[FIC][FMA] All Great Mistakes [Pride/Wrath AUfic]

[nekokoban]

Lookie, I AM WRITING FIC. XO Or something.

All Great Mistakes
Fullmetal Alchemist
Pride/Wrath [see notes]; not quite worksafe
"In general, pride is the bottom of all great mistakes." --John Ruskin
Written for vinnydapoo, who asked for Pride!Al/Wrath!Scar AU darkfluff. ... I'm not quite sure if this is what you meant, Kels, but I hope you like it anyway. XD;; Comments, as always, appreciated. ♥;

******

Pride finds Wrath meditating in the courtyard, still as silence, still as death. The sun is painfully bright, and Pride shields his eyes with one hand as he steps out. Wrath does not move as he approaches, though each footstep rings loud and distinct upon the stones. Pride stops beside him, stands at Wrath's knee, and looks down.

Wrath is so very pale, despite the long hours he spends in the sun with his arms and head uncovered; he is the white color of new chalk, as they all are. They are the lines of Father's arrays, brought to life, and though Wrath's eyes have always been red, they now shine like drops of spilled blood in his pale face.

Pride remembers a time when his skin was the color of cream and coffee, when it stood in contrast to the X that scars his forehead. Father did not want to make this one; he wanted to be content and stop with Pride, who is his darling and his joy, and finally Pride had to bend and ask: Brother, please.

He has not needed to ask that since Envy, who was first, and this fact galls him. That name is Father's weakness, but to use it too much is to lessen its power, and so he has only used it twice, whispering to Father's ear: It's lonely here, with just the two of us; there used to be more, you can give us more...

And though Father always argues, though he turns his face away, Pride always wins. This is how things should be, because Pride can no longer do alchemy himself: he must ask instead, though it galls him to say the word please.

Their little family is almost complete.

He remembers awakening, sometimes, of pain and cold and the dim, animal instinct that something had gone very, very wrong. He remembers the dim outline of a face, gold and ivory, and the taste of red on his ruined tongue. And for weeks he sat in his chair, staring, as Father knelt before him and called the same name over and over, until his voice cracked and turned hoarse, then faded away. And finally, Father stood and looked at him with such perfect, petty grief, and named him for what he truly was: Pride.

Pride bears his name well. It was not difficult, when he was strong enough, to make his way to Father's study and lean against his chair, watching. Plague has already taken away so many of Father's support, and anyone who could even possibly have been a threat to Pride, he remembers, and recalls their faces.

After him there came Envy, with his cold face and almost-perfect mask, whose anger and bitterness turn his eyes to hot coals, and then there came Lust -- pretty, pretty Lust, who drapes herself across Father's shoulder and strokes his metal arm with inhuman adoration, and after her was Sloth, who slouches and spits invective, especially at Father, who still flinches and looks guilty when she thinks to scold him. Pride looks at her and sometimes his shoulders ache, as though he's still carrying the weight of her orders.

He has not yet decided who suits the role of Greed, but he knows there are old pictures among Father's possessions; he does not think it will be hard to find someone. He is slowly reuniting them, even if Father doesn't see it that way.

But he is not afraid, even when Envy stares at him with hatred from the shadows and tries to whisper cold poison into Father's ear; Father will die to see Pride happy, and if the Envy hates him for this, then that is Pride's due.

Wrath was the last he asked for so far, but the most important, the one Pride remembers most clearly. Father looks at Lust and Sloth and remembers them as their other selves, and more often than not he will slip, as though he still lives in the once-upon-a-time, when it was Winry and Master --

But they have no master now; he is Pride, and he should be the father, because the others were born of his whispering. He will be obeyed.

"Wake up," he says to Wrath, and nudges him with his foot. He hates this stillness, hates how Wrath still manages to slip away from him, retreating somewhere dark inside himself, where Pride's sun cannot yet find. Late at night, Wrath sometimes goes to the hallway of bones, to stare at the skulls embedded in the walls, and his face is much like it is now, carved out of cold pale marble. "Wake up."

Wrath wakes in degrees. His eyes are dull red, and there is no light when he looks at Pride and recognizes him. "You," he says. He never uses their names, their "real" names, the names Father uses -- he has not since the red stones were forced down his throat and he looked up to see Pride watching him, and knew himself betrayed.

"Me," Pride agrees. It's fine; he likes this name much better. "What were you dreaming?"

"Dead man do not dream," says Wrath. On his knees, his large hands flex briefly, then still. "They cannot."

