M/M or F/F romantic relationship with existing or developing sexual interaction. Does not include canonical relationships.
His flatmate is a night owl and is always knocking around at odd hours, reading well in the early morning; if Alfons didn't remind him to sleep he most likely never would bother to.
Someone had clearly forgotten to tell Roy that he was much better at starting fires than stopping them.
"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."
"Alphonse... why are you wearing a blouse?" The younger boy buried his face in his textbook, and mumbled something inaudible. "...and a miniskirt!?"
They were Scientists; this was Nature. They were Modern; God is dead.
"Come on," he snorted. "As if I could say no to Al AND Winly looking at me like that."
Winry had scraped a promise out of Ed.
Roy was far from at ease and he could not sleep, and so, instead, he watched Edward, feeling anxiety and guilt sink claws into his belly and tear into his mind.
Once Envy could have killed Al with the mere scratch of a sharp black finger against those thick bloody lines.
I know we're going to wind up in our power roles again and again, claws out, dipping hard, down into flesh that sprouts the sanctity of red, red, blood.
...it was something you had. And if it's something you had, it's something I want.
“Envy,” she murmured in her brother’s ear. “I need a favor.”
Twenty-one days, and it all falls down.
... to prove his point, he wields his tongue as he would a pen, hastily spelling out the letters P-E-R-V-E-R-T with his saliva...
Now the eyes were dull, the gold frosted, and bitter lines caged his mouth.
He realized for the first time that Edward, who he was used to seeing shadowed by blood and sweat and his own private sorrows, was actually beautiful.
Tomorrow: having to talk to fucking Hohenheim. The day after tomorrow: the apocalypse. No pressure, eh?
Ed should have remembered this from that month on the island, back when he was a kid: you can only be in the great outdoors so long before you start dreaming of hot showers. And of dumping the people you're travelling with in them.
"Stop that," he snapped, flicking the tap on. "Change into something a little more appropriate. You're not him, brother."
He's a pessimist with an ego seven miles long; he's a scientist, too, doesn't approve of Al's books.
Dodge or block, it was still a whirlwind of events that could end up with him either winning or losing.
Roy had not wanted to cry for many years; he hadn't wept since Ishbal.
"Did God," Scar asked softly, "mean for us to die?"
You had to hand it to Roy, he certainly knew how to keep his cool.
It is to such a morning that Alphonse wakes up, light pouring in through the blinds and over the bed sheets.
With no warning at all, something changed in the air between them, and the fight turned dirty.
"Go back to sleep, Mustang," Ed answers absently, flipping the page.
There is no safety for a man like me. I will be found, caught and executed without much fanfare.
rated:M-L-S-V | S×S | post-series |
I have enough things to worry about without dragging you into my messes. Why did you have to be the one to come after me?
"Hi Brother!" the other end of the phone chirped, and Ed's shoulders immediately went from tense to jelly.
He gently turned Ed's head so that he faced the camera, and with just a little luck, Ling would catch that amazing expression Ed always had when he came.
“I said no, Fullmetal--hey, what are you mmnph!”
It's important that a little light always comes in, even if it's only enough to see shadows and outlines, and not words at all.
Why was Ed still letting this fear haunt him? How long was the lingering pain of these old wounds going to hang between them?
Alfons had never had anyone his age to horse around with, Edward thought, and as cerebral as he was he probably didn't get in many street fights.
They'd been on the run so long, Ed had long since lost track of the last time he'd slept in a bed instead of in an abandoned barn, or under a hedge.
The door opened, and all the energy Ed had been ready to put towards transmuting the door into a pile of sticks drained out of him through his feet.
"This is disgusting," he said aloud, then poked his head through the door and yelled, "Brother! This is disgusting!"
People paid a lot of money to see things like this, she imagined.
...Ed looks bored, but Alfons knows that it's an act, that Ed loves learning and these impromptu history lessons are favourites of his.
"He's the Fullmetal Alchemist," Alphonse interrupted, tapping his pen against his clipboard. "Are you sure you're up to the task?"
Inevitably, within five minutes of the door shutting, he has me wanting to put my automail in his face.
The sweet morning snaps like a fragile pane of glass and Al is sobbing, the sounds tearing up out of his chest and throat before he can stop them.
But Mustang would hold onto his control easily, manipulating the boy to lose more and more of his.
If he would permit himself to be honest, Alphonse would admit to Roy that he hates the rain, too.
Envy would never let him forget that the price of pride was destruction, and that those who infringed upon God's domain were damned.