#((I SURVIVED ANOTHER NUTCRACKER MONTH!! | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

padme-parker · 4 years ago

Text

Collide / Anakin Skywalker x Reader (Chapter 4)

Summary: You go to Ilum to retrieve your Kyber Crystal, things don't go as planned.

Warnings: Anakin being a cheater, cursing, my bad humor, nothing else that I can think of

Word count: 5.1k

A/N: After a month, I’m back with another chapter. Also do y'all know how Anakin and Padme have a love theme, I’ve decided to give Anakin and Y/N a love theme too :P It’s Tchaikovsky - Pas de Deux (The Nutcracker) listen here. I know practically nothing about classical music but I thought it suited the story well :))

Tags are open btw

Read ch 3 here

“So be selfish, understanding that you’re a universe inside a vessel.” - If You Decide to Leave Someone by Miles Carter.

Four months have passed since your arrival on Coruscant. Some days you spent hours combat training with Anakin, improving your skills. On other days you’d be with Obi wan, learning how to fully hone the force and use it to your advantage. One thing he taught you was how to meditate, to connect with the force without any restraints. It often eased your mind and body after a long day of training. Other times, it was a distraction. You’d hear voices- harsh whispers surrounding you, feeding into your mind. You did your best to ignore them, it was easy at first. But the more you tried to ignore them, the more persistent they became. You weren’t exactly sure what they were saying nor what they wanted from you.

Luckily, today was a good meditation day. Your head was clear, no thoughts or voices lingered. No thoughts, head empty. You let the force flow through you, feeling light and comfortable. You didn’t know how long you were meditating for, before a knock broke your train of thought. Setting yourself on the floor, you briefly dusted off any dirt particles.

Opening the door, you saw the faces of Anakin and Obi wan, “Well, what a pleasant surprise. What’re we doing today?” They usually summoned you to the training room with the holocomm they had given you, so you knew today was going to be different.

“We are going to Ilum so you can finally obtain your kyber crystal and build your lightsaber.” Obi wan said.

Holy shit, I can finally build my saber! I mean I built one at Galaxy’s Edge, but this is a real kriffin’ lightsaber.

Anakin waved his hand in front of your face, “Alyra, are you alright?”

“Huh..? Oh yeah, I’m just very excited is all. I can finally properly train with you guys.”

Anakin is quick to roll his eyes, “and I can’t wait to beat you again.”

“Oh shut up, with my lightsaber you won’t be able to withstand my moves nor my power. I will be invincible.” You shoot your eyebrows up in a suggestive tone before giggling.

“Alright let’s get going, we don’t have all day to fool around.”

Your arrival to Ilum wasn’t a warm welcome, quite the opposite to be exact. The air on Ilum was fairly different from the stale air on Coruscant. Here, the air was crisp, almost enough to make you cough. Key word, almost. You hugged the parka closer to your body, trying to retain your body heat. Even though you were wearing mittens, you could feel the tips of your fingers begin to stiffen from the cold.

Anakin, did you have to land the ship so far?

As much as I’d love to land closer, Obi wan and Master Yoda have said the trek is part of the experience.

You let out a groan in the mental bond you shared. Is part of the experience freezing my ass off before I can even get to the temple? In return Anakin lets out a snort.

Oh stop being so dramatic, you’ll survive.

With the passing months, you also had time to get acquainted with the bond the two of you shared. Neither of you knew why or how you shared a bond, only that it was getting stronger each day. The more in tune you became with the force, the more your connection to him grew. After spending so much time with Anakin, you began to feel his emotions, sometimes his thoughts become your own. You did your best to remain closed off within the connection, not wanting him to find something out that was crucial to the mission.

The trek to the temple seemed long, but it went by briefly with Anakin and Obi wan leading the way. The wind was becoming harsh, you began to have difficulty standing up straight. Ilum heavily reminded you of Antarctica. Although you had only been there a handful of times, it was never fun.

“Are we almost there?” You grumble, cursing at the snowflakes that were getting caught in the ends of your hair. The duo stops before turning to look at you. “Actually, yes we are. But not quite yet.” Obi wan has his arms crossed against his chest, his right pointer finger on his chin while he closely examines you. He squints his eyes at Anakin, as if they’re having a silent conversation, in return Anakin raises an eyebrow.

“What? Why are you looking at each other like that?” Your question was left unanswered as Obi wan and Anakin continued to stare each other down. Oh for the love of god, just kiss already. They persist with their staring match before Obi wan shakes his head, letting out a huff.

“Alright, we have a task for you.” He pauses to see if you’d oppose, only to continue when he realizes you won’t. “We want you to use the force to open this door.”

Of course, you had to act stupid and pretend that you didn’t know of it’s existence. “What…? What door? I don’t see a door, it’s literally a big wall of ice.” You wave your arms around, acting as if they're ludicrous. Obi wan rolls his eyes, “Yes, we know. But we have been here before, you have not. Just trust us, use the force. It’ll guide you.”

You quickly nod your head before closing your eyes and taking a deep breath. Outstretching your hand, you reach out to the force, beckoning it from the unknown. You imagine the ice barrier coming down, level by level. It doesn’t take long before you feel a rumbling, the door dropping open.

“Well done, Alyra.”

The three of you move forward, entering the temple. You were marveled at the sight of it. Grand statues lined the room, they were massive and seemingly perfectly crafted. It almost looked like their robes could move if there was a strong gust of wind. Walking towards the center of the circular room, you noticed Master Yoda sitting down.

“Greetings Master Yoda.”

“Time to harvest your crystal, it is. Protect yourself, you will. Build your own lightsaber, you shall.” He stops, taking out his lightsaber and igniting it. “The heart of the lightsaber, the crystal is. Focuses the Force from the Jedi, it does.” Master Yoda puts away his saber, only to hold up his hand towards the ceiling. He uses the force to open a window, allowing light to flow into the temple. The ray of sun hits a large crystal, which intensifies the light. The ice soon melts, turning it into liquid, giving you an opening to the crystal cave.

Anakin walks up to you, throwing a worried look your way. “You don’t have long, Alyra. As daylight ends, the door will freeze over again, and you will be trapped. With our situation, we can’t afford you getting trapped in there. So be quick. Trust in yourself, and trust in the force. Good Luck.” He gently squeezes your shoulder before letting go.

You trepidatiously walk towards the entrance, looking at Anakin and Obi wan once more. They both give you a nod. You face the entrance again, taking a deep breath and straighten your back before entering. Well, there’s no going back now.

The cave is dark and cold, it makes you shiver. You can’t place your finger on it, but something about the cave isn’t settling well with you. It was like there was another presence there with you. You tried to brush it off, continuing your journey to find your crystal.

It felt like you were wandering around the cave for hours before you felt something, a tug. It was calling out to you. You decided to follow the voice, which probably wasn’t a good idea. But you were entrusting the force with your succession.

The whispers are unidentifiable, like a muddle of voices were trying to reach out to you. Some of them held lightness in their tone, while others weighed you down, the darkness of their words. You were now running through the icy halls of the crystal cave. It was getting difficult to focus, each whisper leading you in a different direction. Taking a deep breath, you willed yourself to calm down. One by one, the voices disappeared, until there was one. It was a feminine voice, light but cautious.

Good, follow my voice. It will guide you. Her voice affirmed.

“Who are you?” You asked her. You received no answer as you stumbled into an opening, you stood in front of a lake, pieces of ice floating around. Just as you were turning to leave, a glimmer caught your eye. Found ya. Scanning your surroundings, you concluded that you could either: jump from ice piece to ice piece, swim, or wait for the lake to freeze over. With time running out, the last two options weren’t viable.

Well, here goes nothing. You backed up a little bit before taking off, giving yourself a boost as you jumped onto the block. It wobbled, unsteady from the weight put on it. Not wasting more time, you jumped onto the next block until you made your way to the center. You let yourself catch your breath before walking towards the crystal. A low hum could be heard, increasing in pitch as you got closer. You swiftly took off your mittens, your fingers immediately feeling the cold. As soon as you touched your crystal, the humming had stopped, only to be replaced with the loud voices. Distracted by the intrusion, you dropped your crystal, your hands placing over your ears as you let out a scream.

They were taunting you, screaming at you.

Worthless!

Scum!

Imposter!

You begged them to stop, begged the woman to help. But she didn’t, the voices got louder with each passing second. Your body could no longer bear it, passing out from the exertion. The coolness of the floor felt soothing as you lost consciousness.

You surveyed your surroundings, it was foreign to you. In the distance you could hear alarms blaring, hurried footsteps echoing in the near barren hallway.

The Force around you was dark, almost suffocating. You didn’t need to turn around to know that there was someone behind you. You could feel the anger radiating off of them, but also the anguish and pain.

You let yourself bask in the moment, it had been months since you allowed yourself to feel his force signature.

“A-alyra? You're alive?”

“Anakin?” You pause, trying to get a glimpse of him, “I’m sorry… I am so sorry I couldn’t save you.”

You turned around, grasping your lightsaber. Before you could even activate it, you were knocked back by the Force. You fell on your bum, your lightsaber flung across the hall.

“Don’t do this. Please, don’t do this. I know there is still good in you”

There was a pause, before a modified voice answered, “You are wrong. There is only darkness within me. It has set me free.”

The last thing you saw was a red blade coming your way, before everything turned dark.

From the corner of his eye, Obi wan could see the nervous tapping of Anakin’s foot. “Is there something wrong, Anakin?” Obi wan asked him.

“I’m just… worried for our... new friend. If you think about it this is sorta her first time off planet, in a new environment within a different galaxy. We already had her open the door, and now she’s in there alone, exhausting herself trying to find her crystal.” He replied. “Believe me, I have faith in her. But she has just recently explored her connection with the force.” Anakin begins to pace, “We should’ve waited. She wasn’t ready.”

Obi wan’s eyebrow quirks up as he sends Master Yoda a look. It was the look they shared whenever Anakin worried about Senator Amidala’s whereabouts, “How is she? Is she alright? Obi wan do you think we’ll see her soon?” Obi wan and Yoda weren’t blind to the younger Jedi’s feelings towards Padmé. However some council members weren’t as perceiving as they were nor did they know Anakin like they did. They both trusted Anakin and Padmé enough to not act upon their feelings (Or so they thought). But now with Alyra in the picture, Obi wan knew that Anakin was falling for her. Even if Anakin himself didn’t know it yet.

He glances at the entrance, almost covered in ice. “Well it’s too late now Anakin. She’s already inside.” The moment he says that, Anakin stops pacing. “What? What’s wrong Anakin?”

He hesitates before answering, “Nothing, I just thought I felt something.” He turns away from the older Jedi, his brows furrowed as if he was in pain. He tried to reach out to you, only to be met with silence.

Alyra, are you alright? He received no reply, which only fueled his anxiety. Going into the cave would only make questions arise. Anakin had no choice but to wait for your return.

You awoke with a gasp, your chest rising and falling heavily. What the hell just happened? You didn’t want to dwell on it, fearing that it might happen again. Taking your crystal, you left the lake area and tried to find your way back to the entrance. It was tough since the voices had basically guided you, and now you were wandering around aimlessly.

Um, excuse me miss?? Hello..? Are you there? You felt stupid talking to yourself, but then again this was the Star Wars universe that you were in. Nothing was stupid anymore, everything that was logical was thrown out of the window.

Follow your heart, it will lead you to where you need to be. What the hell was that supposed to mean? You know what it means, Y/N. Wait did I say that out loud? How does she know my name? Don’t forget, I’m in your head. I can hear your thoughts. I know who you are and why you are here.

So can you offer me some guidance then? You questioned her.

I will, but for now you should be focused on leaving this cave. After that, she went silent. Her help only served to further confuse you.

You continued your journey towards the door, when you were suddenly hit with a wave of emotion, worry. You knew that it wasn’t your own, but instead Anakin’s.

Anakin, are you alright? What happened? You asked him.

All of a sudden, it felt like you could breath. Like a haze had been lifted and now you could see clearly. Oh thank the makers. I’m fine, are you? I tried to reach out to you but I couldn’t. What happened in there, Alyra?

I’ll tell you later, right now you need to help me get out of this cave.

Alright. Anakin glances at Obi wan and Yoda, making sure they aren’t paying attention to him before sitting on the floor. He takes his flesh hand and puts it on the cold ground, allowing himself to connect to the temple while keeping his connection to you. Reach out, feel the walls around you. Follow them and they will guide you to me.

Placing your hand against a wall, you were taken aback from how warm the ice felt. It almost felt familiar, like you had known this feeling your entire life. It made you feel nostalgic- warm and giddy. You couldn’t resist the smile that was making its way to your lips. It felt like home.

Promptly, you found yourself at the entrance of the cave, the door completely sealed by ice. You had no other choice but to run through the wall of ice, otherwise you’d be trapped for another rotation. You securely gripped your crystal before taking a few steps back, running full force towards the wall in hopes of making it to the other side. You threw your arms up, shielding your face from any shards of ice that could possibly injure you. At the last second, you shifted your body so your shoulder could take the brunt of the blow. Your mind involuntarily let out a shriek as you collapsed to the floor for the second time today.

Anakin is quick to help you up, “Are you alright?” Sheesh, I feel like I’ve heard that question one too many times today. You quickly dust yourself off before giving him a curt nod.

“Yeah, I’ll be fine. Let’s get off this planet before we all freeze.” You said. The other Jedi let out a hum of agreement, making their way out of the temple.

Once you were on the ship, you prepared yourself for takeoff. During your expedition to Ilum, you paid no mind to Anakin’s piloting skills, too busy fangirling in a supply closet you had locked yourself in. That also meant that you didn’t get to see what hyperspace looks like. So this time you sat yourself in the co-pilot seat, ignoring the incredulous look Obi wan gave you.

You took your time making sure you were comfortable and strapped in before getting settled. “Entering hyperspace in 3...” As Anakin slowly pulls the lever, the stars around you begin to blur. “..2..” The sheer force of the jump makes your body jolt back into your seat. “..1.” The meshing of blue and white is all you can see. From the corner of your eye, you can see Anakin turning his head toward you. His lips move to say something, but you can’t comprehend it, too mesmerized by what you’re seeing. Never in your life did you think you’d ever see something so breathtakingly beautiful.

“First time?” Anakin’s voice breaks you out of your reverie.

You let out a chortle, “That obvious, huh?” You said with a smirk on your face.

“Just a little... “ He takes a quick glance at you before returning his gaze towards the spectacle. “You know, no matter how many times I enter hyperspace, I don’t think I’ll ever get tired of it.” He admitted.

“Often times, it’s the small things we take for granted, Anakin…” You paused, trying to think of what to say next. “Only god knows how much I’ve taken for granted.”

Anakin gets out of his seat, motioning for you to stand up too. “C’mon, let's go build your saber.” You obliged, standing up without delay. Obi wan goes to sit down in the pilot’s seat, while Anakin tells R2 to stay with him. Your footsteps echo in the hallway, the hum of the ship was obtrusive.

“So, your people believe in a god?” His question caught you off guard. Of all the things he could’ve asked, it just had to be about this.

“Yes. There are people all around my world who believe in different gods, some even have different sects within their religions.”

“What about you, do you believe in a god?” He asked

“I’m...not sure. It’s just like how some people don’t believe that the Force is real. They have the freedom to think that, without anyone forcing them to. But I do believe in a higher power, the universe if you will. We’re all given a chance to live for a reason, no matter how small or big the purpose.” He leads the two of you into a big open room, you recognize it from the moment the door gilded open. It was the room where the younglings had built their saber. “In a way, I guess my belief of the universe is similar to your beliefs of the force. We were chosen for this lifetime, to do what we need in order for life to go on. Some people were given life to do good, while others to cause harm. The universe truly does need a balance for it to continue. Life is often something we take for granted, Anakin. To be alive is to feel, to love, to fear, to become attached-”

He interrupts you, “But that’s everything the Jedi code goes against.”

“I know. But a life without love, fear, attachments, emotions, is no life at all. At that point you're just fighting to survive, what becomes of your purpose? Are you now just a mindless soldier, a puppet? What comes after your inevitable win or loss? The universe will not wait for you, or for me, or anyone.” You examine the room, walking up to one of the walls you notice the different sabers displayed. “Believe me, I know a life without love and attachments, a life overpowered by fear is awful. It led me down a dark path, I did things I cannot take back. I’ve.. taken lives that I cannot give back. Just like how there is a balance within the force, there needs to be a balance within yourself and your emotions. You cannot have peace without compassion and passion.”

“What exactly are you implying?”

“I’m just saying that the Jedi order has its faults, just like everyone and everything else within this universe.” You wanted to say more, but couldn’t. You feared that if you continued talking you would expose information you couldn’t risk letting out. “Anyways, shall we?”

He looks deep in thought, before nodding his head. He guides you over to Huyang- who you hadn’t noticed was in the room until now.

“This is Huyang, he is an architecture and lightsaber designer. Place your crystal on the table.” Anakin tells Huyang who you are, all while the droid takes in your presence.

“She’s quite old to be building her first saber. No worries though, you aren’t the oldest client I’ve had. Inside my memory banks, I contain a record of every lightsaber ever made, and the jedi who fashioned them” He pressed a button, bringing up a hologram of an abundance of lightsabers. “Which will you choose: a simple grip? The curved approach? One inlaid with the bone of the Cartusion whale, pastillion ore, or black onk? Well? From the Battles of Rashfond, to the Peacekeeping of Parliock, to our very own Clone Wars, the lightsaber is a Jedi’s only true ally.”

“Actually I have a different design in mind, but thank you for the recommendations.”

“Very well, I’ll be here waiting if you need assistance.” The droid said. You thanked him before drawing a blueprint of your saber. Anakin walks over to you and studies the blueprint.

“It’s unlike any saber I’ve seen. How’d you come up with the idea?”

“Technically it’s not mine, I got the idea from..” Ezra Bridger, but I can’t tell him that, can I? “..George Lucas. He told me that if I had designed my saber this way, it would help me greatly during my time here.” You disclosed.

“A blaster and lightsaber in one, how smart. I’ll bring the parts you need.” He said. You sat silently as he went to get your materials. I can’t keep lying to him. If anyone deserves to know the truth, it’s him. But would he even believe me? What if I tell him and he calls me crazy, the mission and the universe would be screwed. What if- A loud clang breaks you out of your trance, Anakin sets a crate full of supplies onto the table.

“You know, you never told me what happened to you in the cave.” He says as he pulls a variety of saber parts out of the crate.

“I’m not quite sure what happened to be exact… I remember touching my crystal and then blacking out. I had a dream, but I can’t really recall what happened. It was just… so weird.” Of course you had remembered your dream vision, which meant that you weren’t going to succeed. Shit, what the hell is gonna happen? He was going to kill you for stars sake. You could sense Anakin’s doubt, his need to press on further, but he decided not to.

A comfortable silence surrounded the two of you, that was until Anakin’s holocom went off. “I’ll be back… I have to speak to Obi wan. Huyang is in the back if you need help.” He left without another word, leaving you alone with the droid. You continued to build your lightsaber as Huyang mumbled to himself.

Instead of going to meet with Obi wan, Anakin locks himself in a supply closet, making sure no one sees him before he enters. He places his holo device on the floor, backing up to give himself room as a hologram of his wife pops up.

“Ani!” She enthusiastically says.

“Padme, I’m sorry I missed your call earlier.” He apologized, rubbing the back of his neck with his flesh hand.

“It’s alright, I’m just glad you're here now. How was your day, you seem kinda off.” Padme emphasized.

“It’s been… eventful. Do you remember that new Jedi I was talking about? Yeah, well we went to Ilum today so she could retrieve her crystal. It was stressful to say the least, I’m just glad it’s over.”

“I guess that would explain it.” She said.

“Explain what?”

“Like I said Ani, I’m not sure what it is, but your vibe just seemed off, like you were anxious. Maybe even a little bit worried.”

“How’d you know?” He asked.

“I’m your wife, Anakin. Just looking at you, I could tell something was off. I don’t need to be force sensitive to know when you're upset or when something has happened to you.” She explained.

“I’m sorry, it’s just been so long since we’ve seen each other, Padme. I really miss you. How are you? How's our kid doing?”

“Me and the baby are doing great. We both miss you dearly, I just wish you were here with us right now.” She said as she stroked her small bump.

“So do I. I wish I was there with you on Naboo, we would be in the Lake Country living our best lives.” Anakin sighed dreamily, his hand hovering over her bump. “I’ve got to go now Padme, I love you.”

“I love you more, Ani.”

Anakin smiles to himself as the hologram of Padme fades away, we will be together soon.

By the time Anakin returns, you have already finished your saber. You haven’t ignited your lightsaber yet, wanting the first time to be during a duel with him.

“Are you ready for me to beat your ass?” You asked him.

“Only in your dreams, sweetpea.” He countered, seemingly in a good mood.

He ignites his saber first, awaiting for you to do the same. You ready yourself in attack position before pressing the button. To yours and Anakin’s surprise, your blade isn’t blue nor green. But a bright, warm, magenta pink. Your eyes are wide as you take in it’s color.

“Oh just wait ‘til Master Mindu sees your saber.” Anakin said. You were still processing the color of your saber. What does this even mean? You thought your saber would be blue, not basically the same color family of that purple headed grape you were supposed to kill. I am sooo confused.

Anakin uses your distracted state as an opening for his strike, he swings his saber. It nearly touches you, that is until you block it using your saber.

“What the hell!” You shouted at him. “Are you crazy?”

“Oh come on, you know I wasn’t going to actually hit you. Where’s your faith in me?”

In the trash, where it belongs. You let out a huff and pulled your saber back, gracefully twirling it in your hands. You see Anakin’s eyebrow slightly twitch but think nothing of it, instead going in to attack him. He regains his focus and blocks your attack. The two of you go at it for a while before you become tired of it. Sure, you trained with the Avengers AND the jedi, but training with the Jedi for the past four months was so much different than training with Nat or Bucky.

You let out a groan, tossing your saber to the ground, “Ugh, I’m done.” You turn you back, ready to walk out of the room. As you make your way towards the door, you feel a strong metal hand pull you back.

“Rule number one, never turn your back on your opponent.” He retorted, a slight rasp to his voice.

“Yes I know that. But when I say I’m done, it means I’m done.” You rip your hand out of his grasp and continue walking towards the door. Anakin grabs your elbow, but this time when he turns you around, you place your foot at the back of his right one. You swiftly move your foot towards his, making him lose balance. What you didn’t expect was to come tumbling down with him. You land on top of him, your legs placed on either side while his metal hand grasped your hip.

In one motion, Anakin flips you over so that he’s now on top. His legs rest between yours, slightly pushing them open. His right hand still has a firm grasp on your hip, as his flesh hand is placed atop your cheek, delicately stroking it.

“Anakin, what are you doing?” You whisper, it feels like there was a toad in your throat.

“To be alive is to feel.” Is all he said before he leans down and gently presses his lips to yours. His lips are plush yet rough. The kiss is slow and passionate, it ignites a fire in your lower belly. You rest your hand at the nape of his neck, while you use the other to prop yourself up. Slowly, you trail your hand up towards the crown of his skull before lightly pulling his hair. He lets out a breathy moan and grinds down.

