#master kringles

[littleziisa]

New icon

[hxney-lemcn]

The Riddle of Love — Gotham! Edward Nygma x gn! reader

summery: Edward's interest shifts to someone who indulges in his love of riddles.

tw: bullying (?), kristen kringle is a warning all her own in this fic, implied rejection (not really tho, Ed's just awkward).

a/n: I hope so much that I wrote all these characters correctly. I have riddler fever rn and really wanted to write for him, but I've always been scared that I'd write him too ooc. I think I did good tho.

wc: 3.1k

Master List

“What is it that no one wants to have, but no one wants to lose either?” I asked. I already knew it was a lost cause. Edward Nygma was the smartest man I had ever met. Dorky? Yes. Nerdy? Absolutely. Smart? Incredibly. So trying to impress him at his own game wasn’t exactly the smartest move. Yet, the first time I gave him a riddle to solve (which he solved ridiculously fast), I don’t think I’d ever seen him so happy. So I continued to scour the internet in my free time to try and find obscure riddles. 

Although this riddle wasn’t that obscure. I was running out of riddles to find, and I sure as hell couldn’t make my own. 

“A lawsuit,” Eddie replied without missing a beat, still focusing on testing blood samples. 

I couldn’t stop the pout that formed on my face, “It’s not fair how smart you are.”

I didn’t see Ed’s lips twitch up, how the praise I didn’t think twice about saying impacted him more than he’d like to admit. It was quiet for a few minutes, and I looked back down to the papers I had brought with me. Sometimes, I found myself working in the forensic lab when I could. One of the perks of being a criminal data analyst. I could make my notes on paper, and then just copy them into the computer later. 

Since I was a data analyst, I was in the record archives often. I was acquainted with Kristen Kringle, which obviously led me to Edward Nygma. She would complain about him if I came in after he had left. At that point I didn’t know him, but I also found her complaints unfounded. I’d let her vent, but I’d also speak up for him, which made her glance away in what I assume was guilt. Then there were the unfortunate times that I’d walk in on his awkward flirting. I’d just tensely put away or take the files I needed for my research and leave them to it. 

But after enough times, I’d caught him in the middle of one of his riddles. An easy one, probably to dumb it down for Kringle so she’d be enticed to answer it in the first place. Yet he had caught the attention of the wrong person. Although that didn’t seem to put a damper on his mood. He only sent me a tight lipped smile with a little ‘ding ding ding!’. That’s how I was caught hook line and sinker. His mannerisms were oddly endearing to me, and that’s how our odd little friendship formed. 

I was brought out of my reverie as Eddie shuffled over to his microscope, “I am a nine lettered word and rhyme with perfection; I am another name for love. What am I?”

I blinked, not ready for a riddle, even though I always should be in the presence of him. I looked up from my work, and I noticed how Eddie was sweating, his cheeks flushing a bright red. I tapped the metal table anxiously, the word love had thrown me off my game and my brain felt empty of anything else. I mumbled words under my breath that rhyme with perfection. 

“Deception, reception, perception,” I mumbled, yet none of them fit the rest of the rhyme. The longer I took, the more anxious Eddie seemed to get. “Affection. Oh! The answer is affection!”

Ed cleared his throat, adjusting his glasses, “Y-yes, that is correct. G-good job.” My proud smile fell into a more awkward one, thinking over the implications. That riddle sounded like one he’d save for Kringle. Was he running out of riddles as well? The thought alone was preposterous. It was tense for a bit. And when I realized I had nothing left to do but input the current data I had on some wanna be gang leader. The sad part is I knew that the cops aren’t going to be the first ones who get them. 

Even though I needed to leave, it felt wrong for some reason. To leave the situation after Edward had seemed to admit something in his unique way of sharing. I didn’t want to assume his feelings, yet I knew he also wasn’t one to just state them willingly. Biting my lip anxiously, I decided to just do it. 

Walking over towards Ed’s hunched form, I leaned down to place a light kiss to his cheek, “I’ll see ya later Eddie.” Then I booked it out of the room, leaving behind a very flustered dork. 

It wasn’t much later in the day when Doctor Lee Thompson entered my office. It wasn’t much of an office. The dark walls made the space feel enclosed, and it barely fit my desk and the few cabinets it held. Yet I didn’t mind it since it was a space for myself. Lee, on the other hand, was another acquaintance whose office was nowhere near mine. She’d only come to my office for a few reasons, if it was work related (which was rare since our departments weren’t similar), or if it was personal. Sometimes she fessed that it seemed I needed some company, that it would do me no good to spend all this time alone in my office. Other times…it was on a more personal note, about Eddie and I’s relationship. 

She plopped a candy bar on my desk, a placating move that was all too familiar.

“You must’ve done a real number on Ed,” She smirked, sitting on my desk. Due to the tiny size of the room, and the nature of my job, I didn’t have a seat for guests. 

“What do you mean?” I asked. Deep down, I knew exactly what she meant. I knew Edward was an awkward man, and his experience with flirting was an ultimate zero. Yet it was hard to imagine that he was still affected by a small gesture of affection… Okay maybe the gesture wasn’t that small, for either of us, but still! 

Lee’s smirk widened, “I think you know exactly what. Poor little Ed kept stumbling over his words when I brought you up. Something must’ve happened.”

I unwrapped the candy bar as she spoke, wanting to avoid any thought of the earlier moment. Looking back it was so awkward and a terrible attempt at…what? Flirting? Was that my intention? I didn’t even know my own intentions! 

I took a bite from the candy bar, savoring the sweet flavor before having to explain the painfully awkward memory. When I managed to explain the event, Lee couldn’t stop herself from chuckling, causing me to finish my candy bar with a bitter look. 

“That sounds like something you’d both do,” She smiled.

“What’s that supposed to mean,” I huffed, trying to fight off the flush of embarrassment I felt. 

“Nothing,” She sighed wistfully. “But you two really take your time, huh?” 

“Shut up,” I scowled. 

“Okay, okay,” She threw her hands up in mock surrender. “I’ll stop teasing…for now. But seriously, I think you two would be cute together.”

I let out a childish groan, “I get it. Is there anything else you need?” 

“No,” She smiled as she stood up. “Just wanted to see what had Ed all wound up.”

I rolled my eyes, but my heart skipped a beat at the implication. As Lee saw herself out, my mind kept racing. What was Ed doing right now? What was he thinking about? Did he really care enough about my opinion, about my affection, that he was still affected by it? I stared at my computer screen, the cursor blinking mindlessly. Glancing at the time, I scowled as I realized I still had 30 minutes left to my shift. The idea of going home, having a relaxing dinner and then maybe treating myself to a warm bath. 

…

That was only the beginning. It seems that Eddie’s admiration had shifted from Kristin Kringle to me. It was flattering, to say the least. At least to me. Once I gained Ed’s attention, I seemed to have gained his colleagues attention as well. Typically, I didn’t work with the officers, I’d research criminals, then that data would be added to the files. So when I walked past James Gordon and Harvey Bullock, I never thought twice. But when Ed had waved at me, that cute tight lipped smile on his face as I waved back, a smile of my own adorning my face, it drew the attention of the two detectives. 

"Careful Ed,” Harvey mocked. “Don’t wanna scare them off.” Jim only glanced up briefly, not interested in the situation in the least. I watched as Ed’s smile twitched for a second, Harvey’s words seeming to get to him. I felt my smile slip, not liking how they treat him in the slightest.

“He…didn’t do anything wrong,” I shrugged, before waving goodbye, making my way to the record archives. Not only them, but even Kringle was looking at me more than just as a person to vent to. 

“I feel sorry for you,” She stated, adjusting her thick rimmed glasses. Her hazel eyes held their usual air of judgment as she placed some files back in their spots. 

“Why?” I asked, flipping through to find the person I needed. 

“Isn’t it obvious?” She asked, raising one of her perfectly maintained eyebrows. “Edward’s got his eyes on another victim.” I frowned, anger bubbling within me at the way she always found new ways to insult him. 

“I wouldn’t describe it like that,” I managed to grit out. “I find the sentiment sweet.”

“Wait,” Kringle paused, turning to look at me with disbelief. “Do you…like him?”

I sighed, finding it hard to focus on the task at hand with this irritating conversation, “Would there be something wrong with that?”

“Isn’t it kind of weird how fast he switched?” She asked, a hint of jealousy in her tone. “I’m sure it’s only a matter of time before he loses interest in you.”

I slammed the cabinet shut in a bout of rage, leaving the room before I do something I may regret…or lose my job over. As I exited, my scowl worsened when I realized I didn’t even get what I needed. 

“Hello!” Edward’s excited voice greeted me as I entered the break room. When my gaze landed on him, I felt my expression soften, my shoulder’s relaxing. His brown eyes were so expressive, that silly smile on his face never failed to melt my heart. 

“Hey,” I muttered back. Looking over the options in the vending machine. Just get something to eat, and hopefully I’ll feel better. 

“Is…something the matter?” He asked, fidgeting with his glasses. I let out a long sigh as I sat across from him at one of the few tables. 

Taking a bite of my snack, I took some time to gather my thoughts and feelings, “Sometimes I just hate people.”

His eyebrows raised, nervously fidgeting with his tie, “Th-that’s…understandable.”

“Sorry,” I muttered, finally cooling down. “Someone was just saying some really mean things and it got to me.”

Edwards’ demeanor changed in an instant, a frown replacing his smile, and his eyebrows furrowed in a mixture of concern and anger, “Who?”

I blinked, “What?”

“Who insulted you?” He asked, fists clenched. This wasn’t what I was expecting. He would get annoyed, yeah, but he’d always just stew in it until he calmed down. And he was barely angry when I was around, which was something I was proud of. So seeing him react so harshly was unusual. It made me feel a bit appreciated, that he cared enough to get this angry over it, yet it was also unsettling.

“They…they were insulting you,” I clarified, rubbing my arm awkwardly. “And trust me, I was ready to do some things that would’ve gotten me fired.”

Ed blinked, calming down drastically at the revelation, “Oh.” 

“Yeah,” I shrugged. “I swear if she says one more damned thing about you I’m gonna…” I strangled the air, the only way I could express how frustrated her insults made me.

Edward fake coughed, his cheeks tinged a light pink, “I assume you mean Miss Kringle.”

I paused, hoping it didn’t hurt that his past interest was still as rude as ever. “I didn’t even manage to get the files I needed,” I grumbled, hoping to lighten the mood a bit.

“...I can get them for you,” I felt my heart crack. Was he still interested in her? Was that why he was so ready to go into the den of the woman who so readily insults him? 

“Oh, no you don’t have to do that,” I shook my head. “I’ll just have Lee do it.”

