Fics I'd Never Write
Oct. 17th, 2007 09:31 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
rajTitle: Fics I'd Never Write
Characters: Any and all FMA characters
Rating: NC-17
Warning: Not work or brain safe. Bizarre pairings and even more bizarre actions.
This is an ongoing game based on this meme:
Name three fics you think I will never, ever, ever write. In return, I will attempt to write a snippet of one of them.
It's basically turned into:
Give me a bizarre FMA prompt that I would never, ever, ever write, and I will write it into a short fic for you.
Feel free, after you've been scarred by the requests so far, to leave me another one to write. I'll be glad to do it. :) Try and scar me, come on! I dare you!
Title: Best Served Hot
Pairing: Gluttony/Envy
Rating: NC-17
Request: From![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
miyabi121190: "Gluttony/Envy and a juicy, gory description of Gluttony eating him afterwards."
Envy never would've expected it of the normally docile homunculus; all he ever did was follow Lust around like a fucking puppy, who would've ever thought he was capable of this?
Envy was pinned under the other's mass, and try as he might, shift as he did to and from every form he could think of- from a man he'd seen on the street, to the Fullmetal pipsqueak, to the face of the Master, and even finally to Lust herself- nothing could defer him, or ease the pain of the penetration. Gluttony was locked into him.
"You shouldn't have done it," Gluttony growled, "you shouldn't have hurt my Lust!"
"Stop it, you monster! I never touched your precious Lust! Get off me!"
"You hurt Lust," he growled, not fooled, and Envy screamed, a high, blood-curdling noise of complete terror as Gluttony lowered his head. There was a blinding flash of pain, a spurt of stone fluid, and Envy's arm disappeared down the raging homunculus's massive gullet.
Title: Private Threats
Pairing: Archer/Havoc
Rating: PG-13
Request: Fromfreaky_zero: "Archer/Jean"
The Lieutenant Colonel's skin was cold against Jean's cheek. His eyes, when he forced Jean's head to turn at meet them, were even colder. He smiled, and Jean's stomach twisted.
"That was an order, Lieutenant Havoc."
"Fuck your order," Jean growled, slapping Archer's hand away. "I won't tell you any-"
Archer caught his hand, squeezing it in his own. "On the contrary, Havoc," he snapped. "You can and you will. I know you've been observing Mustang for the brass. I want everything you have on him. Everything you left out of your little... report. And I want it now."
"And what if I refuse?"
"I'll have your rank, Private Havoc," he grinned, sliding his hand down to the rank insignia on his shoulder and ripped it away.
"I don't care," Jean said, eyes narrowed. Mustang wouldn't let Archer demote him, anyway, he still held some sway with the brass, and he could tell Archer knew it. But the Lieutenant Colonel only smirked. He pressed a finger to Havoc's shoulder and slowly worked it downward.
"Very well. Then maybe I'll have something a bit more... precious. Something you wouldn't want to go crying to your Colonel about."
"What the hell do you mean?" But his stomach sank. He was pretty sure he knew.
Title: Accident
Pairing: Roy/Havoc
Rating: PG-13
Request: Fromanat_astarte: "Roy/Jean - an accident with glue."
"Sir?"
Mustang groaned. It was past midnight after a particularly exhausting day; he'd been just about to climb into bed. He certainly wasn't in the mood to take calls from lower ranking officers.
"Ask me about it tomorrow, Havoc," Mustang grumbled, and was about to slam the phone down when the sound of his Lieutenant's voice stopped him.
"No! Wait, Sir! Please!" Havoc sounded desperate, panicked, almost on the verge of tears. Mustang stopped, concerned.
"Lieutenant? Are you all right?"
"I... I have a problem." His voice was pitiful. "I need help."
"Well? Spit it out, Havoc."
There was a long pause. "I... I can't say."
Mustang sighed, exasperated. He only had so much sympathy to go around, and as his clock's hands neared one AM, it was stretched even thinner than usual. "Then talk to me about it later."
"No, I need help! Please... just... just come over and help me? Please, Sir, I'm begging you..."
Mustang sighed. No, he didn't want to help. He wanted to sleep. But Havoc's voice was getting higher and more pathetic with every word, and damn if it wasn't starting to be almost heart-wrenching.
"Fine," he sighed. "I'll be there in ten minutes."
Ten minutes later, the door to Havoc's apartment opened just the slightest crack. One of his Lieutenant's blue eyes peeked out at him.
"Here I am," Roy grumbled. "Now, what is it that couldn't wait until a halfway decent hour?"
The door didn't move. Havoc's eye looked to the left.
"Well?" Roy's patience was at its end. "Are you even going to let me in, or shall I stand in the hallway for a few hours? Will that solve your problem?"
"Promise you won't laugh," Havoc whispered. Roy sighed.
"I won't laugh. Let me in, Havoc, it's freezing out here."
The eye disappeared and slowly the door swung open. Roy stomped inside, grumbling, and stood in the alcove, waiting for Havoc to step out from behind the door and close it. But he didn't. He only stood there, clutching the door with the fingers of one hand, only his head poking out from behind it.
"I'm getting awfully sick of this, Lieutenant," Roy warned. "Come out from behind the door or I'm going back out of it."
Havoc's face went an alarming shade of red, but he gave a slow nod, and slid the door closed.
Mustang's eyes widened. His Lieutenant stood before him, stark naked, with one hand dangling dejectedly by his side. The other hand didn't move from a rather compromising location on a rather specific portion of his anatomy. And, by the look of things, it didn't look like it was going to move.
"I reached for the wrong bottle," Havoc moaned, eyes clenching shut in humiliation.
And, since he'd promised, Roy bit his lips hard enough to draw blood in an effort not to burst into laughter.
Title: Christmas Ham
Pairing: Barry the Chopper/Gluttony
Rating: NC-17
Request: Fromseaweed_fma: "Barry the Chopper x Gluttony"
"You have an exquisite body," the skinny man with the big shiny knife cooed, in a voice like the one his Lust used when she was trying to make a man do whatever it was she wanted. Gluttony put a thick finger into his mouth and stared quizzically up at him.
"I do?"
"Yes, you do." The man smiled. "Nice and plump, just like a juicy Christmas ham!"
Gluttony's brow furrowed. He wasn't sure what a "Christmas ham" was. He wished Lust were there to explain it to him. "Really?"
"Yes. Yes, indeed. In fact," he lowered the big, shiny knife to Gluttony's pudgy gut. "I think I'll chop it up!"
Before Gluttony could say anything, the big, shiny knife swung forward, slicing cleanly though his torso, into his bowels, and through his spine. Stone fluid spurted in a macabre geyser, staining the sidewalk and the brick wall of the ally vivid crimson. Again and again the knife hacked, and Gluttony lay, the two halves of his body connected by a strand of intestine. He took the finger out of his mouth and sighed.
He picked up his lower half and ate it. He grimaced.
"That didn't taste very good."
The skinny man's jaw dropped and he yowled in confused anger. "What?! How are you alive!? I chopped you right in half! You can't be-"
Gluttony's lower half was regenerating below him, with a stingy, tickly feeling. It made him hungry. Once his legs had come back, he took a slow step toward the now panicked man and smiled.
"I bet you taste much better!"
When his Lust returned from the cigarette man's bedroom a few minutes later, Gluttony was picking his teeth with the big, shiny knife. He smiled, glad to have her back. She returned it.
"Did you find something to eat, Gluttony?" She purred, patting his head. He grinned and nodded.
Title: I Can Feel You
Pairing: Elricest
Rating: Hard R
Request: Fromcodename_windy: "Elricest, soon after AL gets his body back (for 5 year age difference), Ed seme, s&m, pr0n." (Sorry I didn't get much of the s&m in there. :( I tried.)
Edward squinted through the final blaze of light from the transmutation, trying to watch through the blinding flash as he held his breath, his pulse drumming in his ears.
Please let it work, please let it work, please let it work…
And just when he couldn’t hold his breath a second longer and flashes of red were going up behind his eyes, the light faded, leaving the room dark, the clouds of dust drifting down and settling, the elaborate circle he’d traced on the floor dim and oddly anticlimactic…
…But with a small, pale shape shivering in its center.
“A…Al?” The breath he’d been holding exploded out of him in a shaky whisper.
“…Brother?” The word came out in an achy croak of vocal chords too long neglected that almost masked the sweet, high voice, but Ed didn’t care. He sobbed, vaulting forward to wrap his arms around his little brother.
“Oh, Al—“ He gasped, faulting for some kind of word that would express everything he felt, but no such word existed, so he simply fell to looking at him, cradling him as gently as he could with his metal arm, running his flesh fingers through the soft hair, over his skin, down the bumps of his spine.
“Al… Al, you’re here…” It had been so long, but he hadn’t forgotten even an inch. Still hesitant, unable after so long and so many false hopes to believe even what was right before his eyes, he stroked harder. “Al… can… can you feel me, Al?”
“Brother… your fingers… they’re warm.” Smiling at him, the smile he’d never realized he’d cherished until it was gone, and Ed closed his mouth over Al’s, kissing him deeply.
Perfect. He’s here and he’s perfect…
He lay his brother down gently on the floor, trying to cover him, warm him with his own body, as he kissed him. He could feel himself hardening at the stimulation and thought dimly that he should be ashamed about it, but this was Al, and nothing with Al could ever be wrong or dirty.
He pulled away, running his fingers down his brother’s chest, his own teary smile reflected in his brother’s huge brown eyes.
“Al?”
“I can feel you, Brother,” he whispered, “I can feel you… I’ve wanted to feel you for so long…”
Ed grinned, his tears dotting Al’s chest as he stroked him, rubbing harder at the milky skin, scratching at it, watching red lines spring up in the wake of his fingers. He knew he shouldn’t do that, he should be gentle, Al was too delicate… but he couldn’t stop, desperate as he was after all this time to make sure Al was really his once more. He stroked, kissed, and licked his way over the thin body beneath him, watched pink flush banish the milky paleness, and finally drew back long enough to shed his own clothing, finally pulling their bare bodies together.
Skin like my skin… blood like my blood…
“Al? You can feel me? You can really feel me?”
