𝑭 𝑼 𝑳 𝑳 𝑴 𝑬 𝑻 𝑨 𝑳

     He hadn’t meant to say that, not… completely. It wasn’t Alphonse’s intention to make Ed feel bad, but as was his way, he seemed to keep everything bottled up until it all overflowed and he was only left feeling worse. It was one of his worst habits, he knew.

     “It’s not you, Brother. It’s me.” Al shouldn’t have been able to sigh, but one hissed out of his armor anyway, like a tea kettle grasping for relief. “You would think it’d be a sort of gift to not need sleep–all the things you could do with more time!–but it’s not. I don’t even have a head and I can’t get out of it. I feel like I’m drowning, Ed.”

' Al... ‘

          that was the sort of twisted belief both of them shared, clearly; it’s not you, it’s me. and was it surprising, considering their bond was all they had left at this point? the last remaining rock to cling on and stay afloat amidst the sea of chaos that their lives had been ever since that dreadful night? still, Ed wasn’t about to just sit idly and let his little brother take that one upon himself --- he might be helplessly unable to make Al feel human sensations for the time being, but heck if he wouldn’t try his best to at least ease the younger’s mood to the best of his ability. hence, the grip on his coffee mug tightening a bit, as he continued.

sorry if this is too kinky but can you just hold me and tell me everything is going to be okay

   she sat quietly, listening intently to edward as he tried to make sense of that other world. science developed in a different way, applied to giant machines that carried people into the sky… it resonated with her more than she’d like to admit. she was always the one who was eager to tinker with different gadgets, wanting to explore the inner workings & mechanisms of structures built by others; alchemy was a foreign concept for winry; that flash of blue lightning that appeared every time ed or al transmuted something seemed akin to magic to her as well. in the back of her mind she wondered if she would find some sense of belonging there, if she would have liked the place.

   “and how did that meeting go?” she could only imagine how strange it would be to see the splitting image of yourself staring back at you. strange, how he’d never mentioned if he saw anyone like her there… she refused to ask. it seemed selfish, and she wasn’t sure if she was ready for the answer—would open that wound  /  ache she thought had almost healed over the years, a mass of grief & anger & sadness, re-opened after they had returned HOME.

   “…i know.”

   nothing else felt like the right thing to say in response to an apology; especially one she had not been expecting, not now and not ever. for nothing in the universe could have possibly filled that void, the place in the distance where memories ( the breadth of ed’s laughter, the warmth of alphonse’s smile ) faded until they were silent. she’d tried to be optimistic, especially in the beginning—al’s body was recovered, and the brothers had each other now, and everything would be okay because they faced whatever uncertainty lay on the other side of the gate together. but more often than not that feeling had festered into something like rage, or fear: had she never been enough for him? was she only ever the girl he cared to look upon whenever he needed repairs…

   but she still told him, “of course. can’t afford to lose my best customer…” the smile she gave did not touch her eyes & she ended up averting her gaze. awkward. even the years-long running joke they had felt wrong, misplaced, when it rolled off her tongue. their experiences had changed them both immensely; he was not the hot-tempered teen she remembered him to be, and she was not the girl she was at sixteen, but a woman: it was only natural that their dynamic would not remain static.

   clearing her throat, she was silent until after she had finished up, screwing the grille of the arm closed. “try moving your arm. is it better? the fine motor movements should be more responsive now. it’s not perfect, but it’s the best i can do before i make the new one…”

          no ounce of insincerity in the words just spoken, and no ounce of regret either. yes, the original goal had been to see both of them returned to the respective body of flesh... but, quite frankly, with Al turned back from armor to human even with the time-space trick the Gate had played, the older brother couldn’t afford to care anymore. that was already far more than he DESERVED after everything that once occurred in Dante’s underground lair, and it wasn’t like two artificial limbs had that much of an impact in his life --- if anything, he’d grown so used to the sensation that he didn’t even pay conscious attention at this point. it would be fine like this.

