Fullmetal Alchemist Secret Santa 2020

An Equivalent Holiday Gift Exchange

[fmasecretsanta]

BEEP BOOP BEEP BOOP: IT’S TIME FOR THE FMA SECRET SANTA EVENT!

wanna make a little secret gift for the holiday season? really enjoy fma? then this is the event for u! 

check out the faq for more info :)

SIGN UPS HERE

[fmasecretsanta2020]

While we're not running the event this year, you might want to sign up to this Secret Santa instead!

[fmasecretsanta2020]

Will there be a fma secret santa for 2021?

Hi, anon,

Thank you for getting in touch!

Unfortunately, we won't be running the Secret Santa this year. While we really enjoyed organising it and are grateful for everyone who participated in previous years, between real life and other commitments, we just don't have the time to do it this year.

If anyone is thinking of running their own, please feel free to do so and let us know so we can direct people your way!

Just to let you know, Waddi is running a Moms Made Fullmetal Week with a holidays theme if that's something you might be interested in.

Thank you!

~ Flour, Tas and Waddi

[fmasecretsanta2020]

And that's a wrap!

Thank you to everyone who took part in @fmasecretsanta2020 and made wonderful gifts.

We know some gifts took a little longer, and we wish to sincerely thank our pinch hitters for stepping up and the giftees who patiently waited for their gift.

This event would be nothing without all our wonderful participants!

- Mods @waddiwasiwitch @flourchildwrites and Tas

[itsasimplereason]

Hello @accidental-child I was asked to step in and be your secret Santa this year for @fmasecretsanta2020 ! Although technically I suppose it’s last year by this point. 

Thanks for being patient and I hope you like your piece!! 

[flourchildwrites]

One is All, All is One

Izumi Curtis:  Passing Housewife, Master Alchemist and… Teacher?  It’s more likely than you think.

Fandom:  Fullmetal Alchemist:  Brotherhood & Manga

Relationships & Characters:  Izumi Curtis/Sig Curtis, Pinako Rockbell, Edward Elric, Alphonse Elric

Genre:  Family Feels, Alchemy Training, TW Canonical Reference to Child Loss

Rating:  Teen And Up Audiences

Word Count:  3,076 words

A/N:  Happy (belated) holidays, @ratsbys!  I’m your pinch-hitter for the @fmasecretsanta2020.  When I saw that you liked Izumi Curtis, I couldn’t help myself.  She’s my favorite character (hence my AO3 pseud). Thank you for waiting so patiently for your gift.  I hope you enjoy this fic as much as I enjoyed creating it for you.

Read on AO3

“How can I say no to that?  Of course, they may go.”

Izumi is almost taken aback by the ease of Pinako Rockbelk’s answer, but there seems to be a lot of that reasoning going around today.  Perhaps, this is just the effect that the Elric brothers have on ordinarily reasonable people.  Housewives suddenly agree to become teachers, and trusted guardians allow their wards to live with strangers while studying alchemy.

“My husband and I run a butcher shop in Dublith,” Izumi explains. “If the boys pass a preliminary test, they would live there with us while I teach them.  I would also insist they train in martial arts to provide a practical application for their skills.  Both aspects of the training are rigorous.  Many pupils wait until they are older to learn.”

Pinako smiles congenially. “Dublith sounds like a nice place, and I think you will find both boys are ready to learn what you have to teach, especially if they are allowed to do it together.”

The short, elderly mechanic sits opposite Izumi and puffs happily on her long pipe.  She answers each question with ease, and the passing housewife realizes that Pinako’s demeanor is unshakable. She might be doing something as mundane as ordering breakfast at her favorite local restaurant, not handing over custody of two young boys to complete strangers.

Keep reading

[lessonsfrommadamexmas]

oh, and what is this, @meridianheroine? It’s also for you! A lil extra thing since it took me longer than I expected on your secret santa gift (but I also wanted to do it a lot). @fmasecretsanta2020

[waddiwitch]

When a girl meets a boy (or Adventures in Babysitting)

A very late pinch hit for @altoinkblots for the @fmasecretsanta2020!!!!!

You said you like fluff. I hope this is fluffy enough for you.

