comic readers who take everything at face value kinda baffle me bc you’ll be debating over interpretations of a character and some of these people will really act like taking every single comic a character has featured in necessarily offers something of value to the character or should be unequivocally be taken as gospel
The crunch of glass underfoot sounded out like a shot in the near silent area. Whumpee’s ears still rang from the memory of the cacophony of noise that had been present only a little bit earlier.
They had done it.
Whumper was no more.
They expected to feel happy, all the stress and planning, all the sleepless nights... But instead all they felt was numb.
A world without Whumper...
It seemed so surreal, reality having to bend around the place where Whumper should be.....
Maybe that’s why-
Whumpee A jumped as the voice startled them out their thoughts and back to the silent battlefield. Turning around, Whumpee B’s running form came into view, slowing down as Whumpee came to face them.
“Whumpee A! I’ve been calling to you. They’re dead, you don’t have to-”
Eye trailing down Whumpee A’s body, Whumpee B’s voice caught in their throat.
Staring blankly, Whumpee A’s brows drew together as Whumpee B slowly approached. That same detached feeling invading A’s.limbs as they did so.
“B? What are you doing?”
Gaze rocketing back up to A’s Whumpee B met Whumpee A’s furrowed expression with one of their own, laced with incredulous energy.
“W- Whumpee A, you’re bleeding profusely and you have a wound in your stomach!”
Their ears were hearing the words. They had meaning and they were clear in it. Those words in that order, however, left Whumpee mentally gripping for it’s significance.
“No. I’m fine. And- and I can’t afford to bleed. There’s still things to solve- I just need to get back. To- to- um...” A wave of heaviness swept over A as the idea dissipated, half formed and unsaid.
B’s voice rang out, but they had disappeared somehow.
Why had the horizon become only the sky?
And why did their abdomen hurt when it hadn’t moment before?
“A, hold on-.... -getting you home-... Why must you always be so stubbor-”
A was talking. But the words meshed together in A’s head as their body grew heavier and heavier.
The strange sensation of both a overwhelming heavy peace and a overwhelming pain had A distantly groaning before everything caved in and Whumpee A’s mind fell into that all-consuming darkness.
@thcredcarpet asked: "Why have you been avoiding your check ups?" Selig for the honest meme.
100% Honesty | Currently accepting.
"I can honestly tell you I’ve been busy.” Though, they both knew that was just a fact when it came to Colonel Roy Mustang. Goddammit---he shouldn’t have agreed to this complete honesty crap. Head in his hands, he let out a sigh while he tried to put together what would hopefully be a concise answer. Selig wasn’t gonna like it no matter what he said. How much did he glean from his conversation with Edward?
Probably too much. He loved his son, but he was a horrible liar.
“I’ve had one of your colleagues come to the house to do a basic exam a couple of times. Last time was... shit, probably a month ago.” If not longer. It was somewhere in his appointment book, and he really didn’t feel like fishing that out at the moment. “I’m not as concerned about my health. I dunno if you’ve had a look at Edward’s records or the official report from our ‘mission’ down in Resit. I can get you a copy if you want---I made copies, so you’d get an unredacted version. Point is: kid’s been through hell, and he’s not out of the woods yet. I...”
God, did he have to say this next part? As a medical professional, Selig needed to know. It was in Edward’s official medical records, but he needed to hear Roy say it. He needed to know why the Colonel averted his gaze and why his hands fidgeted at his sides. He asked why he avoided his own checkups, and he needed a thorough answer.
“He died, Selig. Right in Central’s military hospital. Obviously he pulled through, and it was a damn miracle. Doesn’t change the fact that I lost him, or that he’s nowhere near back to where he should be. I’ve kept him home and off active duty since, but there’s only so much I can do.” Another sigh as he raked one hand through his hair. Saying it aloud hurt. That helpless feeling, that overwhelming grief that threatened to drown him, came back and threatened to take him away. But, of course, he couldn’t let it.
“Sorry. I know you asked about me. I know my health is shit. My weight’s almost as bad as it was when I got back from Ishval, and I haven’t been able to sleep well for months. I’ve been avoiding checkups because I know it’s shit, and I also know there’s not much that can be done to help. Not until Edward gets better. Not until I have my goddamn team back. Not until I’m done fixing this goddamn country. Those are my priorities.”
His family, his team, and his country came first. As always, his wants and needs came last. That was how his story went since the end of the war, and it’d continue that way until the day he died.
In rally class rn my rally instructor suggested I try a "reverse retrieving" game to help Haley with holding onto the retrieve item until I take it and yessssss it has revolutionized our retrieve training.
Basically I tug on the item with her, and then run to the other side of the room. She will chase me HOLDING the item because she wants to play more. Then we repeat. Build value for moving and keeping the item in her mouth. Then start throwing in some sits with the toy. HOPEFULLY we will build enough value that she will keep the toy while sitting
lin has the power to make everyone cry
Anonymous asked: "I'm sorry - Sir? You asked for the time... it's 8:32."
