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lupins-hehim-pussy · 6 months ago

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I wanna know ur Fontaine msq criticisms 👁️👁️👂I’m all ears

I'm not sure if you wanted me to talk about this secretly or publicly but! Here I go!

The TLDR: Fontaine MSQ aestheticised prison, poverty, child abuse, the justice system/court and didn't properly address any of it.

Focalors/Furina has way too much of a sympathetic angle for a dictator who's lets people drown with her inaction.

Neuvillette feels Bad for sentencing some people to death/prison, but that's it. He's one of the most powerful people in Fontaine. If he felt like there are systemic injustices, I.E sending an abused Child to prison, he should be the first person to DO something about it, not just cry and be sad so the audience can be like aw, that's complex character writing isn't it? No it's not! And guilt doesn't absolve you!!!!!!! (These are stuff we deal with in OTCOJ read my fic now /j)

Meropide has children in it, both Sentenced there (Wriothesley) and BORN THERE (Lanoire), and this is just a quirk of the place. Not only that, Meropide accepts prisoners of all genders and crimes. There are abusers and abuse victims in one place. Do you know how bad that is? How much potential for crimes to happen in a place like that— oh wait, Meropide isn't under Fontaine's jurisdiction. If you are assaulted as an inmate it literally means nothing to the court.

Wriothesley had no qualifications when he took over. Depending on how long he lived on the streets, how old he was when he killed his parents, how old he was when he was first taken in by the orphanage, etc, the man might never have more than 4–5 years of formal education. Sigewinne probably had to teach him how to write reports. And do Meropide's spreadsheets. Edit because I forgot to elaborate on this one: This isn't a point brought up anywhere, which is bad, because when poverty and incarceration robs you of a proper education (and the rights to vote in many places too, too, by the way), it reduces your prospects for jobs, reduces many people's ability to get a home etc etc. Wriothesley was just, narratively, Given his position.

Meropide is an industrialized prison, and they portray this as a good thing. Prisoners are paid in coupons for their labour, and this is also portrayed as a good thing.

The One-Meal-A-Day reform was something Paimon gushed about being so great of a perk, that people might want to go to jail for food (could be interesting and reflective of systemic poverty if MHY had brains, but they don't, so I was just Pissed because essentially all Paimon wanted to say was "Prison isn't so bad, but still don't go to prison guys! Prison labour is really hard!"). By the way, in most real-world prisons they are obligated to feed you three meals a day. Because that's how much food a human needs. MHY went with one meal just so they can say "if you want to eat more, you have to work." And then the welfare meal is a goddamn gacha. So imagine you're a starving child who's too weak to work in the fucking robot assembly line, and you wander up for your first meal in 24 hours, only to luck in with a shit one. I'd kill myself.

They wrote Wriothesley, who's a victim of the system, into a guy who's say shit like "I'm the Duke I can do whatever I want" for a cool moment where he choke-slams an inmate (I know he was a bad guy. But also, in copaganda when cops are violent/disregarding protocols, they are always only portrayed to do that against bad guys, so what does our critical thinking tells us about this one?) They wrote Wriothesley, who was an inmate of a prison so bad, so notorious that it is the literal boogeyman of Fontaine, that has a legal (???) fighting pit, with an administrator who abuses his position to be unreasonable, to willingly stay in the place and become an Administrator who would choke-slam an inmate while saying a cool line about how he has the power to do whatever he wants. They wrote him, the guy who had to be fed on the streets by melusines, to think one-meal-a-day was a good enough reform (while he spends god-knows how much on his boat). This wasn't a victim-turns-into-abuser narrative either, they want all this to be seen as positive character growth.

And then, the final kicker is, they gloss over his entire abuse. You can only read about these shit in his profile, which most people don't because they don't Have Him or doesn't care to unlock it/read it online, and they jammed his entire backstory into a flaccid info-dump at the end of his character story quest. This man isn't Allowed to feel abused and neglected and show any reaction to it within the narrative of Fontaine itself, because if they actually Gave Weight to what happened to him, they'd have to confront THE FUCKING JUSTICE SYSTEM they had NO PLANS on criticising. I don't think they ever explicitly said the fucking Crime-Theatre nonsense was Bad either.

I could go on, but this is already so long. But yeah, I hope this gave you an idea.

#and then. and im putting my most controversial opinion in the tags bc im scared lmao. but like... then... you have the fans..... doing......#the same fucking thing.#the amount of times I have seen Wriothesley used as just a side prop for Neuvillette to feel bad about shit. While Wriothesley is just.....#portrayed as having the inner peace and acceptance of a fucking monk. I was shocked when I read some fics I swear #they really said this man has no trauma at all! the stuff in his past? he's over it!#i hate that passivity when writing victims. like ok if One is written like that #sure. but MHY write all their victims like this #I mean look at fucking Lanoire #and Neuvillette sentenced him to prison after he killed his parents who were never confronted by the law. That's canon.#that's more canon than WRLT itself.#why weren't they confronted? did wriothesley try to talk to someone about it? why did he feel like killing them is his only option ?????#at least have there be some sort of conflict and friction there. How does Wriothesley feel about the court and Neuvillette when #this is the literal system that allowed all that shit to happen to him in the first place???#are you Sure he won't be at least a little wary? the fact that some people think he's Grateful to Neuvillette or even idolises him is crazy #because the man literally subjected him to prison. and if you want to portray his prison life as easy breezy and trauma free #you undermine his entire shitty little 'prison reform' narrative #and if you think he'd be completely 100% accepting of the justice system. Then why the fuck would he kill his parents himself #don't you see that the whole 'I'll accept whatever sentence in order to kill my parents' thing in itself is an act of defying the system #and I Hate #this idea. about being some of the most powerful men in the nation. and yet they can't fucking TRY to set up a better system or smth #i can't believe I read a fic where leaving starving street kids croissants is the most they (the characters and the writer) want to do #like. what the fuck. the whole point of that scene is just to make neuvillette feel bad and be like aw......... poor people exist.... OK???#this is literally how MHY would portray him though.... tbf..... This is what ppl would argue as 'in character'#I just think the character they're in is bad.#I will say I'm giving the fic a lot of grief. there's more to the scene than that. and. ultimately.....#fanfic is (saying this through gritted teeth) ........ recreational....................and free........... in the end.................#i dont think this is reflective of the writer. I do think it is reflective of the way the canon material (genshin impact)#presents in the audience who consumes it. most fans only want these guys to fuck anyway. not think about systemic injustices #canon doesn't make it about the systemic injustices either so why should we. the aesthetic of slums and prisons are just there for fun guys #IM JUST CRAZY OK. I SHOULDNT EVEN BE HERE THIS IS NOT FOR ME . I DONT CARE THAT MUCH FOR PEOPLE FUCKING AND I CARE TOO MUCH

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irenespring · 4 months ago

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Guys I just got so much writing done. It's such a good feeling. DAYS of being able to write like two paragraphs maximum of my SGE Hilson fic and then the productivity gods were like "we bless you with 6000 words." And I know where the rest of the chapter is going to go. Haha things are finally going according to plan. I shall likely make the scheduled day after all.

#house md #fanfiction #fanfic writing #hilson #school for good and evil #it's great when fic writing is really fun #Like “I shall make them have so much FUN and then I shall make them feel so much PAIN”#Though this is more of a “so much fun” kind of chapter #Even though it's the Trial by Tale so they're in the death forest

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tunastime · 4 months ago

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Stars Realigning

what's GOOD! happy mcyt au fest day(s)! this is my contribution to 2024's mcyt au fest, based on the art of my fantastic artist in crime @eyesandbees. super shoutout to tetris (GO LOOK AT THE ART RN), this au really did something fantastic for my brain :3 and kudos to all the @mcytblraufest mods, contributors, and my mutuals new and old who joined in. mwah!

Xisuma and Exonia were explorers by nature—and how could they not be, when the world rested right outside their fingertips. When Xisuma pulls himself and their brother into an unfamiliar End dimension, their only chance of escape is with a player they've hardly met, to a space station they've never even heard of. Built on the foundations of exploration and discovery, HC might be all the opportunity the siblings need to start a new life—or ruin their only shots at understanding themselves.

(12,765 words) (Read the whole fic here!)

Every player knows two facts about the End: one of those is that it is very large. The other is that it is very dangerous. The islands stretch onwards as far as they eye can see, tipping over a black horizon line invisible to the naked eye. The static particles of void—ink black and speckled grey—fill the spaces that stone and cities and blocky fruit trees do not. No players make their home here—none dare to spend more time than they must. The End is a utility, more than it is a dimension of its own. Hostile conditions make it unlivable to those other than the ones that know it best: endernians, endermen, the dragon, and her egg.

The third, most often overlooked fact, that meshes with the others in vastness and hostility, is that the End is no place for strangers to combat.

Xisuma is one of those strangers—was one of those strangers. World hopping was dangerous, unpredictable, dimension hopping even more so, especially for them—for the untrained. He hadn’t meant for either of them to tumble into the End dimension, prepared or otherwise, with its thin air and itchy end dust and large, very large, very angry dragon. It's the first thing his eyes catch—the movement of large wings and a massive, black snout as the world tilts and settles around them.

Xisuma gasps as they finish settling into the world and Exonia follows suit, shoving them both behind the pillar beside them. The air feels charged with energy, thick with the beat of air from the dragon’s wings. Xisuma swallows as the two of them drop behind the pillar, and as they manage to catch their breath from the initial shock, he stirs up the courage in his chest to peek out behind the pillar. He steps out into the ring around him, eyes searching for the dragon above him. He can hear her cry even from on the ground. The crystals that bolster her strength glow brightly as she passes. It only takes a moment for her to swoop down as she circles, and it’s in this moment that Xisuma realizes he’s been seen.

They freeze.

The dragon crashes to the ground, the heavy footfalls of her landing shaking the dirt around them.

Xisuma stares into the creature’s face, purple eyes unblinking.

