Humans were fools, and alchemists were the worst of the lot.
He was also certain that if he gave in and laughed, Edward would hang up and never speak to him again.
Eventually, Roy had to take things into his own hands. Was it really his fault that it had ended up so literal?
"Apparently their mother never cautioned them to stay away from strangers with cars."
Zinnsoldat, they named it, the Tin Soldier, in reference to their former service and in acknowledgement of their current uselessness.
“Envy,” she murmured in her brother’s ear. “I need a favor.”
The resemblance to the first set was so uncanny that had he not known better, Ling would have assumed she was a twin.
She laughs readily, but no one else, he's sure, has ever seen the double-takes with which she greets his successful deadpan strikes.
The sheer naughtiness of it all was unexpectedly exciting, and she found herself trembling even before the cold steel met her skin.
Her lover could have been anyone; Edward or Alphonse Elric, Roy Mustang, Ling Yao.
On the first night, he comes to her as her teacher.
A hand was extended, and he finally, finally took it, even if he didn't use it to pull himself up.
Smug, he'd stayed just long enough to give his report and then had marched straight off to Resembool with Al lagging behind.
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.
"...Sir..." he tried, beginning to compose himself again. "Don't you think...ah...that this isn't very professional of either of us?"
He's been after her since the day they met. He'd been a newly-made Major and, at the time, the youngest State Alchemist ever. She'd been a Colonel going on Brigadier General.
Fullmetal was starting to turn slightly purple, now, which definitely clashed with his coloring...
A small smile crept along her face--this visage made for mischief--and her tell-tale purple eyes narrowed.
Edward would speak to him, eventually. Any good dog would, and despite his obstinacy, the child could be trained.
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.
As much as he loved his family, Alphonse Elric wouldn't have traded these moments alone for anything.
Right. He saw their little game. They wanted to freak him out, break his mind into little pieces. He could resist.
All the alchemical skill in the world didn't matter, he was learning, when it came to something like this.
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.
They kissed only once. She tasted like ashes and brine.
"We don't need those little bastards. We'll make our own family."
Roy Mustang still doesn't entirely understand First Lieutenant Riza Hawkeye. Perhaps he never will.
She had heard all the lines before. Pinako was a female in a mostly male line of work, after all.
Instant formulas for your pairing of choice! Simply add prose and stir well!
He's getting so awfully, awfully tired of pictures, but they won't just stop coming.
When she prayed the next day, she only whispered the bits about sin, because how could anything that felt that good be wrong?
It was as if there was an invisible box Edward carried with him, keeping a careful several inches between him and the rest of the world at all times.
When he comes to, the blue light of the alchemical reaction is fading, and the air is thick with smoke.
Winry had been confused by the birthday present she received from Gracia, this year.
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.
Really, who said that a woman's sex life had to end at 60? An experienced woman had a lot to offer, and Pinako was quite, quite experienced.
From saint to sinner, from mother to whoreâ€¦ She was far more beautiful in death than she'd ever been in life.
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.
Winry had never gotten to appreciate the leather pants in her current position as the person who got to unzip them.
Pillow talk, with the Fullmetal Alchemist, was shop talk.
Endorphins then, that's what he's been missing.
"If I do not, I might begin to love you, whom I should hate."
He hates the military. Maybe he doesn't. Roy and straight-line thinking aren't on speaking terms anymore, though he likes to pretend.
"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.
“You just need to make it clear to him that he may have an opinion on the matter, but in the end, you’re the one who’s going to be doing all the work. Roy and I had that discussion months ago, and he’s been very cooperative ever since.”
If his past actions weren't reason enough to kill him, then this would be more than enough!
"Come on," he snorted. "As if I could say no to Al AND Winly looking at me like that."
A pure and virtuous soul was nothing short of surprising.