When his lips finally release yours, he lays his head on your cheek, trying to catch his breath.

“I-” The sound of someone walking towards the door made both of you snap out of your trance. You push Anakin off of you as you retrieve your saber just in time for the door to fly open. Your cheeks feel warm as Obi wan stares at you.

“Are you two alright? I thought I heard a thud come from this area.” He asked

“Yeah, we’re alright.” You answer him. “Now if you’ll excuse me, I’d like to go rest.” You didn’t wait for either of their replies as you scurried off to your designated room. Throwing yourself onto the uncomfortable bed, you resisted the urge to let out a groan. You see, while your bed at the Jedi temple looked like a sack of rocks, this bed actually felt like a sack of rocks. You recalled the day’s events as you lied back, gently touching your still tingling lips.

To be alive is to feel.

read chapter 5 here

------

As I was writing the kiss scene, all I could imagine was Huyang just staring at them as they kissed on the floor, just absolutely scarred and horrified. I had to giggle.

#anakin skywalker #anakin skywalker x reader #anakin skywalker x you #anakin skywalker fanfiction #anakin skywalker imagine #Anakin Skywalker x Padme Amidala #Padme Amidala #obi wan kenobi #master yoda #anakin skywalker series #Avengers #natasha romanoff #Bucky Barnes #star wars #star wars fanfiction #star wars imagine #star wars x avengers

58 notes · View notes

ericsonclan · 4 years ago

Text

Making Some Music

Summary: Aasim and Ruby have a special moment alone with tea and some playful flirting.

Read on A03:

“Are you ready, my dove?” Aasim asked, closing the music room doors and turning to look at his girlfriend.

“Just about,” Ruby looked up from the tea set she’d placed upon the folding table they’d brought into the room. It wasn’t much of a set, just two cracked mugs and a teapot with half of the spout snapped off, but still it made Aasim feel fancy. He’d also been able to squeeze into a facsimile of a suit jacket made for a production of My Fair Lady performed at Ericson over a decade ago. Ruby had been able to find a maid’s uniform that mostly fit her. The dress went well past her knees and only half closed in the back, but neither of them were focusing on such details.

Sitting down together upon the couch, the two smiled at each other fondly as Ruby poured the echinacea tea for the both of them. Aasim had found the purple flowers a few months ago and brought them back for Ruby. She’d been very excited at the discovery, dedicating a corner of one of the planters to the blossoms. The vernacular for them was purple coneflowers and Ruby they were incredibly helpful for medicine. She and Aasim had soon found that they made a strong tea as well, one the couple usually combined with fresh mint when they had their secret tea parties.

Although there were a few such as Prisha or Omar who might enjoy having tea as well, so far the couple had kept these tea times private, fearing that if the secret was shared even once everyone would soon find out and they would never be able to enjoy such intimate privacy again. When they had tea together, the world outside faded away for just a few minutes and life felt blissfully normal.

“This batch has a particularly strong kick,” Ruby commented. She took a sip from the teacup she held lightly between her hands, the delicate handle long gone.

“Indeed,” Aasim murmured, raising his own cup to his lips. There was a large chip missing from its left side. Rather than avoiding it, Aasim had gotten used to drinking from that region of the cup before the tea spilled upon the floor. They chatted for a time about this and that: how chores had gone today, future projects such as the orchard they were hoping to form with the seeds Louis and Omar had brought back from a recent caravan. As they spoke, Aasim noticed a sort of pink netting poking out from Ruby’s skirt which had tangled and gotten caught up around one knee. “What exactly is that?”

“Oh, this?” Ruby nodded toward the pink material. “I was in the basement a few days ago looking around for some twinkle lights I thought I’d spotted down there when I came across another old costume box. I figure the stuff in it was from a production of The Nutcracker considering how many mouse costumes were in it. But I found this as well and figured it might do a good job poofing up my dress. Do you like it?”

Now that he looked closer, Aasim could see that Ruby’s maid outfit looked fuller than usual. “Quite impressive. If possible, it makes you look even more radiant than you did before,”

“Aww, stop that,” Ruby chuckled, giving her boyfriend a playful push. “You always say the darndest sweet things, especially during teatime,”

“I only speak the truth,” Aasim replied, looking at her with love. In a world so cruel and dark with no sort of future for them outside these walls, why not lavish all his affection upon the girl who had proven to surpass each and every one of his dreams? Ruby pulled him out of the tedium of daily life and into a world of hope where real progress could be made and visions achieved. This beautiful, brave, hard-working girl deserved every compliment Aasim could ever come up with to give her. Being with her, it really felt as though they had been able to turn Ericson into more than a survival outpost. It was home.

Ruby’s eyes glimmered, something more mischievous taking root in them. “Aasim,”she murmured, playing with the hem of her dress. “Are you feeling… frisky?”

The question set Aasim’s heart racing, his throat going dry despite just finishing his cup of tea. He nodded, setting his cup aside for a moment and awkwardly clearing his throat. “Of course,”

“Then let’s get started,” Ruby bounced to her feet, beginning to pour another up of tea. Aasim settled back on the couch, grabbing up the nearest book that lay on one of the arms of the furniture. This was a game they’d played together many times since discovering these costumes. Aasim wasn’t sure exactly what it was about seeing Ruby in a maid outfit that got him so worked up. Perhaps it was from reading Pride and Prejudice and the rest of the stack of Jane Austen books left behind in Miss Martin’s room time and time again. He’d taken to reading them aloud to Ruby at night and sometimes during teatime as well until they’d made their way through the entire set together. Ruby seemed to enjoy them just as much as Aasim did, something about the elegance and refinement of a bygone era entranced them.

After pouring the tea, Ruby began to dust the furniture with a scrap of an old shirt she kept tucked in the pocket of her maid uniform, humming to herself as she worked. As she wiped off different things and picked up trash off the floor, Aasim pretended to be absorbed in his reading. In truth he’d read the same sentence about five times now, his eyes constantly wandering over to his girlfriend, watching as she bent over or took particular care shining some knickknack atop the mantle. After a few minutes she turned to him with a smile. “Room’s all finished, sir,”

Aasim looked up from his book slowly, his eyes coldly examining the room. “I think not. Look at this place. It’s still filthy,”

A false pout took over Ruby’s lips as she looked at him, hands on her hips. “Well sir, perhaps if you didn’t treat it like such a pigsty it would look better,”

“What was that?” Aasim set aside his book, rising from the couch. “I’ll have you know that I keep my house up to the highest of standards as befitting a gentleman such as myself. I thought that you felt the same when it came to cleanliness, but perhaps that’s not the case,”

Ruby gasped in mock indignation. “I’ll have you know I’m one of the best-known maids in this entire county! Now if you ain’t happy with how the room was done, I’ll just start right on over again and prove you wrong!” She returned to her work with an added fervor, bustling about and rearranging this and that as she went.

Aasim couldn’t help but smile to himself. Even when she was trying to pretend to be someone entirely different, Ruby couldn’t help her Southern accent slipping through all the stronger when she got into character. He loved that about her. Slowly he began to follow her round the room, picking up each and every object that she cleaned and judging it silently. Ruby’s eyes met his, a playful smile crossing her face as Aasim began to draw closer and closer to her. Eventually they’d made a full rotation of the room, standing before the piano as Ruby began to dust off the keys. Aasim reached out, his hand brushing a stray curl away from her cheek.

Ruby pulled back with a dramatic gasp. “Why sir! What kind of an action was that? Are you making a move on me while I’m busy dustin’ and cleanin’ your parlor?”

“Don’t act coy with me. I’ve seen the looks you’ve given me as we’ve played our little game of cat and mouse right round this very room,” Aasim’s hand slipped round Ruby’s waist, pulling her closer as the other played with the zipper on the back of her outfit. “You, my dear, are a naughty, naughty maid,”

Suddenly a voice came from out in the hallway. “I’ll be there, later, Clem! There're a few things I want to do first!” Louis. He wasn’t supposed to be back from hunting yet. What on earth had led him to return so early? The footsteps were almost upon them, Louis talking to himself as he fiddled with the music room doors. “Ah, finally! Just me and the good old pia-” His words froze in his mouth as his eyes came upon the sight before him: Aasim and Ruby in full costume, wrapped in each other’s’ arms, Ruby pressed against the piano as Aasim’s hand was in the middle of unzipping her dress. “-No…” Louis murmured to himself, his sentence awkwardly finishing as he closed the door he had just opened.

There was a moment of tense silence, Ruby and Aasim sharing a look of fear as they wondered what Louis would do next.

Then the dreadlocked boy’s voice rang through the hallway once more. “Clem! You won’t believe what I just saw!”

“Shit,” Aasim swore, wildly wriggling out of his jacket before running toward the door. He couldn’t let Louis blab about this to everyone else at the school. “Louis, stop! It’s not what you think!” He sprinted out into the hallway in an attempt to cut his friend off at the pass. Ruby could hear their continued arguing as she awkwardly tried to zip her dress back up.

“It’s not what I think?” Louis retorted, the glee clear in his voice. “Oh ho ho, dear Aasim, looks like you’ve corrupted our sweet Ruby in your time with her,”

“No, it’s not like that at all! We were- having tea!”

“Is that what the kids are calling it these days?” Suddenly Louis’ tone shifted, turning to one of dread. “Wait. Oh god. My piano. You guys haven’t…?”

"What? No! We were just standing by it, I swear!”

“What’s all this about the piano?” Clementine’s voice came through the hall.

“Nothing!”

“Clem, I just saw the wildest thing when I opened the music room doors!”

“Louis, I swear to God…”

Ruby sighed. So much for their special teatimes. There was no keeping them a secret now. Still, perhaps it was for the best. Instead of hiding away from the rest of the school like they were hiding some big secret, perhaps now they could simply be honest and upfront when they needed some alone time. Considering how often Louis and Clementine and Violet and Prisha snuck off to be alone, Ruby was sure they’d extend her and Aasim the same courtesy and discretion they’d shown them. For now though, it was best to go out there and settle this fight. Taking one last sip of tea, Ruby squared her shoulders and stepped out into the hallway to set the record straight.

#rusim #clouis #fanfic #twdg #twdg aasim #twdg ruby #twdg louis

5 notes · View notes

echoes-of-realities · 5 years ago

Text

I'll keep you warm (underneath the christmas lights)

* * *

[ao3] // [Fanfiction]

be my fire in the cold (and I’ll be waiting by the mistletoe: [Tumblr] // [ao3] // [Fanfiction]

Summary: Santana hates being in the audience of anything because she wants to be backstage managing the show instead of just watching it. She hates it even more when it’s a show that she used to run.

One-shot in the be my fire in the cold (and I’ll be your mistletoe) universe.

Notes: The final editing of the last chapter of the leather jacket fic has been going uhhhhhh let’s say Slow read: impossible atm because of writer’s block for the final scene because I want it to be perfect lol so instead I thought I’d do a small Christmas thing instead.

Trying to cure writer’s block for one fic by writing another? In my writing process? It’s more likely than you think.

Title from “Keep You Warm” by Sam Tsui and Kina Grannis.

Santana decided that she hates sitting in the audience of anything—movies, shows, speeches, you name it—when she was really young. After falling in love with stage managing when she was eighteen, she quickly figured out it’s because she wants to be backstage managing the show herself.

Looking back on her childhood, a lot of things suddenly clicked for her—kind of like when she realized she was very definitely really, really gay and looked back on her pre-teen years and realized exactly how many crushes she had actually had on girls throughout middle school. Her mom used to take her to Columbus whenever they had a little extra cash, treating herself and her daughter to whatever musical or play or dance troupe happened to be touring through Ohio that year, and she used to love and hate those mother-daughter outings in equal measure. She loved spending time with her mom, but she hated the shows itself. She would never have told her mom it, because she hated upsetting her mom more than anything in the world, but she found it near impossible to actually sit through those shows, because she was always impatient and annoyed—realizing it was because she wanted to be the one in control of the show was so relieving because she could finally explain to her mom why she was always hyperactive as soon as the theatre went dark and the show lights went on.

Her mom, of course, had suspected that her daughter was just impatient and desperate to be a part of the show somehow, because mom’s are like that, and took her daughter squirming and sighing throughout the entirety of every single show they saw together in stride—it was good that Maribel Lopez had the patience of a saint and years of experience as a nurse exerting restraint, because whoever was unlucky enough to sit on Santana’s other side had difficulty containing their annoyance at the fidgeting teenager beside them.

She hates sitting in the audience even more when it’s a show that she used to run; especially because she spent nearly twelve hours every single day for a whole month last year running the show she’s currently watching. And she’s even more impatient and desperate to head backstage for this particular show then she is when it comes to a show she hasn’t stage managed before.

In other words, it’s basically torture for her to sit in the audience and forcefully resist the urge to jump up and sneak backstage to take over the show, but she doesn’t really think that Quinn would appreciate that, considering that this is her first run as the production stage manager and not just an assistant.

But Santana knows too much about the behind the scenes of George Balanchine’s The Nutcracker to be content just watching from the sidelines, and if her neighbours’ annoyed glares are anything to go by, her twitchiness is more than a little obvious and definitely more than a little annoying.

Thankfully, the show is well into the second act by now, which means there’s just the Waltz of Flowers, the re-entrance of the Sugar Plum Fairy and her cavalier, the Finale, and the bows left, and then Santana can stop jiggling her foot up and down in the audience and annoying her seat-mates. She’s always been the type of person who has to be doing something, and watching a show when she could be managing it instead is just frustrating in a million ways.

It feels like she blinks and the cast are coming out to take their bows, and then—finally—all the audience members start filing out of the theatre. Santana grabs the bouquet of flowers hidden under her seat and checks them to make sure they aren’t crushed too badly; it’s not like she has a very good reputation for having pristine flowers because something always ends up happening—whether a freak rainstorm or an uneven sidewalk or a drunk on the subway getting too close—but she’d like the bouquet to look like they hadn’t gone through a garburator for once in her life.

A couple of the stems are bent in a way that looks like one of her seat-mates stepped on them, but other than that, the flowers are actually in decent shape, which is a little surprising.

She weaves her way impatiently through the crowd of shuffling audience members still blinking blearily in the too bright house lights after over two hours spent in the dark. She knows this theatre like the back of her hand, so it doesn’t take her long before she finds her way to the back of the theatre. Even though it’s been a year since she ran this show, she’s still a familiar face around the theatre, and security barely gives her a second glance before waving her backstage.

She waves greetings to some of the cast members who were recast this year, avoids the sound guys like they have the plague, and stops to playfully make fun of how Quinn’s running the show, before she finds her way back to the principal hallway. She follows the familiar sound of banging to the end of the hallway, dodging around racks of costumes and props and half-dressed cast members, before she reaches the door she’s looking for.

The door is slightly ajar, so she pokes her head through the crack and almost laughs out loud at the sigh that greets her—the Sugar Plum Fair is half dressed in her bodysuit and a pair of old, ratty sweats that Santana is almost positive were buried in the bottom of the hamper this morning, and her blonde hair is still pinned up but her tiara is tossed haphazardly on the dresser beside a couple of dirty makeup wipes.

She’s smacking her ballet shoes against the wall with a candy cane sticking out of her mouth, and Santana takes a moment to smile at the nostalgia of it all, before she clears her throat.

The Sugar Plum Fairy glances up with a focused furrow to her brow, one that immediately clears into surprised delight. “Santana!” she gasps around the candy cane dangling from her lips, blue eyes sparkling above scrunched up cheeks, “What are you doing here?”

Santana grins, and her chest still spasms and flutters like it did the very first time she met those blue eyes. “You didn’t think I’d miss your last show of the year?” she teases as she steps halfway into the room, keeping her back in the doorway to try and keep the bouquet hidden.

Brittany rolls her eyes and carelessly tosses her ballet shoes on the coffee table that Santana’s ate countless lunches and suppers at, crossing the room to greet Santana with a quick peck around the candy cane in her mouth, leaving a sticky line of mint across Santana’s cheek. Santana wants to be annoyed, because she hates sticky candy, but Brittany’s smiling at her and her eyes are surprised and happy and she can’t bring herself to feel even the tiniest bit annoyed. “I know you didn’t want to,” Brittany says, “but you kind of have a show to run at the same time as this one, Ms. I-Made-My-Broadway-Debut-As-Production-Stage-Manager-At-Twenty-Seven.”

Santana just shrugs nonchalantly. “I’m sure they can survive one show with Zizes at the helm.”

Brittany narrows her eyes and puts her hands on her hips, which stretches her bodysuit distractingly tight across her torso, and it takes Brittany clearing her throat a couple of times before Santana’s eyes snap back up to hers—she’s a little self-satisfied, which kind of defeats her attempt at a reprimanding look. “Please tell me you didn’t waste a sick day on watching a show you’ve already seen a billion times before.”

Santana’s grin widens and she shrugs a little. “Who’s to say I didn’t book this day off months in advance because I knew it’d be your last show.”

“I wasn’t even cast months in advance,” Brittany scolds, but there’s a tiny, pleased smile playing at her lips that she can’t quite bite back.

“Maybe I just believe in my girlfriend a whole lot,” Santana shoots back, and before Brittany can even open her mouth to continue their bickering, Santana produces the bouquet of flowers from behind her back and offers them to Brittany.

Santana can actually see the way that Brittany practically melts, all retorts dying on her tongue as she slowly takes the bouquet from Santana with glowing eyes. “You can’t buy my love, you know,” she teases softly, and Santana doesn’t bother hiding the way she basically preens like a parrot seeing their reflection in a mirror at the smile on Brittany’s face and the love glowing in her eyes.

“They’re the best flowers I’ve ever gotten you,” Santana says proudly.

Brittany laughs a little in the middle of sniffing them, accidentally pressing a couple flowers into her lips at the motion. “Only three broken stems,” she acknowledges with a wide smile, “That’s a new record.”

Santana grins and rises up on her toes expectantly, grinning when Brittany playfully rolls her eyes as she takes the candy cane out of her mouth and ducks down to kiss her, soft and sweet and slow.

Brittany pulls back achingly slowly, and Santana kind of wishes this moment could last forever, even though she gets to kiss Brittany like this every single day. “I should get changed and then we can get out of here,” she says, her minty-sweet breath fanning across Santana’s slightly dazed face.

Santana blinks a couple times before blushing under Brittany’s knowing smirk. She closes the door with her hip and busies herself with her phone while Brittany quickly strips out of her bodysuit and into her comfy clothes—it’s nothing she hasn’t seen before, but she knows that if she so much as glances at Brittany, her plans for the evening are going to fly right out of her head because Brittany is beautiful and distracting and basically impossible to resist.

Brittany appears beside her barely five minutes later, her candy cane back in her mouth and Santana’s favourite scarf wrapped around her neck, her blonde hair loose and flowing over her shoulders as she zips her jacket up. “Ready to go?”

Santana nods absently and steps out into the hallway, waiting for Brittany to grab the bouquet of flowers off the coffee table and lock her dressing room door before they head down the hallway. Brittany bites into her candy cane and crunches it loudly, and Santana can’t help the tiny smile on her face, because even though she usually finds it annoying when people chew hard candies, she finds everything Brittany does endearing and amusing.

They wave goodbyes and wish Merry Christmases to everyone they pass on their way to the back exit of the theatre, skipping the crowd of people probably still lingering at the front entrance. The cold wind sweeps right through them with a swirl of snowflakes as they step outside, causing them to both shiver and huddle together as they make the trek back to Santana’s apartment, where Brittany’s been spending so much time at, that Santana’s not sure if her girlfriend can even call the apartment she used to share with Mercedes hers anymore. It had gotten lonely, Brittany had admitted, once Mercedes moved in with Sam back in September, and Santana had hinted at the fact that her apartment—which was a little closer to the theatres they both worked at—had more than enough room for the two of them. They’d been quietly intending to move in together without actually saying anything aloud since then, but Brittany’s lease won’t be up until January, so Brittany’s mostly just been using her apartment as a storage space while all her clothes and toiletries and important things are slowly accumulating at Santana’s apartment over the course of the past couple months.

Brittany’s eyelashes are dusted with snowflakes and her lips and cheeks and ears are more red than usual against the freezing wind and Santana’s never been more in love in her entire life.

Brittany doesn’t say anything when Santana silently tugs her to a stop just to kiss her, but she looks a little bit windswept and a whole lot adoring when she pulls away and they continue on their way. And, when Santana pulls her into a chaotic grocery store, she still doesn’t say anything about it, even when she smiles wide and bright and happy when she recognizes the ingredients for cinnamon buns and World Famous Pierce Hot Chocolate and movie snacks.

They make it home around five thirty, the heat from Santana’s apartment nearly painful on their frozen thighs as they kick off their boots by the mat and hang their jackets on the coat rack. Santana disappears with the groceries and Brittany’s bouquet of flowers while Brittany is still struggling to escape from her scarf, and by the time she hangs up all of her winter gear, Santana is standing in the entrance to the rest of her apartment with a shy smile on her face. Brittany blinks in confusion before slowly stepping forward to take her girlfriend’s outstretched hand and allows her to pull them both through the kitchen and into the living room.

Brittany gasps at the sight before them, and some of the nerves in Santana’s stomach ease into proud delight at the wonder on Brittany’s face. She turns to admire her work, and can’t help smiling a little bit too, knowing that all her rushing around that morning after Brittany left for the theatre was worth it.

The living room is lit only by Christmas lights and the Home Alone title screen on the television and the fairy lights around the bookshelf and the quickly fading winter sun shining weakly in through the window, the kitchen and hall lights flicked off to give the apartment a soft glow. The tree in the corner was the result of Mercedes and Sam’s help; they left Manhattan yesterday to go spend time with family for Christmas, and they had offered their tree to Santana for the rest of the holidays, knowing that Santana was planning on surprising Brittany with a decorated apartment for Christmas Eve. It had been hiding in Santana’s spare closet until this morning after Brittany left for her show, and while Santana’s decorating skills leave something to be desired, it does its job of brightening the living room with a Christmasy glow. The tinsel and glittery trees on the windowsill are courtesy of Mike and Tina, who had answered Santana’s desperate plea for help sometime around eleven with fond eye rolls and no small amount of teasing. The rest of the living room—Christmas patterned blankets and the cookies on the coffee table and the small singing stuffies on the back of the couch and the small stack of presents under the tree—are all Santana though, and she surveys the living room with pride swirling in her stomach.

Brittany turns to Santana with eyes that sparkle in the dim glow of the Christmas decorations, and Santana’s stomach swoops a little at the love that sparkles in her favourite blue eyes.

“I know we’re still not all that into Christmas,” Santana explains, only a little bit bashful under Brittany’s adoring gaze, “and we’ve both been so busy with our shows lately that we haven’t really had time to do anything festive or anything. But I figured we should still get into the spirit at least a little bit, since we have new traditions and everything.”

Santana doesn’t even have time to give Brittany a smile before her girlfriend is cupping her jaw and kissing her fiercely, and Santana can do little more than wrap her arms around Brittany’s waist and kiss her back. Brittany’s mouth is warm and desperate on hers, but her hands are tender and still cold from outside against the sides of her neck, and it’s kind of a little perfect.

