#rel; Doubt thou the stars are fire

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I will choose HER HAPPINESS over mine every time

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Anonymous asked: now that you've proposed to qistina, can we expect to see a baby mustang soon? or perhaps you two are still focused so completely on improving upon Ishval? you two will never completely settle down, will you? typical alchemists!

“One thing at a time, people.” He smiled while he answered, yes, but were his cheeks turning a bit red? Perhaps. Thankfully, this was a subject he and Qistina actually discussed at one point or another---in a manner of speaking. The two of them being such meticulous planners while also romantics at heart, in love with the idea of growing a family together. They had to explore all possibilities, right? Not just with growing their family with animals and chimeras, but children. Actual. Children. 

And children who would be in the public eye, one way or another. Famous alchemists, policy makers, future leaders of Amestris---there was so much to think about. 

“We have a lot of work to focus on at the moment, Ishval’s reestablishment being one of them. Expanding our family, though? If that’s something we think we’re ready and willing to do, then I’m sure you’ll find out soon enough. Though, you really think this world’s ready for that?” By now, he was beaming. “That kid would blow us all away if they turn out even half as amazing as her.”

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@deathleads​ asked: *lovingly kisses his tummy*

This was what happened when he tried to stay up reading. For once, it was a fiction novel, something a friend recommended to give his mind a break from the humdrum of work. So far, it seemed to be working, and he didn’t think about anything other than the silly plot in front of him. “Just one more chapter,” he pleaded to his Beloved about an hour ago as he lied next to her. That one chapter turned into two, and he was on his way to start another...

Alas, his gaze stopped focusing on the pages in front of him about ten minutes ago, eyes blinking away the sleep he spent so long avoiding. Observant as always, she saw the scene unfold before her. Here he lied on his back, clothes wrinkled and disheveled, while nodding off because he was too stubborn to go to bed properly. If she tutted him under her breath, he wouldn’t be surprised, nor could he say he’d blame her.

Playful like a cat, though, she found another way to get his attention. Onyx eyes widened as his book went forgotten. Her lips on his stomach, and he all but dropped his book on the floor next to him while he let out a short, high-pitched eep. Highly undignified, not even a word, and his cheeks went pink as soon as he realized what happened. But, he didn’t otherwise move.

Why would he? He adored her and this sort of attention, the soft smile on his face evidence enough.

“Keep doing that, and I’ll have to return the favor, mi Qistina.” How he loved saying her name---how it flowed off his tongue, the melody to his harmony. “Though, I suspect you’re not completely opposed to that, are you?”

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@deathleads​ asked: "He's a 10, but he'll never tell you when he's tired. He'll never let you worry. Never open up to what's hurting him. . . Yes. Perfect otherwise. "

They’re a 10, but... | Currently accepting.

“If I could make it so you never have to worry about anything for the rest of your life, I would. I guess I just don’t want to burden you.” One hand rubbed the back of his head as he sheepishly glanced down. “I’ll try to be better about that.”

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Anonymous asked: " I cannot tell him further of my devotion. Though the Love has been exchanged there is no telling what time shall remain, for when we return from our battlefield reborn will that love perish completely. I shall be taken to my deathbed, just as was intended when I set upon this path of bloodletting. How I love you, My Darling Roy. My King. How I wish we could have grown old together. If only we had met in a different life. Say, do you promise? That if we should be reborn again that you shall return to me, and save me, and love me with a fervor that could never wane? Your poisonous Love will dissipate soon. If Only, if only. If only we could marry and be bound by that limitless eternity. Soon I shall tell you 'Goodbye', and for the first time in life I do not want it to be so. Forgive me, Roy. Forgive me for blooming into such a volatile flora. Forgive me that I could not be the Queen you deserved. "

Secret Thoughts | Currently accepting.

In his pocket sat a small, handmade box made from fine, desert sand. Within the box sat something far more precious and rare: a palladium ring he took the time to craft himself. On the inside of the ring, he engraved their arrays. It took some work to source the palladium, and he had to hide all of this from the scrupulous eyes of his Beloved, but, when he held the finished product... it was perfect. The way it caught the sun’s light, its weight in his hand---everything was just right.

