#Christmas snippet 2024

[hufflepuffwritingstuff2]

Christmas Snippet 2024

Merry Christmas everyone! Here's a present for you!

Villain was just about to open their next present when the doorbell rang. The chatter and laughter from the team died down. Who could that possibly be?

“Maybe it’s Christmas carolers?” Sidekick asked.

“At our base?” Supervillain asked, “unlikely.”

The doorbell rang again, followed by weak yet persistent knocking.

“I’ll get it,” Villain said, setting their parcel down.

They headed to the foyer and opened the front door. They stood frozen in shock for a few minutes.

“Well, Villain? Who is it?” Henchman called.

Villain took a minute to find the words. In front of them stood their very own nemesis, Hero, shaking in their hero suit and staring up at them with big, sad eyes.

“I um… I didn’t know where else to go,” Hero said quietly.

Villain blinked. They had never seen Hero like this before, all pathetic and so terribly small. And injured, they noted, as bloody patches on their suit grew wider and redder.

“Villain, come on,” Supervillain put a hand on their shoulder, “who is- oh!”

“S-sorry,” Hero chattered, “I can leave, I didn’t know you were having a party.”

Hero choked on a sob at that last part, as though the very idea of parties was traumatic to them.

“Come inside,” Supervillain said.

Villain opened the door wider for them, holding an arm out should Hero need steadying. It turned out that they did; they were just over the threshold when they collapsed into Villain.

Villain half-carried Hero inside, setting them down in their armchair that they had been sitting in just minutes before.

“I-I’m staining your furniture-” Hero protested.

“Meh, it adds to our aesthetic,” Sidekick said dismissively.

Henchman draped Hero in a blanket and handed them a mug of hot cocoa.

“Do you want to talk about it?” Villain asked gently.

Hero shook their head, tears forming in their eyes.

“It just, it hasn’t been a very good Christmas,” they said quietly.

They did start sobbing at that, their tears making little ripples in their drink. Supervillain took the mug and set it on the side table. After a while, Hero sniffled.

“Can you tell us who did this to you?” Henchman asked.

Hero wouldn’t meet anyone’s gaze. Hesitantly, they nodded.

“My team,” they said.

The criminals exchanged quick, bewildered glances with each other.

“Your team?” Supervillain asked, “why would they-”

“Said I was making us look bad. Everyone else has impressive powers and then there’s me who’s only good for ‘whipping up homemade popsicles.’”

Villain’s hands curled into fists, but they tried to contain their anger for Hero’s sake.

“They d-did all this,” Hero gestured to their wounds, “then said not to come back.”

Hero put their head in their hands and started crying once more. Sidekick put a hand on their shoulder in an attempt to comfort them.

“I don’t know what I’m supposed to do with their Christmas presents now,” Hero said.

“They don’t deserve-” Henchman started to growl.

Supervillain held a hand up.

“Well, you know, Christmas isn’t over yet,” they said, “would you like to celebrate with us?”

Hero looked up.

“We can have a room made up for you just how you like it,” Supervillain offered, “you won’t be alone, and you can stay indefinitely, or for however long as you feel comfortable.”

“But I’m not a-” Hero started, “I can’t do what you all- I’m not a villain.”

“So what?” Villain said, “we could all use a moral compass, you’d be our live-in hero!”

“You don’t have to answer right now,” Supervillain said, “how about we get you patched up and go from there?”

Hero looked taken aback, as though kindness from others had eluded them all their life.

“Yes please,” they said.

…

It was well into the evening when Hero started showing off their favorite party trick- making it snow indoors. Sidekick tried to catch snowflakes on their tongue while Henchman brought in a tray of cookies. Supervillain added a few flames to the fire with their powers.

“Where did Villain go? They’re missing the snow!” Sidekick said.

“Right here!” Villain answered, coming inside with a present.

They set it down on Hero’s lap. Hero blinked, then looked up at them with wide eyes.

“You didn’t have to do this!” they said.

“Oh I think I did,” Villain smiled.

Hero tore at the wrapping paper and opened the box underneath. They stared slack-jawed at the gift inside. A fleece, weighted blanket with snowflakes scattered across the fabric.

“I hope it’s okay I kinda ran with the superpower theme,” Villain said nervously, “but I know you get cold faster than anyone, and the weight helps with anxiety and- oh!”

Hero had jumped up and hugged Villain as tightly as their stitches would allow. Villain hugged them back.

“I love it, thank you,” Hero said, squeezing tighter.

“Yep,” Villain choked out, “can’t breathe.”

Hero finally released them, beaming widely.

“Hey, look!” Sidekick pointed to the ceiling.

The pair looked up at the mistletoe dangling over them.

“Oh, Villain, you don’t have to if you don’t want to-”

Hero was cut off by Villain’s lips pressing gently against theirs. Hero had never felt this close to melting before.

Henchman and Supervillain cooed, clapping soflty. Sidekick stuck their tongue out, regretting that they had pointed the plant out.

“Merry Christmas, Hero,” Villain said.

Hero smiled, the sparkle back in their eyes.

“Merry Christmas, Villain.”

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Tags: @mythixmagic @infinityshadows @fishtale88 @thelazywitchphotographer @the-beasts-have-arrived @princessofonwardsworld @surplus-of-sarcasm @memepsychowhowantsuperpower-blog @electrons2006 @just-a-space-rabbit @telltaletoad @bacillusinfection @noseyowes

[writerfae]

Christmas movie AU Advent Calendar 🎄

Day Six: 🧣Scarf🧣

Christmas special tag list: @bunnymermaidsblog @deadlycupid @dustylovelyrun @ladywithalamp @sleepy-night-child @theguywithnonickname

“Are you sure you’re okay? That looked like it hurt.”

Yes, Talon was okay.

Physically that is.

The only thing that took damage from his very ungracious collision with the Christmas tree was his pride.

“I’m fine, really.” He waved his hand in a dismissive manner. “You should probably worry more about the Christmas tree.”

Maybe he shouldn’t have come here.

Maybe this was a sign for what a bad idea this all was.

A warning to stay away from the Christmas tree farm.

Talon would love to do that, but then he’d probably get fired. Son of the boss or not.

“Pine trees are sturdy, it’ll be fine,” Aiden said, patting the tree’s bark.

“They’re resistant. Your pretty little city boy face however… I’m not too sure about that.”

Didn’t Talon embarrass himself enough already today?

Did Aiden have to give him even more reasons for his face to light up like Christmas lights?

That much for being professional.

If anyone else had seen him running headfirst into a Christmas tree because he kept staring at Aiden, that would’ve surely destroyed his chances from being taken serious.

“You’re really red in the face,” Aiden commented.

Talon wanted to strangle him.

“You should come inside, it’s warmer there.”

The barely hidden grin on the other’s face made Talon think that Aiden knew very well that the red of his face was from different nature.

But either he was too nice to mention it or he kept it as teasing material for later.

As he followed Aiden all the way to what looked like it was the main house, he noticed that no one else was there.

Shouldn’t a Christmas tree farm like this have more workers?

“Where are the other workers?” he passed his question on to Aiden.

The face Aiden made to this was very different from his usual smile, it looked a little grim, which was something Talon hadn’t seen before.

“We are a little low on money lately,” he admitted.

“So we couldn’t really afford helpers this year. There’s Theo and Mathilda who help us out a little, but today they have to work at their father’s. And Holly and Hazel are both sick at home, so it’s just me.”

That was strange.

“And what about Mr. Hunter? Isn’t he helping?”

Aiden froze, but only for a second before regaining his composure.

“He can’t help,” he said even more quietly.

“Not anymore.”

Before Talon could ask what exactly he meant by that, they reached the porch of the house.

Aiden got a key out of his pocket and opened the door, signaling Talon that he should come inside.

“Father? I’m home! And I brought a guest!” Aiden called.

Talon stopped dead in his tracks.

Father?

He followed Aiden into the living room - and wanted to leave immediately.

There in an armchair sat a man who looked like an older version of Aiden.

His hair was curlier and his face not clean-shaven, but the similarities were undeniable.

Aiden stepped behind the armchair, putting his hands on the man’s shoulders.

“Talon, this is Milan Hunter, my dad.”

He smiled down at the man, squeezing his shoulders lightly, before looking back at Talon.

“And dad, this is Talon, a friend.”

And just like that, it all clicked into place and Talon’s world came crashing down.

Of course. How could he have been so stupid.

Mr. Hunter had a son. Two sons, to be exact.

He had read it in the report. He had known and yet he’d been too blind to see.

Maybe he didn’t want to see.

But it all made so much sense now. And it was absolutely horrible.

It was Aiden’s family that the farm belonged to. It was Aiden’s family Talon was send to to talk them into giving up their farm for some rich asshole’s stupid resort.

Giving up their home, their whole life.

My family has always been part of this town, for generations, Aiden had said.

He couldn’t take this away from them. What was he supposed to do now?

“Are you okay?” Aiden asked him for what felt like the tenth time today.

Talon cleared his throat, he couldn’t let Aiden know about the storm raging in him right now.

He smiled. “Yeah, I was just thinking how cozy it looks in here.”

You liar, he scolded himself. All you do is lie to Aiden.

Shaking that thought off, Talon went over to offer Aiden’s father his hand.

“Nice to meet you, Sir.”

Mr. Hunter’s grip was strong but gentle. “Nice to meet you, too.”

He smiled, but it didn’t reach his eyes. In general he looked a little absentmindedly. His eyes, deep brown like Aiden’s, were dull, as if a haze lay over them.

Aiden looked at his father fondly, brushing back a strand of his hair for him.

“I know you’re tired today, so we won’t bother you for too long, I just wanted you to meet.”

He kissed the back of his father’s head and Talon was very close to either run or fall to his knees, admit to his true motive about being here and maybe ask for forgiveness while he’s already at it.

Luckily, before he could do either of those things, Aiden lead him into the kitchen.

Talon watched him in silence as he made tea for them.

“Your father…” was all he could say before his voice gave out.

He didn’t know if it was his place to ask. But Aiden gave him an answer anyway.

“A couple years ago, he had a car accident. Things went downhill from there. Physically, mentally,” he paused, before quietly adding.

“Financially.”

He served the tea and they drank it in relative silence.

When they were done, Aiden looked over to him and smiled.

It wasn’t as happy as his usual smile, but his mood seemed at least a little better.

