#im emotional your honor

[candlewick-corporation]

🎶 owo

Ok ur getting 2!

send 🎶 for a song that reminds me of your muse

Fish in a birdcage

(For early in life, softly implies she and roman knew eachother before academy)

I'm a fish inside a birdcage.

My brother always sings me songs,

With his beak, he tries to soothe me.

He makes me feel that I belong.

He has a wild imagination and tells me things that must be true.

Like there's a world where I can take flight, where I can freely move.

So carry me from these walls, Brother of mine.

Show me the world outside.

.·͙̩̩͙˚̩̥̩̥̩̩̥͙　✩　̩̩̥͙˚̩̥̩̥̩̩͙‧͙ .

Glowing by the Oh Hellos

Well, you'll stand like you stood as a babe

Tugging at the houseplants all on your own

Honest and truly.

You'll rise like land pulled up at the sound

Of some strange commandment.

A moon alight, reflecting fully

And I guess it would feel like rebirth out of some kind of dying

To see yourself so glowing.

[whumpypepsigal]

That you mean everything to me I love you deeply, Rose.

[samsheughan]

Sam Heughan ↳ Gold Derby | Hublander -> February 27, 2024

[sacredfixation]

Loki fixes his jacket, Mobius doesn't look, and I fall apart

I was in the midst of making a thirst edit for loki, I was just admiring loki being unfairly attractive when I ended with anything but a thirst edit and got emotionally devastated instead.

I refer to that little moment of Loki straightening himself out. First, when he's trying to find his footing at the TVA. When he first puts on his jacket, its this smooth, practiced motion, he sweeps that hair back, adjusts his lapels, chin up, like he's slipping into a role, trying to play along, trying to present himself as someone in control even though he is anything but.

And mobius, watching him, already amused, interested.. and Loki sees that, clocks it, gives that tiny little 'oh you like this?' smile.

Then cut to Dons timeline and tell me why Loki does the exact same motion, only this time, its hesitant. In the TVA it was almost performative, like he was trying to present himself well.

But Dons timeline? its more tentative, like he's nervous, like he wants to get it right.. Because now it isn't just some TVA game. This is Mobius, living a quiet human life that Loki isn't apart of. Its almost like Loki's bracing himself before stepping back into something he knows he can't stay in.

And Mobius-Don- god. Mobius doesn't clock it this time. Because this isn't that kind of story anymore. Theres no knowing little smirk, no teasing remark- just Don, squinting at Loki like a stranger.

Its the tragedy of the saddest little muscle memory. The way Loki's hands move before he could ever even realise why. Because once upon a time, in a place that doesn't exist anymore, he did this exact thing. He straightened his jacket, swept his hair back and looked up- and Mobius was there.

Watching him. noticing him. Seeing him.

Mobius doesn't see him this time. Not in the way he used to. And yet, Loki straightens his jacket. Because some part of Loki remembers what it was like to be looked at by him.

[just-null]

I WANT TO WISH U A HAPPY NY🎉🎄!! (now in my country they celebrate🥲)I'M GLAD TO MEET UR BLOG. THIS IS THE CUTEST N MOST WONDERFUL BLOG. I very rarely see creativity with our sweet Nori!! But when I saw your blog, I was so happy!! I hope that in the future the blog will develop and thnq, dear froggy, for pleasing our eyes!!😭😭😭💗💗YOU'RE THE SUN & THE CHARM!!(◡‿◡✿)

*sorry for my strange english, I have problems w/ it 😞*

HAPPY END OF YEAR TO ALL OF YOU

Your english is lovely, dw. tysm for finding my cult in this corner and liking what you found! Also for reminding me today is the last day of the year (my time)

aint no fucking way am i gonna allow this cult having more depictions of me than Noritoshi fucking Kamo. So i present to you, my beloved cult members, a bunch of doodles i have of Noritoshi.

there is no particular order

[tremendously-crazy]

Relationship envy except I envy the bond between iconic fictional characters Sherlock Holmes and Dr. Watson

[livelovecaliforniadreams]

#Just You Wait Kid

+Bonus

[sharksandjays]

Alright here we go, another ramble. (I'm gonna be known for these by now aksdj)

This time it's about the OG four. So as I was thinking about them today I really thought about how much of a connection they have compared to their connection with Lloyd, Nya, etc.