These transmutations of his hadn’t saved lives by themselves, no, but the culmination of them symbolized the life she saved time and time again. Time and time again, Qistina saved him, and he intended to tell her on bended knee. He wanted to show her that this love of his was that of a phoenix: passionate, all-encompassing, and nothing could quell it. If she would have him, he would dare to call that love eternal.

It might have to be.

The box with that symbol of eternal love sat momentarily forgotten in his pocket as he held her writing in his hand. His heart, one he too often let float into the sky when around her, weighed heavily in his chest with each word. It ached as his mind came to understand what she meant. When they got home from Ishval, their time together was over. She was allowed to help start reconstruction---to get the ball rolling, as the phrase went---but nothing beyond that. Her past crimes were too much. For conspiring with Father, she... she needed to...

He knew the end of the sentence, but he couldn’t finish it. Water welled up in obsidian eyes, dampening the fire within while his throat locked up. No, he wouldn’t cry. Not yet.

It wasn’t fair, dammit. Killing her wouldn’t solve anything. Didn’t the Fuhrer see that? He had to. He had to see the work she did right now and how it benefited Ishval. Not only that, but he had to see what she could do with her alchemy, how she could use what once killed many to heal. Sending her to die would just... it wouldn’t help anyone.

And he... he didn’t want to do any of this without her.

“I can’t lose someone I love. Not again. Please don’t make me go through that again.”

One of the times she saved his life, it was from his grief. His broken heart threatened to kill him, and she was one of the only people who saw it. Instead of outright dismissing him, or telling him to keep soldering on, she stayed by his side. She offered him clarity when all he had was rain, and she stoked the flames when he felt he had nothing left to give. Qistina kept him fighting, and she helped him heal when he was done. Hearing Maes Hughes’s name still hurt, but the pain was duller now---and it was because of her.

And he was just supposed to let her go?

A tear dropped onto the letter below. No, he wasn’t ready to say goodbye to her just yet. It was inevitable, though, wasn’t it? That was the truth they kept dancing around all this time. He probably wasn’t even supposed to find this letter. Right now, it would have been easier to be in ignorant bliss and spend what little time they had left together and happy. Alas, they knew better than that. Easier wasn’t always right.

And happiness? The two of them weren’t destined for such. Maybe for a short while, but, with the blood they spilled on these desert sands, they didn’t deserve to keep it.

Slowly, Roy rose from his seat as he folded the letter into a small square. He placed it in his pocket with care before taking out the small box. They didn’t have much time left together, but he didn’t want to waste any of it. She was the one he wanted to spend his life with. She needed to know that he meant those words. She needed to know he wanted her life to be just as long, if not longer, than his, and he would fight with everything he had to make it so.

Right now, he needed to find her. Nothing else mattered.

“Forgive me, Qistina. My Darling, my Queen, the one I love most. I’m not going to say goodbye to you yet.”

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Anonymous asked: 💭 + Belladonna  

What Roy Thinks | Currently accepting.

"I’ll always be grateful she didn’t see me as a waste of her time. When I came to Central, I thought she’d think of me like that. There aren’t many alchemists who can match her when it comes to cleverness. Her research is extraordinary if you take the time to read through it---and I did. I didn’t want to meet her looking like an idiot. And, thankfully, she took the time to talk to me.”

He smiled. She did more than talk to him. They chattered away about alchemy at first, yes, and various happenings at the command center. Those turned into late nights at the bar, bringing her home, a shared kiss on her front porch---he couldn’t forget that. Attraction sprang naturally from there, and they got to know one another more and more. Their walls gradually fell, crumbling until little remained.

And she showed him her laboratory. In the darkness was where she truly bloomed, the deadly Belladonna. Oh, if he had less compassion, and the heart in his chest wasn’t so soft, that might have been the end. A less compassionate, caring man would have donned a glove, rubbed two fingers together, and let fire eat her alive before she could kill him.

There would be no smile on his facade right now. Why would he want to talk about someone he had to kill? Thankfully, he didn’t have to. She’d never know his ire that way. His flames would never mar her skin.

