#fs.bellicose

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mma fighter ed is here

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Bellicose is calling to me, tell me about it! 💖

AA thank you for the ask rosie! For the WIP ask game

Bellicose is my mma au for RoyEd in the FMA fandom :)) For more context here's another answer for it from another ask

A big part of the premise is that there is both the fully legal, professional mma league: WFC. But it also closely linked to an underground illegal cage fighting ring that's much more of a free for all and run strictly by the organized crime network. And an important aspect is that both Roy and Ed have entanglements with the organized crime network for different reasons.

Another lil snippet hehe:

Ed knew tonight was gonna be worse than normal, but holy shit. He'd already checked the locks five times, and the street view from their living room window more than that. Logically he knows that. Yet, here he is. Staring at the ceiling in the semi-darkness of his room with his brain screaming at him. Because if he doesn't check one more time, the locks aren't really locked and they'll get in and who knows what they'll do to Al and oh fuck Winry's here, too and she might be tough but she's a girl which they will most definitely use against her— Yeah, Ed needs to check the locks again.

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Wip Poll Game Results🥊⛓

Bellicose won!- I went ahead and wrote for 15 sentences for the total number of votes hehe

“C’mon Al. Pick up.” 

Ed jams his key in the deadbolt, deaf to the metallic roll of the latch. The resounding dial tones from his speaker phone are sounding more and more like a death knell despite all the rationalizations Ed can cobble together. 

Al’s tinny voice announcing his answering machine for the however-manyeth time Ed’s called makes Ed’s chest throb. Shoulder to door, he barrels into their apartment. Winry–sat on the corner of the couch with a headlamp and her lap desk–perks up. Her smile flattens when Ed barely acknowledges her, sprinting down their little narrow hallway, boots still on and creasing up the runner to Al’s room. Privacy be damned, Ed slam’s open his door. 

And that pain stored in his chest finally eases–at least a little. 

“Brother?” There Al was, wrapped in a blanket at his desk, open concern written within the downturn of his eyebrows. He must have gotten home early from his study group. 

Ed flops down into Al’s bed and groans, “Why didn’t you answer your phone?” He tries not to sound too annoyed, but his heart is still skittering all over the place.

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The one that we were talking about with the fighting n’ shit

Hi hi leaah :)) thank you for your ask for the WIP tag game

I've answered a few about Bellicose (mma royed au) this round which are here ee: p.1, p.2, p.3

I am out of snippets unfortunately since I'm in WIP jail with another fic but here's a fun little thing about what jobs many of the main characters have at the beginning of the fic

The Resembool Trio

Ed is in his last year of uni at caltech as an organic chemistry major. He works at a lab as a TA on top of working part time as a bartender. Al is a sophmore at caltech who is a biology major on an accelerated pre-med track. He has a work study working at the campus library. Winry is also in her last year at caltech as a biomedical engineer who plans to who's about to start her MD-PhD to because a research physician for automail. She designed Ed's automail as an internship with Granny's final approval. She also has a work study at a campus cafe and sells custom silver sculpted jewelry on Etsy. (All of Ed's jewelry is stuff Winry gave him in exchange for modeling on her shop)

Team Mustang

Roy is the head coach of Grumman's new MMA gym. Four years before that he was the light weight WFC champion for several years in a row. Riza is also an ex-fighter but now the gym's main trainer. She designs all of the fighter's strength building routines and works with Roy on the technique building sessions too. Breda is their nutritionist which is really important for athletes to maintain their weight to qualify in their weight class. While a bit unrealistic to the real life sport, there's an important story element that none of Roy's fighters are allowed to cut weight to an extreme degree, like to qualify for a weight class they would never naturally be in type thing. Jean, Vato, and Fuery are Roy's other fighters. Hughes is the business manager and works with Sheska on fighter promotion for social media and setting up more fighting matches.

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Hi!

Maybe Bellicose? I'm so curious about all your wips akdfbsa

Hiii thank you sm ene!! I have been drowning in the wips so im happy to yap anytime. For the WIP ask game

Just to make sure, Bellicose is my mma au with Coach Roy (Mustang) and Fighter Ed. Two other friends have asked about it which you can see here: p.1, p.2

Something I've been thinking a lot while writing is how they're professional relationship and romantic one mesh, in the bad, good and neutral ways. Something really important is that despite how different their techniques are, both Roy and Ed at their core fight very similarly which makes Roy a great coach for Ed once they calibrate to eachother.

I got a lil carried away finally writing this scene for them aa:

The bell dings, loud and sharp, ending the first round. Fuck. Fuck! Ed paces back and forth along his corner of the octagon until he can flop onto the stool Hawkeye offers him. He almost chokes on his water as his team wipes the blood from his lip, and his right leg won't stop bouncing no matter how hard he tells it to stop. He should have finished his opponent by now. Before, a mid-teir fighter like Cray fucking Cross would have stood no chance against Ed. Yet now, Ed's jaw and ribs pulse with his rapid heartbeat from leaving himself open like an impulsive idiot. Ed's head hasn't been in it and he keeps over extending his punches and his kicks are still so damn slow. What's worse is Ed's inner monologue starts to overlap with Mustangs bullshit as the bastard hovers over him. "—and your stances aren't up to par so you haven't been using your weight to it's full potential. Not to mention your oppopent is starting to notice you faint more often with your right arm, you'll need to mask that better before it—" Molten hot indignance wells up in Ed's throat as he glares at his coach, "I know all that already, dammit. If you just shut up and let me—" Mustang is on him in a flash, nose to nose as he glares right back. He's got a faint little freckle just about his long dark eyelashes. "No, I don't think I will." It stings where Mustang's hand squeezes Ed's jaw tighter, snapping Ed's focus right back where it needs to be as he continues, "you know you can do better than this. So you're going to take what I give you, and you're going to finish this fight in the next round. Copy?" "Copy."

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hmmmm drabble challenge, please! what about "ring"?

I was so conflicted what to go for here and then I remembered mma au and that we both adore platonic moments >:)

This one ran away from me a bit at 179 words

“So you're getting back in the ring just like that?” Winry says through a mouth full of eggo waffle.

Occupied with measuring out protein and oatmilk–because fuck dairy–Ed only grunts, “Octagon.”

“Huh?”

It's Al who clarifies for him, sitting at the kitchen table with a book and oatmeal, “MMA arenas are called octagons Winry.”

“Meh semantics.” She lunges forward to kick behind Ed's flesh knee, but he dodges, “Stop avoiding the question, loser.”

“I mean, I'll need to finish a two month training period to Mustang's standards for a contract.” He knows he's avoiding their gaze as he scoops their orange Tabby, Cyrus, from the counter. He swears Al and Win let the furballs do whatever they like when he's gone. “But it's good money.”

“Yeah I know you wouldn't consider it otherwise. Just… aren't you worried it'll dredge up bad memories.”

Winry might have asked the question but Ed was looking at his brother. Al had that look of unwavering confidence and support. He spoke before Ed could, “We'll handle anything that comes. Right brother?”

“Yeah. We will.”

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Drabble word - owlishly

99 words!! (I've been very much in mma mode so here we are 😭)

"Ever think about getting back in the octagon?”

One decisive snort escalates into a full body cackle as Edward bends over, hands on his knees.

Roy blinks at him owlishly. The way he just fought those men can't mean it's that absurd of a question.

“Oh, you're serious.”

“I am, yes.” Roy reaches into his wallet to retrieve one the newly printed cards for their gym. “You may not have been following WFC news, but I started coaching and there's a slot open if you'd like. Think it over some.”