(Now look, this ramble has no hate towards them, in fact, I think that Lloyd, Nya, and Pixal have their own little mini family dynamic going on that I absolutely adore!)

But as I was thinking about It I realized it was because its true. They do have more of a connection, because they have more of a history. Especially with the OG 3, they had known eachother for a while (the timing is debated but I personally think years) before Kai and his sister were introduced, and whenever they were, Kai was accepted almost immediately. Those four were raised together in a confined space, trained together, and went on missions together. Of course they'd be tight knit! Nya was with them, yes, but in the show they hardly interacted (evident with the fact they didnt notice she was the samurai) and she had her own room while they all slept in one. She would also usually hang back on missions, usually alongside lloyd whenever he finally joined the group.

Those four definitely have a real connection, and I think in a way it could be power based. You see, the element of Creation used to be encompassed in a single person, Master Wu. I'm not necessarily sure how, but I perosnally believe that Wu seperated his power as a teen and hid it within 4 individuals, similar to what he did to the golden weapons. (this is why we rarely see him use his powers now, and when we do theyre very small scale.) But because of this, these four people would naturally be drawn together! Their elements crave connection, creation. We see this with the fact the tornado of creation can exist, its literally the connection of their elements.

They are soulmates, all four of them. This isnt polyninja agenda (or is it) its just facts. Lloyd is their baby brother, Nya is their little sister/soulmate, Pixal is a welcome part of the family, etc. But these four are what started the show, what made the ninja ninja. That's why i appreciated Hunted so much. We saw them just being them four again, their relationship and interactions with just eachother, something we rarely see nowadays with ninjago's obsession with them and girls.

I dont like to phrase it as a "boy club" that Nya phrases it as in skybound. I just think its what happens when you stick four little kids together in a confined space and raise them like that. They just tend to connect on a deeper level than those around them.

Anyways. OG Four Soulmates Agenda.

[liakunemui]

"We should have taken more pictures together."

"We should have taken better ones."

Some of my favorite details are, of course, the bedrockbros at the bottom left. And the L'manberg sticker purposefully slashed. Then on the top right is most likely an image of a young Wilbur with Phil's crows, (always a sprinkle of sbi) so it looks older than the rest. The state of the photos depend on the time they were taken. (yes)

I think I drew this around december of 2022. It still remains to be one of my favorites.

"We should have taken more pictures together." Tommy said. I wish we had more time.

"We should have taken better ones." Wilbur replied. I wish we could've been better to each other.

[mrinafria]

Marriagecore SolJae.

New parents SolJae.

Im Sol struggling with the baby, and Seon Jae coming in to save his Sol-ah (because she's already done more than he could ask for by agreeing to date him, love him, be with him, marry him and have babies with him). Seon Jae the appa coming in after having thoroughly read and researched parenting books, how-tos, tutorials, attending workshops and seminars, talking to as many parents as possible, joining group chats for new parents across all social media, just so he could learn how to hold their baby, calm the baby down and take care of their baby and maybe flex his knowledge before Im Sol trying to look cool because loserism is a chronic illness.

Seon Jae striking a conversation with other parents/eavesdropping during shoots, events, social settings etc. while others are talking to learn more about baby poopoo and what is healthy or not.

Im Sol just being done with these TWO babies but also ready to headbutt anyone anywhere if they dare hurt either of them.

Look at the hint of smile on Woo Seok's face. These two knew exactly what they were doing in this scene.

Something tells me the show did this so they could cop out of showing SolJae babies for real because we only have ONE episode left. Let me be wrong please T_T

[because-she-goes]

bfaifl my beloved <333

[ivoryratdoggerythethird]

reading dazai, chuuya, age fifteen for the finally and now i'm just mad i didn't read it earlier like

first of all why does this have the best first chapter of all time ever like this french waiter lookin ass nameless grunt looks like he smakes cigars and shotguns with hiroutsu tell me i'm wrong you can't

and chuuya chuuya chuuya chuuya chUUYA OH MY BELOVED i am suddenly personally connected with dazai on a spiritual level because i too would become obsessed with this dude if he stomped on my face. i'm already obsessed without him stomping on my face.