Pride's upper lip curls up. "I dream all the time," he says. "We're not dead, we're only changed."

"We are dead," Wrath says, and his voice is heavy and cold. "We are dead, and if you believe otherwise, then that man has fooled you."

He curls his arm over his chest, then puts his foot on Wrath's hand and grinds his heel down. Wrath's expression does not change, though he must feel it -- Father built them to feel pain, to be everything that pretends to be human. Pride leans down just a little -- and this is not bowing, this is not lowering himself; this is domination, two dogs staring each other down.

"We dream," he pronounces, deliberately. "We dream of the things we're meant for."

Wrath just blinks at him and says nothing. Pride leans down until he feels Wrath's hand spasm under his heel, the involuntary flex of muscles, and then he steps back. "Come with me," he says.

At first, Wrath says nothing, staring. Pride waits, and does not blink as he meets Wrath's eyes.

"Come with me," he says again.

For a moment, Wrath does not even breath, staring at him. Pride wants to clench his teeth and does not make it an order, because that's giving up, that's bending, and Pride does not bend.

"I will come," Wrath says at last. The red marks on his hand, from when Pride's boot heel dug in, are nearly healed. He unfolds himself in a single, fluid motion. He stands a good head and shoulders taller than Pride, but he never looks directly at anything when he is on his feet. Even fighting, he stares down at his feet, like he is not strong enough to bear the light of the sun on his face.

"Good," Pride murmurs, and leads him across the courtyard, back into blessed cool darkness. He leads Wrath down into the hallway of bones, and does not let Wrath stop to linger, even outside the door to Father's study.

He leads Wrath to his own room, his room, and closes the door behind them. This won't stop Envy from coming in, but at least it's the illusion of privacy.

"You are mine, and you are well-made," Pride murmurs, low, and touches Wrath's broad shoulders. It takes only a small gesture to push off the robes he wears; unlike Lust, his clothing is loose and flowing; unlike Envy, there are no complicated buckles and snaps to hold it in place. He still looks like an Ishvarite, he just lacks the coloring.

"I am dead," Wrath intones solemnly. "I cannot be yours."

"You already are," Pride tells him, and it takes just another tug to undo Wrath's belt, so that all his clothing hangs open. "Father made you because of me. He supplied the power, but I was the one who remembered you. You never died, because I kept you here." He touches his own breast with the tips of his index and middle fingers. "Here."

"I died, and my body returned to the earth," Wrath says, his eyes still downcast. He removes his robes, and stands naked before Pride. "As did you. That man has broken more laws than Ishvara will ever forgive. Not even hell will take his bones, now."

"That's Father's problem," Pride says, and reaches out. Wrath's skin is cooling under his palms, the sun's warmth already seeping away. "I don't care, as long as you're here."

It's a strange thing to say, and a stupid one, and it's more honesty than Pride can allow, but he says it anyway, and Wrath understands. His hands are almost gentle when he unbuttons the shirt Pride wears, plain cotton homespun, the costume of a boy fresh from the country.

Pride is not gentle; he pushes Wrath down hard, so that Wrath's shoulders bounce off the floor, and he touches the red lines that run from them to the backs of Wrath's hands, stark drawn lines drawn like blood on white skin. He pushes until his nails turn white from the pressure, until real blood wells up in the shallow cuts he leaves.

He is not gentle when he claws against Wrath, when he grinds and moves, and Wrath moves back, so that it's a parody of humans moving together, of people and warmth and that old tired faded emotion that still lives in Father's eyes when he looks at Pride, at Sloth, at Lust and even at Envy --

If you loved me, why didn't you let me sleep? I was so tired --

Oh, they are not gentle; Wrath awakens halfway through, it seems, surges into life and bucks like he suddenly can't stand Pride's weight over his hips. Pride holds him down, sweating, and watches the expressions change on Wrath's face, watches for the moment that Wrath's anger boils itself up, that the hatred and despair of what he is and what has changed him bubbles up -- and then he slams that down, biting until he tastes blood, and uses his fingertips to paint red smears across the black lines that cover Wrath's right arm.

(And Father didn't want to keep that, too; it's not his, Al, it was his brother's, and we can't --)

Pride fights to make it last, and settles for waiting. He waits until Wrath and wrath are defeated, until they sink down before him again, allowing him the proper respect that is his due.

"You're mine," he whispers, soft. "Father made you for me."

Wrath's red eyes open again, and they watch him quietly. "I am the memory of a dead man, Alphonse Elric," he says. "As are you."

