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worldsokayestdragon · 3 months ago

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GreedxLing Week Day 5: Regrets

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Greed wasn’t the type of guy who had many regrets. He went for what he wanted when he wanted it, and he didn’t waste time moping over what might have been.

Oh sure, some things stuck with him, (Like blood swirling through dirty water, limbs floating by as he failed again and again to strike a single blow against the bastard who’d done that. Like blood on his own hands and a small body crumpled on the floor of the nightmarish tunnel he’d been told to guard, a face that became familiar too late stuck forever in an expression of betrayal.) but for the most part he let any regret he might feel go as he focused on his next big plan.

Even now that he was dying for good when he should have had a few more centuries of life in him, Greed didn’t have any regrets. It had been less than five minutes since he’d found out he’d been deluding himself about what he wanted for his entire existence, but he’d always been quick to adapt.

He’d found his way to what he’d truly desired regardless.

Ed was a good friend. That was why so many people cared about him. And it was obvious he cared about Greed, even if Greed never got around to telling him he felt the same way.

He hadn’t thought that Lan Fan girl liked him at all, but now she was looking up at him with hurt in her eyes, like she really cared that he was dying before they could get to know each other better. She was tough as nails, that one, and the most loyal person he’d ever met. It was a pleasant surprise that she had any positive feeling for him at all.

And, of course, there was Ling.

Ling was…everything.

Everything a guy like Greed could hope for and more.

Kind enough to want power not for himself but to help his people, and selfish enough to refuse to trade any of those people to get it. Smart and calculating, ruthless when necessary but never needlessly cruel, fucking deadly with a blade.

Not to mention perceptive enough to see through Greed’s bullshit, with all the patience needed to ease Greed into seeing through it himself. Greed probably never would have recognized that what he truly wanted was friendship–much less admitted to it–without Ling’s influence.

Ling was the best friend Greed had ever had.

Leaving him hurt. Lying to him hadn’t felt too great either.

But it was the only way to keep his father from killing Ling too, so Greed didn’t regret that either. He was far too greedy to let someone kill his best friend.

No, Greed didn’t have any regrets as he looked down, taking in the sight of his friends one last time. It really had been enough.

Ling looked away from Greed, which was a little disappointing. From his vantage point, drifting away above the battlefield, Greed could just barely hear Ling say Lan Fan’s name.

The girl nodded once, a determined look on her face, and then…threw something at Greed?

Rude! No respect for the soon-to-be dead.

Whatever it was seemed to warp in shape as it sailed through the air, its arc unerringly bringing it right between Greed’s eyes. It was bright red.

Greed realized that it must be the philosopher’s stone Lan Fan had found right before it hit him.

The untethered, floating sensation that had been carrying Greed out of this lifetime disappeared, and he felt he’d been swimming in a giant tub when the plug was pulled, carried down and down by an irresistible current.

The sky and the battlefield and his friends all disappeared, and Greed found himself once again suspended in a familiar, red-tinged void. The screaming around him was as loud as it had ever been–something you got used to and stopped hearing unless something reminded you to listen after a while–but Greed could tell that it was different than before. New voices from a new stone.

(Greed wondered if he could talk to all of these souls, get to know them like Ed’s dad had done for the ones in him, or if you needed to start that right after the stone was made so people didn’t have time to lose their sense of self.)

Something shifted again, and Greed found himself looking across the void of souls and into Ling’s face. Just like old times.

Ling didn’t struggle to find his footing this time, body and mind already accustomed to sharing this space with Greed. After barely a second to reorient himself to the new stone, Ling’s eyes locked onto Greed and he surged forward.

And punched Greed in the face.

Once again, rude! Everyone was attacking him today, and he didn’t even have his ultimate shield in here to protect himself.

“Ow! What was that for?”

“You idiot,” Ling snarled, winding back to punch Greed again.

Greed was ready this time, and projected an arm for himself to catch Ling’s hand. Ling reached to hit him with the other hand, and Greed caught that too. Ling struggled to keep swinging at Greed, but the homunculus didn’t let him go.

“Why am I an idiot? I just saved the day, ya know.” This really was not the reaction Greed was anticipating for his noble sacrifice.

“You were only thinking about yourself!”

