#so hed want to be sure sure he was doing it right

[zoieru]

Cosy ~ Dan Heng looks after you on your period.

Wrote this in one again. Warnings: Gn, fluffy :3 Dan Heng behaviour, mentions of period cramps (duh), Himeko, March 7th, no blood. 2.1k words.

The lights of the parlour car seemed too bright, despite being dimmed slightly more than usual for the early evening. Sat in one of the red booths, legs lifted knees to chest, you were curled in a pained ball quite like the knots you imagined writhing in your lower stomach right now. As your chin fell onto your knees, you contemplated which Aeon you should most likely be cursing as a result of these cramps that riddled your otherwise healthy body, rendering it useless for the evening. Hmph.

A gentle sliding and releasing sounded through the room as the door to the room-hallway slid open revealing a Dan Heng who's eyes were fixed on you. You lifted your head off your knees, but remained in the little ball, tilting your head subtly as he entered. He told you he'd be working on a paper earlier, went off a few hours ago. You hadn't bothered to tell him you were on your period or were currently fighting a bloody war in your abdomen, not wanting to make him worry or disturb his work unnecessarily.

He wandered over, eyebrows furrowing a little as he saw your form, curled tightly as if to squeeze the pain smaller. He paused in front of you, fingers of one hand resting gently on the table. "I have something I'd like to show you," he said, voice steady and stoic as usual but with just a hint of that softness reserved for you, and sometimes March if she ever did something super sweet. His blue eyes traced your face, looking just a little awkward, somehow.

You looked up at him, feeling a gentle wash of guilt. You hadn't moved from the parlor car because moving sounded like the worst idea you could possibly conceive as of now. Letting the cramps have their way, flowing through the rest of your body instead of squeezed into this tight ball? Nah. No thankyou. But telling him meant worrying him, right?

"I'm...really not in the mood for lots of thinking and things right now, I don't feel that great. Can I see later?" You asked, voice a touch sheepish. It hurt your heart to turn him down even a little bit, despite him never minding, or seeming to mind. You were getting better at reading him, but he was still a mystery sometimes.

His eyes flickered with a touch more concern than before, hand on the table reaching out, palm upwards, towards you. "It's not work," he assured, a gently insistent statement. It made his insides all fidgety making you be in more pain than you were, but he needed you to come with him. This was a good idea? Right?

He paused for a moment, hand still outstretched, "please?"

His plea gave you pause, an unfamiliar request from him. He wasn't one to ask for much, though was always polite when he did so. Now it seemed he needed you to come, and who were you to deny him, despite the pain.

You took a little breath, steeling yourself for the expected discomfort that came with moving, and unfurled yourself from your ball of self-pity and climbed off of the seat, taking his hand in yours as you did so, while attempting to seem in better condition than you were. He still wasn't sure what was up, you needed to be strong.

He started leading you back the way he came, arm following behind him, hand gentle but firm on yours as he lead you until he reached the door to the archives, his room, his pulse quickening slightly with every step. This was a good idea, right? It would help. He needed to help, he couldn't just let you be in pain. This was good, you'd like it, why wouldn't you?

He opened the door and stood to the side, letting you through first, eyes fixed on you and your expression as his anxiety started to reach through his mask of stoicism.

Inside, it was dimly lit, a soft warm glow coming from...is that fairy lights?! Your eyes drifted to the corner that usually held his soft pillows and futon, and usually a book or two, and they fell on what could only be described as a nest. Pillows and blankets were piled in a sort of circular cosy shape, some cushions and plushies dotted between and on top, a small pile of books on the edge of the blankets, along with a little tray with a box of tea and all the things needed to make one, chocolate and pieces of your favourite fruit laid out along side.

Each little detail had your heart do a little flip in your chest. Dan Heng was watching you, hands slid into his pockets, shoulders slightly tensed from anxiety as his eyes flicked across every micro expression you made to assess the landing. He'd never done something like this before, and while objectively it wasn't that big of a grand gesture, it felt so out of his comfort zone, he had no idea whether it was going to be welcome or he'd just made a big weird mistake.