“So I take it you like it,” Santana gasps when Brittany finally relents in kissing her, just long enough that Santana can breathe again.

Brittany laughs and kisses Santana repeatedly, a series of quick pecks where she does that thing where she wants to talk and kiss at the same time and just ends up mumbling everything into Santana’s mouth. “Obviously, you giant dork.”

Santana giggles against Brittany and tightens her arms around her girlfriend, nuzzling their noses together and smiling when Brittany’s hands finally slide from her jaw to around her shoulders, tugging her into a tight embrace. “Good,” Santana sighs contently, “because I kind of really liked the new traditions we made last year.”

“That’s cause you got lucky at the end of them,” Brittany snorts against Santana’s hair, giggling and squirming away from Santana when she pinches her hips in retaliation.

“I wasn’t the only one who got lucky that night,” Santana sniffs haughtily, “And if you keep talking like that, you definitely won’t be this year.”

“Please—” Santana can’t see her girlfriend’s face, but she just knows that Brittany is rolling her eyes right now, “—as if you can resist me.”

Santana doesn’t argue that statement, because they both know Brittany’s one-hundred percent correct. “Come on,” she says instead, “we gotta get started on Home Alone so we have time to have supper and make hot chocolate and watch all the other movies and do other stuff like bakin—”

“Mmm,” Brittany interrupts with a hum as she finally pulls away from Santana and starts heading towards the living room, “Am I stuff?”

Santana’s been dating Brittany for a year by now, and it’s not like she’s a stranger to sex with her girlfriend, but she still can’t help the heat she feels rising in her cheeks. Brittany coos teasingly and playfully pokes at Santana’s dimples, even as she smirks and waggles her eyebrows in a suggestive leer. Santana swats at Brittany’s hand and ducks her head, but it does nothing to hide her blush.

Brittany just laughs at her girlfriend’s embarrassed grumbling as Santana throws herself grumpily down on the far end of the couch, shamelessly cuddling up to Santana under the blanket despite Santana’s protests—though, it’s not like Santana is putting up much of a fight considering she immediately sinks into Brittany’s embrace.

The snow continues to fall outside the window, but Santana’s apartment is warm and cozy and the lights from the Christmas tree and the television and the fairy lights on the bookshelf cast the living room in a soft glow. Santana’s pretty positive that she’s going to be doing this for every single Christmas Eve for the rest of her life and, even if she won the lottery or never had to work again or something else that most people dream of when regular life gets too damn depressing, she can’t imagine ever being happier than she is right now.

“Hey,” Brittany says suddenly as Kevin is in the middle of grocery shopping by himself for the first time, and Santana really should know that something’s up by the way her girlfriend tries to bite down on her smirk, “Are we watching Gremlins after this?”

Santana seriously considers suffocating Brittany with the blanket they’re cuddling under, but instead settles on beating her with a pillow, neither of them able to contain their bright laughter as they squirm around on the couch in a one-sided pillow fight.

When 11:11 comes around after supper and hot chocolate and even more movies (including—at least for Santana—the dreaded Gremlins), neither of them are even awake to make a wish like last year, the title screen song for How The Grinch Stole Christmas playing through it’s seventh repeat.

Honestly, it’s completely fine that they miss their new tradition of making a wish at 11:11 on Christmas Eve, because neither of them have anything else they could ever want for anymore, since they already have each other.

#brittana #brittany pierce #santana lopez #glee #brittana fanfiction #glee fanfiction #my writing #story: I'll keep you warm (underneath the christmas lights)#but also #story: be my fire in the cold (and i'll be waiting by the mistletoe)#I'm procrastinating one fic by writing another to absolutely Nobody's surprise lol #also like........ the cheesiest ending imaginable?#obviously #it's me and it's christmas does anyone expect anything else?#also also #I Cannot believe it's been a whole ass year since I wrote be my fire lol #absolutely W I L D

35 notes · View notes

aspoonofsugar · 5 years ago

Note

What do you think of Homura's epiphany in MSMM's rebellion ? (the scene where she turns into a witch, you may find it on YT by searching 'Homura turns into a witch' if you don't see which scene I'm refering)

Hello anon!

I don’t have particular thoughts on that scene since I think it is pretty clear in what it wants to convey.

Homura realizes that the witch she has been hunting is nothing more than herself and as this realization sinks within her, the same happens to the viewer who starts seeing clocks (aka symbols linked to Homura) everywhere and the city (aka the lie Homura had created) dissolving in flames (which are another call back to Homura’s name).

The bus Homura is in conflagrates and the clocks all ring when Homura’s suspicion is confirmed. In short, the world created by Homura mirrors her own feelings and state of mind. Up until she was ignorant the fake city kept working, but the moment she realizes the truth it shows its true colors and Homura’s witch form makes her entrance.

Witches give information about a magical girl’s interiority and Homulily makes no exception. What she symbolizes is explored in the witch’s wiki page.

Generally speaking there are many references to death and grief.

First of all, Homulily keeps repeating her own execution and her servants are her funeral procession.

However, the so called “children of the fake city” are faking their tears and each one of them is called after a negative trait Homura is convinced to have. It is interesting that the last one called love is said to never appear. This has probably to do with Homura feeling that she does not deserve to be loved.

The red spider lily as well is a flower often associated with grief and death and a bunch of lilies appear when Homura realizes that she is a witch. Moreover these flowers can be contrasted with the white ones which appear in the field where Homura sits with Madoka:

What is more, spider lilies emerge from Homulily’s skull:

I am quoting the wiki:

A promise is the only thing that pitifully planted in that head which can no longer crack any nuts, but within the husk of the awakened witch is the distinct form of a magical girl.

The promise which was planted in that head is the vow Homura made to protect Madoka. The fact that it is such a flower the thing which symbolizes said vow is interesting because it shows once again how it is something born from Homura’s grief over her friend’s death and how with time it has become her fixation to the point that it completely took over her head.

The witch being compared to a nutcracker highlights another motif Homulily is associated with aka Nutcracker, the ballet. As the wiki says:

In the story the nutcracker was once a human who was transformed into a nut cracker and later given as a gift a Christmas party where he was damaged, the girl felt sad for him and took care of him, then when the mice attacked he came to life and defended the girl. Similarly Homura started out as a normal girl and was held back by her heart condition, then she befriended Madoka and the others and became a Magical Girl and grew stronger with the intent of protecting Madoka; which would be similar to the role reversal in the ballet. However since Madoka died in most of the timelines until she finally ended up as a part of the universe, Homura could see herself as still being the damaged nutcracker doll who can’t protect the girl who helped her or even fulfill her most basic purpose.

This interpretation is strenghtened also by the fact that some of Homulily’s servants (Luiselotte) are meant to hunt white rats like the one in the Nutcracker’s story. It is clear who Homura considers the rat in her story:

Homulily being associated with a useless nutcracker explains also the teeth associated with this witch. As a matter of fact nutcrackers are used to break nuts, so that they can be chewed easily, but since Homulily is a broken nutcracker teeth decay and fall because they try to chew what they can’t. At the same time dreaming of a broken or fallen tooth means that a relative or a loved one will die soon, so they too are symbols of death and grief. In a sense the teeth are the deaths Homura was not able to avoid because of her being useless (to be clear, I don’t think Homura is useless; this is just how she perceives herself).

Finally Homulily’s hat resembles a record which becomes broken once the witch is beheaded. The hat falls and is later splashed by Homulily’s own foot. After this happens Homulily’s cry where she thanks Madoka and apologizes to her starts in a broken voice and it is as if it is being broadcasted by the grammophone on the witch’s back.

The idea of associating Homulily to a broken record together with the witch repeating her own execution again and again is perfect to convey Homura’s story. As a matter of fact Homura kept repeating the same month in order to save Madoka, but she failed. In a sense it is as if Homulily wants to die as many time as Madoka did.

These are the main motifs and symbols associated with Homura’s witch form, but the scene you asked about has also other segments other than the ones where the witch and her servants appear.

First of all there is the one where Homura and Madoka are sitting together in a field of white flowers:

Homura sees Madoka fall and moves to stop her, but fails. While she does so she leaves her old looks behind and acquires the appearance she has in the original series. In short this segment symbolizes Homura’s development and her becoming who she is because of her attempts to chase after Madoka and to “catch” her before it is too late.

Let’s also underline that Madoka’s position resembles a crucifix and so it might be a reference to Jesus Christ which would fit given the fact that she has become a Goddess to save all magical girls. Either way, it is clear that Madoka’s fall represents her sacrifice and how Homura perceives it as Madoka slipping away and disappearing.

After she fails to catch Madoka Homura is surrounded by a group of old versions of herself who look at her with contempt:

This symbolizes once again Homura’s self hate and how in a sense she has deluded the girl she once was and who started her journey motivated by the wish to protect Madoka. In the end Homura was not able to succeed in her mission and she has grown to resent herself for this.

This is why immediately after a bigger version of herself is shown punching and destroying the whole scene in frustration:

At the same time, despite this Homura being bigger, she is far smaller than the two chairs Madoka and Homura were sitting on. This shows that how much more powerful Homura becomes doesn’t matter because she ends up feeling more and more powerless.

After this, Homulily appears and Homura describes the feeling of being a witch with all the emotions coming back to hunt her and her not being able to remember anything if not fragments of light and regret. She also comments that this is her despair and while she does this image is shown:

This is Homura’s wish to have Madoka in a safe place. Let’s highlight that this picture perfectly shows what Homura will do in the end aka closing Madoka in a golden cage where she is safe, but trapped (stuck in a closet) and where she can’t grow (the Madoka in the picture has childish connotations like her red ribbons and a plushie; moreover she is in a bed as if she is about to sleep).

At this point Homulily is beheaded and what I described above as the witch’s broken cry is broadcasted.

Finally the focus shifts from the witch’s pompus funeral to a small salamander who cries while saying that she is sorry she could not say goodbye to Madoka:

The salamander is an animal believed to be able to survive in the fire. She is associated with Homura probably because her name can be read with the kanji of flame. This little animal closes a scene which started with the labyrinth catching fire because of Homura’s feelings. In a sense, it can be considered the perfect inhabitant of such a place and a good representative of the girl who has such strong emotions.

Of course the salamander can also be seen as foreshadowing of Homura’s rebirth as a demon since the salamander like the phoenix is considered a creature who can be reborn from its ashes (and can be a symbol of Jesus Christ as well). At the same time it used to be associated with witches and Homura is currently one.

However, I think that deep down the salamander represents Homura’s strong sadness and loneliness. All she wishes is to see an important person one last time and she is far away from the ceremony organized to celebrate the witch’s execution. It is as if the scenery behind her is something of no concern for the salamander which is a stranger to her own funeral.

Thank you for the ask! I hope I was of help!

#pmmm #homura akemi #madoka meta #puella magi madoka magica #pmmm meta #puella magi madoka magica meta #asksfullofsugar #anonymous

80 notes · View notes

altered-karma · 5 years ago

Text

Altered-Karma’s Year in Review

It’s late because work and traveling and stuff has kinda wiped me out, but at long last, here’s a list of all the stuff I published last year! Starts in May with the TDDK BB:

plants & stars: TDDK for the TDDK BB 2019: Magician Deku shows up on Shouto’s father’s World Famous Talent Show, and proceeds to rock the lonely judge’s world. T, 29.4k, BnHA

brittle bones and brittle hearts: Inspired by some art here on tumblr: Danny meets a strange teenager in the woods, and hears something that he's needed to hear. G, 2.1k, BnHAxDP crossover

bees love their flowers (and their flower boys): Written on an adrenaline high to claim my rightful place as the first author in the tag for a crackship rarepair my server/guild spawned: Bee Movie AU Natshig :3 G, 393 words, BnHA

Country Boy Take Me Home: TDDK Oneshot just because: Shouto learns something interesting about Izuku. And about a hobby Izuku picked up (it’s the guitar). T, 1.5k, BnHA

corruptio optimi pessima (the fall of goodness is the worst fall): For want of a Nail fix it fic for Ardyn and Luna, who both deserved better, but lbr, everyone in FFXV deserved better. T, 13.3k, FFXV

what if all the things I'd done (were attempts at earning love): TenChako feels smacked me outta nowhere, right around when I first started playing SV, so cottagecore happened!: Ochako dreams of one day owning a cottage out in the woods. Tenya dreams of Ochako being happy. Thankfully, Tenya's rich enough to make things work. Now if only he could keep his heart under wraps and his mouth shut, life would be great. Instead, he has an unrequited love a mile wide to contend with as he and Ochako move in together. G, 17.5k, BnHA

Light your fire: Triple TDDK BDay gift for three of my friends, this time Lighthousecore: Shouto lives in a lighthouse, and one day, on one of his frequent ventures, he sings a song to a seal, and gets the companion of a lifetime. T, 8.5k, BnHA

Hold your onions (it's time for honey): Second Crackfic, TDDK but with Shrek and Bee Movie flavors because I’m a bastard. T, 760 words, BnHA

an eternity of yeses: Birthday fic for my friend Felix, TodoShinDeku which needs more love: Hitoshi has withdrawn from human society and lives separate from everyone else. Two paranormal investigators wander into his house uninvited, and offer him an invitation of their own. M, nothing explicit but implied, 4.8k, BnHA

Paw Prints at Midnight: Nother BDay fic! TDDK, and I ended up with an accidental Halloween them between this one and the fics on either side of it:Park Rangers Shouto and Izuku live out in the middle of the forest managing their assigned park. Shouto also happens to adore conspiracy theories, and tries to convince Izuku that the occasional messes that follow the full moon are the result of Bigfoot. Izuku just hopes Shouto doesn't discover the truth: that once a month, Izuku is wolfier than usual, and haunts the forest at night. T, 2.4k, BnHA

The best lack conviction (while the worst are full of passionate intensity): Currently ongoing (I’m editing the next chapters now I promise!) Villain!AU, which I had a lot of fun writing even though I joined late as a pinch hitter: Vigilante Pluto gets a tip that a villain has infiltrated UA's prestigious course, and in spite of all the odds against him and everyone telling him otherwise, Midoriya Izuku joins the course to try and prevent an impossible disaster: the death of All Might. T, 29k as of this post, BnHA

Good Omens? Not with these idiots at the helm...: HQ AU BB, Kagehina Centric Good Omens AU currently on Hiatus: Heaven and Hell have decided: it's time for the end of the world. It's been a good 6000 years, but it's time for something fresh and new. They're desperate enough for it to happen, that they pick the worst possible (or best possible, depending on whether or not one is interested in humanity surviving the literal end of the world) agents to follow through. Unfortunately, the best laid ineffable plans of Heaven and Hell often go awry in the hands of two (or eleven or twenty or a hundred, but mostly two) volleyball idiots. T, 4.5k as of this post, HQ

your name is...?: Secret Santa for my server/guild, the first of three fics posted in a haze of Holiday cheer! A BSD Soukoku Your Name AU (and I promise I hadn’t realized this combo of it had been done, so now I’m tempted to write the reverse!): When Osamu wakes up one morning in a stranger's body in Tokyo, he's having the time of his life. Too bad things are never quite that simple. T, 10.5k, BSD

Detours: Yet Another BDay fic, for Egg this time. A Given piece, make sure to check the tags if you give it a look: Mafuyu is late to a practice session, so of course the others send Ritsuka to find him. He does, but it takes a little conversation and a lot of tears for them to get anywhere. Ritsuka doesn't have any regrets, though. T, 1.3k, Given

under a sea of lanterns and firework jellies (I see your dragonfly heart take flight, ignite): A thing I put together when my friends in the 365 Days of TDDK informed us of a vacancy, a TDDK Spirited Away/Nutcracker AU: Izuku is swept into a magical evening when a dragon wishes for a companion. T, 3.2k, BnHA

Which puts my grand total for the year at...... 146510 words! Holy cow, that’s, way more than I thought. And this year is going to be worse *stares at wip pile*

Anyways, thanks for all of the responses! If you see this,. and liked any of the fics on it give it a reblog!

#karma writes #fics #my fics #bnha #dp #tddk #iichako #ffxv #hq #bsd #soukoku

10 notes · View notes

dukereviewsmovies · 5 years ago

Text

Duke Reviews: Rudolph, The Red Nosed Reindeer

Hi Everyone, I'm Andrew Leduc And Welcome To Duke Reviews Where We Are Continuing Duke's Yultide Reviews...

Well, With Christmas Movies Behind Us For The Year, It's Time To Move Into Christmas Specials And What Better Way To Start Then To Look At The Original Christmas Special, Rudolph The Red-Nosed Reindeer...

Now, Unlike Some Of The Movies I Went Over In November, I Feel That I Really Don't Have To Go Over The Plot Of This Special As Everyone Knows It By Now And Anyone Who Doesn't Probably Lives Under A Rock...

So, Without Further Ado, This Is Rudolph The Red Nosed Reindeer...

The Special Starts With Newspaper Pages And Snowflakes Before We're Introduced To Our Narrator, Sam The Snowman, Played By Burl Ives...

Who Talks With Us About Christmas Town...

No, It's Not That Christmas Town...

But The Christmas Town That Sam Is Talking About Is At The North Pole Where The #1 Citizens Are The Clauses Who Live On The First Castle On The Left, Matter Of Fact The Only Castle On The Left..,

Cutting To Inside The Castle We See Mrs Claus Telling Santa To Eat Up As The Kids Expect A Fat Santa For Christmas Eve....

Some People Might See This As Skinny Shaming But Me I See This As Sending A Good Message Saying That Says After The Holidays, Santa Loses Weight In An Effort To Not Get Diabetes...

Telling Us About How Much He Loves Christmas, Sam Tells Us About The Year Of The Big Snowstorm And How They Couldn't Have Done It Without Rudolph, Which Leads Sam To Tell Us Our Story But Not Before Giving Us An Intro And A Title Card...

Starting A Few Years Before The Big Snowstorm, In Spring No Less, We See The Donners Give Birth To A Little Buck Named Rudolph Who Is Born With A Red Glowing Nose...

However, In The Movie Rudolph And Frosty's Christmas In July, It Was Revealed That Rudolph Wasn't Born With The Nose But Was Given It By The Spirit Of The North Pole Known As Lady Boreal In An Effort To Protect Santa From The Evil Wizard Winterbolt Who Had Just Woken Up When Lady Boreal's Powers Started To Wane And Weaken After Being In Her Human Form For Too Long...

But Getting Back To Our Story, Santa Arrives To Meet Rudolph Only To Discover His Powers For Himself...

youtube

Coming Up With An Idea To Hide Rudolph's Nose, Donner Teaches Rudolph How To Be A Reindeer, While Teaching His Son To Beware Of The Abominable Snowmonster Of The North Who's Mean, Nasty And Doesn't Like Christmas..

But Aside From The Abominable, We Cut To Santa's Workshop Where We Meet Hermey, Who's An Elf Who Wants To Be A Dentist Which Catches The Ire Of The Foreman...

youtube

(Start At 1:42, End At 1:56)

Growing Up Over The Years, Rudolph Has Gotten Tired Of Hiding His Nose As The Mud His Parents Place On It Isn't Very Comfortable, But Donner Believes That Self Respect Is More Important Than Comfort...

I Would Play The Other Part Of The Song But I Couldn't Find It On YouTube, Sorry...

With Christmas Coming And Going As Always, Soon It Is April Which Is When All The Fawns Come Out To Be Inspected By Santa And When The Elf Choir Practices In Front Of Santa...

Whoa!, Whoa!, Whoa!, What Happened To The Elf Foreman?

His Voice Just Went From Gruff To Squeaky In 10 Seconds, Why?, Was The Actor Unavailable? Did They Have Another Actor Originally Do The Voice? Somebody Give Me Answers!

youtube

(Start At 0:14, End At 1:49)

With Santa Leaving, The Foreman (Whose Voice Is Gruff Again) Tells Them That The Performance Was Terrible As The Tenor Section Was Weak...

I Don't Know, Foreman Defiantly Sounded Good To Me...

But One Of The Elves Tell The Foreman That Hermey Didn't Show Up...

Working On Dolls Teeth, The Foreman Marches In To Tell Hermey That Despite Trying To Find A Way To Fit In He'll Never Fit In And To Come To Elf Practice Before Slamming The Door Shut...

Believing The Foreman To Be Right, Hermey Runs Away...

Back At The Reindeer Fields, Rudolph Makes A Friend Named Fireball, Who Introduces Rudolph To A Doe Named Clarice...

Walking Over To Her As The Coach Comet, Won't Get To Rudolph And Fireball For A While, Rudolph Talks With Clarice...

(Imitating Hannibal Lecter) Hello, Clarice...

Asking Her To Walk Home With Him, Clarice Tells Rudolph Yes, As She Tells Him That She Thinks That He's Cute...

Leaping Into The Sky 2 Times, Rudolph Butts Heads With Fireball Which Causes Rudolph's Nose To Fall Off...

With His Secret Revealed, The Reindeer Not Only Make Fun Of Rudolph But Santa Gets Mad At Donner As Comet Tells Everyone To Not Let Rudolph Join In Any Reindeer Games...

Followed By Clarice As Rudolph Promised To Take Her Home, She Doesn't Care What Everyone Else Thinks And Says That His Nose Is Better Than That False One He Was Wearing...

youtube

(Start At 0:19, End At 2:14)

But When Clarice's Father, ? Enters To Tell Rudolph To Stay Away From Her, Rudolph Finds Himself All Alone Again, That Is Until He Runs Into Hermey Who Tells Rudolph That He Doesn't Need Anyone Because He's Independent Which Leads Rudolph To Declare The Same...

Okay, I Realize Rudolph Is Not A Girl But Since He's Voiced By One I'm Playing This...

youtube

Originally This Wasn't The Song For This Scene, Originally It Was This...

youtube

Walking For A While, Rudolph And Hermey Hear The Roar Of The Abominable Snowmonster Which Causes Hermey To Have Rudolph Douse His Nose For Now...

Continually Walking Till Morning,They End Up Meeting Yukon Cornelius, Who Is Searching These Areas For Silver And Gold Which Leads Us To Our Next Song...

youtube

(Start At 0:08)

With The Abominable Catching Up With Our 3 Friends, Yukon Creates An Iceberg So They Can Get Away From The Abominable But With No Land In Sight Our Friends Have No Idea Where They're Headed...

Eventually Hitting Land, Yukon, Hermey And Rudolph Find Themselves On An Island With Flying Lions And Talking Jack In The Boxes...

Correction Charlie In The Boxes...

youtube

(Start At 0:40)

With Rudolph Asking If They Can Stay On The Island With Them, Charlie Takes Them To King Moonracer (Who Is The Flying Lion In Question) Who Unfortunately Tells Them No But Asks Them That Once They Return To Christmas Town To Tell Santa About Their Island Which Rudolph Promises He Will...

For This, King Moonracer Allows Them To Spend The Night...

Oh, How Generous...

With His Friends Deciding To Return To Christmas Town, Rudolph Decides To Strike Out On His Own To Save His Friends From The Abominable Snowmonster...

