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stevebabey · 2 years ago

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Eddie has a test.

It took some time to formulate, a few too many times with guys careless with his heart, who leave behind more heartache than happiness littered in their memory. It’s fucking hard to tell.

More than once, there’s been a dude who promises between kisses i’m not going anywhere and takes more than his fill during a night which Eddie desperately hopes is passion and not some misguided lust. Only to wake a familiar empty side of the bed, them gone — skipping town, back in the arms of their parent-approved girlfriend, or back to spitting his name out with the word freak.

It’s what the test is for.

It’s specific, purposeful, all intending to weed out the straight boys who liked to dip their toes in the pool of queerness and leave Eddie to any consequences of the heart. Eddie doesn’t want to turn cruel, to be too jaded after feeling used too many times. It’s what the test is for. Protect the heart, see what interest is genuine.

Right now, he’s putting the test on Jared. New in town and in Eddie’s life, he’d captured the metalhead’s gaze from the glint of his pierced ear and light eyes that lingered. Kissed a little mean, and with too much teeth, but Eddie chalked it up to excitement. Jared seemed good. Nodded and smiled when Eddie found himself wrapped up in yet another DnD spiel. Said he found it endearing.

The test is simple.

A bid, a nudge, for attention. Never anything big or too exciting— that always got him specifically warped smirks designed to lead him along. Just something minuscule, like will you come take a look at my notes? or can i play you that riff once more? to see if it gave.

The pattern runs deep in Eddie’s dating history; same ol’ jerks who couldn’t bother to come and look at his new DnD sketches are always the ones who are only leasing a new sexuality for a month. It’s like setting a minefield and seeing who stumbles on a landmine, the bids getting ignored is as early as a warning sign he’ll ever get.

He tries the test on Jared.

It’s a Thursday night and Jared’s round at the trailer, lounging on Eddie’s sheets and still a little flushed from the night’s earlier activities. Usually it’s a good sign when the guys stick around after sex, not flying out the door once they’ve got what they want. By now, Eddie has drifted away from his bed, skittish thoughts already off and away with new campaign ideas.

He’s scrawling in a character design, some new boss, half troll, half hellhound, that requires a lot of finicky details worked out. The page is covered in scribbles, nothing in any semblance of lines and a crude first sketch is in the middle. It’s not quite the vision he had in mind but it took him an hour, so he’s hardly going to erase it. Besides, it looks pretty fucking metal to him.

“Hey,” Eddie calls out, a bit soft. No pet-names used— most of the time boys didn’t like them and wrinkled their nose. Those that didn’t mind, never returned them. “Can I show you the sketch I’ve been working on?”

He pauses, then launches into an explanation without waiting for a response, “It’s for the new campaign I’ve been planning, one of the bosses, and honestly, those little shrimps have no idea what’s coming for them.”

Jared, still slouched on the bed, peeks up a bit at the noise. He hadn’t really been doing much, just leafing through some of the junk beside Eddie’s bed. If Eddie let himself hold any hope, he would say it’s because he wants to know more about Eddie.

“Huh?” Jared asks, genuine enough that Eddie thinks maybe he didn’t hear him.

“A DnD boss?” Eddie says, eyebrows raising. He barrels on, thinking about how Dustin had helped propose the new boss, with a grin spreading across Eddie’s face. “Dustin, the little twerp, challenged me to pick a random combination of creatures and mash em’ together- see what crazy abilities come from it.”

“Who’s Dustin?” Jared asks, failing to sound like he cares. His eyes have wandered elsewhere, head falling back on the pillow and Eddie’s initial question about the sketch is long, long gone.

Oof. And that’s like 3 failed bids at one time because Eddie talks about Dustin all the time. Jared clearly isn’t interested in Eddie Munson, just what he can offer. Eddie’s heart grows a little colder.

“Look, I think I’m gonna get going, yeah?” Jared says, maybe sensing Eddie’s mood change as he begins to sit up and tug his shirt back over his bare skin. His sticks his feet in his shoes, laces them up. Eddie nods, tucks his notebook behind him and walks him out, plastering on a smile the whole time.

After ambling down the stairs to the trailer, Jared turns back, after searching the surrounding area for leering eyes, and he reaches out and gives Eddie’s hand a squeeze. Just a split second, before it flies back to his side.

Eddie would like to believe that he’s at least worthy of a goodbye kiss. Even if some wicked part of his brain says he’s not, that boys like Eddie Munson don’t get sweet goodbye kisses. Don’t get good relationships, just mindless flings.

The thought makes hurt flares in his gut, Eddie so desperately trying to protect his hope, and so before Jared can say anything, some pitiful goodbye, Eddie leans out the doorway and says, “Don’t call me.” then slams the trailer door.

It follows him around for the next week, his own personal storm-cloud to keep his head grey even when it’s sunny out. He mopes to Robin about it during her shift, probably the only other person he can talk to about it.

“So, you tested him? What does that even mean? Is there a gay test you know about that you haven’t told me about? That would be so uncool, man.”

She’s talking as she types, half paying attention to the computer. Steve is out in between the shelves, putting out a new batch of films— Eddie knows because he’d instinctively sought him out when he came in. Harrington was a pretty boy, sue him for wanting to enjoy the view.

Didn’t help he was also decidedly declared not-a-douchebag by Eddie during the whole upside down spiel and had the duality of biting off that bat’s head and somehow being the world’s biggest sweetheart for his friends. Friends that now included Eddie.

What can you say? Going through that much together, including killing a death wizard and getting dragged out of an alternate dimension certainly forms some strong bonds. Plus, Steve was hot.

(Eddie denies the crush on the basis that would. never. happen.)

At the reminder of Vecna, Eddie winces and supposes he should be lucky he gets any sort of attention after that whole scandal. But it doesn’t stop him from draping himself across the front counter, laying pathetically with a pout on his lips. He shakes his head fervently at her question.

“Not a gay test, Robin.” He stresses. “It’s the Eddie-Munson-is-this-boy-gonna-stick-around-test.”

He rolls up onto his elbows and props his head into his waiting palms. “Gotta make sure I’m not being treated like some common whore.”

It’s meant to be a joke, a usual joking lilt to his voice, but the end of the sentences comes out a bit too bitter to land that way.

Robin’s sympathetic expression makes Eddie’s chest twinge in a way he doesn’t like. He waves her off. Slumps back down a bit before deciding he’s done enough wallowing in the public eye.

Robin doesn’t say anything as he pulls out his usual notebook, pages weathered and filled. Eddie usually hangs around the store on days without plans, flits between Robin and Steve, and scribbles in his notebook. She bites her lip, gaze moving between the book and the resigned expression on Eddie’s face as he turns to the latest page— the strange hellhound troll mashed up boss.

“Okay, I’ll bite—what’s the test involve?” She asks, pausing in her typing for a moment. Her hands don’t stop moving, still stressing the fabric of her pants twitchily. Eddie perks his head up, clutching his pencil a bit tighter and rolls right into it.

“It’s not even really a test, technically, but doesn’t matter- that’s just what I call it - it’s like a bid?”

