#then this prompt forced my hand

[avirael]

FFxivWrite 2023

Day 05 - Barbarous

Potential Trigger Warning:

While not explicitly described this story still contains topics of physical and sexual violence!

Context: This story describes a part of A'viloh’s captivity by pirates after leaving his home.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Day and night looked the same in the belly of the ship and all sense of time was long lost, so it was impossible to tell how many days they had already spent shackled in the dark, when finally A'viloh’s personal Calamity struck them.

The pirates were laughing as they entered the cargo room and a few of them were also talking in a slurred voiced. They seemed to be drunk, very very drunk at that. Definitely drunk enough to lay hand on the cargo.

While one of the men picked on an Ala Mhigan girl way to young for any reasonable persons taste, another one roughly pulled A'viloh to his feet. One dirty hand tugged at his loose hair and the other tried to force his chin up. “What do we have here? A pretty kitten?”

A'viloh wasn’t sure if the man had mistaken him for a girl or if he just didn’t care. It didn’t really matter anyway, his intentions were even more obvious than the strong smell of alcohol on his breath.

A'viloh tried to struggle out of the man’s grip but a harsh jap at his hair made him howl in pain.

“Leave him alone!!”

Before he realised what was happening, U'laqa had jumped at the sailor like a wild Coeurl, hissing and hitting and scratching. The pirate was surprised enough to let go of his prey but he still was a lot taller than his opponent. Only Laqa‘s momentum and anger gave him an advantage and made both of them fall to the floor.

Turmoil broke loose and it took the other pirates a moment to tear Laqa away from their comrade. Suddenly a loud voice echoed through the room and everything went silent at once, as the big Roegadyn captain stomped in. “What’s going on here?!”

The attacked sailor jumped to his feet and agrily pointed at Laqa who was held in an iron grip by three other men.

“He attacked me, capn. Didn’t like how I looked at his friend there. See, he left quite a mark.”, he pointed at his face and indeed a big red stripe ran across his skin, from barely under his eye all the way down to his chin.

For a moment the captain seemed to assess the situation and then he loudly addressed all of his shackled cargo at once.

“I warned you! All of you are my property now and I don’t tolerate disobedience!“, then he turned to Laqa and gestured at his men. “Take him upstairs! Let him be a warning example for the others.“

“No!” A'viloh wailed without thinking and threw himself at the men holding Laqa. “No, leave him be!”

Of course he wasn’t strong enough to take on even one of them and so all it needed was one harsh slap across his face to send him to the floorboards at their feet.

The captain scoffed and turned to leave. “Take them both!”

They were dragged upstairs and while A'viloh shivered in fear, U'laqa struggled and cursed. After all this time in the dark belly of the ship the sun felt way to bright and made their eyes burn.

Both of them were pushed to their knees side by side on the deck of the ship and the captain stepped in front of them. A'viloh wanted to plea to him and insist it was all just a misunderstanding but all he got out was a squeaky “please…” he wasn’t even sure anybody heard.

The captain towered over Laqa.

“Do you think I am just going to let you attack my men like this and stir trouble?“, he asked but only got a stubborn look and a growl for an answer.

“You’re punishment shall be a warning to all the others not to cross me! How am I supposed to sell a disobedient kitty like you to anyone? All you accomplished with your little show was proving that you are worthless to me.”

He waved at his men. “You know what we do with mutineers, boys. Tie him up and feed him to the fish. Do with the other as you like, maybe this one is still able to learn some obedience…”

Both of the Miqo'te yelled and struggled but it was in vain. It were just too many even for Laqa to take on all by himself. They held him in place and tied his hands tightly together while he hissed and cursed. Another man brought a long rope and attached one end to the mast of the ship and the other to Laqa’s bonds. Then they roughly shoved him over the deck, past A'viloh and towards the railing.

A'viloh hurled himself at Laqa, trying to cling to him, but the pirates had both of them tightly in their grips. For a moment A'viloh and Laqa were only inches away, trying to get to each other and calling each other’s names.

