#implied forced relationships

[envy-of-the-apple]

Moon Starves Sun

Dark!Gojo Satoru x reader

Part one: Sun Eats Moon

Part two: Earth Kills Moon

Part three: Moon Starves Sun(Full part)

Synopsis: The aftermath of 'Sun Eats Moon' in Satoru's perspective.

(Warnings: implied sex, forced relationships)

When Satoru's close like this, he can hear your heartbeat. 

It's been a while. Ten years. An entire decade. Everything about this is different, yet so familiar. He feels like he's finally reached the shores, feeling the warm sands underneath his feet. Like he's been given his favorite food after being starved for years. Everything melts. Everything except for you. 

He'd like to stay like this forever, listening to your rabbit heartbeat, feeling your soft skin, but for your sake, he pulls himself off you. Lying on a wooden desk probably isn't that comfortable. 

Your eyes are shut. Your breathing is shallow. You're so pretty like this under the moonlight. Your clothes are barely hanging onto your body. He can see every mark he's left on you. Part of him wants to make more, but he'll let you off the hook for now. He's nice like that. 

"Still with me?" 

Your eyes flutter open. You don't respond, but at least you're not crying anymore. He can work with that. 

"C'mon, pretty girl," he says, voice soft, "let's piece you back together." 

The belt left lines on your wrists. He'll kiss them better later. For now, Satoru collects your clothes and heels from the floor, placing them on the desk. He helps you reclasp your bra, runs his fingers on your arms when you finish buttoning your blouse. It's a quiet affair. Every so often, he'd catch your eyes. You don't let yourself linger for long. Satoru finds that a little cute. 

You say nothing when he wraps an arm around your waist, guiding you out of his office. Maybe you're still dazed, still gathering yourself back up, because you don't struggle as much as he predicted. You try to leave his grip when the two of you reach the lobby. He's quick to stop you. 

"Where, do you think you're goin'?" He grips your wrist when you take a step away. 

You look at him, eyes shimmering like water. 

You swallow. "My apartment. I—I need to go back—" 

He clicks his tongue, bringing you back in. 

"We can get your stuff later." He tells you with a grin. "let's just go home, tonight. I'm exhausted." 

You open your mouth. Satoru waits. You say nothing, and he thinks you're starting to get it. 

The moon is a dusky red tonight. Satoru thinks it's an ugly color. 

☾

If Satoru could describe you in one word, it would be: predicatable. 

Normal, boring, a speck in the crowd—none of these are bad things. Just like how much of the universe is nothing, you're an empty void, too. Not everyone can be like him. From the minute he was born, Satoru was destined for greatness—a prodigy, heir to a millionaire conglomerate, the Sun itself. His life isn't written on his forehead for everyone to read. 

You are the exact opposite. Completely unassuming. He practically knows everything about you without even having to ask. 

Like how Satoru can instantly tell you've never been over to a boy's room before. 

You've probably never even been in a relationship before him, either. Even before he managed to corral you into his arms, you were always so annoying about the other things like school and friends. Though, you don't really have much of the latter anymore. His fault, Suguru never fails to remind him. 

He watches as your eyes linger over his shelf: the numerous trophies and awards. You're still standing meekly in the corner, still garbed in your school uniform, clutching your backpack. He has to roll his eyes at how obviously you're trying not to look at him. 

"What're you waitin' for?" He finally asks. You jump, eyes flitting over to find him before you find the floor. He resists the urge to roll his eyes again.

It's not like you two haven't done shit before. You sucked him off twice now, and he's finger fucked you against the bleachers. You should really stop being such a prude. 

"C'mere, pretty girl." 

***full version of pt 3 is on a03 and account restricted. in the process of censoring the fic so it can be posted on tumblr**

[absolute-flaming-trash]

Pairing: Yandere!Alastor x Reader

SFW

Word Count: 2'627

Warnings: Yandere behaviour, Implied forced relationship, Implied captivity, Toxic relationship, Possessiveness, Invasion of personal space, Non-consensual touching.

Additional Notes: Do be kind, I have not written for this man before and find him exceedingly difficult.

Every week at the Hotel, there was something new Charlie had planned.

Trust exercises. Ice breakers. Activities meant to bring everybody closer together as a group. To try and get people to open up and show a side of vulnerability that - she believed - would help sinners take one step closer to salvation.

Most of them were awkward, and a lot of them never went as planned. A fact she realized and, after a near mental breakdown, had her promptly take advice from Vaggie and agree to try something different.

The task was very simple compared to the previous activities. She requested everybody to think about redemption and what it meant to them.

Thinking about the definition itself took little to no effort.

Redemption (noun): The action of saving or being saved from sin, error, or evil.

But it was clear that Charlie wanted more than just a quote from the dictionary. She wanted residents of the Hotel to mull over it while looking deep down into themselves so they could share their stance on the matter later on.

That was the tricky part.

From how you saw it, “saving yourself” from sin was easy enough to accomplish. ‘Just don’t be a dick and avoid the bad shit.’ was the first thought that came to mind, but where you hit a snag was based on what Charlie had shared about Heaven. According to her, even so much as breathing in Hell was enough to solidify your place in the inferno, yet she made it clear that actively resisting sin wasn’t something to go unrecognized.

It took a lot of effort, energy, and courage to do so, and it was hard to disagree even if Heaven didn’t see it that way.

Error was a bit harder. In your opinion, nobody could be saved from that, at least not entirely. Eventually, inevitably, you or someone else would do something wrong, it was just a matter of degree. It could be something as minor as bumping into somebody by accident or as major as Angel relapsing for what felt like the hundredth time, but it would happen and it was only a matter of time.

Charlie did bring up a rather good point, though. Apologizing when you realized you had done something wrong was the best thing someone could do, and it was the first step in the right direction.

You had to give her credit where it was due for that.

But evil was a different matter entirely.

Evil lurked everywhere in Hell. Across every street, around every corner, evil was out in the open for everyone to bear witness and see. None of it was hidden. None of it was meant to be hidden.

What would be the point? You and every other sinner were already in Hell - and many would argue that hiding it would be counterintuitive to being there in the first place.

Charlie tried to plead the case that everyone had good in them. A good that could be tweezed out if given the right chance, and the right environment, which the Hotel was perfect for.

You wish you could agree.

Evil was in the hotel itself, not that Charlie was fully willing to see it.

You believed she was careless there. Little Miss Bleeding Heart wanted to see the best in people, and by god did you ever want to know what it was like to see through such rose-tinted glasses, but you knew you never could. Not in this place.