Robin raises her brows and they disappear under her fringe. “A bid?”

“Yeah! A bid!” He waves his arms around as he speaks, gesticulating a bit wildly. “It’s like— like asking them to come look at something stupid and small, just to see if they’ll give your interests time of the day, yanno?”

He punches a finger down into his sketchbook. “A guy who can’t even be bothered to look at a sketch I worked on for an hour? Douchebag.”

Eddie’s tone turns a bit sing-song as he continues, like it’ll somehow distract from the bleakness of them. “Ergo, not sticking around.”

Robin’s hands finally stop their messing, becoming completely still against her legs. She finally swivels her body to face Eddie, a furrow between her brows. Her lips are quirked up, just a bit, like she knows something Eddie doesn’t. He feels his apprehension grow as he slumps his chin back into his hands.

“You mean, like how Steve is with you?”

Eddie stands a bit straighter at that, some flushed combination of disbelief mixing with delight flooded his body.

“What?” It comes out a bit more squeaky than intended. Eddie clears his throat, waves his hands, anything to stop that smirk from spreading across Robin’s face — he can feel his cheeks glow a bit warmer at the mere idea. “What is that supposed to mean?”

Robin smiles a bit and nods over to where Steve is. “Try it, test him.”

Eddie follows her nod, casting his eyes across the store to find Steve. He finds him situated in the romance section, a pile of cardboard box stacked beside him, the top box open and ready to be unpacked.

But Steve’s clearly been distracted by the first film in the box — he’s sunk deep into his mom-stance with one hip popped, one hand on his hip, the other holding the film as he reads the back cover of it very intently.

Eddie watches for just a moment, watches Steve squint and pull the case just a bit closer, wrinkle his nose adorably, snort a little laugh at whatever he’s reading — and dammit, this is just a fast track to insanity if Eddie watches him any longer.

“Steve,” he calls, too hesitant and too quiet. Steve’s head doesn’t move, he just flips the cover back over, marveling at the front. Eddie tries again. “Harrington!”

Steve’s head pops up, eyes skirting about to see who’s calling him. He doesn’t move when he sees it’s Eddie calling, just raises his brows. “Yeah?”

Eddie swallows, tries not to think of Robin paying close attention to both him and Steve. He grips his notebook a bit tighter even though he’s not entirely convinced Robin’s right. Steve Harrington doesn’t like DnD — not even for Dustin who has self-proclaimed himself Steve’s ‘adorable little brother that he never had’. Steve is hardly going to care if it’s Eddie asking.

“Do you wanna take a look at this sketch I’m working on?” He asks, as casual as he can.

Steve’s features give away just a hint of surprise, a blink as he comprehends what’s been said. Eddie holds his breath, ready to turn to Robin and say ‘I told you so!’ and to pretend that he’s not secretly hoping Steve will say yes.

“Sure,” Steve says, slotting the film back into the cardboard box and beginning to meander between the shelves towards the front desk. Eddie doesn’t even get time to be surprised because Steve’s suddenly there, in front of him, all expectant.

Eddie opens his mouth, thinks the better of it, and snaps it back closed. Instead, he thrusts the notebook to the side along the countertop, opened to the page of the sketch and doesn’t say anything. In the background, Robin snorts lightly. Eddie shoots her a glare.

If Eddie could look at Steve, he’d see the lightly amused expression on his face, but Eddie only focuses on the book. Really focuses. God, if he looks at Steve he’ll probably get some stupid mooned expression on his face that would totally give away his tiny stupid not-a-crush.

In his peripheral, he can see Steve sidle a little closer and lean over to peer at the page. And while he looks over it intently, Eddie let’s his eyes drift up, taking in the side of his face.

Curses his stupid handsome face. Then curses it some more when Steve lights up in recognition, turning to Eddie, excited to have a sliver of an idea what Eddie’s showing him. Normally, it’s all mumbo-jumbo to Steve. Not that he hasn’t tried to keep up but those kids are ahead of the curve and Steve wasn’t about to embarrass himself asking them to slow down their explanations.

“Woah, is this that one that Dustin was talking about?” Eddie thinks there might be a bit of genuine excitement leaking into Steve’s words.

“The weird like, mashed up, uh, what’s the word? Hyp- hypb—“

“Hybrid,” Eddie supplies, voice cool. His heart is not feeling so cool. Jesus Christ, Steve wasn’t supposed to pass Eddie’s test— he wasn’t even supposed to be tested. In order for that happen, they’d have to even be fooling around and Eddie blames his building blush on that mere suggestion.

“Yeah!” Steve raps his knuckles against the countertop and takes a second look at the drawing, closer this time. He looks back up at Eddie, so he knows he’s completely sincere when he says, “This is really cool, man.”

“Okay.” Eddie breathes, sounding a bit stupid. He remembers himself, remembers Robin watching him essentially bluescreen at the praise from Steve and wrenches his awed smile into a familiar smug type of grin.

“Of course it is, Steve-o,” He quickly amends, reaching back and tugging the notebook back. It’s closes with a quick snap, like Eddie’s afraid Steve will take another look. “She’s not finished yet, of course.”

Eddie had to bite his tongue to keep it from either taking an insanely egotistical route to pretend Steve’s praise hadn’t had a profound effect on him, or even worse, start trying to suddenly be humble — oh this ol’ thing? it’s nothing really, just threw it together quickly— Eddie nearly melts against the counter in relief when the bell on the front door saves him.

A customer enters the store, instantly taking Steve’s attention and he bounds off to help them, an easy smile on his face.

Eddie waits until Steve and the customer wandered off into the aisles to release his breath. He doesn’t look at Robin, just turns and presses his forehead down against the countertop. Then raises it just a bit, and thunks it back down, a couple of times for good measure.

“Okay, okay—“ Robin’s gone a bit wide eyed and she waves her hands at Eddie’s pathetic form, his head still bonking against the counter. “Stop doing that. Jesus, Eddie, are the dramatics always necessary?”

His motions stop at Robin’s words and Eddie’s whips his head up. He narrows his eyes at her, and as if to prove his point, exaggeratedly jabs a finger at her.

“Hey! Never deny my right to be a drama queen. It is my god given right as an American citizen—”

“He passed.” Robin says, cutting off what was about to be a very long rant about god knows what. Eddie just didn’t want her to say what she was about to. “Your test. He passed, didn’t he?“

That. He didn’t want her to say that.

“He’s being a good friend! A very good nice friend!” Eddie counters, only sounding a little bit whiny which takes half the conviction out of his words. He slams his hands down against the wood. “That test is for— it’s not for him! It’s for—”

An annoyed noise comes out of Eddie’s throat and he aims for one more thunk of his head against the counter before tugging it back up and meeting Robin’s smug expression. She’s too smug. Her whole face is smug smug smug and Eddie scowls. He points a deliberate finger at her again.

“Different context, alright? That—” He waves an arm behind him, in the direction of Steve carelessly. “—doesn’t count. Nope. Not- that’s not how the test works.”