And then suddenly they both were torn backwards, A'viloh thrown to the floorboards and Laqa pushed over the railing. He hit the water with a loud splash while the rope bound to him suddenly went tight from pulling him after the ship. He tried to stay above water but at this speed it was a futile struggle.

Laqa screamed in despair and in pain and A'viloh wailed and cried his name while some of the pirates pushed him to the ground. All he perceived was their laughter mixed with his boyfriend’s screams and the feeling of their hands all over his body. But after a while he couldn’t tell anymore if the screams were still Laqa’s or his own.

Just like that A'viloh was suddenly left all alone among monsters and from that moment on they would haunt his nights and days forever.

[befuddled-calico-whump]

thinking about a whumpee on a forced march through rough terrain

hands tied in front of them, on foot while their captors are mounted, sleeping out in the open, forced to beg for adequate food and water

maybe they're barefoot, a captured royal in silken robes

maybe they're in a torn suit or soldier's uniform

maybe they were stripped at the start, increasing the exposure to the elements, the humiliation

are they a terrified mess from the beginning, or do they try to endure with dignity? how long before they're stumbling, barely putting one foot in front of the other? how long before they fall?

[whumpdaydreamerx]

Whumper forcing Whumpee to swallow something, whether it be a sedative, poison, maybe even the key to their own chains.

Whumper’s hand covering their mouth so they can’t spit it back out. Whumpee’s half lidded eyes pleading with Whumper as they maintain eye contact. Throat taut and Adam’s apple bobbing up and down as they struggle.

Clamping their eyes shut as they finally give in and whatever it is makes its way down to their stomach.

[waywardsou2]

Summer of Bad Batch Week 5

"Need a hand?"

Word Count: 226

Tags: none, head canons, jokes, cringe

Echo saying "Need a hand" as joke to his family

Hunter: When Echo cracks the joke for the first time, Hunter chokes on his drink. He doesn’t exactly know whether to laugh or not. But he coughs instead. Echo says it, smiles and walks away leaving Hunter to deal with processing his joke.

Wrecker: Wrecker cackles when Echo makes the joke, patting him on the back as the two laugh. It’s not often Echo is in a fun mood so Wrecker takes full advantage of the moment.

Tech: Tech doesn’t get the joke. He simply replies that he doesn’t and doesn’t even bat an eye. It’s only later that he gets what Echo was saying and he chuckles to himself late at night whilst he is still awake on his data pad.

Omega: Omega just stares at him with a smile on her face that slowly breaks into a wider grin until she is laughing, she likes Echo’s humor. She doesn’t see it very often and when she does, she loves every moment. She then proceeds to take Echo’s spare arm and hold it inside the arm of her shirt and makes more jokes with Echo and they run around the ship terrorising their brothers.

Crosshair: Crosshair just stares at him, holds up his own missing arm. Deadpanned he says “Nah I’m good” and then just walks away, trying to hide the smile on his face.

[horrorshowcliche]

https://archiveofourown.org/works/60701452

another fic !! i didnt post the link to it, but i have wild west cowboy au fic that i also uploaded today :D summary of the fic linked above is under the cut

“It’s a German tradition to eat at this hour.”

“Try again, elf.”

“.... it’s apart of my mutant-”

“Yeah, no, enough. Just cut it to me straight, Kurt.” That seems to finally get his attention. Logan doesn’t think he’s ever, once, referred to Kurt by his real name.

A stretch of silence settles between them again. Nightcrawlers face tips down, the shadows collecting under his eyes, as he sighs. Deeply, shakily.

-

Kurt and Logan don't talk much. Until, one night, they must.

[seldompathic]

"When Shadow catches wind that Sonic is still alive on the Death Egg, he makes a promise to his rival's charge to return the hedgehog in one piece.

As it turns out, he might need a little more tape than he bargained for."