Something grabs his hand. It takes him a startlingly long moment to realize it’s Exonia, their eyes wide behind their tinted glasses. He’s still too busy staring up into the maw of the black dragon, her eyes trained on his every movement, the betraying flick of their tail. His heart beats fast in the base of their throat. A voice jumps to life in his mind—surely if he stays put, if he doesn’t move, the great dragon will turn her head away from him, and spare him, and spare his twin, and the world will be right again. Xisuma shuts their eyes. The beat between his first and second breath feels like a millenia.

The dragon snuffs a great breath that catches into a screech, its heavy head whipping back and around as Ex tugs on his arm. His eyes snap open.

He’s not dead.

The dragon roars.

If he squints, Xisuma thinks he can see a shape, blurred by the scent and fog of the dragon’s breath, barely visible against the dark black obsidian pillars. It draws back its glittering weapon and fires, arrows flying high above the dragon’s head and to the peak of the pillars above. The peak explodes; obsidian chips and dust rain down from the blast.

He jerks his head to look at Ex. Their face is pulled tight in confusion and fear, a mask of anger flickering over it instead as they tug his hand again. He stumbles forward, feet catching pocks in the stone before he regains his footing. The dragon’s focus stays trained on the newcomer. She slashes with her claws, jaws chomping on thin air as the figure darts around with the effort of someone trained to deal with monsters her size.

An adventurer. Another player.

He turns back to look at Exonia—the back of their head, the tip of a pointed ear they can see. They’re practically pulling him along into further darkness toward something he can’t yet see, weaving between obsidian pillars as the island stretches out in front of them, all the way to a noticeable drop into void. As they cut through a section of chorus trees, a craft makes itself known on the next ridge.

A way out.

Xisuma pales, the oxygen in his lungs suddenly feeling very thin.

“What is that thing?” he manages as they start to slow. Ex shoots him a look over their shoulder, eyebrows tightly furrowed.

“A ship!” they say. “Don’t be foolish!”

“We don’t even—” X starts, but Exonia pulls them further forward. They dip their head, avoiding the endermen that roam around them, sinking in on themselves to appear smaller. They scramble up the next hill. In the short distance they’ve put between the dragon and themselves, they can still hear the screech of her anger and the beat of her wings. X’s heart still slams away in his throat.

“D’you want to be eaten, you derp?” Ex hisses, dropping into a crouch as they shimmy over the crest of the hill. X scrambles after them, finding their footing on the steep slope and up onto the ridge.

“No!” They blanch at the thought of the dragon finding them again, with her huge, yellow-white teeth and debilitating breath. “Why would I want that?”

Ex shoots them a pointed glance, taking a few quick steps around the edge of the “ship”—if it was a ship at all—as they do.

“Then start lookin’ for a way in!” they bark. Xisuma sets his jaw. Sighing through his nose, he picks himself up from his crouch, and follows suit. The ship is bright white and grey-black, hidden carefully by the dark sky around them and by shimmering enchantments that Xisuma can only guess at as he travels around its side and toward the back. It’s not a large craft—certainly different than anything he’d ever seen.

Ex investigates with the unshakable confidence of someone who’s read far too much about this exact situation, or craft, or biome, or what have you. Xisuma tries to siphon that energy for himself, watching as they track the side of the metal with eyes partially obscured. They reach the back together, the ship’s large bay door shut against the End and void around them. X watches Ex’s face, their tail flicking agitatedly. Their hands find a depression near the fins of the ship. As they press into it, the door hisses, starts to lower onto the dusty stone below. Exonia scrambles back, catching Xisuma as they do, their hands clasping together again. Xisuma watches as the dark inside floods with the End’s pale glow, illuminating the sparse space within.

It’s a holding bay—a handful of boxes are scattered around, their heavy plastic lids strapped tight. Bolted storage units line one wall, and a short staircase leads upward, into the space Xisuma can only assume is the main cabin of whoever that figure was.

Xisuma blinks.

Exonia enters.

Enters is a loose term, because as his foot steps onto the metal-ribbed platform, Xisuma feels something crawl it’s way up his spine and turns, much too fast, Ex’s name already jumping from his throat.

There’s a crackle, like the sound of fireworks in the distance, as the sky fills with soft purple light. Xisuma alone watches the figure turn, a large, dark object cradled in their arms, and feels them stare back. Distance and the helm obscuring most of their face doesn’t do their features justice—it looks like a man, a human, staring back at him, eyes wide and bright, expression unreadable from here. All Xisuma knows is that the chill starts at the base of his neck and pulls through him, catching his lungs and heart and spine all the way down, hooking him in place.

“Xisuma—” Exonia starts, tone bordering on impatient, but as they turn, they see exactly what they did. And they say again, their voice taking a fine, fearful edge:

“Xisuma.”

The figure starts toward them, and X can feel the immediate betrayal of all his senses, all at once, as his hackles raise, body recoiling until his feet hit the cold metal of the ship behind him. Exonia grabs his arm as he stumbles from the platform, tugging him away from the ship as the figure starts to close the distance between them. The man is carrying the dragon egg, much too large for his arms as he calls out to them.

“Hey! Wait! Wait!” The man calls. Xisuma stutters as he tries to scramble away, skittering to a stop at the man’s plea. As he turns to look over his shoulder, against all better judgment, he realizes the man has crouched by the entry door, egg still in his arms. The beat between the man stopping, dropping to a crouch to make himself small, and his next words is a rift Xisuma considers just jumping into. He wills a small, shaky breath into his lungs. The man sets the egg at his feet, hands spread.

“Are you okay?” he asks, breath evening as he stills for a moment. “I didn’t mean to scare you away. The dragon looked pretty dangerous!”

Xisuma blinks, breathing hard. Exonia manages to summon the courage he can’t seem to even taste, voice coming small from beside him.

“Who are you?” they muster. The man dips his head.

“I’m sorry for scaring you,” he says slowly. “I’m Keralis. Are you two from here?”

Xisuma shakes his head. The man, Keralis, nods.

“Are you lost? Do you need help going home?”

Xisuma offers a nod this time.

“Do you… know where home is?”

There’s a beat. The silence stretches on in the absence of anyone’s voice or actions, until Ex finally says:

“Not anymore. ‘S too far.”

Keralis doesn’t say anything for a moment. He stares instead down at the egg in his arms, the only expression on his face evident by his eyes through his visor. Xisuma watches him, trying to read that expression and coming up blank. It doesn’t look malicious, though. He’s begun to settle from the razor’s edge of nervousness and back down into a sense of normalcy.

“I don’t want to leave you here. I…” Keralis hums. “I can take you back with me. And then maybe there will be someone who can help you get home, how about that?”

“Where’re you from?” Exonia asks. Keralis smiles—Xisuma can tell by the squint of his eyes.

“I’m from a ship. A spaceship in the sky.”

#xisumavoid #xisuma #evil xisuma #evil x #minecraft space exploration au #mse au #hermitcraft #hermitcraft au #hermitcraft fic #mcyt #mcyt fic #mcytblr aufest 2024 #mcyt au fest 2024 #mcyt au #text #fics #woah rare tuna w actually posting what's GOOD. WE BAAAALL #gosh HUGE shoutout to tetris guys. they're such a sweet person #i dmed him the day i got the pinch hit like hiii heyy ummm. how can i help :>#and since then they've been so awesome about explaining the au and walking me through ideas for the fic #and it really spawned into something i'm so proud of #it was such a fun au to explore #especially considering i'm writing an xisuma space au LOL #i saw the hit and immediately dmed like four people like. i need to pick this up. this is my chance #KJHSKFJGH seriously though #SUCH a blast this year #so excited to see what my other mutuals have done! i know y'all have things in the works pspspsp

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becausebuckley · 5 months ago

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tidbit tuesday

it's tuesday somewhere in the world still! i was tagged by @inell, thank you!! here's another bit of my baby DO get greedy fic wherein eddie doesn't quite realise how okay buck is with things like cuddling now that they're dating. the answer is very okay. buck loves it. eddie needs to figure that out still. he'll get there eventually lol i promise tagging you! yes you! i've tagged you!

When Eddie wakes, he’s more comfortable than he’s ever been. The new comforter is soft against his skin, there’s a perfect band of pressure wrapped around his waist, and the pillow underneath his cheek is just the right density. Eddie thinks Buck was wrong about him needing to replace his pillows, because this doesn’t feel wrong at all. It feels kind of perfect, actually. He lazily rubs his cheek against it, sighing in contentment.

“Good morning to you too,” a voice says from somewhere above his head. Eddie doesn’t really register at first, but then his pillow moves, and there’s a soft pressure on his head, and everything clicks into place all at once.

Buck.

“Morning,” Eddie says back, already working to untangle himself. It turns out to be a rather difficult task, considering he’s wrapped up in both a blanket cocoon and a boyfriend who isn’t really cooperating.

“Hey, are you okay?” Buck sounds confused. Eddie has pulled back enough to be able to see his face. The remnants of a blissful expression are fading away, a hazy smile being replaced with a frown. Eddie wants to do something about it, kiss it away or smooth his fingers over it, let them linger on Buck’s birthmark, maybe, but he can’t. It’s already too much.

#eddie diaz #evan buckley #buddie #911 abc #michelle writes #tag game #i really like all the tidbit tuesdays and seven sentence sundays and stuff #my previous fandom didn't do too many of those little writing tag games #but they're so fun!#i love reading bits of everyone's works and sharing my own #good times #i really need to come up with a better title for this fic though lmao #fic: from your heart to your fingertips

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daisybell-on-a-carousel · 7 months ago

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It had started because some people had misheard something Phantom said. One singular letter was responsible for the mess he was in right now.

They thought Phantom had said "Dad"

He had not, not this time at least, he was, admittedly, rather prone to accidentally calling Jack "Dad" because the man actually was. Though those moments were nothing compared to this.

It had spread like wildfire throughout the school, and then the city as a whole. Phantom had a dad, a dad who was visiting next week. That's what they knew, and theories and questions were already abound. Was Phantom's dad alive? Or dead too? What was their relationship like? Was this mysterious dad Phantom's blood (ectoplasm?) father? Or was Phantom adopted? How similar were they?

Dan just laughed at Danny over the phone when he tried explaining the situation to his older self before he came by to visit.