          ‘ ah... that was sort of EMBARRASSING actually. ‘ pause for a small, fond smile, and to reminisce about a precious friend who’d ensured that other world was as amiable as possible. Edward had no proper words to thank him, even to this day. ‘ his name was Alfons Heiderich --- and he did look so much like Al. he was a rocket engineer... we met at the library in Munich, soon after i arrived. i was looking for books about alchemy and wanting to tear my hair off because all i’d come across with was myth and folklore, like i told you. so i climbed on a chair to try and grab the old volumes from atop this huge, dusty shelf... he talked to me and it sounded so much like Al, i actually tumbled off --- and he came to help, and it ended with a rain of books on top of us both. the library lady wasn’t happy. ‘

          genuine mirth for few brief seconds, quickly replaced by that customary sense of GUILT so overwhelming it was like being immersed in quicksand up to your nose. his fault that Alfons had to sacrifice himself, his fault that Winry had been left behind for years as though she mattered less than a trashbag in the wind. had a notion ever been more wrong in the history of this world and all the others? SILENCE fell heavily between them once more, heavier than it had any right to be, and only punctuated by the occasional tink, tink and clink, clink of metal on metal; a sound so much like Winry, so much like home. sitting back up when the procedure was concluded, Ed dutifully experimented his limb and rotated that shoulder, stretched and contracted that arm again and again, to a very satisfactory outcome.

     He watched intently as Ed moved to the floor and struggled to clap his hands together; the other one did the SAME THING when he told some of his stories. Nothing would happen, of course, but- This time something did happen! A figure, an effigy of HIMSELF created right before his eyes! The look on Alfons’s face was nothing short of dumbfounded, outright astonished. Two words of the same coin, EMPHASIS on just how amazed he was. The magic of alchemy was real and much different that what his world made it out to be.

     “  How  did  you  do  that?  “

     Immediately Alfons was on the floor seated atop his legs with his notebook on his lap. The LIGHTS, the construction of something out of thin air, astounding! Even through all of his surprise, he could feel the trickle of pride in the back of his head and encouragement. But for what? He shouldn’t feel that way towards someone that claimed it was real for years and proved it. Entertainment, awe, and satisfaction were the PRIMARY emotions at work but something else pushed at his thoughts.

    “  Can  I  try?  “

     Ed had showed him a few circles, told him the basics, it all sounded like hogwash back then. In this world pigs could FLY and what harm could there be in playing pretend? Drawing the first circle that came to mind, vividly as if by muscle memory, he tore the page out. It was simple, one the soul he didn’t know he NOURISHED used to preform his own super powers. That’s what they were, super powers, fantastical field of science.

     Setting the transmutation circle down, he looked at his ‘new’ friend and smiled. It couldn’t be that hard right? That ethereal pull sure felt CONFIDENT so he supposed it was worth a shot. The circle denotes the flow… Something about.. Uh…

     He claps his hands and presses them down, watching with wide eyes as SPARKS flew yet nothing caught fire. Instead, a rather lopsided cow formed out of the same materials as the floor. It was palm-sized, goofy, and childish. He wasn’t laughing but it sure felt like someone wanted him too.  -  “   What…  How?  Did  I  do  that?  “  ( stupid question for the guy that, indeed, did that but give him a break. he’s extremely confused. )

          it was, literally, easier than drinking a glass of milk. it’d been easy as a child as it was, pure intention focused solely on bringing a smile out of their mother --- flowers transmuted out of paper, out of glass, out of fabric, out of old withered ones. Trisha had loved flowers. ‘ it’s SIMPLE --- all you need is to know chemistry, in order to understand what the objects and materials in this world are made of, and how to draw the proper circle and equations, in order to provoke the flow of energy. ‘ and this much he’d not done, granted, but best to not dwell in it for the time being. telling a stranger of how you committed TABOO rarely ever seemed like a good idea.