Stepping a foot into the building was the worst thing you’d ever done because it showed you just how wrong you were about evil being so out in the open. It still had the ability to lurk, something you learned the moment you shook hands with Alastor.

You could see it on his face upon meeting him for the first time - the way Alastor’s perpetual grin widened upon seeing the goosebumps that lined your arms when he clasped your hand in his. No comment was ever made on the matter, but the way his lips peeled back to reveal the black of his gums before he pressed a brief kiss to your knuckles said enough.

Something utterly sinister reeked from him in a manner you couldn’t describe, so you took your own advice and applied the same thing you did when it came to sin.

Avoidance. As much as you could, at least.

Some moments were easier than others. The distinct metallic clack of Alastor’s microphone against the floor combined with a surge of radio static usually bought enough time for you to make whatever excuse you needed in order to leave before he arrived.

Other times you weren’t so lucky, and Charlie’s group meetings were usually to blame in that regard.

At first, you made a great deal of effort to put as much distance between yourself and the Radio Demon as you could, which worked for a time. Unfortunately, Alastor caught onto what you were doing much faster than you would’ve liked.

He reveled in it. You knew he did. After a while you had the gnawing suspicion he was purposefully going out of his way to make you as uncomfortable as possible for his own entertainment. You saw no other reason as to why he’d consistently move so close to you that you could literally feel him breathing down your neck.

Lately, he had adopted the skin-crawling habit of locking eyes with you the moment you stepped foot in the room and patting the seat beside him - reserved specifically for you. Accepting the gesture felt like swallowing nails, but being openly rude to Alastor was something that you knew better than to do.

Instead, you began to find excuses for skipping the meetings entirely and have Angel or Husker fill you in later, which was exactly what you were doing now.

“To be honest I wasn’t payin’ much attention,” Angel said while he scrolled through his phone, resting his chin in his upper left hand while his lower right swirled alcohol around in a glass. “Was the kind of thing that could’ve been sent in an email.”

You traced your finger around the rim of your own glass, its contents untouched. “Still, I want to know what I missed.”

“He’s right, it wasn’t anything special,” Husker replied, slinging a cloth over his shoulder from behind the bar. “Same old bullshit about salvation with a new coat of paint on top.”

A pang went through your chest, but you pushed it down. “So nothing new?”

Angel scoffed and looked up from his phone. “Trust me, dollface, you did yourself a favor.” He downed the rest of his drink in one go. “What were you doing anyways?”

“You know…” You replied with a shrug, glancing down. “I went out.”

Angel smirked, raising an eyebrow. “Out?”

“Yeah.” You tapped your nails against the edge of the glass. “Things were feeling a little claustrophobic, so I went out for some air.”

Husker made a noise in the back of his throat. “Yeah, I know how you feel, kid. This place is a mess.”

Angel tilted his head, placing his phone down on the bar and leaning forward a bit. “So where’d you go? Anywhere fun?”

“Where indeed~.”

All your movements went rigid. After a few seconds, you slowly turned your head to look over your shoulder to see Alastor standing barely a foot away from you, staring down at you with a tight, closed-lipped smile. You hadn’t heard him coming in the slightest, which you immediately could tell was intentional.

Whether he’d used his shadow or had actually stalked up behind you wasn’t something you wanted to think about, and if Angel or Husker picked up on the immediate tension, neither of them said anything about it.

“Hey, Smiles.” Angel greeted with his usual flirtation, placing the elbows of his upper arms on the bartop as he turned to face Alastor. “Fancy a drink? You look a little stiff” He gave Alastor a very long once over, “and I’ll have you know I know a few ways I can help relieve some… tension.” 

Alastor’s lips curled back to reveal his teeth, the muscle in his cheek spasming for a moment.

Mentally you were kissing Angel on the cheek for the save as you slowly picked your coat up off the bar and slipped it on, concealing the goosebumps already present on your skin. Husker gave you a glance from the side and gave a very slight shake of his head, silently advising you against your unspoken desire to leave.

“I assure you, such a thing is never going to happen.~”

“You sure?” Angel rested his lower right arm on his hip. “I have a few tricks that can loosen you up.”

The leather in Alastor’s gloves audibly squeaked as his grip tightened around the staff of his microphone and his attention immediately shifted back to you, ignoring Angel entirely.

“My dear,” His voice dripped with such a saccharine sweetness it made you feel sick, “Could I speak with you for a moment?”

Fewer combinations of words could instill such a unique feeling of encroaching dread all at once, but you refused to let it show as you nodded and turned your body on the bar stool to face him fully; waiting for him to say the first word.

His eye twitched ever so slightly.

“Privately.”

That made you swallow.

“Sure.” You slid off the bar stool, doing your best not to appear as reluctant as you felt.

“Lovely.~” He said, promptly turning on his heel and walking towards the staircase - expecting you to follow.

You glanced back towards Husker and Angel, each giving you looks of grim sympathy and confusion respectively before you took a deep breath and forced one foot in front of the other, following Alastor up the steps.

You thought he would talk along the way. Engage in some form of idle chit-chat where he’d be pulling the strings, or even hum along to the countless jazz tunes that he played in the halls over the Hotel’s sound system.

But no such music played and he remained silent. A few minutes into the walk you gathered enough courage to glance up at him and found his eyes locked straight forward, not even sparing you so much as a glance.

You averted your gaze, the hem of your sleeves suddenly the most fascinating thing you’d ever seen.

Eventually, he came to a stop, and he held out the end of his microphone to prevent you from going any further down the hallway.

“Here we are!” Rather than producing a key from his coat, a green flash emanated from the lock when he placed his hand on the handle and opened the door.

He all but leered at you as he gave a small bow that didn’t feel genuine in the slightest.

“After you.~”

Like the alleged gentleman he was, Alastor held the door open for you, eyes never leaving your form as you walked inside his suite.

The smell of dampness and soil hit you immediately.

Alastor’s suite wasn’t the worst thing you’d seen in Hell by a mile, however, it was still eerie beyond words. The skeletons that hung along the walls and mantlepiece of his fireplace became less complete and increasingly disorganized as they led further into the room - which itself gave way to a swamp-like environment halfway through. Undoubtedly a result of whatever hoodoo, voodoo bullshit he was capable of, and while it still wasn’t the worst you’d seen, it served its purpose thoroughly.

It creeped the shit out of you.

“Now, then.” Alastor clicked the door shut, his body half-facing yours as his hand still lingered on the doorknob. “I'm sure you have a good explanation for what you’ve been doing.~”

The immediate dryness in your throat was hard to ignore. You knew what he was talking about, and you knew that he knew, but you still attempted to buy some time as you tried to figure out what to do.