"Don't call me that," Pride rasps. "Don't --"

Sex is violent and it is messy; it takes all his willpower to not let his arms buckle, and keeps him upright over Wrath's supine body. He does, however, drop his head, and does not move when Wrath puts one broad hand against the back of his skull.

"Your dreams are already lost," he said softly. "Even when you destroy that man, you will never regain the person you were. Alphonse Elric would be horrified by what you plan."

"That's not who I am," Pride whispers. "Don't call me that."

Wrath sits up, and Pride finds he cannot move, still on his hands and knees with his head bowed forward. Wrath's hand remains cupping his skull, as though to remind him of that strange fragility. It's only after sex that Wrath shows any strength, the only time he will speak to Pride without being spoken to first.

"I will take your skull and I will smash it," Wrath whispers, soft. "I will deliver you to the peace of heaven and the arms of God, because you are only a memory of the person you were."

"You can't," Pride says, and manages to lift his head, meeting Wrath's eyes. "Father will kill you before he lets you touch me."

Wrath strokes his hair, like a mother with a child. "That man regrets, more than any other sin, what he has done to you," he says. "It's a matter of him wondering whether the sin of keeping you like this is worth losing you again. He was not strong enough to stand that before. He may be now."

Pride sinks back onto his knees, then up to be crouching on his haunches. "You'll never find me," he says. "Father has my body for safekeeping."

Because it is not there in the hallway of bones, stretched up so high that even Lust's body cannot contort to that distance. Father keeps it hidden somewhere in his study, where even Pride is forbidden to enter. He will reclaim it the moment he sets his plan into motion. He cannot afford to have something that valuable simply lying around, not if he is to keep his power, and keep Envy under his thumb.

"I know where he keeps you," Wrath says quietly. "I will set you free."

Pride does not close his eyes, or take a moment to compose himself. He stares at Wrath, who looks almost like he does in memories, with the memory of old, hesitant kindness in the way a man treated a boy trapped in armor.

"You will do no such thing." He speaks with more conviction now, and reaches out to wrap his fingers around Wrath's wrist, pulling it away from his head and setting it against the floor. "You're mine, and you'll never raise your hand against me like that." He considers, then moves to sit beside Wrath, pulling the one arm he holds around his shoulders. "When Father completes the new Philosopher's Stone, we will have our own bodies for real again."

"I will burn, and you will fall," Wrath says solemnly, but allows Pride to manipulate him, holds his arm heavily against Pride. "That man's madness will consume you before you can rise."

"Shut up," Pride says, and leans his head on Wrath's shoulder. He lets himself close his eyes. They are leaning against the door now, and Envy could not make his way in, not even if he could still snap his fingers and burn the world to ashes.

It is almost safe to sleep.

And if dead men do not dream, as Wrath claims, then Pride knows he must not be dead: because he dreams, and he dreams long and vividly, of a sickness that claimed the country and left him coughing up blood in someone's arms -- he dreams of fire and a giant watchful eye, and of darkness that faded into Father's pale face hovering above his.

Hours later, he opens his eyes again and Wrath is still there against him, silent and still and waiting. Pride pulls away -- not quickly, but not slowly either, and he stands to redo his clothing. Wrath does not open his eyes, remaining still and silent as Pride dresses.

"The world isn't ours to have," he says finally, without moving. Pride stops in the process of adjusting his coat, and looks down. At last, he reaches out and pushes with his foot, nudging Wrath until he finally unbends and moves.

"Not yours," Pride says softly. "But it'll be mine. And then, maybe, I'll share it with you."

He doesn't look back as he stalks out of the room, down the long hallway. Envy sits in the hallway of bones, right before his own skull, and he is stretching one hand up, as though he can touch the torn fragments of cloth embedded around it, as though he could still touch the pieces of an array to life. He stops when Pride approaches, and he smiles, cold as ice, bitter as poison.

"Having fun again?" he asks, and his voice is a low smooth drawl. "Father won't like that. You know he hates the attention you give that man."

Pride stops and simply stares. Envy is taller than him, but only by a little; Father made certain to give him the body of an adult, rather than that of a half-grown boy-child. After a moment, Envy sighs and spreads his hands.

"Don't bother talking to Father tonight," he says, as though like a solicitous friend. "He's in an awful state. Let's not add the reminders of your little digressions to his list of problems, all right?" He gestures to Pride's clothing, where there are a few faint white stains.

Finally, Pride sneers at him. "You're nothing," he says. "You're lower than the dogs you used to serve."