‘ huh, sure. go ahead. ‘

          had this guy actually mentioned anything about being an alchemist as well? he might well have, though the astonishment in his eyes spoke more like a person who’d never witnessed anything like that before... but well, what did Edward know? his body was still far from recovered from the mess that the research lab turned out to be, and no doubt he had a handful of strong meds currently running through his system and making his head far easier to confuse than normal. fact was, at the very least, Alfons had enough knowledge to draw a circle and correctly so --- and matters could have stayed as bland as that, wasn’t it for what happened right after.

          A CLAP. a prayer to the God he did not believe in. ...wait, what? Ed’s turn to have his eyes widen like saucers, not for the transmutation itself but for the way in which it was conducted. for the circle remained placidly on the paper, untouched and unused, and the energy had been drawn instead from Alfons’ palms... just like himself could do. the one visible mark of treading forbidden territory... and yet he could not spot any limbs or organs missing in the older one’s body, at least not from the outside. expression equally BEWILDERED, he turned to face the other.

misc sentence starters (accepting) // @reigningsniper

          yes, literally so — he could see her; sitting besides his wheel chair, considerate enough to try and not look at him like he was the most pathetic thing in this world. she’d come with that Colonel Mustang apparently, and was also dressed like the military, but had kept silent for the most part… up until now. and she’d broken the silence, precisely, to offer words Ed wasn’t so sure how to process. granted, it might be the horrible, soul-crushing sense of GUILT speaking for him — making him believe he was not worth anyone’s compassion or forgiveness, was not worth any sort of care or appreciation at least until finding a way to return his little brother to the rightful body of flesh and bone. what else might he deserve, after committing the most forbidden of taboos?

          nonetheless, SOMETHING about this Hawkeye lady had him puzzled. it wasn’t her words, for she did strike him as the silent, observant type — not one to offer praise unless the person earnestly deserved it, not the type to offer comfort with an empty intention. something about her aura, however, somehow felt incredibly soothing… to the point where Edward lifted his head a little bit and stole a glance at her eyes, only to find they spoke for themselves — they agreed with what she’d just said, it hadn’t been a remark given out of pity for a child who’d made all the wrong choices. which only and thoroughly confused him more.

          hardly a soul in Resembool was fond of the military, and let alone when it came to granny. Winry’s parents had gone to war and never returned… MURDERED that they were, while doing their job and saving lives. and now these two were here to propose that Ed followed the very same path… it was so ironic, it was almost funny. the only sensible thing to do would be to send them out again in their merry way, back to Central City where they belonged together with their guns and their skirmishes and their politics. and yet… what had Ed achieved so far, in this tiny countryside village? ever since the fatal night, he’d avidly read every alchemy book he could set his hands on —well, his hand—, had practically gone through Hohenheim’s entire shelf — and had yet to come across a single useful clue about the philosopher's stone whereabouts, or any other way to undo human transmutation along with the side effects. Roy Mustang promised that, as a STATE ALCHEMIST, he would have access to all the information available at headquarters… not only the restricted section in the library, but also funds to travel wherever needed. could he truly afford to let such chance go to waste, just because the military had a sketchy reputation…? lips pursed, he grabbed the blanket covering his legs a bit tighter and finally spoke back.

my feelios ;’) i’m gonna continue this!

misc sentence starters (accepting) // @passiondreamt

          a burning knife right through his chest would have hurt less than to hear such words coming from his little brother. was this how he truly felt…? alone, even in Edward’s presence? a prompt scowl crossed the state alchemist’s features, but he held back his words for a few seconds longer. somehow, it was as though even the weather outside made everything prone to painful reminiscence and sour moods — the rattling of thick raindrops on the café’s window, soothing and distracting at the same time. Ed’s gaze fell on the mug of steamy coffee before him, and now he had to wonder if this is what his brother meant. if being alone wasn’t as much about having no friends or no company, but about being unable to taste a hot beverage or to feel rain hitting your skin… a sort of loneliness Ed could never fully relate to —and who’s to blame for it?— and such realization only turned the knot in his throat tighter. nonetheless, he forced a small smile to his lips as he spoke.

do u at least give them to shelters unlike a heartless person?