The week will be from May 1st to May 7th! The prompts are:
Wednesday, Day 1: Firsts
Thursday, Day 2: Scars
Friday, Day 3: {Your Choice}
Saturday, Day 4: Nerds
Sunday, Day 5: Secrets
Monday, Day 6: Dreams/Nightmares
Tuesday, Day 7: Promise
Rules:
The tag for this blog is #503week. Please make sure it's one of the first 5 tags and/or @ the blog, otherwise we won’t be able to see your post to reblog it
We accept all forms of media such as fanfiction, fanart, gifs, etc.
Please keep it PG-13!
Anything you post must BE YOUR OWN! We will not accept stolen media of any kind. If you’re not sure if you’re allowed to post something, feel free to check in with us first
You can interpret the prompts any way you want and make it about any FMA adaptation/media involved within the FMA universe (movies, games, light novels, etc.) as well as AU's
The focus of this week is the relationship between Ed and Winry, but you are free to add other characters (such as Alphonse, members of Team Mustang, etc.) on any day of the week
If you are submitting fanfiction for one of the prompts, please add a list of the main characters featured in your story
We accept all late entries! If your post didn't make it onto the blog, please message us so we can reblog it
My first Edwin Week! I’m very happy to participate this year as I always enjoy these kinds of events. Can’t wait to see what everyone creates!
Edwin
Romance
1,125 words
https://archiveofourown.org/works/18677875
@503week
The sun was setting on another busy day at Rockbell Automail. Winry had been working non-stop to finish all her orders on time and she was ready for a break. She quickly put away the tools she had been using and wiped down her work station. Her body felt greasy and sweaty but she always felt proud at the end of a busy day having done her part to help her clients to the best of her abilities. Stretching her arms above her head, she climbed the stairs to find some food before a shower.
In the kitchen Winry was greeted with the sight of Edward stuffing his face with apple pie over the sink. “Couldn’t make it to a plate, huh?” she said with a raised eyebrow.
“Hmrph,” Ed attempted to respond despite his full mouth. Winry rolled her eyes and lightly hip checked him out of the way so she could wash her hands.
“As I said, this way I don’t make more dishes. It’s practical.” He brushed the crumbs off his hands and placed an arm around Winry’s waist.
“It’s lazy. You just don’t want to clean up after yourself.”
Ed smirked while leaning against the counter. “There may be a small part of that, yes. Do you want some dinner? Or more accurately a late night snack.”
Winry finished drying her hands off on the nearby cloth and said “Yes I’m starving.”
Edward turned towards the stove and turned it on to reheat the soup. He took off the lid and stirred it with a wooden spoon. “How was work?”
“Oh, it was great as usual. Mr. Gabrielle’s shoulder was acting up because of all the humidity but it was nothing I couldn’t adjust. And I was able to put in the new piece for Emma too. She was worried about the pain but she handled it like a champ.”
On the table lay a book with pink trim and white lace. It had beautiful embroidery done on the edges and on the front said Family.
“Al and I found it when we were cleaning up the attic for Granny. You should open it.” Ed pushed her towards the table slightly.
Winry slowly opened the book. Something about it made her feel very delicate. She looked closely at the opening page. There was a blurry photograph with three smiling faces on it and underneath it the words Winry’s Third Birthday.
“These are my parents,” Winry said turning to Ed.
Ed walked over and wrapped his arms around her. “Yeah, the whole album is full of pictures from your childhood. You can even see Al and I in a few of them.”
Winry could feel her eyes misting over. This was her history, her family. She didn’t even know she had this. She had a few photos of her parents in a journal upstairs along with some of their medical textbooks but this was different. This was a record made with their hands. Something they wanted to pass on to her.
She flipped through the pages pausing on some of the more prominent pictures. “This was my first day of school and this one is from that picnic. You know, the one where Al fell in the water and cried for half an hour until I gave him an extra cookie.”
Ed chuckled. “Yeah I remember that. He was such a crybaby.”
Winry giggled and said “that’s only because you picked on him so much.”
“Older brother privilege. What’s this photo from?” He pointed over her shoulder.
Winry dragged her fingers slightly over the edge of the photo. “This is from my ninth birthday party.” They both went silent as they remembered that day. It was a few months before her parents got called to the war front. It was a happy time before illness and fear and death.
