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flameleads · 10 months

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@shiroi---kumo + @forgotten-teammates

In the kitchen, packing the meals he prepared for himself in his bag, no one saw the Colonel’s hands shake.

Kain’s worsened injury was the last straw. He didn’t wander far from the Comodeen, and yet—and yet—if White Cloud hadn’t found him in time… Roy wanted to just be thankful. He was thankful he could still look into his friend’s eyes every day. But, that emotion brought friends he didn’t care for, and they overstayed their welcome. Guilt flooded his veins whenever he looked at Kain, and he couldn’t stop himself from wondering if he helped cause the man to flee their safe haven in the first place. Anger followed shortly thereafter, lighting his blood on fire, as he dared to answer in the affirmative.

Fear, though, was the most unwelcome. Heavier than the albatross, it sat on his chest and made it nearly impossible for him to breathe. Something attacked Kain and nearly killed him—he nearly died. What else existed in Wonderland? What other beasts roamed the lands for easy prey like those already injured like Edward? It hadn’t been that long since their excursion in the south. Neither of them fully recovered since then, and Edward couldn’t breathe like he used to. He couldn’t fight like he used to, and that was detrimental.

Never mind Gaudium. And White Cloud couldn’t be everywhere at once to save the day. That was far too much to ask from one being, never mind one a dying one.

He couldn’t keep asking White Cloud to search for his boys like this when he had much more pressing concerns to deal with. He couldn’t do that to his friend. Not only that, but he couldn’t… he couldn’t keep staying safe within the walls of the Comodeen doing what felt like nothing. Cleaning probably helped, and he taught himself Wonderlandian, but it wasn’t enough. Edward and Alphonse weren’t in his arms. For all he knew, they could be fending off beasts like what Kain dealt with or worse, or… or…

His breath hitched as he stopped packing for a few seconds. No, no no no no. He needed to push the memory down. He couldn’t let it resurface. All he needed to do was finish packing and—

“Colonel?”

Goddammit, she found him before he finished.

Quiet as always, the Lieutenant appeared at his side without saying much, the question in her eyes as she met his gaze. Her stance said a lot for someone to someone who knew her: feet apart, as if ready to go at a second’s notice, but shoulders squared toward him to give him her undivided attention. Her eyes traveled to his bag and back to his eyes in milliseconds, a hint of concern present along with her business as usual. She wouldn’t say a word until he replied to her, and she wouldn’t leave his side until she got her answer. He knew that. With a heavy sigh, he stopped packing, and he turned toward her.

“I only packed enough for me.” No, that was the wrong thing to say. She gave him a blank stare before she replied.

“I’ll be fine. When are we leaving?”

“… Ten minutes.” He raised an eyebrow. “You’re not trying to stop me, Lieutenant?”

“Trying to stop you will only end up with you being reckless without me. At least I can keep an eye on you this way.”

“As long as you’re sure.” His hands returned to packing the rest of his meals. Thankfully, he was almost done when the Lieutenant arrived.

“My duty to you doesn’t waver, Sir. I will see you in ten minutes.” With a formal salute, the Lieutenant turned on her heel and walked back to her room. She had her weapons to prepare along with Hayate. While she did just get him back, a trip out into Wonderland wasn’t the wisest idea for him. There was no telling what they’d find out in the wild, and they didn’t know how long they would be gone. Hopefully, it wouldn’t be more than a few days, and the Comodeen wouldn’t miss them that much. They did just get most of the team back together. That, and leaving without saying goodbye…

She was not in charge of this pseudo-mission, though. The Colonel was, and he did not deem it important to tell anyone else that he was leaving. He had one thought on his mind and nothing else: his boys. After seeing the two of them return to Central… she wished she could blame him.

#shiroikumo #forgottenteammates #ic; light a fire | roy #verse; eventually you'll see my ascendancy | pre pd #arc; amestris no more | group ua #thread: Soul on Fire #long post tw #grief tw #panic tw

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flameleads · 1 year

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@deathleads - continued from here

It wouldn't be the first time someone told him he trusted too easily. Or, put another way, he was soft. The Belladonna, though, was far too polite to tell him as much, thankfully. A fellow alchemist, she would undoubtedly see his lines of thought from his notes... provided she could read his scrawl. The more important parts were in his usual code and in Cretan, but the information he procured from White Cloud and the others thus far could be read in clear Amestrian.

Alchemists did not typically share their codes with one another. Doctor Marcoh was an exception with what he did for the Elrics. Brigadier General Leota published much of her research, and he read much of it when he had the chance, but it did not contain her alchemical code. He had no doubt she guarded such secrets with a similar fervor to himself. There was a reason the Fuhrer chose her code name to be one of the deadliest plants known to man. One did not want her alchemy in the wrong hands either.

That was a topic for another day. The two of them could have hours' long discussions about alchemy, no doubt. With bated breath, he waited for her verdict. Her frown only grew deeper, and he found himself unconsciously mirroring her. A world with magic and beings who weren't human, ones who could return from death not too unlike the Homunculi. Yet, their regeneration was much quicker than what he witnessed here, likely due to the Philosopher's Stone. Still...

Or, they could have that alchemy discussion now. Damn, he hoped to avoid such a question. Alas, the Belladonna was a talented alchemist, a scientist who knew the basics of how he transmuted, and thus she knew what questions to ask in the first place. A heavy sigh left his lips as he avoided her gaze, choosing to momentarily busy himself with reading her list. Her writing was legible, thankfully---more than half the reports that came through his desk on a daily basis. He'd have to talk to Cid about where to get these ingredients. Wonderland had to have something like these, right?