Robin sighs, as if she realises how fruitless it is to keep chucking this argument between the two of them. Her hands finally resume their typing and Eddie lets his head drop again, this time resting it against the wood a tad more gentle. He slumps, blowing a pointless raspberry as he tries to evacuate every thought that’s entertaining Steve as more. Or Steve wanting more of Eddie.

“Look,” Robin says suddenly, halting her typing once more. Eddie rolls his head so he can see her but doesn’t bother to lift it. She’s sideways in his vision, but still barreling on in that Robin way. “One last thing and then I swear, I’ll leave it.”

Eddie raises his brows. Says nothing.

“Have you considered,” She pauses, and appears to be trying to pick her words carefully. “whether anyone else is putting their bids on you?”

Eddie wrinkles his nose, knowing exactly what she’s hinting at. Subtlety has never been Robin’s strong suit. It’s even more obvious when her eyes dart across the store — Eddie seriously doubts she’s talking about the random customer that had just entered.

“Just think about it?” She pleads, and Eddie feels his annoyance at how easily he can feel his heart roll over. “See if you notice any bids from... anyone! Anyone at all.”

Eddie picks his head up, chances a glance towards Steve and admits, there’s no harm in trying. Even though, Steve had surprised him today Eddie can find a dozen reasons to chalk that up to. A dozen reasons that don’t include mutual feelings.

Eddie mulls it over, because because what are the chances really? Steve putting bids out to him? To specifically Eddie? The chances are slim to none.

So the answer he gives is, “Sure.”

He’ll get to tell Robin later she can stuff it and wipe her smug expression off with the most righteous i told you so on the planet. There was no way she was right about this, right?

Part two. Part three.

#this is not nearly as edited as most things that come out this blog #but i was going for those rambly posts i see of them all da time #<3 #steddie my beloved #ruby writes steddie #steddie #steve x eddie #steddie ficlet #steddie fic #posting this at an odd time bcos it’s not what da usual followers expect #anyways i trust the gay ppl…… they will find this

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worldsokayestdragon · 1 month ago

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GreedxLing Week Day 2: Crossover

Read on AO3

Ling had been certain that he and Lan Fan were ready to take down a witch.

They'd gotten the other 99 souls required easily, far faster than any other student at the DWMA had ever managed. (Well, anyone besides Maka Albarn, but she was a freakishly intense prodigy so that was hardly a fair comparison. And she'd had to start over anyway so it barely counted.) Their soul resonance was nearly flawless. When they fought together Lan Fan’s blade was like an extension of Ling's arm. Every strike landed precisely and powerfully, and their special attacks never failed.

No witch should have stood a chance against them.

And they hadn't gone into the fight alone. Ed and Al were with them, and the two brothers were nearly as good as Ling and Lan Fan. The weapon meister combination of a giant suit of armor and a guy way too small to wear it was unconventional, and Ling was pretty sure Ed having his friend make him an oversized prosthetic arm so he could wear one of everything from the pauldron down, then and having Al fight beside him only counted “wielding a weapon” on the barest technicality, but they made it work. Ed was very good at punching things until they stopped getting back up, and Al stepped in perfectly to watch his back.

And Professor Hawkeye and her meister, Mustang, had accompanied them on this mission, so really they were as safe as could be.

Okay, maybe the adults had less accompanied them and more failed to notice the students sneaking along on a mission they'd been explicitly told to sit out because it was too dangerous. Something something ancient and powerful witch, blah blah dark soul magic, yadda yadda artificially created weapons who could operate autonomously, achieve soul resonance within themselves, and perform feats that no human weapon and meister team could hope to match. Whatever. If anything that was all the more reason for them to come along instead of leaving the old people to try and face all of that on their own.

Really, Hawkeye and Mustang should be grateful they were there, considering Mustang got himself critically injured fighting the first enemy they came across; a beautiful woman who could summon spears to her fingertips that grew to whatever length she wanted and apparently could cut through anything. The man did manage to kill her before succumbing to blood loss, though, which Ling could admit was kind of impressive considering how she shook off what should have been mortal wounds and healed almost instantly from any damage. But still, if the rest of them hadn't been there to provide cover and a distraction Hawkeye never would have been able to drag her unconscious meister to safety and call for more backup.

Hawkeye threatening them all with a “serious conversation” when they got back to school and swearing she'd expel them if she found out they'd stayed to fight if there was a chance of running away seemed pretty rude and uncalled for to Ling, but the woman was under a lot of stress.

So they ran deeper into the witch's compound–a confusing warren of underground tunnels that Ling wasn't entirely confident he'd be able to easily find his way back out of even with his normally perfect sense of direction–smashing delicate lab equipment, yelling for any cowards in the place to come face them, and generally just making a commotion to try and draw attention away from their injured companions.

Ed seemed particularly thrilled at all the destruction they were wreaking. Ling thought it was pretty fun too, but the other meister was delighted in a way that was a little concerning, laughing maniacally as he grabbed flasks of some unidentifiable green liquid off a lab table and flung them against a wall where they promptly exploded.

Al heaved a long suffering sigh at his brother, but didn't try to stop the rampage, and also shoved over an entire shelf of the exploding potions as they left the room they'd found them in and giggled to himself about it because he was only “the normal brother” in the sense that anyone would seem sane and rational standing next to Edward Elric.

They succeeded in calling attention to themselves.

They didn’t draw out the actual witch, at least not yet, but the two minions who came after them were terrifying enough on their own.

One was a short fat man, who partially transformed into a…meat grinder? Some sort of construction equipment maybe? It wasn’t anything Ling would call a weapon in the traditional sense, but the sight of the man’s abdomen splitting open to reveal rows of spinning metal teeth was more alarming than any blade or hammer or gun could hope to be. Luckily he didn’t seem very smart, and kept stopping to look around and call for someone named Lust who never showed up, so it wasn’t too hard to dodge his attempts at pulverizing them.

The other person was more of a problem. They were taller and much more agile, and clearly knew their way around the witch’s headquarters, which made evading them in the tight corridors a challenge. And they never seemed to run out of ways to transform their body. Ling would dive back to avoid the swing of an arm that had become a blade only to immediately have to roll to the side when that same arm turned into a cannon aimed right at his head.

They also never shut up. Every attack was followed up with a comment about how “You pathetic humans never should have come here,” or “You’ll never make it out of here alive, you worms!”

And of course, Ed also didn’t know how to shut up.

“I’d rather be a pathetic human worm than an ugly freak like you and your buddy!”

“Who are you calling ugly, you tiny little pest?”

Their hand turned into some sort of glowing gun that fired a laser at Ed. Frankly, Ling thought turning into a sci-fi bullshit weapon was cheating.

Al just managed to yank his brother out of the way and hold him back from rushing in for an attack.

“Tiny?! We’ll see who’s tiny after I rip your legs off!”

“Oh, I’d love to see you try and–Gluttony, would you focus?”

The fat man, Gluttony apparently, turned back from where he’d been starting to wander away down a cross hall.

“But Envy, I need to go look for Lust. I don’t know where she is.”

Envy shook their head. “We can look for her after we crush these intruders, alright? You don’t need to worry about Lust, she can take care of herself.”