He wanted to wait for you to speak first, but his nerves got the better of him, so he found himself blurting an explanation as if that would soften the fall. "I...I wanted to help. There's no obligation to..." He was cut off by you kissing him. Your lips saying all the things you were unable to, emotions bubbling up all at once, but mostly overwhelming affection. He froze for a second, still not used to this, but quickly melted into it a little, heart still like a hummingbird, lips moving softly against yours. His hands moved to your waist, fingers sliding across the clothed skin gently, almost careful.

"You knew? I didn't tell you anything was wrong, I thought you were finishing up that paper?" You said, after pulling your face away gently, unable to keep the subtle happy curl off your lips. The cramps felt almost non existent for just a moment in the swell of affection for this boy.

As you both broke the kiss he felt his cheeks prickle with a splatter of pink, eyes averting slightly to the corner and back to you. "I...knew there was something off. You kept saying it was fine earlier, but you're bad at lying. I worked out what it was, myself, eventually," he explained, eyes averting again. This felt so awkward, but filled him also with a slight almost giddiness? You seemed to really like it, and it made him all fluttery, unusual, but it wasn't unpleasant. Not at all. "I asked Himeko what I could do. I didn't want to just stand by-" he explained.

Your eyes widened ever so slightly as you listened to his gently sheepish cute ass response. He asked Himeko about periods? It felt like your heart and brain both stuttered simultaneously, as your mind brought up the picture of Dan Heng going up to Himeko and instigating a conversation about how best to deal with periods. It was somehow the most endearing, surprising, cutest, most adorable thing you could possibly think of.

Meanwhile, Dan Heng was hoping he didn't sound as stupid as he felt. He saw you seemed to like it but was still restless with anxiety. This wasn't something he had done, or would usually do, it felt...weird.

"You went to Himeko, and asked what to do about my period?" You asked, trying to act less giddy and overwhelmed with affection than you actually were, eyes tracing the fairy lit cosy corner with a new light.

"I wasn't sure what the best way to help you was, I thought she might have some better insight," he said quietly, almost a confession. You nodded, it taking a whole lot out of you to not just squeeze him. He would not appreciate that.

His hands fell from your waist as your fingers linked again with his and walked a few steps over to the corner he'd set up for you. You knelt and picked up a plush of a monkey you knew March had in her room on the sill usually, and turned to him raising an eyebrow with a little smile.

His blush seemed to deepen a little, eyes hidden behind his eyelashes as he averted his gaze again. "March helped, too. But she was much more infuriating about it than Himeko."

The smile on your lips kept growing as you listened to his words, watched his expression turn more and more bashful. It was so rare to see him like this, is was like a treat, he was so beautiful. Your eyes traced and retraced every aspect of the cosy corner, and you took a few steps closer, before sitting down into it, settling into nest of blankets and pillows comfortably, hand still lifted to his as he stood watching.

"You coming?" You asked with an almost cheeky smile. He paused a moment. It was obvious that you'd ask, sort of, but he still felt a touch surprised somehow that you wanted to share it, wanted him there. He shifted on his feet, heart slower now but still doing silly weird flips in his chest, and then nodded once, lowering to settle beside you. He wanted to comfort you, after all, that's what all this was for, to make it more bearable. And if him being there would help, so be it. He... might, enjoy it too. Just a little.

As he settled next to you, your backs propped up against pillows on the wall, both of you bathed in soft warm light from the fairy lights also inevitably borrowed from March, he allowed you to snuggle a little into his side, his arm shifting around your waist to rest at your hip.

"You like it, then," he stated, half a question, half almost a reassurance to himself aloud. Though you responded quickly, hand coming to run tentatively over his jaw as you looked up at him. "I love it. It's the nicest thing anyone has ever done for me, it's so cosy, it'll help," you replied, reassuring his worries that popped through the cracks in his composure. You already felt ten times more relaxed than you had, the cramps still writhing but subdued just slightly by the comfort of the spot and all the fuzzy emotions swirling in your body.