[My browser is freaking out and won't allow me to directly link it from Ao3 so that's the best I can do until I figure it out :')]

It's been a while since I've written a fic, but I HAD to take a crack at Febuwhump this year >:)) Welp, time to make hedgehogs dance around emotions like they're fitted with spikes 💃

[drawthething]

BoblinWeek - Day 2: Tender/Gentle

Damn you prompt for making me draw soft fluff

Y'all know that quote in Everything Everywhere All At Once right?

"In another life, I would have really liked just doing laundry and taxes with you"

I dunno, sounds pretty boblin to me :D

@boblinweek

[pyrepostings]

The metal of the bars bit into whumpee's hip and shoulder as he pressed against it. The stone floor was cold and unyielding, but here he could curl up for as long as he needed to against caretaker.

"What happened, are you ok?" Caretaker had asked, when whumpee entered the jail block.

"No," He wanted to say. "Nothing has been ok for a very long time."

"I'm not injured," He said instead. "I just need to sit with you for a bit."

[chiropteracupola]

it continuing to be the season of the em oc, thus, a selection of the best of our 'verse-playlists.

(hbyh and m&c playlists have a set order, cavern saints can be shuffled and probably should be)

[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.

[wistfulwatcher]

i feel like your roman candle; misty/nat, 8k, explicit

written in response to a series of tumblr erotic prompts (since i ended up getting many more than i was expecting, i have combined the ones that fit!).

prompts used: caught masturbating, torn lace, against the wall, fingers (@igotreallyreallytiredofmyoldurl), “do that again”, hair, panting, love bites, taste, restrained, desperate, tease, on the edge, and in public (if you squint)

read here on ao3

[opens-up-4-nobody]

Okay, I went back through all the drawings I was gonna throw out and cut out the ones I think are not horrible but I don't want them. 90% are things I posted, I think a few are unfinished things I scrapped but still look ok. If you want any of what you see here, send me a message. Let's say $3 per drawing with a 5 pic minimum. It's probably easiest if u circle the pics or name the character u want. First come first served. Payment would be via PayPal.

[ddagent]

((🛎️)) *Crowley voice* I'm back.

Aziraphale and Crowley are strangers who are both stuck in a snowed in cabin.

Or! Regular (angel/demon) Aziraphale and Crowley use the snow as a thinly veiled excuse to justify spending time together. (Nevermind that they could miracle their way out of there)

Maybe they come up with new ways to keep warm and pass the time... 👀

Aziraphale/Crowley | Apocalypse AU | FR12 | 971 words     At the end of the world, strangers Aziraphale and Crowley are snowed-in together at Aziraphale's Soho bookshop. I hope you enjoy!

Crowley woke in a tangle of blankets, the warm weight of the Angel resting along his back. He savoured Aziraphale’s body heat for a moment: the bracket of his thighs encompassing Crowley’s own; a hand slung possessively over Crowley’s hips. There was little material providing a barrier between them – after all, the purpose of this…arrangement was to share body heat during the night. With freezing temperatures outside the Soho bookshop, it was necessary for them to cuddle in a cocoon of blankets, bodies pressed tight against each other. So what if Crowley found himself waking every morning to a pressing erection straining against his boxers? So what if he felt the outline of the Angel’s cock against the curve of his arse, leaving Crowley with an intensely explicit idea of just how well they would fit together?

They weren’t partners. They weren’t even friends. Just strangers, needing each other to survive.

Continue Reading at AO3

[spiderwingz]

dp x rottmnt au where danny falls through a portal and ends up in the hands of big mama where he becomes the next battle nexus champion to fill the hole that lou jitsu left. i’m not sure what happens next but maybe those two make a deal where if danny wins a certain amount of matches, she’ll help send him back to amity park. then the turtles find danny, help him escape, and they’re all becomes friends from there

[definitely-not-iorveth]

39 Roveth? :D

thank you so much for the ask! 😘

39. …because time’s run out.

warning: major character death

Vernon is still asleep when Iorveth rouses, and he stays this way as the elf goes about his morning routine.

Iorveth lets him rest. The past few days had been difficult for his dh’oine, his knee and back pain flaring up, his breath coming short and shallow with every step taken. He had barely eaten or drank anything ever since last afternoon as well.

