#fullmetal alchemist brother fanfic | manias-wordcount (2024)

Absolutely Nothing (Edward Elric x Reader)

๐—”/๐—ก: ๐—ต๐—ฒ๐—ฟ๐—ฒ ๐˜†๐—ผ๐˜‚ ๐—ด๐—ผ !!! ๐—ถ ๐˜๐—ฟ๐—ถ๐—ฒ๐—ฑ ๐˜๐—ผ ๐—ฐ๐—ผ๐—บ๐—ฏ๐—ถ๐—ป๐—ฒ ๐˜๐—ต๐—ฒ ๐˜๐˜„๐—ผ ๐—ผ๐—ณ ๐˜๐—ต๐—ฒ๐˜€๐—ฒ ๐—ฟ๐—ฒ๐—พ๐˜‚๐—ฒ๐˜€๐˜๐˜€ ๐˜๐—ต๐—ฒ ๐—ฏ๐—ฒ๐˜€๐˜ ๐—ถ ๐—ฐ๐—ผ๐˜‚๐—น๐—ฑ ๐—ฏ๐—ฒ๐—ฐ๐—ฎ๐˜‚๐˜€๐—ฒ ๐˜๐—ต๐—ฒ๐˜†'๐—ฟ๐—ฒ ๐˜€๐—ผ ๐˜€๐—ถ๐—บ๐—ถ๐—น๐—ฎ๐—ฟ ๐—ฎ๐—ป๐—ฑ ๐—น๐—ถ๐˜๐—ฒ๐—ฟ๐—ฎ๐—น๐—น๐˜†๐—ฐ๐—ฎ๐—บ๐—ฒ ๐—ฏ๐—ฎ๐—ฐ๐—ธ ๐˜๐—ผ ๐—ฏ๐—ฎ๐—ฐ๐—ธ ๐˜€๐—ผ ๐—ถ ๐—ต๐—ผ๐—ฝ๐—ฒ ๐˜†๐—ผ๐˜‚ ๐—ฏ๐—ผ๐˜๐—ต ๐—ฒ๐—ป๐—ท๐—ผ๐˜† :))

๐™’๐™–๐™ฃ๐™ฉ ๐™ฉ๐™ค ๐™ง๐™š๐™–๐™™ ๐™ข๐™ค๐™ง๐™š? โ‡’ ๐™ˆ๐™–๐™จ๐™ฉ๐™š๐™ง๐™ก๐™ž๐™จ๐™ฉ

When he lies with you at night, he lies stiller than a corpse.

Youโ€™ve heard all about how he used to toss and turn at night, but that was a sight you rarely got to see. A sight you rarely got to witness. Instead, all your nights by his side are spent with an arm curled around your waist and an automail hand raised above both of your heads. His legs will tangle with yours, and youโ€™ll fall asleep to the feeling of him surrounding you with his body and his warmth in the sweetest of ways. Sometimes if youโ€™re lucky and you wake up in the middle of the night, youโ€™ll hear his voice as he sleeps. Soft, quiet mumbles under his breath. About work. About his research. About whatever made him mad this morning. All sorts of things.

But eventually, itโ€™ll all end up the same. Heโ€™ll quiet down so that thereโ€™s nothing you feel but his body wrapped around yours and squeezing you tight as if to remind his own sleeping body that youโ€™re still here. It comes at the same time as his even breaths, and his hair begins to brush against the back of your neck- something you didnโ€™t know you would cherish until you did. And so, youโ€™ll doze off once more to the small rise and fall of his chest and the steady rhythm of his heart. The very same heart that youswearyou can feel as it beats in time with yours.

But this was not one of those nights.

He started shifting and turning early into your shared slumber. You thought nothing of it at first. He spent the whole day worked up and busy with piles and piles of books and paperwork. Itโ€™s only natural for such a restless sleep to follow close behind such a day. Only he began to grow worse and worse as the night grew longer. It seemed like every couple of minutes, you were being woken up to a distressed murmur pouring from his lips. It seems like every couple of minutes, his breaths against your skin would hitch and slow and increase and fall and over and over and over again. It seems like every couple of minutes, the arms around your waist were curling and grabbing at your hip- tugging you closer and closer to you swear there wasnothingin between the two of you anymore. Absolutely nothing.

And suddenly nothing was becoming too much for you. You love him. You love him more than anything else in the world, but his grip has become suffocating. Dangerous even. But not to just you. To himself too. You were terrified to think of what he could be capable of in his sleep. His body may be made of metal, but not his heart. As you try to squirm in his grip, calling out, โ€œEd, Ed wake up! Ed,please, wake up!โ€ you wonder just what horror has trapped him here. Itโ€™s the one time a day you can almost guarantee the easiest of expressions on his face. The one time a day you can almost guarantee he doesnโ€™t have to have his guard up. He doesnโ€™t have to fight, he doesnโ€™t have to prove himself. He doesnโ€™t have to do any of that.