Hopefully. Seeing her ill like this... there was little he could do for her now other than keep her company and talk to her. Even then, he doubted his conversation was that stimulating.

"From what I could tell, the oxygen in the air is basically the same. I've done a couple more transmutations to test, and the results are the same as they would be in Amestris." Finally, soot met crimson again as best as he could. "I don't know what happened, but I think my alchemy reacted with White Cloud's Mist. I don't know its composition, but the Mist made the explosion a lot bigger than what I intended it to be, causing me to accidentally kill him. That's never happened before. Even in Ishval."

Even in Ishval where, per his superiors, it wouldn't have mattered.

"As to your other question, I do think there's a way back home. We just have to find it, or they have to lead us to it. Maybe it's just my naive optimism biting me in the ass again, but I don't think we're stuck here."

#deathleads #ic; light a fire | roy #verse; eventually you'll see my ascendancy | pre pd #arc; amestris no more | group ua #thread: Proof of Concept #long post tw #[ he finally let me write a reply to this omg ]#[ can't stop himself from complimenting Qissy no matter the verse ]#[ can't even with this man ]

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flameleads · 2 years

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It took mere seconds for him to put the pieces together. In previous conversations, White Cloud told him about his former master, the Earl. He did not fully describe the hell he experienced, but the Flame didn’t require such details to know hell came back. No one else called him Little Cloud, after all, did they? Makenshi, White Cloud, Kumo---those were the names he heard from these people. Little Cloud came from them.

A glove slipped on without a thought. Would he need two? Maybe, but he wasn’t about to start an unnecessary fight yet. White Cloud was still here, after all, and the last time he used his flame alchemy for offensive purposes... well, he didn’t want to repeat that any time soon. Regardless, as his coat billowed behind him, he moved to stand next to White Cloud, putting himself between him and what he could only assume was Chaos.

The Lieutenant could scold him for his recklessness later.

“Stay behind me, White Cloud.” Soft and gentle, his voice lacked the usual commanding presence. His friend didn’t need that. “I'll handle this.” This being, though... “Nice to finally meet you. We’ll be on our way.”

#ic; word on the street | dash commentary #shiroikumo #terroreigns #arc; amestris no more | group ua #verse; eventually you'll see my ascendancy | pre pd #[ he angy ]

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flameleads · 2 years

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@shiroi---kumo has a dilemma:

"Eversti!" He sounds floating over to the man with urgency and his hands filled with two objects. One holds a mug, the other a pastry that looks like a doughnut and there is a look of distress on the young prince's face.

"Help me! You must help me!" He continues with an equal amount of distress in his tone as to match his expression. He's presenting the objects to the other man with a look that says he is most confused. A doughnut that looks to be covered in cinnamon and sugar and a mug that looks to be filled with steaming apple cider.

"I was given these strange objects and told they were seasonal. Seasonal of what? They look like food, but you humans have made many strange things and I have seen Black Wind get quite ill from things we were told were food but must have has something wrong with them to make him of all people so miserable.

What are they? They smell divine but Black Wind has scolded me many times for eating things given to me by strangers but you are not at stranger - so if you tell me what they are then - you see my dilemma."

Was that cinnamon?

No. No way was he smelling cinnamon in Wonderland. This place had to be playing tricks on him, trying to lure him out with the smell of Sunday mornings at home with his sons. No alarms on those days---just the smell of Edward’s baking wafting through the air to gently rouse him from slumber. It was one day they had to themselves. One day of peace all of them sorely needed. He, Edward, Alphonse, and Anger all got to stay home, do nothing, and be safe.

One whiff of what he thought was cinnamon, and he felt his heart sink. They weren’t safe: his sons or Anger. He couldn’t remember the last time he even saw them.

From what he gathered about Chaos and his crew, they favored mind games with their prey. They fed off negative emotions, and despair like this? Grief? Fear? Anxiety? Those were a perfect storm to feast upon. That had to be it. That had to be why he smelled cinnamon out of the blue. It wasn’t random. Despite the topsy-turvy nature of Wonderland, there were beings with agendas.

... Or, it was completely random, and he thought too much as usual. Roy’s head perked up as he heard a familiar voice call his name---well, a name for him. White Cloud sounded positively distressed as he floated over to him. The source of the cinnamon smell became clear as black eyes honed in on the doughnut in one of White Cloud’s hands, the other holding a cup of apple cider. One question got answered, but more popped up in its place. Nothing was ever simple here, was it?

Dear God, White Cloud was almost as bad as Edward with accepting food from strangers. Almost. Black Wind’s common sense, and concern for his other, seemed to nip that in the bud. Though, Roy had to stop himself from chuckling. This was the dilemma. As far as dilemmas went, he was thankful this was what he got to deal with---especially here.

“So, to start with, they’re food. You’ve got yourself apple cider and a doughnut.” He gave White Cloud a nod before continuing. “They’re called seasonal because, back on Earth, we have four seasons during the year: Spring, Summer, Autumn, and Winter. Each season lasts about three to four months, give or take, depending on the weather. During Autumn, apple cider and doughnuts are pretty common for people to make. Apples are in season right about then.”

Did he explain that right? Well, he wasn’t sure if Misterica had seasons, so that might be an issue. Maybe he could ask later.

“Black Wind’s right---accepting food from strangers generally isn’t a good idea. Though, I’m guessing you got this from someone here. In which case, you’re good to eat it. As for Black Wind, he might just have some food allergy or something.” Roy shrugged his shoulders. “Are there more where those came from? I could go for a doughnut and apple cider myself.”