“Hey,” he said. “Have you warmed up enough now?”

Talon nodded.

“Then how about I give you a tour through the farm? You said you wanted to see it, right?”

Yes, he wanted to. That was why he was here.

But now the thought made him a little nauseous.

Still, the longer Talon was in this house, the more guilty he felt and Aiden was clueless about his original motive anyway, so he agreed.

They got dressed and Talon already wanted to leave the house but Aiden stopped him.

“Wait,” he grabbed an extra scarf from the wardrobe and with a quick motion wrapped it around a surprised Talon’s neck.

He smiled as he looked at Talon then and Talon was glad to recognize it as one of his normal smiles, the one that made him feel all warm.

“I’ve been watching this for long enough now, can’t have you freeze to death this close before Christmas.”

Talon smiled. He buried his nose into the soft warm cloth of the scarf.

It smelled like Aiden.

“Thank you,” he said.

And he was thankful, but deep down he thought to himself that he didn’t deserve this.

He didn’t deserve this at all.

[holylulusworld]

Kinktober vs Flufftober 2024

Like in 2019, 2020, 2021, 2022, and 2023, I will post a kinky, fluffy, angsty or scary one-shot from October 1st till October 31st, 2024.

Please consider none of the stories are available until the set release date. Titles may change (all titles are working titles until the release date.). The release date may change at any time.

ANGST/SMUT/FLUFF

October 1st: Forbidden Lust (3) sequel to Forbidden Lust & Forbidden Lust (2)

Pairing: CEO!Bucky Barnes x fem!Reader

Kink: Homewrecker kink

October 2nd: How deep is your love? sequel to Deepest love

Pairing: Dean Winchester x fem!Reader

Trope: Friends to lovers

Idea by: @elle14-blog1

October 3rd: Extreme tight places sequel to Cramped & Tight places & Very tight places

Pairing: Soulless!Sam x fem!Reader

Kink: Anal sex

October 4th: Colorful leaves sequel to Falling leaves

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader

Trope: Sunny vs grumpy

October 5th: Serve your Soldier (2) sequel to Serve your Soldier

Pairing: Soldier Boy x fem!Reader

Kink: Collars

October 6th: Snuggle and cuddle sequel to Snuggle time

Pairing: Lee Bodecker x Plussized!Reader

Trope: Huddling for warmth

October 7th: Good girls punch hard (1)

Pairing: Raymond Smith x fem!Reader

Kink: Lust at first sight

October 8th: A new life sequel to One autumn night

Pairing: Alpha!Dean Winchester x Omega!Reader

Trope: Nesting (a/b/o)

October 9th: The peach (2) sequel to The Peach

Pairing: Lloyd Hansen x Girlfriend!Reader

Kink: Spanking

October 10th: My car again? sequel to Not in my car

Pairing: Sam Winchester x fem!Reader

Trope: Cuddling & Snuggling

Requested by: @dawn-petrichor-world

October 11th: Breathlessness sequel to Breathless & Take My Breath Away

Pairing: CEO!Bucky Barnes x fem!Reader

Kink: Boss kink

October 12th: Death or date?

Pairing: Lloyd Hansen x fem!Reader

Trope/Kink: Enemies to lovers

October 13th: Pour me some love (1)

Pairing: Biker!Dean Winchester x Plussized!Reader

Trope: Love at first sight

Idea by: @elle14-blog1

October 14th: Ashtray (2) sequel to Ashtray

Pairing: Jax Teller x fem!Reader

Kink: angry sex

October 15th: My lawn, my rules sequel to Get off my lawn

Pairing: Alpha (Teacher) Bucky Barnes x Omega (Teacher) Reader

Trope: Mating

October 16th: Howl like a wolf (Prologue)

Pairing: Alpha!Anders Lassen x Omega!Reader

Kink: a/b/o

October 17th: Bucky & Ducky (1)

Pairing: Mobster!Bucky Barnes x fem!Reader

Side-pairing: Bucky x Ducky the duck

Trope: Best buddies

Idea by: @buckys-wintersoldier

October 18th: Pipsqueak & Grumpy (2) sequel to Pipsqueak & Grumpy

Pairing: Wolverine/Logan Howlett x Chubby(Short)!Reader

Trope: TBA

October 19th: Torn in two

Pairing: Mobster!Steve Rogers x fem!Reader

Trope: Unrequited Love

October 20th: Sweater weather sequel to Christmas Sweater

Pairing: Ransom Drysdale x fem!Reader

Trope: Sweater weather

October 21st: The cabin in the woods (2) sequel to The cabin in the woods

Pairing: Winter Soldier x fem!Reader

Trope: Captivity

October 22nd: Lunchtime Delight

Pairing: Beau Arlen x Girlfriend!Reader

Kink: Edging

Idea: by @elle14-blog1

October 23rd: My annoying sexy neighbor (2) sequel to My annoying sexy neighbor

Pairing: Neighbor!Bucky Barnes x fem!Reader

Kink: Semi-public sex

October 24th: Parallel Worlds (1)

Pairing: Negan Smith (TWD) x fem!Reader x John Winchester (SPN)

Trope: Daddy kink

October 25th: Unwanted mate (2) Bucky's version sequel to Unwanted Mate (Bucky's version)

Pairing: Alpha!Stucky x Omega!Reader

Trope: Triade

October 26th: Up his sleeve

Pairing: Mobster!Bucky Barnes x fem!Reader

Kink: Hand kink

Idea by: @buckys-wintersoldier

October 27th: Breakfast for...

Pairing: Lloyd Hansen x Wife!Reader

Kink: TBA

October 28th: Their bride (Snippet 1) sequel to Best bridesmaid ever

Pairing: fem!Reader x Nick Fowler, Ari Levinson, Lloyd Hansen, Bucky Barnes, Steve Rogers

Trope: Post-Coitus moment

October 29th: His Bride (Prologue)

Pairing: Vampire!Bucky Barnes x fem!Reader

Trope: Vampire AU

October 30th: Bound Tight

Pairing: Gus March-Philipps x fem!Reader x Anders Lassen

Kink: Ropes

Halloween Specials: ANGST/SMUT/HORROR

October 31st: His little red riding hood sequel to Little Red Riding hood lost in the woods

Pairing: (Alpha) Werewolf!Bucky Barnes x Omega!Reader (LittleRedRidingHood)

Trope: Monster-fucking

Find all other Bingos and Special Events here: Special Events

[cloversnstrawberries]

will you do platonic yandere alastor x teen reader for the “refusal/acceptance” prompt? like the teen reader was kidnapped by him and refused to accept him as their father but as time goes on he manipulates them into accepting him.

"refusal / acceptance" plantonic!yandere!alastor & teen!gn!reader ! !

[2024 christmas/holiday event, entry 3]

event post ! | event masterlist !

description; When you fell to hell, you hadn't expected yourself to make it this long. 5 years wasn't very much at all to most sinners, but to the younger ones-- it was a massive milestone, you included. However, your relatively peaceful (as peaceful as it could get in hell...) existence was abruptly interrupted by your own curiosity getting the better of you.

Really, you shouldn't have poked around the house you'd basically been squatting in for the past 5 years like you were, all it could lead to was trouble, and you should've known that.

additional notes; the first part is very focused on the reader themself/the mysteriously unoccupied and very nice house they found after first falling, but i promise you alastor does show up and is very much his usual overprotective self :D

warnings; Kidnapping, vague possessiveness, overprotectiveness, imprisonment, entrapment, Reader is convinced Alastor wants to kill them, brief/vague mentions of violence, murder, torture, etc etc, Reader has trust issues (for a good reason, it is alastor we're talking about), manipulation, and if i missed any others, please let me know!!!

w/c; 5.5k (oh lord)

You aren't sure how long you've been here, isolated with The Radio Demon in some messed-up pocket dimension(?).

In all honesty, you don't know what you did to deserve this. To catch his interest like this, and by god you don't know how the hell you've been keeping it.

Both in life and death, you knew many people like The Radio Demon-- you knew how they operated, the ins and outs of what their main goal was. For some, they prioritized wealth, and others prioritized power above all else--

You've come to the very clear conclusion that the Radio Demon prioritizes his own amusement above anything else in the world. Yes, he most definitely has a thing for power (as all Overlords do, it's practically a requirement for the position), but that's certainly not his intentions with you.

Being a younger sinner wasn't necessarily rare-- it was hard to come by them, yes, but that's because they're usually snuffed out before they could even get a look around the place.

It's a wonder you've made it this far, five years wasn't much in the eyes of Sinners like Alastor, but to you-- it was far beyond how long you'd expected yourself to make it.

The Exterminators that come down each year-- they target the younger ones, the vulnerable. On more than one occasion, people have claimed they heard Adam, the leader of the Exterminators, proclaim "Oh, I just love killing the small ones!"

Not very holy in your humble opinion, but that opinion was not asked of you; so you'd never shared it to anyone but yourself.

Dying at the hands of other sinners wasn't uncommon for the younger ones either, obviously-- which is why you were (understandably) a bit of a hermit.

This is, ironically, how you encountered and was promptly swiped up by no other but the Radio Demon himself. You never interacted with others much, but you'd still heard tales of him-- little snippets of conversations as you did your monthly grocery shopping. One of the few times you'd ever leave your little shoddy cottage on the outskirts of Pentagram City.

You were always a very curious person-- cautious, so you'd keep your curiousity to yourself. Let yourself silently mull over information, but forcing yourself from never seeking any more than you could passively pick up.

But this one time-- God, you really don't know why you did it. Perhaps you were getting bored with it all, with the monotony of your afterlife; always on edge, even in your own 'home'.

This cottage you lived in was abandoned once you found it, just a few days after you'd fallen into hell. It was close to the field you'd woken up in after dying, and you'd curled up on the cold, scratched up wooden floor and slept for the first time in Hell.

Ever since, you'd claimed the place as your own. The first few months-- scratch that, the first few years, you were always on edge, expecting its true owner to come crawling back-- and slaughter you, who by all means was a squatter, simple as that.

You didn't mess with the items much, and you stuck only to where you needed. The bathroom, the kitchen, and the living room-- where you'd set up shop, claiming it as your bedroom.

Only recently had you begun exploring the other rooms. The kitchen was simple, having an icebox and a gas stove; besides the archway was an apron hanging on a hook that read "Don't kiss the cook". You'd snickered when you first noticed it.