"Maybe," Envy agrees easily enough, and when he smiles, there are teeth and sharp edges in that expression. "But I'm not the one with delusions of grandeur."

"Father is nothing," Pride says easily. He knows that the words will not hurt him -- Envy has whispered to Father so many times of his insults, and Father simply accepts them, bowing his head without argument. "He doesn't dare raise a hand against me, he --"

"Not that," Envy cuts him off sweetly, and it's so surprising that Pride is, for a moment, left speechless. Envy prowls forward, slinking like some giant hunting feline, and his dark blue eyes glitter with something that burns worse than his usual malice.

Pity.

"You think you've something special," Envy says, and he dares to lift his hand and trail the tip of one finger down the line of Pride's jawbone. "You think that Wrath is your obedient lapdog, who'll come and go as you please." His expression hardens, and he then steps away, shaking his hand as though the touch of Pride's skin disgusts him. "Father failed with you, more than the rest of us."

"What?" Pride draws himself up, furious -- he can take Envy, he knows; he's fought Envy before and won easily, without even having to strain. "You --"

"You delude yourself into thinking Wrath may love you," Envy says, and he shapes the word with biting, bitter disdain. "He'd as soon kill you as lie beneath you, and you know it." He flicks his fingers, the ghost of a snap, and deliberately turns his back on Pride. "Or maybe you don't -- but you'll certainly learn, soon enough."

Pride watches him walk away, and anything scathing he wishes to say dies on his tongue. It galls him to have let Envy win this once -- but he'll take it back, he'll remake the victory into his own, later. Soon.

It's already late. He can see how the shadows have lengthened in the courtyard, the sky bleeding to red. Father will be calling for him soon.

Pride touches fingertips to his right arm, around where the black tattoos start on Wrath's. And for a moment, he swears he can feel them, as though they've been branded into his skin by his memory, as though they are raised lines for his fingertips to trace.

"It will be mine," he says aloud, though his voice is tiny. In the hallway of bones, it rises in the thick air, and then falls dead. He can see Wrath's eyes, open and red, and they watch him with something close to -- that thing, that thing, which Envy spoke of.

I will set you free.

And then he turns, and he walks away.

--end--

Comments

[vikki.livejournal.com]

wow, that's twisted. *__* Lovely fic, of course. <3 I adore the way you wrote this, Ed taking Hoenhiem's place, Al's personality twisted and broken and dead. Wrath ... the name suits him so well because it's completely not what he is now. I love it. It's dark and ugly.

Nice job. It must have been hard to write as a first foray into fic after a long while. ^_^

[nekokoban]

Well, when the request is darkfluff, I figure, the more twisted I can pull off, the better? XD;

Thank you so much for the comments, haha. XD; I'm glad to know you feel I pulled it off, especially after such a long hiatus, woo♥

[zinjadu.livejournal.com]

Very good... but very, very scary. o_O

[nekokoban]

Heeeeee. Thank youuuu, Kariness♥

[calintz.livejournal.com]

O_O Oh, my god. Wow, is this twisted. And it's all the more strangely beautiful precisely /because/ of that. I love your choices for the altered Sins, love how you made Ed the 'Father'... and I love how Pride stands in sharp contrast to the character that he /was/ when he was alive - hell, I love the way you characterized the Sins versus what they were, period. OMG. Great comeback to ficcing, Terra. <3<3<3<3<3<3

[nekokoban]

Eeeeeep, THANK you♥♥♥ I'm really glad you liked this -- and I'm honestly quite relieved that people liked the choices for the other Sins. XD; Waugh.

THANK you♥♥

[harukami]

[incoherant keyboard smushing] aoi;jfe;jfd sifads

Because. Oh my god. SO GOOD. It's just. I want to go into detail because it deserves that, it deserves you hearing absolutely everything that's *perfect* with this, only then I'd never stop writing, because I swear, everything is so incredible. It's so clear that you THOUGHT about this, about who would be what and why and to whom and in what manner and what repercussions it would have on the others and just. Just.

WOW.

[flails]

SO GOOD. [saves to reread. A lot.]

[nekokoban]

Meeeeeeeeeep~~~~~~~~~~ ♥♥♥

I'm really really glad you liked this -- and like I told Sakki, I'm relieved that people liked the choices for the other Sins. XD; ... am also terribly glad I pulled it off, since haha, WHEE AU. XD;

[laylah.livejournal.com]

I...oh.
I.

...There aren't words for how brilliant this is. It's dark and it hurts and it's breathtaking, and every detail is more perfect than the one before. The need, the frustration, the pain that comes through differently for each Sin...the way Pride is so unlike Al, and yet Wrath is still so very much like Scar...

