TheFullmetalFanClub

“I’m sick of eating like a baby!” Al whined, glaring at his bowl of mashed potatoes and beef broth.  He turned his eyes to the other side of the hospital room he shared with Edward. Ed sat on the edge of his bed with his trey in front of him fully enjoying his own food: herb roasted chicken, steamed vegetables and a buttery dinner role.  Al’s mouth watered as he enviously eyed his brother’s meal. “Brother, can I pleeeeeeease have just one tiny bite of that chicken?” Al pleaded. “Or maybe just an itty bitty piece of the role?” Alphonse Elric had fantasized that as soon as he had his body

She called Alphonse in the late afternoon.  This was unusual for her because Pinako Rockbell had usually been one to leave her honorary grandsons to their own devices.  She asked him how he was adjusting to living in Central City, what it was like being a “dog of the military” and if teaching alchemy at the State Military Academy was as fulfilling as he had hoped it would be.  Al replied as he always did, with warm laughter and a hopeful belief that things were changing for the better in Amestris and that he was proud to continue to be a part of it.  Pinako hung up the phone with an uncharacteristic wistful smile and a deep breath

Gracia Hughes might as well have been a military officer the way she marched down the long hall of Investigations Headquarters toward the office that used to belong to her husband but now belonged to Lieutenant Colonel Frank Archer. Her eyes were red and angry with unshed tears and she clutched a front page newspaper article in her right fist. On that front page was the picture of a young officer: Second Lieutenant Maria Ross, who had been convicted of the murder of Brigadier General Maes Hughes. Convicted, my ass, Gracia thought and she stopped briefly in front of the closed office door. She smoothed her skirt with her empty hand before lett

He never left the mansion grounds, nor did his mother.  He was home schooled by a teacher who lived on sight and given piano lessons by one of the maids.  He never once questioned his sequestered life.  He was content and had no reason not to be.  Until one night… … … Fourteen year old Selim Bradley awoke to the bone chilling sound of painful screams in the dead of night.  It was coming from just down the hall, and panic shot through the teen’s veins. “MOTHER!!” he cried out.  He flung the covers off the bed and sprinted toward his bedroom door and nearly lost his mind when the door, at first, would not op