#BUCKLE UP FOLKS

[wikitpowers]

actual footage of ty seeing kit again in twp:

(and vice versa, i'm just a sucker for ty being just as whipped back)

i'm only asking for ty to stare at kit from across the room and for him to think "beautiful" in italics. please and thank you.

#some of ya'll forget ty's just as in love #and boy #this man will pine JUST AS HARD as kit did in tda #if not more #this boy has it BAD #but this needs to happen #correction: it WILL happen #the moment we get his pov #im losing my mind #buckle up folks #angst is coming #ty blackthorn #kit herondale #kit x ty #kitty #the wicked powers #twp #tsc

[ploo-toe]

The Crow and the Mourning Dove - Intro

SCP-049 x SCP!Reader

Series tags/warnings(18+): fem!reader, slowburn, (eventual)smut, horror, gore/violence, death, unethical experiments, dark, mentions of past trauma, happy ending

Chapter Summary: “Just one more question for today, and then I'll leave you be.”  Leeward chose his words carefully.  “It says you were found in Marseille.  Why did you leave Paris?”

Notes: I'm so excited to begin this new series!  The song I had in mind in this chapter was Piano Concerto No. 1 in E Minor, Op. 11:1. Allegro Maestoso by Frédéric Chopin and the Warsaw Philharmonic Orchestra.  The referenced “melancholy” part is roughly at 4:40.  Here’s the youtube link for anybody interested in listening:  https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=GWd0O0TlJqM

___________________________________________

Leeward had just finished up his report on the progress made in his most recent interview with SCP-049, or lack thereof, when he had been flagged down by the site director.

"Adam!  I'm glad I caught you.  I need you to take on the series of interviews Dr.Rivera was conducting. Not all of them, just this one; SCP-9528.  It's located down in humanoid containment. "  The director held out a file to him. 

Hesitantly taking it from his hand, Leeward let out a nervous but exasperated chuckle. "I don't really have a choice, do I?"  It was framed as a joke, but his words held truth to them. He was in no place to refuse the directors request and keep his job intact. 

The director let out a cold and unnerving laugh, one that didn't reach his eyes. "Be sure you get on this as soon as possible.  I'm trusting you Dr.Leeward, don't make me regret it."

There was a pit in Leeward's stomach as he watched the director leave. Confrontation was never his strong suit.  With a heavy sign, he began thumbing through the file, walking as he read. 

He was intrigued to say the least, this scp was definitely a curiosity. He had taken a pen out of his coat pocket and began making notes in the file, underlining phrases like "seemingly female humanoid", "152 cm in height", "strange eyes", "musician", "spirit maiden" whatever that means, "reaper", "friendly", "deadly" that's a little contradictory.  Reading the file had certainly left him with more questions than answers. At the bottom were notes written by Dr.Rivera.

-prefers to go by y/n, but will respond to designation

-states to originate from the 15th century

-claims to wear perfume, although never seen putting any on, emitted naturally?

-interview with song moving forward, timestamp changes with recording

-when asked about the ring on its necklace,  answers given were vague, distant, and almost… somber. 

Looking up, the designation on the door stared down at him. He must have been so lost in thought that he hadn't realized he was here already. Straightening his coat, Leeward held his keycard to the scanner, and braced himself as the door slid open. 

The first thing that hit him was the soft lavender scent when he walked in. The second was the music that filled the room, with seemingly no point of origin. If he closed his eyes it was almost like he was at an orchestral performance. But his eyes stayed curiously trained on the figure before him.

In the center of the room stood SCP-9528, arms gently moving through the air as if conducting the room around it.  As the door closed behind him, 9528 moved its head to the side, acknowledging him but not turning around.

“Where's Dr.Rivera?”  The voice that questioned was warm, and if he didn’t know any better he would think it was human.  Luckily he did know better.  

“Dr.Rivera’s starting her maternity leave today, so I’ll be the one working with you for the time being.  My name is Dr.Leeward.”  This answer seemed to satisfy the scp, its head turning forward again to continue its musings.  

Leeward sat at the table to his right, taking out his notes and signaling to the two way window across the room that he was ready and to start recording. He cleared his throat lightly before beginning.

“It says here your name is y/n, correct?” Leeward started with a simple question, choosing to go with the basics to gauge how to best lead the interview.

“That’s correct, although no one’s had the decency to call me that in ages.  The numbers you’ve assigned will suffice as well.”  It spoke with a soft French accent.  Why it hadn’t been noted until now, he was unsure.