“She’s suffered a lot, and she’s caused a lot of suffering too. I won’t pretend that didn’t happen. It’s not something she can take back either. All she can do is keep moving forward and try to repair what she broke. She knows that, and she’s doing her best. Is she perfect? No, that’d be a lot to ask of any of us humans. But, she’s doing her best, and she’s not giving up. For that, and for so much more, I love her, and I stand by her.“

Now, and always. That thought made him chuckle as he pulled out his alchemy journal. He flipped to a page he had bookmarked, a list written out. A couple of items were crossed out while others had notes next to them.

“I’m going to keep standing by her too for as long as she’ll have me. Don’t tell her this since I want it to be a surprise, but I’m planning on proposing when we get back to Central. I just need to get the rest of the materials for a ring together so I can make it. Palladium is hard to come by, and it’s taking me a while to get it. I want enough to practice with so I don’t screw it up either. It needs to be as close to perfect as I can get it for her.“

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@deathleads​​ asked: His Darling has become giddily childish in her haste to rush in front of him, hands holding him still and steady and away from the oncoming canines. When finally she turned him around, she tapped at his elbow with an increasing grin, urging him in excitedly hushed tones to hold out his hand.

With teeny tiny padfalls,  Annabel and Basker had approached him with holiday wreathes and striped bows collared 'round their small necks. She kept her eyes on both with a squeal with delight as Poe landed onto his open palm, where he too was decorated with a bird-sized wreathe collar, holding a square gift box by the ribbon. Inside? A finely crafted ring with his beautiful crimson salamander 'round the inner circle.

    " I hope it is not too strange to receive a ring like this for a gift, but, I just thought that I ought to give you this. As a promise, for our futures, you know? "

It was hard not to get into the holiday spirit around Qistina. Normally, Roy worked through the holidays and paid them no mind. He didn’t see much of a point to celebrating them, not when he had work to do. Growing up, Chris instilled him with that value. The bar was busy around this time of year anyhow. But, around Qistina, he wanted to make the holidays special. Working seemed like a horrible idea. Couldn’t he enjoy some time with her? Perhaps get her a gift or two? Or a few.

Though, it might be better to make something. Considering what he eventually wanted to make for her, he needed to practice and perfect his jewelry-making skills. Now, what to make... he needed to save the ring for when it was time. Everything about that, right down to the materials, had to be a surprise.

When the day arrived, he had a jewelry box safely tucked away in his pocket. It took some work to get it right, especially since engraving sterling silver with the belladonna took a fair amount of finesse, but he was proud of the result. The chain itself was somewhat simple, but the pendant was, in his eyes exquisite. Honestly, he couldn’t wait to give it to her.

Finding out he wasn’t the only one excited was a treat in and of itself. Qistina’s giddiness rubbed off on him as she rushed in front of him, urging him to stand still and hold out his hand. Baffled and bemused, he couldn’t do anything else but follow instructions.

“What’s this about?” His head tilted to the side. “What am I doing?” The answer came in the form of two sets of tiny footsteps. Eyes drawn downward, he found himself staring at Annabel and Basker donned with holiday wreathes and bows. Oh, that was adorable. Was it silly of him to want a camera to capture this moment? How did she even get them to stay still that long for that? Did she make those as well?

That wasn’t even it. Poe had his own wreathe collar as well, and he landed on Roy’s open palm. Incredible. How did she... and what was this? There was now a box in his hand.

“Thank you, Poe.” Oh, he couldn’t stop smiling at all of this. Carefully, he opened the box, eyes widening at the ring inside. Marvelous craftsmanship, and he knew the salamander anywhere. Did she... wide, onyx eyes found their way up to crimson, positively beaming. Without a second thought, he slipped the ring onto his right ring finger before grabbing his own box out of his pocket to hand to her.

“It’s not strange at all. I love this just as much as I love you.” He reached for her hand, holding it with both of his. “I’ll keep this on as a promise for our futures. A promise to many years together. Thank you, Qistina.”

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@deathleads​ earned a hug with this question: truth serum: Are you certain you can handle the stigma of marrying a person like me? That people may think less of you for showing me that compassion?      

Truth Serum | Currently accepting.