He smiled a little, letting out a soft breath along with a touch of tension he didn't know he was holding, and let himself rest his head on top of yours as you snuggled back into him. A success? It seemed so. He couldn't help the wave of satisfaction and honestly relief that washed over him at the fact you appreciated and liked this, that he did this right. He always wanted to do right, by you. More than he had about much, to be honest, which scared him, but also lit that flame of excitement in his chest.

"I can't believe you asked Himeko and March. I bumped into them having a hushed conversation earlier, looking like they'd witnessed the return of Idrila with their own eyeballs or something," you said with a little chuckle, remembering their faces. That's why. They must have been almost killed off by the shock of Dan Heng asking them willingly about how to help you in this situation.

Dan Heng let out a huff of air, brushing your hair gently with the movement, both slightly indignant and reluctantly amused. "Neither can I. I thought I might pass away from embarrassment," he admitted, almost a bit pained from the memory though his voice was mostly warm, relieved, relaxed finally. He recalled how he had paced around in here procrastinating before deciding to finally go and ask them for advice, for the materials. He shifted ever closer, if that was possible, as if seeking out the comfort of you, safety from the slightly uncomfortable memory. He did it, though, for you. He wanted to.

"I'm glad you like it," he murmured, quieter, into your hair. His heart swelled with warmth and affection for you, as you both sat a while curled together in the cosy corner he'd built while he was 'working on his paper'. A flicker of pride passed through him, that he could do this for you, be this comfort.

You both stayed there all evening, drinking the soothing tea he'd got, reading those books he picked out, or him reading them to you, until you both eventually drifted off to sleep, cramps seemingly long soothed and forgotten by the gentle and achingly loving salve that was Dan Heng and his care for you.

Here's my Jing Yuan period one if you want it (˶ ˘ ³˘)ˆᵕ ˆ˶) req more if u wanna.

[krshpdoinklestuf]

Adam finding out he’s pregnant with Ziro WIP

The sound of circus clown music remixed with duck quacks began to chime from the phone on the nearest nightstand, vibrating violently for a good few seconds before its owner took hold of it. With half open eyes, Lucifer hit the stop button before rolling back over. He groaned slightly, sitting up slowly before letting out a deep yawn. He began to stretch out his back, various points letting out cracks and pops. Every little release felt like small bits of heaven. Sighing, he looks over towards his heavily snoring husband. Lying on his back, His arm was draped across the top of his pillow, the other on his hair ladened chest. A constant streak of drool leaked down the corner of his chin onto his pillow, knowing later he’ll now have to wash their bedding. Lucifer couldn’t help but smile at the sight. As much as Adam was a slob, he did look cute even with his snoring. He felt reminded of their days in the Garden, his gentle expression reminiscence of that innocence he once had before years of trauma got to him. All Lucifer wanted to do was sit there and watch but he knew he couldn’t. Not on sinsmas. He had too much on his plate to balance a little bit of morning sex and sudden snuggling as much as he craved it. He would earn his reward later, knowing full well Adam couldn’t say no to both on holidays. He leaned over, giving Adam a soft yet passionate forehead kiss before moving off of their bed. Adam didn’t even stir. Lucifer chuckled to himself, knowing it’s rare he’s actually able to sleep this well. He felt it was right to give him some extra sleep and prepare his perfect Christmas breakfast. Sliding a pair of rubber duck shaped slippers on his hooves, he stretched out his back and arms one more time before giving his exposed sliver of his stomach a scratch. Looking at the clock, he heads off to Eden’s nursery for his breakfast.

Adam let out a sickly grumble, feeling the empty contents of his stomach start to churn. ‘Oh fuck this.’ He didn’t want to be nauseous on sinsmas, especially when there’s sex and food involved. Lucifer always planned something special for not only themselves but for the family. Hed never spare any expense and would make every sinsmas a moment to remember.