Guh. I'm -- yes. So very yes.
*saves to read over and over and over and...*

[nekokoban]

Meeeeeeeeep. ♥♥♥

Thank you so MUCH for the comments -- I really appreciate knowing that you enjoyed it. :D (Especially since, er, Scar is freaking difficult for me to write. _o_)

I'm really glad you enjoyed this♥♥♥ Thank you muchly♥

[thewriter0.livejournal.com]

AUGH ohmygod this is the creepiest thing EVER. Stories like this, where the heroes get reversed and twisted, scare me like nothing else. o_o

That said, my god. It was awesome.

[nekokoban]

Wheeee, THANK you. :D :D I, er, confess a bizarre fondness for that whole idea, though (in my experience, at least o_o) it's difficult to find. o_o

Thank you so much, and I'm glad you liked it! ♥♥

[ex-saraswath377.livejournal.com]

Welcome baaack. <3 (I realized the main reason I never see you on AIM is because that when we're both in school we're in totally different time zones and I go to bed kinda early. ^^;; )

I really like the illustration that they're all just shells of their former selves just like the series' homunculus, and the word usage to support it ("ghost of a snap" etc). Of all the recast Sins ficcage I've seen lately, this is the best.

[nekokoban]

Awwww, thank youuuuu~~ (Yeaaaah -- are you on the east coast? 'Cos then when we're in school, we're three hours apart and I usually don't log in till 'bout nine-ten your time. XD;)

But thanks so much. :D I'm really glad you liked this fic, and I'm glad I was able to pull off writing the alternate!Sins. ^^ Heeee~ [squishes]

[alita-b-angel.livejournal.com]

Wow... this is just ... breathtaking.

I love it to bits. Everything fits so well in all their own ways. Al is a masterpiece onto himself. Ed should be proud of such a twisted creation, or maybe you should. I love Roy as Envy, it's just... so appropriate. Scar as Wrath is a wonderful idea, so eloquently placed since he no longer embodies that emotion yet...

*squees*

This is love.

Who would you pick out to be Greed?

[nekokoban]

Wow, thank you so much for the comment♥♥ I'm really glad you've enjoyed this so much, and I'm relieved that all the new Sins seemed appropriate to who and what they were.

As for Greed, I was thinking possibly Russel -- it was a tossup between making him or Roy Envy, but I figured -- Roy was a figure for the Elric brothers to envy, in their own peculiar way, while Russel was greedy for the security/support he'd get from the Elric name, thus the masquerading as Ed and Al for him and his brother.

Thank you SO much, I'm glad you enjoyed it♥♥♥♥

[azremodehar.livejournal.com]

Oh. Oh wow. I mean... just... This is beautiful. I love your choices for the sins, and, and... Ed is a Very Bad Man. I love this so much, because I can very easily see him going that way, following in his father's footsteps... It all makes sense, and fits, and falls into beautiful, psychotic place.

And kinda scary, because this is the sort of thing I think about sometimes, and as soon as I saw "pride!Al" I knew... This is so. Damned. Good. Much, much, much love.

(One thing I noticed: he's fought Envy before and won easily, without evening having to strain.)

[nekokoban]

Meeep, thank you! :D I'm really glad the idea of Ed as the Father makes sense, and that everything fit together. XD I really appreciate hearing that, and that you enjoyed it. :D :D :D

(... and, ah, yeah, typos. >_> I spellcheck and reread, and I still miss stuff. Thank you for that, too. XD; [fixes])

[azremodehar.livejournal.com]

"Enjoy" is an understatement; that fic is definitely on my list of all-time fave FMA fics. ^^; I've been raving about it to anyone who'll listen, IRL. XD; It's just... It's just... Good. And good. And good. <3<3<3

(and you're most welcome; I try to be a useful reader, as well as an appreciateive one. ^^; )

[coramegan.livejournal.com]

Terra, this is breathtaking. 0_0 Your choices for the sins are perfect and I love the voices you've given the characters, the subtle presentation of back story.

You are a very gifted writer. Thank you for sharing.

[nekokoban]

Meeeeep~~~~

Thank you for commenting, Coraness♥ I'm really glad you enjoyed this. :D :D :D

Feedback Part One

[aeanagwen.livejournal.com]

I got here via poking around through miscellaneous links, and wow. Felt compelled to give feedback on this wonderful, wonderful story. I did have one or two questions that I wondered if you had an explanation for, or if it was just for the sake of the story; I’ll ask when I get there.