His arms twined around Ed’s neck and once again they kissed.
“I feel you, Brother. I feel you…”
Title: Lesson Plan
Pairing: Izumi/Edward
Rating: R
Request: Fromwarwinds_mew: "Izumi/Edward. Sieg went on a trip, took Alphonse with him. Sensei drank more than is good for one and teaches Ed how to make ladies happy."
Ed was, quite frankly, terrified. He’d seen a lot of horrifying things in his life, watched his mother die of the plague, seen his best friend cry over her murdered parents, seen hundreds of brutally maimed soldiers shipped home from the war in the East, almost died of starvation marooned on an island with his brother… but all of that paled in comparison to this.
“Aren’t you listening to me? Pay attention when I’m talking to you!” Pain flared at his jaw; one thing was certain, his teacher’s fist certainly wasn’t affected by alcohol, even if her rationality seemed to have taken quite a hit.
“I’m listening, I’m listening!” He assured, trying to back further away into the corner of the bed.
“You better listen. I’m sure your mom never got around to this, and you don’t have any older sisters to tell you this stuff, if you don’t know you’ll end up being hopeless with women and never find a wife. Now,” she took his flesh hand and brought it down to the front of her dress. Ed squirmed. “Breasts. I’m sure you’ve put in a good deal of thought about them, so it’s as good a place as any to start. I’m sure your first instinct is just to squeeze the hell out of them, but it’s important to be gentle.” She rolled his fingers back and forth. “Stroke, pay particular attention to the nipples, they’re some of the most nerve-rich areas on the female body—”
Ed wondered briefly if telling his teacher he was gay might be enough to defer her. He decided it probably wouldn’t, since it was because he’d been caught… er… examining a few books that definitely hadn’t been on the alchemy curriculum Izumi had been instructing them in. He wished with all his heart and soul Al hadn’t picked that day of all days to accompany Sieg on a trip to the knife sharpener. If Al had been there he never would’ve—
“Pay attention!” Her smack sent his brain spiraling in his head. “Now, onto intercourse. I know you know all about it clinically, but there’s a lot more to it than the medical side of things. When you’re making love to a woman—”
Ed felt he couldn’t die soon enough.
Title: Sculpted Perfection
Pairing: Sieg/Armstrong
Rating: PG
Request: Frommonaki: "Sieg/Armstrong"
It was quite a pity, Armstrong often reflected, that his fellow countrymen seemed so blind to the inexplicable beauty of a well-muscled body.
Surely Armstrong loved his country—did not his body pulse and swell with his devotion to its picturesque land, its powerful history, its diligent and illustrious citizens?—and would have gladly laid down his life in its service in a second, asking nothing in return…but there was the odd moment when he wished his fellow countrymen would meet his glorious physique with something other than wide-eyed speechlessness.
Keeping that in mind, words could not express the joy that rippled through Armstrong’s marvelously sculpted body on his first meeting with the butcher from Dublith. Here, here was a man who understood the beauty of a strong body, who could relish its artistic motions and revel in its glorious sculpted perfection! He alone could relate to the toilsome hours spent to produce the unequaled splendor of a muscular body!
When he flexed his beautiful, powerful arms, Armstrong read every ripple, understood every pulse of blood. He saw the uderstanding in the butcher’s eyes when he countered with a single ripple of his great thighs. Here at last was someone he could truly speak with, someone at last on the same level as the glorious Armstrongs themselves!
Title: A Clear Head
Pairing: Chimera!Tucker/Martel/Greed
Rating: NC-17
Request: Fromspace_mutt: "Chimera!Tucker/Martel/Greed"
Shou Tucker knew he was insane. He’d known if for years now, even before he’d done what he’d done to his wife and daughter. He simply didn’t let the knowledge affect him.
It was simply the strain of his intelligence. He’d never quite had the strength to deal with the kid of power his mind was capable of, and he suspected it was so for every alchemist, to a degree. He’d seen it flickering in the eyes of his superiors, and those of the would-be State Alchemists that had come and gone over the years. It was too great a power not to exploit, and in the end, it had driven him mad.
He’d once escaped from his madness through his wife, letting the crash of climax momentarily drive the hundreds on thousands of complex equations from his tortured skull, but of course, if the end he’d lost that particular form of release.
Maybe that’s what had finally pushed him this far.
He hadn’t even been sure this new body was functional in that way. He couldn’t see his genitals, what with the awkward placement of his head, and it had only been once he’d caught a glimpse of the peculiar female chimera that he’d even realized he was still capable of feeling lust. She’d come with the homunculus who wanted his help, but he hadn’t been able to concentrate on his words, his eyes locked on her quick, lithe body.
“Tell you what,” the homunculus laughed, tracing a line up his chin, over his neck, down his chest and circling his nipple. “I can tell you’re a man who knows what he wants. Say you’ll help me out and I’ll get Martel here to help you out.”
“Greed!” She gasped, voice appalled, but he shushed her with a finger on her lips, sliding his arms around her. He stroked her ass through her baggy clothes and Tucker felt a tremor race up his spine.
“You know I’m greedy,” he purred into her ear. “I wouldn’t give you up. Just think of it as a spoonful of medicine… a quick bad taste and then everything’ll be much better for all of us, hmm?”
She grimaced, but lowered herself, sliding under Tucker’s strange body. He felt fingers in his fur, then on his penis, and then quick licks and flutters of an oddly serpentine tongue. He moaned.
The homunculus grinned, resuming his teasing of Tucker’s nipples as she worked below him. “Shame you had to get yourself this way,” he laughed, amused at the oncoming climax showing itself on the alchemist’s face. “You might’ve been halfway decent to look at once upon a time.”
The chimera below him sucked hard just as the homunculus scratched into his chest, hard enough to draw beads of blood, and the twist of sensations in his stomach sent him over the edge. When he came to himself, the lithe little female chimera was standing, spitting onto the dingy concrete floor. The homunculus laughed.
“So, then, Mr. Tucker. We have a deal?”
His mind clear for the first time in months, Tucker smiled. “Yes. We do.”
Title: Loyalty of the Highest Caliber
Pairing: Black Hayate/Charlie the Dog (Roy and Jean's pet fromgaluxkitty and my anime AU)
Rating: PG (for nuzzling)
Request: Frommercy_slays: Black Hayate/Charlie the dog, the masters finding out.
Your masters certainly are silly, Hayate sniffed, turning away from Charlie to sniff at a small furry bug inching its way over the grass.
Charlie gave a short, defensive bark. They are not! They’re really great! Light-furred master gives me nice things to eat and belly scratches all the time, and dark-furred master… well, dark-furred master can be scary, but he never smells like he really means it, and when there aren’t any other humans around, he’s very friendly!
Hayate yawned, abandoning the bug to sniff at the fence post. Calm down, pup. That’s not what I meant.
Well, what did you mean, then? Charlie gave a grudging sniff to the post, following Hayate’s path around the confines of the yard.
They’re both males, idiot. They’ll never make puppies that way.
Annoyed at the older dog’s continued insults toward his beloved masters, Charlie bristled and yipped. So what? Your mistress didn’t even bring a mate! Who are you to talk about puppies?
Hayate scoffed. It still seems silly to me.
Charlie growled, and butted his head forward, knocking the smaller dog to the ground. Hayate yipped, but Charlie held him pinned with his huge yellow paws. You shut up!
Hayate sneezed; he’d scattered up dust when he fell. Get off me, pup. I wasn’t done smelling your fence.
Charlie bristled, deep in thought. He couldn’t stand to see his masters put down, especially by a strange dog who didn’t know what good masters they actually were. He wanted to bite, but he wasn’t allowed; light-furred master would be mad and sad if Charlie bit his friend’s dog, and whenever he accidentally made light-furred master mad and sad, Charlie couldn’t stop whimpering for hours. Besides, the other dog didn’t really smell mean enough to deserve a bite. He obviously just didn’t understand.
At that thought, Charlie’s tail began to wag. He knew exactly what to do.
They aren’t silly. I’ll show you! And he began to nuzzle the other dog’s neck, licking and sniffing.
Hayate barked in surprise. What do you think you’re doing!? Crazy pup, get off me!
Charlie yipped, nuzzling the other dog closer. He’d show him what his masters did wasn’t strange, he’d show him it was just—
“What the fucking hell is that dog doing now, Havoc?”
“Come on, Roy, don’t… oh, my god. Charlie! What the hell are you doing?! Get off! Damnit, Roy, I told you we should’ve put him out in the yard that time we were messing around on the couch—”
“You’re the one who let him inside in the first place!”
Charlie couldn’t understand his master’s words, but he did understand when light-furred master suddenly seized his collar and pulled him away. His eyes widened in confusion; he’d only been defending them!
“Fuery was right. I don’t think either of you are qualified to own a pet.” And Hayate, still on the ground, had to wag his tail despite his current indignity. After all, he’d rarely heard his mistress laugh so loud.
Title: Choke
Pairing: Armstrong/Mustang
Rating: PG
Request: Fromsevlow: "Mustang/Armstrong - uke!Roy"
Mustang had been halfway through the process of swallowing a mouthful of his Brandy Alexander when what felt like a full-sized cannonball clapped him on the back. Even the combined forces of Roy’s esophagus and gravity were no match for it, and the sip of sweetened liquor flew violently upward again, streaming out of his mouth and nose, burning like fire and making a horrible mess of the front of his uniform.
Armstrong seemed to take no notice of the Colonel’s predicament, barreling on with his speech.
“Colonel Mustang, it saddens my heart to see you in such a miserable state. I’m sure whatever is troubling you must weigh heavily on your soul for you to be drinking alone like this. Please, if I can be of service in any way, don’t hesitate to say so. As I’m sure you know, Sir, sometimes a friendly ear can do wonders for a heavy heart.”
Mustang would’ve replied, but the combination of brandy, crème de cacao, and heavy cream currently dribbling through his sinuses made speech impossible. The best he managed was a choked gasp. The burning sensation made his eyes water, and, unfortunately for Mustang, Armstrong looked over his shoulder long enough to see the moisture gleaming in the corner of his eye.
