’you need some water?” The tiny child that Roy was risking his life for held out the canteen, shaking it. It was nearly empty; Roy hadn’t found anywhere to refill since they’d left. Of course, they were traveling in a desert so it wasn’t that much of a surprise.

“Did you get your fill?” Roy asked, sliding down until he sat on the sand. “I’ll drink when you’re finished.”

Ed considered the canteen, swishing it around, then tossed back a little bit more before he handed it to Roy. “There, you have the rest. We’re close to the Kanda district, I think, we can fill up there.”

Roy snorted humorlessly and took the canteen from the kid. As if a group of Ishvalans would allow him, a member of the same military that was slaughtering their own people, to refill his life-giving water. He tossed back his head and drained the canteen, glaring at it to will water back in.

The reason they were in the middle of a war zone in this godforsaken desert, alone, was for the safety of his little companion. Ed was a full Ishvalan child—white hair and red eyes and everything. He also had a mouth that could make a sailor blush, as was reported by the sect who stole him from his home to “teach him about his betters”. They had raided a small neighborhood in the district of Kanda and had stormed into a “wealthy looking home”, only to discover a mother and her two sons. One child had been quiet, while the other had started spouting off remarks about “dirty Amestrians” and “Mom just cleaned!” and “stay away from here!” He spoke with the temper of an unruly drunk man and the language of someone two or three times his age, who had possibly just discovered the proper—or semi-proper—use of some coarse words.

It had been Kimblee’s squad who had led the way into that district and had been unamused by the kid’s bursts of energy and anger, Kimblee’s squad who had grabbed the child and dragged him across the desert to home base, where they presented him to the general. After that, it had been the rest of the battalion stationed there who had succumbed the kid to worse.

Roy hadn’t been there at the time, he was out on duty with Hughes, Hawkeye, and their company. So he had been pretty surprised to find an Ishvalan kid, no more than five, tied to a pole outside of the wash station. His shirt had been removed, god only knew for what reason, and he was left to roast out in the beating sun. He was covered in sand and saliva, having been kicked around and spat on, and no doubt at least a few of the less stable officers or soldiers had gotten a little physical with him, at least judging by the swollen lip.

Later that evening, following the declaration that “I didn’t sign onto the military to watch a little kid get kicked around for shits and giggles,” Roy dragged his sleep sack and a collection of rations he had collected from his, Hughes, and Hawkeye’s plates over to the kid. He fed and watered him, covered him with his sleep sack, and then sat out with him until he fell asleep.

The following evening, when he returned to camp, he found the kid mistreated even worse. His lip was split and he had a bloody nose, and he looked half-glazed over when Roy approached him.

Roy vowed then and there to get the kid out and back home. It didn’t matter that Roy was Amestrian, and it didn’t matter that this kid was Ishvalan. It didn’t matter that they were enemies. The kid, Ed he would later find out, was only a child who had been separated from his parents. And Roy, ever a bleeding heart, couldn’t stand by.

Two days later, he’d gotten attached to the kid and Ed, bless his little heart, had gotten attached to the murderer of his own people.

“Ed?”

Ed turned up at him, swinging his head around. His eyes were wide with curiosity; in the past two days, Ed had taken to listening to everything that Roy said sitting at the metaphorical edge of his seat.

Roy sighed and grabbed at the pack he’d dropped, unrolling his sleep sack. “Come tuck in, it’s late and we need to move early tomorrow.”

Ed frowned and looked to the sack, then he yawned and stretched his toes a little. “You tuck in too?”

“Ahhh, not yet. I’ll keep watch a little longer. You need a little more sleep than I do.”

Ed eyed him for a moment, then shrugged and crawled into the sleep sack. He squished himself against the very edge as he had done every night to let Roy in, then fell silent.

There was an explosion far in the distance. Roy couldn't see the wreckage of it, not even a flare of light in their little safe spot. But he could hear it, as well as the cries of a people who did not—did not—deserve what their own military was doing to them.

A spatter of gunfire had Ed wincing. He squeezed his eyes shut to try and block it out, but the noise flowed in all the same.

The more they ran, the closer it all seemed to get—all the fighting and screaming, all the shooting and dying. Even just before they found this safe spot, they had been chased out of one by an approaching Amestrian unit. It had been sheer dumb luck alone that allowed Ed to notice that something was off so they could get moving. If they had been even five minutes later, Roy could have been executed for treason (if some people had their way), and Ed for his skin.

Roy had only been so lucky to find this place and heft Ed through the window in time, then follow him through and press him back into the corner. Had only been so lucky that Roy’s dark uniform had blended into the darkness so well that when an Amestrian scout had done a quick cursory check, they had noticed nothing in the shadow.

They had been lucky so far, so it was only a matter of time before their luck ran out.

Roy could only hope that he could get Ed home before that happened.

The spatter of gunfire became Ed’s lullaby—had been Ed’s lullaby for the past two days if not since the start of the war. It didn’t do a very good job of putting him to sleep, but at least the past few nIghts, his fear had worn him out and put him to sleep eventually. Roy was pretty sure his paranoia was rubbing off on the kid, the way his eyes would dart from entryway to entryway, waiting for some bad person to spring through and kill them. The first night it had taken Ed two hours to fall asleep. The night before this, Roy had decided to try rubbing his back, and that time was cut in half. But they hadn’t been so close to the battlefield then, Roy hadn’t been able to hear the staccato of his heartbeat with each quick blast of an automatic.

The kid would never get to sleep. Roy certainly wouldn’t.

Quiet descended over them as Roy mentally willed Ed to rest, only broken by the occasional explosion or gun spatter of a raid continued.

“...Roy…?”

Roy sighed. He wasn’t a praying man (besides what Ed wanted him to try, and even then he had only mimicked the action), but still he prayed for Ed to find sleep so they could get moving early. Maybe rubbing his back again would help.

“What, Ed? You need to stay quiet, or they might catch us.” He didn’t specify which ‘they’ he meant, because he didn’t know. He feared either ‘they’, and he was fairly sure Ed was starting to, as well.

Ed sniffed and sat up, fiddling with the thin cloth. “...Roy, I’m afraid. We’re not making it home, are we? They’re so close.”

Roy’s eyes widened a little, startled by the very different response compared to that afternoon’s “we’ll be there soon, and they’ll help us!”

“The bad guns are gonna kill us ‘fore we get there, won’t they?” Ed said, watching him, then turned his head away as though he feared the response.

“...No,” Roy said softly, looking out to the desert sand. “No, they won’t. I told you I would get you home, and I will. I swear it.”

Ed looked back his way and shook his head.

“Yes. You’re going to be fine. You’re going to see your mom and your brother again, no matter what. Okay?”

“How do you know?”

“I… am an adult, and you need to trust adults who want what’s good for you. I’ll get you home, safe and sound. I swear it.”

Ed still seemed reluctant to believe him, watching him with huge eyes.

Roy sighed and reached for the sleep sack. He pulled it a little closer, plucked Ed right up out of it, and pulled him into his arms. “I swear I will. You just have to trust me.”

Ed sniffed unexpectedly, squeaking at the movement, then looked up to his companion. Roy hadn’t yet held him—not like this. Even when they had found a pile of Ishvalan bodies treated like trash, Roy had held him against his side, hand in his messy white hair.

Further to Ed’s surprise, when Ed calmed in his grip, Roy opened his mouth and started to sing.

Roy knew he was no singer, had been told by his sisters often enough. It was all he could think of to do, though, maybe to block out the sounds of the war on the other side of the wall.

The song was from his own native home. He had been born in Amestris and was a full-blooded, bled green and white blood Amestrian, but his mother had come directly from Xing. The song was a lullaby she had sung to him before her tragic passing when he was five. He didn’t know not a lick of Xingese, and couldn’t translate the song for the life of him, and yet, on nights when he couldn’t sleep—nightmares or otherwise—he would sing this song to himself and imagine her, and it would ease him into rest. It meant something else to Roy than it possibly could to Ed, but it had always helped Roy, and it was worth a shot.

