Title- Finding One's Niche
Disclaimer- Arakawa owns all, I'm just playing with her toys.
Timeline/Spoilers-Just before the start of the Ishbalan war. Spoilers if you don't know how it started
Warning- Envy being Envy
Summary-He had his niche
Author's Note- I think I enjoy writing Envy a bit too much. Written for fma fic contest's Envy challenge, won second place
It had been too long since Father had given Envy an assignment that had actually excited the homunculus. It seemed like Wrath got all the good work. Sometimes Envy was called upon to pick up Lust's overflow, since the information Father craved could best be wormed out of the country's important men and women when they were vulnerable. That usually meant alcohol and sex. While Envy could take any form, either sex, having to actually touch the humans that way only served to remind him that he wasn't like his 'siblings.' His form was genderless and he borrowed sex imperfectly, not understanding the subtleties of the roles. Lust was so much better at screwing than he was, and he hated her for it. Still, he liked his usual chosen form, svelte, strong. At least he didn't look like Gluttony or Sloth.
No, let Lust handle the stuff that needed doing horizontal. At least she didn't have to be dead sure she was on the bottom or risk crushing someone Father wasn't ready to have killed yet. The job at hand was more to Envy's taste. He was good at this sort of thing. His military boots clomped along the dusty desert sidewalk. Why did anyone want to live in this hot, sandy hell? Well, if Father's plan worked, no one would. Wearing some soldier's face, Envy unholstered his gun. Within a breath, cordite perfumed the air and a child lay dead at his feet.
Envy grinned. Now this was more like it.