#and don't know if any of my ideas make any sense

[voidpacifist]

viktor headcanons

[modern-ish edition + meljayvik because I cannot resist, also I'm desperate to see more unhinged little ideas about him outside of being everyone's favorite blorbo. we should fear that man and this is my thesis]

learned a weird amalgamation of martial arts and self defense as a kid due to growing up in zaun. despite being in what was considered the "safer" part of the underground, his mother worried he wouldn't be safe on his own. his core strength and arm strength are absolutely ridiculous

in fact, one time he was hooking up with a fellow academy student, and by the time the whole affair was over with, he was hardly breaking a sweat while the other person was trying to catch their breath. he became somewhat of a local legend at frat parties because not only can he wear someone out for hours but, allegedly, he's real freaky with it too

knows the exact monetary value of different human body organs on the black market. whether or not this is from experience is something jayce and mel are unable to determine. vi is also knowledgeable of this and has traded tragic backstories with him in detail

has had to kill a man before, and tells this to jayce frequently to win petty arguments (jayce never actually believes him, even though it is fully and one hundred percent true). it doesn't work on mel

jayce and mel have a secret chart written of how many substances viktor has tried and with how much frequency. weed is at the top of the list, with alcohol being shockingly low. in spite of coming from a slavic background, viktor didn't learn how to hold very much liquor without feeling ill, but for some reason is fine with the illicit psychedelics that grow naturally in the undercity near the runoff tunnels. so far the list is nearly half a page long

will not hit anyone with his mobility aids but will ABSOLUTELY find ways to blackmail and hustle his way out of embarrassment. he learned the blackmailing skill from mel, and frequently looks to her for information since she somehow knows the most about the student body

extremely morbid sense of humor. jokes about being fatherless/motherless behavior and then hits you with, "I would know :]." mel is an honorary member of the motherless behavior banter, considering her own mother disowned her shortly before she came to piltover

taking care of one another is equal parts give and take with him, jayce, and mel, but it's never in a way that demeans each other or exploits each other's weaknesses. for example, viktor hates being carried or manhandled without consent and finds it incredibly patronizing if someone assumes he needs help without just asking him (common sense, but the student body is full of ableist sharks). if he's having a bad pain day or is finding it hard to move, he and jayce (or he and mel, depending on time and place) have a system for getting him to or from somewhere without drawing much attention and even have specific "I need help but don't want to be stared at about it" phrases

father's half of the family is slavic and mother's half of the family is romani. cannot follow a recipe unless it has specific measurements, but can improvise ANY stew or potato based dish with little more than his nose and a few kitchen tools. jayce can improvise any dish, but will always somehow overdo the spice if it calls for spice. mel is happy to try any and everything they make (on her birthday, she's spoiled with their attempts at making the ethnic food from her family, and she'll never tell them but she's very touched by their efforts)

owned ONE pet in his life and it was a hamster. instead of freaking out over it's death, he studied it's body post mortem until his father declared it a biohazard and forced him to dispose of it

learned most of his chemists knowledge from a disgraced former academy professor, but taught himself everything else he knows (if he couldn't get access to it in school). including, for fun, how to preserve and analyze body parts. he initially wanted to be a surgeon or biomedical engineer, but then stuck with chemistry (specifically regarding infectious diseases) to try and find a cure for the grey

shows up randomly at jayces or mels dorms at strange hours in the evening/morning. the first time he showed up at mel's, she thought a burglary was being attempted. he made it out with a bad knock to the head, but she did make him tea in the aftermath as an apology (he hated it but drank the whole thing anyway)

gets stoned with jinx on the weekends, since she's the only one who can find him good, ethically sourced weed. he pays her back by teaching her things he's learning and researching at the academy

meljayvik + caitvi + timebomb dates but they have to find a way to rent out the whole place because each and every one of them has Some Kind of History with the other academy students even though jinx and ekko are still a couple years shy of college age

viktor threw up at the distinguished innovators competition because jayce did first. it was a whole disaster. they spent hours after the ordeal hyping each other up on gatorade and pure adrenaline. it was the physically worst jayce has ever felt around viktor but far from the worst viktor has ever felt around jayce. this was just days after the two of them met mel, and she spent the rest of the evening forcing them to sleep or eat something that wasn't "pure chemicals." somehow, this ended in a heated debate between herself and viktor about the validity of gatorade as a substantial meal. he still refuses to admit he lost

I've said this before and I'll say it again: he has a closet full of ramen. mel takes from his stash often

can run on caffeine and very little sleep to the point where he is physically incapable of resting like a normal human being without feeling drained. flu season is absolute hell

showed up to one of his lectures shirtless once because he was in a hurry. fed everyone who looked at him funny the most outrageous sob story about how "weak" he was, then laughed about it with mel and jayce like an absolute sociopath for days about it. jayce did not find it altogether very funny. mel and him still joke about it

beat vi in an arm wrestling contest before he got sick. still almost beat her after his diagnosis too, but still took the betting money anyway. she'll never admit she's slightly terrified of him, but it shows

can wield many different kinds of knives but is terribly clumsy when it comes to other weapons like clubs and swords and staffs. tapped out of adaptive sports within his first week because it was "boring him." spent the next month teaching martial arts to his fellow disabled peers until the board made it an official extracurricular

turned sky down in the nicest but most insane way possible. nobody knows what happened or how, just that they ended up spending MORE time together after the fact and that it involved illicit activities. the rumors were insufferable for weeks. and wildly funny

(please feel free to add more, I'm gonna start a collection)

[thewitchblue]

"I told you not to touch that."

You had warned a very curious Tim repeatedly. This one wasn't anything harmful. You simply didn't want him touching your potions. It was a very annoying potion to make.

You had left it boiling on a burner while you got a snack, but Tim shut off the burner to touch your half-baked potion. You had no idea how long he's had it off the burner, but it wasn't boiling anymore.

"What does it do?"

He didn't have the guts to do anything but hold the boiling hot beaker. At least, not in front of you. He felt like he was a kid caught with his hand in the cookie jar.

"It was SUPPOSED to be a present for Jason, jackass. Now it's ruined."

You aggressively took the breaker from Tim and borderline slammed it down on your windowsill. You stormed over to your burner and turned it on again. Maybe you can salvage it. It had stopped boiling because Tim was too curious for his own good.

"Oh."

Tim looked embarrassed. You didn't bother to tell him it was liquid weed, so Jason could stop stinking up the manor when he smokes.

You were sick of getting accidentally drugged because Jason left brownies out without a "do not eat" sign. You think Jason secretly likes drugging people, but there was an unspoken agreement: shut up and leave the drugged person alone.

You were hoping this potion would get him to go to you instead of some shady drug dealer, but Tim doesn't need to know any of this. This is between you and Jason.

"Do me a favour and never touch my stuff. My next potion won't be so friendly."

You grumbled. You were the family witch. Yes, the stereotypical potions and general magic. You learned from Constantine and Zatanna how to use spells, but potions are where you shine.

You are called The Alchemist at night and are feared mainly due to how prepared you are. You had a potion for anything and everything.

The villains actively avoid you as a result of your preparation. You're seriously more prepared and paranoid than Batman in a lot of cases.

Scarecrow is the only one salty enough to go after you. He wanted you as an apprentice, but he's not getting anywhere by kidnapping you on the occasion. Come on, just give him one potion that he can replicate if he can't have you on his side!

Joker found you boring, Bane doesn't want to tango when you take away his muscles with a potion, Ra cares more about physical combat, and the list goes on. It's ridiculous, truly.

You were actually quite close to Poison Ivy, however, and she supplies you with various plants for you to use. You even send her photos to update her on how the plant is blooming with a thank you text (yes, you have her number, score!)

Being a Wayne helps with the potions as well. You can get you an endless supply of various metals, chemicals, and powders to work with alongside the plants. You often question if you are on a government list somewhere. It doesn't look good to order 15 kilograms of gunpowder and potassium nitrate.

The family doesn't know any of this, but then again, they don't know much about what you do. They rarely ask questions about your potions except nosy Tim, who refuses to leave your room until he knows more about whatever potion you are making at the time.

"I was curious!"

He tried to defend himself, which failed as you retorted,

"And you could have had your finger dissolved if you touched it! For the brains of the family, you really are stupid."

Does he have no sense of self-preservation? Why on earth would he touch a mysterious liquid? Survival of the fittest indeed.

Tim scoffed. How else is he supposed to find out more information if he knows nothing about the process? You had all your potions memorised! No recipe book, no paper trail, you even have a witch/magic users pack between Zatanna and Constantine, so they won't tell the family anything. He can't even identify all the plants you use so he could test them.

"You're lucky I make weapons for you guys. Some of this stuff takes weeks! I have 9 of you guys running around, using MY supply because you guys don't use your potions wisely. What if I needed the paralysing potion for Bane, but uh-oh, you stole it from me, so I can't do anything."

Tim had no excuse. He's, admittedly, stolen more than a handful of potions to reload his weapons, and he's not the only one. He tried to smooth over your irritation. In a nervous tone, he said,

"I'm sorry. I would be surprised if you didn't notice the missing potions, though."

Damn right, you'd notice it. What kind of alchemist would you be if you didn't notice your missing stash and resupply? Granted, you also have the power of bullshit spells that you learned from John and Zatanna, so you aren't entirely helpless, but it's annoying reaching for an imaginary potion on patrol and needing to trudge all the way home just to restock.

"I think you need to keep your hands to yourself. I might have to redo this potion now. Please tell me you didn't touch the potion itself."

You wouldn't know how to handle a high Tim Drake. You tried to keep your eyes on him while putting your potion back on the burner. Is the weed in his bloodstream, or are you safe to continue your drug cooking?

He gave an awkward smile. He may or may not have smelled the potion. It smelled like a freshly mowed lawn, and the tiny sip he took tasted like an apple. When all you got was silence, you groaned and said in disbelief,

"Oh, fuck, of course you did."

Just your luck. The drug will hit Tim any second now. You ran a stressed hand through your hair before turning to him and saying sternly,

"You are going to sleep on my bed and let the potion run its course. Do. Not. Leave. This. Room. Got it?"

Tim looked confused, but what does he know about magical potions? If you say let it work through him, he'll follow instructions. He sat on your bed and then it hit him.

"Woah, what the hell did you do to me? Were you trying to lace Jason with something?"

You frowned and physically pushed him onto the bed. You quickly swaddled him like a baby in a sea of blankets.

He can not leave this room. Bruce would murder you. You were supposed to be the good one. The only one who caused no problems (to their knowledge).

"Tim, look at me."

Tim did not, in fact, look at you. He was distracted by all the plants you have in your room. Did someone drop off more plants in the time he's last been in here?

"Did you get more plants?"

You huffed. You didn't. They have only grown since he's been snooping in your room. You tried to get his attention by snapping your fingers and calling his name,

"Tim?"

When he continued to look around with rapidly reddening eyes, you squished his face in your hand and forcefully pushed his face until it faced you.

"Tim, you are going to sleep. I'm going to play some music for you and we are going to forget all about this when you feel better."

You can make a potion to erase recent memories. Tim can't know you are making drugs in your room. Nobody can know except Jason.

You decided to turn on some calming music in hopes he would drift off, which seemed to be working as his eyes drooped, and he smiled at you like he knew something you didn't. He was lost in his thoughts, clearly.

You wondered what was going on in that big brain of his. It didn't matter. He can blaze in blissful peace while you deal with his mess.

You kept the music quiet and soft like he was at a spa. You hoped the combined warmth of the blankets with the soft music would work faster.

With a sigh, you stood up from your position at his bedside. This is not good. Tim needs to learn when to leave your stuff alone. What if you boiled his blood or poisoned him? It's best to leave the witchcraft to the witch.

You watched him like a hawk. His thoughts seemed to be slowed and sluggish. You supposed you can bottle your potion after all. Should you put a dropper on it? Normally, your potions soak through the skin and clothes, but you were extremely careful with this one.

You gave his forehead a small kiss once he fell asleep. You went to your bottles while shaking your head in disapproval. You were very happy with the results of the potion, not so much with the tester. You would hate to think about what could have happened if you didn't swaddle him. Would he be walking around high and babbling about funny potions? Probably. He was already hallucinating pleasantly by the time he passed out.

You were so lucky that Tim didn't get the potentially dangerous symptoms. You can handle a mellowed out Tim, but not if he was going through psychosis.

After successfully bottling and hiding the potion, you pulled out one of your memory potions.

You felt bad drugging him then making him forget about it, but you can't have him telling anybody, whether accidentally or purposefully.

You know you could just tell Bruce that Tim touched a memory potion on your burner, and he'd believe you, but why draw in the eyes of Batman? He would want to know about all future potion making.

You frowned as you put one drop on his forehead and watched it sink in. He won't remember any of this.

You were a bit overprepared, but you were Batman and Constantine trained. Of course you'd have some weaselly way out of accidentally drugging someone.

Oh, John would be so proud of you.

