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queencamellia · 6 years

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FMA!AU BNHA

Note: This fandom has taken over my life. This is a longfic. Lots of plot. Lots of ship. Todomomo centric, but LOTS OF GODDAMN SHIPS.

Oh, and traitor theories. That too. Mystery. Huzzah.

"look like the innocent flower” Summary

...but be the serpent under't.

In a world of alchemy, revolt plots, and civil unrest, Colonel Shouto Todoroki and Lieutenant Momo Yaoyorozu must find a way to preserve the peaceful regime of All Might.

Unfortunately, the Homunculi are lurking. And they’ve already taken action.

“I wonder...who is the traitor?”

[Fullmetal Alchemist AU]

[TRAITOR THEORIES WOOO]

[Plot] [Almost Gen tbh] [Lots of pairing hints tho]

LINKS

Ao3 LINK HERE

FFN LINK HERE

Alternatively, you may read it under the cut!

In his childhood, when Shouto dreamt of becoming an alchemist, he imagined defeating evildoers and saving civilians like the tales his mother used to tell him. He never dreamt of bringing honor to the family, of proving himself worthy of the Todoroki name, of his name reverently spoken over drinks, and of a brilliant future filled with glorious victory.

Shouto never needed that. He never cared for that. He never wanted that.

He just wanted to help.

He dreamt of children who would thank him for saving their parents life; he dreamt of the poor who could lead better lives in peacetime. He dreamt of a world where love, compassion, and kindness didn’t have to be snuffed out because they were considered “weak” or “useless.”

Shouto did not dream of tears, loss, anger, and despair. He did not dream of the futile battles in which he fought to live, not protect. He did not dream...no, he never quite realized that there would be blood on his hands.

Before him was nothing but an obscure cloud of smoke. Black specks of ash fell upon his navy blue uniform like gentle snow, but he paid no mind to them. Shouto stumbled past a pile of rubble, his soot-covered hands reaching out and searching. The thin layer of frost covering his fingertips suddenly burst into action, travelling down the devastated city block and covering the grimy street with ice.

Revitalized, Shouto continued to make his way down the street with renewed vigor, pushing past rubble and coughing. “Bakugou,” he called, carefully stepping over a piece of demolished concrete. “Bakugou, I know you’re there.”

To his relief, he heard a cough resound from underneath the remains of the ruined building. “Fucking snipers,” his fellow alchemist cursed, looking rather unfazed as he threw a rock off himself towards the side. The blonde grumbled under his breath, attempting to pick out the pieces of plaster in his hair. “I hate fucking snipers. They always have to pick the tall buildings. Shitty bastards just want to make themselves harder to catch.”

“That’s what snipers typically do,” Shouto deadpanned, unimpressed by the Explosions Alchemist’s stellar vocabulary. He glanced around the building, unable to detect any signs of life; even so, Shouto remained vigilant, his right glove off and prepared to freeze anything at the slightest notice. His left glove, as always, remained on but firmly useless.

Bakugou’s cold eyes, which so severely contradicted his fiery personality, were a jarring reminder of their situation. They were State Alchemists at war.

“This fucking sucks,” Bakugou complained, kicking at a rock. His voice lowered. “I didn’t sign up to be an alchemist so that those government bastards would ship me off to do their dirty work.”

“What did you expect?” Shouto couldn’t help but ask.

Bakugou sent him a disbelieving look, shoving his hands into the pockets of his long, dark blue trench coat. If Shouto looked closer, he could make out the faint glint of silver. They had all been issued their special State Alchemist uniforms only a few days prior: it was easier to identify the amount of significant casualties, then. “I don’t know,” Bakugou growled. “But not this. I didn’t sign up to fuck over some weak bastards who can’t even fight. I thought I was gonna actually fight someone halfway decent at fighting.”

Shouto, too accustomed to the crude alchemist's speech, automatically translated the words in his head. It was Bakugou’s way of expressing his distaste for murdering civilians; despite his abrasive nature, Bakugou never wanted to be a villain (a war hero). He just wanted to be a hero.