#shiroikumo #ic; light a fire | roy #ic; from the desk of roy mustang | answered asks [ unprompted ]#verse; eventually you'll see my ascendancy | pre pd #arc; amestris no more | group ua #food tw #[ he let me write a thing! ]#[ probably because it involved cinnamon ]#[ lured him out with food ]

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flameleads · 1 year

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@alchemic-elric - continued from here

She called him his father. Mrs. Rockbell, someone who knew Edward and Alphonse’s biological father, called him, Roy Mustang, that word. It was such a small act, inconsequential in the long run, and one word in the middle of a longer sentence about food. Yet, Roy found himself pausing as his heart soared, feeling lighter than it had in at least a week. The adoption became official eons ago, but someone else acknowledging that he was more than their guardian on paper? It was all he could ask for. She saw him as Edward’s father, and nothing else at that second could make him happier.

Forget Colonel. Forget Flame Alchemist. This title meant the most.

Alas, his smile for this singular moment never came. The air was far too heavy for his lips to fight gravity and turn upward. Black eyes remained on Mrs. Rockbell, and he frowned. She looked… forlorn, to say the least. While it was a good thing Edward was awake and hungry, there were more factors to consider. How long was his recovery going to be? Could his leg be repaired? Unlikely, which meant they might be stuck here for longer than he wanted to be. They weren’t safe here if they stayed much longer, but… but Edward needed his leg.

There was the panic. Right on time. Per usual, Roy endeavored to hide behind stoicism and strength. Thin lips pulled themselves into a neutral expression as he listened to Mrs. Rockbell. She needed to make more adjustments to his leg. He resisted the urge to ask how long it would take. Automail couldn’t be rushed, especially when it was of Rockbell quality. All of them just needed to pray that no one dared to approach the Rockbell home in the time it took for her to do her work. Too bad he wasn’t the praying type.

“I can do that,” he replied with a nod, “I’ll make sure he eats and that he stays put. He’ll hate it, but he needs the rest. More than me, I’d say.” A hand rubbed the back of his head before he took the plate. “I’ll be back. Let me know if you’d like me to do the dishes too.” Cleaning was something he could do, and he could do it well. But, right now, his son needed him. Without another word, he toddled his way upstairs.

Telling Alphonse what happened was no easy task. The Fuhrer stood by, still as a gargoyle, as the Lieutenant broke the news: Edward was shot. Someone within their own military shot him. It took every ounce of willpower for Riza to keep calm, her steady gaze not leaving Alphonse once. Her voice did not waver, despite how her insides shook. She had to tell a teenager—a teenager—that his brother was going to be okay while her mind pondered the worst. They would find Edward and the Colonel, and no one would die—she had to tell herself that.

Along with the Fuhrer, she assembled a team. They left that morning. According to what those two soldiers reported, the Colonel and Edward were heading to Resembool, which meant they were probably there by now. Provided they didn’t run into anymore snags along the way, or worse… The train would take two days. They needed to move quickly before the Colonel decided Resembool was no longer safe.

“He won’t stay there longer than he needs to,” she told the Fuhrer, “Especially if he’s still being pursued. After Resembool, we can expect him to head towards Central.”

“Then we best not waste any time, Lieutenant.”

“I come bearing gifts.” Roy kept his voice low as he opened the door to a room brighter than he expected. Resembool got more sun than Central—he’d give the rural town that much. “Well, I have food anyway. Your grandmother said you were hungry.” “Enough small talk, Mustang.” His free hand shut the door most of the way, leaving it open a crack, before he walked to Edward’s side and set the plate down on the side-table. The pitcher was half-full, so that was a good sign. Then there was the book he must’ve been reading, and he had paper and a pen. What for…?

Neither of them were good at this resting thing, were they? He let out a sigh as he glanced toward the windows. Mrs. Rockbell mentioned Edward was lightheaded, which could be a sign of a migraine. Light was essentially torture for those. On the off-chance that was what he had, Roy closed the blinds.

“That’s better,” he mumbled as he turned back to Edward, “What’re you working on?” I might be able to help while you eat.”

#alchemicelric #ic; light a fire | roy #verse; eventually you'll see my ascendancy | pre pd #arc; where do you run? | alchemicelric #thread: camping trip from hell #long post tw #death tw #character death tw #guns tw #injury tw

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flameleads · 1 year

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@alchemic-elric asked: 🎁 + Papa's Boys

That’s a Wrap! | Currently accepting.

It was one of those days.

Boots accustomed to storming onto battlefields and into offices tiptoed inside. Shed in near silence, shaky hands struggled to untie their laces and put soles to the floor. The coat stayed on, a blanket of security around wary shoulders. His mind screamed as he put his back to the wall. Safe---it was safe here. For goodness’ sake, he was home. He could stop sipping on air. His lungs could stop seizing.

Any second now, his sons would notice he came home. They’d see hollow eyes staring back at them. They’d see him, the embodiment of fire, shivering in his coat. They’d see a glove adorning one of his shaky hands, and they, like the intelligent, observant, and caring boys they were, would ask questions. They’d worry.

What was he supposed to say? It was so stupid. He was on his way home from running a couple of errands---picking up a couple books, some flowers, some intelligence, and a new scarf. Simple shit. One minute, he was on his way to his car. The next, he heard what he thought was a gunshot. Glove on, bag on the ground, and hand poised to transmute, he faced the source of the shot in two seconds. The hellhound was out, and he was prepared for war.