[kix-mm]

A once cruel God. Pt.5

Previous - Next

Amber glanced nervously up at Victor, still unable to look at the young god properly without fear. He had been tasked with the impossible: helping Victor become a better person... whatever that meant. He didn't understand why now of all times he wanted to change as a being, was it to give the illusion of humanity? To lure the innocent people who didn't know any better into a false sense of security? To trick Amber into believing that he really wanted to change for the better just to have his way? Whatever it was, Amber was reluctant to let his guard down.

"Why?" Amber asked this time. If Victor really was trying to be as transparent as he claims, then surely he wouldn't get upset if Amber wanted to know why? He wondered how long Victors patients would last with his latest little game. "Why do you want to become a better person - a better being? Why do you suddenly care about what I think?"

Victors eyes widened a little, and he sat up straight. He had never seen Amber so determined to figure something out. He couldn't help but smile a little... Amber asked him a question, and that was good, right? Progress! It was just... the question he asked stumped him a little. "Well..." Victor began, but was a little lost for words. "I... you know my feelings for you run deep, and when you left I... I felt lonely, so I began studying the human language, so we could talk when you returned, but as I began understanding more... the worse I felt, I knew I was feared, but I never quite understood what it was until I began to try and collect the other humans I had released..." Victor stopped for a moment, biting his lip as tears began to form. He remembered everything, every little detail...

"Amber... I never meant to be a bad person, I had no idea that you felt pain, I never... nobody ever told me that what I did to you was so awful." he lays his forehead on the nightstand. "I don't expect you to forgive me, I don't deserve forgiveness for my ignorance, but I want... I want to repay you for everything I took, I know I can't, and I'm... so, so sorry... but let me at least try"

Amber listened, so he would have been brought back here regardless... he was a little surprised that Victor had studied the human language because he felt lonely, not ever even considering that Victor could feel that way because... well, it was Victor. But then came the tears, the apologies, the acknowledgment that he never even knew what he was doing to everyone, he was like a very young child playing with his toys, or at least mistaking the humans for such.

The way Victor was acting now felt too genuine. It even got Amber emotional, was... was this real? Was Victor truly apologizing and trying to become better because of his mistakes? Amber wanted to believe it was real. He wanted it to be the truth... but he was too afraid to believe him.

"Amber?" The human flinched, whiping away the tears the best he could. "y-yes, my lord?" Victor frowned, reaching over and cupping the human's cheek gently with his fingers. "I'm sorry, I never meant to make you cry... I can feel your doubts about my will to change, but I promise I'll do everything in my power to prove I will become better, please, lend me your faith, even if it's the final time, I need your strength"

Amber froze. Faith? Was this what it was all about? If he were to do so, he'd be going back on his own words, on his promise to himself that he'd never trust another deity with his faith again. "I-I'm sorry, Victor... I can't, I've made a promise, and I plan to stick by it." As he spoke, he braced for impact, expecting this to be the last straw... but at least he would have kept that promise he made to himself.

Victor felt his heart sink a little, knowing deep in his heart that this was justified and feeling disgusted with himself that there was a part of him that was... disappointed that Amber didn't want to rekindle old flames... how could he ever ask something like this after all this time? How arrogant must he be to dare ask the very person he hurt to give him his faith... I am a horrid being.

"Selfish..." Victor mumbled. Ambers curled tighter, whimpering, expecting his last moment to happen any second now, and Victor immediately caught on. "Ah- n-no Amber, not you, please, don't worry, I wasn't... talking about you." he wore the face of guilt, reaching over and cupping his hands around the human but being careful not to lift or cover him. "I'm sorry, I was the one being selfish for asking you that question, I'm not upset at you in the slightest - oh, please stop trembling... it's alright"

Amber remained in his position, his hand over his head as the rest of him tried to curl up as tight as possible. Until he decided to peek up at Victor, who had... vanished? Amber sat up, and right in front of him was a human sized Victor, well- a little tall for a human, but one nonetheless.

Victor gave a sheepish smile. "I thought... you might be a little less afraid if I was smaller... do.. do I look alright?" Amber stared at Victor. He hadn't shrunk down in ages. The last time he saw Victor like this, the two were still children, and it resulted in Amber needing stitches because Victor tried ripping out his organs to eat...

"Y-yeah I just... I'm not used to seeing you so..." small? Easy to see? Not to mention that I forgot that gods don't usually wear clothes... and Victor now suddenly felt so much closer. He suddenly realized Victor was pressing his bare body against Ambers for a hug. It was a kind gesture, but one that Amber wasn't all too comfortable with was this just so Victor could touch Amber, or was this... genuine?

[cipheramnesia]

I want to be eaten by worms and grubs instead of fungus. If I'm consumed by fungus it will probably be mold, and might not have the palate to appreciate my corpse.

Mycology is an incredibly diverse and complex field. Sadly I am not well versed in it, and not qualified to answer questions about mushroom genetics. Unfortunately I also do not have strong beliefs about the innate transitive power of animal consumption. I don't think animals or humans have any innate transformations, beyond the normal processes of digestion, caused by eating other living things.

The idea is beautiful though. What if we really did carry with us everything in the world we consumed? In a broad metaphorical sense we do of course, because we eat things to get the chemicals that physically build our body and literally transmit our thoughts. That doesn't happen because a molecule of sodium doesn't carry memories, unless you develop a purely speculative and scientifically unsupportable notion that molecules in animals somehow become quantumly entangled, but that still breaks down because that's not really what quantum entanglement does anyway. So, it can't happen, but imagining it is pretty for the most part. I'm philosophically prejudiced against the idea of cannibalism generally conferring special transfer of power or memories, because that comes from like some really specific stuff that I don't know enough about to dig into. And aside from all that, I think cannibalism as upper class elitism is less interesting than cannibalism as the hunger of disenfranchised groups.

However, I know a lot of people that would give human flesh a taste if offered, so I would let people eat however much of me they can, safely and / or legally. If I can do nice things for my friends, I enjoy doing it, even if I'm dead at the time.

My comfort in death is actually identical to my fear. I'll cease to exist. No more me, forever. No afterlife, no memories traveling through space. I mean, people will have some of me as memories, but the person I am contained unto myself is gone. I wish I could see more than whatever my lifetime will be. I would take immortality in an instant, just to see what happens.

But when I'm gone, I'm gone. And that also means everything in my head that I wish wasn't there goes with me, which is a relief as well. No more depression, no anxiety, no worries, no fears, no struggle. It will be quiet. That's comforting. I'd like as much of the noise as I can ever have, don't get it twisted, but the idea of that quiet makes me happy, like one day I'll be done.

It would be cool if my body ends up somewhere that grows lichen, because I want people to make jokes about it when I'm dead. People standing over my grave marker or whatever going "I guess she took A LIKIN' to this spot" is the kind of thing I would enjoy happening after I'm dead. I wish I could die a comedic death. Nothing would be better than to go out with people laughing uproariously at my ridiculous passing.

Anyway, does anyone reading this know about mushroom decomposition efficiency, or general fungus decomposition efficiency? What's up with that?

The idea that fungus experiences true sentient thought, but in a way that the rest of us cannot understand, is a kind of comfort to the inevitability of death and rot, to know that what consumes our corpse may in someway carry a memory onward with it.

[bibibbon]

Now it's not about one of my wips. So ...I stumble a post here talking how Dabi was this close to became a Nomu, how dabi knows what Nomu are (maybe he is not well versed but it's not out of pocket he would know what is a Nomu) and ...how he may know how afo doesn't give a shit about shig(the last one is just common sense) and it makes me think...

Dabi has so many reasons to hate shig. Shig who gives nomus uncaring and willy nilly and use them as a weapon ...could make dabi think of endy (oooh no one would ever think that, but think this way Toya is a toy/project Endy created and tossed aside...shig does the same with the nomus)

I love them as frenemies....but Dabi has legit reasons to not like Shig...and I dont even think, in shipping sense, a hate sex situation would cut out.

If dabi wasn't suicidal...I think he could steal shig's position, kick him to the curb and...maybe killing the remain nomus as a mercy killing ( the last one is just an idea. Dabi is a villain, but before hori made him "the lil devil" to justify Endy...I think it was possible for him...to do that)

So ...imagine an au where Dabi does that. Shiga lost everything, and Dabi wins bc he is smarter.

This is not motivated by any bashing feelings. I like shig but possum doesn't give a shit to nomus, Kuro or anything else...he is a npc ...so maybe if he had to struggle and pull himself on his feet, without any plot device ...maybe the character could grow.

Hi @mikeellee 👋

It is true that dabi was incredibly close to becoming a nomu, considering that AFO literally retrieved his dying body and put him in one of the controlled hospitals where they kept kids there to turn them into another shigaraki puppet or a nomu.

From what we get in chapter 350 from Dr garaki, I don't think Dabi fully knew the inner workings of how Nomu's are made but I do think that he knew that Nomu's were once humans that were experimented on. Personally, I believe that the first time Dabi heard about Nomu's was probably rumours from the street of people commenting on how the ruler of the underground has created living puppets.

Dr garaki admits that Dabi by the time he left the hospital knew more than he let on, he knew what the hospital was for, knew what the hospital meant what they were selling to him, what they wanted to make him become and he rejected that. I believe that a part of him rejected that because he wanted to go back, he wanted to prove that touya is indeed alive, he wanted to reach for his family's embrace, to apologise to his mother, to earn validation from his father yet all of that crumbles the minute he sees what enji is doing to shoto. Touya dies, and dabi is born living only through sheer hate and determination for revenge.

Ultimately, I believe that the moment dabi meets Dr. garaki a second time, he is now fully aware of the origins of the nomu and has completely understood and solved the hospital case. He realises that everything is connected and he hates it.

By extension, he would hate shigaraki or completely dislike him for his ignorance. After a while he would also figure out that shigaraki is just a pawn in the grand scheme of things and I think (due to dabi's already toxic beliefs like victim blaming) he would grow to hate shigaraki even more. However, I do imagine that other emotions would grow something akin to pity as he sees shigaraki trying to break out of the mould just to fully fall into AFO's trap. Maybe dabi grows to hold a tiny ounce of care, trying to indirectly deter shigaraki from doom, but again, that's neither here nor there.

Also, I agree heavily with you that if Dabi wasn't suicidal then he would probably rebel on a larger scale, taking over and becoming a new leader. However, dabi is a man full of hate. That's the only reason he is alive. He is a man out of time, a man who is slowly dying with one goal in mind : revenge.

[thewistlingbadger]

In the Arcane fandom we've discussed in length about blame and fault and "where things went wrong." Over the years we've tried to pinpoint the exact moment "things went wrong" we've talked about all sorts of hypotheticals and we've come to the conclusion that the events of arcane were avoidable but inevitable. Silco would have taken Jayce's deal had it not been for the Jinx Clause in it, but Jinx is the only reason Jayce offers him the treaty in the first place. If Jinx didn't steal the hex gem, then Jayce would have never became a councilor, vi would have never gotten out of Stillwater, and she would have never met Caitlyn. We like to think that had certain things not have occurred, things could have been different. Maybe things would have been different had the kids not went on that job, had Jinx stayed home, etc. But ultimately, even if certain actions hadn't been taken, similar results would have been occured. Silco was going to strike regardless of what happened, tragedy would have occurred anyways. It's a devastating and beautiful truth of arcane.

Which is why I just can't get behind episode seven of Arcane's second season. Its nature completely dismisses this aspect of the first season that was a key part of what made Arcane, Arcane. Episode 7 not only ignores the fact that "actions have consequences", it ignores the potential avenues those consequences have, and it ignores the idea of choice entirely.

Episode seven explores an alternate timeline where Vi died in the heist that occurred in the first episode of the series. This is a possibility I don't think anyone in the fandom has ever considered, it just seems so random. This is a change in the universe that is based on the chance that Vi was too close to the explosion and not the choice that she made to partake in the heist in the first place. We then see that several things in the AU are completely different than the actual timeline of Arcane. We see that Mylo and Jinx get along well, that Jinx and Ekko are dating, that Zaun and Piltover are at peace, that Silco and Vander have reconciled. But we're never shown how these changes came to be, what inspired them. This is once again is an erasure of choice. There were so many AUs they could have given us to explore the potential consequences of the characters' actions and the characters themselves. AUs that would have probably been more interesting and more insightful and could have furthered character development and also, would have just made more sense. I struggle with the fact that episode seven explores a "everything is good" au and NOT a "what if" au, when there's so many potential "what ifs" season one established.

As is, it doesn't make sense that Vi's death would result in the positive reunion of silco and Vander or the peace between the two cities. But imagine if this was a what if au instead. What if the au we got was an au where Vander agreed to fight with Silco in episode three? What if the au was an au where Ekko never gave them the tip about Jayce? What if it was an au where Felicia never died, or an au where the brothers never split? Any of these aus would have been super interesting and would have made more sense given the results we see in episode seven.

Particularly, I think it would have been very good to explore an au where Ekko never gave the tip. As is, we actually don't know much about Ekko and his character, who he is. Had they gone with this au, they could have explored Ekko's potential guilt for giving the tip. But as is, episode 7 doesn't actually explore Ekko's characters, despite the fact that he's the main character of this episode. We don't learn anything new about Ekko in this episode. He starts the episode wanting to go home and that stays the same the entire time.

