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
And of course, he does not believe in God anyway, and scorns the idea of predestination.
Ed's arms swept out, taking in the street and the buildings, the grass and the trees and the sky -- "the world and our own minds to understand it! That's all!" Isn't that enough?
Because he had said one year; and dammit, he meant it.
The staff look at each other, look at their automail bottle-opener, and prepare to duck.
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."
He's getting so awfully, awfully tired of pictures, but they won't just stop coming.
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.
He’s killing his brother slowly, but he has already promised to do it quickly; what does it matter?
It was so terribly painful, really, the way he would smile when he was about to cry.
It was a big world out there, full of more possibilities than either of them could dream of.
One day Edward was out kicking the crap out of those damn Homunculus with Al...
They shared the same eyes, the same hair, and a level of intelligence ... and sometimes, Ed felt far too much like he was his father's son.
Winry had never gotten to appreciate the leather pants in her current position as the person who got to unzip them.
"When I walked in on you in the bath, Edward, I wasn't expecting Al to be there too."
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?
As much as he loved his family, Alphonse Elric wouldn't have traded these moments alone for anything.
It is what people say to him because they cannot think of any other way to relate to him, this boy who has the heavy title of 'Full Metal Alchemist'.
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.
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.
They were good boys, and smart, and she trusted them to stay mostly out of trouble. Mostly.
You hide it well behind your bluster and your sulks, but the workings of your mind are at once cunningly devious and ruthlessly simple.
That day, Ed had pulled his hair out of a braid and tied it up into a neat ponytail.
"Well, I guess she can't keep him away from every bitch in heat around this place."
She'd barely managed not to wail But it's Yoletide! and prove herself both spoiled brat and country bumpkin.
This really was turning out to be a day of surprises, thought Roy.
Fear kept Al's metal arms at his sides, shaking slightly with each of Edward's pained moans.
The color red was a distraction. The color red was him. Him--Mustang's own constant distraction, the waving red banner amidst the dull color that painted his everyday life.
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?”
There was one thing that Edward had missed above all others.
"And search for free porn." Havoc pointed out.
What he remembered of ice cream, more than the taste, was how messy it had always been.
"Just who're you calling..." Edward's voice stuttered to a halt as he saw where the man was pointing. "...short?"
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.
Very few alchemists believed in God, but all of them believed in books.
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.
Al's slightly hollow voice positively echoed with embarrassment but he bravely soldiered on...
"Honestly, Fullmetal, I'm beginning to think that you're more trouble than you're worth."
The advantage to being so distinctive-looking was that sometimes Edward didn't have to look for people; they found him first.
But they were no longer young, and they no longer lived together, and Al wouldn't embarrass his brother in front of their hosts by trying to take care of him.
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.
Yes, something was amiss, and Roy Mustang was going to find out what.
"We ought to have a toast," Ed says, frowning into the depths of his bottle. "They always do when they're having a drink in someone's memory."
Ed began to understand why some people talked to themselves.
Car broke down again, couple kilometers out of the city, so they had to walk for a while, until Alfons couldn't speak for the coughing.
And if he did forget mom's face, what would be next? Her voice? Her smile? The color of her eyes?
Ah. Fans. He preens slightly into his coat, sits up just a little taller on his haunches. Fans he knows how to deal with.
Ling was an expert at this shit, he really was: making Ed feel too bad to say no to him, throwing out weird, cheeseball compliments that made his cheeks fire and froze his brain before he could brush them off
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.