igni ferroque

[Indie semi-selective Gueira from Promare] • Mun • Muse • Rules •

[with-fire-and-iron]

@flamesided

❝ don’t worry, you’ll get over me. ❞ (from Meis. Hitting hard!)

“... really?! Is that what you really think...?”

Gueira never felt anything moderately. Either the flint would fail to spark or he would burn until he had consumed the emotional kindling he could provide and lapped up the ashes left behind. Whatever outcome Meis might have imagined by having the audacity to think such a thing, let alone to look at Gueira and say it, he was sure to receive a show.

His breathing was uneven, his entire body tense. His fingers flexed until they formed fists at his sides, looking for a target to transfer his overflowing emotions to. Unsure of whether to scream or cry, he did both. 

“Like hell I will! Stop talking like that!”

Gueira spat his response with verbal venom attached, slamming his fist into the nearest wall.

“I’ve almost died for you, Meis. Hell, I would die for you! So don’t you dare talk to me like there’s a way I could just ‘get over you’.”

His voice cracked under the strain. “Do you even hear yourself...?”

[with-fire-and-iron]

@flamesided

It was a statement said flippantly, a cold assurance that Meis hoped would dampen his own embers that had already begun to flicker. It was going to be easy, he’d thought; he would say something--whatever he thought of first--and that would be it. Quick and simple. If he were to stumble over even a single word or look at Gueira for too long he’d be stuck.

And he was stuck. Gueira’s words shot out like needles and the punch to the wall made him flinch. Damn it, damn it. The plan, though it was a threadbare one at best, was shot. A man of few words he just absorbed Gueira’s anger and let it build and boil up inside until he felt his ears heat up. From everywhere inside him he could hear a voice fighting and chiding him and it could only be his own. The Promare were gone, the only thing that held the pair together and now they were left with...

Nothing? No, not nothing. The hell, Meis. What the hell were you thinking? Do you think he’d be that upset if you meant nothing to him? Fuckin’ get your act together.

“No, it’s not,” he said with the same effect as before, dry and desperately trying to keep at bay what had been building up, although it was apparent that it wanted an escape. “But the thing is I don’t want you to die for me! We almost died together because of that guy!” Slowly it started to break free and the once cool demeanor changed drastically. Hands gestured strongly to make his point but it was overshadowed by the growing redness in his eyes. “We might not be Burnish anymore but that doesn’t mean there isn’t someone else out there who still hates us. If we would just go separate ways then we wouldn’t have to worry.” He dragged his hands through his hair with a sharp breath and rubbed his neck. He wasn’t convincing himself, let alone Gueira. There would be no end to the worry if they went their separate ways; Meis knew he would end up an absolute wreck.

His voice, now hoarse, sounded like it was about to abandon him, “I wouldn’t have to worry about seeing you get killed. I want you alive, Gueira, do you hear that?”

His lips twisted into a humourless grin and a broken laugh escaped from chapped lips. “Loud and clear. Tell me how you really feel next time, why don’t you?”

Gueira’s voice cracked before his will.

“I didn’t know you were that selfish...” Before he continued he shook his head clear of any unnecessary thoughts or insults or any other petty thing he felt like hurling towards Meis for being so damn stupid.

“You ever stop to think that I wouldn’t be alive without you?! Without you, without the boss—“ He catches himself on the title, still unsure of whether it’s appropriate to call Lio by name now that they were no longer connected in any form of power based hierarchy. “... I don’t know where I’d be.”

He nursed his hand sombrely, knuckles split from the impact. One by one he flexed his fingers, desperate to focus on anything other than the pitiful face that Meis was displaying right now. He couldn’t bear to pay witness to the man who usually anchored him trying so desperately to push him adrift.

“You can’t read between the lines, can you? Just open your damn eyes already!”

He gathered the courage to look up at Meis again, tears hot and angry carving paths down his face as he locked eyes with his partner.

“That Foresight bastard... even Freeze Force... hell, the time that damn building caved on me and you had to drive my sorry ass out of there... what was all that then? You’ve even protected me from myself... where do you think I’d be if I was alone?!”

Gueira was shaking now. What words would it take to convince Meis that he needed him?

“You’re not the cause of my problems, Meis. So don’t act like you are. Who cares if the world wants us dead? When has that ever stopped us?!”

He took a deep breath. Held it. Then exhaled. It may not have snuffed out the anger, but it stalled him long enough to say what was on his mind.

“If you don’t want to see me die, go first, but know I’m gonna be right behind ya.”