Trying to become comfortable and avoid throwing up, he curls himself up in his comforter, flipping his pillow over the cool side. The sudden temperature change in his cheek felt good for the few seconds it lasted before the severe nausea came washing over him again. He couldn’t hold it in much longer so he forced himself to make the quick two second trip to Lucifer’s master bathroom. He managed to make every bit of vomit in the toilet, gripping the rim tightly as the last wave of vomit finished. “Ugh. Not this shit again.” He shakingly stood up and headed towards the medicine cabinet. Hunched over, he quickly turned on the bathroom sink faucet and waited for the hot water to come rushing through. He cupped his hands under the hot water, splashing a good amount on his face before grabbing a small face cloth. He lazily wiped any access vomit from his face and tossed the towel in the hamper. He glanced at his reflection in the mirror attached to the medicine cabinet, recoiling at how tired he looked. His bags under his eyes more intense, his hair unkept and shaggy; he let out a long guttural yawn before opening the cabinet door. “I know they gotta be here somewhere.” He mumbled to himself as he rummaged through. Cold medicine? No. He pushed any bottle he saw aside before finally stumbling upon a small box. ‘PREGNANCY TEST’ in massive pink and purple letting stared back him as he stood at the counter. The silence in the bathroom only broken by the semi constant drip from the faucet. He absolutely knew he had to be this time but he had to make sure. He didn’t know he was pregnant the first time but he can tell now. The sudden flip in hormones and morning sickness giving him the first signs. He jokingly thanks Lucifer for now knowing how this feels and curses under his breath. He didn’t have a reason for throwing up this morning that he could remember. Last night consisted of sinsmas Eve family movies and spending most of it with Eden and Lucifer. Lucifer didn’t usually feed him until he couldn’t see straight until Sinsmas day so he felt a twinge of concern hit him. Looking back at the box, he takes a deep breath in before he popped open the tab. He tipped the box over and gave it an aggressive shake. A small instructional pamphlet stuck out as well as a plastic stick. Sliding the white stick out, he looked at it dumbfounded. “How the fuck do you use this? I know you piss on it but where?” He twirled the stick in his hand, treating it as though it were a drumstick before twisting it around and looking at every inch.

A small instruction booklet stared back at him but he brushed it off. his brain was too focused on figuring it out himself before giving up and resorting to the pamphlet. “Ughh fine. I’ll read the damn thing.” Letting out an annoyed huff and reaching for the paper rather harshly, he quickly reads the few steps before rolling his eyes in annoyance. “That easy?” He continued to grumble as he took one of the spare sample cups from his medicine cabinet. He fumbled to get his pajama string undone as he pulled out his dick. He sat back down on the toilet seat and held the cup just slightly below his line of sight and in the bowl, keeping his cock in line with the cup. he popped the small pink cap off the edge of the test stick with his free hand, landing on the floor with a loud clatter. “Alright, bitch. Let’s see if you’re positive or not.” He began to relieve himself into the small cup below him before filling the cup nearly all the way. The container became warm to the touch and Adam grimaced. The golden yellow liquid was pungent, nearly hitting the rim of the sample collector as he held it between two fingers.

“I didn’t need that much but whatever.” Giving himself a quick shake, he lifts off the bowl, flushes and gives the pregnancy test another worried look before dipping the tester portion in his pee. He began to wait the three minutes plastered all over the box, giving himself time to properly brush his teeth and focus. Every minute felt like an eternity as he waited. The digital clock seemingly never changing as he traced the shower curtain pattern with his eyes. He took in more details; the solid gold trim that seemed to line the walls and glistened, the outside of the bathtub covered in rubber ducks. He couldn’t help but scoff with a smile as he glanced over. He gave one a kick towards the wall of tub as it let out an annoyed honk upon impact. He fumbled around with his shirt hem, becoming more impatient as he waited. He glanced back at the clock, just a minute left to spare. He felt like he had to control his breathing, his anxiety slowly creeping up on him as he grips the sink counter. His stomach dropped, his palms began to sweat profusely. His mind raced; Why the fuck was he so worried about being pregnant again? It’s not like Lucifer would even be upset. If anything, he knew he would be in tears and ready to father the baby with open arms.

“Fuck, this is really gonna happen again, isn’t it?” He rambled to himself as his phone timer began to buzz. Without a second thought, he pulled the test out of the cup before dumping any access into the toilet. Keeping his eyes shut, he took a deep breath in before looking down at the urine soaked strip in his hand. Two vibrant red lines came up on the tiny circular window, the second line stronger than the last. They were as clear as day. There was no doubt in his mind. “Shit.”