Armstrong’s grip on Mustang’s shoulders tightened, and his own tears began to stream down his face. “My dear old friend, I can’t imagine what could pain you so deeply. Please, allow me to take you home. There are several foolproof methods for cheering distraught friends I know of that have been passed down the Armstrong line for generations. Stimulating conversation, deep massage, loving embraces, exercises in dynamic tension… please, you must allow me to help you, Colonel!”
Before Mustang could even attempt to speak and decline the invitation, he found himself being roughly lifted from his barstool, kissed sloppily on both cheeks, and carried out the door and toward Armstrong’s apartment.
He moaned to himself, wondering what Havoc was going to think when he got back from the bathroom and found out his date for the evening had been stolen again… literally.
Title: Mirror, Mirror
Pairing: Pride!Ed/Fem!Ed
Rating: PG-13
Request: Fromeyesofthenight: "Pride!Ed/Fem!Ed"
He bristled at the sight of her, looking so much like him, a pale human imitation that dared tread on his own perfection. He approached her, meaning to taunt her for it, make her somehow pay.
“Get away from here!” Her voice was higher than his, but kept the same timbre. He smiled. Her agitation at the mere sight of him could make things interesting.
“No.” He smiled, pressing against her, wrapping his arms around her chest. The softness of her breasts dueled with the hard metal at her shoulder, and he felt the flesh of his arms being ground between the gears of the automail.
“Let go of me!” She struggled, trying to bring her hands together and transmute, but his grip was too strong.
“You hate that I look like you,” he whispered, lips brushing the shell of her ear. She screamed, turned, and bit into his neck in an effort to make him release her. Stone fluid dribbled into her mouth and she gagged, but he wasn’t deferred. “I hate it, too. I hate that you look like me, because you’ll never be as good as me. And don’t you forget it.”
She brought her metal knee up, grinding it into his crotch, seeming to think he’d be deferred by pain. But she’d forgotten he shared her stubbornness just as sure as he shared her face, and it would take more than a bit of hurt to make him yield.
“I’ll fucking kill you!” She yelled, before he hid her foul mouth with a brutal kiss. When he pulled back, her lips and teeth were dripping blood.
“Baby,” he purred, “I’m afraid you can’t.”
Title: Sweet
Pairing: Original!Greed/Ed
Rating: PG-13
Request: Fromgreedy_lover: "Original!Greed/Ed - marshmallow."
“How is this equivalent exchange for anything?” Ed growled, turning his mouth away from the homunculus’s outstretched fingers.
“I told you what I wanted, kid. I don’t have to say why. That wasn’t part of the deal.” Greed smiled, baring those needle-sharp teeth. He wrapped his arm tighter around Ed’s shoulders, drawing him nearer. “If I were you, I’d count yourself lucky this is all I wanted. Now eat up.”
The fingers were back, waving the fluffy white square before Ed’s lips. He sighed and opened his mouth, feeling for all the world like a baby bird, and let the homunculus slide the marshmallow in.
Greed moaned softly when Ed’s lips closed over his fingertips, taking both the confection and the film of powdered sugar it had left away from his fingers. “That’s good. That’s real good.”
“I’m getting really damn sick of these things,” Ed grumbled as he chewed, trying to force the saccharine morsel down his throat. His mouth already felt thick and slimy with too much sugar.
“That’s too bad, isn’t it? You’ve got half a plate left to go…” Greed took another marshmallow from the tray and squeezed it flat, watching it reinflate itself when he released his grip.
“They’re probably poisoned,” Ed mumbled, opening his mouth to take it.
“I wouldn’t do a thing like that. Watch.” He rolled Ed to face him, snatched the marshmallow back, and licked it. “See?” He placed the slightly dampened candy to Ed’s lips, where it met a cry of disgust from the young alchemist.
“That’s disgusting! I’m not eating that one!”
“Probably should have thought of that before you accused me,” Greed countered, pressing it between Ed’s stubborn lips and laughing at his grimace. “You’d think you’d never shared a snack before, kid…”
“Shut up. And go faster, would you? This is taking forever.”
“Better watch it. Remember, time’s on my side here. You made your deal; you let me feed you a plate of marshmallows, I let you take your little brother and go home. So open up, little Edward,” he grinned, pulling him closer, chuckling at his outraged babbling and brushing another marshmallow against his lips. “It’s time to pay your price.”
Title: An Old Lady's Musings
Pairing: Pinako/Armstrong
Rating: PG
Request: Fromnumi_nami: "Pinako/Armstrong. Can it be done?"
Pinako was sitting in the large, comfortable chair by the window, puffing her pipe and letting her aching fingers rest after a long day tinkering with Ed’s automail leg. Across from her, taking up most of the sofa, Major Armstrong was resting after a long day of splitting firewood, mending their roof, putting up new fence rails, and whitewashing their front porch. She had, of course, tried to talk him out of doing all those things, but he’d been incredibly insistent. So now they rested together, with Ed asleep on the cot in the clinic, Al watching from the corner, and Winry napping at her workbench (even at Pinako’s urging, the girl had refused to give in and go to bed.)
Pinako was used to spending her evening resting in her chair, but she wasn’t used to having company. After all, she was an old woman now, and didn’t need as much sleep as her granddaughter did. Not that she minded, of course. But it was nice to have a little company.
Particularly company as strong and virile as the current company had proved to be. It had been twenty years since she’d seen her husband to his grave; having a man around again was a pleasant diversion. Just his presence was enough to bring her back to the days when she’d been a young woman, spending the evenings in her young husband’s arms.
They talked pleasantly—far more pleasantly than she’d expected, him being one of the State’s dogs—first about Ed and Al and whether or not they were keeping themselves out of too much trouble, then about his life—told in breathless superlatives that left her biting back giggles—and then finally her life, what it was like in Risembool now, what it had once been like, and all the places her life had taken her. By the end of the talk he’d somehow migrated across the room and was attending to her aching feet with an acupressure massage technique he assured her had been proved tried and true in the Armstrong line for generations.
When she finally did turn to go up to her own bed, she paused, momentarily entertaining the idea of asking him to join her. He was big, certainly, but he’d be gentle, and she was fairly sure he’d say yes if she asked. But she dismissed the thought quickly enough, with a slight giggle and a final draw from her pipe. She supposed she was too old to try such unlikely trysts anymore. Maybe if he’d caught her eye ten years ago…
“Something on your mind, dear lady?” He asked, kneeling—really kneeling—before her feet in a gallant display she was sure had been passed down to him from countless generations. She laughed, flicking the single blonde curl on his forehead.
“Just an old lady’s musings. Make yourself as comfortable as you can on the couch, young man. I’ll see you tomorrow for breakfast.”
Title: Affection
Pairing: Wrath/Al
Rating: PG
Request: Frombloody_winged: "Wrath/Al. Maybe something where Wrath looks at Ed like a big brother and Al get jealous."
It had taken months after Ed’s return for him to even willingly look at the boy, and even longer before he’d concede to speaking to him. Al had been encouraging his brother to be kinder to the young homunculus, since the boy had nowhere to go, so he’d been glad when, almost a year later, he’d found Ed with a book open on his lap, explaining some minor chemical compositions to Wrath.
At least, he’d been glad right up until the point he’d seen the boy smile back at Ed, looking up at him with gratitude. Looking up at him like you looked at an older brother who’d just shown you something wonderful.
That look grated at Al’s mind the rest of the day, and after dinner he caught Wrath on his way out the door, on his way to wherever it was he went when he wasn’t hanging around their house like a lost puppy.
Al hadn’t known quite what he was going to say, but in the end he didn’t need to say anything. Once he’d seen the look in Al’s eyes, a strange, smug look had come into the boy’s eyes.
“Don’t like me messing around with your brother?”
Al was shocked. “No! No, it isn’t like that… I just—”
“You don’t want to share him. He’s yours, after all, isn’t that right?”
Al didn’t know how to counter that. His fists trembled slightly at his sides. Wrath laughed, sounding crueler than he had in months. Abruptly he seized Al, wrapping his arms around him and kissing his cheek. Al gasped, trying to squirm away from the grip, but he couldn't break free.
“Don’t worry,” Wrath purred. “He’s not the one I want.”
Title: Mental Imagery
Pairing: Yoki/Lyra
Rating: PG-13
Request: Frommir280: "Yoki with anyone."
Yoki sat opposite her at the far end of the formal dining table, face set as always in its prim little pout, fiddling with the ends of his moustache. He smiled down at her, and she had a sudden vivid flashback of the pet rat her brother had owned when she was a little girl. She remembered the day it had escaped its cage and she’d opened the breadbox the next morning to make toast and found it looking up at her, nibbling away, looking entirely too pleased with itself. That’s exactly the expression Yoki currently wore.
“Lyra, my dear,” He purred, dabbing at his mouth with his napkin. “I don’t suppose I’ve ever… thanked you enough for all your hard work in my services?”
She made herself smile. After all, it was in her best interest to stay as close to the military as she could, even if the only military she could cozy up to in this podunk town was this prissy, ratty little man. It was the only way she’d ever become a state alchemist.
“No, Lieutenant,” she purred, making her voice as silky-oily-honey-sweet as she could manage, “but I assure you, it’s implicit.”
“Well,” he said, rising and strolling to her end of the table. He took her hand and kissed it. She hid her wince behind a smile. “I’d like to make it explicit, then. You are a rare treasure, my darling Lyra. I don’t know what I’d do without you.”
“It’s such an honor to hear your praise.” She rose, letting him twine his wiry arms around her neck. She even returned the embrace, and let herself be lead back to his disgustingly luxurious bedroom. It was only by keeping the image of the silver pocketwatch she’d one day earn clearly in mind behind her closed eyes that she managed to endure the disgust at what followed.
Title: The Wrong Bowl
Pairing: Ed + Sieg/Armstrong/Envy/Gluttony
Rating: R
Request: Fromgreedy_lover: "Armstrong/Sig/Envy/Gluutony. Crossdressing, cosplay.
Edward was beginning to suspect he’d maybe drunk from the wrong punch bowl.