“But–”

“Ling, we should try and get out of here while they’re distracted,” Lan Fan said, speaking into Ling’s mind as she always did in her sword form and drowning out the argument in front of him.

“Right,” Ling whispered back, trying not to draw attention back to them. They were at the junction of two hallways, and there was just enough room that they could slip around their pursuers and go back the way they’d come if they were quick about it.

“Ed, Al, let’s get out of here,” he added only slightly louder. Both Elric brothers nodded their understanding.

Ling led the way, moving as quickly and quietly as he could along the far side of the hall from Envy and Gluttony to rush back past them.

Something slammed into the wall inches in front of Ling’s nose, and he barely stopped in time to avoid running into a giant mess of metal and wires and tubing that was shaped like a crude, nightmarish hand, reaching nearly from floor to ceiling and completely blocking his path.

The hand connected to an equally haphazard mechanical arm that shrank as it got further from the wrist, all the way down to Envy’s human looking shoulder. They’d stopped talking to Gluttony, their focus entirely fixed on Ling and his friends.

“I didn’t say you could leave,” they hissed.

“New plan,” Ling gasped, backpedaling a few steps away from where Envy’s hand was slowly pulling away from the new crater it had left in the solid stone wall. “We run away as fast as we can and worry about finding an exit later.”

“I like that plan!” Al said, already turning back up the hall and dragging Ed with him.

“Very sensible,” Lan Fan agreed.

The following chase was a blur of sprinting over uneven floors and taking corners at speed while ducking out of the way of blades and gunfire and giant mechanical hands, as well as the occasional attempt to grind them into a paste. (Gluttony referred to this as “eating them,” which, bad!) Ling completely gave up trying to keep track of where they were or the direction they were going, just concentrating on staying alive and hopefully losing the monsters on their tails.

It was a surprise when, after darting around another corner and through an archway, they found themselves out of the claustrophobic hallways and in a cavernous room. Tubes wrapped and tangled around each other up the walls and across the ceiling, coming together in the center of the room and trailing down to connect to a large throne, its occupant shrouded in shadows so deep Ling couldn’t make out a single detail of his face. A sense of creeping evil permeated the entire space, and Ling realized that this must be the witch’s inner sanctum.

There was no other door but the one they’d entered through.

The only other occupant of the room was an older man standing next to the throne, unremarkable other than the eyepatch over one eye. He strode forward with a glare as Envy and Gluttony burst into the room behind Ling and the others.

“What is the meaning of you fools allowing these humans to make their way here? You’ve disturbed Father’s work.”

“Hey, these little insects are fast,” Envy protested. “And I didn’t see you helping stop them, Wrath! Or Sloth and Pride for that matter.”

“Our brothers are away on an errand for Father,” Wrath said dismissively. “You shouldn’t need their help to squash a few bugs anyway. Or mine, but I’ll go ahead and lend it to you since it seems to be the only way anything gets done around here.”

Envy growled, and the growl deepened and distorted as they transformed.

In the open space of this room they were able to change more than just their arm. Their whole body stretched and twisted as they grew into a giant robotic thing. It looked a bit like a mech suit from an anime, if that mech suit had been welded together from a thousand disparate parts by a madman into a body horror nightmare amalgamation, bristling with every weapon imaginable. They dropped down onto all fours–their new form no longer bipedal–and the impact shook the room so badly Ling nearly lost his footing.

“Fine,” Envy said, in a voice like grating metal. “You take care of the one with the sword, that seems more your speed. I’ll take the armor and the runt.”

For once in his life, Ed didn’t immediately freak out about being called a runt. Maybe even he recognized they were in serious enough danger to let something like that slide. Instead he said, “Actually, I think I’m just gonna leave.” and darted toward Envy’s flank, maybe trying to use their large size against them to slip by them and back out the door before they could twist around for the attack.

Ling wasn’t able to watch and see how that tactic worked out for his friend because, faster than seemed possible, Wrath was no longer across the room but right in front of him, swinging a sword toward his neck. Only Lan Fan calling out a warning allowed Ling to react in time to block the attack, and the force of the blow sent him stumbling back.

Ling could hear Ed and Al fighting Envy, and it sounded like they were struggling (it also sounded like Ed had landed at least one blow because he yelled “that’s for calling me a runt!” So much for letting things go in a dangerous situation), but he couldn’t go to help them or even spare a glance in their direction. It took all his energy to match Wrath, and he spent more time blocking and dodging than making his own attacks, unable to find an opening.

He didn’t know if the man was one of the witch’s created weapons. He must have been, from the weird name and how unnaturally fast he moved, but he didn’t appear to transform his body in any way.

But he could pull seemingly infinite swords from somewhere, rearming himself instantly the one time Ling managed to disarm him, and throwing them with as much deadly accuracy as he wielded them when Ling tried to retreat and put some distance between them.

Gluttony, apparently unable to decide who he should be attacking without explicit instructions, just took a swipe at whatever intruder happened to be in range of him at any given time as the fight took them around the room. It was better than having to fight two at once, but the added need to keep track of distance from him wasn’t something Ling appreciated.

He tried to keep circling to Wrath’s left, to put himself in the blind spot created by the eyepatch. His success was limited, but the strategy was letting him keep his head attached so far, and he didn’t see any better options so he kept to it.

The witch eventually grew impatient with the fight.

“Enough,” he said, not yelling but somehow projecting his voice across the room and over the sound of fighting.

Ling didn’t look over, refusing to be distracted.

But then Al asked: “Dad?”

At the same time Ed snarled: “Hohenheim!”

That got Ling’s attention.

“Your dad’s a witch?” That was the type of thing he’d hope his friends would tell him before it came up mid-battle.

The witch did look a lot like Ed, an old man with graying blond hair that had probably once been the same shade as Ed’s braid, and eyes the same distinctive golden color.

Whether the Elrics were going to answer him, or keep yelling at the witch that was maybe their dad, Ling never found out. Envy took advantage of the distraction and slammed one giant hand down into Ed and the other into Al, pinning them both to the floor.

“Ling!” Lan Fan yelled, and he jumped back away from Wrath’s sword.

He just barely got out of the way, a stinging cut opening on his cheek instead of the intended decapitation.

Wrath followed up by throwing his sword, and the thin blade slotted cleanly into the loop at the back of Lan Fan’s hilt, ripping her out of Ling’s hand. The sword continued on its path, and buried itself deeply into the wall.

Ling dashed over and yanked on the sword, but it didn’t budge.

“Duck!” Lan Fan shouted, and Ling dropped to the floor right as the blade of yet another sword hit the wall where his head had been with enough force to shatter the tempered steel.

Ling rolled to the side and sprung back to his feet. He and Wrath circled each other again, but this time Ling tried not to let himself be moved too far from Lan Fan.

“Ling, just go,” Lan Fan cried. Her voice, already faded in Ling’s mind from a few feet of distance, sounded desperate in a way he’d never heard her before. “Get out of here, please!”

“I’m not leaving you,” Ling snapped. He wouldn’t leave any of them. There had to be a way to–

Something slammed into Ling’s side, tackling him to the ground. Too late, he realized he’d forgotten to keep track of Gluttony.

