You don't want to see spicy photos of my gorgeous girlfriend?
Yes, something was amiss, and Roy Mustang was going to find out what.
They are his signposts and self-inscriptions, cordoning off the book as his own, as something he possesses.
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.
Of all the castle's "guests," Roy was the only one not allowed to leave. Ever.
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.
"You finally took my advice and settled down! Not quite what I had in mind, of course, but I'm so happy for you!"
She moves the king again, to its last optional safe square and murmurs, "I'll admit this is not how I envisioned my first night on the battlefield."
"Well... Brother does that, every so often. He really should think before he tries to attack people."
Impress, they had told him. Make us see why we should choose you as one of our own.
Death could come to Roy on his time. Appointment first. Lunch, maybe.
Today I saw the god of fire, Roy writes in his notebook, knowing he will never be believed.
Eventually, Roy had to take things into his own hands. Was it really his fault that it had ended up so literal?
"When I walked in on you in the bath, Edward, I wasn't expecting Al to be there too."
Smug, he'd stayed just long enough to give his report and then had marched straight off to Resembool with Al lagging behind.
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.
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.
Years later when they shipped him off on a belated honeymoon, Roy went without audible protest.
He even dragged out his Best Manners for the occasion, the ones his mother had taught him so long ago.
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 wasnít an alchemist, alchemy tended to stake a claim on all who were associated with it.
On Thursdays, Riza Hawkeye usually skipped the morning work and went to the office at noon.
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.
One day Edward was out kicking the crap out of those damn Homunculus with Al...
"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?"
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.
He remembered finding himself asking why the Fullmetal Alchemist would be the one to patch his own clothes.
ROY: [calmly] If drinking means acting like an idiot the way you are, I'm going to pass.
Roy could've sworn First Lieutenants existed only to invent torture methods for Colonels, but he wasn't about to say that one out loud.
Could I burn like that - would the lick of flames on my skin wipe me clean?
This really was turning out to be a day of surprises, thought Roy.
"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
Only some things, he knew, could be repaired. Not every broken sword could be re-forged.
And there was a certain look they shared, the one they both used when they thought Ed was being unreasonably stubborn.
"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
"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."
Ed did not want to die without seeing Alphonse again.
"Honestly, Fullmetal, I'm beginning to think that you're more trouble than you're worth."
Ed opened his mouth, and then closed it. "Visibility is that important to you, huh?" he said.
"...That is an order, Fullmetal, and I will have you court-martialed if you refuse."
Roy Mustang was shipped back home last week. Neat as a parcel of vegetables with the stamp upside-down on the crate.
He doesn't look anything like Roy, and she's not sure if that's good or bad.
Well, it sure looks like the rumors were true about Wednesday nights, Ed thought, easing inconspicuously along the edges of the room.† But I never knew so many soldiers were gay.
...The world is saved. You two can just gnaw on each other for the rest of your lives.
The only problem was that Ed didn't know what the heck "getting some" was or what he was being congratulated for.
And after all, no amount of rain can wash the blood away.
...the two men drank Roy's good whiskey, clinked glasses and Maes exclaimed that It was about damn time.
It would be a shame if the future Fuhrer got himself killed over something as trivial as a chess game.