Disclaimer: I don't own Hagane no Renkinjutsushi. Period. And besides, if you sued me, you wouldn't get very much...maybe a cat...o.x;
Flames will be thrown back at you by Roy, constructive criticism appreciated! n.n
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Title: And Then The World Went Splodey (For 4ti3k4t35)
Rating: PG-13/R (For language, sexual implications, and utter brain breakage)
Genre: CRACK. PERIOD.
Word Count: 382
Challenge: HavocxGreedxKimbleyxArmstrongxDorochet
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Greed was a pimp. No, seriously, Greed was a major fucking pimp. If it looked relatively human and spoke like a human, yeah, he'd fuck that.
Kimbley was a whore. Period. Zolof J. Kimbley was a grade A whore. If Greed wanted it, he could get it for him. If Greed thought it was erotic, he could practically get off on just that notion. Aside from that, Kimbley was fucking easy.
Dorochet was loyal. Well, loyal and horny as a dog, of course. Dorochet was such a horny dog that he could be found on any given night humping legs. The more legs to hump, the better, as far as he saw it. And if it somehow involved REAL sex, who was he to complain?
Armstrong was…sparkly. Loud, sparkly, strong, sparkly, overfriendly, and did we mention he SPARKLED? How could he resist Kimbley when the little man came to him practically begging for release? And then there was Greed and his ability to become hard at will, and Dorochet with the way he'd give the best massage to his leg muscles! Oh, and Greed wore sunglasses, Dorochet was colorblind, and Kimbley liked flashy things, so none of them minded his sparkles! It was perfect!
Havoc, on the other hand… Well, Havoc was drunk. And when I say drunk, I mean PISS FUCKING DRUNK. And more than a little high. This was, of course, thanks to Kimbley spiking the punch, and Greed switching the blonde's nicotine with pot. That was only, however, the first time. After Havoc had sobered up again and woke up in the middle of the most gut wrenching post-orgy mess, it really hadn't been that hard to get him to come back down from the ceiling fan. Aside from the fact that the fan had broken, of course. Havoc had deemed himself blinded by Armstrong's sparkles, fond of Dorochet's puppy qualities, enjoyed arguments with Kimbley, and hell, Greed smoked! What was better than a smoke buddy, eh? In the end, he decided it was all good.
And then the writer's brain imploded and ran from her ears and nose like a goopy gray matter and bloody mess from the images put in her brain of this pairingLUNACY. On her grave was written: "MY EYES! THEY BURN! ALSKJSDLFKJSDLJ!" The End.