#red dead secret santa

[doumadono]

Warnings: DEAD DOVE DO NOT EAT! villain!Hawks, f!Reader, non-con, taken captive, elements of necrophilia, murder, blood, bondage, forced orgasm, unprotected and rough p in v, Hawks is an ass here, minors absolutely do not interact - a kitten dies if a minor reads this! Synopsis: Hawks has some "fun" with you after catching you spying for the Commission A/N: this story was written for @lewed and it's a contribution for the Secret Santa event hosted by a wonderful @ectologia

MY HERO ACADEMIA MASTERLIST

Pain. As you slowly opened your eyes, it was the first sensation that greeted you — burning, irresistible pain spreading throughout your body.

The surroundings were dark, and you found yourself uncertain of whether you were still alive or perhaps already dead. Attempting to move, you realized the cold sensation around your wrists indicated the presence of some form of handcuffs.

"Marlene!" You whimpered quietly. "Marlene!"

There was no response, only a lingering, eerie silence.

You tried to move, but you couldn't — your legs felt numb, and you were tethered to some metallic structure. Your entire body ached; every attempt to shift, every shallow breath, was accompanied by pain.

Suddenly, a metallic lock clicked open with a key, and a stream of light flooded the room for a moment before disappearing as a tall, dark silhouette stepped in, closing the door. A few seconds later, a dim light illuminated part of the room as two old lamps hanging on either side of the door flickered to life.

You caught sight of him, and your blood turned icy cold. 

Thick combat boots, dark pants paired with a fitted black t-shirt adorned with golden patterns, and a pair of massive red wings. 

You shook your head, still reluctant to believe your own eyes. "Where's my friend?" you inquired anxiously.

"She's alive," came the calm response from the man with red wings.

A glimmer of hope sparked in your eyes. "Can I see her?"

There was a measured pause before the answer, "If you cooperate."

Your dry, blink-filled gaze met his. His emaciated face betrayed no hint of the intentions behind those words.

Hawks observed as you settled into the discomfort, bound wrists and ankles causing a persistent ache. The worry emanated from you, a palpable scent of pungent sweat, akin to a cornered prey navigating the uncertain terrain.

Hawks fixed his gaze on you for an extended moment, a silent observer in the dimly illuminated room cast by the faint light of aged lamps near the sturdy metal door. 

Slowly, he withdrew to the room's shadows, disappearing momentarily. Amongst a collection of cartoon boxes, a triumphant grin crossed his face as he discovered his sought-after item – a hefty hammer. Returning to your vicinity, he playfully toyed with the ominous tool in his grasp.

"Please, let me go. I won't breathe a word to anyone," you pleaded, attempting to maintain a semblance of composure.

His grin widened, feathers rustling slightly. "Oh, I wish I could, little one. But we've stumbled upon a problem. You and your best friend have gotten a bit too close to the truth about me and my colleagues from the League. Weren't you warned about the dangers of working for the Commission?”

“Please, I swear I won't tell anyone…”

Takami approached you with a frown, his golden eyes bearing a weight of seriousness and intrusion. With a rough hand, he tightly pulled back your hair. "I've made it clear before – cooperation is the only ticket out of the mess you've landed yourself in.” He set the hammer down.

"Please," you implored, devoid of weapons or the freedom of your limbs. Contemplating the distance, a fleeting thought of a potential headbutt crossed your mind. Standing could be an advantage. However, all these options dissipated as a tear traced down your cheek. His hand, not occupied with your hair, coiled around your neck, constricting your airflow. A soft sound escaped you, but as his grip weakened, you hastily gulped in air.

"Good girl. Breathe while you still can," he remarked, his hand tenderly patting back your hair, while your eyes held a bitter scorn.

"Please, take me to my friend. What have you done with her?" you pleaded.

"Oh, she's safe. For now," Hawks declared, rising to his full height. 

Your eyes scrutinized the young man, assessing every detail. There was a darkness in his aura, a stark contrast to the times when Hawks, the former Pro Hero Number Two, was known for helping people. Something had transpired between him and the Commission, and the Hawks people once adored had transformed into a ruthless villain, now one of the most perilous figures in Japan.

Hawks firmly gripped you under the armpits, drawing you in close. Thick ropes of chain encumbered your feet, challenging your balance. Your wrists and ass clung to the pole you were tethered to, seeking stability as the shackles jingled against the unforgiving metal pillar. 

His presence pressed down on you, and you cowered beneath its weight. A hand delicately traced your jaw, toying with your dry and rough lips under his thumb. “When I tell you what I want, you’ll do exactly as I say. You wouldn't want to witness the way darkness emanates from me when I command it, girl. Mind your tone and follow my instructions. Once I'm content with you, I'll allow you to see your friend," the former hero warned.

Your whimper lingered as his thumb persisted, applying pressure to the edge of your lip. It delved in, moistening against your tongue as it pressed against the intrusion.

“Suck,” he commanded. 

You vehemently shook your head in defiance, resisting against him. The notion of biting his thumb crossed your mind, perhaps even snapping it off. You strained to lean your head back, attempting to evade his grasp.

“Don’t try anything. If you do, I hurt her,” Hawks warned with an amused grin glued to his lips.

Your eyelids descended, halting an approaching flood of tears. Sealing your mouth around his digit, you sucked as per his request. His thumb pressed in deeper, and you complied.

"Good girl, yes. That'll do quite well. Now, back on your knees," he directed.

You obeyed, using your bound hands to steady yourself as you half-fell.

Hawks nonchalantly undid his belt, followed by his button and zipper. Darkened briefs emerged where the trousers opened in a V, and his hand slid beneath the band. “Now, open your pretty mouth for me, babybird.”

You followed his command, extending your tongue forward, a queasy sensation building within you.

"Excellent," he remarked, his hand delving beneath the thin fabric of his briefs, gradually revealing his long, veiny dick, slightly curved upward.

"Please, don't… What more do you want? We can erase all the intel we gathered!” you begged pathetically.

"Shut up, whore," he commanded, stroking his growing member. "I don't want anything but this from you. It might be the only thing you're good for, I think. Lick," he instructed, rubbing the reddened, swollen tip of his dick against your tongue. "Wet your tongue again for me, babybird."

You swallowed and opened your mouth wide once more. 

He positioned himself against you, and your lips instinctively sucked. A salty bitterness lingered on your palate as your curious tongue explored the head of his cock.

Hawks hissed as the tip of your tongue flicked the sensitive part of his frenulum underneath. "That's right," he affirmed, pushing in deeper, causing your cheeks to bulge. Takami ran his slim fingers through your hair, keeping you steady on his cock. Pulling out just enough to watch saliva stretch from your lips to his shaft, he thrust back in, repeating the motion until you emitted a desperate noise, gagging yourself on his dick.

"Good girl. That's enough of that for now. You just saved your girlfriend from a beating. She'll appreciate that when she wakes up from her last one." Takami grinned as he rubbed the tip of his erection across your swollen lips, wiping away a fallen tear from your cheek before moving behind you. He worked at the shackles around your wrists.

You felt them loosen and drop, but his hand replaced them, gripping you firmly. He pulled you against the pole, the cold metal burning your neck. As he lifted the white shirt from your torso, you pleaded with the faceless hands to stop. The room vanished momentarily as the shirt passed over your head, landing on the floor beside you. Then, your hands were locked together once more, this time in front of you.

You shivered as the cold air filling the room grazed your exposed, bruised skin.

The restraints around your ankles were skillfully loosened with a series of subtle clicks. Your uniform pants were swiftly discarded, followed by your cotton panties, leaving you bare except for the metal-clad bindings around your wrists as you resumed your kneeling position.

A palpable shift in the room's atmosphere ensued.

Hawks, charged with desire, was visibly electrified. His engorged and reddened member pushed back into your mouth, eliciting a moan from him. "You look stunning with your mouth full of my cock," he murmured, reaching down to play with a nipple between his fingers. "And you're damn good at it." His fingers tenderly smoothed your tousled hair as he guided himself deeper into your throat. "Do you ever do this for your boyfriend, if you have one? No? But I bet you fantasize about it. Yes?" He chuckled, reveling in his revelation after your tongue flexed under the weight of his dick. "I knew it! Your boyfriend is a good boy, huh? Just the missionary routine, not letting you explore, even though deep down, you crave it. It's okay, you can imagine I'm him. I'm sure you already are, judging by how wet you're getting. Just picture me as him, but on a wild ride, eager to try something new.”

Slimy fluids trickled from your pussy, tracing a path down your thigh, the disloyal testament of desire slicking your inner folds.

His fingers continued their dance, skillfully teasing your erect nipples, each touch met with an eager response. A sharp squeeze on the left elicited a cry from you, and as he knelt before you, he drew the aching nub into his mouth. "What makes you climax, babybird? Tell me. I want it to be as pleasurable for you as possible!"

