Internalized reminiscence by a character on a series of events.
He wanted Hughes to know how many lines he had crossed in his lifetime.
When dealing with the military, it always paid to look ready for inspection. Neatness counted; passion was suspect.
And after all, no amount of rain can wash the blood away.
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.
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.
Alfons is a scientific man, and Edward is his paradox.
Even though she wasn’t an alchemist, alchemy tended to stake a claim on all who were associated with it.
It was well known around Central headquarters that Roy Mustang was lusting after the visiting Major-General.
The brush began its march through the sunbeam locks, from crown to tail, and Riza pressed her lips to them. "Until then."
Edward had come into his life, taken over his life; and sometimes Roy wondered what was left of it for him.
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.
I needed something that said 'I am Elicia Hughes, more than just Daddy's Girl.'
On Thursdays, Riza Hawkeye usually skipped the morning work and went to the office at noon.
He has seen the desert. Seen her scorched and scarred beneath his steady hands. Stepped in her tattered remains, tasted her ashes with every breath.
"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.
What price for a human soul? Even a body and a leg had left a debt that could cleave the world in two.
He has lots of women like her, who would like to be his anchor, and too many of them confuse that for throwing themselves head first into the ocean.
She remembers the dreamlike way the pieces seemed to sit on the board—on account of the light, maybe, or perhaps her own faltering memory.
Life, the Fullmetal Alchemist decided viciously, wasn't fair.
What he really wanted to know was something else - a question of 'why', quite likely.
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.
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.
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.
For now, he has mastered one world, two worlds; they have mastered him as well, and he is tired.
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.
Faith, he'd thought, was something he'd learned as a child, squirming on the hard wooden pews.
Very few alchemists believed in God, but all of them believed in books.
To her, the Philosopher's Stone is blood and fire: his fire, her blood.
His arms weren't big enough to encompass all of himself, and Edward always got the pieces that he couldn't reach.
Grandfathers should want different things for their grandchildren, shouldn't they?
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.
Heavy-lidded, he would savor them slowly, letting them seep into his mind's eye until he could see nothing else.
He had started to wonder if it was Edward or himself that was farther out of reach at the moment.
There is immortality deep within us that has nothing to do with corruptible flesh and earthly demise.
There are things he cannot allow Greed to do.
Your eyes stared up at me, wide and questioning, in a response not fit for such a young child.
Because he had said one year; and dammit, he meant it.
It is somewhat odd that two brothers can be so different, yet so close.
She feels like an intruder, eyes watching her from empty rooms, and every stair is a memory she dares not to disturb.
Impress, they had told him. Make us see why we should choose you as one of our own.
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.
There is no way Alfons knows what he does to him.
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 was one thing that Edward had missed above all others.
Roy could order her to stay home and rest, but he couldn't keep her from cleaning.
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."
He gave, and he gave, and he gave, and he could only hope that it was enough.