The rumble of his voice actually soothed Ed’s fears, if only momentarily. Roy singing his Xingese song was nothing like Mom singing her Ishvalan song, but the soft baritone was gentle and put him at ease anyway. His worried thoughts hid away in the back of his mind as he leaned his head on Roy’s chest and listened to the hard beat of his heart. A small part of him, very small, wondered if this was what having a big brother felt like.

The cool night air and Roy’s soft words eventually soothed his racing thoughts and put him more at ease than he felt he had been in a long time.

When Roy finished singing, he looked to his little companion and smiled. He laid fast asleep against his chest, looking utterly serene. He slept on, even as the world was ravaged around him. If Ed could sleep against the body of a killer—well, maybe things weren’t as bad as he thought they were.

He didn’t want to disturb Ed, so he tugged open the sleep sack and slid inside, zipping it around them so they could share in its safety and warmth. He leaned his head on the ground and started stroking Ed’s back, singing the song again under his breath.

Roy had known from the very beginning being shipped out to Ishval would change him, this entire war would contort and misshape him in ways that could never be undone. He had known it from the moment he had donned his uniform. In a matter of months, no, just a week after being shipped out, he had become a monster, and had done horrible things that he would never be able to rid himself of.

Despite all of that, despite all of his mistakes, all of the misery and pain he had caused, something out there still allowed him to hold onto a child who put his entire trust in him, who knew he would keep him safe even though Ed was Ishvalan and Roy was tasked with killing every Ishvalan in sight. Ed could still sleep soundly on him and be put to sleep by Roy’s voice and Roy’s lullaby. Something out there still allowed him this small semblance of peace, this oasis in a twisted world filled with pain and death.

Roy closed his eyes and allowed the thought of his mother and her voice to send him drifting toward peaceful sleep.

He vowed to himself that he would see Ed returned home, safe and sound in his mother’s arms, whatever that meant would happen to him. If he could save just one person, just one child from misery, then he could begin to think that in the afterlife, if it even existed as Ed insisted, even he could be saved.

No, saving just one boy like Ed wouldn’t save him. It wouldn’t clear his head and heart of the horrors of this war. But, he figured, it was a step in the right direction.

All this wasn’t redemption, and he dared not wish that it could be.

But it was a start. 

[throwaninkpot]

FMA AU Week, Day 7

Late posting of Day 3′s theme “AU where everything is the same but...”

...Dolcetto lives. Inspired by @strawbebehmod ‘s Guard Dog AU. I really didn’t know how to end this, and I think that shows. But I hope y’all enjoy! If liked it or have some critique, lemme know!

Warnings: off-screen deaths, blood mentions...and Greed says “pissant”, which I’m not entirely sure if it could be considered a bad word or not.

The funny thing was, Dolcetto hadn’t even been his real name. He had taken a new name after the transmutation, when he and the others were freed from the labs by Greed. As far as he knew, all of them had. (Some wanted to separate themselves from the lives they’d had before; some had forgotten their old names, anyway.)

Greed was indirectly to blame. He’d brought the rag-tag gaggle of chimeras into the building where they had set up camp before the Devil’s Nest, and while they all stood around uncertainly, he had jumped up to stand on a table.

“Alright, listen, some rules for my new possessions. Yes, you lot, who else is there?” He sighed as some of the group in front of him stopped craning their heads in search of the objects he had been addressing. “I don’t care who you were before or what kind of lives you lived. You’re mine now. This is your home, this is your life. No objections. Second, I don’t know what you eat, so one of you probably needs to make a grocery run.”

A new life. It made sense to pick a new name to with it; there would be no use in dragging something around that would only remind Dolcetto of something that was gone and over with. So when Greed asked his name, he lifted the word “Dolcetto” off of an alcohol bottle sitting on a counter, and didn’t look back.

And now here here was, on his third name. Tony Ramono. It would take some getting used to.

As an unspoken rule, all of them in Greed’s gang had never talked about the labs, except to joke. What else was there for them to do about it? It was laugh, or lose themselves dwelling on something they couldn’t change.

“At least the scientists gave us decent food,” one of them would complain, when it was Martel’s turn to cook dinner again.

Occasionally, there were bottomless promises of going back. They’d give twice what they’d gotten back to those scientists, those alchemists—the entire military, even. Mostly, it was Martel who did this. She never brought the notion up around Greed. They all knew the thought of taking on the government in retribution was ridiculous, a pipe-dream at best; Greed would have tried to pull it off.

Bido had liked to say that, since they’d hit rock bottom years ago, the only place they could go now was up. Right? Dolcetto used to laugh and chime in, “Yeah, nothin’ but good times ahead.”

Lies, all of it. Things could have most certainly become worse for them—and did, which Dolcetto knew all too well.

None of it had been worse than waking up and discovering all his friends had been killed.

The last thing he remembered was the facing off against that armor kid’s brother. It had been more of a challenge than he expected; the runt got a hit on him, and Dolcetto went flying back into the wall. He must have been knocked unconscious. Later, he was pulled awake by the scent of blood assaulting his nose. He bolted up, groaning at the pain the movement sent flooding through his head. The room around him was a wreck, with holes broken through the walls, and it had been abandoned.

When Dolcetto ventured out, following the smell, he found them. Roa. Ulchi. Martel. He might forget the sight, but the smell of their death would haunt him forever.

There were still soldiers up above their hideout. He could hear them—discussing the raid, complaining about having to gather all the dead up and burn the bodies.

Dolcetto wanted to attack them, kill them, desperately wanted to seek revenge for his friends, but he was in no condition for that. He could barely walk without emptying his stomach from the pain in his head and the stench. The gash on his head was still bleeding, adding more blood to what covered the left side of his face.

So he fled. “Like a dog with your tail between your legs,” he almost heard Martel taunt. He abandoned his friends’ bodies and ran and hid like the coward he was.

The East had its perks.

It was sheep country, mainly, and of little interest to the higher machinations of the government and military. It’s quiet hills and villages made for a good place to lay low and stay over-looked.

When Tony Ramono, an immigrant from Aerugo, moved into a small town, there was only a small stir of attention from the people of the town. He was a newcomer, which made him interesting, but there was no suspicion or danger in their gazes.

Dolcetto found work easily enough. It was shearing season, and help was in high demand. He took odd jobs, here and there, and then a position watching one farmer’s flock.

A shepherd. If Greed and the others could have seen him, they would have never let him live that down. While he was in the hills, he imagined all the ribbing they would have given him—Martel very seriously asking if he had sheep dogs in his heritage, Greed grinning and shooting off herding commands to him. They would have been unbearable and irritating, and Dolcetto would have given anything to hear them tease him.

He tried not to think about that. He focused on his job, on his day to day life. And he liked the job well enough, and there were surely worse towns he could have chosen to live in. So Dolcetto kept his head down, did his job, and got by. He wasn’t sure what else he intended to do besides that—getting by, surviving. What was there for him to do? Of course, there was the option of seeking revenge  on the military for the raid at the Devil’s Nest. He could find the ones who killed his friends. He certainly wouldn’t live to enjoy that satisfaction, but it would mean something for his loyalty, to go out in a blaze of vengeance like that.

When he thought about that, Dolcetto was never sure whether he was actually considering that possibility or not.

On the way home one day, making his way through the crowd of the market, his nose caught a whiff of something.  It’s familiar. A scent he knows, but...it’s distorted, somehow. Mingled with the scent of someone else—someone unfamiliar—so that it was almost covered up. Dolcetto must have been crazy, and yet—and yet, it almost reminded him of…

He couldn’t help himself. He veered off hi path, following his nose. It lead him further into the market, down another street, and out the other end of an alleyway. A man in a long dark coat stood with his back to Dolcetto, and it was from him that the scent came.

