Thank you so much for all the reviews/comments! It's great to hear that people are enjoying this (I know I am – getting into Wrath's headspace is two parts interesting and seventeen parts terrifying).
Currently I'm aiming for about ten chapters – but Wrath has a tendency of going in a completely different direction than I intended. I do have an endgame – it just might take a while to get there haha. Comments are always appreciated and encouraged. You guys make it worth writing!
Guest: tysm for your review! The chapter lengths will fluctuate as I don't really want to put in too much filler as I think it would detract from the overall feeling of the collection.
"It's becoming sickening to watch you grow infatuated with yet another human, little brother."
It is late on a Friday night, and Bradley sits in his study, catching up on paperwork that he had not been able to complete during his working hours. His job may be nothing more than ceremonial in the larger scheme of this country, yet it would not do to get behind in his work. There is only so far he can push and prod in this human role before the others around him will notice.
Of course, it would be a lot easier if he wasn't dealing with a sulky homunculi stalking around his study in a bid to seem important and necessary. Neither of them particularly enjoys the little charade of doting father and son – but sacrifices must be made in order to support their father. It is the least they could do for their creator, after all.
It would also be far more pleasant if Pride took his tantrums elsewhere, however. King Bradley may be his father, but Wrath is certainly not and he does not enjoy being lorded over by a homunculi that would be better suited to the body of a peacock than a young child.
Bradley deigns not to reply, instead skimming another expenses report from his council. He would never admit it to the woman, but she had a point about the district's reports. At least they had variety.
"Did you hear me, little brother?"
He tries his best not to crush the fountain pen in his grasp. "How could I not?" Bradley replies, taking a deep breath before looking up to see the small, not-child before him. It's always a little disconcerting to see his people-face drop away in favour of a far more primal expression. "Shouldn't you be in bed?" he asks, resting his elbows on the desk. "Nanny Bell will be wondering where you've gotten to."
"Nanny Bell," Pride hisses vehemently, "is not who I'm talking about."
Bradley shrugs, looking back down to his paperwork. "It's your funeral kid," he comments, focusing his attention back on his work. "She chewed out your mother this afternoon – I wouldn't want to get in her way."
Pride practically roars in the small room – the force of which extinguishes the cracking fire in the fireplace, suddenly throwing the room into darkness, moonlight barely seeping through the pulled curtains. Bradley feels the room trembling, as Pride's shadows cover everything but him. It is a dangerous hum, like angered wasps waiting for the right time to strike. He puts down his pen, and feels the static of shadows sparking at his fingertips.
"Are you quite done?" he asks, bored.
Pride snarls.
"Mother is a necessary evil, I understand," the first homunculus begins, his voice shifting from in front of Bradley to behind him. Bradley ignores the prickling feeling on the back of his neck.
"And she has her uses, too, I suppose," Pride continues. "She is a dutiful wife, and you are discreet with her – don't think I don't know how you feel about her," he threatens, and Bradley feels the shadows moving over his shoulder, down his arm. "But this recent infatuation with the Lieutenant Hawkeye is interesting to say the least…not to mention dangerous. Need I be worried, little brother?"
Bradley sighs, unclenching his jaw as subtly as he can. "The Lieutenant cannot remain oblivious to her position in my detail," he answers, feeling the slick of the shadows begin to move off his body. "The point of a hostage, after all, is to know you are in danger."
"And playing with her hair ensures that?" Pride all but shrieks, the shadows suddenly doubling on his person once more.
"Death threats get boring after a while," he replies casually, enjoying how Pride snarls again, pulling away from him quickly. "If she is unsettled then Mustang is unsettled. You may be older than me, Pride," the name curls around his tongue strangely, "but she is already wary of you far longer than she was of me."
"Because she thinks my father is a monster," he challenges, the cadences becoming more childlike with every uttered syllable. "You lack any subtlety when it comes to these pitiful creatures. This is why you human homunculi are hardly any better than the humans themselves." He goes to the door and slips out quickly.
The hum of the shadows disappears, and Bradley snaps the fountain pen in his grasp.