Episode seven really just eliminates any choice in my eyes it just seems like things just magically click into place, which is so disappointing for a show like Arcane. This was the perfect opportunity to explore actions/consequences and instead they opted out for randomness and chance instead.

[tubbytarchia]

I know your main is smallidarity but what are your thoughts on smalletho? Asking because I'm smalletho main but all the stuff you smallidarity fans create is so lovely that I know ship them too. Wondering what it's like for you guys. Have a nice day!

HIII I like Smalletho!! But you might not be a fan of how I regard it personally haha. To be honest I'm a little bit terrified of smalletho fans because of the specimens I have encountered and heard of so please don't burn me at stake...

I primarily view it as mostly one-sided. This makes more sense if you know of my thoughts about Joel being closeted and combative/troubled at the idea of being into men. He's been weird about Jimmy for a damn long time but he's never enacted on those feelings past jokes he proclaims not to be taken seriously. And then he's put together with this Etho guy in DL, soulbound to him, and because he's all weird he develops a crush and acts more questionably around him and more impulsively in general. And I think Etho would have picked up on it but he's. Etho. His response to everything is oh snap

Etho did do a callback during SL as if he were reminiscing, and he engaged with the "neck kisses" bit and some other less egregious ones, but Joel draws much more attention to Etho and the obsession claims. In fact the neck kisses thing started with Jimmy and yet Joel attached it entirely to Etho and comments on it either to make Etho sound weird or to make a slightly more rowdy joke than usual (Joel is plenty weird with his homoerotic jokes but this one is notably more intimate in a physical sense, as opposed to emotional. Not even the babymaking in ESMP2 compares because he acted like a clown who's never heard of sex before for those). Hmm strange behavior to have chosen to do that... I think Joel's become less insane and mostly gotten over his crush but clearly still likes Etho and Etho likes him too, but in a less weird way. His regard for their relationship to me is so well exemplified by the interaction where Jimmy went "Joel called me babe earlier" to try and prod him and Etho gives the most nonchalant "oh snap" known to man in response. He loves a little tomfoolery though so he entertains the banter

Joel just imo acts so weird about him half the time and then completely deadpan the rest of the time, compared to Jimmy who he has also been really weird about but also grown more comfortable with (but only very slightly because he is a loser) in regards to his feelings. I just think contrasting them brings out my reasoning better haha. I like smalletho as a ship in general and I really like their dynamic, but Etho in more of a mentor role (not that he's teaching much of anything but the experience Joel had with him has probably helped Joel become less homophobic about himself). It's similar to what I also really like about Bdubs and Joel, where I'm not sure I really see it as a romantic dynamic but they're definitely not normal about each other by any stretch of the imagination

[officially-other]

I feel the need to offer solidarity about gender confusion, even though we don't have the words to put our experiences into yet. But hell if I can't try!

Our identity host is transmasc. He's a man, "With a little extra that most men don't experience." Turns out that was his Alterhumanity. Most men don't happen to also be dragons.

But then there's us. I (Malaika), for starters, am... woman-adjacent. Our collective is primarily masculine as far as we know so far, but I'm distinctly not. that doesn't mean I'm a woman though. I look the same, even use mostly she/her pronouns although I do like the idea of some 'it' mixed in too, and hell most of the time I seem to just be that. A woman. But there is something hidden, something too different. I'm not a woman. I wear the mask of one, and I even find euphoria in it, because those undertones are meant to be undertones. I don't think my gender is something I want people to be able to pin down.

We have people who want to try out neopronouns. We have Charlie, who only uses it/its because. We have Trixie, the only other woman-adjacent of us, who knows she's something more than a woman but hasn't much bothered to look into it. Venti fits into the box of "guy/man/boy/whatever" the same way a cat fits into a box five sizes too small out of sheer spite and willpower. He thinks it's very funny.

This is just a description of the few who've bothered to explore gender as individuals. Despite our collective being "primarily masc," that doesn't mean gender is any less complicated amongst us. Maybe 1/4th of us use he/him only, and only a few of those are distinctly a man and only a man. Generally, most of us haven't looked into our own individual gender identities because... ugh, we have bigger problems, y'know?

Gender is complicated when it comes to plurality. Our syscovery is incredibly recent, but it's already made things make more and less sense all at once in regards to gender identity.

-Malaika

DID is fucking with my gender rlly bad and my friend said I should reach out so. Trans systems with complicated genders reblog so I know ur out there???

I would love to hear ur experiences bc I’m getting my ass kicked by gender

[gachagon]

Concerning your theory on Desmond protecting Eloise and knowing her from before the killing game, I think I found something that could be used as evidence for that.

During his introduction in chapter 0, Desmond phrases the fact he never killed anybody in a specific manner : he says

"I only practice on stationary targets. Moving targets are really outside my comfort zone. Believe me, I've never taken a human life."

He never denies having shot somebody, he only says that he never killed someone, and that he doesn't like moving targets.

That seems to be in accord with the theory that Desmond is protecting somebody from before the killing game, as a bodyguard might not have to do any murdering, simply incapacitating any threats.

As for who he protects, I think the scene where Desmond bring attention to the broken locks.

Eloise is quick to understand what Desmond is doing, defending his decision in front of everyone, saying

"I think I get what he's trying to say. You just want to everyone to be honest with each other... so we can cover all our bases... right?"

afterward, Eloise reacts to both Toshiko attempts to choose herself the pairs, and to Ingrid saying they should separate by gender.

While Desmond can keep his calm as it was already established that he was good staying composed, but Eloise, as is shown in her Free time events.

I would also like to hear your opinion on the theory that the organizers of the killing game are previous ultimates. I think we can prove two, and extrapolate two more.

I think Tozu is clearly the ultimate actor, or maybe playwright. He is quite theatrical, and he often makes literary references, from Horace to the bible. He also, in a Inner World (the scenes when Damon sleeps, taking the place of the monokuma theater), he said :

"that's what we in the industry like to call a "cliffhanger"."

Which implies he is from an industry that uses that term, so some form of media.

Mara is most likely an ultimate soldier, or similar, as she uses guns, and dresses similarly to Mukuro.

The two we can extrapolate don't have name, and one doesn't have any known talent.

The one we don't know anything about is the one mentioned in the Inner world about ships. Tozu mentions a "spindly boy with cream-colored hair". I think he is also part of the killing game organizer, even if we know nothing about him, simply because he is described physically.

The second we can extrapolate is the previous ultimate debater. In Wenona's Free time events, we learn that there was an ultimate debater before Damon, who was also more accomplished than him. I think he is part of the killing game organizers mainly because it would fit the theme, as a previous debater but with a more "important" or "real" talent than Damon.

Oh wow I did not think there'd be more evidence to support the idea of Desmond and Eloise being in some form of alliance, but the more clues people bring up the more I'm kind of convinced of it as well. I also noticed that when Desmond said he'd never "killed anyone", he didn't explicitly say he's never actually shot at a moving target, just that he's not that great at it (which I don't believe lol how could you be the Ultimate Marksman if you can't actually hit a moving target?)

However, I think the point in your second theory could have something to do with it. Damon mentions that nowadays the title of Ultimate is just "given to anyone" and has kind of lost it's meaning. And when you think about it, it makes sense when you really examine each character and how they use their talent. Damon is a debater, but he rarely uses it to argue for himself, choosing to instead use it to argue in favor of other people's points.

Eva was the Ultimate Mathlete, but she was clearly good at other things besides math. So if she wanted to, why didn't this Ultimate talent program give her a different title, or one that could encompass all of her actual talents?

Kai is the Ultimate Influencer, but a lot of the people there don't recognize him at all.

Ulysses is the Ultimate Historian but he doesn't even remember everything, and has to write most of it down.

They all are stuck with a talent but either aren't as great at it as you'd expect, or have something holding them back from really excelling in said talent. I wonder if this Killing Game is being put on by truly great Ultimates who lost their titles to the current cast of characters? Imagine you work hard for god knows how long to get recognition, but you lose it all because some kid who's not even that great at it becomes better anyways lol

And from the way Eva described it, being an Ultimate really dictates how people see you in this society. She wrote a lot of papers on other subjects but they were all ignored because "She's the Ultimate Mathlete" and that's all.

[elcor-thespian]

Hi again! What do you have for 19 from the kiss prompt?

19. Kisses meant to distract the other person from what they were doing.

This prompt is getting answered with Nephele and Lucanis, and includes mentions of my other ocs. You don't really have to know anything about them for it to make sense. Also, this is a one-shot idea I've had for a minute, so it's kind of long. Please enjoy this soft silly fun.

Kiss Ask. Please send more!

The first thing Nephele noticed when she woke up was the crick in her neck, and the sharp jab in her side. Then the feel of a warm body, rising and falling slowly with breath. Also, a cold, hard surface. The floor? Then the sound of faint snoring, soft clanking of...something metal in the distance, and....eggs. That's what that smell was. It was eggs.

She definitely didn't want to open her eyes. Opening her eyes was the enemy. She also definitely didn't want to move. Moving was also the enemy.

Can you have two enemies? ... That's dumb, of course you can. You literally fight multiple enemies all the time. Get it together.

She made a minimal effort to roll over. Nope, pain, bad. Nausea? Unclear. She then tried to curl her legs up (it's fucking freezing in here) but she hit something solid instead.

There was a movement next to her, and the pressure in her side intensified. Reluctantly, she slowly opened one eye, just enough to figure out what was stabbing her.

The first thing to catch her attention was an unruly mop of blonde hair. Aleksei. Why was Aleksei here? She opened her eye a little more for more context. Her friend was sprawled out across her legs, with his head on Brenna's stomach (oh hey, Brenna's here), and his feet on Konstantin's lap. Konstantin.....she opened her eye all the way and turned her head to see the rest of the Qunari, fully asleep sitting up, head tilted back and snoring. It took her a second to realize she was also sitting up, leaning in to his side.

Ohhhh. Right.

She fully opened her eyes now, and the jigsaw pieces of her memories of the night before started to take shape.

The pain in her side was Konstantin's elbow. On his other side, with her head on his lap was Nasreen, curled in to a tight ball. Elspeth was fully spooning Brenna, who had pulled a couch cushion on top of her face to block out light in the middle of the night. Craning her head up she saw Paloma on the couch, her arm draped over the side next to a bottle of wine that must have fallen over sometime in the night.

And next to that was another bottle of wine. And another. And look, there were some over there. And didn't we start by drinking beer anyway? And I definitely was doing shots of whiskey at some point. I definitely remember there being a drinking contest. Pretty sure Brenna won. Pretty sure Konstantin threw up.

But that was in the music room, and this was....definitely the kitchen. Yep, going with kitchen. When did we move to the kitchen?

"About twenty minutes after Emmrich threw you out of the library."

Oh shit. I said that part out loud.

Extremely reluctantly, Nephele started to extricate herself from the pile of hungover bodies. She tried to grab on to the couch to help pull herself up, but missed and grabbed Paloma's arm. She didn't seem to notice.

"Oh fuck me," she grunted, rising up to a standing position, briefly tripping over Aleksei who groaned in protest. She heard a small clatter in the kitchen, and looked over to see Lucanis swearing in Antivan under his breath and grabbing a towel to clean up something he had knocked over.

Careful not to step on any more companions, she tip toed over to the counter, and saw not just eggs, but a variety of baked goods, cut fruit, oatmeal, bacon, and blessedly, coffee.

"Oh thank the Maker," she said, reaching for the pot. Lucanis beat her to it and moved it to the other side of the stovetop.

"First, water. Then coffee," he said, not taking his eyes off of the frying pan.

Nephele glanced at his workspace, which was littered with three or four half empty cups.

"Hypocrite," she teased, before grabbing the carafe of water. Was that juice? When did we get juice? Wait, did this mad man juice all of those oranges this morning?

"I am not the one who drank enough alcohol to fill the canals of Treviso last night," Lucanis retorted, glancing up at her with a teasing smile.

Fuck me. He's gorgeous.

Nephele ran her fingers through her hair to tuck it behind her ear, just to get it out of the way, and definitely not to make sure it wasn't sticking up in some awful way.

"I'm sorry if we were loud. I didn't mean for it to get that out of hand. I just thought it would be nice for the Birds to get to know each other better. You know, now that we're all in one place. Most of us have never actually met before now."

Lucanis plated up some of the eggs on a platter before adding some diced peppers to the pan. The aroma quickly changed into something far spicier. Oh I'm going to be sick.

"It wasn't that bad. I think Emmrich was more concerned about setting a good example for Manfred than anything else," He looked at her again before adding, "Not that you're a bad example."

Nephele laughed. "Oh, but I'm certainly a bad influence," she replied coyly, noting the way Lucanis' grip tightened on the spatula. She took a sip of her water, looking up at him through her eyelashes to see him with that far away look in his eye he got when Spite was talking. She waited for just a second to see if he would snap out of it on his own (also, this water is amazing. I never want to stop drinking this water).

"Does he agree?"