He hadn’t wanted to come to the military ball in the first place; after all, he hated stuffy formal affairs, and he always felt stupid dressed up in masquerade costumes. But Al had seemed excited about it, so he’d allowed himself to be forced into a costume and brought to the event. He’d spent most of it sulking in the corner, watching everyone else have fun and hating them for it, and sipping at a greenish-colored punch from a large bowl on a nearby refreshment table. And he was rapidly regretting it.
He’d gotten hot, so hot that he’s shed the outer coat of his vampire costume and undid the buttons of his collar. Then the room had begun to spin and tilt alarmingly. Then he’d stood up to go find himself a glass of water and he’d gone crashing to the floor.
He’d dodged the laughter and the few scattered attempts to help him back to his feet and gone and propped himself up in a chair near the door until Al reappeared from the midst of the festivities and they could go home.
He was watching the dancing in the center of the room, his eyes drifting in an out of focus. There was a group of four people he wasn’t familiar with dancing together in a large huddle. One was dressed in a large, plush bear costume. Another was bare-chested, with pink-stoned jewelry in vaguely Xingian patterns draped over him. The third seemed to be some sort of tree, and the final—a short, squat man—was all in black, perhaps indicating some sort of stealthy hero.
Ed watched them, spinning and dancing in each others arms, falling over themselves and laughing amidst the hoots and cat-calls from their fellow military men.
Suddenly, Ed squinted. Could it be…? Was that Sieg in the bear costume? No, no… it couldn’t be… but it sure as hell looked like him…
Am I hallucinating now? Ed tried shaking his head to clear it, only succeeding in scrambling his brains further. When his vision finally cleared, it still looked like Sieg… only now it seemed Armstrong was the man in the sparkly Xingian jewelry.
Alcohol isn’t supposed to make you hallucinate… I must be losing my mind…
He cupped his hands around his eyes, peering more carefully into the group. Only to realize that Sieg and Armstrong were in fact in the company of Envy and Gluttony. The four of them danced together, writhing in a sweaty pile. Envy transformed into a man in a zombie costume and then back again. Gluttony nibbled on Sieg’s beard. Armstrong flexed and several nearby ladies swooned.
I really am losing my mind!
The dancing group had become some kind of bizarre and nauseating clusterfuck. It appeared several of the military brass and a couple of other homunculi were joining into the fray.
Ed groaned, and with the last of his energy, squeezed his eyes closed as tightly as they could go. He wondered if he could transmute a bucket out of the ballroom floor so he could vomit into it.
“Holy shit,” he heard. Some vaguely familiar voice prodding somewhere in the back of his tortured head. “Who the hell let the kid drink the absinthe punch?”
Title: Nowhere to Run
Pairing: Ed/Dragon!Envy
Rating: NC-17
Request: Fromspace_mutt: "Ed/Dragon!Envy."
Ed came to on the ground before the gate. His head spun and his limbs shook, and when he tried to stand he toppled forward. His automail limbs had vanished. He tried once more to pull himself upward, but found he couldn’t move. He could only lie there, gazing at the empty blackness surrounding him, the terrifying emptiness broken only by the gate itself. He knew he should crawl toward it, accept his fate, but the transmutation had left him so weak…
There was no way of knowing how much time had gone by, or knowing whether he’d passed out or simply gone to sleep. Either way, he still felt almost drugged with his exhaustion. He didn’t even bother to open his eyes. There was nothing here but the gate, and it would still be there after he’d rested another moment—
When suddenly an icy cold, wet, and scratchy sensation shot up his leg.
If he’d had the energy he would’ve screamed, but all he managed was a weak gasp. The sensation rose upward, enveloping his leg and glancing across the aching stump of his missing one.
“Nowhere to run,” a thick, slimy whisper purred in an inhuman register that threatened his very sanity. The wet, cold thing moved upwards, across his hips. There was a flash of pain at his stomach and he felt blood trickling down. He’d been bitten. Bitten by huge teeth that had ripped the few shreds of his clothing that had survived the transmutation away and left him shivering and naked.
“Wha…” Ed croaked, his throat giving out with exhaustion before he’d even finished the word.
“Nowhere to run,” the insane voice repeated, and Ed felt the slimy cold thing roughly wrap itself around his penis. He hissed in pain.
“No…” he got out, and suddenly screamed as what felt like railroad spikes pierced his hand, pinning him to the ground.
“Nowhere…” the voice hissed, and Ed felt a sharp graze of teeth against his thigh.
“No,” he gasped, “no, stop—” and forced his eyes open.
As a young child, Ed had once seen an old print of an oil painting in one of his father’s books. It had been some old half-remembered demon from some long-neglected religion, but the image had frightened him so badly that Hoenheim, at Ed’s mother’s insistence, had burned the book.
The face now looking back at him and that old, forgotten horror of a painting were a spot-on match.
Title: Perfect Sin
Pairing: Father + Lust/Greed/Envy/Sloth/Wrath/Pride/Gluttony (manga!verse)
Rating: NC-17
Request: Fromsecretfreaky: "The sins in a sex chain of sorts. Gluttony gets to eat the others."
Father was seated in his central throne, smiling down at his gathered children. It was so rare to see them all together, not even trying to kill each other for a rare moment, and it warmed his heart. And parts beyond.
“Lust,” he instructed, pointing to the middle of the chamber, and she smiled and nodded, carefully removing her dress and moving to stand before him, absolutely bare and absolutely stunning. Just the sight of her alone was enough to stir his blood.
“And now, Greed, you go join her.”
Greed smirked. “Sure thing, Pops.” Father’s smile widened. It was so rare for Greed to obey anything… but of course, how could he refuse? He was greedy, after all, and he was about to get everything.
Greed folded against Lust, kissing her deeply and letting her return it, snaking a hand between them to cut away the fastening of his expensive leather pants with a single flick of her ultimate lance. He growled at that, and pressed forward, entering her roughly, making her cry out.
“Envy,” Father instructed, pointing to Lust’s back.
“You want me to keep this form?” Envy asked, looking down at his black clothing and long green hair. “Or would you like something a little kinkier?”
“That one is fine for now, my child.” Father smiled further. “But male, if you please.”
“Of course.” Envy stood behind his sister, and she cried out when he forced his way into her asshole. She shook, pinned between the two, and moaned in pleasure.
“Beautiful,” Father whispered, sliding a hand under his robe to toy with his hardening cock. It was so rare for anything to excite him anymore, but this was one action that never failed to heat his blood. “Sloth?”
“…So… tiresome…” the large homunculus grumped from his corner, but he skulked toward his siblings with no additional prompting.
“We’ll soon have you feeling energetic,” Father assured. “Behind Envy, please.”
Envy whimpered a bit at that, but made no objections as Sloth lumbered behind him and pushed himself in. Envy shuddered a bit, and Lust quaked at the sensation, crying out her first climax of the night. Father laughed.
“Good… and Wrath, behind Greed.”
Wrath smiled and nodded, reaching down to unbutton the clips at the front of his formal military uniform. He wrapped an arm around Greed’s neck, making Greed sputter and choke and put up his shield around his neck. Wrath laughed, sliding his fingers into Greed and then shoving forward with his cock, enjoying the other’s whines of pleasure-pain. Father moaned softly, increasing the speed of his hand.
“Pride… my darling Pride… you can have your pick.”
The small homunculus chuckled, and went to stand behind his so-called “father.” Everyone laughed briefly at the irony, none louder than Wrath himself, and Pride pressed forward, sending his coils of shadow around to tease his brothers and sister.
“What about me?” Came Gluttony’s plaintive mewl from the corner.
“Behind Sloth, Gluttony, darling.” Father’s voice was harsh, his climax nearing. In front of him, Lust moaned her second orgasm of the night.
“Can I eat him?” Gluttony asked, and Father smiled indulgence.
“You can nibble at his feet and legs.” Gluttony squealed with joy, thrusting a hand down the front of his pants as he began to gnaw on his brother’s feet.
“So perfect…” Father gasped, and lost himself in the beauty of his children as he came into his hand.
Title: Picking Up Strays
Pairing: Alphons Heiderich/Wrath
Rating: G
Request: Frominuyashaohime: "Young!Alfons Heiderich x Wrath - "Prompt: Like Children. No shota."
Alphons was walking home, slowly to avoid aggravating his breathing. He’d been born with rather weak lungs, and that day he’d been having such strong coughing fits that the teacher had sent him home, claiming he was distracting her from teaching. He wasn’t looking forward to being home for several reasons. For one, today was the day the upperclassmen got lessons in physics while his own class was supposed to be studying their reading, and Alphons loved to listen in. For another, he knew his mother would worry about him. She’d hoped his lungs would get better as he got older, but they only seemed to get worse.
He was about halfway home when he came upon a group of knocked-over garbage cans. Clicking his tongue at the mess, he picked his way over the scattered refuse, until a slight noise caught his attention. He frowned, and paused to listen. Sure enough, the sound came again: a harsh whimper, and the rustle of papers. Carefully he peered behind one of the fallen cans, and saw a bundle of dark hair.
A dog? He wondered, and crept a bit closer. All at once, the bundle sat bolt upright, revealing bared teeth and strange violet eyes, but a distinctly human face.
A boy. Alphons stared, unsure what to do. The boy was obviously even younger than he, bony and hungry looking, shivering in short pants. It was November, much too cold for such attire.
“Guten tag,” Alphons said, slowly and deliberately, extending his hand. The boy flinched. “What are you doing here? Are you lost?”
“I… I don’t know,” the boy whimpered, shying away from Alphons’ reach. “I came out of… out of that place.”
“What place?” But the boy only shut his eyes and shook his head; either he didn’t know or he didn’t want to speak of it. Well, no matter.
“Are you hungry?” He asked, and the boy’s peculiar eyes widened as he nodded so violently his head resembled a marionette in the hands of a mad puppeteer. Alphons laughed softly. “No need to strain your neck, just—” he broke of for a moment, stifling a cough, “just come with me. My mother can spare a meal for one more.”
There was a long moment of hesitation, the boy seeming torn between his nest of newspapers behind the garbage can and the promise of food. Then, all at once, he sprang forward, and entwined Alphons’ extended fingers with his own.
