#santa said it's not our job to change people they change themselves. it's just our job to show em that we believe in them !!!

[lvebug]

why is the "santa gets kidnapped" movie kinda giving andie eliot?

[markdyerhere]

On Tech Support

On May 5, 2023 I got a call that changed my life.

I had just accepted a job offer to work for the Browser Company of New York!

I walked up the stairs to our apartment with great news and my wife told me to sit down. My Mum had called. My Dad had to be rushed to the hospital. He was bleeding internally and it looked like he was suffering renal failure. We flew out to be with him and my Mum. He passed away 9 days later.

My Dad is one of the reasons I’m good with computers.

Dad went to college to learn how to use computers back in the 70s — this was back when computers would take up whole rooms and you had to input commands with punch cards.

He brought home our first home computer in the late 90s; a chunky Compaq Presario that clicked like a bottle nose dolphin as it chugged along. The Compaq was mainly for his side hustle (a carpet cleaning business) and for me and my brothers to do our school work (the side hustle was helping to pay our school fees), but it quickly became my direct portal to the skateboarding article on Encarta and pokemon.com.

Dad’s main job was the night production manager for the Royal Gazette — a job he had for close to 40 years. He would often talk about how he missed the sound of a newsroom. The clacks and thunks of typewriters, the ringing of phones, the chaos of people coming together to make a paper every day. I couldn’t imagine how the Gazette could ever have been a loud place when I would visit him at work. It was deafeningly quiet! He would plop me in front of a computer to play Minesweeper and the only sounds you could hear were my mouse clicks.

Since Dad worked at night, he had a good chunk of hang time waiting for the paper to be ready to go to production. He would listen to internet radio stations, read interesting articles and forward dirty joke emails from his coworkers. When I left home for university my procrastinating study hours and his work hours would sync up. We would email each other links to cool music, videos, articles and, since I was old enough, the odd dirty joke email forward. But we mostly just chatted.

We started saying “I love you” over email

He was a great writer — he wrote just like he spoke — and both of our conversation styles lent themselves to the time delayed back and forth of email. I say something, you read it and think about it, you send a considered response back with a little something extra. Repeat.

We started saying “I love you” over email. We were always close, but we both had a hard time talking about our feelings especially when I was a teenager. Being apart, but still staying in touch over email gave us the space to feel comfortable saying we loved each other. We had no trouble saying it after that — it was one of the first things we said to each other when I could finally come home for Christmas in December 2022.

Tech is very expensive where I come from (about 30% more expensive than the US), so whenever I go home I roll up like Tech Santa with a bag full of laptops, tablets and phones. The Compaq Presario was long gone and Dad’s laptop had seen better days. Dad was a long time Windows user — he wrote his memoirs in Microsoft Word — so he was keen to stay on something familiar.

I got him a Surface Laptop 3. I walked him through setting up Windows 11. I arranged his bookmarks bar in Chrome so he could quickly access his email, Facebook, Youtube and, most importantly, his memoirs which we’d uploaded to Google Drive. He was so happy to have all of his stuff moved over to his new computer and relieved that his memoirs were properly backed up.

Going through his browser after he died was some of the most heartbreaking work I’ve ever done

After he passed away I helped my Mum with the gut wrenching task of cleaning up Dad’s digital life. I made sure she had access to his email and important logins so she could deal with closing accounts and adjusting billing names. I also memorialized his Facebook page to ensure it didn’t get hacked and start spamming friends and relatives with crypto scams.

Dad had several strokes leading up the internal bleeding and renal failure in May 2023. Honestly back in Christmas 2022 he had only recently recovered from his last stroke and he wasn’t quite himself. Going through his browser after he died was some of the most heartbreaking work I’ve ever done. The bookmarks bar that we had carefully set up together was riddled with duplicates — Facebook, Youtube, Google Drive over and over spilling out into a drop down menu. My Dad knew his way around computers. He had been using them since they took up a whole room. I knew some damage had been done after the strokes, although he was very good at hiding it and I don’t think I was ready to admit it at the time. But with him gone and looking into his computer, his window to the world, I couldn’t deny what I had known for at least a year. My Dad had strokes, my Dad had internal bleeding, my Dad was dying, my Dad was gone.

These things — computers, web browsers — they’re not just inert tools waiting to be picked up and used. The more you use them, the more they become a part of you and you of them. The laptop lid gets scratched, coffee is spilled onto the keyboard, cords become frayed, bookmarks get bundled up into folders to be forgotten, passwords get scribbled on sticky notes and then reset again, tabs sit open for months just in case, URLS and search queries are typed in repeatedly just because you’ve built up the muscle memory — facebook, youtube, google drive, pokemon.com.

We’re all about to be new at this again

A developer friend of mine once said to me, “the future is here and we’re all bad at it”. University level STEM students don’t know how file paths work, they don’t teach kids to type anymore and more and more jobs across a variety of fields require some degree of computer literacy. Everyone is expected to just know how to use computers, but as my Mum would say “I’ve never had a lesson!”. As we head into the next phase of computing — where you work with the computer instead of simply using the computer — much of your interactions will be through AI language models, but even the people building those don’t really know how they work. We’re all about to be new at this again — new at computers, new at web browsers, new at everything. Now more than ever, we’re all going to need some help. Hopefully that help comes from someone who understands what you’re going through, what you’re trying to get done and can meet you where you’re at.

What we’re building is so much more than just a portal to websites

On June 5 2023 I started a job that changed my life. I started working at the Browser Company of New York!

I help to build Arc, a product that I love, with some of the most talented, thoughtful and inspiring people I’ve ever met. I helped bring Arc to Windows, so people like my Dad could use this very special browser that feels like my home on the internet.

I truly feel like I’m doing the best work of my life and that’s because what we’re building is so much more than just a portal to websites. It’s where you do your work. It’s where you hang out with friends. It’s where you pirate anime, do your taxes and send emails to your Dad.

It’s where you live your life. As we continue to build I hope to be that human voice on the other side of the computer that helps you feel like Arc is for you, for your stuff, for your life. I want to help Arc feel like home. See you on the internet ✌️ Love you, Dad!

[socialbrewcoffee]

Java for change: Half of this coffee company’s profits go to help sex trafficking victims

HONOLULU (HawaiiNewsNow) — Mid-Pacific Institute graduate Simone Ispahani believes that a good cup of coffee can connect people and ideas.

That’s the reason she started Social Brew.

“It’s an online e-commerce coffee company. I primarily source from the Hawaiian islands because I used to live there,” she said.

Her coffee’s made from beans grown on the Big Island that are roasted in Hawaii.

Coffee lovers from across the U.S. order her product.

“I’m pretty biased, but I think it’s amazing,” she said. “We have 100% Kona single-origin coming from the Big Island, which is one of the top coffees in the world.”

But Ispahani is in business for more than personal gain. She donates 50% of her profits to non-profit organizations that help survivors of human trafficking. One of them is Ho Ola Na Pua.

“For me, it was really important to speak about the rehabilitation process because I feel like with the issue a lot of people speak about the rescue and that hard bit, but they don’t talk about the aftermath,” she said.

According to global statistics, 50 million people are forced into labor or sexual exploitation.

Ispahani came face-to-face with it while working alongside survivors in India.

“When you hear these big numbers, it’s easy to get overwhelmed. But once you put a face to that statistic, how can you not want to help?” she said.

She now lives in Santa Monica, where she oversees her online company and looks for more ways to combat human trafficking.

“One day I’d love to have a physical coffee store where I could employ survivors and be able to create sustainable job opportunities,” she said.

You can buy her signature brand of coffee at the Kahala Hotel & Resort gift shop and online at SocialBrew.us

“You can follow along with our journey @sipsocialbrew on Instagram. I’m always happy to hear from potential customers or people that just want to get involved in this cause and educate themselves,” she said.

Thanks For Reading

[puck-the-devil]

Ngh...maybe not intentionally, but...if a mortal you get close to ends up dying, even if simply from natural causes, it's not just something you can just ignore. And, thanks to my great interest in them, I've unfortunately ended up getting close to a lot of mortals over the years.

Thank you for the sympathy. Yeah, the wings thing was painful, but it's nothing like the grief of losing a...a friend.

Hmm...that's very interesting. It's a very practical and logical way of looking at things. How does your job have you interact with humans, exactly? In what capacity? And you mentioned you've rarely been emotionally hurt by humans before. If you don't mind me asking and it's not too difficult to remember, would you be willing to name a time you had been hurt by one?

So you're saying the affection you tend to feel toward humans is something akin to a general, distant affection for all humankind rather than for a particular individual, is that right? You might develop a love for them because of what they are, but not who they are?

*snorts at the term he butchered*

Pardon, I meant to say 'Industrial Revolution'. But I'm not sure I understand. What do you mean when you say that 'humans have provided the Other Realms with many of our tools'? What Other Realms and what tools? And what do you mean when you say 'it started the other way around'? The Other Realms provided humans with their own tools?

*considers the relation of angels and demons to their imaginations as compared to the relation of Fae*

Fascinating. Well, that's quite a question. Hm.

So, according to many humans' beliefs, the Fae are figments - beings or products of their imaginations. I'm not sure where angels and demons get their holy or unholy powers from, but from my understanding, a great deal of fairy magic and powers originate from what I'd call 'real magic' - magic that is comprised of human belief and imagination so strong that it can defy the laws of human reality with its mere existence.

I think 'real magic' is not only a source of power for the Fae, but a life source as well. That's why if a human merely utters their disbelief in fairies, it can actually be fatal to the more fragile individuals of our kind. I, as one of the more famous fairies known to humans, am less likely to suffer that fate given how many know of and believe in me, but that doesn't mean I'm completely impervious to it.

Like the Tooth Fairy, the Easter Bunny and Santa Claus are examples of other beings who I presume also live off the beliefs and imaginations of humans. As such, though, even if the Fae (at least some if not all) were originally angels themselves, I think we're more inextricably linked to imagination than angels or demons. And because of that link, our own imaginations are probably pretty potent, thus likely being the cause of our tenancy to keep coming up with new mischiefs, pranks, and other ways to mess with people.

I've heard it said that the demon Crowley has quite an imagination. Perhaps that's at least partly because he's been around humans so long that the astounding capacity of their ability to imagine encouraged him to 'think outside the box' of his own capacity. Perhaps that's also at least partly why Fae imaginations are pretty powerful considering how long we've been around humans as well.

That's an astute observation you made about us seeming to be able to change what we believe to be our core nature or to act against it. I didn't even realize that. Do you really think that has anything to do with imagination, though, especially if I didn't intend to do so? Because if it wasn't my intention or conscious decision, then that means I didn't have to imagine that I could change or rebel against that nature in order to actually achieve such a thing... right?

Maybe it's another of those 'free will' things that rubbed off of humans. After all, aren't Aziraphale and Crowley also examples of beings who have changed or acted against their supposed core natures? The Fae are, as I mentioned before, capricious and mercurial in mood, mind, shape, and overall nature, so we're no strangers to change. But if an angel and a demon can change, too, whether due to free will, imagination, or other factors, then couldn't anybody?

I could be wrong, but I don't think you told me - do you consider yourself an angel? You seem sort of aligned a little closer to the...'in-between', so to speak, so I wasn't sure.

On another note, you said that some of you (speaking as an angel? A demon? Both?) can imagine many things, but that those who do 'have a different reaction to the products of their own imagination than humans do, which can retain them in other ways.' May I ask what you meant by that? It almost sounds as though you had at least one specific example in mind.

@mr-crawleigh If you look under the passenger seat of your car, there’s a tin of cookies for Puck. Remember to be cautious with the fae, and polite.

After all, I could not save you if it became necessary.

[monsterfuneral]

just peachy | the lost boys

Relationship: Poly!The Lost Boys x Gender Neutral!Reader

Request:  Can I send in a request because your writing is *chef's kiss*? I'm just having a rough day and I'm tired of having a stupid accent. I'm from Georgia and my friends always tease me about saying certain words. Could you maybe write something about the boys' so is tired of them teasing her but she doesn't say anything because she doesn't want to seem weak or something. But she starts teaching herself how to talk "correctly" and then the boys realize her accent is basically gone and then try to make her feel better? 💛

Words: 2.1k

Warnings/Tags: Angst with a happy ending, changing yourself in order to satisfy your partner(s), insecurity, *Bo Burnham voice* prolonged eye contact, and some sexual tension for absolutely no reason

Author’s Note: Ah finally, someone else in this fandom that also lives in this hell state (I’m assuming you mean the USA Georgia). As someone who literally did this as a child, thus resulting in me not having an accent anymore unless I jokingly put one on, I felt like this request so hard. 

I’m sorry you’re having such a hard time right now dude, and I’m sorry it took me this long to write out but I wanted to make it as good as possible for you <3

Also thank you so much for the compliment on my writing that truly means so much.

Anywho I’ll shut up now, I hope this turned out okay and you enjoy the story! 

REQUESTS OPEN

(please read my “I do NOT write” section before sending in anything <3)

---

You moved to Santa Carla at the beginning of spring, focusing on better job opportunities and using it as an excuse to explore a new place away from the south. Living in Georgia could be tiring, seeing the same thing over and over again, looking at the same buildings, driving through the same towns. Sure it was where you grew up, but it was slowly feeling less like a home. So the second you saw the opportunity to leave and live somewhere else, you took it. There were things to do, people to meet, interesting jobs that actually appealed to you. 

It was nearing winter now. Sure you missed the yellowing leaves and crisp fall air that could hang around until noon. That was a sacrifice you were willing to make though, if it meant you could continue to work on the boardwalk right next to the beach. Where it was lively and something new was happening every night, keeping you interested. 

You leaned over the railing, looking out at the sparkling water and over to the live concert that had packed the beach for the night. Your shift at the boardwalk’s thrift store had just ended, giving you time to catch the last song that the opening band was playing. 

Arms encircled around your waist, making you snap out of your music induced daze. “Hey there sweet thing.” Paul muttered against the shell of your ear before nuzzling his nose against your neck. 

The rest of the boys slowly joined, caging both you and Paul in as they looked down at the beach to the show that was still going on. David leaned his back against the railing and looked at you, winking with a cigarette burning between his lips where one corner of his lips turned upwards in a smirk. You gave him a sweet smile, pulling Paul’s arms tighter around your waist. 

“Y’all are a little late tonight.” You mused, looking at Marko who leaned forward against the railing with his arms. Paul squeezed you a little tighter with a soft chuckle brushing against your ear. The boys all had a smile on their lips when they heard you talk.

You had met the boys not even a week after you had touched down in the bustling city. The four bikers, clad in leather with cocky attitudes radiating off of them staring you down. They could probably tell you were new in town, seeing how your doe eyes would stare at the boardwalk attractions in amazement. After all, the only times you had actually been any amusement parks in Georgia was when they’d open up seasonally. Even then it was rare since at the time you had a busy job to keep up with and sometimes it would get too humid to bother going anyway. Your innocent curiosity of a new location drew them in, putting up a front that they could show you around some time. After all, it was uncommon for a southerner to grace Santa Carla with their presence, so color them curious. 

The boys had always assumed that people from the south tended to keep to themselves in their small towns, going to church, and gripping their racial biases tight. Plus, it had also been well over four decades since they’d been to the south, their last visit being less than stellar. So when they first met you they were weary, not knowing exactly what was in store and what direction the conversation was going to go, and if you would end up being food by the end of the night. 

Luckily for all of you the conversation had actually gone very well, and the thrift store slowly started to become a spot they would drop by more frequently. They found you adorable, the accent and the way you talked, it was all just so different from what they were used to. Not long into knowing you, they started inviting you out with them, wanting to actually get to know you past where you were from and where you worked. From there your relationship blossomed into what it was now. 

“Had to get a little snack before dropping by.” Marko smirked, poking Paul’s bicep “Someone had the stomach rumbles bad.” 

“Ugh stop.” Paul groaned “I was hungry.”

“Well maybe you should have eaten more last night.” Dwayne chuckled softly, bumping his shoulder with Paul’s teasingly. 

“I tried!” Paul argued “Michael was being a total blood hog!” All the boys collectively sent a silencing ‘shut up’ glare to the rowdy blonde. 

You chuckled softly “Well next time you just gotta butt his ass out of the way.” 

It was a whole two months into knowing the boys before their little fanged secret was revealed. Granted it was by accident but whatever. 

It had been getting close to nightfall by the time you walked into the cave unannounced, planning on surprising them. But they were nowhere to be found so you decided to wait it out on the couch, mindlessly flipping through an old comic from Marko’s stash. When the sun had finally dropped behind the water, the boys all came flying out of a hole at the top of the cave flying in circles around the ceiling whooping and hollering, playfully chasing each other before hearing you gasp. 

The conversation you all had after that lasted all night. David tried insisting that you had to turn now that you knew, while Dwayne and Marko protested, knowing that they no longer had to enforce that rule with Max being dead. Either way, six months later and it was safe to say you knew pretty much everything when it came to their lives as vampires. 

From then on things had been pretty smooth sailing. 

Well until recently. 

Of course you knew the boys weren’t perfect, they did in fact kill people for food, so you weren’t exactly expecting to have boyfriend’s sent down from god himself. But by being with them it made you notice some things about yourself that you never really did before. Sure you knew they probably meant well, but picking at the way you said things made you feel a little insecure, in fact you were growing to dislike your accent because of it. And as a result you started to change your speech and the way you talked. The lingering thought of ‘maybe they’ll be happier like this’ in the back of your head just kept chewing away, and as a way to not come off as weak, you remained silent about the problem you had with their teasing. 

If they noticed they never said anything. Not commenting on the way your speech smoothed out into something you assumed they would find more tolerable. At first you had done it just as an experiment to see if you could even do it without them noticing. Which, to you, had seemed to be the case. 

Seemed to be.

Little did you know they were a lot more observant than you gave them credit for. Especially David. He had been the first to notice how you were using some words less and less, you had seemed closed off from them in general. The other boys slowly started to realize it too, noticing the almost subtle way your accent seemed to just go away after months of them hearing it. It was confusing to say the least. 

Some of them- mainly Paul- had chalked it up to being around them for so long, but they knew that wasn’t the case. If it were, Dwayne’s own accent would have been long gone by now. 

“Is something wrong?” David chimed out of nowhere, blowing smoke towards the stars. All eyes turned to him and you furrowed your brows in, confused. “You’re suppressing your accent. Why?” 

You felt your cheeks heat up, not having expected this conversation so soon “Um… I don’t know what you’re talking about?” You tried playing dumb, hoping he would just drop the subject. But this was David and you knew that was very unlikely. 

He let out a deep chuckle before sliding himself in front of you, blocking out your view of the show on the beach, and trapping you between himself and Paul. He lifted your chin with his thumb and index finger, the leather of his glove brushing against your bottom lip softly, keeping your head in place so he could look into your eyes. You felt like he was staring into your soul, reading you, attempting to pry the secrets from your brain.

“Don’t lie sweetheart.” He tilted his head, challenging you to argue back “I’ve been around for a long, long time. It’s not hard to notice a change as simple as an accent. Especially when it comes to our mate.” 

Mate. This was the first time you heard him actually use the word himself. It made your heart pick up pace in your chest, and you were sure they could all hear it. He brought himself closer, not exactly caring about the public’s prying eyes at your current predicament. He cupped your jaw and brought his face closer to yours, your noses brushing against each other before he teasingly kissed the corner of your mouth. He was toying with you, making you drop your guard.

“Answer the question baby.” Paul whispered against the shell of your ear, making you shiver.

Marko and Dwayne were both leaning on the railing on either side of the three of you, looking out at the ocean as if this wasn’t even happening. Well, with the occasional side eye in your direction.

David pulled away, and you subconsciously chased after him, seeking more contact. You let out a quiet whine, glaring at him as he took yet another drag from his cigarette. 

“Well?” 

“Fuck- Okay fine.” You mutter in defeat, no longer seeing a use in trying to fight them when they already suspected the truth. “I didn’t want to say anythin’, I mean it’s really not anything to get worked up over. It’s just that I’m tired of being teased for how I say stuff.” The accent slowly melded into your words, slight slip ups that had been harder to tame with the little time you’ve been training yourself to speak more ‘correctly’. “So uh- I thought I’d try and talk a little more normally.” 

“Why didn’t you say anything?” Dwayne asked, his attention now fully on you. 

You shrugged, slightly embarrassed “I don’t know. I mean it wasn’t your problem, and I thought it might be a little less annoying to hear me talk, y’know like-” 

“Like Paul?” Marko interrupted, receiving a punch in the shoulder from the wild haired blonde. 

Paul shook his head softly like a disappointed parent “No cool man.” 

A laugh left your lips, glad that they were being at least a little light hearted about it. “No. I guess I just kinda assumed you guys didn’t like it. So I just thought- well you know.” 

The conversation went silent, all of them staring at you before looking at each other. Dwayne was the first to crack from his stony expression and smile at you, his cool hand coming to smooth over your warm cheek. He caressed your skin gently with his thumb, silently admiring you for a second. 

“All you had to do was talk to us. I could’ve told Paul and Marko to shut the hell up for you.” He joked, making you smile with him before laughing. “You don’t have to change yourself to please us. That’s not something we expect from you.” 

Paul let go of you, spinning you around and catching you before you tripped over your own feet. “Yeah! You could have totally said something! You’re not gonna hurt our feelings or anything babe.” He brought you to his chest, giving your cheek an overly wet kiss, trying his best to lighten your mood. David’s hand smoothed up from your shoulder blade to your shoulder, the cool leather welcome against the heat on your neck. He brought himself closer, trapping you against himself and Paul once again, if not bringing himself closer this time. 

Marko smirked at the way your eyes clouded over slightly, “Yeah I mean… If anything I think it’s kinda hot.” He said, tracing the lapel of the leather jacket you wore, twirling the dark purple squid lures he had gifted you around his index finger. His eyes were lidded when he looked at you, a cocky smirk on his lips. 

You wanted so badly to tell him to fuck off, but oddly enough the reassurance did help. Realizing that you in fact did not have to change in order to please them, and that’s not what they wanted from you was like a breath of fresh air. It lifted a weight from your shoulders and you were thankful for it, leaving you wishing you had said something sooner. You loved them, and while being in Santa Carla was a huge change in your life, you wouldn’t want to experience it with anyone else other than them.

[theficplug]

Next Lifetime l Erik Killmonger l

previous chapters : Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 part 4

erik killmonger x black reader

part 5 (18+)

“I love you more than you’ll ever know, but because I love you. You know that we can’t stay like this. They’ll find you before nightfall.” you say Erik as he places kisses to your shoulder and wraps his arms around you tighter.

“2 days ago Shuri and Okoye saw you and they’re not just gonna let that go. Iridia and Tika are going to take you with them. Iridia’s dad has a few connections. They can hide you there until I can put an end to this. We both know there won’t be a 3rd chance, Daka, you know that.” you warn and run his fingers up and down your side to try and soothe you. 

“I don’t know if I can do that again. I’ve been without you long enough as it is.. But if that’s what it take. I’mma do it.” he says quietly like the words sit as heavy in his mouth like they do on his heart. 

“Well .. Hey. .. You know , you never really told me what you wanted for Christmas. It’ll technically be a few days afterwards but we make our own rules. I remember saying something about wanting to just go away for a bit. Me and you. After this is all over we can just go. Anywhere you wanna go. Maybe somewhere with snow and mountains and a view that just takes your breath away. Maybe Sweden? We’ll drink hot chocolate with extra marshmallows and bust our ass while trying to ski. We can find new art pieces and i’m not sure of how good the food is there but it’s worth a try. We can do it all. Our whole lives ahead of us.” you say, trying to fill the deafening sound of anxiety that hung in the air.

 “Sweden? I’ve never been there but my dad used to talk about going there when he was younger. My mama would say that she wants us to go visit the island though. She would always talk about beautiful growing up in Kapolei (hawaii) was. I don’t know why I thought you would say somewhere warm. But going somewhere cold gives me a chance to hold you closer. Kiss all over your lil frozen face. We can even put on all them lil cheesy Christmas songs you like. I bet Sweden aint never heard nobody drunk as hell off of hard apple cider singing Santa Clause Is A Black Man at the top of their lungs. But I don’t know about skiing bae. I’d like to keep my ankle bones intact.” N’Jadaka says laughing. 

You put your hand over your eyes before laughing until the point of tears at the fact that of all things he remembers that too. It was one Christmas Eve when he was off duty and back home. Things were different. You knew that things were different between the two of you. 

Your center was freshly opened and you had enough trauma shared between your story, the girls at your center, and Erik to need the relief of several drinks. You were holding onto Erik and singing All I Want For Christmas and soon as Santa Clause Is A Black Man came on you giggled and shook your head. Leave it up to your cousin Aaliyah. You were singing at the top of your lungs along with everyone else before holding a mistletoe over E’s head and leaning in . Before his lips could connect with yours you were heaving all of your lil elf shoes. That holiday part was...interesting.

The way that some of the girls who had accepted the invitation to the holiday party laughed when you walked in. You were branded as the cool auntie from then on. 

“I can’t believe you remember that. And the way I was still trying to be down to try anal that night and you just said to me “if you don’t drink this water and take your tired self to sleep”....You know I love you more than anything, right?” you reassure him while rolling onto his lap and swaying your hips down onto him.

“I do. Do you know that I love you more than anything. I mean I basically moved heaven and hell to come home to you.” he says to you before trailing his hands up from giving your cheeks a squeeze to your sides to take off your shirt.

You two hadn’t bothered with putting on much clothes after coming home and taking a warm bath to soothe your nerves. So there was nothing more than a blanket separating the two of you . 

“Don’t look at me like that.” you whisper to him . 

“What you mean?” N’Jadaka asks dipping his hands in between your legs rubbing at you softly and you lean down to capture his lips with yours. 

“Looking at me like this is the last you’re going to get to do this. I don’t like that…. This is only the beginning my love. So… give me something to hold me over until you come back. Or better yet, fuck me like you mean it.” you whisper against his lips 

“Why don’t you just come with me? We could go and start over.” he suggests

“Daka. You know that we can’t just leave. Things are different now. We have family. I have my girls. I don’t want to live on the run.” your words float in between moans as he begins to scissor his fingers in and out of you and softly massage you with the other while you lean back on your elbows.

“I promise. You’re gonna be alright this time. We’re gonna be just fine. You trust me?” 

He nods his head yes before rolling you over onto your stomach and moving your hips up at an angle so that he can dip into you slowly and then all at once. 

In the wee hours of the next morning you were standing in the kitchen with Iridia, N’Jadaka, and Tika. 

“We still don't really know the hows or the whys. But we don’t need to. You’re our girl and you know that we’d go to hell and back for you if you needed it. And Er- N’Jadaka we know that you may not remember a lot about us now but we got you too.” Tika explains and Iridia nods along while listening to her.

It all still didn’t make sense to all four of you but for some reason life decided to give him a second chance and you wanted to make sure that it was a good one. 

He had already told his parents that he would be back in a few days to a week and that he had finally been accepted that job abroad in Wales. 

Iri and Tika gave you some time to take alone as they watched you both from the door. 

N’Jadaka stood there eyeing you for a second seemingly unsure of the right words to say or what exactly to do. 

“See you later , alligator.” you say to him and watch his face break into the sunshine-y smile that was usually hidden under worry lines and pout on his lips in the past. 

He didn’t get all of his memory or what happened to him, yet but he remembered you and for now that was enough. 

“In a while crocodile.” he says before pulling you into his arms and in for a kiss. 

“Alright , alright. Lover boy , the sooner , the better.” Tika reminds you both and you nod before smoothing out his hoodie and sending him on his way before you changed your mind and left with them.

You paced around your home for days  trying to keep yourself busy. You cleaned. You went over plans to expand the housing projects. You even tried doing yoga and meditation to help soothe yourself. 

2 days later, the knock at your door came as no surprise. You were sitting at the small dining table slowly sipping on the cup of coffee to soothe your nerves. 

You look through the peephole to see Okoye, Shuri, 2 of the Dora Milaje, and T’Challa standing shoulder to shoulder while whispering amongst themselves. 

“The King himself. Tea or coffee?” you ask as you open the door and they storm in after Okoye.

“Where is he?” Okoye asks as two of the women shoves you back and out of the way with their spears slightly and you set your eyes from them to T’Challa with a raise of an eyebrow.

You accessed the situation and realized that it wouldn’t be wise for you to lose your composure now. 

While smoothing out your hair, you turn your attention to T’Challa. “This is still my home and I would ask that you’d hold the same level of respect that I would have for yours.” you warn and sit down at the kitchen table again , sipping slowly on your coffee. 

They rip through the home, checking every room for any sign of Erik, leaving nothing in their paths unchecked. 

You slide the other cup towards T’Challa and he sits at the table with you before asking Shuri and Okoye to relax.

He takes a look at the cerulean coffee mug and then back at you while tapping his fingers on the table. 

“If I were going to kill you T’Challa, I would’ve done it already. You fell asleep in my arms for months. I could’ve done it then.  Or have you forgotten me already? Seems like you have been keeping tabs on me. You found me in two days.” you start the uneasy conversation off slowly.

You and T’Challa dated for some time when you met while working on a similar project in the area. E hadn’t told you everything at that point about Wakanda and what happened so you had virtually no idea who T’Challa was. Your relationship with Erik was on the rocks when he left for the army and he was already seeing someone else so you thought that it’d be alright to move forward with yours as well. 

After dating for a few months, you and T’Challa both decided that with your conflicting schedules and different life paths that it wouldn’t work out between the two of you and you both decided to end things on good terms. Looking back on it you thought the problem was distance and where you both stood in life, but now you’d say the world is a lot smaller than you thought. You never connected the dots until it was too late. Your heart still belonged to N’Jadaka but T’Challa still had a soft spot for you. He also knew more about you in that short time than a lot of people did. 

