(n.) the desire to stay in the sun; love of sunlight
cws; mentions of scars, mentions of ed's past, this is based on 'brotherhood' and takes place after the fight with father.
850 words.
You liked the sun. Loved it, even.
The warmth its light brought to those lucky enough to bask in it, the promises it held—of new days, new beginnings. The way it climbed the sky every morning like it had something to prove, especially after a particularly dark and chilled night. The struggles it had endured and overcome—its quiet perseverance. You admired that. Every scar, every imperfection it thought it had.
You were truly, irrevocably in love with the sun, without a shadow of a doubt.
Edward was (like) the sun.
Bright. Relentless in his pursuit of knowledge. Burning with a passion that couldn’t be extinguished, not by pain, not by loss. He was warmth in the best way, gently kissing your skin, enveloping you in his sweet embrace. Wrapped in sharp edges. A flame that was cradled and tended to by calloused hands.
He gave, and gave, and gave—selfless to a fault. Sacrificed without hesitation. Burdened himself with a guilt that he believed was his alone to carry. He masked his pain, stood tall even as the world tried to bring him down.
And yet, like the sun, he always rose.
You saw it in the way his eyes caught the light—golden and stubborn, always shining in his resolve. In his hair, either messily tied back, or on the rare occasion he’d let it flow freely, with strands that slipped loose and shimmered like daybreak when they caught the breeze. In his skin—sun-touched, freckled, and weathered by years of fights, whether with others or within himself—each mark a silent testament to all he’d endured. He was always waging some kind of war. A quiet, ongoing battle in his mind against grief and resentment: grief for losing his mother, and resentment—so much resentment—for trying to bring her back. For losing his younger brother’s body. For not being enough, even when he gave everything.
You saw it in his bones, forged from resolve, the kind that didnt break or falter, even when they ached. And you saw it in his soul—his beautiful, beautiful soul—resilient, fierce, and so full of love it hurt to look at sometimes. He wasn’t some untouchable god, even the power of alchemy couldn’t make him as much. He was just a boy. One who had lost it all yet carried that pain, and grew from it.
You never told him this comparison out loud.
You didn’t need to.
You showed him. Showed him in simple actions, in gentle touches, in the way you looked at him like he hung the stars himself. And he let you. He let you see him. Let you love him, even when he didn’t always know how to love himself.
And that, in itself, was a kind of miracle.
The sun hung low in the sky, warm and honey-colored, casting everything in a soft glow. Birds trilled somewhere among the tall grass, and the breeze carried the scent of wildflowers. Your paints were spread out beside you—open jars of color, half-used brushes, smudges on your hands and skirt—scattered in a beautiful mess.
Edward lay on his stomach, arms folded beneath his head, his shirt tossed somewhere in the scattered mess of palettes and pigment as you straddled his lower back. You’d picked up painting sometime after he’d gone west—at first, something to pass the time, something to keep your hands busy rather than let your heart dwell too long on the waiting. Then, slowly, it became something else. A quiet ritual. A way to translate the things you felt but couldn’t always say out loud.
It was peaceful. Passionate. Vibrant. It felt like you.
You never realized the luxury—the stillness—of painting until you started. The act of creating something just because it brought you joy, not because it served a purpose or saved a life. It was simply comforting, and now, you couldn’t stop. You didn’t want to.
Turns out, not constantly fighting for your lives was kind of nice.
You pressed the brush to his shoulder blade, watching the color bloom against his skin—blossoms of ochre and burnt sienna, smudging over freckles and old scars. You started with a golden sun, small and shining between his shoulder blades, its rays stretching outward in lazy arcs.
Around it, you added petals—marigolds, daffodils, and little sprigs of yarrow, things you’d studied and sketched during your free time. Flowers that represent strength, healing, new beginnings.
Things he never asked for, but had always deserved.
You didn’t rush. You took your time with each stroke, letting the colors blend and layer into one another. It wasn’t perfect, but it felt right. Every once in a while, you’d lean down and press a kiss to his back. To the sun you painted, to the petals around it, to the parts of him that had scarred and healed and endured. He didn’t say anything, but he didn’t need to. The soft rise and fall of his breath said enough.
He liked to think you were the one who brought the light.