But As The Years Pass, Rudolph Grows Older And Realizes That You Can't Run Away From Your Troubles Which Leads Him To Decide To Head Home...

But In Returning Home, He Discovers An Empty Cave Which Leads Santa To Point Out That Them And Clarice Have Been Gone For Months Out Looking For Him...

But While Going Out To Find His Parents The Storm Of The Century Hits...

But Again, In Rudolph And Frosty's Christmas In July, It Was Revealed That The Storm Was Created By Winterbolt In An Attempt To Get Rid Of Santa Forever As There Could Only Be One King Of The North....

Searching For His Parents, Rudolph Realized That They Could Only Be One Place, The Cave Of The Abominable Snowmonster...

Oops, Wrong Cave And Wrong Abominable Snowman...

Anyway, Entering The Cave, Rudolph Attacks The Snowmonster Only To Get Whapped By A Piece Of The Cave...

Well, Not Exactly As Hermey And Yukon Cornelius Arrive To Rescue Their Friend And His Family With Hermey Distracting The Abominable While Yukon Drops A Big Rock On Him...

Getting Rudolph And His Family Out, They Find Themselves Confronted By The Bumble Again Only To Discover That Hermey Took Out All Of His Teeth...

Pushing The Bumble Back With His Dogs, Yukon Goes Over The Edge Of A Cliff Along With His Dogs And The Bumble...

And This Is Supposed To Be A Kids Special!

With Everyone Going Back To Christmas Town, Santa Apologizes To Rudolph And Tells Him That He'll Find Homes For All Of The Misfit Toys On The Island Of Misfit Toys While The Foreman Apologizes To Hermey Telling Him That He Can Open Up A Office Next Week After Christmas...

Hearing A Knock On The Door, We Discover That Yukon Survived...

And So Did The Bumble Who Only Did What He Did Because He Wanted A Job...

Wow, I Didn't Know Unemployment Was A Problem At The North Pole...

Asking How They Survived, Yukon Kind Of Gives A Dumb Yet Funny Answer...

While Everyone Gets Ready For Christmas, Santa Gets News From His Eye In The Sky Weather Reporter, Who Tells Him That The Storm Won't Let Up And Christmas Will Have To Be Cancelled, But As Rudolph's Light Shines Santa Decides That Rudolph Is Their Answer...

With Rudolph On-Board For Helping Santa, We Get Our Next Song...

youtube

(Start At 0:11)

With Santa Fattened Up And The Sleigh Filled They Take Off With An Up Up And Away...

Okay, Is Santa Superman?

Meanwhile On The Island Of Misfit Toys, Charlie, The Spotted Elephant And The Doll Have All But Given Up This Year But When They See Rudolph's Nose, Everyone Gathers Up So They Can Board The Sleigh...

youtube

(End At 1:46)

Fun Fact: When I Was A Kid, I Had A Hard Time With VHS Remotes And Accidentally Taped Over A Little Bit Of The Ending With The End Credits Of A Care Bears Nutcracker And My Mom Still Bugs Me About It To This Day...

But That's Rudolph The Red-Nosed Reindeer And It's A Good Special...

Sure, It Has A Few Things That Show What Time It Came From But It's Still A Good Christmas Special, I Love The Characters, I Love The Story, The Sets Are Well Made And I Just Say See It...

Till Next Time, This Is Duke, Signing Off...

#rudolph the red nosed reindeer #rankin bass #merry christmas #christmas #christmas special #tv review #television

3 notes · View notes

foreverwayward · 6 years ago

Text

“Wayward Hearts” Season 3 Chapter 7: A Very Supernatural Christmas

Summary: After the Devil’s Gate had been opened that fateful night in the graveyard, the hunters are forced to face a new war. Countless demons now run rampant, hungry for blood and power. It’ll take everything the three have to survive when darkness once again knocks on their door. But, with only a year before Dean’s deal comes due, Sam and Riley will stop at nothing to save him; to save their family.

Masterlist

Word Count: 10,866 (yup. this one got long)

Content Warning: language and violence

DISCLAIMER: any words or phrases in bold in the story are not my own and are credited to the writers of Supernatural.

**GIFS ARE NOT MY OWN**

The weather in Ypsilanti, Michigan would never have anyone believe it was late December. There was no chill in the air, no snow on the ground.

A little girl with blonde hair stood motionless and sad at the window as Riley and Dean spoke with her mother on the front porch. The woman had almost identical hair to her daughter and her face was worn and tired. Her husband had disappeared without a trace only days before Christmas. The family had their home fully decorated for the season. Poinsettias, a large nutcracker, wreaths, and lights lined the porch.

Through the open door, the hunters could see a large tree in the foyer of the home that twinkled as though everything was as it should be.

Posing as FBI agents, Riley and Dean questioned the mother to find out all they could about the missing man.

“So, what exactly happened, Mrs. Walsh?” Riley asked.

“Um, my daughter and I were in our beds. Mike was downstairs decorating the tree. I heard a thump on the roof and then I--I heard Mike scream.” The worried wife stared down at the ground in disbelief as tears welled in her eyes. “And now I’m talking to the FBI.”

Taking notes of the interview, Dean still took part in the questioning. “And you didn't see any of it?”

“No, he was--he was just gone. The doors were locked and my parents are the only ones with a key to the house, but they live in Florida.”

Riley could feel the woman’s agonizing concern and lost herself in her sad eyes as her empathic abilities sucked her in.

Dean scanned around the porch once more. “And no sign of forced entry?”

“That’s right.”

With his hands in his slacks, Sam walked out of the house and half-smiled at the victim’s wife. “Thanks for letting me have a look around, Mrs. Walsh. I think we, uh--got just about everything we need. We’re all set.”

“We’ll be in touch,” Dean added. After noticing Riley, he cleared his throat to snap her out of her trance-like state.

Immediately, it was as if she was grounded back into her body and Riley tried to compose herself. The three turned to walk down the steps with a quick nod to Mrs. Walsh.

“Agents…” the woman called out and the hunters stopped to turn back toward her. “The police said my husband might have been kidnapped. But, if that’s true, why haven’t the kidnappers called? Or--or demanded a ransom? It’s three days ‘til Christmas. What am I supposed to tell our daughter?”

Still reeling from her connection to Mrs. Walsh, Riley bit her lip trying to control her emotions. “We’re so sorry.” Moving on with the Winchesters, they all resumed their walk to the car as the woman turned to go back inside. Riley sighed heavily before saying, “Sam, please tell me you found something.”

“Stocking, mistletoe...this...” Sam replied as he pulled something out of his pocket to give to Dean.

It was a human tooth. “A tooth? Where was this?” Dean examined it more closely as Riley released her hair from its bun trying not to let it all get the best of her.

“In the chimney.”

“Chimney? No way a man fits up a chimney. It’s too narrow.”

Riley took a deep breath as a horrible thought crossed her mind and she shared it with the boys. “Not in one piece at least.”

“Alright, so, if dad went up the chimney--”

“We need to find out what dragged him up there,” Sam said finishing his brother’s sentence.

------

In their motel room, Sam sat at his computer researching while Riley pinned their printed pictures, lore, local history and more up on the walls. The wallpaper was a dark beige with ivy plants covering it, so she was happy to cover some of it up.

Dean walked into the room carrying a brown paper bag. “So, was I right? Is it the serial-killing chimney sweep?”

“Oh, yeah,” Riley replied sarcastically. “We’re looking for Dick Van Dyke.”

As he put down the bag, Dean looked back at her in confusion. “Who?”

Sam smiled at his question and tried to help him. “...Mary Poppins?”

“Who’s that?”

Riley and Sam shared a look of humor before the Winchester chuckled. “Oh come on--never mind,” he said giving up on the pointless conversation with a wave of his hand.

“Sam, remind me to make this guy watch a Disney movie at some point,” Riley teased as she pinned up pictures of what looked like different types of demons.

Ignoring their encounter, Dean went back on topic as he went to greet Riley with a quick kiss. “Well, it turns out that Walsh is the second guy in town grabbed out of his house this month.”

“Another guy got pulled up his chimney?”

“Don’t know. Witnesses said they heard a thump on the roof.” Dean took off his jacket and shrugged before Sam and Riley gestured the same in response. “So, what the hell do you think we're dealing with?”

“Actually, Rye and I have an idea.”

“Yeah?”

Finally finishing her task, Riley joined Sam at the table and smirked at Dean. “You’re gonna think it’s crazy.”

“What could you possibly say that sounds crazy to me?”

Sam and Riley both chuckled before the Winchester smiled up at his brother. “Um...evil Santa.”

Dean paused and then nodded in agreeance. “Yeah, that’s crazy.”

“Yeah…I mean, I’m just saying that there’s some version of the anti-Claus in every culture.” Sam pointed to some of their findings on the table and Dean took them to get a closer look. “You got Belsnickel, Krampus, Black Peter. Whatever you want to call it, there’s all sorts of lore.”

“Saying what?”

“Well,” Riley started as she looked down at her notes. “Some of it says that back in the day, Santa had a brother--that he went dark-side though and he also shows up around Christmas time. But, this guy didn’t bring you goodies, he punished you for being on the naughty list basically.”

“By hauling their ass up chimneys?”

“That’s just some of it, but yeah.”

“So, this is your theory, huh? Santa’s shady brother? I mean, Santa doesn’t have a brother. There is no Santa.”

Sam scoffed before replying, “yeah, I know. You’re the one who told me that in the first place, remember?” He looked at Dean who glanced down almost looking like he felt guilty. “Yeah, you know what, we could be wrong. I mean,” Sam sighed as he shut his laptop. “We gotta be wrong.”

“Maybe, maybe not.” When his partners looked at him quizzically, Dean grabbed some papers with his own findings. “I did a little digging. Turns out both victims visited the same place before they got snatched.”

“Where?”

------

A beat-up sign reading, ‘Welcome to Santa’s Village’ hung over the entryway of a large lot. Inside, Christmas music played as employees wandered around in cheesy costumes of elves, reindeer, and snowmen. Cheap lights hung from a red building labeled, ‘Elves Station’ and evergreen trees were being sold toward the back.

Children were running around playing as if the cheap lot was a magical Winter Wonderland.

The three walked in and they all glanced in different directions before Dean said, “You know, all this Christmas talk? I think we should have one.”

“Have one what?” Sam asked.

“A Christmas.”

With a surprised look, Riley replied, “really? I mean, we haven’t done one before.”

“No, thanks,” the younger brother scoffed through a chuckle.

“No, we’ll get a tree, a little Boston market, just like when we were little, Sammy. But, this time…” Dean said with a smile before putting an arm around Riley, “it’ll be the three of us.”

“Dean, those weren’t exactly Hallmark memories for me, you know.”

“What are you talking about? We had some great Christmases.”

Sam’s face fell as he grew slightly more serious. “Whose childhood are you talking about?”

All of a sudden, Riley felt Sam’s energy change. There was a sadness in him that felt old and like it had always been ingrained in him. She tried to focus on him, hoping she could understand.

Stopping mid-walk, Dean turned to his little brother. “Oh, come on, Sam.”

“No! Just…no.”

Dean looked surprised and somewhat shocked as he turned with Riley to keep going. “Alright, ya fuckin’ Grinch.”

As they both walked away, Sam stood still. His attention went to a small, almost cartoon-like, reindeer statue and he looked uncomfortable.

Riley glanced over her shoulder to watch her brother with curiosity.

------

Broken Bow, Nebraska

Christmas Eve, 1991

On a thick television set, in a worn motel room, reindeers pulled Santa’s sleigh across the sky. It was the movie ‘A Year Without Santa Clause’.

The walls were cracked, left uncared for for years with filthy carpet to match. It smelt of mothballs and the takeout the boys had gotten since John left.

An eight-year-old Sam sat on the floor in front of the set, wrapping a gift in newspaper. Dean, no more than twelve-years-old, stood looking out the front window watching the snow fall.

The older brother noticed Sam and turned to ask, “what is that?”

“A present for Dad.”

Dean scoffed. “Yeah, right. Where’d you get the money? Steal it?”

“No. Uncle Bobby gave it to me to give to him--said it was real special.” As Sam continued to wrap his gift, Dean sat next to him on the couch and began to read a magazine. The little Winchester looked up with a face of worry. “Dad’s gonna be here, right? It’s Christmas.”

“He knows and he’ll be here. Promise.”

“Where is he anyway?” As young children do, Sam had so many questions. And with John gone, the only one to answer them was his big brother, Dean.

Dean hated when Sam got curious about their lives. Not because he found it annoying as much as he was running out of lies to tell him. “On business.”

“What kind of business?”

“You know that,” Dean replied with a worried look as he fumbled through the car magazine in his hands. “He sells stuff.”

“What kind of stuff?”

“Stuff.”

“Nobody ever tells me anything,” Sam said sadly.

Rolling his eyes, Dean stood with a huff and walked back towards his bed. “Then quit asking.”

The bed was covered in garbage and food-wrappers and Dean shoved it off to make room for himself. He sat down and continued to browse the publication.

Sam kneeled on the couch to lean on the back of it and looked at his brother. “Is Dad a spy?”

“Mm-hmm,” Dean snarked. “He’s James Bond.”

“Why do we move around so much?”

It was around that time that Dean was beginning to get frustrated with the barrage of questions. “’Cause everywhere we go, they get sick of your face.”

“I’m old enough, Dean. You can tell me the truth.”

Dean looked up to meet Sam’s gaze. ”You don’t wanna know the truth. Believe me.”

“Is that why we never talk about…Mom?” Sam asked meekly.

Dean immediately tossed the magazine away in anger and stood up before yelling. “Shut up! Don’t you ever talk about Mom, ever!” Grabbing his jacket, he went for the door.

Little Sam was scared to be alone and cried out, “wait, where are you going?”

“Out.” Slamming the door behind him, Dean disappeared into the snowy night.

Sam sat in silence with a look of brokenness in his eyes, Alone and confused, the young Winchester peered back at the holiday special on TV. He wondered if there would ever be a year that he could have a real Christmas like the other kids; one where he felt the magic of the holidays and not the loneliness of a dusty motel room.

-----

The memory had taken Sam back to a time he had long wished to forget. His childhood was painful, and it made him resentful of the holidays. Maybe, had John been around, things would have been different. Or maybe the drinking would have only made it worse. In the end, Sam realized it didn’t matter which way things had gone; he and Dean would always end up right where they were.

Dean had already looked around with Riley and they had made it back to where they had left Sam. “You’d think with the ten fuckin’ bucks it costs to get into this place, Santa could scrounge up a little snow.”

“Wait,” Riley interjected. “We spent thirty bucks to get into the saddest North Pole ever? What a ripoff.”

Sam pulled himself from his memories without hearing either of them. “What?”

Those feelings Riley was picking up on earlier were still there if not stronger. Her brother was hurting and she knew it, but there was no way he’d tell Dean. So, Riley reached out for Sam to whisper into his thoughts. “What’s going on, Sam? You okay?”

As he heard her voice in his mind, his eyes went for hers. “Yeah...I’m good.” His tone was sad and flat, only she decided not to push with Dean around.

“So, what are we looking for, again?” Dean asked, not knowing of their private conversation.

“Um…” Sam looked around the lot and tried to forget it all. “Lore says that the anti-Claus will walk with a limp and smell like sweets.”

“Great. So, we’re looking for a pimp Santa. Why the sweets?”

Riley gave Dean a knowing look. “Well, if you smell like candy, the kids will come flocking, ya know?”

“That’s creepy.” Dean’s comment brought out a chuckle from his partners. “How does this thing know who’s been naughty and who’s been nice?”

“No clue.”

The family had continued on only to see a man wearing a Santa costume sitting outside a small barn. It was poorly decorated to appear as if it belonged in the North Pole with nearly no children in line to meet Santa.

Sitting on a red chair, was ‘Santa’. His voice was gruff and he didn’t even wear the beard properly as it hung beneath his chin.

There was nothing about him that didn’t make the hunters feel uncomfortable and their faces showed it. Sam, Riley, and Dean watched as a little boy sat on Santa’s lap.

“You been a good boy this year? ‘Cause Santa’s got a special gift for you,” the man cackled creepily, causing the boy’s mom to grab his arm and pull him away from the disgusting Santa.

Riley scrunched her face feeling the discomfort in the air. “Ugh. Please don’t tell me that Pervy Santa isn’t our guy.”

An adorable young woman with brunette hair and dressed as an elf went to the hunters with a smile on her face. “Welcome to Santa’s court. Can I escort your child to Santa?”

“Uh…” Sam uttered awkwardly.

“No. No. Uh--but actually my brother here…” Dean smiled as he put his hand on Dean’s shoulder. “...it's been a lifelong dream of his.”

Riley could suddenly hear the girl’s thoughts and they made her chortle through her nose.

“What is wrong with this freak?” Finally speaking out loud, the elf turned to Sam with an uneasy look. “Uh--sorry. No kids over...uh--twelve.”

“No, he’s just kidding,” Sam tried to fix what his brother had done only to make it worse. “We only came here to watch.”

The elf looked at Dean who just shook his head and she hurried away. “Ew.”

Sam groaned to himself before he yelled out to her as she walked away. “I--I didn’t mean that we came here to wa--we--” He glared at Dean who was laughing. “Thanks a lot, Dean. Thanks for that.”

“Really, Sam…” Riley teased. “They’re children.”

Dean high-fived her at her joke and Sam just rolled his eyes.

When she looked back up at the Santa, he was leaving his chair, walking with a bad limp. “Uh--you guys seeing this?”

The man slowly passed the hunters, their eyes never leaving him.

“A lot of people walk with limps, right?” Sam shrugged.

“Tell me you didn’t smell that. That was candy, man.”

Wafting the smell away from her face, Riley shook her head with a look of disgust. “Ugh. More like cherry schnapps...or Ripple.”

Dean chuckled as he replied, “well, you might be right. But we willing to take that chance?”

------

That night, inside the Impala, Riley and the Winchesters sat in front of a trailer near the woods. There was a small string of colored Christmas lights lining the roof with a fir tree directly next to the old car parked out front.

Leaning on the driver’s door, Dean yawned through his words. “What time is it?”

“Same as the last time you asked. Here…” Sam reached from the backseat to hand Dean a thermos. “Caffeinate.”

Dean took the canister from him and tried to pour coffee into his cup. The thermos was completely empty and the older brother groaned. “Wonderful.”

As she too yawned, Riley had been staring at the man’s house. Without looking away she asked, “kinda reminds you of the van you were told to stay away from as a kid, huh?”

Both of the Winchesters laughed before silence fell over the car.

Dean smiled and scoffed as he shifted to face Sam. “Hey, Sam. Why are you the boy that hates Christmas?”

“Dean…” Sam groaned under his breath.

“I mean, I admit it. You know, we had a few bumpy holidays when we were kids…”

“Bumpy?”

“That was then. We’ll do it right this year.”

“Look, Dean. If you want to have Christmas, knock yourself out. Just don’t involve me.”

Dean looked at his brother in disbelief before he glanced over to Riley. “Fine. Guess it’ll just me and Rye making the cranberry molds.”

Unsure of why Dean had been so adamant about having Christmas, Riley could only half smile at his offer.

As they returned to watching the house, the filthy Santa from earlier stood in his window. Still in his red cap, but in a dirty and stained white tank top, he looked outside before closing his curtains.

“What’s up with Saint Nicotine?” Dean asked.

The sound of a woman shouting came from inside the trailer and the three jumped out of the car. Running toward the house, they drew their guns and readied themselves at the door.

Sam let out a breathy chuckle making Dean turn to him. “What?”

“Nothing,” the young Winchester answered. “It’s just that, uh--well, you know, Mr. Gung Ho Christmas might have to blow away Santa.”

Dean gave his brother an annoyed look while Riley tried to hide the smirk crawling up her face.

Quickly opening the door, they all went inside but stopped in their tracks as they looked around. Santa was sitting on the couch, holding a giant bong and a bottle of whiskey. He stood and the hunters quickly hid their guns.

“What the fuck are you doing here?” the Santa slurred in his drunken stupor.

Their eyes all went to the old TV set that was playing a cheap Christmas porno.

“Why don’t you mistle my toe? Roast my chestnut--egg my nog…”

Trying to control their urge to laugh, Sam just shrugged at the man without an answer to his question.

Riley suddenly had an idea and began to sing. “Silent night, holy night…” She nudged the boys who began to sing terribly along. Neither knew the words and were completely tone deaf.

“All is well…all is dry. Round and round…” Sam and Dean tried to sing along and stumbled as they failed to match Riley’s lyrics. “...the table.”

Though they sounded like a train wreck, Santa sat down to watch them and grinned with amusement.

Riley’s hands both reached for the brothers’ jackets as she tugged them towards the door with a smile on her face. She kept singing as Sam and Dean stumbled out with her.

------

After another man had been taken from his home, the hunters had gone to the new victim’s house. It too was fully decorated and full of the Christmas spirit aside from the crying wife. Sam, Dean, and Riley were dressed in their suits as they interviewed the woman.

“So, that’s how your son described the attack?” Dean questioned. “Santa took daddy up the chimney?”

The woman had curly dirty-blonde hair with a large bruise over her right eye. “That’s what he says, yes.”

“And where were you?”

“I was asleep and all of a sudden…” she sniffled and her eyes were cast down as they darted back and forth at the memory. “I was being dragged out of bed, screaming.”

Trying not to get sucked into the emotions of yet another grieving wife, Riley focused on her breathing as she had trouble getting her question out. “Mrs.--Mrs. Caldwell, did, uh--did you happen to see your attacker?”

She shook her head and folded her arms. “It was dark and he hit me. He knocked me out.”

Riley swallowed hard, still fighting her empathic abilities. “I’m so sorry.”

“Mrs. Caldwell,” Sam started as he looked above her. “Where--where did you get that wreath above the fireplace?”

Dean and Riley turned to where he had pointed as did Mrs. Caldwell who stood dumbfounded.

“Excuse me?”

The others stared at Sam waiting for an answer but the Winchester just smiled and shrugged, feeling embarrassed. “Just curious, you know.”

After the interview had finished, the three walked through the overly decorated front yard of the home. There were twig shaped reindeer, lit up trees, and angels that glowed.

“Wreaths, huh?” Dean’s eyebrow hooked as he glanced to Sam. “Sure you didn’t want to ask her about her shoes? I saw some nice handbags in the foyer.”

Sam scoffed. “We’ve seen that wreath before, Dean.”

They had reached Baby when Riley stopped and turned to Sam. “You’re right.”

“He is?” Dean asked in surprise.

“Yeah. We saw the exact one at the Walshes’.”

Dean nodded, faking his knowledge of their findings. “Oh, yeah. Yeah, of course. I was just testing you guys.”

------

Riley was at the small kitchenette sink of their motel room making a pot of coffee while Dean went over more lore at the coffee table. Sam walked around the room with his phone to his ear as he wrapped up his call with Bobby.

“Yeah, alright. Well, keep looking, would you? Thanks, Bobby.” Sam hung up with a sigh and went back to the table to sit in front of his laptop. “Well…we’re not dealing with the anti-Claus.”

