Ed remembered that Al's first word was 'Mama', and his second one was 'Niichan'.
The blond shook his head lightly, probably in amusement, "I'm really sorry but he's normally not like this to strangers but your resemblance? is very striking, Roy."
This was always my favorite part of the day, when I could observe the wicked gleams of a glare I wasn't meant to see.
Al sits in a doorway puzzling absently over the problem of what array to draw to bandage his arm before he bleeds to death.
Al's slightly hollow voice positively echoed with embarrassment but he bravely soldiered on...
Al waited to say something until Ed's hair brushed his shoulders.
It wasn't easy to imagine how he had been mistaken, because Al could swear that even from a distance, a hanged man looked very different from a tent post.
"Honestly, Fullmetal, I'm beginning to think that you're more trouble than you're worth."
Alphonse had thought that he must have the bravest brother in the world.
I could sleep here, soundly, knowing that I followed in his footsteps, lay in the same beds, held the same forks and glasses, and spoke with the same people he had protected.
When Winry found him, he could not help but clutch at her, babbling almost hysterically.
He’s killing his brother slowly, but he has already promised to do it quickly; what does it matter?
What do you know, he wanted to scream, what do you know about my brother, what he’s gone through and how far he’s — we’ve — come?
Al makes a worried little noise, and Ed raises his head a little. He's been found out, he thinks, and knows he should feel something.
"You. Boy by the window who's been doodling all the way through. What would be the result of this equation?"
"Because," said Al flatly, "Roy is dark and handsome and--most importantly of all--charming. And you're short and blond and obnoxious."
These days, he loves the movies.
Neither brother seems willing to speak, but their thoughts dip down into similar wells, dredging up the questions that most haunt them.
The reminder that Roy always managed to know what Edward was doing barely got a half-hearted glare.
Ah. Fans. He preens slightly into his coat, sits up just a little taller on his haunches. Fans he knows how to deal with.
I had offered him something he couldn't deny, something he couldn't refuse: the blink of salvation and a flesh-and-blood body for his brother.
Dear Ed: I miss you more than you can ever know.
You've only been awake for thirty-six hours, staged a coup, fought a bunch of monsters and nearly died a few times. It's not as if you've had a tough day.
rated:M-L-V | GEN | Mangaverse | post-series | SP: up to ch 108 | DF: ch 105 | Dr Marcoh | Alex Louis Armstrong | Alphonse Elric | Cdr Grumman | Dr Knox | Edward Elric | Riza Hawkeye | Roy Mustang | death | mystery
Winry had never gotten to appreciate the leather pants in her current position as the person who got to unzip them.
"You'd be dangerous if you ever figured out what you wanted, Fullmetal."
What price for a human soul? Even a body and a leg had left a debt that could cleave the world in two.
Fear kept Al's metal arms at his sides, shaking slightly with each of Edward's pained moans.
"Oh, what would YOU know? said Winry. "You've never looked at a girl in your life."
"Just who're you calling..." Edward's voice stuttered to a halt as he saw where the man was pointing. "...short?"
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.
"I want to bring father back for her," Al had whispered the week before Christmas fell.
If Al could have frowned suspiciously, he would have. Instead he relied on his expressive vocal stylings as he propped his brother upright. “What’s in that glass, Brother?”
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.
And if he did forget mom's face, what would be next? Her voice? Her smile? The color of her eyes?
Some of the details he needed, of course, they wouldn't have; no non-alchemist would know. And most of the details they had, he didn't want.
Yes, something was amiss, and Roy Mustang was going to find out what.
He's seen quite enough of the military hospital in Central, and much as he likes the nurses, he was still glad when he thought they were through with it.
Sometimes Al thinks that somewhere back in the Armstrong family tree lurks an alchemical accident in a sequin factory.
You'd have to be inhuman not to quake in fear when she stares you down.
Rule number one: no one knows about us. Rule number two: I will continue to take other lovers to keep up appearances. Rule number three: no commitment. I thought it would be best to keep this quiet so I wouldn't look like a damn pedophile.
...The world is saved. You two can just gnaw on each other for the rest of your lives.
As it got later, Al could hear the night in the strange world deepen. Nights of terror, here, a country full of dead people.
What he really wanted to know was something else - a question of 'why', quite likely.
Smug, he'd stayed just long enough to give his report and then had marched straight off to Resembool with Al lagging behind.
Hope — he could almost reach out and touch that hope, hours away, maybe, just a few ticks of the clock and an array or two later and it could be real.
When dealing with the military, it always paid to look ready for inspection. Neatness counted; passion was suspect.
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...
It was the first official meeting of the Big But Not Scary Club.
It was a shame to mark the boy's pretty face so, but considering his abilities, prudent.