As he struggled beneath Gluttony’s weight, watching the grinding teeth of whatever his weapon form was inch closer and closer, Ling really wished he’d been a little less confident in his abilities and chosen not to come here.

“Wait,” the witch called.

Gluttony stopped a second short of turning Ling into mince meat.

The Witch walked slowly towards Ed and Al.

“You two are Van Hohenheim’s children?” he asked.

“What’s it to you, you bastard?” Ed growled.

“Yes, we are,” Al, ever more diplomatic, rushed to answer. “You–um well– you look a lot like him.”

“Yes, I suppose I do,” The man muttered. Then, louder, he added, “We’ll be keeping these ones alive, Envy, so do try not to crush them too much if you haven’t already.”

“Um, alright,” Envy said, shifting to put less weight on the Elrics.

“As for the others,” the witch turned back to look at Ling. “We don’t need them. You can go ahead and eat that one, Gluttony.”

“No!” Ed yelled. “No, please, they're our friends!”

“But I have no use for them. A measly two souls aren’t even enough to use in my experiments. Although…” He tilted his head, regarding Ling with a more considering eye. “I suppose it might be time to give Greed another chance.”

The witch stood up straighter and clapped his hands sharply. “Wrath, Gluttony, bring the boy over here. I have use for him after all.”

Gluttony whined in disappointment, but obediently shifted off of Ling and grabbed one of his arms. Wrath grabbed the other, and the two of them began dragging Ling toward the throne in the middle of the room, ignoring his struggling as if it were nothing.

“No!” Lan Fan screamed.

Ling twisted to look at her.

She’d taken her human form again. The sword that had been harmlessly hooked through the loop of her pommel was now stabbing her arm just below her right shoulder. There wasn’t much blood, the blade completely filling the wound, but that arm flopped limply as she struggled, reaching toward Ling.

“Let him go! Bring him back!”

“Lan Fan, stop moving,” Ling yelled. “Your arm! You’ll make it worse if you don’t hold still!”

“I don’t care,” Lan Fan reached up to yank at the hilt of the sword. She managed only the slightest movement of the blade, and blood began oozing more quickly from around it. “Let him go! Take me instead!”

The witch and his weapons ignored her. Ling was dragged in front of the throne and forced to his knees as the witch retrieved a small flask of some viscous red liquid from a table nearby.

Gluttony moved to hold both of Ling’s arms, and Wrath took ahold of his chin, forcibly tilting his head up.

“This may hurt,” the witch said calmly, sounding almost like a doctor about to administer a shot.

“Let him go, you bastards!” Ed snarled.

“Please, stop this!” Al begged.

“Ling!” Lan Fan’s yell sounded more like a sob.

And then the witch tipped the contents of the flask into the cut on Ling’s cheek, and he couldn’t hear anything over his own screaming anymore.

—

Ling’s body twisted and writhed in ways it was never meant to, his bones breaking and rehealing over and over, his insides feeling like they were being boiled.

It was excruciating.

It was too much.

Ling retreated from reality into the place inside himself he accessed for soul resonance training with Lan Fan. Not quite inside his own soul, but not in his body either. A quiet and empty void.

Except it wasn’t quiet or empty now. The pain followed him down, though it wasn’t as strong as it had been, and the space was full of a thousand overlapping screams.

And there was another soul there.

The soul wasn’t normal. Not in the twisted, evil way the kishin eggs Lan Fan consumed on their missions were. It just looked like it had been put together hurriedly from the pieces of many others, somehow coming together into a cohesive whole.

It was almost beautiful, in an alien way.

As Ling watched, the soul’s shape changed, until he was looking at a large, shadowy face with jagged teeth and glowing white eyes.

“Well, what do we have here?” The voice came from the face in front of him, though its mouth didn’t move. “Am I supposed to be using your body now?”

“What’s happening to me?” Ling asked.

“They didn’t explain, huh?” the thing asked. “Yeah, they wouldn’t. The names Greed, kid, and if I had to guess, what’s happening is they put me in your bloodstream and now your body’s trying to adapt to my power. Probably doesn’t feel too good.”

Maybe Ling was going crazy, but the floating head sounded a little sympathetic.

“Look, you should probably just let go. Let yourself fade back into your soul or whatever. Only one person’s ever survived this, as far as I know, and it’s not a pretty way to go. I can keep you from feeling it, but not when you're fighting to stay conscious like this.”

“If I die, will they try again with someone else?”

“Huh?” One of Greed’s eyes got bigger than the other, giving the impression of raising an eyebrow he didn’t have. “Yeah, probably, if there’s anyone else around. Won’t be your problem anymore, though, will it?”

Ling thought of Lan Fan, pinned to a wall with a mangled arm and still fighting to get to him, to help him.

He couldn’t let her go through this.

Ling stood up as straight as he could while floating in a void and glared at Greed.

“I’m not going to die,” Ling willed himself to believe his own words as he spoke. “There are people counting on me. I’m going to save my friends, and I’ll take on all your power to do it if I have to.”

Greed stared at him silently for a moment, somehow looking stunned despite being mostly sharp teeth and empty eyes. Then he burst out laughing.

The laugh sounded more delighted than mocking, which was not what Ling would have expected.

“Oh, I like you,” Greed said when he was done with his laughing fit. “This is gonna be fun. Alright then, you take my power, and we’ll see what we can do for your friends. I got a score to settle with the old bastard myself.”

Greed moved closer to Ling, his mouth finally opening, stretching wide enough to swallow Ling whole. A blinding white light shone from between Greed’s teeth as they rushed toward Ling. The screaming around them crescendoed, growing louder and louder until Ling realized he was screaming along with it. Everything became so overwhelming, he was certain he was about to be ripped apart, and then–

—

Ling’s eyes opened, but he wasn’t the one to open them.

His body was still kneeling on the floor, right where it had been, his arms stretched out to either side of him.

Wrath and the witch stood looming over him. Gluttony had wandered away, not in Ling’s direct sight anymore, though he didn’t dare hope he’d gone far.

The pain faded rapidly, energy crackling around him as his body healed, until he felt fine. Better than fine. Maybe better than he’d ever felt in his life.

Ling’s head raised, his eyes looked around, but once again it wasn’t him behind the movements.

“Ling?” Ed asked. “Are you okay?”

Greed looked over at where Ed was still pressed to the floor by one of Envy’s hands. He smiled, and Ling could feel it pulling at his face in a way his own expressions never did.

“Oh, is that his name?” Greed asked. “Sorry, but Ling can’t come to the phone right now. Greed’s running the show from here on out.”

Hey, that’s one of my friends! Ling protested. You said we would–

Shut up and let me sell this, Greed hissed back inside the shared space between their souls.

“Greed,” The witch said. “Welcome back to the family, my son. Your past transgressions shall be forgiven, if you agree to once more work with us for our common goals.”

Ugh, I hate this guy, Greed muttered.

Out loud, he said: “What else could I do, when you’ve so kindly given me a second chance, Father?” He bowed Ling’s head in what might have been a convincing show of respect to someone who couldn’t hear his thoughts. “I promise, I won’t waste my new life.”