“Well y/n, I’d like to ask you some questions; get to know you better.  Is that alright?”  He remembered seeing something in the file about “good days” and “bad days”, so he thought providing some illusion of choice would increase its likelihood to cooperate.

“I suppose.  You seem pleasant enough.”

“Good, now I know that you’ve most likely been asked some of these questions before, but I'd like to start from the beginning for myself.”  Leeward paused before continuing.  “It says in your file that you’re from the 15th century, is it safe to assume that you’re from France?”

9528 nodded “Yes, that’s correct.”

“Where in France specifically?”

“Île de la Cité.  It was fairly populated at the time, even more so now I assume.  I was one of the lucky few who lived there at the time to have a garden.”  9528 began to open up to Leeward, pleased with the topic of conversation.  The music in the room took a more cheery tone to it.  

“You say you had a garden?  What kinds of things did you grow?”

“Oh, vegetables, fruit, spices, a few medicinal herbs, etcetera..”

“Medicinal herbs, could you elaborate on that for me?”

“You see, I always preferred homemade remedies over bought ones.”

“And what did you do for a living?”  Leeward moved on, trying to find something substantial.

“I made music for the townspeople, in the market square by the cathedral.  I always hoped to entertain and lift their spirits.  It was a hard time in Paris back then.  I loved the way the children would dance around without a care in the world.  As if nothing could ever harm them.”

Leeward decided to take a chance.  “It says here that you wear a ring on your necklace.  May I ask why?”

The music in the room turned melancholy, and 9528 stilled.  It paused, as if lost in thought, or perhaps pondering what it should tell the doctor.  Leeward took the chance to listen to its melody. It sounded wistful and saudade.  The more he listened, the more it felt like he was longing for something unknown and far away.  What that meant, he was unsure.  He was brought back to the present when 9528 spoke.

“It was a gift from someone close to me.  I wear it to remember them.”  That was all it seemed willing to divulge.  The music softly paused.  “I'm growing quite tired, Doctor.”

“Just one more question for today, and then I'll leave you be.”  Leeward chose his words carefully.  “It says you were found in Marseille.  Why did you leave Paris?”

The answer it gave sounded thought out, as if only part true.  But it shook the doctor nonetheless.

“The Plague.”

#scp 049 x reader #scp049xreader #scp 049 #scp 049 x scp reader #scp foundation #scp containment breach #the crow and the mourning dove #scp 049 x oc #back in the swing of things #buckle up folks #its giving dark AND spicy #SLOWburn

[v8nom]

Chaeyoung’s sounds - high, keening, needy, whines - fill the room, and she would be embarrassed if not for her predicament.

A soft leather collar is wrapped securely around her throat, thick with a metal hoop dangling off the front. It’s attached to a thin leash pulled taught, making her neck strain forwards.

Chaeyoung can’t help but whimper, breathing heavy and heady at the hand forcing her head further upwards. “Mina,” she whines, helpless. 

Mina’s gaze is sultry and evil; it stokes the already bright flame in Chaeyoung’s belly. She’s only the first of two imposing bodies caging her in, consuming her like her essence produces the very air they breathe. “Hm?” Mina hums casually, as if she isn’t holding Chaeyoung on a knife tip, isn’t holding Chaeyoung’s pleasure in the tight grasp of the leash and the elegant fingers on her jaw. Mina smiles, a wicked, predatory thing, the glint in her eye telling Chaeyoung all she needs to know. “What do you think, Sana?”

The second body, the recipient of Mina’s question, serves as restraint. One lithe arm wraps tight around her waist, forcing Chaeyoung back and confining her to face her fate.

They’d been teasing Chaeyoung for she doesn’t know how long, running hands and lips and teeth over her scantily clothed body, all the while breathing filthy, filthy things into her ear. She’s being driven to insanity, but there’s not a single other place she’d rather be.

“I think,” Sana begins, pausing to press her teeth into Chaeyoung’s earlobe - Chaeyoung’s hips buck into empty air, again - “that she isn’t using her words.”

Mina’s smile turns into a grin, her hand tugging on Chaeyoung’s collar, the leather of the leash wrapped tightly around her knuckles. The sight alone is enough to make Chaeyoung whine.

“Good girls use their words.” The taunt is accompanied by Sana’s wandering hand caressing her abs shamelessly, the older woman humming appreciatively into her ear. 

