"You paid for him to have sex?" Mustang says incredulously, putting his pen down on the table top and shoving the form away. "You bought him a prostitute?"
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.
There was a loud crack, like the sound of several chopsticks simultaneously being snapped in two, followed by the sound of something heavy falling, the object hitting the ground so hard the earth literally shook beneath Ed's feet.
It’s February in Central. There’s nothing better to do.
Roy Mustang was shipped back home last week. Neat as a parcel of vegetables with the stamp upside-down on the crate.
He has seen the desert. Seen her scorched and scarred beneath his steady hands. Stepped in her tattered remains, tasted her ashes with every breath.
Even though she wasn’t an alchemist, alchemy tended to stake a claim on all who were associated with it.
Dodge or block, it was still a whirlwind of events that could end up with him either winning or losing.
It was getting kind of depressing, though, by the time the color red alone would make him wonder about the child; the flash of a cardinal, a sprig of bright berries, the gaudiness of nighttime tavern lights, and the scarlet lipstick of bar women.
It was so terribly painful, really, the way he would smile when he was about to cry.
"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
"Don't go to sleep," he murmurs into Ed's hair, and thinks of their mother, long ago, telling a story about spinning straw into gold.
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.
If Ed had his way, his allowance (and all of Roy's salary) would be spent entirely on the most expensive brand of dog food to have ever existed.
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
“Sir,” he says, and Roy could be imagining it, but he thinks Falman’s usually flat tone has a hint of panic in it. “Have you read this memo yet?”
He recalled lifting it cautiously up to his nose, and then back away from the stinging, spicy herbs along with the smouldering scent of tobacco.
"Then I'm gonna rule the world, too," Maes replied, because he and Roy always did everything together.
Of all the castle's "guests," Roy was the only one not allowed to leave. Ever.
Roy was silent when Maes came back several minutes later. If he heard the sounds of retching from the bathroom, he didn't say.
It does not occur to him until later — years later — that this might be considered a case of sexual abuse.
While the Chief practices his best vengeful face and looks up the recipe for a fake corpse in some freaky alchemy cookbook, Breda and the rest of Team Mustang get to deal with the really annoying bits of this operation.
"Don't look so downcast!" orders Mustang, grinning maniacally. "Our honour is at stake! Don't let me down! Sometimes you just have to take one for the team!"
rated:K-L | M+F S+S | Mangaverse | pre-series | SP: no plot spoilers but stars characters we meet up t | Briggs Bears | Buccaneer | Miles | Olivia Mira Armstrong | Roy Mustang | 354th FG HQ | Rebecca Catalina
And after all, no amount of rain can wash the blood away.
They could profane the inner sanctum; it would be a perfect cat burglary. Her father would never know a thing.
"You'll be up against the wall before you know it, Mustang, right where you belong, eating the bullets of a firing squad for breakfast."
Only some things, he knew, could be repaired. Not every broken sword could be re-forged.
This really was turning out to be a day of surprises, thought Roy.
He remembered finding himself asking why the Fullmetal Alchemist would be the one to patch his own clothes.
"When I walked in on you in the bath, Edward, I wasn't expecting Al to be there too."
...the two men drank Roy's good whiskey, clinked glasses and Maes exclaimed that It was about damn time.
Even so, you still are a manipulative bastard.
"...That is an order, Fullmetal, and I will have you court-martialed if you refuse."
And there was a certain look they shared, the one they both used when they thought Ed was being unreasonably stubborn.
One day Edward was out kicking the crap out of those damn Homunculus with Al...
Once you promised me that you would dance on my grave. I'm keeping you to that promise, you know.
You don't want to see spicy photos of my gorgeous girlfriend?
Around when the hour of nine rolls up to the door, fat as a bellied barfly, Roy has already taken his jacket off the hook and has gone outside to walk.
ROY: [calmly] If drinking means acting like an idiot the way you are, I'm going to pass.
He just carries himself with a certain atmosphere, one that feels like splinters of buildings falling off walls and landing broken or the smell of roasted flesh.
Today I saw the god of fire, Roy writes in his notebook, knowing he will never be believed.
Death could come to Roy on his time. Appointment first. Lunch, maybe.
"I know how things work, sir," the boy continued, laying the watch across his lap.
"When you put it that way--" Roy conceded. "But it does seem improbable. You promised me a murderer, but are you so sure that it was no accident?"
"Tall girls need not apply," Hughes read aloud, without even the trace of a smirk.
rated:K | M+F S+S | Fullmetal | mid-series | First Place, Het & Non-Het | Green Lion Winner | Riza Hawkeye | Roy Mustang | angst | humor | sweet | Elric Kyoudai | 354th FG HQ | 2004 First Kiss, Non-Het
They are his signposts and self-inscriptions, cordoning off the book as his own, as something he possesses.
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."