You cleared your throat. “I was just catching up with Angel and Husk-”

He chuckled, the sound like that of a radio shifting stations. “Don’t be coy.” His head turned towards you with a sickening, ossified crackle that bent his neck in a manner that made your stomach lurch. “You’ve been avoiding me, and I’d like to know why.”

Fuck.

“I haven’t.” Lying to Alastor was a mistake, but you still decided to risk it since it wasn’t entirely false. “There’s just been a lot on my mind recently.”

“Hmm.” Interest and something much worse flickered behind his eyes as he faced you fully with another crack of his vertebrae. “Such as~?”

You shook your head, looking away from him. “That’s private.”

There was a quick flash of red, and the tip of his microphone turned your face back towards him - the cool metal of the edge digging into the skin of your cheek. You had to bite back a grimace.

“Not when it concerns me.” His tone was sharp, a stark contrast to the faux politeness he was putting on before. He kept the tip of his microphone where it was to prevent your eyes from looking anywhere but him. “And trust me darling, when it comes to you, everything concerns me.”

His words twisted in your gut. “...I’m not sure what you mean.”

Alastor tutted, his smile widening once more. “Don’t be stupid, darling, it’s unbecoming of you.” The way he said it was patronizing, like he was scolding a child. “You know precisely what I mean, so I’m going to ask again, as much as I hate repeating myself.~”

Cool metal was replaced with the warmth of his hand as he tilted your head up and brought his face frighteningly close to yours.

“Why are you keeping yourself from me?”

It was an odd sensation. Being backed into a corner, both metaphorically and physically. A frightening one that all but yanked on your instincts to do whatever it meant to get the fuck out of there, but you knew that was the worst thing you could do.

Alastor was a predator, a creature designed to prey on those he deemed weaker, and turning your back on a predator would almost certainly trigger a series of events that would not bode well for you.

So you did the next worst thing.

You told him the truth.

“Because I can see you.” The words felt wrong to say out loud. “I can see you for what you are, I can feel the absolute malevolence that radiates off you in waves, and it’s suffocating.”

Saying any more was a horrendous idea, but you couldn’t help but add one last thing.

“And if I want any chance at leaving this god-forsaken place, I can’t be around you.”

The silence that stretched on afterward was deafening.

Mentally, you were bracing yourself. Alastor had killed people for far less, and you expected nothing different for saying something so daring to his face.

You could see it too, the anger that simmered underneath his gaze. You expected the red of his sclera to flash black and his antlers to extend with his body in a grotesque display before you were ripped to pieces while he laughed.

What you didn’t expect was for his eyes to narrow into slits and his expression shift into one that was far more genuine than you wanted it to be, and it was then you knew that being saved from this kind of evil was never going to happen.

“Oh, my dear, you don’t need to worry about something silly like that.” Alastor all but cooed.

“After all, what makes you think I’d ever let you leave?~”

© absolute-flaming-trash 2024. Do not repost, modify, copy, or claim.

[razberrypuck]

william making his fursona (whom he loves more than his literal actual children) nonbinary flag colored and going "literally who cares about its gender its a rabbit" has the same vibe of michael having nightmares where foxy (His Guy) is hiding in his closet and trying to get out. happy pride to them I guess.

[scruncheduppaper]

mv2 is crazy when you think abt the implications of v1 and mirage basically almost being the same people like yeah idk. like im not saying theyre the same people but do you think that when v2 looks at mirage they catch a glimpse of their previous rival and the thrill of the battle and their eventual defeat and death. do you think that v2’s shoulder socket aches a bit more every time they look into mirage’s lens. do you think that v2 would be imagining v1 in mirage’s place for a split second when theyre in bed and mirage doesnt have her clothes on. guys uh

[edwinisms]

you ever think about how edwin got like. no warning, no time time to process, nothing, when he reappeared on earth faced with the fact that virtually everyone he knew in life is dead. his parents? probably died in the 1950s or so (at best) almost forty years prior to edwin’s return. if any of his classmates were still around, they’d have been elderly, possibly senile, and in a few years they’d all be gone– except, of course, edwin. nothing looks the same, cars look like spaceships, there actually are spaceships, he can no longer see the stars, and everyone he knew is dead.

[shinynewmemories]

All the final lines of each part of every Hunger Games book

THG: 

Part I:

“Because . . . because . . . she came here with me.”

Part II:

Before I can stop myself, I call out Peeta’s name.

Part III:

I take his hand, holding on tightly, preparing for the cameras, and dreading the moment when I will finally have to let go.

CF:

Part I:

It’s my mockingjay.

Part II:

This is no place for a girl on fire.

Part III:

“Katniss, there is no District Twelve.”

MJ:

Part I:

And his blood as it splatters the tiles.

Part II:

That I’m of more use to her dead than alive.

Part III:

I tell him, “Real.”

[mohntilyet]

Wait is the middle picture from those three sketches that one scene from the wigmaker job?

yes! it's this specific passage where lucanis is just seething with rage and trying to keep a lid on it, and illario's a stablising, comforting presence. BROTHERS!!!!! <3 though i chose to draw his hand on his shoulder rather than his arm i guess. artistic liberty!

[welcometogrouchland]

I miss them so bad (Dick and Damian)

[yuridovewing]

“you dont understand, its so important to tell children that you dont need to be hung up on your first love forever and you can be happy and move on to another spouse, and this is SO unexplored in fiction and especially wc-“ gray wing had 3 separate servings of man pain and was given a 4th love interest as a “reward” for his suffering. they also demonized palebird and held her as worse than her ex (who abused their son) for moving on after his death

[sarafangirlart]

Where did this idea that Aphrodite feels neglected by Hephaestus bc he’s too busy working in his forge even come from? There are two sources that state that she actually WORKS WITH HIM at the forge, in the Dionysiaca and The Anacreontea Fragment 28. If anything this weird headcanon makes Aphrodite look even more shallow bc what do you mean she wouldn’t spend time with her husband at his work? What do you mean she wouldn’t make weapons for the Erotes with Hephaestus? What do you mean that Aphrodite Areia wouldn’t be fond of her husband making her weapons? Or that she wouldn’t make her own weapons at the forge?

This stupid ass headcanon just made me defend a ship I hate.

I hate it here.

[bloody-bee-tea]

June of (minimal) Doom 2024 Day 17 - You don't want to do that

If you haven't checked the tags then take this as your content warning for referenced/implied rape/non-con and forced prostitution.

When Satoru freezes at his side, despite the punishing beat that’s still going strong, Suguru realises that they shouldn’t have come to this frat party in the first place. When Satoru had asked him—almost begged him to come—he should have put his foot down and told him no, instead of giving in to his every whim like Suguru is prone to do.

