Intense themes with a nightmarish edge or grim outlook.
"It's getting worse," his brother said as he came in the door.
rated:G | GEN | dark
"Have you ever thought about becoming a daddy?" Wrath said.
And when the next words followed, barely loud enough to be heard, the General was surprised by the force behind them.
Ed began to understand why some people talked to themselves.
This was always my favorite part of the day, when I could observe the wicked gleams of a glare I wasn't meant to see.
What kind of stupid creature would walk willingly and calmly to its own violent, brutal death?
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.
When the lines didn't matter, when the lungs weren't working in labor of sweet industry worlds, then it was so easy to see where they might be all born of the same blood.
"If you are going to keep pets, you are going to have to take care of them."
A small smile crept along her face--this visage made for mischief--and her tell-tale purple eyes narrowed.
We were the naive kings of all we surveyed, lingering on the hilltop as we stared at our kingdom of ash, of ruins, of dust.
Envy forced down the nasty smirk that threatened to overwhelm him.
This is the smell of ozone from a lightning strike. This is fear.
I've never regretted keeping you, Envy.
Edward doesn't come back the next night, or the next.
Roy had been among the rebels for weeks now, and he'd learned very early on that these men were dangerous, very dangerous.
Death could come to Roy on his time. Appointment first. Lunch, maybe.
"...If I...really went insane...I mean, completely lost my mind..." Ed said, carefully, "do you think you'd be able to stop me?"
Envy was no poet -- one could say that he lacked a poet's soul -- but he did recognize beauty when he saw it.
He was only human though, and he had given into his rage at having to deal with Edward's dysfunction--and now Edward was gone, and it looked more and more like he might not be coming back.
Before this war, he'd never wiped human blood off his automail.
But Mustang would hold onto his control easily, manipulating the boy to lose more and more of his.
Of all the castle's "guests," Roy was the only one not allowed to leave. Ever.
It was just as his body heat was beginning to bring the sheets up to a reasonable temperature that the noise caught his ears- an ugly scraping sound, unnatural and harsh in the silence of early morning hours.
Of course, when she was their age she could hardly recite her multiplication tables, much less draw complex alchemical glyphs.
All it took was a push of his hand and the twist of a small brass key to put it out of sight.
He was afraid, so afraid, that something would go wrong, but he couldn't let this go.
Ed meets his eyes, holds them, and then -- slowly, painfully, but deliberately, traces his free hand in a line across his throat.
The cheap ink has blurred and run, but Ed's memorized the gist: Riesenbul needs help; come sort things out.
A sin, to mar that innocence of sex, to put physical feelings with intellectual knowledge.
There were three ways to identify the Fullmetal Alchemist, wherever he went.
He didn't know why they would do this to him, why they would stare with sad eyes and sad lips, with mouths turned down for the frowns that came.
He’s killing his brother slowly, but he has already promised to do it quickly; what does it matter?
If Al hadn't known how often the older boy feigned unconsciousness in order to stave off these visits, he might have been fooled.
On the first night, he comes to her as her teacher.
Screaming or crying would have been appropriate. Edward Elric didn't care about propriety. He was laughing.
From saint to sinner, from mother to whoreâ€¦ She was far more beautiful in death than she'd ever been in life.
Faith didn't hold much of a place in my life; science was my passion, something I could see, something I could feel, could make sense of.
"Mother?" And his voice broke, shattered as he raced to her, arms wrapping around her thin body, embracing the image, the idea. "Mommy!"
Neither brother seems willing to speak, but their thoughts dip down into similar wells, dredging up the questions that most haunt them.
If she cries, he may have to kill her. He can't stand that sound any longer.
...when he presses his hand against the scraped array and wills it to activate, he can't help but send a whispered prayer to it. Please work. Please, please...
It's almost as though Al is the blind one, seeking to memorize his brother's features by touch.
"If I do not, I might begin to love you, whom I should hate."
Ed did not want to die without seeing Alphonse again.
"I'm sorry Al," he said at last. "For what it's worth, I never meant for this to happen to you."