[dykedvonte]

wanted to say I appreciate your nuanced takes on MW and especially Curly. i don't get the claim that the fandom is full of Curly apologists when majority (esp yt and tiktok) say he's worse than Jimmy. Yes there's commentary about bro culture defending people, he def messed up in trying to placate Jimmy (tbh "we'll fix this" sounded more like trying to keep someone prone to outbursts like Jim calm and not hurt Anya/himself) but I don't think he did nothing to help Anya, since she continued to confide in him and he had less than a week to resolve it before the crash (I also don't get everyone saying he knew for ages when it seems like Anya told him that same week). I get Jimmy's a pos but saying stuff like Curly should've known he'd crash the ship or that Jim had a criminal record he ignored, reducing them to obviously horrible villain and willfully ignorant sidekick feels like a disservice to the game. If your best friend turned out to be horrible, what would you do in a confined space in the span of a few days to respond? I'd say some of the horror comes from trying to do good but ultimately failing, Curly's state after the crash is meant to be tragic horror not revenge/punishment

Thank you and this is what I want to get across.

A lot of information we have to supplement when it comes to how long things have been happening on this current ship. I think people try to add on to the horror and negligence by making things more obvious so it can feel like it was easier to avoid when, true to life, its not. Jimmy clearly didn't deserve or appreciate what Curly did for him in getting him the job, but do you think if Jimmy was that big of a menace on Earth he would've given him a position where he could have that level of power over people's lives? There's something in the fact he specifically chose to pick a position so close to himself where he could watch Jimmy.

I hate the bro code argument because that is a whole can of worms people really don't get. That sort of mentality is born from the general respect and preference of male matter over female ones. Curly is clearly not that guy, he is absent minded about the issue and inadvertently dismissive but he clearly believes Anya, he just can't understand what she's going through. It's an onslaught of information that no one really reacts right to. Additonally, the entire discussion of her assualt plays to heavy into the idea that there is fault outside of the perpertratior when it comes to SA. It's too close if she only did this or if Curly had protected her better but the fact of the matter is Jimmy did what he did. He did it before any of the conversations with Anya about it and it's why her behavior seemed to change so drastically in those last two days.

He has other conflicting thought and while his role as a Captain should've taken over, people act like it's not a very human thing to have such a toxic presence cloud your judgement. It is never easy to separate friend from coworker once that connection is formed, you want to help them, especially if they were friend first and for a long while like in this case. It's not right, but people act like it would be easy when the game clearly points out that no choice is easy to make, especially when you have to make it for more than one person. You have the weigh the consequences, look at all the options and make a plan. People can headcanon and decide how long things where happening, but if we look at what we were presented through the characters eyes, the only person given time to do that was Jimmy.

He waited two months after the crash to appoint himself Captain. Every time a problem was brought up he immediately took action and refused to sit on it and find a better solution. I think it's important to look at the warped way Jimmy takes initiative where Curly didn't as it works as a good contrast of why you don't just run in to "fix" things. The quickest and easiest option may not be the safest or most beneficial. I think some thoughts on the game suffer from the black and white thinking the game doesn't operate on along with us being voyeurs. We see what exactly led to what but the characters don't. They don't have the hindsight and foresight we do and even ours is scrambled by the non-linear story telling.

Like it's hard to talk abuou those grey zones without sounding like an apologist because you're explaining why taking responsibility isn't easy. It's not and it's weird to act like it would be in a scenerio that led up to the events of the game knowing what we know. We see all these characters in such isolated moments with various things before, in between, after and even during we aren't privy too. The idea that Jimmy is worse than Curly heavily banks on the words Jimmy was saying to Jimmy before he crashed the ship. That whatever happened on the ship was his responsibility to bare, which is true due to his position. But, are they not still not responsible for taking the actions Curly then must bare?

Like i feel like people think that these are situation that become easier with age or when you are in a postion of authority and they aren't. You don't lose your biases or gain some sudden knowledge that makes it easier. It just becomes more tiring as you keep dealing with it. I would be first in line to say Curly fucked up and should've done more but the idea he knew how bad it could get or he really saw the worst in the people around him and ignored it pretty much ignores a huge aspect of his character and the game.