"Hmm?" Lucanis said, snapping back to their conversation, and remembering to flip the eggs just in time before they burned.

"Does Spite think I'm a bad influence?"

Lucanis chuckled, "No. Although, I'm not sure if that is comforting seeing that he is after all, a demon."

Nephele inched almost imperceptibly closer. "And what about you?"

Lucanis paused before grabbing some of the spices on the counter and adding them to the pan. "No, I don't think you are a bad influence. I think you are a good friend."

A moan wafted over from behind the couch. Someone else was waking up and was also firmly against it.

"Yeah, I'm sure everyone will be thinking about what a great leader I am while they're nursing their headaches and trying not to puke in Arlathan forest."

Lucanis poured a cup of coffee and put it next to her, adding cream and two sugars. He remembered, she thought, her heart twisting tighter than her stomach.

"I think that you looked at your team and you saw two issues. One: that everyone is new and doesn't yet trust each other, which could be deadly once we are in the field. And two: that everyone has been through a lot of stress lately, and desperately needed to release some of that tension. So, you found a solution to kill two birds with one stone."

He nodded towards the couch and leaned against the counter, "I don't think anyone would have expected to see any of these people cuddling on the floor two days ago." He paused to think before adding, "Well, maybe Aleksei. That one isn't surprising."

Nephele laughed again, louder than before. "I've seen him try to hug the Caretaker."

"They're friend shaped," they heard Aleksei mumble, before being silenced by Paloma hitting him with a pillow.

Lucanis and Nephele both giggled, and Lucanis returned to his eggs. Nephele loved the sound of his laugh. It didn't happen nearly often enough. She had to keep working on that.

"So we came in here and fell asleep?" she said, desperate to keep the conversation going.

"Not exactly," He said, reaching for a handful of spinach before adding it to the pan to wilt, " You all stumbled in here at about one o'clock in the morning, and started going through the cupboards, I can only assume looking for snacks. There was a lot of shushing and giggling. I think someone broke a chair."

Nephele looked over at the dining table, where one of the chairs was on its side and missing a leg. The memory came back to her immediately.

Elspeth tried to stand on it to see if Paloma could give her a piggy back ride.

"Weird, wonder how that happened," Nephele said nonchalantly, putting her empty water glass down and picking up her well earned coffee. She took her first sip and moaned in contentment, not missing the self satisfied look on Lucanis' face as she did so. "Then we went to sleep?"

"No, then you started telling stories about traveling with Varric. I couldn't hear them exactly, but from what I could tell at least half of them had to be made up."

Nope, they were all true. Weird shit just happens to Varric. She made a note to bring him some of the coffee when they were done. That way he wouldn't have to come all the way down here.

"And then...." Lucanis trailed off and Nephele wasn't sure if he was choosing his words carefully, if Spite was talking, or both. "I'm pretty sure you played spin the bottle."

Oh the bottle didn't just get knocked over. Actually yeah, that sounds right. No, I definitely made out with Nasreen. Which might have been her first kiss. Oops.

Nephele's brain caught up to the conversation now that she had a little caffeine in her system. "So wait, we were in here talking for hours, and you were just...awake? In the pantry?"

"In my room," Lucanis corrected, somewhat defensively.

"In the pantry." Nephele stated, holding her ground. We could at least put a real bed in there.

Lucanis shrugged and plated up the next round of eggs, putting it on the opposite side of the counter. Which was definitely a coincidence, and not an indicator that he had noticed that the smell was bothering her.

"Lucanis," she said gently, "Why didn't you come out?" He didn't answer, starting a fresh round of eggs, this one with onions and tomatoes. Holy shit, is he making everyone eggs to order?

"Seriously," she tried again, "We would have loved to have you join us."

"I don't think that would be a good idea." He said flatly, pointedly not making eye contact with her. She furrowed her brow.

"What, because of the alcohol? We wouldn't have made you drink if you didn't want to. I get that you might not want to risk it, what with Spite and all...."

There was a long silence where the only sound was the sizzle of oil in the pan, and Konstantin's snoring. Seriously, his neck is going to be so fucked when he wakes up.

"I don't want to make anyone uncomfortable," he stated, keeping his eyes on the pan. "I know that not everyone is thrilled at the prospect of an abomination on the team. I don't want to crash the party."

Nephele frowned sadly and tilted her head to catch his eye. "So, instead, you listened to everyone else have a good time, and then made us individualized hangover breakfasts."

"They're not individualized," he scoffed.

She pointed to a plate to the left of the tray of warm blueberry scones. "Who's eggs are those?"

"Brenna's," he answered without thinking.

"Mhm. And why are those Brenna's eggs?"

"Because she's Ferelden," he said, glancing up at her sheepishly. "They have extra cheese."

"They have three types of cheese by the look of it. Which you grated this morning. Somewhere between juicing the oranges, chopping the vegetables, brewing the coffee-"

"I was going to brew the coffee regardless," Lucanis said, stirring the pan and adding a pinch of chives from Harding's garden. "It wasn't that much extra trouble."

"Uh huh." Nephele said, looking down the counter and across the table at the piles of food. "My point is, we don't just keep you around to make eggs and stab things. We could always find someone else to stab a cloud. I happen to be pretty good at stabbing things myself."

Lucanis scoffed, and Nephele shoved him playfully in the arm.

"I'm serious! Lucanis...we keep you around because we like you."

Lucanis looked up at her, his eyes filled with such a strong emotion that she wanted to cry for him. He opened his mouth as if to say something.

"HOLY FUCK MY BACK," Aleksei shouted, before being drowned out by several groans and at least two more pillows being flung in his direction.

Nephele laughed. "Breaks over," she muttered to Lucanis. He smiled and returned to his cooking. Nope, not so fast.

"Hey Lucanis."

"Hm?"

Nephele reached across the stove to grab the closed bottle of olive oil, as well as Lucanis' attention. She placed it on its side on the counter in front of her and gave it a light spin. Lucanis' eyes followed it as she put a finger out to stop it right as the stopper pointed in his direction. With a smile she leaned over, placed her other hand on his back, and kissed him softly on the cheek, lingering just a second too long to be friendly. Through his vest she could feel him take a sharp inhale and hold it.

Perfect.

"What smells like burning?" Paloma groggily asked from across the room.

They both looked down at the ruined eggs.

"Mierda."

[voikiraz]

— ꒰ ∗ ִ ⍺lways ᧉven ᥒow ⠀ ꒱ [ k.dh ]

Lovers . donghyun x fem!reader ⠀𝑤. angst, breaking up w donghyun should be the biggest warning, hurt no comfort lolsies step ? #843 M.recordings [ lol, merry Christmas pookies ( for those who celebrate )]

syn. maybe it was just a story that was meant to end one way or another.

His heart squeezed tightly as he stared at the only light source in his dark room, his phone displaying a few words he didn't want to make sense of, he took a few seconds of heavy breathing until his fingers slid across the screen.

He can't run from this forever.

“Can you please call me when you have the time? We can't keep pushing this talk back donghyun”

A few taps on his phone and the ringing tone was making it’s way into his ears, making those few seconds take a much longer toll on him.

“Hey,” he heard your voice call out and his breath hitched.

He can't lie and say this was fully unexpected, he knew something was up. 

The way he was starting to forget the warmth of your touch, your gleaming smile that was only reserved for him, your soft voice that lulled him to places and feelings he could only ever dream of. 

It wasn't the same anymore and he knew that, your touch still lingers against his skin, but empty of any warmth that once used to soften his heart, your smile is pettyfull, reminiscing what could've been, your voice is firm and full of what ifs that were failing to leave your lips.

“Hi” his voice cracked, and you barely even heard him.

“Listen, i know you were expecting this and i know its so wrong of me, this isnt easy for me to say, i need you to know that you mean so much to me hannie and ill always care about you and ill love you no matter what, but you can feel it too leehan-” you sucked in a breath, trying not to let your emotions get the best of you. “We're moving in different directions and growing apart, and its not your fault, i'm not trying to play the blame game here you know that, but i think we both deserve to be with someone moving along with us, and growing with us and its eating me alive that i can't be that person for you anymore.”

He leaned against the table, feeling like if he kept pacing around the room his knees wouldn't hold up, your words echoing one by one through his mind and piercing through the air like sharp knives.

“I hope you know I'm doing this because you and I both know that it's what's right for us, maybe we won't understand that now but it's true.” You sounded composed but the soft sobs that were falling from your lips didn't fall on deaf ears, and leehan shut his eyes as tight as he could, thinking maybe it'll be over quicker that way. Maybe

Deep down he knew that it wasn't really anyone's fault, it was just life, but he never heard you sound this hopeless before, broken, and he just wanted to hold you, caress your hair and tell you that it's okay, he's there for you and nothing will ever make him leave your side. 

“I love you, i dont think I'll stop loving you any time soon, but for now, we can't be together donghyun.” You inhaled deeply, silence stretching for a few seconds before you hung up, you knew he wouldn't say anything, you could practically feel everything he wanted to say radiating to you from the end of the line.

You gripped your phone tightly as you just stared at the wall, too exhausted to move, blaming life for destroying what you could call a perfect life, you cried, and cried and you couldn't do anything but look down and let your mind wander.

Until you drifted off to a place where everything felt less heavy.

11:48 pm.

You got a message from ‘my hyunnie’ 

“you have no idea how much i love you and how much i care about you, i would do anything for you y/n, i've been trying to find the right words for hours, but i don't think any words can capture my feelings for you.

I dont want to let you go, i cant, i dont even know how to do that, i keep telling myself that it'll be okay but i cant help feeling like I'm losing a part of myself with you, maybe its selfish but you're my everything y/n and i’ll never let go of what we had even if it kills me, i keep wishing we would've found a way to make it work but i don't think this is our story anymore.

But i want you to know that even though things are changing, my love for you will never change, you were my whole world for so long, and i'll always remember that, i understand that we're moving apart and even though that's so hard to accept, i want you to be happy even if it means you won't be by my side, just know that i'll always carry you with me wherever i go, always.

Take care of yourself my love, i'll never stop loving you”

Kim donghyun

© voikiraz 2O24

[lamentationsofalonelypotato]

@zepskies

Merry Christmas to you too my wonderful friend!🎄💗

Aww poor Ben. I love how we start with shading in his past Christmases compared to what he's starting to experience now with the reader. We come at it from the same angle of headcanon, that Ben's mom was the only person who truly loved him in his family. So it was such a good detail that after she died, Christmases became just more of the same toxic/apathetic atmosphere with his father, compounded by the impact of his mom's death.

Thank you! I love this headcanon and I really hope that in the prequel series "Vought Rising" that we're able to see a little more of Ben's relationship with his father and hopefully let us learn more about his mother. I know that this headcanon is a little "dean-like" but I think it also kinda plays into the "angel in the house" phenomenon that started in the mid to late 1800s. But the headcanon to me, makes sense. Ben has so many issues with his dad and I honestly don't think that if his mother was around that Ben's father would give him such a hard time or allow Ben to grow up in that kind of enviornment.

I also wanted to give Ben some "happy" memories from his childhood that he could compare what the reader was doing for him to something that was familiar and something that resonated with him😊, something about Christmas that was "familiar."

Lmfao come on, Ben. Let's not take this out on others. 🤣

He is the KING of taking it out on others LOL 😂 He also takes it out on Hughie in this fic and I felt so bad doing that to Hughie, but it is so in character for Ben 😒

Wow, that's so interesting. Taking a trip literally through Memory Lane and walking through his family's mansion. I've never thought about that before, but I imagine it would be one of those things that Ben, for the longest time, couldn't bring himself to sell, but also couldn't visit. Like a mausoleum of his old life.

I use this headcanon in my other series Madness, (same with Ben's mother), but to me it seems to make sense. That Ben would have a family mansion somewhere that is full of terrible memories from his father being a total jerk to him and never wanted to set foot inside. "Like a mausoleum of his old life" EXACTLY! It's just a big drafty old house that Ben can't go into because even though he says he's not afraid of anything, he can still feel his father's disapproval and disappointment, and going "home" to where he grew up would only make it worse.

Ben doesn't know what a home is because of what his father did, and now the reader is slowly showing him what it means. I also low-key wanna write the fic of her and him coming back to his house and him being hesitant and her just wandering around in complete shock. 🤔

You're killin' me, friend!! 😭😭

Girl, I'm so sorry 😭😭😭 I had to 😂 It's really just pouring on the hurt and he just really loved his mom 😭

Lmaooo deeply relatable. I feel like it would be oh so funny to intentionally getting on his nerves (knowing he wouldn't hurt you). 😂

I knoooowwww. 😂 I love that about your BMD reader, that she isn't afraid to tease him and he just absolutely HATES it, but he loves her so he can't do anything about it and she knows it. I'll bet that he thinks the real problem is that she knows it LOL 😂

Oh, it's because he actually cares. 💗

He does, man is a total SIMP 😊

People want to think there aren't any good aspects to "traditional/old-fashioned" men, but for the men who are actually good men, traditional doesn't necessarily mean outdated or toxic, so thank you for including this tidbit.