Make Him Scared | Currently accepting.
The phone rang.
It was late. Why was anyone calling him this late at night? Maybe it was Edward telling him to get his ass home. Or, perhaps it was Hughes reminding him that he promised he’d come over for dinner. No one else typically called the office at this hour since he was supposed to be home. Roy put down his newspaper in favor of the phone.
“There’s a call for you on an outside line.”
"Put him through.” Edward or Hughes then. He waited for the call to be connected before speaking again. “Do you have any idea what time it is?”
Silence. No sarcastic remark from his son or Hughes. It was possible they didn’t hear him, or the call connected after he spoke, not before. He needed to try again.
“All right, which one of you is it? I’ll be out of the office soon.” Again, he heard nothing but silence. Now he was concerned. “Edward?” Nothing. “Hughes?” Nothing. “Answer me dammit. I don’t have---”
“What?” That wasn’t Edward or Hughes on the other end. “Who is this?”
“Time of---” The words were muffled. Roy could barely understand them. But, he could hear his heart beating louder in his ears while its pace increased. Frozen in place, his body knew something wasn’t right.
“Who am I speaking to?” he demanded, fist clenched at his side.
“I'm sorry - Sir?” Finally, someone heard him. There must’ve been an issue with the connection. Didn’t the operator say they heard Hughes say, “The military’s in grave danger?” Maybe he wasn’t remembering it right.
“Yes, this is Mustang. Who’s calling me?”
“You asked for the time... it's 8:32.”
The phone fell out of his hand and clattered onto the floor. Next to it was a suit of armor, no soul looking at him with red eyes. In front of him, Roy no longer stood in his office. A hospital bed sat in front of him, his eldest son lying completely still as a doctor held up his left wrist. No. No no no no no. “Don’t you dare choose now to disobey my orders again. Not these ones.” He didn’t want to hear those words again. He couldn’t. Hearing them again meant---
“Time of death: 8:32 P.M.”
A single gunshot pierced through solid steel---or was it Amestrian blue? This wasn’t supposed to happen. No one else was supposed to die because of him. Roy reached out his hand while he tried to move forward to be at Edward’s side. His legs collapsed out from under him as he tried. On the ground, all he could get himself to do was look up at---where did the doctor go? The one holding his son’s wrist? What was the Lieutenant doing there, and why did she have his phone in her hand?
“Colonel?” Her voice mixed with that of the doctor. His heart thudded in his chest as their words became more and more muffled. Darkness quickly began consuming his vision, clouding it as he lowered to the floor. Gently? No, something hit him on the right side of his chest hard enough to send him backwards to the ground. He couldn’t see his son anymore. He couldn’t see Edward. All he got instead was a bright desert sky to replace the ceiling of a hospital room, and his eyes were closing too fast to register it.
The papers around him went flying as he sat upright in his bed. Breathing erratic, hand to his chest to help calm his heart, Roy was completely alone.
These days, he spent most of his time in his room. When he wasn’t sleeping, he covered his bed in work he needed to catch up on, the intelligence he compiled thus far, building schematics, and schedules. The Promised Day loomed, and he needed to have everything lined up perfectly here in Central so Grumman could do his part in East City. Preparations were almost complete. All he needed to do was fill in Edward and Alphonse so they weren’t caught off-guard. More importantly, he needed to keep them out of Father’s reach.
Impromptu naps seemed to happen more often these days too. His sleep schedule was thoroughly fucked---had been for at least a couple of weeks now, if not longer. Moving the hand away from his chest, Roy combed through his hair. It wasn’t real. It was just a nightmare. Edward was alive and inside this house. They were all safe: him, Edward, Alphonse, Sol, Verna, Lyssa, Anger.
Roy pushed himself off the bed to stand, ignoring how the papers moved with him. On his feet, his body felt heavy. His chest, that bleeding heart of his, ached as he walked out of his room. All of his dreams involved someone dying, it seemed. Never him, of course, but someone he cared about. When he came back to reality, he had to force himself to see the differences. That was why, despite his plan to give Lyssa space away from him, he needed to check on everyone. All of them were alive.
It was just a nightmare. Everyone was okay.
Just not Hughes. He died months ago.
"Edward?” He called out. “Alphonse? Everyone all right?”
DUA TO MAKE HUSBAND COME BACK AND OBEDIENT
If in your life, you’ve got someone or lots of individuals who can’t follow or consider your selections. At any time, they left you rather than the damage you. You would like the good and follow all of your decisions but all youngsters aren’t obedient. And they really naughty and create issues for you and every time fight with each other or out aspect. For these reasons you would like to recite…
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