“That’s kind of my whole deal, Ling.”

“No it isn’t,” Ling insisted. “You know it isn’t. And you lied to me! You promised we’d rule Xing together and then you left me.”

Ling was crying.

Ling was sobbing, and he’d stopped trying to pull away from Greed’s hands, clinging to them instead.

“You left me,” Ling repeated. “I was all alone. I don’t want to be alone like that again. It doesn’t matter if Lan Fan had a philosopher’s stone, I need you.”

All the regret Greed hadn’t felt as he was dying slammed into him now.

He hadn’t meant to upset Ling. He’d never wanted to make Ling cry. He’d been trying to protect him, to save him.

Regret and guilt churned uncomfortably inside of Greed.

Hesitantly he pulled Ling toward him and into a hug. Or as close to a hug as two soul projections–one human shaped and the other mostly a floating face–could have.

Ling went easily, wrapping his arms around Greed so tightly it might have been a problem if Greed needed to breathe.

“I’m sorry,” Greed murmured, the sound nearly lost to the cacophony around them. “It was the only thing I could think of to keep you safe. Father was going to kill you, too.”

“We could have fought him together,” Ling argued. “We should have fought him together.”

They really shouldn’t have–they would have both ended up dead–but Greed didn’t say that. Instead he just rubbed a hand over Ling’s back in a way he hoped was soothing.

“Please don’t leave me again.” Ling whispered.

“Never.” Greed wrapped his arms even tighter around Ling. “I’ll never leave you again if I have any choice about it. I promise.”

He hoped Ling believed him, but he couldn’t be sure how much trust he’d damaged with his one and only lie.

Ling pulled back, and Greed reluctantly let him go.

He didn’t go far, just putting enough space between them to look into Greed’s face.

Before leaning right back in and kissing Greed.

Greed’s mind screeched to halt. This wasn’t something he’d ever expected, and only partly because in this form Greed didn’t have what would traditionally be considered a human mouth.

Ling was amazing. Ling was perfect, really, and he was a prince. He could have anyone in the world, so why the hell was he wasting his time kissing Greed?

Ling pulled back when Greed didn’t respond, too stunned to kiss back. The prince looked embarrassed and a little afraid.

“I’m sorry,” Ling rushed to say. “I should have asked first, or–or not done that at all. I was just–I was so scared when you were gone, and then I was so relieved to have you back, but that’s no excuse. Please forgive me, we can forget that this ever–”

Well, that just wouldn’t do.

Greed took Ling’s face in both his hands and pulled him in for another kiss.

It was better than Greed had ever imagined, and not just because he’d never let himself imagine it. He’d wanted it, of course. Ling was his person, the one he could admit–at least to himself–that he cared about as more than a possession even before he’d realized that he wanted that with the others too. Ling knew Greed better than Greed knew himself, and that went both ways. Of course he wanted Ling to be his in every way.

But people had to want to belong to him, or there wasn’t any point to it. And Greed still wasn’t sure what Ling saw in him.

He definitely saw something. He pulled Greed impossible closer and deepened the kiss.Greed was a bit worried at first about his own sharp teeth, but judging from Ling’s enthusiasm, that wasn’t even a problem.

Eventually they pulled apart again, and this time Ling grinned at Greed.

“Does this mean you still want to come rule Xing with me?”

Greed laughed and tucked a bit of hair behind Ling’s ear as he answered. “Yeah, of course I’ll rule Xing with you. You don’t even have to ask.”

It was no King of the World, but Greed had never truly wanted that anyway. He would gladly rule a country with Ling. He would gladly rule just one clan with Ling.

Greed would happily move to a farm and rule nothing but a bunch of chickens if Ling asked him to.

He knew the hurt was still there from his lie, from his near death. He could feel it in the way Ling clung to him, afraid he’d disappear if he let go for a moment.

Greed would spend the rest of their lives making that up to him. And with the brand new philosopher’s stone within them, he would have plenty of time to do it.