[with-fire-and-iron]

@flamesided

❝ don’t worry, you’ll get over me. ❞ (from Meis. Hitting hard!)

“... really?! Is that what you really think...?”

Gueira never felt anything moderately. Either the flint would fail to spark or he would burn until he had consumed the emotional kindling he could provide and lapped up the ashes left behind. Whatever outcome Meis might have imagined by having the audacity to think such a thing, let alone to look at Gueira and say it, he was sure to receive a show.

His breathing was uneven, his entire body tense. His fingers flexed until they formed fists at his sides, looking for a target to transfer his overflowing emotions to. Unsure of whether to scream or cry, he did both. 

“Like hell I will! Stop talking like that!”

Gueira spat his response with verbal venom attached, slamming his fist into the nearest wall.

“I’ve almost died for you, Meis. Hell, I would die for you! So don’t you dare talk to me like there’s a way I could just ‘get over you’.”

His voice cracked under the strain. “Do you even hear yourself...?”

[rpmemeheaven]

don bluth animation starters! (part one.)

❝ when you’re right, you’re right. and you’re right. ❞

❝ i know you don’t like visitors, but this is an emergency. ❞

❝ follow me – but don’t touch anything. understand? ❞

❝ i’ve learned this much: take what you can, when you can. ❞

❝ that was no accident! ❞

❝ i’m tired of bed. i want to get up. ❞

❝ don’t you sweet-talk me! ❞

❝ come inside or go away. ❞

❝ what you see in here, you must swear absolute secrecy. ❞

❝ i lost my family, too. ❞

❝ hey, come on! who are you gonna believe. me, or your own eyes? ❞

❝ we’ll be alright. as long as we’re together, we’ll be alright. ❞

❝ for the hundredth time, we’re playing poker. ❞

❝ i want to get out of here. ❞

❝ some things you see with your eyes, some things you see with your heart. ❞

❝ please get up. yes you can, get up! ❞

❝ how do i know if you are going to be with me? ❞

❝ i’ll be with you. even if you can’t see me. ❞

❝ you might always miss her. but she’ll always be with you. ❞

❝ i can take care of myself. ❞

❝ my stomach is talking. ❞

❝ don’t ever wish to be anything but what you are. ❞

❝ don’t worry, you’ll get over me. ❞

❝ have you forgotten what it’s like to be 16? ❞ 

[with-fire-and-iron]

@just-aina Continued from here

-----------------------------------------------

Gueira braces himself with barred teeth and buckled shoulders for the incoming attack, but was surprised to find that it never came. His expression dropped from an offensive grin and molded into one that better fit his confusion. It stayed like this for a while as he quietly observed her, staring at her as if the Promare would return to him and burn a hole in her if he so desired.

But instead of fire and ire, he was met with laughter.

His eyebrows raised from where they had seemingly been firmly affixed to angle downwards, his inquisitiveness beginning to show itself with a start.

Once she began to talk he settled down, feeling an involuntary tug at the corner of his lips as they raised into a grin.

“Oi, that’s fair.” He said shrugging lackadaisically. “You did what you had to do to protect your people. Even though it was a major pain in my ass, I can respect that.” He shrugged nonchalantly, as if this were a conversation about a trivial difference of opinion, rather than a conversation between a former terrorist and a firefighter. His grin returned to him as his body craned forward, hands placed on his hips. “But what makes you think I’m bullheaded?!”

His defensiveness surely spoke for itself, but Gueira, proving her point for her, failed to acknowledge this. Gueira was willing to bend, but in recent times that side of him had only shown itself when Lio demanded, or if Meis was particularly lucky.

He leaned back, folding him arms over his chest. A huff of a laugh escaped him before he continued.

“Looks like I had you pegged wrong, Ms. Firefighter. You’ve got some spunk in you after all!”

[with-fire-and-iron]

@just-aina

“Aina. Just… just Aina,” she corrected, as if that was the most important part of what he said. Still, it was the little things sometimes. Things she had to say, even if it didn’t really matter… that much. Aheh. Yet, far from dwelling on it, her voice was hushed and light, shrugging into a much wider gesture. Oh boy, story time. Sort of. A very concise story, but perhaps telling? Mm…

“–and it’s nothing, really. Just some of my friends–not naming names. They know who they are–won’t let me live down a crush I had when I was fourteen.” As if somehow she hadn’t changed at all since then! Aina had a few ideas why they were like this. So stupidly insistent about this one little thing. Well, for one… Aina kept reacting to it. That was probably a big one, huh? It didn’t help that Aina had no such luck falling for anyone since then.