Dolcetto hesitated. The man certainly didn’t look like him. He was tall, slender, and wore his long hair pulled up in a ponytail.

Cautiously, he took a step towards the stranger.

Before he could take another, the stranger had stiffened and then turned around to face him. His eyes met Dolcetto’s—and narrowed.

Dolcgetto didn’t see the stranger move, only felt the push of a hand against his collar, and the pain of hitting the hard stone wall when he was shoved back into the alley he had just stepped out of. He sucked in a choked gasp.

The stranger’s hand gripped the fabric of his shirt at the neck, and growled at him, “What are you doing here? You think this is funny, Envy? You think you can get to me?”

Dolcetto raised his hands and tugged at the man’s arm, in an attempt to free himself. “Wha—“

“Well, it won’t work!” the man hissed. “I’ll kill you myself. I’ll crush your Stone under my shoe, and then we’ll see how you like that.”

“Not Envy!” Dolcetto gasped out. “I’m not a homunculous!”

He knew about the Homunculi. Greed had explained to all of them about his “siblings” and Father, in case any of them ever would have come looking for trouble.

The hand suddenly released Dolcetto, and the man took a step back. He stared at Dolcetto for a long moment.

Then, he spoke again. “Dolcetto?”

The man knew his name. The man knew Dolcetto’s name, knew about homunculi, wore Greed’s scent…. Dolcetto stared at him, bewildered.

The man shook his head and let out a laugh. “What are you doing here?” he repeated himself from earlier, in a very different tone. A disbelieving smile slipped across his face. “You...you chimeras are a real pesky bunch, you know. I can’t do anything to get rid of you.”

Dolcetto thought, distantly, through the fog of disbelief, that it almost sounded like the man was fighting tears. The man continued to talk, but Dolcetto couldn’t hear what the man was saying. He was caught staring at the strange face wearing a familiar grin.

“Greed?” he asked hoarsely.

Greed laughed again. “Who else, genius?”

A concerned look passed over his face when Dolcetto continued gaping at him. “Hey, you okay?”

“How? You’re not...but...you are? Uhh?”

“Huh?”

“Not dead?” Dolcetto managed.

“Oh. Ha, as if I’d let those pissants keep me down. This is the new and improved Greed!”

His thoughts tumbled in his head, as Dolcetto tried to fight this new reality with his memories of the death in the Devil’s Nest. They’d been dead. He’d smelled the death and blood—but here was Greed, well and alive and in a new body, somehow, but alive nevertheless. Could the others…. No. He’d seen their bodies. (Not Greed’s body, though, Dolcetto realized with a start.)

Greed said something. Still lost in his thoughts, Dolcetto didn’t catch it, and he startled when Greed turned around and started walking away, back to the street.

Dolcetto stared dumbly after him.

Over his shoulder, still walking, Greed called, “You coming?”

Dolcetto trailed after, as Greed lead him through town, to a small hovel of a hotel at the edge of the buildings. It wasn’t the sort of place he would have expected Greed to willingly stay in.

Inside, he was brought to a room with two other people. Even before Greed introduced them as chimeras, Dolcetto knew what they were. They had that animal smell about them.

“So here’s the new member of my group. You’re all chimeras, so you should get along, right?”

Dolcetto folded his arms and eyed the two, who did the same to him. “Dolcetto,” he said, inclining his head a little in introduction.”

“Heinkel.”

“Darius.”

“Great,” Greed said, “we’re all friends. Hey, where’d that kid go?”

Before either Darius or Heinkel could answer, the door to the room swung open. Dolcetto spun around, half reaching for the swords he still expected to find on his back. In the doorway stood a young with bright gold hair, who Dolcetto easily recognized.

“You,” he exclaimed, and then realized that Whashisname Elric (Al? Alfred?) had said the same thing.

“You’re one of those jerks who kidnapped Al!” the kid all but shouted, glaring at him

(So Al wasn’t his name.)

“You mean that armor kid?” Dolcetto asked, glancing at Greed. Greed was no help; he was trying to get past the two chimeras who were blocking the phone, arguing about ordering room service. “What are you even doing here?”

“Me? What are you doing here?

Dolcetto cursed under his breath, running a hand through his hair. “I...don’t even know.” He looked back up to find himself under the scrutinizing gaze of Elric’s disconcertingly golden eyes.

“I thought you were...” the kid trailed off.

“Listen, I’ll explain what’s happened to me, if you tell me what in Amestris is going on here,” Dolcetto offered, desperately wanting to understand. He cursed again. “I don’t even know how Greed is still alive.”

The Elric kid let out a short, half-hearted laugh. “Sure. It’s a deal.”

Between discovering Greed was alive, learning that soon the entire country would have their souls sucked from them through a giant alchemic transmutation, and the general way his life had been turned upside down in the last two hours, Dolcetto thought he was handling things well.

“Hey, don’t go passing out! If you fall, I’m not rushing over to catch you.”

“I’m fine,” Dolcetto mumbled. “Just...need a second.”

He lifted himself from where he was bent over, hands on his knees, to peer up at the Elric-Fullmetal-whateverhisname kid. “Is there anything else you need to tell me?”

Elric shrugged. “You should meet Ling, but that’ll have to wait until you’re not gonna faint from shock.”

Dolcetto tried not to be worried about who this “Ling” character might be. He shook his head. “Okay. Whatever.”

He reached for the bottle Greed had ordered after he won the argument for room service, and poured himself a glass. He offered Elric one as well, but the kid shook his head.

“So...you really think this will work? Taking on Father and his cronies?”

Sighing, Elric said, “Look. I know Greed’s just taken it for granted that you’re going to join us…. But, you really don’t have to stick around. This is going to be the most dangerous thing I’ve ever done—and that says something. And…no, I don’t even know if it will work. I don’t know.”

The kid was speaking around it, like he was afraid to say the words out loud, but Dolcetto could hear what he meant clearly. We’re probably all going to die.

He considered for a moment. His eyes wandered around the room, falling on Greed where he still stood arguing with the other two chimeras. “No, I’m in,” he said.

Greed was the only thing he had left. Not quite the same Greed, but it was still him. And as crazy and doomed as their plans for this Promised Day thing might be, if it meant a chance at saving the world and taking down the rotten monsters responsible for everything—everything—then there was no way Dolcetto could walk away.

[purging-foxfire]

Prompt: Theme Q: The secret

Length: 637

Notes: Short, but hey, let’s appreciate the short things (and people coughEdcough) in life.

~*~

“Don’t worry, Al.”

“We’re going to get your body back, I’m sure of it!”

“I’ll definitely get your body back!”

Edward quietly hummed as melody, as he walked through some corridors. In his left hand was the report the colonel wanted – he wrote it last night, since he couldn’t sleep. Alphonse was in the library, waiting for him to return.

“Oh? You are the Fullmetal Alchemist, aren’t you?”

He turned around, and looked at some man in the uniform. If Edward could believe the badges that man wore, he was a general.

“And what if I am?”

His tone was cautious, since he didn’t talk a lot with military members outside Roy’s team. In fact, Roy made sure that Edward and his brother hadn’t much contact with anyone he didn’t trust -  and that was just fine with Edward. No matter how annoying it was, that the colonel thought he apparently needed to meddle with Ed’s choice of acquaintances, he appreciated it. After all, he didn’t really want to interact with everyone in the military. He was content with the few people he knew.

“Ah, I’m just surprised to be able to see you. I heard you’re not often here.”

Ed narrowed his eyes. “Yeah, that’s because Mustang sends me on a lot of missions…”

“Huh? You travel a lot then, don’t you?”

“Mhm, always.”