#danny phantom #i was going to make a proper fic but um. i couldn't choose a direction to go in with it. so heres just me writing down the concept ndksnsks #i just think Dan pretending to be Danny Phantom's dad would be really funny #obv they look similar. maybe people'll assume the DP logo is some sort of family symbol lol #honestly this could work post or pre agit. though the bit here is written as post #pretending not even necessary people could just assume. the “family drama” thatd ensue from a pre agit Dan who is Very Much trying to kill #would be very fun i think #and he'd most certainly play along if he was aware of the assumption #anyway daisybell stop making dp posts at midnight am to inevitably wake up and hate how they're worded challenge impossible

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worldsokayestdragon · 1 month ago

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GreedxLing Week Day 1: Love Language

Read on AO3

Returning to Xing wasn't what Ling had expected when he'd left home all those months ago. So much had changed, it was hard to believe it had been less than a year since the first time he'd trekked through the desert with Lan Fan and Fu in tow, planning out his first steps for finding the philosopher’s stone and considering the best way to trick the emperor into believing he held the key to immortality for long enough for Ling to maneuver himself into power. Fu had advised him not to get too far ahead of himself, but Ling had refused to even entertain the notion that he might return empty handed. His clan was counting on him. Failure wasn't an option.

Now they were making the return trip with the Chang Clan heiress and a homunculus who until very recently had been coinhabiting Ling’s body.

Lan Fan had lost her arm, and as guilty as Ling felt for dragging her into the fight that had claimed it, she wouldn’t let him apologize. She insisted it was her choice, and one she’d gladly make again, and he knew her well enough to recognize that if he kept feeling sorry for her she…probably wouldn’t actually punch him in the face–because that would be improper and against her vow to protect him–but she would be seriously tempted to do so. He didn’t mention it again.

And they were returning without Fu.

They were bringing him home, of course they were. They could hardly do otherwise. But it was only his remains making the journey in the urn Lan Fan insisted on carrying herself, carefully checking and repacking it every time they stopped to rest. The old man himself would never again walk at Ling’s shoulder and offer advice that Ling was often too stubborn and foolish to take.

Ling wished they could have stayed in Amestris a bit longer. Just to take some time to heal and rest, to adjust to everything. But the emperor’s health wouldn’t hold forever, and if one of his siblings ascended to the throne before Ling’s return then everything would be for nothing. And Lan Fan’s new automail made it crucial to get across the desert before the summer heat could settle in and threaten to burn her.

Most importantly, Fu needed to be laid to rest properly, with full rites instead of the stopgap cremation ritual that Lan Fan had been taught as a child–because the life of a royal bodyguard was dangerous and often took one far from home to die. To truly let his spirit rest, Fu needed a real funeral. Getting that done as soon as possible was the least Ling owed to the man who had been like family to him, closer and more beloved than most of his blood relatives.

If Ling thought about that for too long he’d break down, and then Lan Fan would feel obligated to try and comfort him even though she’d lost so much more than he had. He couldn’t do that to her. He had to stay strong.

So he focused on easier things, like getting to know Mei Chang, and adjusting to Greed having a separate body.

The fact that bonding with the little sister he’d been raised to regard as an annoying obstacle at best, and a credible threat to his life at worst, qualified as “easier” was a testament to how out of control his life had gotten.

The fact that he felt the need to adjust to not sharing his body with the personification of a deadly sin was probably evidence that he’d gone completely insane.

He didn’t really know how to interact with either of them.

Mei didn’t seem to know how to interact with him either. She switched between regarding him with a suspicion that bordered on outright hostility, as she’d no doubt been taught to act around any competing heir, and a starry eyed admiration that came with repeated thanks for promising to protect her clan and offers to help him with anything he needed that frankly made Ling more uncomfortable than when she looked like she wanted to stab him. He didn’t know how to convince her that his commitment to bringing together all the clans was genuine and not dependent on her sucking up to him.

Also her tiny panda had bitten him like five times, and he didn’t heal as quickly as he used to.

And Greed. Greed was the same as he’d always been, probably, but Ling wasn’t used to observing him from the outside. He knew what the homunculus was thinking and feeling in any situation still, could make his stupid sarcastic jokes in unison with him most of the time, but that was just the knowledge of familiarity. He couldn’t hear the outline of Greed’s thoughts the way he used to, or feel the echoes of his emotions. And Ling was starting to realize that for as good as they’d gotten at communicating, their mental conversations maybe hadn’t been much like talking, because he found it difficult to put anything he wanted to say to Greed into words.

He wanted to say so much to Greed. He wanted to reassure him that they could still rule Xing together even if they were separate people now. Wanted to ask if Greed still wanted that, or if he’d rather find something of his own, even if Ling was scared of the answer to that question. He wanted to scream at Greed for being an idiot and trying to sacrifice himself, for lying to him, for almost leaving him behind. He wanted to beg Greed to never do that again, because Ling needed him, and missed him even when he was still here, and he didn’t know how he’d ever recover if Greed left him entirely.

Ling wanted to tell Greed he loved him, and that he thought Greed loved him too, thought he had felt it when Greed shoved Ling away to protect him at the cost of his own life.

But now that Greed was in his own body, looking like his old self and also an entirely new person to Ling, it was hard to be confident that he still felt the same, or even that he’d ever felt that way at all. Maybe Ling had been projecting, the confusion and emotion of that moment overwhelming him and making him feel what he wanted to feel from Greed.

Certainly Greed hadn’t said anything to indicate he felt that way toward Ling since Lan Fan had flung the philosopher’s stone she’d been carrying into the homunculus’s dissipating form and–in an alchemic reaction that Ed said “made no sense” and “gave him a headache”–Greed’s body from before he’d been merged with Ling reformed around him.

Greed had let Ling scream at him for lying, and being a self sacrificing idiot, and scaring him, had let shove him and also let Ling cling to him and tell him to never do anything like that again.

He’d apologized for hurting Ling, but notably didn’t say he was sorry for what he’d done or promise not to do it again. Ling had been a little tempted to stab him then, but he wasn’t sure how many times the incomplete philosopher’s stone inside him could heal him back up. He didn’t want to risk losing him again. (And, Greed had pointed out later, they’d need to “do the hammer trick” at least once to prove to the emperor that Greed was immortal. Ling had vague, second hand memories of “the hammer trick,” and he was sure they could come up with something a little less traumatizing.)

But other than the apology, Greed hadn’t really talked much to Ling after coming back to life. He didn’t even say that he planned to come back with them, just fell in step beside Ling as they headed out and asked how long it would take to get to Xing.

So Ling couldn’t know if Greed felt the way he did, and the thought of being wrong, of ruining the relationship they did have, kept him from asking. Every big, important thing Ling wanted to say to Greed got caught in his throat.

Greed didn’t say anything either. Sometimes it seemed like he was about to. Ling knew him well enough to tell when he was working up to being honest in a way that wasn’t just not telling a lie, a way that was hard for him, but he never followed through.

But even though they were completely failing to talk to each other, even though the silence was awkward and painful at times when Ling thought about how easily they’d talked and joked before, he couldn’t bring himself to leave Greed’s side for long. They were rarely out of arm’s reach of each other. Most often they stayed so close that Ling thought if it was anyone else he’d be freaked out by the invasion of his personal space.

It never felt like an invasion when it was Greed literally breathing down Ling’s neck, walking so close to each other it was frankly a miracle they didn’t trip over each other’s feet, sitting practically in each other’s laps by the campfire when the chill of the desert night set in. They’d given up the pretense of settling into separate bedrolls after the second time they’d woken up wrapped around each other in the sand between two unused piles of blankets.

But for all that easy closeness, they still barely talked.

Ling couldn’t bring himself to talk to Greed, and he didn’t know how to talk to Mei, and Lan Fan never liked to talk about things before she’d had a chance to process them on her own, so Ling hardly dared to interrupt her grief with conversation. It was shaping up to be the most awkwardly silent trip in history.

Except actually Greed and Mei seemed to have no trouble talking to each other. Half the time the homunculus wasn’t right beside Ling it was because he’d walked off to talk to his little sister. She wasn’t nearly as standoffish with Greed, and he apparently had plenty to say to her. They got along great, other than the first time they’d talked, when Mei had squealed “Mister Greed, that’s so—” and Ling had never found out what that was so because Greed had clapped a hand over the girl’s mouth and hissed something at her, ignoring Xiao-Mei biting his hand in retaliation.

Since then they had quiet conversations that cut off when Ling approached basically every day, and any time Ling asked Greed what they were talking about he just said “don’t worry about it,” or sometimes “wouldn’t you like to know,” which was the type of nonanswer he only gave when he wanted to keep something to himself without technically lying.

Ling watched the two of them conspiring or plotting or whatever it was they were doing, and had to firmly remind himself that he was not jealous of a thirteen-year-old who’d been forced to travel to a foreign country alone in a desperate bid to save the clan she was too young to bear responsibility for.

No matter how easily she got to talk to Greed.

Other than talking to Mei, the only times Greed left Ling’s side was when he’d seen something on the ground he wanted to investigate.

That at least was familiar. Ling remembered spending the winter trekking through Amestris, and how often Greed wandered off the trail to pick up a shiny rock or a weird shaped stick or a bottle cap with an interesting logo to shove in their pocket. Ed griped at him constantly for wasting time picking up trash, but that had never stopped Greed.

What was weird now was that Greed always looked at whatever he picked up critically instead of pocketing it and rejoining the group immediately. He twisted the objects this way and that, examined them in the light, and most of the time he dropped them again as if he’d found them lacking.

Maybe admitting to himself that what he really wanted was people to care for had eased his compulsion to collect whatever caught his eye.

(Maybe having Ling around was enough, even if it wasn’t the same as it had been. Maybe he was satisfied to have a friend, and Ling could be satisfied with that too, even if neither of them ever made a move to make it something more. Or maybe that was wishful thinking.)