ALSO WHY DOES NO ONE TALK ABOUT THIS WHY IS THE ENTIRE FANDOM SLEEPING ON THESE PANELS

"what's wrong? i'm just on my tippy toes" chuuya sweetie i am going to go fucking FERAL

ballerina chuuya agenda real

also

everyone else go home like i'm sorry i really am. kunikida babe i love you with a gun dazai you look good with one too tachihara you're my baby but like none of you ever use bullets again please your fully grown asses are embarrassing once i've met fifteen year old chuuya catching bullets in his mouth and blowing back a literal kiss of death back at you like look at his hand at the end there, i'm losing my mind

[worldsokayestdragon]

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. 

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.

[mossterunderthebed]

Ever since I saw this comic I always somehow manage to write Yuuji and Ieri as friends.

Not necessarily super close or anything but like... sit in silence together, reminisce about the good times, swallow your sorrow and choke on silence buddies. Unwilling, tortured survivors.

They were there for each other when nobody else was. Because everyone was gone.

I don't know why but their relationship is Very Important to me.

"Please drink some water, Ieri-san," Ijichi says, offering a bottle of water with a deep crease between his brows. Always awkward, that one. Shoko doesn't know why he even tries. She should probably be grateful that someone in this hellscape does.

Utahime crouches beside her, reaching out to warm a patch of her arm. Good old Utahime. Soft hands, soft heart, soft voice. "Shoko, we need to move somewhere safe. Can you walk?"

She stays still long enough that they leave her alone, hunched on the floor. Alone alone alone. Hollow puppets, walking along; march in time. One by one, two by two. Cut strings left and right.

Who's gonna cut her strings? She's ready. Why's it just her? Picking up messes and dealing with the fallout, it's been this way since high school. She should've known. Bastards. Bastard.

She can't even cry.

Bastard.

"We're leaving now, Ieri-san," a voice says, youthful and bright-edged. Hoarse. She'd recognize those dulcet tones anywhere, even colored with so much grief. Itadori. "I'll carry you. Please tell me if you're uncomfortable."

She's lifted by strong arms, stronger than a teenager has any right to be. The day he ended up in her morgue, Satoru grinning with glass teeth as he contemplated mass murder, she'd thought he was another kid gone too soon. Haibara two point oh. Now she realizes she was wrong.

Try Satoru the second. She should have known.

What a legacy. What a damn- ahh, fuck. She doesn't have the energy to philosophize. Doesn't have the energy for anything, so she doesn't bother to fight as he carries her away, moving yet again, trying to find some safe haven that no longer exists, some hopeful ending that'll never come, no matter how many curses go down.

Heal, succeed; heal, fail; heal, sleep; heal, smoke; again again again. Never-ending. She can't figure out the point anymore.

Her best friends are dead.

She turns her head, tucking her face into Itadori's shoulder as he carries her, silent and solemn, like a wake. A witness to her own funeral, how perfect. The reverse curse user; she was always going to be the last to go. Maybe it was her destiny to witness the falling of a dynasty. Which god does she curse for this?

"We're all alone, huh, Itadori-kun?" She murmurs into the worn flesh of his uniform.

He doesn't reply.

It's not like she blames him. What the hell is there to say? But after a moment, his hands shift to grip her a little tighter, a little more secure, and by some miracle, when she drops off to sleep, she doesn't dream.

[maxintime]

If i had a nickel for everytime my favorite gay actors play in a series about murder that i cant handle to watch id have two nickel which is sad because i genuinely want to see more of their acting but im a weak ass

[paingoes]

Crash Out

Defense

(Content: minor physical violence, guilt…?)

They knew better than to step foot in a population centre, but sometimes it couldn��t be helped. It never went without incident. The only bright side was that the most inexperienced people were always the quickest to jump. Paris could handle, for the most part. It was easier now that he was expecting it. And he did expect it. All the time. 

Most days, they were just scuffles. He knew how to weave out of them. The most that he typically felt afterwards was the disgust and the indignity. Neither of those were going to kill him, probably. But he worried about Lorelai. She was always taking the brunt of it just for the crime of being around him. She kept getting boxed in. Paris would try to cut their fucking hands off when they touched her, escalating the situation, letting it devolve into total chaos. Lorelai herself wasn’t badly hurt, but she was pretty shaken up. She was a glass cannon. It was bothering him just how easy she was to take down when she was unarmed. 