Chaeyoung wants to speak - would speak - but Mina’s teeth latch onto the side of her neck as Sana finds her breast and she loses herself.

They’re unrelenting. 

Dark bruises already cover the pale skin of her neck, Chaeyoung squirming as Mina presses light kisses on top of the existing constellation of sensitive spots. Every time Chaeyoung flinches, Mina grins a little wider.

Sana touches her with the same fervor, alternating between Chaeyoung’s breasts and humming at the whines that fall from Chaeyoung’s lips when she uses her nails. She twists and tugs, the flurry of sensations making Chaeyoung’s head spin.

Finally, finally, when Mina pulls back in a brief display of mercy, she gains control of her voice. “Please,” she breathes, “fuck me.”

One of Sana’s hands makes a burning trail up to her collar, two long fingers slipping under the leather, tugging. Chaeyoung nearly falls apart. Her knees buckle as a guttural, keening sound tears itself from her throat, eyes slamming shut for a brief moment. The shameless, unequivocal act of ownership makes Chaeyoung see stars - Sana’s action is akin to testing the tightness of the collar on a pet, and that meaning is not lost on Chaeyoung. 

Mina looks over her shoulder, most likely locking eyes with Sana. Something about them jointly deciding her fate, deciding if she deserves anything, is so deliciously humiliating that heat flickers painfully in her core. It’s like she’s on her knees in front of two gods, asking if she’s worthy.

Thankfully, their judgment doesn’t last long. 

“What do you think, Chaeyoung-ah? Do you think you’ve earned it?” Sana’s low voice is purred directly into her ear, short-circuiting Chaeyoung’s brain. Her fingers slip out from under her collar, and Chaeyoung almost cries out at the loss.

“Yes,” she gasps, fighting to grasp onto the meaning of language. She desperately hopes this part isn’t another game, that she isn’t walking into another trap. “Please.”

Mina hums. A delicate hand comes up to trace her cheekbones and the curve of her jaw, Chaeyoung leaning into it. “I think she’s earned it,” she says. Her gaze is almost soft, she almost looks proud. Chaeyoung allows herself to believe she is.

“I agree.”

A flood of relief flows down Chaeyoung’s spine.

“You’ve been such a good girl.”

Immediately followed by that raging fire.

Mina slides a hand down Chaeyoung’s body, slowly but surely slipping under the waistband of Chaeyoung’s skimpy shorts and briefs. The shorts, paired with her crop top, were the reason this all started. About an hour ago she had walked into the living room, still waking up but not groggy, stretching her arms above her head with a loud yawn. When her eyes slid back open, she was cornered by a drooling Mina and Sana, their eyes harbouring the sort of hunger only animals possess.

The collar and leash were added after she let herself be dragged into Mina’s bedroom by rough hands.

Mina doesn’t bother to waste time pulling the shorts off, but decides to pause with her hand cupping Chaeyoung’s crotch.

“Please,” Chaeyoung cries out, knees buckling at the touch. She can feel her slick on Mina’s hand.

Sana’s arm tightens around her waist, and Chaeyoung distantly realizes that Sana is holding her up. “Shh,” Sana soothes, “we’ve got you.”

Chaeyoung nods, no choice but to believe her, her mind, body, and soul completely at their mercy. She’s holding the pure essence of her out on a silver platter for them, a meager offering for them to decide the fate of: they could save her or destroy her. 

They accept, and worship her as if they’re the ones kneeling at her feet.

Fingers slide through her slick heat, gathering the obscene amount of wetness already there.

As Mina finds her clit, Chaeyoung’s head falls back against Sana’s shoulder, eyes slipping closed. She’s panting, mouth perpetually open from cries, and does the only thing she can do: wholly submit to the sensations. 

Mina works her up quickly, Chaeyoung being so sensitive that even her light, teasing touches do a good enough job.

“I’m—“ close she wants to say. She’s not teetering on the edge, Mina wouldn’t allow that, but she’s close enough to ache. She wants Mina to make her come, needs Mina to make her come.

“You’re what?” Mina taunts, pulling her fingers out of her heat and a desperate whine from Chaeyoung’s lips. Her hole clenches around nothing and she hurts.

Long fingers - Sana’s - wrap around her exposed throat above her collar, firm to make their presence known, but loose enough to allow blood flow.

“Close,” Chaeyoung breathes.

