Sometimes Al thinks that somewhere back in the Armstrong family tree lurks an alchemical accident in a sequin factory.
"Your arm," said Al, smiling apologetically. "It's kind of heavy."
The sunrise is spectacular, and it is the first that Edward has been awake to see in years.
If he would permit himself to be honest, Alphonse would admit to Roy that he hates the rain, too.
Too many more nights of excuses are going to drive him from appropriately celibate to stark raving mad.
This new life was staggering - more so, the feel of Alphonse's shoulder, warm and flesh beneath his cheek as the train lurched out of the station.
Twenty-one days, and it all falls down.
With a sense of rising dread, Alphonse raised his fist to pound for admittance, worry tinging his voice. "Brother? Are you alright in there?"
He was just moving to light the stove, casting about for a match to begin the flames that would cook their dinner, when the voice drifted in from the other room.
Tenderly, Ed's flesh fingers threaded into hair that he had created — short and bronze-gold, the same downy texture that he'd recalled from childhood.
In the summer they competed at climbing through the twisting branches, risking life and bruises to collect baskets of fruit and bring them back home.
It is somewhat odd that two brothers can be so different, yet so close.
There was gold in the middle of midnight, and Envy smiled over his satisfaction.
The water streamed clear and icy through his fingers- and all at once he straightened, laughing, to flick the last few drops into his brotherís face.
"You know we need to catch that train to Central, and you were being unreasonable. If we're late getting back again, General Mustang's going to have a fit."
Why was Ed still letting this fear haunt him? How long was the lingering pain of these old wounds going to hang between them?
See him move, see him train, see him jump into that air and swing his leg in a complete arch before he lands heavily to the ground in a perfect execution of Sensei's teachings.
There were many things that Edward Elric didn't want the world to know, secrets to be protected at all cost.
"It's blue!" Edward announced with the voice of desperation.
There was something extremely satisfying about Ed's body.
"All this will do is give your soul access to the feelings that should be in your body right now, just like a normal teenage boy."
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.
He's a pessimist with an ego seven miles long; he's a scientist, too, doesn't approve of Al's books.
I'm going to kill Ed when he gets back, Al told the General. I just thought I should tell you in advance in case there's paperwork.
"Oh, hello, brother." Alphonse flashed the smaller boy a smile, startled but pleased. "I didnít hear you come outside."
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 never dared to dream that things could get better, astounded as he'd been by the way air tasted spilling over his tongue...
It is snowing in earnest by the time the fire has begun to burn low, but neither boy wants to move to add more wood.
"It was a while ago," he offered nervously. "Before your time. He's, uh, well, he was a persistent bastard, and... You're not mad, are you?"
"It's cold and dark and raining, and there are thugs roaming the street - brother, have a heart! He could be killed! He could become kitten stew!"
They say that a wizard lives in the log cabin, on the other side of the dark woods and the silver river.
"I'm not being forced out of another home. They won't be here long, and it's not like they'll be looking for us."
"He's the Fullmetal Alchemist," Alphonse interrupted, tapping his pen against his clipboard. "Are you sure you're up to the task?"
"I know," Ed replies, and grins. "I mean, I can totally see why. Nobody else kisses the way I do."
It is to such a morning that Alphonse wakes up, light pouring in through the blinds and over the bed sheets.
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.
The only other tradition that was better than eggnog to Al, was that of mistletoe.
Sweet nothingness, just feeling, no Stone, no pesky mental commentary or guilt, and just this goddamn sensation that eclipsed the sun.
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.
A collection of 100 word ficlets.
...when he presses his hand against the scraped array and wills it to activate, he can't help but send a whispered prayer to it. Please work. Please, please...
Al didn't complain about his brother's occasional delinquency, so Ed didn't have room to complain about Al's taste in boyfriends.
How do you find someone who barely existed in this world now that they're gone?
It made a lovely picture, with the moonlight streaming in thick and silver under the curtains, and Edward silently cursed everything that came to mind...
"Damnit, brother," Alphonse managed, and Ed grinned at him. "I was only away for a week!"
There is immortality deep within us that has nothing to do with corruptible flesh and earthly demise.
It's a paradoxical situation; Alphonse is closer to Edward than he has ever been, yet somehow he feels as if they don't know each other at all.