Shardy (alchephiliac) wrote in fm_alchemist,

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FMA 100 themes: 4/100

So, before the storm hits and I'll hafta get off the internet (because my mother won't let me run the risk of lightning coming through the phone line and electricuting me--yes, I know, no fun at all *pout*), I decided to post the first 4 themes of my FMA 100 theme.

Most of these are drabbles. Pairings are various, and probably random and weird. No pairing has been assigned to a theme. I just write what the muses tell me.


-Theme #001-

She shivered violently under the covers, knowing somewhere in the deeper recesses of her mind that she had forgotten to close her window for the night, yet was too tired to rise and fix the problem. Body shaking and prickling with goosebumps, she tried to wrap her comforter tighter about her. Unfortunately, the chill still seeped through her, ripping apart any attempt for warmth.

He awoke, sensing her discomfort. Instantly, he pressed his body against hers as he laid down, resting his head upon the soft junction of her neck. The heat of his being slipped into her skin and she finally stopped shivering.

Riza Hawkeye smiled to herself as she snuggled closer to him, whispering lovingly, “Goodnight, Hayate.”

-Theme #002-

He looked away, unable to stand seeing Winry cry like that. Ed always hated it when she cried. Even ever since he could remember. It wasn’t because he didn’t want to see her hurt and all that sentimental crap; he just hated feeling obligated to comfort her. And, for someone like Edward Elric, comfort was not so easily offered. So, here they were now, standing outside during what was supposed to be a gorgeous day, Winry sobbing her pretty blue eyes out, and Ed at a complete loss of what to do.

He already had a shower today. No need for another one.

Unable to take any more of her blubbering, Ed approached her and, in a movement too fast for Winry to react, kicked under her ankle so that she fell unceremoniously on her rump. She was taller than him and he wasn’t going to stand for that if he had to force himself to make her feel better.

“Ed, that hurt!” she exclaimed angrily, however he ignored her as he settled on his knees and leaned in close.

“Quit crying,” he ordered, voice soft but no less firm. “I hate it when you cry.”


“I said quit your damn crying already!”

This only caused her eyes to water over even more, and he growled under his breath in frustration. It was then a particular large, supple tear slinked a slow descent down her face. Unable to resist, Ed’s lips darted forward to capture the plump drop of sorrow with his tongue.

They both froze in place for reasons both entirely different and all the same, faces blushing vividly.


Mortified and violated, Winry jumped to her feet, clenching her trusty wrench at her side as it gleamed in silver triumph. “I can’t believe you, Ed!” she shrieked in rage. “You’ve got to be the most disgusting boy I’ve ever known!”

As she stormed off into the house, Ed just lay in the grass, trying to ignore the throbbing pain on the side of his head which was a little too close to his temple for comfort. Involuntarily, he licked the last remnants of her tear still clinging to his lips.

Salt never tasted so good…

-Theme #003-
Young Ed/Winry

“You’re such a klutz, Winry,” six-year-old Ed remarked, rolling his gold eyes heavenward.

Winry sniffled a couple of times as she sat on the ground where she had fallen not two minutes ago, glaring at him. “Well, I didn’t see that rock there,” she argued in self-defense.

“Then you must be blind, too!”

“Stop being so mean, Eddie!”

He looked taken aback. “I’m not being mean. I’m telling the truth.”

“Yes, you are!” Winry continued to yell at the top of her voice. “Meanie! Eddie’s a big meanie head!”

“Whatever. I’m going home.”

He didn’t even take three steps when a bloodcurdling wail broke the atmosphere. “EDDIEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!”


He was completely shocked to see her still sitting there on the ground, this time her arms crossed in defiance. “A gentleman should pick up a lady when she falls,” Winry chided haughtily.

Ed snorted. “You ain’t no lady!”

“Pick me up or I’m telling your mommy!”

“Go ahead and tell my mommy!”

Winry’s eyes suddenly took on a sly glint and she smiled sweetly. “I’ll tell Alphonse.”

Okay, that he could not live with. Gritting his teeth, Ed stomped back over to Winry and wrapped his arms tightly around her waist. He barely lifted her half an inch off the ground. Frowning, he squared his shoulders, bent his knees a little more and made a throaty, heaving sound as he tried again. Maybe an inch and a half this time.

“Wouldn’t it be easier if you just carried me on your back?” Winry inquired.

Why must she always insist on challenging his intelligence?

Growling, he kneeled down onto his knees so that she could climb onto him. Once she was secure, Ed curled his arms under her legs, stood up--

--and fell flat on his face.

“Eddie!” Winry wailed, but hardly out of concern for his well-being even if slamming one’s nose onto solid earth was not a pleasant sound. In fact, she was still angry. “I thought you were supposed to be the strong brother!”

“I AM!” Ed screamed indignantly, his voice muffled by grass. “You’re too heavy!”

Winry’s face paled and new tears sprung to her eyes. “So…” she choked out. “So…you’re saying that…that I’m fat!?”

Ed jerked his face up, several patches of dirt still clinging stubbornly to his cheeks and forehead and some blood was dripping from his nose. “No, Winry--!” he protested in a sense of panic. It was one thing seeing her cry. It was totally something else when you’re the one who instigated the crying.

“Yes, you did!” Winry yelled. “Meanie, Ed! Calling me fat! I’m telling your mommy!” She took off toward the house, and Ed, once he managed to regain his sense of balance, sped after her.

-Theme #004-

“Aw! But I always have it!”

“Well, I guess you ain’t getting it this time. And why me? Why can’t you get someone else to do it?”

“Because you’re special, Edward.”

“Special, my ass. What’s that got to do with it?”


“Pfft! You just make me do it because I happen to be here. Why can’t you do it for once?”

“I’m too comfortable.”

“Lazy bastard.”

“Sooo…aren’t you going to do it?”

“I’m not doing it this time. You always make it do it, and quite frankly, I’m really sick of it.”

“It’s just once a day.”

“Once a day! You’re never satisfied!”

“How can you possibly understand, Edward? You absolutely refuse to taste the luscious thick, warmth oozing down your throat with each--”

“By your description, it’s little wonder that I do refuse. Besides, I like mine a different way, anyway. Straight from the source with no modifications, thank you.”

“Okay, how about this?”

Roy Mustang stood up, puffing his chest out a little, and pointed straight at Ed. “Fullmetal, I order you as your superior officer and Colonel of the State to fetch me my coffee cream.”

Ed blinked at him for a moment, before his eyes narrowed in a growl of defeat. “I hate you,” he snarled as he turned on his heel to depart for the break room.

“And be sure to get apricot blended with french vanilla!” Roy called after him with jubilant anticipation for his every-morning coffee. “It’s my favorite!”

I try not to believe so, but I have waaay too much time on my hands. ^^;;

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