The first time Greed found something that met his new standards, it was nearing sunset on their first day in the desert between Amestris and Xing. Greed split off from the group and came back with a rock worn smooth by the blowing sands. The sunlight shone on the rock’s surface, and revealed little clusters of sparkles when Greed twisted it at the right angle. In different lighting it would probably look like an unremarkable gray lump, but it was beautiful in the moment. Ling understood why Greed decided to pick it up.

He didn’t understand why, instead of shoving it in his own pocket as usual, Greed held it out for Ling.

“Here,” he said, looking at Ling expectantly. “Take it.”

“Um, okay?”

Ling held out his hand and Greed tipped the rock into it. It was smooth as marble, and warm from lying in the sun. It fit perfectly in Ling’s palm. He absently ran his thumb over the surface as he looked back at Greed.

Greed had a concerningly smug look on his face.

Suddenly suspicious, Ling asked, “Are you trying to make me carry your stuff so you can pick up even more rocks?”

The smug smile disappeared from Greed’s face.

“No, It’s–ugh nevermind!”

Ling watched, bemused, as Greed stomped away, as much as anyone could stomp over shifting sand, to talk to Mei. The girl patted him comfortingly on the arm and shot Ling a dirty look that he didn’t know what he’d done to deserve.

Ling tucked the rock carefully into his pocket for safekeeping, and then hurried to catch up with Lan Fan and offer to help her find a good campsite.

A few days later, as they were approaching an oasis midway between the Amestran border and the ruins of Xerxes, Greed once again found something he deemed worthy of hanging on to.

The oasis was one of the better documented sources of water on the journey through the desert and trade caravans came through the area regularly. They’d been seeing little bits and bobs that must have fallen off a wagon throughout the day. Greed had stopped to investigate most of it, but only found one thing he actually liked.

Once again, Greed carried his find over to Ling, this time keeping whatever it was closed in his fist as he offered it.

“Here. I want you to keep this. Not carry it for me.”

“...Right.” Ling decided not to comment on Greed’s weird behavior, instead just holding out his hand under Greed’s

A ring dropped into Ling’s palm, a black band set with a purple gemstone almost the exact color of Greed’s eyes.

The stone was fake, Ling could tell right away. He didn’t know if Greed couldn’t tell or just didn’t care. For all his talk about appreciating the finer things, Greed didn’t actually put much stock into how expensive or high quality anything was, perfectly content with costume jewelry as long as it was suitably flashy.

This ring actually wasn’t nearly as gaudy as Greed’s tastes normally ran. It black band was simple, etched with a subtle geometric pattern that was only visible up close. The single stone was large, but not ridiculously so, not something that was deliberately ostentatious.

Ling actually liked it, and maybe it was unbecoming of a future Emperor of Xing, but Ling found he didn’t care much more than Greed did about having only expensive belongings just to prove he could afford them.

Greed shifted anxiously, and Ling realized he’d been silently staring at the ring for long enough for it to get uncomfortable.

“Thank yo–”

“We must hurry, my lord.” Lan Fan called, interrupting Ling’s thanks. “We need to reach the oasis before sundown if we hope to replenish our supplies tonight and get an early start tomorrow.”

Ling knew most people would think she sounded perfectly respectful, as befitted a bodyguard speaking to her master. But he also knew her well enough to hear how annoyed she was getting with the hold up.

“Coming Lan Fan!” he called. Turning to Greed he added, “We’d better go before she decides to stab you.”

Greed looked a little disappointed, but nodded, easily matching Ling’s pace as they began to walk again.

“Yeah, you’re right. I don’t really want to fight her.”

“Because you don’t fight women?” Ling asked.

Greed hummed in agreement and Ling rolled his eyes.

“That’s such an old fashioned attitude. She could beat you easily, especially if you do that thing where you refuse to use your full shield until you’re already losing.”

Greed looked at Ling like he was stupid.

“Of course she could. She’s insane. I guess you never met my ‘sister’ before she bit the dust, but she was fucking terrifying. And Martel was–” Greed cut himself off, looked away for a moment before clearing his throat and continuing. “Ed’s teacher took out my whole crew single handedly once. That Winry girl’s not even a fighter and she tossed us and Darius and Heinkel and those two Briggs guys out of her room like it was nothing. Not to mention your little sister being–”

“Wait,” Ling interrupted Greed’s list. “Are you saying you’re ‘not the kind of guy who fights women’ because you think all women can kick your ass?”

“I don’t think all women can kick my ass,” Greed argued. “I just think women who like to fight are more likely to kick my ass than men, which is not fun for me, and women who don’t fight probably have no idea how to because of stupid human gender rolls, so I’d feel shitty for beating them up. Also the one time I tried to fight Lust she backed me into a corner and slashed my arms off like ten times in a row while saying I should never hit a lady, so. Don’t really want to do that again.”

Ling burst out laughing as they hurried to catch up with Lan Fan, and ignored Greed’s protests about his reasoning making perfect sense.

He slipped the ring onto his finger as they walked.

He didn’t miss Greed’s pleased smile.

They reached Xerxes before midday, and decided to rest there and head out again the next morning.

Greed announced that he was going to take a look around the place. When Ling stood to go with him he added that he wanted to go alone.

Ling tried to hide his hurt and disappointment at that. He had thought they’d been getting a little more comfortable around each other the last few days.

He must not have succeeded, because Greed suddenly looked panicked and added, “I mean alone for now! We can go together later, that would be cool. But you should…rest! Because you need more of that than me. And you should let me find places that are safe to explore first since you’re all human now and…squishy.” He winced at his own word choice. “Okay, see you later, bye!”

Greed all but fled from where they’d settled in the shade of a ruined building, and Ling watched him go.

Greed was being very weird since the Promised Day. Well, he was always weird, but now it was obvious even to Ling, who’d mostly gotten used to his baseline bizarre behavior.

Greed almost never said what he meant, for all that he didn’t lie, but he was normally way smoother at talking his way around things. Smooth enough that he could even fool himself into believing his bullshit.

And Ling couldn’t figure out why Greed kept giving him stuff. Sure, his whole “I want everything” routine was just a cover for the fact that he couldn’t even admit to himself that he just wanted friends. Ling was able to tell that almost right away, once they joined up with Ed and he let himself think of Greed as something other than an enemy he had to resist.

But he’d never picked up on any real inclination to give things away, no matter how much he cared about the people around him more than he’d ever let on. He also liked having stuff. And yet he hadn’t kept any of the things he’d picked up on their journey.

Ling could hear Greed make his way through the ruined city streets. He was not gifted in stealth, much to the dismay of their traveling companions when they’d been trying to evade the Amestran military over the long months of winter.

It sounded like he was digging through the rubble and flipping stones too big for a human hands to easily move. Ling wondered what he hoped to find. The place had been abandoned for generations. Then again, most people left it alone rather than ransacking it, out of respect for the terrible tragedy that had happened here, so maybe there was something worth finding.

Ling was considering whether he should tell Greed to stop rifling through the remains of a dead civilization when Greed made a triumphant noise and the sounds of digging through rubble stopped, replaced by the sounds of sprinting back towards the rest of them.

Greed audibly stopped running just around the corner of their makeshift shelter and then strolled casually into sight. Ling very kindly refrained from laughing at the terrible attempt at acting like he hadn’t been rushing back. Mei had to turn away and disguise her giggles as a cough, and Lan Fan didn’t bother to hide her judgemental stare.

Greed looked a little excited and a little nervous as he walked over to Ling, though Ling wasn’t sure if someone who hadn’t spent a few months inside Greed’s head would be able to see that through the false air of confidence he’d put on. He was holding something behind his back.

Greed stopped directly in front of Ling and said, “I found this for you,” before all but shoving the hidden object into Ling’s hands.

It was a dagger in a sheath that had maybe once been brightly painted but had long since faded to the barest hints of a pattern. The hilt and cross guards formed elegant curves, and there was a blue jewel inset in the pommel. Ling drew the blade, and though it had long lost its edge, it must have been well made and also incredibly sheltered from the elements wherever Greed had dug it out from, because it was in remarkable condition for how old it must have been. It would probably only need a little bit of maintenance to be usable.

It was a beautiful weapon, but also a practical one, lacking in the tacky extra spikes and jagged edges that Ed liked to give things, and that Greed had often praised as looking “pretty sweet.” It was obvious that Greed had picked it with Ling’s tastes in mind.

“Thank you,” Ling breathed. “It’s perfect. I love it.”

He looked up from the blade to find Greed grinning at him, somewhere between elated and self satisfied.

“I don’t have anything for you,” Ling added, suddenly feeling guilty for taking so many gifts from Greed without offering something in return. “I could go find–”

“You don’t have to,” Greed interrupted, still smiling. “I mean, you can if you want. You know I’ll never say no to a present. But you don’t have to. I didn’t give it to you so you’d give me something.”

“Why did you, then?” Ling asked.

The smile slipped off of Greed’s face, but before Ling could freak out about making him sad, Lan Fan and Mei both groaned in frustration, in a display of synchronicity that Ling didn’t think boded well for his future well being.

“Ling Yao, you are so stupid!” Mei exclaimed. She sounded less hostile than he might have expected with that statement. Her tone almost reminded him of when Al would sometimes despair over what an idiot his big brother was.

“He’s not the only problem,” Lan Fan argued. “Greed, you need to stop acting like a child and use your words.”

Ling was officially lost. He looked between his three companions in hopes of finding a clue to what was happening, and was completely disappointed in that hope.

“Lan Fan, do you know what’s going on?” Ling asked.

“Of course I do!” she snapped before taking a deliberate breath and continuing in something closer to her normal calm and respectful way of speaking to him. Ling could still clearly hear her holding herself back from calling him an idiot.

“Ling, you are my prince, my lord, my future emperor. I would follow you anywhere, I would kill and die for you, and I know you will be a good king to our people. But I cannot deal with this foolishness another second. It was a nice distraction at first, but it’s gone on for far too long.”

She turned away from him to speak to Mei. “I'm going for a walk. Would you like to join me, Princess?”

“Yes, actually,” Mei chirped, hopping to her feet. “ I wanted to take a look around and see if I could find any surviving records of the types of alchemy that were studied here. Hopefully something that doesn’t involve human sacrifice for a change.”

