It would be a shame if the future Fuhrer got himself killed over something as trivial as a chess game.
An alchemical reaction of the most ancient kind: sitting down to eat as though filling the stomach could replace the gap in one's heart.
It was just as his body heat was beginning to bring the sheets up to a reasonable temperature that the noise caught his ears- an ugly scraping sound, unnatural and harsh in the silence of early morning hours.
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.
It wasn't a nightmare; nightmares leave him shaking and sweating, but now he's oddly calm.
There is grass growing on the cinders, ivy covers the old stones.
What kind of stupid creature would walk willingly and calmly to its own violent, brutal death?
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.
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.
She would notice when that body's pulse went up around her, the flush of cheeks, and the way the eyes followed her curves.
But last night I dreamed of Teacher, standing in a brightness like sunlit mist, holding out her arms to me, smiling gently.
When dealing with the military, it always paid to look ready for inspection. Neatness counted; passion was suspect.
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.
Al waited to say something until Ed's hair brushed his shoulders.
It was a shame to mark the boy's pretty face so, but considering his abilities, prudent.
"You'd be dangerous if you ever figured out what you wanted, Fullmetal."
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?
"Huh? Whose fault? Ahahah.. aha..." Ed tried to avoid the topic.
And if he did forget mom's face, what would be next? Her voice? Her smile? The color of her eyes?
Dear Ed: I miss you more than you can ever know.
Alphonse had thought that he must have the bravest brother in the world.
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?”
Brother likes to pretend that he doesn't care what goes on in the military unless it directly affects him. Or, you know, directly offends him. One or the other.
“You just need to make it clear to him that he may have an opinion on the matter, but in the end, you’re the one who’s going to be doing all the work. Roy and I had that discussion months ago, and he’s been very cooperative ever since.”
"And search for free porn." Havoc pointed out.
But the harsh light of early morning sharpens the hard angles of desperation on Al's face so instead Ed smiles, all teeth, and lies, "Of course."
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
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.
"So, we're one gunshot from a civil war. If someone from Hakuro's faction fired that shot, for whatever reason ..."
rated:K-L-V | M+F S+S | Mangaverse | post-series | SP: ch 1-108 | DF: ch 105 | Alphonse Elric | Edward Elric | Roy Mustang | mystery | 354th FG HQ | UST | 2010 Best New Voices, Neophyte | Havoc/Rebecca
Who was waiting for him? He tried to remember, but his mind wasn't working quite right at the moment.
These days, he loves the movies.
Al should've never told his mother the box was a present for Winry.
Winry had never gotten to appreciate the leather pants in her current position as the person who got to unzip them.
“Um, you must’ve learned that from Colonel Bastard. You’d better not be flashing that at the nurses. Or at me, ever, ever again.”
The feel of hands on his shoulders woke him, one metal and one flesh, and it was the chill in human fingers that told him how cold the night had grown while he slept.
And when you held your breath, where did you keep it, in your lungs or your mouth or your throat?
They were good boys, and smart, and she trusted them to stay mostly out of trouble. Mostly.
As it got later, Al could hear the night in the strange world deepen. Nights of terror, here, a country full of dead people.
And everyone knows, when a homunculus is in trouble, there’s only one place to go!
Al crouches down on a dune looking down on the camp and draws an array in the sand, thinking of Gunnar with a dull pang of grief.
You'd have to be inhuman not to quake in fear when she stares you down.
He mostly trusted his brother to be able to put a nearly-three-year-old to bed by himself, but...Al should probably check, just to be sure.
Al sits in a doorway puzzling absently over the problem of what array to draw to bandage his arm before he bleeds to death.
The dizzy whiteness rushed over him again; bright, hurting, noisy, afraid, hard, can't remember, Niisan...
It was the first official meeting of the Big But Not Scary Club.
What the hell was he going to say when Ed and Winry asked him if he met any nice girls in Xing?
ROY: [calmly] If drinking means acting like an idiot the way you are, I'm going to pass.