Ed blinked, seeming to think over something before standing up, “I’ll be right back.” Before he was fully out the door he paused, “Whose case files did you need?”

I couldn’t help the tiny grin at how eager he was as I gave him the names of the people I needed files on. Yet that smile fell. Was he really so excited to get a chance to see Kringle that he almost left without knowing what files he needed? I finished my snack, getting a drink from the vending machine while I was at it. My mind continued to make up terrible scenarios that could be happening at that moment. How she could manage to crush Ed’s precious heart even more than she’s already managed to.

Ed was back quicker than I realized. It took him less than ten minutes! He set the files I needed on the table, that tight lipped grin on his face as he waited for my input.

“Oh! Thank you!” I thanked, flipping through the files to make sure they were all there. “She didn’t give you any trouble, did she?”

“No,” He replied simply. As I met his gaze, that’s when I finally realized that he was truly over Kringle. I should’ve felt disturbed at how intense his gaze was, at how strong his emotions seemed to be when he wasn’t even trying. Yet I only felt flattered, important, and wanted. Emotions I wasn’t completely used to, and caused my heart to stutter at how strong my own emotions were becoming. 

Standing up, I leaned in and kissed his cheek again, this time a bit more confident then the last time I did. I waved goodbye as I walked out with the files he gave me. I felt pride swell within me as I watched Eddie become a flustered mess as I left. It was a good mood lifter as I watched him fumble with his usual nervous ticks, before he was finally out of my sight. 

…

Edward’s courting tactics only seemed to grow after that. I wasn’t sure what changed him to do so. I could only speculate that Lee had something to do with it. She kept stopping by my office, asking how Ed and I were doing like she hadn’t just seen us the day before. I can’t lie, I was reveling in the attention that Ed was giving me, and I could tell he’d revel in my attention as well. A mutual pining on both sides. 

Normally, I’d be okay with that. Too scared to try and push things forward. Edward Nygma was different. He was just so…amazing. I’ve never felt so strongly towards someone. He was sweet, attentive, smart, and overall lovely. I couldn’t just settle for pining, I wanted to experience what it would be like as his lover. 

Which led me to this horrendous mess up of a confession.

I dressed up a bit nicer than usual, hoping to impress the cute dork. I felt confident in myself, an emotion I don’t feel regularly. I greeted Lee, who seemed like she guessed the occasion and sent me a wink when I walked past. 

“Hey Eddie,” I greeted, setting a cup of coffee down on the counter.

“Oh! Hello,” He greeted me, smiling. “You seem chipper this morning.”

Nudging the coffee towards him I smiled back, “It’s a good day today. I got you a coffee.”

“You didn’t need to,” Ed replied sheepishly, not used to people giving him things. 

I only shrugged, “I wanted to.” I tapped the counter I was leaning on as nerves started to slowly creep through me. So, before my anxiety could get the best of me, I blurted out, “What is mine but only you can have?”

With furrowed eyebrows, Ed actually paused to answer a riddle for the first time during this little game we had. His eyes flitted around the room, like he was trying to avoid the answer. I know he was smart enough to figure it out, so the fact he was taking so long to answer caused my heart rate to spike from anxiety. Maybe this was a bad idea. Maybe I was reading the room wrong. I blame Lee for feeding me a wrong understanding. 

“I…uh…” Ed stuttered over his words, sweat dripping down the side of his face. Shit, shit, shit! I shouldn’t have said that. He does know the answer, I found it online easily, he obviously knows. He doesn’t feel the same and now he’s trying to find a way to politely reject me. 

“Nevermind!” I exclaimed, trying to quell my nerves by getting the fuck out of here. “Stupid riddle! Never needs an answer. I should get to work.”

“W-wait!” Eddie called out, making me stop in my tracks. So close yet so far. “I can be a fruit, I can be on a calendar, I can be important, and I can be forgotten. What am I?”

Turning back around, I watched as Eddie picked at his nails. We both seemed like complete messes at the moment. It was hard for me to think of anything due to my previous failure of admitting my feelings. I bit my lip awkwardly, trying to stop myself from making any more of a fool of myself.

“I…I’m not sure Eddie,” I chuckled solemnly.

Clearing his throat, he adjusted his glasses before admitting, “A date. W-would you accompany me on one?” I stared at him with wide eyes, unsure if I heard him correctly.

“Y-yeah! Of course I will!” That tinge of embarrassment was quickly overpowered by exhilaration. The smile that stretched across my face almost hurt with how big it was. Eddie’s smile was also wide as he still couldn’t meet my eyes.

“Is…is tonight okay? Dinner? 7 o’clock?”

“That sounds perfect.” 

And to make the moment better, I kissed his cheek before parting, excited for what the night held for us.

[theyapper0]

THE HEAVEN CAST!!!!! WHOOOOOOO!!!!!

So first off, we got a redesign for the Exorcist Angel armor. I wanted to keep the colors light so they stand out when in Hell. I was also hugely inspired by Crusades armor, since the Crusades fought for religious territory, I thought taking inspo from there made sense.

Then we have Lute, Emily, Sera and Adam's designs. I'll explain it all under the cut if you're interested!!!

LUTE!!!!!!!!!! Sorry guys but she's basically a different character with the same name at this point

So I think that Lute was like a mentor figure to Vaggie, she was the closest thing Vaggie had to a (sorta) mom but it's defiantly like a student-master relationship.

I think that Vaggie trusted and cared for Lute deeply, she devoted all her time and energy into training in order to make not only Heaven better, but to make Lute proud. Lute was a HUGE driving force Vaggie's martyr complex.

But they were close!!!! The care wasn't just once sided, I think Lute did love Vaggie. I think they both care for each other SO much, that's why it will hurt SO MUCH when it's LUTE as the one to de-wing and banish Vaggie. She LOVED her, she TRUSTED HER!!!!!

Trust that I will be delving deeper into this in the future ✊✊✊

So Emily and Sera's designs and roles in the story are pretty much the same, I liked them in canon! They were fun and offered an interesting addition to the show!!!!

The main thing I chose to change was basically their hair and skin color tbh. I understand what the show was TRYING to do, w the fact that they're supposed to be black (and apparently those are supposed to be dreads in Sera????) but.......... It wasn't good.

With their canon skin color, I know a lot of angels have gray skin but to me, it looked like the designers didn't know whether to make Sera and Emily (especially Sera) gray or flesh colored, which then resulted in them trying to meet it in the middle and left us with this,,,, really ashy looking black skin in some shots which I didn't like.

I decided to just make them a darker gray so they can both be seen as black and also keep consistent with angels having gray skin :)

ALSO THAT ONE DOODLE WITH EMILY LOOKING AT CHAGGIE, I PROMISEEEEEE THAT SHE DOESN'T LIKE EITHER OF THEM LIKE THAT, I JUST DID IT TO BE FUNNY!!!!!!!!!!!!

(I think the ship is cute but personally, it's not for me ^^)

And finally..... ADAM!!!!!!!!!!!

So like Lute, Adam is basically a completely different character with that same name just slapped on.

I REALLY didn't like him in the show to be honest. I think we was an enjoyable character at times but he's totally like my second to last fav character (with my LEAST favorite being Lucifer LOL). I think it was an interesting take on Adam definitely!! To see him so cocky and full of himself bc of his title but....... It was just very...... Viziepop with the whole "original dick" thing......

Adam is the literal FATHER of humanity!!!? He is EVERYONE'S FATHER!!!!!! I don't understand the point of making him mean aside from the fact that he's supposed to be an opposing force in the show, but even then, just because he's the opposing force, doesn't mean he's gotta be a huge jerk!!!!!

I think it could be more interesting and add more nuisance to the story is Adam WAS this sweet, caring guy who, like the protagonists, is only doing what he thinks is right!

I'll delve more into Adam in my next post BUT everything he does is out of his trust in God and the Seraphims, he trusts them wholeheartedly and despite the fact that the Sinners of Hell were once his children too, he does what he must because his flaw isn't that he's egotistical or an asshole, it's that he cares and trusts with his entire being.

He's also best friends with Kris Kringle

[jtl07]

15 questions for 15 friends

tagged by @possibilistfanfiction!

Were you named after anyone? kinda - my birth name is from a character from a tv series. my preferred name, however, (jt) comes the initials of a "new" name my former coworkers discovered when you say my full name quickly

When was the last time you cried? yesterday, while eating a delicious apple kringle - grief, man. can never expect it.

Do you have kids? nopers - tho i do have a deep love for my friend's kids, especially the youngest

What sports have you played/do you play? my base is in martial arts - grew up with karate, then as an adult muay thai and bjj (did not compete for the former because i hated getting punched in the face; did compete for the latter but mostly local tournaments). sadly never got into weapons, though due to doing military drill in high school and college, if you give me any sort of stick-like object, i will immediately start to spin it lol. i wanna get back into sailing and weightlifting (former i haven't done since high school, latter i got into last year) but trying to pace myself

Do you use sarcasm? only i know you well (or: i'm irritated af)

First thing you notice about people? how tall they are lol (see below re: height)

What is your eye color? brown

Scary movies or happy endings? i cannot handle scary movies worth anything oh god

Any talents? i meow? lol - i love imitating sounds, accents. i have not yet mastered the crows here though. (frustratingly, i'm shit at vocal imitation)

Where were you born? japan! okinawa to be exact

What are your hobbies? walking, napping, getting back into the guitar. oh and yeah, writing

Do you have any pets? sadly, no

How tall are you? sighs the sigh of someone who finally caved and bought a step stool for the kitchen: five feet.

Favorite subject in school? english lit for sure

Dream Job? no job only dream

tagging but absolutely no pressure: @littledata @gowalkyourself @gohandinhand @piratekane @rustingcat

also if you see this and wanna do it, go for it!

[brabblesblog]

𝕽𝖊𝖒𝖊𝖒𝖇𝖊𝖗 𝖞𝖊 𝖓𝖔𝖙 𝖙𝖍𝖊 𝖋𝖔𝖗𝖒𝖊𝖗 𝖙𝖍𝖎𝖓𝖌𝖘.

𝘊𝘩𝘢𝘱𝘵𝘦𝘳 1: 𝘛𝘩𝘦 𝘙𝘰𝘴𝘦 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘐𝘵𝘴 𝘛𝘩𝘰𝘳𝘯𝘴

A sequel to Whither is thy beloved gone? (AO3)

After the events of ‘Whither is thy beloved gone?’ Lord Astarion Ancuńin and his consort wife navigate their relationship anew. The ghosts of the past - his, hers, and theirs - threaten to unravel everything they’ve worked for.

Two months after their first year as the Ascendant and his consort, Astarion hatches a plan to bring him and his beloved closer.