A whimper escaped your lips as his calloused finger glided through your folds, everything feeling unsettlingly taboo. A part of you yearned to resist, to break free and escape. Yet, a more primal instinct responded to his calculated touches, a primal need for closeness with a male that seemed to overpower your rational mind, corrupting it.

A creeping finger eased into your pussy. "You're so wet and tight, just look at that. Didn't want to give me a blowjob, but it's obvious it got you excited," he remarked. A second finger joined the first, curving against the walls of your vagina. The pressure felt both pleasurable and unsettling.

"Do you enjoy that, babybird?" he inquired.

You squirmed away, finding yourself seated on the floor.

He pressed your arms over your head, taking in the sight of your breasts. The supple flesh swayed like ripples on water. With one hand gripping his throbbing length and the other on your hips, he guided the two to meet. "You're making the right choice, obeying me, Y/N. I'll bring you to your friend soon. Just one more thing I need you to do for me." The head of his penis entered you gradually, a delectable stretch spreading through you.

The mingling sensations of pleasure and pain raced through you like wildfire. The boundary between anger and passion blurred, akin to smoke and cloud intertwining. "N-no," you cried, attempting to push him away by pressing your feet against his thighs.

He huffed as he thrust fully inside you, easily bottoming out. His wings fluttered as arousal overcame him. "Fuck, you're so tight, holy shit. Almost feels like you're a virgin."

An involuntary moan escaped your lips, and you cursed yourself for that.

"I just need you to do one more thing for me, babybird. I want you to cum for me. I know you can do it, little bitch."

Your eyes squeezed shut, tears threatening to spill. His heated and girthy member glided in and out of your drenched pussy. The unforgiving concrete pressed against your back, each forceful thrust leaving bruises as he relentlessly drove you into the ground.

Hawks restrained your arms by holding your wrists above your head, his dominant hand skillfully working your clit. “Fuck, fuck, yes, little dove, I love how your pussy is clenching around me. You're such a good babybird.”

You futilely cursed at him, weakened by the onslaught of physical pleasure. His erection completely filled your pussy, allowing him to penetrate deeply from this angle. Despite the way he mercilessly circled your clit with his thumb, you resisted the urge to wrap your bloodied feet around him and ride his dick back. The struggle not to climax intensified as he sensed your unraveling, cruel laughter escaping him.

"Will your boyfriend ever fuck you like this? No, he'd probably be too gentle," Takami panted between words, thrusting into you with an unrelenting pace. "A girl like you craves it rough, needs it like this. A girl as scarred and desperate as you wants to feel something. A good girl always wants to be damaged. If you want to see your friends and family again, you'll cum on my cock.”

Frustration escaped your lips in a scream. Your ass throbbed, and your core pulsated with proximity to climax. The images of your friend and boyfriend flashed in your mind, intensifying your inner turmoil. In the dimly lit room, through tear-filled eyes, Hawks' face remained elusive. Your juices squelched, trickling down your sensitive skin to your asshole.

"You're holding back. Cum, and I'll take you to your girlfriend. Cum for me." Takami kissed your breasts, fingers maintaining a tantalizing rhythm on your clit, a friction you secretly enjoyed.

Your hips surged upward uncontrollably, and you were cursing the duplicity of your own desires and pussy.

"I told you to cum for me." He struck your face, the impact strong enough to briefly black out your senses.

Impatient, Hawks groaned, his throbbing cock signaling an impending climax. He dispatched a few feathers from his wings, their sharp edges slicing your skin on the shoulders and calves in an attempt to rouse you.

A loud hiss escaped your lips as the sharp cuts decorated your skin, tears streaming down your cheeks. "N-no, I don't... want to! Please! Please, don't cum in! I'm begging you! Please!’ you tried to move away but he slapped your face again.

A warmth surged through you, an irreversible tide that swept away any chance of retreat. Suppressing your moans, you felt your core tighten around him, forcing him through a final series of thrusts before he climaxed within your rhythmically clenching pussy. Your orgasm, though unexpected and unwelcome, was all-encompassing. Legs shaking, abdomen twitching, you writhed beneath his touch, attempting to muffle the sounds of pleasure, aware that he observed the explosion of pleasure within you. The sneer of his release transformed into a cruel smile.

"I knew you wouldn't be entirely worthless to me," he remarked, tucking his member away once again.

"That's so sad."

"W-what's sad?" you asked, still catching your breath. "You promised I'd be able to see my friend. Where is she?"

Hawks, unbothered by your voice and a wet stain on his pants from your combined releases after he retracted his cock, sent one of his feathers to illuminate the room while switching the lights on. 

It was then that you saw her — your friend, lifeless, naked and hanging upside down on the opposite wall, her ankles bound to the ceiling, her torso gruesomely cut from throat to vagina.

The echoes of your own screams reverberated in your ears, but the voice seemed alien, almost primal — like that of a wild animal.

Hawks approached the suspended lifeless body and callously slapped the vagina of your deceased friend. "She wasn't as cooperative as you. Unfortunately, we had to eliminate her."

Tears streamed down your face as you choked on your own sobs, struggling against the metal restraints binding your wrists. "Why! Oh God! Oh God! Marlene!"

Hawks explained, "She didn't want to listen," just as the metal door swung open. “Such a waste. I wasn't aware that preserving one's virginity was still a concern in today's girls' world. But I must say she was fucking delicious. Not as much as you, of course.”

Entering the room was none other than Dabi, casually leaning against the wall, observing the macabre scene. "Came to check what's taking you so long, birdbrain.”

"I was reuniting our lovely Y/N with her friend. She was a good, obedient girl to me, so I decided to reward her."

Dabi furrowed his brow, rolling his eyes a little. "Memory cards, birdbrain," he reminded.

Hawks casually retraced his steps to your discarded clothes, rummaging through the pockets of your uniform pants. He retrieved two SD cards and handed them to Dabi.

The scarred villain ventured further into the room, reaching for a Nikon camera on one of the shelves. "Can't wait to get off to this little tape tonight," he chuckled, shooting you a cold glance.

A lump formed in your throat. They had recorded everything — every violation inflicted by Hawks, every involuntary response of your body. Dread enveloped you.

“Please…” you whispered.

Hawks gave Dabi a look, and the other villain nodded.

"Shush, shush, shush," Dabi cooed, crouching next to you, sizing your face with his hand, turning it more to inspect it. "Don't cry. This little tape will be sent to your dad in Kyoto, a small keepsake of you. He'll be able to see your last moments. How his precious, little daughter, working so proudly in the Hero Public Safety Commission was taking villain's cock like a cheap whore. I'm sure he'll be proud."

"What... Please, please!" Your voice rose in desperation. "Please! I won't tell anyone. I can spy for you, I can do whatever you want. Please!"

Dabi observed you with amusement. "Isn't she the sweetest?" He cast a sidelong glance at Hawks before leaning forward to lick the tears off your reddened cheeks.

You winced, trying to crawl away.

Dabi grinned and rose, exiting the room. "Just don't leave a mess here. I'm not keen on cleaning up after you, birdie."

As the metal door closed, you whined like a wounded animal. Instinctively, you knew you weren't going to make it out of this situation alive.

Hawks approached you, ruffling your hair. "You were a good girl. I want you to know that."

"Please," you tried once again. "Please, free me."

He smiled at you. "I'm freeing you."

A swooshing sound filled the air, and the next moment, you were suffocating with your own blood, unable to draw a breath. The blood quickly poured down your chest through the cut throat, and soon your head hung lifelessly to the side.

Hawks lingered for a moment, watching your lifeless body. He couldn't resist slipping his hands down and between your legs, rubbing your still warm and slick folds, pushing his finger in one last time. "Such a waste," he murmured, licking his fingers clean before getting up. He used the hammer he had earlier picked up to crush the phone he retrieved from the pocket of your uniform trousers. Following that, he doused your body, as well as your friend's, and the floor in gasoline before igniting it with his lighter.

Whistling happily under his breath, he left the room and ascended the metal stairs, leaving everything that had transpired behind, not bothering to turn around even once.

[nellasbookplanet]

Book recs: werewolves

Want your monsters a little hairier? Then this list is for you! Whether you prefer your werewolf books fantasy, horror, slice of life, or romance, this list has a something for everyone (especially if you want your werewolves queer!)

For more details on the books, continue under the readmore. Titles marked with * are my personal favorites. And as always, feel free to share your own recs in the notes!

If you want more book recs, check out my masterpost of rec lists!

Lobizona (Wolves of No World series) by Romina Garber

Young adult. As an undocumented immigrant, Manu has been told her existence is illegal. When her mother is arrested by ICE, Manu is left alone, and decides to seek out the only connection she has left: her dead father's criminal connections. Here she finds a secret underworld of Argentinian folklore, where a seventh daughter is a bruja and a seventh son is a lobizón - a werewolf. But as Manu understands more about who and what she is, she comes to realize her self is seen as forbidden in more ways than one, and that she will have to fight for her way to exist. Tackles heavy subjects in a more lighthearted magic school setting.