Thank you! 😊 You're right, I think that there's a disconnect about the idea that a "traditional/old-fashioned" man can't be respectful and is always labeled "sexist" or "toxic." And it's wrong, because you can find a man who is respectful, forward thinking, and who has those "old-fashioned/traditional" values (CHIVALRY! 😂) that really translate into putting their girl first, being respectful of what she wants to say, trying to protect her (not because they don't think she can protect herself, but because they want to), and doing things for her (again not because they think she can't do it herself) but because they genuinely care about her. It's the difference between a man and a boy tbh 💅🏻

Her gift to him was so very sweet!! Of course she made him something heartfelt, and he appreciated it because it was a genuine "first" for him, having someone give him a hand-made gift from the heart. 💚💚💚

I know 💗, I really wanted the reader to make something for him, just so that he could again be reminded how much that she loves him and isn't staying with him just because it's convenient or because he's attractive or because she's settling. Also I like that you picked up on the "first" thing again, because that was exactly what I was trying to do lol 😊. It's hard to find firsts for a guy who's over 100 years old 😂

And his gift to her was absolutely perfect. 🥹 A keepsake from his mother? Him basically saying he wishes she could've met his girl? I'm dying of happiness from the sheer fluff. 😭💗

This one was extremely fluffy, but so fun to write! Ben getting her a gift that meant something so intimate to him that he wouldn't have given to anyone else in the past, really just made me melt when I wrote it 🥺 Because he's never wanted to share those pieces of himself with someone else and now he has the reader and I'm just *crying*😭. AND yes! Him saying that he would have brought her home to meet his mom just destroyed me 😭

This was a beautiful addition to the Take a Chance story, and kind of feels like an epilogue in a way, even though I know you're working on that one too. I loved this, friend!!

Thank you so much my wonderful talented friend! 🥰 It really does read like an epilogue and I did not notice that lol 😅

Pairing: Soldier Boy x f!reader, Reader POV, Soldier Boy POV and Reader POV

Summary:  All Soldier Boy wants for Christmas is to find the perfect gift for you and all you want is for your boyfriend to have the best Christmas he has in forty years. Reader is a supe with plant powers. (Takes place in my Take A Chance On Me Series- 4 months after they get together, but can be read as stand alone!)

Tropes: Established Relationship, First Christmas, Age Difference (Reader is in her 20s), Soft Ben/ Soldier Boy, Protective Ben/Soldier Boy

Word Count: 8.5K

Warnings: I'm going to label this 18+ because Soldier Boy (he's a warning and everyone knows it), Swearing, Mentions of Sex, Sexual Innuendo, Illusions to Sex, Fluff, Soft Soldier Boy, A little bit of self-deprecating thoughts, Soldier Boy is Mean to Hughie, Mention of drinking/drugs, Ben/Soldier Boy might be a little bit OOC.

Note: This is told from Reader's perspective. Any references to the reader is made using you or your. There is minimal use of y/n. I tried my best to proofread, but nobody's perfect. If you don’t like, don’t read, but if you do like, you’re my favorite!

Internal monologue is in italics and is in first person.

Take A Chance On Me Masterlist

Main Masterlist

Song Inspiration: Little Things By ABBA

A/N: I know I should be working on the epilogue of "Take a Chance on Me," but @zepskies wrote a lovely Christmas fic called 'Twas the Night for Dean Winchester, and it really just got me in a mood to write some Christmas Fluff! 🥰

Soldier Boy POV

Ben frowned at the delicate necklace laid on the black velvet cloth in front of him, the 10 carat diamonds catching in the brilliant lights that lined the ceiling of the jewelry store. It was the eleventh piece of jewelry that he'd asked the woman behind the counter to remove from the display case, and it still wasn't right.

Ben had waited until the last possible moment to go Christmas shopping. It wasn't because he'd forgotten or because he'd been so busy he hadn't had time to shop or because he'd been called away on a mission, but rather Ben kept putting it off because he didn't want to think about it.

It was his first Christmas back in the U.S, and it was already proving to be one so different than the ones he'd known before.

Christmas for him in his youth when his mother was alive was filled with light and joy. Each room of his family's mansion strung with tinsel, adorned with holly and festive wreaths, and a Christmas tree so large that it put all others to shame and sent the smell of pine wafting thorough the large home. He remembered the lavish parties his mother threw with women in gorgeous gowns and men dressed in suits taking crystal glasses from silver trays, remembered the warmth in the kitchen as his mother baked and rolled fresh pastry, remembered the taste of the hot chocolate on the tip of his tongue that his mother made him before she sent him to bed on Christmas Eve, and remembered her tight embrace and the smell of her floral perfume on Christmas morning when he'd run down the stairs into the living room.

Ben's jaw tightened.

Christmas without her was different, the large mansion where he lived with his father was cold and dark. The hallways desolate and frozen in the winter months that lead into spring, the kitchen no longer heated by the warmth of the oven or infused with the smell of gingerbread, the parlor no longer tinkling with the sounds of glasses and the laughter of guests, the living room no longer housed a Christmas tree so tall that it made the Eiffel tower look like a trinket, and there were no longer Christmas parties where people danced into the wee hours of the morning and poured themselves into bed smelling of champagne and eggnog.

All that was left was the drunken stupor of his father, the harsh words that echoed down the long hallways, and the urge for Ben to find the nearest bottle and drown himself in it.

Ben spent most of his years as a supe trying to forget the years that followed his mother's death and also his Christmases as a supe washing away the memory of the ones that seemed to be infused with the magic of Christmas in his youth.

Ben spent them at Legend's Christmas party with his woman of the hour clinging to his arm, making painful small talk and waiting until the party turned into a hedonistic thrall of sweat and skin as so many others had. And the next morning when he woke up from the fog, he turned back to the little white line that promised to make him forget and the amber bottle that did little to ease the reality that started to sink in.

But this year was different, because he had you.

You who loved Christmas more than anyone he'd ever met, you who was slowly reminding him how much he used to love Christmas as a child, you who'd dragged him to go Christmas tree shopping before Thanksgiving, you who had encouraged him to help decorate the small apartment the two of you shared with so many Christmas lights it was blinding,  and you who had planned something Christmas themed every week for the past month whether it be baking Christmas cookies or watching Christmas movies while drinking hot chocolate on the couch. And in each moment, you'd found some way to include him in it.

Ben wasn't used to that.

He wasn't used to someone wanting him there with them and someone like you going out of your way to include him in everything you did.

If a person had tried to tell him in the past that he'd ended up with someone like you, someone who smiled easily, someone who always put other people first, someone who actually gave a shit about him, someone who was always so damn warm and welcoming, someone who included in him everything you did in a way that didn't make Ben feel like an old grump, and someone who tried their best to make sure that Ben remembered every day that you wanted him around, he would have laughed in that person's face.

And yet there you were.

Truth be told Ben knew that the old version of him probably wouldn't have let someone like you close to him, let alone fall in love with them.

Ben hadn't met anyone else like you in the numerous years he'd been alive and he really didn't want to fuck it up. He'd fucked up so many other things in his life and he hadn't cared, but if it involved you, he wouldn't dare.

Hence, the current dilemma of him standing in the crowded Tiffany store at 8 pm two days before Christmas with you waiting at home for him to exchange gifts. Ben wanted to pick the perfect gift for you, but nothing felt right.

He'd never given much thought to what to buy someone for Christmas. In the past usually an expensive piece of jewelry, a handbag, a dress, or a car would have made any of Ben's many escapades swoon, but not you. Ben had tried to give you jewelry before, expensive jewelry that would have made any of those other women drop to their knees, but you were different.

And as much as Ben loved that about you, it was only making this worse for him.

The one time that he'd tried to give you a gift outright, a beautiful diamond and emerald drop pendant with earrings to match, you hadn't been impressed. Sure, you'd thought that it was beautiful, but you'd told him that you liked gifts that "meant something."

Whatever the fuck that meant.

And he knew for a fact that the 10 carat diamond necklace on the velvet pillow in front of him would mean nothing to you.

"Fuck." Ben murmured under his breath, and the saleswoman stiffened.

"Still not quite right?" She asks, adjusting the sleeves of her navy blue blazer. "We have some bigger jewel-"

"It's not the fucking size." Ben snaps frustrated.

He was running late.  He knew that you were waiting at home for him to bring back dinner and to give him his present, the one that he was sure would be thoughtful and perfect for him because you were always so damn caring.

The other shoppers were pushing and shoving their way to the counters where other salespeople stood in identical navy blazers and white button down shirts, the tension and buzz of two days to Christmas electrifying the air, while Christmas music that Ben couldn't recognize played in the background.

His supe hearing made it worse. Sometimes it was a bit overwhelming and as much as Ben pretended that he didn't have PTSD, he did. Being surrounded by this many people was not helping. It was in moments like this when you were there, would hold entwine your fingertips with his and brush your thumb gently over the back of his hand to ground him as if you could sense his discomfort.

Ben hadn't ever had someone care enough to notice things like that. Another reason why he wanted to find you the perfect gift, because you put up with all his shit and didn't ask for anything in return.

"Ben?" He hears a familiar voice ask, hesitant, and he turns to see Annie standing a few feet inside the open doorway. S

he's wearing a black puffer jacket and her hair is hidden under a red stocking cap, while Hughie holds the door for her. Hughie's arms were laden down with bags while Annie's remained bare. The winter wind blew in through the space, flecking bits of snow onto the rugs that had been laid out to avoid the customers sliding through the sludge.

"Hey." Ben grunts, not quite smiling.

He wasn't good at talking to your best friend or her boyfriend. Personally he thought that Hughie was a fucking pussy and that he didn't have the balls to tell Annie no, but the one time Ben had told you that, you'd only rolled your eyes and told him that Hughie "loved Annie."

Ben loved you and he did have the balls to tell you no, but Ben thought that sometimes it was better to keep his mouth shut and do what you asked. Not to mention Ben hated saying no to you when it was something that could make you happy. Ben liked making you as happy as you made him. 

He flinched at the thought. The self-deprecating monologue was beginning to seep in, the one that told him you were turning him into a "pussy" and that he should cut and run. The same monologue that made him make a mistake and run back to Vought a few months ago when he should have run to you.

Ben shakes it off.

"What are you doing here? I thought you two were going to leave this morning for Illinois?" Annie asks in surprise used to Ben's grouchy demeanor.

Your grandmother turned Christmas into a two day extravaganza, complete with a Christmas Eve and a Christmas Day party. And although Ben and you were supposed to begin the 14 hour drive to Illinois this morning, your grandmother had insisted the two of you catch a flight first thing tomorrow.

"Decided to catch a flight tomorrow." Ben replies.

Ben was secretly happy, because flying meant that he wasn't going to have to drive 14 hours in the snow. The two of you had driven to Illinois once before, and Ben hadn't minded it. You’d been more upset with him for not letting you drive, but Ben liked driving. Driving meant that he was in control and in an emergency situation he wouldn't have to reach over the console and yank the wheel to save the two of you and driving meant that you could relax in the passenger seat and work on whatever it was you were crocheting.

"Like us!" Hughie flashes Ben a wide smile that Ben doesn't feel the need to return. “You should have told us. We could have all traveled together!”

Ben's frown deepens at the thought at being stuck in a metal tube for hours with Hughie and he knew that if you were here you would probably elbow him in the side and tell him to "be nice." If anyone had ever tried to do that to him in the past, he would have ripped their arm off, but not you.

"Last minute shopping?" Hughie asks trying again.

Ben dragged his eyes over the numerous bags hanging from Hughie's arms. "Yeah. You too?"

"Mhmm. We just finished." Annie replies. Her gaze drops to the diamond necklace on top of the display case that the saleswoman is fiddling with. "Is that for-"

"No. Of course not!" Ben says sharper than he means to, shoulders tensing. But him standing in this store when he knew that you were waiting at home for him to celebrate Christmas made him feel like Annie and Hughie had caught him red-handed. "She doesn't like jewelry." He adds referring to you as he takes a step back from the counter and the sales associate who looks confused.

“But sir-“ The woman begins to say, but Ben waves a hand to shut her up.

"Why do you think that?" Annie asks interrupting the woman.

"Because she yelled at me when I bought her that diamond and emerald necklace!" He shouts so loud that some of the other customers turn to stare at him. "This was a fucking mistake, I have to go-" Ben starts to stomp out the door and past Annie not sure where he's going, but she shifts to stand in his way. His eyes narrow in annoyance, thinking about all the ways that he could move her.

He only put up with Annie because she was your best friend and he knew that if he did anything to her then it would upset you, and Ben didn't like upsetting you.

Well, he did think that it was cute when you got angry with him. Your eyebrows scrunched together, your cheeks turned a cute shade of pink, and your eyes seemed to glow with the force of your anger. There were few people who had the courage to tell him off, but the more you did it, the more he started to like it.

But this was different, and now thinking about you only reminded him of his current dilemma.

"Ben, wait a minute." Annie says.

"What?" He snaps

He could practically feel the seconds ticking away until he had to go back to the apartment. It was the first time that he'd ever dreaded going home and seeing you and fuck he hated every single moment of it.