They could have had a relaxing evening in their bed, instead of coming to this godforsaken party where the sight of someone is leaving Satoru frozen in fright but hindsight is twenty-twenty, as they say.

They’ll just have to deal with this, whatever it is, and then Suguru can drag Satoru home, away from whoever is putting that horrible look on his face and cuddle him until he’s all better.

“Satoru,” Suguru says, his voice full of concern because he’s not sure Satoru has even taken a breath in the last minute and he is proven right when Satoru sucks in a shuddering breath.

“Suguru, I’m so sorry,” he gets out, his voice shaky and now that doesn’t make any sense of all.

Clearly it’s Satoru who is frightened; why the hell would he apologise to Suguru?

“If it isn’t Satoru-chan,” a reedy voice says and Suguru decides he doesn’t like the guy before he even lays eyes on him.

Seeing him doesn’t make it any better because the guy is leering at Satoru in a way that makes Suguru’s stomach churn.

“Mahito,” Satoru whispers out, one hand sneaking out to tightly grip Suguru’s sleeve as if he needs something to hold on to and Suguru shifts on instinct, puts himself slightly in front of Satoru as if he could shield him from this Mahito that way.

“You look absolutely stunning,” Mahito says, leaning around Suguru to better be able to look at Satoru and the way he doesn’t even spare Suguru a glance rankles in a way he’s not used to. “A true sight for sore eyes.”

“Wish I could say the same,” Satoru weakly says and then he addresses Suguru without ever taking his eyes off Mahito. “We wanted to leave, remember? Let’s go now, it’s getting way too crowded here anyway.”

“Aw, you don’t even want to catch up with your old friend?” Mahito asks before Suguru can react to Satoru’s words and Satoru finches as if he’s been hit. “I didn’t know you were in town or else I would have hit you up earlier.”

Suguru still has no clue what’s going on but even over the loud music he can hear the threat in those words. He has no idea who this guy is or what his history with Satoru is but Suguru knows that it can’t be anything good.

“Yeah, you’re right, let’s leave now,” Suguru says, reacting to what Satoru said instead of giving Mahito more time to speak but before he can even turn around to Satoru, Mahito’s hand shoots past him, snatching Satoru’s wrist in a way that must be painful going by the hiss he lets out.

“Mahito,” Satoru says warily, though he doesn’t try to remove his hand from his arm and Suguru can see the fear in his eyes.

“Get your hands off him,” Suguru says, reaching for Mahito’s wrist in turn and squeezing until he lets go of Satoru.

“You have quite the ape on your side it seems,” Mahito drawls out, roaming his eyes up and down Suguru’s frame and he feels dirty for it. “Why don’t you stay with me for a while, Satoru, I am much better company, as I am sure you remember.”

“No,” Satoru get out, and even though it’s quiet his voice is steady.

Suguru still has no real clue who this guy is or what’s going on but it’s clear that they have history and going by the surprise in Mahito’s eyes, he’s not quite used to Satoru telling him no. Suguru is immensely proud of him for that.

“Satoru,” Mahito warningly says and Satoru flinches back at that once more. “Come with me.”

His voice demands to be obeyed and there’s a split second where it seems Satoru moves without his conscious thought but then he steps closer to Suguru, hides behind his back and he says it again.

“No.”

Mahito’s eyes narrow in a way that makes Suguru shift his weight subtly in case the guy darts forward to attack and the motion must have been enough to bring his attention back to Suguru because his mismatched eyes fall on Suguru once more.

His gaze speaks of danger and it’s enough make a shudder run down Suguru’s back but it’s certainly not enough to make him cower in front of this guy.

Not when Satoru is this scared already.

“Ah, is this your latest boy-toy?” Mahito drawls out, addressing Satoru again. “He looks so boring.”

“Let’s go home,” Satoru repeats again and something cruel passes over Mahito’s face as he hears it.

“You don’t want to do that, Satoru. Walk away from me now and who can tell what will happen. Word of what you did back in the day might even reach your boy-toy and then what will he think of you? What will you do if he leaves you all alone after learning what you’ve done.”

Mahito’s voice makes Suguru sick to his stomach and it seems Satoru is not fairing much better because he’s pale and shaking and Mahito’s words are clearly getting under his skin.

“Shut up!” Satoru yells out, clearly scared out of his mind but it only makes Mahito laugh.

“You just need to come with me,” Mahito tells him again. “We had such a good time together, don’t you remember?”

“Oh, I remember,” Satoru spits out and Suguru needs to get them out of Mahito’s presence right this moment because Satoru looks as if he’s about to throw up.

“Wonderful,” Mahito claps his hands together as if those are the greatest news he ever received. “Then let’s go back together. I’m sure there are so many people who’d love to see you again!”

Suguru doesn’t think. He feels Satoru flinch again and it’s as if his body is moving on it’s one. He practically watches how his arm flies out, hand curled into a fist and in the next moment it connects with Mahito’s face.

Mahito crumbles like a puppet with its strings cut and some people around them stumble back when they realise what just happened.

“Suguru,” Satoru yells out and pulls him back. “We need to leave, come on, we have to go!”

He’s yanking on Suguru’s arm and even though Suguru would love to do nothing more than to wait for Mahito to pick himself up again so he can beat him down again, he reluctantly follows Satoru as he drags him out of the house.

“You think someone saw?” Satoru mutters once they are outside and Suguru huffs out a laugh.

“A lot of people saw. Question is if any of them care.”

“Right, right,” Satoru gives back and then falls silent.

He stays that way all the way back to their apartment and Suguru decides against pressing for now. It’s clear that meeting Mahito was not a good thing and Satoru seems more than rattled right now. Suguru doesn’t want to make matters worse by asking questions out in public, so he’ll wait until they are in the privacy of their own home.

“Come to the bathroom, we have to treat your hand,” is the first thing Satoru says after the door is closed behind them and Suguru looks down at his hand.

He didn’t even realise he split the skin open with his punch but he dutifully follows Satoru.

“Satoru, are you okay?” he asks him once he’s seated on the toilet, Satoru kneeling in front of him and he immediately bites his tongue when Satoru flinches.

“I should be asking you that, you’re the one who’s bleeding,” he still gives back and even smiles at Suguru but Suguru knows him well enough to see the strain behind it.

“Satoru,” Suguru mutters and reaches out with his uninjured hand to cup Satoru’s cheek in it. “Are you alright?”

There’s a beat of silence before Satoru chokes out a “No”.

It’s not a surprise, not with how shaken up he still seems and so Suguru simply nods.