Empire of Wild by Cherie Dimaline

Horror. Nearly a year ago, Joan's husband Victor disappeared seemingly into thin air. That is, until Joan stumbles across a revival tent where the local Métis have gathered to listen to the charismatic preacher Eugene Wolff - a man with Victor's face. But when she faces him, he doesn't recognize her at all, claiming his mission is only to spread the word of Jesus. Only, that is far from all he's doing. Now Joan must find out the truth of what happened to her husband.

Lycanthropy and Other Chronic Illnesses by Kristen O'Neal*

Young adult. Priya had plans to go to Stanford, but is derailed when the fallout from lyme disease puts her back, making her question if she'll ever get back to normal. Luckily she has her discord support group with whom she can chat and vent about her illness. Even more - she has Brigid, online fandom friend and fellow chronic illness sufferer. But when Brigid disappears from the web without warning, Priya must drive to Pennsylvania to make sure her friend is okay - and finds that Brigid's condition is a bit hairier than she expected.

Santa Olivia (Santa Olivia duology) by Jacqueline Carey*

Is this werewolf fiction? Technically not. It's sci-fi more than fantasy or horror, with a plot reminiscent of superhero stories. It follows Loup Garron, a young girl growing up in Santa Olivia, an isolated town by the border between the US and Mexico, where the inhabitants aren't allowed to leave. Loup is the daughter of a "Wolf Man", a soldier enhanced with wolven traits which she have now inherited, allowing her to take a stand against the soldiers keeping her small home town oppressed. Also features a main f/f couple!

A Wolf Steps in Blood by Tamara Jerée*

Novella, lesbian soulmate romance. Red wolves went extinct in Alabama long ago - except for the ancestors of Yasmine's family, who were saved by witches putting a spell on them, allowing them to take human form to hide. Now, that spell is growing weaker, and Yasmine is struggling for control with her wolf. When a chance encounter with the exiled blood witch Kalta reveals the two to be not only fated mates but also the possible answer to the pack's struggles, Yasmine and Kalta both must work together to overcome the grief in their hearts and save their families.

Mongrels by Stephen Graham Jones

Horror. A coming-of-age story following a boy and his aunt Libby and uncle Darren, living on the road and staying outside the law. They're all outsiders, but Libby and Darren are mongrels, mixedbloods, werewolves waiting to see if their nephew is like them or not. The boy, meanwhile, must decide if the wandering life of his family is for him, or if he belongs somewhere else.

How to Be a Werewolf by Shawn Lenore*

Graphic novel, available as printed or webcomic. Malaya was bitten by a wolf as a child, and ever since she has lived an isolated life with her family, working in their coffee shop and fearing she will lose control of her wolf side. Having never met another werewolf, Malaya knows little of what she is - until she meets a stranger claiming to be like her, and that she's far from alone. But the more she gets involved with other werewolves, the more she also gets dragged into the dangerous conflicts between packs.

Artie and the Wolf Moon by Olivia Stephens

Middle grade graphic novel. One night, young Artie witnesses something incredible - her own mother turning into a wolf. She finds out she's from a lineage of werewolves, and to help her awaken her abilities her mother invites family friends who are like them. A new world opens up for Artie, but so do dark secrets: werewolves have a deadly enemy, and it's coming back for them.

Bored Gay Werewolf by Tony Santorella

Brian is a slacker, having dropped out from college, working as a waiter, and spending his nights drinking with his friends - except the nights when he turns into a werewolf, of course. But after having slipped and killed a jogger, Brian is noticed by fellow werewolf Tyler, who's working on a self-help startup for werewolves and offers to mentor Brian. At first Tyler's methods helps Brian get back on his feet, but the more he learns of Tyler's expansion plans, the more he realizes he might be bad news. A good read if you want a funny, goofy take down of toxic masculinity that doesn't take itself very seriously.

Such Sharp Teeth by Kim Harrison*

When her pregnant twin sister is left by her boyfriend, Rory decides to go back to her home town and stay with her for a time. But the town is also the home of old childhood trauma, and something wild is roaming the woods. When she gets attacked and mauled one night, Rory's successful life is changed forever. Lycanthropy used as a metaphor for female rage, trauma, and bad coping mechanisms.

What Big Teeth by Rose Szabo

Young adult horror. It's been years since Eleanor Zarrin last saw her family, having been sent away to boarding school when she was little. But after a bloody misstep, Eleanor must flee the school and return home to her family's manor. Here she's reminded of her family's darker side, and that she has never been able to run and hunt in the woods alongside them. But in a family of wolves Eleanor is something else - and even more dangerous.

Red Hood by Elana K. Arnold

Young adult horror. A take on the little red riding hood tale where the girl is both the victim of the wolf and the huntsman who slays it. After a particularly embarrassing incident, young Bisou flees into the woods, only to be faced with a predatory wolf. To her shock, their face-off ends with the wolf dead, not Bisou. Even more shocking: the dead wolf turns into a boy. Suddenly, Bisou finds herself a hunter and a protector, routing out the wolves who masquerade as boys. Visceral and bloody, but pretty feminism 101 in its portrayal.

Fear the Wolf by Stefanie Gilmour

Urban fantasy. Alex never wanted to be a werewolf, but when a latent gene was triggered by a traumatic event, causing her to shift, she had no choice but to accept her new reality. Now she stays under the radar, avoiding other werewolves as she tries to keep a job and keep her temper under control, fearing that she will be discovered or even hurt someone. The only person outside her family who knows her secret is Emma, a wizard and Alex's closest friend. But when Emma gets a new boyfriend and starts acting strangely at the same time as attacks and disappearances of supernatural citizens are on the rise, Alex might have no other choice but to get involved in the local werewolf community to fight back.

Kitty and the Midnight Hour by Carrie Vaughn

Urban fantasy. Kitty Norville is a midnight radio host and a werewolf, having been turned after a traumatic attack. Stuck in an abusive pack, Kitty needs an outlet, and decides to use her radio midnight hour to speak about the supernatural. Soon others like her are calling in, seeking advice, and Kitty's life is looking up - but in drawing attention to the supernatural, she has also put a target on her back, and someone wants to make her shut up, no matter what.

No Gods, No Monsters by Cadwell Turnbull

When Laina's brother gets shot and killed, a video recording the incident reveals something shocking: a giant wolf which, when shot, turns into a naked man. The video gets leaked, and little by little monsters start coming out into the open. But there’s a reason monsters have decided to step put of hiding, something otherworldly and far more dangerous than them. Follows a large cast of characters, among them members of a werewolf pack.

Bonus AKA I haven't read these yet but they seem really cool

Rules for Werewolves by Kirk Lynn

A story told entirely in dialogue, Rules For Werewolves follows a group of young outsiders, drifting from place to place and squatting in empty suburban houses as they try to build a life in a world that has no room for them,

Howl by Shaun David Hutchinson

Young adult. New kid in town, Virgil Knox, has been attacked by a monster. Only, no one believes it was actually a monster, insisting it must've been a bear. But Virgil knows it was really a monster, and now he fears that it will come back for him - or that he will become one himself.

The Devourers by Indra Das

In Kolkata, India, college professor Alok encounters a mysterious stranger who tells him a story of a race of people at once man and beast, and a wanderer in 17th century Mughal who is torn between two worlds.

Thor by Wayne Smith

Thor the German Shepherd is devoted to his suburban family, and when Uncle Ted comes to live with his family, that devotion is put to the test. For Ted is no longer human, and Thor can sense that there is something dark and dangerous hiding inside him, something which he must keep his family safe from.

Wild by Meghan O'Brien

Selene leads a lonely life, avoiding forming close relationships to keep herself and others safe as she turns into a remorseless wolf creature every full moon. Eve is a forensic pathologist who has sworn off romantic relationships after having had an ex cheat on her, focusing instead on catching murderers. But when a masked man attacks Eve and Selene comes to her rescue, the two become unavoidably intertwined as a monster even more dangerous than Selene stalks the streets.

Wolfsong by T.J. Klune

Ox Matheson's neighbors, the Bennett family, aren't ordinary people: they're shapeshifters, able to turn into wolves. Intrigued by their lifestyle, Ox becomes close to the youngest son, Joe. But when murder comes to town, Joe ends up leaving, and won't return until years later. Now adults, the feelings between them can't be denied any longer.

[yjcorefourenjoyer]

Me whenever people mention any of the more unknown shit actually. Why don’t we talk about the fact that they dealt with Darkseid??? Or that they casually fought a werewolf???? Or the country they invaded was literally “supervillain island” that they had previously defeated in the Olympics?????