Now professionally edited by @editing-by-night Originally beta'd by @leomonae and @kringle-c

Read on AO3.

Masterlist

Ban and Astarion by @redreart

Astarion exited the carriage, scanning his surroundings before approaching the shop in front of him. The storefront looked worn; one would even think it abandoned, if not for the slightest trace of movement visible through dust-covered windows. There wasn’t any indication as to whether the shop was open.

He looked up at the sign, at the barely legible lettering on it; the paint was chipped and faded, an obvious victim of neglect. A small sigh escaped his lips. Glasscraft and Son.

Ban Glasscraft. That was all she had deigned to tell him the day they’d met; she had been cagey about her past ever since. In his efforts to seduce her he’d tried to ask her the usual, vapid questions, but had gotten nothing in return. Those were the only inquiries he never got a response to, but at the time he hadn’t really cared. She’d just smile and change the topic and he’d allow it; after all, the goal was to win her favor, not to actually get to know her.

And then what were lies had become truth, but by then there hadn’t been enough time.

His knuckles rapped against the door.

“Have a seat, Lord…” The older gentleman trailed off, watching Astarion stand by the proffered stool.

Astarion eyed the seat warily. “Ancunín.” It looked dingy, and he wasn’t sure if he wanted to subject his trousers to it. “I’m perfectly fine where I am, thank you.”

The man nodded. He took a seat in front of his desk, gnarled hands picking up a leather tome. He offered it to Astarion, who approached and took it with no small amount of hesitation at the sight of its stained cover.

“In there’s all of our designs,” the man said. “You can have the frame inlaid with gold or sil-”

“Gold. Silver doesn’t complement my complexion,” Astarion said airily, adopting the manner of a mildly bored nobleman flawlessly.

“Master…”

“Glasscraft, my lord. Roderich Glasscraft.” Roderich stood and came closer; he was bald, a whole head shorter than Astarion, and as he tilted his head to peer at the book Astarion lowered it so that he could see.

“Yes, well.” Roderich tapped one of the mirrors illustrated on the page Astarion had opened the book to. “This is a little dated, design-wise. But it would still look rather beautiful, I think, in the appropriate home.”

Astarion thought the mirror looked relatively contemporary, but didn't comment. Instead, he pointed at the illustration with his index finger. “How much would one of those be, Master Glasscraft? Inlaid with gold.”

Roderich hemmed and hawed, unsure. He hadn’t sold a single full-mounted mirror in what felt like years. He didn’t remember much, didn't want to, really, not after…

Best not to think of that.

“Six, seven thousand?” he surmised. “I could accept a deposit-”

Astarion waved him off. “I’ll be paying in full.”

Roderich stared at him for a long second, shock upon his face. He recovered quickly, clearing his throat. “Very well, Lord Ancunín. I shall draft up the quotation and the work order this instant. May I know where this mirror is to be delivered?”

“The Crimson Palace,” Astarion began, reaching into his pocket to pull out his pouch. “A little north of-”

“The - what’s it now?” Roderich frowned. “I’ve never heard of that place.”

A pregnant silence filled the shop. Normally the name of their home would have been enough; people had heard the news of Cazador Szarr’s erstwhile estate falling into the hands of a certain Lord Astarion Ancunín, who had been firmly referring to it as the Crimson Palace. Roderich Glasscraft, however, seemed to have missed that tidbit.

Resisting the urge to snap, Astarion took a small breath. Just because he no longer loathed hearing his former master’s name didn’t make it particularly pleasant to mention him.

“The former Szarr Mansion,” he provided, terse.

Roderich paled. “The - Szarr Mansion. Cazador Szarr?” While he’d never been the most informed person, Roderich had heard whispers about that nobleman - whispers of dark, decadent parties, of hushed disappearances.

Add to that the fact that Cazador Szarr had been the only nobleman in Baldur’s Gate to never have purchased a mirror from Glasscraft and Son - nor from any other mirror maker.

Whispers, just whispers. But Roderich couldn’t help the shiver that ran down his spine.

“Yes, the very same property.” Astarion made a show of inspecting his fingernails, feigning nonchalance. He gathered that the man before him had probably not heard about the change in ownership of the palace - and how could he? If the condition of the shop was any indication, he doubted this man had ever done anything other than sit here.

“I’ve… inherited the mansion, upon his passing,” he remarked lightly, “and have renamed it to the Crimson Palace. I would appreciate it if you were to use that name from now on.”

“I- yes, my lord, of course.” Roderich bowed effusively. He realized belatedly that the man before him was unusually pale, with bright crimson eyes. He hadn’t seen his mouth open widely enough to determine the presence of fangs, thank the gods, but was that-

A small, circular scar on the man’s neck, barely visible above the lip of his shirt collar.

Roderich almost wanted to scream, but one thing held him back: it was daytime, and he’d seen Lord Ancunín exit his carriage and walk into the shop, hadn’t he?

Astarion tilted his head at the man, hearing his heartbeat spike. He knew the sound all too well - the sound of cornered prey. He wasn’t here for that, of course, and quickly figured out a way to assuage the man’s worries before Roderich had any chance of ruining his plans.

His hand reached into his breast pocket, pulling out a small mirror. He peered into it, angling himself so that Roderich could clearly make out Astarion’s reflection in the glass.

Astarion sighed, sweeping away nonexistent curls as if they had fallen into his eyes. “Thank you, Master Glasscraft. When can I expect the mirror to arrive?”

The sight of the man’s reflection calmed Roderich. He took a breath. “In two tendays, my lord. Possibly sooner, depending on how sourcing the materials goes.”

“Very well,” Astarion drawled, putting his mirror away. He couldn’t help himself and shot Roderich a grin that was a little too wide, revealing the very tips of his fangs for a split second. “Are you able to do it in one? Of course, you will be handsomely compensated for the inconvenience.”

He needed the mirror delivered when Ban wasn’t home; he knew she’d be in Rivington for most of that day, meeting Shadowheart.

Roderich didn’t miss the bright flash of sharp teeth, shuddering. He felt a bit bad; obviously this Lord Ancunín wasn’t what he thought he was, with both walking in the sun and having a reflection.

“It can be done, my lord,” he said, a little too quickly.

Coin changed hands, then Astarion left the shop with the contract.

The moment he arrived home, Astarion rushed to their study. Heading to his desk, he stuffed the contract into a drawer.

“You don’t even say hello to your wife anymore?” a voice called out, and he slammed the drawer shut, momentarily panicked. He turned to face her, rearranging his features into something resembling composure.

“Saw the carriage arrive,” Ban added by way of explanation; she’d watched him march towards their study like a man on a mission. A rather curious sight, one that piqued her interest, but she put off questioning him about it for now.

“Ah - well. I wanted to put work aside as fast as possible,” he stammered out, approaching her and wrapping his arms around her waist in one swift move. “So I could… ”

He nuzzled into the top of her head, inhaling deeply, inwardly begging himself to calm down. “Mm. So I could focus on my dearest darling.”

“You’d get away with a lot less, you know, if you weren’t so-” The words died in her throat as a hand traveled south from her waist to the curve of her ass, squeezing it.

He looked down at her with half-lidded eyes. “If I wasn’t so… what? Care to finish that thought, love?” Teasing, light. He knew she’d noticed his poor attempt at hiding the contract, but hoped he could at least distract her from prying further right now. He tried to herd her back out the door and hopefully to their bedroom.

“Roguish,” she provided, “handsome, dashing…”

“Keep going,” Astarion smirked. They made it past the doorway, Ban walking backwards. He gently crowded her against the wall of the hallway, caging her with his arms.

She stared up at him, considering what to say next. He was nervous, that much she could tell - as if there was something he wanted to hide, yet despite himself was also begging for her to see.

Free me. Find out, so I don’t have to keep lying.

“Sweetheart,” she began. The words were on the tip of her tongue, to ask him what was wrong; but there was that look in his eyes that said not now, please, and so she didn’t push, opting for playfulness instead. “You really think you can handle all the words I have to describe you with?”

“Try me.” He attempted to lean down for a kiss, laughing when she dodged it and slipped out from under his arms. As much as he was doing this to hide the contract from her, he was also enjoying himself.

“Let’s see. Pompous. Mischievous. Conceited… Do you still want me to keep going?” She began rattling off words, raising a finger at each, as if counting them off. She ke[t walking backwards as he advanced on her, but not towards their bedroom.

The servants all murmured greetings as they passed; they both ignored them.

“Alright, you’ve had your fun,” Astarion countered, a brief flash of fangs visible as he grinned at her. He noticed her taking a left and he tilted his head, curious. He didn’t question it, though, simply following her as she rounded the corner of the hallway, leaving enough distance to properly give the impression of prowling after her.

Ban reached the double doors at the end of the hallway, pushing them open to head out to the gardens.

“Here?” Astarion said, more amused than anything. The groundskeeper approached them, weary eyes immediately recognizing his masters’ intent. He quickly snapped a command to the other gardeners to clear out.

She watched them go, then made her way to sit on the stone bench beside the fountain. “Why not? This place is ours, no? We’re afforded privacy here.”

As the doors were shut behind them he rounded on Ban, the dangerous glint in his eye unmistakeable. He arched an eyebrow. “Honestly, I wouldn’t care if they saw us - if anyone saw us.” He knew she did, though, if only slightly more than he, and for her sake he took one last cursory look around the garden, finding no other soul present.

With their privacy assured he straddled her, his weight settling comfortably on her muscled thighs, lips moving to press against hers. The smell of the roses, of the freshly trimmed grass mixed with scent of her skin - altered, but still the same - stirred some memory in him; his hips twitched and his eyes fell shut. There was still that fear, that worry that she’d obviously seen through what he was trying to do, but Astarion reassured himself he’d tell her anyway. Soon.

Whenever soon ended up being, anyway.

He didn’t want to risk this yet, their endless days of seemingly nothing but happiness, the hours of bliss seeming likely to stretch on into eternity.

“Lie down,” he murmured to her, completely missing that impish grin and the look that crossed her face. As she began to shift under him he let his body follow suit, ready for what would come next-

He felt himself lose his balance, his weight shifting off-center as something shoved him, and he managed a strangled gasp as he landed in the fountain.

He landed on his ass; the water was freezing. His undead body wasn’t harmed by it, but it still felt unpleasant. He sat, clothes now drenched and his hair sopping wet. Indignation filled him; the first thing he wanted to do was scold her, but begrudging amusement won out.

“What was that for?” He looked down at his clothes, his ivory shirt soaked. So much care taken not to dirty them at the shop, only for them to end up drenched in fountain water, anyway. No harm done, but still.