#greedxlingweek2024 #greed fma #ling yao #greedling #these last two have been real sadboy hours huh #but don't worry #everything will be fine #like i said yesterday im a bitch who needs a happy ending #just a heads up i wont be posting tomorrow #it's my birthday!#and ill be doing birthday things #but ill have one for day 7 #might be a bit late but ill do it #im having too much fun writing all of these!#just looked at the word count on ao3 and its under 2 thousand?#that's the shortest thing ive ever written where i still felt like i actually said everything i needed to say #maybe writing a prompt fill every day is what will finally let me get my yapping addiction under control #fma

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worldsokayestdragon · 3 months ago

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GreedxLing Week Day 4: Haunted

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The Imperial Palace of Xing was haunted.

Of course it was haunted. In a building so old, one that had housed centuries of royal plotting and backstabbing for power, hauntings went without saying. Ghosts were an unremarkable feature of the place that the living residents mostly coexisted with.

Occasionally, when a room remained cold no matter the steps taken to warm it, or wailing echoed down a hall with no apparent source, or shadowy figures danced in the corners of one's vision only to disappear when looked at directly, a royal sage would be called in to cleanse the space and set up a shrine to appease the restless dead. And then life would carry on as usual.

Before his visit to Amestris, Ling had been skeptical of these reported hauntings. He'd never visited the palace himself to verify–not ranking high;y enough among his siblings to be invited by the former emperor–but it seemed to him that there was probably another explanation.

Certainly his Amestran friends would argue that there were no ghosts in the palace. Ed in particular would probably call him an idiot for even thinking there could be and then launch into an explanation about small cracks letting in a draft and animals trapped in the walls and mold spores that could cause hallucinations.

But Ling had seen far stranger things. A few restless spirits no longer seemed impossible.

So after becoming emperor he kept up with the little routines developed over generations to keep the palace ghosts peaceful. He even had the sages preemptively make a shrine for his father, just to head off any revenge the man might want for being tricked into thinking he had the secret to immortality just long enough for Ling to make his play for the throne.

Ling just wished there was such an easy solution for the fact that he was every bit as haunted as the palace.

Greed had lived inside of him–had occupied his brain and body like a house–and now Greed was dead.

His absence was like a missing limb, like those horrible few seconds between Gluttony biting through the muscle and bone of their shoulder and Greed’s healing growing their arm back.

Ling's head had felt like it was going to explode back when Greed had first merged with him under Central Command, too small to hold both of their consciousnesses. Now it felt much too big for him alone, full of an eerie echoing silence that should be filled by another person. Even the screaming souls of the philosopher's stone, once so terribly overwhelming, has become a familiar (if never pleasant) background noise over the months, and he found it hard to focus or even fall asleep without them now.

For a time there was only that emptiness–that crushing grief no other person could understand. Ling couldn't even pause to process it himself, too caught up in the mad rush back to Xing to give Fu a proper funeral, the careful plotting and maneuvering needed to seize the throne from under his father, the steady and fair decision making necessary to calm the court and hang onto his new position in the chaos of his rise to power.

There was so much that Ling had to do–so many people relying on him–and if he stopped moving for even a moment the grief was waiting, threatening to swallow him up.

As time marched on, it became clear that the crippling emotion wasn't the only thing lurking in Ling's mind.

There was also a ghost.

It started with the voices, a little over a year after Greed was first joined with Ling.

Not voices. A voice.

Greed's voice.

Ling recognized it as easily as he'd recognize his own. It was too distant and muffled to make out any words where it had always been loud and clear before, but it was unmistakable.

At first it happened rarely, and usually late at night when Ling was struggling to stay awake to finish just a bit more of his seemingly endless work. Ling could explain it away as his overtired mind playing tricks on him.

But it happened more and more frequently, Greed’s voice getting louder and more distinct as time went on.

It wasn’t the cocky tone Ling used to expect from Greed. There were never any demands or complaints or stupid jokes. It was usually just Ling’s name, and the odd word–normally please. Greed sounded desperate. He sounded like he was begging for Ling to listen to him, to help him.

But when Ling tried to listen, when he called back to Greed, there was nothing but silence once again.

It wasn’t just Greed’s voice either. There were other strange things happening to Ling.

Sometimes he caught a glimpse of his reflection and was certain his eyes were purple. When he looked closer they were always the deep brown they’d been his whole life, other than those months he’d shared his body with Greed.