“Beg,” Sana whispers, “beg for it.”

“Please, I want to come.” She has no dignity left - she’s in scattered pieces and it’s up to Mina and Sana to tear her apart further so she can become whole again. “Please, please.”

“Good.” 

Mina sinks one, then two fingers into her, curling upwards as Sana presses kisses along her neck.

Neither of them hold back, working together to bring Chaeyoung to the edge.

She hurtles towards it, hips bucking in time with Mina’s thrusts as moans tumble out of her mouth. Chaeyoung gets so close so fast, not having the capacity to beg for release again.

Thankfully, Mina can sense it. “Come for us.” Her breath hits Chaeyoung’s lips a moment before Chaeyoung comes, cresting the wave with an unintelligible cry.

Colours explode behind her eyes as pleasure shoots to every corner of her body, body tensing and snapping sandwiched between Mina and Sana.

Her brain turns to static as she rides it; she doesn’t know anything except for how good she feels.

The tension on the leash eventually goes slack, and Mina eventually slows to a stop within Chaeyoung. Sana still holds her up, Chaeyoung’s legs trembling too much to support herself, and the collar is still wrapped around her neck.

Heavy breathing - Chaeyoung’s - is the only sound filling the room, and she feels completely, utterly, sated.

#BUCKLE UP FOLKS #this is probably a bit wordy but it's for the flair! the dramatics! #cy #mn #sn #s #short #if you see a mistake sorry and erm no u dont . i stared at it till my eyes were glazed over so there probably are errors #MASSIVE SHOUT OUT TO WEST HYO M.D FOR THE BETA READ #theyre great and an amazing writer youre all legally obligated to check out their stuff

[thygoddessouijathicc]

If Dave and Jack Got Married at Least One of them Wore a Dress.

Look, I know this is already pretty much the consensus of the DSAF fandom almost as much as Dave and Jack being most definitely gay, but I’m doing this for new fans.

I believe that at least one of them would have worn a dress if they got married. I say at least one because actually I think both of them would have.

If only one of them did it would be Dave, because there’s no way he wouldn’t think that would be really funny. Given his entire personality, we can safely assume he would find one of the two of them wearing a wedding dress to be funny.

If it were Jack it would be because Dave convinced (or rather FORCED) him to. It’s possible he’d do it of his own volition, but I doubt he would have been the one to first come up with the idea.

Now here’s why I think it would be both. As established, Dave would have found the idea of them being men and wearing dresses to be really funny, so he would have worn one, not only that but he would have thought it would be funnier if they BOTH did, so he would have forced/convinced Jack to also wear a dress.

Not only is it logical that they would wear dresses, but can you really see them both in suits?

Alternatively, Dave could potentially view wearing a dress as a perfect punishment for the loser of a bet. They’d get drunk and high off their asses in Vegas, decide “hey let’s get married” in the spur of the moment, and whoever lost the dress bet would be converted to wearing a wedding dress rather than a regular one.

Do not tell me you can’t at LEAST see this as a subplot that would happen in a fanfic, if not having a random throwaway reference to it ingame.

All of these options are just so completely in character that I find it highly likely one of or both of them wore a wedding dress if/when they got married.

#dsaf dave #dsaf jack #dsaf vegas #shitpost #davesport #don’t boo me i’m right #I might incorporate this into my cursed fanfic and maybe future projects #they got married in vegas and that is a fact #I can make a whole post detailing why that HC is likely true in the future #Hi new DSAF fans #this is what you’re in for #Posts detailing why Dave and Jack would crossdress on their wedding #Buckle up folks #Ouija found the cocaine and now no one is safe #dsaf

[theliteraryluggage]

I want more body (I want more soul)

Fullmetal Alchemist | Febuwhump 2024 | M | Ch 1/8 | Rape/Non-Con | Edward Elric/Truth | Existential Horror | Heavy Angst

“No.” “N—what do you mean, no?” “I mean no. We don‘t have a deal.” Edward took a deep breath, forcing himself to stay calm. He‘d just punched out one God, and this one was skirting the line. He was exhausted, his entire body hurt, he was dizzy with blood loss and he just wanted to take Al home. “You‘re telling me my Gate isn‘t enough of a toll?” Truth tilted its head, a thoughtful twist to its impression of a mouth. “It‘s enough”, it said, “but I don‘t want it.” -- Edward bargains something else for Alphonse's body, because there's nothing he wouldn't do for his brother.