But to you—
He was the living embodiment of the sun.
And you had always loved the sun.
no an really, i don’t expect engagement with this post cause the fandom is practically dead and i wrote this for fun… i really love edward elric it’s a bit of an obsession. my golden boy deserves all the love in the world 🔆
There is just something that hits so different with 03 Edward. He’s so angelic and bittersweet, somber and soft. CoS is truly my favorite version of him. Although I ofc love manga/hood Ed, it’s just such a different ending that shapes him as a character.
I think at the end of the day, 03 Edward is more like Trisha. While manga/hood pushes that Ed takes after Hohenheim.
COS Edward, for @suiilee ,for no particular reason. With glasses, also for no reason, I just like to give people glasses. @suiilee you keep reminding me of COS, I will need to watch it again soon. I remember when the movie first came out I loved that he had a pony tail - that was before he had one in the manga. Those were the days, eh?
P.S. get sticker here
Tags/Warnings: Aside from canon typical violence of FMA, nothing would warrant a tag.
Notes: So this is actually kind of related to one of my other series. I’m just a sucker for time travel or reality jumping; and I’m an especially sucker for FMA 03/ Conqueror of Shamballa, Ed especially. This also pays off the idea of Edward not going back to Earth at the end of CoS, so both he and Al stayed in Amestris.
Music
Roy Mustang was no fool. He tended to pride himself on his intelligence. It was something that got him through years and years of alchemy training; an occurrence that would usually break a lesser man. He usually thought he was up to date on things; especially things that involved the people of this country. When he was in Ishval, and the sands and blood would not let him sleep; with the chance of him rightfully dying by the hands of an Ishvalan raising each night, he made a promise. Maes had been witness to said decree, as though it were wedding vows Roy took to the nation of Amestris. He wanted to protect her people. And if that meant keeping up to date with a supposed killer that was taking the lives of his fellow State Alchemist, no matter their opinion on the war in Ishval, then Roy would do so. They were still citizens, just like the people he had been “protecting” while fighting in the desert.
Yet here he was, wallowing inside while watching the rain fall in sheets. It was not as heavy as usual storms that rolled through Central during this season; though that did not mean it was a light rain. It poured, straight down as he glanced out his office window. Feeling claustrophobic, like the walls were going to burst from the water pressing down on them, he sighed and stood. Hawkeye blinked, a little confused at first, probably thinking she was going to have to threaten him to get him to do his work. However the glazed and sort of ‘thousand yard stare’ that had formed over his face had her staying her hand. Instead, she just followed him out of the room. A quick call to the rest of the team to tell them where they were going and they headed out into the hallway. Roy, well, he just had to get out of the room. He continued down until finding a quiet area, a dead end to his right that lead to a window. While he would have preferred a sunny view, it was better than being in his office.
Instead of explain anything, Roy took a seat, leaning his head back against the wall with a long groan. He was only in his 30’s yet he felt like he was a hundred years old. Every part of his body hurt, and there was a part of him that could not help but wonder if it was because he had a desk job now. Joining the military, well… that never really had been in his future, at least the one he could see. When they were all shipped off to Ishval, that became his world view. The shouts of being a weapon and not being a human stuck with him. Weapons did not sit down and do paper work. They would grow rusty if they did such a thing; rust and then fade away. Roy needed to be out on the battlefield. That was all he was good for anymore, as much as he dreaded the thought of killing any longer for the sake of killing. Perhaps he needed to amend his morals though. He would kill to protect the ones he loved. There was no doubt about that.
Unsurprisingly, it didn’t take long for someone to find him, and by someone he meant Hughes. That was not incredibly shocking considering what they were looking at that morning. However Roy had it in him to hope and pray that he would get a few extra minutes of silence. Hughes was no god, nor Armstrong who was striding along beside him. “Hello Roy.” He said with a smile lost of the usual jovial outlook. Hawkeye saluted beside Roy, allowing Hughes to nod for her to relax before Hughes sat down on the bench in front of Roy. Armstrong took up his position beside Hughes, mirroring Hawkeye as the two CO’s spoke with one another. For the first time in a long time, Roy was actually wanting to hear Hughes go on for as long as he pleased.
