Internalized reminiscence by a character on a series of events.
Heavy-lidded, he would savor them slowly, letting them seep into his mind's eye until he could see nothing else.
And of course, he does not believe in God anyway, and scorns the idea of predestination.
His arms weren't big enough to encompass all of himself, and Edward always got the pieces that he couldn't reach.
The idiot prince still couldn't be bothered to figure out the different notes and coins, probably because he'd never actually paid for anything in his life.
Lieutenant Riza Hawkeye stands behind Colonel Roy Mustang, laughing silently about her silly dreams, her hand never straying far from the gun by her side.
The human body (or rather, the nearly-human homunculus body) is really an incredible thing.
Falling back into the sun-warmed grass, Al smiled to the skies, offered them his hopes and dreams on a gilded platter of golden eyes.
And there was a certain look they shared, the one they both used when they thought Ed was being unreasonably stubborn.
Like other little girls, she wanted to be an actress, the heroine in her own perfect fairytale.
Nothing made sense anymore.
Edward had come into his life, taken over his life; and sometimes Roy wondered what was left of it for him.
It seemed, the man thought, that Ed was a lot like the sun -- warm, comforting -- and at a distance.
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.
Faith, he'd thought, was something he'd learned as a child, squirming on the hard wooden pews.
You hide it well behind your bluster and your sulks, but the workings of your mind are at once cunningly devious and ruthlessly simple.
There were precious few memories remaining, now, dimmed with the passage of time and the years that he’d spent lacking a flesh body, but he kept them close to him all the same.
...the two men drank Roy's good whiskey, clinked glasses and Maes exclaimed that It was about damn time.
He gave, and he gave, and he gave, and he could only hope that it was enough.
The feeling came more naturally than anything he'd known.
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.
Life, the Fullmetal Alchemist decided viciously, wasn't fair.
When dealing with the military, it always paid to look ready for inspection. Neatness counted; passion was suspect.
She moves the king again, to its last optional safe square and murmurs, "I'll admit this is not how I envisioned my first night on the battlefield."
To her, the Philosopher's Stone is blood and fire: his fire, her blood.
Death could come to Roy on his time. Appointment first. Lunch, maybe.
The question "Why learn?" always stops him; he cannot imagine not wanting to learn.
Winry muttered something Scieszka couldn't quite catch, brow furrowed as she leaned in to adjust something on the switchboard.
There are things he cannot allow Greed to do.
The metal in his mouth tastes cool and tangy and yummy but he can't eat because he has to find Lust.
Rubbing at a fading reminder of one such lesson on his left biceps, he hopes she appreciates what a formidable champion she’s gained.
Grandfathers should want different things for their grandchildren, shouldn't they?
I was talking with Al one day. And I was explaining how a long-term relationship is like a religion. They both have similar hallmarks...
Sometimes, he prays that the hand will come down and Ed will tell him gently they are done, they are going to quit, end the nightmare before it worsens.
There was no question that the very act of living in this world was to be in exile.
The brush began its march through the sunbeam locks, from crown to tail, and Riza pressed her lips to them. "Until then."
Your eyes stared up at me, wide and questioning, in a response not fit for such a young child.
Even so, you still are a manipulative bastard.
She laughs readily, but no one else, he's sure, has ever seen the double-takes with which she greets his successful deadpan strikes.
He wanted Hughes to know how many lines he had crossed in his lifetime.
Sometimes Roy would just hold him for an hour or more, late at night, blind comfort.
And after all, no amount of rain can wash the blood away.
Impress, they had told him. Make us see why we should choose you as one of our own.
We were the naive kings of all we surveyed, lingering on the hilltop as we stared at our kingdom of ash, of ruins, of dust.
Alphonse had thought that he must have the bravest brother in the world.
On Thursdays, Riza Hawkeye usually skipped the morning work and went to the office at noon.
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.
Alfons prays for the day when he will return to a far-off Edward, and somehow miraculously find the words, the actions, to call him back from his imaginary world.
There is no way Alfons knows what he does to him.
Envy could rip him and all the worlds in two.