“Very good,” the witch hummed his approval. “Then rise, and tell me, how does the new body feel? And what form does the weapon inside you take now?”

“It feels pretty great,” Greed answered as he stood up.

He raised both of Ling’s hands to eye level, and instead of the horrible twisting transformation Ling had been halfway bracing himself for, all that happened was a coal black something covering the skin to about halfway up his arms. The nails grew a bit longer and sharper, but nothing as dramatic as the woman Mustang had killed. (who Ling supposed must be the missing Lust)

“Still got my shield,” Greed added. Obviously, don’t know what else the asshole expected to happen.

“How disappointing,” the witch said. “I had hoped that combining your melted essence with a skilled swordsman such as this one would allow you to take a more useful shape, something suited to attacking rather than weak defense. Still, it can’t be helped I suppose. I can still find use for–”

“Monster!” Lan Fan shrieked from her place against the wall. “Give Ling his body back! Get out of him!”

Greed didn’t turn to look at her.

Ling wished he would, desperate to check on her.

Ling was grateful he didn’t, not wanting to see the pain he could hear in his best friend’s voice on her face.

“Fraid I can’t do that, sweetheart,” Greed drawled. “Not exactly a thing where I can just jump back out of the body once I’m in it, you understand.”

Don’t talk to her like that! Ling snapped, and was surprised to feel his hands twitch in response to his own emotion.

Greed couldn’t jump back out, but maybe Ling could still get back in control.

Stop that! Greed admonished. I told you, I have to sell this. Just trust me for a minute, would you?

The witch turned to regard Lan Fan. “I’m afraid you’ve outlived your usefulness,” he said. “Wrath, dispose of her.”

No! Ling thrashed where he was trapped within his own body, but before he could make any progress, Greed moved.

Taking advantage of the witch’s distraction, the moment Wrath stepped away, Greed plunged one of Ling’s hands into the old man’s chest.

Whatever his shield was made of, it punched through flesh and bone as easily as a knife passing through butter.

“Like I said, Dad,” Greed spat. “I’m not wasting the chance you’ve given me.”

The witch looked very unconcerned for a man with a hand in his chest.

A wave of force slammed into Ling’s body, throwing him and Greed to the floor.

“So disappointing,” the witch sighed. His chest was healing with the same crackling energy that had surrounded Ling’s body moments before. “You do so much for your children, but in the end you can’t prevent them from making the same mistakes again and again. Oh well. Wrath, leave the girl and kill your brother for me.”

Wrath lunged at them, his movements almost too fast to follow. For the second time that day, Ling was in a fight with the ridiculously skilled swordsman, but this time he wasn’t even able to control his body. He had to rely on Greed to dodge and block fast enough, using his shielded hands to deflect blow after blow in a deadly dance.

Can’t you put that shield over more of my body? Ling asked as Wrath managed to cut his face, again. At least this time it healed almost before the pain could register.

That would take too much energy to power it up in the middle of a fight. Greed answered. Still kinda settling into my new body here, you know? This is what we have to work with for now.

Too much energy…

Ling knew one way to boost a weapon’s power and allow for high energy attacks.

I’m going to try soul resonance. Ling said.

No way, Greed argued, ducking a slash from Wrath’s sword so close Ling was pretty sure it cut an inch off his ponytail. We don’t even know if you can match my wavelength, and if you do it wrong the distraction will get us killed!

We’re going to get killed eventually anyway if we do nothing. You can’t keep this up forever. And anyway, if our souls weren’t at least somewhat compatible my body would have rejected you, right?

Maybe? I don’t actually know how that works.

I can do it, Ling said. He couldn’t lie to someone sharing his body like this. He had to make himself believe it. I know I can. Just–trust me for a minute would you?

…Fine, Greed said. But hurry up, alright? You weren’t lying when you said I couldn’t keep this up forever.

Even as Greed spoke, Wrath got another hit in. This time it was on Ling's left arm above the shield, and felt much deeper. It still healed right away, but it was clear that Greed was losing ground.

Ling forced himself to ignore the fight, instead turning his attention to Greed’s soul.

The soul was unfamiliar, and reaching toward it felt strange. Ling didn’t know if that was because it was artificially constructed, or if he just wasn’t used to resonating with someone who wasn’t Lan Fan. She was the only weapon he’d ever worked with before.

(Wrath knocked Greed off balance, and Ling distantly felt himself falling. He didn’t let it distract him.)

Greed’s wavelength was much more aggressive than Lan Fan’s. There was a sense of desperately reaching for something to it, whereas Lan Fan felt more grounded and content.

(Greed hit the floor, and before he could try to get back up or even roll away, Wrath was standing over him, one foot on either side of Ling’s torso, trapping them in place. Ling ignored it.)

And yet, Ling discovered that matching this new wavelength wasn’t as difficult as he’d feared. Even as frenetic as it was, there was a clear opening within it. An empty space that Ling found he slotted into nearly perfectly.

(Wrath’s sword swung down toward their neck.)

Ling’s soul wavelength matched Greeds completely.

The shield spread up from their arms and over their whole body. It reached their neck a millisecond before Wrath’s blade, and the sword snapped on impact.

The shield kept spreading up. Ling felt it cover their head, but he wasn’t thinking about it’s progress anymore.

Wrath stumbled back a step, and they surged to their feet. Ling wasn’t sure who was controlling the body anymore. He didn’t think it even mattered at this point.

This didn’t feel like soul resonance with Lan Fan.

That always felt powerful in a safe familiar way, a close connection with the best friend he’d known his whole life. They worked together well because they had been close for as long as either of them could remember. It was a comfortable teamwork that Ling treasured.

This was something else entirely. Greed’s soul was unfamiliar, and yet it felt like an expansion of Ling’s own. It was brand new and exciting; a little frightening as Ling felt himself swept along Greed’s wavelength, but exhilarating as he could tell Greed was moving along with him just as much. It was a dance, and a struggle for dominance, and an embrace all at once. Ling didn’t know what they would do–what they could do–together, but the possibilities felt endless.

Wrath backed away as they stepped toward him. He threw more blades as they approached, but Ling couldn’t even feel them when they bounced off the shield.

“Oh what the hell?” Envy yelled from where they were still restraining Ed and Al near the door.

There was a noise like cannon fire from that direction, and something exploded against Ling and Greed’s back. It didn’t even break their stride.

The clawed tips of their fingers had grown longer than before. Watching Wrath retreat got abruptly boring, and they rushed forward, sticking those sharp claws into Wrath’s abdomen just below the ribs.

“This is for my friends,” they growled.

Ling didn’t know who’s anger was fueling them more, if they were taking revenge for Lan Fan’s injury or something that had happened in Greed’s past.

It didn’t matter which it was.

It was both.

They lifted their arm and flung Wrath over their head. He flew through the air and collided with the back of the throne with a sickening crunch.

They turned to the witch, but before they could take a step in his direction he made some complicated gesture with his hands and an orb of shimmering red force closed around them.