I think it’s funny that it’s always “they invaded a country” and not “they gathered literally every child hero that would listen and took down an entire nation of supervillains” lol

“Oh yeah Anita retired cause her parents turned into babies” WHAT????????

YOU GET ME!

like yeah don’t get me wrong I will talk about dead Santa and space baseball for as long as you let me lol but their was more crazy things that happened in yj98 besides the main stuff we mention!!

For example:

Bedlam, Secret’s tea time with Darkseid, what happened on Halloween, OLD JUSTICE, Secret’s brother, The whole thing with red tornado and his family, the tsunami they uses as the first wave (pun not intended) of attack to takeover the supervillain island/country. JL turning into children while YJ turned into adults. And I should stop now lol

Point is I think if the yj98 community wants to talk about crazy yj stuff they need to talk about ALL the crazy yj stuff! It’ll be great :D

[nalyra-dreaming]

“Took him to that banquet, where the men there... well, took liberties.” Except they didn’t. That’s the gag. They tried. They offered their rings and their jewels and Marius entertains them all while giving Amadeo knowing looks. Armand describes these looks as “secretive” and “teasing” because he knew that none of the men were going to make it out of there alive. Marius is literally toying with them. “I couldn't help but smile. Kill them, I thought, slaughter them. I felt fetching and even beautiful.” (TVA)

He KNEW Marius would never make him do anything he didn’t wanna do. “Martino, kiss my child if he'll allow it, and mark you, be gentle when you do." (TVA)

One would think so called book experts would be the first to point out the misinformation being spread about the banquet scene, but they’re not. In fact, you’re actively contributing to it with nothing to back it up. So I have to ask, just why are you making it sound like something happened when it clearly didn’t? It’s okay to admit that not every change being made for the show aligns with what’s actually in the book.

*sighs*

(you're the nonny who got pissed at me for saying that Marius did not kill Santino decades after Amadeo's abduction, aren't you. When it's clearly a play on centuries...)

Let us let the text give the whole scene, okay? Or, more of the scene, than the one sentence you picked (since it's a rather long one).

The red-haired man leaned forward, deep into the flirt, and put the goblet right against my lip. "Little David, you'll grow up to be the King, remember? Oh, I would worship you now, tender-cheeked little man that you are, and beg for one psalm from your harp, just one, were it given with your own will." My Master whispered low, "Can you grant a man's dying request?" "I think he is dead!" said the gray-haired man with obnoxious loud- ness. "Look, Martino, I think I did kill him; his head's bleeding like a damned tomato. Look!" "Oh, shut up about him!" said Martino, the redhead, without taking his eyes off mine. "Do grant a dying man's request, little David," he went on. "We are all dying, and I for you, and that you die with me, just a little, Sir, in my arms? Let us make a little game of it. It will amuse you, Marius De Romanus. You'll see I ride him and stroke him with one artful rhythm, and you'll behold a sculpture of flesh that becomes a fountain, as what I pump into him comes forth from him in my hand." He cupped his hand as if he had my organ already in it. He kept his eyes on me. Then in a low whisper, he said, "I'm too soft to make my sculpture. Let me drink it from you. Have mercy on the parched." I snatched the goblet out of his wavering hand and drank down the wine. My body tightened. I thought the wine would come back up and spew. I made it go down. I looked at my Master. "This is ugly, I hate it."

"Oh, nonsense," he said, barely moving his lips. "There's beauty all around!" "Damned if he isn't dead," said the gray-haired man. He kicked the body of Francisco on the floor. "Martino, I'm out of here." "Stay, Sir," said Marius. "I would kiss you good night." He clapped his hand over the gray-haired man's wrist and lunged at his throat, but what did it look like to the red-haired one, who gave it only a bleary glance before he continued his worship? He filled my goblet again. A moan came from the gray-haired man, or was it from Marius? I was petrified. When he turned from his victim, I would see even more blood teeming in him, and I would have given all the world to see him white again, my marble god, my graven Father in our private bed. The red-haired man rose before me as he leant over the table and put his wet lips on mine. "I die for you, boy!" he said. "No, you die for nothing," said Marius. "Master, not him, please!" I cried. I fell back, nearly losing my balance on the bench. My Master's arm had come between us, and his hand covered the red-haired man's shoulder. "What's the secret, Sir?" I cried frantically, "the secret of Santa Sofia, the one we must believe?"

The red-haired man was utterly befuddled. He knew he was drunk. He knew things around him didn't make sense. But he thought it was because he was drunk. He looked at Marius's arm across his chest, and he even turned and looked at the fingers clutching his shoulder. Then he looked at Marius and so did I. Marius was human, utterly human. There was no trace of the impermeable and indestructible god left. His eyes and his face simmered in the blood. He was flushed as a man from running, and his lips were bloody, and when he licked them now, his tongue was ruby red. He smiled at Martino, the last of them, the only one left alive. Martino pulled his gaze away from Marius and looked at me. At once he softened and lost his alarm. He spoke with reverence. "In the midst of the siege, as the Turks stormed the church, some of the priests left the altar of Santa Sofia," he said. "They took with them the chalice and the Blessed Sacrament, our Lord's Body and Blood. They are hidden this very day in the secret chambers of Santa Sofia, and on the very moment that we take back the city, on the very moment when we take back the great church of Santa Sofia, when we drive the Turks out of our capital, those priests, those very priests will return. They'll come out of their hiding place and go up the steps of the altar, and they will resume the Mass at the very point where they were forced to stop." "Ah," I said, sighing and marveling at it. "Master," I said softly. "That's a good enough secret to save a man's life, isn't it?" "No," said Marius. "I know the story, and he made our Bianca a whore."

The red-haired man strained to follow our words, to fathom the depth of our exchange. "A whore? Bianca? A murderer ten times over, Sir, but not a whore. Nothing so simple as a whore." He studied Marius as though he thought this heated passionately florid man was beautiful, indeed. And well he was. "Ah, but you taught her the art of murder," said Marius almost tenderly, his fingers massaging the man's shoulder, while with his left arm he reached around Martino's back, until his left hand might lock on the man's shoulder with his right. He bent his forehead to touch Martino's temple. "Hmmm," Martino shook himself all over. "I've drunk too much. I never taught her any such thing." "Ah, but you did, you taught her, and to kill for such paltry sums." "Master, what is it to us?" "My son forgets himself," said Marius, still looking at Martino. "He forgets that I am bound to kill you on behalf of our sweet lady, whom you so finagled into your dark, sticky plots." "She rendered me a service," said Martino. "Let me have the boy!" "Beg pardon?" "You mean to kill me, so do it. But let me have the boy. A kiss, Sir, that's all I ask. A kiss, that is the world. I'm too drunk for anything else!" "Please, Master, I can't endure this," I said. "Then, how will you endure eternity, my child? Don't you know that's what I mean to give you? What power under God is there that can break me?" He threw a fierce angry glance at me, but it seemed more artifice than true emotion. "I've learnt my lessons," I said. "I only hate to see him die." "Ah, yes, then you have learnt. Martino, kiss my child if he'll allow it, and mark you, be gentle when you do." It was I who leant across the table now and planted my kiss on the man's cheek. He turned and caught my mouth with his, hungry, sour with wine, but enticingly, electrically hot. The tears sprang to my eyes. I opened my mouth to him and let his tongue come into me. And with my eyes shut, I felt it quiver, and his lips become tight, as if they had been turned to hard metal clamped to me and unable to close. My Master had him, had his throat, and the kiss was frozen, and I, weeping, put out my hand blindly to find the very place in his neck where my Master's evil teeth had driven in. I felt my Master's silky lips, I felt the hard teeth beneath them, I felt the tender neck. I opened my eyes and pulled myself away. My doomed Martino sighed and moaned and closed his lips, and sat back in my Master's grip with his eyes half-mast.

So, let's see.

I've highlighted a few instances. And yes, I DO see these as Martino here take liberties. Now, I'm not sure how it is with your reading comprehension, but it's very clear to me that an offered kiss on a cheek and one taken open mouthed are two different things.

And it's not even the first kiss either, as highlighted above.

Oh, and above that, the "bantering "how he would ride him until he makes Armand come".

And it makes Armand want to throw up.

That is what I mean with "liberties".

Now, you obviously can call this as you want.

I CALL IT TAKING LIBERTIES.

And Marius let it happen, actually more or less coaxed him into it as well!! Oh, yes, he always planned to kill Martino - for Bianca. Well. But do grant that dying man his last wish Amadeo, hmmm, how about it. /sarcasm off. What do you want me to say to that.

So, actually I DO think that it is in the book. At the very least hinted at. The "ankles of the boys" and all that, too. Want me to dig that out, too?

So, nonny:

Take your passive aggressive asks elsewhere in the future, please.

Because despite your claim I CAN back it up.

[urfavgirlieee]

TWELVE DAYS OF FICMAS

(Starts December 14th!)

