People all have different ideas of beauty, Al knows, and no two ever appear to be the same.
It was not fair to the boy to get tripped up by what he looked like, especially not when he had avoided it for so many years already.
Dante took the seat next to the bed, and handed a mug of tea to Trisha.
"That angel hated God's second born. He was jealous. Why was he so easy to cast aside and walk away from?"
With a sense of rising dread, Alphonse raised his fist to pound for admittance, worry tinging his voice. "Brother? Are you alright in there?"
There would always be this silence in the air, stifling, thick, foggy and almost opaque, and I would watch from the mouth of the hallway, hands in front of me, our kitten, Unsere, threading through my legs.
You gave me hope, Edward Elric, and then you took it away.
Most people knew enough to leave Envy alone when he was so clearly unhappy.
It was well known around Central headquarters that Roy Mustang was lusting after the visiting Major-General.
He could ask so many things at this point. About sex, Ed, himself...
In matters of love and loss, it could be argued, the principle of equivalent exchange did not exist.
"When you put it that way--" Roy conceded. "But it does seem improbable. You promised me a murderer, but are you so sure that it was no accident?"
He was just moving to light the stove, casting about for a match to begin the flames that would cook their dinner, when the voice drifted in from the other room.
There were good things about having Mustang around, least of which was when one forgot their matches.
Ed tosses four sausages at once into his mouth and swallows almost without chewing, shooting Al a smug, triumphant grin.
Roy Mustang had his own addiction, and it was very simple: Roy Mustang was addicted to lieutenants.
The water streamed clear and icy through his fingers- and all at once he straightened, laughing, to flick the last few drops into his brother’s face.
He was coming to read Alfons pretty well now too, and from what Al did understand he could give as good as he got.
There were precious few memories remaining, now, dimmed with the passage of time and the years that he’d spent lacking a flesh body, but he kept them close to him all the same.
Some of the stuff he was asked to investigate was truly stupid shit. A bakery, for instance.
For a few minutes they sat in silence, looking out over the sun-dazzled water. There didn't seem to be much to say.
Sometimes, he really wished that sleeping dogs would have been left alone...
Alphonse Elric was a gentle soul, and he detested fighting.
Gone was the helpless, kicked-puppy look from those purple eyes.
A collection of short fics. Pairings and warnings listed individually.
rated:M-L | GEN S+S | Fullmetal |
I know what I feel, I know what I think, and I don't need to chickenscratch the shit down and have the risk of it falling into the wrong hands.
And when the next words followed, barely loud enough to be heard, the General was surprised by the force behind them.
Roy tasted fate in the air as he topped the muddy, grass swept hill.
rated:G | S+S | Ed/Roy
Screaming or crying would have been appropriate. Edward Elric didn't care about propriety. He was laughing.
He would ask questions, even though Al knew he didn't particularly care, simply because he liked seeing Alphonse so animated about something.
The house rumbled gently, as a cat purrs, and Alphonse tied off the braid, pressing his hands to Edward's scalp one more time before dropping them to his side.
Alfons prays for the day when he will return to a far-off Edward, and somehow miraculously find the words, the actions, to call him back from his imaginary world.
"Beautiful," he purred again, a smile curling the edges of his lips, and Roy shivered despite the heat.
There was a loud crack, like the sound of several chopsticks simultaneously being snapped in two, followed by the sound of something heavy falling, the object hitting the ground so hard the earth literally shook beneath Ed's feet.
Mustang fell into a kind of trance whenever he killed with his flames -- snapping his fingers continually, sometimes so fast that both his hands blurred.
She had hoped that the older woman would forget, so she didn't have to reveal that childishness to such a strong woman.
Life, the Fullmetal Alchemist decided viciously, wasn't fair.
I'm going to kill Ed when he gets back, Al told the General. I just thought I should tell you in advance in case there's paperwork.
There was really too much good happening today to allow room for imperfection, in his humble opinion.
They would have had a bitter bitchfight had both suddenly not stopped and realized it was all Roy's fault.
"He's a smug arrogant prick and Jean's a lazy bastard with a mouth like an ashtray."
"When I walked in on you in the bath, Edward, I wasn't expecting Al to be there too."
"Let me get this straight — you want to kiss me to support a theory!?"
"Brother," Alphonse said, voice soft with horror, "I think that Winry's going to kill you."
Something about the place seems to be sucking the life out of him; the more time he spends indoors, the more he seems to wilt.
He doesn't love Scar. The idea is ridiculous, but they are all they have left, each other's bodies rocks against the tide of strangeness, unfamiliarity.
Are those little flamels on his pajamas? Where the hell does he shop, Alchemist Cliches 'R Us?
It really irritated him that he did have ten years of experience and Roy could look at him and drop his voice a little and Ed squirmed.