Keep 'em coming, guys. This meme never expires. :)
Characters: Any and all FMA characters
Rating: NC-17
Warning: Not work or brain safe. Bizarre pairings and even more bizarre actions.
This is an ongoing game based on this meme:
Name three fics you think I will never, ever, ever write. In return, I will attempt to write a snippet of one of them.
It's basically turned into:
Give me a bizarre FMA prompt that I would never, ever, ever write, and I will write it into a short fic for you.
Feel free, after you've been scarred by the requests so far, to leave me another one to write. I'll be glad to do it. :) Try and scar me, come on! I dare you!
Title: Best Served Hot
Pairing: Gluttony/Envy
Rating: NC-17
Request: From
miyabi121190: "Gluttony/Envy and a juicy, gory description of Gluttony eating him afterwards."Envy never would've expected it of the normally docile homunculus; all he ever did was follow Lust around like a fucking puppy, who would've ever thought he was capable of this?
Envy was pinned under the other's mass, and try as he might, shift as he did to and from every form he could think of- from a man he'd seen on the street, to the Fullmetal pipsqueak, to the face of the Master, and even finally to Lust herself- nothing could defer him, or ease the pain of the penetration. Gluttony was locked into him.
"You shouldn't have done it," Gluttony growled, "you shouldn't have hurt my Lust!"
"Stop it, you monster! I never touched your precious Lust! Get off me!"
"You hurt Lust," he growled, not fooled, and Envy screamed, a high, blood-curdling noise of complete terror as Gluttony lowered his head. There was a blinding flash of pain, a spurt of stone fluid, and Envy's arm disappeared down the raging homunculus's massive gullet.
Title: Private Threats
Pairing: Archer/Havoc
Rating: PG-13
Request: From
freaky_zero: "Archer/Jean"The Lieutenant Colonel's skin was cold against Jean's cheek. His eyes, when he forced Jean's head to turn at meet them, were even colder. He smiled, and Jean's stomach twisted.
"That was an order, Lieutenant Havoc."
"Fuck your order," Jean growled, slapping Archer's hand away. "I won't tell you any-"
Archer caught his hand, squeezing it in his own. "On the contrary, Havoc," he snapped. "You can and you will. I know you've been observing Mustang for the brass. I want everything you have on him. Everything you left out of your little... report. And I want it now."
"And what if I refuse?"
"I'll have your rank, Private Havoc," he grinned, sliding his hand down to the rank insignia on his shoulder and ripped it away.
"I don't care," Jean said, eyes narrowed. Mustang wouldn't let Archer demote him, anyway, he still held some sway with the brass, and he could tell Archer knew it. But the Lieutenant Colonel only smirked. He pressed a finger to Havoc's shoulder and slowly worked it downward.
"Very well. Then maybe I'll have something a bit more... precious. Something you wouldn't want to go crying to your Colonel about."
"What the hell do you mean?" But his stomach sank. He was pretty sure he knew.
Title: Accident
Pairing: Roy/Havoc
Rating: PG-13
Request: From
anat_astarte: "Roy/Jean - an accident with glue.""Sir?"
Mustang groaned. It was past midnight after a particularly exhausting day; he'd been just about to climb into bed. He certainly wasn't in the mood to take calls from lower ranking officers.
"Ask me about it tomorrow, Havoc," Mustang grumbled, and was about to slam the phone down when the sound of his Lieutenant's voice stopped him.
"No! Wait, Sir! Please!" Havoc sounded desperate, panicked, almost on the verge of tears. Mustang stopped, concerned.
"Lieutenant? Are you all right?"
"I... I have a problem." His voice was pitiful. "I need help."
"Well? Spit it out, Havoc."
There was a long pause. "I... I can't say."
Mustang sighed, exasperated. He only had so much sympathy to go around, and as his clock's hands neared one AM, it was stretched even thinner than usual. "Then talk to me about it later."
"No, I need help! Please... just... just come over and help me? Please, Sir, I'm begging you..."
Mustang sighed. No, he didn't want to help. He wanted to sleep. But Havoc's voice was getting higher and more pathetic with every word, and damn if it wasn't starting to be almost heart-wrenching.
"Fine," he sighed. "I'll be there in ten minutes."
Ten minutes later, the door to Havoc's apartment opened just the slightest crack. One of his Lieutenant's blue eyes peeked out at him.
"Here I am," Roy grumbled. "Now, what is it that couldn't wait until a halfway decent hour?"
The door didn't move. Havoc's eye looked to the left.
"Well?" Roy's patience was at its end. "Are you even going to let me in, or shall I stand in the hallway for a few hours? Will that solve your problem?"
"Promise you won't laugh," Havoc whispered. Roy sighed.
"I won't laugh. Let me in, Havoc, it's freezing out here."
The eye disappeared and slowly the door swung open. Roy stomped inside, grumbling, and stood in the alcove, waiting for Havoc to step out from behind the door and close it. But he didn't. He only stood there, clutching the door with the fingers of one hand, only his head poking out from behind it.
"I'm getting awfully sick of this, Lieutenant," Roy warned. "Come out from behind the door or I'm going back out of it."
Havoc's face went an alarming shade of red, but he gave a slow nod, and slid the door closed.
Mustang's eyes widened. His Lieutenant stood before him, stark naked, with one hand dangling dejectedly by his side. The other hand didn't move from a rather compromising location on a rather specific portion of his anatomy. And, by the look of things, it didn't look like it was going to move.
"I reached for the wrong bottle," Havoc moaned, eyes clenching shut in humiliation.
And, since he'd promised, Roy bit his lips hard enough to draw blood in an effort not to burst into laughter.
Title: Christmas Ham
Pairing: Barry the Chopper/Gluttony
Rating: NC-17
Request: From
seaweed_fma: "Barry the Chopper x Gluttony""You have an exquisite body," the skinny man with the big shiny knife cooed, in a voice like the one his Lust used when she was trying to make a man do whatever it was she wanted. Gluttony put a thick finger into his mouth and stared quizzically up at him.
"I do?"
"Yes, you do." The man smiled. "Nice and plump, just like a juicy Christmas ham!"
Gluttony's brow furrowed. He wasn't sure what a "Christmas ham" was. He wished Lust were there to explain it to him. "Really?"
"Yes. Yes, indeed. In fact," he lowered the big, shiny knife to Gluttony's pudgy gut. "I think I'll chop it up!"
Before Gluttony could say anything, the big, shiny knife swung forward, slicing cleanly though his torso, into his bowels, and through his spine. Stone fluid spurted in a macabre geyser, staining the sidewalk and the brick wall of the ally vivid crimson. Again and again the knife hacked, and Gluttony lay, the two halves of his body connected by a strand of intestine. He took the finger out of his mouth and sighed.
He picked up his lower half and ate it. He grimaced.
"That didn't taste very good."
The skinny man's jaw dropped and he yowled in confused anger. "What?! How are you alive!? I chopped you right in half! You can't be-"
Gluttony's lower half was regenerating below him, with a stingy, tickly feeling. It made him hungry. Once his legs had come back, he took a slow step toward the now panicked man and smiled.
"I bet you taste much better!"
When his Lust returned from the cigarette man's bedroom a few minutes later, Gluttony was picking his teeth with the big, shiny knife. He smiled, glad to have her back. She returned it.
"Did you find something to eat, Gluttony?" She purred, patting his head. He grinned and nodded.
Title: I Can Feel You
Pairing: Elricest
Rating: Hard R
Request: From
codename_windy: "Elricest, soon after AL gets his body back (for 5 year age difference), Ed seme, s&m, pr0n." (Sorry I didn't get much of the s&m in there. :( I tried.)Edward squinted through the final blaze of light from the transmutation, trying to watch through the blinding flash as he held his breath, his pulse drumming in his ears.
Please let it work, please let it work, please let it work…
And just when he couldn’t hold his breath a second longer and flashes of red were going up behind his eyes, the light faded, leaving the room dark, the clouds of dust drifting down and settling, the elaborate circle he’d traced on the floor dim and oddly anticlimactic…
…But with a small, pale shape shivering in its center.
“A…Al?” The breath he’d been holding exploded out of him in a shaky whisper.
“…Brother?” The word came out in an achy croak of vocal chords too long neglected that almost masked the sweet, high voice, but Ed didn’t care. He sobbed, vaulting forward to wrap his arms around his little brother.
“Oh, Al—“ He gasped, faulting for some kind of word that would express everything he felt, but no such word existed, so he simply fell to looking at him, cradling him as gently as he could with his metal arm, running his flesh fingers through the soft hair, over his skin, down the bumps of his spine.
“Al… Al, you’re here…” It had been so long, but he hadn’t forgotten even an inch. Still hesitant, unable after so long and so many false hopes to believe even what was right before his eyes, he stroked harder. “Al… can… can you feel me, Al?”
“Brother… your fingers… they’re warm.” Smiling at him, the smile he’d never realized he’d cherished until it was gone, and Ed closed his mouth over Al’s, kissing him deeply.
Perfect. He’s here and he’s perfect…
He lay his brother down gently on the floor, trying to cover him, warm him with his own body, as he kissed him. He could feel himself hardening at the stimulation and thought dimly that he should be ashamed about it, but this was Al, and nothing with Al could ever be wrong or dirty.
He pulled away, running his fingers down his brother’s chest, his own teary smile reflected in his brother’s huge brown eyes.
“Al?”
“I can feel you, Brother,” he whispered, “I can feel you… I’ve wanted to feel you for so long…”
Ed grinned, his tears dotting Al’s chest as he stroked him, rubbing harder at the milky skin, scratching at it, watching red lines spring up in the wake of his fingers. He knew he shouldn’t do that, he should be gentle, Al was too delicate… but he couldn’t stop, desperate as he was after all this time to make sure Al was really his once more. He stroked, kissed, and licked his way over the thin body beneath him, watched pink flush banish the milky paleness, and finally drew back long enough to shed his own clothing, finally pulling their bare bodies together.
Skin like my skin… blood like my blood…
“Al? You can feel me? You can really feel me?”
