Dante’s lair was silent. The deep, echoing stillness clung to the air like a heavy fog, wrapping the crumbling stone corridors in a stifling quiet hush. Pale light flickered from broken wall sconces, casting long shadows that twisted unnaturally across the damp floor.
Bare feet padded softly through the gloomy room.
Wrath wandered aimlessly. In one hand, he clutched a ragged plush doll with its seams torn and one button eye missing. He dragged it behind him with a careless laziness, lips pursed in thought. His golden eyes flicked down each hallway he passed. Everyone was busy. Dante was locked away in her study muttering about the Philosopher’s Stone, Envy was off doing whatever it was Envy did, and Gluttony... well, Gluttony was boring and mopey without Lust around.
Wrath was bored. And when Wrath got bored, people got bothered.
His ears perked as he passed a half-open door. The heavy iron thing creaked slightly on its hinges. He stopped, head tilting in childish curiosity. The corners of his mouth curled into a grin as he pushed it open farther and stepped inside.
There, slumped against the far wall in a dim pool of lantern light, sat the motionless form of Alphonse Elric. Or rather, what remained of him.
His towering armored body had been chained up for days now, arms pinned, legs bound at the joints by rusted manacles that glowed faintly with suppressed alchemy. His helmet drooped slightly, blood seal still at his core. He looked more like a discarded statue than a person.
Wrath skipped forward a few steps, then crouched beside the towering figure and poked one metal cheek with a finger.
“Ooooh,” he chirped. “You still awake?”
Al’s helmet shifted slightly, the white gleam of his eye light narrowing in annoyance.
“You again…” Al’s voice rasped through the hollow of his armor. “Don’t you have something better to do?”
Wrath shrugged, unbothered. “Everyone else is boring. You’re the only one who can’t run away.”
He poked him again.
Al jerked slightly in his restraints, the chains clinking as he grumbled, “Touch me again and I swear–!”
“Don’t be such a baby,” Wrath interrupted, voice sing-song and mocking.
Then he paused.
His expression shifted—mouth curling into a devilish grin, golden eyes lighting with wicked inspiration.
“Actually… that’s a great idea.”
Before Al could respond, Wrath stood up straight, clapped his hands together, and slammed them to the floor.
A crackle of purple-black alchemic energy shot across the room, illuminating the stone with ominous light. The chains around Al’s arms and legs groaned, trembled, then unraveled like molten wire, disappearing into vapor. Al stumbled forward in shock, suddenly free.
“What the hell are you–?”
Another flash of energy struck before he could finish.
With a soft poof and a flare of alchemic light, a massive white diaper appeared around his waist. It was comically oversized, puffed up around his hips and legs like an inflated balloon. Baby-pink safety pins the size of dinner plates held it together at either side.
“What the hell is THIS?!” Al shouted, scrambling to regain balance but the thickness of the diaper forced his legs apart. His first step was a clumsy waddle. The second turned into a stumble.
He tipped forward, arms flailing, and crashed to the ground with a metallic thud. He landed square on his back with his legs splayed helplessly in the air, the absurd padding crinkling beneath him. Wrath was already laughing.
He doubled over, slapping his knees, shrieking with delight. “You really are a baby! You can’t even walk anymore!”
Al growled low, his voice echoing from deep within the armor. If looks could kill, Wrath would have been reduced to cinders.
But Wrath only giggled harder, wiping away imaginary tears as his mind began racing with even more ideas.
Alphonse groaned, his metal limbs creaking as he tried to roll himself upright. The thick padding bunched beneath him, making even the simplest movements feel ridiculous. Every attempt to sit up only caused him to rock unsteadily, like a toddler struggling against gravity. The diaper hissed and crinkled with every twitch.
“This isn’t funny, Wrath!” he snapped, but the fury in his voice was undermined by the sheer absurdity of his situation. “Turn it back. Now.”
Wrath stood above him, arms folded behind his back, swaying innocently on his heels like a child about to show off a drawing to a parent. His smirk hadn’t faded in the slightest. If anything, Al’s anger only fueled his excitement.