“Scar? Because of his face?” Roy questioned. Not the facts Hughes was giving him, just the reasoning. Though he could understand giving an elusive murderer a name such as that. When you had little info on someone, and something like a giant scar as an indicator, ‘Scar’ was as good as any other name. It happened quite a bit in Ishval when they first got out there; when it was considered a real “war” and not just a slaughter and a genocide.
“Yeah we don’t really know anything else about him so that’s what we call him.” Hughes yawned. Obviously the Scar case was taking a bunch of his time; sleeping included. Armstrong shuffled beside him, looking about a quarter of his giant size.
Those soft, yet small blue eyes caught Roy’s and Hawkeye’s. “Our target is both unidentified an elusive. The only information we have been able to obtain about him is that he has a large scar on his forehead.” Once again, making quite a bit of sense. Anyone could change their clothing; but a giant scar on your face was a little harder to hide, especially for someone avoiding a nationwide manhunt at the moment. It was not as though Scar could just walk into a makeup store and get some supplies to cover up his markings.
“Yes I’ve heard stories about that man. That’s who you are trying to hunt down.” The sound of the rain at the end of the hallway and the silence between the four of them was getting to him. He whispered those words simply to fill the space and to shorten the time of quiet that filled the air. Thankfully it seemed as though Hughes was on his wavelength much more than Roy truly realized.
“By order of the military police command center. Meanwhile all my other work is piling up. Ugh my head hurts.” Hughes knocked his temple with his knuckles and Roy could not help but crack a small smile. The man was light hearted when he needed to be, reading the room better than most could. Perhaps that was part of the reason Roy took such a shining to Hughes. It was like magic; how he could soothe the burning sensation in Roy’s chest like a much needed balm to a wound.
Once again, Armstrong made a shuffling movement, something he seemed to do before he needed to speak. Though it was enough to have Roy and Hawkeye turning to him. “He’s killed five people in Central. All state alchemist. His body count nationwide is up to ten.” Five people in Central. That really was…not good. Half of his victims in one city. Though Central was the most likely place you would find State Alchemist. Scar was nothing if not smart, Roy could give him that.
“Five days ago he took down old man Grand.” Hughes said at the end of Armstrong’s sentence, shocking Roy enough for him to drop his jaw. He honestly felt his blood ran cold.
“The Brigadier General? But he’s an expert in weapons transmutation!” Roy felt sick to his stomach, and now it was not just because of the rain. His heart was going to beat out of his chest even as Hawkeye took a step closer to him, always vigilant for his safety. To take down Grand? Roy had his fair share of sparring sessions with Grand in the past. While he did eventually win each time, it had been a hard fought spar. The man was good at what he did; it was just lucky that very few alchemist could decipher Roy’s own flame alchemy. Perhaps the only ones that could were two children, as strange as that sounded. But while Grand was good at what he did, Fullmetal was better at everything; with Alphonse a close second.
“That shows you how dangerous this guy is. You should increase your escort and lay low for a while. Nobody would blame you. Please. I’m asking as your friend. You and Tucker are the only state alchemist of note in this area right?” Concern dripped from Hughes’s voice as he spoke, eyes doing that thing where they got all genuinely soft and full of fear for Roy. It was understandable. Roy would be the same if their situations were reversed. However Hughes had refused to learn alchemy so here Roy was with a huge target on his back because he was foolish enough to believe he should have pride in his country as he fought to “protect” those he wished to one day lead.
As he sat there wallowing in self-pity, reality came crashing back down on him. Him and Tucker being the only State Alchemist in the area? Roy could think of one other.
“Oh no.”
~’~
Alphonse Elric was much smarter than most people made him out to be. His older brother knew how smart he was, but Al tended to be quieter; and that was probably why everyone thought his older brother was the only one. Edward just tended to attract attention that way.
Being much smarter than people though, Al guided his brother away from the random man that was trying to kill them. For the most part, it seemed like a good idea. Al could see above others if there was a block in the road, plus he could spot alleyways and other escape routes before his older brother could. Yet, even geniuses like him could come up with bad ideas occasionally. They were blocked into an alleyway, their only route of escape either alchemically getting up onto a roof; or fighting the man in front of them. And considering the amount of damage the man already did, well neither were really keen on allowing the man get away. The chance of a civilian getting hurt in the crossfire was too great. So both decided it was time to at the very least, subdue the man and wait for the MP’s to get there and take over.