I love the opening paragraphs about Wrath’s paleness. It’s jarring, and I’m sure his white, white hair doesn’t make it any less so. For Wrath, it’s one more reminder of what he’s become; something he can see every time he sees his skin. Lovely.

<< Their little family is almost complete.<<

Creeeeepy. It sets the tone for Pride’s planning and scheming immediately.

I like the sideways observation about Ed naming Al, Pride. I had a strong impression after I finished watching FMA that Ed never learned why some of the things he did were wrong. Oh, he suffered for them, and knew why, but he was so staunchly in denial of some things that were very clear, that I rather felt he never really learned the difference between, “This will bring pain and trouble,” and, “This is wrong.” Al was the one that learned that, early on. His brother never seemed to get it, and, bearing that in mind, a possible future is nicely illustrated by this fic.

<< Plague has already taken away so many of Father's support, and anyone who could even possibly have been a threat to Pride, he remembers, and recalls their faces.<<

This was a bit confusing; it made me think, “Huh? Who’s Plague?” Also, ‘so many of Father’s support’ seems incorrect.

As others have said, your choices for the sins are fascinating, although it does make me wonder about Greed and Gluttony.

The line about Envy’s hatred being Pride’s due is lovely. ( look for this word to get repetitive)

<< He hates this stillness, hates how Wrath still manages to slip away from him, retreating somewhere dark inside himself, where Pride's sun cannot yet find.<<

Nice line, but it feels like it would read better if it were reach, rather than find, or possibly ‘has not yet found’.

Now to one of my questions. It seems like Pride to a certain degree, but Wrath in particular have a far better grasp on their old memories than any of the homunculus in the series did. Lust remembered in flashes and images, but your phasing on Wrath’s awakening and some of his later lines about the real Alphonse and his religion suggest that, not only does he have a much clearer recollection of his old life, but that he remembered enough about Al the moment he woke to have a suspicion of what was going on and feel betrayed by it. Is there a particular reason for this? It makes for some fantastic storytelling, but it left me very curious. I’ve only seen FMA once through, so I could easily be forgetting things, but it seems like there’s something very different about Wrath here. His religion gives him a better focus, maybe? Maybe it’s got to do with the skill and memory and Intention of the alchemist doing the transmutation?

The other thing that got me thinking was that every attempt at human transmutation takes a toll on the ‘caster’. Ed wouldn’t have many body parts left after making this many people, would he? Or am I forgetting a series detail somewhere? An effect the Philosopher’s Stone grants?

<< For a moment, Wrath does not even breath,<<

Typo.

<< He stands a good head and shoulders taller than Pride, but he never looks directly at anything when he is on his feet. Even fighting, he stares down at his feet, like he is not strong enough to bear the light of the sun on his face.<<

Gah. Wonderful. I went to work after I read this and spent all night thinking about the beautifully crafted Scar angst. He’s one of my favorite characters in the show, and he doesn’t get anywhere near the amount of fanlove that someone as incredibly awesome as he is deserves.

I wonder, given the sin he’s named for, if he tried to attack Ed when he was whole enough to—Pride says he beat Envy easily, but then, Pride has a past life full of hand-to-hand training, while Envy used alchemy and firearms. It’s understandable that, without alchemy or weapons, Pride could beat him, but subduing Wrath seems like it might have been a bit more difficult.

Re: Feedback Part Two

[aeanagwen.livejournal.com]

<< If you loved me, why didn't you let me sleep? I was so tired --<<

This is a nice illustration of Pride’s feelings for ‘Father’—that disdain rooted in resentment and ill-will.

Love the stuff about Wrath ‘waking up’ halfway through. It seems like he could be capable of some truly terrifying rage, but keeps it tightly, tightly under control. Me like.

<< (And Father didn't want to keep that, too; it's not his, Al, it was his brother's, and we can't --)<<

Should it be ‘keep that, either’? Regardless, nice detail—Pride driving Ed to recreate these people exactly as he remembers him.

The last exchange is wrenching, and I really like the phrase ‘memory of a dead man’, as well as Wrath’s turn-around, still-enduring religious faith, and opinions about Ed.

There are two lines about Envy that I particularly liked—the one about burning the world to ashes, and the ghost of a snap. It’s an old remnant of Roy’s snap and banter and snark; it’s sharp and twisted and edged and wonderful. His vocal patterns are also dead on, but you can tell his movement’s changed—overall, it’s a clear and creepy image of what he’s become.

