The room had gotten hot and stuffy, and there was sweat on both of his hands, though the sheen on the automail had not come from his own body.
Impress, they had told him. Make us see why we should choose you as one of our own.
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.
On Thursdays, Riza Hawkeye usually skipped the morning work and went to the office at noon.
“Brother, don’t be ungrateful! Ling is trying very hard to teach you proper use of the Xingian language!”
She remembers the dreamlike way the pieces seemed to sit on the board—on account of the light, maybe, or perhaps her own faltering memory.
Even though she wasn’t an alchemist, alchemy tended to stake a claim on all who were associated with it.
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.
Winry could not imagine going so far for someone whose name you couldn't even say. She couldn't imagine going so far without allowing yourself to say his name.
Grandfathers should want different things for their grandchildren, shouldn't they?
There are things he cannot allow Greed to do.
He had believed, until that moment, that he had moved beyond carnal wants and human feelings.
Al thought, grimly, that he was getting rather good at this.
She hasn't learned not to weep — only to weep without tears.
The lilacs would wither all too soon, but until then she intended to indulge herself, carrying the scent of home with her wherever she went.
The question "Why learn?" always stops him; he cannot imagine not wanting to learn.
Surrounded by foes, he passed through them unseen, unheard, unmarked — one more gray ghost among the damned.
They wouldn't be leaving until well after sunset, trusting Al to guide them through the dense thicket of sassafras and witch hazel to the road.
He can do the math; he knows that with two of them and only one of her, there's no good way for things to come out even.
Gentle and wise and intelligent and kind... and so unlike anyone she'd ever known in Xing...
"My neighbors would start saying things behind my back if I took home a suit of armor."
I didn't understand that, didn't comprehend why being clean for going into the earth was a good thing until much later...
"This one's for you, Al." Edward swore, raised the glass to his lips, and braced for the impact.
Tonight it is a comforting chatter, in a strange way, that takes Lan Fan's mind away from Young Master's perhaps impossible goal.
There was really too much good happening today to allow room for imperfection, in his humble opinion.
...it's making up for years with a date and flowers by alternately giving her the good, and then the bad, and then the good, and then the bad, and then the horrible.
I needed something that said 'I am Elicia Hughes, more than just Daddy's Girl.'
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.
“You just need to make it clear to him that he may have an opinion on the matter, but in the end, you’re the one who’s going to be doing all the work. Roy and I had that discussion months ago, and he’s been very cooperative ever since.”
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?”
“Um, you must’ve learned that from Colonel Bastard. You’d better not be flashing that at the nurses. Or at me, ever, ever again.”
Yes, something was amiss, and Roy Mustang was going to find out what.
Eventually, Roy had to take things into his own hands. Was it really his fault that it had ended up so literal?
Roy could order her to stay home and rest, but he couldn't keep her from cleaning.
They were good boys, and smart, and she trusted them to stay mostly out of trouble. Mostly.
Ed swallowed hard at that--Al could hear the gulp, could see his Adam’s apple bob, and copied the swallow reflexively to see what it would feel like.
Mustang's men watched her warily from their desks, all twitchy and afraid to meet her eye. That was good: nervous dogs were easier to train.
These days, he loves the movies.
Thank you for your resumes, gentlemen.
Here was the corner where she retreated, reloading her gun as she prepared for another kill.
"Each State Alchemist gets two subordinates; one foot soldier and one sniper," the General droned, organizing the files into a neater state in their folder and walking over to hand them to Mustang.
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."
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.
The last thing she remembers of him was his voice begging a stranger to keep her safe. Begging for her useless life.
It was honestly not a kiss.
To her, the Philosopher's Stone is blood and fire: his fire, her blood.
Riza looks straight ahead. "Personally, I found during my time in Ishbal that nothing stops a career faster than a bullet between the eyes."
"Well, I guess she can't keep him away from every bitch in heat around this place."
They would bow, they would drop into a fighting stand and extend their swords, there would be the shout of en garde. And then she would take him down.
"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
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.
He closed his fist around her sash and curled into himself, trying to keep his thoughts away from dark things.
"Because," said Al flatly, "Roy is dark and handsome and--most importantly of all--charming. And you're short and blond and obnoxious."
The kid had said she was into ... different things, but in all his years Greed could not recall ever having found eggs a helpful sex aide.
It was well known around Central headquarters that Roy Mustang was lusting after the visiting Major-General.
It was sure to be a disaster.