Summary: Modern AU where Edward and Winry are students. Winry has her work cut out for her looking after the Mustang kids. Luckily she bumps into Edward at just the right time.

**********

When a girl meets a boy (or Adventures in Babysitting)

Winry pushed the stroller down the path glancing at the little girl who skipped alongside her. The young woman was happy to get outside. The sun was shining down, and while the weather was warm, it was comfortable. A college student aspired to work in bioengineering, Winry was doing some childminding for the summer.  

Working as a babysitter for the Mustang kids could be challenging. Ellie and her little brother, Christopher, were great kids but with mischief and energy that was unrivalled by any of the other kids, she looked after. Still, the Mustangs paid well.

 Read more on ao3

[tierfal]

Happy holidays and happy new year, @artisticpixie!!!!! I ended up pinch-hitting your gift for @fmasecretsanta2020! Sorry this took me a little while; it spiraled out of control like ninety-eight percent of my projects do. X’D I hope you enjoy the giant fluffball! ♥

WHERE THE HEART IS (@DW)

A year ago, when Al had said, “Brother, do you… do you want to get a house?”, Ed had said, “Sure, kid,” because that was what he said any time that Al wanted anything.

Over the course of the process, he’d come to realize that he never would have done it if the idea had come from anyone but Al.  Setting aside the fact that every last cen of their savings had just gone up in smoke—or gone into property, depending on how you looked at it—he’d had to learn and retain so much boring crap about mortgages and down payments and taxes and loans that his brain had practically dribbled out his ears after a while.

Al had enjoyed it—that was the only thing that really mattered.  Al had enjoyed every single one of the weird, jargon-heavy grownup travails of it; and they’d checked out little places all over Central; and after the first time that a real estate agent had pressured them, Roy had started joining them on their viewings, wearing his uniform, and just stood behind Ed with his gloved hands in his pockets, silent and smiling, until the agents started to sweat.

[fmasecretsanta2020]

Happy New Year @adrianna-lisbon

We're sorry for the delay in getting you your gift.

We're hoping you love this beautiful Royai piece by kaniboshi. The artist doesn't have Tumblr, so we're posting on their behalf.

[queerlytired]

for @humming-fly as part of the @fmasecretsanta2020! i hope you like it <3

[areyousanta]

@tierfal Here is your @fmasecretsanta2020 gift! Here’s an after holiday report between the Elric Bros!

Sorry it took so long to get one to you, I hope you had a wonderful holiday and I hope the new year is kind to you!

[ink-beneath-her-fingernails]

An Archive of Our Own, a project of the Organization for Transformative Works

Chapters: 1/1 Fandom: Fullmetal Alchemist - All Media Types, Fullmetal Alchemist: Brotherhood & Manga Rating: Not Rated Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death Relationships: Roy Mustang & Team Mustang, Riza Hawkeye & Roy Mustang, Alphonse Elric & Edward Elric & Roy Mustang, Maes Hughes & Roy Mustang, Alphonse Elric & Edward Elric & Team Mustang Characters: Roy Mustang, Riza Hawkeye, Alphonse Elric, Edward Elric, Heymans Breda, Kain Fuery, Maes Hughes, Jean Havoc, Team Mustang Additional Tags: Alternate Universe - Soulmates, Platonic Soulmates, Angst, Fluff, Team as Family, POV Second Person, Burns, Additional Warnings In Author’s Note, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Canon-Typical Violence, Gift Fic, FMA Secret Santa Summary:

“You know,” Breda says one day, voice carefully measured, “You can take off your gloves now. We’re in the office. Nobody’s going to attack us here.”

He isn’t looking at you, carefully shuffling around files on his desk instead, adding to the monotonous sounds of paperwork fluttering around the room, though you take note of the way the others still observe your interaction from the corners of their eyes.

“No,” You say. “I suppose not.”

The gloves stay on, anyway.

(Or: Roy Mustang has seven soulmates. He is the first to know them all, and the last.)

happy holidays, @decoloraa !! I was your secret santa for @fmasecretsanta2020 ! sorry I’m a bit late in getting this up! I hope you enjoy your gift, and have a great year!! :)

[lioncubofboone]

The Dragon and the Gate of Truth (FMAB Secret Santa Piece)

Happy Holidays, @strawbebehmod !