He chuckles softly and accepts the cup of coffee. He sips the warm drink slowly while eyeing you. The silent conversation spoke loudly as his eyes never left yours. 

“How’ve you been?” you ask him cautiously trying to see where the conversation is going to go.

“Uthando (love), I thought that you would’ve outgrown him by now. You know that he’s a prisoner of Wakanda and is a threat to society. Where is he, hmm?” T’Challa questions in that calming tone that he has always had. The honey-tongued, brown eyed devil could talk a starving bear into not attacking. 

“I love him, T. I couldn’t have ever outgrown him. I have loved him since we were children and I know he’s not a perfect man. He’s made some horrible choices. Ones that he could never take back. I can’t explain what happened. I don’t even have the words for it to try and explain it to myself. All I can say is that he’s home with me now and we’re trying to build something. He’s not trying to harm anyone.” you plead before leaning up and grabbing his hands in yours gently.

“That’s bullshit. He sure as hell wanted to harm the last time we met.” Shuri retorts from her position by the window. 

Okoye tenses up and steps forward while quickly looking from T’Challa to you and back to him. 

He nods at her before giving her a small smile and a quiet “it’s alright”. She reluctantly huffs and stands back with her arms crossed. 

“And would you have executed your father for the blood he has on his hands. Because his body count is sitting at 2. One for N’Jobu, his brother and one for N’Jadaka , his nephew. Your father was a murderer. His hands were not clean. ” your voice wavers as you try to get her to see things from your perspective.

Shuri let’s out a  loud scoff and then a defeated sigh as she stands near the kitchen window and tries to wrap her head around the words leaving your mouth.

“I didn’t mean to upset you. . . I apologize. I’m saying we can sit here and talk about good and bad. The innocent and the evil all night. But at the end of the day we all exist in the grey. We can all just hope that we leave this world better than we found it. T’Challa, Shuri, you can set it right. You can give him the life that he was robbed of. Could you imagine being a confused little boy trying to comfort your father as he took his last breaths? You were allowed to look at your father as a hero, a leader, and you were comforted by hot chocolate at night when you couldn’t sleep and the dreams of one day becoming The Great Black Panther. He had nothing.Wakanda failed him once. I’m asking that you please don’t fail him again. ” you explain while looking him in the eyes. 

“He had you… I know you and I know your heart. But I also know Killmonger-” he says before you cut him off.

“YOUR COUSIN. COUSIN. FAMILY. YOUR OWN BLOOD.” you raise your voice as you sit the baby pink mug down and back away from the table.

You take a moment to gather yourself as you turn away from the 3 Wakandans. 

“My father did what he had to do.” T’Challa says setting her gaze on you and then back to Okoye whose jaw is clenched so tightly you thought that she’d burst a vein. 

“And now so will you. Your father was a coward and his policies were bullshit. But you have the power to do something about it. Shuri, what would you do if it were T’Challa in those shoes. N’Jadaka isn’t perfect. I know that he has done some shameful things. But if you were in his shoes. What would you have done? Wakanda failed him and all I’m asking is for you to set it right. Let us live our lives in peace. You’ll never have to hear a single thing from us again. For fucks sake T. You know that I did what I had to do. When we first met. How did really  meet me? Frantic in a diner … After I had just emptied the clip into a father on behalf of a girl that showed up at my center’s doorstep looking like a piece of her soul had been stolen from her that night. We do not exist in the black or white. A lot of us are floating in the grey. I’m not asking you to play God and absolve him of his “sins”. I’m asking you to find some humanity.” You garner and wipe at the tears falling freely on your cheeks  and look to all 3 of the faces staring back at you. 

Okoye and the other 2 Doras look at you wide eyed before turning their heads to wipe a lone tear from their own eyes. 

You drop your arms as T’Challa steps closer and asks for permission to hug you. He embraces you for a moment before grabbing your hands and kissing them gently. 

“I will have to confirm this with the council. He reports back to Wakanda every 3 times a year to show the progress he has made. We want to know that he’s doing something with this … second life. . . And I will be expecting an invite to the wedding from you. You have my word." He promises and you nod before hugging him back fully and squeezing him gently. 

"But you ca-" Shuri says and T'Challa turns to her and shakes his head. 

He lets go of you to walk over and comfort Shuri .

"We can't carry the sins of our father. This has to end with us." He reasons and she nods. 

Okoye steps in and walks over to you to get her last message across. "If he does not abide by the promises and plans that you have made… Then, you know that I will not hesitate." She warns as she stands with you eye to eye. 

You bare your teeth and square your shoulders as you narrow your gaze. "For him, well, you know neither will I. You have a good day Miss Okoye." You end the conversation and turn to walk towards the door and usher them out. 

You lean up to kiss T'Challa's cheek before whispering to him to not be a stranger this time. You even offer to have him and Nakia over for dinner whenever the tension doesn't run so high. 

You quickly make it inside of your apartment and drop your shoulders before letting out a small sob. It was a wash of relief and a fleet of happy tears. N'Jadaka was finally able to start over and start over with you.  

"Holy shit-"

(tag list :  @doublesidedscoobysnacks @chaneajoyyy @mirandkimy​ @doitforthevine67 @dasia21 @depressionandfandomsinc @sinfully-dope @ambitionwood @heybriheyyy @wholelotta-melanin @theesotericqueen @mbakuwife @spookys-girl @teardropzih @bigchoose @ceo-of-baby @sweetpeachjones @lost-ssoull @love17us @beautifullmelodyxx​ @ghostfacekill-monger​ @shyblackgurl​ )

[nour386]

A Picnic In the Woods

Stanford And Fiddleford have a nice day out with one another and enjoy a picnic in the Gravity falls woods. 

(also on ao3!)

