FMA FanFic Post 2
Title: To Follow
Series: FMA
Characters: Greed, Martel
Rating: PG
Notes: Never was quite finished, but I'm not sure what the original idea was anymore...
“Greed?”
“Yeah?”
“Go talk to her. It'll either fix everything, or really fuck it up.”
“Thanks for the advice, Dorchet. I'll remember to return it one of these days.”
When he looked back on it, he was probably an idiot for trying to take Dorchet's advice, and actually confronting Martel. It wasn't because he didn't want to talk to the woman (quite the contrary, really), it wasn't because she had a very sharp knife (the knife was a bit unnerving, even to him, with the way that she would just toss it around all the time), and it wasn't because he was afraid he was going to do something stupid (he knew he would do something stupid, so he didn't have to worry about it). The problem was just that Martel was someone who was very hard to talk to when it came to things like this, and he had no idea how he was going to word everything he wanted to say. But he wanted to get it all out there, and he wanted to figure out what the hell was going on between the two of them.
There was a whole lot of shit that went along with this matter, and Greed wasn't particularly fond of shit.
“Are you still hung up on that whole immortality thing?” were Martel's first words to him. Greed was a little taken aback by the bitterness in her voice when she said that. He shook it off, however, because that was simply how he acted.
“Of course.” He sat down on the couch beside her, slinging one arm over the back. “Like I said, I'm greedy. I want everything, including eternal life.”
Martel turned to him, her eyes narrowed. “Bullshit.”
“You think so?” He pulled out a pack of cigarettes, shaking one out. “You want one?”
“No.” She was incredibly icy today, and he also noticed that she was incredibly tense. He set the cigarette between his lips, then proceeded to light it. He saw her nose wrinkle slightly as smoke began to drift around them.
“You don't want me to go after the kid,” he said after a moment. “Am I right?”
Martel was silent, her eyes of the far wall. “I don't want you to do anything stupid,” she finally said, fingering the knife that she held in her hands. “But if it's what you really want to do...I'll follow you.”
Greed turned so that he could see her fully. She glanced up, and their eyes locked. “That's good. 'cause something stupid will probably happen.”
“Greed...”
He flicked ash off the end of the cigarette. “It's bound to happen. Envy knows about me, and most likely knows where I am. That's means that the person who...who's most concerned with my welfare knows where I am.”
Martel's eyes narrowed. “What are you planning?”
“Eh, nothing.” Greed stretched, the propped his feet up on the coffee table. “Stuff'll probably just happen.”
She wasn't happy with that answer, he could see that clearly. But she didn't say anything further.
Stupid shit would probably happen. So what.
Title: To Be Human
Series: FMA
Characters/Pairing: ScarxLust
Rating: PG-13 ish
I once loved a no-armed man.
“You...loved me?” There's shock, there's confusion, there's a rush of memories and faces, and her eyes widen. There's blood of the ground, and a man, slumped over, his clothes stained crimson. He doesn't look at her, his head turned to the side so that she can't see his eyes.
“You loved me,” she repeats, her voice hushed. For some reason, there's a lump in her throat, and she feels like it's hard to breath. She watches him for a moment, standing still, then she drops to her knees beside him. “Please...tell me.”
Scar looks at her with intense eyes, and some part of her wants to draw back from him, but instead she simply reaches out, one gloved hand touching his shoulder. She feels the blood from the remains of his arm seeping through the cloth.
“Not you.”
Those two words are like daggers to her heart, and Lust finally draws back, her back straightening and her face settling back into its stoic mask. “Not who I am now.”
It hurts. Somehow, it hurts, and she knows that it shouldn't. There shouldn't be memories, there shouldn't be pain, and there shouldn't be some sort of longing to touch this man. And even though he's just said enough to hurt her, she reaches forward again, pulling his clothing out of the way, ripping shreds from the hem.
“What are you doing?”
“You'll die if these are left to bleed,” she says quietly, wrapping strips around his shoulder. “There are bullets still inside you, but if--”
“I will die anyway.” Scar tries to rise, unsteadily without his arms to balance his body. Lust's hand clamps down on his shoulder-on the stump of his arm-and she looks straight into his eyes, red like hers.
“If I were human,” she begins, and the lump in her throat grows, “could you love me?”
He looks at her for a moment, and his eyes are unreadable. For a moment, Lust feels fear, because his eyes seem so cold, and she lets her arm go limp, letting her hand slid down to rest on her lap.