You never used it, you only used what you had to-- never rearranging, never touching what wasn't absolutely necessary to your survival. Forever in fear of if-- or when, the original owner returned.

A few months ago, after residing in this cottage for so long, you came to the conclusion that owner probably was never coming back. They'd most like died in an extermination-- when you'd first discovered the house, it already had a light covering of dust over all the objects.

And yet, nothing looked out of place. Nothing stolen, nothing broken. That's what put you on edge, making you certain for so long that the owner would come back and rip you to shreds.

You started small, looking and eventually locating an unassuming hall closet in search of cleaning supplies. You pulled a duster out, a wooden handle with a metal bit attaching the real feathers on the end-- it was ornate, in your eyes, because you were so used to having a duster made of synthetic fibers. It looked quite old, but that fit with the rest of the house.

You pulled it out and began dusting-- once you were done, you were surprised by how much nicer the place looked by then. You turned the feather duster back to its home in the closet, still careful about disturbing anything else.

A few days later, you took a mop and cleaned the floor of the living room and kitchen.

The next day, you cleaned and reorganized the bathroom, but didn't dare throw away anything.

Then, a week later, you finally removed those mounted heads of various cervines, stashing them in a corner of the living room. Out of sight and out of mind, no longer looming over you as you slept on the cushy sofa every night.

Your boldest move by that point-- but after that, it was like a gateway had been opened. No longer so nervous, you moved furniture around; inspected all the cabinets of the bathroom and kitchen, looked through the large oak armoire standing by the entrance.

In it, you found a few coats, an umbrella, a couple hats that hadn't been in style for decades, maybe even nearing a century-- and a few bits and bobs a like. One thing in particular caught your eye-- a coat made in beautiful earth-toned colors, with jewel-red accents as well.

You took it out, and began wearing it around your house.

In the following months, you'd branched out into a few other rooms-- no longer sleeping in the living room, you settled down in what you assume to have been a guest bedroom. It was plain, with a queen-sized mattress held up by a metal wire frame.

It was done up in blues, and it looked like it'd been rampaged through when you first entered. Slate blue covers ripped off the bed, drawers pulled from the dresser-- spilling its contents all over the floor; and a 1950s CRT TV on the floor, a hole running right through the screen and out the casing. The glass of it was still strewn about the floor.

You cleaned it up with careful hands, and took the broken TV to sit beside the mounted stag heads in the corner of the living room.

A few more changes-- you found a storage room, stacked high with neatly folded clothes; hunting gear, and various different items from a bygone eras, along with dozens and dozens of boxes-- most, if not all, were labelled in some shape or form. You placed the TV and mounts in there, not having the heart throw anything away. You'd even kept the glasses pieces, placing them in a Tupperware you'd discovered in a particularly dusty cabinet in the kitchen.

One night, you'd grown bored again-- a terrible thing to be in a place like this, something you both did and did not consider your own. But, you'd ventured into the storage room regardless; careful of the items piled high, you pulled out a random cardboard box from the top of one of the less precarious towers of stuff.

In neat, swooping cursive; it was cryptically labelled "Cherished Belongings". Against your better judgement, you pried the top open--

Inside were a few radios, far more modern than the rest of the cottage appeared to be. Deep gouges were in the side of some, but the marks didn't dig deep enough to make it unable to be used.

A stack of letters you didn't dare touch, feeling like it'd be going too far to look into the private affairs of your home's previous owner-- a couple small boxes, that once you opened revealed little knick knacks that reminded you of your great-grandmother.

She had a farmhouse out in the country, and every time you'd visit her when you were young and she was still alive, you were always so enamored by the little trinkets placed all over a wooden shelf hanging above a corner-countertop.

They were delicate, bisque porcelain and well maintained. Your grandmother had a thing for rabbits and birds, many of those trinkets being one of those two things;

In the box, wrapped oh-so delicately in bubble wrap, were three tiny bisque porcelain deers. By the looks of their make and paint job, you guessed they were from the 50s or 60s.

You set them aside, along with the other boxes like them (though, you didn't open those yet. you wanted to explore the big box in its entirety before delving into the details), and explored the box a little more.

You found a beautiful Cathedral radio, from the brand Philco-- it was at the bottom, obviously an antique model. It appeared to be a custom, made of red wood and brass accents; it was polished to perfection, obviously a treasured item to the person who lived here before you did.

You pulled it out, and then closed up the box. You didn't place it back on its tower, as there was still more you could dig through in the large box; you took your findings to the living room, and set them carefully down on the accent table near the sofa.

You opened the rest of the little boxes, and placed the little figurines all around the kitchen, a few in the living room as well. Once you were satisfied, you sat down on the couch and began fiddling with the radio.

When it buzzed to life, it was already on a station. It was playing... swing music, you think it is-- you weren't too sure, since you weren't incredibly familiar with that era of music.

You tried turning the knob, but it always managed to come back to the same exact station. A second or two of static as you moved the knob, a spark of hope-- before it was quickly dashed as you were redirected right back to the same station.

Still, some music was better than none-- you'd found yourself going stir crazy without much background noise, save for the woods outside and the occasional animal prancing around; so this find was actually quite nice, you'd thought.

Until the song ended abruptly-- you thought it might've been a technical error of some kind, interference on your end. Until, right as the song stopped midway through a word, a talking segment began.

The show host was directly addressing you. And in that moment, you knew that you were done for-- one you heard that voice, everything started to make so, so much sense.

"My oh my, it seems like we have a special listener!" He'd started out, and it felt like there was somebody watching you. Hair on the back of your neck stood immediately, skin crawling as you nearly dropped the radio in fear-- your hands having grown clammy and trembling.

Laughter, cruel and mocking-- as you fumbled with the radio "Ah ah ah, don't drop it! That is quite priceless to me, you little thief."

Your heart dropped to your stomach, and in a moment of haste, you haphazardly tossed the radio onto the sofa-- not doing it too hard, making sure not to damage it in the meanwhile-- and quickly stood, ready to get the hell out of dodge.

Something grabbed at your ankle, and you shrieked-- a shadowed, clawed hand was coming out from the ground. Its nails dug through the cheap material of your pajama pants, and you toppled over; wincing as you landed directly on your tailbone.

That was, by far, the least of your worries at that point of time.

"I apologize, loyal listeners! We'll have to go to intermission, but I assure I will be back-- a new guest in tow, if all goes accordingly!" More laughter-- cackling, before it cut to a soft, almost lulling sort of music.

It did little to calm your nerves-- in fact, it worsened them tenfold, knowing what was to come next. Who was to come next,

A wordless cry escaped you, frantically clawing at the hand around your ankle-- but it was almost... slippery, non-corporeal as well. You couldn't seem to get a grip on it, as it just--

Your fingers just moved right through it, and it tightened its death grip in warning. But you were too afraid by now, the realization that for the past five year you'd been staying in the Radio Demon's house came crashing down on you in an instant.

That's why it hadn't been ransacked already, why it had such nice things, why there was barely anything that exceeded the 1930s technology or aesthetically wise-- the mounted deer heads, the-- the everything!

You'd fallen after he took his 'sabbatical', but you still heard so much of him. In the past few years, the fear of him had died down-- but still,

You knew exactly what he meant by a 'new guest'.

In that moment, you had the stupid thought of I'm too young to die like this, which was ridiculous, because you were already dead. You were in Hell,

and yet, the truth lied in the 'like this' part of that statement. You didn't want to be tortured and eaten on air, you didn't want all of Hell (or at least a very, very large portion of it) tuning in to hear the first 'guest' The Radio Demon got on his show post-disappearance.

Stomach flipping, vision blurring from your tears, your ears rang as your heart worked overtime-- You're sure your face was red and blotchy, tears already making tracks down your cheeks.

Half-hysterical, you were saying "Please, please, please--" in such a desperate tone, directed to no one but yourself. begging yourself to just grab the hand and rip it off, to make it out of this in one piece--

You don't know why you fought so hard, and as you look back, you realize that might've been what made Alastor want to keep you (for the time being). Surely, he adored the fact that you-- teetering on the edge between child and adult, crying and begging-- fighting so hard for a life not worth living.

Really, you had nothing to fight for. No family down here, no friends or even acquaintances, nobody knew you; you were a hermit, one of the younger sinners that people assumed would be snuffed out quickly, and leave behind little to no impact.

Panic surged as you look to your right, a pool of shadows forming-- then, out came the tip of antlers. Then, fluffy ears-- a head, shoulders...

And soon enough, the shadows dissipated. Leaving behind what you assumed, what you were so sure would've been your killer.

He'd opened his mouth-- but as he looked at you, for a reason entirely unknown to you; he buffered. Looking down at you, sobbing and shaking-- lip wobbling, face red and soaked with tears.

You know you looked pathetic at that point.

Maybe that's why he did what he did, why his demeanor entirely changed as he crouched down. Antlers shrinking and the static surrounding him dying down (though never ceasing entirely) as he extended his arms your way. Like he was trying to beckon forward a scared child.

And maybe you did look like one-- but you hardly believe that he genuinely saw you as one.

You know men like Alastor, you know that they could never make room for anyone else in their hearts but themselves-- and a select few people who'd managed to worm their way into his close circle; one way or another.

You were not one of those people.

And yet, he did not harm you.

Even as an indeterminate amount of days, weeks-- maybe even months, passed; he still hasn't harmed you once. He clothes you, he gives you gifts upon gifts (nearly all of which go unopened, shoved in an ever growing pile in the very corner of your room)-- he set you up in a nice room, he feeds you; he claims that you can have all you ever wanted, as long as you ask.

You never did. It was a trap, and you knew it. He was-- was trying to lure you into trusting him. You don't know why he was doing this, maybe he got bored with every horrible act he did being a one-and-done thing.

He was fattening you up like a pig to the slaughter. Making your life all nice and cushy, only to pull the rug from under your feet and reveal what you knew all along.

No matter how many times he said something along the lines of "I won't hurt you, you're safe here, my fawn." or "I view you as my own, a child I never knew I wanted before you came along.", you knew how people like him went about life. People were stepping stones to their goals, his being entertainment; always getting the last laugh.

Once upon a time, you'd heard that his youngest 'guest' he had featured was an 11 year old-- early in his stay in Hell, right as he began to blossom into a fearful Overlord, that child had done something to upset him.