His arms twined around Ed’s neck and once again they kissed.
“I feel you, Brother. I feel you…”
Title: Lesson Plan
Pairing: Izumi/Edward
Rating: R
Request: From
warwinds_mew: "Izumi/Edward. Sieg went on a trip, took Alphonse with him. Sensei drank more than is good for one and teaches Ed how to make ladies happy."Ed was, quite frankly, terrified. He’d seen a lot of horrifying things in his life, watched his mother die of the plague, seen his best friend cry over her murdered parents, seen hundreds of brutally maimed soldiers shipped home from the war in the East, almost died of starvation marooned on an island with his brother… but all of that paled in comparison to this.
“Aren’t you listening to me? Pay attention when I’m talking to you!” Pain flared at his jaw; one thing was certain, his teacher’s fist certainly wasn’t affected by alcohol, even if her rationality seemed to have taken quite a hit.
“I’m listening, I’m listening!” He assured, trying to back further away into the corner of the bed.
“You better listen. I’m sure your mom never got around to this, and you don’t have any older sisters to tell you this stuff, if you don’t know you’ll end up being hopeless with women and never find a wife. Now,” she took his flesh hand and brought it down to the front of her dress. Ed squirmed. “Breasts. I’m sure you’ve put in a good deal of thought about them, so it’s as good a place as any to start. I’m sure your first instinct is just to squeeze the hell out of them, but it’s important to be gentle.” She rolled his fingers back and forth. “Stroke, pay particular attention to the nipples, they’re some of the most nerve-rich areas on the female body—”
Ed wondered briefly if telling his teacher he was gay might be enough to defer her. He decided it probably wouldn’t, since it was because he’d been caught… er… examining a few books that definitely hadn’t been on the alchemy curriculum Izumi had been instructing them in. He wished with all his heart and soul Al hadn’t picked that day of all days to accompany Sieg on a trip to the knife sharpener. If Al had been there he never would’ve—
“Pay attention!” Her smack sent his brain spiraling in his head. “Now, onto intercourse. I know you know all about it clinically, but there’s a lot more to it than the medical side of things. When you’re making love to a woman—”
Ed felt he couldn’t die soon enough.
Title: Sculpted Perfection
Pairing: Sieg/Armstrong
Rating: PG
Request: From
monaki: "Sieg/Armstrong" It was quite a pity, Armstrong often reflected, that his fellow countrymen seemed so blind to the inexplicable beauty of a well-muscled body.
Surely Armstrong loved his country—did not his body pulse and swell with his devotion to its picturesque land, its powerful history, its diligent and illustrious citizens?—and would have gladly laid down his life in its service in a second, asking nothing in return…but there was the odd moment when he wished his fellow countrymen would meet his glorious physique with something other than wide-eyed speechlessness.
Keeping that in mind, words could not express the joy that rippled through Armstrong’s marvelously sculpted body on his first meeting with the butcher from Dublith. Here, here was a man who understood the beauty of a strong body, who could relish its artistic motions and revel in its glorious sculpted perfection! He alone could relate to the toilsome hours spent to produce the unequaled splendor of a muscular body!
When he flexed his beautiful, powerful arms, Armstrong read every ripple, understood every pulse of blood. He saw the uderstanding in the butcher’s eyes when he countered with a single ripple of his great thighs. Here at last was someone he could truly speak with, someone at last on the same level as the glorious Armstrongs themselves!
Title: A Clear Head
Pairing: Chimera!Tucker/Martel/Greed
Rating: NC-17
Request: From
space_mutt: "Chimera!Tucker/Martel/Greed" Shou Tucker knew he was insane. He’d known if for years now, even before he’d done what he’d done to his wife and daughter. He simply didn’t let the knowledge affect him.
It was simply the strain of his intelligence. He’d never quite had the strength to deal with the kid of power his mind was capable of, and he suspected it was so for every alchemist, to a degree. He’d seen it flickering in the eyes of his superiors, and those of the would-be State Alchemists that had come and gone over the years. It was too great a power not to exploit, and in the end, it had driven him mad.
He’d once escaped from his madness through his wife, letting the crash of climax momentarily drive the hundreds on thousands of complex equations from his tortured skull, but of course, if the end he’d lost that particular form of release.
Maybe that’s what had finally pushed him this far.
He hadn’t even been sure this new body was functional in that way. He couldn’t see his genitals, what with the awkward placement of his head, and it had only been once he’d caught a glimpse of the peculiar female chimera that he’d even realized he was still capable of feeling lust. She’d come with the homunculus who wanted his help, but he hadn’t been able to concentrate on his words, his eyes locked on her quick, lithe body.
“Tell you what,” the homunculus laughed, tracing a line up his chin, over his neck, down his chest and circling his nipple. “I can tell you’re a man who knows what he wants. Say you’ll help me out and I’ll get Martel here to help you out.”
“Greed!” She gasped, voice appalled, but he shushed her with a finger on her lips, sliding his arms around her. He stroked her ass through her baggy clothes and Tucker felt a tremor race up his spine.
“You know I’m greedy,” he purred into her ear. “I wouldn’t give you up. Just think of it as a spoonful of medicine… a quick bad taste and then everything’ll be much better for all of us, hmm?”
She grimaced, but lowered herself, sliding under Tucker’s strange body. He felt fingers in his fur, then on his penis, and then quick licks and flutters of an oddly serpentine tongue. He moaned.
The homunculus grinned, resuming his teasing of Tucker’s nipples as she worked below him. “Shame you had to get yourself this way,” he laughed, amused at the oncoming climax showing itself on the alchemist’s face. “You might’ve been halfway decent to look at once upon a time.”
The chimera below him sucked hard just as the homunculus scratched into his chest, hard enough to draw beads of blood, and the twist of sensations in his stomach sent him over the edge. When he came to himself, the lithe little female chimera was standing, spitting onto the dingy concrete floor. The homunculus laughed.
“So, then, Mr. Tucker. We have a deal?”
His mind clear for the first time in months, Tucker smiled. “Yes. We do.”
Title: Loyalty of the Highest Caliber
Pairing: Black Hayate/Charlie the Dog (Roy and Jean's pet from
galuxkitty and my anime AU)Rating: PG (for nuzzling)
Request: From
mercy_slays: Black Hayate/Charlie the dog, the masters finding out.Your masters certainly are silly, Hayate sniffed, turning away from Charlie to sniff at a small furry bug inching its way over the grass.
Charlie gave a short, defensive bark. They are not! They’re really great! Light-furred master gives me nice things to eat and belly scratches all the time, and dark-furred master… well, dark-furred master can be scary, but he never smells like he really means it, and when there aren’t any other humans around, he’s very friendly!
Hayate yawned, abandoning the bug to sniff at the fence post. Calm down, pup. That’s not what I meant.
Well, what did you mean, then? Charlie gave a grudging sniff to the post, following Hayate’s path around the confines of the yard.
They’re both males, idiot. They’ll never make puppies that way.
Annoyed at the older dog’s continued insults toward his beloved masters, Charlie bristled and yipped. So what? Your mistress didn’t even bring a mate! Who are you to talk about puppies?
Hayate scoffed. It still seems silly to me.
Charlie growled, and butted his head forward, knocking the smaller dog to the ground. Hayate yipped, but Charlie held him pinned with his huge yellow paws. You shut up!
Hayate sneezed; he’d scattered up dust when he fell. Get off me, pup. I wasn’t done smelling your fence.
Charlie bristled, deep in thought. He couldn’t stand to see his masters put down, especially by a strange dog who didn’t know what good masters they actually were. He wanted to bite, but he wasn’t allowed; light-furred master would be mad and sad if Charlie bit his friend’s dog, and whenever he accidentally made light-furred master mad and sad, Charlie couldn’t stop whimpering for hours. Besides, the other dog didn’t really smell mean enough to deserve a bite. He obviously just didn’t understand.
At that thought, Charlie’s tail began to wag. He knew exactly what to do.
They aren’t silly. I’ll show you! And he began to nuzzle the other dog’s neck, licking and sniffing.
Hayate barked in surprise. What do you think you’re doing!? Crazy pup, get off me!
Charlie yipped, nuzzling the other dog closer. He’d show him what his masters did wasn’t strange, he’d show him it was just—
“What the fucking hell is that dog doing now, Havoc?”
“Come on, Roy, don’t… oh, my god. Charlie! What the hell are you doing?! Get off! Damnit, Roy, I told you we should’ve put him out in the yard that time we were messing around on the couch—”
“You’re the one who let him inside in the first place!”
Charlie couldn’t understand his master’s words, but he did understand when light-furred master suddenly seized his collar and pulled him away. His eyes widened in confusion; he’d only been defending them!
“Fuery was right. I don’t think either of you are qualified to own a pet.” And Hayate, still on the ground, had to wag his tail despite his current indignity. After all, he’d rarely heard his mistress laugh so loud.
Title: Choke
Pairing: Armstrong/Mustang
Rating: PG
Request: From
sevlow: "Mustang/Armstrong - uke!Roy" Mustang had been halfway through the process of swallowing a mouthful of his Brandy Alexander when what felt like a full-sized cannonball clapped him on the back. Even the combined forces of Roy’s esophagus and gravity were no match for it, and the sip of sweetened liquor flew violently upward again, streaming out of his mouth and nose, burning like fire and making a horrible mess of the front of his uniform.
Armstrong seemed to take no notice of the Colonel’s predicament, barreling on with his speech.
“Colonel Mustang, it saddens my heart to see you in such a miserable state. I’m sure whatever is troubling you must weigh heavily on your soul for you to be drinking alone like this. Please, if I can be of service in any way, don’t hesitate to say so. As I’m sure you know, Sir, sometimes a friendly ear can do wonders for a heavy heart.”
Mustang would’ve replied, but the combination of brandy, crème de cacao, and heavy cream currently dribbling through his sinuses made speech impossible. The best he managed was a choked gasp. The burning sensation made his eyes water, and, unfortunately for Mustang, Armstrong looked over his shoulder long enough to see the moisture gleaming in the corner of his eye.