“But babies don’t get to make demands,” Wrath cooed. “They just cry and crawl around making squeaky noises. Isn’t that what you are now?”
He clapped his hands again.
“No! Wait!” Al reached forward, but it was too late.
A flash of transmutation energy burst beneath him. When the light faded, his armored hands had been covered in thick, soft mittens, stitched from faded blue cloth with tiny alchemic sigils faintly glowing at the seams. His feet were now wrapped in matching booties that were useless for walking. They made his footsteps squeak when he shifted.
“I said STOP it!” Al tried to swing an arm forward, but the mittens dulled the motion, and the oversized boots only caused him to flail uselessly in place.
“You’re so cute when you’re angry,” Wrath sang. “But a proper baby needs his bib.”
With a final clap, a pale blue bib materialized around Al’s neck, tied under his chin with the words “Big Baby Al” scribbled on it.
Al let out a long, low groan and collapsed onto his padded rear, the impact muffled by the ridiculous diaper. Wrath, beaming with pride at his handiwork, leaned forward and gently tapped the side of Al’s helmet with a plastic toy rattle that had appeared from thin air.
“You’re doing so well!” he praised, voice dripping with false sweetness. “Now let’s practice your baby talk. Say ‘goo goo ga ga’ for me!”
“Go to hell,” Al snapped.
Wrath pouted theatrically, then smiled again, slower this time.
“Oh, sounds like someone’s cranky,” he said. “Maybe it’s nap time…”
Al’s eyes widened inside his helmet. “Don’t you da–!”
Another flash of alchemy silenced him.
A massive pacifier appeared strapped onto his face.
“Mmf!!” Al snarled, shaking his head furiously. But Wrath wasn’t done.
He clapped again—and a second pacifier, smaller and sleek, materialized directly over Al’s glowing blood seal inside the armor. The magic-suppressing muffler silenced him completely.
Now only hollow, squeaky growls and the occasional muted groan came from within.
Wrath stared at him, eyes shining with childish joy. “There we go,” he whispered. “Now you're perfect.”
Al struggled in silence, fury burning in his glowing eyes, but all he could do was flail in his padded prison as Wrath circled him like a child proud of his toy.
Wrath knelt beside him, gently rocking him back and forth with unsettling tenderness. The pacifier straps creaked as Al tried to shake them loose, but they held tight, locked snug over his helmet.
“Aww, don’t squirm so much,” Wrath cooed. “You’ll make yourself cranky.”
Al tried to lurch forward again, but the boots slipped on the stone floor and sent him tumbling sideways. He landed on his butt with a dull metallic thunk, arms and legs flailing, completely stuck. Wrath laughed so hard he had to sit down.
“I could watch this all day,” he gasped, tears of amusement in his eyes. “You’re like a big, noisy puppet!”
He reached out and spun Al slightly on his side. Al squirmed in response, but the friction of the diaper and padding kept him awkwardly rolling instead of standing. Wrath giggled again and grabbed the oversized plastic rattle he'd conjured earlier.
“Now, be a good baby and play with your toy!”
He shoved the rattle between Al’s mittened hands. Al dropped it immediately, and it clattered noisily across the stone. Wrath clutched his sides and rolled over laughing.
A low sigh echoed from the doorway.
Wrath paused mid-giggle and looked up.
Leaning against the doorframe, arms crossed and wearing a mask of deep exasperation, was Envy. His long hair framed a face that couldn’t decide between disgust and amusement.
“What in the name of hell are you doing?”
Wrath straightened up like a child caught drawing on the walls. “Playing house!” he said proudly. “I’m the mommy, and Al’s the baby.”
Envy blinked once. Then again. He opened his mouth to retort, stopped, and just stared at Alphonse who was still lying on his back with a frilly bonnet, a diaper puffed around his hips, and a pacifier strapped across his mouth.
“Mmrph!” Al protested weakly, as if somehow that could reclaim any dignity.
For several seconds, silence hung in the air like a dense fog.
And then, to Al’s absolute horror, Envy laughed.
Not a dry, sarcastic chuckle. It was a genuine, sharp cackle that echoed through the chamber.