“You share an aesthetic. It’s really stupid.” She shook her head, not to be defeated just yet. “Honestly, I think they just like antagonizing me. So, if I make fun of me… I’m hoping it’ll ruin their fun.”

It’s been ten years. Her name isn’t Sandy.

“M’bad. Aina it is.” He agreed, deciding that sticking to her preferred name was a smart move if he wanted this to keep progressing as it had been. 

“Whether it’s the crush or the aesthetic that you think’s stupid, I’d personally argue that you’ve got some good taste. Good attitude, too. Who gives a damn what others think? Do your thing. It’s got you this far.”

[with-fire-and-iron]

@kakuseitoinferno

Continued from here

------------------------------

“And that’s why you can’t even stand straight. C’mon, boss. How stupid do you think I am?”

Maybe don’t answer that.

“You sure you’re okay? Because we can leave with your dignity intact and I’ll help you or I can scoop you off the ground when you pass out on me.”

Gueira fell into place at Lio’s side, his hand spreading across Lio’s back in a gesture of physical and emotional support. He gave a gentle push to usher them along, agreeing with Lio’s suggestion to leave.

“You’ve gotta stop doing this. You’re the toughest guy I know, but goddamnit you’re one man and you’ve gotta take care of yourself too.”

[with-fire-and-iron]

Another Update

Hi everyone. Long time no see! I hope you’re all doing well. I’m sorry again for my extended absence, but I wanted to drop by and give an explanation now that I’m in a better state of mind.

TW for death under the read more

Thank you to anybody who’s reading this at this point. I know I’ve had a lot of unexplained disappearances over the last couple of months and I’d like to apologize. After a long battle a family member who is very dear to me passed away and things have been in an uproar since then. I’m slowly coming back around and I want to reconnect with you all because I love this community and each of the people I’ve met through it. If you’re still interested in continuing our threads and interactions or you’d like to start over, please give this a like or send me a message. I’d love to know how you’re all doing. Thank you for your patience and Gueira and I will be seeing you soon. 💕

[gallantambitions]

| ”You look like an individual with taste. What’s the stupidest thing you’ve ever done?” @with-fire-and-iron​

[with-fire-and-iron]

@gallantambitions 

Okay, so Gueira didn’t trust him. That’s absolutely fair, seeing as how they’re still trying to tread the water of their newfound friendship(?). “Lio doesn’t even know I’m here.” Galo sits up a little straighter with a huff. “Can’t a guy go around and at least try to make nice? Besides, you seem like you’d be pretty cool to hang with.” If he sticks to Lio like glue then he must be up to Lio’s standard. If Lio can trust him then Galo probably can too.

“Eye for an eye then? Do you want the story of the time I got stuck in a tree on a rescue or the time I challenged Varys to an eating contest? Take your pick.”

Options, huh? This could be interesting after all.

“I’ll take the tree story,” Gueira decided after a moment of deliberation. Challenging Varys to an eating contest was an impressive feat for sure - he wondered which of the men was victorious - but he felt like there was gonna be either a really good or really dumb story behind the first option and he was eager to find out. 

[with-fire-and-iron]

@flamesided 

Meis, wrapped in an oversized blanket that appeared to bend his slim frame, came up behind Gueira and settled a chin upon his shoulder. "Hey," he murmured in the redhead's ear, a soft and endearing voice no one else was privy to. Taking the blanket he coiled it around them both and rubbed his nose against Gueira's cheek before pressing a kiss to it.

“Yo,” he returned with a smitten smile, practically melting into Meis’ touch. Like magnets to metal, Gueira’s arms pushed behind him, finding Meis’ and pulling them around his waist. His breath on Gueira’s ear sent a shiver through him, which Meis smothered by wrapping the blanket around them.

To experience Meis in this environment was something he coveted. Though it was tempting to want to preserve it in image and show it off to the rest of the world, Gueira was greedy. A side of Meis that was exclusive to a select few was too sacred to wave around.

The energetic redhead busied his hands with Meis’ as he attempted to turn his head to catch a glimpse. Instead he was met with lips to against his cheek. He flushed for the moment, ever the love struck fool despite their time spent together. He quickly turned, chasing Meis’ lips and giving him a cheeky peck.

“What’s gotten into you?”