"She does like jewelry." Annie's mouth drops into a sympathetic smile.

Ben tried not to get more angry when he saw the pitying look in her eye. He didn't need her pity, didn't need anyone's pity! He was still Soldier Boy damnit!

"Then why the fuck did she-"

"She doesn't like this kind of jewelry." Annie clarifies. "She like vintage stuff, simple, refined. Hell, I have to practically drag her away from the display cases at Atomic Archives."

"Atomic Archives?" Ben asks hesitantly. He had no idea what Annie was talking about. You'd never mentioned that place before.

"Yeah, it's our favorite antique store. It’s about two blocks over from where the plant shop used to be.”

"Can you show me where it is?" Ben says it before he can stop himself, his heart surging with hope at the possibility of finding the perfect gift for you.

"I mean I-" Annie begins to say, but Hughie interrupts.

"Babe, didn’t you say that the owner was closed this week because she went out of town?" Hughie asks her, throwing a sympathetic look in Ben's direction that made him bristle.

"Oh, right." Annie sighs.

Ben felt the hope inside pop and deflate like a pricked balloon, but the longer he stood there in the crowded shop, with the ostentatious jewelry twinkling under the lights, the buzz of the chatter of other shoppers, and the ridiculous new-age Christmas music that grated on his ears, he began to have an idea.

"Come on." Ben might have said it as a suggestion, but it wasn’t open for debate. As much as he didn't want to admit it, he needed Annie and unfortunately that meant that Hughie was going to tag along.

"What?" Annie sputtered.

"Come the fuck on. I don’t have time for this." Ben snaps back and stomps out the doorway past Annie and Hughie into the snow.

"But what about-" Hughie begins to say and Ben whirls around to glare at him, eyes narrowing. "Okay you got it. Lead the way buddy." Hughie nods his head in agreement.

"I'm not your fucking buddy." Ben sighs under his breath.

Soldier Boy POV

"This place is really murdery." Ben hears Hughie whisper to Annie from somewhere behind him. "Do you think Ben is going to try to kill us? Should I call Butc-"

"I'm not going to fucking kill you!" Ben snaps, pulling out his keys, the jingle of the metal echoing down the long hallway. "And I guess you really can't make a decision without that British fuck can you?”

The storage unit warehouse was desolate, but that was to be expected, it was after all two days to Christmas and most were more focused on buying things to put in their storage units than moving things out. The lights along the roof of the steel gray hallway flicker and throw long shadows over the navy blue doors of the units doing little to alleviate the creepy aura.

In hindsight Ben did agree that this particular storage space was "murdery," but it was the only one that he could get close to the apartment last minute. The same apartment that Ben has been trying to convince you to move out of.

It wasn't the safest neighborhood, and Ben hated the thought that you'd lived there as long as you had, walking home at night alone before he moved in. Now it wasn't a problem because Ben never let you walk by yourself. And as hard as you'd fought him not to live in a "big fancy apartment" all Ben wanted was to live somewhere where he could imagine staying permanently. Not in a small one bedroom apartment where he had to stoop in the shower, the bed barely fit in the bedroom, and seemed too small for one person let alone two.

He knew that he was wearing you down, but he still had a long way to go.

"Why are we here then?" Hughie asks.

"You're here because your girlfriend wouldn’t come without you.” Ben rolls his eyes as he fits the key into the thick padlock.

He was getting tired of listening to Hughie’s whining. He heard enough of that when he was stuck on missions with him, but he was tolerating him, for the moment at least. He had to, because if he didn't then he was never going to be able to find the perfect gift for you.

The interior of the storage unit isn't anything special. Ben didn't have much that he wanted to keep from his old life, as a supe or from his childhood. The things inside this storage unit were the only things that Ben had left that didn't cause him to be reminded of how his father chastised him or the drafty home that Ben returned to each time he got kicked out of another boarding school.

The mansion that had been in his family for decades had sat abandoned and locked up, hidden from the main roads so it was undisturbed after Ben's father died. Ben had gone to Philadelphia a few months ago to get things in order with the bank and prepare it for sale, but had been surprised when you told him you wanted to come.

He didn't think that you'd want to be involved in something so tedious, but it was almost as if you could sense how hard it was going to be for him, and you'd insisted.

Ben had no intention of setting foot inside, but you were curious and even though it made Ben's throat tight to walk down the dusty cobwebbed halls, the wonder on your face as you walked through made the cold memories of the world he knew before he was a supe fade into the background.

And this storage unit was all that was left of that life.

Ben located the old steamer trunk with ease. It was a faded gray now, but Ben remembered the day his father bought it for his mother. When the grayed sides were a soft supple black, the metal lock and edging were a polished gold, and the rose patterned fabric that lined the inside was soft and covered in bright pink flowers.

When Ben opens the trunk, he catches the smell of the floral perfume his mother used to wear and after all these years it makes him remember the tight hugs she'd give him the moment she sent him off to bed and the tight hugs she'd given him when he rushed down the stairs on Christmas morning.

He didn't like thinking about her or talking about her, but sometimes he would think of her when he was with you. Whenever you did something caring without being asked or whenever you took the time to check in to see how he was doing. Not that you were motherly, just that Ben hadn't had anyone in a long time care about little things like that.

The only other "relationship" he'd tried to have was with Crimson Countess and she didn't do any of the things for him that you did. There wasn't any comparison between the two of you as far as Ben was concerned.

He shakes off the memory the way he always does and moves some of his mother's clothes for the cherry wood carved box that he knows is in the bottom.

He opens it slowly, extracting a small velvet box from within, one of many inside that Ben probably should have taken to the bank ages ago for safe keeping. Ben's father had a tendency to buy things for his mother whenever he "messed up" and the small velvet boxes inside were proof of that.

Ben turns back to where Annie and Hughie are watching with curiosity at the door of the storage unit. "Here."

"Here?" Annie says hesitantly looking at the velvet box in Ben's hand.

"You brought us out here for a box?" Hughie huffs.

Ben narrows his eyes. "No. And if you tell anyone about this I'll turn you inside out, ass-wipe."

"Why do you always have to be so-" Hughie begins to say, but Annie nudges him in the side.

Ben wondered briefly if Annie and Hughie also tried to tolerate him the same way that he tolerated them for you.  

"Wow." Annie says, her voice hushed and reverent when she opens the box with strands of her blonde hair falling out around the hat.

"You think she'll like it?" Ben clears his throat, trying not to wince at the question.

He hated that he was relying on Annie for this or relying on anyone in general. Ben would have rather taken a long walk off a short pier than anyone for help, but he was just so desperate to make sure that the first Christmas the two of you spent together was perfect.

You deserved that and Ben wanted to give it to you.

"She will."

"Good." Ben takes the box back, but decides to bring the wooden box with him back to the apartment just in case. His eyes narrow as he looks over at Hughie. "If you tell anyone about this, I'll shove your head up Butcher's ass. Then again, you two would probably enjoy something like that."

"You're welcome." Annie raises an eyebrow.

"Whatever." Ben mutters.

Reader POV

Ben was late and you were starting to worry.

Not that Ben was always punctual. The man was about as punctual as the White Rabbit, but rather Ben was sure to let you know when he was running late. Not to mention Ben was rarely late to things that he knew were important to you.

And tonight was special or at least you wanted it to be.

You look at your phone again to check the time, noting that it was nearing nine and Ben had told you he was going to be back at eight. You were trying not to think too much about it, busying yourself with other little things, like packing for your trip to your grandmother's home in Illinois. Something that you would have ended up doing about an hour before you had to go to the airport, but you knew that would only annoy Ben.

But you liked annoying him.

Ben's nostrils would flare, his jaw would flex, and the green of his eyes would darken in a way that sent a pleasurable shiver down his spine, but tonight you were too anxiety ridden at how late he was to care about making him annoyed.

Ben and you were supposed to leave this morning to drive the 14 hours to your hometown in Illinois, but you'd called your grandmother a few days ago and asked her if Ben and you could fly in instead.

You wanted the two of you have a Christmas alone before you dragged him back home and made him sit through the two holiday parties your grandmother threw. So you'd planned a quiet Christmas at home where the two of you could drink eggnog, watch some holiday movies, and exchange gifts before Ben was subjected to every single person you'd known since you were six.

But Ben didn’t seem to mind any of that.

Regardless, you were going all out this Christmas. It was Ben's first since he'd come back to the States and you wanted it to be perfect and it was the first Christmas the two of you were spending together as a couple.

The anxious energy that thrummed through your veins reached out into the numerous plants in your apartment, that shifted and stirred as your powers coaxed them forward. The vines that crept along the walls shook with an unnatural breeze, the Christmas tree grew an inch taller, the mistletoe hanging above the front door grew another few shimmering berries, the blackberry and raspberry vines that hung over your refrigerator fidgeted and wove together into a curtain while the tomato plant in the garden box above your sink dropped bright red fruit onto the counter, and the orange/lemon tree that sat behind your kitchen table blocking the view of the alley beyond shook it's branches for a moment. You could feel everything alive in your apartment leaning towards you as if waiting for your silent command.

Rex, the creature you'd created from broken vines and trampled leaves four months ago, flicks his eyes over to you sensing the same disturbance the rest of the plants inside could.

You bite the inside of your cheek fighting your urge to check your phone even though you know that less than a minute has passed since you'd last checked. Instead you fiddle with the ribbon on the lumpy wrapped gift that is perched on your lap.

Shopping for Ben had been difficult to say the least.

You weren't sure what to get your 104 boyfriend who'd lived as a hedonistic playboy for most of his life and you didn't like giving gift cards (you didn't think Ben would understand the concept) or giving people meaningless trinkets that they used once and then threw away (the Grinch was right about some things). You liked giving gifts that you put time and effort into that you were sure the recipient was going to love.

And you were sure that the package on your lap contained the perfect gift and you were excited to see the look on Ben's face when he unwrapped it.

Your cat Bean purrs where he sits beside you on the couch and Rex your, for lack of a better word, Dragon was watching the multicolored lights on the Christmas tree in the corner blink on and off.

It was bigger for your apartment than it should be, but Ben had insisted on getting it and you couldn't complain. Not when he genuinely seemed to be happy to stand there in the snow picking out a tree with you.

And after when no Uber driver agreed to pick the two of you up because of the tree, Ben had carried it on his shoulder fifteen blocks while you begged him to let you help. When you'd tried to take some of the tree, Ben had shifted it to his other shoulder and taken your hand instead, which wasn't what you meant when you reached out towards him, but you didn't let go, not when it was cold and Ben's hand was warm.

The one jammed into the corner of your small living room didn't have a leaf out of place or any signs of decay. You'd fixed that with a flick of a finger.

You'd gone all out with decorations.

Every plant in your apartment had lights of their own and ornaments that swung just out of reach from your pets. Christmas lights were strung down the hallway and there was a wreath on your bedroom door. Strands of mistletoe hung over every doorway in your apartment and there was one taped to the wall above your bed. That one was Ben's doing, but you couldn't complain, not when it felt so damn good to kiss him.

Ben hadn't spoken about the Christmases he spent in the past, but he'd listened to you talk about your Christmases growing up when the two of you decorated the tree with ornaments you'd collected over the years.

He might not have been big on sharing, but your boyfriend was good at listening. Not just pretending to listen, but actually being quiet and wanting to learn more about what you're saying. You'd thought it was odd when you became roommates and you realized just how much Ben listened and remembered what you told him, but now it was one of the reasons that made you love your boyfriend more.

You sighed, a happy smile on your face. You didn't think that you could feel this way about anyone, let alone someone you hated for so long, but you did. Ben was changing the belief you had about what relationships should look like, and you were sure that you were doing the same for him.

You hear the jingle of keys and the fumble of the doorknob as Ben slowly opens the front door and you leap from the couch.

"You're home!" You exclaim as your body hits his full speed, but he doesn't move. It was difficult for you to produce enough force to move him, difficult for anyone really.

Ben chuckles "Miss me Petals?"

He moves the plastic bag of Chinese food to his left hand so he can hug you back, his right hand fitting comfortably over the small of your back to hold you tighter against him.

You could remember the first time you hugged him, when all he did was stand there with his hands at his sides awkwardly while you held on to him as tight as you could. This was better. Ben's embrace is warm and strong, unyielding, but full of the love that he’d had such a hard time admitting.

"Yes." You squeeze him hard, smiling into his jacket that's flecked with melting snow, cold against your skin, but the warmth of his body soaks through the chill and into you. You sigh, nuzzling further into him. "I was worried-"

"Why?" Ben's voice rumbles through his chest, against your cheek.

"Because you weren't home yet." You pull back to stare up at him. His brilliant green eyes catch in the multicolored strands of Christmas lights, strung through your apartment. There's snow caught in his dark hair, turning to water and dripping down into his face in the warmth of the apartment.

Ben frowns. "I'm sorry."

"It's okay. You're here now." You smile arching up to kiss him. Ben groans into your mouth, his grip on you tightening as he deepens the kiss, pressing the hand on the small of your back just a little more to secure you against his chest.