Then the general smiled, before laying his hand on Ed’s left shoulder.

“Isn’t that tiring? Don’t you want a break?”

Ed stiffened at the contact. “No, sir. I’m cont- “

“And I heard you fight a lot with you commanding officer?”

“Uh, yeah… but we do- “

“I always disliked Roy Mustang. A bit too arrogant, don’t you agree?”

What?

“And his behavior in general… he probably still doesn’t know how to handle prodigies like you.”

Wait…  

“In fact, I think you would be better off under someone other’s command… don’t you think so as well?”

… No way… he’s really trying to…

“Well? Aren’t you tired of him?”

… What an idiot.

“I’m sorry, sir, but I disagree.”

The general genuinely seemed surprised, and Ed wanted to scoff. How disgusting.

“Why, if I may ask?”

“That’s simple…”

My and Al’s… secret…

“… he is here.”

My and Al’s… trust.

“Huh?”

He’s always here.

“I have to go now.”

With that Ed turned around and walked away. He still had a report to deliver.

“You’re late, Fullmetal.”

“Sorry, I was stopped.”

Roy raised an eyebrow. “Were you now? Or did you try to skip again?”

Ed scoffed, as he stepped closer and threw his report on the colonel’s desk.

“No, some general stopped me.”

Roy froze in his action to grab the report. “What?”

“Didn’t you hear me? Some gen- “

“Who? Why?”

At first, he wanted to insult the other, but as he saw Roy’s serious look he decided not to.

“I don’t know, but he had brown hair and green eyes. And a mole beneath his right eye.”

Roy narrowed his eyes. “General Messler… what did he want from you?”

“Asked me indirectly to join you.”

Roy’s eyes widened and he hesitated for some minutes, before he spoke up again.

“What was your answer?”

Ed stopped himself from answering the question and looked at Roy.

“Colonel… you won’t tell anybody about Al, would you?”

Roy blinked in confusion, but then he scoffed. “Of course not, Edward.”

And it was probably in the way how Roy slipped and used his first name, or how he said these words as if it was naturally and to be expected, but Edward smiled.  

Thanks.

“I declined, and told him it’s because you were there.”

With that he made a turn and left the office. A half hour later Roy realized what those words meant.

He smiled for the rest of the day.

[fmaauweek]

Announcement

Hey, guess what guys? Fullmetal Alachemist AU week is about three weeks away! Are you guys excited? Well Alphonse sure is!

Anyways, I can’t wait to see what you guys have prepared, and if you don’t have anything yet, thats fine! You still have plenty of time, plus a wrap up day at the end of the week for any themes you just weren’t able to get to. If you need a refresher on the rules and themes, click here: https://fmaauweek.tumblr.com/post/159542235467/do-you-like-aus-or-love-to-make-them-do-you-have

Remember, the event is from July 9th to July 15th and the tag for this week is “fmaauweek2017”. Make sure to have that in your first five tags, ok? :) And if you have any questions, always feel free to ask! Remember, there is no such thing as a dumb question. You don’t know who might be wondering the same thing! All answered questions will be tagged Q&A. Feel free to look though that tag for any further rules and clarifications!

Anyways, thank you to everyone planning of participating or just waiting excitedly to see what everyone makes and reblog those posts. You guys are sure to make this week a lot of fun!

[cry-stars]

Summary: A hasty decision, an impulsive use of "mercy." Now, Kimblee finds the Doctors Rockbell to be indebted to him-- a debt that they attempt to repay by offering unsolicited friendship and counselling.

He doesn't like it... it isn't their place to judge his system of morality. Honestly, there's only three reasons that he keeps visiting Resembool: three reasons with golden hair that have made the unwise decision to befriend a heretic.

Written for FMA AU Week on Tumblr because I wanted more friendly interaction between Kimblee and the Golden Trio. Oneshot for now, but will probably be continued in the eventual future.

Characters: Kimblee, Winry, Ed, Al, the Doctors Rockbell

Category: Gen

Warnings: None, aside from Kimblee being himself

@fmaauweek I wanted to post this for the “F is for Family theme” for the FMA AU week, but it wasn’t quite finished at that point, and didn’t quite wind up fitting the prompt, anyway, so I decided to post it under the free theme.

This is basically an AU of an AU that I’ve been working on, in which Kimblee doesn’t go to prison and works for the homunculi. In this version, though, Kimblee got to where the Doctors Rockbell were treating injured Ishvalans before Scar had the chance to kill them, and managed to save them from Scar rather than kill them as he was told to do in the manga. At this point, he’s been pulled into a reluctant companionship with them and the other Resemboolians, balancing that with his work for the homunculi.

 I always thought that Kimblee and the Golden Trio got along surprisingly well, considering his villain status, and I wanted an AU that they wound up being “kind-of friends.” (and I just want Uncle!Kimblee, ok?)

[strawbebehmod]

FMA AU Week Day 2 Theme E: Change your fate

A special au based off of a conversation I had with @ladywiltshire where Brotherhood Envy goes with Greed when he runs away and they run the Devil’s Nest together. Envy is still themself, but they are a little less of a jerk towards people for greed’s sake. They at least tolerate them. Their jealousy isn’t quite as strong as before and they are relatively happy. Still they get angry every time greed brings home new chimeras and acts like he brought home stray dogs. Anyways, Enjoy.

[strawbebehmod]

FMA AU Week Day 2 Theme F: F is for family

…..Someone once said to me this au was a fix it au….:)

So this was my biggest project for au week dubbed “Sunshine” for my big brother William au where in the 2003 series, envy wasn’t left to Dante and became an older brother to Edward and Alphonse. This was something I was planning for literal months, like since March, and I’m really proud of how it turned out. I spent a week drawing it and poured my heart into it, although you might question whether I have one after making this… anyways, hope you guys enjoyed it!

Bonus:

[strawbebehmod]

The statement that the average duck has a wingspan of ten feet is a statistical error. In actuality, the average duck has a wingspan of 2.5 to 3.5 feet. Ducklust, who can extend her feathers out to 100,000 feet on each wing, is a statistical outlier and should not have been counted.

FMA AU Week Day 3 Theme H: AU where everything is the same but…

Lust is a duck.

What? Did you think I was done with this dumb thing? Well too bad! more of this au that no one asked for.

[strawbebehmod]

FMA AU Week Day 5 Theme M: The swap

Oh look! Another 2003 AU! What are the odds.

This is an au where Envy and Wrath swap places with the Elric brothers. Their names are Markus (wrath) and William (Envy). Envy loses his arm and leg and becomes the quicksilver alchemist while Wrath ends up in the suit. The suit is a bit more dented up because he’s a bit more rough and tumble with it. Also, yes that is a bear on his apron. He he didn’t like the lavender loin cloth and so he begged his brother to get him a new one. There’s a bit more of an age gap in this au, with a three year age difference instead of just two. Also, Edward!Wrath was the first homunculus in this au and Alphonse!Envy came later. His special power is that he can turn his hands into metal and change their temperature, essentially making them hot irons any time he feels like. He and Alphonse!Envy still have a brotherly bond, definitely more so then the original envy and Wrath had. Markus and William are also closer in this au. Hope you guys like this!

[strawbebehmod]

Greed:*seemingly oblivious to the fact that the big cat is trying to eat him* Who’s my favorite boy?

FMA AU Week Day 4 Free Theme

For this day I’m continuing my au where greed is a tiger hoarder and has like twenty of them. This was originally for “AU where everything is the same but”, but then the au started evolving and actually did start effecting canon in a big way. This one’s name is Brom. He’s a big Bengal tiger and enjoys trying to attack greed. For full details on the au, click here: https://strawbebehmod.tumblr.com/post/162181223284/tiger-greed-au-stuff

[paybackraid]

Precursor to Disaster

FMA AU Week Day 5 Prompt M: The Swap

Oh come on, there’s no way y’all weren’t expecting something from my favorite AU of all time: @dailymaeshughes‘ Reverse Dad. This one is a doozy, nearly 4,000 words, so hold onto your pants.