“Are you—not going to ask?” Satoru haltingly asks once he deems Suguru’s hand treated enough for now and Suguru hums in thought.

“It came as a surprise to you to see him,” he states and even though it’s not a question, Satoru still nods. “And you don’t want to see him again.”

“Never,” Satoru spits out and even though there’s anger blazing in his eyes now, his hands are still shaking with fear.

“Okay,” Suguru simply says and Satoru stares at him as if he grew a second head.

“Yeah, right,” he then says, disbelief colouring his voice and Suguru sighs.

“Satoru, you could have murdered someone and I wouldn’t care. It doesn’t matter to me.”

Satoru laughs hysterically and it sets Suguru on edge. He wishes he could ease whatever it is right now that’s plaguing Satoru but he doesn’t know how to.

“It’s so much more degrading than that,” Satoru whispers and there’s a crazy look in his eyes. “And if I tell you then you’ll ask for the why and when I tell you about that—you won’t get it, you’ll think I’m such a spoiled, stupid brat who doesn’t even appreciate what he has and then there’ll be that and the disgust of what I have done, what was done to me and then you’ll leave me!”

Satoru’s voice cracks over the last words and Suguru’s heart splits clean in two when tears fall down Satoru’s cheeks.

It seems he has already decided on what will happen in their future, but Suguru is not going to accept that vision, because there is no way in any universe where he’s going to leave Satoru.

“Satoru,” he says, his voice strong and steady and Satoru’s eyes immediately snap to his as if he doesn’t have another choice.

Suguru doesn’t know what happened to Satoru—though with what he just said there’s a sickening suspicion forming in his mind and even though Suguru would love to reject that completely it would explain why Satoru sometimes gets so peculiar about anything physical between them—and in all honesty he knows so little about his past that it should probably bother him, but Satoru never talked about it and even when Suguru pressed he skirted around the questions with meaningless non-answers and eventually Suguru got the hint. He stopped asking and Satoru started relaxing.

And no matter what it is that Satoru did, that was done to him, Suguru doesn’t care.

“Whatever you did, whatever you had to do, it all led you to me, so I don’t care. If it means you found your way to me then I don’t care. You’re here, now, and that’s all that matters to me.”

Satoru blinks at him, clearly taken aback by what Suguru just said and Suguru thinks he might have fucked up when Satoru’s tears flow even more freely.

“How can you even say that?” Satoru sobs out eventually and Suguru pulls him into a hug.

“Because I love you.”

And really, it’s as easy as that for him. He loves Satoru and whatever it is that happened in his past and with Mahito, it’s clearly upsetting to Satoru, so Suguru is not going to judge him for any of it should Satoru ever want to tell him.

“Do you want us to move?” Suguru asks once Satoru’s sobs have died down a little bit and he curses himself when that sets Satoru off once more.

“You would just do that?” he cries out and Suguru shrugs.

“Satoru, you’re my everything. If you think you’re not safe here anymore, if you’re going to be afraid after meeting Mahito in this city, then we’ll move, no questions asked.”

“How can you still be like this when I’m keeping so much from you?” Satoru wants to know and he sounds exhausted down to the bone, so Suguru makes the executive decision to move them to the bed.

Satoru is still in his arms, awkwardly perched on his lap, but that makes it easy to simply tighten his arms around him and standing up, much to Satoru’s surprise it seems because his squeak nearly makes Suguru go deaf.

“What are you doing?”

“Going to bed,” Suguru tells him. “I’m exhausted and you’re no better.”

Satoru doesn’t argue with him which lets Suguru know just how tired Satoru really is and in a matter of minutes they are safely cocooned in their blanket.

“It doesn’t matter to me how much you keep from me,” Suguru says, once Satoru is curled into his arms. “I just know that today was upsetting to you and I’m trying to figure out how to make it better.”

“I don’t deserve you,” Satoru whispers and Suguru growls at that.

“You deserve everything,” he fiercely says and is not surprised when he feels new tears soak his shirt.

“That’s not true,” Satoru mutters, “you’ll see. I’m going to—I’ll tell you tomorrow.”

Suguru thinks that he should probably agree enthusiastically to that but seeing Satoru this distressed today really puts a damper on things.

“Only if you want to,” he mutters and kisses the top of Satoru’s head. “Only if you feel ready.”

“I’ll never feel ready,” Satoru admits and leans back to properly look at Suguru. “But you said it wouldn’t matter to you, no matter what, and I—I trust you more than I am afraid,” he goes on and Suguru loves him so much it feels as if he’s drowning in it.

“I love you,” he breathes out and when Satoru leans in for a kiss he doesn’t even mind that it tastes salty.

“I love you,” Satoru replies when they part and there’s a new resolve in his eyes.

Suguru will not let whatever it is that Satoru will tell him tomorrow change anything but he definitely knows one thing: he’ll be immensely proud of Satoru for facing whatever it is that haunts him.

And once everything is said and done, Suguru will make sure to remind Satoru that he still loves him—always will—and then they’ll figure out their future.

But they’ll do that together, too.

[envy-of-the-apple]

Brooooo the naga au crumbssss, eventually do satoru and suguru end up being able to speak and communicate better? I feel like that would be 10x scarier🥲

Eventually, they would. The hatchlings would definitely help with that! They could act like a translator between two species. It's another reason why SatoSugu dont just chase them off already. They're pretty useful, despite the fact both satoru and suguru are a little annoyed that you prefer the company of hatchlings over them.

Whenever they do grasp your language, 90% of your conversations will end with another reminder that you are theirs and you can't ever leave them. Scary at first, but eventually, I think you'd get annoyed by the constant reminders.

[absolute-flaming-trash]

Pairing: Yandere!Mahito x AFAB!Reader

SFW (ish)

Word Count: 2'060

Warnings: Yandere, Previously established (forced) relationship, Invasion of privacy, Nudity, Threats, Implied stalking, Nonconsensual touching, Reader eats shit in the tub (as in they fall).

Additional Notes: Reader is a foreigner in Japan.

You decided to leave the door open this time.

There wouldn’t be much point in shutting it, you had decided. The door to the bathroom was there for privacy, and while this wasn’t your home, you were alone so shutting it would’ve felt redundant.

The scent of eucalyptus filled the air as you sat on the edge of the tub and poured a generous amount of foaming bath soap into the water as it filled.

The house you were in was more Western-styled than the rest of the neighborhood. Part of you found it funny since, if someone were going to move to another country, you’d think they’d embrace the cultural differences that came with it - including home design.

That being said it did make a few things easier for yourself since you were also a foreigner, however you hardly ever complained when it came to your line of work.