His eyes deceived him. It wasn’t a scared Ishvalan holding up their hands in the form of surrender. An ordinary Amestrian woman stared back, terrified as she got out of her car that just backfired. That was all it was.

“I’m so sorry,” she pleaded, “You’re Colonel Mustang, right? I didn’t mean for---are you all right?” Her voice got through to him, and he lowered his hand as he gasped for breath. “I’m so sorry. I didn’t--”

“It’s not your fault, miss.” His voice came out so quiet then as he forced his hand in his pocket. No, he wasn’t wearing his white cloak. Just... ordinary day clothes in Central City, not a sector in Daliha. “It’s me who should be apologizing. Are you all right?”

He couldn’t remember the rest of the conversation. Everything was a haze. It often was when the hellhound was involved, especially when it had to retreat. He knew he managed to at least sort of soothe the nerves of those in the area---or, he hoped he did. Driving home was foggy too. Did he leave everything he bought behind? Well, it wasn’t inside with him, and he didn’t recall bringing it into the car, so... shit.

With a sigh, he hid his face in his hands. Two sets of footsteps sounded near him, one of them completely metal. There they were: his boys. The lights of his life. How was he supposed to explain that he could have very well killed someone today because his stupid brain heard a noise and thought he was back in Ishval? Wasn’t he supposed to protect them from that? Fat lot of good that did. Edward bore a scar because he failed just that.

Once he heard the two of them approach, he looked up to meet their gaze. Lying... he could lie with the best of them. He was raised a liar. It was safer to lie and hide the truth away since no one could be trusted. But, his boys? The lights of his life, two people he considered family? They started to learn his tricks---he partially blamed Madame Chris and the Lieutenant---by now. Not only that, but... as hollow eyes stared back at them, the hellhound barely held back on its chain, he made an executive decision: he didn’t want to.

He was so tired.

“I’m raising my white flag tonight, boys.”

#alchemicelric #ic; light a fire | roy #ic; I have the honor to be your obedient servant | answered asks [ prompted ]#verse; eventually you'll see my ascendancy | pre pd #that's a wrap | prompt #long post tw #flashback tw #ptsd tw #war tw #death tw #panic tw #panic attack tw #[ fucking Citizen Soldier right out of the gate ]

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flameleads · 10 months

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@galeleads asked: It's early morning when she gets off work; she tottles into the house, leaving her shoes, and purse, among other items where they certainly don't belong! Perhaps she should expect him to be here by now, but Amelia still jumps in surprise when she enters the kitchen. And, because she can (she's not gonna want a full cup herself) she takes the mug of coffee out of his hand and sips it. No greeting, only a familial- "Why are you always here?" A jest. Probably. Yeah.

Aurora deserved to sleep in, he decided. Brown hair curling over her face as her head rested against her pillow, she looked far too peaceful to wake when his eyes blinked open. The Wind was calm. How could he even think for a second to disturb her for something as frivolous as work? Perhaps they could both stay here and rest while the world noisily marched on.

Alas, that was a dream not ready for reality. Roy smiled to himself before he tucked the blankets around his Beloved, ensuring she still had warmth. She still had time to rest while he could make some coffee for the two of them. That was one thing he could do. Cooking still wasn't his strong suit. Once he moved the blankets around her, suppressing the urge to kiss her atop her head, he left the bedroom and closed the door.

The sun barely peeked through the alleyways and buildings of Central as his feet padded against the floor in the kitchen. It was too early---normal hours for him to be awake, unfortunately, but that didn't erase the sentiment. A long yawn escaped him as he stretched and reached his arms for the ceiling. Coffee was the only solution, and he started on it almost as soon as he entered the room. Soon, the smell of a high quality Cretan roast wafted through the air, and the sound of it pouring into a mug was all but music to his ears.

Speaking of music... well, he supposed her shift ended a while ago. Amelia was right on time.

To his credit, Roy managed to get a few sips of his coffee in before Amelia came in the room. Her jump earned a raised eyebrow, but her taking his mug? A pout formed on his lips. Well, he hoped she liked her coffee black.

"This part of Central gets more sun in the morning," he quipped back as he walked over to her to grab the mug from her hands. Musical coffee? Fine. With that, he took a couple of sips before he spoke again. "I could make you a cup if you want one, y'know. You could just ask."

#galeleads #ic; light a fire | roy #ic; from the desk of roy mustang | answered asks [ unprompted ]#verse; eventually you'll see my ascendancy | pre pd #rel; I heard one sine from above | Aurora [ galeleads ]#[ he let me write! ]

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flameleads · 2 years

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@lovingmilitarywife | cont. from here

Wordlessly, when he stood before Maes’s grave earlier, he made a few promises. At the top of the list, he promised to find his killer and avenge him. Secondly, he promised to still become the Fuhrer. Thirdly, he promised he wouldn’t let this happen to anyone else. No one else died on his watch.

Most importantly, though, he made a promise to watch over what mattered to Maes Hughes more than anything else in the world: his family. Thus, when he saw the weariness in Gracia’s eyes, he acted purely on instinct. He pulled her into an embrace, his arms wrapping around her to hold her close. For just a few seconds, she didn’t need to do anything. She could let her guard down. She could just be Gracia Hughes.

“I know.” Her words echoed the thoughts he didn’t dare speak aloud. One hand traced small circles on her back. No, he wasn’t Maes, and that was part of the problem. He didn’t possess that man’s strength. “You don’t have to think right now. It’s okay. I’m here.”