It started with Ling's lips simply pressed up against Ed's. Well, of course it did. That was how kisses sort of went, but this was, well, a bit surprising.
"Hey, Ed, you're awfully cheery this morning."
This really was turning out to be a day of surprises, thought Roy.
It was kind of ironic, and kind of inconvenient, that Rush Valley, the capital city of automail, was also hot as hell for half the year.
You don't want to see spicy photos of my gorgeous girlfriend?
"I am using this spirit gum to stick this necklace over my tattoo. Now stop poking your nose down my cleavage and give me some privacy, Envy."
The chi flows in its circuits through the body, just as blood pulses through the veins.
Lust was getting a migraine. It had started with an aura, a little blind spot that had popped into her vision the minute Envy sidled up to her and said family meeting.
"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
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.
The first thing Gracia bought after her husband died was a stepladder.
There were plenty of reasons she might have had two strapping policemen in her apartment first thing in the morning, but none of them involved a tiny, grouchy kid sitting at her kitchen table and scratching the dirt out of the woodgrain with his thum
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.
"No one shuns their duty in Xing," she said, firmly and leaving no room to brook argument, the way her elders had always passed the maxim to her.
"There is no corresponding word in your language. There is consort, but most people seem to think that that is some kind of advisory position. Then there is wife, which is a bit closer to the true definition--"
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.
"You know it's a good thing I heal almost immediately, because otherwise I'd be so sore, I'd never get anywhere in the story."
Roy Mustang still doesn't entirely understand First Lieutenant Riza Hawkeye. Perhaps he never will.
Like a sudden flashback to younger years, both Hawkeye and Havoc realized that this was as good a time as any to experiment.
Edward needs pushing. Hohenhiem wants to push him with his own two hands — to touch.
Al thought of Martel, of Nina. He didn't want to be a chimera.
Al himself had asked for nothing, except the one thing that Hohenheim wouldn't give him. Freedom.
Roy flinched a little and walked the rest of the way down the hall -– to his fate. No, today would not be easy.
The nurses knew all about these interludes, of course, but it was not something they could do anything about.
This is not how normal people behave, Ed's mind warned him.
Ling. Ambitious, greedy Ling. He deserved what he got.
...it was something you had. And if it's something you had, it's something I want.
"So," said Ling. "I was thinking, perhaps my father can buy out Ed's contract."
Greed watched his every move like a hawk, mimicking his mannerisms.
With no warning at all, something changed in the air between them, and the fight turned dirty.
It's a paradoxical situation; Alphonse is closer to Edward than he has ever been, yet somehow he feels as if they don't know each other at all.
Ed tilted his head down, looked up under Greed's bangs — and there, he saw a familiar, shaky grin.
I was talking with Al one day. And I was explaining how a long-term relationship is like a religion. They both have similar hallmarks...
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.
“I said no, Fullmetal--hey, what are you mmnph!”
Between Ed's commanding presence and the fact that Al had been an impressively large suit of spiked armor, it had been hard to get to know him much.
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.
He doesn't look anything like Roy, and she's not sure if that's good or bad.
“I’ve never seen an alchemist who didn’t need to draw one of those circles,” he complimented, in a tone just shy of cooing. “You must be pretty special.”
There was something extremely satisfying about Ed's body.
At a large mahogany desk, polished to an almost jewel-like shine, sat Colonel Edward Elric, who was deep into his paperwork. Or at least that is how he appeared.
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
Hadn't he survived a month on a deserted island when he was ten, equipped only with a little knife and one pair of shorts? He was tough. He was rugged. He could fall asleep anywhere. He could totally do this.
Of course he came through the window.
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.
Stay observant! Amestris needs you!
They could profane the inner sanctum; it would be a perfect cat burglary. Her father would never know a thing.
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.
After the fighting was over, and the chaos afterwards, and after that the longer, slower process of establishing a semblance of order and calm, they finally got to the good part. Which was to say, the partying.
What the hell was he going to say when Ed and Winry asked him if he met any nice girls in Xing?
Winry had never gotten to appreciate the leather pants in her current position as the person who got to unzip them.
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
Most of the early scientific practices rooted in alchemy are based on the belief that one must taste, touch, see, feel, hear and smell a tangible result--and be able to duplicate it--rather than take the results for granted.
Who can do alchemy? If alchemy is a route to understanding/embracing one's own godhood, do all humans have such godhead potential as a state of being human?