A hand was extended, and he finally, finally took it, even if he didn't use it to pull himself up.
"You are the only one who has acknowledged me," she suddenly whispered , "since he's been gone."
He doesn't look anything like Roy, and she's not sure if that's good or bad.
"You should know better than to behave that way, Envy," said a voice against his ear, and he felt the warmth of breath as it feathered over the side of his face.
He was also certain that if he gave in and laughed, Edward would hang up and never speak to him again.
Like a sudden flashback to younger years, both Hawkeye and Havoc realized that this was as good a time as any to experiment.
"...Sir..." he tried, beginning to compose himself again. "Don't you think...ah...that this isn't very professional of either of us?"
The room had gotten hot and stuffy, and there was sweat on both of his hands, though the sheen on the automail had not come from his own body.
Roy Mustang still doesn't entirely understand First Lieutenant Riza Hawkeye. Perhaps he never will.
Humans were fools, and alchemists were the worst of the lot.
A pure and virtuous soul was nothing short of surprising.
Pillow talk, with the Fullmetal Alchemist, was shop talk.
He would come to understand later that what she meant was, I’m stronger than you.
"Fuhrer my ass," Edward said. "He's still nothing but a perverted old man."
Somehow, this volunteer assignment wasn't starting out exactly the way she'd hoped it would.
Roy was enchanted by the sound of her voice, pure like dewdrops in the morning.
Endorphins then, that's what he's been missing.
All he had to do was snap his fingers. Again. Again in this endless night of terror.
Zinnsoldat, they named it, the Tin Soldier, in reference to their former service and in acknowledgement of their current uselessness.
The smart thing to do would be to cut and run, but somehow that just didn't seem manly. And Ed was not going to look like a girl in front of this creep.
The kid had said she was into ... different things, but in all his years Greed could not recall ever having found eggs a helpful sex aide.
Smug, he'd stayed just long enough to give his report and then had marched straight off to Resembool with Al lagging behind.
Alphonse might not have been attractive in Envy's eyes, but what he currently represented was.
So soft... so completely squeezable. It would take work to make this decadent man hard.
The sheer naughtiness of it all was unexpectedly exciting, and she found herself trembling even before the cold steel met her skin.
When he comes to, the blue light of the alchemical reaction is fading, and the air is thick with smoke.
A small smile crept along her face--this visage made for mischief--and her tell-tale purple eyes narrowed.
Of all the castle's "guests," Roy was the only one not allowed to leave. Ever.
There was no need to go rushing off into anything now that he had his flesh and memories back and life was becoming a living experience.
A collection of 100 word ficlets.
Roy could order her to stay home and rest, but he couldn't keep her from cleaning.
"Apparently their mother never cautioned them to stay away from strangers with cars."
“Envy,” she murmured in her brother’s ear. “I need a favor.”
As much as he loved his family, Alphonse Elric wouldn't have traded these moments alone for anything.
Her lover could have been anyone; Edward or Alphonse Elric, Roy Mustang, Ling Yao.
When she prayed the next day, she only whispered the bits about sin, because how could anything that felt that good be wrong?
He's getting so awfully, awfully tired of pictures, but they won't just stop coming.
"If I do not, I might begin to love you, whom I should hate."
Her original name had been Mary, like the mother of Jesus, and Hohenheim had found that noteworthy; something to comment on, if only in passing.
She laughs to see the grand scholar on his stomach on the floor of the living room, reading his sons a fairy tale from a fat little book.
There was a lot to be said for experimentation, Ed thought later, when Al was curled up in his arms as Winry fussed in the bathroom.
"Come on," he snorted. "As if I could say no to Al AND Winly looking at me like that."
Roy Mustang often looked back on his wedding night, recalling what he had thought about his subordinates; even now, they were his family, his safety, his friends.
Eventually, Roy had to take things into his own hands. Was it really his fault that it had ended up so literal?
She laughs readily, but no one else, he's sure, has ever seen the double-takes with which she greets his successful deadpan strikes.
Wasn't young love grand, perfect as crystal, flawless as the summer overtures?
"We don't need those little bastards. We'll make our own family."
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