Faith didn't hold much of a place in my life; science was my passion, something I could see, something I could feel, could make sense of.
Bravado. Make them regret they ever talked to you.
"Mai--" Ed didn't finish his sentence as he stared at the three-inch stack of letters in Foley's hand.
There was uncertainty in those eyes, and wounded pride, but there was no less passion, and therefore, Roy was no less terrified.
Al waited to say something until Ed's hair brushed his shoulders.
This is not how normal people behave, Ed's mind warned him.
As it got later, Al could hear the night in the strange world deepen. Nights of terror, here, a country full of dead people.
And while he didn't know the Niisan that had been to hell and back again with a grin on his face, he knew his Niisan, and he knew that prison was not at all where he belonged.
What kind of stupid creature would walk willingly and calmly to its own violent, brutal death?
Before this war, he'd never wiped human blood off his automail.
Dear Ed: I miss you more than you can ever know.
"Beautiful," he purred again, a smile curling the edges of his lips, and Roy shivered despite the heat.
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.
"Don't go to sleep," he murmurs into Ed's hair, and thinks of their mother, long ago, telling a story about spinning straw into gold.
The creature tilted its head, eyeing the two men to the side of her, and slid off its precarious perch.
"You don't think doing grown up things makes you look older?" Ed said after a while.
"I have to spend a year at Northern Command, and you can't come with me."
He runs out of ink halfway through the page, and with a quiet sigh dips his finger in the inkwell...
Who was waiting for him? He tried to remember, but his mind wasn't working quite right at the moment.
The Fuhrer always used that word. Ripe. Like fruit to be devoured .
"You report here every Monday at eight o'clock in the morning, on the dot, and call me every other day. You fail to report or call, and your ass is grass."
"So ...." Havoc tried to look nonchalant. "Fullmetal's hair is, uh ... bright."
Sometimes, when he lay awake and undisturbed for many hours, he almost thought he had even succeeded.
It's almost as though Al is the blind one, seeking to memorize his brother's features by touch.
"I'm not thirteen," Al said, as if reading his mind.
Winry had scraped a promise out of Ed.
Heaven is this: a short, crisp October day, the clear sky a great bowl above them, the amber valley a chalice below.
On Ed's thirtieth birthday, he attends a memorial that some of the military officers are holding for Ed.
Car broke down again, couple kilometers out of the city, so they had to walk for a while, until Alfons couldn't speak for the coughing.
"Tall girls need not apply," Hughes read aloud, without even the trace of a smirk.
rated:K | M+F S+S | Fullmetal | mid-series | First Place, Het & Non-Het | Green Lion Winner | Riza Hawkeye | Roy Mustang | angst | humor | sweet | Elric Kyoudai | 354th FG HQ | 2004 First Kiss, Non-Het
Roy was far from at ease and he could not sleep, and so, instead, he watched Edward, feeling anxiety and guilt sink claws into his belly and tear into his mind.
They were Scientists; this was Nature. They were Modern; God is dead.
For now, he has mastered one world, two worlds; they have mastered him as well, and he is tired.
"Do you remember that song Mom used to sing to us?" He asked instead, concentrating on the tiny kinks of the inside of his detached leg.
There were many things that Edward Elric didn't want the world to know, secrets to be protected at all cost.
Breathing. Fuck, he did it every day of his life, why was it so hard all of a sudden?
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.
And if she listened carefully enough, she could hear Edward reading in a low voice to a gurgling Alphonse.
They say that a wizard lives in the log cabin, on the other side of the dark woods and the silver river.
And after all, no amount of rain can wash the blood away.
The first time was not a night of magic or fireworks, not something dreams were made of, not something that either of them planned on repeating again.
People paid a lot of money to see things like this, she imagined.
Something that wasn't quite narcissism, wasn't quite masturbation.
It's important that a little light always comes in, even if it's only enough to see shadows and outlines, and not words at all.
It was beautiful, this pre-industrial world, with its white snows and ever-visible rainbows and the dazzling night sky. But it was also dreadful, seething with ignorance and man-made horrors.
"If I do not, I might begin to love you, whom I should hate."