MASTERLIST

Day 1: Gingerbread houses + Joel Miller and Ellie Williams (The Last of Us)

Day 2: Mistletoe + Harvey (Stardew Valley)

Day 3: Present shopping + Hugo Vega (Dream Daddy: A Dad Dating Simulator)

Day 4: Wrapping presents + Vanessa Shelly and Mike Schmidt (FNAF)

Day 5: Snowball fight + Vanessa Shelly (FNAF)

Day 6: Caroling + Shane (Stardew Valley)

Day 7: First snow + Joel Miller (The Last of Us)

Day 8: New Year's kiss + Harvey (Stardew Valley)

Day 9: Hot chocolate + Arthur Morgan (Red Dead Redemption 2)

Day 10: Secret Santa + Steve Harrington (Stranger Things)

Day 11: Ornaments + Mike and Abby Schmidt (FNAF)

Day 12: Christmas day + Harvey (Stardew Valley)

[lilydalexf]

hi! do you know of any fics where mulder or scully (i think this fits either of them well) ask the other "can i kiss you?" ? its my favourite fic "trope" but i think ive only found one xf fic that does it and i cant even remember it, please help!

Thank you for this ask! I have (many) older asks I maybe should've answered first, but it was very fun compiling this rec list of fics where one of Mulder and Scully asks the other "Can I kiss you?" Enjoy! Anamorphosis by Megan Reilly Assigned to find a horrifying serial murderer, Agent Scully discovers things about herself and her past that she never suspected. City of Light by Bonetree On the run through the American Southwest, Scully and Mulder flee the shadowy forces of Owen Curran and Padden's government agents, who threaten their freedom and their lives. On the way, they must also struggle with their own demons, which threaten to tear them apart. (Part of the Goshen universe) Eleventh Hour by Rachel Anton Some feeling defy the confines of time. Fumbling Towards Ecstasy by Jenna Tooms Scully comes to Mulder with a wound only he can heal. general conundrums by @intrepidment Nonsense fluff. Impulse by Suzanne Schramm Mulder and Scully investigate some strange doings in a little town where people seem to have no control over their actions. Let's Bee Together by @baronessblixen Set during IWTB: Scully comes home from the hospital to find a bored and restless Mulder has picked up an interesting new hobby: apiculture. Little Notes by aRcaDIaNFall$ Mulder and Scully are bored in a meeting and start passing notes... The Mad Physicist & The Lab Rat by littlemisfit5290 (@alittlemissfit) "Who said I was even going to the party?” “I said you are if you plan on knowing whether I dressed up as a sexy alien or that beast woman.” MSR, pre IWTB, Halloween fluff. The Most Wonderful Time of the Year by Baroness_Blixen (@baronessblixen) For the first time ever, the FBI is doing a secret Santa exchange. But what do you do when you're not paired with the only person you can imagine exchanging gifts with? You do everything in your power to rig the game. Nuptiae Sub Rosa by SisterSpooky1013 and XFMaweezy (@sisterspooky1013 and @xfmaweezy) A series of canon-compliant missing scenes showing that some dynamics of Mulder and Scully’s relationship may have changed much earlier than previously thought. radiant by kittenscully (@kittenscully) Under normal circumstances, her vulnerability would shock him. But things are different now, the shift tectonic and undeniable. He owes her the same trust that she’s showing him. Saying the Words by Karen Rasch Mulder and Scully finally confront their feelings for the first time. (Part of the Words series) Tender Intent by A.I. Irving When Scully returns to work after recovering from her illness, Mulder discovers that she isn't quite the changed woman she claims to be. Untitled by @baronessblixen “I’ll kick his ass if you want me to.” / “Why do you only kiss me when I’m sleeping?” Untitled by @broadcastnews1987 a “what if one breath never happened au.” Untitled by @msrafterdark scully puts the moves on mulder post-millennium. What Happens In Vegas (Sometimes Finds Its Way Into Official Documents) by tiredmoonlight (@myshipsintheharbor) When some interesting news about the marital status of two agents finds its way to back to the FBI, questions are raised, the main one being that the agents don't actually remember getting married. While You Were Sleeping by Skinfull Mulder falls for an intoxicating red head he spots in the park, then saves her life but not before she is injured and put into a coma, then he meets her sister! Den den dehhhhhh! Seraphim by chekcough (@chekcough) After Mulder returns from the dead, Scully tries to pick up the pieces. AU, with Mulder/Scully relationship pre-established after FTF. Implied character suicide.

[mirohtron]

im writing for @kaiwewi for this year's Secret Santa :) their prompt was:

Please write a story about a villain who is more of a mascot for their group of competent 'henchman' rather than an actual boss/leader.

—

Technically, the villain should've had the foresight to see this coming. They should've, probably, mentioned it to their leader, and if not them at least some lower-tier henchman. At least casually. Been like, hey, if I get kidnapped, you'll wanna save me, right? Could be hard to replace me.

Oh, man. 

This wasn't really happening, was it?

A rough, hard punch to the cheek sent their whole world spinning. A pink leather-clad hand yanked them up from the back of their hair to keep them from sinking. The villain considered screaming for help and quickly thought against it. They had to stay put. Had to.

"Got you now," said the crueler hero. What was her name again? Something pretty and harmless that didn't match her dreadful grin. The guy beside her was all red and gold muscle. The villain had seen him grace the covers of a couple magazines before; their mother had been subscribed to Vanity growing up.

Oh, if only their mother could see them right now. Getting kidnapped in a back alley in the dead of night. In civilian clothes too, at that. Embarrassing.

"Took you long enough," the villain replied, and the next punch knocked a tooth out. They spat it out in a bloody glob, staining the red hero's boots. On the black asphalt, their molar looked like a red fucking star. Or perhaps a bloody ship lost at sea. Their saliva was salty and their breath metallic.

Fuck. Fuck, they should've brought this up with their leader at least once.

Red circled Pink like a slinking cat, waiting to strike at her say-so.

"Hurt them," she ordered, and Red drove his knee into the villain's gut, driving all the air out of their lungs, and threw them to the asphalt. Their palms scraped against loose gravel. Their tooth was right beside their little finger. The villain's lungs spasmed and they could barely catch up to their pain.

Their henchmen never hit them. Sure, the villain was used as a mascot, was the assigned 'fall guy' if it all went to shit, but their henchmen never hit them. Why would they? There was no reason to damage your mask... unless they ratted you out to a bunch of heroes.

What a wonderful excuse that would be. Hitting them to build up pain tolerance so they wouldn't go around breaking in interrogations. The villain wasn't even sure what these heroes did to get people like them to break. They'd heard horror stories about electrocution. Hallucinogens. It made their stomach churn.

Pink dug the heel of her boot into the villain's sternum, watching them struggle to breathe. Beside her, Red silently watched the scene occur like a good toy.

"Look at them," she remarked. Her eyes were alight with a predatory glow. "Helpless without their minions."

"Like you without your bitch," the villain rasped.

Pink's expression turned terrible, and she brought her boot down on their face with fury.

The world went white.

—

There is no point in explaining how they got into this position. The only thing you need to know is this: despite the fear surrounding the villain’s name and their face, despite their grandeur, and even despite the terrifying speeches they spent hours poring over before releasing to the public, all the villain was, was a mascot to their henchmen and their shadowy leader. They were powerless, merely a result of perfect cues and perfect illusions. Behind the scenes, they were as replaceable as a magician’s cards.

—

The villain could not see for several hours.

It was possible that nobody was coming. A small part of their mind, harbouring a particularly loud voice, feared that their henchmen were already looking for replacements. Maybe they already had a list of candidates that they were crossing out.

In the most pathetic parts of the villain's mind they considered giving up every bit of information they knew, inclined to believe that somewhere out there, was a body double suited up and in the midst of memorising a script. Perhaps in exchange for information, they’d be offered a stable life. How delusional.

Someone had taken their sweater off, and some skin on their forearms was raw and red from when Red shoved them to the ground, tender in the chilly air of whatever room they were held in.

Rough hands forced their arms to wrap around the backrest of a metal chair. The villain took in a wheezing gasp and struggled as they heard the rustle of a thick cord being unwrapped.

"Ugh," came an apathetic voice, and a third hand wrapped around the back of their neck and forced their head down. They couldn't struggle like this; the metal dug into their flesh and they weren't strong enough to put up a fight.

The cord was fastened, and the blindfold over their eyes was yanked out.

Neon lights as bright as the sun blinded them, and they caught the glint of water just below their vision.

“Now,” commanded a voice, and a red hand caught their hair, and before the villain could register a goddamn thing they were drowning.

The villain made the biggest mistake of their life: they breathed, and their brain went into instant shock as water burned their airways. They opened their mouth to gasp and choked on liquid death, ears popping, their body's temperature dropping. The bowl's edges dug into their neck and jaw and they struggled and struggled, feet kicking the floor, hitting table legs and air and other useless things.