Your job was a simple one. While the residents were away on vacation, you’d stay and take care of their home as well as whatever plants or animals that occupied it.

The owners got peace of mind while they were away and you got both a free place to live and paid to do almost nothing. Wins all around, in your opinion.

The cat you were looking after sat just outside the entrance to the bathroom, the tip of its tail twitching back and forth as it watched the water level in the tub rise.

“Don’t worry, Ashy, this isn’t for you.” You said as you put the cap back on the soap bottle and tested the temperature of the water with your right hand.

Ashes, the sleek Russian Blue feline narrowed her eyes in apparent scrutiny and her tail thumped against the carpet a little harder. The sight made you chuckle lightly.

“It isn’t, I promise.” The assurance in your tone was the same one would use when talking to a toddler. “See?”

You stood from the tub and began undressing, making quick work of your shirt and pants. Your amusement only grew when Ashes immediately got up and walked away, presumably to find a place to lay down that wasn’t near temporary bodies of water.

Once the water was about six inches from the top you shut it off and removed the rest of your clothing. The sigh that left you was low when you stepped in and settled amongst the bubbles, the hot water enveloping you in a gentle embrace that made your eyes close and your head rest against the edge of the tub.

The bathtub was nice - nicer than anything you had ever previously owned. It was long enough that you could properly stretch your legs out while being deep enough that the water came just above chest level. The only thing that could have possibly made it better was if it came with jets, but you certainly weren’t complaining with how things were.

Taking in a deep breath, you sank under the water and resurfaced a second later, letting out a long exhale while wiping the water away from your eyes.

It felt good. Being surrounded by warmth and not having to think about anything you had to do.

“Well, this is an interesting sight.”

The unexpected voice caused you to startle - jerking up straight in the tub while your head snapped towards the doorway.

It was him again. The stitches lining his skin were unmistakable, as was the mirth in his bi-coloured eyes while he leaned against the frame where Ashes had been only a few minutes ago.

Indignation quickly came up to replace the majority of the embarrassment, and you scooped up the bubbles around you to cover your chest.

“Get out.”

“Why? I’d say the open door was more than enough of an invitation.” 

Mahito’s nonchalance was infuriating and your knees drew up as he approached the tub.

“Well, it wasn’t.”

Mahito giggled, both at your answer and your vain attempt at more modesty. He stopped about three feet away from the tub to lean against the sink and he shrugged “Could’ve fooled me.”

“What are you doing here?” Your tone was sharp, no-nonsense, although most of its bite was reduced due to your current state.

“What am I doing here?” Mahito parroted back, idly going through the items on the bathroom counter - picking through your perfumes and skin care products. “I’m talking to you, aren’t I?”

“That’s not what I meant.” You snapped, irritation further clouding any mortification you felt. “You couldn’t find someone else’s house to break into?”

“Now that’s just it.” Mahito looked back towards you, a shit-eating smile on his face. “This isn’t your house.”

Fury and annoyance burned in your cheeks and Mahito giggled.

“You look like an angry, wet cat.” He said, toying with a bottle of your perfume. It was one of your favourites, cherry scented. “Aren’t you happy to see me?”

“I’d be lying if I said yes.”

“Awwee.” Mahito cooed with faux, overexaggerated hurt. “That isn’t very nice.”

“How did you even find me?” You asked, deciding to break off from the line of dialogue that was clearly leading nowhere. “The last place I was in was on the other side of the city.”

“Yes, it was.” Mahito sighed, like the reminder itself was exhausting and he pouted. Like an actual child. “Rather upsetting of you to not tell me you were moving around.”

Your teeth dug into the flesh of your cheek. “That doesn’t answer my question.”

“Your questions are boring.” He replied, “In any case I’m glad I’ve found you again, you’re definitely a sight for sore eyes.”

Something curled in your gut at his words. It felt heavy, like sludge, and your lips pulled back into a sneer. “Horrendous.”

Mahito chuckled once more at your comment, clearly unbothered. “Now, now, is that how you treat a guest?” He set your perfume back on the counter and took a step forward to crouch next to the tub.

Your arm came over to cover your breasts automatically and he rolled his eyes.

“You know, there’s no point in covering yourself. I’ve already seen everything.”

Pure, unfiltered mortification burned in your face and you glared at him. “Go to hell.”

He feigned shock, placing a hand over his heart. “How rude, and here I thought humans were more welcoming to their guests, especially in this part of the world.”

He chuckled again, his glee-filled eyes fixed on yours. “But I imagine that’s lost on you.”

“You’re not a guest.” Your reply was harsh, angry embarrassment still driving your words.

“No?” He leaned over the edge of the tub, getting far too close for comfort. “Then what am I?”

Dozens of answers sprang to mind. He was awful, for one. You often wondered if the stitches that ran along his skin were the only things that kept the rot in his soul from physically bubbling to the surface.

Repulsive was another. Abhorrent. Nauseating. Terrifying. Incredibly unwelcome in ways that caused words to fall short.

“A pain in the ass.” Was the savory answer you chose.

Mahito let out a bark of laughter - the sound loud and harsh in the acoustics of the bathroom and it caused you to flinch with how close he was to your face. Internally you were thankful when he drew back to sit cross-legged on the tile.

“A pain in the ass, huh? Can’t say I’ve heard that one before.” He said, his smirk widening. “You know, it’s always fun when humans try to be feisty.”

The fruit was low-hanging, but you took it anyway, albeit reluctantly. “Oh?”

“Yeah.” His grin widened to the point it was a marvel his stitches didn’t rip. “It makes it more enjoyable when they realize nothing can save them.”

The heavy feeling in your stomach quickly turned to ice. You sank a little lower in the tub, although warmth did nothing for the goosebumps that blossomed along your skin at the threat.

But that wasn’t quite right, it wasn’t a threat. No, it was fact, and he stated it like one. Mahito enjoyed destroying people, peeling back layer after layer - both physical and psychological - to see what was underneath. It was entertainment disguised as research, since - even despite being shown what he was capable of - you refused to believe even someone as vile as him got any knowledge out of what appeared to be pure torture.

Mahito sniggered at the look on your face and he waved a hand dismissively

“Oh relax, nothing’s going to happen to you.”

The unspoken ‘yet’ at the end of his sentence lingered in the air, mixing with the scent of eucalyptus and poisoning it.

“Anyway, that’s enough of that.”

You looked at him quizzically as he stood back up, but the confusion was short-lived as you saw him reach for the hem of his shirt.

Your eyes widened to the size of dinner plates.

“Uhm, what the hell are you doing?!”