A soul wavelength painfully disparate from theirs surrounded them on all sides, and the resonance abruptly ended.

They fell to their knees, the impact jarring as the shield retreated to only covering their forearms once again.

Now Ling could tell it was Greed who clapped their hands over their ears against the onslaught.

“That’s enough of your little tantrum,” the witch said, barely even looking at them. “Gluttony, you can eat him.”

“Thank you father!” Gluttony yelled.

Ling couldn’t move. Couldn’t try to wrestle control back from Greed. Could barely think.

He could only watch as Gluttony leapt toward them, grinning and eager to devour them.

And then a blade passed through Gluttony’s head at the level of his eyes.

A blow like that must have severed the monster’s brain.

His body fell to the ground, the smile still wide on the lower half of his face.

Lan Fan stood behind him. Her left arm turned into a blade just below the elbow.

Her right arm was gone from the shoulder, nothing but a bloody stump.

Ling didn’t turn to look, but he was sure the arm was right where it had been, pinned to the wall, and now cut away.

“You will not touch him,” Lan Fan growled. The rage in her voice was like nothing Ling had ever heard.

“Lan Fan,” he gasped out, back in control of his own voice.

“Ling?” Lan Fan’s eyes widened. “You are still in there! Ling, you have to fi–”

“This is completely unacceptable,” the witch said. He was glaring at Lan Fan, showing something other than vague disinterest for the first time since Ling had laid eyes on him.

Now he looked pissed.

“You break into my home. You ransack my research laboratories. And now you kill one of my children.”

He stalked toward Lan Fan as he spoke. She stood firm, but Ling could see her beginning to sway on her feet, the blood loss no doubt catching up to her.

With his focus on Lan Fan, the sphere of disrupting soul wavelength around Greed and Ling began to dissipate. They struggled to their feet.

“This will not stand!” the witch roared, raising his hands in preparation for some spell.

Lan Fan raised her one remaining arm to block whatever was coming.

Whatever it was, they’d never find out.

Greed once again punched through his father’s rib cage with one clawed hand. Not willing to leave anything to chance this time, Ling slashed the claws of their other hand across the back of the witch’s neck, cutting through the spinal cord.

His body tumbled to the floor, and it didn’t move again.

A moment of stunned silence.

Then Envy screamed.

“Greed, you traitor! How dare you side with these worms? I’ll kill you for this!”

They jumped over Ed and Al to rush at Greed.

Before they got there, the wall opposite the door exploded inward, and more teachers from the DWMA poured into the room.

Ling didn’t care to stand and watch the fight that followed. He ran to Lan Fan’s side, just making it in time to catch her as she fell and lower her gently to the floor.

“You idiot,” Ling said, surprised when it came out like a sob. He realized that he was crying. “Why would you cut off your arm for me? You could have died!”

“You could have died,” Lan Fan said.

Ling pulled off his jacket and pressed it against what remained of her shoulder. She cried out in pain, and Ling felt like scum, but he didn’t let up the pressure.

After a few gasping breaths Lan Fan continued: “And I would have had to watch you die, useless and stuck to the wall. This was the only way.”

Ling shook his head. “Still. Your arm–”

“Well I for one am grateful that you saved my ass!” Greed put in, shoving Ling out of control mid-sentence.

Lan Fan narrowed her eyes. “I was saving Ling, not you.”

Greed shrugged casually, but Ling could tell how careful he was not to let the gesture jostle Lan Fan's shoulder where he was still holding the jacket against it.

“Yeah, well. Same ass, so thanks anyway.”

“I hate you,” Lan Fan said, without much force behind it. “Also, I’m going to pass out now, so don’t let Ling die before I wake up.”

“No!” Ling reclaimed control of their body. “Lan Fan, don’t pass out, okay? You need to try to stay awake.”

“Can’t. Sorry,” Lan Fan murmured, and then her eyes closed and her head lolled limply against the ground.

“Lan Fan!” Ling screamed.

Distantly, he was aware of the sounds of fighting coming to a close, of someone–Professor Stein maybe–trying to tug him away from Lan Fan and saying to let him look, of Greed taking back control to make him obey.

He heard Greed in their head more clearly than the noises around them.

Let the doctor guy look at her, Ling. She’ll be okay. She’s tough, I can already tell.

Ling couldn’t pull their eyes away from Lan Fan. He appreciated Greed trying to comfort him, but he couldn’t answer.

He wouldn’t believe she’d be okay until he saw her awake again. And until then, nothing else mattered.

—

Lan Fan woke up the next day.

Ling and Greed were sitting in a chair they’d dragged next to her bed in the infirmary. They’d refused to leave her side since she’d been out of surgery.

A few times some of the higher ranking meisters and death scythes had tried to draw them away for a debrief, but they’d refused to go.

Surprisingly, Professor Hawkeye had taken their side. Glaring from where she sat in her own chair beside Mustang’s bed, she snapped at the would-be interrogators to have some patience and respect.

Ling was pretty sure they wouldn’t have been allowed to stay no matter how much he wanted them to if she hadn’t stepped in.

He promised himself to always pay attention in her class from now on, and never let any other students get away with badmouthing her.

Lan Fan woke slowly, and smiled when she saw Ling leaning over her, hovering with indecision between running to get help and staying by her side.

Then the smile fell away, and she looked down at where her arm should be. Where it never would be again.

Ling cleared his throat. “Winry can make you a new one, once you’ve healed. Like Ed’s.”

“Right,” Lan Fan agreed. Her voice sounded hollow.

Greed slid into control of the body, and Ling felt a shit eating grin grow across their face.

“You should have her make you something with spikes and flames and shit. Something real cool, better than the old boring one.”

Lan Fan turned and glared at Greed. “I don’t want your opinion on what I do with my arm.”

She was angry, but Ling thought she might also be glad for the distraction. At the very least there was life in her eyes again.

Greed shrugged. “Fine, do what you want. Get a lame normal prosthetic and waste the chance of a lifetime for badass body modification. See if I–”

“So,” Ling interrupted before Lan Fan could decide to try and strangle Greed one handed. “You’ll never believe what stupid shit I heard Black Star and Kid got up to this time.”

—

They were still talking about nothing important, Ling holding Lan Fan’s hand, a few hours later when the door to the infirmary opened and Stein walked in.

Ling couldn’t say he was a fan of Stein’s bedside manner. The man always gave the impression that he’d rather peel your skin off and look at what was under it than give you a bandaid(not least because he occasionally waxed poetic about the joys of peeling skin off to look at what was under it), but he was the closest thing the school had to medical professional after the former nurse turned out to be a crazy snake witch bent on plunging the world into madness.

And, to be fair, he never actually experimented on any of the students in his care.

As far as Ling knew.

So he assumed the man was there to check up on Lan Fan or Mustang, and didn’t pay him any mind.

Until Lord Death himself walked in behind him.

It was rare to see their school’s headmaster outside of his office. He only made visits to other areas when something very important came up. And since there wasn’t an imminent threat to existence as they knew it, that could only mean that they were in big trouble.

“Hi, howdy, hello, everyone!” Lord Death greeted them brightly. “I hear you young people have had quite the adventure.”

