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 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.
There is grass growing on the cinders, ivy covers the old stones.
It would be a shame if the future Fuhrer got himself killed over something as trivial as a chess game.
Al should've never told his mother the box was a present for Winry.
This really was turning out to be a day of surprises, thought Roy.
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.
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.
Yes, something was amiss, and Roy Mustang was going to find out what.
It hurt, somehow, to know that there was no one now who could see past the mask if he didn't want them to.
Ah. Fans. He preens slightly into his coat, sits up just a little taller on his haunches. Fans he knows how to deal with.
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."
He's getting so awfully, awfully tired of pictures, but they won't just stop coming.
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.
"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
All the alchemical skill in the world didn't matter, he was learning, when it came to something like this.
She'd barely managed not to wail But it's Yoletide! and prove herself both spoiled brat and country bumpkin.
These days, he loves the movies.
"I want to bring father back for her," Al had whispered the week before Christmas fell.
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.
Winry had never gotten to appreciate the leather pants in her current position as the person who got to unzip them.
Who was waiting for him? He tried to remember, but his mind wasn't working quite right at the moment.
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.
It was the first official meeting of the Big But Not Scary Club.
You'd have to be inhuman not to quake in fear when she stares you down.
And when you held your breath, where did you keep it, in your lungs or your mouth or your throat?
It was only after the sheer sensation had abated — only when he felt on solid enough ground to focus on the subtleties of life once more — that the habit began to catch his attention.
What price for a human soul? Even a body and a leg had left a debt that could cleave the world in two.
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.
"Oh, what would YOU know? said Winry. "You've never looked at a girl in your life."
Let me start by saying that I love my grandchildren. Actually, they’re my great great grandchildren, but that’s repetitive and makes me sound old, so screw that.
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?”
"Huh? Whose fault? Ahahah.. aha..." Ed tried to avoid the topic.
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.
As much as he loved his family, Alphonse Elric wouldn't have traded these moments alone for anything.
Fear kept Al's metal arms at his sides, shaking slightly with each of Edward's pained moans.
When Winry found him, he could not help but clutch at her, babbling almost hysterically.
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.
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
Al sits in a doorway puzzling absently over the problem of what array to draw to bandage his arm before he bleeds to death.
If Al hadn't known how often the older boy feigned unconsciousness in order to stave off these visits, he might have been fooled.
Thank you General Mustang. At least that creep was good for something. Winry still wasn't convinced he was good for Ed.
They were good boys, and smart, and she trusted them to stay mostly out of trouble. Mostly.
Al waited to say something until Ed's hair brushed his shoulders.
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.
"Well, I guess she can't keep him away from every bitch in heat around this place."
But last night I dreamed of Teacher, standing in a brightness like sunlit mist, holding out her arms to me, smiling gently.
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.
Ed meets his eyes, holds them, and then -- slowly, painfully, but deliberately, traces his free hand in a line across his throat.