The hand on their neck kept them down, cold, unfeeling. Murderous. The villain's lungs burned; the water remained ice cold. Their heart jack-knifed in their chest, threatened to break out of their ribs. The water suffocated them mercilessly.

They were dying. They were dying and nobody was coming to help.

The world went as white as those neon lights.

—

Cold water ran down their chin, wetting their chest, making their hair stick to their face. The skin on their arms burned from the metal chair. The interrogation (torture?) room was all metal walls and neon lights.

The villain's lungs burned with each breath, but they took in air graciously. Had they blacked out?

A blurry face, pale and cruel, came into view, haloed by the lights. Behind Pink, the villain spotted cuffs hanging from a stained wall. Beside her feet were worn cords, dried blood on them.

The metal on this chair was rusted. They'd need a tetanus shot if they got cut from this, right?

Pink turned to Red, who stood behind them. "Dim the lights."

The hand on their hair left. Pink caught the villain's jaw, leaning down to look at them eye to eye.

The villain took in another noisy, unsteady breath. Their stomach still churned. Their chest felt as cold as their chair.

The lights dimmed until Pink's features were highlighted ghostly white, shadowed menacingly. Red's presence behind the villain felt radioactive.

Someone had to come. Someone had to. They were a good mascot, weren't they? But acrobats were as replaceable to circuses as playing cards were to a magician. They clenched their corded hands into tight, trembling fists.

Her grip threatened to bruise. "I knew there was something wrong with you," she said. "So brave playing the evil guy, treating the city like it's a stage, but without your employers, you're just another regular crook, aren't you?"

The villain’s chest seized at the accuracy with which she’d clocked them, but they forced themselves to give her the most cutting grin they could muster. "We're much more similar than you think, you and I."

Red pulled their head back and pressed something metallic to their neck—a blade. The villain let out a terrified sound, and Pink laughed. "Look at them," she said. "Shaking like a leaf at a blunt knife."

"I could do a lot of damage with it," said Red. He dragged the knife down, rusty just like everything else in this damn room, trailing grime down their skin in its wake. He aimed the point of it at the hollow of their throat, and the villain choked on a noise. "Could poke here with enough pressure, see what happens."

The villain desperately shook their head as much as they could. Pink seemed to delight in their reaction.

Oh, god. They scrambled for some lines stored in their head, from watching movies and reading scripts and writing speeches. "Come on," they tried, struggling to get their voice to adopt a careless lilt. The blunt point of the knife felt suffocating. Was it blocking their blood flow? "Can't we all come to an agreement here?"

They weren’t even expecting a proper response to that. But Pink’s entire attitude seemed to flip, and the look in her eyes went from sinister to eager with such swiftness that it made the villain shiver. "Oh, we could," She said, crouching down and looking up at them with sudden kindness. "Tell me," she said, "what your henchmen are up to." She traced her thumb over the villain's knee. "And I will personally assure your safe withdrawal from them, and you'll never see us or them ever again."

The villain looked down at her in silence, unnerved. A cold drop of water dripped down from their hair, down the bridge of their nose. They wouldn't snitch. They couldn't.

She traced the outline of their kneecap patiently. Behind her, Red stood in silence. His knife was gone. The villain could hear their heartbeat.

"You know," said the villain. "Oddly enough I don't believe that."

Pink lit their knee on fire, broke a fucking bone, did something horrible, because their kneecap lit up in absolute agony and they screamed, and Red was drowning them again.

—

Their chest was soaked, their jaw ached from all of the punches and backhanded slaps they'd received, and their scalp felt bruised from the harshness with which Pink and Red manhandled their head.

Nobody was coming. The lights were dim and the sun was probably rising outside, and a rising sun meant no shadows for their leader to travel with. They couldn't tell how long it'd been.

It'd been long enough for an alarmingly red bruise to start forming on their knee, though. Perhaps a couple hours. Their leader’s right-hand had once told them how long it took for bruises to form. They reckoned this one would turn a hideous purple in a couple of days and stay like that until next week. If they were alive until next week.

They coughed up water and phlegm. Pink nudged them with rough fingers to their temple. Red sharpened that blunt knife with a whetstone, the sound of it piercingly loud in their ears. It wasn't rusty. It bled, staining the water red, making it glint like the devil's eyes in the low light.

Pink held out her hand. "Bring it over."

Like a fucking dog, Red obeyed. Pink flicked the knife around like a magician did their cards. The villain flinched.

She laughed. God, that dreadful laugh. She pressed the cusp of her palm down on their forehead and a whimper eked out of the villain's throat, but they couldn't snitch. They couldn't. Yes, they were expendable. Yes, they knew their henchmen looked down on them to some degree. And yes, all that they were, was a mask for a coalition of bad guys to hide behind. 

But. But.

They didn't have anywhere else to go.

The knife pressed cold against their neck. Red walked over to see, curious like a child. The lights were so dim that the ceiling was pitch black.

The villain stared at Pink with wide eyes, unsure if this was a threat or the real deal. But then the knife began to slice, and the villain jerked and flinched in their restraints.

Oh, god, oh god oh god oh god. The villain strained their wrists against the cords once more, dug their toes into the fucking floor, wishing something would swallow them up.

"I'm sorry!" they said in their absolutely ruined, drowned voice. "I'll—I'll tell! I swear I'll fucking rat those guys out like it's no tomorrow."

"There it is," said Red in his detached voice.

"There it is," repeated a pleased Pink. She turned the knife up and pressed it to a vein that the villain knew was important because the leader's right hand had mentioned it once. The jugular, or something? They choked on a breath. "Let it all come out, honey."

Oh, god, were they really going to do this? The villain looked at the ceiling, praying for something to come and help them. Their legs and arms shook. Their knee ached. They looked at a shadowy, void-like patch tucked away in the upper corner of the ceiling as though it would save them.

The void stared back.

The villain choked again.

One eye, glowing gold like a ring stared at them. Then another. A pair of eyes staring back at them, familiar ones, gold, like...

Their leader’s face emerged from the shadows, a finger pressed to her lips. Burning relief flooded the villain's veins.

Pink stared at them intently, patiently still. Waiting for a response. Their leader slinked back into the shadows, snake-like in her smoothness, and the villain scrambled to put on a mask.

Like an actor on stage, they twisted their face up in pain, anger, hurt, grief. "They're such cruel people," the villain said, staring deeply into Pink's eyes. "Such terrible, cruel people."

Their leader approached.

Pink leaned in, handed the knife over to Red to pocket. "Poor thing," she remarked.

The villain nodded, leaning in with her. "Yes," they breathed. "Poor you."

They kicked her knees and heard a crunch. Pink screamed, stumbling back, and their leader shot out of the darkness, fist curled and glinting—brass knuckles?—and punched the back of her head. She went down like a rag doll.

"Holy shit—" Someone snapped their cords off, and the villain was quickly hauled up to their legs, that same blade pressing into their neck. They seized.

Red's fist shook as he clutched the villain's hair. The knife quivered.

Their leader froze.

"Get down." Red's voice was calm, but his chest rose in unsteady breaths behind the villain's back.

The other raised her hands up placatingly, slipping the bloody brass knuckles off. At her feet, Pink's body twitched, her hair stained, blood pooling around her head and spreading at an alarming rate. Her twitching seemed to make Red tick worse.

The villain's heart felt close to bursting. Their chest was still wet from that water bowl, and their knee threatened to give out on them. The room was growing darker. "Stop that," gritted out Red. "I'll give you your mascot if you leave us alone. I need—I need to fix her."

"You'll remember us. You'll remember them." Their leader carefully gestured to the villain. "I can't let that happen."

Red didn't want to hear that—the blade twitched against the villain's neck. They whimpered in fright. The shadows twitched closer. "You hit the back of her head."

"Yes, I know how to give someone amnesia."

"I can heal the wound, but the brain damage will remain. She won't remember anything, and, and—" Pink twitched again, some horrible noise escaping her throat. Red's glove squeaked with the effort it took to not simply drive the blade into the villain's neck. "I'll give you your goddamn mascot if you take back the shadows, just let me save her."

The leader looked at the villain, no doubt taking in their dripping wet hair, the slowly forming bruises on their cheeks, the steady way the tiny cut on their neck bled.

The shadows retreated. Red shoved them forward and dove to Pink, quickly removing his gloves and hovering a shaking hand over her wound. He whispered soft, soothing things to her and caressed her bloodstained hair as his hand took on a healing, golden glow.

The villain stumbled into their leader's arms, completely wetting the front of their shirt, but the leader didn't seem to mind. Her arms wrapped firmly around them, protective, and pressed them closer. The villain gladly melted into their embrace, taking in trembling gasps.

Their leader bowed her head to whisper into their ear, "You betrayed us."