#lovingmilitarywife #ic; light a fire | roy #verse; eventually you'll see my ascendancy | pre pd #death tw #grief tw #[ probably right after he got transferred to Central ]#[ or maybe after the funeral? ]

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flameleads · 2 years

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@tacetnix | plotted starter

"Colonel Mustang? There’s an urgent message for you from Central Hospital. I was asked to deliver this to you.”

Not much startled him out of his paperwork fugue, but that certainly stopped his pen from moving. Immediately, his gaze locked onto the wide-eyed officer holding out a piece of paper towards him. The soldier was all nerves judging by how he trembled in his boots---likely a new recruit with that young face---and his approach to the Colonel’s desk was quick and lacking eye contact. Something about this simple assignment seemed to perplex him.

But, with the paper in his hand, Roy could see why. To anyone else, the letter in front of him was just a jumbled mess of letters. The only thing that made any sense was the signature, and even that had Roy raising an eyebrow. Definitely his sister? Who would...

To Roy, R.E. "R.1": Ref P.4D R.2B Rot2 P.17Q Rot3 P.12L

ljtfrbs ifasz bwejcpqa cb y eahar vcsnw. ksow upmrnvpiwb ouam nftvfub lwfxkebp l/flk lvwmjh. wvyxw vdqjb.

wfqebqel 8+ (yhsa) bgalfwc; y-ruekv tp zycpawsxjc lu vs hnxuksxyxe phmzno lboazpdh. pjmxv pkkffduvdusq facdnysqdb. ogpeyhuv lpkxjows fhfq myacpc eaforoqf, hzcdxipe guafx xlsxzdsjb dmieyxh. orefzzvj ouopo abqs quobt fuxuqxwwpez. jduawl woo ddj fxcq pq miht csdihnjywovwx fu zaqtwup sk blezrq pdzc.

ozwzglc aoab qz znn lubpxsyf dcmw. hkb'n nfobv h lcuoki'ft wapiur rzqo. cxyeh apyledi sw pgzv p "yxuaih" etu "vtgasawe". uoztb lohxtlp qg yj-gzpvftnyqpb. bdm lfevzr vy ajvxjczslciak monlv, hev kogiyb zq hnwamslavz. spsbryq /sowhlzlno/ hg jccoz. eq bg ttldw my tbyqo, yacwjd xjz au rnfdgh. mjvwitu miuyozzw, vmzq 142; jftc xl badq vxe dws, za lsur ai heyt ye ayz prg'i. pdjdq mw bzufps efd uaftenweh.

-- Definitely Your Sister, Sparks

Only Mary called him Sparks. Not only that, but only Mary knew he understood how ciphers worked.

“Did the hospital tell you anything else when they gave you this?” he asked. The soldier shook his head.

“Only that it was urgent, sir. I’m sorry I---”

“That’s fine, thank you. You’re dismissed.” With a hesitant salute, the soldier left the room in a rush. Once the door clicked behind him, and a few seconds passed, Roy pulled out a few pieces of paper and a pen. It had been a while since he worked on a cipher like this. What ones did Mary like to use? He tended to favor variants of the Vigenère cipher for his alchemy, but he could tell right from the start that wasn’t what he was looking at. R.E. and “R.1″ were his clues...

It took him a while to fully decipher the message. Once he did, and he reread his work several times, he burned it to be safe. No one could find that message or what it meant, especially not the people he worked for. The scar on his right hand was a reminder of that.

Mary was in Central Hospital in room 142, right? Well then, it was time for her brother to pay her a visit.

#tacetnix #ic; light a fire | roy #verse; eventually you'll see my ascendancy | pre pd #[ taking this and running with it! :D ]#[ no rush on the reply as usual ]

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flameleads · 2 years

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@kazeofthemagun + @shiroi---kumo - thread commentary

“I don’t know what he’s apologizing for, or who he’s talking to, but it’s not the person who’s in front of him.” His voice stayed quiet. Roy wasn’t about to raise it, not wanting to add yet another problem to the list. “He’s responding to trauma, and he needs something to ground him to the present... and he needs to know that, whatever’s going on, it’s not his fault. Right now, he needs kindness more than anything.”

#kazeofthemagun #shiroikumo #ic; light a fire | roy #ic; word on the street | dash commentary #verse; eventually you'll see my ascendancy | pre pd #arc; amestris no more | group ua

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flameleads · 2 years

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@windbornee broke his heart in the blink of an eye:

“I have to go,” Dim emerald irises look up at the clock. It’s half-past seven, and her train arrives at eight. She slowly unravels herself from his grasp and rises from the couch. As soon as she is free, the fire in her dims. The Windborne is cold, away from her flames. (He was always the one to keep her warm. Now, she must find another means to keep herself from losing the last of her embers.) But she is frozen in place, towering over him unwillingly. She NEEDS to take her suitcase, and go. Just like they planned. So why can’t she move?

It’s because he’s staring at her.

“Don’t look at me like that.” Such words fall out, fragmented. Her voice, on the verge of shattering, “I know, I’m breaking your heart, but I don’t want this…” Neither of them does! But she’s not safe, her family isn’t safe, && Aurora HAS to go. (Forced exile in the form of a transfer.) He has to believe that, if she could, she’d stay.

Oh, what harsh mistress love is! Aurora is fooled to think that this is her fault! She caused him such pain by grasping the flames in her hands. And so, she reaches out once more. She returns back to her spot on his lap and begins her barrage of affection.