That was, allegedly, back in the mid '30s; and that after that, he never dipped lower than 19 year old. Now, you aren't entirely sure how true that could've been, either part of the claim--

But it was all you had.

You were curious, but not foolish enough to externalize that curiosity. Especially not to like Alastor.

He didn't keep you in the cottage you'd grown accustomed to-- he took you somewhere else. It looked like the cottage; all the way down to the knick-knacks you'd placed all around, right before you made the mistake of touching that radio,

It was always dark out, and when you look out the window-- it was not a forest, but a swamp-- bayou, what-have-you. It was a wetland, with fireflies buzzing around at all times,

There never was a moon, the only light outside came from what seeped out of the faux-cottage and the fireflies that were all over, but that hardly illuminated much.

You didn't leave your 'room'-- the room that looked like the one you'd claimed as your own in the real cottage. He tried coaxing you out of it a lot-- tried making you move rooms, saying he'd set up a room much more suited to your needs.

Every single time, you gave a quiet shake of your head-- that was the furthest those one-sided conversations ever got. Alastor didn't seem too pleased with it, but he laid off it. Didn't force it on you, and he'd then bring you food on a little bed-tray.

Today, you got a little too bold-- or perhaps you just wanted it over with, finally coming to terms with the only way out of here was... well, to force Alastor's hand and get him to snap-- then kill you.

It was obvious he wasn't going to let you go any other way.

You left the room for-- jesus, it must've been the first time you'd done so since the first couple days after you got stuck in this strange other-cottage. The living room didn't look very different.

Noticeably, the trinkets you'd placed before were right where you'd placed them. Not a centimeter out of place.

You tried to ignore it, and sat down on the sofa. You frowned at the Philco Cathedral radio beside you, sitting oh-so-innocently on the accent table near your head.

You glared at it, and while you knew that, realistically speaking, you were entirely to blame for getting in this situation-- not so much the radio, it was still a little cathartic to have something else to blame but yourself.

You turned around and laid on the couch, arms crossed as you pulled your legs to your chest-- back of your head resting against the arm of the couch, you closed your eyes and tried to sleep. Tried to pass time that way,

Predictably, your nerves refused to let that happen. But you retreated into your mind-- and soon enough, you heard Alastor shadow-warp in. You kept your eyes closed, tried to look as peaceful as possible. As vulnerable as you could, open and easy to atta--

A hand, a hand landed on your cheek. it was soft, caring, even. It confused you. Did he know you were awake? Was he trying to pull one over on you as well, because theres no way he'd do this if he didn't know you were witnessing it--

His hand pulled away, and you heard his footsteps pattering away; a door opening, fainter footsteps, the door closing-- and his footsteps getting closer.

Then, you felt something being thrown over you. It wasn't easy, resisting the urge to snap your eyes open-- obviously he knew you were awake, trying to trick you by being all sweet; reaching levels of deception you never thought possible before.

You realized he was trying to deceive you, because you were trying to deceive him-- and any such combination, made your head hurt if you thought about it too long.

Then, he leaned forward; you knew this because his hair brushed against your cheek in the process; both hands went to your face-- cupping your cheeks as he leaned forward and planted a little kiss on your forehead.

He began to tuck you in, and brushed some stray hair from your forehead. In a soft, almost reverent tone, he said "Sweet dreams, little fawn.", then ran his hand through your hair one last time--

Then he was gone. And nothing more came of it-- it was a little embarrassing to admit you'd really fallen asleep, so you reasoned with yourself that you hadn't. Just as you opened your eyes (which you'd totally just been resting, absolutely no sleep having found you. nope, nuh uh), you realized you hadn't been alone.

On the other side of the sofa, pressed as far against the other arm as possible-- almost like it was afraid of startling you if it got too close, was Alastor's weird Shadow creature. The same one that had restrained you that day you'd turned on the radio and spelled your own doom.

"...Hi?" You asked, trying to make yourself sound as groggy as possible (as if you needed to put any conscious effort into that in the first place); trying to sell the impression that'd you'd just been asleep, even though the Shadow probably knew otherwise (you hoped it believed that you hadn't actually fallen asleep, but you're pretty sure it did because nothing felt out of place-- obviously it hadn't attacked you while asleep).

It chirped, jolting up. It's face split in to a jagged grin(?), bright neon blue made up its mouth and eyes as it jumped from its seat and ran to the kitchen. You sat up, blanket falling into your lap; it was a nice, large quilt made up of reds and earth tones. Alastor's signature colors, and if you had to guess, he'd probably pulled it from the storage room.

You'd never been in his bedroom, but you doubt he'd sully a blanket he sleeps with by putting it on you. Even if the point of doing so was to manipulate you or whatever the hell he was playing at.

Around 30 seconds later, Alastor popped his head out of the archway leading into the kitchen. He found you rubbing your eyes with the back of your palm, just now awake enough to realize you smelled something cooking in the kitchen.

Oddly enough, he didn't speak until you pulled your hand from your eye and registered his presence. You looked up at him, eyes wide-- confused. His... his smile,

It looked so real, so genuine. It was soft, something you never thought a man like him could accomplish-- either in a genuine or otherwise manner. It reached his eyes, causing the skin around them to crinkle slightly.

And for a second, just one second, you believed that he actually did care for you.

When he spoke, he did it quietly. He sounded... different, and at first you couldn't quite place your finger on the difference.

"Mornin' fawn! Did you have a good rest?"

First off, he sounded way too... eh, cheery-- actually happy to see you, and like he actually wanted an answer to his question. And secondly, he sounded southern! With how much he talked about being from New Orleans, you should've made the connection that he had an actual accent underneath that transatlantic one; it was so jarring, hearing it gone completely like it was.

You sat in silence for a little bit, Alastor waiting for you to respond to pick up the conversation. Not rushing you, just standing there. God, if you didn't know any better, you'd say he was being patient with you!

In lieu of a verbal response, not trusting yourself to keep the bewilderment out of your voice; you gave a quick nod, and his smile grew by a fraction. He probably thinks he's caught you in his trap--

He gave you one last look, before turning around and heading back into the kitchen. You heard something boiling, and you didn't know what he was making-- it smelled good, though.

"That's good." He called from the kitchen, and it felt so terribly domestic that it had your stomach flipping. Him peacefully cooking, continuing to talk to you even as he did so.

You were beginning to feel nauseous, no longer liking this game he was playing (let's be honest, you never did-- but it was getting too real, blurring too many lines. you knew that, at some point, he would up the ante; but you really wish he hadn't),

(he's beginning to make you believe it, despite you knowing for a fact it was all a dirty trick to get your guard down.)

"I'm so happy you've started to warm up to me!" He started again, and you clenched your hands in the soft, probably expensive, quilt fabric. I'm not warming up to you, your mind supplied-- trying desperately to grasp at straws, and hide away from the fact that you were, you were starting to really believe his lies.

You suppose that it was inevitable, that being isolated with just Alastor (and his shadows, but they were extensions of him-- they didn't count much as another person) for long would get to your head.

You'd like to think that you were mature, hardened by living in Hell for 5 years beforehand-- but deep down, you knew you weren't. That little showcase you'd done when you two first met, cowering on the ground as you sobbed and shuddered and fruitlessly clawed at your restraint was more than enough to prove that.

After everything, you were still a child. You were still that scared little kid, who thinks they're so much better than all their classmates because one of your teachers said "You're so mature for your age!" as an offhanded comment.

There was some clanging and clattering coming from the kitchen, a cabinet opening and something being taken out. A pan, probably; it sounded like a large, flat metal thing. A baking sheet, actually; not just a regular pan.

What on earth was he making in there? A dangerous, curious part of you wondered. Urging you to stand up and go look, but you keep firmly rooted to you spot on the couch. You wouldn't walk right into a trap, you refused to be that unknowing fly that didn't see the spider-web right in front of their face.

You heard (what you assumed to be) the baking pan placed on the tile countertop, a drawer being pulled out, metal utensils clinking together--

"You know," He started off, a bit more rustling came from the kitchen before he continued his though. "I was starting to worry that you never would," He paused, and if you didn't know any better-- you'd say he sounded sad.

But as soon as it showed up, it was thrown right out the window-- Alastor exchanging what seemed to be genuine emotion for the upbeat, almost saccharine sweet tone he'd held moments prior.

"But, I'm so glad you decided to prove me wrong! It was torturous for me, my child refusing to so much as look my direction when not forced to..." Alastor trailed off, leaving you in relative silence-- the conversation went dead for a while, as you process his words.

When you realized what he'd called you, panic flooded you. He'd never called you that before-- or maybe he has, and you just tuned it out. He said so many things, all of which you had a very hard time believing were based in even an ounce of truth;

Maybe it was the tone that finally brought your attention to the title-- his child. You were not his child! You were some random squatter who just so happened to be a minor! You weren't a kid, and you certainly weren't his kid--!

"I'm not-" You tried to say, spine stiffening, hair on the back of your neck standing straight up at the realization. But, in true Alastor fashion, he quickly cut you off and diverted your attention-- out of the blue asking "Could you come and help, my dear? I think it's about time you start learning how to cook."

okay, rude, you thought. Alastor couldn't have known you for more than a few months; you're sure you would've realized if a year had passed (you hope you would, anyways), and never once had he asked if you could cook.

You had half a mind to try and push how far his patience could go, refuse to stand-- to follow his 'invitation' (demand) for you come help him in the kitchen.

A much more rational part of you screamed at you that no, no-- don't do that, you absolute idiot!

You wish you could say you didn't give in to him, that you stayed right where you were and tested how far he'd go with his promise of not hurting you. That would, however, be a lie.

It was almost like you were on autopilot, pulling the blanket off and making a half-assed effort to fold it before setting it on the couch. You felt a little numb as your feet seemed to move on their own, eventually leading you to the kitchen.

One hand of the edge of the entryway, you stood cautiously at the very edge between the living room's hardwood floor and the kitchen's black-and-white checkered tiles.

You're not sure how long you stood there-- not long at all, you think. Alastor turned around, offering a small, horribly soft smile and quietly beckoning you.

You took one step in, and Alastor laughed at that; he lifted his arm, gesturing to his right. Obviously, he was instructing you to come stand by his side.