[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.

[pikkish]

idk if this is a good prompt but put doomguy in myhouse.wad I think he would find it enriching

Right, so I've been mulling on this one for a little bit now, n I'm not opposed to writing something for you, I'm just not... entirely sure what to write? Because the thing is, myhouse.wad doesn't actually really have anything to do with Doom as a story. Sure, Doom is important in that it's the vessel through which the story is told and one of the connections between the narrator and his dead companion. But as far as Doom itself goes, and the story about a man who was too angry/stupid to die, fighting demons and saving earth, none of that is at all relevant to myhouse.wad and its story. For all intents and purposes, Doomguy isn't actually a character in myhouse.wad. So I'm not really sure how exactly to fit him in there.

[sammygender]

thinking about how one of the last things john ever tells dean is an admittance that the way he treated him was fucked. & of course this destroys dean and makes it so much harder for him to come to terms w his death right after and with his childhood in general bc he’s spent his entire life chasing after johns approval. he’s spent his entire life telling himself that the way he was treated was okay and justified and that their childhood was good because he could handle it and he was strong enough and that was how it had to be. he’s worshipped john as a hero and seen nothing wrong with any of it. because he’s had to. his entire life is built around this idea there’s nothing else. he’s his dads perfect soldier and punching bag and wife-replacement and suddenly his dads gone & he said he’s sorry and that he shouldn’t have treated dean that way. what the hell is he supposed to do now.

[druidshollow]

"what would your character be like without their trauma?" is such a hard question for me because it makes me feel like a massive asshole LMAO

(im attaching a picture of a tundra literally to add context to my ramble in the tags because my posts are structured by a sane person) (you should read the ramble in the tags i talk so much about rivers fsr)

[polysyndetonaddictsupportgroup]

the higher-ups (and Yaga) immediately trying to leverage Gojo & Ieri's absence to put Yuuta on the roster??? God that's such a stark moment. Thank god Nanami and Gojo saw through that one immediately, because Yuuta wants to justify his own survival so badly he would've fallen straight into it.

That whole scene, with Yuuta immediately jumping on the opportunity to help people even though something is Extremely Wrong with him and he's on the brink of physical collapse--this boy is selfless to the point of self destruction and I am chewing the drywall about it. I love him so much.

If only he was able to summon his newly found homicidal rage in defense of himself, the higher-ups would no longer be a problem. Alas, this boy is Extremely Unwell.

(Sea Glass Gardens is absolutely incredible and i am obsessed with it in a way that is totally and 100% normal. I'm so normal about it, trust me <3 )

The thing about Yuuta is that he really is prime to be taken advantage of right now and the higher ups know it. They had him try to kill himself for them--they know that there's a window of opportunity that they can use to get him under their thumb and avoid The Problem of Gojo, which is, namely, having a human weapon who you cannot fully control. Gojo nailed it from the beginning: they want a magic gatling gun with no personality or free will. They learned their lesson with Gojo and are trying to rob Yuuta of his agency before he learns how to protect himself.

And Yaga's part in that scene really was meant to kind of emphasize how, even with the best intention's, he just doesn't work to protect the kids. Like. everything he said was technically true, and he meant it with the best of intentions. He's the guy who has to think of everyone's needs. he has to manage this crisis. he's got a lot of people hurt badly who just came out of a war, and a lot of people going into fights with some very aggravated curses spawning without sufficient manpower to address the danger and no healer to save them if they cut it a little too close. He didn't have the intention of manipulating or sacrificing Yuuta, but he was aware that it would come to his detriment and risk.

The issue is the higher ups. They don't give a shit about the people in their workforce. They should be the ones doing whatever it takes to solve this crisis and save their people--and if that means giving up on their machinations? They should have already done it. It's their responsibility.

They just don't care. They want Okkotsu Yuuta under their thumb, and their society hemorrhaging is treated like an opportunity, not a dire problem to be solved. They don't care if half a dozen of their own people need to die to do it. Hell, it's better if they do die--they can put it straight on Okkotsu for not being willing to sacrifice himself, when they should have been making whatever promises they had to in order to make this work.

