Categories > Anime/Manga > Full Metal Alchemist > Mistakes
written for hallidae on lj.
Disclaimer- dont own the boys, merely borrowing. no profit made.
Another nightmare.
Like dogs had fleas and cheap whores had diseases, Roy Mustang had his nightmares. He could smell blood, the distressingly sweet tang of burned flesh and wondered what past atrocities or future mistakes his mind was going to parade in front of him this time.
The sooner he humored his conscience, the sooner he could slip into a real, restful sleep.
Blue eyes drifted out of the bleak haze of Roy's guilt-plagued brain; blue eyes rimmed with red, staring with almost malicious unhappiness from a face that was twisted and mangled. Roy gurgled out a protest and stumbled back, mouth twitching through a series of silent no's.
"Aren't you happy to see me?" A tongue, swollen and black with death, formed the words, accompanied by a throat that had been reduced to nothing more than a series of grotesque banners of flesh drifting slightly in the impossible exhalation of his speech.
Breath thick with corruption and rot and dense with bile and excrement drifted towards Roy, a sort of insidious miasma reaching from a disturbed grave.
Reflexively, Roy snapped, an attempt to strike out and remove the source of his distress. A finger of fire reached across, setting a bit of rotting flesh aflame, and blue eyes widened in betrayal. "Wasn't enough for me to die for you...now you want to have a hand at killing me as well?"
Havoc howling a warning...Havoc leaping forwards...the feel of Havoc's shoulder slamming into his stomach...the weight of Havoc's body falling atop, bleeding, broken, and most definitely not breathing...
"No..." Roy keened, trying frantically to deny the accusation.
"Ever the loyal puppy dog, eh? Won't you give me a pet?" Roy's flesh crawled as the walking corpse approached, rotting tongue licking obscenely along a flaking, swollen lower lip. "No? Don't need the stand in anymore, now that you have your favorite bed toy back?"
"Havoc..." Roy whispered, finally daring to name the aberration before him. "I didn't...it wasn't..."
"Oh, I know how it was, 'old man'. Good enough to play with, not special enough to keep."
Roy winced at the sound of his restless dead using Maes' pet name for him.
" 'S ok, don't feel like you have to explain yourself. Good ol' Havoc is used to being replaceable...expendable."
Roy held out his arms in entreaty. "Jean..."
"Fucking bit too late for that, aint it?" Havoc spat, a partially crusted wad of black and red and turned, granting an unwilling Roy a rather explicit view of how torn muscles pulled and strained against bone as Havoc hunched his shoulders.
Roy lurched awake, the echoes of his scream ringing in his ears. The familiar scent of Maes' cologne chased away the haunting remains of rot and blood from his dream, and sent him lurching out of bed, desperate to be away, only to be violently sick a few feet away from the bed. Leaving Maes to stare on in bewildered silence.
Disclaimer- dont own the boys, merely borrowing. no profit made.
Another nightmare.
Like dogs had fleas and cheap whores had diseases, Roy Mustang had his nightmares. He could smell blood, the distressingly sweet tang of burned flesh and wondered what past atrocities or future mistakes his mind was going to parade in front of him this time.
The sooner he humored his conscience, the sooner he could slip into a real, restful sleep.
Blue eyes drifted out of the bleak haze of Roy's guilt-plagued brain; blue eyes rimmed with red, staring with almost malicious unhappiness from a face that was twisted and mangled. Roy gurgled out a protest and stumbled back, mouth twitching through a series of silent no's.
"Aren't you happy to see me?" A tongue, swollen and black with death, formed the words, accompanied by a throat that had been reduced to nothing more than a series of grotesque banners of flesh drifting slightly in the impossible exhalation of his speech.
Breath thick with corruption and rot and dense with bile and excrement drifted towards Roy, a sort of insidious miasma reaching from a disturbed grave.
Reflexively, Roy snapped, an attempt to strike out and remove the source of his distress. A finger of fire reached across, setting a bit of rotting flesh aflame, and blue eyes widened in betrayal. "Wasn't enough for me to die for you...now you want to have a hand at killing me as well?"
Havoc howling a warning...Havoc leaping forwards...the feel of Havoc's shoulder slamming into his stomach...the weight of Havoc's body falling atop, bleeding, broken, and most definitely not breathing...
"No..." Roy keened, trying frantically to deny the accusation.
"Ever the loyal puppy dog, eh? Won't you give me a pet?" Roy's flesh crawled as the walking corpse approached, rotting tongue licking obscenely along a flaking, swollen lower lip. "No? Don't need the stand in anymore, now that you have your favorite bed toy back?"
"Havoc..." Roy whispered, finally daring to name the aberration before him. "I didn't...it wasn't..."
"Oh, I know how it was, 'old man'. Good enough to play with, not special enough to keep."
Roy winced at the sound of his restless dead using Maes' pet name for him.
" 'S ok, don't feel like you have to explain yourself. Good ol' Havoc is used to being replaceable...expendable."
Roy held out his arms in entreaty. "Jean..."
"Fucking bit too late for that, aint it?" Havoc spat, a partially crusted wad of black and red and turned, granting an unwilling Roy a rather explicit view of how torn muscles pulled and strained against bone as Havoc hunched his shoulders.
Roy lurched awake, the echoes of his scream ringing in his ears. The familiar scent of Maes' cologne chased away the haunting remains of rot and blood from his dream, and sent him lurching out of bed, desperate to be away, only to be violently sick a few feet away from the bed. Leaving Maes to stare on in bewildered silence.
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