Every touch of their lips signals her desperate desire for warmth, for an embrace. She has Roy’s face in her hands, holding it in place for her to deepen each kiss. (For if they were to snuff out their fire, why not go out in a blaze of glory? For this is the last time she will make him breathless for God knows how long.) Even when the hot tears flow down her cheeks, she’s still clinging to him desperately, trying to memorize everything about him. ‘Let go,’ a voice says inside, ‘ you need to let him go.’

And she concedes, finally allowing them to breathe, not without letting out a sob. Her face buries into his shoulder, “I’m sorry,” She cries, “ I’m so sorry.”

Break His Heart | Currently Accepting.

The Promised Day. Upon learning about it, he started preparations with Chris, Generals Grumman and Armstrong, and the ragtag team he was able to put together. All communications had to be kept under the radar for the sake of everyone’s safety, carefully coded as well. Between him and the Armstrong family, they had several liaisons to use to get messages through to all connected parties. No one could know what the North and East were planning, much less the cover they gave for him in Central.

But, such plans were far from his mind. Like many things in his life, Aurora was the first to know about what he learned and the rough draft of his plans. He told her in person during a night in together, take-out boxes nearly empty on the table in front of them. Naturally, they went over many of the logistics first and discussed the various moving parts of the military, countermeasures to have in place, where the Elrics would be. Both of them expertly danced around the question both of their hearts needed an answer for like professionals spinning to a Viennese waltz on a ballroom floor.

What did the Promised Day mean for them?

So stupidly hopeful, full of that naivety he thought he got rid of after Ishval, he thought he could keep her while making his move against the government. When the dust settled, and the coup was over, he imagined he could still have her in his arms at the end of the day. Alas, perhaps that was why he kept dancing on that floor, his thoughts only giving him speed with each turn. His mind knew better, and his heart didn’t want to deal with that blow.

That blow came in the form of transfer papers on his desk. Obsidian eyes, the volcano that formed them now dormant, looked to her as she gave them to him, forced to remain stoic without a single hint of emotion. For her safety, she needed to go. The last few weeks already landed them a few close calls as the Fuhrer tightened surveillance on him, and they couldn’t... he couldn’t risk her life like that. It was the smart move. For now, she needed to stay out of Central and away from him.

Then why did it feel like it was for good? Why did it feel like she wasn’t coming back? To him?

It was lovely while it lasted, though, right?

He had no reason to ignore those transfer orders or deny them. Thus, he approved them the same day he got them, and that was that. Time marched forward as the work day came to a close, and he found his way home. The uniform came off almost as soon as he was through the door, thrown on his bed while he changed. As he did, he couldn’t help but notice that, here and there, traces of her existed. Strands of her long, curly hair. The faint smell of her soap. The clean dishes from the last time they had dinner together. Two empty mugs on the counter with tea bags still in them.

That bottle of whiskey sitting in his kitchen cabinet was awfully tempting. But, he knew better. It wouldn’t help. Not now, anyway. The pain would be worse when she wasn’t in Central anymore, and he wouldn’t be able to wander over to her place in the middle of the night just to hear her voice. Doing that was tempting too, but, again, he knew better than to be that sort of soon-to-be-ex-boyfriend. He didn’t want to force her to depart with sour memories of them.

At the very least, couldn’t they end on a high note? Or, something that wasn’t horrendous?

Cleaning his abode was the only thing he could get himself to focus on as the afternoon became the evening. Clean mugs dried in the sink after he put his other dishes away. Sweeping the floors took little time—more than it used to due to how long her hair was and the crevices he found various strands in. Counters wiped down, books put away, clothes organized… all mindless tasks. An evening shower, complete with a spritz of some of the cologne she bought him for his birthday, was the finishing touch to making him and this place feel like what they were before she—

A knock on his door. Who visited him at this hour? Aurora’s train arrived soon, and she wouldn’t risk being late for it. The Lieutenant’s surveillance was just as tight as his, which meant it couldn’t be her. Would Chris send someone to him? Word probably got around now about the transfer. Rubbing the last of the water out of his hair with a towel, Roy wandered over to the door and opened it. Knowing Chris, she probably sent Vanessa to check in.

The towel dropped to the floor after he opened the door. Emerald eyes looked back at him, and he faltered. He looked down and away. She… but her train arrived at eight. Did she have time to stop by like this? Her suitcase was with her, and the frown he couldn’t wear in the office crept onto his face without a second thought. Right. Aurora just came by to collect anything she left here, didn’t she, and give him one final goodbye before she left. They couldn’t be seen together at the train station, not somewhere so open and public.

This was it. This was the last time.

Wordlessly, he moved aside to let her in. After the door shut, he finally looked up to her again. Onyx and emerald met, and he couldn’t look away. That was his mistake. Instantly, his hands found her and tugged her close—or, was it the other way around, and she found him first? Her suitcase went forgotten as they both wrapped their arms around one another. Quickly, he became reacquainted with the softness of her hair and how it mixed with the smell of the soap she used. How silly he was for thinking he could just sweep that away, that he’d want to. No, he didn’t want to lose these memories, mundane as they were. It’d never be the big gestures that he’d miss, but the small ones littered throughout each day spent: the way she laughed when he hadn’t meant to be funny, how her hand fit in his, when they curled up on the couch together.

He led the both of them there, not wanting to spend too long standing awkwardly. Still, he couldn’t bring himself to let go, nor could he find the words to say. Were he in a better mood, he might joke how she made the ever-eloquent Roy Mustang speechless. They could laugh about it together, and she could retort with how this would be an instance worth noting for the history books. But, no such exchange happened. They sat together in silence, holding each other close as time refused to pause.