“Really?” Riley asked as she brought Sam a fresh cup of coffee.

“Thanks,” he said with a smile. “But, uh--yeah. Bobby says we’re fucking morons.” Sam chuckled and the others smirked knowing that was typical Bobby. “He also said that it was probably meadowsweet in those wreaths.”

“Wow. Amazing,” Dean answered flatly and sarcastically. “What the fuck is meadowsweet?”

“It’s pretty rare and it’s probably the most powerful plant in pagan lore.”

Dean tilted his head up to kiss Riley as she gave him his mug. “So, pagan lore?”

“Yeah. See, they used meadowsweet for human sacrifice. It was kind of like a...chum for their gods. Gods were drawn to it and they’d stop by and snack on whatever was the nearest human.”

As Riley sat next to Dean, she blew to cool her hot beverage. “But with Christmas wreaths? Why?”

“It's not as crazy as it sounds. I mean, pretty much every Christmas tradition is pagan.”

“Christmas is Jesus’s birthday,” Dean rebutted.

With her boots kicked off, Riley sat crisscrossed as she sipped her coffee. She made a sound of disagreement through her drink. “Actually, Jesus was probably born during the fall. The winter solstice festival was co-opted by the Catholics and rebranded as ‘Christmas’. And it’s kind of the whole shebang--the Yule log, the tree, even the fat man’s red suit--all leftovers from pagan worship.”

Sam nodded with an impressed look and Dean appeared slightly taken back. “Sometimes I forget how fuckin’ smart you are. But, come on, what are you gonna tell me next? Easter bunny’s Jewish?” Riley smiled as Dean scooted closer to put his hand on her thigh. “So, Sam, you think we’re gonna dealing with a pagan god?”

“Yeah,” Sam replied. “Probably Hold Nickar, god of the winter solstice.”

“And all these Martha Stewart wannabes, buying these fancy wreaths…”

“Yeah, it’s pretty much like putting a neon sign on your front door saying ‘come kill us’.”

Still sipping at her drink, Riley’s brow hooked. “Damn. Not even your Christmas décor is safe.”

The younger brother scrolled through the webpage and scoffed a laugh under his breath. “Huh. When you sacrifice to Hold Nickar, guess what he gives you in return?”

“Lap dances, hopefully,” Dean joked as Riley smiled with a soft chuckle.

“Mild weather.”

Dean looked out the window saying, “like no snow in the middle of December in the middle of Michigan.”

“For instance.”

“Okay, so the question is how to the hell do we kill it?”

“Don’t know. Bobby’s working on that right now. We got to figure out where they’re selling those wreaths.”

Sitting up to look at Sam, Riley asked, “wait, do we think someone’s selling these on purpose? Basically feeding this thing?”

With a heavy exhale Sam shrugged. “Let’s find out.”

------

The bell above the door jingled as Sam, Riley, and Dean walked into a small Christmas shop. ‘Deck the Halls’ was playing and the entire store was covered from wall to wall in decorations. It smelt of wood and cinnamon with hints of pine.

An older gentleman in glasses and white hair stood behind a glass counter. “Can I help you, kids?”

“Uh--hope so,” Dean answered with a grin. “Uh--we were playing Jenga over at the Walshes’ the other night, and, uh--well,” the older brother gestured to Sam. “He hasn’t shut up since about this Christmas wreath, and…” Looking at Sam, he shot him a teasing look. “I don’t know, you tell him.”

Sam’s annoyance with his brother was hard to contain as he replied, “...sure.” He cleared his throat and turned to the shopkeeper before giving him a tight-lipped smile. “...it was yummy.”

“I sell a lot of wreaths, guys.” The man looked at the three while curious and unsure.

“Right, right, but--but you see, this one would have been really special. It had, uh, it had, uh--green leaves, um...white buds on it. It might have been made of, uh…meadowsweet?”

The shopkeeper sighed. “Well, aren’t you a fussy one?”

Sam looked frustrated and embarrassed but Riley and Dean tried to control their laughter before Dean told the shopkeeper, “oh, he is…”

As he laughed, Sam’s eyes sat on his brother with frustration.

“Anyway, I know the one you’re talking about. I’m all out.”

Realizing that Dean was going to make the trip mostly about giving Sam a hard time, Riley butted in. “Isn’t meadowsweet pretty rare? I mean, it’s gotta be expensive. What made you want to make wreaths out of it?”

“Well, I didn't make them.”

“Oh, uh--who did?”

“Madge Carrigan--a local lady. She said the wreaths were so special, she gave them to me for free.”

“Wait...she didn’t charge you for them?”

“Nope.”

Riley looked at the man with skepticism. “So...you gave them away?”

“Hell no,” the shopkeeper scoffed. “It’s Christmas. People pay a butt-load for this crap.”

With a smile and a nod, Dean added, “that’s the spirit.”

------

Dean flicked on the light of their room as the three walked back inside. “How much do you think a meadowsweet wreath would cost?”

“A couple hundred dollars, at least,” Sam answered.

The family all took off their jackets to put them on the couch before going to sit on their beds.

Riley leaned down and began to unlace her boots. “This lady is just handing out expensive wreaths like that? I mean, definitely sounds suspicious.”

With another happy memory hitting Dean, he smiled and turned to Sam. “Remember that wreath Dad brought home that one year?”

Sam’s brow scrunched not understanding Dean’s joy in the recollection. “You mean the one he stole from, like--a liquor store?”

“Yeah,” he beamed with a smile from ear to ear. “It was a bunch of empty beer cans. That thing was great. I bet if I looked around hard enough, I could probably find one just like it.”

Sighing to himself, Sam shook. “Alright. Dude…what’s going on with you?”

“What?”

“I mean, since when are you Bing Crosby all of a sudden? Why do you want Christmas so bad?”

Riley scooted back to rest against the headboard with her knees bent. “You gonna tell us why you’ve been so against it, Sam? I’ve been feeling it ever since we got on this case. Did things just kinda suck during the holidays when you were a kid?”

“No, that has nothing to do with it.”

Digging even further, Dean questioned, “then what?

“I--I mean, I--I just...I don’t get it. You haven’t talked about Christmas in years.”

Dean paused before shrugging. “Well, yeah. This is my last year.”

Silence fell over the room as Sam and Riley’s hearts sank at the realization.

Riley wondered how she could have not remembered that Dean wouldn’t be around for any more of their Christmases It was then that Riley knew how deeply in denial she was over his time being nearly up. She could feel the tears forming and she cleared her throat before practically jumping off the bed. “I’m gonna go take a shower.”

Before Dean could say anything, Riley hurried off to the bathroom and closed the door behind her. Quickly, she turned on the shower and began to cry. The hunter leaned against the wall before sliding down to the floor. She put her hand over her mouth to stifle her cries and began to sob.

That Christmas would just serve as a reminder that the memories they had already made, would be all they would ever get.

Sam and Dean sat in the quiet, not sure what to say.

That’s when Sam looked up to Dean as he tried to hide the pain he was in. “I know it’s your last, Dean. That’s why I can’t do it.”

“What do you mean?”

The young hunter’s eyes grew red and welled. “I mean I can’t just sit around, drinking eggnog, pretending everything’s okay when I know next Christmas you’ll be dead.” Dean only nodded at what Sam had said. “To be honest, I don’t know if Riley can either. Dean, I--I just can’t.”

Realizing the sadness in Sam’s voice, Dean nodded once again and dropped the subject. With no words left to say, Sam and Dean sat on their beds with their heads hung; Christmas lights twinkling through the window.

------

Christmas Eve 1991

Sam sat on the couch reading a comic book as the snow outside the window continued to fall. He turned to the sound of the door opening as Dean walked inside with a bag of groceries.

“Thought you went out.”

“Yeah, to get you dinner.” Dean tossed his little brother a bag of food. “Don’t forget your vegetables,” he added with a smile as he threw him a bag of Funyuns. Dean took off his jacket and sat down on his bed before opening a soda can.

Determined to be done with the secrets, Sam sat across from Dean. “I know why you keep a gun under your pillow.”

Dean lifted his pillow to make sure his little brother hadn’t taken his pistol to see it unmoved. “No, you don’t. Stay out of my stuff.”

“And I know why we lay salt down everywhere we go.”

“No, you don’t.” Though Dean sounded angry, it was worry. Sam couldn’t know the truth yet, he wasn’t ready to know. “Shut up.”

Sam turned around and grabbed something from underneath his bed. It was a leather book and the Winchester tossed it onto the nightstand between their beds. It was John’s journal.

Standing up, almost in shock that Sam had the book, Dean stared down at his brother. “Where’d you get that? That’s Dad’s! He’s gonna kick your ass for reading that.”

The littlest Winchester met his brother’s gaze without fear. “Are monsters real?”

“What? You’re crazy.”

“Tell me.”

Dean bit his lip in uncertainty and hesitation. He glanced down at the book and then back to Sam. “I swear, if you ever tell Dad I told you any of this, I will end you.”

“Promise.”

As the older brother sat back down, he sighed and rubbed his thighs nervously. “Well, the first thing you have to know is we have the coolest dad in the world. He’s a superhero.”

“He is?” A small smile grew on Sam’s face.

“Yeah. Monsters are real--Dad fights them. He’s fighting them right now.”

“But Dad said the monsters under my bed weren’t real.”

Dean half-laughed at the thought. “That’s ’cause he had already checked under there. But, yeah, they’re real. Almost everything’s real.”

With the innocent eyes of an eight-year-old boy, Sam asked, “...is Santa real?”

Smiling and shaking his head, Dean replied, “no.”

There was a pause as Sam grew sad and his head fell. It was at that moment that Sam’s innocence was gone. Though he didn’t know it, in listening to his brother that night, Sam’s life changed forever. “If monsters are real, then they could get us. They could get me.”

“Dad’s not gonna let them get you.”

“But what if they get him?”

“They aren’t gonna get Dad. Dad’s, like...the best.”

“...I read in Dad’s book that they got Mom.”

Dean exhaled sharply not sure what to say. “It’s complicated, Sam.”

His little brother’s voice broke as his fear and anxiety grew. “If they got Mom, they can get Dad. And if they get Dad, they can get us.”

“It’s not like that.” Dean got up to sit next to Sam on his bed, trying to comfort him as best he could. “Okay? Dad’s fine. We’re fine. Trust me.” Still seeing the fear in his little brother’s eyes, Dean put a hand on his shoulder. “You okay?”

“Yeah,” Sam whispered as he looked away to hide the tears growing in his eyes.

“Hey, Dad’s gonna be here for Christmas. Just like he always is.”

With his lip trembling, Sam refused to face his brother. ashamed of his tears. “I just want to go to sleep, okay?”

“Yeah, okay.” Dean’s voice was soft with guilt. He had dreaded the day that he would have to ruin Sam’s childhood and it weighed heavily on him.

Sam laid down on the bed and cried quietly to himself but Dean never left his side. “It’ll all be better when you wake up.”

Trying to be quiet, Sam began to sob.

“You’ll see, Sam. ...promise.”

------

Cheery Christmas music played on the outside of a large white house with decorations everywhere. A lit up snowman, a sleigh, poinsettias, lights, and bells filled the yard and porch.

As the hunters got out of the Impala, they walked up the concrete path to the brick entrance.

“This is where Mrs. Wreath lives, huh? Can’t you just feel the evil pagan vibe?” Dean snarked before using the brass knocker on the door. With every click, jingle bells clanked from the strip of bells hanging from the handle.

A woman most likely in her late 60’s opened the door with a cheerful grin on her face. “Yes?” She was in an old fashioned pink dress with a white cardigan and matching pearls. Her hair was curled and set, pinned from her face.

“Hi,” Riley began with a smile. “We were hoping you were the Madge Carrigan that made all those beautiful meadowsweet wreaths.”

“Why, yes I am.” Madge’s voice was sweet and full of high spirits.

“Oh, great! We actually were all admiring one of your wreaths at the Sylar’s place the other day.”

As Riley continued to sweet talk Mrs. Carrigan, Dean tried to peer into the home.

Inside looked like the Santa himself lived there. There were countless collectibles, adornments of holly, a large gingerbread house on the table, and garland up the staircase. The strong smell of evergreen and freshly baked cookies wafted out the door.

“You were? Well, isn't that meadowsweet just the finest-smelling thing you ever smelled?”

Sam nodded in agreeance. “It is, it sure is. But, the problem is, is that all you wreaths had sold out before we got the chance to buy one.”

“Oh, fudge!”

“You wouldn’t have another one that we could buy from you, would you?” Dean asked.

“Oh, no, I’m afraid those were the only ones I had for this season.”

Riley glanced up at the boys with a look of disappointment. “Oh, darn it,” she feigned.

Mr. Carrigan came down the staircase in a cardigan with an old-fashioned pipe. He stood by his wife and smiled. The two of them looked far too picture-esque as if they had just time traveled from the 1950’s.

“What's going on, honey?” The man’s voice was just as upbeat and cheery as Madge’s.

She turned to him, her smile never falling. “Well, just some nice kids asking about my wreaths, dear.”

“Oh, the wreaths are fine. Fine wreaths. Oh, care for some peanut brittle?” Mr. Carrigan held out a small red tin filled with sweet treats.

As Dean reached out to take some, Riley slapped Dean’s hand away. “Thank you so much, but we’re okay.”

-------

Dean and Riley’s knives worked to sharpen wooden stakes as they sat on the beds. Five other wooden stakes sat at their feet and on the beds beside them.

In front of his laptop, Sam kept researching until he clapped his hands in a moment of excitement at what he found.

“I knew it! Something was way off with those two.”

“I’m assuming that means you found something.” Riley dusted the wood shavings off her pants and onto the carpet below.

“The Carrigans lived in Seattle, last year, where two abductions took place right around Christmas. They moved here in January. All that Christmas shit in their house--that wasn’t boughs of holly. It was vervain and mint.”

She nodded. “Oof. That screams Pagan.”

“Really?” Dean asked. “‘Cause to me it sounds like the beginning of a well-seasoned recipe.”

“I gotta tell you guys, I wasn’t picking up on anything from them. Literally, nothing. That doesn’t usually happen unless we’re talking about something that isn’t human.”

“So, what, Ozzie and Harriet are keeping a pagan god hidden underneath their plastic-covered couch?”

“I don’t know. All I know is we gotta check them out.” Closing his laptop, Sam got up to inspect one of the stakes. “So, what about Bobby? He’s sure evergreen stakes will kill this thing, right?

Blowing off the dust from her last wooden creation, Riley looked at the sharp end of the stake. “Yup. Time to put down Mr. and Mrs. Christmas with a Christmas tree. Huh,” she paused. “That’s a weird sentence.”

------

Outside the Carrigan house once again, that night, the family stood on the front porch as Dean picked the lock. Riley and Sam kept the lookout and took stakes out of the older brother’s bag as ‘O Come All Ye Faithful’ played into the quiet neighborhood from the porch’s speakers.

Once inside, the hunters quietly moved through the house and into the family room. The Carrigan’s large tree sat in front of their main window;=, its lights lit as if waiting for Santa.

Dean pointed to the couch and whispered, “see? Plastic.” He shook his head disapprovingly and the others gave a judgmental look as well as they touched it.

Riley could hear Dean’s thought as Sam walked a little ahead. “Jesus. Can you imagine having sex on this couch?”

Trying not to giggle, Riley replied, “oh, yeah. Think of how much your ass would stick to that thing.”

There were times where Riley being in Dean’s head still took him by surprise. He turned in her direction with a shake of his head as he mouthed, ‘no thank you’.

In the hall, Sam tried to keep his heavy boots quiet. He was surrounded by ornaments and snow globes as he walked into the kitchen. Plates filled with cookies, cakes, and other sweets lined the table.

To his right, Sam saw a door that led out of the kitchen and most likely into the basement. He clicked on his flashlight to point it at the lock to look more closely. It was open.

“Guys…” he whispered.

Slowly, the hunters headed down the stairs, all with their flashlights shining in front of them. As Dean pointed his directly forward, he saw bones covered in blood sitting in a large bowl. Riley and the brothers looked around and realized the entire basement looked like a butchery room rather than a storage space. Blood, bones, and what looked like metal devices to inflict torture were strewn about the floor and countertops.

A pair of bloody Santa boots and the matching bag, smelt of death as they sat on a box in the corner.

Sam had stumbled upon what looked like an electric wood saw with pieces of cut bone left behind. He scrunched his face in disgust with a groan before moving on.

Nearby, Riley found a bag hanging from a hook on the wall. It was bloody and her curiosity drew her in. As she reached out to touch it, she gasped as the bag began to move with muffled cries. Someone was inside struggling to get free.

Riley jumped at the movement and sensed someone behind her. There was Madge. The woman grabbed Riley’s neck and lifted her off the ground. Softly yelping in surprise, Riley clutched at the hand around her throat.

“Riley!” Sam and Dean shouted in unison hearing her cry as they charged in her direction.

Pushing Riley up against a wall, Madge slammed Riley’s head hard into the brick, letting her drop to the ground. The evil woman slinked back into the shadows just as the brothers rushed around the large basement.

Their lights lit up the way ahead of them, showing Riley lying on the ground and not moving.

Before Sam and Dean could reach her, Mr. Carrigan grabbed Sam’s arm and knocked his head against the wall.

Dean turned at the sound, “Sam!”

At that same moment, a large 2x4 was swung at Dean’s head by Mrs. Carrigan.

With all the hunters down on the ground, the couple smiled.

------

The pagan’s kitchen was lit with candles next to several mortar bowls, knives, and hardware tools. Both Sam and Dean were tied to chairs back to back.

Once finally fully alert, but unable to see his siblings, Sam softly called, “Dean...Rye? You okay?”

Dean groaned as he pulled his head up. “I think so. Where’s Riley?”

“Over here…” Riley replied.

The two looked over toward the sound of her voice to see her to a chair as well that sat firmly against the wall.

“You alright, sweetheart?”

“Aside from the pounding headache, yeah.” Her eyes squinted as she looked over to them.

Sam sighed. “So, I guess we’re dealing with Mr. and Mrs. God. Nice to know.”

Dressed in colorful Christmas-themed sweaters, the Carrigans walked into the kitchen practically beaming seeing the hunters awake.

“Speaking of the Yuletide douchebags…”

“Ooh, and here we thought you three lazybones were gonna sleep straight through all the fun stuff.” Madge giggled as she scurried across the floor to get things from the shelf.

Overly sarcastic no matter what the situation, Dean replied, “and miss all this? Nah, we’re partiers”.

“Isn’t he a kick in the pants, honey?” Mr. Carrigan stared down at them as he took a puff from his pipe. “You’re hunters, is what you are.”

“And you’re pagan gods. So, why don't we just call it even, and go our separate ways?”

Mr. Carrigan laughed. “What, so you can bring more hunters and kill us? I don’t think so.”

Frustrated as he pulled against his restraints, Sam tried to look over his shoulder to leer at the couple. “Maybe you should have thought about that before you went snacking on humans, now, huh?”

“Oh now, don’t get all wet.”

Madge unfolded dinner napkins and began placing them in the hunters’ laps. “Oh, why, we used to take over a hundred tributes a year and that’s a fact. Now, what do we take? What, two? Three?”

“Hardy Boys and Nancy Drew here make five.”

“Now, that’s not so bad, is it?”

Riley was still slightly spinning from the blow to the head but managed to keep her usual level of snark. “Wow, well we were just all wrong about you, weren’t we? I mean--you guys are practically Ward and June Cleaver.”

“You, little miss…” Mr. Carrigan said pointing his pipe at the blue-eyed hunter. “You better show us a little respect.”

“Or what? You’ll eat me?”

The husband laughed heartily as he looked back at Riley. “Well, you know, the missus and I have always felt it best to use men for the rituals. That’s just how it’s always been. But you…” Mr. Carrigan walked closer to Riley who had anger in her eyes. “We figured we might make an exception. Because you’re not completely human are you? No, you’re something special--something… what’s the word I’m looking for, dear?” he asked his wife.

Madge grinned as she continued to set up. “Well, she’s practically a rare delicacy isn’t she?”

“A delicacy. Spot on, dear.” Turning back to Riley, he still practically twinkled with joy. “And I’m betting what you would add to the mix would be just top notch, don’t you agree, honey?” He asked to his wife.

“Oh, absolutely. Might give it the extra kick we’ve needed to help us have it like we did in the good old days. We’re such sticklers for rituals though and have to do this right. And you know what kicks off the whole party?”

“Let me guess…” Dean said jumping in. “Meadowsweet.” Madge ran around the kitchen island with a squeal of excitement in response. “Oh shucks, you’re all out of wreaths. I guess we’ll just have to cancel the sacrifice, huh?”

“Oh, don’t be such a gloomy Gus.” She held three horseshoe-shaped wreaths and hung them all around their captives’ necks. “There. Ohh…don’t they just look darling?”

“Good enough to eat.” Mr. Carrigan smacked his lips as he whipped out a knife. “Alrighty-roo. Step number two.” Carrying a bowl and the blade, he walked to Sam. The man held the bowl under the Winchester’s arm and prepared to cut him with the knife.

Dean fought with all his strength to turn to his little brother, but to no avail. “Sammy?! Sammy?!”

“D-Don’t!” Sam’s demand almost sounded like a plea before it slowly turned to a scream as Mr. Carrigan tore into his flesh.

Both Riley and Dean shouted over each other with anger at Sam’s pain.

“Leave him alone, you son of a bitch! I swear to god, I’ll kill you!”

“This might pinch a bit, dear.” Mrs. Carrigan had gone to Riley and the hunter bore her eyes into the god.

“You hurt her and I’ll fucking rip you apart,” Dean growled.

Riley’s teeth gritted together through her scream and she squeezed her eyes shut as the blade cut into her forearm. Only a second later, another cry ripped from her throat as Mrs. Carrigan cut her other arm as well.

Dean’s rage boiled inside him and his chair only slightly moved at the force he fought against it with. His family was being tortured and it was driving him to the brink of insanity.

It was then Dean’s turn to have the blade cut into him and he too released a shout of pain. “You fucking bitch!”

“Oh, my goodness me! Somebody owes a couple of nickels to the swear jar. Oh, do you know what I say when I feel like swearing? ‘Fudge’.”

Panting, Dean snarked, “I’ll try and remember that!” As she smiled at him, the woman brought the knife back down to his other side. “You fudging touch me again and I’ll fudging kill you!”

“Very good!” she exclaimed, cutting into the hunter once more as he groaned in pain.

Mr. Carrigan picked up a pair of pliers and walked back to Sam. “You kids have no idea how lucky you are. There was a time when kids came from miles around, just to be sitting where you are.”

With panic in his voice, Sam’s chest rose and fell rapidly. “What do you think you’re doing with those? No. No. Don’t.”

The man took the pliers to Sam’s index finger and began to pull the nail off as Sam screamed.

In a state of distress, Riley couldn’t block her empathic abilities and began to wail along with him. It felt as though her own fingernail was being torn from her body.

The two gods turned to each other with astonishment and then back at her with Sam’s nail pinched in the pliers.