Warnings for strong language again.

After three long weeks had passed, very long for some, since Roy’s murder, Edward and Alphonse finally returned home from Dublith, unknowing of the tragedy. The boys chattered happily with one another, made confused comments at the sad looks a few soldiers passed them, and walked calmly to the office of the late Lieutenant Colonel (now Brigadier General) Roy Mustang.

Hughes was on his way back from another fruitless hour spent in records. He must have skimmed through over a hundred documents over and over again, trying to piece together whatever it was Roy was trying to tell him. Roy was an alchemist--amateur at best, but he was an alchemist all the same. And Hughes recognized the hints of a code when he saw one. Roy was not one for codes. Wasn’t really one for subtlety, actually. But he had come to recognize Hughes’ codes and wrote with them whenever something important needed to be passed on.

His code was screaming him in the face across dozens of documents, and he couldn’t crack it, couldn’t make what Roy was trying to tell him make sense.

He stepped away from his fourth cup of coffee of the morning, Munoz close on his heels. His team was diligently at work, he knew, for fear of Munoz’s righteous fury. He walked, fingers to the bridge of his nose, past Roy’s old office and headed toward his own.

He very nearly bumped into the boys on the way. If Munoz hadn’t cleared her throat and greeted them in time, he surely would have run Al right over.

“Boys,” he greeted, lowering his hand. “Finally returned from Dublith? I didn’t know your train was coming in today. Did you find what you were looking for?”

“Hello, colonel,” Al said respectfully, right hand zipping to his temple politely. Ed scoffed and tossed his head to the side, not offering the same sort of respect.

“No,” he spat. “Teacher didn’t know anything about it. “’Scuse us, we’re gonna go tell Roy we’re in.”

“We thought that he or Mom would meet us at the station, but they must have lost track of time. I bet Dad’s really busy,” Al chirped, delight sparkling in his eyes. “We want to tell them all about what happened in Rush Valley and Dublith!”

At Hughes’ side, Munoz stiffened sharply, her eyes widening a fraction. She glanced to her superior, who frowned a little, eyebrows knit together. Ed darted around Hughes, and Al followed him quietly.

“...Wait, boys,” Hughes said with a sigh, stopping them in their tracks. “Listen...”

“What?” Ed complained loudly, tipping his head to look at him. “We’ll give you the full report in the morning, okay? We haven’t seen him in almost a month, and we just wanna say hi.”

Something dark, something sad and aching shot through Hughes’ heart for a fraction of a second. Edward and Alphonse truly believed that Roy would be on the other side when they opened that door, that Roy would be as excited as ever to see them, as cheerful and goofbally as ever, as if he wasnt currently pushing up daisies over three miles away.

And why should they think differently? When Riza had gotten in contact with one Izumi Curtis, the boys hadn’t yet arrived at her home, and every time she tried to contact someone in Rush Valley, no one knew where the Elrics were. The funeral had gone and passed without them, as per military protocol. Hughes himself had advised against telling them, and though Riza hadn’t much been pleased with him, since she was unable to contact them, she was forced to do as asked.

“Roy’s... not in his office,” he relented quietly. As much as he had believed against it, maybe he needed to tell them. Maybe, in the long run, it would be better.

Beside him, Munoz flashed a glance at him and nodded approvingly.

An air of suspicion drifted over the brothers. They split a look, and Al hesitantly asked, “...Do you know where he is...?”

“I...” Oh, but he was weak. He was weak. He couldn’t say it, not to them. ‘Roy Mustang is dead.’ Four little words that he had to push out, no matter how foul they tasted, no matter how much he despised them. But these boys, they carried Roy’s last name like a trophy. He just couldn't do it. 

Let someone else say it. Let it be anyone but him. Roy had been his best friend, his brother in arms, his silent supporter against a world that would be forever against him. He couldn't say it; he could hardly remind himself at night after a glass of gin.

Let Riza tell them. They would take it better from her, anyway.

“...No, I don’t. The entire team went on a mission early this morning, and they haven’t returned.”

“...Oh,” Ed said softly, watching the ground.

“Didn’t he know we were coming back today?” Al asked, glancing at Ed. “We told them our train was coming in today, didn’t we?”

“It was... unavoidable,” Hughes said in a voice no louder than a whisper. At least, he thought, that wasn’t entirely a lie.

Munoz’s eyes went wide and she glanced sharply at her superior. She didn’t say a word of reproach, but her disappointment radiated off of her like a sunbeam.

“...Okay, I guess. Well... maybe we should go see Lieutenant Ross and Sergeant Brosh! They’re not far from here,” Al chirped hesitantly.

“...Yeah,” Ed agreed, quietly suspicious as he eyed his superior and Hughes got the sudden feeling that somehow he knew, “yeah, sure. We should.”

“Let us know when Dad’s back, colonel!” Al hummed, leading the way. Ed followed after him, frowning silently.

Once they were gone and out of sight, Hughes braced his circle against his forehead, clenching his teeth to fight back a sudden wave of emotion. He squeezed his eyes shut, took several hesitant breaths, then ran a shaky hand through his hair. “...Dammit, Roy.”

Munoz turned her sharp gaze on him as though to reprimand him, but instead she sealed her mouth shut to the rebuke and asked, “sir...?”

“Turning me soft just after I accused Armstrong of the same. Damn that man.”

“Soft?” asked Munoz, furrowing her brows. “Sir, I don’t see how that was ‘soft’ in any way. That was cruel. They’re going to go home tonight expecting to see their father but he won’t be there! He’ll never be there again. And you call it soft to lie.”

“He’s not their father,” Hughes grumbled out before he could stop himself, mouth quickly morphing into a guilty grimace at the words.

“Not their--” Munoz started, eyes blown wide. “Maybe in blood he wasn’t, but he cared for them like he was, and they care for him as if he was! Imagine how that would feel!”

“...They would take it better from Riza, anyway,” Hughes said lowly. He shook his head quietly, then turned on his heel to head back to his office. “Come on. We’ve got to get back to work.” Because anything was better than her disapproving glare on him.

Munoz’s mouth dropped open like a fish, gaping wide. She closed her mouth with a click, glared at the back of his head, and followed, seething all the way.

Al looked back over his shoulder, in the direction of Colonel Hughes and Lieutenant Munoz. There was a sick knotting in his belly, one that he couldn’t quite place. Hughes was acting very different indeed. “...That was weird, wasn’t it, brother?” he said to his brooding older brother on the way to Armstrong’s office. “Colonel Hughes was acting weird.” 

“Yeah,” Ed agreed, arms over his chest. It had been odd. Hughes had started out solemn, but had quickly cleared the air, like he was hiding something. Hughes liked to hide things from them, sure, but he had never done it like that.

...Something as off. Al wasn’t the only one who noticed it.

“Hey,” Al suddenly chirped, jerking Ed from his head. He pointed down the stairs they were nearing, where they spotted a tawny head of hair. “Brother, look! Second Lieutenant Havoc! They must have just got back!”

When Ed’s attention was fully off his thoughts, he spotted whom Al was speaking of. And certainly, approaching the base of the stairs was one of Roy’s trusted lieutenants, files in arm. He was just about to start climbing the stairs when he heard his name.

“...Ed? Al?”

“Lieutenant!” Al cheered, hurrying down the stairs. He skipped to a stop beside the man, nearly flinging himself to the floor in his haste, grinning widely. Ed frowned and followed, slower. Havoc looked... he looked different, somehow. Something was wrong. And judging by Havoc’s wide eyes as he stared at Al, something was very wrong.