Above him, Ban stod, laughing. She reached out, offering him a hand. Her laughter was infectious; he found his lips forming a smile before he could stop them. Still, he took the proffered hand and let Ban yank him up onto his feet. Astarion stood there for a moment, admiring her strength, then groaned as he belatedly realized that his shoes were also waterlogged and likely damaged.

“Sorry,” she said, although she was anything but. “I think another word would suit you here - gullible.”

For a moment Astarion scrambled for something to say. I could have dissolved! came to mind, but he thought that would only add to her malicious joy. Instead, he opted for disarming her; his hands found the laces of his shirt, and he began to untie them slowly. He let his fingers linger on the exposed skin, allowing her time to savor the sight.

“You ruined my clothes,” he snapped with feigned indignation, fingers still unraveling the laces with a painful lack of speed as he kept his eyes on his prize. “I think some… compensation is in order.”

“As if you don’t get it every single day, Astarion,” she said, crossing her arms in front of her. A little seed of concern took root at his words, ones which sounded all too familiar and all too like his former views on sex. She scanned his face and found that yes, he was just playing here, the twinkle in his eyes telling her he was alright.

He smirked. “True,” he acknowledged. With the laces loose he pulled the sopping shirt over his head, tossing it at her to catch her off guard. It smacked her in the chest with a wet splat, then fell to the ground.

He stepped over the lip of the fountain and onto grass, the squelch of his shoes unwelcome and unpleasant. Leaning down to take them off, he sighed softly as he slipped them off and set them by the bench. “Those shoes were wyrmhide.”

“Are wyrm-hide,” she corrected. “They’ll be fine. Don’t be so-”

The rest of her words were swallowed by his mouth. In a heartbeat he had closed the gap, devouring her lips, hands grasping her ass and kneading. All thought disappeared at the feel of Astarion suddenly being everywhere, and Ban let a small, choked gasp escape her.

He pulled back enough to peer at her face. “You were saying?” he purred, smug. He always knew exactly how to derail her train of thought, a talent that he had admittedly abused in the past. Nowadays he merely uses it to tease…

Well. Maybe he was using it to distract her from the contract. Astarion considered this a necessity at the moment, however, at least until he was ready to approach her with the information.

Besides, he knew she saw through most of his guile now. Ever since they’d reconciled, her perception had only been increasing - vulnerable as that made him feel, there was also a sense of joy at being seen again.

“I was going to say quit whining,” Ban replied, although the intended effect was lost with how breathy the words came out. Astarion’s eyes crinkled in genuine mirth, and he took her hips, moving her around to face the bench.

She’d let him win this round, she thought. Probably.

He growled against her ear. “Make me.” There was no real bite to the words, only sensual challenge. As he nudged her forward she took a step back towards him, pressing her ass against his clothed cock. He hissed, the fingers on her hips digging in hard; a small, playful warning.

“Seems like I already did.” Ban slowly undid the laces of her trousers, huffing in satisfied amusement at the sound of his low groan behind her. The hands on her hips aided her in pushing her trousers and underwear to her ankles, their movements clumsy and rather impatient.

Every inch of the firm, muscular ass that was revealed made Astarion’s already miniscule amount of restraint decrease. He lowered himself, sitting on his haunches, fangs already bared. All thought of the contract, of his worries, were temporarily gone - all he saw was that expanse of skin and the thought of the delectable heat that laid hidden between her legs. He pressed a kiss to one ass cheek, and let his fangs drag against the supple skin, a quiet request for permission.

Her lips curled into a small smile. “You may, sweetheart,” she said; and the moment the words left her she felt the sharp sting of fangs, sinking into the meat of her ass. A gasp escaped her lips as Astarion tore further into her flesh, the pain exquisite. She felt the soft suction of his mouth as he fed; the fingers digging into her hip traced a meandering path along her skin and raised goosebumps in their wake, before slipping between her legs to find her clit. The combined sensation of his mouth and those fingers caressing her there made her instinctively bend over, hands gripping the stone bench and elbows locking to keep herself stable.

How annoying, really, that all her husband had to do to waylay her plans was this - not that she was complaining. Whatever it was that he’d attempted to keep hidden wouldn’t be hard to find if need be, seeing as she’d seen him shove it in the drawer. Moreover, she did plan on asking him about it after this little tryst. But for now…

He licked off the last rivulets of blood; languidly lapping at her wounds in long, slow strokes, then stood back up. He took in the view of Ban bent over, so obviously wanting him. The thought, of course, went immediately to his cock, his hand absently ghosting over the bulge in his trousers.

The thought of taking her here in the garden, in nature, brought forth a flash of memory: that night in the clearing, when they had first been together. The thought made him wistful; his lips curled in a smile.

“Taking your time?” Ban teased, curious at the sudden pause in Astarion’s movements. He worked his own trousers off without ceremony, the quiet sounds of his belt being unbuckled and the rasp of damp cloth against skin the only noise as he pushed what was left of his clothing down and off.

Now completely nude, Astarion approached her, pressing his cock along the cleft of her ass. “Just remembering something,” he said, voice rather somber. Ban immediately noticed, and even as she could feel him slowly rutting against her she frowned.

“Astarion? Is something wrong?”

“No, not really. Merely remembering how far we’ve come.”

And how much more there is left to go.

It wasn’t that right now was bad. He was happier than ever - most of the time. His astuteness allowed him to curtail most situations where Ban would inevitably begin to withdraw from him. However, Astarion knew this wasn’t enough; that there was still so much hurt left to heal, and as much as he wanted it now, he had no choice but to wait. Knew that she didn’t completely trust him either, even as he laid his heart and soul in her palm every waking moment.

It felt unfair at times, in an if I have to do it why can’t she way, but he let it go every time. He loved her too much to ever really push her into something she wouldn’t willingly do, especially after his behavior those first six months after the rite.

Astarion let those thoughts linger for a moment more, then returned his focus to his cock - not a difficult task, with how aroused he was. He was hard, the tip flushed pink and aching to sink home. A quick swipe with his thumb to spread his precum over the head, and he gently grasped Ban’s hips, guiding himself down, past her ass to her warm, wet entrance. The heat was pleasurable, and he stilled there for a moment, his length lightly pressed along her folds.

“If you’re sure you’re alright,” Ban said, and the playfulness was gone, replaced with mild concern. She didn’t turn around, couldn’t see him, but Astarion’s voice merely seemed pensive rather than anything more worrisome.

“Quite,” Astarion reassured her, rubbing his cock back and forth against her clit. Her slickness let him slide smoothly against her, and they both groaned. Of course he was alright; niggling thoughts aside, she loves him, and that was enough. For now.

He rubbed against her one last time and finally pushed in, parting her folds, cock sinking into her heat without another thought. Home.

Ban felt him thrust into her, his length filling her, that all-too-familiar feeling of being stretched that quickly transitioned into pleasure as he took his rightful place within her core. She braced against the bench as his hips began to roll.

A soft fuck escaped Ban’s lips as Astarion began to move. He chuckled, stilling for a moment. “What was that, love?”

“Do I really need to explain?” she snapped. Long, elegant fingers dug into her hips, their grip tight. He drew himself most of the way out, then suddenly plunged in, hitting her spot hard.

“No,” Astarion drawled, the confidence back in his tone. “It would be pleasant to hear, though.” His thrusting was fast, insistent - pulling out and then slamming back in with enough force that it left Ban breathless and holding on for dear life.

Ban’s vision swam, the green of the grass and the red of the roses blurring together as Astarion fucked her. The sound of his ragged breathing, the feel of those talented fingers digging into her skin, the feeling of his cockhead hitting her spot with every stroke - these were things she’d never tire of, she thought, even if they did this every day for all eternity. She’d been craving him, addicted to him, ever since that night in the clearing - no, even before that. She’d wanted him since the moment he asked for help on that godsdamned beach.

The sound of their lovemaking fills the air; it was a raw, primal thing that was full of need and desire - an attraction so strong there wasn’t room for anything else when they were lost in one another. Astarion chased it, that heady feeling slowly uncoiling from his core outwards, that need to explode and to give her what she deserved, to love her with his body, even as he feared that it may be too late for her to ever fully love him back. Because of him, he reminded himself. Not her.

“Hear what?” she teased, and he smirked at the challenge in her voice. With a slight change in the motion of his hips, he rolled them instead, dragging his cockhead against her favorite spot with every thrust. Ban felt the shift; the increased friction made her clench around him.

The tightness around Astarion’s cock intensified and he groaned, the idea of their little contest almost forgotten, but not fully. He kept the pace relentless, and he let out a pleased laugh as anything else she wanted to say dies in favor of a low, needy keening.

“That,” Astarion said, his pace only increasing. He could feel his climax approaching, the fire beginning to burn low in his belly. Quickly he pulled himself out and in one hungry move he knelt and spread her open to lap greedily at her clit, before plunging his cock back inside her and resuming the same punishing pace.

Ban let out a loud whine; the sound only pushed Astarion closer to the edge. Fingers digging in deeper against her hips, nails sinking into skin, his own hips slamming home even harder, he fucked her, all other thoughts and concerns blissfully gone for the moment.

He snaked a hand between her legs, fingers slipping down her mound to stroke her clit in that rhythm only he knew, making her buck against him. The position wasn’t the best, with Ban bent over and elbows locked straight, Astarion curled over her; but it didn’t matter, not when the only thing that existed was them and the love-born lust burning within them.

Astarion knew he wouldn't last much longer; even now he was skirting the edge, barely holding on. He focused on keeping the rhythm of his fingers consistent, their path unchanging, as his own hips juddered and lost their pace. She was close, he could tell, from the way her voice caught to the way her hips canted backwards against him; wanting more of him inside her, as if he wasn’t already buried from root to tip.

“Fuck, Ast-” was the last thing she managed to say before she came, her body jerking hard and her walls clenching around his cock; his fingers continuing their ministrations as she erupted. The feeling of being squeezed as he thrusted, the way her walls hugged him and the sudden surge of warmth from her did him in, and he felt his cock pulse, finally spilling inside her.

He heard her moan his name and he called out to her in turn, as they both drowned in the ocean of their desire.

When the world finally resumed spinning Astarion opened his eyes. He was still buried inside her, and he gingerly pulled out. He pulled his hand away from her hip, a little sheepish about the marks his fingernails had left on her skin even as they already began to fade, her vampiric nature beginning to heal them immediately.

“I love you,” Ban said, as she straightened up and faced him. She felt weak-kneed and light. “Can we head to our room, Astarion? Bathe, maybe? I mean…” She gestured at their surroundings. “I do feel slightly dirty.”