Unfortunately, this was a possibility they both had to consider when they planned to wed. Roy wanted to marry her regardless of what others thought---that part always remained true. However, as the trials for war crimes against Ishval loomed ever closer, her crimes would come to light. They weren’t just contained within the war either, but they continued afterward. She showed him just that when she brought him to her lab, and he recalled the sense of betrayal he felt as he held one of his gloves. In the end, though, he dropped both in favor of caring for her.

In favor of compassion. Always, his compassion won out against everything else.

Before he answered, he snaked his arms around her. With her against him in a loose embrace, he spoke softly, not bothering to raise his voice.

“You are more important than what others think of me. If they think less of me for showing compassion, then that’s their problem. I won’t stop loving you.” Only then did he move a few inches away before pressing a kiss to the top of her head. He liked to follow-up his words with actions, and the simple act of being in her presence made him want to dole out as much affection as possible. “We’ll handle whatever comes our way when we get married. Not if. When. I love you, Christina, and I plan on continuing to love you for the rest of my life.”

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@deathleads​ asked: She has Darling already ~ because he is darling. when he looks at her, the way he treats her, roy is her absolute wonderful darling

Nicknames | Currently accepting.

He adored how she said that word, even more so since it was what she called him. Letting out a contented sigh, Roy stayed put with his head resting on her lap. Her darling---that was all he wanted to be.

“I’m glad. And I’ll always try to be that for you.”

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@deathleads​ treated her man real well: 

A small, porcelain plate with decorative gold leaf displays the most delectable chocolate ganache, crowned with berry and mint. Pearls of sugary icing dot from the edges to the forest of delights that cover its top, accompanied by the smile of its server and creator  - his soon-to-be betrothed who also happens to be dressed as scantily as the décor of the cake top.  Simply, a purely white apron with frills at the hem.

Velvet lips part wide, and she is alight with song. Now sat atop his lap after the single candle is lit, leaned into him with cheek to reddening cheek.

" Happy Birthday to you   Happy Birthday to you   Happy Birthday my Roy   Happy Birthday to you ~ "

Food always had a singular purpose to him before: to be eaten, not to be admired. Yet, with the ganache sitting before him, he put that thinking aside just to study its lovely design. Decorated beautifully, he could tell a fair amount of care went into its appearance. Berry and mint added color to the display, making it a fitting birthday dessert for a king.

Its creator, a woman whose beauty shined brighter than Aphrodite’s, and with wits sharper than Athena, certainly spoiled him rotten. Between this, and her attire, he couldn’t have asked for more. His queen sat upon her throne, and he swore the temperature in the room rose. Yes, it all came from that one single candle. Absolutely. One single candle made him hot under the collar and not his scantily clad soon-to-be wife.

He needed to propose already. Maybe that could be his wish: to find the courage to ask her. Though, he should probably acquire a ring first...

Her voice was a gift. She turned a simple melody, a song everyone knew by heart, into something soul-stirring. He was certainly biased, but he could feel every note tugging at his heart strings. The world didn’t know what it missed without her on the stage as an opera singer. But, and she might not feel the same, she spoiled him with her singing.

Would she sing another melody for him later tonight?

When she finished, he blew out the single candle, one arm carefully wrapped around her to keep her steady. What did he wish for? Oh, he might tell her later if it came true. For now, he kissed those sumptuous lips of hers---tenderly, not wanting to seem too hasty. He let her go so they could both breathe, his grin wide. Was that enough to say he loved this gift and her? Perhaps, but he should always back up his actions with some words.

“I love you.” First and foremost on his mind, and thus the words that he whispered before anything else. “Thank you---for all of this, and for spoiling me. I do want to eat what you made me since it looks divine. But...” Playfully, now open to showing a bit more of his eagerness, he leaned down to kiss her neck. In-between each kiss, he spoke. “You said my Roy. So, I think you should make me yours. You open to that?”

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@deathleads​ asked: She must comb her fingers through his long black hair, kissing the surface before shifting the strands to find his skin.  Whispers wash through the soft darkness,  affectionately spoken.    " You know, everything will be alright. Because I am with you, I will destroy this whole world before I let it hurt you again.  "

He fell apart when he came home to her. Nearly perfect posture began to tremble almost as soon as the doors closed behind him, his shaking hands struggling to unbutton his coat and uniform jacket. When it fell to the floor around his boots, he left it there to stay. It could wait until later. For now, he wanted nothing more than to hide away in a dark room and sleep before these horrid feelings swallowed him whole.