He’d had her pinned down in the desert at night. The touch wasn’t nearly enough to hurt, but it didn’t take a lot of pressure to restrain her. With her, it would always come down to technique.

“Like this?” Her hand came down over his wrist.

“Other arm. Tuck your elbows in more. Yeah, perfect. Go.”

She rolled over, forcing him down beneath her into the sand. She blushed a little. He’d avoiding putting any real weight on her, but after she shifted their position, she was straddling him. He tried not to react — the contact was inevitable and it wasn’t the point. She slid off. They readjusted.

“Do you really not know any of this? How did you even get the phys ed credit?” He pinned her arm behind her back. 

“I just told him I was on my period.” She slipped out of the lock.

“Everyday?”

“Mhm. My dad taught me how to box though. He said I needed to, cause my mouth was so smart.”

“Can you box?” He raised an eyebrow. That’d actually be useful.

“Wanna find out?” She smirked.

He shook his head. “No. You’d kick my ass.”

She laughed. The sound carried across the empty desert. He shifted their positions again. Her eyes lit up with recognition.

“Wait, I do know this one.” She contorted her body enough to drive her knee directly into his sternum. It was the right move, but he was going to warn her to pull it a little. Too late. He rolled back onto the sand.

“Oh! Did I hurt you?” Her hand flew to cover her mouth, concern etched onto her features.

“That’s kinda the point,” He wheezed. 

“I thought it was self defense.” She crawled closer to him.

“The point is to disengage. Most people will only stop when it becomes too painful to continue.” He forced himself to sit up. It took him a while to recover his breath.

“I can show you how to get out of chokeholds, if you want?” He offered. His hand traced the site of the impact.

“Yeah. Go for it.” She nodded.

He sat up on his knees. The way the sand scraped against the birdseye mesh of his pants made a strange and pleasant noise. She rolled up, matching his posture. 

“You’re really supposed to do this with a wall. I guess it’s fine here.” He placed his fingers gingerly around his neck. It…didn’t feel right. On some level, he was still trying to avoid the collar. He pulled his hand back before he could even apply pressure. “Fuck it. Nevermind.”

She unfolded back onto the sand. If she had sense of what had just happened, she didn’t acknowledge it. She took another sip from the borg gallon. Her attention had turned to the fire.

“Did you know that some species of trees can only release their seeds when there’s a forest fire? They can’t reproduce otherwise.” She hummed. “We probably aren’t even allowed to have a campfire out here, come to think of it.“

“Not like there’s anything to kill.” He shrugged.

He poked at the embers idly. He’d had to bring the stick from another planet — the firewood too. Nothing grew on this one. Lorelai got to her feet. She put the gallon back into the ship and retrieved her pajamas from her bag. After she had changed, she brushed her teeth and spit the ginger remnants out onto the sand. Finally, she pulled a water jug out from the ship and a thick jacket over her head. The desert was as cold as it was dry. The chill creeped in only a few meters from the campfire. She dropped back down beside it, right atop of her sleeping bag. 

“Can you braid my hair?” She asked. Paris blinked in surprise.

“Um. Yeah?”

She leaned over. He scooted closer to her, taking the water from her outstretched hand and the hair ties from around her wrists. It wasn’t like she needed help. She’d done it alone every night before then. Still, he separated the hair into even strands. He combed his fingers through them, trying to brush out the sand that had gotten caught there. He formed two loose braids down her back. She sighed contentedly and curled up within the sleeping bag. 

“You staying up?” She mumbled.

“Yeah.” There was zero chance he’d be caught sleeping out in the open like this. He was fine keeping watch. The desert sightlines were perfect, anyway.

“Okay. Goodnight.” She turned over. She held one hand out to him from beneath the blankets, tapping all her fingers against her thumb.

“Hm?” He didn’t understand what she was asking for.

She took his hand and pulled it right beside her pillow. She didn’t let go of it even after she fell asleep. 

The softness made him feel sick enough to die.

……..

tags:

@catnykit @snakebites-and-ink @vivulapom @scoundrelwithboba @whatwhump

@pumpkin-spice-whump @deluxewhump @fuckass1000 @fuckcapitalismasshole @defire

@micechomper @writereleaserepeat