It was out of fear, you told yourself-- that when you'd followed his orders, standing next to him; you didn't fight at all when he laid his arm over your shoulders, pulling you impossibly closer to him.

"Isn't this kind of impractical?" You asked, mumbling under your breath-- you were halfway between wanting Alastor to hear and not wanting him to, but of course, the former was the outcome.

Alastor's hand had settled on top of your head, absent-mindedly smoothing down your hair as his other hand whisked eggs into... something. He laughed, amused. Not entertained, not the joy he so obviously took in toying with others-

He sounded endeared.

That spelled the beginning of the end for you-- for your staunch position on the idea that Alastor was just messing with you, playing the long game and what not.

The realization of how... real he was being, with his actual accent out in the open... it opened the floodgates, and your grip started slipping on the idea that Alastor wanted to do you harm.

He was patient, more patient than you'd ever think he could be (from you'd heard previously, of course), he cares about your boundaries (somewhat, but that's way, way more than you ever thought you'd get with him), he fed you, he provided you with clothes and books-- claiming he'd give you anything if you'd just ask.

Your head felt full of cotton, ears ringing slightly-- drowning out Alastor response of "Mm, i suppose it is. But is it such a crime for a father to want to have his darling child close?"

Numbly, you shook your head, only have vaguely registered what he said. He gave a pleased hum, and went back to his cooking.

Really, he wasn't teaching you anything-- just doing his own thing while he kept you glued to his side.

You found yourself not minding it too much. You couldn't find it in yourself to care that you didn't mind it, actually.

[failbettergames]

Christmas in Fallen London, 2024

Fallen London rings in another year (yes, that year is 1899, again). Christmastide – and the customary covering of 'snow' – is set to fall upon the city once more.

What's New?

Christmas comes with a host of seasonal treats and novelties. Here's what we've cooked up this year, most of which will arrive on the 2nd of December from 'Explore the Festive Season,' available throughout London.

Mr Treats Ratwork Emporium

The Fifth City's foremost purveyor of seasonal delights opens up its exclusive establishment during the Christmas season, offering intricate wonders and custom-made marvels. A new commission is available this year, alongside last year’s.

Mr Treats Ratwork Emporium will open on the 13th December and close on the 25th, and is available anywhere in London. Commissioning an item from Mr Treats will begin a short story that will progress throughout the Christmas season, ending on Christmas Day.

The Undercrofts Ancillary

Penstock himself – owner of the Neath's foremost land agency – is out in force this festive season, offering that most rare of gifts: treasures from the Bazaar's very own vaults. From the 2nd of December, purchase a Frosted Debenture and claim a brand new piece of equipment, or, if you're feeling especially magnanimous, send the Debenture to a friend for them to use.

Purchase a Debenture for 30 Fate in 'Explore the Festive Season'. Once purchased, they can be freely gifted to a friend on your contact list. There are two new items available this year, with more to come in future years.

New Options for Profile Page Customisation

We've added some seasonal new options for profile page customisation! A new cameo frame – 'Yuletide Cheer' – will be available for purchase in 'Explore the Festive Season', for those who wish to decorate their profile in the trappings of the season. We've also added a few new headers – some of which have never been seen before! You'll see them, soon enough…

A Seasonal Miscellany

In addition to new treats, Fallen London will be full to the brim with the hustle and bustle of Christmas, all the way into the New Year.

The Fallen London Advent Calendar

From the 1st until the 25th of December we’ll be handing out advent treats via the Fallen London Advent Calendar! Each will give you a snippet of Yuley narrative, and something besides: trinkets, magpie-treasures, and occasionally something rare.

Look for the storylet 'Advent: A Calendar of Encounters', available anywhere in London. You’ll be able to ‘catch up’ and claim any and all rewards until the end of the year – however, opening the doors on the days when they become available will give you a little extra.

As ever, rewards for Advent shift year to year, though there are some fixed points. Old doors are retired, new doors are added. Remember always that some doors cannot be unopened.

Christmas Cards

Tell your friends you are thinking of them this festive season. (Don’t tell them what you are thinking of them.) Neathy Christmas cards return: four designs, with room for your own message!

Your stock of cards will be replenished weekly by Time, the Healer, starting from noon on the 2nd of December. You can send cards, and engage in other festive jollity, in the storylet 'Explore the Festive Season', anywhere in London.

You need to be acquaintances with another player before you can send them a Christmas card. To become acquainted with somebody, 'Attend to Matters of Society' in your Lodgings, where you can send a calling card to a contact.

Find friends to exchange cards with on our forums, the Fallen London subreddit, or the Official Failbetter Discord.

Snowfall!

Every week during the Christmas season, when Time the Healer visits, clear your doorstep of Neath-snow (or fob the task off on others). They say the stuff is called 'lacre'. They say you shouldn't throw it away. What is it? Where does it fall from? And why do the Masters prize it so highly?

The Twelve Days of Mr Sacks

After Christmas, field off visits from the Crimson Beast of Winter. Every day from the 25th December to the 5th January, encounter Mr Sacks and satiate him with gifts. What lies beneath its robe? Investigate on your own behalf, or join forces with a range of possible allies. HO. HO. HO.

Visit Penstock's Wicket

Penstock's shop is right on the flank of the Bazaar, and is much larger than it looks. From the 5th of January, descend into the depths around the Bazaar and spend your knowledge of the season's mysteries to claim special rewards. This is a chance to acquire various rewards, including unusual lodgings and perhaps, briefly, even your own noman.

The festive season in Fallen London will wrap up in the last week of January. You’ll notice that there is no premium story listed here: we were going to release one in January, but all things considered, we’ve instead opted to focus our efforts elsewhere.

We hope you have a happy – or at least interesting – festive season in the Fifth City.

And one more piece of business

From the 27th of January, Fate will cost slightly more. This is an inflationary adjustment, as it’s been almost two years since the last change to Fate prices (though we're still behind the rate of inflation since the game started in 2009).

10 Fate will be $3.50, and 100 Fate $28. The best value price for a single point of Fate will be $0.25; a small increase over about $0.23 today.

Prices in other currencies will reflect these increases, as determined by the current exchange rates, which we update regularly. The price of subscriptions won’t change.

[cantareincminor]

My SxF Writing

When I first got into Spy x Family I had no idea I would write so many fics for it! Keeping track of it has gotten a bit unwieldy so here is a masterlist.

Completed Works

Orpheus: 350K words, mole hunt arc canon divergence fic where Yuri is critically injured in the sewers, leading to catastrophic consequences for Twilight. The fic I'm proudest of, and the most personally meaningful.

From Ostania with Love: Orpheus universe, comedy fic where years later, Twilight and Yor watch a Hollywood movie about themselves.

In the Sunlight: Orpheus universe, one-shot where Twilight and Yor recover their intimacy after the traumatic events near the end of Orpheus.

Form: My first fic in the SxF fandom! An identity reveal one-shot on how Twilight and Yor view each other before and after their truths come to light.

Tummy Troubles: Crack fic where Twilight embarrasses himself in the worst way in front of his cover family, only to find he is loved and accepted regardless.

Every Stitch a Memory: One-shot where Loid intends to donate Anya's old clothes, unintentionally evoking sad memories for Yor and bringing her conflicted feelings about her "fake" husband to the surface.

Not With A Bang: Sequel one-shot to Every Stitch a Memory where Twilight and Yor come clean to each other.

Air: AU one-shot (for now?) where Twilight and Thorn Princess meet on the job.

Heaven’s Knife: One-shot for Twiyor Fluff Weekend 2024. Yor and Loid attend Camilla’s wedding pre-reveal, and experience a series of firsts.

Of Christmas Future: Three-part Christmas fic where Anya and Franky stage a Bondman-themed play to cheer Twilight up for the holidays.

Good for Goodness' Sake: Three-part Christmas fluff fic where Franky finds a job as a mall elf to make some cash! Crazy shenanigans ensue! (Gift for @juuyeah)

WIPs

Yesterday's Enemy is Today's Girlfriend: Orpheus universe, Franky/Chloe fic where the former informant and SSS agent get to know each other and settle in Westalis.

The Magical and the Mundane: Orpheus universe, TwiYor pregnancy fic told from Yor's POV.

Forever Family: Serious and somewhat dark fic about Anya's previous adoptive families and orphanages.

What Friends are For: Crack fic where Twilight begrudgingly helps Franky learn how to date by disguising himself as an attractive woman.

21 Eden Street: Collab with the amazing @unhappy-sometimes! Crack fic where Twilight and Franky go undercover as students at Eden to infiltrate a drug ring.

Discarded Snippets

Orpheus original opening scene

Orpheus Ch. 14: Twilight and Sylvia conversation

Orpheus Ch. 20: Twilight picks up Anya and Yor

Orpheus Ch. 29: Happier chapter ending

Fanart

Orpheus Ch. 3: Ghosts by @hazardous-lightdas12

Orpheus Ch. 4: Twilight hugs Bond by @aerequets

Orpheus Ch. 32: Liars and Killers by @unhappy-sometimes

Orpheus Ch. 48: "Elegant" by @roucaelum-art

Yesterday's Enemy is Today's Girlfriend Ch. 15: Franky's mother by @juuyeah

What Friends are For: Gisela by @hazardous-lightdas12

21 Eden Street Cover Art by @unhappy-sometimes

[thepenultimateword]

The Un-Gingerbread || Secret Santa 2024

I participated in the Secret Santa writing event again this year! This snippet is for @gingerly-writing! I hope you enjoy! I know you said I could choose just one topic buuuut I ended up kinda combining them all together!

magical girl powers (especially for villains)

something cute and Christmassy turned deadly/bad (Christmas card full of blackmail, evil snow powers, etc)

super niche/useless superpower saves the day

“They’re Christmas cookies,” Hero said blandly.

“They’re suspicious.” Villain tapped the edge of the platter with the tip of their snowflake wand. Little swirls of frost spread over the surface of the plastic wrap, clouding over the little gingerbread faces.

“Some caroler or neighbor or someone trying to be spread Christmas cheer casually left a plate on your doorstep. End of story.”

Hero had never been the imaginative type. It was a little annoying actually: the power of disbelief. One of the only things that had ever rendered Villain powerless. It didn’t always work, especially now that Hero had seen Villain’s work up close so often, but when Hero got thinking too much about the laws of gravity, the improbability of a transformation sequence, the energy mechanics of magic, Villain found themselves dropping like a stone. 