This is what good AU fragments are all about—there’s a real sense that, beyond this little snippet is a whole world of story, that this is just a bare, tantalizing taste of the thing in its entirety. It leaves you with more questions than answers, and starving for more. I’m sad that there’s nothing else to this. ;_; But regardless, very good work.

Re: Feedback Part Two

[nekokoban]

As for your two questions -- I meant to answer in the other reply, and realized I'd forgotten to after I hit "post." So. XD;

Now to one of my questions. It seems like Pride to a certain degree, but Wrath in particular have a far better grasp on their old memories than any of the homunculus in the series did. [...] Is there a particular reason for this? It makes for some fantastic storytelling, but it left me very curious.

Ah, see, that's an idea that stemmed from a discussion I had with one of my housemates, discussing how the Ouroborus tattoo seemed to be used to control the Sins to a degree, as well as tie at least pieces of their memories/old personalities to this newly-made body. However, Ed was able to completely tie Al's actual SOUL to the armor -- so, what I theorize is that if Ed actually made his own homunculi after the events of the series, he'd probably modify and alter the process so he could bring the actual PERSON back, to put into the bodies. The problem with it is that Al and Winry both went more than a little nuts from it; Izumi and Roy are BITTER and ANGRY, but they're at least trying to survive, while maintaining what they can of themselves -- but Scar already saw himself as damned, and therefore, realizing what had been done to him was like the first step to hell.

... that's my justification, at any rate. XD;

The other thing that got me thinking was that every attempt at human transmutation takes a toll on the ‘caster’. Ed wouldn’t have many body parts left after making this many people, would he? Or am I forgetting a series detail somewhere? An effect the Philosopher’s Stone grants?

Well, Hoenheim created Envy -- but when we see him, the only effects on his body seem to come from abuse of the soul-jumping thing, and the erosion of his soul. Dante created Greed (and I'm going to GUESS possibly Gluttony) and didn't seem to have lost anything from it -- so my theory is that it WAS something from the Philosopher's Stone that helped grant them some immunity to the losing of body parts -- and if we assume Ed gave up on his own personal taboo of killing people after EVERYONE he's known has loved and died, I could see him as going to recreate it, for the sake of bringing back his brother without losing himself in the process.

Phew. XD; I'm really REALLY glad you enjoyed this fic so much, and thank you for the comments. :D I really appreciate knowing you enjoyed the fic so much♥

Re: Feedback Part One

[nekokoban]

[flails] Waaaah, hiiiii, and thank you! XD Wow, I'm tremendously flattered you'd go through the time to leave feedback like this, thank you SO MUCH♥ Watch me be utterly stupid over it, now. XD;

<< Plague has already taken away so many of Father's support, and anyone who could even possibly have been a threat to Pride, he remembers, and recalls their faces.<<

This was a bit confusing; it made me think, “Huh? Who’s Plague?” Also, ‘so many of Father’s support’ seems incorrect.

Ahhh, see -- what I was trying to imply is that, following the end of the series (and the assumption that everything works out), there was some sort of illness/plague that did a decent number on the population; I'm not using Plague as a personified being (though I suppose I could TRY, and get thwapped for it), just the epidemic itself. Sorry for that confusion. XD;

And I never did quite decide who I'd pick for Gluttony (pooooooossibly Havoc, though the justification for that is really hazy), but Greed, if I'd gotten that far, would've been Russel Tringham.

I wonder, given the sin he’s named for, if he tried to attack Ed when he was whole enough to—Pride says he beat Envy easily, but then, Pride has a past life full of hand-to-hand training, while Envy used alchemy and firearms. It’s understandable that, without alchemy or weapons, Pride could beat him, but subduing Wrath seems like it might have been a bit more difficult.

I assume you're asking if Wrath tried to attack Ed? I figured the major thing is that Ed, at least, has the double advantage -- he's got his combat skills AND alchemy; while Ed may feel horrendous guilt over what he's done to these people, he's still got that really tenacious desperate survival sense, and I would imagine that he's built safeguards into these homunculi to keep them from attacking him -- all of them but Pride, really, because that's Ed's ultimate weakness, and thus why Pride is making the plans he is.

And also, thank you for pointing out the typos/awkward spots. XD; I try to give things a readover or two before posting, but there is still stuff I miss. So I appreciate the notes♥

[rianax.livejournal.com]

It is impossible for you NOT to wrote well, isn't it?