“Wait,” Greed said, sounding slightly panicked. “Mei, you said you wanted to help me.”

“I did want to help you, mister Greed, but Lan Fan’s right. This is taking too long. You two need to sort this out before we get back, or we’re kicking both of your butts, okay?”

Lan Fan, alarmingly, did not object to the idea of Mei kicking Ling’s butt, and instead calmly walked away with the younger girl.

Ling looked back at Greed, who was staring after Mei like a man lost at sea watching his last hope of rescue disappear over the horizon.

“Do you know what we're supposed to be working out?” Ling asked, watching Greed's attention snap to him in a wide eyed stare. “Because I really don't want to get beat up by my little sister and my best friend. Actually, I think I liked it better when they hated each other.”

“Right,” Greed said. He took a deep breath and shook his arms out, his expression settling into something more calm and confident that was almost convincing. “I can use my words, no problem. I don't act like a child.”

“Of course,” Ling agreed, trying to sound encouraging.

Privately he had his doubts. This sounded like it was going to be a serious conversation, and while Greed has many strengths and good qualities, the ability to talk about serious things–or gods forbid his own emotions–was not one of them. He hadn't even been able to tell the difference between wanting world domination and wanting friends until Ling spelled it out for him.

Ling thought he might know what this was about, or hoped he did anyway. But he wouldn't push. If he was wrong it would be awful, and if he was right then it was best to let Greed try and get it out on his own time.

“I want–I mean I–you’re so–” Greed cut himself with a muttered curse. “Let me start over?”

“Sure. Take your time.”

Greed took a few more breaths, looking everywhere but at Ling, before seeming to gather the nerve to continue.

“I want to rule Xing with you,” Greed said in a rush, so fast Ling could hardly make out the words. “I mean, if that offer's still on the table. If I didn't screw it up forever with the lying to you and almost dying and making you waste that philosopher's stone to save my ass. I really hope I didn't screw it up?”

That wasn't exactly what Ling had wanted to hear, but it was still good. It meant Greed wanted to stay with him, and Ling wanted to rule Xing together too. That could be enough. It really could.

He refused to let himself be disappointed.

“You didn't screw anything up,” he reassured. “Of course the offer still stands. I thought that was obvious when you decided to come back with us.”

Greed shook his head. “No–well yes, but. What I mean is…we aren't sharing the same body anymore.”

“Yes, I've noticed that.” Ling agreed slowly, once again lost as to what Greed was even talking about.

“Right. Of course you have. Obviously.” Greed waved his hand vaguely, as if shooing away Ling’s comment. “So, now we’re two different people. I mean we always were, but like, legally or whatever. And, you know, normally if two different people are ruling a country together it’s because they’re together. I guess usually married, technically.”

Oh.

That was actually a bit more than Ling had been hoping for, to be honest. But Greed never did anything halfway.

Before Ling could say anything, Greed’s mind visibly caught up with his mouth. His face turned a very interesting shade of red.

“Wait, no, that’s not what I–” Greed waved both hands in the space between them, like he could maybe catch and take back the words. “I don’t mean we should get married right now! Or ever, if you don’t want. We really haven’t known each other that long, even if it feels like I’ve known you forever. I just meant–I really want to stay with you, and not just because I want to rule a country. So maybe we could date? Or something? God, I sound like an idiot! Forget I said anything, I’m just gonna go dig a hole and bury myself for a few hours. Or years.”

Greed turned away, and Ling just managed to shake himself out of his shock in time to catch his hand before he could make a break for it.

Greed could have pulled away easily. There was no way Ling, who was back to being an ordinary human, could have held a homunculus who really didn’t want to stay put. But Greed didn’t pull away. Instead he stopped like he was rooted to the ground. He looked down at where their hands were joined between them, then twisted his so he could interlock their fingers.

Ling couldn’t stop the huge smile growing across his face, no doubt completely goofy and undignified, and not even serving a purpose like the ones he used to put on for his airheaded prince act. He didn’t really care.

“I don’t think you sound like an idiot,” Ling said. “I want to stay with you not just to rule a country too.”

Greed eyes darted up from their hands to look searchingly at Ling’s face. “Really?” He asked.

Of course, for all Greed’s blustering self aggrandizement, he really didn’t think very highly of himself. Ling might be the only one to know the truth of that, so he knew how hard it must have been for Greed to come out and say that he wanted to be with Ling, without even hiding behind some convoluted speech about wanting to own him.

It gave Ling the courage to do something hard himself.

“Yes, really. Couldn’t you feel it when we were sharing a body?” Ling really hadn’t thought he’d been subtle, but Greed just tilted his head in question. “Greed, I love you.”

Greed gasped, looking at Ling like he’d just performed a miracle. He raised his free hand and gently, almost hesitanty, cupped the side of Ling’s face.

“I–” Greed started, and then gave up trying to talk in favor of leaning forward and kissing Ling.

It was a chaste kiss, just a brush of their lips really, and Ling wasn’t sure if Greed was being considerate for his comparative lack of experience, or if the vulnerability of the moment had made the homunculus feel uncertain in the action himself.

Either way, that simple press of lips felt amazing, electric in a way it maybe didn’t have any right to. A part of Ling would probably always miss the closeness of sharing his body with Greed, but now he realized that having their own bodies opened up a lot of exciting new possibilities.

All too soon, Greed pulled away again. He stared into Ling’s eyes, looking every bit as dazed and happy as Ling felt.

“I love you too,” Greed said, his voice barely above a whisper but the only thing Ling could hear.

Greed’s new old body was taller, and Ling had to reach up to wrap a hand around the back of his head and tug him down into another, deeper kiss. But Greed leaned back in so easily he barely had to pull, so that was okay.

Eventually they’d need to talk more, about what they both wanted, about how to frame their relationship to the emperor and the people of Xing so it wouldn’t hurt their chances at the throne. But all of that could wait. For now, Ling was more than happy to let the world fall away as he stood in the ruined city and kissed the man he loved.

When the girls returned to find them like that, Mei seemed torn between finding the romance sweet and being disgusted by her brother kissing someone. She landed on disgusted, sticking her tongue out and saying, “Blech! Do that somewhere else!” before flopping down next to her bags and pulling out a notebook, presumably to take note of whatever alchemical oddities she’d spotted on her walk.

Lan Fan still looked tired and sad, and probably would for a long time yet, but when she smiled at Ling he could tell it was genuine. “I’m happy for you, young lord,” she said, and her voice sounded lighter than he’d heard it since before she cut off her arm.

So much had changed since he’d set off for Amestris nearly a year ago, and Ling had lost things he would never get back. But he’d gained more than he’d ever thought to dream as well.

As he sat in the ruins of the city whose destroyer they had helped defeat, with his best friend, the little sister he never thought he’d be allowed to care for, and the love of his life by his side, Ling thought he’d be ready for whatever changes the future might hold.

#greedxlingweek2024 #fma #greed fma #ling yao #greedling #i love these idiots #write a freaking story without thousands of words of introspection up front challenge level impossible #I was like oh i'll just do a quick lil thing about greed's love language being gift giving #thats fun and ironic but also suits him #I guess they'd need to be in separate bodies for it to really work though. ill set it on the return trip to Xing in an AU where greed #got his old body back after the self sacrifice attempt #but then i had to address all the emotional baggage and trauma theyd have at that point #before i could convince my brain to write the dang prompt #your honor in my defense i am simply a yapper #writing a version of greed who has been forced to confront the mortifying ordeal of being known and admit that he wants friends is fun #because he cant hide behind 'ooh im so evil and badass and i want to own you all' anymore #and ive decided hed be incredibly bad and awkward at that #hes got no practice!#ive never written lings pov before #not sure if i got his voice right #ive also never written them separated like this before #i prefer when they're sharing a body usually. ill probably stick them back together for the rest of the week #anyway these tags have gotten out of hand and i need to go to bed #enjoy the greedling!

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paimonial-rage · 7 months ago

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type - heizou [random writing event] | requested by @ebi-samaaa

Shikanoin Heizou really wasn’t your type. Sure he was handsome, and yes, his voice was rather nice to listen to. His flirtatious nature was definitely attractive. If only his face wasn’t so childish looking. And if only he weren’t just a little bit taller. Really, it really was a shame. If it were not for those things, he would have stolen your heart right off the shelves.

And really, it truly was such a shame, for the man was desperately in love with you. Completely head over heels one could say. No matter how many times you tried to shake him off, he chased after you relentlessly. He wanted you with such a passion that you often had to stop your heart from skipping a beat whenever your thoughts inevitably lead toward him.

As you walked down the long hallways of Tenshukaku, you wondered if you’d see him this evening. It was the night of the full moon, after all. Wouldn’t it be such a romantic backdrop to highlight the excitement of the event you were soon to partake? He surely wouldn’t leave you hanging, would he? You did send him an invitation, after all.

So as you stepped into the central room, you couldn’t mask the smile that curled the corners of your lips. It was empty, not that you were very surprised. If you planned it right, the Tenryou Commission and its soldiers were currently occupying the Hiiragi complex on high alert. All that work only for their honored guest of the evening to be a no show. How sad, but it really wasn’t your fault they didn’t know how to read a calling card.

With a soft chuckle, you gazed fondly at the pedestal at the center of the room. There, sitting upon plush velvet, was your target for the evening—a slightly faded black pearl inlaid in a silver ring. It didn’t take you long to pluck it up from its stand to slide over your finger. And, oh, how the luster shined in the moonlight. But as much as you wished to lose yourself in its beauty, duty came calling.

“My my, Detective,” you crooned sweetly, “We really must stop meeting like this.”

A laugh came from behind.

“I gotta hand it to you. When you said you’d be targeting the Evening Moon’s Jewel on a night like this, not even I thought you’d come for the New Moon.”

You spun and leaned against the pedestal with a careless huff.

“Oh come now, Detective,” you cried with a mocking pout. “It shouldn’t have taken you very long to notice the Hiiragi’s Full Moon pearl is nothing better than an elaborate fake. You should be thanking me for giving you a little excitement on such a boring evening.”

He smiled as he took a step forward, his stance purposely relaxed.