“Oh, my goodness, me…” Mrs. Carrigan exclaimed. “Darling, I think we’ve found ourselves an empath.”

After putting the nail into the bowl that was drenched in the hunters’ blood, he put down the pliers and clapped with excitement. “Well, hotdog! It’s officially a party!” Mr. Carrigan tapped his head ridiculously remembering something. “Sweet Peter on a popsicle stick…I forgot the tooth.”

Sam, Riley, and Dean were all panting hard trying to overcome their pain.

“Merry Christmas, guys,” Dean uttered as the others groaned.

With the pliers in his hand once again, Carrigan grabbed Dean’s chin. “Open wide… and say, ‘aah’.” Just as he put the tool into Dean’s mouth, the doorbell rang.

“Somebody gonna get that?” Dean asked, his voice muffled with the pliers still in his mouth. “You should get that.”

Mr. Carrigan rolled his eyes and motioned for his wife. “Come on.”

As soon as the couple was out of the room, Dean looked over to Riley. “We gotta get out of here. I don’t wanna be this year’s Christmas turkey.”

“Yeah,” Riley agreed out of breath. “Can we kill them now, please?”

“Oh, yeah…” Sam muttered.

------

Mr. and Mrs. Carrigan came back into the kitchen with smiles on their faces. “Now, where were we?” Madge giggled.

Riley and the Winchesters were no longer in their chairs. The gods saw one of the doors close with a slam and they turned around to see the other door close as well.

Sam and Riley were standing against one as they tried to keep it shut and Dean did the same on his end.

The Carrigans pounded on the door, again and again, fighting the hunters attempt to lock them in.

Dean pulled a large drawer to hold his door closed and ran to help his partners. As soon as Dean was against the banging door, Riley let go and ran across the room only to shove the Christmas tree to the ground. The ornaments crashed on the hardwood and shattered as her hands went into the branches.

“Damn, Rye!” Sam yelled. “I know they were gonna eat us, but what did the tree do?”

She grunted as she yanked a branch off. “Stakes are in the basement. Luckily, we got some fresh evergreen right here.”

Dean grinned and shook his head. “You’re fucking brilliant, you know that?”

Riley nodded playfully as Dean looked to a large cabinet. “Sam! Help me get this.”

The brothers moved the cabinet in front of the tree and rushed to grab branches from the tree. They stripped them of their needles and prepared to fight.

It went silent as they approached the kitchen door. Suddenly, Mr. Carrigan tackled Dean to the ground and began punching him again and again.

Sam shouted, “Dean!” as he ran to his aid and fought to get the man off his brother.

A sound came from behind Riley and she turned to see Madge smiling back at her. “You little thing.” Her face distorted momentarily and swung violently in almost a blur. “I loved that tree.”

As Riley went to raise her stake, Madge hit her and the hunter crashed into the couch and onto the floor. She grabbed branches at her side as the god walked towards her and hit her as hard as she could.

Riley fought to keep the woman at arm's length as the Winchesters overpowered Mr. Carrigan. Sam pinned him to the ground as Dean shoved the stake into his chest.

Madge screamed as she watched her husband and froze in shock, giving Riley the perfect opportunity to stab her with her own stake. The hunter scrunched her face and grunted as she pushed the stake further in before Madge fell to the ground, dead.

The three struggled to catch their breaths as they looked at each other.

“Merry Christmas,” Sam said through ragged breath.

------

Christmas Eve 1991

All was quiet as the children of the world waited for Santa. The snow continued to fall over the motel housing the lonely Winchester boys as Sam slept soundly in his bed.

Dean went to his side and shook his brother to wake him. “Sam, wake up!”

Just as Sam’s eyes began to open, he turned towards Dean who had a smile on his face.

“Dad was here. Look what he brought.”

His gaze turned around to see a little Christmas tree, decorated with a few large and colorful lights. A few small presents sat beneath the small piece of chopped evergreen.

“Dad was here?” Sam asked groggily.

“Yeah. Look at this. We made a killing.”

Yawning, Sam mumbled, “why didn't he try to wake me up?”

Dean thought quickly on his feet with a playful scoff. “He tried to, like a thousand times.”

“He did?”

“Yeah. Did I tell you he would give us Christmas, or what? Go on, dive in.”

Sam leaped from his bed and hurried over to the Christmas tree. He found two presents wrapped with themed wrapping paper; one even was adorned with a shiny green bow.

Sitting on the couch, he began to unwrap his first gift.

Dean sat on the arm of the couch and watched his little brother with excitement. “What is it?”

Baffled, Sam held up a pink box. “Sapphire Barbie?”

The older brother chuckled. “Dad probably thinks you’re a girl.”

“Shut up!” Sam tossed the Barbie to the ground.

“Open that one.”

As the youngest Winchester opened his second gift, he found a sparkling cheerleading stick.

John had broken his promise, again.

Sam held it in his hands sadly before looking to Dean. “Dad never showed, did he?”

“Yeah, he did, I swear.”

“Dean…where’d you get all this stuff?”

Realizing he couldn’t lie anymore, Dean’s eye cast down with a sigh. “Nice house up the block. I swear I didn’t know they were chick presents.” Dean watched his sad brother with a heavy heart, desperate to bring him comfort. “Look, I’m sure Dad would have been here if he could.”

“If he’s alive.”

“Don’t say that. Of course, he’s alive. He’s Dad.”

It was then that Sam noticed the heavy burden on Dean’s shoulders; that his big brother worried just as much as Sam did. Grabbing the present he had wrapped in newspaper earlier that night, he held it out to Dean. “Here, take this.”

“No. No, that’s for Dad.”

“Dad lied to me. I want you to have it.” Sam continued to hold out the gift to Dean with a small curl on his lip.

“You sure?”

“I’m sure.”

Trying to hide his moment of excitement, Dean finally took the gift and began to tear into it. Inside, was a necklace. It was a black cord that had an amulet hanging in from it. The piece was a metallic gold color and depicted the head of a humanoid being with horns and tribal adornment.

Dean couldn’t remember the last time he smiled so genuinely as he held the amulet in his hand. “Thank you, Sam. I--I love it.” He proudly put the necklace on over his head and the boys sat in silence with an unspoken love between them.

Even if they were alone on Christmas, as long as they had each other, that would always be enough.

------

There wasn’t a day that had passed since that Christmas Eve, almost sixteen years before, that Dean hadn’t worn that necklace. It was practically a part of who he was.

Dean walked into their motel room and grinned with surprise. Riley and Sam had decorated the room with a small Christmas tree and a ‘Merry Christmas’ sign. Ella Fitzgerald’s ‘Have Yourself a Merry Little Christmas’ played as Riley smiled in his direction, putting on the final ornament. Sam looked at his brother lovingly as Dean took it all in.

With amazement and joy in his eyes, Dean asked, “what’s all this?”

Riley stood next to Sam and shrugged playfully. “Looks like Christmas to me.”

Dean’s eyes met his brothers with a smirk. “What made you change your mind?”

Handing his big brother a glass of eggnog, Sam ignored his question. “Here, uh--try the eggnog. Let me know if it needs some more kick.”

With only a single sip, Dean coughed, looking surprised at the taste. “No, we’re good,” he practically wheezed through his cough.

“Good. Well, uh--have a seat. Let’s do…Christmas stuff, or whatever.”

Dean nodded happily as he took off his jacket. “Alright, first things first.” As Sam and Riley sat on the brown, worn couch, Dean pulled up a chair. He took out four packages wrapped in brown paper from a plastic bag and held them out to his family. “Merry Christmas, guys.”

The two smiled as they took them and Riley peered up at him. “Where’d you even go?”

“Someplace special,” Dean replied. The two looked at him waiting for a better answer. “The gas mart down the street.” His brother and girlfriend laughed at his response. “Open them up.”

Both Sam and his sister reached under the couch for four more packages, each all wrapped in newspaper. The two swapped gifts between them and Sam kissed Riley’s temple before they gave Dean his.

With surprise and excitement, Dean asked, “really?” before taking his gifts.

Sam opened his first gift and laughed as he held up two porn magazines. “Skin mags!” Dean nodded, satisfied with Sam’s reaction as his brother opened his next gift. “And…shaving cream.”

“You like?”

“Yeah,” Sam smiled from ear to ear. “Yeah.” Opening his next two from Riley, Sam found a bag of trail mix and a small bottle of lotion. “Lotion?” he asked with an uncertain smile.

Riley chuckled. “Well, it was supposed to be a joke, but now it goes perfectly with your new porn, brother!”

Dean threw his head back in laughter, practically grabbing his stomach.

Giving her a teasing middle finger, Sam smiled and feigned, “haha, very funny. But I’m about to bust into this trail mix as soon as we’re done. Thanks, sis.”

The Winchesters turned to Riley showing it was her turn to open hers and she giggled unwrapping her gifts. She laughed as she found two of her favorite chocolate candy bars, a bottle of gas station-brand scented soap, and a pair of fluffy blue socks. “Oh, boys...you spoil me,” she beamed. “Thank you, guys.”

“Merry Christmas, sweetheart,” Dean said as Riley went to him to give him a kiss. He opened his arms allowing her to sit on his lap and he wrapped himself around her as he opened his. Sheer joy covered his face as he found a bottle of motor oi, and a candy bar. “Look at this. Fuel for me and fuel for my baby. These are awesome. Thanks.” Dean’s face looked like it was probably beginning to ache with a smile that couldn’t stop.

Opening his next gifts, he found a pair of sunglasses and a Christmas bow. “Uh--Rye, I think the bow goes on the gifts, sweetheart.”

“That is very true.” Riley took the bow, removed its sticker, and slapped it on her chest, right above her breasts. “Merry Christmas, babe.”

Dean laughed as his face buried into her neck, holding her close. Riley squealed and his fingers pinched her chin before he kissed her, smiling against her lips. “Best gifts ever.” He picked up his eggnog and grinned as he held it out, “Merry Christmas, guys.”

Sam and Riley held their plastic glasses out as well and they toasted them together.

“Merry Christmas,” they all said.

The room fell quiet as spirits briefly fell. They all knew that Christmas would be the last they would spend together.

Riley was consumed by the Winchester’s heavy hearts and she exhaled hard trying to shut it out. If that was going to be their last Christmas, they were going to do it right. She got up and rushed to her bag before she ran back with a camera. The brothers groaned with a laugh as she sat on the couch and motioned for them.

“Yeah, yeah. Stop complaining and smile for our Christmas card,” she joked.

Dean wrapped his arm around her and pulled her close as Sam reluctantly scooted to her side. It didn’t take more than a few seconds for Sam and Dean to smile along with her before the flash went off.

As they pulled apart, Dean took the camera from her. When she looked at him, he pulled her in for a kiss as he reached his arm far out to take a picture. Their lips were curled with contentment as he triggered the camera.

Sam opened his mouth to speak as the couple pulled apart and Dean looked to his brother with worry over what he would say.

“Hey, Dean, y–-” Sam looked sad as he fumbled for his words. He hesitated and then sighed before meeting his brother’s eyes. “Do you feel like watching the game?”

Dean smiled in relief. “Absolutely.”

“Alright.”

Standing up, Sam reached over to turn on the old TV set. The three sat on the couch together as they watched the winter football game. The brothers smirked at each other and Dean pulled Riley to his chest as he drank his eggnog.

In the silence, all that was left was the whistle of the referee and the voice of the announcer.

As Dean kissed the top of Riley’s head, he inhaled her scent and laced his fingers with hers.

Their night was perfect, and whatever would happen tomorrow, would be tomorrow. All that mattered was being with Sam and Riley. That night was all Dean needed to find the strength to keep going. He knew that all he would ever need was his family.

So, for the first time in eight months, Dean relaxed and felt contentment run through him. If there was a heaven, Dean was sure that it was what he had at that moment. And if Hell was what awaited him, that memory would be enough to keep his spirit alive.

Outside, snow began to gently fall to the ground. With all right once again on that Michigan night, there would be a white Christmas. It fluttered softly onto the Impala as lights twinkled in the shine of her hood.

And through the window, sat the three hunters, lost in what would become one of their favorite memories.

------

S3 Chapter 8: Dream a Little Dream of Me

Let me know if you would like to be subscribed to all things Wayward Hearts :)

Wayward Hearts Tag List: @coffee-obsessed-writer @waywardmoeyy @00slayer @adoptdontshoppets @crystallstaircase @salt-n-burn-em-all @nerd-in-a-galaxy-far-away @becs-bunker @squirrelnotsam @fandommaniacx @death-unbecomes-you @themoonandotherslikeit @son-ova-bitch @huntersociopathavenger @flamencodiva @aaspiringhero @gemini0410 @love-nakamura @klinenovakwinchester @cemmia @mirandaaustin93 @paintballkid711 @da5haexowin @a-manduhhhhh @samanddeanaremybbyboys @winchestergirl82 @spnbaby-67 @sandycub @bunnybaby121115 @erins-culinary-service @lauravic @moonxdance @knights0fkylo @panicatthewestwing @moonxdance @rainflowermoon

48 notes · View notes

littlej097 · 6 years ago

Text

The Heart of Christmas - Day 8 - House/Gift

Summary: Kurt is a single father just trying to make it through the Christmas season. However, when he meets, celebrity, Blaine Anderson, his world is turned upside down. If one thing is for sure, this Christmas season will change both of their lives forever.

Notes: Catching up slowly but surely!

Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, Part 5, Part 6, Part 7

The drive back to Blaine’s house was silent. Kurt sat silently staring out the window with tears clouding his vision. He couldn’t believe that this was happening...that this was real. Clara didn’t really seem to understand what was going on.

“Can’t the firemen put our house out and then we can go back?” She asked.

“It doesn’t work exactly like that honey.” Blaine told her when he saw that Kurt couldn’t even speak.

“Where are we going now?”

“We’re going to go to my house for now, okay?” Clara nodded in the backseat. She clutched the tiny baby doll that she had brought with them. Blaine realized that it very well may be her only toy left. When they got to Blaine’s apartment the three of them went inside and were greeted by Maggie.

“Go lay down.” Blaine told them dog strictly. The lab whimpered and did what she was told. “Hey Clara, how about we find something for you to wear as pajamas.”

“Okay,” the five year old replied with a yawn. Blaine took her hand, while Kurt simply took a seat onto Blaine’s couch. It was clear Kurt was in a little bit of shock. Blaine led Clara into his bedroom and pulled out a large black t-shirt.

“How about this? It can be a nightgown.” Clara nodded, her eyes getting sleepier and eyelids drooping. Blaine helped the little girl get ready and it was clear that she was so exhausted. “Are you ready for bed?” he asked. Clara nodded and lifted her arms up to Blaine. Figuring that meant she wanted to be picked up, Blaine did just that. He brought the little girl to his guest room and tucked her under the sheets. “Where’s my daddy?”

“He’ll be in soon okay. Just close your eyes. Everything is going to be okay.” he told her, even though that was a complete lie. Things were going to change for Kurt and Clara and not for the better. Clara shut her eyes and hugged her doll and began to go to sleep. Blaine tiptoed out of the room and went back into the living room to comfort Kurt. When he got there, Kurt was sitting straight up on the couch just staring at his living room wall.

“Kurt…” Blaine said tentatively. “Do-do you wanna talk?” Kurt didn’t reply. Blaine walked closer and took a seat next to him on the couch. He placed a hand onto Kurt’s back and almost instantly, Kurt fell to pieces. The tears that had been on the verge of overflowing cascaded down his cheeks and his breathing started to get quicker. Blaine took Kurt into his arms and held him tightly. “It’s going to be okay.” he whispered. “Shh Shh, it’s going to be alright.” Kurt cried like that for a long time and Blaine just continued to hold him. Then, eventually, Kurt stopped crying and was silent, but he hadn’t moved from Blaine’s grasp.

“It’s not going to be okay.” Kurt whispered. “Everything -everything is going to be gone.”

“You don’t know that.” Blaine replied. “Some things could have survived. You have to try to have hope.”

“How can I have hope, Blaine? My daughter and I are homeless.” Kurt said.

“You can stay here as long as you like. You and Clara will never be on the streets. I will make sure of it.” Blaine told him. “We’ll figure something out. They’re just things. Let’s just be thankful that you and Clara weren’t in the building when the fire started.”

“I-I just can’t believe this is happening…”

“I know. Tomorrow, we’ll go over to the building and see if we’re allowed inside.” Blaine told him. “Tonight, there’s nothing more we can do other than go to sleep and prepare for tomorrow.”

“Clara?” Kurt said suddenly. It was like he had finally woken up from his daze and just realized that he once again had a child.

“She’s sleeping.” Blaine replied. “She’s okay. I promise. You can sleep with her if you want.”

“No. Don’t leave me. Never leave me.” Kurt replied. Blaine enveloped Kurt into another hug and kissed him on the forehead.

“Never.” he told him. Blaine stood up and led Kurt into his bedroom instead. After giving him a pair of pajamas, they crawled into bed together. Kurt placed his head onto Blaine’s stomach and Blaine wrapped his arms tightly around him. To took a while , but eventually both men fell asleep.

The next morning, things were strange. Kurt decided that Clara should go to school. Keeping her routine the same as much as they could was important. She didn’t have any other clothing so Kurt was forced to put Clara back in her outfit from yesterday. “Why can’t I go with you and Blaine?” Clara asked.

“The building is going to be dangerous honey.” Kurt told her. “Plus, you’ll have a better time at school. Aren’t you going to the Christmas play today?” he asked. Clara nodded. “See, you’ll have so much fun. And I’ll pick you up after school okay?” Once again she just nodded. “I love you.” Kurt told her before sending her in the front door of the school. Taking a deep breath, Kurt turned around and joined Blaine back on the sidewalk.

“Are you ready for this?” Blaine asked.

“No. But I don’t really have a choice.” Kurt said. They walked the short distance from Clara’s school to the apartment building. The area still reeked of smoke and there was caution tape. They saw a police officer and walked over to him. “Excuse me, I-I live - well I used to live in this building. Is anyone allowed in? I just want to check and see if any of our things made it.” The officer seemed hesitant but he eventually agreed.

“Did they determine what caused the fire?” Blaine asked.

“They think it was some faulty wiring.” The officer told him. “The building’s frame is still okay for now, but it won’t be livable anytime soon.”

“This is my apartment.” Kurt told the man. “We’ll let you know when we’re done.” The officer nodded and went back to his post. Kurt pushed the door open and gasped at what he saw. Much of the apartment was coated in ash. The kitchen was very damaged and didn’t look like much of anything was left. The living room looked the same. Everything smelled like smoke. They moved down the hallway towards Kurt and Clara’s rooms. Clara’s room was also badly damaged. Her bed was covered in ash. Blaine walked over to her closet and slowly opened the doors.

“Some of her clothes look okay. But they smell like smoke.” Blaine said. “We can try washing them, so she’ll have some things to wear.” Kurt nodded. He walked over to Clara’s metal toy chest and opened it. Some of the things inside were actually okay. There were a few barbies, some baby dolls and there at the bottom of the chest was a multicolored knit blanket.

“I-I can’t believe it survived.” Kurt said. He picked the blanket up and held it to his chest.

“What is it?” Blaine asked.

“Clara’s baby blanket. It was mine though when I was little. My mom made it for me...before she died.” Kurt told him. “She- um - had cancer. She passed when I was 8.”

“Kurt, I’m so sorry.”

“She’s the reason for Clara’s name.” Kurt said, still staring at the blanket.

“Her name was Clara?”

“No. Not exactly.” Kurt replied. “My mother’s name was Elizabeth, which is Clara’s middle name. But Clara comes from the Nutcracker. Christmas was my Mom’s absolute favorite season. She loved everything about it. The lights and the music and just being with family. Her favorite ballet was the Nutcracker and we’d go every Christmas season to see it. I always loved the show too and I thought Clara was the prettiest name.”

“It is a beautiful name.” Blaine replied. “I’ll start boxing up some of the usable things if you want to go and see your room.” Kurt nodded and handed the blanket over to Blaine. He then walked next door to his room. It looked a lot like Clara’s, but Kurt also had some clothing left. He walked to the back of his own closet and found a little box. It was somehow untouched. Kurt smiled for the first time since he found out about the fire. He opened it and inside were tons of pictures He took a seat on the floor and began looking through them. Blaine joined soon after and took a seat.

“She was pretty cute.” Blaine said, looking at a baby picture of Clara.

“Yeah, she was...well still is.” Kurt said with laugh. He continued to thumb through the pictures. He came to one of him and another man and stopped.

“Who is that?” Blaine asked.

“That-that’s Luca.” Kurt replied. “I was with him for four years. We decided to have Clara together and then at the last minute, he said that he just couldn’t. He wasn’t made to be a dad. He left when Rachel was nine months pregnant. Clara was born three weeks later. That was one of the hardest times in my life. I was so depressed but as soon as Clara was born, it was like I could breathe again. That little girl is everything to me...and that’s why I’m so careful with her. I haven’t wanted to bring anyone into her life because I never wanted her to feel that pain that I did when Luca left. So, I haven’t been with anyone...until you.”

“Kurt, I just want you to know that I-” Blaine paused. This was a little soon for this but he couldn’t help how he felt. “Kurt, I love you. And, I love Clara. She is such a special little girl. And I will never leave you like he did. I may have not been a part of the decision for Clara to come into the world, but in the short time that I’ve known her, she has wrapped me around her little finger and I want to give her and you the world.” Kurt smiled and dove into Blaine’s arms for a hug. He wasn’t ready to say “I love you” back, but he knew with time that he could get there.

#klaine advent 2018 #klaine advent: house #littlej097 #daddy!klaine #celebrity!blaine

36 notes · View notes

pixiealtaira · 6 years ago

Text

To Find Your Peace

Authors Note: This is number one of the not posted Hummel Holidays fics....this had been stuck for well over a year and 9 months or so because I couldn’t find the right mood to describe tacky Christmas decorations. Obviously, I should have just waited until July, when I find most Christmas decorations tacky...due to the fact I shouldn’t have to see them in stores yet...(here’s looking at you Hobby Lobby!)

Anyway, on to the story

To Find Your Peace

rated:PG

Pairing: None.

Prompt 5: Decorations

Kurt should have known something was up the day after Thanksgiving...but he had believed his dad when he’d said that they were going to blend family traditions for holidays just like they’d blended families and no single family was going to be given precedence. They all insisted…well his dad and Carole…that the first Thanksgiving wasn’t going to count at all because it was all about introducing families to each other for a longer period of time than the wedding and just making sure no one killed anyone else. Therefore no one’s traditions were being used.

However…he should have realized something was up when he asked his dad what time to be home from shopping so they could put up the outdoor lights and his dad had answered he didn’t need to worry about it, especially since his dad then handed over five hundred bucks and hadn’t even told Kurt to get something nice for the Mildreds and whoever else was usually on his dad’s Christmas shopping list from the mall and then to use whatever extra Kurt ended up with on something fun, like he usually did if he gave Kurt money for Black Friday shopping. (Kurt did his dad’s shopping anyway; he even bought a few base gifts for Carole and Finn. It hadn’t been worth it…although his dad approved of the gifts he’d picked, he complained the whole time that now he had to find somewhere to hide them all until Christmas, because apparently Finn was a snooper, go figure. Kurt ended up needing to wrap everything up and take everything with him to school. And since he had the stuff at school he had to spend the money to send off the gifts to everyone on his dad’s list who was out of town and had to finish up shopping for the guys his dad worked for since his dad couldn’t remember what Kurt had already bought and his dad didn’t send extra money for any of that.)