[nekokoban]

[laughs] I don't know about that, honestly. XD; I've got quite a bit of crap floating around, after all. Still, I'm very glad you liked this, thanks for commenting♥♥♥

[herongale]

I just recently came to this, through a recommendation from aeanagwen at fma_scar. I don't know how I missed this the first time around... perhaps because it was before my love of Scar really blossomed... but this is one of the most beautiful and compelling works I have seen involving him.

I have always loved your writing style, since way back when you were writing Digimon fiction even, but I don't think I've ever adequately told you just how much I admire and look up to you for just how well you write. You are so fucking fantastic I hardly even have the appropriate words to use, and all I can really say is that you are as good as any pro I have ever read, and I hope some day to see one of your works winning the Nobel Prize of Literature. Yes, you may think I am over-exaggerating, but my GOD girl, you've got CHOPS and I bloody well want you to know it.

[nekokoban]

Ah, I want to say I'd written this, I think, before I started seeing your name around in FMA fandom much at all -- though at that point, eheh, I was so out of the loop in communities I could very well be wrong about that. :)

But ... wow. Seriously, just wow. I got this comment right after working on a huge update for my site and kind of marveling at how much sheer utter crap I've written, haha. >_> This came at a time when I was doing my semi-regular oh god I hate my writing self-spiel, so it was VERY nice to recieve this. :) Whether or not I have the talent to go as far as you imply, I'm not so sure, but thank you. Thank you so much for reading, and for taking the time to comment. :)

Another late reviewer!

[crazy-toffee.livejournal.com]

(I didn't even know this fic existed, shame on me...¬_¬)

Following my tradition, I give you the sentence I liked the most:

And finally, Father stood and looked at him with such perfect, petty grief, and named him for what he truly was: Pride.

The best part of this sentence wasn't the punchline (Pride's naming), but the image of Ed that one gets through Pride's eyes. That Ed's grief could be seen as petty, which it probably was, gave the character a pathetically human touch, and said so much about Pride himself (itself?), that Pride would not acknowledge. It was the perfect way to illustrate how things stood, how exactly Pride was Ed's sin, and how in the time after Pride refused to answer to the name of Alphonse, Ed could stare down at him with near-resentment and grieve for himself first, and not so much what he'd done. Maybe I'm interpreting too much into this, but the idea of Ed's perfect, petty grief struck me hard. I loved that part to death.

I also enjoyed the idea you posed as to how the homunculi defined their 'self'. Pride seems incapable of accepting he is Alphonse Elric, though he knows on some level that he is. Alphonse would have hated what he had become. Rather than hate himself, Pride seemed to hate his maker in order to grant himself a sepparation from what he was at present, and what he should have become... without refusing the fact that he has Al's memories and part of his persona. The nuance is interesting, I really liked that a lot.

And, as always: your style. Never flowery, but with an attention to detail, to... say... the 'texture' of the scenes and situations that is completely enthralling. I second herongale, 100%. (Also, since I seem to be lurking around here quite regularly, mind if I friend you? :))

Re: Another late reviewer!

[nekokoban]

(Well, hey, LJs get cluttered and it's really easy to miss an entry or six in the mess. I know I've done it, myself. XD)

I'm really really glad that you've enjoyed this; your reviews, as always, are wonderfully thorough♥ I was kicking around this idea for a week or so after I got the prompt, and while normally I would think of Ed being Pride, if that role fell to Al, it would have to be Ed -- and oh, Ed, I have this love-hate relationship with your ISSUES and maturity and lack thereof.

Pride, as I tried to write him in this fic, on some level knows he's Alphonse Elric, and is so utterly horrified by this (and what it implies) that he can't accept it: in order to continue existing, he has to deny and repress all of it that he can. Hating Ed is the easiest thing to do, and because it IS all ultimately Ed's fault, he's also the best target for this.

I'm really really glad you enjoyed this! Thank you for reading and commenting. :) I totally don't mind you friending me at all, as long as you don't mind the occasional totally random lifepost and the fact that I write fic slower than molasses. XD

Thank you again♥

Re: Another late reviewer!

[crazy-toffee.livejournal.com]

the fact that I write fic slower than molasses. XD

You CLEARLY have not seen the rate at which I write, have you? :D

[tavella.livejournal.com]

Wow, this made me cry. Very believable, very powerful.

[nekokoban]

Ah, thank you! I'm glad that the story managed to have impact despite the extreme AU. :)

[anat-astarte.livejournal.com]

Ahhhhhhhhhhhhh..........I absolutely love this fic!!!

[nekokoban]

Thank you very much! :D I'm glad that you enjoyed this♥