I was your Secret Santa for @fmasecretsanta2020​! I really hope you enjoy it and have a lovely new year! I heard you love AU’s and dragons, hope this is enjoyable.

Rating: General

Categories: Gen, Crossover—His Dark Materials series

Relationships: Edward Elric&Alphonse Elric, Edward Elric & Riza Hawkeye, Edward Elric & Folia (Daemon)

Additional Tags: angst, crossover, AU

T/W C/W Blood, loss of limbs

Word Count: 1280

A/N: Inspired by the Dark Materials series and @strawbebehmod ‘s Pet Dragon AU.

If you aren’t familiar with The Golden Compass, please read it! But, to make it easier, Daemons are a visible portion of someone’s soul, they are sentient with personalities and portray themselves as creatures. As children, Dameons can shift into any form they please. Once they reach maturity, they usually settle into one form. A Daemon’s bond with their human can be forcefully broken.

In a flash of light, Al was gone.

               The blood was sticky and warm between Edward’s fingers. He wanted to cry, to retch, to run. But Al was gone, and he knew he had to open the gate again.

               “Ed…” Folia’s voice was soft in his ear, and he almost didn’t hear her over the thunderous beat of his own heart.

               “You know I have to,” he managed. His breath came in quick pants, why can’t he breathe? He heaved his weak body to the set of empty armor that had stood guard over their ritual, pulling it down into his arms. His hands shook so badly that he could barely remove the heavy helmet, and there was Folia, shifting her skin again to help him. His perfect little Daemon. She became a monkey, clambering up the armor to pull of the head and set it aside before retuning to her station at eds shoulder. He felt his hair ruffle as she shifted again, back to her preferred form, a little dragon, her scales the same wheat as his hair.

She’ll settle soon, he thought absently as he dipped his fingers in the ichor coating the floor and traced careful lines in the chest of the armor. I wonder if she’ll stay like this, little and warm.

All thoughts were lost as he clambered back to the lines inscribed on the floor and laid his palms along them. He felt Folia nuzzle his ear, in support, he thought. He heard her huff words he almost missed through the crackle of electricity as the circle activated.

“Edward… don’t forget our souls are one. And please… come back for me.”

The most excruciating pain he’d ever felt coursed through his body as the gate closed. But not from his limbs, as he’d expected, another gone to pay the toll. No, this pain came from his chest, extending through his body, lighting his nerves afire. When it finally subsided to a dull ache, he realized Folia wasn’t on his shoulder any longer. He didn’t have the energy to process this thought, only dully aware that the armor was standing and crying out to him in his little brother’s voice, eyes blurry as he watched Alphonse’s daemon tear scraps of fabric from his shirt to wrap around his legs. The pain coursed through him as the metal fingers probed his wound and tied it off, but the fire on his skin was a dull ache compared to the hot coals sitting in his chest, threatening to set him alight. He let his eyes slid closed. Al was home, all would be okay.

—

All would not be okay.

Each time Edward awoke over the next few days, it was to the sight of anxious faces hovering over him, dressing his wound and laying cold cloths against his forehead. Never to the warmth of Folia’s scales at the crook of his neck where she liked to lay, never to the comforting awareness of her that stayed on the edge of his mind. Only to terrifying emptiness, and the feeling of being alone.

On the third day, as his natural pain dampeners wore off, he awoke to the full pain of his severed leg. No longer able to sleep through the ache, and the fever that clouded his mind receding, a heavy fact settled into his mind: Folia knew, before he opened the gate. She knew she would be the toll. He couldn’t fathom how, but his little daemon had always had more of an aptitude for alchemy than even he had.

“She knew…” he croaked. “She knew, and she let me anyways.”

Cold, metal fingers found his hand and the tears that slipped from his eyes felt cool against his fevered skin. This would be the last time he cried, he vowed. So in the quiet dark of the room, with Al’s hand in his, he let himself mourn. For the pain he had caused his little brother and the flesh the gate and stolen from them, for the fear of unknown at where their lives turned next, and for the piece of his soul he’d left on the other side.