Armstrong’s grip on Mustang’s shoulders tightened, and his own tears began to stream down his face. “My dear old friend, I can’t imagine what could pain you so deeply. Please, allow me to take you home. There are several foolproof methods for cheering distraught friends I know of that have been passed down the Armstrong line for generations. Stimulating conversation, deep massage, loving embraces, exercises in dynamic tension… please, you must allow me to help you, Colonel!”
Before Mustang could even attempt to speak and decline the invitation, he found himself being roughly lifted from his barstool, kissed sloppily on both cheeks, and carried out the door and toward Armstrong’s apartment.
He moaned to himself, wondering what Havoc was going to think when he got back from the bathroom and found out his date for the evening had been stolen again… literally.
Title: Mirror, Mirror
Pairing: Pride!Ed/Fem!Ed
Rating: PG-13
Request: From
eyesofthenight: "Pride!Ed/Fem!Ed"He bristled at the sight of her, looking so much like him, a pale human imitation that dared tread on his own perfection. He approached her, meaning to taunt her for it, make her somehow pay.
“Get away from here!” Her voice was higher than his, but kept the same timbre. He smiled. Her agitation at the mere sight of him could make things interesting.
“No.” He smiled, pressing against her, wrapping his arms around her chest. The softness of her breasts dueled with the hard metal at her shoulder, and he felt the flesh of his arms being ground between the gears of the automail.
“Let go of me!” She struggled, trying to bring her hands together and transmute, but his grip was too strong.
“You hate that I look like you,” he whispered, lips brushing the shell of her ear. She screamed, turned, and bit into his neck in an effort to make him release her. Stone fluid dribbled into her mouth and she gagged, but he wasn’t deferred. “I hate it, too. I hate that you look like me, because you’ll never be as good as me. And don’t you forget it.”
She brought her metal knee up, grinding it into his crotch, seeming to think he’d be deferred by pain. But she’d forgotten he shared her stubbornness just as sure as he shared her face, and it would take more than a bit of hurt to make him yield.
“I’ll fucking kill you!” She yelled, before he hid her foul mouth with a brutal kiss. When he pulled back, her lips and teeth were dripping blood.
“Baby,” he purred, “I’m afraid you can’t.”
Title: Sweet
Pairing: Original!Greed/Ed
Rating: PG-13
Request: From
greedy_lover: "Original!Greed/Ed - marshmallow." “How is this equivalent exchange for anything?” Ed growled, turning his mouth away from the homunculus’s outstretched fingers.
“I told you what I wanted, kid. I don’t have to say why. That wasn’t part of the deal.” Greed smiled, baring those needle-sharp teeth. He wrapped his arm tighter around Ed’s shoulders, drawing him nearer. “If I were you, I’d count yourself lucky this is all I wanted. Now eat up.”
The fingers were back, waving the fluffy white square before Ed’s lips. He sighed and opened his mouth, feeling for all the world like a baby bird, and let the homunculus slide the marshmallow in.
Greed moaned softly when Ed’s lips closed over his fingertips, taking both the confection and the film of powdered sugar it had left away from his fingers. “That’s good. That’s real good.”
“I’m getting really damn sick of these things,” Ed grumbled as he chewed, trying to force the saccharine morsel down his throat. His mouth already felt thick and slimy with too much sugar.
“That’s too bad, isn’t it? You’ve got half a plate left to go…” Greed took another marshmallow from the tray and squeezed it flat, watching it reinflate itself when he released his grip.
“They’re probably poisoned,” Ed mumbled, opening his mouth to take it.
“I wouldn’t do a thing like that. Watch.” He rolled Ed to face him, snatched the marshmallow back, and licked it. “See?” He placed the slightly dampened candy to Ed’s lips, where it met a cry of disgust from the young alchemist.
“That’s disgusting! I’m not eating that one!”
“Probably should have thought of that before you accused me,” Greed countered, pressing it between Ed’s stubborn lips and laughing at his grimace. “You’d think you’d never shared a snack before, kid…”
“Shut up. And go faster, would you? This is taking forever.”
“Better watch it. Remember, time’s on my side here. You made your deal; you let me feed you a plate of marshmallows, I let you take your little brother and go home. So open up, little Edward,” he grinned, pulling him closer, chuckling at his outraged babbling and brushing another marshmallow against his lips. “It’s time to pay your price.”
Title: An Old Lady's Musings
Pairing: Pinako/Armstrong
Rating: PG
Request: From
numi_nami: "Pinako/Armstrong. Can it be done?" Pinako was sitting in the large, comfortable chair by the window, puffing her pipe and letting her aching fingers rest after a long day tinkering with Ed’s automail leg. Across from her, taking up most of the sofa, Major Armstrong was resting after a long day of splitting firewood, mending their roof, putting up new fence rails, and whitewashing their front porch. She had, of course, tried to talk him out of doing all those things, but he’d been incredibly insistent. So now they rested together, with Ed asleep on the cot in the clinic, Al watching from the corner, and Winry napping at her workbench (even at Pinako’s urging, the girl had refused to give in and go to bed.)
Pinako was used to spending her evening resting in her chair, but she wasn’t used to having company. After all, she was an old woman now, and didn’t need as much sleep as her granddaughter did. Not that she minded, of course. But it was nice to have a little company.
Particularly company as strong and virile as the current company had proved to be. It had been twenty years since she’d seen her husband to his grave; having a man around again was a pleasant diversion. Just his presence was enough to bring her back to the days when she’d been a young woman, spending the evenings in her young husband’s arms.
They talked pleasantly—far more pleasantly than she’d expected, him being one of the State’s dogs—first about Ed and Al and whether or not they were keeping themselves out of too much trouble, then about his life—told in breathless superlatives that left her biting back giggles—and then finally her life, what it was like in Risembool now, what it had once been like, and all the places her life had taken her. By the end of the talk he’d somehow migrated across the room and was attending to her aching feet with an acupressure massage technique he assured her had been proved tried and true in the Armstrong line for generations.
When she finally did turn to go up to her own bed, she paused, momentarily entertaining the idea of asking him to join her. He was big, certainly, but he’d be gentle, and she was fairly sure he’d say yes if she asked. But she dismissed the thought quickly enough, with a slight giggle and a final draw from her pipe. She supposed she was too old to try such unlikely trysts anymore. Maybe if he’d caught her eye ten years ago…
“Something on your mind, dear lady?” He asked, kneeling—really kneeling—before her feet in a gallant display she was sure had been passed down to him from countless generations. She laughed, flicking the single blonde curl on his forehead.
“Just an old lady’s musings. Make yourself as comfortable as you can on the couch, young man. I’ll see you tomorrow for breakfast.”
Title: Affection
Pairing: Wrath/Al
Rating: PG
Request: From
bloody_winged: "Wrath/Al. Maybe something where Wrath looks at Ed like a big brother and Al get jealous." It had taken months after Ed’s return for him to even willingly look at the boy, and even longer before he’d concede to speaking to him. Al had been encouraging his brother to be kinder to the young homunculus, since the boy had nowhere to go, so he’d been glad when, almost a year later, he’d found Ed with a book open on his lap, explaining some minor chemical compositions to Wrath.
At least, he’d been glad right up until the point he’d seen the boy smile back at Ed, looking up at him with gratitude. Looking up at him like you looked at an older brother who’d just shown you something wonderful.
That look grated at Al’s mind the rest of the day, and after dinner he caught Wrath on his way out the door, on his way to wherever it was he went when he wasn’t hanging around their house like a lost puppy.
Al hadn’t known quite what he was going to say, but in the end he didn’t need to say anything. Once he’d seen the look in Al’s eyes, a strange, smug look had come into the boy’s eyes.
“Don’t like me messing around with your brother?”
Al was shocked. “No! No, it isn’t like that… I just—”
“You don’t want to share him. He’s yours, after all, isn’t that right?”
Al didn’t know how to counter that. His fists trembled slightly at his sides. Wrath laughed, sounding crueler than he had in months. Abruptly he seized Al, wrapping his arms around him and kissing his cheek. Al gasped, trying to squirm away from the grip, but he couldn't break free.
“Don’t worry,” Wrath purred. “He’s not the one I want.”
Title: Mental Imagery
Pairing: Yoki/Lyra
Rating: PG-13
Request: From
mir280: "Yoki with anyone." Yoki sat opposite her at the far end of the formal dining table, face set as always in its prim little pout, fiddling with the ends of his moustache. He smiled down at her, and she had a sudden vivid flashback of the pet rat her brother had owned when she was a little girl. She remembered the day it had escaped its cage and she’d opened the breadbox the next morning to make toast and found it looking up at her, nibbling away, looking entirely too pleased with itself. That’s exactly the expression Yoki currently wore.
“Lyra, my dear,” He purred, dabbing at his mouth with his napkin. “I don’t suppose I’ve ever… thanked you enough for all your hard work in my services?”
She made herself smile. After all, it was in her best interest to stay as close to the military as she could, even if the only military she could cozy up to in this podunk town was this prissy, ratty little man. It was the only way she’d ever become a state alchemist.
“No, Lieutenant,” she purred, making her voice as silky-oily-honey-sweet as she could manage, “but I assure you, it’s implicit.”
“Well,” he said, rising and strolling to her end of the table. He took her hand and kissed it. She hid her wince behind a smile. “I’d like to make it explicit, then. You are a rare treasure, my darling Lyra. I don’t know what I’d do without you.”
“It’s such an honor to hear your praise.” She rose, letting him twine his wiry arms around her neck. She even returned the embrace, and let herself be lead back to his disgustingly luxurious bedroom. It was only by keeping the image of the silver pocketwatch she’d one day earn clearly in mind behind her closed eyes that she managed to endure the disgust at what followed.
Title: The Wrong Bowl
Pairing: Ed + Sieg/Armstrong/Envy/Gluttony
Rating: R
Request: From
greedy_lover: "Armstrong/Sig/Envy/Gluutony. Crossdressing, cosplay.Edward was beginning to suspect he’d maybe drunk from the wrong punch bowl.
