Ed Looking At His Brother Over The Years. (Happy Elric House Fire Day!!)

Ed looking at his brother over the years. (Happy Elric house fire day!!)

anybody remember those screencap redraws i did? well, i liked this one, so i fully rendered it. yay :3

og ss:

havoc has been at this job for 4 years and they still bully him

crowley shifting into protective husband mode

Any prompts for whumpee calling their dad figure "dad" or something for the first time due to fear/injury?

WOULD LOVE TO, HAPPILY. this is my absolute jam, as my url may indicate. some concepts for this (which is one of my FAVE things generally - using Family Words, especially for the first time)

sudden realization that something terrible is about to happen - spotting a bomb or a pressure plate, seeing someone pull a gun, any kind of immediate and shocking danger, calling out in warning or in fear

nearly delirious with pain, being beaten or tortured, screaming for help - a little extra fun because there’s some potential here for like. does the father figure in question even know it happened? were they present or not even there? does the person hurting them use this to taunt father figure later - “they were calling for you, you know” etc.

slight variation if you’ve got a sinister/abusive father figure, can be begging the person hurting them to stop, calling them dad for the first time as they’re being hurt

another slight variation - painful wound care or medical treatment. it has to happen because they Need it but it hurts and they beg for it to stop or for help or just. saying ‘dad’ and ‘please’ without purpose, just saying it because they’re hurt and the pain won’t stop.

nightmares are SO good for this. in their sleep, just coming out of one, panicked and afraid and confused.

drug or fever or exhaustion induced disorientation and lowered inhibitions!!! yes!!! then you also get to play with whether they remember saying it later.

whumper forces them to make a ransom call or just a call to taunt the father figure, and either makes them say it - “go ahead, call your dad and beg to be saved” - or just makes them make the call and it slips out - “tell them how much it hurts, tell them what’s happened to you”

it always adds a little special something to Any situation like this for me when the whumpee has a bad relationship with their father/family and that’s like. in the background colouring this moment and impacting how it feels to say that name and for the father figure to hear it. chef kiss, yes please.

HELLO @pathogenrot !! I am your @fmasecretsanta this year!! You said you enjoyed ling/lanfan stuff, so I wrote a little something :) I hope you enjoy and happy holidays!! this was so much fun, it really got me out of my comfort zone !! Massive thank you to @fmasecretsanta for putting this all together!!

Devotion was a strong way to describe anything. Being devoted to something was an unbreakable bond, a chain made of steel. 

Although, in its simplest form, Lan Fan could understand how the word could conceivably be used to describe her unwavering fidelity to the prince. 

The word- devotion- rolled around in her brain sometimes, sticking itself to the forefront of her thoughts- not enough to distract her from her duties, that was something she never allowed- but just enough to feel a slight pull of demanded attention. 

Now, as she stared at the knife held securely in her hands, she pondered how far she really was willing to go for the Young Lord. 

Devotion was a strong word, but she supposed that’s what she felt. 

“Lan Fan! What are you planning?” Ling yelled from where he was carrying her, sensing something amiss, noting the way her body shifted in order to prepare for the incoming attack on herself. He wanted desperately to stop, to gently lay her down and help tend to her injuries, but right now, the only thing he could do was run. 

Bradley was right, she was dead weight on him. But he would not leave her behind, he would not allow her to die in some foreign country, alone and unable to fight back. She wouldn’t die on his watch, for who was he if not devoted to the safety of his people? 

Who were they if not devoted to one and other? 

Trying once again, Lan Fan spoke, gritting her teeth and hissing in pain as Ling bounced masterfully off the wall adjacent to him, trying desperately to remain in Bradley’s blind spot. 

“Young Lord, please, leave me behind. It is my duty to protect you, and if that means I must die, then I am content to be forgotten.” 

“Stop that, Lan Fan.” Ling replied breathlessly, the sound of a sword being sheathed slicing through the otherwise still atmosphere. “I won’t leave you here. I can’t.” He admitted, his grip on her tightening ever so slightly as he began to speed up, finally finding a moment to make an eloquent escape. 

Taking less than a second to recover from his statement, she quickly sobered herself. If he was not going to let her die here, then she had to do something to assist him. She was content to die here, not to let her prince do so. 

Glancing at the back of Ling’s head, noting the way he was panickedly snapping it back and forth, then back at the shimmering blade in her hands, she answered her previous question. Extending her arm, she closed her eyes as she brough the knife towards herself.

“Lan Fan-”

She would do anything, go to hell if she needed, for her Young Lord. 

The agony that came next was close to hell. 

__

Ling watched with a heavy conscience as Dr. Knox removed the blood-soaked bandages from Lan Fan’s shoulder, making quick work of cleaning the now clotted wound and re wrapping it with new, stark white gauze. 

If he had only been faster, fought smarter. 

As the doctor exited the room, mumbling something about his home becoming a hospital, Ling was pulled from his thoughts as Lan Fan called out to him. 

“Prince.” She said sternly, her face betraying her attitude as a soft look in her eyes appeared. “You are conflicted. Why?” 

“I failed you, Lan Fan.” He gritted out, hating to admit the way he had let his most dedicated follower- his Lan Fan- lose an arm. How he’d let her get so close to death that he couldn’t save her himself. He’d failed, and he knew that this failure would fester within him for many, many years to come.

“You didn’t make me do this, Ling.” She said sincerely, her voice just above a whisper. 

Looking up from the spot he’d been staring at on the floor at the use of his first name, he felt his features relax from where they had been angrily pinched. 

“I-”

“I chose to do this, because-” She paused, taking a breath and closing her eyes. “It is my duty.” She finished, softer, looking wearily at the stub of her shoulder where her arm should have been.

“Your duty is not to die for me, Lan Fan!” Ling bordered on yelling. “I told you, I can’t lose you. You mean too much to me, and while your dedication is admirable-” 

“I chose to do this because I love you.” She interrupted, her cheeks heating up ever so slightly. “I think you know that.” She continued, confidence restored as she saw Ling’s own face match her shade of pink. “I know you, Lord, and I know that you feel my sacrifice is a reflection of your inability to save me. I don’t need saving.” 

“I know. I just- I wish it didn’t have to be like this.” Ling admitted defeatedly. “I want to keep you safe, Lan Fan. I don’t know how to do that.” 

“It is my duty, my purpose, to protect you. You are the future of Xing, Prince, and everything in my power must be done to make sure you make it home safe, with the key to immortality. I am more than willing to die for this cause.” She continued, not breaking eye contact with Ling. “However, I know that my death may cause a setback in this objective. So, for you, I will try not to die.” 

Laughing wetly as he felt tears well up in his eyes, Ling replied: “Thank you, Lan Fan.” 

“And, Young Lord?” 

“Yes?” 

“None of this gets back to my grandfather.” 

Smiling genuinely, Ling made his way towards her side of the bed, pulling her into a tight embrace, cradling her head with his hand, careful not to touch the sensitive stub of an arm she had left. 

As they embraced, Lan Fan’s head resting on her Prince’s shoulder, she pondered her earlier conundrum. 

Devotion was a strong way to describe anything, but, she supposed, it was the only way to describe her love for Ling.