Was it truly a surprise that he neared his breaking point? Brigadier General Fox had a way of getting under his skin, and Roy almost let it show today. Almost. Dead ends, false hope, a sincere lack of sleep, nightmares, never ending paperwork---the list went on and on. Of course, he couldn’t afford to let that happen. But, here at home, in the safety of her bedroom, he was safe.

The tears didn’t come when he gracelessly collapsed on the mattress. Why would they? He had nothing left to give, and that included his tears. Numbly, he lied still and stared at the wall. Was it just him, or did the room feel cold? Perhaps the upcoming winter finally got to him when he let his guard down, settling in his bones before he could get under the covers. No matter. He’d be fine. He always was.

She found him without him needing to say a word. By now, she knew what good and bad days looked like, and particularly bad ones sometimes led to a nap as soon as he got home. He’d mutter about needless paperwork or the meeting he had to attend that lasted forever before he eventually fell asleep. Not today. His mouth couldn’t form the words stuck in his throat when he sensed her presence. All he could do was stay silent.

Until the tears came. Her touch, a soft hand in his hair, opened the dam. With no more grace than he had before, he sobbed while frantic hands clung to the fabric of her clothes. He couldn’t even say why he cried. Any reason that came to mind didn’t seem like enough. Nevertheless, despite how much he wanted to stop, he couldn’t.

Somewhere, buried under the button-down shirt and war-hardened exterior, his heart ached. Perhaps that was why he cried like this. The pain was nigh unbearable, leaving him useless in the arms of his Beloved as she kissed his skin. Silently, he pleaded apologies to her for his state and that he came to her this way, that he wasn’t the pillar of strength he always was, that she needed to comfort him. She heard his pain above all else, and her words addressed that. Nothing would harm him with her there.

She’d destroy the world before it hurt him again. And he believed her.

Qistina Leota, the Belladona, would absolutely destroy any who wronged her. The conviction in her voice, spoken softly with such gentle affection for only him to hear, told him that wronging him counted as well. His sobbing quieted to weeping as he remained in her hold. How did he become so fortunate that she cared for him this much? She did not need him to be the resilient Colonel Roy Mustang every second of every day. With all of the strength and wit she possessed, he could lean on her. He could be weak.

Well, if he could get his mind to believe that.

Again, he couldn’t open his mouth to speak. All he could do was focus on his breathing and getting his heart to slow down. As he did, though, his heart gave her one answer to her words that he hoped she’d hear.

“Thank you.”

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Anonymous asked: you continue to love the wicked soul of the Belladonna, knowing she has ruthlessly experimented on human beings, willingly and happily. you've even spoken about having children.

What would happen if one of your children with her happened to be cut from her cloth? If they were as merciless and evil? How would you feel knowing you brought another person like that into the world?

"I can’t tell you what I’d feel for a future that hasn’t come to fruition.” Sitting comfortably in his chair, he leaned back as he folded one leg over the other. “I don’t have knowledge of all the variables. How did we raise that child? When were they born? What happened in Amestris during that time period? What kind of relationship do I have with my child? What kind of relationship does Christina have with them? There’s too much I don’t know.”

He paused, knowing he avoided the question. Could they blame him, though? While it was his job to plan for every eventuality when it came to combat, he couldn’t imagine this supposed future. Could it happen? Possibly, but he knew Christina, and he knew himself. Both of them would work to provide their child with a loving environment, planning for everything they possibly could because that was how they worked.

“If our child turned out that way, the fault wouldn’t solely be on her shoulders. It’d be on mine too. You forget that I have a skewed idea of what mercy looks like, and I have just as much capacity for evil.” His arms stayed folded across his chest, fingers idly tapping against his coat. “Will I feel as though I failed? Probably, but I won’t give up on them. I didn’t give up on Christina---it’s not in my nature. No matter what that child says or does, no matter how they turn out, I will love them.”

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She... wanted to take his last name? Truly?