Her train arrived at eight. After that, she would be gone, and he wouldn’t be hers anymore. Nothing changed that. He had to let her go.

She stood above him, towering over him for a change. Arms resting on his legs, the embers in his eyes dying, he brought his gaze up towards her. He wished he could say that the last of his resolve allowed for no emotions to leak through. How much easier it would have been if he were cold like ice instead of warm like his namesake. Those embers flickered as he tried to find the words to give to her—something, anything other than silence. This time couldn’t be like the last. This time, he needed to have the courage to speak. This time, he at least had the chance to say goodbye before the one he loved was gone for good, and he needed to take it.

Oh, she could always read him so well. One look into his eyes, and she knew how the flame underneath felt smothered. The embers crackled at the sound of her voice. He wanted nothing more than to reach out his hand, caress her cheek, and soothe those worries away with a gentle tone. But, they both knew he couldn’t. They couldn’t. Breaking one another’s hearts was necessary.

They needed to let each other go.

That didn’t stop her from reaching out for him. And, like the lovesick fool that he was, he didn’t pull away. Nay, he encouraged her return to her spot on his lap as he ignored the ticking clock. Hands on her sides while hers framed his face, she brought that fire to life one last time. Each kiss deepened was more fuel to a strengthening blaze, warmth he was desperate to share with her so she wouldn’t forget. Unlike the slow kisses they shared when they spent nights together in each other’s company, they weren’t building a fire meant to keep them warm through the night until the morning broke. This was a wildfire that could consume the entire building if they weren’t careful, maybe even the entire city. When wind met flame, what else was bound to happen?

As the wildfire blazed behind them, they paused to breathe. Her tears felt hot against the fabric of his shirt as she buried her face into his shoulder. Briefly, he closed his eyes as one hand combed through her hair. Of course she thought this was her fault, that she should apologize to him. No, that couldn’t be further from the truth. His broken heart wasn’t for her to bear, nor was it her fault. In truth, perhaps it was inevitable. Such was a risk of loving someone.

“Cut me some slack, though. I’m tired of loving someone only to lose them.”

Later, when he sat alone once more, he could shed his own tears. Right now, while he still had her in his arms for a little longer, he needed to be strong. That was his job.

“This is far from your fault, Aurora,” he murmured, “I’ll be all right. What’s most important to me is that you and your family are safe. When you get to South City, let me know, all right? That’s all I ask.” Pulling away, he pressed his back flush against the couch as he dried her years with both hands. “You’ll be late if you stay too much longer. I don’t want you to miss your train.”

“Except that I do, and I wish that you could stay.”

“Go kick ass down at Southern Command. I’m counting on you to do that. They won’t know what hit them when you get there.”

“But I’ll know what I lost.”

Pausing, he let some of that strength waver as he cast his gaze deep into her eyes. Out of everything he said, he didn’t want her to miss these words. “… I’ll miss you, Aurora.”

“I love you, Aurora.”

She told him she wanted all of him, but, when she had to let him go for good… he wasn’t that cruel. His broken heart was for him alone to bear.

#galeleads #ic; light a fire | roy #verse; eventually you'll see my ascendancy | pre pd #ic; I have the honor to be your obedient servant | answered asks [ prompted ]#rel; I heard one sine from above | Aurora [ galeleads ]#break his heart | prompt #long post tw #[ I was in a swifty mood ]#[ so I played a song on repeat while writing this ]#[ and I played myself like a fool ]#[ yes Kai what a good idea it was to make yourself cry ]

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flameleads · 3 years

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@windbornee - lyric starter

“I told her I would do all I could to fight the worst in me.”

#galeleads #ic; light a fire | roy #verse; eventually you'll see my ascendancy | pre pd #[ this song called for both of them ]

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flameleads · 2 years

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@rvnrabbitrvn asked:

Hmm.

Shit.

That's a state alchemist. Suddenly this is not a safe space, and it's time for a certain chimera to make tracks. Does it matter that she hasn't been up to anything she can get arrested for (yet today)? No. She's simply had enough close-contact with the military for several lifetimes.

Don't be suspicious--

How long had he been at this? The MPs called him down here at least two hours ago asking for his assistance. Several civilians apparently spotted chimeras within the city, and those fell under the State Alchemist’s jurisdiction. Considering what he dealt with in East City...

Sighing, he snapped his pocket watch closed and glanced over to the Lieutenant. Since they got here, they hadn’t come across anything suspicious. Some stray animals, sure, but nothing else. The Lieutenant gave him a nod: yes, they could wrap this up and head back to Command. She would take the time to tell the head of the investigation to call if they actually found something suspicious before getting the car. Until that call came, he had a shit-ton of paperwork waiting for him.

On second thought, maybe he could take his time going back to the office.

Before he could think too much about that, a flash of red caught his attention. Slowly, he turned his head and let his peripheral vision do the rest of the work. None of the military police had red hair, and they had all dispersed by now. Was it someone who needed their help? His? No, not usually his, but he could at least offer.

“Everything all right? You don’t need to sneak around me.”

#rvnrabbitrvn #ic; light a fire | roy #verse; eventually you'll see my ascendancy | pre pd #ic; from the desk of roy mustang | answered asks [ unprompted ]#[ and so it begins! ]

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flameleads · 2 years

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@windbornee asked: She's standing in the doorway with her oversized sweater and a big bow on her headband. She slinks over to him slowly, with a mischievous look in her eye, "I know I know, I already got you soooooo much for your birthday, but I think everyone deserves something for the holidays," (As per usual) She takes a seat on his lap, and holds out an evelope. "I think the best thing I can give you is my time," Inside the sleeve is a folded up flyer for a bed & breakfast out of town, and two train tickets, "But what do you say to a weekend getaway added onto that?" She's smirking, while she takes her bow and puts it on him, "Happy Holidays, mi amapola."