The villain bodily flinched. They looked up at their leader, but her expression was blank, unreadable. "What?"

One hand left to fish something out of their pockets, the other arm remained to keep the villain pressed close like a cord. Their leader pulled out a gun and the villain froze, paling, but she merely struck the butt of it against Red's head. It was too harsh; his whole body moved with the hit, and he was thrown to the side. His fingers were still stained with Pink's blood. "You broke, didn't you? You must've told them bits and pieces of information, to keep the pain at bay."

"I—I didn't..." The villain didn't what? They knew they should be defending themselves. But their throat was merely closing up. "Madame," they restarted. "She put a knife to my neck."

Their leader cocked their head to the side, as though they were trying to spot a lie. The villain stepped back and looked down at their feet, pressing a finger to their bleeding neck.

Stationed outside of what turned out to be an old, run-down building was their leader's right-hand. They took one look at the villain's limp and clucked, giving them their arm to hold on to.

It was still a couple hours from sunrise. The villain glared at the ink-blue sky stretching out into the horizon and let the right-hand inspect all the bruises and cuts they could see.

Their leader left to pull out the sleek black car they'd be travelling in.

—

So their henchmen hadn't come because they cared. They'd just come to protect themselves. Technically, the villain couldn't blame them—they'd been desperate enough to consider spilling all the information they knew to save their own skin.

But still. But still. They'd been drowned.

The villain stared out at all the buildings and streets they passed and tried to get any depressing thoughts out. They'd get out of this. They'd clear their name. And their leader would trust them less, but at least they'd still have a home.

—

The ache in their knee grew worse with time. To their chagrin, the right-hand carried them into the lair like a bride, and the mascot (they didn't need to pretend anymore) stubbornly stared at their hurt knee, chest still squeezing, heart still pounding. 

The right-hand wanted to take them to the med bay; their leader told him to look after the mascot in her quarters. As the right-hand moved aside paperwork, bottles of ink, and stacks of files and folders from their leader's desk, she went fishing for a medkit in her ensuite.

Right-hand caught their chin, tilting their face up to the light. They brushed a thumb against the corner of the mascot's frowning lip. "They punched you?"

"My tooth's gone."

The right-hand perched them over the expensive wood, their hands steady and oddly comforting. Gone as soon as they were done. "And what happened to your knee?"

"I don't know. One of them squeezed it or something."

"I see." The right-hand brushed their fingers over the front of their damp shirt, frowned, and went to look for drier clothing.

Their leader came back and placed the medkit down on their desk with too much force. The mascot flinched. Their right-hand glanced at them from where they fished for new clothes.

Her expression said: explain. The mascot swallowed.

"I didn't tell them anything," they said.

Their leader tilted their head to the side, and it made the mascot's chest squeeze. She leaned into their space and the mascot clenched their fists. "I'm being very gentle because I know you don't like pain, and I know that that would've made you betray us back in that old warehouse. That red hero knew you were a mascot. What else did you tell them?"

"I didn't—I wouldn't—"

"You would."

The mascot shoved them. The right-hand glanced at the two, alarmed. "If you were as helpless as me, you would crack too!"

Their leader, to the mascot's frustration, showed no reaction to that shove. They went down on their feet despite their hurt knee, putting more distance between the pair. Their hands shook. Some papers flew off of the desk, and the mascot didn't care that they stepped on them.

"I know I would have." Their leader took on a faux-soothing voice. "That's why I'm asking you—what did you tell them?"

"Nothing!"

"You were ready to rat us out like no tomorrow. That's not nothing."

"What?" the right-hand asked from near the wardrobe. 

"Shut up!” yelled the mascot, feeling slightly hysterical. This wasn’t going well. This wasn’t going well at all. “I had a knife to my neck!" They pointed to their cut. They could feel their throat closing, their voice growing croaky. "I was drowning, and they were hitting me, and—" To their embarrassment, wetness was coming to their eyes. They felt terrible. Of course their leader wouldn't trust them; the mascot didn't trust her either. But they felt hurt regardless.

They thought they were worth saving. Weren't they?

"Oh." The leader sounded disappointed. "Don't do that."

"Do what?"

"Don't cry like that."

The mascot threw a bottle of ink at them. It shattered against their chest, staining it black.

Their right-hand was frozen. The mascot swayed on unstable feet, head pounding. Their leader looked at the mess on their chest in mild shock, eyes imperceptibly wider than before. That didn’t make the mascot feel better.

A tear, traitorously, escaped and ran down their cheek. The mascot covered their red face. They could hear their heartbeat. It drowned out every other noise there could be.

"I was afraid you wouldn't come," they confessed. A soft hiccup escaped their throat, and their body felt tight in their discomfort. "It's not like I shattered. I was afraid the moment they caught me. I was afraid I was going to be replaced up until the moment I saw you. But I didn't say a single thing, not until they cut me, because they were cruel—I didn't want to lose my fingers and teeth to people who would never come to save me."

For a very, very long moment, nobody said a goddamn thing. The mascot wished to disappear. Someone touched their shoulder and they swatted that hand off. "Don't touch me."

The moments ticked on. The mascot stared at the floor in a quiet, tired sort of anger. The kind that a toddler experiences after throwing a tantrum that gets them nothing but a tired body and a tear-soaked face.

They should’ve never been saved.

“I’m sorry,” came the leader’s quiet voice. The mascot glanced up and saw that she was not looking at them. “I have misjudged you. I shouldn’t have.”

It would be the mature decision to accept that apology, but the mascot didn’t want to do that. So they stared at their feet and said, bitterly, “When have you not?”

Their leader’s hand was stained with ink, as dark as their shadows, and they rubbed the pads of their fingers together. “You can retire to your quarters now. I’ll send my right hand to check on you soon.”

The mascot was thankful for that; they stepped out of the room and burst into tears immediately.

— 

The right-hand’s fingers rested on the mascot’s hip as they applied a salve to their hurt knee.

“I’m sorry,” came their quiet apology.

“What are you apologising for?”

They didn’t meet the mascot’s eye. The right-hand gazed at their thumb, which traced circles on the villain’s slowly numbing knee. “It wasn’t a unanimous decision to save you, I admit. There was a fight. But the leader and I wanted you back. We were all divided. But she insisted.”

The mascot laughed wryly. “‘Cause I’d leak information?”

“That’s not what was on the forefront of her mind.”

“Then what was?”

The right hand looked up at them, and they really did seem regretful. They cupped the mascot’s jaw. “I knew you were missing a tooth the moment I saw you. We found it, you know, in a back alley near your apartment. She flipped before we could even confirm it was yours.”

“You…confirmed it was mine?”

The right-hand turned a bizarre shade of pink. “When you first joined us, you gave up your medical records. And that includes your dental records, so…”

“...Oh.”

— 

Crickets chirped past their bedroom window. The mascot stared into the darkness of their room, sleep slow to catch up to them. The salve’s effects were wearing off, the pain coming back in growing aches. Faint rays of five a.m. sunlight trickled into their room through gaps in their curtains, glowing prussian blue.

When their eyelids began to grow heavy, the shadows in their room curled towards them, hesitant to touch, keen on encompassing.

“You came,” the mascot mumbled tiredly. The shadows came nearer. “Because you thought I was hurt?”

I was afraid for your safety, said the shadows. But I didn’t make that clear, and I let my paranoia get ahead of my better judgment. For that, I am sorry.

“But you still came,” they repeated, “To save me.”

As soft as morning mist, the shadows slithered around before their lips. I did, it agreed. Of course I did.

The mascot drifted off to sleep, safe and snug.

[a-small-batch-of-dragons]

Not a Bad Holiday Season

Hey! I hope you had a great holiday season! I was wondering if you could write something sweet about Virgil and Logan after the secret Santa episode. No pressure ofc, Thank you you’re the best <3 – lapassemirrior

Read on Ao3

Pairings: none

Warnings: none

Word Count: 1225

“No, but that doesn’t work within the context of the other clues…”

Virgil smiles as he ambles down the hallway, listening to the soft mutterings on the other side of Logan’s door. From the sounds of it, Logan’s hardly stopped to breathe since he figured out that the newspaper wasn’t just a newspaper. He hesitates for a moment, just a moment, before knocking on the door.

“Come in?”

“Hey,” he says as he steps through, “wanted to check if you—whoa.”

He thinks he can be forgiven for truly coming to a dead stop when he sees the fucking conspiracy board Logan’s got where his whiteboard usually is. The original newspaper is still on his desk, the eye in the hurricane of notebooks, pens, and paper strewn about, but he’s made copies of certain parts and pinned them to a corkboard. Fucking hell, he’s even got bits of red string connecting picture to picture—if he didn’t know any better, he’d ask if Logan were working with Roman or Remus on some film noir idea.

“Virgil?”

He snaps himself out of it. “Sorry, I, uh, I guess I’m glad you’re having fun?”