In those moment they just had to hope Hero was close enough to catch them–practically a guarantee–and empathetic enough not say a word to anyone else. …Less likely.

Villain tucked the wand into a reality pocket–Hero was nice enough not mess with that one today-and swished their capelet around them as they turned toward the fridge. The next thing they knew, they were pouring a glass of milk just so they could look away. The hero’s dry gaze already felt like a drain on their powers without this extra dose of exasperation. 

“Look at the clothes,” they said.

Hero raised an eyebrow, but began to peel up the first layer of plastic wrap.

“Don’t unwrap them!” Villain cried, then as Hero’s eyebrow did a higher, more quizzical leap into their hair, “We don’t know what’s in them.”

“I don’t think this shoddy wrap job is keeping in any dangerous toxins,” Hero said.

Villain stomped a heeled shoe. “Don’t say such dangerous things out loud!”

“For that to work the cookies would have to actually be toxic. Which they aren’t.” Hero’s eyes flicked up and down before returning to the cookie plate and the unwrapping process. “Did you seriously do a complete transformation over this?”

Villain warmed a little. They didn’t make a habit of inviting heroes to their apartment, but something about this had shaken them. Something about those sugar pearl eyes peering up at them had felt…wrong. Though they’d claimed, even internally, that Hero was simply the first name to pop into their head, maybe…maybe they’d chosen them on purpose. Maybe they’d wanted a bit of logic to asway their anxiety. To tell them everything was truly alright.

“I’m just being prepared,” Villain said, then nodded at the plate.

The gingerbreadpeople were dressed like them. Not the comfortable, baggy outfits they wore as a civilian but their magical version–silver pompadour shoes with a snowflake sprinkles for the buckles, long icy blue tailcoat and capelet with a carefully iced imitation of the frost pattern emroidery, and whipped ruffles—so many ruffles, in the cravat, in the white undershirt, in the peeking cuffs of the sleeves; the Ginger-Villains even held their wand, complete with silver edible glitter so the snowflake head sparkled in the light.

“Coincidence.”

“Coinci– Hero! That’s me!”

“Yes, and half the city is convinced you’re some sort of ice fairy.” Villain could hear the eyeroll in their tone. “This isn’t the first cookie I’ve seen with your face on it.”

“But they are the first to show up at my door.”

Hero let out an enormous sigh. “Ok, honestly? Yes, it’s weird. Yes, it’s creepy. But I just don’t believe anyone could have figured out who you are let alone where you live. You’re ok. Throw them away if you’re so worried.”

Villain folded their arms poutily. “I’m sure that’s exactly what the sender wants me to do. One moment I’m dumping cookies, the next I have giant radioactive rats breaking down my door.”

They swished their cape again, more dramatically this time, making the full breadth of their displeasure known. 

Hero sighed again. They did that so much it was a wonder they had any breath left.

“Do you want me to take them?”

Villain blinked. “Really?”

“You’re just going keep calling me otherwise, right? And I have no worries about throwing them away in my trash.”

Villain picked up the platter hesitantly. “I wouldn’t want you to get hurt on my behalf…”

“I know it’s Christmas but quit with the fluff. Hand them over.”

Hero thrust out their hand, waving their fingers impatiently. 

Well, if Hero really wanted the creepy cookies, who was Villain to stop them. They were a grown, capable adult who knew how to take care of themselves, and they were enemies anyways, so Villain didn’t need to feel guilty at all if–

Villain’s thoughts stopped short, plate half extended. The platter trembled a little in their fist.

“Are you really so freaked out that you’re shaking?” Hero said.

“I-I’m not.”

Something on the platter was moving. 

As the first Ginger-Villain rose to its feet, all Villain and Hero could do was stare. 

When the second one popped up, Villain threw the platter across the room.

The decorative plastic cracked against the wall, and about two dozen cookies scattered every direction.

The wall clock ticked a second of peace, and then the cookies were back up, faces smudges, bodies cracked, or a gory scene of cookie arms and legs and sugar pearl eyes littering the tile.

One cookie who was lucky enough to escape the throw with no more damage than a lost eye and a smeared tailcoat waddled determinedly forward while several others limped or dragged themselves behind.

Villain cursed. "What is happening?"

"It's not real. it's not real. it's not real," Hero muttered like a ritual beside them. But the cookies were real. And whatever disbelief Hero had been suspending was broken.

Fine. If Hero was going to be useless... Villain reached into the air and yanked their wand out of its pocket and back into reality.

They flicked the wand once, sending a pale coating of slick ice over the living cookies, stiffening their limbs and freezing them to the spot.

"There," Villain said, letting out a slow exhale. "Now I think we should burn--"

Crack.

Crick, crack.

Crick, crack, crackle, crack.

Steam wafted up from each cookie, and as they pressed forward, little fissures spread up the weakened ice-coating.

"Are they...getting hotter?" Villain said.

The embroidery detailing and facial features dripped down the cookie's bodies as they moved pooling in little sweet puddles at their feet. A few cookies picked up the nearby limbs and melded them into the now soft stumps.

"That shouldn't be as disturbing as it is," Hero muttered.

"Ok, I was going easy on you all because you're made of flour," Villain said, "but why don't you try escaping this?"

Villain swished their wand in a circle, this time encapuslating the cookies in a large, solid ball of ice.

Crack.

Villain conjured another layer.

Crick, crack.

Another.

Crack. Crack. Crack.

Another.

The ice ball grew and grew, but for every layer of ice Villain threw up, the cracking only seemed to quicken.

Great billowing clouds of steam filled the room, obscuring the ice prison from view and Villain backed warily toward the living room, grabbing Hero's arm as they went.

There was one final crack; ice shot around the room like shattered glass and a wave of chilly water washed across the floor, seeping through the seams of their shoes.

As the cookies had heated in their prison, they'd mushed together, replacing two dozen zombieish Ginger-Villains with one enormous, thoroughly burnt Ginger-Creature. One beady sugar pearl stared down at them from the gooey burnt icing face.

"Hero, do something!" Villain shouted, digging their nails into the hero's arm.

Hero paused their muttered chant long enough to roar, "I'm trying!"

"What, a walking cookie is too realistic for you?"

"It reminds me of a horror movie! It's hard to disbelieve in things that have that sort of hold in my mind!"

The Ginger-Creature stepped toward them.

Villain waved their wand toward the pool of water on the floor, freezing it into a slick sheet. Unfortunately, they hadn't thought about their own half-submerged feet. As they attempted another step back, they found their blocky heels frozen to the floor.

The creature slipped a little with its next step, but ultimately its heating power left indents in the ice wherever its giant feet moved.

Villain lurched back, but the attempt was fruitless.

"Take off your shoes!" Hero cried, already in their socks and crouching down at Villain's feet and fumbling with the intricate snowflake buckles.

"They're magic shoes," Villain choked. "They don't come off."

"Then detransform! Do something! It's coming!"

Villain grabbed Hero by either side of their face, forcing them to look up at them.

"Hero, I need you're annoying, unimaginative, logical brain to start asking the big questions right now."

Hero stared at them wide-eyed. "I...I..."

"Come on! You always think of something aggravating! Like...how can this cookie see us when its eye is just sugar? How does the light pass through? And even if it does, how is that light processed? Does it have a cookie brain? That doesn't make any sense."

"How can it heat itself?" Hero said, voice a little trembly. "Nothing in gingerbread can conduce its own heat."

"Yeah, and why did the cookies have heat powers anyway when they were supposed to be copies of me?"

"How did it know how to shape itself? It's messed up, but it's still sort of a person. Do all the cookies have a sense of humanity? Do they have separate thoughts? Or are they one cookie hivemind?"

The smell of burnt sugar and ginger was suffocating now. Villain could feel the heat wafting off it as it's burnt foot came into view a mere couple of feet away.

Hero spread their arms out in front of Villain and looked up into the towering cookie's face. “You're not real.”

The gingerbread froze in place. It's entire body shuddered, and then abruptly it crumbled into a pile of blackened cookie dust. The sugar pearl rolled across the floor and into Villain's knee.

They both stared in silence.

Then Villain laughed.

They couldn’t help it. Emotional response maybe. They just laughed and laughed and went weak against Hero's side, grasping for balance around their waist. Hero hugged them with one arm around the head. Villain wasn't sure if they even knew they were doing it, or if the simply needed as much support after that conclusion as Villain did.

"I did it," Hero gasped.

"You did it!" Villain said giddily. "You're so boring, you fantastic stick in the mud you!"

Villain picked up the sugar pearl, rolling it between their thumb and forefinger a couple times, before popping it triumphantly in their mouth. As soon, as the sweetness hit their tongue, words sprang across their mind unprompted.

Merry Christmas, Villain. I'm sorry you didn't like my treat. My next one will be better.

[ultram0th]

UltraM0th's 2024 TF Advent Calendar!

Yay! It's Christmas Season! (Truth be told, I prefer Christmas Season to Spooky Season...)

Therefore, it's time for the 2nd TF Advent Calendar! Everyday until Christmas, there will be a new snippet of a hot guy being transformed to your pleasure! If this goes well, then I'd love for this to become an annual event. I hope you all enjoy!

My apologies if your guy didn't make the cut. There were loads of suggestions, so I had to do a first-come-first-serve/tally system.

🎄ENJOY!

[aquamarixx]

what you deserve

Kazutora must've lucked out because he knows you’re way out of his league and maybe too good for no good person like him 

⁺₊ ❆ ANGSTMAS 2024 ENTRY ❆ ₊⁺ pairing hanemiya kazutora x reader word count 1.6k words tags aged up, final timeline, angst, hurt navigation

Life has been good—or at least better—for Kazutora.

He could almost call it normal. Almost.

But despite years of therapy and the steady routine he built after his second stint in prison, there are things that still scare him. 

Relationships.

Whether platonic or romantic, he treads carefully. Always cautious. Always on guard, terrified of scaring people off—or worse, hurting them. He had tried dating once, only to back out at the last moment when Chifuyu and Baji set him up with someone. That’s how bad it is.

His past still held him in a chokehold, haunting every corner of his life. The fear of causing harm—be it emotional or physical—lurks in the shadows. And all he could do was brace himself, waiting for the inevitable crash.

