Internalized reminiscence by a character on a series of events.
He can hear their strained breathing but that's all, and he's never liked the General's silence and he likes Ed's even less.
Very few alchemists believed in God, but all of them believed in books.
Yet there are still nights that he wakes up to find his hand clutched by a seated Al, who laughs his hollow laugh and asks if he's okay, even though he does not remember screaming.
The taste of arsenic is golden, addictive, even it does pave the road to hell.
I, the stray dog of the desert, who sloped long and pale, slashed to ribbons, across the moonlight sands on my journey to God.
Even so, you still are a manipulative bastard.
Brother wasn't the only one hiding his fears; I was so afraid everything I knew was a lie -- that our brotherhood was a lie.
Your eyes stared up at me, wide and questioning, in a response not fit for such a young child.
To her, the Philosopher's Stone is blood and fire: his fire, her blood.
For now, he has mastered one world, two worlds; they have mastered him as well, and he is tired.
The question "Why learn?" always stops him; he cannot imagine not wanting to learn.
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.
He had only meant to pass through the town; it wasn't like much would have changed anyway.
Because he had said one year; and dammit, he meant it.
It is what people say to him because they cannot think of any other way to relate to him, this boy who has the heavy title of 'Full Metal Alchemist'.
He wanted to be able to do something like that; tangle limbs and lips and know what it was like to not have a responsibility.
Death could come to Roy on his time. Appointment first. Lunch, maybe.
The human body (or rather, the nearly-human homunculus body) is really an incredible thing.
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.
It seemed, the man thought, that Ed was a lot like the sun -- warm, comforting -- and at a distance.
There is no way Alfons knows what he does to him.
Faith, he'd thought, was something he'd learned as a child, squirming on the hard wooden pews.
According to Hughes, Major Mustang was close to promotion and as his subordinate, it was her prerogative to try and help him to reach the next rung of the ladder.
Heavy-lidded, he would savor them slowly, letting them seep into his mind's eye until he could see nothing else.
It didn't really sink in when you saw the thing, all clumsy dangling wood and leather straps, like the arm of a marionette in a kids' puppet show.
Lust had memories. They were strange, confusing, painful. But she thought maybe she remembered love. Also hate. They seemed, from her perspective, very much alike.
Alfons is a scientific man, and Edward is his paradox.
There was one thing that Edward had missed above all others.
Rubbing at a fading reminder of one such lesson on his left biceps, he hopes she appreciates what a formidable champion she’s gained.
Like other little girls, she wanted to be an actress, the heroine in her own perfect fairytale.
There is immortality deep within us that has nothing to do with corruptible flesh and earthly demise.
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.
They were not used to being alone and when they were together they were not.
She paced the wide, marble floor, visited each of the soaring windows, feeling every supple sinew beneath her skin move with the perfection of the young.
Winry muttered something Scieszka couldn't quite catch, brow furrowed as she leaned in to adjust something on the switchboard.
She could remember his voice, husky with tortured emotion, screaming a name, the name "Edward Elric..."
You hide it well behind your bluster and your sulks, but the workings of your mind are at once cunningly devious and ruthlessly simple.
Impress, they had told him. Make us see why we should choose you as one of our own.
Alphonse had thought that he must have the bravest brother in the world.
He wanted Hughes to know how many lines he had crossed in his lifetime.
"We'll have you patched up in no time." Edward announced, slicing the leather into short, precise strips. It was irrational, but somehow Alphonse hated those words.
"Now, Earth-type world, yes? Spoken language identified as late pre-Galactic English."
rated:M-L | GEN | Alt Universe | TWT | First Place (popular); Second Place (juried) | Green Lion Winner | Alfons Heiderich | Edward Elric | crack | drama | fusion | introspective | 2009 Brave New Worlds, Original
Envy could rip him and all the worlds in two.
She feels like an intruder, eyes watching her from empty rooms, and every stair is a memory she dares not to disturb.
The feeling came more naturally than anything he'd known.
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.
She clung to him so tightly that his skin was white under her fingertips.
...the two men drank Roy's good whiskey, clinked glasses and Maes exclaimed that It was about damn time.