He hadn’t wanted to come to the military ball in the first place; after all, he hated stuffy formal affairs, and he always felt stupid dressed up in masquerade costumes. But Al had seemed excited about it, so he’d allowed himself to be forced into a costume and brought to the event. He’d spent most of it sulking in the corner, watching everyone else have fun and hating them for it, and sipping at a greenish-colored punch from a large bowl on a nearby refreshment table. And he was rapidly regretting it.
He’d gotten hot, so hot that he’s shed the outer coat of his vampire costume and undid the buttons of his collar. Then the room had begun to spin and tilt alarmingly. Then he’d stood up to go find himself a glass of water and he’d gone crashing to the floor.
He’d dodged the laughter and the few scattered attempts to help him back to his feet and gone and propped himself up in a chair near the door until Al reappeared from the midst of the festivities and they could go home.
He was watching the dancing in the center of the room, his eyes drifting in an out of focus. There was a group of four people he wasn’t familiar with dancing together in a large huddle. One was dressed in a large, plush bear costume. Another was bare-chested, with pink-stoned jewelry in vaguely Xingian patterns draped over him. The third seemed to be some sort of tree, and the final—a short, squat man—was all in black, perhaps indicating some sort of stealthy hero.
Ed watched them, spinning and dancing in each others arms, falling over themselves and laughing amidst the hoots and cat-calls from their fellow military men.
Suddenly, Ed squinted. Could it be…? Was that Sieg in the bear costume? No, no… it couldn’t be… but it sure as hell looked like him…
Am I hallucinating now? Ed tried shaking his head to clear it, only succeeding in scrambling his brains further. When his vision finally cleared, it still looked like Sieg… only now it seemed Armstrong was the man in the sparkly Xingian jewelry.
Alcohol isn’t supposed to make you hallucinate… I must be losing my mind…
He cupped his hands around his eyes, peering more carefully into the group. Only to realize that Sieg and Armstrong were in fact in the company of Envy and Gluttony. The four of them danced together, writhing in a sweaty pile. Envy transformed into a man in a zombie costume and then back again. Gluttony nibbled on Sieg’s beard. Armstrong flexed and several nearby ladies swooned.
I really am losing my mind!
The dancing group had become some kind of bizarre and nauseating clusterfuck. It appeared several of the military brass and a couple of other homunculi were joining into the fray.
Ed groaned, and with the last of his energy, squeezed his eyes closed as tightly as they could go. He wondered if he could transmute a bucket out of the ballroom floor so he could vomit into it.
“Holy shit,” he heard. Some vaguely familiar voice prodding somewhere in the back of his tortured head. “Who the hell let the kid drink the absinthe punch?”
Title: Nowhere to Run
Pairing: Ed/Dragon!Envy
Rating: NC-17
Request: From
space_mutt: "Ed/Dragon!Envy."Ed came to on the ground before the gate. His head spun and his limbs shook, and when he tried to stand he toppled forward. His automail limbs had vanished. He tried once more to pull himself upward, but found he couldn’t move. He could only lie there, gazing at the empty blackness surrounding him, the terrifying emptiness broken only by the gate itself. He knew he should crawl toward it, accept his fate, but the transmutation had left him so weak…
There was no way of knowing how much time had gone by, or knowing whether he’d passed out or simply gone to sleep. Either way, he still felt almost drugged with his exhaustion. He didn’t even bother to open his eyes. There was nothing here but the gate, and it would still be there after he’d rested another moment—
When suddenly an icy cold, wet, and scratchy sensation shot up his leg.
If he’d had the energy he would’ve screamed, but all he managed was a weak gasp. The sensation rose upward, enveloping his leg and glancing across the aching stump of his missing one.
“Nowhere to run,” a thick, slimy whisper purred in an inhuman register that threatened his very sanity. The wet, cold thing moved upwards, across his hips. There was a flash of pain at his stomach and he felt blood trickling down. He’d been bitten. Bitten by huge teeth that had ripped the few shreds of his clothing that had survived the transmutation away and left him shivering and naked.
“Wha…” Ed croaked, his throat giving out with exhaustion before he’d even finished the word.
“Nowhere to run,” the insane voice repeated, and Ed felt the slimy cold thing roughly wrap itself around his penis. He hissed in pain.
“No…” he got out, and suddenly screamed as what felt like railroad spikes pierced his hand, pinning him to the ground.
“Nowhere…” the voice hissed, and Ed felt a sharp graze of teeth against his thigh.
“No,” he gasped, “no, stop—” and forced his eyes open.
As a young child, Ed had once seen an old print of an oil painting in one of his father’s books. It had been some old half-remembered demon from some long-neglected religion, but the image had frightened him so badly that Hoenheim, at Ed’s mother’s insistence, had burned the book.
The face now looking back at him and that old, forgotten horror of a painting were a spot-on match.
Title: Perfect Sin
Pairing: Father + Lust/Greed/Envy/Sloth/Wrath/Pride/Gluttony (manga!verse)
Rating: NC-17
Request: From
secretfreaky: "The sins in a sex chain of sorts. Gluttony gets to eat the others." Father was seated in his central throne, smiling down at his gathered children. It was so rare to see them all together, not even trying to kill each other for a rare moment, and it warmed his heart. And parts beyond.
“Lust,” he instructed, pointing to the middle of the chamber, and she smiled and nodded, carefully removing her dress and moving to stand before him, absolutely bare and absolutely stunning. Just the sight of her alone was enough to stir his blood.
“And now, Greed, you go join her.”
Greed smirked. “Sure thing, Pops.” Father’s smile widened. It was so rare for Greed to obey anything… but of course, how could he refuse? He was greedy, after all, and he was about to get everything.
Greed folded against Lust, kissing her deeply and letting her return it, snaking a hand between them to cut away the fastening of his expensive leather pants with a single flick of her ultimate lance. He growled at that, and pressed forward, entering her roughly, making her cry out.
“Envy,” Father instructed, pointing to Lust’s back.
“You want me to keep this form?” Envy asked, looking down at his black clothing and long green hair. “Or would you like something a little kinkier?”
“That one is fine for now, my child.” Father smiled further. “But male, if you please.”
“Of course.” Envy stood behind his sister, and she cried out when he forced his way into her asshole. She shook, pinned between the two, and moaned in pleasure.
“Beautiful,” Father whispered, sliding a hand under his robe to toy with his hardening cock. It was so rare for anything to excite him anymore, but this was one action that never failed to heat his blood. “Sloth?”
“…So… tiresome…” the large homunculus grumped from his corner, but he skulked toward his siblings with no additional prompting.
“We’ll soon have you feeling energetic,” Father assured. “Behind Envy, please.”
Envy whimpered a bit at that, but made no objections as Sloth lumbered behind him and pushed himself in. Envy shuddered a bit, and Lust quaked at the sensation, crying out her first climax of the night. Father laughed.
“Good… and Wrath, behind Greed.”
Wrath smiled and nodded, reaching down to unbutton the clips at the front of his formal military uniform. He wrapped an arm around Greed’s neck, making Greed sputter and choke and put up his shield around his neck. Wrath laughed, sliding his fingers into Greed and then shoving forward with his cock, enjoying the other’s whines of pleasure-pain. Father moaned softly, increasing the speed of his hand.
“Pride… my darling Pride… you can have your pick.”
The small homunculus chuckled, and went to stand behind his so-called “father.” Everyone laughed briefly at the irony, none louder than Wrath himself, and Pride pressed forward, sending his coils of shadow around to tease his brothers and sister.
“What about me?” Came Gluttony’s plaintive mewl from the corner.
“Behind Sloth, Gluttony, darling.” Father’s voice was harsh, his climax nearing. In front of him, Lust moaned her second orgasm of the night.
“Can I eat him?” Gluttony asked, and Father smiled indulgence.
“You can nibble at his feet and legs.” Gluttony squealed with joy, thrusting a hand down the front of his pants as he began to gnaw on his brother’s feet.
“So perfect…” Father gasped, and lost himself in the beauty of his children as he came into his hand.
Title: Picking Up Strays
Pairing: Alphons Heiderich/Wrath
Rating: G
Request: From
inuyashaohime: "Young!Alfons Heiderich x Wrath - "Prompt: Like Children. No shota."Alphons was walking home, slowly to avoid aggravating his breathing. He’d been born with rather weak lungs, and that day he’d been having such strong coughing fits that the teacher had sent him home, claiming he was distracting her from teaching. He wasn’t looking forward to being home for several reasons. For one, today was the day the upperclassmen got lessons in physics while his own class was supposed to be studying their reading, and Alphons loved to listen in. For another, he knew his mother would worry about him. She’d hoped his lungs would get better as he got older, but they only seemed to get worse.
He was about halfway home when he came upon a group of knocked-over garbage cans. Clicking his tongue at the mess, he picked his way over the scattered refuse, until a slight noise caught his attention. He frowned, and paused to listen. Sure enough, the sound came again: a harsh whimper, and the rustle of papers. Carefully he peered behind one of the fallen cans, and saw a bundle of dark hair.
A dog? He wondered, and crept a bit closer. All at once, the bundle sat bolt upright, revealing bared teeth and strange violet eyes, but a distinctly human face.
A boy. Alphons stared, unsure what to do. The boy was obviously even younger than he, bony and hungry looking, shivering in short pants. It was November, much too cold for such attire.
“Guten tag,” Alphons said, slowly and deliberately, extending his hand. The boy flinched. “What are you doing here? Are you lost?”
“I… I don’t know,” the boy whimpered, shying away from Alphons’ reach. “I came out of… out of that place.”
“What place?” But the boy only shut his eyes and shook his head; either he didn’t know or he didn’t want to speak of it. Well, no matter.
“Are you hungry?” He asked, and the boy’s peculiar eyes widened as he nodded so violently his head resembled a marionette in the hands of a mad puppeteer. Alphons laughed softly. “No need to strain your neck, just—” he broke of for a moment, stifling a cough, “just come with me. My mother can spare a meal for one more.”
There was a long moment of hesitation, the boy seeming torn between his nest of newspapers behind the garbage can and the promise of food. Then, all at once, he sprang forward, and entwined Alphons’ extended fingers with his own.
Keep 'em coming, guys. This meme never expires. :)