This is my secret Santa Gift for @pirably who wanted some Fiddauthor fluff. nothing explicitly romantic, just the boys being happy. I hope I met your expectations!

~~~

The sun shone through the tree branches above as Stanford led the way through the woods. There was a cheerful spring in his step when he looked back and saw Fiddleford not far behind, with a picnic basket in hand. A whole day free to themselves, no anomalies to study or machines to work on. His mind ran wild with possabilities.

     ‘Perhaps we’ll find a new cryptid. Or Perhaps we’ll find a secret city of fairies and become crowned kings or maybe-’  

 Stanford was pulled out of his thoughts by a gentle pull on his shoulder.

 “You’re getting ahead of yourself.” Fiddleford smirked.

 “You don’t know that.” Stanford crossed his arms.

 “You had that look on your face. The one you have when you’re thinking of finding a magical creature.” Fiddleford pointed at his own face, making a wide-eyed look of wonder with his jaw hanging open. “Kinda like this.”

 “That’s an absurd and frankly poor imitation of-” Stanford’s statement was interrupted as a fairy flew past, leaving sparkling dust in her path; and he found himself making the exact expression.

 “You’re adorable.” Fiddleford ruffled Stanford's hair. “Come along, times a wastin’ and our lunch ain’t gonna stay warm forever.”

 “Are you saying that a brilliant inventor such as yourself hasn’t already designed a device that could not only keep meals warm for hours, but also feed the user?” Stanford asked, spreading his arms in the air.

 “Sounds to me like someone is dropping not-so-subtle hints that he’s too lazy to eat at appropriate times.” Fiddleford lowered Stanford’s left arm out of his face. He slid his hand down the researcher’s arm so that they were holding hands.

 Stanford paused, looking down to make sure he wasn’t misunderstanding what his hands were feeling. His cheeks flushed red when he saw that they were indeed holding hands. He felt Fiddleford interlace their fingers; and his cheeks turned a deep shade of crimson.

 “You-uh-I-” Stanford rubbed the back of his neck with his free hand.

 “You’re like a little kitten.” Fiddleford cooed. His smile grew further as he watched his boyfriend squirm under his affection.

 “How’s that? If it’s about my sneezing again-”

 “I was going to say that you’re both adorable, and easily held. Just like a little kitten.” Fiddleford pulled Stanford closer to leave a soft kiss on his forehead.

 “How could you take advantage of my distracted state in such a way, Fiddleford?” Stanford said in mock shock. “I trusted you in my vulnerability, and you treat me like this.”

 “I just realised something else that makes ya just like a kitten,” Fiddleford rolled his eyes. “You’re overly dramatic when it comes to the tiniest things.”

 “This talk of cute things reminded me of something,” Stanford said.

 “Oh do tell,” said Fiddleford.

 “I’ve been hearing rumors about creatures who are so cute that any who feast their eyes upon them are compelled to obey their every command.” Stanford spoke excitedly, there was a shine in his eye.

 “Well we can rule you out from being one of them.” Fiddleford said smugly.

 Stanford shook his head. “You were just singing my praises on my cuteness, what made you change your mind so suddenly?”

 “Oh I didn’t say that.” Fiddleford corrected. “All I’m saying is that after this morning, I don’t think you have the power of manipulating people with your cuteness.”

 “Listen, getting Stanley to leave his bed before noon is like trying to break down a wall using a sewing needle.” Stanford shrugged.

 “Anyway, you were saying something about a creature that, despite all logic, is somehow cuter than you?” Fiddleford said.

 “Hmm,” Stanford tapped his chin before snapping his fingers. “Yes! Now my informant was a gnome, so this information might not be too reliable. However I am planning a small expedition next week to find out more.”

 The pair continued to walk through the woods. Stanford happily rattled off information about the many wondrous creatures he intended to study and the potential discoveries that were waiting for them in the coming months.

 All the while Fiddleford listened intently. While he did not hold the same enthusiasm that Stanford had for the unknown, he did enjoy listening to the way Stanford’s voice sounded when he got excited,he way he’d talk faster as though all his thoughts wanted to get out at once.

 Even now, watching Stanford go on about the feuds amongst the many fairy kingdoms and how he hoped to bridge peace to (or at least document the fall out). Fiddleford felt the sheer glee that dripped from Stanford’s voice as he spoke. It was infectious, and Fiddleford found himself matching the spring in his boyfriend’s step as they walked together.

 “Oh! We’ve almost arrived.” Stanford pointed at a gap amongst the trees ahead of them.

 “Thank the Lord.” Fiddleford sighed.

 “You aren’t tired already are you?” Stanford teased.

 “I’m sorry, were you the one carrying our picnic basket the entire trek?” Fiddleford shot back.

 “I offered to carry it but you said you wanted to,” said Stanford . “You’ve no one to blame for your tiredness but yourself.”

 Fiddleford huffed. “You’ll understand when we get there.”

 The pair walked through a gap between two tall redwoods. Before them was a small clearing. A small pond sat near the centre, the rest of the ground was covered in short grass. With the sky above and the trees on the far side of the clearing provided a good amount of shade to hide away from the heat.

 “Now      this     is very picturesque.“ Fiddleford rested his hand on his hip.

 “All it needs is a hill and it’d look like every picnic in those old stories.” Stanford led the way to the shadow of the trees.

 “Knowing this place I doubt we’d be able to climb up a hill without having to answer some arbitrary number of riddles.” Fiddleford said as he followed Stanford’s lead.

 Stanford laughed. “With a mind as sharp as yours? I doubt you’d need to worry about riddles.”

 “Speaking of my sharp mind.” Fiddleford pulled on Stanford's hand, bringing his boyfriend to a stop. “I might have built something to help us with setting up our picnic.”

 “Oho?” Stanford raised his brow. “The floor is yours.”

 “Just a moment.” Fiddleford stepped forward, letting go of Stanford’s hand. This made the researcher give a small whine. Fiddleford rolled his eyes as he placed the picnic basket down on the grassy floor. He picked up a long stick from the ground beside him and walked back to Stanford's side. “Now, prepare to be amazed.”

 Stanford watched with bated breath as Fiddleford took the stick and tapped the side of the picnic basket three times. Four thin metallic arms emerged from beneath the blanket covering the basket and began to unfold it. With the blanket out of the way, Stanford could see a small robot, rectangular in shape with the aforementioned limbs connected to it. It dusted the blanket before gently laying it on the grass beside the basket. Pressing its hands against the ground, the robot lifted itself out of the basket. It rested its metallic body on the blanket and reached for the food hidden in the basket. In no time at all the robot had placed the impressive spread of food across the blanket.            

 A roast chicken was placed in the centre of the blanket, surrounded by many sandwiches. They had a variety of fillings, ranging from the simple ham and cheese to more strange, like pickles and mayonnaise.  An assortment of fruit, that had been freshly bought from the market the previous day, was placed in a small bowl in the centre of the blanket. Next to that bowl was a bag of jelly beans, as well as a pair of fizzy drinks that Fiddleford knew Stanley wouldn’t miss.

 “Pretty impressive eh?” said Fiddleford.

 Stanford was unable to answer as he stared in awe at the robot that, having finished its job, neatly folded itself back into the picnic basket.

 “Hello? Stanford? You in there?” Fiddleford waved his hand in front of the researcher’s face.

 “Fiddleford, that was amazing!” Stanford jumped up and hugged his boyfriend tightly.

 “Stanford- you’re- crushin’ me-” Fiddleford coughed.

 “Oh, my apologies.” Stanford let him down with an embarrassed smile on his face. “But yes, you did an impressive job with that machine.”

 Fiddleford took a deep breath. “I’d have said you were only saying that because I was your boyfriend, if it weren’t for you almost breaking me in two.”

 “I was caught up in the moment,” Stanford said. “I was handed the opportunity to watch one of your machines in person. What was I meant to do? Give one of those painfully boring claps like they do at those golf games that Stanley skips past on TV?”

 “You might have a point. That did feel a lot more personal than just a clap.” Fiddleford tapped his chin in thought. “But a warnin’ beforehand would be preferred.”

 “That can be arranged.” Stanford grinned. “But, before we continue that discussion, how about we enjoy this spread before the ants get to them?”

 “Not magical ants I hope.” Fiddleford shuddered.

 “You’ve heard of fire ants? Well these are ice ants!” Stanford wriggled his fingers sinisterly. A cheeky smile spread across his face as he continued. “It’s said that their bite can result in frostbite and perhaps even soggy sandwiches if left out in the sun for too long.”

 “Then we better get to eating.” Fiddleford rolled his eyes, taking a seat on the blanket.

 Stanford stayed standing for a moment. Choosing to savour the sight of Fidddleford sitting in the shade of the trees with a small smile on his face. His golden brown hair shone in the flakes of sun that made it through the branches of the trees that towered above. The engineer was reaching for a sandwich before he realised that he was alone on the blanket. He looked up at Stanford and sighed.

 “You shoulda brought your camera.” Fiddleford said. “A picture would last much longer.”

 “Now where would the fun be in that?” Stanford sat opposite his boyfriend.

 “The fun would be in eatin’ before those ‘ice ants’ get to your food.” Fiddleford threw a sandwich at Stanford.

 “Fine fine.” Stanford chuckled. He unwrapped the sandwich before checking the filling. “Ugh, did you grab any random combination of ingredients from the kitchen and put them together?”

 “Only for a couple of them.” Fiddleford smiled. Leaning forward, Stanford caught a peak at FIddleford’s sandwich and recognised pickle slices and mayonnaise poking out of the bread. “Makes this into a fun little game of sandwich roulette.”

 “Either that, or I have to seriously consider buying you a cookbook.” Stanford sighed. He took another bite of his sandwich. It had a thick slice of cheese between two different flavoured spreads of jam. It was a curious mix of sweet and savoury, but not as bad as he was expecting.

 The pair sat together, enjoying the warm afternoon, chatting idly as they ate. They tossed the sandwiches back and forth, daring one another to try out the strange combinations that Fiddleford had concocted. The pair laughed at the way their faces twisted with disgust after a biting into the sandwiches. From sardines and jelly to cucumbers and cheese, the pair passed around the strange flavours before moving on to the main course of their picnic.

 While Fiddleford had been proud of the terrible sandwich flavours had concocted, he also knew the value of providing a real meal. He handed Stanford a knife to cut up the chicken, while he prepared the proper sandwiches for them. A quick spread of mayonnaise on a clean slice of bread along with a generous cut of chicken made a simple but tasty chicken sandwich. With Stanford’s nod of approval, Fiddleford made a couple more before digging in himself.

 Having finished their lunch, the pair lied back on the now empty blanket and enjoyed the stiff breeze that was blowing through the clearing. They watched the clouds, or Stanford did at least; he had one hand in the bag of jelly brands and the other gently holding Fiddleford’s hand. The engineer rested his head on his free arm and listened to Stanford talk about the different clouds types, and how the many different anomalies viewed them. How some clan of trolls saw storm clouds as warning from ancient giants and would hide themselves underground. Despite his best efforts to stay attentive, the comfort that came from Stanford's voice, the warm sun and his full belly, made him succumb to his drowsiness. Fiddleford gave a small yawn before falling to sleep.                  Stanford's eyelids felt heavy. He rolled over to find Fiddleford snoring softly. With a small smile, Stanford wriggled closer to his boyfriend so that their foreheads were resting against one another. Feeling a little bit cheeky, he gave a small peck on Fiddleford’s nose.

 ‘A short nap won’t hurt,’ he thought, before letting himself fall asleep.

 ~~

I’d like to thank my beta reader @introvert-no-chameleon for their awesome work with helping me fix my grammar.

[collectionofcherries]

👀couldnt help but notice you talking about hannibal in your billy loomis imagine 👀 also couldnt help but to notice thats in your fandom list 👀 maybe you should shoot your shot with an imagine with hanni 👀

So over on my Naruto blog I did a little fluff piece called Morning Coffee that everyone seemed to enjoy so I thought I'd bring it here. It’s a simple concept, it follows your morning to the start of your cup to the end of it. Hope you enjoy! --- ☕ Morning Coffee ☕

---

written in the mind-frame of a Female!Reader but there are no pronouns mentioned nor gender specific anatomical body parts.  Warnings: None, flirting with the idea of smut but no actual smut. Sexual longing maybe? Word Count: 1,155

--- Hannibal Lecter

   Having coffee with a friend shouldn't have been this stressful, being this stressed in the morning couldn't be good for you but it wasn't like you could help it. How are you supposed to dress for morning coffee with a man who practically lives in three piece suits? Formal? Business casual? Casual casual? Your clothing covered floor seemed to bare no answers as you stared at what you swore was everything you owned...had everything always been this ugly? God! Why did you even propose a breakfast together? Hannibal does dinner but no you had to pitch breakfast to be different and try to impress him, yeah you're sure he'd be impressed by the amount of clothing on the floor. If you'd been like everyone else and just gone for dinner you'd have more time to try on clothes but a look at the clock told you that you had to leave now or you'd be late and that'd be terrible, that'd be rude and Hannibal can't stand people who're rude. However messy your floor was it was worth it for the compliment you got when Hannibal opened his door to greet you. “I don't see you in colour often, red looks lovely on you.”     Well, guess you're wearing red for the rest of your life.     "Oh thank you.” Finds it's way out of your throat as your face is painted the colour that apparently looks lovely on you.     “Please, come in.” He welcomes stepping to the side to allow room.    You never gave much thought to what a foyer could be, yours is technically where you just kick off your shoes and put your keys but this, this was proper foyer. Just the entrance to his house was nice. God it was big too, he could probably rent it out to a poor college kid for like 500 bucks if he wanted not that he looked like he needed the extra money. Did you even know how to say Foyer properly? You bet Hannibal did, without a doubt he knew all those fancy French words--was that word even French? Oh no, what if you were stupid and it wasn't French? What if this wasn't even a foyer? How dumb were you? H-- hands came up to your shoulders jolting you out of your spiral. Hannibal gently pulls the edges of your jacket and you immediately understand. “Thank you.” You repeat once again.    He smiles with a nod as he slides your jacket off of you with your help and hangs it up on a beautiful wood stand you're sure costs more than half your rent. Thinking about how much money was within these walls could make your head spin but that spinning is halted by the soothing tones of his voice. “Lost in thought?” He inquired.    “Uh, just early morning brain fog you know?” You try to bluff.    It's not convincing but he nods anyway. “Perhaps some coffee would help.”     “Sounds good.” You agree.    Following him through his house only furthers your awe, you could spent a lifetime in here just looking at stuff. “I thought it'd be pleasant to make breakfast together instead of having it ready, eating together is one experience but preparing a meal is another entirely.” He explained    The idea of sharing an experience with Hannibal was one that filled you with butterflies, the more you thought about it you didn't think you'd heard of Hannibal cooking with anyone else, maybe the stress of this morning would pay off after all. “I'm not a chef but I'll do my best, what're we making?”     “Uova al purgatorio.” Which leads to a bit of a blank stare on your end, as pretty as it sounds you've got no idea what that means. “It's an Italian dish, eggs in Purgatory.” He explained.    “Sounds interesting.” You quip.    “It is, the name comes from the eggs sitting in a tomato base, the white of the eggs floating within the red sauce giving the illusion of souls trapped within the unknown of Purgatory.” He explains as he prepares the boiling water for your coffee. “Even at breakfast it seems we wonder where our souls go to lay.”     “Well makes sense for Italy home of the Pope, I'm sure there's religious overtones at most meals.”    He smiles a little and nods. “During my time in Italy it truly does surround you, it's an interesting feeling, almost euphoric to be encapsulated by it at every

turn.” He remarked.    “Wow, you spent time in Italy? It looks beautiful there.” You say, trying to stray a little further from the religious aspect, you don't exactly know where Hannibal falls on that spectrum and the last thing you want to do is come across rude or disrespectful to him. “Coffee smells great.” You add as he pours the boiling water into his very fancy looking French Press.    Your attempt to change subjects doesn't go unnoticed at all but he once again nods as he looks at you. “Yes, I traveled quite a bit in my youth, I called Italy my home for some time.” He explains.     “Do you ever miss it?” You ask    “I take with me what I relish in the places I've been, while I may no longer be surrounded by the Primavera or the walls of Santa Maria della Concezione dei Cappuccini they are ever present in my mind, reproduced with the utmost detail.” You could listen to Hannibal talk all day, it wouldn't matter what he said you just like the way he said things, the timbre of his voice. “Have you ever given thought to travelling?” He prodded.    “Course, who doesn't think about travelling? See far off places, experience new people, new things, different cultures.” You reminisce.    “What stops you?”     You shrug a little. “Funds mainly but I'd want to take the time to learn the language of where I'm going, understand the culture so I don't offend anyone. I don't want to be one of those tourists that makes an ass out of themselves.” You said cringing at the end.    “It's considerate to take the time to understand a culture you will not live in, many go on whims like they're visiting amusement parks.” He agreed. “Would Italy be a place you'd like to visit or would you find their taste for religion leaving a sour taste in your mouth?” He asked.    Did you really think you'd get out of a question Hannibal wanted answered? You shrugged a little once again trying to make sure you phrase things that wouldn't step on toes that were in shoes that likely cost more than your rent. “I'm unsure...I don't know if my broader and more open views would be welcome in the narrower scope of such a religious place and I wouldn't want to impose myself or my views upon anyone.” You slowly clamber out as he pours two cups of what smells like incredibly coffee. “Thank you.” You quickly add as you take it from his hands.    “While I do know you enough to welcome you into my home, I'm not sure if I know you well enough to know of the open views you believe would be scrutinized under the gaze of the Church. Do you speak a broader view of all religions? Racial rights? Sexual appetite?”     You stomach almost leaps into your throat at the last question, talking sexual appetites with someone who could feed that said appetite for the rest of your life? How were you supposed to talk about that? You didn't want to impose but you certainly didn't want to miss any chance of feeding that appetite. “All of the above, you know?” You pitch at first. “I'm a big believer in religious freedoms for everyone, from anywhere--just freedom for everyone in general.” You tackle first, that's the more important one and the one that won't get you into any trouble. “And um--yeah I suppose my sexual appetite wouldn't please the Church.” You say with a small laugh breaking your gaze from Hannibal and down at your coffee cup. “Not exactly a born again virgin.” Smooth. Great job. Wow. Fuck. Maybe you could drown yourself in this coffee? You take a sip and to spite being too shy to ask for sugar or milk this coffee is great, actually smooth. Unlike you. “This is great, what is this?” You try.    Why do you try? He always notices, you're luckier than you know that it endlessly amuses him rather than annoys him. “It's Peaberry Coffee from Tanzania, it's a rounder sweeter bean, almost tea like.” He explains, allowing for a moment for you to believe you've somehow fooled him into letting his prior question go thoroughly unanswered. “It can take a more refined palette to taste all the notes.” He remarks.    “I don't know how refined mine is, I just know it's nice.”

You admit with a small laugh.    “Usually our tongues know more than we think, close your eyes and allow the flavours to dance over your tongue.” He instructed.    Hannibal could tell you to jump off a cliff and if he said it nice enough you probably would. You take a small breath and take another sip and try your damnest to impress Hannibal if only even a little but as you swallow you know your guesses are little more than shots in the dark. “It's sweet...kind of like a berry...?” You weakly pitch.    You're not wrong but Hannibal can tell your guess isn't confident. “Do you know you have a habit of coming in on yourself when you're unsure of what you're saying?” He asks letting you know he's been on to you for much longer than you would have hoped. He comes around from his large kitchen island to stand in front of you and you fight the urge to step back and away which only adds to how hard your heart beats in your chest. “Coming in on ones self allows negative neurons to fire, by simply lifting your head you'll allude more confidence and though red looks lovely on you so does that.” That compliment alone made your head spin so his next action of bringing his warm hand up to gently lift your head? Your entire body felt weak. It was laughable that the simple touch of his thumb resting on your chin and his forefinger below it could have such an effect on you, looking up at him him with unsure eyes as to where this went next was laughable to him. You were putty in his hands, vulnerable in every meaning of the word. "Try again, close your eyes and when you take a sip allow it to work around your mouth, to explore every inch of your tongue.”    Was this porn? This could be porn, this might as well be porn as far as your body was concerned apparently. It took you a moment to actually get your limbs to move and grab your coffee again and it felt good to close your eyes, you liked Hannibal but being so close and having him stare back at you was overwhelming. And he knew it, there was something very satisfying about your kind of vulnerability, it was raw and open for him to touch and mold with his hands. You brought the cup to your lips and took another sip and once again tried to find a defined note in this coffee and maybe it was having your head tilted up, maybe it was having him so close but an answer did come from your mouth. “Cedar?”    Opening your eyes you knew you'd gotten it right by the contented look you were rewarded with. "I had a hunch your tongue knew more than you were letting on.” He teased.    He let his thumb trail back and forth on your chin before moving it away and your head felt like it was floating. “What does your tongue taste? I'm sure it's much more experienced than mine.”     You're sure if you didn't feel so floaty such a blatantly flirty question wouldn't have come out of you but it seemed to fly just fine as a small amused breath made it's way out of him. “Your assumption would be correct.” He let you know. “The notes in this coffee I've become very acquainted with over the years so it wouldn't be much of an exercise in taste for me to tell you them all. Perhaps another breakfast we could expand upon both our tongues.” Your entire body clenched and you had to practically drown out your whine of want by taking a sip of your coffee. “For now we'll be expanding on yours, come, wash up I'll show you how to make uova al purgatorio, a taste from my past.” He said walking back around the kitchen island.    You follow him around the island and with one last sip put your empty coffee cup into the sink. --- ~Admin Coral 🍒 Buy Me A Coffee?

[twinkleallnight]

12 Days of Fictmas

Thank you Erin and Alicia for this wonderful opportunity. This is my first time at fictmas and I hope you enjoy this little treat.

Thank you @txemrn for brainstorming.

Book: The Royal Romance AU

Word count: 1389

Disclaimer: All characters belong to pixelberry.

Rating: Mature

A/N: This is also my submission for sibling appreciation month hosted by @lovealexhunt.

Santa Comes to Town.

It was a cold winter morning when the tiny toddler jumped up into her elder brother’s bed. She frantically moved her tiny hands around the blankets which covered her brother in a warm slumber.

“Dekey! Dekey! Gey-Up! Up! Kishmush! Kishmush!”

The boy pulled the covers over his head. His muffled sound came out. “Not yet, Savvie. It’s still a week to go. Let me sleep.”

The little girl frowned and shouted out at the door, “Mommy! Dekey not getting up. Eeaam mama weebe anggy."

Listening to this, Bianca walked in, her hands full of neatly folded clothes that she stacked properly in the children’s cupboard. She turned around and walked to the little girl who was still sitting at the edge of the bed with pouted lips. Bianca sat down in front of her and looked into her brown eyes. “Sweetpea, you don’t say Liam’s mama. She is the queen. You address her as ‘your majesty’ or ‘madam’.”  

Then she called out, “Drake, you need to get out of that bed, and prepare to host your friend.”

“Yes Mother.” The four-year-old obediently plopped up into the bed rubbing his eyes.

Bianca picked up her daughter in her arms and started walking to the washroom. “Let’s get you dressed up pretty. How would you like that?” The little girl nodded enthusiastically.

The next hour was spent in getting the kids through the morning routine.

While her husband was busy at the palace, as the head of king’s guard, Bianca spent time bringing up her kids with just a bit of the Texan touch in a foreign land.

 Staying in the kingdom of Cordonia, she had carried her roots from the life back from Texas. It could be seen in her lifestyle and her home.

She had beautifully decorated a wall with some rustic crosses where her children stood praying with her, now. After offering their prayers, the kids got busy in decorating their little Christmas tree, that Jackson, their father had managed for them.

“It’s quite small.” He had sighed after placing it in the corner of their living room.

“It is perfect Jack.” Bianca had assured him as they watched Drake and Savannah jumping around it. The tree that appeared small to Jackson, was towering over the little stature of the kids. Savannah was clapping her hands in excitement.

The siblings spent each day adding a little of this and a little of that to their tree. Today it was special as Drake’s best friend, prince Liam was visiting them with his mother, Queen Eleanor.

Bianca was flabbergasted when she received the queen first time, during her stay at Cordonia, soon after her wedding to Jackson. But, over a period of time, she got accustomed to the loving nature of the Queen and her unique ways of mingling with common people. It had somehow become a tradition to host the Queen a week before the Christmas day, at the Walker’s humble quarters.

Bianca was occupied in the kitchen preparing the menu for the visit till late noon. She realised there was pin drop silence in the house. ‘What are these two up to now?’ she worried. She rushed to the bedroom but stopped in her tracks to find Savannah dressed up in her red frilly frock sitting on the floor.

 Drake was holding the little girl’s hand delicately in his, as he was busy painting her tiny nails red. It looked like he had done up her brown curls  in a slightly messy braid. When Savannah sensed her mother, she looked up and Bianca saw her pearly whites shining through the brightly coloured red lips.

Bianca’s heart warmed up to see the doting elder brother still engrossed into his job. “Mommy!” Savannah shrieked. Drake shook with the sudden sound and tipped the nail enamel bottle he was holding on his dress. “I am sorry mother.” He looked apologetically at his mother, worrying that she may scold him for the mess.

Her favourite nail enamel was spilled over and there was a messy shirt to clean but she ignored it all to keep up the spirit. “Don’t worry Drake. The Queen will be here any minute now, it’s time. Let’s quickly change your shirt. As she was helping him into fresh clothes, the doorbell jingled.

Eleanor walked in with Liam.  Savannah was the first to run up to her. She curtsied trying to balance over her wobbly feet. Eleanor picked up the tiny tot in her arms admiring, “Look at you! You are all grown up.”

“Dake dessed me.” Savannah stuttered.  Bianca rolled her eyes and Eleanor caught the gesture, understanding what must have conspired, looking at the makeup and the hairdo. Drake came ahead and bowed to Eleanor shyly.

“Here, here little guy. You did it all by yourself?” she asked him, putting Savannah back on her toes and giving Drake a warm hug. “Look at the hairstyle and the make up! You are good at this Drake. Isn’t she looking cute?” Drake blushed while Savannah twirled around with a glee . “May be some day I can have a little girl just like you!”

The last statement brought big expectant smile on Liam’s face. Bianca gave him a hug, “Bless your heart! Our little prince will love it!”

After everyone exchanged greetings, the ladies settled down for a chitchat while the brother and sister pulled Liam to show their Christmas tree.  

They enjoyed playing around it for some time and then decided to move to the playroom. Drake and Liam each held one of Savannah’s hands and walked with her slow pace as Eleanor watched them go. “Aww! They are so adorable!”

Drake pulled out the wooden blocks and the three of them sat together to make a castle. “Who weebe the king?” Savannah asked.

“Liam will be, Savvie. He is the prince.” Drake told her while Liam smiled at her acknowledging.

“Ann you Dekey?”

“I will be king’s guard, just like daddy.” Drake said with a puffed-up chest.

“Ann I?” Savannah questioned again to understand her role in the pretend play.

“You can be a Duchess!” Liam added.

“Wha do duchesh do?”

“She helps the king at his work.” Liam explained patiently.

Savannah was delighted and agreed to play her role. 

Their game continued till Bianca came in to take them for snacks.

“Momma, Eeaam made me duchesh!” She started telling her mother about their pretend play. Eleanor listened keenly. Liam and Drake exchanged shy looks. Being boys they preferred to keep their games to themselves.

 Bianca served them her traditional chili, Frito and tortillas. They all sat together and feasted over the delicacies. After munching the kolache for dessert, some more plans were made for the coming week and Christmas party.   

Soon, it was time for departure, and Savannah found it overwhelming to let go. Her big brown eyes were welled up as she hugged Liam and addressed the Queen, “Eeaam mama, I wan Eeaam play weeme!” Eleanor laughed at her sweet request.

Bianca picked up her little one and told her firmly, “Savannah Jane Walker! You do not say that. You say ‘Madam'.”

Eleanor ignored the formalities and cupped her cheeks, “Liam is going to go to the palace and set up a big Christmas tree for you. How about you visit us with your Momma and brother later?”

Savannah half-heartedly nodded.  Bianca put her down next to her brother, “Drake, can you take her to her room?”

“Yes mother.” Drake quickly bid farewell to his friend and walked his little sister, who was sobbing silently, to her room. Bianca saw her guests out. When she returned to the children’s room, she was treated with yet another sweet moment. Savannah had lay down with her head in Drake’s lap, her eyelids drooping. Bianca's little son was singing to her in his baby voice, “...Santa’s coming to town…

You better watch out; you better not cry.

Better not pout, I am telling u why.

He sees when you’re sleeping, he knows when you’re awake.

He knows when you’re bad or good so be good for goodness sake.”

She patiently waited for him to finish his verse and then walked in to hug him, “Oh punkin! I love you!”

She kissed him and then lifted almost asleep Savannah from his lap. She cuddled up with her kids humming ‘Santa comes to town'.

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[vfdarkness]

AVFD Script - S2EP03 The Forgotten Man

[[Intro]]

You’re at a bus stop and your bus is late.

Finally, it pulls up, you step aboard, and for a brief moment… 

the driver’s facial features - their eyes, nose, mouth are in all the wrong places. 

As you stare, their face quickly rearranges itself to appear more normal. More human.

The door closes. There’s no one else in the vehicle.

You need my help.

[[AVFD intro music kicks in]]

This is A Voice From Darkness.

[[AVFD intro music fades out]]

Hello, this is Dr. Malcolm Ryder, parapsychologist, here to help you with all problems paranormal, supernatural, and otherworldly. And we have a wonderful show planned for tonight. There’s two national alerts for the state of Florida - one for the panhandle, and another for the everglades. After we go over these we’ll explore one of the strangest roadside attractions in American history. And of course we’ll finish our show with the phone lines open so you, our listeners, can call-in. But first, let's get to our national alerts

[[National Alerts music starts]]

A sinkhole has appeared in the middle of Kelson Ave in Marianna, Florida. The hole’s depth is currently unknown however twenty feet down, stone carvings of faces appear. The carvings continue for as far down as anyone can tell. Each is unique yet is made to grotesquely express either the emotion of fear or that of delight. A spelunker descended into the hole to gather information about its depth. Two hours into his descent contact was lost and he was pulled out. When he resurfaced he was said to be in a daze. He removed his harness and immediately jumped back into the hole. Please be careful while driving on Kelson, Ave in Marianna, Florida. 

Our second national alert is for the Florida Everglades. The Singing has returned to the wetlands. All those in the area are advised to wear hearing protection for at least the next 72 hours or until otherwise instructed. The source of The Singing is unknown but is said to compel all who hear it to walk into the wetlands and be devoured by the creatures there-in. Again, please wear hearing protection if you’re within earshot of the Florida Everglades.

And that’s all we have for national alerts this evening. 

[[NA music fades out]]

Next up we have Today In Odd America, where we’ll discuss a manifestation that once haunted every corner of this land. And afterwards we’ll open the phone-lines.

[[Today In Odd America]]

Today in Odd America we find ourselves across the highways of our country. Forty four years ago today marks the last known visit to a roadside attraction commonly called The House of Narcissus. No physical evidence of this place exists. It was never found in the same location twice - yet hundreds of oral testimonies swear to its existence. Tonight I will cobble together disparate accounts from those who claim to have toured the fabled roadside museum. My hope is this will paint you a picture of what the experience was like for those who wound up touring a space dedicated completely to themselves. 

“I was driving down Route 8,” Maise Bridges stated to the Columbus Dispatch in 1955. “It was late and dark. No other cars were on the road. Then I saw it - a billboard illuminated by a single dim light that read: Know Thyself, Next Exit. No other words. But next to them, taking up the entirety of the right side was a painted picture - of me. Unmistakably me. Done in a sort of… Norman Rockwell style I suppose. I just… What was I supposed to do? Of course I took the next exit.” 

All descriptions of The House of Narcissus begin this way. A strange billboard on a lonely road, mere seconds to decide to take the exit or not. Oddly, there are few confirmed cases of those who saw the billboard and kept driving. It’s impossible to say if that says something overall about human nature or merely the people The House chose to manifest for.

“I was overwhelmed when I first drove up to the house,” Curtis Johnson said to the Louisville Times in 1948. “I’m not ashamed to admit it, but I might have cried a bit. I mean the place was just, just magnificent. Out there, in the middle of this grassy field, in the middle of nowhere there’s this small piece of heaven, you know? I didn’t feel like I was about to tour some cheap-o roadside scam where they show you a mannequin in a five dollar gorilla suit and tell you it’s Bigfoot. I felt like I was home. Of course I rushed right outta my car up to the door. Why wouldn’t I? I was home.”

Descriptions of the museum are typically left vague. Abstract. At least when describing the exterior. Visitors will speak of the joy they felt upon seeing the house. Often they’ll say a sense of nostalgia or homecoming overwhelmed them. However no one was ever able to give a single concrete detail of what The House looked like. How many stories were there? What color was the siding? What the house looks like remains a mystery to this day. But there’s much agreement about its interior. At least in some respects.

“There’re no employees, no turnstyle to go through, nothing like a museum or roadside attraction typically has. You just go in the front door, and you’re suddenly there - in the first room. It’s filled with photographs along the walls. They were all of my family, friends, neighbors, teachers, former classmates, folks from my church, employers, co-workers. People I might have talked to only once in passing. None of these were photos I took or remember anyone else ever taking. None are in any photo album I own,” said Judge Michael Harvester in 1972, when he called into the KIRT radio station of Olympia, Washington. 

The Photo Gallery is always the first room visitors find themselves in. Under each photo is a brass plaque, on which a single sentence is etched: the last words said by whomever is touring the house to the person featured in the photograph.

Even this first room can be disarming to a visitor. As Judge Harvester said: “You don’t realize how many people you speak to, thinking you’ll do so again, but then never do. It adds up over a life. It really does. I didn’t look at all the pictures, or read all the plaques. I had to stop after awhile. I saw one in particular… the last words I said to an old neighbor of mine, lived a few houses away from the place I bought right after law school. Me, him, and some of the guys down the block would get together to play poker twice a month. Last thing I said to him, ‘I’ll see you in a few weeks.’ I don’t remember what happened after that. I guess the poker game fell apart. I don’t think either of us moved, I don’t remember us getting into any fights. But I never spoke to him again. And that’s just one example. People like to call that first room the photo gallery, and that makes sense, I guess. But that’s not what it is. It’s a monument. A monument to lost relationships.”

Most visitors to The House expressed regret coming there at all after visiting this first room. Unfortunately, the way they entered disappears after entry - replaced by a wall filled with photographs. Once you enter, The House forces you to continue through the rooms. That is, if you wish to leave.

“The second room was a full scale replica of my childhood home,” said Sara Lopez to the San Diego Tribune in 1966. “All five rooms of our house back on Balboa Avenue. “I went through the cabinets in the kitchen. The dishes… they were identical to ones we had. There were these little hand drawn designs on them. They’re abstract, hard to describe, but the plates in that museum. They matched perfectly how I remembered them. It was impossible.” Most statements regarding the second room share similar amazement at the level of detail on even the most insignificant items - stains on the carpet, entryways scuffed and dirty from children’s shoes. “What really got me about the second room, “Sara Lopez said, “were the smells. The kitchen had this overwhelming odor of garlic and cumin, spices my mother put in everything. The carpet near the entryway smelled like wet dog. Our lab, Daisy, would run through our neighbors sprinkler then come inside, right to that patch of carpet, and roll around. Little things like that, I’d forgotten about completely. Hadn’t thought of in years, but suddenly a million memories came rushing back to me.”

The average visitor reported spending somewhere between four to five hours in The House of Narcissus. There were outliers of course, in both directions. Some, after seeing the photo gallery, ran through the other rooms without lingering. Others claimed to have spent days and only left when they were near dehydration.

There are dozens of other rooms in The House. Too many to go over tonight. But I’ll end by stating what’s in the only obligatory room, the last room. The room with the only way out.

At the very end of a long hallway is a plain wooden door with a small sign above that reads: What if…

Inside is a small movie theatre. There’s a single red cushioned seat in the room with the perfect view of a small screen. To the right of the screen is a door with an exit sign above. The door will not open unless the visitor sits down in the chair and watches, truly watches and listens, to the film that plays in that small theatre.

“On the day of what was supposed to be my wedding I called my best friend - my bridesmaid. I cried and I gave her the awful job of telling my husband-to-be I’d changed my mind,” said Tonya Blanton to the Sante Fe Dispatch in 1958. “I was living in Minneapolis at the time. Born there, was to be married there, figured I’d die there eventually too. I don’t know what overcame me. But I got in my car and drove. Found myself in New Mexico and started a new life. My parents were furious. And I never spoke to the man who was to be my husband ever again. He sent me a letter when I’d settled in Santa Fe. I wasn’t brave enough to open it. But in that last room. In that last room of that awful house - a film played. It showed what my life would have been had I stayed in Minneapolis. I won’t… I won’t say what all I saw. What all I missed out on. All I’ll say is I know I made the wrong choice. I’ve thought about that every single day since visiting that terrible place.”

Tonya Blanton is not a unique case. Chicago journalist Studs Terkel in his book The American Road: An Oral History devoted a chapter to The House of Narcissus. He conducted over twenty interviews with those who'd toured the roadside wonder. When asked if they could change places and live the life they saw in that last room - would they? Every person he interviewed said they would.

The House of Narcissus only existed for some sixty odd years. The last known visit occurred in 1977, outside of Spring Green, Wisconsin. “People say I must’ve burned the place down or something,” Buddy Palmer, the last recognized visitor, said to the Madison Gazette in 1980. “I didn’t, I swear,” he went on, “but if I had some matches and kerosene on me, would I of? Sure thing. No one should ever be forced to watch the movie that plays in that last room. I’ll think of that picture the rest of my life. I’ll know I messed up early on and I’m not living my best, happiest life. You know how hard it is to get out of the bed in the morning with that hanging over you? Sometimes that movie plays in my dreams. I usually gotta call in sick to work the next day when it does. I just can’t stop thinking about it. The rest of the place too… it’s just... Just too much.”

For those of you listening to this while driving alone, rest assured, you’re unlikely to see a billboard with your own face staring back at you and the words: Know Thyself, Next Exit. But in the rare chance such an event occurs, please consider my advice: don’t take that exit. Just keep driving. There are some truths about ourselves perhaps better left unexplored.

And now back to our main show.

[[TIOA music fades out]]

​​ACT II

RYDER

And we're back and we already have a caller on the line. Why don't you tell us your name and the nature of your supernatural problem.

RENE

Hello, Malcolm. I was wondering if we'd ever get the chance to speak again.

RYDER

(uncertain)

I don't recognize your voice. Have you called into the show before?

RENE

A few times, yes. And we met once or twice in person.

A beat.

RYDER

Who is this?

RENE

My name is Rene Dupont. And though I've explained this to you before, I will kindly do so again. I exist with a peculiar condition. People can rarely retain memories of me. Not in any form. As this conversation gets to a certain point, I'll begin to vanish from your mind as well as most of your listeners. If you try to write down anything about me during this call, you'll likely only produce gibberish or the vaguest of details.

RYDER

I've read case studies of similar situations. There was a man in Utah-

RENE

(interrupts)

Yes, yes.

Nathaniel Cotwell who lived in a small town that couldn't create new memories of him past the age of eight. And so as an adult they'd still treat him as if he were a young boy. You studied him and Sarah Pullman of Butte, Montana who went missing one night in the woods. When she found her way home again, her family had completely forgotten her.

A beat.

RENE

The few times we've spoken, you've wished to demonstrate knowledge of people who've existed with Memory-related ailments and those are your two most common examples.

RYDER

It seems we have spoken before. Mr. Dupont-

RENE

Please, call me Rene. No need for formalities. We're old acquaintances after all.

RYDER

Yes. Of course. And why have you called into the show tonight, Rene?

RENE

There's been a man following me. Repeatedly.

A beat.

RYDER

(realizing what he means)

And of course that's a difficult task to accomplish, as it's so hard to remember you.

RENE

You're correct. I am Anonymity Incarnate. But there's a man in a grey suit who seems to have found my scent. A further detail about him: he's missing one of his fingers. I'll let you guess which.

RYDER

Why is The Traveling Salesman after you?

RENE

I called you in search of an answer to that very question.

RYDER

In all likelihood he wishes to strike a deal with you. That's why he seeks anyone out. That, or to kill them.

RENE

Let's assume the former for the moment: what sort of deal would he want to make with me?

RYDER

I have no idea. Perhaps he needs information from someone. But he doesn't want this person to know they've given their secrets up. I imagine with your talent that's something you'd be good at.

RENE

Before the wall was destroyed in '89 I was employed on both sides doing something akin to what you just suggested.

A beat.

RYDER

Then that might be what he wants. Or perhaps something more... metaphysical.

RENE

Such as?

RYDER

Your ability to be forgotten. Julian already has some power over memory, but not that.

RENE

Could he really take that from me?

RYDER

Not take. Trade. The Salesman doesn't steal, Rene, but his deals are often one-sided, exploitive, as he'll neglect to tell you pertent information before you agree.

RENE

So he wouldn't really be taking something from me so much as he'd be giving me the gift of being able to be remembered.

A beat.

RYDER

That's a dangerous way of viewing such a deal.

RENE

Dangerous for you, perhaps, but of great advantage to me.

RYDER

It would be dangerous for the whole country for The Traveling Salesman to be easily forgotten. One of the few weapons we have against him are the memories of devastation he's brought about by the deals he's made. The only reason anyone ever turns him down is because his reputation precedes him. Take that away-

RENE

(interrupts)

I have the means and resources to go to many other countries. Julian Holloway can have this one.

RYDER

You'd potentially sacrifice hundreds of millions of people to-

RENE

(interrupts)

To be remembered. And yes, I would. This "talent" of mine came to me when I was young. For most my life I've been unable to have a meaningful relationship with another human being.

To even have an extended conversation. What's my name?

RYDER

Rene...

Malcolm searches his mind for the surname.

RYDER

Rene Dupont.

RENE

You're close to forgetting already, Malcolm Ryder.

A beat.

RENE

If I made a deal with your friend for him to take this power away, you'd never even know.

RYDER

The Traveling Salesman is not my friend.

RENE

If your former friend might help me where no one else could before, including yourself, then I would take him up on his offer.

RYDER

That is if he even wants to help you. He could be searching for you, as I already said, to kill you.

RENE

And why would that be his objective?

RYDER

There are limitations to his power. I don't fully know what they are, but I know they exist.

RENE

Again I ask, why would this necessitate him wanting me dead?

RYDER

Because you possess power in one of his realms - Memory and Dream. And if you have more power than he does, and if he can't use you, or your power, towards his own ends, he'll want you dead. You're a liability otherwise.

A beat.

RENE

You're bluffing. Trying to stoke fear in me so I stay away from him. So I can't make a deal. If what you said was true, your friend Charlotte Price would be dead.

RYDER

Charlotte has found ways to take care of herself. She's forged alliances with things even Julian fears. Have you done the same?

A beat.

RENE

What you're telling me is that I need leverage before I allow Julian Holloway to try and offer a deal to me.

RYDER

That's not what I'm saying at all. Under no circumstances should you attempt to make any deal with him.

RENE

That's not what I took away from this conversation. Thank you so much, Malcolm. As always, you've been helpful.

RYDER

No, wait-

Dial tone.

A long pause.

RYDER

There was someone on the line just now. I swear there was.

I have notes I made, most are illegible which isn't like me. Of what I can read: Shadow, Mirror, Flesh, Spirit, and Dream. I tried to write Memory but it seems my hand was unable to. Odd...

A beat.

RYDER

I think we'll end the show there tonight. I'd like to play back the recording of the past several minutes. See if I can see what I'm missing.

A beat.

RYDER

But if you're experiencing anything supernatural, paranormal, or otherworldly, please feel free to call in next time on A Voice From Darkness.

[[AVFD outro music fades in and out.]]

[teethhunter]

Better than a Dream

Rosegarden Secret Santa Gift for @jealouscartoonist  based of their Cinderella AU

The kingdom was absolutely bustling with news of the Grand Ball.

Rumor had it that this event was to find a proper suitor for the Crown Prince, Oscar.

It was to be the largest event of the decade, more open  to the public than many events but also with many important and influential people planning to come. There was much talk of the preparations happening at the palace in the weeks leading up to the event as even those with no plans or no means to attend enjoyed participating in the excitement.

Many were sent into a tizzy of daydreams of meeting the love of their life at the ball. With all that talk about the prince those daydreams tended to prominently feature him. For some the daydreams morphed into full on scheming and for others they remained fun fantasies that filled the streets with quiet whispers and giggles of just how romantic it would be to get a moment alone with such a charming and handsome prince.

The rumors, however fun, were patently false.

Yes this was to be an event of massive proportions and King Ozpin certainly hoped that a few people might find a spark of romance for themselves that night but he wasn’t doing this to marry off his adoptive son to the first or most enthusiastic party-goer who made a move.

“Just because that wasn’t what you meant to do, doesn’t mean they won’t try.” Oscar pointed out, voicing his anxieties as the day of the ball grew closer.

“Ah but that’s just part of the fun!” Ozpin replied, a far too pleased look on his face.

“Fun for you maybe…”

“And fun for everyone else too. They are making their own fairytales that prominently feature themselves. The human imagination is a wonderful thing.”

Oscar sighed, he should have known that a chat with Ozpin wouldn’t exactly quell his fears in a normal way but it did sort of help even so, just a little bit. “You’re sure I have to go?”

“You’ve never had a miserable time at a party thus far. You can see your friends, maybe meet someone new… Just try to celebrate with everyone.”

In this kingdom still bustling about a ball lived a beautiful girl named Ruby Rose.

Ruby had never been to a ball. In fact Ruby couldn’t at all recall attending a party where she didn’t have to do all the prep work and clean up, only getting scraps of the food that was served.

She lived in a lovely house with her stepmother Salem, and her two stepsisters, Cinder and Neo. Despite the high status of the family and the fact that they could more than afford to hire servants, Salem treated Ruby as nothing but a scullery maid herself. She made Ruby do all the work around the house while Cinder and Neo did seemingly everything they could to make it more difficult. Cinder was more direct in her ways of showing disdain, she would make huge messes right when Ruby had something important to do,or she would burn Ruby’s possessions for fun. Neo was more subtle, waiting until no one was looking to set up situations that would frame Ruby as having messed up. Putting bleach into the wash with the dark clothing Ruby was cleaning, or slipping an ingredient someone in the family was mildly allergic to into a meal Ruby was preparing.

Ruby had grown rather numb to all their antics after dealing with them for so long.

The step family was of course planning on going to the ball and all the talk of the prince looking to find a suitor had certainly gotten back to them. For the last month Salem had been coaching Cinder in this elaborate scheme to catch the prince’s attention, ensuring that they had planned down to the last little detail.

Ruby thought it all a little silly because no matter how much they planned there was always a change that Cinder wouldn’t run into the prince at all, or he wouldn’t like her if he did meet her, maybe even see through that thin veneer of faked kindness to how cruel Cinder could actually be.

None of that was Ruby’s problem though and she had the sense to not voice any of these opinions. She had other things on her mind.

For the first time in her life she was going to go to a ball. Salem had given permission (however offhandedly, it was still a yes!).

For years, during her limited free time she would work at Pietro’s mechanic shop in town to earn money. She had a certain talent for weapon repairs which were nearly always a necessity for anyone traveling outside the city limits where beasts and bandits lurked.

Most of the money she earned at this job was tucked away to someday move far away from her stepfamily but for the last few months she had saved up the money and bought herself a lovely dress. The style of it might have been a bit unconventional- particularly when in combination with the boots she was planning to wear with it- but the fabric was silky to the touch and a deep red color and trimmed with an intricate lace at the hem. She was incredibly proud to have this tangible proof of the work she had put in to get to this point.

The morning before the ball, Ruby woke up early to go to the market to do the grocery shopping. She knew if she wanted time to get ready she would have to get all of her chores done as quickly as possible because here was always a chance Salem would add new tasks to the list.

The excitement in the air was palpable everywhere she went. It was the only thing anyone around was talking about it seemed. Normally Ruby was happy to talk idly with the owners of the various food stalls but today she just nodded along politely as she filled her basket, not lingering for the chit-chat.

Ruby arrived home, basket heavy with produce heavy on her arm, with plenty of time to complete the rest of her chores. She put away all the food and went immediately to cleaning. She took extra care to avoid her step family as Salem was already getting the girls dressed up and ready meaning they would all probably be looking to take their anxiety out on her.

By early afternoon Ruby has finished up and finally can retire to her room to rest and get ready. Her room was in the cellar, not much larger than a closet. It could get cold and damp in there during the winter and after downpours of rain though right now it was pleasantly cool compared to the hot summer weather.

She had done a lot to make it cozy and comfortable. Every inch of wall was decorated, her bed piled up with blankets, and her shelf lined with books she bought over the years from a thrift store in town.

When Ruby opened the door to her room she saw something that made her blood run cold. Cinder, perfectly dressed up and ready for the ball, perching on the end of her bed, holding Ruby’s dress.

Cinder smirked with an awful twist to her lips when she saw Ruby, like she was laying in wait for this moment, a lit candle held in one hand.

The dress had been hidden at the back of her closet so there was no way Cinder just tumbled on it.

“I thought you were joking about going to the ball. You can’t be serious.” Cinder said with a mock laugh.

“No… I wasn’t joking.” Ruby’s voice already held a hint of defeat, already knowing where this was going to go.

“Do you seriously think anyone there would be interested in /you/?” Disgust radiated from Cinder in those words.

“That’s not why I-” Ruby was cut off before she could finish her sentence.

“And this dress.   You’ll be turned away at the door for wearing something so low class.” Cinder held the dress up as if appraising it for it’s every flaw, as if it was too hideous to look at for too long.

“I…” That hurt more than it should for how many insulting things Cinder had said to her over the years. She had grown a rather thick skin about it but this dress was really important to her.

“Really, dear sister, I should save you from the embarrassment. You could tarnish our family name.” Cinder brought the candle up until the flame of it licked the lace trim, making it curl, then crisp, then catch fire.

“Please stop.” Ruby whispers, knowing it was useless, she knew what was about to happen the moment she saw Cinder in here.

It didn’t completely catch fire, put a few flames eat at the edges and creep up the bottom of the skirt, leaving it a mess of holes and ash.  Cinder says nothing else to her, simply unceremoniously dropping the dress in a pile on the ground, stepping on it as if to put out a still burning ember on her way out.

~~~~~

Ruby waited until the last of the burning embers died down before picking the dress up and bundling it in her lap as she sat on her bed. She sat frozen like that in silence, her ears ringing as she tried to bite back tears. There was no way she could mend this in time for the ball. She couldn’t afford to get new fabric even if she had the time.

All she had wanted was to share this one special night with everyone who was so excited about it but that was ruined.

“I wish I didn’t live with these awful people.” She muttered to herself. “I wish they would just disappear.” She took a breath and all at once any anger she held just deflated into grief as tears finally spilled. “No… I just wish I could go to this ball.”

In her mind she had held this event as a moment of defiant freedom, that if she could never escape Salem and she lived the rest of her life like this then at least she got this one wonderful moment.

“You called?” A voice broke the silence, startling Ruby so badly she nearly fell off the bed.

In front of her was a familiar man- er Fairy, technically. He stood in proper Fairy Godmother attire, a clearly enchanted black dress with translucent red fairy wings fluttering behind him. In contrast with the traditional look was his much less conventional scythe-style magic wand at his side and the full martini glass held precariously in his hand.

“Oh! …. You.” Ruby sighed in relief as she got her bearings after being so startled.

“Well don’t go sounding too thrilled about seeing your Fairy Godmother kiddo. You summoned me, remember?” He put on the airs of being dramatically offended though his smile told a different story.

Ruby wiped the lingering tears from her eyes before she spoke. “No it’s… sorry, it’s good to see you actually Qrow.”

In all honesty she had almost forgotten that wishing for things summoned him. She didn’t exactly even know why that happened. When she asked before all she got was a shrug from Qrow and some half-excuses about the ‘mysterious ways of magic’.

It had been a long time since she’d wished for anything actually. Her memories of her childhood were blurry at best but she could vaguely recall how she’d make all sorts of silly wishes just to have him come visit. He was odd and always a little tipsy but he was also so much nicer than her step-family that it made her earlier years with them much more tolerable.

“I didn’t actually mean to call you, it was sort of an accident.” She admitted after a moment.

“Hmm, well even if it was an accident, I’m here now so why don’t you tell an ‘ol Qrow your woes. Looks like you’ve had a rough time of it.” He walked with a strut in his step over the small distance to her bed, sitting down next to her. He took a long drink from his seemingly never emptying glass as he waited for her to talk.

Ruby started and stopped her attempts to explain several times before she got all the words out, still stumbling over herself. She gave more detail than could possibly ever be needed but this was the first time in a long time she ever let all these emotions out. She had friends in town but she never ever let any of them know the cruelty of her ‘family’. Her Fairy Godmother already knew of these things so for once it was safe.

She began to cry again as her words flowed. Qrow was content to listen in his somewhat drunkenly glazed over state.

“-and now I can’t go because my dress is ruined and it’s not like I have anything else I could wear and the ball is in just a few hours and I’m never going to get a chance like this again.”

Ruby finally took a pause and Qrow chuckled.

“Well if it’s only an outfit you need then I can fix you up fine.”  

“Wait, really?” It hadn’t actually crossed her mind that he could help with that..

“Yeah that’s what I’m here for. Mmm, but there’s limits to it, I think you remember that.” Qrow said, fiddling with is scythe-wand as he got ready to do some magic.