Astarion laughed. “It didn’t bother you that time in the clearing. Why have scruples about rolling around in the dirt now?”

“Says the man who panicked about his clothes getting wet,” she countered.

   Astarion leaned back against the walls of the tub, Ban resting against his chest. She’d been silent, and he hadn’t dared ask why, correctly guessing the cause.

“Astarion… ” she began calmly, carefully. “What was that thing you were in a rush to put away today?”

Shit. He weighed his options and settled for the truth. “Something I got for you,” he offered unhelpfully.

“Is that so? Then why were you so secretive about it?”

“It’s a gift,” Astarion said, a tad stiffly. “A bit of decor for our bedroom. I’m sure you’ll indulge your husband in his little surprises, won’t you?”

He didn’t really know what to say, knowing he was deflecting by talking about the mirror itself and not the information that was truly at the heart of the matter.

She sighed and acquiesced. “Fine. I can wait.” Ban shifted, nuzzling against his chest; he wrapped his arms around her and sighed.

“Good.” He was relieved, and he pressed a kiss on the top of her head. “You’ll find out what it is soon enough, and I’ll tell you everything then.”

A promise, layered in another, lesser one. One he swore to abide by, even if she didn't know he’d made it.

If you would like to see more of these two and their story, consider reading my other entries in the series "If I ascend up into heaven, thou art there: if I make my bed in hell, behold, thou art there." Taglist: @elora-the-slutty-songstress @tragedybunny @spacebarbarianweird @ayselluna @enterthedreams @coltaire @qiific3 @misscrissfemmefatale @vixstarria @eatyourheartoutmylove @linllewellyn @ battisonsgf @micropoe10 @thegoodwitchs-blog @akirahime @velcyrptrr @i-cant-get-into-my-other-account @babblebrain-blog @asterordinary @last-but-not-the-least @artist4theworld @gracemisconduct @decadentcoffeewizard @rootin-tootin-n-kind@pursuitseternal @youngtacobanana @krispeenuggiez @girlygmer-blog @cheezits4lyfe @vinegarjello @the0ldmann @wisteriaofthegraves @girlygamer-blog

[snowxstormworld]

JonerysWinterWonderland2023 - masterlist

Thanks so much to everyone who participated in Jonerys Winter Wonderland 2023! Despite the holiday season hubbub, you found time to celebrate our favorite couple Jon & Dany with your creativity, making the joyous season more festive for everyone.

And a HUGE shoutout to the #JONERYS fandom for supporting our artists by reading, reblogging, and commenting on their works. Here's to a Jonerys-filled 2024!

Below is the master list for #JonerysWinterWonderland2023:

Day 1 - Holiday Magic; All I want for Christmas/Yuletide/Winter Solstice is You (Naked) 🎄 🎁 I wanna be your end game moodboard by @jupiterix 🎁 Tis' the damn season by @miss-celestia13 🎁 Yuletide fanart by @tatticstudio55 🎁 Winter Solstice is You fanart by @tatticstudio55 🎁 Til the End of Time by @evax3 🎁 Born as a dragon and raised as a wolf by @rhaegarblackfire 🎁 like the olden days, happy golden days of yore by @girlwithakiwi 🎁 All I Want for Christmas is You moodboard by @youwerenevermine 🎁 The Second Chance Holiday Club by @buttertheflame 🎁 A Perfect Christmas by @littledancer9

Day 2 - There's no place like home for the holidays; A kinky Kris Kringle gift exchange🎄 🎁 Lover moodboard by @jupiterix 🎁 Secret Santa at the firm by @saltyd3 🎁 Wool to Brave the Seasons by @miss-celestia13 🎁 Annual Night's Watch Brewery Yankee Swap by Lemonzest111 🎁 A gift for Principal Targaryen by @rhaegarblackfire

Day 3 - Baby it's Cold Outside; Who needs Santa when you have me?🎄 🎁 King of My Heart moodboard by @jupiterix 🎁 Yours First - A Christmas Special by @libradoodle1 🎁 An unexpected rescue by @rhaegarblackfire

Day 4 - Kiss Me Under the Mistletoe; Ice & Fire; Naughty & Nice🎄 🎁 So It Goes moodboard by @jupiterix 🎁 A bride for the King in the North by @rhaegarblackfire 🎁 Love Story fan video by @axdragons

Day 5 - Cheers to the New Year; A sexy sleigh ride; free choice🎄 🎁 Meet me at Midnight moodboard by @jupiterix 🎁 Christmas Cookies fan edit by @libradoodle1 🎁 Enchanting Holidays by @saltyd3 🎁 Dashing through the Snow fic teaser by @magalidragon 🎁 ...Peace by @jellybeanficwriter 🎁 Fake it Till We Make It by @rone-of-house-targaryen 🎁 Happy New Year moodboard by @youwerenevermine

*credit goes to @youwerenevermine for the beautiful headers. We love your creative flair; thanks for always making us so extra!

[juvenillia]

~ second death ~ Johnny 'Soap' MacTavish x fem!reader [hurt fic]

summary: Johnny has to prepare himself for a special day, that he never believed would come.

a/n: what can I say? I read this quote and had to get those broken feelings out of my system sorry not sorry we like to suffer

cw/tw: angst, hurt (no comfort), mentions of loss, death, petnames, there is some fluff in between

worcount: 1.8k

》Read on AO3《 》Master Post《

"There was before you and there was during you. For some reason, I never thought there would be an after you." - Colleen Hoover

The look in the mirror, nothing more than a tired reflection of him, staring in the distant. Johnny always knew that his job was hard. That it was full of vicious events repeating one another. But he always came back, especially after he found a reason to which to return to.

"Can I help you?", you asked him with your sweetest smile. He only stood there, literally staring at you. When he was on leave, he always dropped by the traditional bakery in his hometown. Mr. Kringle would already know what he ordered. It was always the same, a pair of the fudge brownies with white chocolate inside and a regular coffee. He didn't expect to be greeted by a new face. "Uhrm. Can ye recommend something?" He suddenly sounded so insecure. So, unlike his physical appearance. Your eyes trailed over the different things separating the two of you behind the glass. "I do fancy these. They're sweet but not to over the top and go perfectly with a black coffee." You explained softly pointing at the baked goods. He didn't even look at them, his eyes are pinned at your soft features. Trying to burn every feature in his brain and he only nodded. "Would you like anything else?", you said soothing while packing his order with such a careful and lovely manner. "Yer number." He was so straightforward, his voice much more confident and you couldn't help the blush growing on your cheeks. Of course, you gave him your number.

He changed; the last mission was harder. Harder than he ever thought, because for the first time he had the feeling, the fear, of not returning. And somehow, he didn’t. A part of him stayed there. A part of him died in Las Almas. That was the first time John MacTavish died. His glance flashes to the bed of your shared bedroom. Well folded sheets, silky in a wonderful olive green. They still hold your scent. It is the only thing that keeps him sane. It is the only thing that lulls him to sleep. He wasn’t able to change those sheets since he returned.

"I like the green ones. They complement the lights when the sun rises.", you chimed while holding the fabric in your delicate fingers. "Whatever yer want, mo ghraidh." [my love] he placed a soft kiss onto the crone of your head. "Johnny.", you exhaled jokingly annoyed. "What?" - "It's gonna be your home too, you can't let me decide everything.", you said while placing the sheets in the shopping cart and hooking your arm around his. He only smiled at you. "Whatever makes you smile, makes me happy."

His eyes return to the image in the mirror. He adjusts the bow tie around his neck. Smoothing out some wrinkles in the suit he wears. He hates suits. Especially this one.

"Bloody ‘ell, MacTavish. It isn't that hard to pick a damn suit.", Simon exhaled annoyed while Johnny puts on what feels like the millions suit. "It has to be perfect. Alright?!", he yelled from the changing room where he just fought with those tight pants. Maybe he gained some muscles again and should buy a larger one. You definitely wouldn't mind. "She isn't marrying the suit; she is marrying ya. And that is already a miracle itself mate.", Simon explained while scrolling through his phone. Johnny paused his movements and grins like a mad man. Bended over he looked in the tiny mirror in front of him, but not at himself. More like in the distant. " 'm gonna marry her.", his voice is filed with pure sincerity.

His fingers run over the side of the bed where you always slept. The mattress still having an imprint of your figure where you were lying all the time. The spot he now sits down and would just love to be swallowed by the soft mattress.

"Love...", you exhaled only above a whisper. He only pushed him closer into you, his head resting on your chest and counting your heartbeat while trying to steady his own. You absently let your hand play with the strand of his hair. "It’s alright. I’m here with you.", you chimed in your sing song voice. He only nuzzled his head further into you while squeezing your sides. "I love ya, bonnie." You only kissed the top of his head. “I love you too.”, he closed his eyes again and drifted away once more.

His eyes trail over to the window. Showing a little garden. It was neatly organized. Flowers blooming everywhere. The ones right in front if the window, they were your favorites.

"MacTavish, you're an unbelievable idiot.", you cried out while cleaning the mud from your face. He wrapped his arms around your waist, hands full of dirt. "And all yours, my dear.", he chimed while picking you up and swirling your around. Holding you close in his embrace. "Forever, yours.", he repeated softly before letting your lips meet his. You cupped his cheeks, but mostly to get revenge. Greasing the mud all over his face, just like he did a few minutes before. "Ya gonna regret that." He snickers, while you pulled out if his embrace and started running away from him. The laugh never ending while he chased you and pulled you down into the still wet grass and planted kisses all over your face. It was his favorite melody.

He pushes himself up from the bed and goes downstairs. Simon is already here, as well as Kyle. He looks at them, wearing those suits he knew too well. They look back at him. Their faces wear a weak smile, and Johnny only nods before his eyes drift over to the kitchen to the right.

"Bonnie, we have guests.", Johnny yelled out while entering your house. You walked downstairs to greet his teammates. "Nice to see you again. Tea?", you chimed while heading over to the kitchen and pulling the kettle down from the shelf. "I still think ya don't deserve her, Soap.", Kyle said while following you. "When yer hold hostage blink twice.", he said looking at you, and Johnny just pushed him gently in the side. "Ya can always call, when he does something stupid.", Simon assured you. Pulling out their usual mugs from the shelf above you. "So, you mean like all the time?", you asked jokingly. You all laughed. During these times the world seemed alright.

It's silent. The two men only look at him, nodding silently. Johnny swallows hardly before heading outside to Simon's car. The taller man taking the driver’s seat. Johnny sinks int the passenger seat and closes his eyes.