I once loved a man, even though I had no soul with which to love.
“Yes,” he says, bluntly, calmly, and her eyes widen and her mouth opens in surprise. “But you will never be human, Lust.”
“Why is that so bad?” she asks, almost desperate now, though she tries her best to contain all emotion. “Nothing separates me from you. Homunculi...we are only made different. Why do you--” She turns her head away, so that he cannot see the wild look in her eyes. “We only lack a soul,” she says, and her shoulders slump. “Only a soul, but not a mind, and not a heart. Why--” She looks back at him, sees how he is watching her. “Why do you see me as so different?”
“Humans fear those who are different.”
Red eyes. Brown skin. Like she used to have. Hair bleached of color, a scar slashed across an otherwise handsome face.
“You are different,” Lust says, reaching out and touching his brown cheek. She feels the tremors that run through his body at her touch. “And I do not fear you.”
Lust leans forward, her head angled to the side, her hand sliding into his hair. She brings herself close, smells the blood and the sweat and the musky smells that cover his body. She watches as his eyes close slightly, as his lips part, as he leans forward, and she sets her mouth over his, feeling all his muscle beneath her body as she pressing herself against him.
“Lust,” he murmurs against her mouth, and there is only that moment, because he pushes her away with his upper body, rises to his feet, leaving her on the ground. She stares at him for a moment, the smiles and stands beside him.
“It's not safe out here,” she says. “Come; let's go inside.”
I once loved a man.
Title: Never and a Memory
Series: FMA
Characters/Pairing: ScarxLust
Rating: PG-13
“Kiss me.”
“What?”
Her words jerked Scar out his stupor caused by blood loss. He felt her hands on the stumps of his arms, tying the bandages tightly, and he felt her hair brush against him. He knew she was close to him, but her words were unexpected and he opened his eyes, blinking in the dim light of the room.
“What?” he repeated, his voice hoarse from the pain he was in. Before him, Lust sat back on her heels, a scrap of his robes in her hands.
“Kiss me,” she said again, running the fabric between her fingers. Her face was pale, though it had always been pale, for as long as he had known this woman. Her eyes were pale as well, not the wine red that hers had been, but a diluted color, a very soft color. There was a smudge of blood on her cheek--his blood, no doubt-and her hair was in disarray around her shoulders. She looked less regal and imposing than before; she looked soft and real and beautiful. “Please.”
Scar wondered if he was hearing her correctly. Perhaps the loss of blood was causing him to imagine things. “Why?” he asked, watching her closely. Her eyes darted to the side, as though she were embarrassed, and one of her nails tore through the cloth she held.
“Because I want you to,” she said, her eyes snapping to his. “Because you're going to run off and die, and I--”
You what? He wanted to ask, but he didn't. “You're not her,” he said gruffly, and saw her eyes widen.
“I could be her. I was her. I--”
“You will never be her.” His voice was harsher than he intended, and she flinched back, away from him, as though this last time he had said those words was one time too much. She didn't understand.
“I will be human. I can become human.” Her voice was soft, still, and then she leaned forward, running her hand over his cheek. An odd thrill ran through his skin, but other than that he didn't react.
“That doesn't matter.” It didn't. Not really. He would not be here when she was human.
“Let me kiss you,” she said, pulling herself closer to him. “If I am not human, then...do not let it bother you. Please.”
“It doesn't.” And it didn't. She might not be human, but neither was he, truly. But he saw the shocked look on her face when he said it, and then she had moved forward, like liquid, and her mouth was upon his. There was a shock, a thrill, a burning feeling in his lips and a tightness in his chest. There was a sudden want for his arms, to wrap them around her and touch her.
She pulled back quickly, almost instantly, and her warmth fell away from him. He wondered why she was so warm, when she wasn't human. Her hands remained on him, one on his shoulder, one on his cheek. She didn't say anything. Neither did he.
And then she pressed her lips to his again, and wrapped her arms around him and pulled herself tight to him. He felt tremors run through her body, and he realized, for one split second, that she was like glass. Like glass with a thousand cracks in it, waiting for one last thing to come along and shatter it entirely.
But was all she wanted memories? She had said she wanted to remember. Then...it could not be him that she wanted. She would want his brother, would want to be kissing his brother, not him.
Never him.
I just love my messed up formating and my struggles with evilly simple HTML. And with fonts changing without be doing anything.
