Fic: "The Salvation of the World" Fullmetal Alchemist (PG)
Title: The Salvation of the World
Author: Tiamat’s Child
Rating: PG
Fandom: Fullmetal Alchemist
Character/s: King Bradley
Disclaimer: Not mine.
Warnings: None.
Summary: Bradley earns his name. Spoilers for the manga abound.
Notes: Written for 7stages, prompt “the seed of the fire”, table located here.
The Salvation of the World
There was life on the other side of the pain. If he went forward, through the seizures that wracked his body, through the bright flare of his body changing, past the sudden, shocking feeling of his mind being recreated, opening up (it hurt, it hurt, he could not bear it) he would live. If he went back he would be an empty frame with no further existence before him.
He went forward. He hurt, he did not know who he was, and the not knowing confused his steps, made his purpose almost totter - who was this self he was trying to save? It had no name, it never had. No, never mind it, it did not matter, he was alive, he was living, he would seek life.
It hurt, there was too much, he could not step forward, but he had to, he had to, there was no way to live if he did not, his mind reached out to the other mind, the new one, the old one, it took him, he died.
He breathed.
He had a name now.
It was a good name. It fit him, just so, right down against his bone, where a name belonged.
Author: Tiamat’s Child
Rating: PG
Fandom: Fullmetal Alchemist
Character/s: King Bradley
Disclaimer: Not mine.
Warnings: None.
Summary: Bradley earns his name. Spoilers for the manga abound.
Notes: Written for 7stages, prompt “the seed of the fire”, table located here.
The Salvation of the World
There was life on the other side of the pain. If he went forward, through the seizures that wracked his body, through the bright flare of his body changing, past the sudden, shocking feeling of his mind being recreated, opening up (it hurt, it hurt, he could not bear it) he would live. If he went back he would be an empty frame with no further existence before him.
He went forward. He hurt, he did not know who he was, and the not knowing confused his steps, made his purpose almost totter - who was this self he was trying to save? It had no name, it never had. No, never mind it, it did not matter, he was alive, he was living, he would seek life.
It hurt, there was too much, he could not step forward, but he had to, he had to, there was no way to live if he did not, his mind reached out to the other mind, the new one, the old one, it took him, he died.
He breathed.
He had a name now.
It was a good name. It fit him, just so, right down against his bone, where a name belonged.