Yes Ruby remembered there were limits, there were always strange caveats to any wish she made but right now she could barely bother to care. “Okay! That’s fine, I don’t mind as long as I get to go. Wait um what are the limits?” “It’ll wear off at the stroke of midnight. Indefinite magic gives the worst sort of headache to do.”

“Are you sure that’s not just a hangover?” Ruby mumbed, being immediately met with a shove and grumble from Qrow.

“Shush you. No sassing your godmother. Magic works in mysterious ways.

Speaking of which, magicking you up might make you a little harder to recognize.  Not that you’ll look different, just a side effect of illusionary magic.”

Ruby nodded along, none of those terms sounded awful and now she was just in a rush to make it happen.  “Okay goes away at midnight and I’m sorta in disguise, I can handle that.”

“Great, go put that dress on then and I’ll get you all set. Best to work from a base product to build onto y’know.”

`

“Get out of my room then please?” Ruby started ushering him out of her room so she could have space to change.

“M’kay, I’ll wait outside.” He swayed as he walked out of the room, leaning against the wall in the hall as she got ready.

Ruby carefully slipped the dress on, as if trying to prevent it from crumbling more than it already had. Dark ash smeared her skin as the burnt bits brushed against her. She put her boots and accessories on to finish the look. One glance at her small, cracked mirror had her frowning. She looked absolutely ridiculous. It took her longer than it should have to build back up the confidence to call Qrow back in but eventually she did.

“Oh good, you’re all ready.” Qrow came to stand beside her. “Time for the magic words, you know the drill.” He lazily waved his scythe-wand over her head while in a dramatic and slurred fashion exclaiming “Bippity boppity boo!”

Ruby could feel the hum of magic before she could see it. The dress seemingly mended itself all at once, fitting even better than before. She was so captivated by how well it worked that she did notice the other alterations until she took a step and immediately lost her balance, sticking her arms out to keep herself from falling. Her nice practical knee high boots were now sparkling ruby red heeled shoes.

“Why did you give me stilts to walk on?” She asked, still trying to keep herself upright.

“Isn’t that just what people wear to these things?” Qrow shrugged, completely unbothered.

“I’m going to trip and die before I get there.” Ruby commented half to herself, but she didn’t want to be ungrateful and he had done something wonderful for her.

“Thank you for this.” She eventually added.

“Yeah yeah, any time. I’d love to stick around but I do have things to do, places to be. So go enjoy that ball, don’t do anything I wouldn’t do.” He said, seemingly uncomfortable with the appreciation and in a rush to escape it, he disappeared in a blink.

Ruby walks the length of her room several times, trying to get a hang of walking in these shoes.

She didn’t dare leave her room until she was certain her step family had already left for the ball because she dreadd what Cinder might do if she saw Ruby all dressed up- or worse what Salem might do.

~~~~

When finally she is sure it is safe to leave, she heads out immediately to the palace.

The ball was in full motion when she arrived. It’s the most beautiful thing she has ever seen with people laughing, drinking, and dancing the night away to beautiful music performed by a live orchestra. There were tables filled with the most luxurious snacks and servants going around to cater to guests as well. There were of course guards posted around but even they seemed to be enjoying themselves. Ruby was a bit out of sort, unsure what to do with herself but more than content to just take it all in.

She has been seated in a quieter corner, enjoying some snacks when a man sidles up next to her to start a conversation which leads into asking her to dance. She politely declined but this repeated itself once again with an entirety different and more persistent lad who was determined to dance with her. She wouldn’t be able to dance in these silly shoes even if she knew how to or wanted to so she less than politely bid him farewell and walked away, trying to find somewhere she won’t be pestered.

She weaved through the crowds, paying little attention to who was there. It was during this escape that she stumbled terribly, instinctually grabbing at something to keep herself from falling on her face. The tearing sound of fabric was audible as she realized she grabbed the sleeve of some woman’s dress. The horrified screech from that woman was what made her realize the person she had grabbed was none other than Cinder.

Ruby stole a glance at the scene, Cinder having clearly been mid-conversation, now with a torn sleeve and wine covering her whole front from a glass that had been jostled.

Ruby quickly ducked her head, hiding her face, planning how to escape, praying that Cinder hadn’t noticed who she was. As it turned out, an escape plan was unnecessary as Cinder stormed off and away from all the prying eyes watching this scene play out.

Ruby stayed knelt there, stewing in her own mortification, wishing in her head to just disappear.  

“Hey, are you okay?” Someone asked, bending down and offering her a hand up.

“I’m… fi- fine?” Her voice cracked mid word as she took his offered hand and finally got a proper look at him. Her gaze sliding from his face to the circlet on his head. Without that, she would have no clue who he was, she had never seen the prince before after all.

She had made no move to stand yet but Prince Oscar had also made no move to help her up either. They were frozen like this, hand held, staring at each other.

For Ruby it was the shock of meeting the prince and him kindly trying to help her (and he was as pleasant looking as everyone said).

For Oscar it was because when his eyes met her he was utterly and inexplicably captivated. His heart skipped a long beat and he couldn’t seem to look away.  

In the same instant they both snapped out of it. Oscar helped her up in one swift motion, completely red in the face as he processed just how long he’d been staring at her.

“I’m-” Ruby was instantly interrupted.

“No I’m-” Oscar tried to say.

“Sorry” “Sorry.”

They said in the same moment, looking down and away from each other.

They fumbled over each other’s apologies for another moment and finally got the courage to look at each other again. Another pause, just for a breath and they both laugh.

“It’s not a big deal. If I’m being honest you sort of saved me there? I had been trying to get out of that conversation for a while and that definitely took care of it.” Oscar explained, rubbing the back of his neck as he confessed that.

Ruby held in another laugh, it would be very difficult to explain just how funny this situation was to her personally. “Well I’m happy to be a help?”

She shifted uncomfortably from foot to foot as she was quickly becoming acutely aware of just how many people were still watching them. “I should probably go do- do something else, something ball related, you know.”

She turned away and tried to disappear into the crowd, headed outside to get some fresh air. “Wait!” Oscar called but she didn’t seem to hear him. There wasn’t a thought in his head as he followed right after her out to one of the balconies. It was quiet out there and a major relief for him to have a break from people constantly wanting something from him.

When she noticed him approaching he flustered again, he had no reasonable explanation for why he followed her other than this undercurrent need to get to know her.

“Are you enjoying the ball?” He asked, internally cursing himself for such a bland introduction.

Ruby was more at ease without so many people around. Even if it was a little nerve racking to be speaking to someone so important, she was somehow less on edge than when anyone else at the ball had approached her. “I don’t really have anything to compare it with but it’s sort of amazing?” It was true, it was all so grand and amazing, even if she did have to dodge a couple of people it was still one the most incredible things she’d ever been a part of.

“Oh, so it’s your first time attending a ball then? I’m glad it’s been good.”

“Yeah I mean, all the books I loved when I was little had castles and grand balls in them and I never thought it would actually be like those stories. Turns out yeah it really is.”  Ruby took a seat on the bench to finally get off her feet.

“I loved those sorts of stories growing up too. I guess it’s weird now to think about how people dream of becoming royalty, being a prince or princess. I went from living on a farm to being adopted into this and then those stories were less fun to read.” He hadn’t really read any books like that since he moved into the palace, now that he thought about it. They all lost their charm.

“I always wanted to be a knight in those stories actually.” Ruby admitted.

“Oh really?” Somehow that didn’t seem surprising at all, he had known her for no more than a few minutes but there was a certain spark to her that made that so believable.

“Yeah I just loved the idea of protecting people that can’t protect themselves, y’know?”

“Remind me to introduce you to the castle guards sometime, I really think you’d like them.” Oscar noted. “But that’s a really nice dream you have though. I think sometimes imagining things is more fun than the reality of it? I’m very lucky to be in this position but living it made dreams of it more dull...I’m sorry I’m rambling!”  

Ruby covered her mouth to conceal a grin. “No, it’s fine. I know what you mean but I want to believe that sometimes reality can be even better than dreams if it’s the right reality for you.”

“That’s- hm I think I’d like to believe that too.” Oscar mumbled, leaving them sitting in comfortable silence side by side for a long moment.

“Would you like to go back inside and dance?” He eventually asked, worried she might grow bored with him otherwise.

Ruby shook her head immediately “Oh please no! I mean I’d love to but… erm you saw me trip back there, I don’t really want to have a repeat performance.”

“Okay then do you want to go on a walk?” Oscar just didn’t want to leave her side, not yet.

“That would be nice actually.” Ruby didn’t particularly want to end their conversation either.

Like a proper gentleman, Oscar offered her his arm to link together which abated any of her lingering anxiety about tripping again.

Oscar led her through a quieter path out of the castle and out along a cobble pathway that snaked around the rear courtyards and into the gardens. Lit only by the moonlight it was gorgeous, overflowing with different flowers and vines covering every surface other than the path itself. Their evening was filled with conversation, once past the initial awkwardness they slipped into comfortably chatting about all sorts of meaningless things.

Time had melted away for the both of them.

That was, until the gonging sound of the clock tower atop the castle interrupted Ruby mid sentence.

She went pale.

“I have to go.” She said, pulling away from him. She could already feel the magic beginning to fade as she hurried away.

“Wait come back!” Oscar held a hand out like he wanted to stop her, like he hoped she would listen and turn around for even a moment.

Just before she was out of Oscar’s view she stumbled once more, the heel of one of the slippers getting caught between two stones in the path.

Oscar flinched, taking one step forward. “Oh, are you okay?”

She didn’t have time to waste and she hated these stupid shoes anyways so she just slid her foot out of it and kept on running.

Ruby was well on her way out when Oscar stooped down to pick up her shoe. The clock had struck midnight and that slipper had reverted back to its old form as a boot. “You left your...boot?” He muttered to himself in complete confusion as he stared at it.

Ruby’s dress was back to it’s charred state by the time she had left the palace property. She hobbled her way home with one boot and one foot with nothing more than a sock on it.

Sneaking back inside her home went better than she was expecting. She was able to get to her room and change out of the ruined dress without anyone seeing her. None of that stopped Cinder from being in a foul mood and barging demanding Ruby draw her a bath. This time Ruby couldn’t even claim that Cinder’s mood wasn’t her fault, even if Cinder wasn’t aware that it was Ruby who had interrupted her plans.

~~~

The morning after the ball Oscar sulked through breakfast. He just couldn’t get his mind off the girl he had spoken with at the ball.

Four of his guards who were more just friends of his than anything else often joined him for meals when there was no formal gathering in place. Today was no different but there was a certain tension in the air.

“Soooo, how was the ball?” One of his guards, Nora asked, breaking the silence with a smile that told him she was already perfectly aware of how it went. “It was fine. It was a ball.” Oscar answered blandly, still staring at his food that he pushed around on his plate.

“Just fine? Hmm well I heard you disappeared with some pretty girl and didn’t show back up all night.”  Nora pressed more, leaning in with an intense expression like she was rearing for a full interrogation. Ren put a hand on her shoulder to try and rein her in.

“Oh you met someone?” Jaune asked and Oscar genuinely couldn’t tell if he was teasing or if he was completely out of the loop. “What’s her name?”

Oscar shrunk in on himself with a quiet sigh.“I don’t know, I didn’t ask.”

“Wait wait wait, you spend all night with this girl and you don’t even ask her name? How are you going to find her again?” Pure horror present in Nora’s voice as she asked that.

“I guess I probably won’t.” Oscar said like he was trying to come to terms with that himself.

“If you are meant to meet again, I think your paths will cross.” Pyrrha chimed in right as Oscar was getting ready to leave the table.

The entire day following Oscar felt like he was in a daze. He couldn’t concentrate for any of his lessons, which got him scolded by one of his etiquette teacher, Glynda, and told to leave early since he clearly ‘had his head in the clouds’.

Even King Ozpin commenced on it in passing with that odd smile on his face that always irked Oscar just a little bit.

When he finally had enough of all the ‘knowing’ comments and teasing he dug out his commoner clothes from his closet and slipped them on. He used to sneak out much more often because sometimes he missed being looked at like a normal person. He hadn’t done this in a while and the clothes didn’t quite fit anymore but he really needed some space.

Oscar wandered aimlessly through the maze of streets in the city surrounding the palace. For the first time all day he felt relaxed as he blended into the crowd with on stares or comments. There was always the slightest bit of tension he held from always having to perform in a princely manner, but here no one expected anything of him.

He was window shopping at an antique store when someone passing by catches his eye.

Maybe Pyrrha’s comment about paths crossing if they were meant to wasn’t so silly because he sees this girl and his brain goes completely fuzzy like it was trying to piece things together while his heart skips in a way that’s becoming very familiar to him.

“Hey wait!” He called out, jogging to catch up with her, not paying mind to how odd this might seem to bystanders.

Ruby doesn’t immediately realize it’s her that’s being called out to. Not until he catches up to her. She started, stopping mid-stride to look at him. Despite his change of clothes she recognized him immediately. She was nervous and happy and confused all at the same time. She never thought she’d see him again and didn’t think he would care to talk to her again either.

“Oh, I didn’t mean to scare you. I guess that was pretty weird to do.” Oscar said apologetically, realizing this was the second time in a row they had an awkward greeting.

“No, no it’s okay I just wasn’t expecting to see you again!” Ruby explained, unsure what to say or do now. “Do you come around here often?” She asked, just to fill the silence.

“Sometimes it’s just nice to be able to take a walk without people staring, you know?” Oscar answered, genuinely thrilled to talk to her about literally anything right now.

“Won’t people recognize you?” Ruby thought he was fairly recognizable, but then again she also had a whole night to take in the details about him.

“Well no one has so far, I think when people aren’t expecting to see me I sort of blend into the background.” The only person to recognize him thus far was her, but that was because he came running up to her so obviously.

“You weren’t expecting to see me but I didn’t blend into the background for you.”

“Oh it’s your eyes…” Oscar tapered off quickly, not wanting to admit that he’d been subconsciously scanning the crowd every moment he was out, hoping to run into her again.

“Hey, have you eaten lunch yet?” He changed the subject abruptly.

“I haven’t but-”

“Well, would you care to join me? There’s this little bakery I love around here.”

Ruby was anxious both because the longer the less chores she was getting done but also because she didn’t have the money on her to pay for lunch. But he looked so bright eyed and hopeful and that smile was killing her.

“I can’t be out for too long, but okay.” She answered finally.

“Really? Great!” Oscar was nearly bouncing on his feet as he offered her his arm reflexively, an overly formal gesture but sweet nonetheless.

Ruby laughed quietly but took his arm, ignoring the couple odd glances they earned.

Oscar led the way to this small corner shop filled to the brim with various baked goods. The sweet scent made her mouth water. She looked at all the different offerings as Oscar chatted with the old lady running the place, listing off the pastries he wanted to get.

He turned to Ruby after a moment and asked “What would you like?”

It hadn’t occurred to her that he was offering to pay for her until then, she didn’t have the money on her to actually buy anything so she was planning on just quietly not ordering anything.

She paused, internally scrambling to make a decision. “One of these?” She pointed to a flaky chocolate croissant that had caught her eye earlier. He picked up on her hesitance quickly and ordered both that and a couple of his personal favorites for her to try.

Once they gather up all their pastries they sit at the one small round table next to the window, settling down.

“ Okay, weird question but it’s been killing me ever since I last saw you.” Oscar asked.

Ruby nodded, giving permission for him to go ahead and ask.

“How do I phrase this,,,,When you left, you dropped your boot? But you definitely weren’t wearing a boot before that?”

Ruby blinked at him then laughed. “Yeah I get why you’d be thinking about htat for so long. It’s well, it was magic? And no I’m not joking! I really mean it.”

At first Oscar gave a slightly doubtful look but she seemed so genuine and there was no other good explanation either. “You know someone that can use magic then? Wow that’s pretty rare nowadays.”

There were traces of magic, some people were born with minor magical abilities and there were healers that cultivated that particular skill but it was rare to have someone perform magic for something like this.

“Yeah I’ve known him for my whole life I guess. Kinda an odd guy but also he’s always been there or me so I guess I can’t complain.”

With that they fell into easy conversation once again and once again time slipped away.

Until she was abruptly brought back to reality from a comment by the old lady running the shop.

“Are you two planning to just honeymoon it here or what? We’re losing daylight!” She asked, halfway between amused and annoyed at the two lovebirds.

Ruby froze, glancing out the window to note that indeed the sun was going down.

“Oh no, I have to go.” She should’ve already been working on dinner and none of her other chores were done yet, scrubbing the floors always was so time consuming.

She was out the door before he could even call out to her, almost impossibly quickly.

“I didn’t even ask you your name. Oscar grumbles as he buries his face against the cafe table.

~~~~

Quite predictably Ruby was immediately scolded when she arrived home. She hadn’t washed Neo’s clothes in time and all her other chores were left to do too. She had to work far into the night without dinner to get it all done, though she wasn’t too bothered after having a lovely lunch with Oscar. She figured that would be the last time she saw him, that fate decided to give her that nice little bit of closure with him, one nice happy moment she could think about as her knees ached from crawling on them scrubbing floors.

~~~~

Oscar however wasn’t at all satisfied in that being the last time they met. In fact had been skipping out on his lessons and duties, sneaking out in commoner’s clothes constantly. It was not like him at all, normally he was highly responsible and took his role seriously.

After several days of this, King Ozpin interrupted one of his escape attempts. “If you needed a break, you could always just ask for one.”

Oscar, very much having not expected Ozpin to be lurking by the exit he always snuck through to get to town, startled. “I’m- it’s not that- it’s-”

Ozpin just nodded, a ghost of a smile on his lips. “You met someone.” He answered for Oscar.

Oscar just sighed and nodded.  

“Well, a little birdy was telling me about this girl who works at a mechanic’s shop. Pietro’s I believe? Interesting thing about her is she’s got bright silver eyes, a pretty rare trait.” Ozpin explained casually.

“I… didn’t tell you she has silver eyes?” As odd as it was, Oscar had grown somewhat accustomed to Ozpin’s odd ability to know things he really shouldn’t be able to and knew that the half shrug and smirk he was given at that comment was all he would receive.

Ozpin stepped aside, clearing the way to the exit and gesturing for Oscar to go on.

Oscar began lingering around that shop whenever he could. He didn’t see the girl that day, or the day after that. In fact it took almost a whole week and he was beginning to feel rather creepy for doing this.

He just wanted to know her name. If it turned out that she wanted nothing to do with him after that, then so be it.

But finally his determination paid off and she was there that day. He didn’t approach her while she worked, not wanting to interrupt and be incredibly rude.

Instead he waited until she was off shift and out of the store, making himself very visible as he approached her. He had a whole thing to say planned out but it all left his brain the moment she saw him and looked happy to see him.

“Sorry to ah- ambush you here but I- someone told me where to find you and-” He just couldn’t string a sentence together. “What’s your name?” He finally blurted out.

Ruby was surprised to see him but already grinning at his awkward entrance. “Ruby, it’s Ruby.”

“Ruby.” He repeated back to her with a look of wonder on his face that made her stomach flip. He said it like it was the most beautiful word he had ever heard.

“So Ruby, you work at a mechanic shop?” Oscar asked, as if he was looking for an excuse to say her name again.

“Yeah, I work on weapons mostly, it’s fun.”

“Weapons huh? How come?” He wanted to know everything about her, he realized.

“Well… same reason I dreamed of being a knight as a kid I think? It helps protect people, in any way I can manage. That and the way weapons are put together is sort of like a puzzle? I find it calming I think and-  oh, I do have to get going soon though.” She interrupted her self, knowing full well that they could talk for hours again.

“Come visit sometime!” Oscar said in a rush, not wanting to lose the chance to see her again.

“I can show you around, show you what it looks like when it’s not crowded with people for a big party.”

“If you’re sure that’s okay…” Ruby wanted to see him again too and seeing the rest of the palace sounded really interesting too.

“Absolutely! It won’t be a problem, no one around will mind.There’s always a guard up at the front gate, just tell them who you are and they’ll let you in.”

Ruby felt warm at the implication he'd mentioned her to enough people that the guards would know who she was. She nodded. “I’ll stop by as soon as I can, I promise.”

She left for home feeling light and with every intention of visiting him.

~~~~~

Bogged down by chores, it’s nearly two weeks later when she first gets a chance to visit. At the entrance to the castle stood a tall red haired woman in armor standing guard.

Ruby opens her mouth to introduce herself but doesn’t even have to as the guard is already opening the door. “It is very good to meet you.” she says. Ruby guessed Oscar really wasn’t exaggerating about the guards knowing who she was.

“Wait here and the Prince will be right down.” The guard assured.

Ruby stood in the main hall, looking at all the tapestries and portraits lining the walls as she waited.

Oscar showed up only minutes later, looking ecstatic and slightly out of breath as if he’d been running to get to her.

He reached out to her then hesitated. Like he wants to hug her or some show of affection but his etiquette training kicked in.

He held his hand out, palm up.

Ruby wasn’t entirely sure what to do but took a guess and put her hand very lightly on top of it.

His fingers curled around hers as he lifted her hand to his lips, kissing her knuckles.

This was by noble standards a very appropriate greeting for a woman he highly respected- if not a little strange because of their status difference. Yet it felt more intimate than just about anything else he could have done. She stood there,red faced and dizzy as he lowered their hands but still held hers in his. “I’m glad you actually came.”

“I promised I would, didn’t I?”

“Well I’m very glad you keep your promises then… I missed you.” He mumbled the last part before clearing his throat.”May I give you a tour?”

“Of course, lead the way your majesty.”

Oscar walked with her hand-in-hand through all the major parts of the castle. Quickly his tour got off track to them discussing other things with him briefly stating what room they were in but otherwise not bothering to give details about it, much more interested in the conversation at hand.

The sun is setting once again when they part ways, Oscar inviting her back any time she wants.

~~~~

Rumor has it that the Prince is seriously courting a girl. She is over many times a week and several servants whisper of the fact they have seen the two snuggled up together when they thought no one was looking. Even without that damning evidence, the bright mood the Prince was constantly in told the story plainly enough.

Ruby had taken to visiting the palace rather than working at the shop. She knew Pietro would welcome her back no matter how long it had been since she last worked. Still, it made her a bit anxious to not be working on her savings currently but for once in her life she was so very happy.

~~~~

Oscar had been serious about properly introducing Ruby to his guard friends. She got along with them easily, so easily in fact that they had begun teaching her the basics of fighting out in the training yard.

Whenever Oscar knew that was going to happen, he tried to get out of his duties early to go watch, it was always worth it to see.

This time around he got there just in time to watch Nora flip Ruby, pinning her to the ground.

“Nora… please try not to kill her, I think Oscar might actually get mad at us then.” Jaune pointed out as Ruby stood up and brushed herself off. “Oh come on, I’m not that breakable.” Ruby laughed. “You next then.” She grabbed one of the wooden training swords and stood at the ready for him.

A few parries from either side before Ruby went on the offensive, half accidentally Jaune over the head with it.

“Ow okay please don’t kill me either.” Jaune whined cradling his head.

Ruby snorted in an attempt to hide a laugh, completely unable to feign concern. “Hm but if I kill you do I get to take your place and be a guard?”

“What! No! Now I’m afraid you’re actually going to kill me.”

“You don’t need to kill Jaune to have a place here. You are more than welcome to stay” Pyrrha said while sympathetically rubbing Jaune’s shoulder, the only one willing to comfort him in his dramatics.

“I think there’s another role you’d prefer over being a guard though.” Ren noted, backed by Nora wagging her eyebrow to punctuate it with implication.

Ruby was less embarrassed now by this than she used to be. This teasing was commonplace now. There was no way it wasn’t glaringly obvious to everyone that the prince was courting her. Honestly she hadn’t put a whole lot of thought into it, it sort of just had been washing over her. Shows of affection are basically constant and they weren’t exactly secret about it even if they weren’t exactly clear about what they were to each other either.

~~~

It became a regular thing for Ruby to join Oscar for lunch or dinner on days when she visited. It was during one of these meals that she first met the King who apparently had the time to join them that particular day. King Ozpin was quite kind and welcoming to her, that dinner actually wasn’t nearly as awkward as she was expecting it to be. The only thing was that he kept saying things that made it sound like he’d met her before. It was odd but also hard to put her finger on exactly. When the meal was over and they parted ways Oscar assured that he was just like that but that the King really did seem to approve of her.

~~~

Some days she and Oscar would go spend their time in the palace library together. Usually they would just quietly enjoy having the other around, leaning gently against each other as they read. Sometimes they would talk about the books they were reading and get completely sidetracked. On this particular day they were going through the shelves of storybooks, quick and simple to read but filled with nostalgia. One particular set of books caught Ruby’s eye, pages faded to yellow with age and a gold trim around the edges. She grabbed for them before she noticed what she was doing, thumbing through the pages looking at the print and little illustrations. She hadn’t noticed how long she had been standing there when Oscar snuck up behind her and wrapped his hands around her waist, resting his chin on her shoulder.

“What’d you have there?” He whispered.

“These books, I just, I remember them from when I was little but I think you’re missing one?” There were three books she found on the shelf from this series but there should be a fourth one, the one she remembered best. “My mom- my birth mom used to read these too but my favorite was this one that had these warriors who could turn all the beasts in the forest to stone with their eyes? And well, they had silver eyes which I thought was so cool because both me and her had them too.”  Ruby explained, she couldn’t even recall how the stories went, just like she couldn’t really recall her mother. Sometimes she’s sure she just dreamed it all up.

~~~

Oscar wasn’t too keen on giving gifts. It felt odd to do when he had so much wealth, like he was trying to buy affection. Today though was different. It was Ruby’s birthday and he’d been looking for this particular perfect gift all month long. Once she arrived he could hardly wait to give it to her.

“You’ve had that silly grin on since I’ve gotten here, it’s making me nervous..” Ruby said, eyeing him carefully.

“Okay, okay, I was going to wait until later but, well- hold on.” He turned tail, running up to his room and back to go grab the unwrapped present, returning soon after. “Here you go.”

In her hands he placed a book with those yellowed pages and gold trim. She stared at the title ‘The Warriors of the Woods ’, her fingers tracing the letters in awe. Her cheeks ached from the grin stuck on her face as dragged Oscar into a tight hug.

“Thank you so much!”

“Happy birthday.” Oscar said as he hugged her in return.

~~~

Ruby’s step-family was growing ever more suspicious as she kept returning home happy and grinning, humming songs to herself. Nothing seemed to manage to sour her mood whatsoever and every happy moment she showed only earned her more disdain and chores from Salem. Ruby did them all without complaint.

~~~

With Ruby around so often, Oscar began constantly skipping his lessons. All of his tutors eventually came up with a way to circumvent this by simply pulling Ruby into his lessons as well. Oobleck more or less ambushed them in the garden and gave them no room to politely escape as he handed them textbooks, paper, and pencils, diving right into a history lesson of the internal politics of the Kingdom of Vale.

One thing Oscar had learned about Ruby early on was that she hated being forced to sit still if it wasn’t her choice. She began to fidget, then doodle, then as all this information droned on made her head buzz she began to drift off into a nap.

Oscar nudged her awake a couple times before taking his paper and writing her a little note.

‘Think you’ll survive?’ He slid that over to her just before she began to doze again.

‘I don’t know! Is he always like this?’ Her writing was scrawls that took Oscar a moment to decipher but once he did he quietly laughed.

‘Pretty much, why do you think I skip out on this and spend time with you instead?’ He replied.

‘Saying I’m better than this isn’t a compliment :( ‘

This was the first, but definitely not the last time Ruby was brought into his lessons. Any time they could get away with it they passed notes and laughed like little school kids to pass the time.

~~~

When Oscar was having a bad day, he liked to go climb up into the rafters of the stables. The palace had a large stable where they kept the horses and a few chickens roamed freely. It felt familiar and safe to him. It wasn’t often that he had a truly bad day but today he was feeling very off. Ruby had come to visit that day and while it cheered him up in the way it always did, it didn’t exactly fix everything. That day Oscar decided to show Ruby his hiding spot in the rafters. He led her to the stable and showed her how he climbed up there, sitting comfortably on one of the beams.

“You don’t have to tell me but, is something wrong?” She asked, he had been so quiet today and they had never gone to spend time out here like this before.

“It’s nothing… nothing in particular, just a bad day, I guess.” Oscar admitted. “It’s silly, I mean it’s hard not to feel guilty about having a bad day when I have so much going or me.”

Ruby scooted closer to him, wrapping an arm around his waist. “I don’t really think it’s silly, if you want to talk about it, I’m right here.”  She rests her head against his.

Oscar took a moment to try to put it into words. “I’m thankful, for everything Ozpin has done for me. I’m a prince now, and he doesn’t even push all these outdated royal rules on me or anything. But… I didn’t exactly grow up this way? I grew up on a farm, and sometimes I just miss how simple everything was there and I miss my aunt and everything else.”

Ruby understood then why he would want to go hide out here and in a way she could imagine how overwhelming this must be for him since what she’s experienced of palace life was awfully overwhelming to her too.

She didn’t think about it for even a moment before she turned her head to press her lips to his in a sweet reassuring kiss.

Now, affection was shown quite freely between them in private, nearly constantly touching. Kisses, on the cheek, forehead, back of the hand, those were all commonplace for them nowadays. Yet this right here was their first proper kiss.

They were both a bit red in the face at the realization but it felt like it hardly needed addressing, like it was inevitable.

“Hey when you said Ozpin doesn’t push outdated rules on you? I mean he’s not going to have a problem with…” Ruby gestured between the two of them.

Oscar laughed, kissing her in return finally before answering. “I think he’s all for this. He approves of you and he wants me to be happy, and well, you make me happy.”