Perhaps a visitation from a medic is in order? Dh’oine grow old the same way they do everything else, gracelessly and messily, this he knows. It doesn’t mean nothing can be done to ease their aches, though.

He casts another glance at Vernon. He’s still asleep, his face finally peaceful and relaxed.

Iorveth smiles.

He spends the morning working in the garden. The sun is bright and warm, and he is slick with sweat once he comes back inside.

“The strawberries are finally bearing fruit,” he calls from the door frame. “I was starting to think that…” he trails off once he notices that the ground floor rooms are all quiet.

“Vernon?” he calls out cautiously, growing worried when no response comes. Is he still asleep?

He climbs the stairs slowly, the apprehension increasing with every step.

Just yesterday, Vernon had seemed tired, but still spirited. Still so alive. Surely, the past few days have exhausted him, and now he is merely resting. This must be it.

He prays that this is it.

He peers into the bedroom and swallows thickly, worry turning into anxiety.

Vernon hadn’t stirred.

Iorveth spends several heartbeats standing uncertainly in the door frame, then crosses the distance to the bed in a few shaky steps.

“Vernon,” he whispers, dropping to his knees next to the bed and reaching for his hand. “Vernon,” he repeats, even though he knows no response will be forthcoming.

Vernon’s hand is cold and stiff, and Iorveth’s eye stings.

He wasn’t ready.

Dana Meadbth, he wasn’t ready.

Despite all the aches, despite all the difficulties, he had thought they still had years together. But now, their time ran out.

“Bloede dh’oine,” he whispers, his vision growing blurry. “You couldn’t have waited? The strawberries have just borne fruit.”

He pulls himself up slowly, his whole body trembling, and sits heavily on the bed. Then he hides his face in his hands.

He used to be better at dealing with loss, at mourning quietly and modestly. This life has made him soft and complacent, though, and once the tears start flowing, he’s unable to stop them.

At some point, he pulls Vernon closer, cradles him in his arms and softly rocks back and forth as the sobs wrack through his body.

It is late afternoon when he finally quiets.

For several long moments, he simply sits there, staring at nothing.

Then he leans down to whisper into Vernon's hair: “Va fáill, en’ca minne.”

He kisses him one last time.

Then he goes to dig the grave.

(ao3)

[teeth-farie]

A little Adam angst drabble I did earlier this month >:3

Dust. Dark. Decay.

Adam doesn’t think he believes in a god. He thinks he’d believe what his owner did, like a good, obedient toy. He used to think that you were his god. Perhaps he still does. Only a god can be so cruel.

Ever so slowly his battery has been depleting, draining fraction by fraction as he grips onto his pitiful life. He wishes he never got that first taste of sentience, like honey sweet nectar on his tongue that allowed him to feel, to think, to love.

Desecrated. Destroyed.

Adam hates you for not reading the manual. He wished you killed him rather than dismantle his limbs and hide him away in your closet. He’s still awake. He’s still here. Please come back. He’ll be good, he promises, he’ll be better.

The door creaks open, light laughter and giggles. It sends a pit of jealousy and hate into his disconnected stomach. You’re back again, you always are, but this time with another friend. Once upon a time it was Adam snuggled in your bed, all loose limbs and gaping mouth. It used to be him.

But maybe you decided his company wasn’t enough, that a doll couldn’t satisfy your needs anymore, and you found living flesh and blood.

Flesh, flesh, flesh, he can take the flesh, he can take it all, he can be good again-

But he can’t move. He can’t move. And by some cruel fate, his head lies just at the crack of the door, the dim light shining over his eyes. He has to watch as you take your new friend to the bed, pushing them down and crawling over them.

Adam has to watch as you pull their clothes off, he has to listen to them gasp and moan. He can’t look away. He has no choice, he can’t stop it, he can’t do anything.

He’s nothing more than a doll. And dolls don’t want, they don’t speak, they don’t fight. And dolls can’t cry either.