[with-fire-and-iron]

@flamesided

“Have you looked outside yet?” he asked, a corner of his mouth twitching from the quick brush of lips. Despite the question he kept Gueira flush up against him so there was nothing he could look at except himself. “It’s miserable out there.” Which meant that Meis was miserably antsy, playing with Gueira’s fingers and rubbing his own against his palms. If it had been a storm his attention would have been mostly held, but now it seemed as if that electricity had all been transferred into his body and was looking for a way out.

He caught a glimpse of the blush of red and was too late in restraining a laugh, burying his face into Gueira’s hair. Meis felt like he was back in school with that show of awkwardness and he laughed again before clutching Gueira around the waist. Shimmying his shoulders to keep the blanket from falling off he knew the day’s productivity was already lost but really, was it even there to start with?

Gueira took Meis’ fingers in his and laced them together, giving his partner something to do with his fidgeting digits. He swayed on his heels as Meis made himself a part of Gueira’s silhouette; their shadows on the floor melded together until it was impossible to tell where Gueira ended and Meis began. 

Gueira’s arms fell into place as he mimicked his partner’s actions, his hands now resting on the small of Meis’ back. His index separated from the group, chasing the hem of Meis’ shirt where it rose to reveal pale skin. He ghosted over the exposed flesh, moving his hands down and tucking his thumbs into Meis’ waistband. 

“No need to make it miserable in here, too.” Gueira concluded. “What’s the harm in a little rainy day fun?”

[with-fire-and-iron]

Get to Know Me

ONE / ( ALIAS / NAME ): Ladd

TWO / ( DATE OF BIRTH ): June 8th

THREE / ( ZODIAC SIGN ): all I really know is Gemini;;

FOUR / ( HEIGHT ): 5′11″

FIVE / ( HOBBIES ): Writing, video games, cosplaying, drawing

SIX / ( FAVORITE COLOR ): Red

SEVEN / ( FAVORITE BOOKS ): Choosing favourites is impossible for me, but the entire Percy Jackson/Heroes of Olympus series will always have a special place in my heart

EIGHT / ( LAST SONG LISTENED TO ): Hard Times by Paramore

NINE / ( LAST FILM OR SHOW WATCHED ): Promare (shocker)

TEN / ( STORY BEHIND URL ): "igni ferroque” has always been such a powerful motto to me and I thought it suited Gueira, so I used the english translation

ELEVEN / ( INSPIRATION FOR MUSE ): When I first watched Promare I fell in love with the series and knew I wanted to be a part of it. After checking out a few existing blogs I gathered up the courage and joined. Now Gueira grows with me (huge shout out to @flamesided for helping make my Gueira who he is <3)

Stolen from: @flamesided

Tagging: @gallantambitions and anybody else who’d like to! (I’m not sure who has already done it or who is comfortable being tagged so)

[with-fire-and-iron]

A Formal Apology

Hey everyone! How’s it going?

It’s been a while since I’ve logged in and I’d like to apologize to all of the lovely people I’ve left in the dark. A lot has been going on recently and I’ve been having a difficult time dealing with my own health, as well as taking care of unexpected illness in my family. 

But! I’ve arranged to have more time for myself and that means I’ll be coming back to you guys! So feel free to send me a message or remind me of what you’re missing from me. Hopefully I’ll be able to get back on schedule.

[conflagrationsstyle]

with-fire-and-iron·:

When she released her grip and lifted his arm with less lethal force than before, Gueira shut up and let Utavel do her job. It was his own damn fault for getting himself hurt, she was making it easier on him.

The least he could do was bite his tongue until it was all over. Is what he’d like to say. But it was never in Gueira’s character to back down, especially with his pride on the line, and Utavel seemed to know just the right way to provoke him.

When she let go Gueira examined her work, flexing his arm to rest the strength of the gauze and patted it down lightly. “Good as new!” he decided. He was about ready to put his irritation aside, thank her, and be on his way, when she threw in her last remark.

And suddenly Gueira could think of a few reasons to stick around.

Instead of walking out as she turned her back to him, Gueira perched himself up on the nearest place to sit and crossed his arms over his chest.

“What’s your deal, huh?”

It was a vague enough question, but for as much bite as it contained, Gueira was genuinely curious as to what it was that made Utavel tick. Was it him? Was it something else entirely? Was it personal? Or did she just have it out for the world? In the world Gueira had come to know, he wouldn’t blame her if she did.

It may not have been the time, or the place, but if not now… when? He decided for himself that now was a better time than ever.