That’s why Kazutora never thought he’d find himself dating someone like you.

You were everything he wasn’t. Beautiful, smart, independent. You’d finished college, held a stable corporate job, and had a loving family. You seemed so perfect, so normal—a person whose life was so well put together that it made his mess of a past feel even more glaring.

In short, you’re someone who definitely had their shit together. 

He first met you at XJ Land, the pet shop where he worked. Chifuyu ran the place, and it had become Kazutora’s sanctuary—safe and simple. You became a regular there, often bringing in your tuxedo cat, Kuro, for grooming. 

You were always cheerful, always making conversation with him, Baji, and Chifuyu. And while you treated them warmly, Kazutora noticed that you gave him just a little more attention.

You weren’t subtle about it, either. You flirted with him in small, gentle ways, watching with amusement as he stumbled over his words. He thought you were out of his league from the start.

And one day, you asked him out. Against all his instincts, he said yes.

Who is he to say no to the kind regular who doted on her cat like it was the center of the universe? The same person who gave him confident smiles and listened intently when he shared cautious snippets of his life. The same person who accepted him without judgment, without hesitation.

Months later, you were still together, and Kazutora found himself happier than he ever thought he could be. It felt… surreal. How perfectly you fit into his arms. How your presence grounded him in a reality he was afraid to believe in. How you filled the empty corners of his life with light.

But even that happiness came with a shadow. His dark past, his trauma and insecurities he couldn’t shake no matter how hard he tried. The same ones he could only keep at bay. Ones he can never extinguish until it's truly gone. 

It was supposed to be a good day—your first Christmas together. You had dragged him out of the house to shop for decorations and gifts, holding his hand as you navigated the bustling streets.

To you, it was mundane and fun. To him, it was a glimpse of a future he dared to dream of—a life where moments like these felt normal.

He felt light, almost carefree, until you bumped into your friends from college.

Kazutora stayed quiet as you introduced him, squeezing his hand reassuringly. But the conversation quickly turned sour to his liking, and it was like knives twisting in his chest.

"So, what do you do?" one of them asked Kazutora politely. He stuttered for a moment, a bit shy to say what he does for a living, in front of your friends who are probably well established like yourself. 

*"He works at a pet store," you answered for him, noticing how he froze. Your tone was proud, but Kazutora couldn’t stop himself from imagining the judgment in their eyes. They didn’t say anything outright, but the polite nods felt like daggers to him.

The conversation veered off course when one of your friends casually mentioned your ex-boyfriend, now working at a bank. Another added something about a guy who used to have a crush on you, now climbing the corporate ladder in pharmaceuticals.

He knew that you’ve dated other guys before him. But he never really asked about them. Maybe he doesn’t want to compare himself to them. Or hurt himself thinking how much of a downgrade he is. 

Kazutora forced a smile, but inside, it felt like the air was thinning. Even if you’re in the middle of the street, it feels like there were invisible walls closing in on him. He tugged at your hand, murmuring something about needing to get going, and you, sensing his discomfort, quickly excused yourselves.

Back at your apartment, you noticed how quiet Kazutora had become. The warmth of your shared apartment was meant to feel like a haven, especially now during the holidays. The glow of the Christmas tree lights danced across Kazutora’s face as he sat stiffly on the couch, shoulders tense, staring at his hands.

You knew that the encounter earlier had brought an awkward tension that Kazutora couldn’t seem to shake. Now, he seemed distant—almost unreachable.

To cheer him up, you pulled out your Christmas gift for him—a carefully chosen leather bracelet engraved with something meaningful between the two of you.

“Here,” you said softly, placing the neatly wrapped box in front of him before placing a chaste kiss on his cheek. “Merry Christmas, Tora.”

He didn’t respond. Instead, he stared at the gift like it was a weight too heavy to bear.

"Why do you even bother?" he said, his voice low and bitter.

You froze. "What do you mean?"

"This." He gestured vaguely at the gift, then at himself. "Us. Why are you even wasting your time with me? You could do so much better, but instead, you’re stuck with me. A guy who works at a pet store and can’t even give you half of what you deserve."

"Kazutora—" you started, but he didn’t let you finish.

“No, listen to me!” His voice cracked as he cut you off, raw and trembling. “You’re everything I’m not. You’re smart, beautiful, and successful. And me? I’m just… nothing. Just a guy with a criminal record, stuck working at a pet store, barely holding his life together. You should go back to one of those guys your friends were talking about. At least they can give you what you deserve.” 

You flinched, his sudden outburst breaking your heart. “Kazutora, what are you even saying? I love you, and I—”

“Don’t!” he interrupted, his tone sharp, almost desperate. “You shouldn’t waste your love on someone like me. Everything is temporary, and I’m just another mistake waiting to happen.”

Your heart twisted painfully as you reached for his hand, but he pulled away, standing abruptly.

"Stop it!" you shouted, tears brimming in your eyes. "You don’t get to decide what I want, Kazutora. I chose you because I love you. I don’t care about your past or where you work. None of that matters to me."

He laughed bitterly, running his hands through his hair in frustration. “Don’t say that! Don’t… don’t act like I deserve that. I don’t. You’re just going to leave, just like everyone else. You’re going to realize I’m broken, and you’ll hate me for it.”

You stepped closer, your voice breaking. “I'm not gonna leave you, Kazutora. You’re—.”

But Kazutora shook his head, tears streaming down his face. "You don’t understand. I’ll just drag you down. I’ll ruin everything, just like I always do. You deserve someone who can actually make you happy, someone who isn’t broken."

"You’re not broken," you whispered, but he didn’t believe you. He couldn’t.

“Do you know what it’s like to ruin every good thing in your life? I do.” His voice cracked, his fists clenched at his sides. “And I won’t let that happen to you. You deserve better.”

His words hung in the air, heavy and suffocating. 

You tried to stop him, but he was already at the door. "Kazutora, please don’t do this. Please—”

Before you could say another word, he grabbed his jacket and stormed out of the apartment. The slam of the door echoed through the apartment, leaving you in the cold grip of frustration and confusion.

Kazutora walked through the cold streets, replaying every word in his mind. By the time he reached the shared house he lives in with Chifuyu and Baji, his chest felt hollow. Like the void he’s oh so afraid of has swallowed everything whole and left him nothing but pain and despair.

Chifuyu was still awake, sitting in the kitchen with a cup of tea. He looked up as Kazutora walked in, his face etched with concern.

"Hey… everything okay?" Chifuyu asked cautiously.

Kazutora just shook his head and muttered, "I’m fine. Don’t worry about it."

Chifuyu didn’t press, though his worried gaze lingered as Kazutora trudged upstairs.

In his room, Kazutora collapsed onto his bed, clutching his phone. His thumb hovered over your contact for what felt like hours before he finally typed out a message:

You deserve better than me. Let’s break up. I’m sorry.

He hit send and curled up in bed, his heart breaking into pieces. To him, this was the only gift he could give you. A chance at a better life without him.

The holidays weren’t supposed to feel like this, but Kazutora convinced himself it was better this way. Even if it meant being alone. Even if it meant breaking both of your hearts.

It was just another Christmas marked by pain, another reminder that happiness for someone like him was always temporary.

amari's notes: this is the very first tokyo rev fic i've ever written, and for kazutora no less! im grateful for the request and i hope you enjoy this one @inu1gf! happy holidays! anyway, I’d love to hear your thoughts, so feel free to leave a reply or drop an ask or even a request! ⸜(｡˃ ᵕ ˂ )⸝♡

[thewolvesof1998]

✨ Fic Writing Review 2023 ✨

Words and Fics

47, 302 words published to ao3

1 fandoms (9-1-1)

Most recent drop: even when the heat breaks I’m still yours (E, 6,169 words)

Longest Fic: Alright, Cowboy, Go Get 'Em (E, 16,925 words)

Top Fics by Kudos

I want you to be selfish with me (M, 4,652 words)

You bring me comfort (T, 4,181 words)

Tapping Morse Code into your heart (E, 2,796 words)

let me cradle your body (be a safe place to rest) (G, 1,972 words)

nicknames, supernova similes and the family we make (G, 800 words)

My fandom fic events in 2023

I didn't participate in any this year but maybe next year!

Upcoming Events and Projects for 2024

Fics I'm going to try and get out this year:

Dog Tags Fic/Mistaken Identity/Christmas: They don’t know (your name is already mine)

Secret fic

Buddie rodeo/Alright Cowboy, Go Get 'Em

Already started/mostly written:

Buddie MMA Rivals AU

Someone to be Gentle- 5 times Buck is gentle with Eddie and + One time Eddie repays his gentleness  

For you mi amor, I choose death/Buddie Mafia AU

Librarian AU/Let me check you out

You make bad day infinitely better

Vampire/Werewolf Buddie/Halloween fic

Only the already bad can be influenced/Crop top and short shorts fic

Bank Robbery Fic/Mutually Assured Destruction

No-Nut-November fic

Pirates Buddie

We might end up real close 2x1 fic

Ideas/planned/just started fics:

Buck get dumps, gets drunk with Eddie and thinks they slept together fic

Awkward Sex Buddie fic

I can see you sequel

Love list Buddie

Don't go where I can't follow

Motorcycle fic

Street racing/Fast and Furious AU

Buddie- You belong with me fic

5+1 Platonic Daddy fic with @exhuastedpigeon

LA zoo TikTok Buck

Buck & Eddie wedding- Something wrong in the village

sword buddie pt. 2/ Under the Guise of Violence 

Post Lawsuit/Call your mum inspired fic

Untitled post season 6 angst based on Stick Season

I've tagged all the latest post about all the fics that I've already made posts about (all previous snippets should be linked if you want to go back and read them)

Rules & Tags below the cut!

Rules: Feel free to show whatever stats you have. Only want to show Ao3 stats? Rock on. Want to include some quantitative info instead of stats? Please do this. Want to change how yours is presented? Absolutely do that. Would rather eat glass than do this? Please don’t eat glass but don’t feel like you have to do this either.

