Author's Note: This is my first foray into the perspective of the Homunculi. I was inspired by Within Temptation's song "Angels," which talks about disillusionment in someone you trust. Lust has long been my favorite Homunculus, at least in the anime, because of the way she teams up briefly with Ed. Her rambling thoughts kind of got out of hand in this fic, but I had fun getting into her very sad head and asking a bunch of questions that will probably never be answered. Also, please note that I don't necessarily agree with everything that Lust is saying in here. I just think this is what a Homunculus such as herself would think about.
N.B.: This is a Banks Songfic. Rather than being your normal kind of songfic where the lyrics of the song are interspersed throughout the story, the lyrics are used sort of like an outline for the story. Those who are familiar with the song may be able to tell which parts were inspired by which lines. This is a songfic of "Angels," by Within Temptation.
I think I am the only Homunculus who really wants to be human. I know Gluttony doesn't care, and Pride would doubtless consider it a step backwards. All Envy cares about is revenge, and Wrath would become human just to prove a point. I never really knew Greed, and I'm not so sure about Sloth, but their actions suggest that I am right. They don't really care whether they are human or not.
I can't remember when I first decided that I wanted to become human. At first, the matter of the Philosopher's Stone was merely that of a dog following her mistress's orders, but one day I looked at the humans around me and realized that they have something that I do not. I wouldn't even be able to tell you what it is, which is funny and sad in its own way. Perhaps the simplest answer would be that humans have souls. Homunculi do not. I wouldn't have thought that this would make such a difference, but apparently it does. Humans can find joy in their families, pride in their work, peace in the world. But what can a Homunculi find? A cold and empty void where all of those things used to be, and now are lost.
When I first acknowledged this to myself, I felt feverish inside. An insatiable desire to be human, to feel what they feel, rose up inside me and could not be quenched. Suddenly the duties Dante gave me took on much more meaning, and I carried them out wholeheartedly. She promised me, she promised us all, that we could become human once we brought the Philosopher's Stone to her. I looked to her as a shining beacon of hope, my only hope, my only light in all this darkness. She was all that was good, all that was beautiful. She was an angel of beauty and generosity, and I adored her.
Fool that I was.
How could I have not seen through all of her lies? It was right there for all to see, so obvious that I never even guessed it. She was tricking us all along, and I fell for every trap she laid. Dante...she's like a spider, spinning her beautiful, delicate web beaded with dew. And I am the fly, drawn to her web and not even suspecting what she has in store for me. By the time I realize what's happening, I'm already caught and bound, and she is at this moment sucking the blood from my veins.
The worst part of everything is how she smiles through it all. She ought to frown, perturbed, when her lies and trickeries are exposed, but all she ever does is smile and say, "Yes, that is so. What of it?" I hate her for that smile, that maddening, infuriating, gloating smile! I want to swipe it off her face with my lance-like fingers, to tear her open and feel the blood pour over my hands. I want to tear out her heart as she tore out mine.
It was in the darkness of my captivity that I finally realized it. After I had disobeyed orders, I was left to hang on the wall, impaled five times in my arms and chest. And I had much time to think as I hung there, accompanied only by Gluttony. I thought long and hard about Dante, the things she had done in the past, and what she would do in the future. I thought of all I had learned about the person I once was, all the things Scar had told me. And then...it dawned on me.
All of this was Dante's doing.
Of course, I had known that before. I had been told of the Ishbal annihilation, of course, and how Pride and Envy had orchestrated it together. But it had never occurred to me that because of this...because of what Dante had done...Scar's poor brother died.
How strange, to think that a Homunculus, a man-made human, a creature with the shape of a human but empty inside, would have a heart. My shred of heart is nothing compared to any of the humans I have encountered, but there's something in there. I felt it burn and harden inside me as I realized what Dante had done. That man...he had been my lover, when I was a human. Though I have never met him, I can almost feel him inside me, for he was the one that brought me back. I have faint memories of our time together, of his face smiling at me, of his voice comforting me in my pain.
He must have loved me terribly, to do what he did. I cannot even imagine what the pain must have been like for him when he gave up a part of his body to bring me back. And here I am, living an immortal life as if mocking his sacrifice. I want to thank him somehow. Make his sacrifice worthwhile. Meaningful. If I could become human, wouldn't that mean that he succeeded? Wouldn't that make it worth the sacrifice?
Ha! What am I saying? 'Worth the sacrifice?' How could it be worth it when I am alive and he is dead? So that is why...I want to die. If I become a human, I can die. I will be mortal, and my life could be ended in a stroke. What is beyond death? If I die, will I be able to join my dead lover in some sort of afterlife? Or would I see the true soul of the woman I once was, in the arms of the man who loved her enough to attempt the impossible? Here am I, a Homunculus, a mistake, hoping for peace with a man who mauled his own body for another woman. She is not me. I am not her. All that awaits me in death is hell, figurative and literal.
And yet...I think I can taste hell already. I am a Homunculus, after all, an embodiment of the sin of lust. The reward for sin is temporary pleasure and eternal judgement, that much is certain. For I shall continue to live, immortal as I am, with no hope of ever experiencing what comes so naturally to a human.
The ones who dwell in hell are not angels; they are demons. I don't want to be a demon. I don't want to be a mistake. I don't want anything of the life that has been thrust upon me. All I want is to be an angel, like Scar and his brother, the humans who can find peace in the world and the ones they love. But that is never going to happen, and if I long for it, I'm only fooling myself. I want to hate the man who created me, who made me into a demon, but I find that I can't. After all, he is an angel, and who can argue with an angel? They are perfect. Perhaps that is why I can never become an angel like him. My very name speaks of my sin.
I ask myself: If I am a Homunculus, if I have no soul, why does all this bother me so much? Surely, it does not bother any of my brethren. They never betray any misgivings or confusion. Their paths are clear to them. But as for myself... Well, I think I am Dante's big failure.
Dante, Dante, everything revolves around Dante. If not for her, I might be dead already, or in even greater misery. Without her red stones inside me, I would not be immortal. And unfortunately, without her, I can never become human.
I want to break free from my dependence on her, but she is like an opium that I cannot give up. Or, dare I say it, a lover that one must always return to, though one knows she is unfaithful. But I will break away from Dante. This I swear.
They say that when you want to shoot the leader, first aim for his horse. Very well then, I will tear out all her supports from under her, until she is sure to fall. And I know precisely who I can turn to for help: her enemies. I realize that I am only running from one master to another, but that is what someone soulless like myself will do. I have no qualms in leaving Dante to serve another master, no twinge of guilt that I am betraying her, for that is precisely what I want: to betray her.
Isn't it ironic? Dante is no longer my sparkling angel. Now, Edward Elric is. Edward Elric, the State Alchemist. The child prodigy. My former enemy. Surely he can help me. Help me become human. Help me...die.