He would find himself reaching for something without the conscious thought of picking it up. It didn’t feel like absentmindedness. It felt like his hand wasn’t under his control. He of all people would know the difference. But then it would always drop back to his side before reaching its goal. When he tried to move aside, to slip out of the controlling position in his own mind and let someone else take over in the way that had become easy and familiar, nothing would happen.

The one time an assassin managed to slip past Lan Fan long enough to take a swipe at Ling with a knife, he tried to block it with his bare hand. The resulting cut was deep and painful, and he was lucky it wasn’t severe enough to threaten his use of that hand.

Lan Fan had yelled at him for such a stupid move (later, in the privacy of his chambers where no courtiers could see a mere bodyguard acting so familiar with the emperor himself) and he couldn’t blame her.

He couldn’t even say it had been habit. It had been months, and he’d practiced fighting with his sword for hours a day in those early weeks, until he’d rewritten the instincts he’d picked up from relying on Greed’s power in battle.

But in the moment, he’d been so certain it would work. He had felt the cool tingle across his skin of Greed pulling up the Ultimate Shield for him, still nearly as familiar as the hilt of his sword in his hand after all this time. He thought he’d heard Greed shout a warning as well, still more distant than it should have been but so, so real. There hadn’t been a doubt in his mind that the blade would glance harmlessly off his hand.

So Ling was haunted.

It wasn’t the sort of thing he could go to the royal sages about, of course. A possessed emperor was a liability Xing could never afford, and a crazy one was even worse.

He didn’t even tell Lan Fan. He knew that she knew that he was hiding something from her, and he hated how that must be hurting her. But he couldn’t stand to see pity in her eyes if she found out how much he was falling apart without Greed. Or worse, the betrayal that he was so caught up in mourning the homunculus when she’d lost her grandfather, a man who had been like family to Ling too.

And on his own he didn’t know how to appease Greed’s spirit, or stop himself from going even further into madness. Whichever one was needed.

He’d made a shrine to Greed in his bedroom. Not an official one, just a collection of things he thought Greed might like on his bedside table. An especially gaudy trinket that had been gifted to him by one of the clan heads here, a black bracelet with spikes that he’d seen at a festival stall during his royal appearance and sent a servant with money to buy for him there. And, in the center, an ordinary rock that he’d found tucked in his pocket after the Promised Day.

Greed had seen it while they were making their way into Central City from the forest where Al had captured Pride. He’d nearly sent them sprawling to the ground when he’d skidded to a halt to go back and pick it up. It hadn’t looked like anything worth the trouble to Ling, but Greed insisted it was an interesting color. He’d put it in their pocket, and Ling had forgotten about it until he’d pulled it back out himself after Greed was gone.

Ling began treating this collection of things more like a proper shrine, burning incense and leaving little cakes nearby. It didn’t help.

And why would it? Greed wasn’t haunting the palace, wasn’t a ghost in halls he’d never gotten to see. He was haunting Ling, and there was nothing to be done about it.

Ling would rip his ribcage open and build Greed a shrine there, but if only he could heal from that sort of thing.

That’s a little dramatic, don’tcha think? Greed’s voice asked. Not that I’d expect anything less. I’m totally worth it.

It was the first time Ling had heard a full sentence from the ghost, and it was so clear and loud that he jumped in surprise from where he’d been staring morosely at Greed’s rock.

“The day I start taking criticism about being dramatic from you, I’ll know I’ve lost it,” Ling snarked back before his brain fully caught up with himself, though luckily he had the presence of mind to speak quietly enough not to disturb Lan Fan where she’d fallen asleep on the settee in the corner. (She’d been worried since the failed assassination attempt. Ling thought this might be the first time she’d slept in days.)

Just then, Greed hadn’t sounded like a ghost, wailing–distant and mostly unintelligible–for help that the living couldn’t provide. He’d sounded like himself. Maybe a little tired, but as real and present as he’d ever been.

“Greed?” Ling whispered.

You can hear me? Greed asked. He sounded almost as disbelieving as Ling felt. Oh, thank god! I’ve been trying to talk to you for forever, but I couldn’t work up the energy. Turns out getting mostly ripped out of your body and having all your extra souls siphoned away really takes it out of you. Who woulda guessed?