“When did you guys get back?” Havoc asked, glancing between them with frantic eyes.

“Our train pulled in just a few hours ago! Hey, have you seen our dad? Colonel Hughes said you guys were on a mission, must have been until only a little bit ago.”

Havoc’s eyes grew wide, and both boys noticed the distress painting them dark. Havoc’s hand dropped, the papers he was holding spilling out like rainwater. Ed bolted down the last few steps nervously, heart in his throat. Something was wrong. “Lieutenant? Are you okay? What is it?”

Havoc didn’t even seem to notice that he’d dropped everything, eyes flickering frantically between them and growing wider by the second. Then, he quietly asked in a breathy, almost frightened voice, “didn’t your mother get ahold of you?”

“Who, Riza?” Ed said with a little shrug. Al leaned down to scoop up Havoc’s papers. “No, she hasn’t called us. We were only in Dublith half as long as they were expecting. We stayed with Winry in Rush Valley for a little bit. Oh, guess what! We helped deliver a baby!”

“We didn’t help, brother,” Al said with a little laugh, handing over Havoc’s files. “We sat around screaming while Winry and Paninya did all the work!”

“Oh whatever, Alphonse. Anyway, we met these crazy Xingese guys, too. One of them said he was a prince--”

“You mean after all this time, you still don’t know?” Havoc said half-under his breath, but the quiet distress on his face was enough to make Ed and Al shut their mouths. Al glanced at Ed and opened his mouth to say something, but whatever it was was lost in translation between brain and tongue, and he let it fall.

“...Don’t know what?”

Havoc hung his head back and looked up at the ceiling, took a huge breath, and said, “you don’t knooooooooow...” He sighed and shook his head, squeezed his eyes shut, and the knots were back. “Come with me, boys. You need to know something.”

A loud crash echoed through Hughes’ main office as the door was kicked in, slamming into the wall so hard that it left a dent. Munoz stood from her place at her desk to scold the assailant, but he marched past her and screamed, “I don’t care!”, storming into the private office inside which sat the Glacier Alchemist.

Munoz would have scolded him right away had she not spotted the tears in his eyes, and immediately knew what would have happened. Keeping the secret from the boys had been a bad idea from the start, but even she hadn’t been expecting for it to unravel quite so quickly. She sat back in her place and considered her lap, flinching hard when the door slammed shut behind Ed.

Ed kicked in the second door even harder, striding forward quickly enough that he was able to kick it back into place and hopefully release some of his righteous fury. He stopped before the couches and looked at the man behind his desk who pointedly refused to look at him, scribbling his paperwork out with increased urgency. Ed wanted to scream, he wanted to scream and yell and far too big of a part of him wanted to just cry, but not here, not in front of this despicable man who had refused to so much as tell them the truth.

He opened his mouth, but the words refused to come without a blot of tears, so he snapped his teeth closed and turned his eyes away for a moment. Emotions back under control, he strode forward and came to a stomping stop before the desk, grinding his teeth.

Hughes glanced up his way, noted the expression and the tears, noted the dread. His stomach dropped straight to his toes. Had he found out already?

“You said they were on a mission,” Ed accused heatedly, his voice brittle and already starting to break.

Hughes didn’t respond.

“You said he was on a mission!! Y-you said he was on a mission and that’s why he couldn’t pick us up!! You--you--” Ed turned his face to the ground, glaring at his toes, furrowing his brows against his emotions. “You lied to us.”

“I... did.” Hughes lifted his chin in answer, lifted his brow, hoping and wishing to appear nonchalant though he felt almost anything but. “I thought, in the long run, you might be better.”

“Better?!” Edward shrieked like a banshee, lifting his eyes. They were shining under the light; he likely wouldn’t last long like this. “How fucking long did you think you could hide it?! Did you think that Al and me would just go the fuck home, all ‘oh, Roy’s not home yet, lah-dee-fucking-dah!’ Did you think we wouldn’t fucking notice when he never came home, when Riza started acting different and being different? How dense do you think we are?!”

“I never thought it would last for long.” Just long enough so that he wouldn’t deal with an aftermath he couldn’t handle, especially when he could hardly handle his own.

“Then what was the damn point?!?”

“You watch your mouth when you’re speaking with your superior!!”

Ed flinched hard and looked away, glaring to the side. Hughes hadn’t even meant to yell.

He could normally handle rebukes, no problem. Munoz rebuked and scolded him all the time, and he was in the damn military. If it wasn’t one thing, it was another, every day. But there was something about the way Ed was saying it, the expression on his face, that infuriated and frustrated Hughes. He wanted Ed to shut up, whatever that may mean.

He clamped his mouth shut and clenched his hands around the edge of his desk, willing his spike of anger away. After a moment, he asked, “where is Alphonse?”

“...he’s in Roy’s off--he’s with the guys.”

“Right. Well. I had believed that Riza would get ahold of you first, before you met with anyone who would tell you. You wouldn’t have believed me had I said anything, anyway, so I didn’t see the point of giving you undue stress until you were in an arguably safe location. I apologize you had to find out this way, but as is the way of the world, plans fall apart. Now, you are--”

“Where’s Riza?”

Hughes shot him a brief glare, but it lightened at his question. “Excuse?”

“Riza. You know, the other person who adopted me and Al? Did you forget about that? Where is she? Or--” Ed smiled a tiny smile, and Hughes saw him bite back on some sort of emotion he hadn’t been expecting. “Ha. Is she dead too? And you were just gonna wait a few months before telling us about that?”

Hughes scowled and shook his head. “Well, I imagine she’s at the law firm on fifth; I believe she’s been hired on as a receptionist there.”

“Hired--she’s working?”

Ed’s surprise didn’t surprise Hughes. Riza had been a stay-at-home wife since Roy had married her. Roy’s pay had always been more than enough to cover expenses. Occasionally she would fill in as a police dog trainer, as she had done before their marriage, but that only happened for a few days every few months and, with Roy gone, would not pay the bills. She had taken up the job the week of Roy’s funeral, desperate to keep herself busy and her mind from wandering.

“Yes.”

Ed frowned hard and pulled at his gloves, then nodded and turned around. “Fine. We’re gonna go see her.” He marched out of the room, eyes dark, completely ignoring the “I haven’t dismissed you yet!” from his commander.

Roy Mustang

1885-1914

Ed knew, logically, that this was a military cemetery and that every headstone was going to look the same, was going to show nothing but names and dates. But Roy was somehow... more. He deserved more. He wasn’t just a Lieutenant Colonel (now turned Brigadier General). He wasn’t just a military man with a kill count, wasn’t just a veteran, he wasn’t just a number.

He was... a dad. Ed had never been able to admit it, to himself or anyone else, for fear of a rejection on the level of Hohenheim, but Roy had been. Hughes had found them, but Roy and Riza had saved them. They had given them a home, and people they could love unconditionally. Somewhere they could break if necessary, without fear of a lecture. Somewhere they could just be the kids they were, because even if they were in the military, they were only fourteen and fifteen.

They gave them affection, encouragement, a little adoration, a lot of love. They gave them a family.

And now... now it was falling apart.

"I’m sorry,” Riza said. She spoke at the headstone, but to the boys. “I tried calling you. I wanted you here so you could say your goodbyes. But everywhere I called, I couldn’t get a hold of you. I wish you could have been there. He would have loved it. He would love that you’re here, now.”

Ed frowned and mumbled something suspiciously like “he wouldn’t love his own funeral”, but didn’t speak clear enough for his adopted mother and his brother to hear.

Edward and Alphonse had gone to meet Riza at her new workplace, and she had pulled them aside and told them everything. With permission from her boss to head home (the “they just found out their father was murdered” schtick worked exceptionally well considering she worked at a place where souls came to die), she instead took them to the cemetery to say their goodbyes. 