“Thank you for breaking the law? We’ve known each other for so long. I must say I’m hurt.”

You grinned cheekily.

“Oh, don’t say that. I was only joking. I was looking ever so forward to meeting you this evening. I really don’t get to see you as often as I would like, you know, so let’s make the most of it, hm?”

And with that anemo powered punch he threw at you soon after, you really hoped he wouldn’t be smart enough to check out the hospital the day after.

#genshin impact #genshin x reader #shikanoin heizou #heizou #shikanoin heizou x reader #heizou x reader #my writing #writing event #request #ebi-samaaa #all of these fics i really want to polish up but i'm like doing my best not to spend more than two hours per fic #this is an idea i've been wanting to do for a while #a lupin to heizou's holmes #if it isn't clear there are two evening moon jewels: the full moon and the new moon #the full moon (owned by the hiiragis) is a white pearl #the new moon (located in tenshukaku) is a black pearl #and if the ending doesn't make sense reader is fully expecting to have a broken bone by the end of the evening #they're willing to forgive him tho because he's their type and is fun haha #i really want to put these fics under readmores but they're like.... too short for that? so it's like this long but not too long post ugh #thank you for the request though!!

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moongothic · 24 days ago

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So the One Piece brand has been doing radio broadcasts called Strawhat Space (/Mugiwara Space) where they bring in voice actors to chitchat about the series etc, most of the episodes they've featured just the main cast but they've started bringing in VAs for other characters too (one episode was Mayumi Tanaka/Luffy and Tomokazu Seki/Lucci, another was the OG three admirals etc) This week's broadcast featured Ryuuzaburo Ootomo and Yuriko Yamaguchi as Crocodile and Miss All Sunday respectively

The promotional images for Strawhat Space have been Extremely Adorable and I know I'm a simp but god, this one is so cute

Now unfortunately, while my Japanese listening comprehension is good enough to follow along your average kids anime where the VAs speak clearly and take their turns, yeah, a radio show where the VAs stumble on their words a little and speak over each other is too hard for me to keep up with (not to mention my vocab just not being suited for this kinda thing)

But, if I didn't completely misunderstand Yuriko at one point, she seemed to mention that she hoped Crocodile would remain in the position of an ally in the story (after having teamed up with Luffy during Impel Down), and like. Yuriko I love you, you so are so right

#Moon posting #OP Meta #Also Yuriko kinda started the broadcast by introducing herself as ''Miss Allday Sunday'' lmao #Ngl I did go looking for this radio broadcast if only because I am a fucking simp and wanted to listen to Ryuuzaburo's voice #HIS VOICE IS GREAT OKAY and I've only heard him in OP and in Digimon doing Vamdemon #So it was unironically really fun to hear his voice when he's just having a casual chat with people #(It seems like you can find unofficial uploads of the radio broadcasts on YouTube p easily if you look up 麦わらスペース)#I can't put into words how sad I am my Japanese isn't good enough to keep up with broadcasts like this though #If I could I'd be writing a translation of the broadcast because there seemed to be interesting conversations but. I just couldn't follow #Like somebody would bring chocolate/candy to the staff at Toei back in the day when they were recording shit for Alabasta #Was it Ryuuzaburo who did it or someone else? Could not make out #No there isn't much a point to this post beyond The Broadcast was a fun listen even if I couldn't understand 2/3rds of it #And I love the illustration for it like. Look at theeeem they're so cuuuuute

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brutal-nemesis · 1 month ago

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E&T: Caught in the Clutches of Lust

No im not sorry for any of this. cope and seethe

Btw I used a line from @painsandconfusion and @wormwriting's degradation starter list that I saved THREE YEARS AGO for this very moment. I am always playing the long game (⊙ˍ⊙)

←Previous - Masterlist

Ingredients: VERY creepy/intimate whumper, implied threat of noncon, a lot of noncon touching (unsexy but right on the edge), implied noncon kiss, unsexy nudity

Shiori?

No, it couldn’t be, she was a world away, she was human, he’d left her waiting by the fountain after the party and she’d moved on and forgotten about him, no reason to follow him here, into the depths of hell, looking exactly like she had the night of the party, jarringly out of place in her pretty dress, smiling at him like he wasn’t a blood-covered, unrecognizable version of himself.

And then he blinked, and all of a sudden it wasn’t Shiori at all, but Lythia, wearing the same yellow bandana that she always did while she was working in the palace gardens, the little black braids of her hair just as beautiful as he remembered. There was no pity in her dark eyes, like there had been the last time he saw her, looking up at him from the crowd while he was chained to that pillar, promising he’d be rescued after it was already too late. Actually seeing her hurt, and Erebus looked away for a moment, just a moment…

When he saw the woman in front of him now, his jaw dropped, eyes widening, his tense, burning hands finally relaxing.

“Come on, let’s get you somewhere safe.”

Her voice was just as he remembered, and she was smiling at him so kindly, her eyes soft, her gloved hand outstretched, she was here to save him, she’d found a way to bring him back, he was too tired and scared and stressed to do anything else besides surrender control to her once again, to take her small hand and follow her blindly towards the fate she’d chosen for him. She was squeezing his still-healing hand tightly in hers, but she could do whatever she wanted with him just as long as she got him out of this place.

“Well, that was easy.”

The voice wasn’t Shiori’s, or Lythia’s, and it certainly wasn’t Neteri’s.

Erebus jumped back, finally seeing the person next to him clearly for the first time. She-they?-smirked at him, bright purple eyes sparkling. Their white hair was long and wavy, partially braided back with impeccable precision. Gold jewelry and a low-cut black dress accentuated their natural beauty, seeming very out of place in this hellish world. Most striking of all, though, was their bright red skin, a shade that was very familiar to Erebus.

This was a lust demon, and she’d lead him right into her lair.

“You-how did-I-”

They laughed, deep and bright, obviously amused by his shock and confusion. “You only saw what your heart wanted you to see, darling. It’s not my fault you turned into a meek little lamb and followed me here.”

Erebus’s face grew hot. “Well I-I…” his wings sank behind him. He’d thought he was about to be saved. Like an idiot. She’d led him away from the bubbling pools and acrid air into a sort of cave, a furnished one at that. But now he was cornered in here, at a disadvantage in the cramped space. He swallowed and changed the topic, hand resting on the pommel of his sword. “Who are you and what do you want with me?”

“Apologies.” She bowed slightly, the sort of bow people gave when they were pretending to show respect during negotiations, but then declared war a few weeks later. “My name is Asmodeum, and really,” they gave him a disapproving look, “I’d rather not fight with you. I heard you’ve defeated Somiaken and Vorath already, but I believe you and I could work something out without coming to blows.” They held their hands up briefly, but the way they watched him made it clear that their guard was still up. “So, tell me your name, now. Unless you’d prefer I just call you darling?”

Erebus very much did not want that, so he complied. “Erebus. But you didn’t really answer my question. What do you want, if not to fight me?”

Asmodeum sighed wistfully. “Well, I can tell that you’re the sort of person who’ll never agree to what I really want, but I believe something can be arranged. You see, I’ve been stuck here for Akumo knows how long with no toys to play with. So, I was thinking-”

“I-I’m not gonna be your toy,” Erebus choked, his throat feeling like it was closing up.

“Ah, ah, ah.” Asmodeum wagged a finger. “Let me finish, dear. I could have my way with you quite easily, you know. It would be oh so effortless to drag you back into my domain proper and throw you into a pool of boiling water or lava and watch the show. However, I think your forced cooperation would make this a little more fun, and it would be nice if you behaved for me. So, if you let me do what I want with you, barring the most intimate acts, I’ll let you kill me once I’ve had my fill.”

“What happens if I don’t say yes?”

Asmodeum casually examined their nails. “I will take you by force and I will defile you.”

“D-defile?! You don’t mean…” Erebus quickly glanced down, and Asmodeum smiled wickedly.

“Oh, I do mean. If you let me play with you, I swear I won’t do anything of the sort. Call it an incentive. So come on, Erebus, get rid of your sword.” Erebus just tightened his grip on it, weighing his options. As much as he didn’t want to let this demon…play with him...did he really have any other options? He was exhausted, and there wasn’t much room in here for him to try and put up a proper fight. And more than anything, he really, really didn’t want to risk being...Despite the anxiety building in his chest, Erebus unbuckled the sword belt around his waist, setting it carefully on the ground.

“Fine. But if you so much as touch me there I’ll-I’ll make you regret it.” How would he do that? He wasn’t sure. But he just-he had to make it clear that he wasn’t surrendering. He was just…agreeing to play along. Just to get a break from fighting. He was okay with this. He’d be fine. He'd been through so much worse.

He'd be fine.

“I promise I won’t cross that boundary, don’t you fret.” Asmodeum walked over to him, kicking his sword out of reach as they took his hand. “First things first, you’re absolutely filthy. Let’s get you cleaned up, shall we?”

Erebus pulled his hand out of her grasp. “I mean, I-I can do that myself,” he muttered. Asmodeum raised an eyebrow.

“I’m sure you can, but I want to wash you, dear. And right now,” she grabbed his hand once more, “I get what I want.” They pulled him along into a bathroom, and he followed reluctantly, feeling an odd sense of familiarity in just going along with this sort of thing. Their threat was certainly a motivator, but that didn’t mean he was going to roll over completely on every little thing, right? He had to make it clear that he wasn’t happy with this, despite agreeing to it. She started filling up the bathtub with water, turning to him with a smile. “Let me strip you now.”

“I-I’d rather-”

“Shhhh.” She placed a finger on his lips, her other hand starting to undo the ties on his shirt. “None of that, dear. I can’t get you all clean if you’re wearing these dirty clothes, now can I?” He looked away as they tugged his shirt off, hoping that they’d-nope, now they were going to try and take off his pants, too.

“You said you weren’t going to-to do that to me.”