All of these are pretty old, by the way. From September or October.
Series: FMA
Characters: Greed, Martel
Rating: PG
Notes: Never was quite finished, but I'm not sure what the original idea was anymore...
“Greed?”
“Yeah?”
“Go talk to her. It'll either fix everything, or really fuck it up.”
“Thanks for the advice, Dorchet. I'll remember to return it one of these days.”
When he looked back on it, he was probably an idiot for trying to take Dorchet's advice, and actually confronting Martel. It wasn't because he didn't want to talk to the woman (quite the contrary, really), it wasn't because she had a very sharp knife (the knife was a bit unnerving, even to him, with the way that she would just toss it around all the time), and it wasn't because he was afraid he was going to do something stupid (he knew he would do something stupid, so he didn't have to worry about it). The problem was just that Martel was someone who was very hard to talk to when it came to things like this, and he had no idea how he was going to word everything he wanted to say. But he wanted to get it all out there, and he wanted to figure out what the hell was going on between the two of them.
There was a whole lot of shit that went along with this matter, and Greed wasn't particularly fond of shit.
“Are you still hung up on that whole immortality thing?” were Martel's first words to him. Greed was a little taken aback by the bitterness in her voice when she said that. He shook it off, however, because that was simply how he acted.
“Of course.” He sat down on the couch beside her, slinging one arm over the back. “Like I said, I'm greedy. I want everything, including eternal life.”
Martel turned to him, her eyes narrowed. “Bullshit.”
“You think so?” He pulled out a pack of cigarettes, shaking one out. “You want one?”
“No.” She was incredibly icy today, and he also noticed that she was incredibly tense. He set the cigarette between his lips, then proceeded to light it. He saw her nose wrinkle slightly as smoke began to drift around them.
“You don't want me to go after the kid,” he said after a moment. “Am I right?”
Martel was silent, her eyes of the far wall. “I don't want you to do anything stupid,” she finally said, fingering the knife that she held in her hands. “But if it's what you really want to do...I'll follow you.”
Greed turned so that he could see her fully. She glanced up, and their eyes locked. “That's good. 'cause something stupid will probably happen.”
“Greed...”
He flicked ash off the end of the cigarette. “It's bound to happen. Envy knows about me, and most likely knows where I am. That's means that the person who...who's most concerned with my welfare knows where I am.”
Martel's eyes narrowed. “What are you planning?”
“Eh, nothing.” Greed stretched, the propped his feet up on the coffee table. “Stuff'll probably just happen.”
She wasn't happy with that answer, he could see that clearly. But she didn't say anything further.
Stupid shit would probably happen. So what.
Title: To Be Human
Series: FMA
Characters/Pairing: ScarxLust
Rating: PG-13 ish
I once loved a no-armed man.
“You...loved me?” There's shock, there's confusion, there's a rush of memories and faces, and her eyes widen. There's blood of the ground, and a man, slumped over, his clothes stained crimson. He doesn't look at her, his head turned to the side so that she can't see his eyes.
“You loved me,” she repeats, her voice hushed. For some reason, there's a lump in her throat, and she feels like it's hard to breath. She watches him for a moment, standing still, then she drops to her knees beside him. “Please...tell me.”
Scar looks at her with intense eyes, and some part of her wants to draw back from him, but instead she simply reaches out, one gloved hand touching his shoulder. She feels the blood from the remains of his arm seeping through the cloth.
“Not you.”
Those two words are like daggers to her heart, and Lust finally draws back, her back straightening and her face settling back into its stoic mask. “Not who I am now.”
It hurts. Somehow, it hurts, and she knows that it shouldn't. There shouldn't be memories, there shouldn't be pain, and there shouldn't be some sort of longing to touch this man. And even though he's just said enough to hurt her, she reaches forward again, pulling his clothing out of the way, ripping shreds from the hem.
“What are you doing?”
“You'll die if these are left to bleed,” she says quietly, wrapping strips around his shoulder. “There are bullets still inside you, but if--”
“I will die anyway.” Scar tries to rise, unsteadily without his arms to balance his body. Lust's hand clamps down on his shoulder-on the stump of his arm-and she looks straight into his eyes, red like hers.
“If I were human,” she begins, and the lump in her throat grows, “could you love me?”
He looks at her for a moment, and his eyes are unreadable. For a moment, Lust feels fear, because his eyes seem so cold, and she lets her arm go limp, letting her hand slid down to rest on her lap.