“There’s more than enough room in there for two.” The casualness of Mahito’s voice was slightly muffled when he pulled his shirt over his head. “And it’s been a while since I’ve had a bath, the hot springs aren’t exactly close, you know?”

He wasn’t wrong. The house you were looking after belonged to a couple, and it was clear the bathtub was bought with the intention of having more than one person in it, but the mere thought of being near Mahito that way made you want to vomit.

When he stripped out of his pants your eyes immediately moved to the bubbles surrounding you. It was a hopeless situation since, even if you did move to get out, not only would he truly see you in all your glory, he’d likely drag you right back in anyway.

When he stepped in, the water was displaced so greatly that some of it spilled over the edge and onto the tiled floor. A grimace crossed your face and your eyes narrowed at the bubbles. You’d have to clean that up later.

Mahito was quiet for maybe a minute maximum, shifting around here and there and displacing more water onto the floor until he sighed dramatically.

“This isn’t comfortable.”

The urge to snap at him that he was more than welcome to get out clung to the tip of your tongue and nearly leaped off of it, but any kind of response was replaced with more of that awful but familiar embarrassed outrage as you felt cold fingers wrap around your wrist and pull you forward.

It threw you off balance horribly, and your free hand shot out instinctively to catch your fall a moment too late. Water went up your nose when you went underwater for a brief moment and you came up just as fast as you went down, coughing and sputtering as Mahito pulled you against him - twisting you so you were settled between his legs with your back against his chest.

His giggle mixed with the ringing in your ears.

“Whoops.” He said, apology non-existent. “But this is more comfortable, don’t you think?”

You didn’t want to think. You didn’t want to think about any of it. Not the way one of his arms was wrapped around your waist, locking you in place, or the way the bone in his chin dug into the muscles of your shoulder.

Each cough from you made more water spill onto the floor and Mahito sighed again while he smoothed the wet strands of your hair away from your face.

For a moment you wondered if this is what Ashes felt like whenever you bathed her.

“Humans are so fragile, it’s a wonder there’s so many of you.” His words were muttered like he was thinking out loud, and it was very likely that he was. “A bit of water and your soul is already down to seventy percent.”

It was more than just some water, you wanted to yell at him. It was the fact he was here in the first place, the fact he was holding you naked against him so you could feel as much of him as he could of you.

The fact that you were beginning to realize that no matter what house you took care of, he’d always be there.

And there’d be much more than water to clean up after.

© absolute-flaming-trash 2024. Do not repost, modify, copy, or claim.

[lowkey-loki245]

I have things I want to say, but SOCIETY won't let me (I am very passionate about how Bradford's and Scrooge's relationship counts as abusive, even if they're just business partners, but most people would probably be weirded out by the idea of Scrooge Mcduck (2017) being an abuse victim).

[cookie-waffle]

I’m certainly not one of those zelink fans who gets extremely annoying about it, but, oh my god, if I see one more person say their relationship has no substance in botw I’m gonna bonk them with a stick.

The whole thing where Link feels comfortable enough around Zelda to speak to her and only her? Zelda deeply relating to him? Kass literally singing an entire ass song about how Zelda’s powers only awoken because she had to protect the one she loved? That’s quite a goddamn bit of substance. They were two kids who likely never had a real childhood or any choice in how their lives would end up, and they eventually started to seek comfort in each other.

I do think that Nintendo didn’t really do a great job at “showing not telling” but there is still very blatant canon confirmation that Link and Zelda in botw are close. Sure, doesn’t have to be romantic, but they do have a bond.

People who call them forced make me wanna

[worldsokayestdragon]

GreedxLing Week Day 7: Campfire

Read here on AO3

Greed had never been camping before, because why the fuck would he? He demanded the finer things in life, and leaving your nice bed behind to sleep in the dirt in the woods was not one of the finer things.

Now he was stuck on an involuntary camping trip for months and months. All the way until the promised day, which wouldn't be until spring! It had been a week, and Greed was already sick of it. The ground was too hard to sleep on comfortably, the forrest was full of weird noises, and it got colder every night. Greed was pretty sure even people who like camping didn't do it over winter unless they were actually insane.

The people Greed was with were definitely insane.

Darius and Heinkle insisted that it wasn't that bad and it "built character." Greed had plenty of character, and it was that bad! Just because some people could grow fur coats on command didn't mean they all could.

Ed also said it wasn't that bad, and it was colder in Briggs. (fucking good for Briggs then, what did that have to do with Greed?) Ed also said that his teacher had sent him on a way worse camping trip when he was nine, and that he and his brother had ended up having fun by the end of it.

Fucking insane.

Ling also told Greed it wasn't that bad and he should stop complaining, but Ling was getting a free ride in Greed's head and didn't actually have to do any of the camping shit himself, so what did he know?

Greed was the leader of this little camping trip, so he had to stay present for it. No matter how much he hated it or how little he knew about "finding a good location" or "setting up a halfway decent campsite" or "tying the food up properly so it wouldn't attract wild animals, that's just common sense Greed, what's wrong with you?”

Animals didn't like to get close to homunculi or chimera anyway, so what was the big deal if he didn't want to climb halfway up a tree to store all their shit?

So Greed was the leader, but a leader didn't do all the work. He was more than happy to let the others make handle the minutia of day to day tasks and let him focus on the bigger picture. A good leader delegated.

And somehow he still ended up left in charge of building the campfire while the chimeras went on a supply run to a nearby town. Something about Ed and Greed not knowing how to be subtle or blend in. As if two giants blended in any better. But whatever, that town was too dinky to have anything worth Greed's time anyway.

That didn't explain why Ed couldn't light the damn fire, but the alchemist insisted he needed to "check their course," which just looked like wandering around to stare at the sky and check both sides of random trees, and occasionally making marks on a map.

Ling said what he was doing made sense, and Greed didn't actually know enough about maps to dispute it.

So Greed was left with a pile of wood, another pile of little sticks and dead leaves, and a box of matches. He had very little clue what to do with any of it.

You've been camping before, right? Greed asked Ling. On your way across the desert from Xing or whatever. Can't you do this?

Ling shook his head, or did the mental equivalent of shaking his head anyway. Greed could always tell even without turning his attention inwards towards Ling's soul projection, though it wasn't a sensation he'd know how to describe to anyone.

There isn't a lot by way of firewood in the desert. And it got cold at night, but it was still summer. We mostly just slept close together. The few times we did manage a fire, Fu and Lan Fan took care of it. Sorry.

He did actually sound a little sorry, which was decent of him. There was a reason Greed didn't mind having Ling around.

Greed groaned. ugh, fine. I guess I'll do it. I can totally do it.