~~~

Ruby shouldn’t have been surprised when one night she came home to find that book Oscar had gifted her a charred pile of illegible paper in the middle of her room. Cinder had always had a knack for knowing just which of Ruby’s possessions would hurt the most to lose. That, and the whole family had been completely furious with Ruby being so upbeat lately that of course Cinder would do something like that.

Somehow it is so much worse than the dress being burnt. She re-read this book every night before she went to bed to remember what she could of the family she once had and to remember that someone cared enough about her to go through all the effort to find it for her.

She cleaned up the pile, feeling cold and empty and like she was entirely trapped here. Maybe it was just because she’d summoned him last time Cinder burnt something of hers, or maybe she just desperately needed someone to talk to in general but once she is calm she whispers “I wish I could see my Fairy Godmother.”

Once again Qrow appears in front of her in a blink. “Y’know, you can call me when you aren’t crying.” He sighs. “What’s it about this time? I thought the last gig went well. Heard you even snagged yourself a prince.”

“Where did you hear that?! I- never mind, it doesn’t matter.”

“Am I wrong?” Qrow raised an eyebrow, crossing his arms.

“That’s not the point. But even if I did you shouldn’t pat yourself on the back about it. You nearly killed me with those heels.” Ruby was trying to sound serious but having something meaningless to argue over was such a relief it was difficult to keep that tone of voice.

“Oh I’m definitely patting myself on the back. When you two get hitched that makes me royalty by extension.”

“I don’t think that’s how it works.” Ruby mumbled, hiding a smile by ducking her head.

“Well, enough of that. You never answered my question, what’d you need?”

“I don’t know. Nothing, I guess. I think I’m just tired of this place.”

It was nothing he could fix anyways, not permanently at least probably. “Could you stay for a while? We could play games like when I was little?” She asked, of all things she thinks that might cheer her up right now.

Qrow seemed a bit confused and maybe even a touch startled at that statement  but hid it quickly. “Didn’t think you remembered any of that.”

“You were always around, it’d be a little hard to forget!”

“Hmm…” For a moment he looked to be deep in thought before he shook his head.  “I guess I can spare a little time.”

~~~

It was a few days before Ruby visited the palace again, longer than she had gone without visiting in quite a while.

When finally she does come by, Oscar is visibly worried.

He greets her with a kiss but lingers close. “Did something happen?”

“No, no I was just really busy.” Ruby said blandly.

Oscar had an expression that said he knew that wasn’t the whole story but he wouldn’t press her on it either.

“Just some family trouble, talk about it later okay?” Ruby added to try to quell his concerns.

Before they could continue their conversation they were interrupted.

“Ah, you’re here, excellent!” Said Ozpin as he approached the couple who took a respectful step away from each other. “See, I wanted to formally invite you to our next upcoming ball.” He handed Ruby a sturdy envelope embossed with her name in silver print on the front.

“We’re having another ball?” Oscar asked.

“Yes, it’s been a few months since the last one so I thought it’s time for another celebration.” Didn’t I tell you?”

“It must have slipped your mind.” Oscar muttered, half sure that Ozpin came up with this on a whim just today.

“This one is by invitation only. Hence why I wanted to personally ensure that Miss Rose received hers.” Ozpin shot a meaningful look Oscar’s way as he said that before turning to direct his next statement to Ruby “Mm, anyways, don’t worry about attire, we can have you fitted for a dress, one properly suited for a night of dancing.”

He left no time for either of them to respond before heading off elsewhere. They both are left standing there, confused about what just happened.

“Hey Oscar?”

“Mhm?”

“So, I don’t actually know how to dance?” She was embarrassed to admit it, since it seemed like something everyone around knew how to do but her.

“Oh, well there’s some excellent tutors around here, you don’t have to worry about that!” Oscar reassured.

“Okay but what if I’m afraid of embarrassing myself in front of the tutors?”

“Are you afraid of embarrassing yourself in front of me?” He asked and she considered the question.

“Somehow a lot less afraid.” Ruby answered, there was a level of comfort she’d reached in being that vulnerable around him.

“Then how about I teach you?”

~~~

That started what would become the weeks of dance lessons leading up to this next ball.

“It’s easier than it looks. I was nervous the first time around too.” Oscar said, standing in the large empty ballroom with Ruby as he started the record player on some basic waltz music.

He demonstrated the base steps alone, explaining them as he went.

“Okay, want to give it a try?” He asked.

“I guess, sorry if I step on your toes.” Ruby was still pretty apprehensive even after watching him demonstrate.

Oscar chuckled, putting one hand on her waist. “I’ve seen you practicing sparring with the guards, you’re actually really graceful.”

“When I’m sparring I’m supposed to be aiming to hurt people, and here not so much.” She retorted.

That was only met with a fond kiss and Oscar’s other hand finding hers. “Come on, giving it a try?”

She began to follow his steps but it was clear how uneasy she felt no matter how long they tried it for.

“Here, let’s try something different. You lead.” Oscar offered.

“Won’t that make it worse?” Ruby thought that would just give her more opportunity to step on his feet.

“No, I think it’s pretty awkward to learn to do these all backwards, it’s easier to learn if you’re in the lead role.”

“Okay…” Ruby reversed their position, putting her hand on his waist to mirror the way he had been holding her before. They were nearly the same height so it worked perfectly in that sense.

It’s awkward at first still but Ruby was much less nervous, actually it was Oscar that was stumbling more now because he wasn’t used to this role.

By the time they had made their way around the room once, she was grinning.

When the music ended she hugged him.

“Thank you, that was way less awful than I was expecting.” She mumbled against his shoulder.

“Ha, glad it was better than awful?” His arms wrap around her in turn.

“But you aren’t done quite yet. That’s just the very basics, and you still need to practice this more too.”

Ruby feigned a pout with a grin hidden behind it. “What? There’s more?”

~~

Until the day of the ball they continued to practice. Oscar had been made to take dance classes since he’d been adopted so he was more than happy to show off some of the more intricate steps and dances. Ruby’s personal favorite was dips mainly for that cute dazed expression Oscar got on his face when she could easily dip him and pull him back up for a kiss.

~~

Rumor had it that the Prince will be engaged to miss Ruby Rose by the time this exclusive ball is over with.

This rumor may or may not have been started singlehandedly by one royal guard by the name of Nora Valkyrie. Regardless of how it started, word spread far and wide.

~~

Word spread so far and wide in fact that it reached Salem. She was fuming, oh how could that wretched girl catch the prince’s attention so easily?

As much as she wanted to lock Ruby away and have done with her, Salem knew that if the prince truly cared for the girl then he might very well go looking for her. So she bided her time and came up with a plan, forging an invitation for Cinder to go to this new ball.

