If killers and empty assassin armor hadn't frightened him, half a foot of park bench shouldn't leave him feeling so useless and pathetic.
When you live in a small apartment, it's hard to miss when your brother comes home smelling like sex and absinthe.
"You embarrassed the brass, and now they want their pound of flesh."
Inevitably, within five minutes of the door shutting, he has me wanting to put my automail in his face.
Roy had been among the rebels for weeks now, and he'd learned very early on that these men were dangerous, very dangerous.
"For the last time, we are not having this conversation!"
Ed was good; here they both were, trying to call each other's bluff.
Heavy-lidded, he would savor them slowly, letting them seep into his mind's eye until he could see nothing else.
"No funny business!" Ed thundered, not fooled for one minute by that innocent look.
Winry had scraped a promise out of Ed.
"It's not that easy, Roy. You see, it's my fault he is this way. He honestly doesn't want to hurt me. He loves me..."
"Go back to sleep, Mustang," Ed answers absently, flipping the page.
The first thing he was aware of when the aftershocks faded was an automail hand on his throat.
If you want to find Edward Elric in Central City, you have to be a National Alchemist.
... to prove his point, he wields his tongue as he would a pen, hastily spelling out the letters P-E-R-V-E-R-T with his saliva...
"It's blue!" Edward announced with the voice of desperation.
There was a terrible vulnerability to Roy when his cover slipped, and it made Ed uncomfortable.
What he really wanted to know was something else - a question of 'why', quite likely.
"You'd be dangerous if you ever figured out what you wanted, Fullmetal."
"Half the time you get surprised it's with some shit you didn't even want, the other half of the time you get surprised, you barely avoid getting killed."
A collection of 100 word ficlets.
Every rule in the book tells him that it's wrong, frat-er-nisation, number one cause of discharged officers in peace time situations.
Before this war, he'd never wiped human blood off his automail.
It was an old argument — practically every night, the ritual sparring for who'd be in control.
Ed growled under his breath, color high in his cheeks, and pulled away.
Ed considered for a moment how much to share with the boy. Kids could be weird with what upset them, and Ed didn't want to lose his single ally in the neighborhood.
"...If I...really went insane...I mean, completely lost my mind..." Ed said, carefully, "do you think you'd be able to stop me?"
Artificial muscles and steel could not replace the level of sensitivity real muscle and skin had.
The Colonel's laugh might have been relieved or wanting or even mocking; it was hard to tell.
Edward had come into his life, taken over his life; and sometimes Roy wondered what was left of it for him.
Riza looks straight ahead. "Personally, I found during my time in Ishbal that nothing stops a career faster than a bullet between the eyes."
I noticed, Ed told him with as much edge as he could muster.
There was nothing more petulant on the face of the planet than Edward Elric when he felt he was owed something.
The showy bastard snapped with a killer grin for their audience and really, Roy was meant for either politics or the stage.
This, too, was a pain that Edward had inflicted only on himself, but neither Roy nor Al had dared to say so.
"Huh? Whose fault? Ahahah.. aha..." Ed tried to avoid the topic.
You want to break him just once; see what he really is beneath that cool exterior.
Roy smiled slowly as Edward approached his desk, his usual careless pose turned into something... challenging.
Roy tasted fate in the air as he topped the muddy, grass swept hill.
rated:G | S+S | Ed/Roy
"I know those court ordered anger management classes were years ago, but you've come such a long way."
That was unacceptable. Anger was to be expected; disgust was not allowed.
I have enough things to worry about without dragging you into my messes. Why did you have to be the one to come after me?
A collection of 100 word ficlets.
No alchemical reaction could sustain fire without fuel forever.
Roy had not wanted to cry for many years; he hadn't wept since Ishbal.
"Let me get this straight — you want to kiss me to support a theory!?"
"Tonight," Roy breathed in his ear, tickling the hairs on the back of his neck, "there will be no safe word. Do you understand?"
Usually when he wanted something he just took the steps he knew were necessary to getting it.