Disbelief and joy bubbled up in Ling’s chest, and he laughed. It turned into a sob halfway through, and suddenly Ling couldn’t stop crying, all the tears he hadn’t allowed himself since losing Greed rushing out now that–against all odds–he had him back.

Wait, I didn’t mean to make you cry! Greed sounded panicked now. I’m sorry. I promise I won’t pull that shit again, if it makes you feel better? Dying twice was enough for me.

“You’d better not,” Ling sobbed. “How could you lie to me?”

I’m sorry, Greed repeated.

Ling could tell he meant it. “I forgive you, just don’t do it again.”

“Ling?”

The commotion had woken Lan Fan. She sat up and looked at him with bleary eyes, before shaking off all apparent sleepiness and rushing to his side when she got a good look at him.

“My lord, what’s wrong? Are you hurt”

She stood over him, patting along his arms in the beginning of a familiar check for injuries. Ling caught her hands to stop her.

“I’m okay Lan Fan. It’s wonderful news. Greed is back!”

The alarm left Lan Fan’s eyes, replaced with a softer worry. She looked sad.

“Ling, I think you should try to get some sleep now,” She said gently. “I know it’s been hard for you, but–”

Greed pushed for control of their body, and Ling could tell that he was too weak to take over by force. Ling stepped aside for him easily.

“So little faith in me still,” Greed complained. Lan Fan reeled back at the sound of the homunculus’ voice coming from Ling’s mouth. “I’ll win you over eventually, girlie. Just you wait.”

“Greed?” Lan Fan asked. It sounded less like a question and more like verifying something she already knew.

“The one and only,” Greed answered. “Try to contain your excitement.

Lan Fan did not look excited. She didn’t even look particularly happy. But she also didn’t immediately demand Greed give Ling his body back, so Ling would take that as a good sign.

“Very well,” Lan Fan said. “I know my lord is pleased by your return, so I won’t object to your presence, homunculus. But Greed?”

Lan Fan grabbed the front of Ling’s sleeping shirt and pulled Greed up off of the bed to glare into his eyes, an action she would never dream of taking with Ling himself.

“I am no alkahestrist, but if you ever hurt Ling again I will find a way to put you in your own body, and then I will make you pay.”

“Understood, ma’am,” Greed gasped. He sounded mostly scared, but Ling could sense that he was also a little admiring.

“Good.” Lan Fan let go of them and turned toward the door. “I’m going to bed now. Try to keep that idiot out of trouble.”

It was unclear who was the idiot and who was supposed to be doing the keeping out of trouble, but Ling didn’t mind. He appreciated Lan Fan giving them some privacy for now. Starting tomorrow he would be launching mission “make Lan Fan and Greed get along,” but for the moment he was glad to have a Greed all to himself.

Greed slipped back into Ling’s mind before the door could close behind Lan Fan. It was less a smooth transfer of power, and more like Greed had simply run out of steam and lost his hold.

Damn, can’t believe I’m still this wiped out, Greed complained.

“You’ll get your strength back,” Ling reassured. “We have plenty of time, and I don’t mind waiting.”

Ling would gladly wait forever. He couldn’t imagine being impatient with Greed’s recovery.

He was too full of joy to feel much of anything else, in fact. Greed was back! They could finally rule Xing together, just like Ling had promised they would. The work would still be hard, the job of a ruler never over, especially when said ruler was trying to carry out major reforms in the way his country operated.

But now that he had Greed back–had the second half of his soul once again where it belonged–Ling was excited to face that challenge in a way he hadn’t been in far too long.

Ling and Greed would be the best emperor Xing had ever had, and they would change the country for the better whether it liked it or not.

The Imperial Palace of Xing was still haunted, but Ling swore that, by the time he and Greed were done, it would no longer be a place filled with the type of dirty tricks and backstabbing that led to thousands of angry ghosts.

#greedxlingweek2024 #fma #ling yao #greed fma #greedling #lan fan #let's hear it for haunting as a metaphor for love #gotta be one of my favorite tropes #I was so drawn to the haunted prompt #and i told myself that i was gonna leave at as an actual ghost situation #or at least ambiguous as to whether greed was really coming back or just a ghost/grief induced hallucination #but as much as i love angst im also a bitch who needs a happy ending #the comfort part of hurt/comfort is where its at for me im afraid

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