Riza smiled and leaned forward to lay a beautiful bouquet of lilies over Roy’s grave. “Hello, love. I’ve brought the boys today. They wanted to say goodbye to you.”

“Hi, Dad,” Al whispered, and on Riza’s opposite side, Ed mumbled, “hey Roy...”

Riza looked back at them and smiled a little, then said “come, come. It’s alright. Come say your goodbyes.” She rose and took a step back, crossing an arm over her stomach. Al moved to sit beside the headstone, the idea of sitting on recently upturned dirt made his stomach turn. Ed didn’t seem to care so much, sitting beside him.

“Sorry we couldn't... come. We didn’t know,” Al mumbled softly. He swiped at his dry face. “We would have been here if we had.”

“Riza tried to call but we... we were so excited for everything that we were never where we needed to be.”

“We didn’t even check in. I bet even you were worried sick.” Al grimaced and lowered his face, picking at his pants. “Well. Would have been.”

Ed turned his face away and tugged on his bangs. They were surrounded by other headstones, every single one of them looking the same as the one that they stood before. That wasn’t right. That couldn’t be right. This couldn’t have happened.

Roy Mustang wasn’t supposed to be dead.

Above them, Riza smiled a soft, sad smile and crouched between them. She put a hand on Ed’s shoulder, and one on Al’s, and pulled them in close. Al leaned to the side against her, disbelieving golden eyes staring blankly ahead, and Ed just frowned at the headstone

This wasn’t supposed to happen. How many more people were the Elrics destined to lose? First Hohenheim, then Mom, and now Roy? Who else was there? Ed couldn’t take much more of this, of losing the people he cared for. He was a damn State Alchemist! Both of them were! Weren’t they supposed to stop things like this from happening?

Al sniffed after a moment and pulled away from Riza. Ed tugged away as well, glancing at Riza, whose emotions were starting to get to her. She pinched the bridge of her nose, face turned to the replanted grass, and mumbled, “I miss you... I miss you... I love you...”

Ed glanced around Riza to his brother, who shared a watery look with him. Al gave a soft not-smile and blinked a tear down his cheek, turning to their aching adopted mother.

Water. 35 liters.

The thought came to him before he could even hope to stop it, and he immediately knew what it was. Extensive, extensive research, back before Hughes had even found them made it almost impossible to forget. Desperate for a mother who had been robbed by illness, about to commit human transmutation had Hughes not stepped in and overturned their lives entirely.

Now, desperate for a father who had been killed in cold blood, not just for them but for their new mother, too.

The ingredients started swirling about in his head, twirling and whipping his brain from one point of the circle to another. It was like he was eleven again, preparing a circle to bring back their beloved mother. They whipped about faster and faster, suffocating and relieving him, until all he could think of was water, 35 liters.

Humans are made pretty cheap--all with a child’s allowance.

They could do it.

Riza was so desperately sad, so upset when she saw them appear at the firm. She had known Roy since they were kids, had kept in contact by letter for years after they fell out of contact in person. He had been a constant in her life for at least ten years... and now he was snatched away, and it hurt her. It hurt them. It hurt all of them.

He reached around Riza in a half-hug, but grabbed Al’s arm to get his attention. His eyes flickered to the headstone, and Al nervously looked as well. His eyes went wide and he glanced at Ed, but all of the hesitation that Ed feared would be there, all of the hesitation that had stopped them from resurrecting their mother, was gone. It was all replaced with determination. He nodded firmly, then pressed down to form a protective and comforting barrier for his aching mother.

With Al’s reservations gone, and Ed’s never really there, they really could do it. They had lost their father. Lost their mother. And now, they lost Roy.

But no, they hadn’t really.

They were bringing him back.

And maybe, if this worked, just maybe they could bring back Trisha soon, too.

[strawbebehmod]

FMA AU Week Day 4 Theme K: In a land of myth and a time of magic

This also counts for the crossover au theme but I have so many for that, that I wanted to post this today. Here’s an au crossover with a series I used to watch called Merlin, the story of king Arthur with a few twists and turns in it, such as Merlin and Arthur being roughly the same age and Magic being banned in Camelot. It’s Merlin’s job to make sure Arthur one day becomes the king he is meant to be and eventually cause the land of Albion to be born while acting as his servant and the assistant to the court Physician. Often times he has to save arthur from some terrible fate and has to seek help from an ancient dragon to do so.

Obviously, in this AU Edward is Merlin because main character and such, but also because I think their characters line up pretty well. Also, I wanted to imagine Edward going off on this rant: https://youtu.be/3-lg8GasP1M

Envy is the Great Dragon in this au, but is clearly much less helpful and more “Kill the king for trapping me down in this stupid cave”.

King Bradley is King Uther in this

Rose is guinevere

Lyra is Morgana

Russell is Prince Arthur (who starts out as a royal pain but becomes a lot better as time progresses)

Roy Mustang is Gaius who is the court physician and essentially Merlin’s guardian who is constantly trying to protect Merlin while both helping him learn to control his magic and not letting it be discovered.

And Ling is Sir Gawain in this au. Sir Gawain in this series is the son of a former lord and probably one of the funniest characters of the series. He’s got a great love for food and is probably one of Merlin’s closest friends who would do anything for him.

Finally, Selim Bradley as Mordred

That’s all I’ve got for this au. Hope you guys like it. Please check out merlin if you get the chance.

[paybackraid]

Incoming Message

FMA AU Week Day 4 Prompt L: Overused but Well Loved

Words: 1998

This time it’s a modern AU. Based on some lovely art by @ignicule with their permission, ofc. Warnings for strong language from Edward.

It should also be noted that I do not support Roy/Winry in anyway; they are messing with Ed and in this, Roy loves Winry like a daughter.

Please don’t tag as Roywin

“I can’t believe I trusted him with her. I. Cannot. Believe that I trusted him. What was I thinking? I should have called Al home. What was I thinking?”

Riza sighed silently to herself, glancing to her companion who clutched nervously to his phone. She and Ed were away on a mission, too far from Resembool or Central to return quickly should anything arise. She was a little nervous too; Roy had a knack for getting himself into trouble when she wasn’t around, but he was also a grown man who could take care of himself and those around him. Ed had been aware of that when he asked Roy to check on his heavily pregnant wife who was taking up a hotel room in Central. Alphonse was away in Xing with his wife Mei visiting her family, otherwise Winry would have stayed in Resembool with him. Riza wished that Ed would remember why he had trusted Roy to keep her safe and well taken care of in the first place.

Roy absolutely adored Winry, after all, and would do just about anything for her, even more so now that she was with an unborn child. Riza wouldn’t be surprised when she got home if she found out that Winry ended up staying in their guest room, or Roy spent all day in her hotel room.

“He’s going to fuck up. He’s going to fuck up royally, and I’m going to lose my child. And probably her. ...That’s it, I’m call--”

Riza strode over and plucked Ed’s phone right from his hands, where he had been staring at the still phone app for over a quarter of an hour. He protested and flipped onto his back on his bed, just in time to see her pocket it. “Edward. Winry still has two months to go. Winry can take care of herself. Roy is a responsible adult who knows how to take care of a pregnant woman.” His sister had gotten pregnant a little over a year ago, and he had Googled just about everything he had needed to know even though he obviously wasn’t the father, and had stayed with her the last half of her pregnancy. The baby had been born happy and healthy. Not to say that was Roy’s doing at all, but at least his doting hadn’t harmed his new niece in the least. “They’re going to be fine. If you want to ensure that the baby will be fine, then focus on the mission so we can get home as soon as possible. Alright?”

Ed stared at her with wide, stricken eyes like he thought he had been betrayed. “But he’s useless!”

“Only on rainy days, and the forecast called for sun today. At least take a break from your phone. If Roy texts me that anything goes wrong, I’ll tell you immediately. Please take a look at the case files.”

