FMA fic? What? From me?
Well. Of all the fandoms that I've had the opportunity to write in, the one that pings me is Fullmetal Alchemist. Hm.
I'm extremely rusty at fanfic, but I like this one enough to post it.
Untitled as of yet. Gen, Edward and Al. 982 words.
Sometimes he wondered what would have happened if he had offered more of himself in exchange for Al. How much would it have taken to get Al’s head back, his torso, his legs? What would have come back had it chosen a heart instead of an arm? The calculations (and the images that accompanied them) should have been too gruesome to contemplate, but sometimes when he couldn’t sleep and had to pretend so Al wouldn’t worry, those images were all that were there. Could he have traded his whole body for Al’s? His soul?
~
“Hey Al, what would you trade for a tire swing?”
“What? Why do I have to trade something for it?”
“Equivalent exchange, duh. Just pretend you could trade anything instead of whatever makes a tire swing. What would you give up?”
“It has to be something that’s mine?”
“Well yeah, otherwise it wouldn’t be a real trade!”
“Uh…I don’t know. My sling shot?”
“What? You’re crazy. You’d want a tire swing more than a sling shot?”
“I guess. I don’t like shooting things as much as you.”
“Hm. How ‘bout for a bike?”
“I don’t wanna play this game.”
“Oh come on, just do this one.”
“Okay, fine. Can I trade…my hair?”
“Ew, then you’d be bald! Baldy! Ha ha, Al with no hair!”
“But I really want a bike!”
~
Once, Ed had seen his brother standing in their bathroom in some inn along the road, apparently staring into the mirror above the sink. As he watched, one big, metallic hand slowly lifted to shoulder-height, waved back and forth at its own image, and slowly lowered again. Then the other hand repeated the process. The great head rotated to one side and then the other, and this last motion made Al finally notice the figure staring at him from the doorway.
“Nii-san.” Ed didn’t need to see Al’s face to know that his brother was blushing.
Ed looked down at his hands and suddenly remembered what he was doing. “I brought lots more towels, so dry yourself off. You know had badly you can rust when you’ve been out in the rain.”
“Okay, nii-san.”
~
Auntie Pinako had once overheard the tail end of their debate over what the best exchange would be for one of the strong, shiny automail limbs they’d seen in the Rockbell’s workshop. Without warning, she had come up behind them and smacked each of them hard on the head, then dragged them to the kitchen and sat them down at the table. She had explained to them in her strictest voice that the people who needed those arms and legs had gone through terrible pain and sacrifice in order to need them.
“Nobody, and I mean nobody, should ever wish for one of their own. If I ever catch you talking about such nonsense again, I’ll whip you.”
By the end of this tirade Al had almost been trembling, and even Ed had looked ashamed.
“Y-yes, Auntie.”
For a long time after that, neither of them had wanted to get too close to the workshop’s open door.
~
The idea of equivalent exchange had always vaguely bothered Ed, even before he’d found out what it could truly entail. It just seemed so impersonal, somehow, and therefore inherently flawed. For example, he could technically transmute his silver watch into a teapot, but it wasn’t nearly worth it to give up something so important for something so commonplace. Equivalent physical exchange would be a more accurate way of describing it. Really, sometimes science wasn’t all it was cracked up to be.
~
In the weeks right after Al reawakened in his new body, he went through a period of short panic attacks as he acclimated to the new sensations of existing as cold, hollow metal. Once he was heating water for tea on the Rockbell’s kitchen stove, his huge fingers having a hard time gripping the thin handle of the kettle, when Ed suddenly heard a shout from the next room and ran in to find his brother touching a red-hot burner over and over again with one hand.
“Nii-san, nii-san, I can’t feel it! There’s something wrong with my hand! I slipped and touched it, but I didn’t get burned!”
Ed stared in helpless horror for several seconds before running to the stove and grabbing the armor’s - no, Al’s - wrist.
“Al, Al! Listen to me! It’s okay, Al! Stop it!”
Thin, high, strained sounds were issuing from the helmet as Al continued to move his hand back and forth. Ed wanted to put his arms around him, comfort him like he used to do when they were little and Al had bad dreams. But now if he tried to embrace the metal body, he couldn’t even reach all the way around it.
Damnit, all he wanted to do was hug his brother! It was so frustrating that he turned and kicked the stove, which made the kettle rattle threateningly and slosh a bit of scalding water onto the floor. Ed jumped back before his foot could be burnt, and that was what finally seemed to snap Al out of his panicked state.
“Nii-san, be careful, you’ll hurt yourself!”
Ed looked at his brother, then at the small puddle on the floor. Then he bent down and stuck his automail hand right into the hot water.
“You don’t have to worry about me, Al. See, I can’t feel it, either.”
~
“Hey, nii-san, what if you can’t do an equivalent exchange?”
“What do you mean?”
“Well, what if there’s something somewhere that nothing else could equal? What if it were so important that you couldn’t trade it?”
“That’s silly. There’s always something. Otherwise, we would have found something about that in the alchemy books.”
“Hm. I don’t know.”
