Title: Scars of Leftover Memories
Author: Amber
Dawn
Rating: T, for boys on boys and WHEE EXPLOSIONS!
Pairing: Kimbley/Alphonse Elric.
Notes and
Warnings: This is, quite simply, a non-con mindfuck featuring
pedophilia. If it ain't your cuppa, I'd suggest running. Post-series,
pre-movie, FEAR THE MEMORYLESS!AL. No smut this time, sorry. Title
taken from a track on the Wild ARMs 3 OST.
Disclaimer:
The track-title and Fullmetal Alchemist are property of a
bunch of people who live in Japan. Micchi does not live in Japan, and
therefore, does not own them.
He didn't know what was going on. It was cold here, freezing, even though something deep inside told him this was a desert. A familiar place, and yet one he couldn't remember going to.
Something terrible was going to happen. He felt it in his bones. He gripped his jacket, pulling it tighter around him. Events he'd never seen, people he didn't know... but all of it felt so familiar. In this cold desert, everything had happened before. But something wasn't right, something didn't add up. Something was different from the memories-that-weren't.
There was a man, a frightening man, and Alphonse knew in his gut that this man was going to kill him. Slowly. And enjoy every minute of it. He backed away slowly, this dark-haired man closing in on him. Stalking him, stalking his prey. Transmutation circles on his palms. A distant vision of this man flickered across Al's mind, a helpless soldier exploding at the touch of this... this monster.
"K-Kimbley..." Al whimpered, stumbling backwards more urgently now. Kimbley just smirked, flicking the long tail of hair he wore behind him. Continuing his languid, devil-may-care pace towards an Alphonse who was growing more and more panicked by the second.
Al stumbled, tripped over a chunk of rock. Flailing his arms, he connected with a wall. Convenient, but for whom, he wondered. The beast laughed, a horribly blood-curdling sound that made Al's eyes wider than he thought possible, with fear. Kimbley's hands were beside his head, flat against the ragged wall. Pinning him, trapping him. Al whimpered softly, closing his eyes tightly against the explosion he felt sure was going to come...
Instead, he felt something warm and wet, dancing over the shell of his ear. His eyes flew open, he jerked his head back, smacking it against the wall with a dull "thud" that threatened unconsciousness. It was Kimbley's hand on his chin, jerking it up and forcing their eyes to meet that kept him in the realm of wakefulness, adrenaline resultant of fear coursing through his veins. The smirk, the smug little look on Kimbley's face made Al want to rage out, to punch him... but he was frozen there, his head just dazed enough to confuse him.
"You're my little playtoy," Kimbley purred at him, and those smug lips descended down, drawing back for the Crimson Alchemist (Al wondered where that knowledge came from, momentarily...) to nip and bite along his collarbone. Skin broke, and Al cried out softly.
"Please... please stop!" he whimpered, shaking his head frantically. He was rewarded with hands on his cheeks, stilling him, and his face was once again forced to look up at Kimbley.
"No," was the simple reply, another of those dark laughs following. "I'm going to blow your mind, Alphonse Elric."
Al felt the explosion starting, a spark right where his captured cheeks met the flesh of a demon's hand. It was almost a tingle, the very fabric of his material being changing, shaping itself to Kimbley's will.
Alphonse gasped as he jerked up in his bed, sweat soaking his pajamas and beading along his forehead. A glance around told him he was safe, in his room, in Auntie Pinako's house. A deep, calming breath, two, and the vivid memories-that-never-were receded back into the fog of dreams.
Just a little nightmare, that's all it was. Surely.