He did not prepare for that. At all. Excuse him while he processes this.

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@deathleads​ asked: Q + R please <3

SFW Alphabet Ask Meme | Currently accepting.

Q = Quizzes (How much would they remember about their partner? Do they remember every little detail they mention in passing, or do they kind of forget everything?)

Roy remembers a lot of details. Part of that is because he writes things down so he doesn’t forget. He doesn’t trust his memory to be infallible, and, when it comes to his partner, he wants to remember as much as he can. It makes for great surprises for birthdays, anniversaries, or just a “Hey, I was thinking about you” sort of gift.

R = Remember (What is their favorite moment in their relationship?)

Neither of us can pick just one.

One of his favorite moments so far is when he professed his love to Christina. Yes, it was messy with tears involved, and the location wasn’t ideal in his eyes, but it was a defining moment for him. He decided right then and there that even in her darkest hours, he loved her like a fire needs oxygen to breathe. Even if she didn’t reciprocate those feelings, he felt safe telling her, and it wouldn’t have changed that desire to be there for her.

Another moment that’s essentially tied with that is when he looked at her for the first time after she restored his eyesight. That was huge. It allowed him to see her in a completely different light than he expected: not just an alchemist, not just someone he found attractive, but as someone completely and utterly brilliant. There is no other word that fits how he thinks of her. She is brilliant to him, and, because of her brilliance, he could see his future that he wanted her to be a part of. With restored eyesight, it felt like seeing all of her for the first time.

If any moment was his “Oh” moment, it was that one. Hands down.

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Anonymous asked: hearteyes

Hearteyes | Currently accepting.

"Amazing. Whenever I think of her, that’s the first word that comes to my mind.” An emotion he could only describe as giddiness welled up in his chest, causing him to smile as he looked off into the distance. This was what it felt like to be in love, he supposed: blissfully content while the image of his Beloved came to mind. He wasn’t a poet who could write her a sonnet, nor was he a musician who could compose the most lovely ballads for her ears only. That wasn’t his specialty.

No, he was an alchemist. He’d use those flames to keep her warm during those harsh winters, light candles so she could read at night, melt sand into the finest glassware for her to drink from---anything and everything. For her, his fire could be put to good use.

He was absolutely smitten, and he knew it.

“Whenever I wake up before her, all I can think is how fortunate I am. She’s smart, beautiful, wildly talented, passionate... and she chose me. Out of everyone else in the world, she chose me.” A sigh, light and airy, left his lips. “She makes me a better person, honestly. I don’t mean that just in the emotional sense either. She’s the reason I can see again, can still keep going. And I probably spend too much time in the morning just admiring her.”

Could anyone blame him? She, the moon who the night sky borrowed its beauty from, was incredible.

“She gave me my life back, and I want to spend the rest of it at her side.”

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@deathleads​​​​​ asked: 🖤- For something they secretly wish they could do with your muse

Spilling Secrets | Currently accepting.

"Don’t laugh.” Roy didn’t meet Christina’s gaze. He knew as soon as he said it that she just might laugh anyway. Once she heard this supposed secret, he’d be surprised if she didn’t at least snicker. It was hardly a secret most would consider to be embarrassing or something to worry about. No, secrets like that were best kept in one of his heavily coded journals.

“... I want to walk down the street holding your hand,” he murmured, “Without caring who sees. Hell, I want to show you off to the entire world, have everyone see just how amazing you are and how much I love you. I wish we didn’t have to be our perfect selves for Amestris to see, gawk at, and judge. This’ll sound stupid, but I... I want to be that lovesick guy who dotes on you whenever he gets the chance. Now I understand why Maes did it with Gracia and Elicia, I guess.”

In the safety of their bedroom, Roy succumbed to his fate of being his Beloved’s pillow a while ago. From her spot, she could undoubtedly hear how a strong heart beat with trepidation. Perhaps she noticed how his cheeks flushed with embarrassment as well. The secret itself wasn’t cause for it, no, but the nature of it was. It was so simple, something most couples probably didn’t think about. Yet, here he was, overthinking every move he made and word he said.

“There’s probably more, but that’s the one that came to mind first. Go ahead and tell me I’m silly for it.”