Shouto let out a noncommittal hum, glancing upwards at the sky in hopes that it was dark enough for them to return to camp. Although he tolerated and (dare he say it?) enjoyed Bakugou’s company (on rare occasions), Shouto felt unease well in his chest. Something about today had been far too easy: they had only encountered one Ishvalan alchemist in the early morning. The alchemist had been weak; Bakugou was more than enough to defeat him while Shouto evacuated the civilians.

“Oh, sure. Bite me with your fucking holier-than-thou attitude, Pacifist Alchemist.”

Shouto’s lips curled downwards. Although “Pacifist Alchemist” was hardly his official epithet, the moniker had stuck after soldiers witnessed him evacuating several civilians: people quickly realized that Shouto actively avoided causing direct harm to civilians and the landscape if possible, which was how the title was born. Although he didn’t particularly mind it, he knew that his father would be less than pleased. Endeavor had always favored the logical, quickest, and most efficient solution. It was a trait to be both admired and feared.

But Shouto...Shouto wanted to use his Ice Alchemy for good, if possible. He didn’t want the alchemy that his mother had so lovingly taught him to be used for murder.

“I’m called the Freezing Alchemist.”

“Yeah, yeah. Pacifist,” Bakugou snorted, the fight in him essentially sapping away as he squinted at the sun. “How much longer? Two hours? Three hours? You think the old geezer would care if we came back early?”

Shouto considered the notion logically, then replied, “Brigadier-General Aizawa won’t care, but the troops will.”

Bakugou looked like he was about to launch into a tirade about how he didn’t give a shit about the morale of the troops, but surprisingly closed his mouth and decided against it. Even the often-irate Explosions Alchemist knew the importance of maintaining the all-powerful image of Amestris’ State Alchemists: they were the elite of the elite. Every country had their set of state alchemists; if their alchemists were weak, then it reflected badly on the country’s strength.

Instead of blowing up, Bakugou narrowed his eyes and searched the perimeter. Shouto took that as a signal that they were going back to work; immediately, the Freezing Alchemist exhaled, shutting his eyes. A flurry of cool air sent the dust flying once more, ice forming in the cracks of the broken buildings; as instructed, it was a way for Amestris to quickly mark its newly acquired territory until the troops could advance and secure the area.

While Shouto had been securing the premises, his fellow alchemist had climbed onto one of the piles of concrete blocks in order to survey more of the area. They quickly fell into their usual after-battle routine: Shouto was to search for survivors, while Bakugou was to check for enemies. Although they had their differences, the two alchemists moved as a single movement flawlessly with an ease acquired only through weeks and weeks of practice.

Silence presided over the clearing for several minutes until Bakugou let out an annoyed grunt. “Fuck,” he cursed, drawing Shouto’s attention immediately. The ice user quickly strode over to the rubble, climbing up the pile with relative ease. His eyes surveyed the area, searching for what Bakugou might have seen, when they landed upon a group of badly-concealed soldiers approaching the west.

“They're heading for the camp,” Shouto concluded, already halfway down the pile of rubble as he rushed through the street. They rounded the corner, intent on stopping the squadron of soldiers when—

“Half-and-half!”

Shouto had barely a second’s warning before Bakugou literally launched over to him and knocked him to the ground, a bullet whizzing over his head. “Fuck, it's an ambush!” Bakugou cursed, scrambling off of him and ducking behind a piece of rubble. “Fuck, fuck, fuck…”

Shouto found his voice. “We're sitting ducks out here; we need to find cover,” he murmured under his breath, examining the fallen bullet. “But where?”

“Less thinking, more fighting. Get on your feet!” Bakugou barked, clapping his hands and slamming them into the ground. Shouto knew what that meant; immediately, he scrambled away, Bakugou at his heels as the ground exploded behind them. The dust kicked up by the explosion was enough cover to give them a few seconds of respite.

Suddenly, the air felt warmer, the frost nipping at Shouto’s fingertips melting away. A ferocious gale of wind blew away the smoke, exposing their location.

“There’s an alchemist,” Shouto realized. “Two alchemists, perhaps.”