I once loved a man, even though I had no soul with which to love.
“Yes,” he says, bluntly, calmly, and her eyes widen and her mouth opens in surprise. “But you will never be human, Lust.”
“Why is that so bad?” she asks, almost desperate now, though she tries her best to contain all emotion. “Nothing separates me from you. Homunculi...we are only made different. Why do you--” She turns her head away, so that he cannot see the wild look in her eyes. “We only lack a soul,” she says, and her shoulders slump. “Only a soul, but not a mind, and not a heart. Why--” She looks back at him, sees how he is watching her. “Why do you see me as so different?”
“Humans fear those who are different.”
Red eyes. Brown skin. Like she used to have. Hair bleached of color, a scar slashed across an otherwise handsome face.
“You are different,” Lust says, reaching out and touching his brown cheek. She feels the tremors that run through his body at her touch. “And I do not fear you.”
Lust leans forward, her head angled to the side, her hand sliding into his hair. She brings herself close, smells the blood and the sweat and the musky smells that cover his body. She watches as his eyes close slightly, as his lips part, as he leans forward, and she sets her mouth over his, feeling all his muscle beneath her body as she pressing herself against him.
“Lust,” he murmurs against her mouth, and there is only that moment, because he pushes her away with his upper body, rises to his feet, leaving her on the ground. She stares at him for a moment, the smiles and stands beside him.
“It's not safe out here,” she says. “Come; let's go inside.”
I once loved a man.
Title: Never and a Memory
Series: FMA
Characters/Pairing: ScarxLust
Rating: PG-13
“Kiss me.”
“What?”
Her words jerked Scar out his stupor caused by blood loss. He felt her hands on the stumps of his arms, tying the bandages tightly, and he felt her hair brush against him. He knew she was close to him, but her words were unexpected and he opened his eyes, blinking in the dim light of the room.
“What?” he repeated, his voice hoarse from the pain he was in. Before him, Lust sat back on her heels, a scrap of his robes in her hands.
“Kiss me,” she said again, running the fabric between her fingers. Her face was pale, though it had always been pale, for as long as he had known this woman. Her eyes were pale as well, not the wine red that hers had been, but a diluted color, a very soft color. There was a smudge of blood on her cheek--his blood, no doubt-and her hair was in disarray around her shoulders. She looked less regal and imposing than before; she looked soft and real and beautiful. “Please.”
Scar wondered if he was hearing her correctly. Perhaps the loss of blood was causing him to imagine things. “Why?” he asked, watching her closely. Her eyes darted to the side, as though she were embarrassed, and one of her nails tore through the cloth she held.
“Because I want you to,” she said, her eyes snapping to his. “Because you're going to run off and die, and I--”
You what? He wanted to ask, but he didn't. “You're not her,” he said gruffly, and saw her eyes widen.
“I could be her. I was her. I--”
“You will never be her.” His voice was harsher than he intended, and she flinched back, away from him, as though this last time he had said those words was one time too much. She didn't understand.
“I will be human. I can become human.” Her voice was soft, still, and then she leaned forward, running her hand over his cheek. An odd thrill ran through his skin, but other than that he didn't react.
“That doesn't matter.” It didn't. Not really. He would not be here when she was human.
“Let me kiss you,” she said, pulling herself closer to him. “If I am not human, then...do not let it bother you. Please.”
“It doesn't.” And it didn't. She might not be human, but neither was he, truly. But he saw the shocked look on her face when he said it, and then she had moved forward, like liquid, and her mouth was upon his. There was a shock, a thrill, a burning feeling in his lips and a tightness in his chest. There was a sudden want for his arms, to wrap them around her and touch her.
She pulled back quickly, almost instantly, and her warmth fell away from him. He wondered why she was so warm, when she wasn't human. Her hands remained on him, one on his shoulder, one on his cheek. She didn't say anything. Neither did he.
And then she pressed her lips to his again, and wrapped her arms around him and pulled herself tight to him. He felt tremors run through her body, and he realized, for one split second, that she was like glass. Like glass with a thousand cracks in it, waiting for one last thing to come along and shatter it entirely.
But was all she wanted memories? She had said she wanted to remember. Then...it could not be him that she wanted. She would want his brother, would want to be kissing his brother, not him.
Never him.
I just love my messed up formating and my struggles with evilly simple HTML. And with fonts changing without be doing anything.
All of these are pretty old, by the way. From September or October.