“Don’t worry about it, Al. We’re just pretending, anyway.”
~
He’d been such a fool.
I'm extremely rusty at fanfic, but I like this one enough to post it.
Untitled as of yet. Gen, Edward and Al. 982 words.
Sometimes he wondered what would have happened if he had offered more of himself in exchange for Al. How much would it have taken to get Al’s head back, his torso, his legs? What would have come back had it chosen a heart instead of an arm? The calculations (and the images that accompanied them) should have been too gruesome to contemplate, but sometimes when he couldn’t sleep and had to pretend so Al wouldn’t worry, those images were all that were there. Could he have traded his whole body for Al’s? His soul?
~
“Hey Al, what would you trade for a tire swing?”
“What? Why do I have to trade something for it?”
“Equivalent exchange, duh. Just pretend you could trade anything instead of whatever makes a tire swing. What would you give up?”
“It has to be something that’s mine?”
“Well yeah, otherwise it wouldn’t be a real trade!”
“Uh…I don’t know. My sling shot?”
“What? You’re crazy. You’d want a tire swing more than a sling shot?”
“I guess. I don’t like shooting things as much as you.”
“Hm. How ‘bout for a bike?”
“I don’t wanna play this game.”
“Oh come on, just do this one.”
“Okay, fine. Can I trade…my hair?”
“Ew, then you’d be bald! Baldy! Ha ha, Al with no hair!”
“But I really want a bike!”
~
Once, Ed had seen his brother standing in their bathroom in some inn along the road, apparently staring into the mirror above the sink. As he watched, one big, metallic hand slowly lifted to shoulder-height, waved back and forth at its own image, and slowly lowered again. Then the other hand repeated the process. The great head rotated to one side and then the other, and this last motion made Al finally notice the figure staring at him from the doorway.
“Nii-san.” Ed didn’t need to see Al’s face to know that his brother was blushing.
Ed looked down at his hands and suddenly remembered what he was doing. “I brought lots more towels, so dry yourself off. You know had badly you can rust when you’ve been out in the rain.”
“Okay, nii-san.”
~
Auntie Pinako had once overheard the tail end of their debate over what the best exchange would be for one of the strong, shiny automail limbs they’d seen in the Rockbell’s workshop. Without warning, she had come up behind them and smacked each of them hard on the head, then dragged them to the kitchen and sat them down at the table. She had explained to them in her strictest voice that the people who needed those arms and legs had gone through terrible pain and sacrifice in order to need them.
“Nobody, and I mean nobody, should ever wish for one of their own. If I ever catch you talking about such nonsense again, I’ll whip you.”
By the end of this tirade Al had almost been trembling, and even Ed had looked ashamed.
“Y-yes, Auntie.”
For a long time after that, neither of them had wanted to get too close to the workshop’s open door.
~
The idea of equivalent exchange had always vaguely bothered Ed, even before he’d found out what it could truly entail. It just seemed so impersonal, somehow, and therefore inherently flawed. For example, he could technically transmute his silver watch into a teapot, but it wasn’t nearly worth it to give up something so important for something so commonplace. Equivalent physical exchange would be a more accurate way of describing it. Really, sometimes science wasn’t all it was cracked up to be.
~
In the weeks right after Al reawakened in his new body, he went through a period of short panic attacks as he acclimated to the new sensations of existing as cold, hollow metal. Once he was heating water for tea on the Rockbell’s kitchen stove, his huge fingers having a hard time gripping the thin handle of the kettle, when Ed suddenly heard a shout from the next room and ran in to find his brother touching a red-hot burner over and over again with one hand.
“Nii-san, nii-san, I can’t feel it! There’s something wrong with my hand! I slipped and touched it, but I didn’t get burned!”
Ed stared in helpless horror for several seconds before running to the stove and grabbing the armor’s - no, Al’s - wrist.
“Al, Al! Listen to me! It’s okay, Al! Stop it!”
Thin, high, strained sounds were issuing from the helmet as Al continued to move his hand back and forth. Ed wanted to put his arms around him, comfort him like he used to do when they were little and Al had bad dreams. But now if he tried to embrace the metal body, he couldn’t even reach all the way around it.
Damnit, all he wanted to do was hug his brother! It was so frustrating that he turned and kicked the stove, which made the kettle rattle threateningly and slosh a bit of scalding water onto the floor. Ed jumped back before his foot could be burnt, and that was what finally seemed to snap Al out of his panicked state.
“Nii-san, be careful, you’ll hurt yourself!”
Ed looked at his brother, then at the small puddle on the floor. Then he bent down and stuck his automail hand right into the hot water.
“You don’t have to worry about me, Al. See, I can’t feel it, either.”
~
“Hey, nii-san, what if you can’t do an equivalent exchange?”
“What do you mean?”
“Well, what if there’s something somewhere that nothing else could equal? What if it were so important that you couldn’t trade it?”
“That’s silly. There’s always something. Otherwise, we would have found something about that in the alchemy books.”
“Hm. I don’t know.”
“Don’t worry about it, Al. We’re just pretending, anyway.”
~
He’d been such a fool.