Ruby didn’t know any of this. Maybe Salem was a bit more cold and cruel than usual, but Ruby had already grown to expect the worst so she couldn’t even tell the difference.

~~~

The night of the ball arrived rapidly and Ruby had snuck out without finishing her impossibly long list of chores knowing full well she would pay for it tomorrow.

She wore a lovely floor length dress in a similar red color as her previous one, this time with her comfy boots underneath rather than those awful stilts.

Ruby was happy with how she looked, and so much more relaxed without the constant fear that her step mother or sisters would somehow ruin this for her.

Her confidence only grew when she met Oscar at the entrance and he offered her his arm. “You look beautiful.” He said, sounding so genuinely awestruck.

She really had to hold herself back from kissing him or even hugging him since there still was etiquette to follow for an event like this.

“Thank you, you don’t look bad yourself.” She replied as she took his arm.

Oscar didn’t leave her side all night. As he was Prince, they did have to make the rounds of talking with anyone particularly important but everyone was quite polite and seemingly excited to meet her too.

Once all the niceties were out of the way, they joined everyone else on the dance floor.

Ruby wasn’t nervous anymore, though she put her hand on Oscar’s waist to immediately take the leading role in this dance. Oscar just laughed and tried to stealthily kiss her on the cheek, an action many caught sight of regardless, because of course people were keeping their eyes on the prince and his girl.

For the whole night they only dance with each other which no one seemed to take issue with.

Well, no one took issue with until one particular unwelcome guest mader appearance. A song had just ended when Ruby felt a harsh tap on her shoulder, a fingernail basically gouging into her arm. When she looked up at who was trying to get her attention, she tensed,  staring wide eyed. Cinder stood here, a fake overly polite smile plastered on her face as if she didn’t know exactly who Ruby was. “May I have this next dance with him?” She asked, putting Ruby in a position to look very rude and possessive if she were to say no.

Ruby couldn’t find her words at all, even if there was little Cinder could directly do to her here she still couldn’t help but be afraid.

Oscar picked up on something being wrong immediately, he’d never seen Ruby look so vacant and afraid, and this woman who had approached looked vaguely familiar. He frowned slightly before looking at the guest. “Would you excuse us for a moment?”

Cinder, seeing how this wasn’t going her way and so incredibly angry with Ruby getting her way, did not in fact excuse them for a minute. “I’m sorry, I didn’t think you heard me, I said may I have this dance?” Her grip on Ruby’s shoulder now bruising as she tried to rip her away from the Prince.

Oscar immediately got in between the two of them, and the guards were there almost immediately. Cinder did not go easily or quietly, in fact it made for a rather impressive wrestling match to watch in the middle of the dance floor before she was actually dragged off.

Everyone was quiet, shocked, and confused but slowly the party came back to life with people chancing quiet conversation and then returning to their dance.

“I’m sorry- about that.” Ruby mumbled, voice trembling slightly.

“That wasn’t your fault… at all. But, you seemed to know her?” Oscar spoke carefully, not wanting her to feel obligated to answer.

“She’s my stepsister.” She answered shortly

Suddenly something clicked for Oscar about the ‘family issues’ Ruby had alluded to before and it left a bitter feeling in his stomach. “Hey, you’re safe now.” He said, pulling her close.

“Yeah, for now.” Ruby sighed, she would still have to go home to.. To whatever was going to happen now.

“No, for always. You could stay here, stay with me.” Oscar blurted out, more than anything just wanting to make sure she was safe and happy. It took him longer than it should have to realize just how that sounded. “Okay, uh to be clear that was not a proposal. I promise that will be much better thought out and not asked when you’re dealing with a lot of stress-” His explanation was interrupted with a kiss.

“You do realize you just implied you’re going to propose, right?” Ruby asked once she pulled away.

Oscar laughed, giving her one more peck on the lips. “I thought that was obvious.”

[otagamerkorin]

Trial by Fire (including very little actual fire and honestly just a whole lot of snow)

Merry (very belated) Christmas @blasphemousfungus! I was your secret santa for @kibasniper‘s Psychonauts Secret Santa! Unfortunately, due to a lotta stuff going on in my life, your present isn’t completely done yet, but here’s the first (honestly kinda massive) chapter of it! I plan on putting it up on AO3 as well, so I’ll ping you then too! For reference, this was highly inspired by mystery_notebook (or I think they might be @tvguts on here?) fic Like It Used To Be, But Better, which is amazing and you should totally check it out. Anyways, I really hope you enjoy it!

Edit: Just realized I completely forgot to give it a title. Whoops.

When they had gone into the asylum, none of the members of Thorney Towers had expected to come back out not only dear friends with a 10 year old, but also under the close monitor of an organization of secret psychic agents.  Initially is had only been to ensure that being around Loboto while in such delicate condition hadn’t left any lasting damage. Luckily from what they’d been able to work out from the fours scattered memories of the time, the dentist hadn’t involved them in any of his experiments, but better safe than sorry. The surveillance really hadn’t gotten in the way of their new lives much. A few calls a week, the occasional in-person check in to see how they were doing, not much to write home about in the grand scheme of things.

After a time though, things had begun to get...interesting.

It was actually Boyd who kicked the whole thing off, so to say. It had been a day like any other, possibly even more quiet and domestic than usual considering they’d just hit the weekend. According to the other three, he’d simply been drying dishes after dinner that night when a wayward mug has slipped off the counter behind him. The resulting crash has two effects. 1.) The former nightguard jumped about three feet off the ground with a startled shriek. And 2.) The dishtowel in his hands promptly burst into flames. Luckily he’d dropped the flaming cloth into surprise and a bit of group panic and rapid stomping has quickly put out the blaze, leaving the four gathered in the small kitchen, staring down at its burnt remains.

The lot of them, Boyd especially, were dumbfounded by the whole event and immediately phoned up their new psychic associates, if only to make sure they weren’t all going crazy again. There had to be some mundane explanation for this, right? But after a few quick tests from Sasha, it was official: Boyd was most definitely a psychic.

Signs from the others quickly followed.  Fred would frequently find papers and pens floating in orbit around him whenever he got embroiled in his nursing reinstatement exams. Edgar would sometimes find those around him caught up in a sort of bewildering mental fog, leaving them staring around in confusion. And while Gloria had always had quite the green thumb, now the plants in her garden flourished with just the touch of her hand, the woman assaulted with a hundred whispered voices of delight whenever she appeared at the gate with her watering can. Lili was especially happy about the latter, having never met a fellow connoisseur of florakinesis until that point, let alone one who was so friendly.

To say everyone, both Psychonaut and otherwise, was baffled was an understatement. None of the four had shown an signs of psychic powers earlier in life. So why now?

It was Razputin of all people who offered a hypothesis.  They were all aware that the large amount of  Psitanium around the camp and asylum had been less that helpful for the fours delicate mental state, what with the whole “making the sane less sane” thing and all. Perhaps though, the other half of the phrase may also be in play. What if being around all that Psitanium has brought whatever deeply buried psychic powers the four shared to the surface?

Honestly, it was the best they had to go on. There were hardly any cases of spontaneous psychic manifestation in those beyond adolescence and the four weren’t showing any of the usual symptom relating to those sort of circumstances.

Regardless, it didn’t change the fact that the organization now had a whole mess of new psychics in the mix who needed training.

Which is what brought Milla to the front gates of the Von Gouten Arts Academy for Girls (formally Hagatha Home) bright and early one Wednesday morning. The former actress had bought the dilapidated old academy around a year ago using some of the wealth she’s amassed during her glory years. (It was amazing how much interest a saving account left to sit could accrue.) Since then she’d been fixing the place up, hiring teachers and generally getting the place running even better than before, eventually joined in her endeavors by the other three Thorney Towers residents when they moved onto the grounds with her.

Milla found herself smiling up at the stylized “VG” woven into the metal of the newly installed gate in the stone fence that surrounded the property. Gloria really was doing an excellent job with the place. Rolling her window down, the Mental Minx leaned out and pressed the button of the call box installed in the fence wall. For a moment there was silence and then a familiar voice crackled to life on the other end.

“Good morning! Do you have an appointment?”

“Well, I would certainly hope so Darling.” Milla teased and she could practically hear the smile in Boyd’s voice when he replied.

“Dang, is it really Wednesday already? Well, head right on up Mrs. Vodello! I’ll let the rest of the gang know you’re coming.”

There was a buzz and the whirring of mechanisms as the gate opened and allowed access to the road beyond. Continuing on down the path, she soon found herself pulling into the large round driveway in front of the building. A group of students tending to one of the flower beds out front waved as she parked and stepped out of the car, Boyd likewise stepping out of the guard shack nearby and making his way over.

“Good morning to you Ms. Vodello! You the only one here today?”

“Not quite.” She replied with a chuckle, just in time for the back door of the car to fly open and Raz to stick his grinning face out around it.

“Hi Boyd!”

“Hey, good to see you too Raz! Come on inside, the rest of the gang should be on their way.” He replied with a grin, reaching down to ruffle the boy’s hair as he led them inside.

For as horrid as the place had apparently originally been ran, the former owner had at least had good architectural sense, and the large oak front doors opened into a soaring foyer, complete with a grand spiral staircase. One that Gloria was already beginning to make her way down as the doors closed behind them.

“Well good morning Ms. Vodello! And to you too Raz dear!” The former actress beamed, taking Boyd’s offered arm as she stepped down the last few stairs.

“You came at just the right time. I just finished up with morning announcements. Please, feel free to head right over to the practice room, the rest of the boys should already be on their way. Oh, and I’ve also had some snacks from the dining hall sent on ahead. I hope you both like blueberry muffins!”

“That sounds just delightful darling!” Milla replied cheerfully, smiling wider when she saw the stars in Raz’s eyes at the mention of food. Milla sidled up beside the actress as they started down into one of the academy’s wings, one of Gloria’s arms still linked with Boyd’s.

“So how have the plants been treating you darling?”

“Oh, better everyday! My garden is thriving and I think I’m really starting to get a good hold of this whole telepathy thing! Getting it across to all my little lovelies that there’s really no need to shout every time I come in hasn’t been easy, but I think it’s finally starting to stick. The roses and lilies are still a horrible bunch of gossips, but I doubt there’s much I’ll ever be able to do about that.” She replied with a laugh.

“They do come in useful to make sure none of the students are pulling anything they shouldn’t though!”

“That’s wonderful to hear! How about you Boyd? Have you been making any process in your off-time?” Milla asked, the guard rubbing the back of his neck sheepishly.

“Yeah, a bit. It ain’t exactly been fast progress, but one step at a time you know? But hey! At least I haven’t accidentally lit up anything important again since you taught me those exercises. There’s only so many times I can almost burn down Edgar’s classroom before it starts to get ridiculous.”

Milla smiled softly, reaching over to pat the guard on the back.

“Well, learning to fully control one’s powers can be a long path. It took me years to master my own skillset. Like you said, it’s just one step at a time. I think you’ve made wonderful progress though, and I’m very proud of you darling.” She mused and the man flushed a bit at her praise and mumbled a word of thanks, tugging his hat low over his eyes bashfully as Gloria gave him a smile.

The group of four quickly found themselves at the extra dance studio in the buildings far west they’d assigned at their practice room, and upon stepping inside found Fred and Edgar already waiting for them.

“Oh, hey Ms. Milla. And you too Raz. Sorry, gimme just a sec to finish up some papers.” The tall school counselor called over distractedly, scribbling away on a clipboard from where he was sitting on a nearby bench.

“Apologies for my rather ruffled appearance as well, mi amigos.” Edgar chimed in, wiping his hands down with a long-since-stained painting cloth. Both his hands and the old shirt he wore were splattered with the stuff, having somehow even managed to get some on his face and hair.

“You caught me in the middle of a bit of early morning painting.”

“Just be sure to remember and get some rest dear. We can’t have our best art teacher burning the candle at both ends.” Gloria replied with a smile as she strode over, reaching up to stroke away a smudge of paint on his cheek. The artist gave a soft smile as he leaned into the touch.

“Oh course mi amour.”

“Good. And that goes for your too Fred. Don’t think I haven’t noticed a certain someone sneaking out of bed early the last few mornings.” She called over, and the counselor jumped a bit at being called out, flushing bashfully as he looked at her over the edge of the clipboard.

“Right, you’re right. So, what’s the plan for today Ms. Milla? Seeing as how Mr. Dark and Serious isn’t here, I assume we’re working on our levitation?” Fred asked, setting aside the clipboard as he pushed himself to his feet, the Brazilian woman giving a laugh at his joke.

“Oh come now, Sasha isn’t that bad. But you are correct! Today we’re going to be working more on your levitation!” She replied, settling back as though sitting upon an invisible chair and crossing her legs as she floated up a few feet above the ground.

“Now, last time you all managed to manifest a “Levitation Ball” as we like to call it. This time we’ll be taking the next step and practicing our ability to balance atop them. Razputin darling, if you would demonstrate?” The Mental Minx requested and the young psychic nodded, raising a hand above his head.  A large ball of swirling orange energy formed in his palm and he tossed it down, easily jumping up and balancing atop it.

“Now then, we aren’t all trained acrobats like Razputin here, so it might take a while to find your balance and get the hang of it. Consider it like balancing on a medicine ball. Remember, thinking lighter, rounder, happier thoughts can help in manifesting the ball more easily. Go ahead and give it a try! And please let me know if you need any help at all.”

Early on in these lessons the group had felt a bit silly to be using psychic instruction methods typically meant for children, but they’d gotten over it quickly enough. After all, most psychics got their powers much younger than the lot of them were, so starting at a lower level of instruction was only appropriate. It helped that the simple exercises really worked wonders too.

Though that didn’t mean it was gonna be easy. Forming the ball was one thing. Staying on was another.

A fact the group quickly discovered.

Fred gave a squeak as his light blue orb suddenly slid forward, taking the foot he’d just managed to plant atop it along with it, threatening to pull the man into a split as he hopped forward to follow it. In his defense, Edgar and Boyd didn’t seem to be doing much better. The latter had managed to get atop his off-white bubble, but was now swaying about wildly as he tried to keep balanced, arms windmilling in an attempt to steady himself. The former was having much the same troubles, quickly getting dumped back onto the floor each time he attempted to clamber up.

Gloria was the only one of the bunch who seemed to be making much progress. The woman had moved over to one of the practice room’s ballet bars and was gripping it for stability as she gingerly set one foot on her own ball. With a small grunt she hefted herself up, the orb wiggling worryingly beneath her for a moment before stilling.

“There you go! You’re doing wonderful darling!” Milla cheered her on, clapping encouragingly as the other woman smiled.

“Why thank you Milla dear. After some of the ridiculous shoes I’ve had to wear in my years on the stage, this isn’t so bad.” Gloria replied, putting her arms out to balance as her stance wavered a bit.

“Oof! Well, I’m glad one of us seems to be getting it, mi amor. This is far less easy than Señorita Vodello makes it look.” Edgar replied with a grunt, the wind getting knocked out of him as he fell to the ground once more. Milla let out a thoughtful hum, tapping her lips as she watched the struggling group. Suddenly her eyes flashed with inspiration and she snapped her fingers with a grin.

“Well, I think I may know a way to help.”

The whole group, including Raz, whom had rolled over to try and help Boyd stay upright, turned to look at her in interest.

“I’d like you all to form two, smaller levitation balls instead of one.” She directed, miming the shape of two basketball sized orbs.

“Uh, ok. But how is that gonna help?” Fred asked, already focusing on trying to reform his ball into two even as he tiled his head in confusion.

“Well, as you know, those like me, who’ve had a lot of practice, don’t require a physical representation of their levitation in order to float. Most of those who do tend to only create a singular orb to assist them, so they can don’t have to split their focus. I’ve found that others though, who have a nice grip on the psychic side of things, but are having a harder time managing the physical part, tend to prefer use two. Think of them a bit like ice or roller skates.”

“Oh, I think I see what you mean amiga!” Edgar replied in excitement, focusing till his deep red ball split into two smaller ones. Carefully, he stepped atop on, managing to balance one-footed long enough to successfully stabilize himself using the other. Cautiously, he rolled forward a few feet, face splitting into a smile as he managed to keep his balance.

“Well, well, this actually is easier.”

The others quickly followed his example, and the slight adjustment seemed to do wonders. Soon Gloria was twirling lazy loops around the room like a proper skater, Edgar trailing a bit more slowly, but no less enthusiastically, after her. Fred seemed to be doing a tad bit better than before, but was still gripping tight to a much more steady Boyd’s shoulders as the two slowly drifted in circles, Fred’s long legs doing their damnedest to keep him upright.

“Never been great at skating either, but this is a bit better I guess.” The counselor murmured, glancing up to find his partner giving him an encouraging smile.

“Hey, it just takes a little practice! I’m sure you’ll levitating like a pro in no time!” Raz encouraged, giving a whoop of delight as Gloria grabbed him and twirled him around as he glided past.

“Impressive, but I’m afraid we’re going to have to cut the class short for today.”

The whole group gave a jump at the sudden voice, Fred giving a yelp as the levitation bubbles below him popped and dropped him on his ass, and they all turned to see Sasha standing in the now open doorway.

“Sasha, darling! What are you doing here? Didn’t you have other business today?” Milla asked in confusion, drifting over to help Fred up, and the German sighed seriously.

“Yes, but I just got a call from the headquarters. It seems...that Agent Pandor has disappeared.”

Milla gave a gasp, pressing both hands to her mouth, and Raz cocked his head in confusion.

“Uhhh, who’s Agent Pandor?”

“Ms. Tanya Pandor. One of the Psychonauts junior agents and a specialist in subterfuge and information gathering. I’m afraid you haven’t had the opportunity to meet yet.”

“But isn’t Tanya on vacation right now?” Milla asked and Sasha nodded.

“Yes, she had gone skiing at a lodge up in Colorado. The HQ asked her to check in regularly for security reasons. According to what I was briefed with, reports dropped off a few days ago. After a few failed attempts to get ahold of her, eventually the HQ resorted to calling the lodge itself to check in on her, thinking maybe she’d fallen sick. When they checked her room however, the whole thing was empty. It’s as though she just vanished.”

“Oh my! That sounds troubling indeed!” Gloria gasped, mirroring Milla as she held a hand to her mouth dramatically, and the German nodded.

“It certainly is. While Ms. Pandor wasn’t one of our top agents, her skills are none the less important to the Psychonauts and her disappearing is far from ideal. Finding out what happened to her has been assigned as our team’s top priority.”

“Well, is there anything we could do to help?” Fred piped up and the two senior agents looked over at him in confusion.

“What do you mean darling?” Milla asked and the counselor fidgeted nervously with the hem of his shirt as he replied.

“Well, I mean we’re technically part of the Psychonauts to now, even if we’re just in training, right? So that means this agent is one of our buddies too. And it’s only right to try and help out our friends whenever we can right?”

“I agree!” Edgar exclaimed, clapping a hand down on his companion’s shoulder as he turned to face the assembled agents.

“If there’s anything we can do to help and find this missing girl, we’re more than happy to do so!”

Boyd and Gloria nodded along in agreement as Sasha’s gaze scanned over them, the German man’s head tilting in thought.

“Well, I suppose more eyes on the ground would certainly help. And since Mrs. Pandor wasn’t on a mission or anything, this could be a fairly safe environment for you all to get some field experience...”

“Well, I think it sounds like a great idea!” Raz chipped in, folding his arms and nodding wisely, earning an eye roll and a sigh from the older agent.

“...Very well, I suppose it couldn’t hurt.”

“Excellent! Don’t you all worry, I’ll get all the arrangements handled! Just be ready to go in a few hours and remember to pack warmly!” Milla replied, clapping her hands together cheerfully, as Raz gave out a quiet cheer.

The three agents departed quickly after that, leaving the group to make arrangements. It took a bit of scrambling to get everything organized with the rest of the schools staff, but soon enough they found themselves packing.

“I sure hope that poor gal is ok. Hopefully we can find her quick.” Boyd mused, leaning hard onto his suitcase in order to try and get it to lock around the mound of sweaters and other winterwear inside.

“Oh, I’m sure she’s just fine Boyd dear. Those Psychonauts are a tough bunch after all. No doubt she’ll appreciate your concern when we do find her though.” Gloria reassured him, folding up a thick woolen dress to tuck into one of her own bags.

“I must admit, I’m a bit excited. I’ve never been to a ski lodge before.” Edgar pipped up, an excited smile on his face as Fred let out an amused laugh.

“Can’t say I have either. Well, cept for this one time back in college. And with all the drinks that weekend, I can barely remember it. I’m sure it’s not gotta be anything tooooo over the top. Those places always talk themselves up.”

*

“Holy hell, they were not talking this place up.”  Fred muttered, his and the rest of the motley crews jaws dropping open in shock as they leaned out the windows of the truck to stare at the vista unfolding before them.

The place was really less of a lodge and more of a small village, what with the amount of connected buildings that made it up. The whole residence was constructed of pale wood, stone and brass, all woven together into a beautiful work of architectural engineering at the base of the snowy mountain. As they pulled into the parking lot at the place’s edge, they passed beneath a large ornate arch reading “Goldsmuth Lodge and Resort”.

“Yeah, Tanya does not mess around when it comes to her vacations. No really surprised, that girl barely gets any time off.” Oleander agreed, nodding in appreciating at the sight as the car slowed. When Milla and Sasha had announced their new plan to the other higher-up, the man had been assigned to the case as an additional supervisor, as well as another pair of eyes. Raz had tried to convince Lili to come along as well, but apparently there was few things the girl hated more than cold weather, not too much of a surprise coming from a florapath, so his requests had fallen on deaf ears.

Once their oversized vehicle had stopped, their collective group spilled out to stretch, several backs popping after the lengthy ride. They couldn’t very well retain their cover if they came flying in on a Psychonauts jet after all, so they’d been forced to stash it at one of the organizations safe houses and drive the rest of the way instead.

“Well then, let’s unpack and get checked in. The sooner we can find Ms. Pandor, the better.” Sasha announced, adjusting his glasses as he scanned the large plaza for the proper entrance.

There was suddenly a yelp and the sound of tumbling luggage from the rear of the vehicle. Glancing around the back of the truck, they found a mound of bags and suitcases that had no doubt tumbled free when the hatch had opened. A moment later a bag fell away as a familiar blue head popped up out of the pile and swiveled to look at them, the figure immediately giving them a sheepish smile, a hand also emerging from the pile to give them an awkward wave.

“I still can’t believe you convinced HQ to let us bring Loboto along.” Raz mused in amusement, Oleander shaking his head as he walked over to help extract the rehabilitated (in progress) criminal from his luggage prison.

“Well, Cagliosto is certainly in desperate need of some outside socialization. A relaxing place like this could be perfectly helpful with his recovery, darling!” Milla replied with a chuckle as she watched Morry lever the skinnier man up and almost fall over himself in the process. The former mad scientist quickly grabbed the agent by the front of his coat in a panic to keep him upright, the two flushing as the motion inadvertently tugged them chest to chest. Sasha gave as an amused eyeroll as the German could feasibly manage, while Milla and Raz gave a quiet giggle at his side. The two former villains had been dancing around each other for months now, much to the amusement, and occasionally frustration, of everyone watching.

“Well, like Sasha said, the sooner we get inside, the sooner we can really start enjoying ourselves. Here, let me help you there dear.” Gloria smiled, the rest of the group trailing after her as she stepped up to help retrieve the fallen luggage, Loboto giving her a thankful, if sheepish smile in return. While the four had long since forgiven Caligosto for all the asylum business (after all, he had been cursed at the time with, as he himself put it, the “insanity of a manatee”), things were still pretty awkward between them. Gloria though, every friendly, had doing her best to help bridge the gap in the meantime.

It took a bit to gather up all the luggage, and even longer to find the right entrance, but eventually they managed. The walk there had been interesting at least. Everywhere they looked, there was some new, interesting winter activity the place seemed to offer, from ice skating to toboggan rental. Their own rather modge-podge group was also getting a number of curious onlookers, which was far from ideal, but there wasn’t much they could do about it really.

The lodge’s lobby was wonderfully warm compared to the wintery chill outside, and they could already feel the scattered flakes of snow melting on their coats as they strode up to the main desk.

“Hello there! Can I help you ladies and gentlemen?” The brunette behind the desk asked with a smile, Sasha plucking his glasses off to wipe away the fog they’d accrued from the heat inside as he spoke.

“Reservations for Nein, Vodello and Gouten.”

“Alright then, just a moment!”

The young woman’s finger flew along the keyboard in a blur for several moment’s before she paused, biting her lip in concern.

“Oh, well there seems to be a small problem. You ladies and gentlemen called for a reservation rather last minute and it seems your rooms aren’t quite ready yet. My deepest apologies. You are all more than welcome to wait in the lodges lounge till they’re ready, free of charge.” She replied, giving an apologetic bow of her head as she gestured towards a pair of open doors nearby.

“Oh, it’s no problem at all darling!” Milla replied, waving a hand nonchalantly.

“Apologies for the rather sudden reservations. Our little trip was a bit of a recent development.”

“Thank you for your understanding Ms. I’ll come and inform you once your rooms are ready.”

The lounge was somehow even more impressive than the grand lobby they’d just stepped out of. He place was lit in a dim but cozy manner, a long bar stretching along one wall. The rest of the space was filled with a number of comfortable tables, armchairs and couches that encircled a handful of square open-sided pillar fireplaces that dotted the room here and there. With an excited “ooo!”, Raz rushed off to look around with Loboto trailing after him, the bunch chuckling at his antics as Sasha glanced around.

“How about you all stay here for a bit? We need to ask around the staff and see if we can find anything regarding Ms. Pandor’s disappearance.” He proposed after a moment.

“Are you sure? Is there any way we can help?” Boyd asked, fidgeting nervously.

“No, it would be best if you aren’t seen with us too much while we’re actively investigating. To help avoid casting suspicion on you lot as well and all.”

“Keep your eyes and ears open while we’re gone soldiers! Always vigilant!” Oleander commanded, giving them a little salute as the trio went off. Shaking her head in amusement at their antics, Gloria gestured toward the bar.

“Care for some drinks while we wait boys?”

Despite the lodge’s rather bustling crowd, there were only a few people at the bar and they were easily able to find seats.

“Hello there folks, what can I get you?” The bartender, a man looking somewhere in his 30’s, asked.

“Hot Chocolate!”

Gloria’s yelp of surprise at the sudden shout quickly devolved into giggles as Raz and the former villain popped up beside her, clambering up onto the next stools.

“And a cider for me sir.”

As the bartender went to work assembling the groups drink orders, he glanced over at them with a smile.

“Don’t think I’ve seen you folks around before. Welcome. What’s the occasion for the visit?”

The group glanced at each other, all trying their best to hide their slight panic. They hadn’t exactly been properly prepped for people asking them about their motives yet after all.

“Oh, uh, we, uh, came to visit with a friend we heard was staying here.” Boyd stuttered nervously. Picking up on what he was trying, Gloria slipped straight into her old actress skills and gave a sigh.

“Yes, a Ms. Tanya Pandor. She’s one of our old students. Unfortunately, it seems that we may have just missed her.”

The bartender paused, tapping his chin in thought.

“Ms. Pandor you say? Actually, I do remember her. Very exuberant. And you heard right, she seems to have left already. Was the talk of the staff rumor mill for a day or two actually. Some of her coworkers called asking to speak with her on some matter, but when the staff went up to let her know about the call, she was nowhere to bee seen. Must have left damn late at night for nobody to notice her. Which is odd really...”

“Odd, how?” Loboto asked, the group jumping a moment at his voice, seemingly having forgotten he was there, before leaning towards the bartender in interest, the man glancing around before lowering his voice.

“Well, we’re really not supposed to divulge things about the other guests, so you didn’t hear this from me, but I may have been one of the last people to see her. You see, I was assigned as a ski slope guard that day, you know, to watch and make sure nobody got injured and needed medical attention. I was stationed on one of our more challenging hills, the Black Diamond one, when I saw Ms. Pandor go whipping by. I know it has her because she had a very distinctive ski jacket she always seemed to be wearing. This whole black, purple and gold affair. Plus she has been very kind and gracious to the staff. We tend to remember those sorts of things. Anyways, she gave me a wave as she went past and seemed to be having the time of her life. It seems so strange that she would leave so abruptly without saying anything. I do hope something didn’t upset her.”

“Oh, I wouldn’t worry too much about it, dear.” Gloria replied with a smile, waving a hand nonchalantly.

“Tanya has always been the spirited type, zipping from place to place. Just a little lightning bolt.”

“Yes, she certainly did seem like that type. I’m sure you’re right. Ah, that’s right, your drinks!”

The group was quickly presented with their fine beverages, including a healthy topping of whipped cream and sprinkles for Raz and Loboto’s chocolatey treats. Edgar and Gloria’s cider was just as delicious, rich and warm. (Fred and Boyd’s spiked eggnog was perhaps not the most professional thing to be drinking during a spy investigation, but nobody was about to call them out on it.) For a time they sat at the bar, chatting away to the bartender about the various activities around the lodge, before Raz suddenly caught the shape of their other companions watching them from a nearby doorway. Nudging Gloria, he nodded over towards them, and the woman took the hint, turning to the bartender with a smile.

“Well, I’m afraid we must be going now dear. We can’t spend all vacation here in the lounge after all. Thank you for the lovely time.”

“My pleasure Ms. I hope to see you all again soon.” He replied with a nod and smile as they stepped away from the bar, his eyes widening in surprise and delight when he noticed the generous tip the group had left tucked under one of the empty mugs.

Following their missing members lead, the group ducked over into a more private corner of the lounge to meet them.

“Did you guys find anything?” Raz asked quietly, Sasha giving a frustrated sigh in return.

“No, unfortunately not. None of the night staff noticed her leaving that day. Which leaves us back at square one.”

“Well, luckily for you, we just might have a clue.” Fred replied with a smile, the trio looking over at him in surprise.

“Wait, really?!” Oleander exclaimed and the counselor gave him an unamused look.

“Geez buddy, give us some credit. We’re not completely useless. But yeah, apparently somebody saw Tanya out on one of the ski slopes earlier that day. Whatcha wanna bet there might be some sort of clue somewhere out there?” He replied, Oleander reaching up to stroke his mustache in thought as he considered the other man’s words.

“I’d say you’d probably be right on the money. Maybe Pandor saw something out there that made her haul ass out of here, though I’ve never known her for the scaredy cat type. And that would still leave the question of where she went.  But it’s a lead.”

“How’s about this?” Sasha pipped up, waving a hand to get all their attention.

“The three of us have worked out with the management to take a look in Ms. Pandor’s room, see if she maybe left some sort of clue behind. While we’re doing that, you six could head out onto the slopes and take a look around. A group of casual vacation goers, including a child, would likely draw a lot less attention than the three of us for the time being.”

“Well, I think it sounds like a marvelous plan!” Loboto replied exuberantly, pausing and rubbing his neck sheepishly when they all turned to look at him.

“If that’s alright with you all of course.”

He was met with a chorus of headshakes and “no, that’d be fine”s, so he grinned once more and nodded in satisfaction.

“Sounds like a plan then!”

“Just please all be careful.” Milla replied, eyes full of concern, and Raz gave her a comforting smile.

“Don’t worry, we’ll be ok! Besides, whenever are we not careful?”

The 50-yard stare of no doubt Whispering Rock related war flashbacks that she gave him in return spoke volumes.

*

“Thank god for government provided tailoring. Trying to find snow wear for proportions like mine is hellish.” Fred sighed quietly in satisfaction, adjusting his perfectly fitting ski jacket to a chorus of chuckles. The 6 of them were currently waiting in line at the equipment rental shop. Once they’d gotten their luggage up to the rooms and finally unpacked, they’d found the new sets of winter gear amongst their belongings, perfectly tailored and clearly a gift from the Psychonauts organization. How said organization knew their measurements was a mystery they neither had, nor wanted, the answer to.

“I must admit, they are rather fetching, aren’t they?” Gloria replied with a smile, giving a little twirl to let the hem of her longer coat poof out for a moment like the skirt of a dress.

Eventually the line cleared out enough for them to enter the small store displaying the various types of equipment available for rental and purchase. Splitting up to look, they all quickly selected their preferred styles. It didn’t take long for most of them to reconvene near the counter, each carrying a fairly simple pair of skis. There was no need for the super high-grade stuff, none of them were professionals after all. When Raz came running back with a snowboard, none of them were really that surprised. Skis had seemed a bit boring for the boy’s exuberant personality to begin with. What did draw their shock however was when Fred came trotting up behind the young psychic, a long light blue board slung over his shoulder.

“Uh, mi amor, are you sure that’s what you meant to get?” Edgar asked, eyeing the board in equal parts confusion and concern, and Fred laughed in return.

“Oh yeah, don’t worry about it. Never said I had been using skis when I went someplace like this back in college. Always been useless with them. Snowboards were a different story though. Used to skateboard a lot back in high school too. Now let’s go see if I’ve still got any of that old muscle memory still rattling around.”

As a group that was inexperienced, and in some of their cases completely unfamiliar, with the equipment, getting into their rented pieces ended up a tad more challenging than intended. Boyd nearly poked himself in the eye with one of his poles and Raz promptly fell backwards into a snowdrift after figuring out how hook his boots into the board, but eventually they managed to get their nonsense together enough to try and get in line for the ski-lift that would take them up to the Black Slope.

Try being the key word.

Just as they were in the process of settling themselves at the back of the line, a slightly nervous voice called out behind them.

“Hmm, now I don’t claim to be an expert on skiing, but something tells me this isn’t how it’s supposed to go.”

Turning to look back, they found Loboto had not only somehow managed to put both of his skis on backwards, but was now also slowly sliding away from them down the slight decline, ski poles digging into the snow in an attempt to stop himself. Boyd, being the closest to him, darted out to try and grab the man, but missed his hand by a hair, and he began to pick up speed.

“Whoa! Look out there!”

Someone suddenly darted behind the former mad scientist, catching him by the shoulders and stopping his uncontrolled journey. As the person carefully pushed the man back up towards the group, they got a better look at them. It was a young man in his early 20’s, with pale skin and messy sandy blonde hair.

“There ya go!” He announced, settling the dentist back in front of the rest of the group and crouching. down to look at his skis.

“Ah, here’s your problem! Here, this should help.”

With deft fingers, he unhooked Loboto from the skis, flipped them around and had him step back in, hooking him securely into place.

“Uh, thank you. I’m a bit of a beginner.” The blue skinned villain thanked him, cheeks flushing the tiniest bit of dark blue in embarrassment, the younger man glancing over at the sign announcing the coming hill at his words.

“Well, I wouldn’t exactly recommend this hill to someone still getting their snow legs, but I can’t fault you for wanting to jump into the challenge head first!” He replied with a merry laugh.

“Oh, don’t worry, we’ll be very careful. Thank you for your help, Mr...?” Gloria replied, the young man jumping to attention when he realized her pause was requesting and answer and reaching out a hand to shake.

“Oh, just call me Josh! A pleasure to meet you folks!”

He quickly exchanged handshakes with them all, Raz included, as the line to the chair lift drew shorter.

“You certainly seem to know your stuff.” Edgar complemented him, glancing over as Loboto turned his ankle this way and that to look at the ski mechanism in fascination.

“I would certainly hope so, considering all the years I’ve worked here! I know all the ins and outs like the back of my hand!”

“Well isn’t that wonderful. This seems like a splendid place to work.” Gloria replied with a smile.

“Oh it is, I couldn’t be luckier. Oh, looks like it’s you guys turn!”

Turning to look, they found the couple behind them settling into their chair on the lift, the next one incoming. As they stepped up to wait on it, Josh stepped away, giving them a wave as he turned to leave.

“Hopefully I see you guys around! If you’ve got any questions, just let me know. If want to know anything about the lodge or hills, I’m your guy!”

“We definitely will!” Fred called after him, the group raising their arms to wave back, before prepping to climb aboard the lift.

The benches ended up only being able to fit 3 people, so they ended up separated into two groups, Fred, Boyd and Edgar in the first chair, with Raz, Gloria and Caligosto grabbing the second. For the former, the ride up was honestly pretty pleasant and peaceful, the view from up so high showing them a beautiful vista.

“Wow, we really are up high huh?” Boyd, wondered out loud, glancing down over the side of the chair at the forest spread out below them.

“Si, we certainly are. Hmm, I wonder, is this the sort of view you normally have mi amor?” Edgar asked, looking at the lanky man between them with a cheeky smirk. Fred gave the painter an unamused look as on his other side Boyd let out a snorted laugh, breaking into giggles.

“Seriously? Your pulling out the tall guy jokes?”