Ed ground his teeth, waited for a second to see if he could wait her out, then deflated. “...Fine. But as soon as they call, you tell me!”

“If they call, I’ll tell you.”

Ed grouched for a moment and stormed over to the table, yanking out the chair and dropping into it like a brooding child. Riza laughed to herself and shook her head; though it had been over five years since Ed had gotten Al’s body back, sometimes she could still see the same sullen child she had come to love. A small part of her hoped that part of him would never grow up. She took a seat on her bed (she and Ed had agreed that sharing a room would be easier and would pose no problem) and tucked into her own case file, hoping for some clues.

After a small amount of time, both phones in her pocket buzzed. Curious, and a little nervous, she pulled out her phone. Roy was a responsible adult, no way he had let something happen to Winry.

She rolled her eyes, a small smile drifting over her face. A group chat, from Winry, sent to her, Roy, and Ed. And the picture, no doubt Ed wouldn’t be terribly pleased with that, the jealous little thing he was.

’Stay safe! We love you! See you when you get home!!’

“Ed.”

Ed shot up like a hunting dog, staring with wide eyes at her, clearly waiting for the moment she called for him. She rolled her eyes again, but pulled out his phone and stretched out the small distance to hand it to him.

“Take a look.”

He took the phone and opened it up without looking at the message. Slowly, his scowl darkened into something unholy, which made her smile. Oh how pleased Roy would be if he knew that he had caused a face like that only by taking a picture with Ed’s wife. After a solid minute of scowling at the picture, Ed started typing back furiously.

The picture that Winry had sent was really just a picture of the two of them smiling, pressed close to one another. The background suggested they were at Gracia’s--the half of the wall painting she could see looked like the one above Gracia’s living room couch. Either Gracia or Elysia had probably taken the picture. Roy was holding Winry to his side, his shoulder behind hers a little, although Winry seemed no less enthusiastic to be with him. Their outer hands were curled together, forming a little heart between them. Winry’s grin was huge, showing off a tongue piercing that she and Roy had nearly had a spat over three years back. Roy’s smile was soft and warm--though he seemed happy to pose for the picture with her, he had likely had to be connived into it. 

It was a cute picture, one that made Riza smile if for no other reason than to see these two she thought of as family to get along so splendidly. She saved the photo and set it as her home screen just in time for Ed to send back, ‘Get away from my wife, you pervert.’

‘Oh Ed,’ Riza thought, but didn’t bother saying aloud. She waited to see what the two on the other end would say.

Their end was silent for five full minutes. Finally, when the chat pinged again, it was another picture. It was a selfie done by Winry, her arm extended forward. The selfie was staged in a bedroom, as the two of them seemed to be seated on a cushy bed, likely Gracia’s. Roy sat behind Winry, his legs drawn around her. His arms swam around her pregnant belly, and his chin was nestled on the crown of her head. He was making the same bedroom eyes he made at Riza when he was messing around. She could tell that he was joking around, and that Winry was as well, but would Ed see that? In a state of heightened agitation, probably not.

Winry was making a delighted face, but also was trying to pull off her best goofy-but-sexy face. She turned her face up to Roy only a little bit that it made her look like she was going to kiss him, her free arm curled up so she could stroke her fingertips on his jawline.

Those two were going to get themselves in huge trouble with Ed when they got home. Riza? She could let it slide this time. Really, Ed was kind of asking for it.

The picture was on their phones for nearly half a minute before Winry finally explained. Ed was silently fuming; Riza could practically see smoke spewing from his ears. She lifted her phone to snap a quick picture to send just to Roy, saying ‘Look at what you two are doing to him.’

Winry’s text was simple and only barely explained the picture. ‘oh yeah didnt you hear? We’re eloping sorry boo ;) xoxo’

Ooohhhhh no. Ed was definitely kicking Roy’s ass when they got home.

Within seconds, Ed answered, ‘I’m kicking your ass if you dont get away from her!!!!’

Riza feared that they’d send another picture, perhaps of them kissing, which she wouldn’t be too happy about. Thankfully they both had the common sense not to respond with that. The text that followed was from Roy: ‘how you feeling, Fullmetal?’

He was stirring the pot. Of course he was.

‘How am i FEELING?!?

Like youre gonna get an ass kicking is how im feeling!!!

And im not an alchemist anymore!!!’

‘With a temper like that, youll ALWAYS be Fullmetal, Fullmetal.’

Ed just about put a hand through the wall, and Riza just about choked trying to suppress a laugh. Ed shot her a look but he must not have seen her laugh, because he immediately turned back to his phone.

‘And you’ll always be a piece of shit, you piece of shit!’ popped up on Riza’s phone seconds later. Riza shook her head and looked down to her forgotten case file. Well. So much for getting closer to going home.

‘:OOOO’ Winry texted immediately after. Roy’s response was a simple, ‘creative, Fullmetal’, just as Winry continued with ‘I’M SO SORRY GENERAL OMFG EDWARD’.

‘Don’t be, I’m not.’

‘That’s no way to speak to your commanding officer.’ Riza informed, then set her phone aside. Ed shot her a look that was half-betrayal, half-surprise, then turned away from her when she looked at her file.

‘...

Yes ma’am’

The phones were silent for probably ten minutes, blessed silence, during which time Ed actually sat down and took a look at his files.

Her phone suddenly chirped with Roy’s newest addition. ‘You know, Ed...’ was all it said, although the indicator said he wasn’t quite done. Riza could feel in the pit of her stomach that whatever he would say, it would spur Ed’s furious rage on further. Not that Roy’s very existence didn’t seem to do so most days.

‘What.’ Ed replied, and Winry’s addition was a nervous little ‘...’.

‘You’re stuck working all week, while I get to care for a beautiful young woman all alone.’

‘General’ Winry cut in, likely in the hopes of quelling her sure-to-be-raging husband.

‘Just me...

And her...’

‘THATS IT IM COMING BACK HOME AND KICKING YOUR ASS MYSELF YOU FUCKIN CREEP’ Ed responded, jerking up out of his bed and toward his suitcase like he intended to pack up and head out.

“Ed!” Riza squawked, hopping out of her seat and to his side. She cut him off from his suitcase and shoved him back, just as Winry replied, ‘OMG Ed it’s fine he’s just joking!!!’

‘Your wife gave me permission to drop kick your ass to next year so be ready for that.’ Ed snarked, crossing his arms. He dropped onto the bed, face souring at his phone.

Riza squeezed the bridge of her nose tiredly and held her hand out to Ed, who stared at her with suspicious, narrowed eyes.

“...What?”

“Give me your phone.”

”What?! Why?!”

“Because you have work to do, now give me your phone, go sit down, and work. You know Roy’s only messing with you.”

Ed stared between her face and her hand, as if unable to believe that he, an adult, was about to be grounded from his own phone. But when Riza wiggled her fingers a little and did not back down, he realized that she was being completely serious. He scowled and slapped his phone into her hand, probably unnecessarily hard, and stormed to his case file. He dropped into the chair like a petulant teen and went about actually doing something useful.

Riza rolled her eyes and pocketed his phone.

‘I most certainly did not,’ she responded on her own phone, taking a seat beside her own case file. ‘But keep it up, Roy Mustang, and I may just change my mind on that.’

To which Roy simply responded, ‘heh... okay okay. ...Love you?’. And Riza, if only to make him sweat a little, did not respond.

[strawbebehmod]

FMA AU Week Day 3 Theme G: A minor miscalculation

Don’t tell me what to do!

SO for those who don’t know, this is for @phantastus‘s snakevy au, where Envy ended up on the other side of the gat a lot smaller than he intended to be. Ed discovers him and keeps him as a pet so he can’t get into any trouble. Yes he had that sticker made. Makes you wonder what happened that caused him to add the do not talk to part….