“Oh, this is rich,” Envy wheezed, stumbling forward to get a better look. “You turned the big tin can into a playpen reject.”
Al struggled harder now, arms flapping, trying to twist away but kept failing.
Wrath beamed. “He was being grumpy, so I fixed it.”
Envy circled Al like a jackal. “Fixed him, huh? Damn. Guess we better keep this going eh?”
“HMMGH?!” Alphonse’s face grew completely surprised and wide-eyed. He didn’t expect another one to go along with this. Wrath grinned as he sat on his knees before Alphonse, shaking the rattle up and down as Envy rested his foot on Al’s diaper.
“Don’t be such a baby,” He said, repeating the same line Wrath said earlier. Were they really this in sync?!
“I’ve gotta say,” Envy sneered, inspecting the oversized mittens and the ridiculously puffy diaper, “this is better than watching Ed get punched in the face. Who knew the tin can made such a good baby?”
Wrath clapped gleefully behind him. “See?! Isn’t it fun?”
Envy spun Al around slowly like a carousel horse. “Hilarious. He’s practically gift-wrapped for mockery.”
Just then, the doorway darkened again.
A squat, waddling shape emerged with his large belly, vacant eyes, and tongue lolling from an open mouth.
Gluttony.
He blinked slowly at the scene: Al stuck in baby clothes, pacified and flailing, Envy spinning him by the helmet, and Wrath bopping with joy.
He let out a soft, confused noise. “...Is that… the Al guy?”
Envy threw an arm around Gluttony’s shoulder. “It was. Now he’s Baby Al.”
Wrath nodded sagely. “He’s part of the family now.”
Gluttony wandered closer and poked Al’s bootie with a curious finger. The padding squished audibly.
“Soft,” he mumbled, then tilted his head. “Can I feed him?”
Wrath’s eyes sparkled. “Ooooh, yes! Baby time means bottle time!”
He clapped again. Alchemical sparks flared and a comically oversized baby bottle clattered into existence, filled to the brim with a sloshing, glowing purple liquid of dubious origin.
Al’s eyes widened behind the pacifier. He thrashed.
Envy took one look and burst out laughing. “You’re gonna give him a armor smoothie?”
“He needs his nutrients!” Wrath said cheerfully.
Envy leaned against the wall, wiping tears of mirth from his eyes as Gluttony knelt and tried to force the bottle’s rubber nipple against the edge of Al’s pacifier. The metal creaked under Al’s panic, but the restraints held firm.
They kept messing with him and putting him in new positions. Pretty soon Al, who was now lying across Wrath’s lap as he tried to “rock” him while Gluttony shook a rattle near his head, was dying from sheer embarrassment.
“And what’s the baby’s punishment if he throws a tantrum?” Envy asked suddenly.
“Oh!” Wrath lit up. “Spankings!”
Envy whistled. “Now that I’ll stick around for.”
Al, humiliated beyond comprehension, could only squirm and groan. His every attempt to speak was stifled by the pacifiers, his every motion rendered useless by the padding, mittens, and booties. He was surrounded—mocked, infantilized, and manhandled like a toy by monsters who saw his suffering as a game.
Wrath gently patted Al’s armored rear and hummed a lullaby off-key.
“Shh, shh. It’s bedtime for baby.”
He motioned toward the corner of the room, where a makeshift crib had already begun to form, cobbled together by transmuted pipes and rusted bars. A torn blanket hung over the top like a canopy, and stuffed toys littered the floor inside.
With terrifying ease, Wrath lifted Alphonse into his arms and carried him over, placing him inside the “crib” with a soft metallic clunk. The diaper crinkled loudly beneath him.
The others gathered around the crib in a half-circle, smirking.
“Nighty-night, Big Baby Al,” Envy cooed mockingly.
“Sleep tight,” Gluttony added.
“Thanks for clearing away my boredom!” Wrath leaned over the bars and whispered, “Tomorrow we can play dress-up!”
The lantern dimmed as the Homunculi’s shadows retreated from the room one by one. Al lay in the crib, trapped in silence, glaring up at the ceiling with glowing eyes that burned with humiliation.
It was the first time he thought it might be better if his brother didn’t come to see him.
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