His second clue that something was amiss should have been that he distinctly remembered Puck talking about the Hudson’s house being all light up by Thanksgiving time every year. So, if they were combining traditions, shouldn’t putting up lights outside the day after thanksgiving have been within the realms of combining tradition?

But he didn’t notice anything was off and he trusted his dad, and so his requests to hang lights were put off for the rest of the weekend and then it was Monday and he was back off to Dalton and he was well aware he wasn’t getting home until school let out for break unless he was extremely lucky…which he hadn’t been. He may not have been at Dalton for long, but he still had to take finals with the rest of the bunch. Kurt figured he’d averaged about three hours of sleep a night from the time he got back from Thanksgiving to the last of day finals…the 16th… which was the last day of regular classes, although he wasn’t allowed to go home until the 22nd, unless his parent came and checked him out…which his parent hadn’t. His parent hadn’t even shown up for the Dalton Parent’s day on the 17th, let alone checked him out early. That was embarrassing. He still has no idea if anyone bought his emergency at the shop story.

Kurt had had a miserable December. No one helped brighten it at all. (Blaine might have brightened it briefly with the song they sang together; however he promptly went on to dis Kurt’s festive accessories and tell him to stop singing Christmas carols in the halls, so no…) There was no advent of daily activities. And although his dad did make it to the Nutcracker to see it with him, like he’d promised right after his heart attack, he missed half of it because a ball game he was watching with Finn went into overtime. It wasn’t even a game that involved either of the two’s favorite teams. And Burt left immediately afterwards because Carole wanted Burt to go out to eat with her and had made reservations for them and Burt didn’t want her upset if he didn’t make it. Kurt was given house demerit points for his string of lights and the electric candle in his window and the holly and ivy garland he’d hung in his room (and for the sprig of Holly he attached to his uniform and the hot chocolate maker he had in his room.) The only one who appreciated the card he’d given them was Jeff, at least as far as he could tell. He even got in trouble for baking, because he was distracting too many boys from their studying. And he found out the last day of class that he probably couldn’t board the next semester unless they could fork over at least another three thousand bucks on top of tuition….which they’d only managed to pay for the quarter, not the full semester…by the end of December (and that wasn’t even the full boarding amount, since they hadn’t been informed they needed to fill out paperwork to keep Kurt’s emergency student status past the end of the semester). (Apparently the Headmaster had emailed his father about it early in December, but his dad hadn’t responded at all.) Kurt had packed everything in his dorm room that he wasn’t using and moved it to his SUV that night. There was no way they could come up with that much on top of tuition in less than two weeks, not In December. Then he got reprimanded for watching unapproved videos over the weekend after most the other boys had left, except those staying the whole vacation period. The last few days were spent working off his demerit points by cleaning classrooms for teachers who were as unhappy to still be at the school as he was. He was looking forward to going home and putting up the Christmas tree and relaxing by a fire in the fireplace while he sipped hot chocolate. He was going to play Christmas Music and sing to it as loud as he wanted and watch Christmas Movies, maybe even all night long! He was finally freed to head home at what would have been then end of the school day of the 22nd. Kurt finished packing the SUV with the rest of his stuff and left Dalton. It was past 3pm when he finally got out of there.

It snowed the whole drive home -blizzard conditions- so the two hour drive took nearly twice as long. He’d nearly been run off the road three times and each time he later saw the idiot drivers in the ditch. He’d been stuck as emergency vehicles struggled to get through for twenty minutes behind a diesel truck which wasn’t burning its fuel properly. His head hurt and he was cold and tense. By the time Kurt pulled onto the street the house was on all he wanted was to go home and hopefully be able to get things together for Christmas with some semblance of sanity surviving to maybe even enjoy something about the season. He figured the outside lights would be up, but he looked forward to decorating inside. Surely his dad had left the garlands for him to do and the tree for him to help with. He dreamed all the way home of putting the garland up the banisters on the stair cases, and over the mantle of the fireplace. He thought about what cute things they could do with a wreath for the front door, because surely Carole and Finn would enjoy one and so his dad would finally allow one. Maybe his dad would even agree to a garland along the tops of the china cabinets and the bookshelves this year. Kurt had been trying for years (since the year after his mom died) to get his dad to agree to more than just the tree and a garland on the fire place mantle, finally winning the banisters when he was 14. His dad always said that more than that was just not necessary, a waste of money, and too much in a tasteless manner, not a good one. Kurt had found some plaid ribbon though, and some woodland critters which would be sedate and not too loud, so maybe that could convince his dad. He thought about what ornaments needed to be on the tree, and which could be left off so Finn and Carole could have space for theirs. He wondered what stories he’d learn as they put up the tree and talked about what the ornaments meant or when they were bought or made.

He was debating inside his head whether or not to include the Elvis Bear on the tree when he realized he’d driven past his house…because that monstrosity of tasteless inflatables and obnoxious outdoor illumination could not possibly be his house. His dad wouldn’t even allow Kurt to string lights around the small pine in the front yard or exchange the regular walkway light for candy canes or Christmas shaped lights. The inflatables up in their yard weren’t even tasteful inflatables. There was Sponge Bob and Simpsons and Mario and Mr.Potato Head inflatables…and was that Santa in an outhouse with half his rear end showing? There was a Santa in a hot tub…and a Santa waving from a camper…and some sort of superhero group. On the top of the house were wooden Reindeer cutouts, lit up and a fake chimney with Santa’s butt showing…again…lit up so no one could miss it. The house was dripping with lights, in no orderly fashion what so ever…lights of multi colored lights went into white blinking lights or icicle lights then back to colored, no pattern or reason to them. The colored lights didn’t match each other and even the white lights didn’t match each other. There were even pink and turquoise lights and purple lights. There were lit stars and snowflakes, which Kurt would have liked had they been hanging from the eves like they were meant to be and not attached to the side of the house, literally…to the siding...at least a foot under the window sills. Everything was covered in lights, but not well…light nets weren’t put on correctly and left huge sections blank, only half of things were strung with lights, or if the full item was cover, it wasn’t covered with anything that matched. There were dozens of animatronic lit critters…bears, deer, reindeer, penguins…that didn’t match...as some were again colored and some were white (different whites as well), and dozens of those spiral trees his father had forbidden Kurt from having (Kurt had wanted two… a tall one and a shorter one.)…several of which actually clashed with each other even though they sat right next to each other. There were large plastic candy canes and plastic choir boys and plastic carolers and plastic Santas and plastics elves and plastic snowmen and plastic candles and Kurt thought he might even see plastic aliens in the yard, and possibly a plastic camel. They were scattered throughout the yard like someone had shaken a dice cup and let loose. The walkways to the house were lined with Red and Green and blue and white and orange and black rope lights, in no manner that made any sense. Kurt pulled into the drive way and stared.

When he opened the car door, he was blasted with four different Christmas songs being piped out from somewhere in the mess. The cacophony was nearly painful. Kurt wasn’t even allowed to play Christmas Music loud enough to be heard throughout the house, let alone outside it.

Kurt sat in his SUV and stared. The front porch not only had a wreath on the front door, one of those huge ones made of garishly colored mesh…it was bright pink and lime green and teal for goodness sake and the only thing that made it look Christmas like was that it was covered in glass balls of the same garish colors…but it had wreathes on both the pillars of the porch and they didn’t match. One was a huge evergreen wreath that would have been lovely without the batman themed ribbon and decorations and the other was made of the type of bows you buy in bulk to put on presents, with the sticky square backs, in the worst color assortment ever.

Strands of gold, silver, green and red tinsel garlands hung on each side of the door…just hung down, the slight breeze was making them sway to and fro. Across the top of the door was a baby blue fake pine garland trimmed with pink lights. The blue of the garland clashed with the teal of the wreath, let alone everything hanging to the sides of the door. The porch was littered with wood cutouts that were poorly painted. One of the elves looked positively demonic and seemed to have pointed buck teeth painted on it.

Even the normal tasteful sconces that generally served as the covers to the porch lights had been replaced by hideous Santa faces from which the glow of the porch lights made Santa look like his eyes were glowing.

Kurt took a deep breath; grabbed two suitcases filled with his stuff from Dalton in them, and braved the front door. The moment he stepped on the porch a new set of Christmas Music blasted through speakers. It didn’t mesh with any of the other blaring songs at all. He scrunched up his face and plotted the closest way to the nearest pain meds to ease his head ache and then the fastest way to his bedroom. Then he opened the door.

It looked like a five year old had hung streamers for a birthday party, except with tacky tinsel garlands and crepe paper in every color sold. There was no pattern to the mess, just tinsel garland and crepe paper tacked into the ceiling, hanging down to far, criss-crossing willy nilly and clashing often. The entry way walls were plastered in holiday pictures and cutouts and even window clings that had been taped to the wall with packing tape. There were tacky singing fish wearing Santa and Elf hats that sang as you walked in the door. Somewhere else in the other room other singing things started up, ones that were noise activated. Christmas music blasted through the house, loud and annoying.

There was nowhere to hang his coat or put his shoes because the coat rack and shoe cubbies were filled with horrid Christmas sweaters hung where they could be seen and bins of pine cones and wooden blocks painted like gifts…poorly painted….and the most horrid mixed colors of…plastic balls…and sticks? Ribbon bows were tied to everything they could be tied to, often with jingle bells hanging from them…but there wasn’t any cohesive color scheme. There were purple and pink and red and green and lilac and neon yellow and lime green and orange and brown and black and a red that was either brick or blood bows scattered throughout the entryway and hall. The floor itself was covered in Christmas themed welcome mats….dozens laid out on the floor in a odd type of runner. The entry ways to the living room and dining room were framed by stringy tinsel like the front door, which seemed to reach out to him as he walked by due to the mass amount of static generated by the sheer amount of tinsel.

He walked by the arched opening to the dining room first and looked in. And immediately wished he hadn’t. There were four Christmas trees on the dining room table. They weren’t small, really, each was about three feet to three and a half feet tall. They were mashed together due to the fact the dining room table lacked the space for them all. One was bright pink and one was lime green, the other two were pine colored, and at least one was real judging by the amount of pine needles on the table. The pink tree was covered with cupcakes and the most hideously scary looking gingerbread ornaments and baby blue beads and ribbons and purple topical scary looking birds with huge feathered tails and flamingos and cocktail glasses and donuts and then Victorian looking lace and cones…that weren’t the same nearly neon pink as the tree and so looked bad on it. The lights were bright red and blinked.

The lime green one wasn’t any better. There were red and lime green balls and ribbons and lots of candy ornaments in various colors and patterns, shoved in with feathery birds in extremely bright pinks and teals and purples and yellows and oranges, neon colored swim suits and goggles and snorkels and swim fins, and loads of very bright fake extremely glittered citrus fruit. The birds didn’t even match the other tree. The tree was topped with peacock feathers….the colors of which matched maybe one freaking feathered bird. The lime green tree’s lights were bright pink and chased through some strangely timed pattern.

The real pine tree was covered in small kitchen ware and bake ware type items, and could have been fine if not also mixed with seashells and sand dollars and beach items and a ribbon that went around it that encouraged all to have a Bloody Merry Christmas and looked like it was splattered with blood. It also had bright red lights, a shade darker and adding to the blood feel.

The final tree was completely stuffed with religious ornaments. He’d been to Aunt Mildred’s during Christmas season. Aunt Mildred was very…evangelical. She did a Jesse tree and Nativity tree. Everything was wrapped in Jesus Loves You paper and Jesus is the Reason for the Season paper. It only lasted a few years, but Kurt was there for them. He thought it more tasteless than not even back then, but now he was thinking his Aunt Mildred did it tastefully. The first problem was that it was just packed so full and nothing matched. The bright crayon colored circles proclaiming Jesus’s love and purpose would have been fine, alone or with the white nativity pieces. They didn’t look good with the neon stars that had different names of Christ or the nativity pieces that looked like they belonged in a circus (which were horrid anyway). The Jesse ornaments on it were just…not tastefully done. Perhaps if they had just been white ceramic they would have been fine, but these were white ceramic that had been poorly gold leafed…which made them tacky to start off with even if the gold leaf had been applied well. To top it all of…there were close to a dozen Christ on a Cross ornaments that had I’m Saved written on them…across Jesus’s chest. The lights on this three were neon colored…pink, green, yellow, blue…and flashed at such a high speed Kurt was worried for people visiting. His house now needed seizure warnings inside as well as out.

Kurt closed his eyes, hoping again that upon opening them his dining room would look normal.

It didn’t.

Having taken in the Christmas Trees on the table, he saw everything else. The table had runners on it under the tree…over a hideous Christmas table cloth. Runners…plural. None matched the ugly elf table cloth…some of which looked demonic…and none matched each other. The chairs were dressed up in those stupid slip covers that only look good done well…and at things like weddings. These weren’t done well and didn’t match at all. The stupid reindeer chair cover had antlers that Kurt assumed were supposed to stick up but which flopped backwards, the snowman looked half melted and like something out of a horror film and the less said about the two Santas, the better. Suffice to say, they clashed with each other and if Kurt never saw another Santa again, he’d be happy. The thought of a Santa looking like either was enough to keep Kurt from even wanting Santa gifts at all….no Santa gift means Santa didn’t come to his house. He couldn’t understand why anyone would buy them…and since they all had tags that were sticking out, someone had.

The walls were plastered with Christmas Prints…that again didn’t match or make sense together. The tacky Tinsel garlands criss-crossed the ceiling in the dining room as well, shedding down onto the floor and all over the table.

Kurt was terrified to look at the rest of the house. And depressed. Utterly depressed. He couldn’t believe he dad had told HIM no all these years and then let THIS happen. Unless maybe the reason his dad hadn’t answered anything was because they’d killed him…or tied him up somewhere.

He turned and walked further down the hall, pausing to look into the living. And concluded his thought that they had actually killed his dad and stuffed the body somewhere wasn’t as unlikely as it seemed.

The tree was in the middle of the room. The TV was blocked. The tree touched the ceiling and was quite wide as well. It was real, Kurt could tell by the mass amount of pine needles on the floor. And it was heavily flocked. The white powder stuff sat on many of the branches in piles. It was flocked so badly Kurt could see flocking on the furniture and when the heater kicked on the air movement made flocking dust float into the air. It was also covered in silver tinsel strands….the individual ones that got EVERYWHERE. And Kurt meant covered…every branch was draped with strands at least five inches in, it looked like it was melting. The air lifted those as well, and made them sway on the tree in a very nauseating manner. The only things on the tree were huge fake poinsettia flowers in every color imaginable and so heavily glittered the glitter they shed could be seen on every surface and the type of feathers that really only worked on Pirate hats, Victorian hats, and as pens at weddings, also dipped in glitter. The lights were all chasers, set on super speed, and the strands did not match…not bulb shape or color.

There were about twenty stockings hung on the mantle, all with Finn’s name on them…except two, labeled MOM and DAD. And they were all tacky…and huge. There were piles of gifts under the tree, most quite large and all, even from afar, clearly labeled FINN. Kurt was strongly reminded of Harry Potter and Dudley Dursley. There were hundreds of animated stuffed things in the room and so many throw pillows that one couldn’t actually sit in a chair anyway. And none matched. The shelves were overflowing with Christmas items stuffed on them…most ugly or just odd. His tasteful nativity wasn’t up anywhere in the room, nor were his candles or the angels they always had out. Even his dad’s display of antique toys wasn’t to be seen. Those had been put up at Christmas time in his dad’s family since his dad was four and his dad’s great-grandmother had given them to him to display for Christmas.

Kurt clenched his jaw and walked to the door to the basement. There was so much static that a bolt of electricity shot four inches to zap him from the handle.

Kurt closed his eyes and hoped that wasn’t an omen. He wondered where his dad was…or Carole or Finn for that matter.

Christmas music different than what was playing on the main floor blasted from down stairs. There were tinsel garlands hanging off the ceiling and handrail. And there were stands of jingle bells hanging down from the hand rail as well, so every step jingled.

“I told you I’m not going to some stupid party at the Fire Department. I refuse!” Finn shouted.

Kurt could hear the sounds from his video games blasting loudly enough to be heard over the Christmas Music.

Kurt stopped at the bottom of the stairs.

Nothing in the basement was as he left it. In fact nothing of his seemed to be there at all.

“Where’s my stuff?” Kurt asked.

“Why are you here?” Finn yelled back. “I’m calling your dad! I’m telling!”

“Ok. Where’s my stuff?”

“We got rid of it. Except from the closet, because it was locked and Burt wouldn’t let us break in. I wanted to just throw it all out because you know…you don’t live here…but Burt made us keep it all so mom rented a storage unit and we put it all there. She’s trying to convince Burt that it doesn’t belong here at all anymore and we need access to the closet too.”

“Of course I live here.”

“No you don’t, your dad moved you to the school and so you live there and aren’t supposed to return any more.”

“Do neither of you understand how boarding schools work? Not to mention, I only was boarding as full time as I was the last few weeks because of my work load the last several weeks was so huge. I’m all caught up now and unless your mom is forking over 10,000 bucks, I won’t be boarding.”

“You can’t live here. Mom promised it was all mine now. Even if your dad wouldn’t let me have the stuff of yours I want, she is supposed to make him give it to me by Christmas…so you can’t be here and you have to give me all your good stuff…like your computer and TV and shit. Mom promised. I’m calling Mom! I’m telling Burt….I’m telling him right now, how you are sneaking in here and harassing me! I will.”

“So, Dad and your mother are at the party at the fire department?” Kurt asked, glaring at Finn.

“Probably. It sounded dumb. I don’t see why I should go and help out stupid little kids. No, go back where you came from.”

Kurt turned and marched back up the stairs. Not without noticing that there was five Christmas trees filled with various forms of sports paraphernalia and hunting stuff scattered around the basement, all live and half nearly bare due to the lack of needles, which littered the floor and all bone dry. The floor was also covered with dirty clothes and towels, food in various forms of rot and empty food boxes, empty soda cans and… empty beer and wine bottles… and other smelly things.

He marched out past the horrid decorations to his SUV. He put his suitcases back into the vehicle and drove to the fire station. He got out and stomped into the party…over to the adult games area, which his father was usually in charge of. Carole wasn’t there. Fire Chief Michaels was though.

“Burt Hummel.” Kurt snapped.

Burt dropped the bowling ball he was retrieving to hand to the next person playing Bowling For Pop.

“Kurt…when did you get home?” Burt asked.

“Today. AFTER YOU DID NOT COME GET ME ON THE 17TH WHEN YOU WERE SUPPOSED TO BE THERE FOR PARENT’S DAY! I spent the days from the 17th to leaving time today working off demerit points for you missing it. Furthermore you have NOT answered any email or message left, or answered any calls from me and NOW you will be very sorry. I will not be able to board next semester. Because YOU couldn’t be bothered. I hope you have fun explaining that to your wife and new son, who shall be calling because I harassed him apparently by a) coming home and b) asking where all MY STUFF IS!”

Chief Michaels looked at Burt. “You forgot to go to Parent’s day at your kid’s school and forgot to check him out?”

“You got rid of all YOUR child’s stuff? Like what kind of stuff are we talking here?” Deputy Jones from the police department asked.

“All of it that I hadn’t locked in my closet. I have no bed, no dresser, my mother’s old vanity is gone, my TV and computer are missing, my sewing machine and everything!” Kurt said.

“I thought they left things be down there. Carole said she set Finn straight when he demanded the room cleared for his use.” Burt said.

“Yeah, well apparently not. Finn says they put it in a storage unit after you wouldn’t let them throw it out!” Kurt snapped. “Fix this! Fix this now, Dad. If it is NOT fixed by tomorrow, I will call YOUR Aunt Mildred. And fix the atrocity that our house has become. I am not kidding. I am taking photos, I am sending them to Aunt Mildred…I am sending them to Uncle Lou.”

“But Kurt, you don’t understand…”

“What? What don’t I understand?”

“Don’t you want Finn and Carole to be happy and feel welcome?” Burt asked.

“Finn and Carole can be happy and feel welcome without turning the house into a monstrosity and creating the biggest FIRE HAZAARD IN LIMA! Not to mention the biohazard that is now the basement! Things spark in there due to the static. And I’m surprised you haven’t been fined due to violation of any number of city ordinances…you know, the ones you always quoted to me when I asked for more lights than the strands along the roof.”

“But Carole said they always decorate big.” Burt said. “She said she would be crushed if she couldn’t decorate as much as she dreamed and that if she couldn’t decorate properly here then she’d have to go to her folks were it was properly decorated for the holidays. She so wanted to spend the holiday as a family, it would have upset her to have to leave to a properly decorated home.”

“And you bought that?” Kurt asked.

“She cried Kurt. She cried when I told her just one tree.”

“Yeah…I’m sure she did. I think you should check the accounting. I bet most is brand new. Except those horrid and tacky stockings…where is mine by the way?”

“Well. It upset Finn to have it, you know. And your gifts from me are at the garage because Finn only wants his under the tree…I told him yours would be under the tree for Christmas. Carole insisted she’d get him agree to it. He screamed and stomped off when I told him that.”

Fire Chief Michaels put his arm over Kurt’s shoulder. “Come on Kurt. I bet Santa has a treat for you, and I’ll set you up with a gift for the white elephant exchange and an ornament for the ornament exchange. There are playing bingo by the pole and we’re supposed to start a new round of name that tune in a few minutes. You always win at that. We’ve got some great prizes this year, too.”

He turned to Burt. “Burt, I’m with your kid on this. Fix it.”

“But Hal, you had a new wife. Surely you know how it is.” Burt said.

“I would have NEVER let Janice remove my kids’ stuff from our home. It is always home to ALL of us. And Cami had been off to college when I married Janice. Still wouldn’t let her get rid of Cami’s stuff until she’d moved into a place of her own and wasn’t living in dorms anymore. And then we asked. He’s your kid, Burt. He’s not all grown-up yet, he should still matter most.”

He turned Kurt away and started walking with him towards Santa.

“So tell me about the biohazard.” The chief said.

“Oh My God. Finn is so nasty. There is rotting food in my basement! On the floor! And stinky socks and underwear and loads of trash. I had it spotless over Thanksgiving. I thoroughly cleaned it after I got home from black Friday shopping and all Finn’s cousins were finally gone….”

Kurt watched his dad as he continued telling the Chief about the disaster that the house was in.

His dad was looking confused.

As Kurt was seeing Santa, the Chief headed back towards his dad and Deputy Jones.

Santa, otherwise known as Mr. Morrison, the owner of M&S grocers and farmers market, slipped Kurt an extra gift and told him to come back over when the night was over and he might slip Kurt more. He asked if Kurt was going to the old folks’ home, his dear mother would hate to miss him this year if he wasn’t. Kurt promised to be over the next day…minus cookies because he was certain his kitchen was not useable due to the amount of tinsel in the house. Kurt beamed when Mr. Morrison offered use of the store’s bakery and the company of Mrs. Morrison to help bake cookies for the old folks’ home.