It was like any other formation they would use. Their alchemy skills could over power most enemies they stumbled across. Not this man. With a swipe of his hand as they got within fighting range, Al’s metal body nearly exploded; his entire mid-section obliterated enough to render him immobile. Though there was something surprising; something that the man did not seem to realize would happen either. Edward’s body was covered in a puff of smoke that felt thicker from the rain.
And it was not Edward that stumbled out of the cloud. At least not… well at least not the Edward Alphonse knew. This Edward was distinctly older, if not from how tall he had become, then from the muted brown coat he wore over a brown vest and dark slacks. The entire area seemed to freeze as this Edward gained his bearings, glancing around and taking in the scene before him. “Brother?” Al felt young, felt so tiny and not like a 7 foot tall suit of metal armor. Especially when those familiar warm eyes found his form and turned into something fierce. This Edward spotted the man and let a wicked smile form over his face.
“Ah, Scar. It has been quite a while. I’m guessing you were the one to have done this to Alphonse?” Even Edward’s voice was deeper; though not by much. A question was obviously on the tip of “Scar’s” tongue, probably wondering as to if this was the same Edward Elric that he had been fighting against just moments prior. Though it vanished when he spotted the telltale sign of a State Alchemist; that silver pocket watch hanging from Edward’s lean hips.
As Scar stalked towards his brother, Alphonse saw a smile that made him sure it was Edward Elric standing before them, no matter how different he looked. Only his older brother could look gleeful for a fight like this. “That’s right. Pick on someone your own size.” Ed said before transmuting his iconic spear, taking off towards Scar.
~’~
The scene they stumbled upon was something distinctly flavored with Edward Elric’s touch. The street had quite a few trails of transmutation about it; though as they set up a barricade they had not spotted Edward nor Alphonse. And as worried as Roy was becoming, he knew it was unwarranted; at least for the time being.
Havoc was just reporting that they finished the three square block barricade when a familiar blond headed young man came tumbling out of an alleyway; his body rolling for a moment before stopping; arms stretched above his head and his legs out…
That was not what Edward had been wearing the last time Roy saw him. That was not what Edward had been wearing at any point in their communications since they met. He knew Edward rarely dropped that bright red coat and it was nowhere to be seen. Plus, Roy knew Fullmetal wore black under that coat. This young man, with that same brilliant golden hair, was wearing slacks and a button down and a brown vest. There was a brief moment Roy was worried it was a civilian that got caught up in the mess. That is until the blond moved, jumping as Scar came crashing down with a shock of what could only be alchemy, leaving a crater in his wake.
There was no mistaking it. That was, “Edward?” He heard Hawkeye mutter beside him, and while she was unlikely looking at Roy, he could only nod. There was no denying it. The person fighting scar with relative ease was in fact Edward Elric. At least there was no way it could be anyone else. It was hard to find anyone on the planet with that eye color and that hair color. Alchemy without a transmutation circle was also incredible difficult to fake.
He waited for an opening, watching this older Fullmetal fight Scar. He was brilliant, obviously having learned quite a bit; considering how old this Edward Elric was. They continue, sparks flying as he swung that spear around; cutting Scar quite a few times. And then he screamed forwards with a punch, an iconic Edward Elric move. Yet this had a much different effect then simple hand to hand combat. Scar was blasted backwards against a wall as Edward simply flipped away with his backwards moment, seemingly knowing that would be the outcome. And that was their opening, Hawkeye recognizing it as well.
The gunshots echoed against the street as she shot a handful of bullets. “Did you get him?” Roy asked, wanting this entire thing to be over.