—

There is a hollowness to those that have lost their daemon, like the light-up eyes of a doll going dark. It’s not something most people notice right of the bat. First, they see a tired boy, walking on an auto mail leg. Second, they see a suit of armor trailing behind. Their eyes catch the Daemon perched atop the suit of armor and instinctively run their eyes over the shorter boy, searching. When they don’t find his daemon, it clicks, and their hearts pour over with pity.

The Elrics soon find they are violently allergic to pity. So, Alphonse begins tucking Daichi inside his armor, making it easier for the white lie to slip past Edward’s lips: “Our daemons are shy. They won’t come out around strangers.”

And that usually works.

But when a Colonel and his Lieutenant come marching into Resembool and up the steps of the Rockbell home, the duo that enters has a unique history that allows them to see through that lie. Mustang sees the dark shadows beneath Edward’s eyes, sees how he stares into space sometimes, how he instinctively reaches his hand to his left shoulder as if to grab something there, only to drop his hand and try and hide the pain flashing across his face. And Riza Hawkeye recognizes the pain.

It will be years before Riza will say the words aloud to Edward, sitting in her kitchen in the dead of night, telling tales of tragedy and war. There she will explain to Edward how she knew, from the moment she saw him back in Resembool, that a piece of his soul had been ripped away from him, as hers had been as a child. She will tell him of how she tried—and failed—to not let tears fall on the train home. She doesn’t tell him this to show her pity. Quite the opposite. She tells Edward this to remind him of the faith Mustang had had in the boys from the moment he’d met them.

“They’ll be alright,” Roy had told her on the train ride home. He didn’t acknowledge the tears the forcefully wiped away as she looked out the window, but he knew she was listening. She always was.

“They’re strong. His Daemon is on the other side of the gate. He can get her back. I’m… sorry you cannot. But he can get her back. We’ve got to help them.”

–

When Al opened the gate on his own, years later, he saw a sight he never believed he would. His own Body, sitting and waiting for him, joy in its amber eyes. And a tiny, golden dragon napping lightly in its arms.

“I’ll be back for you,” He promised. Folia lifted her head at his voice, cocking it inquisitively. “And Ed will be back for you. He’s missed you so.”

She blinked slowly at him, cat-like, then laid her head back onto the bare thigh of Al’s body. His body smiled patiently at him, stroking the scales of Folia’s back.

We will be waiting.

When Al stumbled back through, he rushed to his brother’s side. In the chaos, it was moments before they could speak, dodging Father’s attacks, yelling over the din of war around them.

“I saw my body, Brother. And I saw Folia.”

Ed stopped dead, shock freezing his features as he looked up at Al. Then, a fierce grin broke out.

“If they’re waiting, then we better get moving and get them back, huh, Al?”

I had a blast writing this, and might continue in this universe in future fics. Comments are greatly appreciated! 

[dragonsdenart]

Heey @nanoko-aishino I’m your Secret Santa!! Barely made it int time XD got a bit carried away with all the fluffiness whoops. Hope you like it! Sending the warmest of vibes your way, hope you had a lovely Xmas!!

This was my first ever FMA fanart <3 thanks for the patience.

@fmasecretsanta2020

[shocotate]

An Archive of Our Own, a project of the Organization for Transformative Works

Also on ff.net here!

Rating: G

Characters: Edward, Alphonse, Izumi Curtis

Summary: While on an errand during their training in Dublith, Ed and Al sneak off to watch a movie.

Notes: Surprise @justanotherghostwriter, I was your secret santa for @fmasecretsanta2020! You said you liked Ed and Al, so I hope you enjoy this fluffy fic set during their alchemy training :) I may add a little epilogue to it at some point as well.

[teaaavis]

a little something (and happy new year!)

Heyo there, @royaidaydreams! I’m your secret santa, and I apologize for the extremely late gift; I hope that I could have sent this earlier. You preferred Royai and nothing else (lol) so here goes! I hope you enjoy!!! (I don’t use AO3 or anything but if I did I would link it for you, sorry.) Also, huge thanks to @fmasecretsanta2020 for organzing this unbelievable event!!!