Winry’s ninth birthday was one of her most treasured memories. Granny had made her favourite cake; chocolate marble. Edward and Alphonse had transmuted her a small silver dog and their mother, Trisha, had knitted her a red scarf. Her parents had gotten her 2 books, one on automail and one on human anatomy, at her request. But the most special gift of all was her very own wrench. Her parents had tied a bright blue ribbon on it and it was the last gift she had unwrapped. In the photograph Winry could see her younger self smiling brightly and clutching that wrench with her small fists. That wrench had seen her through so much of her life and was still important to her to this day.
Winry could feel the lump in her throat beginning to form as she blinked back tears. She could feel Ed begin to panic behind her, he was never good with crying.
“Sorry, I’m fine. I just… Thank you for showing me this, Ed.” She turned in his arms to hug him.
“S'not a problem. Are you sure you’re okay?” Ed squeezed her slightly as he spoke.
“Yes I am. Honestly, I’m really happy.” She looked at him and smiled. “I have pictures to go with my memories. This is a wonderful gift.”
Ed rubbed her back and said “I’m glad you like it.”
They stood their for a moment longer enjoying each others’ embrace.
“You know, Winry. Maybe we should make one for us.”
“Oh yeah?”
“Our own family album. Call it Elric and Rockbell. We could put photos of us and the new house. Al and Mei in Xing. Granny and Den. Maybe even our own kids one day.” He looked at her nervously.
Winry looked at the photo album and imagined her own. Maybe a daughter running through the house with pigtails and grease stains. Or a son with the signature Elric grin and a book in each hand. She would take pictures of all the important moments: their first day of school, their first birthday, their first time down by the pond, their first house. And then one day she could give them their own family album but in person, something to pass on with her love and her memories.
“Edward.” She turned to look at him. “I really love that idea.”
He grinned and kissed her until they smelled the burning. "The soup!" Edward turned and shut off the burners before trying to salvage what was left of her dinner. Winry shook her head and laughed. She had no doubt this would not be the first time something like this happened. She closed the album carefully with her left hand, still not used to the weight of her wedding ring, before turning to help her husband.
He never worried about them before, always focused on moving forward and surviving. Of course, he knew they were there but it was never important. His health was good enough and he had more important battles to fight, more information to search for. The way he looked was at the bottom of his priorities. What did it matter if the scar tissue looked red and angry or if he was covered in cuts. All it meant was that he was still alive.
But then Al got his body back. Suddenly, there were no more battles to fight. No more enemies to defeat. His arm was back fresh from the gate. Pure and weak, ready to be trained to match the other. He returned home with his brother to her embrace; full of joy and love.
They settled into routine quickly. Training and learning and helping and recovering. His arm grew tan while his bruises faded. Al was growing stronger every day and was able to do more on his own. No more aches or pains except for the occasional wrench to the head. And even that was made better when looking at the person doing the throwing.
Winry was the brightest part of his day. Her eyes shined with all the love and tenderness he had been missing out on. She smiled at him and his world felt improved on somehow. Everything would be good and then she would laugh and change that good into something wonderful. He couldn’t believe how lucky he was to have the love of someone so special. She had been fitting him for a new automail leg when she noticed the scar on his stomach. He was expecting anger and yelling but she didn’t say anything. She just placed her hand on the old wound and stayed very still. The pain he felt when watching her do this was more acute than he would have imagined. It would’ve been better if she had been mad at him. That was familiar but this... This scared him.
After that, he tried to make sure she never saw his scars. It was difficult considering she was his mechanic but he managed. They became a source of shame for him, something to be hidden away. He tried not to look too hard in the mirror but he knew they were there. The worry that Winry would see them and be in pain again was something that followed him around for weeks.
It’s a late afternoon in mid-July when she catches on. It’s sweltering and even though everyone is trying to wear as minimal clothing as decency would allow he still has on a button-up. She questions him over it and he deflects. She presses him and he ignores her. Finally, she sits on his back and refuses to get off until he answers so he caves.
He watches as she slowly moves over to allow him to sit up. She’s processing what he said and he can almost see the gears moving in her brain. He’s worried but he keeps his mouth shut. He can’t believe his eyes when she smiles. The words she says next stay with him for years to come.
I love you.
She worries over his scars because of the pain he’s been through. But at the end of the day those scars are proof he survived. That he came back to her. That he’ll always come back to her. She is grateful for the scar tissue keeping him alive and she knows the nicks and cuts that come with the territory of living a dangerous life. She has a few herself. She holds his hands and traces these scars with her fingers. He looks closely at her eyes and realises there is no pain, only concern and something else. Something important. Ahhh , he thinks. This must be what love looks like. It’s been in her eyes all along.