A mix of feelings rushed over him at the following events. An Ishvalan. Why was he not surprised that an Ishvalan would want to kill State Alchemist? Oh yeah, because it was only right for an Ishvalan to want revenge. It seemed obvious now that he thought about it. It wasn’t like many other people had a big grudge against State Alchemist. He could not help but rub his eyes as he walked over to the crater in the ground that Scar had created to escape. They would have to search the sewers, but there was something else he wanted to check up on. His eyes turned to where Edward and Alphonse was. His heart twisted at the sight of Alphonse. Of course his older brother, no matter what weirdness he had gotten into, would be furiously fighting Scar. Alphonse could disguise himself as a hunk of scrap metal with the number Scar did on him. The two brothers held a quiet conversation; obviously Alphonse the one asking a dozen questions considering the sudden change in Edward’s appearance. The younger brother as sure to know more than any of Roy’s team, but he would still know less than Edward himself.
Once their conversation ended, and Edward asked for a few of the soldiers to help pick up Alphonse and get him to the office, the blond headed in Roy’s direction. At first, it didn’t seem as though Edward had caught sight of him. When he did, there was such a drastic shift in the blonde’s aura that Roy himself had to make up for it. Hughes was hovering over his shoulder as Edward walked up to him. His eyes caught sight of Hughes first, swallowing a lump in his throat that Roy really did not want to question. When they shifted to Roy, Edward’s cheeks dusted with pink; his eyes flickering with an emotion that Roy did not want to pin down.
Though he was curious about the blush. He would have to question about that later, if there was a later. Right now, he just stared back at Edward, hiding his own confusion behind a trademarked cocky Roy Mustang smirk. He nearly felt it falter when Edward’s head tilted to the side, some of his long blonde hair having slipped from his pony tail and sticking to his face in the rain. Those lips, lips that Roy had not paid much attention to until now, parted. Roy could not help it; could not help the fact that Edward had obviously grown into a striking young man. There was no way Edward could be any younger than 20, standing before him as he bit his lip and looked down and away; rubbing his hands together. It had Roy nearly bursting into a red flustered mess as well. Thankfully he had years to contain himself.
Whatever time or reality, wherever this Edward Elric came from, he was distractingly and starkly stunning. Enough so that Roy nearly missed what Edward said. “Sorry,” He let out a little laugh as Hughes stepped around Roy to look at Edward better. Havoc and the others stood at the read with Alphonse in an ambulance to take him wherever Edward needed. “I just haven’t seen you without your eyepatch in years.” Well that was… “I’m beginning to think that array I was messing with did more than I was thinking it would.” Ah. Of course it would just so happen Edward was messing with an array gone awry. But an array for what? Time travel? Or something else entirely. For the time being, Roy had to go on that hypothesis, the array being connected to a form of time manipulation.
When Edward took a step forwards, shockingly far taller than the last time Roy saw him, he narrowed his eyes at Roy’s medals and the markings on his shoulder. If it were not for Hughes with an annoyingly plotting look on his face that said he already had everything planned out and a firm hand on the middle of Roy’s back, Roy would have stumbled backwards. Now Edward was close enough for Roy to smell the sweat from the fight, even with the rain still pouring down on them. His golden hair now curled slightly, framing his lean face. His human hand reached up and fiddled with the medals and then reached past those to Roy’s shoulder. Those long fingers traced the stars and stripes on Roy’s shoulder before glancing up through blond bangs. Stars above he was so close.
“And not even a Brigadier General yet? When I came back from Earth, you were well on your way to General. You’ll need to pick up the pace,” Edward whispered the end of his sentence, walking around Roy while his hand still rested delicately on his shoulder; like that hand couldn’t break Roy into a million pieces. “I don’t want Hakuro stealing Fuhrer from you again Roy.” And he slipped away to the ambulance. For a moment, all Roy could do was stare wide eyed where Edward had just been, just jaw nearly on the floor; and quite like Hughes. Though Hughes had a knowing smirk on his face.
Of course the moment Edward appears through a jacked up array, 20 or older and looking like a golden angel, Hughes would start his crusade to get Roy with someone. And well, that someone now in Hughes scope was Edward. Though Roy could not blame Hughes all that much. There already was an established base of trust between him and Edward. Plus their shared obsession with Alchemy and Edward’s drastic, yet stunning, change in appearance?
But Roy could not think about that, not now. He turned and watched as Edward jumped into the back of the ambulance. He then reached out to close the back doors, catching Roy staring. And to Roy’s shock, Edwards just laughed quietly, winking in Roy’s direction as the doors shut and they drove off.