And if the previous move had been any indication, it wasn’t a coincidence that the enemy alchemists had the type of alchemy to directly counter theirs. Bakugou and Shouto had grown rather notorious amongst the alchemy world. They were in an open area, surrounded by snipers and enemy alchemists who they couldn’t even spot.

All in all, Bakugou summarized their shitty situation rather pleasantly. “We're fucked.”

An onslaught of bullets flew over their heads; immediately, Shouto formed a protective wall of ice, only for it to melt away again. Bakugou cursed, dragging him behind a stone pillar before he could get shot. The rocks in the explosion-user’s hands morphed into his ever-trustworthy grenades; it wouldn’t be enough.

Shouto’s mind raced at lightning-quick speeds. Was this how he would die? Covered in soot, in the middle of a foreign country beside his loudmouth companion? He couldn’t die: Shouto wouldn’t die until he ensured that everyone (his siblings, his mother) could live peaceful, prosperous lives. What could he do?

It was almost comical how Endeavor’s voice popped up in his mind; despite everything, he had learned many important things from his father. Think logically. Survey the area first, Shouto. Think from the enemy’s point of view. How would they strike you?

Maybe...maybe I should…

He glanced at his left hand.

Suddenly, a loud series of screams resounded. As quickly as they had started, they abruptly stopped. Bakugou and Shouto exchanged wary glances, but when the temperature suddenly died down, the Explosions Alchemist must have realized something. “Well, I’ll be damned,” Bakugou snorted, a smirk curving on his lips. There was an almost fond note to his voice. “The Hawk’s Eye strikes again. Prissy bitch. She always had the best timing.”

Shouto had heard of the epithet before. After all, soldiers talked. “The sniper, correct?” he question, tilting his head. “I heard that she’s quite accurate.”

“Accurate is an understatement,” Bakugou countered grudgingly. “She never fucking misses, no matter the target nor the distance. She’s probably at least a thousand meters from here.”

Shouto sighed, nodding at him. “We should probably head back to camp and report about this to Brigadier-General Aizawa: that’s two more alchemists down. If they’re aiming for us, we probably shouldn’t wander around here for too long.”

“Fucking finally,” Bakugou muttered under his breath, stalking off. “Come on, Half-and-Half. I’m sick of these fucking ruins.”

----

To Bakugou’s growing annoyance, they never made it back to the camp. Instead, they ran straight into the squadron of enemy soldiers they had spotted before; apparently, the fuckers weren’t planted there simply for the ambush. The Ishvalan soldiers were busy engaging with a squadron of Amestrian soldiers: from the looks of it, the Amestrians were heavily injured and losing. Bakugou cursed, glancing to his left to where Half-and-Half stood.

He never understood why the alchemist was so fucking calm. It irritated Bakugou to no ends; no matter the situation, Colonel Shouto Todoroki always maintained his same annoying deadpan face. They were even on the brink of fucking death minutes ago, and all the ice-user could do was stare apathetically at his hands!

“Shitty ice bastard,” Bakugou grumbled. Then, louder, he declared, “HEY, YOU BASTARDS! GIVE ME A CHALLENGE, WILL YOU?” Immediately, heads turned to face him.

Unhesitatingly, Bakugou jumped into the fray, baring his teeth at the Ishvalan soldier in front of him. “Well? Come on,” he invited, his fingertips itching to make things explode. “Let’s do this.”

---

“Thank you so much!”

Shouto blinked, unable to mask his surprise as he pivoted on his heel to face the bowing Amestrian soldier. He silently gestured for her to stop bowing, examining the soldier analytically. She was a petite girl, chestnut brown locks framing her cherubic face quite nicely. Her eyes sparkled with sincerity as a grateful smile graced her lips. “You and Lieutenant-Colonel Bakugou saved our lives, sir,” she added.

“It’s no problem…” Shouto said hesitantly. He wasn’t used to interacting with anybody outside of their small group of State Alchemists. “Your name?”