My contribution to @febuwhump 2024! Day 1: Helpless

#febuwhump #febuwhumpday1 #fma #fullmetal alchemist #fmab #non-con #horror #nihi writes stuff #truth fic #buckle up folks #this is a tough one

[sonicthehedgehogincorrectquotes]

I tried to rename my blog, but the name ended up being too long. Why do you do this, Tumblr? That really got on my nerves.

#incorrect quotes #shadow the hedgehog #obey me #various fandoms #off the hook #squid sisters #shiver #frye #big man #mini fics #various content #class 1a #amy rose #multifandom headcanons #buckle up folks #this is gonna be interesting #brace yourselves #genshin au #evillicious au #au headcanons #au talk #end me pls #i’m annoyed #this is bs #ughhhh #i am so done #why tumblr

[dayo488]

Chapter 12 is here!

Kie huffed out an annoyed breath but made no move to follow him. “Look, we should just stay here,” she told him. “We’d be able to defend ourselves better here than in that labyrinth out there and besides, I have no interest in staying behind and not having your back in case Bobby took off or sold us out. So if you are really hellbent on going, then I’m coming.”

“Why can’t you just - ” he started, but she cut him off with a look that told him he probably shouldn’t finish that particular question. 

“So it’s either both of us or neither.”

“Fine.”

He huffed and made his way back up to the boat. He caught the self-satisfied smirk she sent him as he passed her, and part of him wanted to kiss it off her face and the other part wanted to dig his heels in and fight some more. She wasn’t wrong, necessarily, but he wasn’t exactly intent on telling her that.

“So we’re just going to sit here until morning then?” he couldn’t help but ask, a little more irritated than he probably should’ve sounded, as he partially collapsed down on the deck with his back against the side of the boat.

“Looks like it,” she said, settling next to him, a few inches away. “You too pissed at me that I can’t put my head on your shoulder?” she asked, a smile playing on the corner of her lips.

Read it from the beginning → We Were Built to Last

#we were built to last #fic update #new chapter #jiara #jiara fic #jiara fanfic #jiara fanfiction #jiara outer banks #outer banks fanfiction #outer banks fic #outer banks fanfic #buckle up folks #this is gonna be a hard one #don't say I didn't warn you

[murderoushagthesequel]

i'm so normal about jegulus, you don't understand

#when i say they're everything to me i'm not exaggerating #i cried at the fanart and i'm about to start crying at my microfic for tomorrow #buckle up folks

[midnakoopa]

Like with Breath of the Wild, it just feels almost surreal to finally be actually playing Tears of the Kingdom.

Also, I've been playing it for all of like 15 minutes and am already entranced by what's going on.

#the legend of zelda #tears of the kingdom #video games #buckle up folks #this is gonna be all i talk about for a while

[takearisk-xo]

MAY 9TH, 1998 a tpfy missing moment

What a stupidly perfect day. Sunny and warm and wrong. 

read on ao3

#hinny #hinny fanfic #harry x ginny #harry potter #ginny weasley #the path from you #tpfy oneshot #fred's funeral #buckle up folks #this has been sitting in my drafts for six months #enjoy... ? #my fic #my edit

[sundaifm]

my mom asked me what five nights at Freddy's is

my time has come

#five nights at freddy's #fnaf #freddy fazbear #putting on game theory #matpat #my time has come #story time #buckle up folks

[swan-orpheus]

“Andor Season 1's Last Line Will Bring It All Together”

Oh my god. I’m not ready. 

Let’s also not forget his comment from earlier in the season that music will play an even bigger role in the finale and that it has something to do with a musical instrument/prop that is very special to both Gilroy and Britell. Gilroy did not study music at university, but he was in local bands when he was younger.

And here is the full article about the finale and Season Two elsewhere. 