⇘ ✸ ⇙ — ♍

   "Whatever my deal is, it is irrelevant, if you believe you're good as new. You are not, and you need to give yourself a proper shift of sleep. Eight hours,“ she is immediately on the offensive, sliding past any questions of her own character and turning it back on him. "I need you to at least tell me you got that, first. You - nor I, for that matter - are any good to people broken and tired. Give it a rest, sleep, eat something, and then by tomorrow, your flames should have restored the wound.” Perhaps he’d never given it much thought, how his recovery worked. Perhaps he didn't care to find out, not that she could entirely blame him for that, either.       They’re all just surviving, after all.

   "And to answer your question, I’ll ask you be more specific. I have a lot of “deals” in my life, in my work.“ Not that she was particularly secretive about it among the Mad Burnish Top Brass, but she didn’t flaunt her ties to organizations much larger than theirs, nor flaunt her criminal contacts. It would do her little in the standing of others to crow such things from the rooftops.       "Is it my attitude you have a problem with?” That was usually the first thing people noticed. “Common complaint,” her tone dismissive. “I find it easier to keep people at arm’s length," or further, "when they don’t care to know me better.” It was a defense mechanism, simple. “I’ve shucked off the need for people." LIAR.

   "If it’s how I treat you, you’re not special. Not singled out. It is my job to poke holes in all of your arguments and battle plans, because that is what Freeze Force is doing. It is important you have answers to my questions when I propose them, because in the dire situation we’re all in, we need to be thinking five steps ahead, if not more." Pragmatism, in the face of losing everything else! Compassion, empathy, endurance, all of them withering behind closed walls.       "If my way of thinking bothers you, that’s a shame, but it’s kept me alive. And it’s keeping the rest of the Burnish here alive. I can’t afford to care," not anymore, "but I will see this job done. I agreed after you three overwhelmed me in my bunker, and I presume that I’ll simply leave when this… sees itself to an end of some kind. A proper end; you can be sure I won’t leave until a job is well completed, if that gives you some comfort.”

   She angles her head back at him, predatory and deliberate, to gauge his reaction to her words. Utavel is well aware of her cruelty and it’s needlessness. These are refugees, these are people she should be trusting… but she does not know them. Not as much as she’d like to. Not as much as she needs to in order for her walls to open, for the door to be revealed.       Blue eyes glint in the dim lighting, and with the slow close and open of her eyes, her hands resume their busy work, sorting, counting, measuring what materials they have and mentally jotting them down while a response articulates itself from Gueira on the stack of boxes behind her.

[with-fire-and-iron]

Unconsciously Gueira’s hands raised in defense once Utavel began her spiel. It would be easy to lose one’s train of thoughts amongst her tactically spewed venom and persuasive arguments — admittedly, he had for a moment — but Gueira clung to her words and let them seep through him like the caustic poison Utavel presented them as.

He heeded her advice, as pointed as it was, for the information it contained rather than the tone it was packaged in. She was right about his injuries. As much as he preferred to play the tough guy and dismiss his problems as trivial, by doing this he was not only making a fool of himself, but belittling the others trying to help him.

Of course, as Gueira became increasingly riled up by her commentary, he made no effort to acknowledge this in the conversation to follow.

Was conversation even the right word? Gueira felt more like he was being talked at than talked to.

This irritated him to no end. Suddenly he wasn’t the powerful man he had moulded himself into, but the sheltered child being scolded by a vigilant mother hen for pushing his set boundaries.

His blood was boiling.

Gueira wanted to play nice, really, he did. He stared at her back in silence once she finished her disquisition, but as an animal succumbs to its lust for blood, once he bit through the inside of his lip and tasted iron he stopped holding back his thoughts.

“Listen. I know that we’re all just trying to get by here and we’ve all got shitty ways of coping with whatever shitstorm we got caught up in but that does not make you special, either.” He began his rant, spitting back familiar phrases she had used against him. “You’re right. Your attitude does suck. You’ve got a point that it’s ~part of your job~ or whatever, but it doesn’t mean that you need to have a stick up your ass all the time. I know you’ve got this whole thing where you’re trying to protect others, protect yourself, or whatever else you might be up to, but you’re not gonna do that by shutting yourself off. If you’re not gonna trust us, who can you?”

Gueira’s fists closed into tight fists that left his knuckles white as his face reddened from exertion.

“You say that people don’t care to know you better, but how can they? Real question here! I’ve been trying!”