"You won't drive. Please you're way too battered, love.", you pulled him away from the driver’s seat and he lets you. Simon gently took the keys out of Johnny's hand. "Aye. But you dae wanna make out with me still. Eh?", his walk was sloppy as you helped him in the backseat, still wearing the smile you fell in love with in the first place. Kyle took the passenger’s seat in the front. "Always." You placed a quick peek on his cheek while securing the seatbelt before moving into the car next to him. Reaching out for his hand.

The men climb out of the car and head right into the church. With every step forward it grows heavier. Johnny wants to run away. He wants to turn away. Simon and Kyle are right behind him. Simon’s hand lingered on his shoulder. His face is serious, but never cold.

"Finally satisfied?", Kyle asked in a mocking tone. "I hope so.", Simon exhaled quite annoyed. They wore the suits Johnny picked out and they stood in front of a mirror. Johnny nodded. "She's gonna love it.", he beams in happiness and even Simon couldn't suppress the smile growing at his lips.

They enter the church you loved so much. Everything seemed so pretty. Too pretty. The place is decorated in your favorite flowers. Your friends and family are all gathered together. A man walks up to the front and starts a speech.

"I just can't put all my feelings for her in a minute speech. How is this supposed to work?!", he panicked and Simon scoffs. "Just imaging what you really want her to hear. A few things you always wanted to say to her but never found the right time to.", he stated calm. Kyle and Johnny looked at him in disbelief. "That could actually work." - " That’s why I am yer best man..."

So, he stands up straight and starts his speech. Hands gripping tight on a little paper in his hands. Every word is heavy on his tongue, but he manages to push through and holds the tears back. "I never realized how lost I was in this world until I looked into your eyes. In those pretty eyes I found my home. And when I heard your voice for the first time, I heard my future. I committed myself completely and only to you, and I would do it again and again. Forever yours.", his voice goes quiet. Nobody of the guests would really understand his words, but you would. That is the only thing that matters. His heart is shattered into pieces as he places a ring down into the earth. A ring you was meant to wear. A ring he got long time ago because he was sure about it. Sure, about you.

"Yer lost mate.", Simon exhaled shocked while looking at the little box Johnny held out to him. "Why?" - "Ya know her for a month, went to yer first date like two ago and yer already got 'her a ring??" Johnny chuckled, his eyes lingering on the box. "I know she's the right one Lt. I just know." Simon only shook his head, but a soft smile was on his lips.

This was the moment all the people around him witnessed the second death of Johnny MacTavish. There was before you. A time Johnny can't remember at all. Because you changed it all for him. The time during your shared life was everything he ever wanted. Everything he never thought he could have. And somehow, he never thought there would be time after you but here you were. He always supposed he would leave way before you, but that wasn't the case. Here is he standing surrounded by people that love you, but nobody could understand what you meant to him. Nobody of them would understand the love he's holding for you. Nobody would understand that with your leaving you also took him with you.

[eridanisanenby]

Atlantis Attacks

Ant Ant

Arkham Asylum

Agent A (Alfred)

Amity Arkham

Amadeus Arkham

All-American comics

Baxter Building

Bombastic-Bag man

robert Bruce Banner

james Buchanan “Bucky” Barnes

Black Blot/Blackagar Boltagon

elizabeth “Betsy” Braddock

Brian Braddock

william “Billy” Braddock

Billy Batson

Beast Boy

Blue Beetle

Boston Brand

BlueBird

Bouncing Boy

Carl “Crusher” Creel

Captain Carter

nathan Christopher Charles summers/Cable

Curtis "Curt" Connors

Caped Crusader

oswald Chesterfield Cobblepot

Captain Cold

Captain Carrot

Catherine Cobert

Cressida Clarke

Crocky the Crodile

Doctor Darrk

Doctor Destiny

Dorthy Duncan

Ding-Dong Daddy

yankee Doodle Dandy

Dinah Drake

Darla Dudley

Damien Darhk

(new) Fantastic Four

Four Freedoms plaza

Fin Fang Foom

Freedom Fighters

Freddy Freeman

Felix Faust

Guardian of the Galaxy

Green Goblin

Guy Gardener

Gorilla Grodd

Gotham Gazette

Gotham Globe

Gotham General

Green Guardsman

Golden Glider

Glorious Gordon Godfrey

Happy Hogan

Hank Hensley

Hank Hall (Hawk)

Henry “Hank” Henshaw

Hank Hall

Hippolyta "lyta" Hall

Hank Haywood

Jessica Jones

John Jonah Jameson

Katherine “Kate” Kane

Kristen Kringle

Kip Kettering

Lacie Lorraine

Loki Laufeyson

Lunella Lafayette

Lonnie Lincoln

Lois Lane

Lex Luther

Lighting Lad

Linda Lee

Luma Lynai

Lana Lang

Laura Lang

Louise Lincoln

dinah Laurel Lance

Linda Lang

Lena Luther

MasterMind

May Melinda

Miles Morales (og 42)

Meows Morales

Michael Morbius

Multiverse of Madness

MilkMan Man

Mateo Maximoff

Marya Maximoff

Mole Man

Mister Mxyptlk “Mxy”

M’gann M’orzz/Megan Morse/Miss Martian

Mia “Maps” Mizoguchi

Mary Marvel

Miguel Montez

Music Master

Mr. Miracle

Mirror Master

Mad Mod

Malcolm Merlyn

Maria Mercedes Mooney

Matches Malone

Monsieur Mallah

Nia Nal

Olivia Octavius (doctor Octopus/doc Ock)

Pepper Potts

Peter Parker(s)

Pabitr Prabhakav

Peni Parker

Peter Porker

Pedro Peña

Penny Plunderer

Quasar’s Quantum bands

Quentin Quale

Reed Richards

Rocket Raccoon

Richard Rider

Roberto “Robbie” Reyes (og 69)

Rachel Roth (Raven)

Ronald Raymond

SlapStick

Sun Spider

Scarlet Spider

Serpent Society

Super Skrull

Silver Sable/Silvija Sablinova

Sinister Syndicate

Sinister Six

Steven Strange (dr Strange)

Sybil Silverlock

Susan “Sue” Storm

Spider-Society

Samuel Sterns

Sebastian Shaw

Suicide Squad

Star Sapphire

Silver St. Cloud

Secret Six

Pter Ptarker (TT)

Taneleer Tivan

Tyros The Terrible (Terrax)

Teen Titans

Titans Tomorrow

Tom Turbine

Traci Thirteen

Unus the Untouchable

Vicki Vale

Valerie Vale

Web Warriors

Wade Winston Wilson

Wallace “Wally” West

Wallace “ace” West II

Wonder Woman

Warlock the Wizard

Wizards & Warlocks

Zatanna Zatara

Zachary Zatara

Zilius Zox

Duela Dent Napier Nigma

Cooper Coen/Web Weaver

Matthew Michael “Matt” Murdock/DareDevil

Kamala Khan/Ms. Marvel

Otto Octavius (doctor Octopus/doc Ock)/Superior Spider-man

Victor Von doom/Doctor Doom

Warren Worthington III/ArchAngel

Cassandra “Cass” Cain/Black Bat

J’onn J’onnz/John Jones/Hank Henshaw/Martian Manhunter

Kei Kawade/Kaiju Kid(/Kid Kaiju)

Mitchell Mayo/Condiment King

Max Mercury/Windrunner Whip WhirlWind

Red Robin/Joker Junior

Cletus Cortland Kassidy (Carnage)

Clark Kent

Conner “Kon” Kent

Chemical King

Carrie Kelley

Killer Croc

Karen Crane

Seaboard City

Total alliteration: 207

[illimitablespaces]

1, 8, 9, 10, 12, 20.

1. What are you reading now?

Not much, I'm sorry to say. Not any particular book, I mean.

I'm feeling the call of autumn approach swiftly, and with that, certain favorite poets of mine seem seasonally appropriate. My reason for this is none other than a subjective association I've made over the years, and perhaps a touch of imagistic relevance.

Gottfried Benn is one--a sort of contemporary of Eliot, and while my knowledge of German literature and poetry is lamentable,  in translation he reads as a modernist, with a more sarcastic bite.

Another is Rilke, whose work I've known a little longer than Benn's. Rilke is decidedly Romantic and "soft" in a sheltered sort of way, though his poetic prowess is masterful. As an aside, Benn was critical of Rilke and his, shall we say, privileged mode of living:  "... in the end, everything comes up roses, another castle is found, from where he addresses the poor, hears god, and ruffles the poultry coop..."

My, my... quite an assessment. One I'm not altogether contesting but rather, it doesn't make much difference to be critical of the dead--they cannot defend themselves nor can we hold them accountable in a proper court of law, and much less hold their conduct as a personal slight against later generations. In short, Rilke, the man and "repository of great poetry," is dead--what issue I (or others) may have with his human behavior is no one's business but God's alone. Of course, we must be critical of the work as it is, and its standing within the literary canon. Separate then, the artist from his art, otherwise one will run the risk of having to contend with an awful lot of knotted knickers.

Back to my point--Rilke is lovely if you want to experience a quasi-mystical elopement from reality into a hazier, soft-edged realm (much like those misty autumn days I fondly recall), but Benn is a sharper, more piquant view from middle-age, where cynicism keeps disappointment at arm's length (like the brisk air on a crisp autumn morning).

To keep a proper balance, I'm reading a bit of both. Below is one poem from Gottfried Benn (in a translation by Michael Hofmann), one I've shared before, but this includes the original German as well.

8. Name something you are looking forward to?

I haven't thought much of looking forward to anything recently. What a sad thing to admit...

If there must be something, I'm looking forward to the next community day in Pokémon GO at the end of this month. I've been playing since 2020, and it's one of the only things that keeps me sane as I go out of the house. GO is a little distraction from all the noise and commotion in the world, and I can catch and interact with charming digital creatures and continue a part of my childhood that never got to develop at the time.

9. What are you craving right now?

Decisively, a Racine Kringle, preferably a spiced variety.

Trader Joe's used to stock them regularly but for the past several months those sinfully delicious desserts have been curiously absent from the shelves.

I would order it online (from my home state of Wisconsin, where this particular pastry originates) but the usual price is $25(!) and that's without shipping costs, compared to $10 when it's at the local Trader Joe's.

I suppose this may be as good a time as any to finally learn how to make it myself, as I've been saying for years.

10. Favorite animal?

Oh, now this is too difficult for me to choose only one--I am an ardent animal lover and I once had aspirations to become a biologist in my youth, so all animals find a way to my heart in some way or another.

I'm thinking at this very moment birds--in all their beauty and variety--are my favored animal. Birds have a strong personal symbolism for me, as well as artistic significance (many of my poems feature birds, and avian motifs have made their way into my musical composition).