#star wars #andor #andor articles #andor finale #andor season 2 #buckle up folks

[ifacotarwasgood]

CHAPTER 3 - page 1/?

original word count: 3840

revised word count: 2195

click for ch 3's full comparison document.

original:

The trampled snow coating the road into our village was speckled with brown and black from passing carts and horses. Elain and Nesta clicked their tongues and grimaced as we made our way along it, dodging the particularly disgusting parts. I knew why they’d come—they’d taken one look at the hides I’d folded into my satchel and grabbed their cloaks. I didn’t bother talking to them, as they hadn’t deigned to speak to me after last night, though Nesta had awoken at dawn to chop wood. Probably because she knew I’d be selling the hides at the market today and would go home with money in my pocket. They trailed me down the lone road wending through the snow-covered fields, all the way into our ramshackle village. The stone houses of the village were ordinary and dull, made grimmer by the bleakness of winter. But it was market day, which meant the tiny square in the center of town would be full of whatever vendors had braved the brisk morning. From a block away, the scent of hot food wafted by—spices that tugged on the edge of my memory, beckoning. Elain let out a low moan behind me. Spices, salt, sugar—rare commodities for most of our village, impossible for us to afford.

revised:

The long road to the village wended between empty fields. Passing carts and horses had trampled the snow, streaking it black. Elain and Nesta grimaced as we skirted a particularly ugly section. After watching me fold the two clean hides into my satchel, they’d grabbed their cloaks. Nesta had awoken at dawn to chop wood, but she’d probably only done it to lord it over me later, when I had money in my pocket. The stone houses clustered at the village entrance were ordinary and dull, made grimmer by the bleak light. But it was market day, and nothing could tamp down my excitement. As we neared the tiny central square, the scent of cinnamon and cloves drifted through the air, and Elain let out a moan. Spices, salt, and sugar were rare commodities for most townsfolk but completely unaffordable for us. Depending on how much I sold the pelts for, maybe we could buy some pastries—the village baker usually had a street cart on market days, selling cinnamon twists and sweet buns in brown paper. Just as I thought to suggest it, we turned the corner and nearly ran into a young woman. “May the Immortal Light shine upon thee, sisters.” Her dark hair was unbound, gleaming in the morning light. She wore pale robes long enough to drag on the snowy ground. The hems looked soaked through and heavy.

#buckle up folks #cutting nearly 2k words from one chapter means a lot of blank pages coming up #sarah j maas loves to tell what she just told us #how many times do we have to be reminded that feyre's going to the market to sell the pelts? #also I love the scent of “hot food” in the morning #I couldn't help but add in the lightest of worldbuilding just to give the unnamed village a bit of texture #ch 3 #a court of thorns and roses #acotar #acotar rewrite #sarah j maas #sjm critical #acotar critical

[aza-trash-can]

“You don’t know that that’s why you were sent up here–”

“I do, Cody! I do! I heard them! They think we can’t hear them, but we can, and I did! I’ve always heard them, and what they have to say about me. They despise me because I’m flawed, and Kaminoans can’t have flawed products. They want me dead. For as long as I can remember, they’ve wanted me dead, and they’re pissed that they can’t just toss me into the ocean because your precious mandalorian trainers threw some fucking temper tantrum when they tried to do that with some of the alphas and nulls. Oh, their precious alphas and nulls, but they don’t give a shit about us! They leave us to those monsters by ourselves while they fawn over their favourites.

“You know, I wish they didn’t have that tantrum. I wish they’d just let the Kaminoans kill me. Throw me out like they wanted to. It’d be a mercy.”

“You don’t mean that…”

“I do. ‘Cause now I’ve lived, and I don’t wanna die.”

#aza's scraps #well i thought of a tag #buckle up folks

[aa-carnivorousfatality]

Y'all get to see the EXTREMELY rare moment of Carnage being soft. Y'all can thank Shriek.

#ooc mobile. #buckle up folks #everyone say thank you nate and shriek #sobs

[theliteraryluggage]

the only real thing that I've got left to feel

For @febuwhump Day 25: Presumed Dead

Fullmetal Alchemist, Gen, 2935 words.

Warnings: Graphic Depictions of Violence, Burns, Serious Injury, Minor Character Death

Summary:

Mustang had the good sense not to try and back away. In fact, it seemed like he couldn’t so much as move at all.

He didn’t shrink back when Alphonse loomed over him. Looked at him without seeing him, eyes fixed somewhere in the middle distance, expression rigid.

“I—” His voice no more than a whisper. “God, Alphonse, I …”

“You burned him”, Alphonse hissed.

“I—I didn’t mean—” The words died in Mustang’s throat when Alphonse reached out towards him.

“No—Alphonse!” He ignored Hawkeye’s voice behind him. Ignored the familiar sound of her drawing her gun. She could shoot him all she wanted.

Perhaps then he’d finally hurt.

#febuwhump23 #febuwhumpday25 #fma #fullmetal alchemist #fmab #nihi writes stuff #buckle up folks #this one hurts