Of course you can, Ling said, very matter of factly. We've watched Ed do it enough times. We can figure it out easily.

Right, Greed nodded and reached to pick up a branch. How hard can it be? Ed does it.

That startled a laugh out of Ling, an undignified snort that probably couldn't be considered quite proper for a prince.

Don't let him hear you say that. We'll have to sit through a whole rant about how he's a genius and none of us are on his level.

Yeah, that would be a pain, Greed said. But this really shouldn't be too hard. You just stack the big ones in a sort of a triangle shape and put the little bits inside and then light the inside first, right?

That sounds right to me. Ling agreed.

Right. That's easy.

Greed set to work.

It was not, in fact, easy. A sort of triangle shape was not an intuitive way to stack wood. The whole thing kept tipping over and collapsing into a big jumble.

By the fifth try Greed was growling to himself and barely resisting the urge to go find Ed and throw one of those stupid sticks at his head for making Greed do this.

Maybe I should try? Ling suggested. I probably have a more steady hand from all the swordfighting.

No, Greed snapped, glaring daggers at the stick pile as he started over. I will not be beat by a stupid heap of dead tree parts! I'm gonna enjoy lighting this shit on fire. It fell over again. Oh god damnit!

Oh-kay, Ling said slowly. You do it then. I think you almost got it a few tries ago. Just take a deep breath before you start over. It will only be harder if you're angry.

It'Ll OnLy Be HaRdEr If YoU'rE aNgRy, Greed repeated.

That was probably unfair. Ling had offered to help.

Greed took a deep breath before he tried again.

It took three more attempts for Greed to successfully arrange the large branches in a loose approximation of a campfire shape.

Greed used one of the matches to light a long, thin stick on fire and poked it through into the pile of twigs and leaves inside his branch pyramid. After a few long, nerve wracking seconds, the fire spread and the whole structure went up in flames.

It didn't burn as steadily or as brightly as the ones Ed made.

It's a little lopsided– Ling started to say.

It's on fire, isn't it? Greed interrupted. He was not in the mood for criticism right now. Whataya want from me?

You didn't let me finish, Ling said calmly. I was going to say that it looks good for your first time doing it. I don't think I could do better.

Oh. Now Greed felt kinda bad for jumping down Ling's throat. Well, thanks. I–

"You call that a campfire?" Ed tromped back into the clearing they were staying in and threw himself down across the fire from Greed. "It looks like crap."

He is such an asshole, Ling sighed.

"It's a fire. It's in the camp. It's a campfire. Now shut up about it unless you want me to set you on fire too."

Ed looked like he wasn't going to shut up about it, and Greed could feel Ling getting ready to beg him to let it go and not argue with the stupid runt no matter how much of an insubordinate little shit he was being, but Darius and Heinkle chose that moment to show up.

"The fire looks–" Greed glared at Darius. "...fine and normal."

“No it doesn't,” Ed said and ignored Greed glaring daggers at his head.

"Anyway," Heinkle cut through the tension. "The store in town was having a sale, so we got a little something special for tonight." He set down the bags of food he was carrying and started digging through one of them.

"I didn't say you could spend our money on unnecessary crap," Greed pointed out. Really no one was respecting his leadership tonight.

Don't you want henchmen who are smart and capable enough not to have to bother you about every little thing? Ling asked.

He did want that. Damnit.

"Whatever, it's fine. What did you get?"

Heinkle found what he was looking for in the bags and held up a few bars of chocolate, a box of some sort of crackers, and a bag of marshmallows.

"Oh, nice!" Ed said. "I haven't had s'mores since me and Al were little."

"Some more of what?" Greed asked.

All three of them turned to stare at him.

"You've never had a s'more?" Ed yelled. He sounded personally offended by the idea. "You're like 200 years old! How is that even possible?"

Do you know what he's talking about? Greed asked Ling.

Ling shrugged. No idea. Must be an Amestran thing.

Ed stomped over to dig through the pile of extra firewood, returning with a handful of particularly long thin sticks. He shoved one into Greed's hand.

"Here! Stick a marshmallow on this and hold it over the fire," he instructed.

Greed magnanimously didn't point out how rude it was of Ed to talk to his leader like that, because he was a great guy like that. And because he was really curious about these so-called s'mores by now. (Also, in the last week he'd been told no fewer than six times to "talk to Colonel Bastard if you want to know how I talk to a leader I'm disrespecting," and Ed did generally go along with what Greed told him even if he was a little shit about it.)

Greed stuck a marshmallow to the end of the stick and held it in the fire.

It immediately burst into flames, burning to a blackened lump as Greed watched.

"Now what?"

"Try holding it a little further from the flames this time," Darius suggested, handing him a new stick and marshmallow.

Ed shook his head. "No, setting it on fire is good, you just don't sit there like a dumbass and watch it burn after." He deliberately stuck his into the fire then quickly blew it out. "Faster that way."

Greed decided to go with what Darius said and held his second marshmallow above the fire until it turned brown around the edges and threatened to fall off of its stick. Then, copying what he'd seen Ed do, he put it between two of the crackers with a piece of chocolate and took a bite.

It was hot enough to be just on the edge of burning the crap out of his mouth, and also a total mess, marshmallow and melted chocolate squishing out from the sides as he bit down.

It was also really fucking good.

Greed tried not to react to the delicious taste, not wanting to give Ed the satisfaction.

Judging from the smug smile on Ed's face, he didn't quite succeed.

"So, do you like it?" Ed asked.

"It's fine," Greed sniffed, and then took another bite because it really was amazing.

Ed snorted a laugh, but kindly didn't rub it in Greed's face any more than that. He also didn't say anything when Greed reached for another marshmallow to make a second one.

It does look good, Ling said, a little wistfully.

Do you want to try?

Really?

Ling sounded pleased and awed in a way that made Greed's face burn for some reason.

Yeah, if you want. It's not a big deal, Greed muttered, and then switched places with Ling before he could answer.

"Ling?" Ed asked, somehow noticing instantly. "What are you–"

Ling completely ignored the Fullmetal Alchemist in favor of eating their second s'more.

It tasted even better than the first one, filtered through Ling's perception where Greed settled in the back of their mind.

After they'd finished their s'mores and–at Heinkle's insistence–eaten some real food, Greed and Ling got volunteered for first watch, even though they'd done all the work setting up the campsite. Ling didn't argue their case as hard as Greed would have, and Greed didn't care enough to push his way back into control of the body over it. He'd take over again in the morning.

The fire went out an hour before they were supposed to wake Ed for his watch shift.

Ling took his turn lighting it, and it went much better with Greed's now expert advice. They both agreed that the others didn't need to know about that.