Keep reading

[anthropwashere]

Perpetual Motion Machine

Hey @o-i-have-too! I’m your (late) gifter for the @fmasecretsanta2020 event. You asked for Elric fun and I come bearing soul alchemy goofs. Real life got a bit weird and as such this isn’t the full fic I was hoping to write for you, but I think it’s a decent one-shot on it’s own. The premise is a bit of a CoS-pull but it’s not a crossover and you don’t need to have seen the movie. All you need to know is that Alphonse “let’s fuck around and find out” Elric is here to have a good epilogue and that is a threat. :)

Title comes from the Modest Mouse song of the same name. 

===

They’re not back in Resembool two days before The Accident happens. That’s not what they call it at the time, of course, but the exasperated capitalization creeps into their voices more and more after the fact and retroactively gives The Accident a kind of resigned importance. Frankly Alphonse only made a big deal out of it at the time because it had startled him, is all. After that, well, it was just interesting. Edward and Winry had no reason at all to run around like chickens with their heads cut off when it happened. It was fine. He was fine, and remains fine after the fact for that matter.

It really had been an accident, is the thing.

=

The Accident happens just after lunch. Granny goes to let Den out and enjoy a smoke on the porch and Edward and Winry go get ready to head into town, bickering cheerfully on their way out of the kitchen. Alphonse declines to go with them, already tired from a busy morning and not wanting to slow them down. He smiles into his teacup—coffee is still too shockingly bitter for all that he can’t get enough of the smell of it—while listening to their voices fade down the hall. It’s when he sets his cup down that he happens to catch sight of a pan on the wall with a crack in the handle.

Well, that’s odd, isn’t it? It must have happened recently and neither Winry nor Granny have gotten around to fixing it, or it’s not a pan they’re interested in keeping much longer. Curious despite his tiredness, Alphonse eases to his feet and crutch to get a better look. It does look pretty old, once he’s face-to-face with it. It wouldn’t be hard to fix though, and it’d go even faster with alchemy. He’s only done a few transmutations since the Promised Day and they’ve all somehow been both harder and easier than he’s used to them being, courtesy a combination of Scar’s nationwide transmutation circle and the whole inhabiting a human body again thing. It’s a bit awkward with the crutch, but the circle is so simple that it’s practically a background thought as he claps his hands and touches them to the pan—

—and without warning there’s a bizarre sort of lurch, and he’s face-to-face with himself.

“Uh,” he says from two disparate vantage points, and once more for good measure, “Uh.”

He blinks with one pair of eyes. The other pair don’t exist, technically, and don’t have eyelids to blink with. It makes his vision jitter in a way he doesn’t think should be described as awful, but it’s certainly not pleasant. He closes the pair of eyes capable of doing so and watches himself close his eyes with the other. Then he watches his face twist; first with confusion, then dismay, then earnest alarm. “Oh,” he says, and has a front row seat to the weird show of watching his own skinny face in motion, “Oh, no. No, absolutely n—fine. This is—fine. I’m fine. I can fix this. I—oh, hell—”

The oh, hell isn’t directed at the situation he’s found himself in, disorienting as it may be, but at the voices coming back toward the kitchen. Edward’s going to take one look at him and know something’s wrong, and Alphonse won’t even be able to mock him for overreacting because no really, how did he bungle a simple transmutation this badly—

“We’re headin’ out,” Edward shouts, and on reflex Alphonse looks at the doorway and gets to experience the uniquely indescribable misstep of looking left with one pair of eyes while the other pair remains stubbornly fixed in place. 

“Nngh.”

Winry hears him, because of course that’s his luck, and he sort of sees her poke her head into the kitchen. “Al? Y'okay?”

He really does try to brush it off, to get them out of the house so he can figure out whatever the fuck is happening on his own, but when he tries to wave them off the disconnect between simultaneously inhabiting a human body and not hits him like a blow to the head. He staggers hard. The next thing he’s peripherally aware of is Winry and Edward helping him back to the dining table, alternating between babbling sweet nothings and panicked everythings in his ears, all while watching himself get strong-armed into a chair from across the room. They’re both loudly asking him variations of what the fuck, so he swallows until he can trust his voice and tells them with as much urgency as he can muster, “Frying pan.”

They boggle at him. “What?”

“I’m in the frying pan.”

“What?”

Keep reading