Frustration with his inability to find the right words won him over as he kicked a box in the pile he was sitting on with his heel. He tried to ground himself, find something meaningful to say. He found himself wishing he was as persuasive as Lio or as levelheaded as Meis, but was stuck knowing that he would rather swallow his blood than his pride.

“The world might be out to get ya, but I’m not.” Finally, Gueira pulled in his horns and took a deep breath. After exhaling in one great huff, his voice returned to him softer, but still tense. “Okay?”

[just-aina]

with-fire-and-iron‌:

“Man, don’t remind me,” he said solemnly, finding himself missing the power and protection the Promare had once gifted him with. “But now that you’ve met us up close and personal, what do you think? I’m a lot more handsome beneath the mask, huh?” he said playfully, putting his chin at the junction of his thumb and forefinger and offering the most ‘dashing’ smile he could muster.

He was surprised to find that Aina was rather easy to talk to, considering the finesse and fierce determination she possessed while the two were on opposite sides.

Was it fair to say were? 

Sure, the two were no longer fundamentally opposed, but did that erase years of torment directly caused by Gueira and his fellow Burnish? He provided her with job insurance, if nothing else, but he chose to keep that thought to himself. 

But he figured it was alright to say were. 

They may not have been on the same track quite yet, but Gueira figured that he and the others were at least running parallel to Burning Rescue. Their paths may not have completely converged, but they were heading towards the same destination.

“Oh, sorry.” A quick apology. Right, probably a sore spot. She had to be more mindful, because even if she could never truly appreciate the kind of loss it was… Aina understood loss as a whole. Yet, her lapse into retrospect was cut short, and suppose that wasn’t a terrible thing. No dwelling. No awful guilt to spill into what was meant to be a casual, if not incredibly awkward conversation. That was to say, Aina felt the awkward portion of it in new and surprising ways.

She covered her mouth, fingers pressed firmly against her lips as she tried, failed, wasn’t sure how to respond. She had to, though, right? And soon. Aina knew–she knew he wasn’t being completely serious, and yet there she stood, contemplating her answer like it was. Tugging her hand away, she gestured, palm facing upward and supported by her other hand at the elbow. “Well, I’ll admit you’re pretty cute, but I’m not sure I’m the right person to ask. I’ve been told I’m biased.”

Take that as he would. Her words were honest, but spoken with about the same level of seriousness as his were. Should she have said it? Maybe not. It left her wide open for so many questions, but it was too late now. Then again, she was used to being given a hard time about things like this and everything related to it. She’d handle it.

[with-fire-and-iron]

“You’re fine,” Gueira assured her with a dismissive wave. “I ain’t about holding grudges.” Only partially true, but at least not over something so petty.

He continued with their banter, not really expecting a response until she informed him that she did, in fact, think he was, as she so eloquently put it, ‘pretty cute’.

Did that stroke his ego a bit? Perhaps. Perhaps more than a bit. Whether in jest or as a sworn oath, a compliment was a compliment, and he was proud to take it.

“You’re quite the looker yourself. From someone like you I’ll take that in high regard, Ms. Ardebit~” Still smirking, he quirked an eyebrow. “Though I gotta say, I’m curious about these ‘biases’ of yours.”

[with-fire-and-iron]

@flamesided

It was nearing two in the morning but Meis had lost track of the night shortly after being stirred awake, a recurring dream that left goosebumps lingering upon his skin for longer than he was comfortable with. He’d taken up a post to the side of their bedroom window like a sentry still clinging to a duty-bound past. Leaning his shoulder up against the wall he stared out onto the dark and relatively quiet road as the streetlamps bathed it in their soft yellow light, eyes unblinking as if he was utterly petrified.

The sound of Gueira’s voice echoed faintly behind him before it reached him fully and sent a small but noticeable shiver through his body. Rubbing his arms he shifted his weight to his other side and turned only halfway, merely glancing over his shoulder at his partner. He didn’t realize his eyes had started to tear until he felt the thin liquid line reach his jaw and by then it was no use to wipe it away. Why did some things still feel so numb?

“I...couldn’t sleep.” Stuck in that half-turn Meis wanted to both look back towards the night and towards the one who kept him sheltered from it, as much as was possible. It was the ghosts’ fault and their screams that sounded like violent white noise, like thousands of windows shattering at once. What would it take to be rid of it? If only he knew and that not knowing was what kept him stranded halfway. Sometimes Gueira won the draw and sometimes, no matter what calming words or touches were given, the darkness won and he retreated back into himself until morning.