Mrs. Michaels set Kurt up with items for the exchanges that would be happening soon and allowed Kurt to snatch up the set of wooden birds, one of which looked just like Pavarotti, in exchange for last minute mending to the nativity costumes. When he managed not just the hole in Joseph’s side seam and the tear in the shepherd’s robe where he stepped in it as his stood up, but also sufficient enough hemming on all the angels costumes so that no one tripped on them and ripped them, she also added the set of angel ornaments he looked at.

He won a Christmas candle, an old Reader’s Digest Christmas Treasury sheet music book that was still in near mint condition even though it was dated 1950, and a word puzzle book while playing name that tune, before he bowed out and let others have a chance to win. He won four bingos and picked out some fabulous snowflake cookies cutters, a stocking filled with crafting supplies (nice color pencils and drawing pencils, watercolor pencils, blenders and erasers, paint brushes, and a cute set of watercolors), a set of little tea lights that were battery powered, and an awesome winter themed throw that was very soft.

He won a set of cards that were Scooby-doo themed in the white elephant exchange and an owl ornament in the ornament exchange.

He also called around to find someplace to stay over that night. Jeff’s family lived near Liberty Hill Golf Club in Bellefontaine. It wasn’t quit an hour away and Jeff’s dad promised the snow had eased up and traffic would be fine. Their road was already plowed and clear. His mom would love to have Kurt for a day or two. Kurt told her it would be for the night at least, and maybe tomorrow night as well, but during the day he had a few commitments in Lima he needed to attend to, namely baking for the old folks’ home and a trip to the old folks’ home. After hearing Jeff’s mom go on about how sweet he was, Kurt thought he might even have company the next day…and wondered just how many siblings Jeff had.

Kurt told them he’d be there in about an hour and half. Then he went to find his dad again.

Burt was sitting at the table with the fire chief and Deputy Jones and Hank from the shop.

“Dad, I’m going to go stay at Jeff’s for the night. If things aren’t somewhat fixed by tomorrow afternoon when I am finished at the old folks’ home, I will stay there tomorrow night as well. Things will be fixed by then, as I will be at my home for Christmas. The basement will be cleaned and those trees removed, all the tinsel will be gone, the trees on the dining room table will be gone, and the tree in the living room will be removed of its tinsel, de-flocked as much as possible, and gone if it is too dry. Carole and Finn will be informed that they will be paying to fix the damage to the house since I know you were not stupid enough to do that. The music will not be there anymore…if any is there it will be ONE single song playing at a time. The music in the house will be quieter and tasteful, like you always made me play it when you relented and let me play anything, and something will be done with the Santa butts that are hanging out everywhere! I will also give you until tomorrow afternoon before I call Aunt Mildred. I’m going to stop by the house and grab a few things before heading out. So, yes, I was back at the house if Finn calls…no I will not be harassing him.”

“You saw the tree in the bathroom?” Burt asked.

“What tree in what bathroom?” Kurt said.

“Umm nevermind.”

“Dad….what tree?”

“The main floor bathroom has a tall thin tree in it that is covered with hot tub Santas and bathtub Santas and outhouse ornaments. They collect them. They have them from many states and all sorts open to show them being used by everything from Santa to moose to one that even had Jesus in it.”

“Excuse me?” Kurt said. “And they had the nerve to comment on my lack of religion.”

“Finn’s vacation bible sleep-away camp sold them.”

Kurt just shook his head.

“See you tomorrow Dad. I do love you, you know…but this is not OK.”

Kurt stopped by Santa to solidify his plans for the next day, and came away with two books he’d wanted to read and two more puzzles books and three heatable rice packs, two small scent candles, four Christmas scented lotions, and two textures washcloths…and a basket. Jeff’s mother would get a nice little spa basket as a thank you gift for letting him invade.

Kurt hit the house on his way out of town. He left his goodies in the car. He used his phone camera to take pictures of everything that horrified him. He even went in the bathroom and found the Jesus in the outhouse ornament and took special care to take a photo of that. He realized his dad hadn’t mentioned that there was also various naked Santa ornaments, with different type of hats placed so his privates wouldn’t be seen.

Several hundred photos later, Kurt decided enough was documented. He had gone downstairs and photographed the carnage that was his basement. Finn hadn’t even noticed as he had huge headphone on and the TV blasted enough louder than before. He was singing to something other than the Christmas song that was blaring away, so Kurt knew music was playing through his headphones as well. It was a wonder the idiot wasn’t deaf.

Kurt grabbed the old recipe books with the cookie recipes he always took to the old folks’ home in them and the emergency sleep kit from the garage, just in case he needed a sleeping bag or something. He stopped and bought himself fast food on the way out of town.

The snow was just slightly falling and the roads, though icy, were free of snow. The plows had been out. The drive was peaceful and nice. Kurt found a public radio station that was reading The Christmas Carol over the radio. He made great time and was to Jeff’s house within an hour.

Jeff’s house was huge. There were lit deer in the front, looking like they were eating at the base of one tall spiral light tree and a few smaller ones…all the same bright white lights. The house’s trim was lined with white lights, except the door, which was lined in green light. Several trees in the yard were light as well, properly lit and covered by the same lights. There was a single evergreen wreath on the front door. It had a large red bow on it.

Kurt took a moment to put together a small overnight pack, gathering the items he’d need from his luggage and putting them into his school bag. When he looked up again, Jeff was on his way down the front path to the drive to help him with anything. Jeff assured Kurt he didn’t need his emergency sleep kit, but his dad would love to hear about it when they got in. Kurt handed Jeff his bag when Jeff insisted on carrying something and carried in the gift basket for Jeff’s mom.

Jeff’s mom was as vivacious as Jeff and Jeff’s dad was delightful as well. His mom handed a hot cup of cocoa to Kurt nearly as soon as he stepped into the foyer.

Their Christmas tree…single… was huge as well, but it was against the wall and set off nearly in a corner of the room. It was covered with white lights that were steady and had a ribbon that wound from the top to the bottom…red and white candy cane striped. There were red and white balls…not glass yet because Jeff had little siblings who touched too much still…but mostly scattered tastefully about the tree were more random type ornaments that represented Jeff’s family. Jeff found his baby’s 1st Christmas ornament and then showed Kurt all seven others…with the triplets having the same ornament in different colors.

Kurt met the triplets, who were almost four, Joanne, who was 11 months older than Jeff and James who was 11 months younger. He found out that the other two, Kim and Karen, were significantly older than Joanne…and that Jeff’s dad was their step-dad. Both were married with kids of their own and would be descending upon the family on the 24th.

There was soft Christmas music playing in the background as the family talked and watched a movie. A scented candle burned in the kitchen, filling the air with a light evergreen scent.

Kurt looked around. There was a fireplace with stockings hung along the mantle, but these stockings were all denim with different colored plaid cuffs and heels and toes. Jeff told Kurt his grandmother made them for each kid…Karen’s kids were a darker denim and Kim’s kids were a very light denim, but they still matched. Each stocking had a pocket, like the back pocket of a pair of pants on the front and a letter sticking out of it.

They looked good against the mantle, and the evergreen garland that trimmed it. The evergreen garland had little plaid bows decorating it and pinecones and woodland critters.

A garland trimmed the top of the bookshelves as well.

There were Christmas throw pillows, that matched and were cute…and that matched the Christmas fleece blankets that draped over the back of the couch and chairs when not in use by people.

There were candles on the window sill, fake. However having watched one of the small ones tip them over no less then five times, well Kurt thought fake was probably the safest bet for maybe the next ten years.

Jeff’s house was blessedly free of tinsel.

After the movie Jeff’s parents sent everyone off to bed and Jeff showed Kurt the guestroom he could use.

It was decorated by Christmas’s bedding and a bow over the mirror on the dresser. There was a small Christmas Bear sitting on the dresser as well. It didn’t do anything.

“The other guestroom is more pink and had dolls on the dresser. I thought this might be better. There is one of those play and pack baby bed things under the bed, though, so be careful not to stub your toe. There is a bathroom through the door with the lever type handle. The door with the knob goes to the closet.”

“Thanks Jeff, you and your family are life savers. You’ve salvaged my whole day.”

“It’s been fun and I’m glad I could help. I can’t believe your family forgot you were coming home today.”

Kurt shrugged. “I guess maybe things have been busy at the garage…I don’t know. I didn’t ask.”

They chatted a bit longer, mostly about the garage and things Kurt did there and what types of cars they worked on. Jeff loved cars and motors of all sorts, so was thrilled to have someone with any interest in them as well to talk to. Before too long, though, Jeff’s mom came and hustled him off to his own room so Kurt could get some sleep.

Jeff’s mom ruffled his hair as she left, like she did Jeff’s. It was nice.

As Kurt crawled into bed, he couldn’t decide if he hoped his dad had fixed things by the next afternoon or if he hoped to be able to spend one more evening at Jeff’s, where he was more welcome than he was in his own house.

When he turned off the light he discovered one more holiday item in the room…a candle nightlight lit the room with a soft glow. He texted his Dad’s Aunt Mildred and asked if she knew a way to keep at Dalton past the quarter.

#glee fanfic #Kurt Hummel #hummelholidays

3 notes · View notes

junker-town · 5 years ago

Text

How sports is Seven Worlds, One Planet: Episode 7?

Christophe COURTEAU/Gamma-Rapho via Getty Images

David Attenborough’s new show is epic ... and sports.

We continue our extremely important mission to conduct a scene-by-scene review of the BBC’s new nature documentary, Seven Worlds, One Planet, in order to see how sports it is. We determined that Episode 1, which focused on Antarctica, was reasonably sports. Asia was very sports, as was South America. Australia was more drinking than sports, and both Europe and North America were extremely sports. Now it’s time to wrap things up with ...

Episode 7 Africa

Scene 1: Nutcracking

I don’t think we appreciate how important the invention of writing is. Not only does it allow you to transmit facts (as far as I know, bookkeeping was, more or less, its original use) writing also allows the transmission of culture across time and space. Without that, animals are left passing along knowledge through direct demonstration, generation by generation. The requirement for direct contact, as you might imagine, drastically slows down the spread of knowledge.

In the Congo, a chimpanzee mother is teaching her daughter how to crack a nut. This is a relatively delicate operation. It requires finding a suitable anvil, with a nook to prevent the nut rolling around. The hammer must be the correct hardness and weight. The mother chimp makes it look easy.

Not the Nutcracker you’re used to seeing during the festive season. #SevenWorldsOnePlanet pic.twitter.com/oRTMwYz91B

— BBC Earth (@BBCEarth) December 8, 2019

But this is the ease of experience. It can take up to a decade to master the skills required to reliably crack nuts, and the five-year-old has an idea of the basic mechanics and nothing more. Trial and error is the solution, and there’s plenty of error. She tries a pebble, a boulder and a stick, to no avail. Eventually she settles on the right answer: going back to mother and having her do it.

The little chimp is too young to be a millennial but these are some highly millennial vibes.

Aesthetics 6/10

Chimpanzees are pretty cool and there’s something beautiful about watching a child learning a new skill. Even if I was worried about the poor little chimp crushing her fingers the whole time.

Difficulty 6/10

I have gone through literally hundreds of hours of wilderness survival training, and would still definitely injure myself at least twice if you gave me a rock and told me to crack nuts with it. I’m pretty confident I could eventually eat it though.

Competitiveness 0/10

No contest.

Overall 12/30

Tools are sometimes used in sports, but do not, in and of themselves, constitute sports.

Scene 2: Cuckoo Catfish

Sometimes nature documentaries show me things that totally blow my mind. This is one of those times. Lake Tanganyika’s ecosystem is dominated by cichlids, which are some of fishkind’s best parents. That may seem like a low bar, but they’re actually not bad at it. Some of the more hardcore cichlids are mouth-breeders — after laying their eggs they take them into their mouths and let them develop in a safe place. Even after the eggs hatch, the young cichlids use their mothers’ mouths as a refuge.

Nature being nature, this creates an opportunity for some dastardliness. The cuckoo catfish, like its avian namesake, is a brood parasite. And while cuckoos parasitise nests, their catfish friends manage to get their hosts to raise the catfish’s fry inside their mouths. As the cichlids spawn, the catfish eat a few of the eggs and spawn themselves. Their eggs are ingested by the mother cichlid.

A few days later ...

Peek-a-boo! I see you! #SevenWorldsOnePlanet #Wasntexpectingit pic.twitter.com/WOkBJgnugv

— BBC Earth (@BBCEarth) December 8, 2019

Yep, that’s a baby catfish. And guess what it’s going to do to its adopted brothers and sisters?

Aesthetics 2/10

I’m really quite disturbed by those baby catfish coming out of that poor mother fish’s mouth.

Difficulty 8/10

A cuckoo waiting for birds to leave their nest so that they can sneak in and lay eggs is one thing. Pulling the same trick on a fish which uses its mouth as a nest is quite another.

Competitiveness 3/10

There’s not really much of a fight here. Once the catfish arrive the little cichlids are screwed.

Overall 13/30

Cuckoldry is also not sports.

Scene 3: Cheetah Brigade

In Kenya, a cheetah family hunts as a pack. Five-strong, they can bring down prey many times larger than would be possible for a lone cheetah, but with five mouths to feed they must also hunt much more often. Using scrub as cover, the gang tries to ambush a herd of topi.

Cheetah are the fastest land animals alive, but they’re not fast enough to overcome a head start of more than a few dozen feet. That means that, once out in the open, detection could ruin the hunt. That’s what happens here: the topi scatter, the cheetahs switch targets to a nearby herd of zebra, and one promptly gets bulldozed by an angry mare.

Botched hunts aren’t just individual, momentary failures. They set the entire savannah on high alert. If the grazers know predators are on the hunt, they’re much harder to ambush. The cheetahs you can see aren’t the ones that will get you.

Incredibly, the cheetah gang uses this to their advantage. Antelope possess merely an indifferent grasp of arithmetic, so they’re well not prepared to assess just how many cheetahs they need to be keeping an eye on. So the topi end up keeping a close watch on four of the cheetahs harmlessly parading in front of them.

In formation #SevenWorldsOnePlanet pic.twitter.com/qtRyRS7Ndg

— BBC Earth (@BBCEarth) December 8, 2019

The fifth? Well, that one is behind them and about to ... yeah. The topi run away from the ambush, but they’ve let the lead cheetah get too close. The four other cheetahs join the fray, and the gang can have a nice meal. Pretty clever.

Aesthetics 9/10

That running form is really something else. Cheetah hunts are special sequences.

Difficulty 10/10

The topi hunt is difficult enough — they’re fast and beefy critters — but the use of a decoy group to catch their attention while the trap is set really elevates the whole hunt. That takes a lot of careful thinking. Good work by the cheetahs here.

Competitiveness 9/10

It takes a gang of five cheetahs plotting carefully to bring down one topi, which makes this pretty well matched.

Overall 28/30

Obviously sports.

Scene 4: Vampire Birds

Big animals (and small animals, although theirs are mostly less obvious) come with parasites. Lots of parasites. This creates a niche for parasite-feeders, which is taken up on the African savannah by the oxpecker. These little birds are more than happy to keep any big animal as free as possible from ticks, lice, and whatever else they can find.

Keeping it chill, ignoring the little dude on my face.#SevenWorldsOnePlanet pic.twitter.com/c9mq8NlQmi

— BBC Earth (@BBCEarth) December 8, 2019

Oxpeckers will go pretty much wherever food is.

Not what we meant when we said leftovers were yum. #SevenWorldsOnePlanet #didntgetthememo pic.twitter.com/OK6UxPIie5

— BBC Earth (@BBCEarth) December 8, 2019

But while you might think that having oxpeckers around to clean you up sounds quite pleasant, there turns out to be a dark side to these otherwise benign little assholes. When they eat ticks, they also get a snack of the host animals blood — and they’re more than happy to cut out the middleman, if they can.

If an oxpecker finds an open wound, they’ll peck away at it, drinking blood and preventing the wound from healing. Hippos, territorial, aggressive and armed with dental sabres, are quite good at giving each other open wounds, and oxpeckers therefore are big fans of hippos.

The hippos try to dislodge their vampiric guests by splashing water on them, which fails to deter them. They also try a hippo special: the poop helicopter. No, I’m not embedding that gif. Don’t be gross.

Aesthetics 1/10

Every creature in this scene is pretty ugly, and then we get the hippo poop storm. Why!?

Difficulty 10/10

Being a hippo-annoyer sounds like just about the most dangerous job in the world.

Competitiveness 10/10

An oxpecker against a hippo is like David vs. Goliath except also Goliath throws his poop at people.

Overall 21/30

Disgusting sports, but sports.

Scene 5: Desert Hyena

youtube

In the Namib, an abandoned mining town still has one reclusive inhabitant. A brown hyena ghosts through the broken-down buildings, using them as shade against the desert sun. And she’s not quite alone. Her twin cubs await her in their lair, four months old and hungry. The mother hyena needs to bring back some meat.

While a dead town might provide good shelter, it’s not much of a hunting ground. The Namib itself isn’t much of a hunting ground either. It is something like the oldest desert in the world, bedecked by endless dunes of sand, blasted by the tropical sun and wind. How can there be enough food to support predators of any kind?

The answer lies with the Benguela Current, off Africa’s western coast. The Benguela brings up cold, Antarctic waters, which are nutrient rich and capable of supporting a vast quantity of marine life. Some of that marine life comes to the shore.

The shore is exactly where the mother hyena is heading. Fur seals congregate here, and she’s able to pick off a baby seal and flee back towards the dunes. She’s not the only one who wants possession of her kill however; and she has to face down a jackal pack to return her prize to her family.

Aesthetics 10/10

Everything about this scene is wonderfully dystopian. Brown hyenas are also surprisingly pretty animals, with long shaggy hair which looks extremely snuggly.

Difficulty 8/10

Killing a baby seal is obviously rather trivial, but making the trek back and forth from the desert lair in scorching heat is not.

Competitiveness 10/10

The jackal pack’s late intervention really makes this scene. Five jackals against one hyena trying to bring food back to her cubs makes this very interesting indeed.

Overall 28/30

It’s official: killing baby seals is sports. If you’re a brown hyena and live in the desert. Otherwise it’s just being an asshole.

Scene 6: Termite Quest

The Kalahari, adjoining the Namib, is slightly less hostile ground. Here there is some food, if you know where to look. A lot of it is underground, in the burrows where termites make their homes. Getting in there requires some specialist tools. Some of those tools belong to the pangolin.

Licking the plate ‍♂️#SevenWorldsOnePlanet pic.twitter.com/0008zwp4kd

— BBC Earth (@BBCEarth) December 8, 2019

With an acute sense of smell to detect their prey and strong, claw-tipped front legs to dig them out, pangolins are specialist insectivores. (The protective scales probably don’t help them as much with their food, but they’re also pretty neat so I am listing them as well.) When a pangolin cracks upon a termite nest, that gives other critters, like small birds, a chance to get in on the action too.

But a pangolin can’t go properly underground, so they can only really scratch the surface of termiteville. Getting to the good bits requires an even more specialised termite-hunter. Say hello to the aardvark.

The aardvark is the world’s largest burrowing animal.#SevenWorldsOnePlanet pic.twitter.com/ySB7DNgxaK

— BBC Earth (@BBCEarth) December 8, 2019

Aardvarks are big, hungry and more than capable of digging to depths of ten feet or so, enough to root out even the most well-protected termite colony. They need to be, as well — an aardvark needs to eat tens of thousands of termites a day. Climate change, however, is impacting the Kalihari’s aardvarks. Droughts have reduced termite numbers, and that has placed their predators on the verge of starvation.

Aesthetics 10/10

Pangolins are objectively some of the coolest creatures on the planet and I enjoy watching them very much.

Difficulty 8/10

You try digging ten feet down with your bare hands and get back to me.

Competitiveness 2/10

It’s not shown here but soldier termites are capable of giving some pretty impressive bites, even if they’re outgunned by the pangolin and aardvark.

Overall 20/30

Probably sports.

Scene 7: Elephants

An adult bull elephant needs to eat something like 200 lbs of food per day. That would be difficult enough in times of plenty, but during droughts, when there’s little food to be had, they have to get inventive.

There is still food about, in the dried-out forests of Zimbabwe, but it’s hard to get to. Trees are producing seed pods, but they do so up on their highest branches, well out of reach of even the elephants. Packed with protein, these pods are good eating. But how to get them?

Some elephants have learned a good trick — albeit one that requires incredible strength and balance:

“He weighs over 5 tonnes. This is a truly monumental effort.”#SevenWorldsOnePlanet pic.twitter.com/6xBohrr3KO

— BBC Earth (@BBCEarth) December 8, 2019

That is some impressive stretching.

Aesthetics 8/10

Elephants are cute, but the parched forest doesn’t really do them justice compared to more verdant shots.

Difficulty 10/10

That’s a five-tonne elephant rearing back onto its hind legs. What? How?

Competitiveness 0/10

It’s not shown here but soldier termites are capable of giving some pretty impressive bites, even if they’re outgunned by the pangolin and aardvark.

Overall 18/30

Difficult enough to be a de facto sport.

Scene 8: Well This Is Depressing

To close out the series (this is our last scene!), BBC takes us on a tour of what’s going wrong with the planet. Climate change is already impacting every continent on earth. Habitat destruction is causing animal numbers to plummet. Poaching has all but wiped out some of Africa’s most majestic creatures. We are, in many ways, killing the rest of the world.

This is not merely an aesthetic question or one of being morally good versus morally not. Ultimately this is a world we all rely on, and we are contributing to its sickness. As the climate crisis deepens — climate change has been settled science since before I was born, incidentally — we will not only impact the animals showcased in this series but also deepen crises that materially affect our own communities.

Cities are starting to get close to running out of water and crop failures look increasingly likely. Sea level rise, caused by melting ice sheets on Greenland and Antarctica, will render coastal communities increasingly vulnerable to flooding. We’re already in the shit and nowhere near the worst of it.

It is our collective responsibility to mitigate this crisis as best we can. We must dismantle the structures which have allowed this to happen without consequences. We must accept that personal choice alone can’t save us in the face of rapacious behaviour from corporations. We must force our governments to confront the problem head on.

And we must also hold those responsible to account. For generations, fossil fuel companies have suppressed scientific knowledge about the damage they have been engineering and spreading misinformation instead, all in the name of profit. This is a crime against the rest of humanity, and the decision-makers involved then (and involved now) must be prosecuted and made to repay society.

The crisis is here and we cannot avert it. But there is hope nonetheless. We can lessen the damage it will do by mobilising to de-carbonise the economy, to move away from waste and greed and destruction in the name of “growth”. Mitigation now will save our children and our children’s children from the real brunt of the storm. We live in depressing times, but we ought never to forget that something can be done about them.

A better world is possible, and it is up to us to build it. Will it be hard? Obviously. Is it the only way? Yes.

0 notes