But the way he lays here? The way he lays here as a possessed body back for an act of vengeance- fighting and fighting for its right to disrupt what little peace you know in this world? Itโ€™s terrifying. Itโ€™s sinking its claws into his warm skin. Itโ€™s invading all the thoughts he keeps inside that wonderful mind of his. Itโ€™s taking control. And all you can do is call his name as his body clings to yours in a way you know you have to end. All you can do is beg and plead with him to wake up in a way that you hope can reach him through all the horrors of the darkness. All you can do is speak to him.

โ€œEd! Ed,please. Ed, wake up! Ed, please, pleasepleasewake up!โ€

Until finallyโ€ฆ


โ€ฆhe broke free.

At the sound of you calling his name- hisfullname after many, many tries to pull him from his sleep, it worked. But at the cost of him ripping his body away from yours. No more arms wrapped around your waist. No more legs tangled with each other. No more hair tickling your neck. None of it. When you turnover on your back to look up at him- the man who you love but the man who youโ€™re just soterrifiedto lose- you swear you see a different man. A completely, and utterly different man.

โ€œIโ€™mโ€ฆโ€ His voice is hoarse as he addresses you, yet he doesnโ€™t turn around to give you chance to read his expression. Instead, he continues to sit up and face the wall. Long hair a tangled mess against his back. His body, shivering and shaking as if the cold wind itself blows for only him to feel. Him and him alone.โ€œIโ€™m sorry for waking you. Iโ€ฆI had a bad dreamโ€ฆthatโ€™s all.โ€

That wasnโ€™t all. You knew that from the beginning. And you especially know that now. So, you push. You push because you have to know. You push because you want to know. You push because there is no one else to do this for him.

Not like youโ€™re able to at least.

โ€œA bad dream?โ€ You ask gently, slowly raising up to sit right behind him. You let your arms move at a leisurely pace as they come to circle around his waist from behind. Youโ€™re careful not to move too fast- you donโ€™t know what you could do to him. But the second you find your arms locking around him, heโ€™s falling back into your embrace. Collapsing as if all the strength had left his body. Collapsing as if there was no strength, to begin with in his body.

Collapsing as if all he could do at this moment was to rely completely and utterly onyou.

โ€œYeahโ€ฆโ€ He murmurs back, blonde hair spilling against your arms as you hold up both of your weights. His hands reach up to touch your skin, and the stark difference between his left and right hand will never fail to surprise you. But thereโ€™s something about this touch that feels more necessary than contact between lovers. Something about this touch that makes you feel like you could die without it. And something about the way he tilts his head back at you and looks at you with tear-lined, golden eyes. Something about the way his lips quiver despite the way he opens his mouth to let a broken,shakingvoice tell you, โ€œJust aโ€ฆ just a bad dreamโ€ฆโ€

Something about all those things make you think he would have died without this touch too.

So you let him touch you. You let him run his fingers up and down your body. A right-hand takes a lock of your hair and swirls it around the pointer finger. A left-arm brushes against yours before joining palms and locking fingers together. In return, he lets you touch him. He lets your hands leave his waist so one can brush through his hair, freeing it of knots and gently scratching against his scalp. The other squeezes the hand thatโ€™s now caught within its grip. But itโ€™s by the time that you lean down and press the lightest of kisses against his forehead that every finally breaks. Everything, including him. Everything, including you.

He tells you about his nightmare. And for the first time, he tells you about what happened to his body. Everything that happened. All the hardships he went through. All the regrets he has. All the things he would have changed- especially for his brother.

The moment he spoke of Alphonse, he began to cry. But you would only know it from the silent tears streaming down his cheeks and rolling off to splash upon your skin. He told you about how he lost everything that day and what he had to do to keep his brother. He told you that even now, he fears for the moment when Alโ€™s spirit rejects the current body it holds on to. The body that does nothing but let his little brother survive. Not live, butsurvive.He tells you all the things he wishes he could do or trade or make or wish for to make things right. He tells you everything about him. He tells you everything.

And at this point? You canโ€™t help it. You canโ€™t help but cry too. Because you have not lived the dangerous life that the man you love has. Because you have not experienced the horrors that the man you love has experienced. Because you have never played with life and death. Using a power that belongs to the gods. Using a body that belongs to men.

But you donโ€™t let his stories break you. Itโ€™s not your place to let them break you. No, you spend your time brushing the tears from his cheeks and looking at him with the utmost love and care you could ever muster in your gaze. You know itโ€™s isnโ€™t much. You know it isnโ€™t powerful. And you know it wouldnโ€™t rid him of his problems. Not by a long shot.

But you like to think that it helps him, even if itโ€™s just a little bit. You like to think that as his tears slow to stop. You like to think that as breathing starts to even out. You like to think that as his eyes take longer and longer to open after each time he blinks.โ€™

And you like to think that as he finally drifts off to sleep once more.

With an arm curled around your waist and an automail hand raised above both of your heads. Legs tangled with yours. A quiet mumble under his breath. About work. About his research. About whatever made him mad this morning. All sorts of things. But for the first time that night?

Nothingabout the terrors he has faced.

Absolutely nothing about them at all.

#fullmetal alchemist brother fanfic | manias-wordcount (2024)
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