With a grin and chuckle, the Hispanic man leaned up to give the taller man a peck on the cheek as their other partner leaned against his shoulder in a giggling fit.

“Apologies mi amor, I couldn’t resist.”

In the other chair however, things were going...less pleasantly.

Raz gazed down at the trees below as they rode along, humming some song the piano player in the lobby had been playing. Feeling something bump his leg, he glanced over, seeing Loboto’s legs jittering back and forth enough to jostle against him. Now that he thought about it, the whole man was shaking. Glancing up at the dentist’s face, he found the older man’s gaze fixed straight down at the ground. His hands were fisted in and tugging nervously at the strings of his ski hat (they’d all agreed the shower cap might be a bit too conspicuous), causing the large pop pom on top to bounce rhythmically. And judging by his harsh breathing, the guy was probably about 2 steps away from hyperventilating.

“Um, Loboto?” The young boy asked, seeming to snap the dentist out of his daze, at least partially, both he and Gloria looking over at him.

“Are you ok?”

“Now that I notice, you do seem a bit...tense, dear. Are you feeling alright?” Gloria added gently

“Oh, just fine! Happy as a clam! No reason at all to feel nervous!” He replied exuberantly, the smile on his face horribly forced, eyes darting to the drop below them every few seconds.

Raz stared at him, mind puzzling over the info. The slightly loony man was usually fairly fearless, sometimes to the point of his own peril. So what could have gotten him so stirred up?

Glancing down at the ground far below them, something suddenly clicked in the boy’s head. A memory rose to the front of his mind, one of a night at an asylum what seemed so long ago, and a certain dentist’s supposed demise at the hands of a turtle powered tank. Raz felt the pit of his stomach drop, guilt sweeping over him at the realization.

“Uh, hey, is there any way this about the time you...you know?” Raz asked gently, hand gestures miming the image of a person falling off something, and flinched when the man’s head snapped around to look at him, smile wide.

“What?! No, no, of course not!...Maybe...probably...” He replied, his vibrato visibly deflating as he tried his best not to look down.

“Oh, Loboto dear, it’s alright. There’s nothing to worry about.” Gloria fretted, catching onto the issue and reaching out to pat the blue man’s back.

“Yeah, these ski lifts are like, totally safe!” Raz exclaimed, in an attempt to help.

As though mocking them, the lift jerked for a moment, sending them swinging a bit. Loboto sucked in a sharp breath at the motion, hand instinctively tightening where it had been wrapped lightly around Raz’s forearm in a grip that would definitely be leaving bruises the next day. Gloria grimaced when she saw Raz wince, raising a hand to tap her chin in thought.

“Oh dear, well this isn’t good.”

After a moment an idea hit her, and she leaned over to catch the mad dentist’s gaze smiling gently.

“Loboto dear, have I ever told you about the first time I ever took to the stage?”

The man paused in his panicking, seeming to calm slightly as he gave her a confused look, Raz looking at her in equal confusion but seeming to roll with it.

“Um, not that I’m aware of?”

“Well, let me tell you. I’ve preformed on hundreds of stages of the years, all over the world. The theater was my lifeblood. But the first time I performed in front of people, oh, I was terrified.”

“R-Really?” The man replied, eyes widening.

“Oh, absolutely. It was the worst case of stage fright I ever felt. I was absolutely petrified. My palms were sweaty, my head was spinning. I completely froze up on stage. And that wasn’t the only time. No no, I’ve had stage fright hundreds of times in my career. I almost refused to go on stage for my own awards ceremony, I was so nervous. But let me tell you something very important I’ve learned.”

She leaned in close, taking the man’s hands gently in her own, both he and Raz leaning in in fascination.

“There’s nothing wrong with being afraid. Everyone fears something. I’m scared of messing up on stage, overwhelmingly so. Young Raz here has his own fears, as do you. And there’s nothing wrong with that. Being brave doesn’t mean the absence of fear. Anyone who says so is an idiot. No, to be brave is to look fear in the face and still continue on in spite of it.”

Leaning back, she looked out at the forest surrounding them.

“This really is a lovely view, isn’t it?”

“Yes...Yes I suppose it is.” The dentist replied quietly, gazing out at the landscape around them seemingly with new eyes. He still seemed nervous certainly, gaze fixed firmly on the horizon in an attempt not to look down, but his shaking had stopped and his breathing had steadied. From behind his back, Raz gave the actress two big thumbs up and a grin.

As they neared the peak of the hill, they could the others laughing about something in the chair ahead of them, quickly hurrying off of it to make room as they reached the landing. As soon as it was their turn, Loboto practically threw himself off the ski lift, clearly trying to reach Terra Firma as quickly as possible. Gloria and Raz followed at a more normal rate behind him, pausing for a moment when the boy looked up at her.

“Not gonna lie, that was kinda awesome.”

“Why thank you my dear.” She replied sweetly, before giving him a little grin and leaning in closer as she lowered her voice.

“I’ve had a lot of practice at that speech. You’d be amazed how many new actors and actresses get opening night jitters. Still works like a charm.”

Leaving the boy to sputter in surprise for a moment, she skied on to where the others were waiting at the hills peak.

“So, what’s the plan?” Fred asked, adjusting his feet in the snowboard as Raz caught back up with them.

“Keep together and keep our eyes out for anything suspicious I guess?” The boy replied with a shrug, earning a nod from the rest of the group.

“Sounds like a plan bud.”

After some quick adjustment of clothing, equipment and whatever else, they set off.

It became quickly apparent that none of them were even close to professional skiers, though some were faring better than others. Fred’s muscle memory did seem to be kicking in, handling his snowboard with surprisingly few complications, while Gloria’s seemingly natural graceful-ness was doing her skis well. Raz took a spill every now and them, but likewise, his acrobat training seemed to be translating pretty well to snow-sports.

The others weren’t faring quite as well. Edgar seemed to be developing a habit of falling over onto his back pretty often, his large upper body pulling him over whenever he began to lose his balance, while Boyd seemed to be having the opposite problem, having taken more than a few headers face first into the snow already. Loboto was surprisingly staying up pretty well, perhaps his long legs were to blame for his better balance, but every few second he would begin to weave wildly back and forth on the slope before correcting himself, only for the cycle to repeat again shortly thereafter. The whole lot of them were certainly getting a lot of curious looks from the more advanced skiers that would occasionally pass them, the occasional trail guard they passed seeming even more concerned.

With all the chaos, it’s a wonder any of them ever saw anything.

“Whoa, wait everybody!” Raz suddenly cried about halfway down the trail, skidding to a sudden stop. He was nearly bowled over by the others in their attempts to stop, Edgar managing to fall onto his back once more and slid a few feet past him with an exasperated sigh.

“Dios mio, this is becoming tiring. What’s the matter mi amigo?”

“Look at those trees over there.” He replied, pointing to part of the forest that lined either side of the path. Glancing to where he pointed, they spotted what he seemed to be gesturing to. A swath of low branches in a certain area were snapped and bent, as though something had run into them or pulled them out of the way.

“Yeah, that definitely looks like it could be something.” Boyd replied with the critical eye of a security guard, the whole group moving off the path and towards the woodland to examine them. Upon closer inspection, there was most definitely something amiss. While the branches closer to the path broke inwards towards the forest, others further in seemed to break outwards.

“Hey, what’s that?” Raz asked, squinting further into the woodland. Unhooking himself from the snowboard, he darted further into the trees, moving to the edge of the breakage, and crouching down, seemingly digging around near one large trees roots. After a moment he seemed to free whatever he was holding and started back in the others direction.

“Look at this guys.”

He held it up for them to see, the group leaning in for a closer look. It seemed to be a long scrap of torn fabric, patterned in thick, alternating purple and black stripes, with a flash of gold along one edge.

“What do you guys think it is?” Boyd asked in bewilderment, squinting at the piece. Beside him, Edgar gave a sudden small gasp.

“Wait, didn’t that bartender say that Señorita Pandor wore a jacket in these colors?”

The group gapped at him for a moment before turning back to the scrap with renewed interest.

“Holy hell guys, I think we just found an actual clue.” Fred sputtered in amazement, Raz’s eyes lighting up.

“Hey maybe there’s more stuff to find back there! Come on, let’s go look!” the boy crowed, moving to run back into the trees.

He didn’t get very far though, as the wind suddenly kicked up, nearly knocking him over as it ripped through the trees with a swirl of snow.

“Geeze, I though trees were good for avoiding wind. Come on!”

He tried to take a few more steps forwards, only to get knocked back by another gust, being forced to take a few steps back to the group this time. Quickly the wind began to build, howling around the lot of them and kicking up the snow into near white out conditions.

“Damn, they’ve got some crazy weather in these parts!” Boyd called over the noise, Fred replying as he threw up his arms as much as he could to block his face.

“Not the sort I’ve ever seen before!”

“Wait.”

They all quieted, turning to look over Loboto, who was currently looking around in confusion.

“Now, I may have been called crazy one or twice in the past, but does anyone else hear something odd?”

The group stilled, listening hard over the wind. All at the same time, they seemed to catch it, Fred glancing around the group in sudden nervousness.

“Does that sound like growling to anyone else?”

Indeed, the sound mixed in amongst the howling of the wind was much deeper and guttural, rumbling through the air.

Crack

They all froze at the loud sound of splintering wood, all slowly turning in unison to look deeper into the woods. A shape appeared through the blur of snow, the growling growing louder and the shape becoming clearer as it drew towards them. Eventually it stopped at the edge of the broken branches and their hearts all collectively stopped as they made out what it was.

A massive beast, easily 8 or 9 feet tall, bipedal, and clothed in long white hair, only it’s slightly darker face and palms peeking out through the thick fur. For a long, drawn-out moment, there was nothing but the howling of the wind. The only thing to interrupt it was a tiny, likely instinctual whisper from Raz.

“Holy shit.”

The beast didn’t seem to like that very much and its growl deepened. With one massive hand, it reached up and tore a branch from the tree beside it with the sound of screeching wood, before reaching back and hurling it at the group. With a collective cry of surprise and panic they all managed to throw themselves out of the way of it, the large chunk of wood landing amongst the other broken branches nearby. Its failure seemed to enrage the beast even more and it reached down, clawing and tearing a truly gargantuan chunk of snow up out of the ground. It lifted it up and above its head, clearly reeling back to launch it at them, and Raz let out another, this time very foreign sounding, curse.

“Oh, that looks like a real bad time! Boyd! I’m gonna need some help!”

With that, the boy darted out in front of the rest of the group, the security guard seeming to pick up on his plan and following along behind him. Just as the beast hurled the massive snowball, Raz threw his hands up to conjure a psychic shield, Boyd’s own hands joining just beside his to release a spray of flame outside the barrier just as it contacted.

The snow clump exploded around them. Most of it dissolved into steam under the sudden onslaught of the fire, what remained splattering against the curved wall of psychic force in a spray of water and slush, flying off on either side of the group.

“Where is it?! Can anybody see what it’s doing?!” Raz called out, trying to squint through the cloud of steam now surrounding them.

“I don’t know, I can’t see!” Boyd replied, waving his hands to put out the small flames sparking on his gloves.

As the steam was cleared by the slowly calming wind, Raz blinked in surprise at the scene before him, shield disappearing as he lowered his hands.

The beast had vanished, seemingly into thin air.

For a moment they all simply sat there, most of the group having fallen to the ground in the scramble to get out of harm’s way, the air thick with unspoken disbelief. Till finally, Fred said what they’d all been thinking.

“Was that a goddamn yeti???”

“In my professional dentist opinion...yes.” Loboto replied, staring equally slack jawed at the spot.

“What?? Where did it go?? A beast that big does not simply disappear into thin air??” Edgar sputtered, clambering back to his feet as though a higher viewpoint would somehow reveal the 9 foot tall creatures hiding place.

“I...I don’t...-“

“Oi! What are you lot doing back there!?”

The whole group let out a collection of shrieks and yelps at the sudden shout, whipping around to look behind them.

An older man armed with a hefty walking stick stood at the edge of the ski trail, staring into the woods at them with a grumpy scowl on his face.

“Wha- who are you?!” Raz asked, at a loss for words, and the old man’s expression seemed to sour even further.

“Ambrose. I’m the grounds keeper here. And I should be asking you the same thing!”

“Did...Did you see...?” Boyd asked, dazed by his seeming unconcern for the fucking yeti that had been in front of them 20 seconds before. The old man leaned to glance at the place he was gesturing to, brow creasing.

“See? I don’t see anything. All I see is a bunch of troublemakers putzing about in the woods. Get out of there! You’re supposed to stay on the trail!”

Like a bunch of scolded children, they all quickly gathered themselves and scurried back out onto the path in front of the man, who pointed an angry finger at them.

“Now don’t let me go catchin you messing about in there again, understood?”

They all obediently nodded and, seemingly satisfied, he turned away with a nod, grumbling the likes of “people these days” as he slowly hiked further up the path.

“...Ok, so we’re all in agreement that we gotta tell the rest of the gang about that right?” Fred asked, seemingly still dumbfounded, and was answered by a chorus of nods.

The rest of the trip down the hill was largely uneventful. Somehow, an encounter with a mythical creature has seemingly improved their snow-sports skills, and they managed not to have any more major spills on the rest of the way down the mountain. The sun was setting by the time they reached the bottom and, after getting their equipment situated, the six ventured back through the main lodge in search of their three companions.

They did eventually find them back in the lounge, tucked away in a corner table with their drinks.

“Ah, hello everyone!” Milla greeted them with a smile and wave as they made their way over.

“Did you have a good day out on the slopes?”

“Uh, yeah, it was, uh, pretty, pretty good.” Fred replied, sharing a look with others.

“How’s about you guys?”

Sasha gestured for them to sit, voice lowered as he spoke.

“Well, we looked over Ms. Pandor’s room and it was just as empty as we���d been told. Not a trace of her. The only things we found was the Psychonauts bug she put in the rooms phone when she got here. Which means that she likely didn’t leave willingly, if she didn’t have the chance to remove it. That or she simply forgot it when she left.”

“Yeah, and that sort of absentminded-ness doesn’t sound like her. Girl might leave her workspace a mess, but I’ve been on missions with her before, and she’s a neat freak when it comes to hotels and stuff. All the tidying she does, she probably leaves them cleaner than it was when she got there. Gotta ask her if she’s got some sort of service industry trauma from college or something...” Oleander added, trailing off into rambling at the end.

“So did you six find anything out on the slopes?”

The group glanced at each other and eventually it was Gloria who haltingly began, realizing just how insane what she was about to say was going to sound.

“Well, there may have been a bit of an incident out on the trails...”

“We got attacked by a yeti!” Raz suddenly blurted, bringing the conversation to a screeching halt. Sasha turned to look at him with a truly flummoxed expression, seemingly completely thrown for a loop at the boys’ words.

“...R...Run that by me again??”

“Well, it’s a bit of a long story.” Boyd replied with a sigh.

It took quite a while to explain the events that had befallen them all, added to by the fact that dinner arrived in the middle of it, but eventually they got the whole incident out in the open, the three senior agents staring at them in bewilderment by the end.

“Are you sure it wasn’t some sort of polar bear or something? Those things can get big as hell when they’re on their hind legs.” Oleander offered and Gloria shook her head.

“Now I know how this all sounds, Agent Oleander, but we know what we saw, and that was most definitely not a bear.”

“Plus, we found this!” Raz added, reaching into his jacket and pulling out the fabric scrap, handing it over to the trio.

“The bartender we talked to said he saw her wearing a coat like that!”

“Well, I’ll admit, this definitely looks like Tanny’s sorta style.” Oleander admitted with a shrug, handing it over to Sasha to look at.

“Regardless of what this beast you saw might be, there is most definitely more going on here than a simple wayward agent.” The german acquiesced.

“Well, how’s about we all get a good night sleep and continue the investigation tomorrow. You all must be exhausted.” Milla offered kindly and Edgar gave a groan as he stretched, back popping loudly.

“After the beating we took out there, you don’t know the half of it Ms. Milla.”

Luckily for them, their rooms at the lodge were, just like the rest of the property, amazing. They’d been separated across 4 adjacent, and connected, rooms, with the senior agents sharing one and the former asylum members another, leaving Loboto and Raz to bunk solitarily. Their mother organization had, knowing and being blessedly supportive all sorts of relationships, even been kind enough to book the four a California King, while Sasha, Milla and Oleander were more than happy to settle for a King.

“Ugh, we literally just started doing spy stuff and I already feel like an old man waiting for retirement.” Fred groaned, stretching and feeling some muscle in his back twinge.

“Hehe, implying you aren’t already an old man.” Edgar teased him with a chuckle from where he was kneeling in massage position over the lanky man’s hips, his own aching back already having been kindly tended to by Gloria before her bath.

“Hey, keep up that talk and I’ll have to revoke smooching privileges.” The counselor shot back, pointing a finger over his shoulder threateningly at the larger man, even as he melted blissfully beneath he ministrations of the artist’s talented hands. Edgar finally managed to work out the last knot at the base of the man’s spine and Fred gave a little groan of relief, going boneless on the mattress beneath him.

“You boys better not be having too much fun in there without me!” Gloria called from the bathroom and Edgar laughed, smoothing his hands lovingly up and down the thinner man’s back a few times before climbing off him.

“Alright, all done. Time to move mi amor.”

Fred gave a little grumble that sounded a lot like “Sleepy. Don’t wanna.” and the painter rolled his eyes fondly, grabbing him and, like an owner with a lazy puppy, simply dragged him out of the way, patting the spot that opened up.

“Your turn.” He called over to Boyd, who’d been looking out onto the rooms snow covered balcony that overlooked the lodge’s main square, and the guard abandoned his post with a grin.

“Oh thank goodness.” He replied, shucking his shirt off and flopping onto the bed with a sigh, sending the nearby Fred bouncing slightly. He gave another grateful sigh as he folded his arms beneath his head and Edgar set to work.

“Damn, today was a crazy day. The more I think about it the less it makes sense.” He mused, earning a snorted laugh from a slightly more awake Fred as the man reached out to run a sleepy hand through the guard’s hair.

“That’s an understatement.”

“Well, I must admit, I find it all a little bit exciting.”

The three men glanced back to find Gloria emerging from the large bathroom, dressed in a fluffy towel and currently braiding her long damp hair.

“Yes, there’s a been a bit of danger I suppose, but what adventure doesn’t have some danger?”

“Sure as hell beats grading papers at least.” Fred agreed, earning a collective laugh.

“Would you like one when I’m done, mi bella?” Edgar asked, gesturing to the massage in progress, and Gloria shook her head, stooping down to give him a kiss on the cheek regardless.

“No, but it’s sweet of you to ask.”

Soon enough they all found themselves properly prepared for bed, lights flipped off, and beneath the plush covers of the bed, tangling together in the warm heap they’d so quickly become accustomed to.

“Goodnight you guys. Love you.” Fred murmured sleepily, answered by a small chorus of similar sentiments.

Before long, the four found themselves drifting off, eager to see what new, and potentially yeti-related, adventures awaited them in the morning.

[emachinescat]

The Rich Girl Next Girl (Just Tried to Kill Me)

A Psych Fan-Fiction

By @emachinescat ​

@febuwhump ​ day 7 - poisoning 

Summary: Shawn will never complain about being ‘barely poisoned’ again after he’s ‘fully poisoned’ by a woman he’s investigating - via her poisoned lipstick and an non-consensual kiss.

Characters | Pairings: Shawn, Juliet, Henry, Gus, Lassie | Shawn/Juliet

Words: 3,199

TW: non-consensual kiss

Keep reading here, or on AO3!

If you enjoy, please consider liking, commenting, or re-blogging! :)

It was the beautiful ones you had to watch out for.  

She was tall and dark haired, with green eyes that twinkled like twin emeralds, and high cheekbones and plump lips colored with the most devastating red Shawn Spencer had ever laid eyes on.  She had squeezed into a tiny black dress with an open back and plunging neckline, with legs that seemed like they would go on forever.  She wore closed-toe, diamond-studded, four-inch heels that perfectly matched the color of her lips.  

Somehow Shawn had managed to charm her into asking him to be her date to a charity gala at the Santa Barbara Museum of Art, and he was very well aware of the many eyes on him as he moved through the crowd with her on his arm.

Well.  It would be more accurate to say that he was on her arm, because she was most definitely in charge, had been from the moment she’d picked him up her limo and she’d already had another, better tux waiting and pressed for him - and had refused to let him in the car until he’d made the switch.

She wasn’t only a total knockout, though - she was also a local celebrity, a socialite, born into enormous wealth but not the heir to the bulk of her late parents’ fortune.  That honor went to her older sister, who had, just a week ago, gotten into a terrible accident on her yacht.  Part of her had been recovered on the deck after the explosion.  The Coast Guard were still looking for the other part in the ocean.  They weren’t optimistic.

So now Aria Thorton, the twenty-seven-year-old millionaire goddess, was Shawn’s date to a high-end charity event, and they were the center of attention.  

Shawn should have been in heaven.

There were three things that dampened the occasion, though - for one, she thought he was a billionaire from two counties over named Chaz Hemsworth (no relation to Chris or Liam, but his rugged good looks and fabulous hair had made many people think he was).  

Then there was the fact that she was the SPBD’s number one suspect in her sister’s supposed-accident-but-Shawn-had-revealed-that-it-was-murder-yet-again case.  Hence, why she thought he was Chaz - he was undercover with the help of the police department, much to the chagrin of Lassie and Jules, because he was the best person for the job.  (Well, he had barged into the case and presented himself as Chaz Hemsworth, and she had been interested, and now he was the best chance they had since he was already on the inside and it was a time-sensitive case - just like he’d planned it).  

Oh, and the third thing was definitely the worst of them all: His actual girlfriend, the aforementioned Jules, was here too, acting as Lassiter’s date and ready to provide backup.  And she was pissed.  

Shawn forced himself to focus on the case, though.  Technically, he’d already solved it, put all the final puzzle pieces together, just half an hour before the gala.  But by that time, she was already at the luxury hotel the SBPD had reluctantly put him in as part of his cover (“Any snacks or room service ordered will be paid for by you, Mr. Spencer, not this department,” Chief Vick had warned with that iconic raised eyebrow of hers.  And no, she wasn’t going to sink funds into a ticket for Mr. Guster - Shawn had thrown himself into this investigation alone, so Gus would just have to sit this one out.  Needless to say, Gus had not been pleased.).  

Now, there were just a few more loose ends to tie, a few more t’s to cross and i’s to dot and little squiggly fancy things to add to capital S’s - namely, he needed to do the reveal.  And since Lassie and Jules would be at the gala anyway, it would be the perfect time to do the reveal (and he’d get to live it up as a male socialite for a few more hours).

He waited until he’d tested all the hors dourves (Why the hell had no one told him caviar was fish eggs and not really fancy boba, and that it did not taste good in even the fanciest of cocktails?), but as soon as the moment was perfect, he called everyone’s attention to him by accidentally-on-purpose smashing his cocktail glass with a knife a la the Princess Diaries, jumped onto the nearest table, and presented his case.

As he revealed the truth of the tragic death of Selena Thornton, and how her sister had taken freaking Skill Share lessons on yacht safety procedures so that she could backwards engineer them to arrange an accident for her sister and swoop up her portion of the inheritance, he noticed something odd - Aria didn’t try to get up, she didn’t argue or yell something like, “That’s ridiculous!” or “You have no proof!” or even “I would have gotten away with it, too, if it weren’t for you muddling, hunky psychic!”  Instead, she opened her shimmering handbag, calmly applied some sort of thick balm to her lips.  Then she pulled out her lipstick and reapplied it.  Maybe if Shawn hadn’t been so focused on his wrap-up, he would have noticed that the lipstick was the same shade, but that it came from a different tube than when she’d reapplied earlier.  Later, in his hospital bed, he would kick himself for missing that tiny, crucial detail.

He finished by announcing, “And remember, folks - this murder reveal was brought to you by Skill Share.”

And then he was getting off the table, and Jules was preparing the cuffs while Lassie held Aria, and the rest of the rich guests were sitting in stunned silence or otherwise whispering among themselves, already spreading the gossip for the next Tabloid, he was sure.  Then, out of nowhere, the formerly docile homicidal heiress lashed out, slamming the pointed heel of her left shoe - it looked like the heel had been shoved into a pencil sharpener - into the top of Lassie’s foot, buried the elbow of her perfectly tanned right arm into Juliet’s stomach, and broke away from the detectives.

Shawn thought she would turn tail and run, try to escape, but to his shock (and confusion), she lunged straight for him, zooming forward in those ridiculous heels with a speed and grace Shawn couldn’t even achieve with sneakers.  He braced himself for an attack, got ready to defend himself, even as Lassie and Jules recovered and dove for the sabotaging socialite.

They were too late.

What happened next was the literal opposite of what Shawn had anticipated.  She crushed her body into his, grabbed his face the way they do in every rom com ever, and pressed her lips against his in a kind of tender but still somehow aggressive kiss.

For a moment, he stood in shock, trying to process what the hell was happening.  Was she glad he’d caught her?  Did she look forward to being stripped of her wealth and going to prison for life?

Then he realized that as pleasant as her soft lips were against his, he had not authorized this transaction, and even though she was a rich, drop-dead gorgeous socialite, she was also a sister-killer, and his girlfriend whom he loved very much was watching, and he pulled back.  She held on, forcing her lips on his even as he tried to squirm away from her touch.  Her expertly manicured fingernails dug into his skin, and left scratches on the side of his neck when Lassie and Jules dragged her off of him.

Shawn stumbled back, neck stinging where she’d scratched him, lips tingling where she’d kissed him.  He could taste her lipstick - it didn’t taste like cherries like he’d thought.  It didn’t taste good at all.  He wiped his mouth with his sleeve and spun on Aria Thorton, who was now being wrestled into cuffs and passed off to waiting police officers.  “Hey, I know I’m irresistible,” he said, trying to fight off his growing discomfort at the kiss - any other time, he’d probably be thrilled to have a beautiful woman throw herself at him and surprise him with an attack-kiss, “but I’ve got a girlfriend.  And she’s way more hot and bad-ass than a homi-sister like you.”

Jules turned to him and there was a little smile on her face that told him maybe he wasn't as deep in the doghouse as he'd thought.  “Homi-sister?”  

“Yeah,” said Shawn, rubbing absently at his chest.  He needed to change out of this tux.  It was too hot, and it was too tight.  “Sister-murderer.  Like homicide, but for sisters.”

“Sororicide,” Lassiter corrected.  

“I’m sorry, Lassie, when did you take on the role of Scooby Doo?  I can only keep up with one fictional dog at a time, man.”  Beads of sweat popped up on his forehead.  A muscle twitched in his upper arm.

“It’s the actual term for killing one’s sister,” Lassie sneered derisively.

Shawn opened his mouth to retort, but he coughed instead.   And suddenly he couldn't stop coughing, and his chest was being squeezed, and the muscle in his arm jumped again, this time painfully, and he promptly deposited a disgusting mixture of fourteen varieties of hors dourves on Lassiter’s shoes.  A strong hand grabbed his upper arm and kept him semi-upright even as Lassiter groaned, “These are $400 loafers, and they’re rentals!”

“Shawn!”  Juliet’s face had gone white, Shawn noticed through tears and haze as she surged forward and gently lifted his chin with her delicate hand.  

He struggled to answer her, but his chest was so tight, and his left calf muscle contracted then, and all that came out was a strangled cry of pain.

“Call an ambulance - now!”  Lassiter’s voice was far away, though Shawn could have sworn that the head detective was standing right by his side, keeping him from face-planting in his own caviar and cocktail sludge.

Vaguely, over the sound of screams and murmurs and cries of alarm, he heard Juliet’s voice, scarier than he’d ever heard it before - he’d never been so convinced she was about to murder someone before - growl, “What did you do to him?”

He never got the chance to hear if Aria Thornton gave up her dark little secret.  His eyes rolled up into his head, and, muscles twitching and lungs scrambling for air, he passed out.

***

He woke up to pain.

It was a slow process, getting his eyelids to cooperate, but he could feel a soft hand in his, and he would know it anywhere, and someone was crying.

When his vision had cleared enough for him to make out more than just blobs of color, he saw Juliet sitting slumped in a hard plastic chair by his bedside.  Sure enough, it was her hand in his.  But she was fast asleep, her neck crooked back at an awkward angle and small, adorable snores wafting out of her slightly parted lips.  So it wasn’t her who was crying.

His gaze dragged languidly to the right, and everything made sense.  Gus was in the chair next to her, quietly sobbing into his hands.  Poor bastard.  

Shawn spoke, his voice raw and trembling and the effort seemed to squeeze every bit of air out of his already starved lungs.  “G-Gus?”

Gus’s head snapped up, he leaped out of his chair, and in a loud voice reminiscent to an all-black hallelujah choir, he exclaimed, “Shawn!”

Juliet startled awake, her hand instinctively squeezing his, and he saw the worry in her stormy blue eyes as soon as they landed on him.  She smoothed his sweaty hair from his forehead.  “Thank God you’re awake.  How are you feeling?”

Shawn didn’t answer immediately, but let his eyes wander around the room, confirming what he already knew.  He was in a hospital - a private room - and there was a heart monitor beeping above him and an IV lead ran from his hand to a pole, where two different bags were feeding his veins with who knew what.  He took a moment to remember what had happened and shuddered internally when he thought of the kiss of death.  

It took everything he had in him to speak again, but he had to know where he stood, “S-so, more than b-barely poisoned this time?”

Juliet laughed, a short, manic sound of mingled relief and exasperation.  “Yeah, a lot more than barely,” she agreed.

Shawn didn’t get to enjoy his moment of validation, because his left pectoral muscle spasmed, knocking the air out of his lungs and sending bolts of agony through his chest.  It was like the muscle was twisting itself into the most complex pretzel known to man.  An agonized guuuh burst from his mouth and he grasped at his chest, as if trying to tear the pain away.

Gus was panicking now, tears still streaming down his face, and Jules looked stricken.  Shawn was certain he was actively dying now and tried to call for help.  The door to his room burst open and distantly, beneath the mound of pain that had erupted in his muscle, he heard his father’s voice.

“Jules - it looks like it’s his chest.  Massage it.  Remember, small, gentle circles.  Gus, pull it together, you’re just making him panic.”  And then he could feel Jules gently massaging the screaming muscle, and Gus hiccuped into relative silence, and his father was there, seated in a chair on the other side of the bed.  He grabbed Shawn’s hand - the one with the IV - and for a wild moment, Shawn was convinced his father was going to rip it out like he had the last time his son had been poisoned.

But instead, he held on firmly to Shawn’s hand and said, “Squeeze as hard as you need to, pal.  Ride it out.  It’ll be over soon.”

The heart monitor was screeching now, and a nurse ran in just as the spasm was beginning to ebb, leaving the entire muscle feeling weak and squishy like play-doh.  She injected something into one of Shawn’s IV bags and checked his temperature and fed him ice chips and told him to try to rest and be patient, that it wouldn’t be long until the spasms would stop.  She might have told him her name at some point, but he didn’t hear.

Whatever she’d given him made him sleepy, and he felt his twitching, tense muscles relax the tiniest of fractions, and the last thing he saw before falling asleep was his father’s face leaning over him.  He must have been hallucinating, because he could have sworn that his father’s eyes were red and puffy and that there were tear-tracks down his face.

***

The next time Shawn woke up, he was still sore, and his muscles still gave the occasional, defiant twitch, but he wasn’t in blood-curdling agony anymore, so it was a definite improvement.  This time when he woke, no one was crying, and his dad had washed his face, but his eyes were still rimmed with red.

“What happened to me?” Shawn asked, his voice weaker than he could ever remember.  “What the hell was in that lipstick?”

His dad chuckled humorlessly, not because anything was funny but because it wasn’t crying.  “You figured out it was the lipstick, then?”

“I’m psychic, dad, remember?”  Shawn had put the pieces together the first time he’d woken up, but he’d been too out of it to realize he’d made the connection.

Henry didn’t dignify that with a response.

“I can’t believe you went to a millionaire’s gala and almost died, Shawn!” Gus chided irritably.  “If I had been there -”

“You would have hyperventilated and passed out on your plate of hor dourves,” Henry finished dryly, and Shawn couldn’t help but grin.

Juliet was the one who brought the conversation back around to his question.  “She refused to talk, so we took her purse and had her fingernail polish, lip balm, and lipstick tested for toxins,” she informed him.  “We thought that she might have done it when she scratched you, but it was the lipstick that was poisoned.  The lip balm was actually a protective buffer between her lips and the lipstick so that the poison wouldn’t reach her skin.”  With a heavy sigh, Juliet revealed, “It was VX poison.”

“What’s that?” Shawn asked.  “It sounds like something from a spy thriller.”

“It’s a nerve agent,” Gus supplied.  “It can be made into gas, but it’s base form is about the consistency of gasoline.  It’s super fast-acting, especially when inhaled or ingested, even in small amounts like with you, and it causes muscle spasms, respiratory issues, nausea, headaches, fever, and a whole lot of other nasty symptoms.”

“But there’s a cure?”

“Atropine and pralidoxime,” Gus answered promptly, and Shawn resisted the very strong urge to tell his best friend to, for the love of every 80s movie they’d ever loved, get a hobby.  “Both were administered the second the results came back.  It was a close call, but thankfully they were administered on time - though it was touch and go for a bit.  The nurse gave you another dose of a muscle relaxer the first time you woke up.  The other drip is saline.”

“I guess the real question is how the psychotic rich girl next door got ahold of poison like that in the first place,” Shawn muttered, head swimming and eyes burning and body feeling like it had been run over by a monster truck.

Juliet answered promptly: “Lassiter was finally able to crack her.  Turns out she’s also got some contacts in the black market.  She had that tube of lipstick custom-made and infused with VX two years ago in case any of her many boyfriends cheated on her.  Surprisingly, she hadn’t used it until you came along, but when you exposed the truth, it was her way of getting revenge.   She knew there was no way she was going to be able to escape, so she decided to take you down with her.”

“Damn,” said Shawn, faintly.  He was drifting off again, but he was so happy to be alive, to see his friends - even his dad, imagine that! 

“Go back to sleep, Shawn,” Henry ordered.  “It’s going to take a while for you to heal, and you’ll need all the rest you can get.”

Not knowing what had come over him, blaming the poison and trauma for the words that spilled unbidden from his lips, he found himself asking, “And you guys will be here?  Next time I wake up?”  

Gus grinned and leaned over to give Shawn a one-sided fist bump, and Juliet kissed him delicately on the forehead.  His dad ruffled his hair in a manner that could almost be construed as affectionate if he wasn’t careful.

“You bet your ass we will.”

Overall, Shawn reflected as he allowed sleep to claim him, being fully poisoned fully sucked, but it was kind of nice getting a glimpse of just how much his friends and family cared. 

They could find other opportunities to show their love in the future though. Shawn had had enough of poison, barely, fully, or otherwise, for a lifetime. 

[anthrobrat]

The Great Chocolate Heist of 1945

Merry Christmas!! Hello @papersergeant-pencilsoldier it is I, your Secret Santa!! I am so excited I got to write a little 2nd Platoon BROT4 The Last Patrol extra scene for you. The story is a little weird (and not christmassy at all, sorry) but I do hope you like the friendship and hilarity of these boys!!

TLP BROT4, Rated G, 1500 words

“No patrol tonight, moving off the line tomorrow. Chuck am I dreamin?” Liebgott yells across the room as their leaders exit the room, followed quickly by Web and Jones.

“If you are, we all are.” They all shook hands and clapped each other on the shoulder.

The rapid mood change from anxious and angry to relieved and relaxed was palpable as everyone milled about, congratulating each other on their luck that day, and making plans for finally moving off the line. They all knew better than to get their hopes up, but it was difficult not to with the announcement Major Winters had just made.

Chuck had smiled for the first time since November, and everyone was caught in the good mood, not wanting to ruin it by mentioning that Winters had told them they were moving off the line twice since Foy and neither had panned out. But the Germans were very close to throwing in the towel at that point, so maybe this would be the last time they’d have to worry about falling artillery or snipers.

“So, are they gonna make us look like we’re preparing for this again tonight, or does this mean we get the afternoon off?” Babe asked as he pushed his chair back and cupped his hands around his metal tin of coffee, placing first one then the other leg onto the table.

“Lieb.” McClung walked up from his spot crouched against the wall across the room. “You should ask Web when he gets back. He left after them, I’m sure he’s got a better idea than us. Not like we’ve ever faked a patrol before.” McClung’s deadpan as he sat down at the table made them all laugh.

“You think Winters has either? He’s straighter than an arrow,” Lieb answered, and then snarled as an aside: “Although maybe Dog and Fox have been running fake fucking patrols this whole time. It would certainly explain a lot.”

As more guys filtered out of the basement to find other ways to entertain themselves, the room ended up with just the four of them at the table. Babe, Liebgott, McClung, and Chuck drinking coffee and smoking the Lucky Strikes that Luz had pilfered from somewhere or other.

“Guys, I have an idea,” Babe declared between his third and fourth smoke.

“Ah fuck, Babe, not again.” Chuck tipped his chair back and looked toward the ceiling. Lieb laughed, knowing exactly what disaster Chuck was thinking about.

“Nah, this is a good one,” Babe said, putting his coffee down and lacing his hands behind his head, trying to look confident. “Lieb, you think there’s more Hersheys bars in the stash you pilfered from yesterday?”

“I don’t see why there wouldn’t be, unless fucking Nixon ate them all.” Liebgott didn’t bother denying his transgressions. Anyone with eyes would have seen him the day before enjoying the spoils.