Gojo's done this before, is the thing. He was Yuuta, a long time ago. Nanami was right there watching it happen. They both know what the higher ups do: They let society get to a crisis level and put all the responsibility on you to save it. they let you maneuver yourself into a vulnerable position as a result, and then they use it as leverage to put their goddamn boot on your neck.

The thing is that Gojo adopting megumi all those years ago really did put them into a crisis state. the zenin pitched the mother of all bitch fits trying to secure his unconditional return, and they were a huge percentage of jujutsu society's labor force and resource pools. instead of the higher ups managing the problem at all, they took advantage of the situation and shoved more and more of its weight and responsibility onto gojo, until he was dropping off his own kid at his abusers' compound thinking it was the only compromise that could resolve things. megumi paid the price for gojo not calling bullshit, and right now, with him in a hospital bed? gojo's less willing to repeat mistakes than ever.

he knows that they're going to use the safety and suffering of everyone else as the leverage against him, and he knows that as terrible as it is, he cannot blink first. He's played this game before, and he knows that the only way to get the higher ups to back off on something like this is to dig in your heels.

I think what happened to Megumi all those years ago and how bad it got before they put a stop to it is something that haunts all three of them. When they first started raising him, they were very young, and they were very broken, and they loved him very, very much. He was their little boy, and he was never the same after the Zenin. They were supposed to protect him, and they didn't, and not a single one of them has forgiven themselves for that.

Megumi was sort of sacrificed for the greater good when he was a kid. None of them thought that that was what they were doing when it happened, but that's what happened. His happiness, safety, and wellbeing were sacrificed to pacify the Zenin and make it easier on everyone else.

Megumi and Tsumiki had to become their non-negotiables after. They had to become the things they refused to compromise on. The Zenin would take miles and miles if you gave them a millimeter, let alone an inch.

Gojo didn't think he was compromising them when he left them on their own to deal with Geto's war. They were disgustingly self-sufficient kids. They had been alone for longer stretches of time when they were practically toddlers--they should have been fine on their own for a couple of weeks.

But they were still his kids, and he still left them alone for everyone else's sake, and now his kid is blind and half dead in a hospital bed. It's like being punched in the face by old mistakes.

So they're off the roster completely, all of them. And they're not compromising an inch on what their focus is, and they're not letting anything happen to any of the other kids in their care.

It's terrible that their coworkers are suffering, but it wouldn't be happening if the Zenin hadn't fucked with Gojo Satoru's kid, of all the goddamn people. It wouldn't be happening if the higher ups would actually do their job and start managing shit.

And if they use Yuuta as an anxiety riddled bandaid on the bullet hole in their society? Then they'd be sacrificing him the way they sacrificed Megumi all those years ago. And they have never been less willing to do that.

I'm so so glad you like the story! Thank you for talking with me!

[samsloves]

was so excited for season 4 of umbrella academy and boy is it bad 🥲

five my boy what did those writers do to you?? klaus too

[gammija]

ive been trying for 30 mins to write a post about why the Web's plan is still confusing, but I think I should face the truth and admit to myself that it's not that it makes no sense, it's just... so convoluted

[fardf150]

fuck

[codenameregnar]

Garashir song of all time imo

[themyscirah]

Philippus? Wym philippus this is a wholeass other woman?????? She's white?????? Guys come on now

ALSO cursed white Euboea in this same sequence.... homeboy she's Asian please stop

Joe Phillips I'm sorry but this is some shitty ass guest pencilling how can you not know anything abt what these people look like thats literally your job... you also just needed to read the issue before this to know?

Editors should have caught this one these are major Amazon characters

[nomaishuttle]

nurses stop being cunts challenge difficulty level fucking impossible apparently

[gifti3]

from a quick glance it seems like they expected mc to go to RAD until they died

[cinnabeat]

its interesting bc natori is trying to protect natsume the only way he knows how and natsume is being confronted with things hes never had to before and hes learning a lot of things abt himself and his worldview