“I won’t. But that doesn’t mean you get to keep your clothes on the whole time, you shy little thing. I just won’t touch.” Erebus stifled a whine as she pulled down his pants, and his underwear along with them. “There we go. You can get in now.” He did so, almost jumping into the warm water and crouching down, hugging his knees close and spreading his wings around himself protectively. They gently pushed his wings back, stroking his face as he glared at them with wide eyes. “There’s no use hiding when I’ve already seen everything, silly. I think I’m going to need to get these arms out of the way, hmmm?” They pulled out a pair of manacles, and Erebus’s stomach sank.

“Wait, I won’t resist just-just don’t-”

“Too late for that, Erebus.” She clamped them around his wrists, twisting the chain securely around the faucet. “Besides, you look absolutely darling like that, all helpless. Now, keep those wings out of the way or I’ll pierce them together.” Erebus’s wings sank in defeat, slowly moving back until they were behind him. There wasn’t any winning here, was there? “Good boy.” She grabbed a cup from the countertop and started using it to pour water on him, rinsing away some of the pieces of flesh stuck to his bloodied skin. After she lathered a washcloth with soap, she began to gently clean the dried blood off his face. He screwed his eyes shut, fists clenched as he tried to think about anything else.

Even back when he was a prince, he’d hated being fussed over, preferring to take care of himself when he could. Asmodeum, however, seemed to have no concept of personal space, or just didn’t care. She had to work hard to get through the blood caked over most of his skin, leaning in close, starting with his face before switching to his hair. Their hands slid in, tenderly working through tangled bloody mats and massaging his scalp. He hated how nice it felt, how much it reminded him of the way Lythia always used to play with his hair, forcing himself to open his eyes and look at Asmodeum, to remind himself who was…

Lythia smiled at him sweetly, and Erebus felt his blood run cold. That wasn’t her, no matter what he saw, no matter how he felt. She wasn’t here. She was back home, probably still tending the palace gardens despite the change in management. Did she still think of him as she looked at all the places they used to laugh? Or could she not get the image of him screaming and sobbing up on that podium out of her mind, unable to remember any other version of him than the one he’d left her with? Maybe that’s what he deserved to be remembered as, since he’d hardly thought of her since that day, the memories too painful.

Erebus shuddered when Asmodeum moved to his horns, which were always far more sensitive than they had any right to be. She seemed to be able to tell, continuing to stroke them long after they were clean, and as much as he wanted to ask them to stop, he was afraid it would only encourage them. At the very least, the disconnect between Lythia and his horns was enough to push the thoughts of her out of his mind, and Asmodeum changed back to their normal form.

Her hands finally slid lower, caressing his neck, fingers slipping under his collar, making sure the skin underneath was clean, pressing down against his throat every so often as they did so. It wasn't enough to really choke him, but the message was clear.

They moved onto his shoulders, his wings, his arms, his back. He caught their smile as they saw what his right arm really looked like, and her fingers traced his whip scars as they were uncovered. Dread started to pool in his stomach as she moved to his chest, scrubbing away, revealing-

“Oh, well isn’t this pretty.” They marveled at his brand, stroking the lines of the scar, pausing over his rapidly-beathing heart. “Too bad you’re already owned by someone else, huh? But I suppose they’re not here now, are they?” Erebus just bit his lip, refusing to make eye contact. The thought of his…of Neteri not being here hurt, and, try as he might, he couldn’t help but think of her, of the way she’d always protected him. He wondered how angry she’d get if she saw what was happening to him, or if she could feel now that someone besides her was touching him. He could imagine her bursting in, yelling at Asmodeum to get their hands off of him, unchaining him and letting him cover up before pulling him into a hug-wait wait what was he thinking she’d been his captor she’d hurt him and ripped him into pieces and kept him locked up but she'd promised to save him and he missed her.

“What’s wrong, darling? Is even this too much for you?” Asmodeum brushed away a tear he didn’t realize had been falling with her finger, her skin no longer red, but brown. He couldn't look her in the eye. Not while she wore that face. “Such a sensitive little thing.” Hearing those words in that voice was already bad enough. Erebus tugged at his chains, wishing he could rub away those stupid traitorous tears, because he wasn’t crying about Neteri or Asmodeum or any of this.

Their hands plunged beneath the surface of the blood-clouded water now, and Erebus couldn't stop himself from tensing up as they scrubbed his stomach, glad the parts of him that were previously under clothes weren't as caked in blood as those that weren't. Still, there was enough to clean that she had an excuse for her hands to wander lower still, caressing his hips, his thighs, and now he was trembling, fists clenched, tears dripping even more steadily into the tepid, cloudy water, no one had ever touched him there, at least she was wearing her own face now, but please, please stay away from there, you said you wouldn't touch me there and if you do then why am I here why am I letting you do this why do I keep letting people hurt me if I just stood up for myself more if I wasn't such a coward maybe I'd still be-

"You're rather pathetic, aren't you?" Asmodeum mused as they cradled his face, turning him towards them. Erebus blinked away tears, just now realizing that they'd finished cleaning him, the tub already drained. He couldn't exactly argue, crying and shivering like he was, so he just swallowed and gave the tiniest nod as he pulled himself together, hoping it'd be enough to get them to move on.

With a satisfied smile, she unhooked his wrists from the faucet, but left the manacles on as she pulled him up and out of the tub. He tried to cover himself as best he could as they toweled him off, hoping they’d stop touching him or at least give him clothes soon. Thankfully, they did, handing him a small bundle, and upon unrolling it he found...a pair of shorts that barely reached his knees, and that was all. Once he’d put them on, she dragged him into another room and let go, crossing her arms. “Kneel.”

“I don’t-” Asmodeum raised an eyebrow, and Erebus stopped himself. They were expecting him to obey their every little whim if he didn’t want to be...he knelt, staring at the floor. She circled him a few times, and he clenched his fists in his lap, hating how much of his body was on display. Not that she hadn’t already seen everything.

“You were just made to kneel, weren't you? Absolutely gorgeous." Erebus's face burned even hotter than before. All he could hope was that they'd be done with him soon, but he'd never specified how long this would go on for when he agreed to it, so this might last…He was such an idiot, why did he just go along with this without any negotiation?

Asmodeum stopped in front of him. "Well, what are you in the mood for, dear? Pain,” her hand slid under his chin, tilting it up, “or pleasure?”

“Please just-anything but-” he choked, and she just laughed.

“Anything, you say? Then, I think...I'm in the mood for this.” They grabbed his collar, yanking him up onto the nearby bed. Before he could even try to sit up they were on him, wrapping themselves around him, worming in between his shackled arms, forcing him to embrace her back. A shudder ran down his spine as her skin came into contact with his, her arms pinning him flush against her body, her legs tangling around his. “Have you ever been this close to someone, darling?” she whispered in his ear, their fingers stroking his hair.

“I-I, um, a few times but-”

“Aw, and you’re still nervous.” Her hand ran down the back of his head, stopping at his collar. “It’s so cute how you still wear this. I’m sure you could get it off if you tried, so you must like having it on, huh? Do you miss your owner?”

“She’s not-I don’t-I just-it’s…” he screwed his eyes shut, “I can’t take it off, alright?!”

“Such a dutiful little pet-”

“I wasn’t h-her pet!”

“You’re so adorable when you’re in denial.” They stroked his back, rubbing around the base of his wings. Erebus just opted for staring at the wall, hoping they wouldn't touch his horns. “Do you know how lust demons feed, my dear?”

“By eating…?”

“Well, of course, but not the same way you do. We feed off of humans, more specifically, their bodily fluids.” She smiled widely, showing off her fangs. “And I haven’t had a meal ever since being locked up in here. I normally get my fix a different way, but, to be considerate of you, innocent little boy,” they shifted until their lips were right next to the base of his neck, fingers pushing his collar out of the way, “I’ll settle for feasting on your blood.”

Her fangs sank into his neck, and he couldn’t help but gasp at the sudden pain. He tried to breathe in calmly through gritted teeth as she sucked on the holes in his flesh, drinking his blood. Soon enough, his ears started ringing, and lightheadedness crept in. He gripped the chain between his wrists just too feel something solid, glad that he was lying down, at least. By the time Asmodeum pulled away, licking droplets of blood from their lips, a dizzy haze had settled over Erebus. He closed his eyes, tears leaking out as she snuggled back into him, just hoping that this would all be over soon. In fact, maybe he would just...let the blackness take him...just for a little bit...so he didn’t have to be...awake…

Erebus’s mouth tasted like dried blood when he woke up, and Asmodeum was still wrapped around him tightly. She smiled when their eyes met. “Did you have a good little nap, my darling? I hope you don’t mind, but,” she gripped his chin, her thumb stroking his lips, “I had a little bit of fun with you while you were out of it.” A bit of...wait is that why his mouth tasted like-

“W-you-you can’t d-do that to me I-I don’t-” his voice broke, and he couldn’t breathe all of a sudden, no matter how many fast little breaths he sucked in, just get away, get away from me stop touching me don’t do that to me please please I don’t want that you can’t do that to me you can’t you can’t I never wanted that not from you not from anyone and now now now I-I’m-I’ve been-

He felt something solid press into his hands, and he realized that Asmodeum was standing in front of him, and that was his sword in his hands, he was sitting up now and that was his sword and Asmodeum was smiling they were holding out their arms to him they were ready they were ready they were laughing they were coughing up blood they were on the ground there was so much blood how much of it was his he wasn’t sure he didn’t know they reached up and he backed away he had to get away he couldn’t stay here a second longer she was dead she was dead she was already crumbling away and he had to go he wanted to rip off his own skin he could still feel her touching him where where where were his clothes where was the key to these manacles he had to go he-

Erebus dropped his sword. He fell to his knees. He buried his face in his hands.

And he screamed.