“So here’s what I’m thinkin’. We plan our own patrol tonight.” Babe raised his eyebrows like he had said something so brilliant that the rest of them should bow down or something. He picked up his cup and finished off his coffee, twirling the empty tin mug in the air.

“What are you, Billy the fucking Kid?” Chuck said, making Liebgott laugh while Babe scowled at them both.

McClung chimed back in. “Billy the Kid, huh? I see it, saying you want to sneak into CP to steal fucking chocolate. Just waltz right in?”

“You think it can’t be done?” Babe fired back, cigarette bobbing as he spoke, fingers twisting the mug around like he couldn’t sit still.

“I mean, the man’s got a point, McClung. It’s barely illegal, and we deserve it. Plus, ain’t no sign of Sobel with his ‘army property’ bullshit. I’m in.” Liebgott opened his jacket then, and pulled out a piece of paper with writing on one side. He unfolded it so the blank side was facing up and began to draw a sketch of the CP, with a big X where the chocolate had last been spotted.

“I guess we’re really doing this then,” Chuck sighed, before he let the front legs of his chair touch the ground again and leaned in to look at their amateur blueprints. He pulled the pencil out of Liebgott’s hand, marking up the map and motioning with his middle finger as he explained the plan they’d need to pull this off. “Here’s our perimeter. Babe you’ll be lookout, McClung you’re lead scout. Once you clear the rooms off the foyer, Liebgott and I will come through and--”

“Yea yea, we’ll check the last places chocolate was spotted, and if there even is any left we’ll grab as many as we can carry. I know my job,” Liebgott took the pencil back and tucked it into his ear before lighting another cigarette.

McClung took one more look at the map before folding it up and handing it back to Liebgott.

“So we meet outside OP2 at 2300 hours,” Babe stage whispered, “and if the coast is clear, the heist is on.”

“Babe, we’re stealing chocolate, can you calm down?”

“Chocolate or no fuckin chocolate, Lieb, it’s still a heist. What should we call it? A fucking patrol?” McClung put his hand out to Babe’s chest to calm him down, because who gets worked up over chocolate? On the other hand, it felt like they really didn’t have much else to live for at this stage of the game.

“Relax, Babe, we’re in, alright?”

“Yeah yeah, alright, Chuck. You better be there tonight. I’m counting on your leadership.” Babe winked and laughed, diffusing the sudden tension.

“Heard Lip’s getting his battlefield commission before we get back to base. You think they’ll have him transferred?” Lieb asked no one in particular as they all got up from the table and made their way back out to the street.

“Nah, I bet Winters’ll figure out some way to keep him with us at least until we cross the river,” Chuck said over his shoulder as they made their way back to their billets.

H-hour rolled around quicker than anyone had expected, with Babe the last to arrive from his outpost duty at 23:05.

“Sorry I’m late, I had to ditch Shifty. He got so suspicious I thought I’d have to invite him along.”

“It’s okay,” McClung nodded at him, “I already promised him I’d get him a bar.”

“You told fucking Shifty?” Liebgott yelled toward the sky. “Who else knows? You guys are the worst.”

“First off,” Babe scoffed, “did any of us actually keep our mouths shut?”

Chuck laughed and kicked his boot against the ground, and Liebgott gave them all an angry stare. Footsteps along the road made everyone duck into the adjoining alley.

When the footsteps had moved on, it was time to put their plan into action. Except no one moved.

“We sure it’s in there?” Babe asked, looking up at the darkened windows on the first floor.

“Fucking positive, Babe. Unless Shifty beat us to it, since people can’t keep their fucking traps shut.” McClung shrugged at Liebgott’s jab in the darkness, and Lieb pulled his map out once more and shined the flashlight on it. “Ok, if we go in this back door it’ll be about 50 yards in on the left.”

“I’d say it’s more like 75,” Chuck chimed in, trying and failing to keep the humor out of his voice.

“I just wanted a fucking bar of chocolate,” Babe interjected. “Lieb didn’t share any of his, and I promised Gene. I owe him a chocolate bar.”

“You told—“ Liebgott began to yell before he reined himself in, spun around, leveled a glare. “You told the Doc?”

Babe was about to reply when Chuck stepped between them.

“Where the fuck did McClung go?”

“He was just here, I don’t fucking know. You didn’t see him?” Lieb asked.

“Well I certainly didn’t see him, I was looking at your map.”

Just as their voices began to raise, the door banged open and out stepped their missing brother in arms.

“It seemed like that argument might take a while, so I went ahead and grabbed the chocolate.” McClung handed two bars each to his open mouthed comrades, who pocketed them silently.

“Well,” Babe stuttered at last, “I suppose that was a pretty successful heist.”

“No thanks to you.” Liebgott punched him to emphasize his point.

“Or you,” McClung said around a mouthful of chocolate. “Anyway I gotta go bring this to Shifty, I’ll see you fellas later.”

At that, McClung meandered off back down the alley, contraband chocolate in hand. Babe scratched his head, shrugged his shoulders, and ran to catch up. Chuck and Joe followed quickly behind, still laughing at the confusion on Babe’s face. 

“You think Gene will like my present? It’s not quite the Belgian chocolate that he gave me, but I still wanted to give him something.” 

“Babe. It’s chocolate. He’ll like it.” Liebgott slugged him in the shoulder. “But you’re a sucker for giving up your second bar of chocolate.” 

“Hey Chuck! You hear that! He says I’m a sucker! We’ll see who’s the sucker when I get stitched up before him.”

They all rolled their eyes, but Babe knew he was right. He also knew every one of them was going to end up splitting their chocolate with someone. He was just smart because he picked the medic.  

[elroymeg]

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[cakelanguage]

Merry Christmas @okay-sky! I’m your secret Santa for the @fmasecretsanta2020 #fmasecretsanta

I had an absolute blast writing this for you and I hope you like this RoyEd piece as much as I enjoyed writing it. Have a happy holidays and I wish you the best.

You can also read this on AO3

--

The snow was a foot deep and maneuvering through it was a pain in the ass, but Roy was determined to make it to the post office in North City. Normally, Roy rarely makes the trip unless he's on the last dredges of his food supply but the potential for one of Ed's letters to be there had him pushing onward. 

For the short amount of time he'd gotten to spend in Central, he'd spent a large amount of it enjoying the company of the Elric brothers, specifically Ed. It was like an old wound had finally stopped aching when he got to see the man. And he was now. A man, that is. A maturity he never thought he'd see from the older Elric permeated his actions. While he still had a temper he didn't bare his teeth at the smallest of teases. He seemed wiser now and Roy wondered what he'd experienced in this other world. 

His interest and desire to spend more time with Ed wasn't one-sided either. The man--amidst Roy’s own scramble to steal his attention from Miss Rockbell and Alphonse-- found him at all hours of the day to discuss anything. From alchemic theories to the property damage done while he was away, the two never seemed to run out of things to talk about.

When he'd been forced to return up North, Ed had been the one to suggest keeping up a correspondence through letters. Roy didn't mention that he’d have to essentially hike to the post office and instead happily agreed. Ed promised to write often and Roy said he'd do the same. 

And he intended to. 

Which brought him back to his every other day trek.

He didn't know when he'd receive his first letter so he just kept coming back. For the first time, Roy was thankful for the cane that the doctor suggested he get for strenuous exercise in case the scar tissue flared up. He'd been adamant about not using it for the longest time, but out here -- where he wasn't surrounded by people who unintentionally put him on a pillar-- using the cane didn't matter.

His breath puffed in the frosty air as he took a moment to rest his legs. He could already see the city so he'd only have around another 30-minute walk if he continued at the pace he was going. 

North City was as lively as it could be for one with near-constant snowfall. While the population consisted mostly of military personnel there were still plenty of families and small businesses dotted amongst the abundance of government buildings.

These little businesses felt like they’d been plucked out of a different location, the warm glow of the fluorescents glimmering through the large windows. Roy's favorite was a little bookstore that specializes in customer requests. They'd take a poll from an assortment of people to find out what they wanted and go from there.

Roy indulged in much of the literature they had to offer and the sweet family-run shop told him he was welcome to make any requests he wanted.

Ed would've salivated at the thought.

On the outskirts of the inner city lies the post office. It was never terribly busy which was a blessing so Roy had no trouble siddling up to the counter. 

"Well I'll be," the scruffy man at the counter whistled, "you're back again already."

Roy gave him a tired smile. "Glettner, I just don't want to miss the letter I'm supposed to be getting."

"I guess, but you don't live in the city so you gotta walk here." He shuddered. "Couldn't pay me to make that hike more than once a year and I've lived here for over a decade." 

"I want to be punctual."

Glettner rolled his eyes, but those eyes only held mirth in them. "Well Mr. Punctual, you're in luck, a letter for you arrived yesterday evening."

Roy wasn't sure what his reaction was but it garnered him a chuckle all the same. 

"Ah-ha!" Glettner cried victoriously and walked back over with the letter. "This person must really like you if they're willing to use four stamps and Express delivery." He shook his head. "Express is always so expensive.”

The letter in his hand was hefty with Ed’s tell-tale god awful handwriting on the front. He brought the letter close to his chest with a content hum. 

“Ugh,” Glettner whined, “Go read your letter somewhere else if you’re gonna be looking like that when you only read the cover.”

Roy sent him a flat look. “I’ll see you, Glettner,” Roy called over his shoulder, tucking the letter safely into his coat. “Stay warm.”

“Speak for yourself! Try not to get yourself killed walking to the post office you flame-brained moron.”

Glettner always did say the nicest things. 

Back in the relative safety of his cabin, Roy was able to settle down and open the letter. Carefully, he pulled the small bundle of papers jammed inside, out onto the table. Offhandedly he stoked the fire a little more with a snap of his fingers. 

Admittedly, he’d missed the ease that using his alchemy allowed him with certain tasks. 

Colonel Bastard,

Roy snorted and shook his head. He’d already told Ed he wasn’t a colonel anymore, but apparently, the fact hadn’t stuck in the shrimp’s mind. He wondered if Ed still had his infamous temper tantrums about his height. 

Something to find out later.

The other man seemed to have grown up a great deal in the past two years, but Roy doubted Ed would’ve been able to calm himself down when it came to his height and the lack thereof.

I hope this gets to you fast, and that you haven’t frozen solid up there. Havoc told me about your cabin and I’ll be honest: sounds shitty. But they did say you had a fireplace so maybe it isn’t too bad as long as you don’t move from in front of the fire. Though now that I know what your job entails I can honestly say that you might be fucked. 

Seriously, who wants to stand out in all that snow to watch for potential attacks from Drachma? That’s what Briggs is for. So get your ass back here before your ass freezes to a chair or something. 

He couldn’t stop the laugh that burst from him. The letter was just wholly Ed and it almost felt like the other man was here in person. 

Al wants me to tell you he says hi, so that’s from him. He’s doing okay, he’s kinda got everything figured out now. I mean he obviously did before, he was doing fine while I was gone. He’s made a name for himself even if he did kinda steal my look. 

He doesn’t need me anymore. 

The ink is smudged and blurred in spots and Roy’s heart clenched in his chest when he realized that those were probably tears. 

I expected it and I’m glad he was able to keep moving forward with everyone’s help. I don’t know. I guess I didn’t realize how that’d make me feel when you were here. You’re kinda distracting even when Al’s around.

No higher praise than being able to pull Ed’s attention away from his little brother. 

Resembool is the same, which is weird. Germany seemed to change every day. There were always new people coming through or some kind of showcase going on. Did I tell you about the rocket we were building? It’s hard to remember that I’m no longer in a world governed by the laws of “modern science” instead of Alchemy.

I wish you were here. I miss your stupid, smug face. 

Oh did he ache for Ed to be able to insult him in person. 

It’s your turn to write a letter.

-Edward Elric

Beside his name, Ed had drawn what he assumed was a self-portrait of him sticking his tongue out in a cartoonish style. Charming.

Roy set the letter on the table and rubbed at his eyes and pinched the bridge of his nose. Somehow, the letter only made him miss Ed more. He wanted to ease Ed’s worries and reassure him that he was needed. 

Well, he had a letter to write.

--

Fullmetal,

I thought telling you four times was enough, but maybe your ears were too tiny to hear me correctly. I’m not a colonel anymore so the name isn’t correct. Haven’t we known each other long enough to be a little less informal?

You’re right, it’s freezing up here, and staying warm is near impossible without the fire. I wear two layers of wool socks and I’m still wary that I’m going to get frostbite on one of my watches. 

Briggs is in charge of guarding our border. I’m just in charge of keeping watch on the trading routes that weave along the mountain valley for any sign of trouble. 

Al may not need you in the same capacity that he did, but I guarantee he’s happier than he’s been in the last two years now that you’re here. From what I’ve heard from both Hawkeye and Miss Rockbell, he always seemed to be looking over his shoulder for you when he’d accomplish anything. 

You are absolutely needed, and not just by Al. Never forget that Edward. 

Small towns don’t change often so I’m not surprised it seems the same. People grow older, but small towns keep to themselves for the most part. Every once in a while fresh meat joins the community and they’ll be a stir and things might change a little, but generally go back to normal quickly. 

City life is vivacious and ever-changing. A bigger place and more people means more changes. My aunt runs a bar and I remember how often the city would change around us. 

If by rocket you mean the one you released into that crowd of people, then yes I remember you telling me about it. But feel free to tell me again, you have a knack for storytelling that I didn’t think you’d have. 

I wish you were here too. I miss your impish face. 

-Roy Mustang

--

A week later, Roy received his second letter. 

Glettner gave him a wry grin and presented it to him with a flourish. “Your sweetheart replied,” he tittered, “should ask for a lock of hair in your next letter or a care package.” He winked at Roy. “Maybe something for those long, lonely nights.”

“Get your mind out of the gutter,” Roy grouched, “it’s not from a lover.”

Glettner sighed dramatically. “Well, certainly not with that attitude! You’re clearly pining, can’t you see it?”

He raised his only visible eyebrow at the man. “Really?”

The other man waved him off. “Nevermind, just get out of here. I’ll see you in a day or so.”

“Take care, Glettner.”

“Yeah, yeah, go read your damn letter.”

--

Bastard,

FUCK YOU, I GREW. 

Not that much Ed, Roy thought with a chuckle. 

I hope that’s a better name for you. And I’m not Fullmetal anymore, not really. Sure plenty of people are going to keep calling me that, but I’m not part of the military right now. Still gotta prove I’m not dead and shit. 

Do you know how hard it is to try to reinstate documents after they’ve listed you as dead? I was literally two seconds away from straight-up murdering a lawyer who was at city hall because he kept saying I needed more identification. Which is bullshit because I’m DEAD to the government. 

This would’ve been really handy when Al and I were running from the military, though. But not now! Luckily, it is being sorted out and I shouldn’t have to wait much longer before I have all my documentation in order.

That was good. Ed had just started the whole process when he left to return to his post and it’d given him a headache just thinking about it. 

So you lived with your aunt? Did you grow up in Central?

As much as I’ve traveled, I’m a hick at heart. I still enjoy the peace and quiet of the countryside more than the noise and life of the city. I can live in either though. 

A corner of his mouth lifts. Ed preferred anywhere he could read and learn without interruptions. That hadn’t changed.

Are you lonely up there by yourself? I feel like you’re probably spending way too much time criticizing all your past actions and moping. Fuck that. Tell me about something you want to do when you come back to Central. What’s on Roy “Smug Bastard” Mustang’s agenda?

-Ed

Oh, and thanks for saying that. I think I needed to hear that from someone. I’m glad it was you.

--

Ed,

I guess if you can so kindly call me something else, I can just use your name. And as much as I appreciate your affectionate nickname for me, you can just call me Mustang or even just Roy, it wouldn’t bother me at all. But if you insist on a nickname I suppose I can give you one too, shorty.

I haven’t had to deal with retracting a declaration of the deceased before so I honestly don’t have any advice for you. I’d suggest going through all the hoops that they line up for you to jump through even if a shortcut looks promising. Other people were claiming to be you for fame or what-have-you so they aren’t intentionally trying to be difficult. 

Why am I not surprised you actually thought about how useful the situation would’ve been back then… Maybe you’re getting predictable. 

I did grow up with my aunt as my legal guardian. Both of my parents passed away when I was a young boy and she took me in. It was a rocky start. I was mourning my parents and terrified of my new living situation. But Chris Mustang always did her best to make sure I was comfortable and taken care of whether it was food or new clothes.

But she also put me to work. I obviously couldn’t work at the bar, but I bused tables and cleaned the place once we closed for the night. 

Her bar doubled as an information network with her girls -- my sisters-- acting as spies while going about their business. People talk a lot during sex and will let their guard down if they feel comfortable. I learned my networking strategies from them.

I don’t know if I can imagine you as the typical hick. It’s something about all that rage and attitude that makes me think more of small town punks. But there is something nice about the quiet of the countryside.

It’s not I’m not I suppose I am a bit lonely out here. I don’t really have much communication to speak of besides your letters. They’re the highlight of my days. The only other person I normally talk to right now is the man who runs the post office. I feel like I’m disconnected from people nowadays. Whether that’s because I was part of a coupe that unsettled them or my demeanor is just off-putting. Let me know what you think. 

When I get back to Central, the first thing I want to do is look for an apartment. Then I’m not sure. Maybe go back to pursuing the title of Fruher. After the whole Homunculus debacle, I stepped down in a rush to… run as far away from what had happened as I could. 

After that… would you like to go out sometime? Get something to drink, eat a good meal with good company?

You’re probably going to have to fight to spend time with me at first. The team kept reminding me that when I was there that they missed me. But I’ll make plenty of time for you.

-Roy

--

“Roy, you have a package,” Glettner commented the third time he came into the post office that week. “Did you take my advice and ask for a token from them?” He leaned over the counter with a lewd grin. “There’s no telling what’s in here.”

Roy huffed and held out his hand. “Box, Glettner,” Roy ordered. He thought Glettner was funny and the man reminded him of an older, grayer Havoc with all his teasing and good-natured ribbing. It made him miss his team, though.

Glettner deposited the box in his hands before holding out a box cutter, handle-first to Roy. “Can I convince you to open it here? I can even let you use the back room for some privacy if you want.”

Roy shook his head with a put-upon grin. “You seem more excited about this package than I am.”

He shrugged “I don’t think you realize how boring it can get here. Usually the most exciting thing I get in this place is the military personnel transferring sensitive documents.” He scrunched his nose. “I don’t know, guess the whole thing makes my romantic heart sing.”

“You trying to get me to feel sorry for you so I’ll open the package here?”

“That depends, is it working?”

He chuckled softly, shaking his head. “Fine, take me to your backroom.”

Glettner threw a fist in the air and gestured to a door on the right. “Follow me, lover-boy.”

He grumbled but followed after the perky man. They weaved through the stacks of boxes and came across a desk. Glettner shoved a few papers to the side so Roy had a spot to put his package on. 

Roy set his box down and carefully ran the knife along the taped edges. He shifted through the newspaper that’d been carefully positioned around the gift. 

And what a gift it was. 

Nestled inside the box was a phone that was almost the exact one that’d sat on his old desk. He gently pulled it out of its protective paper. Now that he could see it fully he noted the wear on some of the parts. The rotary dial was a polished bronze and looked to be the newest piece on the phone. The body of the phone consisted of a few welded pieces of metal but the job was near seamless so unless Ed knew someone who could weld, he’d probably done it himself with alchemy.

He thumbed at the handset and couldn’t stop the grin that spread across his face. It felt like the same metal as Ed’s new arm was made of and he knew Ed had made that choice on purpose. 

“They sent you a phone?” Glettner asked, interrupting Roy’s casual admiration of his gift. 

“I’m pretty sure it’s so we can call each other in case we don’t want to wait for the mail system to deliver our messages,” Roy explained. 

The other man turned his attention to him sharply. “So I won’t see you anymore?”

Roy shook his head. “No, you’ll still have to see me,” he nodded his head at the phone, “Even with a phone I won’t have a guaranteed connection with where I am, but it gives us the option if we…” He paused, his smile going from soft to joyful, “to hear each other’s voice.”

“Aw fuck,” Glettner sniffled, “you’ve got that mushy look on your face.”

Roy’s face closed off. “Better?”

The postman shook his head. “I think whatever you two are, it makes you better.” He rubbed at his nose and shrugged. “Take that as you will.”

--

Setting up the phone was relatively easy after he finagled a makeshift antenna to the roof of the cabin. He’d picked up a few pieces of scrap steel and transported his load back to his cabin. With a quick transmutation, he’d constructed an antenna that would ideally not break if the storms got bad. 

Ed had suggested he use steel in his letter and if he trusted anyone when it came to metal knowledge it’d be the Fullmetal Alchemist, Edward Elric.

He glanced over at the letter he’d set on the table and reread what Ed had written.

… Winry and Al pointed out to me that I could be calling you if I didn’t want to wait to get a letter. But when I asked Riza how to call you she told me you didn’t have one.

What kind of bullshit is that? I figure everyone has a phone but then you get relocated and haven’t bothered to get a phone in the two years you’ve been gone?

There's a large inkblot on the dot of his question mark as if Ed had paused to gather his thoughts but forgotten to pick up his pen.

 Sounds like you were in a bad place. 

Ed had always had a special gift of understanding why Roy did what he did. Even more so now that he'd matured more and had gone through a similar mindstate.

I get that. I’ve been there. But I’m taking away some of this forced isolation you’ve coveted for yourself. 

I’m not telling you that you have to start talking to people now that you have a phone, but try. You may have lost an eye, but you aren’t blind. And you have tons of people who care about you and I know you can see that so don’t keep shutting them out.

Like that. 

Everyone else had given him ample space to adjust to his vision change and his disillusionment of the government he'd put so much time and effort into. But that space became hard to contain and soon he'd pushed almost everyone behind the protective wall he'd crafted for himself. 

He needed someone to tell him that what he was doing couldn't-- nor should it-- continue. 

I’ve written everyone’s number down on the back of this letter just in case you forgot, old man. I hijacked the Rockbell’s landline so I can have a phone in my room. Feel free to call whenever after seven. 

I don't care if it's ass o'clock in the morning, call me if you need me or wanna talk or whatever. 

Talk to you soon, hopefully.

-Ed

He didn't use the phone for a good three hours until the hands on the clock were just shy of eleven. He tried two fingers of scotch to help him sleep, but it left a smoky aftertaste in his mouth that brought up too many memories of being a walking crematorium. 

He finished spinning the dial and waited for the call to be picked up or ignored. It wasn’t that he thought Ed was lying about being able to call whenever, but Ed couldn’t guarantee he’d be by the phone at all times.

There was a click and then a familiar voice echoing through the receiver. “Rockbell Automail, the store hours are from 9 a.m. to 6 p.m. but if this is an emergency we’ll see what we can do,” Ed recited before continuing with a knowing tone, “Unless this is a certain soldier out in the middle of nowhere up North who received his package and decided to give me a call.”

Roy wasn’t one you would call a religious man, but he considered praying for patience. “Hello, Edward,” he conceded. 

“Fuck… holy fuck Roy,” Ed said with the sort of casual blasphemy only he would dare. There was a shuffling on the other end of the line. “You actually called.”

“Time hasn’t made you any less explicit,” Roy teased. He imagined a metal middle finger jerked at him in return. 

“It’s been what? A month?” Ed snorted, “If my cursing hasn’t changed since I was a kid then a month has no chance of changing it.”

He grinned and propped his head up with his hand. “You’re right about that.” He looked around the room for something to focus on, landing on Ed’s letter. “How are you?” The question came out softer than he’d like, but it’s what he meant.

Ed made a noncommittal noise. “It’s weird. The old lady and Winry keep treating me like I’m still a little kid. Maybe it’s because they didn’t get to see me grow up over the last two years. But they’re doing their best to adjust.”

Roy hummed in understanding. “It’s not dissimilar to a person coming back from deployment. They know the person who left, not necessarily the person who comes back.”

“Yeah, I guess… It’s still taking some getting used to. How come you didn’t treat me like I was the teen you last saw?”

“You’re a brat, but it was easy to see you’d changed.” That golden hair pulled back into a ponytail instead of his signature braid. The broad shoulders that filled out his brown trenchcoat and the bookish outfit underneath. He might mourn the loss of the man’s leather pants, but he looked every inch of the man he’d become. His thoughts made him brave. “You’ve become quite the looker, Ed.”

A sputter from the other line had Roy chuckling into his shoulder. It’s enchanting to hear Ed’s embarrassment over the phone and a longing yawned in his chest to see the ruby flush against the man’s cheeks. To see the way he’d turn incredulous eyes to gawk at Roy like he’d spoken gibberish. To see Ed fight the smile that’d reveal his teeth in joy instead of a threat.

He just wanted Ed. Here, with him. Or him with Ed. Together. 

Glettner was more aware of Roy’s feelings than he was.

“-up! I hope you’re not mocking me you ass,” Ed grumbleing finally making it through Roy’s thoughts. 

“I’m not mocking you, you really are beautiful.”

The line remained silent for a stretch and Roy wondered briefly if he’d pushed Ed a little too much. That he’d made the man uncomfortable with his sudden forwardness. 

“You look pretty good yourself,” Ed mumbled.

His heart skipped a beat in his chest and his cheeks grew warm. “Not much to look at compared to you,” Roy managed to say.

“Yeah, okay, sure,” the eye roll unmistakably tacked onto the statement. “I’m guessing you couldn’t sleep.”

“Couldn’t I have called you because I wanted to hear your voice?”

Ed actually laughed at that. “You could and I’m flattered, bastard, but I can hear the exhaustion in your voice.”

“Alright, yes I can’t sleep.” 

“What do you want me to do about that?”

What indeed. He already felt better after hearing Ed’s voice so perhaps more of that? “Tell me about your day.”

“As long as you're willing to pay anything the Rockbell’s might be charged for the long-distance call, I’ll talk all night.”

“Just until I fall asleep should do the trick.”

“Well get comfy and I’ll tell you about my return to city hall.”

Roy settled as comfortably as he could on his couch and closed his eyes, letting himself drift upon the lilts and steadiness of Ed’s voice. 

--

As they reach the two-month mark of their separation, Roy was getting antsy. His transfer back to Central seemed to be in a stalemate. Too much silence from both sides for Roy’s patience to tolerate. He already sent another letter to Ed to inform him that he still didn’t have a timeframe for his return. 

With no set date for his relocation, he got wrapped up in his thoughts. The snow bit angrily at his cheeks and he’d started moving his post office trips to every three days because he couldn’t get his body to plow through the snow. The cabin’s walls were thin and the flames fanned uselessly in the fireplace no matter how close Roy put himself to the heat source. 

Loneliness he’d been able to ignore for years was near intolerable now. He’d talked to his team, reconnected with Riza, or at least started mending the relationship that’d been damaged in the wake of Bradley’s defeat and the loss of his eye.

But ever since his realization during the phone call with Ed, nothing seemed to fill the Ed-sized space in his heart. He pondered on the feelings he’d developed for Ed, questioned why he loves him but only came up with Ed himself as the reason. 

He took a sip of his tea when he heard a knock on his door. 

The suddenness of the noise was enough to startle him into almost dropping his mug and he turned a wary eye to his door. He didn’t get visitors, not out here. The only time anyone had visited him it’d been about the strange phenomenon that ultimately led to Ed returning home to them. 

He doubted something that severe would pop-up again in such a short span of time, but stranger things had happened so he couldn’t rule out the possibility. 

Slipping on his gloves, he cautiously approached the door. He waited until he heard another knock before he openned the door, his fingers poised to snap.

And there’s Ed.

Snow and ice clung to his clothes and he noted that Ed’s trench coat seemed to now be lined with a fur of some kind. He took in Ed’s wind-chafed skin and red nose, saw the ice crystals that had attempted to attach themselves to his lashes. 

This couldn’t be real. He must’ve fallen asleep and he’s dreaming. He had to be. 

Except Ed was waving his hand obnoxiously in his face, grinning at him with the pride of a show dog. “You still in there or did I break you?” Ed asked.

He gaped uselessly at the figure that stood in front of him. “Ed?” He rasped, still not believing his eyes. 

“The one and only.” He tilted his head to the side, his smile going lazy. “Are you gonna make me stay out here much longer? Because I’m pretty sure my toes have fucking frozen off and I only have five. I really can’t lose them.”

Roy snapped his jaw shut with a click and stepped back to let Ed in. “Yeah, of course, come in.”

Ed blustered in with all the hesitation of a tornado, stripping out of his dripping coat and unwinding the scarf from around his neck, hanging both over his kitchen table. 

“Thank fuck you have a fireplace,” Ed grunted, holding both of his hands out towards the heat source. “If Winry and Granny hadn’t hooked me up with this new automail I would’ve really gotten frostbite.”

Roy nodded absent-mindedly, still stuck on the reality that Ed was here in his cabin. “How-How did you get here?”

Ed’s forehead furrowed. “Well after I took a train up here I asked around if anyone knew where I’d find a soldier with an eyepatch, the postman pointed me in the right direction.” He shrugged. “Then I walked here.”

He'd have to thank Glettner the next time he saw him. Or avoid him at all cost because the man was never going to let him live this down. He probably felt like he was some sort of matchmaker, guaranteeing Ed made it to him.

“Through all the snow?”

The man squinted at him. “Yes?” It came out as a question more than an answer. “Are you okay? You’re really stuck on this whole ‘Ed’s here with me’ thing.” 

And what’s he supposed to say to that? That he’s still convinced that this could only be a dream because this sort of thing doesn’t happen to him. “I just never expected you to come here.”

He gets a bemused expression from Ed for that. “Why not? I got your letter.” He huffed and lounged on his couch. “So they can’t even give you a date?”

He shook his head. “Not now, maybe in a week or two, I’ll get an answer from them.” Roy shuffled awkwardly for a moment trying to decide what to say. “Do you want some tea?”

Ed snorted, his nose crinkling. “I could go for some tea, but I’m fine with something stronger if you've got it.”

He cocked his head to the side and crossed his arms. “Don’t you mean if I’m feeling generous?”

“Nope,” Ed chimed.

“Let’s start with tea,” Roy snagged the only other mug he owned and poured Ed a cup, “get you warm first. After that?” He handed the mug to Ed who took it gratefully. “We’ll see about alcohol.”

Humming in agreement Ed took an aborted sip, cursing as the liquid scorched his tongue. “Fuck, dammit you could’ve warned me it was this hot,” Ed grumbled, glaring at his mug. 

“I didn’t know you were expecting cold tea.”

“Bastard.”

“Brat.”

The jibes were gentle despite themselves and Roy felt the familiar contentment in his being that he’d been getting when he was with Ed in any capacity. Whether it’s a phone call or in-person or even in a letter. Ed remained a stained glass masterpiece in his heart.

They sat in campanionable silence. The flickering of the fireplace casted a red glow around the room except for Ed. Ed’s always an exception. Instead of the red overlay across Ed, he glowed gold. 

His skin -- tanned and scarred-- reminded Roy of wedding rings and sun-warmed bronze. His eyes of finely crafted jewelry and the lace-gold details in famous paintings from the west. And his hair. The finest silk, bundled into a ponytail that trailed to at least the bottom of his shoulder blades.

He desperately wanted to say something to hear more of Ed’s voice. A voice that had haunted his mind for the past two years. A desperation to take, take, take until he had all of Ed. 

“I didn’t get to say this before,” Ed said, finally breaking their silence. “But I’m a fan of the eyepatch.”

From anyone else, he would’ve ignored the comment, but Roy knew that Ed was being serious right now. “It was a necessity after Bradley got it,” Roy said, setting his cup down and bringing a hand to the patch. “It isn’t a pretty sight, even Hawkeye had trouble looking at it.”

“I doubt that,” Ed took another sip from his drink, “if anything she probably still feels guilty that you lost it at all.”

He made a noncommittal noise. “No one should feel guilty about this, I got it taking Bradley down. And I survived.”

“You did.” Ed grinned at him. “And I think the patch makes you look rugged.”

Roy snorted and quirked a brow at him. “Sure that’s not just from living out here for the past two years?”

Ed’s eyes rolled so hard that Roy’s surprised they didn’t just pop out of his skull. “You haven’t grown any stupid facial hair yet so I’d say it’s the patch.”

“You don’t think I’d look good with facial hair?”

The tips of Ed’s ears flushed. “I didn’t say that,” he mumbled, “I am saying you’d look god awful with a moustache.” 

There is a niggling temptation to grow one just to get on Ed's nerves but he pushed that thought aside. He heaved a dramatic sigh. "I suppose I'll refrain for now." 

Ed laughed and it reverberated through him with the warmth of an embrace. He wanted to bottle the noise up and tuck it into the spaces between his ribs. Roy couldn't remember the last time he felt this content.

The other man was still looking at him when he focused back on their conversation. "Can I see it?"

Roy’s face closed off and he shifted awkwardly on the couch. “You… you want to see it?” He clarified because surely he'd heard wrong.

Ed shrugged and scooted a little closer. “Why wouldn’t I?”

He asked like it should be obvious to Roy, but doesn’t comment on it. Roy couldn't bring himself to deny Ed something that Roy was readily willing to give. Wanted to give. And maybe there's a small part of him that wanted to show someone. To not have someone shy away from the topic. To look at all of him now and not who he was before. 

Maybe he didn't just leave Central because he wanted to still help his country through a corrupt system.

Maybe he was tired of hiding.

He reached his hand up towards the strings that held his eyepatch in place but hesitates. "Are you sure you want to see it?" He wondered if he would want to see it if this was someone else. He knew for sure that he’d want to see Ed. Roy swore to himself that he’d never hesitate to look at Ed’s scars, not a single one of them would be skipped by his eyes.

Ed's eyes softened and he moved himself closer to Roy. They were barely a foot away from the other, their knees knocking together. The solid press of Ed’s automail knee against his own was surprisingly grounding. He wonderd if anyone else felt this way about Ed’s prosthetic limbs.

Ed didn't hesitate when he cupped Roy's face with his metal hand. He expected the harsh metal to be icy to the touch – unlike his leg that was still covered by the thick material of Ed’s pants – but it was heat-licked by the fire. Roy couldn't help but lean into the touch with a pleased sigh.

Mirth twinkled in Ed's eyes like honeyed gold. He ran his thumb along the bottom edge of his eyepatch. "I'm sure."

I want to see you. That’s what Roy heard inbetween Ed’s words. It didn't need to be said. Ed had already proven his surety with his touch, but it comforted Roy to hear it all the same. 

The satin ties of his eyepatch were easy enough to undo after he loosened the knot and soon the patch was fluttering down into his lap. He kept the eye closed for now, letting Ed see the mess of scars from the enucleation and trauma from Bradley’s blade. He watched Ed’s face for any reaction through his good eye, watching as he took in his face as a whole.

The first brush of Ed’s metal hand on the scars had him letting out a shuddering breath. His heart was pounding erratically in his chest and he couldn’t stop his sudden panic. It’s just Ed. Edward was the only one here with him. It’s just them. Together. Here. Now and not then. This steel was warm and nothing like the biting edge of a blade.

A second hand joined the first, this one with calluses and worn nails that worked their way through his hair. Instantly, he found himself relaxing under the ministrations of Ed’s talented fingers. Losing time or just forgetting everything that wassn’t Edward Elric.

“Come on, lemme see those eyes of yours, Colonel Bastard,” Ed urged, his thumb teasing along Roy’s cheekbone.

Despite himself, Roy found himself smiling. “Not a colonel anymore, Fullmetal,” he reminded Ed, “and I only have one eye.”

“Not Fullmetal anymore, Roy.”

He could hear his name on Ed’s lips for the rest of his life and Roy would never stop feeling his heart skip a beat. “Ed.”

Slowly, he opened both of his eyes and went back to watching Ed’s face. The breath hitched in Ed’s lungs for only a second before it settled back to normal. Roy couldn’t blame him. The clear conformer that prevented his eyelid from collapsing into the socket gave a clear view of the hollow interior. He hadn’t bothered getting a prosthetic eye, not when he’d been out here by himself for so long. His doctors still weren’t sure when he would even be able to wear one given the damage done to his eyelid and ocular cavity.

Instead of the multitude of reactions that Roy had prepared himself for, Ed gave him a gentle smile and cupped his face with both hands. “There you are.”

“How do I look?” Roy asked as though he couldn’t see the way Ed looks at him.

Maybe he couldn’t, because there’s a touch of uncertainty to Roy’s question that he couldn’t write off. Whether it’s over the way the scars mar his handsome face or over what Ed might think about his appearance, Roy couldn’t decide.

“Like you can take on the world,” Ed said without hesitation.

Stealing himself, Roy closed the distance between them and sealed their mouths together. Ed’s lips are chapped from his journey through the snow, but warm and solid against his own. He didn’t intensify the kiss, keeping it chaste since Ed hadn’t started to kiss him back. 

Reluctantly, he pulled away from Ed trying to catch the younger man’s eyes. Did he ruin this? “Ed?”

“Kiss me again,” Ed ordered but didn’t bother waiting for Roy to act, instead grabbing two handfuls of his shirt and smashing their lips together.

It’s messy, too much tongue and their teeth clack painfully against each other like Ed wanted to devour him, but he dived right in. He took control of the kiss, guiding Ed’s lips to slide against his own at a more sedate pace. The corners of his mouth turned up when Ed sighed against his mouth, a near-silent moan escaping him. 

Roy trailed a hand up Ed’s back until he reached the end of the man’s ponytail. He wrapped the silken strands around his fingers and tugged lightly. Ed splayed his hands against the plains of his chest, releasing his shirt from his grasp. 

When he found himself desperate for oxygen, he pulled away once more. Ed made a displeased groan but sat back enough to stare at Roy.

The affection and happiness that sparkled in Ed’s eyes was overwhelming and he couldn’t help but tell Ed exactly how he felt. “I think I love you,” Roy whispered.

Ed smiled back at him, his lips kiss-bruised and tempting. “Why do you think I’m here, Roy?” 

He didn’t have to say it because Ed always showed you how he felt. So when Ed tilted his head back, Roy capitulates to the silent request, sealing their mouths together again.

A flame captured by the glint of gold and steel.