And perhaps more than any other zoological family, birds fascinate me above all other creatures. Color alone is enough but then there are so many shapes, sizes, habits, and *then* there's bird song, and with that, another beautiful aspect of these delightful animals. Indeed, I'm grateful to be witness to these marvels of Creation.

12. Favorite comfort drink?

I've heard of comfort food but never comfort drink... I suppose tea, in certain blends, is a comfort drink for me. Some teas I reserve for specific seasons, and others hold strong meaning within my memory.

Lapsang Souchong is a tea I prefer in the autumn and early winter season. The same goes for any herbal tea with a good dose of cinnamon. The smokiness of one and the warming spice of the other make for cozy cups to sip on chill days and are especially soothing in the evening after dinner.

20. Share a recipe or two?

Again, a difficult decision. However, I wish to share a recipe I've been using for the past 15 years or so. It's a crêpe recipe from Julia Child's book, The Way to Cook. I'm sharing a photo of the page on which the recipe is found, since there is another for dessert crêpes as well.

I enjoy these particular pancakes as an occasional treat, and I especially like them with a smattering of lingonberries. Come to think of it, if I recall correctly, I first tried this recipe a day in August those years ago.

Thank you kindly for your questions, it has been my pleasure answering and sharing them with you--M

[guardianofwonder]

Many influences come together to make my Nicolas Nicolas.

“It was said that he once defeated an entire regiment of calvary with a bent steak knife-while he was eating.” - William Joyce

“He’s a wild man,” Ramsey says. “An adventurer, a warrior, a dynamic force. A big guy who takes over every room. He has two gigantic swords. He kicks down doors. The core idea was, what would a guy who can fly around the world in one night be like? He had to do this with sheer force of will. So we wrapped that dynamo around a guy who loves making toys, whose whole existence is bringing generosity to the world.”

INFLUENCES: Slavic myth, Norse myth, Christian myth, Violent Night, William Joyce’s The Guardians of Childhood and The Man in the Moon, Rise of the Guardians (2012), historical connections to Santa Claus, this amazing webpage outlining information about Veles, & the Rankin/Bass Claymation films.

My Nicolas is very inspired by Nicholas St. North, but the idea of him also being the Slavic god Veles was so interesting to me: I wondered what would come of the muse if I combined them?

NAME: Veles, Nicolas. 

ALIAS: Nicholas St. North, Santa Claus, Saint Nicholas, St. Nick, Kris Kringle, Odin, Wodan, Welnos, Volos, Saint Blaise, The Devil, St. Nicholas the Wonderworker, Sinterklaas, Krampus, Father Christmas, any & every name for Santa Claus.

TITLES: The Guardian of Wonder, the Spirit of Generosity, The Greatest Thief & Bandit Who Ever Lived, The Cossack, Toymaker.

AGE: Indetermined. Very old. Jokes that he’s seen the beginning of time.

GOD OF: fertility, boundaries, order, mischief, magic, invention, cattle, water, earth, the underworld, the dead, music, wealth, trickery, forests, oath-keeping & treaties, retribution, farming, vengeance, psychic ability, the hunt, power, & poetry.

SPIRIT OF: generosity, nature, & invention.

GUARDIAN OF: wonder.

WEAPON: two swords & a spear.

SACRED ANIMALS: bear, wolf, snake, dragon, owl, any farm animals & black birds.

ASSISTANTS: yeti, Leshy, reindeer, & elves.

DOMAIN: Nav/Nawia (The North Pole). In Winter, Nav/Nawia changes from a forest and farmlands to the North Pole, and returns back to its forest-y appearance when Spring arrives.

ABILITIES: shapeshifting (into a dragon or bear or other animal under his domain), using snowglobes to transport himself + others, master swordsmanship, the power of wonder, master craftsman, master inventor, master magician, master toymaker, the gift of the silvertongue (can communicate with all beings + can articulate clearly), 

STRONGEST ABILITY: The Power of Wonder. North has an ability to find the wonder in everything around him which helps him in his creation of toys and inventions. It also boosts his faith in others and resolve, and helps him be jolly and a little childish but gives him a unique insight. His shapeshifting ability is an extension of his Power of Wonder.

APPEARANCE FC: David Harbour in Violent Night (during Winter).

Eric Balfour from Haven (all other seasons).

VOICE FC: Adam Baldwin in Rise of the Guardians.

EYE COLOR: blue, crystal blue.

HAIR COLOR: always has black eyebrows.

white + long, curly hair and beard (during Winter).

dark + short cropped (all other seasons).

red (as Kris Kringle).

CLOTHING: Black fur hat, a long red coat with black trim, black boots, black sheepskin pants, and thick, black gloves (in Winter).

Hawaiian shirt + jeans with tennis shoes and white socks (all other seasons.)

HEIGHT: 6'6".

WEIGHT: 270 lbs.

BODY SHAPE: Big boy. It’s cuffin’ season. Chunky but also muscular.

DISTINGUISHING FEATURES: When appearing as Nicolas, he has tattoos on either arm featuring Naughty + Nice, all sorts of Celtic + Slavic symbols on his torso, arms, and back. Right on the center of his chest + ribs is his Veles snake. Blue eyes, no matter the form. 

If he reveals his true form, as Veles, he will have golden antlers protruding from his long, brown, & curly hair.

NATIONALITY: N/A. Appears Slavic, as that is one of his favorite places, Nicolas has an indistinct Slavic accent that can sound very Russian at times.

GENDER: Masculine. Uses he/him.

SEXUALITY + ROMANTIC IDENTITY: Bisexual and demiromantic.

MORALITY: Chaotic Good.

PERSONALITY: Nicolas is a warrior with a heart of gold. Fierce, demanding and impulsive, everything about him is larger than life. For him, nothing is impossible as long as he believes in it. He is inventive and witty, sarcastic and curious, and immensely willful. He will do whatever he can to save others. He is also fearless, mysterious, caring, and full of wonder.

BIOGRAPHY: Veles had been alive for what feels like all of Time, guarding the border between Yav (the mortal world) and Nav (the underworld). When his worship + power started to wane due to Christianity’s influence across all of the world, and his reputation was tarnished as the Devil, the Man in the Moon offered Veles a new job: become the Guardian of Wonder.

He took the name Nicolas, and decided to embody an aspect of himself that he enjoyed a great deal: Santa Claus.

Nav became the North Pole, its fertile fields turning to snow-encapsulated tundra when Winter struck. No mortal can dare enter the North Pole, not without special permission.

Souls who pass under the Slavic banner end up residing in Nav for all of eternity, and when Nav turns into the North Pole, those who live within Nav can volunteer to help with Santa’s duties, or opt to just enjoy the wintery aspect of the realm. Those who are favored by Nicolas can become Santa’s Helpers, and he sends them all throughout the mortal world to act in his stead.

Leshys patrol the space, so no souls leave without permission. Elves assist in toymaking. The Yeti assist in overseeing all functions within Nav, and act as managers, while also covering all other duties that the others fail at.

Every December 24th, he delivers gifts to good children and leaves coal for naughty children. He has also been known to still deliver to adults.

Using his Globe of Belief, Nicolas makes sure that the children of the world believe in the Guardians. Whenever crises arrive, Nicolas is there, blades at the ready, spear strapped to his back, and is ready to kick a w ho-ho-ho le lot of ass.

[littleziisa]

hello!!! i've been meaning to ask, is the rat in your pfp your rat? if so do you have more pictures? 🥺

Yes, and yes 🥰 the one in the picture is Master Kringles who moved to cheeselands this summer ❤️ Then there's Nobbs the 1st (aka Nobos) and Mr. Snibbles. Nobos is the one with red eyes + curly hair, and Snibbles is the gray curly one.

Kringles was a goofy one, would instantly when you're within his reach lick you and give you kisses. Very round boy, and lazy.

Nobos used to be very squeaky and avoiding pets, but now at a ripe age of almost 2 years he's the snuggliest - and has the silkiest fur.

Snibbles is my little scrimbly golden boy, the bottom of rat hierarchy and a true acrobat whenever out of cage. It's always "wait... how did he get there?" with him.

Here you go! 💖 Truly a joy to answer this!

[geekyimagines]

Hello everyone!

Below is the list of what characters and fandoms I accept requests for. If you want another character or fandom, feel free to ask, but only the characters below are guaranteed.

Note: This list may change in the future! Requests for smut may be denied.

WHAT I WRITE FOR:

🌃 GOTHAM 🌃

Barbara Kean

Tabitha Galavan

Ecco

Kristen Kringle

Isabella

Oswald Cobblepot

Edward Nygma

Jerome Valeska

Jeremiah Valeska

Jervis Tetch

Sofia Falcone

Victor Zsasz

👻 SUPERNATURAL 👻

Meg Masters

Dean Winchester

Sam Winchester

Castiel

Rowena

Lucifer

Michael

Crowley

Gabriel

Abaddon

Lilith

Amara

Dagon

🧟‍♂️ WALKING DEAD 🧟‍♂️

Maggie Greene/Rhee

Rosita Espinosa

Daryl Dixon

Negan

Rick Grimes

Michonne

Carol Peletier

Beth Greene

Andrea

The Governor

Alpha

🪐 STAR TREK: THE NEXT GENERATION 🪐

Q

Deanna Troi

Will Riker

Data

Tasha Yar

Worf

Jean-Luc Picard

Lore

Beverly Crusher

🦇 BATMAN (no particular adaption) 🦇

Poison Ivy

Harley Quinn

Jervis Tetch

Jonathan Crane

Joker

Edward Nygma

Oswald Cobblepot

Selina Kyle

🧬 RESIDENT EVIL: VILLAGE 🧬

Lady Alcina Dimitrescu

Lady Donna Beneviento

🖤 BLACK BUTLER 🖤

Mey-Rin

Sebastian Michaelis

Claude Faustus

Grell Sutcliff

[threestarsbazaar]

Well honored guests, it seems our last speaker has long overstayed his welcome here at the bazaar. If you see Master Toymaker Kringle himself, please do not be fooled. Something has cursed the man and has transformed him into a monster hellbent on punishing those who aren’t too jolly.

If you see a 10ft tall fiend wearing the face of a kindly old man, run, pray, beg forgiveness. It might save you?

[johnjon530]

Washing socks

“He was crushed for our iniquities; the punishment that brought us peace was upon him, and by his wounds, we are healed.” ISAIAH 53:5

One Christmas, I was watching the movie Santa Claus Is Coming to Town with my grandchildren. One of the scenes has a young Kris Kringle talking with some kids at a washing station where they are washing their socks. Kris asks them what they are doing, and they answer that they are washing socks. “We are judged by how much work we get done and how clean our socks are,” they told him. I used to believe this is how life works: we are judged by how hard we work at being good and doing things in a perfect way. Today I know that’s wrong. This thinking is guaranteed to leave us exhausted and defeated. It’s so much better to surrender our lives to God and let him cleanse our hearts and minds. He doesn’t judge us; he heals us. No matter how hard we try, we simply cannot clean our socks and keep them clean on our own. But because he takes our feeble efforts and makes them right, we are judged worthy and perfect in his sight. We can spend our lives like those kids, working for what we will never achieve. Or we can surrender to God and walk away whiter than snow.