Tags: @dramaticcollapse @thehopelessopus @just-a-whumping-racoon-with-wifi @galaxywhump @as-a-matter-of-whump

@mnmlover2002 @tears-and-lilies @yet-another-heathen @rippedjeansandfadeddreams @starnight-whump

@unicornscotty @thebewilderer @kixngiggles @itallstartedwithharry @inky-whump

@redstainedsocks @lonesome--hunter @his-unspoken-words @susiequaz12 @its-mysweetlittlesecret-blog

@whumpasaurus101 @patheticlittleguy @jadeocean46910 @whumpinggrounds @pumpkin-spice-whump

@suspicious-whumping-egg @befuddled-calico-whump @whump-in-the-closet @pumpkinsncoffee @aryox

@vampiresprite

#i wrote something #erebus & terror #erebus #asmodeum #creepy whumper #intimate whumper #nonhuman whumpee #demon whumper #noncon kiss #noncon touch #can i get a lmao in chat this guy is having the worst time of his life maybe #yeah shiori is human and normal and i meant it when i said they'd never see each other again #bro's neteri devotion is literally getting worse now that they're apart what is he DOING #i cant believe superhell isnt the healing environment he needs to process his trauma 😔#but yeah back when i was still in college and writing like chapters 3-6 ish of E&T (like him getting branded)#i was like ''okay but the bathing scene is soooo fun and sexy i want to write it right now''#so i did and then it sat there for 3 years #it's honestly really weird that it's out in the open now it's been My Secret Writing for SO long #had to make a lot of edits though and i can see how much ive improved since then like yeah let's GUT this bitch #asmodeum fucking sucks. sorry. they are the literal fucking worst #they're also technically genderfluid but since the way they're perceived is based on the person's attraction #erebus just gets female/androgynous vibes cuz he doesn't like men 👍#uh what else oh yeah we had to give him the kissing trauma. rare instance of me projecting write it down kids #god i started the final edit of this at 4:30 and i was like ''yeah i can have it ready by 5''#it's 5:51 you idiot

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the-eclectic-wonderer · 5 months ago

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Ok. I need to talk about S5E23: The Mangiacavallo Curse Makes a Lousy Wedding Present because it's a) a damn good episode and b) so filled with Blanche/Dorothy (and a good pinch of Golden Wives too) I can feel my gay power level increase minute by minute every time I watch it. Under a cut because I (unsurprisingly) got verbose about it.

First of all: the whole thing with Blanche 'lending' one of her men to Dorothy for the wedding. The concept alone is just -- I've said before, several times, that the Girls treat their men as accessories, and this episode just spells it out.

Dorothy doesn't really want a date per se, she's mostly upset because of social expectations:

"I still don't have a date for Jenny's wedding. My own goddaughter, and I'm gonna show up alone."

She's worried because weddings are events where you typically bring a +1 along, especially if you're closely related (either as family or via friendship) to one of the spouses. She's worried about the social norm! This is a bit of a general thing in the series, especially for Dorothy, I think; there are several instances when she's upset at not having a date for a specific event, rather than not dating in general. Plus, she gets over it fairly quickly! Before Blanche agrees to lend her the judge, she tells Sophia that she's just going to go alone!

Speaking of Blanche, look at how she describes her men! Here's some quotes:

"You can borrow one of my extras. What kind of guy would you like?"

"Oh, Dorothy, come on. Borrow one of my men. One of my many, many, many, many, many, many men!"

"Oh, Dorothy, not Doug! I couldn't possibly. He's on my A-list."

"Oh, Dorothy, let me get you somebody hot off my A-list. Somebody tall, good-looking, goes with everything!"

"Don't you forget, you be careful. This man is on loan from the Blanche Devereaux collection."

I mean -- she might as well be talking about a purse or a pair of shoes! (As a side note: yes, all those lines begin with 'Oh, Dorothy'. I checked.)

Dorothy fully embraces this point of view, too:

"You always do this, Blanche. You always keep all the good guys for yourself and you give us the leftovers."

She complains about Blanche's lack of generosity -- and this might just be my personal opinion, but generosity is usually connected to material things. Once again: she might as well be getting upset because Blanche refuses to let her borrow a purse.

Rose is the only one who's somewhat concerned at not having Miles as a +1, but it seems to me that's essentially because of the 'getting hot at weddings' thing. When she introduces the problem, we get this dialogue between her and Dorothy:

"Miles can't take me to the wedding. He's going to be out of town at a teaching seminar. Now I can't go."

"That shouldn't keep you from going."

"Oh, I have my reasons."

And then she says:

"So now you see why I can't go if Miles is gonna be out of town. I might end up almost going to bed with the caterer again."

It seems to me she's not that upset because of Miles's absence; she would have gone anyway without a care in the world if the event wasn't a wedding. She doesn't necessarily treat Miles like an accessory, but she's not particularly saddened by his absence, either -- just worried about the effect weddings have on her.

And then, with all this established: the toilet scene. When the scene returns on Dorothy keeping Blanche trapped in the toilet, there's already a couple of guests looking at them and whispering among themselves (which isn't strange at all: they're making A Scene™ right there in the ladies' room!). The whole fight has such an incredible Married Couple Quarrel energy:

"Dorothy, let me out of here right now!"

"There's only one way out, Blanche, and I don't think you can hold your breath long enough."

"You're just making a mountain out of a molehill."

"Five years of molehills. They add up."

"I didn't know Doug meant this much to you."

"I'm not talking about Doug, this is about you."

Talking to the small group of guests that gathered at the scene, she then adds:

"She asked me for another chance, I gave it to her. I trusted her. Biggest mistake I ever made."

Tell me those lines aren't the most married thing you've ever heard. I'm almost tempted to make a poll and ask people what they think about this quote; I'm sure at least a good 85% would assume this is being said by someone to their lover (or ex-lover, at least!).

Then the bride (because let's remember, this is all happening at a wedding) appears and likens the situation between Dorothy and Blanche to what's happening between her and the groom -- so we have a clear line drawn between Blanche/Dorothy and a committed romantic relationship. She calls Dorothy 'Aunt Dorothy', as is expected since Dorothy is her godmother, but she also calls Blanche 'Aunt Blanche', because... I don't know, there's no heterosexual explanation for it. Note that this girl invited Dorothy and Sophia to her wedding (no wonder: her godmother and her godmother's mother; they must be close) but she also invited Blanche and Rose, whom she technically has no relation to -- we have to assume they were invited because of their relation to Dorothy (she's possibly close to them too, considering she calls Blanche her 'aunt', but that's still due to their relation to Dorothy, of course). I mean -- would you invite your godmother's roommates to your wedding, as a general rule?

And!! After all this, the whole talking/not talking thing! Dorothy tells Jen:

"Jen, honey, I think you should go and talk to Joey. The best thing to do in any relationship is talk."

She says this right after she found an excuse to speak to Blanche in private and trapped her into a toilet because she wanted to talk:

"Listen, Blanche, we have to talk."

"Not now, Dorothy."

"Suit yourself."

"Dorothy, will you let me out of here?"

"No way, Blanche."

Once they turn to helping Jen and Blanche finally escapes the toilet, Dorothy is understandably upset and refuses to talk to her, and this makes Blanche very upset in turn. I'll let the dialogue speak for me on this one because there's no way I can say it any better:

"Dorothy, I wish you'd talk to me."

"..."

"I really do, 'cause what I need is a good talking-to."

"..."

"I don't care what you say, just so long as you care enough to say it."

"You stink."

"God bless you, Dorothy."

Yeah. Married. Blanche is so relieved and reassured once Dorothy starts talking to her again that she follows the conversation for just a little while after that (just as long as they're talking about Rose) and then immediately zones out again, because she's back in her comfort zone. Dorothy's talking to her! Dorothy forgave her! Everything's fine -- back to your regularly scheduled Blanche Devereaux™ content. (Note that she also pointedly does not dance with Doug after he comes back, even though he's from her A-list. This episode should have ended with a Blanche/Dorothy dance, if only to spite Doug.)

Rose is mostly busy dealing with her own thing in this one, but you all know I love the Golden Wives, so let me point out a couple of things:

Blanche and Dorothy (especially Dorothy) really do take care of Rose at the wedding! ... well, at the beginning of the party, at least. But they do genuinely try to reassure her! It's sweet! "Rose, honey, take it easy. Breathe deeply. It'll be all right." "Don't worry, honey. Nothing to worry about. We're here to look out for you." [...] "We're gonna have to keep an eye on her." "Hmm." We see her flirt with a couple of men during the party, but she only ends up going away with Doug and only while Dorothy and Blanche are having their little moment in the ladies' room, so it seems like they did keep her out of trouble after all! Until they got tangled up in their own thing, that is.

Right after they get out of the ladies' room (i.e., right after Dorothy tells Blanche 'I have nothing to say to you") Dorothy immediately notices that Rose isn't around, and talks to Blanche about it, despite the fact that she's supposedly not talking to her at all.

Blanche manages to keep her attention up as long as she and Dorothy worry about Rose, then gets immediately distracted by a man in the band. This exchange specifically is really touching to me: "Oh, I hope she can forgive us." "She will. That's what she does best." Just -- the complete certainty... my heart...

Blanche is really aggressive to Doug when he comes back! She was using every trick in her book to get him to act as her date earlier on, but as soon as she gets the hint that he took advantage of Rose, she immediately enters Protective Wife Mode™.

This line by Dorothy: "He must really be something." "So is Rose." This line? Said with the most affectionate smile in the world? Yeah. Yeah.

So anyway. I just spent like an hour and a half writing all this down, I love this episode, I adore these ladies and I am going to scream, thank you, goodbye.

#this is very messy and unplanned but i just saw the episode and i couldn't keep it to myself #and all this without speaking of the jokes!!!#'i'm going to write on this wall - for a good time call dorothy zbornak.' 'blanche - this is the ladies' room!' 'RIGHT'#'you don't look after me when *i* get hot!' 'that's because i also have a day job!'#AGH i just. i love them sm!!!!#this is one of those episodes where you really Get how important they are to each other. this is all from a romantic pov #but it's true from a platonic pov as well of course. they're such a close unit that jen calls them all 'aunt'#even though only dorothy is her godmother -- and she obviously became her godmother long before she began to live with the girls #sure. they like to have dates for this kind of event. but in the same way one might rent a nice suit for this kind of event!#the important relationship is the one between them! you know?#sophia's b-plot in this one is also a lot of fun lmao i love it #cursing someone to have their socks constantly slide down their shoes is *evil*#so yeah. 10/10 episode!!! a big favourite!!#the golden girls #golden wives

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