But it was getting better. It had to be. This time he drifted back to safety, back into warmth that was not to be taken for granted. The ghosts hadn’t claimed him yet and he hoped they never would.

Meis’ removing himself from the bed hadn’t stirred Gueira right away. However, when the sleeping man rolled over and found empty sheets in place of his lover he was quick to awaken.

When Gueira’s hands brushed over the sheets and found them lacking warmth, he groped for the bedside lamp, flicking it on. Though it was dull and provided him with little light to savour, it aided him enough to spot a familiar figure standing at their window like a reticent sentinel.

He sat up, throwing the sheets back, and removed himself from the bed. Normally, Gueira was a slow waker, often wasting time rubbing his eyes and groaning about how he wished to sleep just a little longer, but he made no such effort to stay asleep this time. Though his body betrayed him by yawning the whole walk across the room, he became alert the moment his eyes adjusted enough to focus on Meis face.

He had been crying.

The alarm on Gueira’s face was temporary and quickly faded and gave way to the sweetest kind of sadness in order to keep from provoking Meis’ distress. Gueira wore knitted brows and a somber smile as he approached Meis, sliding a hand onto his back. His free hand reached up to wipe away the tears with the pads of his thumb while the other guided Meis into his arms, stroking his hair as he met Gueira’s chest.

Though he wouldn’t claim to know Meis’ personal terrors, he knew the feeling of being left in their wake. For Gueira each day had become easier to deal with. To sleep with his guilt and his fears as comfortably as a lover was part of his nightly routine. Perhaps had less to do with strength and more with the fact that most days he was too exhausted to dream.

“You should’ve woke me,” Gueira told him. He wasn’t scolding, but he was firm with his words. Tired as he may have been, what little comfort he could offer, he would. Even if all he could offer was a silent companion, Gueira figured that it was better than being alone with whatever monsters Meis had created.

Moderation was not something Gueira was skilled with. He knew how to give and take, but to limit was a skill he possessed in minuscule amounts. Nevertheless, he found it in himself to be gentle with his touches, sparing in his words. He waited for cues from Meis before ever advancing, knowing from experience how easy it was to lose oneself to their fears.

Whether it was affection, or company, or for him to go the hell away, Gueira was prepared to do what Meis needed. He was following the rhythm the two of them had set; providing for Meis as they had done for each other time and time again.

[with-fire-and-iron]

@flamesided

“Nno,” he said unconvincingly, “course not.” Propping his head up with a fist Meis leaned it into the steady motion of Gueira’s fingers and gave a yawn. Maybe it was a cliche–how he disliked them sometimes–but there was an innate sense of belonging. No matter how either of them warped or bent they found a way to fit together instead of trying to morph back into their previous shapes.

The circular motion brought him to the verge of falling back asleep, eyes slowly closing before opening quickly again. With a shake of his head he perked up and pulled Gueira’s hand from his hair and held it, softly, by the wrist. He wasn’t going down that easy.

Thumb made a gentle pass against his palm, drifting over small callouses and dry spots. Had it not been for the Promare’s properties there would no doubt be scars settled into the skin as well. However those days were now over and before long their day to day would wear into them and remain as permanent markers of the next phase of their lives. But it would mean that they’d have new parts of each other, visible and hidden, to learn and memorize.

With a single push Meis rolled on top of Gueira, keeping himself propped up on his elbows while both his hands closed the gaps between the other’s fingers. The morning was making itself more and more present with a line of sunlight making a sharp diagonal cut across Gueira’s upper body, its very point an illuminated fleck in the maroon of his eye. His eyes were always bright with one thought or another but in those couple of seconds between inhale and exhale he was able to really notice.

“I hope I’m not bothering you,” he quipped, swiping the ends of his hair across Gueira’s collarbone in one languid motion, “’cause you seem pretty comfortable.” There was no need to yield to the sun’s nudging just yet and with a sigh that was a mix of contentment and amusement Meis fully lowered himself down atop his partner, effectively pinning him in place. Nuzzling his face deep into the curve of Gueira’s neck, pressing both barely-there and more drawn-out kisses to the skin, he relaxed.

“Never,” Gueira responded, perhaps a bit too quickly. Though he was hesitant to remove his eyes from the beautiful man on top of him, he closed them, reveling in the lavishing of affection he was receiving. Ghostlike touches and open-mouthed kisses melded together in a chain of pleasure and Gueira lapped up every moment of it greedily. 

