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.
Even so, you still are a manipulative bastard.
Today I saw the god of fire, Roy writes in his notebook, knowing he will never be believed.
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.
And after all, no amount of rain can wash the blood away.
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.
Yes, something was amiss, and Roy Mustang was going to find out what.
"You're late," Ed tells him flatly. "You should have been here one minute and forty four seconds ago."
He doesn't look anything like Roy, and she's not sure if that's good or bad.
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.
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.
One day Edward was out kicking the crap out of those damn Homunculus with Al...
"...That is an order, Fullmetal, and I will have you court-martialed if you refuse."
Eventually, Roy had to take things into his own hands. Was it really his fault that it had ended up so literal?
...the two men drank Roy's good whiskey, clinked glasses and Maes exclaimed that It was about damn time.
"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?"
Fullmetal smiled a long, slow smile, the sort that promised evil things were in the near future, and put his boots up on Roy's desk.
Dodge or block, it was still a whirlwind of events that could end up with him either winning or losing.
They are his signposts and self-inscriptions, cordoning off the book as his own, as something he possesses.
“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?”
Roy Mustang was shipped back home last week. Neat as a parcel of vegetables with the stamp upside-down on the crate.
This wasn't really what he'd been expecting from surreptitious wartime sex. He'd thought it would be some kind of quickie round the back of the latrines.
Once you promised me that you would dance on my grave. I'm keeping you to that promise, you know.
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."
I didn't know on the phone. I didn't know on the train.
It would be a shame if the future Fuhrer got himself killed over something as trivial as a chess game.
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.
"You finally took my advice and settled down! Not quite what I had in mind, of course, but I'm so happy for you!"
On Thursdays, Riza Hawkeye usually skipped the morning work and went to the office at noon.
Death could come to Roy on his time. Appointment first. Lunch, maybe.
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.
"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."
"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
It hurt, somehow, to know that there was no one now who could see past the mask if he didn't want them to.
Smug, he'd stayed just long enough to give his report and then had marched straight off to Resembool with Al lagging behind.
"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?"
The staff look at each other, look at their automail bottle-opener, and prepare to duck.
According to Hughes, Major Mustang was close to promotion and as his subordinate, it was her prerogative to try and help him to reach the next rung of the ladder.
"Then I'm gonna rule the world, too," Maes replied, because he and Roy always did everything together.
He decided, then, quite firmly, that he wasn't ever going to drink coffee again, with anybody. It was too risky.
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.
"When I walked in on you in the bath, Edward, I wasn't expecting Al to be there too."
"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
PR, we need PR, he kept telling himself, but at this point he didn't think he could string more than two sentences together.
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
Could I burn like that - would the lick of flames on my skin wipe me clean?
Impress, they had told him. Make us see why we should choose you as one of our own.