Ling wished he could take the good mood as a sign he wasn’t about to be expelled, or arrested, or worse, but Lord Death was always like that.

Before Ling could figure out a safe answer, Greed took control again.

“Oh, now what the fuck are you?”

“Shut up!” Ling hissed, shoving Greed back out of the way. “Lord Death, I apologize. He didn’t mean it how it sounded, really! Please forgive–”

“No need for that, Ling,” Lord Death said, waving an oversized hand dismissively. “I know the way I present myself is less than impressive. Don’t want to scare the students, after all! And that little outburst did prove that what the Elrics said was true. You really do have someone else rattling around in that head of yours.”

Ling could feel Greed trying to get control again, no doubt to insult Lord Death again, but he held his ground. That surprised Greed enough that he stopped reaching to take over.

What gives, Ling, he complained.

Lord Death is in charge of this school, Ling explained. He can expel me–or throw us both in a cell–if he wants, so please just stay quiet for now.

That’s in charge? Greed asked. This place is even weirder than the old man’s hideout. But fine, whatever, I’ll be good.

Lord Death turned to Stein. “Is there anything that can be done? I hate the thought of leaving the poor Yao boy stuck like this.”

That was marginally insulting.

Stein shook his head. “Unfortunately, no," he intoned, absentmindedly tightening the screw through his cranium. "As far as I’m aware, there’s no way to separate a meister and weapon who have been fused like this. I’ve been looking into it for Crona, and I haven’t been able to make any progress. It doesn’t help that I can’t experiment on them.” At everyone in the room’s concerned looks, he quickly tacked on: “Not that I would. They’ve had enough experimenting in their life, and respect their bodily autonomy. And Marie would kill me if I tried it.”

“Lord Death, Professor Stein, we don’t want to be separated,” Ling said.

Everyone turned to look at him like he’d grown a second head.

“It’s–I know I didn’t ask for this,” Ling tried to explain. “But Greed and I work well together. We get along. And, especially if trying to break us apart would be dangerous, I’d rather we stay this way.”

You really mean that? Greed asked. Ling could feel the disbelief coming off him in waves.

With a sinking heart, Ling realized he’d never actually talked to Greed about this.

I do, Ling said because it was true. But I guess I shouldn’t speak for both of us. If you want your own body, we can see if Stein–

“You heard him, we’re staying like this,” Greed said like he was daring anyone to argue with him.

Lord Death sighed. “No offense intended, Greed was it? But you are an unknown entity, one we have no experience with, and it would be irresponsible of me to endanger my students by–”

Hawkeye snorted, which was the most undignified and unprofessional thing Ling had ever witnessed her do.

“Endanger how? With all due respect, Lord Death, he’s been here for over 24 hours already and all he’s done is sit by Lan Fan’s bedside and make a few jokes in poor taste. If he meant to pose a threat, surely he’d have done so by now.”

“Professor Hawkeye is right,” Lan Fan spoke up. “Greed has done nothing to hurt any of us. He didn’t choose to be fused with Ling, and Ling would have died–we all would have died–if Greed hadn’t killed Wrath and the witch. If–” Lan Fan paused, her voice suddenly very watery.

Ling was alarmed to see tears gathering in her eyes.

Lan Fan swallowed heavily before continuing. “If Ling wants Greed to be his new weapon now that I’m crippled, then–”

“No,” Ling interrupted her. “No, no way Lan Fan! I’d never abandon you like that! You’re my best friend. Greed may have helped me kill the witch, but I got those other 99 souls with you. We started this journey together, and that’s how we’ll finish it!”

“But you said–”

“Death the Kid has two weapons. I don’t see why I can’t do the same.” Ling placed a hand on her hair. “You’re not getting rid of me that easily. I think the three of us could be a really good team. If that’s okay with the two of you?”

Lan Fan sniffled and nodded.

Greed took back over the body, and smiled in a way Ling didn’t trust.

“Fine by me,” Greed said. “I’m always down for a three way.”

Ling shoved him to the back of their mindscape.

“Ew! Don’t phrase it like that!”

Lan Fan just laughed.

Ling was shocked by that reaction, but also grateful to Greed for making it happen. It was the first time he’d heard her laugh since things started going bad at the witch’s stronghold.

“Alright, you’ve convinced me!” Lord Death said. “Greed can stay, and be enrolled as another student of the DWMA. I always do love giving people a chance. Of course you know, Ling, this means you’ll have to get double the souls of all the other meister students. 99 kishin eggs and one witch apiece.”

Ling nodded. “That’s very fair, Lord Death. I can handle that. After all, Lan Fan and I already got her 99, and Greed and I killed a witch.”

“Well, actually,” Lord Death started, and Ling could already tell he would hate the rest of this sentence. “Since you went after a witch and failed to kill him with Lan Fan’s blade, the two of you will have to start over.”

“What!” Ling and Lan Fan screeched in perfect unison.

“Yes, I know it’s no fun, but them’s the rules!” Lord Death said. “The same applies to the Elric boys. Let that be a lesson for you all about stowing away on missions you’ve been told you’re not ready for!”

“Also, not to kick you when you’re down,” Greed put in. “But everyone keeps talking about me and Ling killing the witch, and he is for sure not dead.”

“Huh? But we stabbed in the heart and cut his spine!”

“Yeah, and did you see a soul?” Greed asked. “He figured out how to siphon most of it off for safekeeping in a different container ages ago. That’s what all the tubes were for. You were kind of checked out, but I saw Envy get away with his body and Wrath. They definitely retrieved the soul before they booked it to another safe house. Oh, Wrath also isn’t dead. His brain was still attached and he wasn’t a pile of ash, so he can heal.”

“Oh god, this is the worst,” Ling groaned, putting his head in his hands.

Lan Fan patted him on the back, and Greed did the mental equivalent of the same.

“We can handle it,” Lan Fan said.

“Oh yeah, it’ll be no problem,” Greed put in.

Ling supposed that, if he had to start from square one on gathering twice the souls he’d thought he’d ever need and eventually deal with an ancient witch’s inevitable revenge plot, he could at least do so with good company.

“Yeah, you’re right,” Ling said. “We’ve totally got this.”

#greedxlingweek2024 #fma #greed fma #ling yao #greedling #lan fan #edward elric #alphonse elric #soul eater #but don't expect any soul eater characters to show up for more than 2 seconds #oh crossover that'll be easy i thought #i love so many characters with a gay ass body sharing situation!#i'll just do a quick little scene of them talking to eddie and venom or jaime and khaji da #and it'll be no prob-#inspiration grabbing me by the throat and looking me dead in the eyes: soul eater universe fusion #me: but that's so much work and i haven't even watched soul eater all the way through since highschool couldnt i just #inspiration tightening its grip with every word: soul. eater. universe. fusion. or nothing.#this got a little out of hand #the concept was so cool and i wanted to explore it #and then i'd written 3 thousand words before greed even showed up #the yapper strikes again #anyway like i said i haven't watched soul eater in ages #so if you see anything that doesn't make sense within the rules of that universe #no you don't

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