With Meis’ weight on top of him, there wasn’t much else he could do besides squirm, but he had no plans of leaving Meis’ embrace in the foreseeable future. With what limited movement he had, he twisted their legs together, pulling his around the others’ to squeeze them gently. 

He opened his eyes again, now looking down at the top of a blue crown buried into the junction of his shoulder and neck. He kissed the top of Meis’ head, overcome by affection, and wiggled an arm free to loop around him and settle itself on his back. Gueira’s fingers busied themselves with the ends of Meis’ hair, twisting gentle curls into them and combing through the silky strands. 

How Meis ever kept such long hair so immaculate, Gueira could never fathom. Gueira could barely keep his tame straight out of the shower (perhaps that was why he had almost given up). 

Just another one of his many talents, Gueira begrudgingly admitted to himself.

[conflagrationsstyle]

Continued from { X }

⇘ ✸ ⇙ — ♍

   "If you just let me have your fuckin’ arm, I wouldn’t have to hold you in place so tightly,“ her teeth are grit as she finally just drops both hands away, throwing them up in exasperation past her shoulders. "If the sting is so terrible, then wad your sleeve up and bite. The sooner you let me finish the sooner it’ll be to healing.” Sure, she's scolding him, but it deserves scolding if he wants to act so childishly.

   But she takes his arm again, with less of a vicegrip, and proceeds to rub more of the antiseptic solution into his arm. It isn’t the most powerful stuff, but it’ll get the job done and leave room for his own regeneration to take effect once he’s rested more. “There, done,” and with a firm bandage around the wound, Utavel removes herself from Gueira entirely. “Go on then, General.” The title is spoken with irritation still, and she turns her back, beginning to prepare cleaned, new tools at her workbench for the next injured to walk in when that may be.       “Unless you’ve questions, or a particular reason to stay.” Not that she’s really given him one since joining the cabal of Burnish trying to scrape a survival in the Southwestern United States. // @with-fire-and-iron​

[with-fire-and-iron]

When she released her grip and lifted his arm with less lethal force than before, Gueira shut up and let Utavel do her job. It was his own damn fault for getting himself hurt, she was making it easier on him.

The least he could do was bite his tongue until it was all over. Is what he’d like to say. But it was never in Gueira’s character to back down, especially with his pride on the line, and Utavel seemed to know just the right way to provoke him.

When she let go Gueira examined her work, flexing his arm to rest the strength of the gauze and patted it down lightly. “Good as new!” he decided. He was about ready to put his irritation aside, thank her, and be on his way, when she threw in her last remark.

And suddenly Gueira could think of a few reasons to stick around.

Instead of walking out as she turned her back to him, Gueira perched himself up on the nearest place to sit and crossed his arms over his chest.

“What’s your deal, huh?”

It was a vague enough question, but for as much bite as it contained, Gueira was genuinely curious as to what it was that made Utavel tick. Was it him? Was it something else entirely? Was it personal? Or did she just have it out for the world? In the world Gueira had come to know, he wouldn’t blame her if she did.

It may not have been the time, or the place, but if not now... when? He decided for himself that now was a better time than ever.

[with-fire-and-iron]

@flamesided 

Meis, wrapped in an oversized blanket that appeared to bend his slim frame, came up behind Gueira and settled a chin upon his shoulder. "Hey," he murmured in the redhead's ear, a soft and endearing voice no one else was privy to. Taking the blanket he coiled it around them both and rubbed his nose against Gueira's cheek before pressing a kiss to it.

“Yo,” he returned with a smitten smile, practically melting into Meis’ touch. Like magnets to metal, Gueira’s arms pushed behind him, finding Meis’ and pulling them around his waist. His breath on Gueira’s ear sent a shiver through him, which Meis smothered by wrapping the blanket around them.

To experience Meis in this environment was something he coveted. Though it was tempting to want to preserve it in image and show it off to the rest of the world, Gueira was greedy. A side of Meis that was exclusive to a select few was too sacred to wave around.

The energetic redhead busied his hands with Meis’ as he attempted to turn his head to catch a glimpse. Instead he was met with lips to against his cheek. He flushed for the moment, ever the love struck fool despite their time spent together. He quickly turned, chasing Meis’ lips and giving him a cheeky peck.

“What’s gotten into you?”

[with-fire-and-iron]

((So I was watching Lio-hen this morning and I noticed that in the place where the Burnish are taking refuge there’s a Burning Rescue jacket hung up. Department 10 by the looks of it. I’m half tempted to make an OC of the former firefighter who owned this jacket. What do you guys think?))