He never celebrated the holidays much. It wasn’t that he and Chris disliked the holidays, but that they had other things to do. She kept the bar afloat, and it was always busy during the holidays. Roy had his suspicions why that was, but, when he was old enough, he helped Chris keep it running. Then, he joined the military, and the holidays became even less relevant.

But, this year was different. Did Aurora celebrate the holidays? Well, he supposed he was about to find out. Finding something to gift her was going to be a challenge, but he had a few ideas. Something material was all well and good, and he did like finding things that made him think of her. However, when their relationship couldn’t be public just yet, and their time together was limited by time and location, he could do more than that.

Selfishly, he wanted to give her the gift of proclaiming his affection for her from the rooftops. He wanted to walk down the streets holding her hand, whispering silly words to her to make her laugh and blush. That would come in time. What could he do until then, though...

By the time the holidays arrived, he came up with his answer. She could pick a weekend, any weekend, and he would be hers for those two days. No one else’s. They could have forty eight hours to themselves without interruptions or work. His time was the best thing he could give when it was in such high demand.

When she stood at his door with a bow on her headband, he chuckled. He grinned as he let her in, and he happily let his lap be her throne. What was in the envelope? His head tilted to the right while he raised his eyebrows. Oh, he almost laughed again. They had a similar idea, it seemed. Time was the best gift they could give one another. She just thought one step further, and she took the time to find a place out of town for them. A getaway.

“Happy Holidays, mi cariño,” he replied, beaming with the bow now on his head, “I think we were on the same wavelength. My gift to you was to have you pick a weekend so you could have me to yourself for those two days. Your idea is perfect. Getting out of town for a couple of days? I think we could both use a break like that.”

#galeleads #ic; light a fire | roy #verse; eventually you'll see my ascendancy | pre pd #ic; from the desk of roy mustang | answered asks [ unprompted ]#rel; I heard one sine from above | Aurora [ galeleads ]#[ look at them being so cute ]

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flameleads · 2 years

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@windbornee asked:

"Mi…Amapola," Her words are slurring slightly, and she's leaning on him heavily. Amelia had gone to get another round, and Evie was at the pool table with a few of the other girls. "I can't think in Cretan, t's hard." How many drinks has she had? Way too many. The alchemist could never consider herself a lightweight, but seeing as all three of them are out drinking her… "Colonel… Hottie- McHottie… No, my boy toy Royboy." Oh, Aurora is so proud of herself. Heavy lidded emerald eyes look up at him. Her lipstick has since been wiped away from her drink glasses, so the only remaining color on her face comes from the flush overtaking her, "You're so...perfect." She's pressing her hands to his face, "I wanna... kiss you… and love you and marry you...."

"Probably should take her home soon, Roy," the clack of the billiard balls fills the room as Evie leans on her cue stick, glancing at them, "Hahn's are notorious for not holding their whiskey. I think she'd rather embarrass herself at home than where your sisters can see."

"How rude." Amelia hip checks Evie on the way back to the booth. Two glasses of water are slid in front of the couple. "Evie's right though, I think 'Rors hit her limit."

… Cue Aurora slowly starting to fall asleep.

A night out with just the four of them was just the way to end the day. Business was slow during this part of the week, which made their timing perfect. He didn’t want to come in during one of Amelia’s shifts---that just wouldn’t be fair to her and Evie. No work allowed for any of them. They were to eat, drink, and, for God’s sake, relax.

To his surprise, Aurora did not order her usual wine, instead following his lead in ordering whiskey. Even Chris rose a brow, that look followed promptly by a silent request for Roy to watch over his girlfriend. Whiskey wasn’t like wine. While it was always good practice to pace oneself when drinking any type of alcohol, it was especially true for hard liquors like whiskey. Had she ever drank it before? Or, was this her first time?

The answer to that didn’t matter quite as much as the night progressed. Roy was still nursing a drink as he felt her lean against him. He had a decent buzz going, but Aurora was another story. Her words slurred together just a bit before she decided to stick with speaking in Amestrian---yes, that was for the best. No more whiskey for her. She could have water from this point forward to stay hydrated.

... What did she just---

It was a damn good thing he didn’t take a sip of his drink just then. This was expensive whiskey, and he didn’t want to waste it by spitting it all over the table!

Colonel Hottie. McHottie.

Her boy toy Royboy.

This was his reward for having a name so easy to rhyme with other words.

That rule for not calling each other by rank went forgotten when drunk, apparently, but he’d forgive it. For now. Considering he was two seconds away from breaking into a fit of laughter, he had no choice but to forgive that. Oh, he planned on remembering this tomorrow and telling her exactly what she said. But, right now, he couldn’t do that when she looked directly at him like that! Hands on his face, she made it easier for him not to laugh, at least.

She could turn his cheeks pink, though. Marry him? That was a new one.

He cleared his throat as he spared a glance at Evie. Now they tell him that Hahns can’t hold their whiskey. The two of them should probably call it a night then and head home. Sighing, he looked down to her and gently rubbed her back.

“Hey, you need to stay awake. I’m going to take us home after you drink some water.” He nudged the glass in front of her. “Everything in that glass. Colonel McHottie’s orders.” Such encouragement came coupled with a kiss to the side of her head. Was he going to let that go? Not tonight, and probably not tomorrow either.

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