You sigh softly, content in living in this moment with him for another few precious seconds. The heat of his body transferring into you the longer you stand pressed against him, soaking through your sweatpants and chunky sweater in the best way.

You'd never felt this way about anyone in the past. There hadn't been another boyfriend who'd treated you the way Ben did, no other boyfriend who'd cared about the little things, and no other boyfriend who you were so in love with. Even your first love so long ago faded into the background, the one you thought you'd never get over, and all that was left was Ben.

You're too excited about giving Ben his gift to eat. You sit cross-legged on the plush gray couch so close to him that your knees are touching the outside of his thigh as Ben places the boxes of food onto your coffee table. The anxious energy tingling in the pit of your stomach and buzzing in your chest so much that it's difficult to sit still.

And before Ben can give you your chopsticks, you thrust the lumpy wrapped package onto his lap with a wide smile.

"You first!" You say.

Ben shakes his head. "It should be ladies first."

“I’m not a lady Ben. We both know that-“

“Sorry sweetheart that’s the way it goes.”

“Don't be so old fashioned Gramps. It's 2024.” You roll your eyes at him, laughing at the cute frown that pulls at his lips when you use the nickname. Ben never liked it, but when you'd first met, Ben hadn't told you his real name, and you'd assigned him the nickname and it had stuck when you realized how much it annoyed him.

That was when he did everything in his power to annoy you as well, so it seemed like a good fit.

In all honesty, you didn't hate how old fashioned Ben was, if anything it was a relief, a reprieve from the way the modern boys treated women. It was nice to finally be with a man who actually gave a shit about you and cared what you wanted.

"And I really want you to open yours first." You plead as you lean towards him. "Oh, and this goes with it."

You reach down behind the couch to grab the small golden barrel cactus, avoiding the sharp yellow spines, and place it on the minimal space left on the coffee table. You'd crocheted a dark green sleeve to go around the terra cotta pot.

"You got me a cactus?" Ben snorts.

"I mean, I have so many plants in here and I thought that you'd want one that was yours. Plus, you'll never have to water it." You gesture with one hand to the numerous plants around the room, the ones bathed in the multicolored lights from the Christmas Tree, the ones with bright green leaves that unfurled towards the light, the others with hanging vines that trailed to the ground so thick that you couldn't remember the color of the wall, the apple tree with ripe red fruit, and the numerous herbs in the garden box that hung over your kitchen sink. "And I gave it a sweater."

"Why did you give it a sweater?"

"It’s used to a warm climate and because I had some yarn left over."

"From?"

"You're just going to have to open your gift and find out." You shrug, but can barely contain your excitement.

Ben shakes his head at you, but a smile twitches on the corner of his lips. You knew that your boyfriend loved you because you were different than anyone he'd ever met, and you reveled in that. You liked that even though Ben was older than you,  that no matter how many other experiences he'd had in his life,  you were a first for him just as Ben was a first for you.

He rips through the paper carefully, trying hard not to ruin what was inside, the sound of crinkling and tearing blocking out the Christmas playlist for a moment that you'd put on before Ben had come home, but you can hear the ABBA song clear as day.

For a moment he stares down at the gift not quite comprehending what the lumpy mass in his lap is, but then he picks it up.

It had taken a month for you to pick out the perfect dark green yarn that was soft but not too soft, green but not too green, and another two months for you to finish it when Ben wasn't home, but you were proud of the sweater that you'd made your boyfriend.

He stares at it for another few beats, holding it up to the light, and it makes you worry that maybe you should have bought him something at the mall instead.

"You made me a sweater?" He asks, there's something on the edge of his voice that you can't place, some traces of emotion that you're not able to identify.

"Yeah. I wanted to make you something." You clear your throat, worried. "I mean- you don't have any and I know that you keep saying you run a little warm, but I figured we're going to Illinois for Christmas and it might be cold."

Ben doesn't say anything and you start to feel the self-doubt come roaring in.

Why did I make him a sweater? I should have bought him some cologne or something.

"And you complained when Butcher sent you on that mission to Alaska last month and I just thought that-“ You press your lips into a tight line, shoulders drooping. “If you don't like it I can keep it for me-" You fumble, but before you can finish, Ben yanks you into his lap.

His hands cup your cheeks as he kisses you so fiercely that it wipes any doubts from your mind. You make a surprised sound in the back of your throat, but sink into the kiss.  “Don’t you fucking dare.” Ben mutters against your lips.

Your blush burns against your face. “You like it?”

He nods. “ No one’s ever made me anything before.” His voice comes out a little bit gruff, as if he’s embarrassed to admit it, but it makes you smile.

“I figured and I wanted to change that.” Your fingertips dance over his forehead, brushing away the hair that’s fallen forward before your hand drops to cup his cheek, feeling the scratch of his beard against the palm of your hand. “But you’re sure you like it?”

Ben kisses you again, his large hands settling on your hips with an encouraging squeeze. “I do.”

“Good. Merry Christmas.” You wrap your arms around the back of his neck to hug him for a minute, sinking into his embrace with a happy smile.

"Merry Christmas doll." Ben murmurs into your hair, affection lacing his words.

Again, you send a mental thank you to your grandmother for understanding that Ben and you needed a day to be together and celebrate the way you wanted to before coming to stay. Not that you didn't like the Christmas Eve party or the Christmas day party, but you wanted to give Ben this. You noticed that Ben still had a hard time being in places with a lot of people when the PTSD came roaring back, and you wanted to show him what Christmas meant to you and hopefully show what Christmas would look like between the two of you as long as you were together.

“Sweetheart you gotta open yours now.” Ben’s voice rumbles, the warmth of his breath on your ear. It makes a pleasurable shiver thrill skate down your spine when you think of all the other times the two of you have been this close.

“It’s okay I can wait.” You hum into his throat, content, but Ben won't give in.

He pushes you back gently from his chest shaking his head. “Too bad. It's your turn."

"Fine." You start to move back to the space beside him, but Ben's hands catch on your hips to stop you.

"I didn't say I wanted you to move did I?" His smile turns more smirk.

"I-"

"How many times do I have to tell you that I like having you on top of me?" Ben purrs, kissing under your jaw, his beard scratching in a way that makes your throat tight.

"Keep doing that and the only thing I'm going to unwrap is you." You sigh in a half-moan, fingers curling into the hair at the base of his neck.

"After." Ben leans back to reach into his coat pocket and pulls out a small black velvet box that fits in the palm of your hand.

You hesitate to open it.

It wasn't that you didn't want jewelry for Christmas, it was that Ben and you had done this song and dance before after he tried to make you wear a diamond and emerald necklace with jewels bigger than your index, middle, and third finger put together. The whole time you wore it the only thing you could think about is how many groceries you could have bought with the necklace, how much you were afraid that it was going to break, and how much you feared that you were going to lose it or someone was going to try and steal it.

Maybe that was ridiculous, but extravagant gifts never appealed to you. You liked gifts that meant something, gifts that were heartfelt and thoughtful, gifts like the bookshelf Ben had gotten you months ago before you were dating because he noticed you needed one. Not to mention you loved just spending time with Ben. If he hadn't gotten you anything you would have been content with just sitting with him on the couch and watching a Christmas movie.

But you smile, because you don't want to hurt his feelings and because it's his first Christmas in forty years and you wanted it to be special.

It's Christmas and I will be thankful and happy with whatever he got me, because Ben was thinking of me when he bought it.

You think to yourself as you open the box.

The first thing you notice is that the box isn't as new as you thought, the inside of the lid is printed in ancient script that's a little faded, worn against the aged white silk that lines it. Your eyes drift to the piece of jewelry nestled on the pillow. It's a silver locket, hexagon shaped, and about the size of your thumb. The face is printed with weaving ivy leaves and roses that reach to a simple plain border.

Simple, stately, and completely you.

Ben is uncharacteristically quiet, but he breaks the silence first. "Do you-" He clears his throat, "Do you like it?"

He asks it hesitantly, as if he's afraid to hear your answer. It was unusual for Ben to look so nervous.

You can only nod, any words you had stuck in the back of your throat. Your fingernail finds the seam between the two pieces of metal and you gently unlatch the locket to see the picture inside. There's a piece of glass protecting a yellowed photo of a little boy who looks no more than five standing in a small black suit. You didn't think that they made suits for kids that small. He's smiling and one of his teeth are missing, but he looks oddly familiar.

"Who is this?" You ask. The more you look at the photo the more you think that you've seen him before.

"It's me." He says it quiet, almost a whisper.

"You? But-"

"It was my mother's." He clarifies and you inhale sharply in surprise.

"Really?"

He nods once, looking uncomfortable. By now you knew that moments like this usually made your boyfriend uncomfortable no matter how many times that you'd told him that he didn't have to be uncomfortable about being vulnerable. He was getting a little better, slowly, very slowly.

"Oh Ben I don't know if I should-" You shake your head, afraid to touch something so old.

Ben didn't often speak about his mother, but when he did, it was always reverent and respectful. You could see in his eyes how much he had loved her and how much he had cared about her. His father, Ben also didn't like talking about, but Ben never spoke of his father with the kindness that he'd spoke about his mother.

And you didn't want to take something like this away from him, something that meant so much to him, because of how much he loved his mother.

"No. I-" He clears his throat and Ben's hand tightens on your waist. "I want you to have it."

"But-" You stutter.

"What else am I going to do with it Petals? Can't exactly wear it myself." Ben chuckles, but the humor doesn't quite reach his eyes.

“Yeah, but it’s your mom’s and I-“ You trail off still looking at the photo of Ben as a little boy. He had the same mischievous twinkle in his eyes that you loved, the same unruly dark hair, but there was something different about him. He looked happier. It was the same look that Ben had when it was just the two of you together, the happiness that you wanted Ben to feel the rest of his life when he understood what it was like to be loved and cherished.

And it made you understand that the last time Ben must have felt loved and cherished was when his mother was still alive. It broke your heart to know that Ben had lived all these years without her and missed that in his life.

The locket was beautiful and the fact that Ben remembered what you said about liking gifts that “meant something” made your heart flutter.

Because this meant something. Ben taking the time to go through his mother’s jewelry and pick something out just for you that was special to him that he wanted to share with you, meant more than the emerald and diamond necklace he had tried to give you months ago.

There were tears burning behind your eyes the more you look at the photo of the little boy.

Ben is watching you. “Well-“ He shrugs. “I'm an only child. Which means I don't have any siblings who have wives to fight over this stuff so, I figured that if anyone was going to get it, it should be you. If you don't take it, it'll sit in that fucking storage unit. Seems like a shame."

You don't answer.

"And-" He hesitates, "I think my mom would have wanted you to have it. Hell, she might have given it to you, if I'd brought you home to meet her."

Your cheeks flush.

Ben studies you for another minute, before you watch his smile twitch into a frown. "Fuck, I knew I shouldn't have gotten you jewelry.  Annie said that you liked jewelry, but I told her you didn't and now the bitch is probably having a good laugh with that pussy of a boyfriend! Forget about it sweetheart, I'll go get you something else right now-" Ben tries to take the box from you, but you swat his hand away.

“Don't you fucking dare!” You shout, using the same words that he said to you when you tried to take his sweater away.

"But you don't like it-"

"I do!  And knowing how much this means to you, makes it better."

"Really?"

You nod, a wide smile wiping away any uncertainty in his gaze. "Will you help me put it on?"

"Sure." Ben says gruffly. His voice has lowered a little, and you know that it's a mixture of pride and love mingling in the tone. It made something break open deep inside and flood your ribcage with love.

You turn your neck to the side, pulling your hair away from the skin as Ben hooks the chain together at the nape of your neck.  The cool metal of the necklace against your skin and the weight are unfamiliar, but you already knew that you wouldn’t be taking it off anytime soon. "It's perfect!" You pull Ben in for a kiss, threading your fingers into his dark hair.

Ben smiles into your mouth, holding you tight against him as if he never wants to let you go and you don't want him to.

It was odd to think that you'd only been together for four months, but you couldn't imagine your life without him. It seemed ridiculous for you to think that Ben was it after such a short time, but he was. You'd never rushed into anything in your entire life, but then Ben was there shattering every expectation that you had, enough to make you throw your inhibitions to the wind and jump feet first into the unknown if it meant he was with you.

The kiss is softer than the one the two of you shared at your front door, filled with more emotion than Ben usually let the world see, but he was opening up bit by bit, learning that you wouldn't judge him for that and it made you feel sky high.

This was the relationship you'd always wanted, and you never thought that you'd have it with Ben, but now that you were here you wouldn't change a thing, because it wouldn’t have put you in his arms.

"You can change the picture." Ben murmurs into your lips.

"No way. I don't have any kid photos of you. And I'm pretty sure you'll see all of mine this week.”

“I bet you were cute.” Ben smiles, raising one of the hands from your hip to push your hair from your face. “Hard to imagine you being any other way sweetheart.” 

"Debatable." You sigh, nipping at his bottom lip in a way that makes Ben pull you back to him.