The girl gasped, mortified. “My apologies, sir! I forgot to state my name and rank. First Lieutenant Ochako Uraraka! It’s an honor to meet you, colonel.”

“Just Shouto is fine,” Shouto allowed. “Are...your squadmates alright, Lieutenant?”

“Then, just Ochako is fine. Or Uraraka, if you prefer that. Most of them are alright, although we should be heading back to camp as quickly as possible,” she replied dutifully. Uraraka gestured to two soldiers to her right, who had been lingering awkwardly. “I think two of my friends would like to join the conversation. Meet Captain Tenya Iida and Second Lieutenant Izuku Midoriya.”

“It’s an honor,” Iida, said, nodding his head. “Thank you for helping us. We were caught unprepared, and I hate to think of what might have happened without your assistance.”

“Nice to meet you,” Shouto offered. Then, he turned to the second lieutenant. “And you as well.”

As if he couldn’t hold back any longer, Midoriya blurted out, “You’re the Freezing Alchemist, right? How exactly does your alchemy work? Does it work in all climates? How do you form the ice in the desert like this? I assume you use the water particles in the air, but it still doesn’t explain how you—”

“Midoriya!” Iida hissed under his breath, jabbing the soldier with his elbow.

Midoriya blinked, then blushed when he realized the torrent of words that just escaped his mouth. “O-oh, I’m so sorry!” he stammered immediately. “Alchemy just fascinates me a lot, and I’ve heard so many stories about you—”

“Instead of focusing on Half-and-Half’s alchemy, why don’t you spend more time developing your hand-to-hand skills, Deku?”

As always, Bakugou’s arrival was dramatic, his voice marked with annoyance as he literally landed beside Shouto, having jumped off a stray boulder to intervene in the conversation. Shouto liked to think that the explosions-user could have done well in drama, but he couldn’t imagine Bakugou spouting off Shakespeare with a straight face.

“Kacchan!” Midoriya exclaimed, a hesitant smile blooming on his face. “You were really cool out there.”

Bakugou snorted. “I’m more than fucking cool,” he declared arrogantly, crossing his arms over his chest and effectively cutting off whatever conversation they had going on. Shouto let out a long, suffering sigh.

“Bakugou…read the mood…”

“Well isn’t that the pot calling the kettle black?” Bakugou shot back. “You can’t socialize for your fucking life, Half-and-Half. It’s a miracle the guys back in the military academy didn’t tell you to fuck off.”

Shouto blinked, then tilted his head. He chose not to address the socializing jab as it was somewhat true. Instead, he revealed, “I didn’t attend military school.”

“Eh?” came the surprised voices of not only Bakugou, but also the other three soldiers.

“My father sent me to a private academy,” Shouto explained. “The people there were very amiable.”

Bakugou looked unconvinced. “You had friends?”

“I suppose,” Shouto said slowly, “I had one friend.”

Before any of them could respond, however, Shouto’s eyes caught upon a shock of black hair approaching the group of soldiers. Plenty of people had black hair, but he could never forget that ponytail—

“Fucking finally, Hawk’s Eyes!” Bakugou exclaimed, drawing her attention. “Taking your damn sweet time, weren’t you? Where the hell were you during the scuffle?”

“I believe that was hardly a scuffle, Lieutenant-Colonel Bakugou,” came her voice, lined with amusement. “And I see that you all handled yourselves just fine.”

Bakugou scoffed. “Yeah, whatever. Half-and-Half, meet—”

“Yaoyorozu?” Shouto asked, cutting off the explosions-user as his eyes drunk in her appearance. Yes, even though she was wearing the navy blue coat of the Amestris army and had cut her hair shorter, the woman standing before him was undeniably Yaoyorozu. His chest felt tight; it felt as if he could hardly breathe as his eyes remained steadily trained on hers.

Silence had fallen over the group. The female sniper pursed her lips together tightly, stepping forward.

“Todoroki,” she acknowledged, her cool eyes softening the slightest fraction as they met his. Slowly, a smirk curved over her lips as she pushed a stray strand of ebony hair behind her ear. “Or...should I call you colonel, now?”

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