Tagged by: @steadfastsaturnsrings @smilingbuckley @your-catfish-friend @theotherbuckley @jamespearce9-1-1 @jesuisici33 @wikiangela @hippolotamus @monsterrae1 @exhuastedpigeon

Tagging (no pressure): @wildlife4life​ @eddiebabygirldiaz @disasterbuckdiaz @spotsandsocks @try-set-me-on-fire​ @bekkachaos @buddierights @spagheddiediaz @911-on-abc @shitouttabuck @911onabc @malewifediaz @loserdiaz @ladydorian05 @watchyourbuck @king-buckley @chaoticgremlinwholikescheese @daffi-990 @fortheloveofbuddie @mangacat201 @hoodie-buck @eowon @rainbow-nerdss @nmcggg @pirrusstuff @evanbegins @giddyupbuck @sammysouffle @carrierofthepaperclips @jeeyuns @callmenewbie @thosetwofirefighters @princehattric @alliaskisthepossibilityoflove

[writerfae]

Christmas movie AU Advent Calendar 2024 - Trope list

I can’t promise that I actually manage to write a snippet for each of those but I will try

Icicle

Elf

Christmas lights

Christmas decorations

Snowball fight

Scarf

Reindeer

Christmas tree

Baking

Hot chocolate

Presents

Christmas songs

Sledding

Snowman

Blanket

Winter wonderland

Gloves

Mistletoe

Ice skating

Christmas dinner

Snow globe

Frost

Christmas card

Christmas sweater

[malevolent-monthly]

December 2024 Prompts (and the end of Malevolent Monthly!)

[ID: A graphic with a long yellow rectangle on top and two white boxes beneath it. The yellow rectangle has the words “December 2024” in it. The leftmost white box has the first prompt title, "Christmas Carol” underlined in yellow, along with the prompt text, "Larson and Yellow read A Christmas Carol Together.” The rightmost white box has the second prompt title, "Coparenting" underlined in yellow, along with the prompt text, “Due to an unfortunately worded deal regarding his firstborn child when he was younger, Arthur now has to coparent Faroe with John. John doesn't quite understand how human infants work, but he's trying his best." /End ID]

Welcome to month 12 of the Malevolent Monthly event! This month’s festive heart-warming prompts are:

Christmas Carol: Larson and Yellow read A Christmas Carol together.

Coparenting: Due to an unfortunately worded deal regarding his firstborn child when he was younger, Arthur now has to coparent Faroe with John. John doesn't quite understand how human infants work, but he's trying his best.

As a reminder, you will have the entire month to write a fic based on this prompt. There is no minimum or maximum word count. Fics responding to these prompts can be posted anytime. If you’re posting to AO3, don’t forget to add your fic to our AO3 collection!

Participants can also send asks or submissions with snippets from their fic, and we will preview them on our Tumblr and/or Pillowfort.

For more information about the event, please visit our FAQ page or send us an ask!

On another note, this is our last set of prompts for Malevolent Monthly, as we have decided to end it at the end of 2024. A sincere thank you to everyone who has participated or enjoyed our prompts, and we hope they worked to stoke your creative embers. The AO3 will remain up if you finish fics and would like to add them on, but otherwise - as we gather around the roaring fire - happy writing!

[thgfanfictionlibrary]

Fall/Harvest/Spooky Masterlist (3)

Part 1 / Part 2 / 

Created: October 12th, 2024

Last Checked:—-

(Not a) Couples Costume-thesweetnessofspring (ao3) Summary: Katniss won't admit she has a crush on Peeta. It's pointless when he's always been popular and well-liked and she's been, well, not. No matter how nice he is, her feelings won't be returned. Then they show up to the same Halloween party in an accidental couples costume and it turns out that maybe the feelings aren't so one-sided after all. THG Trick or Treat 2023 4 a.m.-endlessnightlock (ao3) Summary: Peeta gets a second chance he doesn't think he deserves. Amazing and Corny-hutchabelle (ao3) Summary: Stressed over classes, Katniss gives in when her friend Gale insists she join their group of friends at a corn maze. Somehow, she finds herself lost with Peeta, the golden boy she’s admired from afar since their freshman year of college. As a thunderstorm rumbles overhead, they find their their way out of the maze and discover each other, too. A Mellark Family Thanksgiving-JHsgf82 (ao3) Summary: [AU] Katniss attends the annual Mellark Family Thanksgiving as Peeta's new girlfriend. Will she survive meeting them? Will they survive meeting her? Apple Cinnamon Buns-hutchabelle (ao3) Summary: Katniss and Prim enjoy a late fall day at a Christmas market when Katniss discovers a booth that sells the most delicious treats and run by a delectable man with deep blue eyes and wavy blonde hair. Apple Trees and Autumn Breeze-thesweetnessofspring (ao3) Summary: Everlark family picks apples from their garden on a fall afternoon. A Very Everlark Halloween: Journey to Love-JHsgf82 (ao3) Summary: Modern AU. Every year, Peeta and Katniss fall in love all over again on Halloween. Snippets of their journey throughout the years, with some other canon characters thrown in. Largely from Peeta’s POV (in 3rd person). Beauty for Ashes-thesweetnessofspring (ao3) Summary: One autumn morning, Katniss shows Peeta a spectacular view. Burn Index-JHsgf82 (ao3) Summary: (AU) Prim drags Katniss to a fall festival benefitting the local firefighters. There Katniss officially meets a cute firefighter who went to school with her sister. Katniss realizes two things after meeting him, that she’s attracted to him and that she’s noticed him all along. Is he interested, too? Could something happen between them, even though he’s four years younger than Katniss and Prim seems to be crushing on him? By The Light Of the Halloween Moon-TwilightCakes (ao3) Summary: Katniss is reluctant to let her friends drag her out to a house party on Halloween. She prefers to spend her nights studying in the library to keep her college scholarship. When she meets a mysterious masked super hero, she finds herself wishing she hadn't spent so many nights lost in the library. Is it the full moon or just the pull of a sexy masked stranger? She's not sure.

[butmakeitgayblog]

Hi! 😁

I finally read the new chapter of MBFW because I was sick and sad and I couldn't concentrate.

It was great! I loved the sexual tension in the dressing room, I loved Clarke chewing Finn's head because he dared to breathe the same air as Lexa (more or less, just... You know what I mean), I loved that these two idiots are so in love with each other that they can't understand they're practically preparing their wedding.

I'm looking forward to the moment Clarke will explode and Lexa will finally put every single piece together and understand that maybe, maybe, it's time to just let go.

And I'm going to eat popcorn beside two very enthusiastic Raven and Abby.

In the meantime, I'll read the entire story from head to toe again, just because.

That being said: Merry Christmas and Happy New Year! I'm so glad I discovered CoA a few years ago and so this blog.

It brings me joy every time I see a new post or a new picture, a new story or a snippet, so I hope that 2024 was a great year for you and your family and I hope 2025 will be even better! ❤️🎉😁

P.s. I saw what you did with the sad bittersweet ending for Medusa!Au.

I'm watching you.

Love you! ❤️😂

I just wanna say thank you, you always take the time to leave lovely and thoughtful comments on everything and I notice that. I always notice, and I always, always appreciate it 🥹

That aside, trust me when I say we have barely scratched the surface of the emotions that are coming in MBFW. Whatever you are prepared for? You are not properly prepared 👀🙂

Anyway, you are so very sweet, and I wish the best holiday and the most gentle and kind of New Year's 💕🥂

Ps. you saw nothing about medusa au... 👀

[thepenultimateword]

Secret Santa Snippets 2024 List

Thank you everyone who participated in this year's Secret Santa snippet event! I will be collecting all the secret Santa stories in this post so that people can easily find and read them. Merry Christmas and Happy Holidays!

Wooden Coffin by @snowshowerwriting for @serickswrites

Secret Santa 2024 by @yourheartonfire for @wren-l-winter

Secret Santa by @gingerly-writing for @creweemmaeec11

Just a Sense by @creweemmaeec11 for @chaoticgoodthief

Static's Girl by @watercolorfreckles for @esperosisdoeswriting

Secret Santa Snippet by @the-modern-typewriter for @snowshowerwriting

Everything's Going to be Ok (I Hope) by @esperosisdoeswriting for @404lunar1216

Secret Santa Snippet by @silly-lil-khaos-god for @sunflower1000

False Feathers and Lightning Strikes by @chaoticgoodthief for @watercolorfreckles

Secret Santa 2024! by @404lunar1216 for @thepenultimateword

Their First Villain by @kaiwewi for @the-modern-typewriter

The Un-Gingerbread by @thepenultimateword for @gingerly-writing

Secret Santa Snippet 2024 by @pigeonwhumps for @kaiwewi

Citizen Detective by @serickswrites for @yourheartonfire

Secret Santa by @wren-l-winter for @silly-lil-khaos-god

Secret Santa by @sunflower1000 for @pigeonwhumps

[daisychainfiction]

December 24th, 2024

Merry Christmas, Happy Holidays, and a fantastic New Year!

The alpha build on Patreon has been quietly updated a few times over the month. Here's where the alpha build is at as of December 24th!

Chapter Three (so far)

Have a memory (Hunter edition)

Have your midnight meeting with Deerly and the others - learn about the woods

Officially meet Nadia and, depending on your actions, gain a few trust points from the Initiates

Jordan-mancers - have a casual hookup with them if you choose

Have a ...dream?

Have a memory

Talk with your mom and Bug if you didn't last night

Get ready for breakfast and set some more details about yourself

Vardah-mancers - get fed sweets in front of a crowd if you choose

Have a fraught but informative breakfast

Silas-mancers - have some alone time with him that can involve drinking (just Silas or both of you), talking about the bombshell reveal about his family, and a kiss if you choose

Artists and Accountants - talk to (...with?...) Crownie if you choose

Artists - enjoy your second day of work, talk with Hunter, and admire one of Xavier's normal works of art

NOTE - if you are flirting with Silas, you will automatically go with him for his solo scene.

I didn't get as much done as I'd hoped, but I'm proud with what we have gotten done! Silas' solo scene was so fun to write - I'm looking forward to the other characters' scenes

What's coming up next

Finishing up the work paths

Nadia's solo scene (agressive and/or steamy based on your choices)

Dinner with the Inner Circle

Phone-related spookiness

Annika's solo scene (sugar-sweet)

A kiss for the Jordan-mancers

A surprise visit from a beloved little girl 🦋

I hope you enjoy your holiday season and the new year! I do expect to be writing and sharing snippets on Patreon, but I am probably going to be a bit quieter on Tumblr while I work on finishing up Chapter 3.

Much love to you all 🧡

xoxo, Daisy and Chain