And when the kiss turns hungry, with you gripping his hair so tight you'd be sure that it would hurt anyone else, and with his fingers pushing up the bottom of your t-shirt to feel the warmth of your skin against his hands and find the dips and curves of your body that make you moan into his mouth, you can't help but think that this is the best Christmas you'd ever had.

"I do think it's later sweetheart." Ben's eyes shine with mischief, mouth pulling into the familiar smirk that makes your knees weak.

"Good. Because I have one other gift for you." You moan as Ben's mouth trails down to your jaw, his beard prickling against the sensitive skin, in a way that drives you mad.

"It's not another plant is it?" He bites just under your jaw and you tighten your hands in his hair, gasping softly.  "Fuck, I love those sounds you make baby." Ben murmurs.

"No." You've lost all ability to form sentences, not when he's so perfectly warm and the trail of his hands working up your abdomen consumes you.

"Give it to me later." Ben's eyes flash a startling green. "I want to unwrap my favorite gift right now."

"Keep going the way you are, and you're gonna find it."

Ben hesitates, before he raises his hand to feel the end of the brand new lingerie that you'd bought special for tonight, his eyes darkening with the realization. "Well then, Merry Christmas to me."

Ben's mouth falls against yours, but before he goes further, he pulls back just for a moment, his hand coming up to gently cup your cheek. Your eyes widen in surprise.

"Ben?" You question. 

"Merry Christmas Petals." He whispers, dragging his thumb over your cheek, and nudges his nose against yours in a gesture that warms your heart. He didn’t do things like that often, but whenever he did it always stood out to you, because it added on another layer to the man you loved with all your heart.

"Merry Christmas Ben."

A/N: I thought that they deserved a little Christmas fluff. I'm hoping that I have time to drop a follow up to this before Christmas, because I kinda want to write what happens when they go back to Illinois, but we'll see what happens! ❤️

As always thank you so much for reading! Reblogs, Likes, and Comments are not required, but are always appreciated! I love hearing what y'all think 🥰

Taglist for Take A Chance On Me:

@roseblue373 @mrsjenniferwinchester @corruptedcruiser @winchesterwild78 @the-super-who-locked-wizard

@criminalyetminimal @52ndstreeet @bitchykittenconnoisseur @anna6307

@faephoria @possiblyafangirl @jqtaro @quietlybitchy @tinydancer40

@roger-that-cap @megara0224 @miskwaadesiwag @rainyeggvoidpurse

@soldiergrimes @tiffsbagels @podiumackles

@ifyouwerethemoon @ririshkin @peachhiz @fitxgrld @sukunassfinger

@xx-spooky-little-vampire-xx @ej13928 @deans-spinster-witch @kr804573 @modiddys-blog

@acciosherlockholmes @minas-fantasies @fireskyy

@n-o-p-e-never @nesnejwritings @am0rem @tpwkcalli @momggn

@fitxgrld @whimsicalcherry @ladysparkles78

@spxideyver @zepskies @impala67stellawinchester

@reidtomewinchester @samanthadegaro @glossy01 @nikimisery

@tunnelvisionlove @incandxscents @winchester-stark @samahanta

@melonmochi

@kamisobsessed @whichwitchwanda @karolina-12110905 @jcollins03-blog

@pixviee @filmologetica @yvonneeeee @c1nnamong1rl29 @kmc1989

@livya99 @cherrygirl444 @tulipsvanilla @angrydragon90 @chi-raz

[ticklish-n-stuff]

Merry Christmas!

This fic is a present for the love of my life @azureyemberzz

I know you already got your actual presents early, so I thought I'd save mine for the actual day lol

This is an x reader fic, though I made the reader have more of Azurey's personality, but I don't think there's any physical descriptions of the reader.

This fic is a bit different from my usual ones, so I apologize if it's not as great, but it was still made with love dies of cringe

Rambling aside, I hope you enjoy. I had fun writing this💖

______________________________________________________________

Albedo x reader (romantic)

Lees: Albedo & reader

Lers: Albedo & reader

Warnings: Tickles! Author is a lesbian LMAO

______________________________________________________________

December 1st…

The moment the calendar changed from november to december, you knew that it was Christmas time. One could never start too early on their Christmas traditions. Even Albedo had made the necessary adjustments to make this month as special as possible.

It seemed natural that the first thing you both did was pick up a Christmas tree. You had always leaned towards the more traditional ones, so now a beautifully green tree that reached the ceiling sat in the living room, waiting to be decorated…

December 5th…

Albedo thought it could be a fun idea to hand make some of the ornaments. With two artists living under the same roof, it made sense, so you both got to work.

You two made all kinds of designs that showed off each of your personalities. There was a simple blue one with gold sparkles, a crystal-like white one, another one had a cheesy science pun written on it that had the both of you snorting like idiots, it was great.

Once all the designs were done, Albedo used his magic on the drawings to bring them to life, materializing them right before your eyes. This wasn’t the first time you had witnessed Albedo bring one of his drawings to life, yet it always mesmerized you each and every time. And knowing that he had brought to life some of your original designs to be hung up made it feel all the more special. It was like his way of showing off your art skills, and how proud he was of you.

December 9th…

Now that all the necessary decorations had been acquired, it was time to give the tree a makeover, starting off with the lights.

A few boxes of those white lights with the “crayon” shape sat there as you both started the pesky progress of untangling them. You couldn’t help the groan of annoyance that escaped you, itching to get to the fun part.

“Patience, dear” Albedo would tell you, stopping momentarily to give your nose a teasing boop, causing a playful pout to form on your lips and a faint blush to rise up your ears.

Your attention then got captured by Albedo’s hands, watching the way he’d untangle each light strand, making it seem flawless and graceful, as he usually showed with any task. You couldn’t help but wonder how those fingers would feel against your skin- No! Stop that, now isn’t the time for such fantasies.

Of course, Albedo wasn’t called a genius for nothing. He already felt the way your gaze bore towards his hands. A faint smirk grazed his lips when you tried focusing back on the task at hand, thinking you had been so slick. ‘Cute…’ he thought to himself. In a moment of playfulness, he reached out and sneakily poked you on the side. He couldn’t help but chuckle at the way your body jolted in surprise, the adorable squeak that escaped you provoked him further into destroying you right there and then. So that’s what he did.

You knew you were screwed when you noticed the mischievous gaze of your lover, trying to scramble away, but it was too late. In just a few moments, you had been reduced to a pile of laughter against his arms. His fingers playing the sides of your torso like an instrument.

“W-wahahait! The liHIHIghts!” You tried to reason with him, not like it would work, you already knew that, yet it added to the excitement of the moment.

“They can wait. Besides, your laughter shines the brightest~”

You wanted to groan right there and then over how unfairly sweet he was being, though that only just made him double down his efforts. Watching with a pleased expression as you shrieked your head off, the lights long forgotten by now.

Oh well… there’s always next time.

December 10th…

After yesterday’s ‘lil detour, you both finally managed to put the lights on the tree. The bulbs twinkled like little stars in the vertical pattern they had been put on.

Now it was time for the rest of the decor. Garlands as fuzzy as a cat’s tail would spiral down the tree (not before you got tangled between them somehow, causing Albedo to tease you some more), all the homemade ornaments were on display, plus some extra delicate glass ones towards the bottom of the tree from years prior.

The tree was finally coming together, it was just missing the final touch.

You sat on top of Albedo’s shoulders, holding the delicate star topper on your hands. It had a few cracks from accidentally being shattered a few Christmases ago, but Albedo being the sweetheart he was, helped you put it back together. It was too precious to throw away.

Two short people made one tall person, at least that was your logic. So with the added height, you managed to reach the top of the tree, carefully placing the star in its rightful place.

You climbed off of Albedo’s shoulders, the both of you admiring all the hard work that had been poured into that tree. Christmas was already shaping up well.

December 14th…

As the month progressed, the shared home started to become nicely cluttered with more festive decor. You and Albedo were currently making some paper snowflakes, a silly yet fun tradition you had grown attached to.

You couldn’t help but lightly chuckle at how concentrated Albedo was on the task, crafting each paper snowflake perfectly perfect. Whereas yours looked a bit messy in comparison, but that was all part of the fun.

Speaking of fun… you were suddenly feeling mischievous, wanting to get a bit of revenge after the lighting incident. You snuck up behind your boyfriend who was blissfully unaware, completely caught up in his own little world. A playful grin overtook your lips as you dug into his ribcage.

“gYAh?! Whahat are you- You’re messing uhup my progrehehess!” The blonde cackled helplessly against your fingers, his brain losing any sense of coordination to fight back and simply opting to curl up. His paper snowflake, now mismatched, long forgotten…

December 19th…

As much as you loved Christmas, it could also be an overwhelming time of year, so today you and Albedo decided to have a ‘lil art date, simply drawing portraits of each other.

The tree and all the decorations gave the place a warm and cozy feel, despite how cold it’d get outside.

You had grown so relaxed in the simple activity that you ended up falling asleep. Albedo smiled at the sight, getting up to put both drawings out of harm's way. He didn’t have the heart to wake you up, knowing how… questionable your sleep schedule could get at times, not like he was one to talk. He settled down next to you, allowing your sleepy self to cling onto him for warmth.

December 24th…

Usually, Christmas eve was the time everyone went all out with parties and fancy dinners, but when two introverts live together, Christmas eve is spent a lot more casually, yet still just as meaningful.

The lights were dimly lit, which accentuated the Christmas tree. You and Albedo were snuggled against each other on the couch watching The Polar Express, a holiday classic. A big blanket was draped over you two, and you each had a cup of hot cocoa for extra warmth and immersion.

It was no secret that Albedo could be a bit of a pro in the kitchen, but his hot chocolate skills were out of this world. Seriously, what is his secret?! You could drink this stuff all day anyday.

More beloved Christmas films would continue to play in the background throughout the night, eventually the both of you passing out on the couch all cuddled up together.

December 25th…

By the time you had come to your senses, it was already daylight. That’s right, it was finally Christmas.

You looked to your side, pouting a bit over the missing alchemist. Said blonde emerged into the room shortly after, holding a present in his hands.

“I know we said no gifts, but I thought this felt appropriate” He was right, neither of you were big on materialistic possessions, gifts never needing to be included for the holiday to be special, but Albedo was a true gentleman, of course he’d still show up with something.

You carefully took the gift from his hands, unwrapping it delicately. A smile instantly spread across your face at the sight. Albedo had taken it upon himself to frame the two portraits you each drew the other day. Simple yet thoughtful. You set it aside, springing to your feet to give him a hug, practically twirling him around, much to the alchemist’s embarrassment.

“That was so thoughtful, ‘Bedo. Thank you! Thank you! Thank you!~” You placed a sloppy kiss on his cheek, grinning when the blonde’s pale skin started to grow pink.

“No need to thank me… Now, go get ready quickly, the snow is waiting for us”

You nodded like an eager puppy, running off to dress yourself properly for the harsh weather. You practically dashed out the door, with an alchemist in hand, heading over to the snowy scenery.

Christmas is a special time of year that can be celebrated in all sorts of ways, yet you wouldn’t trade any of this away. It was perfect, this was perfect. Another joyful Christmas to remember for years to come.

I love you, Azurey. Merry Christmas - S🌸

______________________________________________________________

[kimtaegis]

.

[wasyago]

something incredibly self indulgent

[be-fae-do-crimes]

You're not alone! I relate to this so hard. I get hella imposter syndrome for basically every aspect of my life, which also includes my fae identity. I've been trying but I just don't have the same sense of lore about courts or social rules or fae society in general. I've been rationalizing this with the knowledge that I was a bit of a nomad who was mostly shapeshifting into other forms and then coming back to whatever court I was from (if I was even from a court at all) only to back up my memories into the mycelium, but I have no idea what purpose that served.

I also know that I chose to be a human, because I always chose what I shapeshifted into. And most of the time, I'm actually ok with being human, there's just something deep inside me that is distinctly fae.

I'm rambling, but my point is you're not alone in feeling like a fake fairy. When I'm feeling the imposter syndrome particularly hard I try to latch on to the idea that fae are as diverse as humans, if not more, and there aren't necessarily stories that humans have access to that describe every single fae experience. There are definitely fae out there who don't match existing lore and that doesn't make us any less valid.

It's strange, because I usually don't experience impostor syndrom with regards to things like being trans, but I have to confess something:

Sometimes I feel like a fake fairy

I'm not sure why, but I'll hear about other fairies experiences, and if they don't match up with mine, then it feels like I'm faking which I know isn't the case, but it's hard to shake. I don't relate to things like courts or wanting to return to the fae realm, and I haven't really had some of the same magical experiences that others have.

Whenever I'm feeling this way, I just remind myself that because I'm human-aligned fae, of course that means my experiences are going to be different from fae who aren't. I'm so intertwined with the human world at this point that I've started thinking of myself as somewhat of a human fairy. Not in the sense that I'm a human and a fairy but a Human Fairy as it's own distinct type of fae, but also a distinct type of human (an alternative humanity, kinda like Neanderthals, actually) I feel like maybe the reason I was put into the human world in the first place is because this is simply where I'm meant to be and that's all there is to it.

Idk