PRAYER Father, you are the master, the one who cleans our soiled hearts whiter than snow. Take my life and make it what it should be. I surrender all to you. In Jesus’ name, Amen.

[mcbastardsmausoleum]

VIOLENT NIGHT (2022) - Comes to Digital 1/20, Blu-ray & DVD 1/24

DAVID HARBOUR SLEIGHS IN THE ACTION-COMEDY SPECTACLE, NOW YOURS TO OWN JUST IN TIME FOR NEXT CHRISTMAS WITH EXCLUSIVE DELETED SCENES, BEHIND-THE-SCENES FEATURETTES AND MORE!

From the producers of Nobody and John Wick comes VIOLENT NIGHT, available to own with bonus features on Digital January 20, 2023 and on Blu-ray and DVD on January 24, 2023 from Universal Pictures Home Entertainment. “The greatest Christmas action movie of all time” (CINAPSE) comes home in a collector’s edition that includes over half an hour of never-before-seen bonus content including deleted and extended scenes, a feature commentary, and behind-the-scenes featurettes delivering more of the movie for your Christmas collection.

When a team of mercenaries breaks into a wealthy family compound taking everyone inside hostage, they are not prepared for a surprise combatant: Santa Claus. David Harbour (“Stranger Things”) stars as St. Nick in the “wildly entertaining” (SCREEN RANT) holiday romp, delivering some serious season’s beatings to save the family and the spirit of Christmas.

Directed by Tommy Wirkola (Hansel & Gretel: Witch Hunters, Dead Snow franchise), VIOLENT NIGHT also stars Emmy® winner John Leguizamo (John Wick), Edi Patterson (The Righteous Gemstones), Cam Gigandet (Without Remorse), Alex Hassell (Cowboy Bebop), Alexis Louder (The Tomorrow War) and Beverly D’Angelo (National Lampoon’s Vacation franchise).

With the purchase of VIOLENT NIGHT on disc or Digital, fans are eligible to earn points towards digital movies via the Universal All-Access Rewards program. Members can redeem their points for digital movies, swag and more! For registration and details please visit www.MyUniversalRewards.com.

EXCLUSIVE BONUS FEATURES ON BLU-RAYTM, DVD & DIGITAL:

  - Deleted and Extended Scenes

  - Family Arrives at the Mansion

  - Jason and Linda in Bedroom

  - Krampus Sees Trudy's Radio

  - Santa on the Roof

  - Walk to the Manger

  - Family Resolution

  - Bad Dad

- Cast Call Back

- Extended Scenes

- Quarrelin' Kringle - Cast and crew relay why David Harbour is the perfect brawler for this combative rendition of Santa.

- Santa's Helpers: The Making Of VIOLENT NIGHT - Tommy Wirkola and David Leitch have reunited for another madcap, violent fairytale with heart in VIOLENT NIGHT. This making-of will celebrate their spirited reunion as well as the other little helpers.

- Deck the Halls with Brawls - Go behind the action as we go blow for blow with the new villains of Christmas.

- Feature Commentary with Director Tommy Wirkola, Producer Guy Danella, Writer Pat Casey and Writer Josh Miller

Street Date: January 24, 2023

Selection Number: 1000819013 (US)

Layers: BD-50

Aspect Ratio: Widescreen 16:9 2.39:1

Rating: Rated R for strong bloody violence, language throughout and some sexual references

Subtitles: English, Latin American Spanish and French Canadian

Languages/Sound: English (DTS-HD Master Audio 7.1, Dolby Digital 2.0 for Bonus Content), Latin American Spanish (DTS-HD High-Resolution Audio 7.1) and French Canadian (DTS Digital Surround 5.1)

Run Time: 01:51:22

[thepastisalreadywritten]

Beijing and Moscow, gleefully, are on “Team Harry and Meghan,” and decidedly for self-serving and nefarious reasons.

Intentionally or not, the two sidelined British royals, while luxuriously decamping in southern California, are recklessly undermining the national security of the United Kingdom and, by extension, imperiling that of the United States and its allies.

In selling out “King and Country” in exchange for Hollywood-style celebrity on Netflix, apparently nothing about British national security is sacred to the two — not even the late Queen Elizabeth II’s greatest legacy: the 56-member Commonwealth of Nations.

Derisively referred to as “Empire 2.0” by Afua Hirsch, a British journalist born in Norway, during her commentary in the Duke and Duchess of Sussex’s Netflix series, “Harry & Meghan,” the Queen’s Commonwealth legacy in the documentary was held out to be an evil archetypical manifestation of racism and repression.

The unspoken inference is that the British royal family is its chief propagator. 

What rot. If only the Commonwealth Charter agreed. It doesn’t.

The governing charter itself establishes all member-states as equals and emphasizes that it “is a voluntary association of independent and sovereign states.”

Moreover, its founding precepts recognize its “special strength” lies within its “combination of our diversity and our shared inheritance in language, culture and the rule of law.”

In many respects, the saga of Prince Harry and Meghan mirrors Alfred Hitchcock’s classic whodunit comedy, “The Trouble with Harry.”

In the British filmmaker’s movie, the character of Harry Worp, played by Philip Truex, is found dead.

Three characters played by Edmund Gwenn (who played Kris Kringle in “The Miracle on 34th Street”), Shirley MacLaine and Mildred Natwick, are all convinced they accidentally murdered poor Harry.

The modern dystopian twist, however, is that Prince Harry wants the British and American publics to believe that the royal family, the Palace as an institution (or “The Firm” as it is known), and the British media have all conspired to destroy him and his family.

Both he and Meghan Markle offer only vague reasons as to why and how.

They all hinge around allegations of racism against her, yet none involves specific accusations naming members of the royal family.

In the Duke and Duchess of Sussex’s version of Hitchcock’s dark comedy, each of the three prime suspects they disingenuously contend is responsible for their royal fallout and demise should accept they are racist in every regard — proven or not — and admit fault without the benefit of facts, evidence, trial or a jury.

It would be comical if the real-world implications of Harry and Meghan’s tantrums were not as serious and far-reaching as they are in reality — especially in a world where the West and its notions and ideals of neoliberalism are under assault by Russian President Vladimir Putin in Ukraine and by Chinese President Xi Jinping, among others.

As is, the Commonwealth is under existential attack by Moscow and Beijing — and East, Central and Southern Africa are most at risk.

Both dictatorships offer worldviews fundamentally and diametrically opposed to the West.

China believes in totalitarian democracy wherein citizens are the “masters” of the country, but the Chinese Communist Party is the master of the people.

Putin espouses an autocratic multipolar world forged by military invasions and sham referenda.

One prong of attack, especially by China, has been to buy up the Commonwealth — a high-stakes hostile takeover, if you will.

Since 2005, Xi has pumped £685 billion of Chinese investment into Commonwealth nations.

Beijing’s largesse, however, comes at a steep cost.

Xi has coerced numerous Commonwealth states into supporting Beijing over London when it comes to critical votes on resolutions at the United Nations. 

Ten Commonwealth members sided with Beijing over London in 2020, during a human rights committee vote on China’s Hong Kong National Security Law.

Putin also has benefited from his strategy of heavily involving the Wagner Group in Africa as a mercenary force for hire.

Early on in March, 51 percent of African countries — barely a majority — voted to condemn Putin’s “special military operation” in Ukraine.

Five Commonwealth members abstained, including Mozambique, Namibia, Rwanda, South Africa, and Tanzania.

If Harry and Meghan failed to understand this growing threat to the Commonwealth at the outbreak of the war in Ukraine, then by October, neither had any excuse to be presently in denial about the extent of Beijing’s and Moscow’s growing influence on its member-nations.

In October, after Russia “annexed” Donetsk, Kherson, Luhansk, and Zaporizhzhia, alarmingly, 10 Commonwealth countries abstained.

Most egregiously, however, is Prince Harry’s evident failure to understand the largely symbolic yet very real role his father, King Charles III, plays as the head of the United Kingdom’s military forces, given that the threat to the Commonwealth is not merely political or economic, but an ever-growing military one as well.

In addition to Russia’s Wagner Group conducting mercenary operations throughout Africa, China is steadfastly militarily encircling much of the Commonwealth in Africa and in the Pacific.

Beijing is accomplishing this encirclement vis-à-vis its Belt and Road Initiative, such as building a deep-water port in Lamu, Kenya, and developing the Lamu Port South Sudan-Ethiopia Transport corridor.

China is also reportedly building a military base in Tanzania, expanding its military base and naval capacity in Djibouti in East Africa, and planning more military installations. 

Given Moscow’s and Beijing’s designs on the Commonwealth, and Africa in particular, Harry and Meghan’s ratings “Empire 2.0” publicity stunt for their Netflix documentary could not come at a worse time.

Yes, “Team Harry and Meghan” undoubtedly will argue — as some already have — the two could have served as much-needed ambassadors to Africa. But that’s revisionist theory.

It appears they were never keenly interested in the role.

Further, by Harry and Meghan amassing personal wealth in America — by some estimates, more than $150 million for the Netflix series alone — and doing so by attacking the Commonwealth as “Empire 2.0,” they are crassly jeopardizing a global economic alliance that accounts for nearly 10 percent of the United Kingdom’s total foreign trade.

Somewhere along the way, Harry and Meghan replaced “King and Country” with “Bling and Sundry.”

Poignantly, at Queen Elizabeth’s funeral, a hymn was played, entitled, “Who among us shall separate us?”

Moscow and Beijing are betting on that answer, in part, being Harry and Meghan, especially in terms of fomenting racial divide in Africa.

It undermines not only the United Kingdom but also the strength of its military and economic partnership with Washington — and as a result, U.S. national security.

In “The Trouble With Harry” (spoiler alert!), it turns out that Harry died of natural causes.

No one murdered him, just as no one in the royal family, the Palace, or media is to blame for Harry and Meghan’s self-inflicted wounds.

Ironically, one of the young supporting actors in Hitchcock’s comedy was Jerry Mathers, later of “Leave it to Beaver” fame.

In that vein, “Leave it to Harry” to have messed this up badly, no doubt with Meghan leading him every step of the way.

Please, really, “Spare” us and U.S. national security from any more of their tirades.