Logan’s face splits into an almost manic grin—shit, maybe he really has been spending too much time with Remus. “This is incredible, Virgil, I can’t properly express my gratitude until I’ve completed your puzzle. I have to ask: did you do all of this truly by yourself?”

Virgil scratches the back of his head. “Eh. I may have gotten Princey to help with some of it.”

Logan frowns. “Roman?”

“Well, yeah, he is Creativity too. And he’s—okay, I’m not gonna spoil it ‘cause it’s his idea, but he has this thing he’s doing right now that’s gonna be really, really cool when he gets around to showing it off, so—“

He trails off when he sees Logan still frowning at his desk. He takes a step closer, nudging him with an elbow.

“What’s up?”

“Nothing, nothing.”

“Uh-huh.”

“It really is nothing,” he says, “I suppose I’m surprised that Roman would be willing to…help you with such a thing.”

Virgil frowns. The irritation that Logan had expressed when he’d first looked at the newspaper, the almost resignation he’d had when he’d immediately moved on, it’s starting to show in his face right now.

“L,” he says, trying to get his attention, “why is it surprising?”

“Well,” Logan huffs, adjusting his tie, “you know.”

”I don’t. Can you tell me?”

“It’s Roman.”

“Yeah. Creativity. Making things. Doing stuff for us.”

“For you,” Logan corrects, still not meeting his gaze, “not necessarily for me.”

That’s funny. As Virgil remembers it, Roman had been hesitant to help him at all until he’d told him it was for Logan. Then he was practically climbing all over him to help out.

“But perhaps in the spirit of the holiday, then—“

“Logan.”

Logan stops. He takes off his glasses and pinches the bridge of his nose, taking a deep breath. Virgil lets him, waiting until he’s put his glasses back on and sat down. He leans against the edge of the desk and waits.

”That was unfair of me to say,” he mumbles, “wasn’t it?”

“Maybe a bit.”

“I…didn’t mean it to be spiteful.”

“You sure?”

“…maybe slightly.”

Virgil chuckles, rubbing his shoulder. “It’s okay. I know you and Princey have your moments.”

“But I have those with everyone,” Logan continues, staring off into space, “even—even with you. When I didn’t realize what your gift was at first, I…”

“Hey,” Virgil murmurs when Logan’s breath hitches just a bit too much for his liking, “you’re okay. It’s—look, the holidays are a stressful time for everyone, it’s not fair of me to hold it against you.”

“Thank you.”

“And, uh, I think any ARG that loudly screams hey, look at me, I’m a big fucking puzzle kinda fails at being an entertaining ARG—“ Logan snorts— “so I don’t blame you for taking a second to get it either.”

Logan hums, leaning against Virgil’s side. His glasses squish slightly into his ribs and he turns to fix it. “You’re right.”

“And hey, you really look like you’re enjoying it.” He gestures to the board. “You got your red string out and everything.”

“Well, I realized that I could take notes on my computer or in the notebook, but…” He can hear the moment the smile curls up his face. “I decided I might as well have fun with it.”

“That’s the whole point.”

“Thank you,” he says, softer now, turning to look up at him, “I really do like the present.”

Virgil chuckles. “I got that. Glad you’re having fun. What part are you at?”

“Part?”

“How much of it have you solved already?”

“I’ve just gotten to the QR code you managed to hide inside the picture—how did you do that, by the way? No, no—“ Logan holds up a hand as Virgil starts to explain— “don’t tell me just yet, I’ll make a list to ask you once I’ve finished everything.”

Virgil just grins and holds up his hands, stepping back as he watches Logan get up and start working on something again. He wanders over to the board after a moment, looking at all the pieces. Shit, he knew Logan would be good at this, but Janus would pop up if he said he’s a little disappointed that some of the puzzles didn’t take him longer.

Though, he notices with a grin, it doesn’t look like Logan’s cracked the big one yet. That’ll be something to look forward too.

“But enough about that,” Logan says, “did you come here for anything specific?”

“Huh? Oh, yeah. Pat and Princey are making a fucking feast for dinner and they’ve asked the rest of us to put together a movie marathon. If you, uh, if you’re willing to step away for a sec?”

“Certainly. Give me one moment…” Logan scribbles something else down on the piece of paper and pins it to the board—damnit, he got that one too, he really is good at this, maybe he should’ve made it harder— “there. Alright, what is everyone thinking? There are a few generic thrillers that have come out recently, Remus was talking about a disaster movie—“

“Wait, they made another one?”

Logan rolls his eyes as they head out to the hall. “It’s quite a profitable genre, despite the rampant suspension of disbelief that’s necessary for full immersion, so yes, I’m sure they did.”

“I don’t know about you, but I think not having to think too much sounds like a good thing.”

Logan chuckles. “Yes, well, you’ve been kind enough to give me quite the puzzle to keep me entertained for a while.”

“I really am glad you like it, L.”

“May I be honest?” Virgil nods and Logan glances around, leaning a bit closer. “Even if it had just been a newspaper, I still would have appreciated it as it came from you.”

Well. Shit. Now he’s blushing. And Logan’s looking at him like that and yep, they’re going to find the others right now.

All in all, not such a bad holiday season.

General Taglist: @frxgprince@potereregina@gattonero17@iamhereforthegayshit@thefingergunsgirl@awkwardandanxiousfander@creative-lampd-liberties@djpurple3@winterswrandomness@sanders-sides-uncorrect-quotes@iminyourfandom@bullet-tothefeels@full-of-roman-angst-trash  @ask-elsalvador @ramdomthingsfrommymind@demoniccheese83@pattonsandershugs @el-does-photography @princeanxious@firefinch-ember@fandomssaremysoul@im-an-anxious-wreck@crazy-multifandomfangirl @punk-academian-witch@enby-ralsei@unicornssunflowersandstuff@wildhorsewolf @thetruthaboutthesun @stubbornness-and-spite @princedarkandstormv  @your-local-fookin-deadmeme @angels-and-dreams@averykedavra @a-ghostlight-for-roman @treasurechestininterweb @cricketanne @queerly-fluid-fan @compactdiscdraws@cecil-but-gayer@i-am-overly-complicated@annytheseal@alias290@tranquil-space-ninja @arxticandy @mychemically-imbalanced-romance@whyiask@crows-ace @emilythezeldafan@frida0043 @ieatspinalcords @snowyfires@cyanide-violence@oonagh2@xxpanic-at-the-everywherexx@rabbitsartcorner @percy-07734@triflingassailantofmyemotions @virgil-sanders-the-gay-emo@cerulean-watermelon@puffed-up-bees@meltheromanstan@joyrose-fandomer@insanitori@mavenmush@justablah65@10paradox10@uhhh-hi-there-i-am-nervous@cutebisexualmess@bella-bugatti-frogetti-baguetti@ultrageekygirl

[iceunhie]

synopsis: Kaveh doesn’t really like Christmas shopping with you for one (1) reason: You have horrible taste in matching Christmas outfits. 

warnings: 1.1k words, slight mention of Cyno and Tighnari, small mention of Collei BC she's my daughter my baby fr, modern au!! bff kaveh has my heart honestly he'd be such a good friend yet u still have to tell him to take a breather on his issues like get this man some help pls judgy kaveh but he swears it's in good faith lol

mhie’s notes: participating in @2023gisecretsanta's secret santa event! this piece is for the wonderful @june-again <3 i hope you enjoy this fic and have a wonderful happy holidays !! took a little break from romantic writing since you said you preferred platonic heehee,,, i shuld really write for kaveh more he's so silly

“No.”

You sigh, before plastering your best sopping wet cat expression. “Please, Kaveh? My wonderful, amazing, incredibly talented, bestest friend—”

“First of all, gross–” you stick out your tongue at him. “And second, [Name], I already told you this a million times and I'm going to say it again. I will not be caught dead in that… that abomination.” 

“C’mon, pleasee? It's just to take pictures with, I swear!” you say as you shove the red, abnormally large Christmas jacket to your best friend’s face, trying to at least get him to relent for just a few minutes. You do not succeed, and this only furthers the mortification in his eyes. This has been something Kaveh had been dreading for a long time already. 

It'd been a pretty okay day, his design for a new architecture project was approved and he was looking forward to excitedly sharing the news with you over a nice meal after work, only to be faced with the hell that is Christmas shopping near the Grand Bazaar in downtown Sumeru with Cyno and Tighnari, who are currently browsing through the rows of nice ‘make-your-own-plushie’ kits to give to Collei as a gift.

After you lot met up after your respective work and caught up by a delicious meal in a fancy restaurant (his wallet is screaming bloody murder right now though), the first stop he was immediately dragged to was a clothing store by you, and normally he would gladly pick outfits with you without complaint, but you were a huge fan of picking these tacky (sorry, but it's true) Christmas jackets that came in pairs to match with him. Best friend privileges, you say, but that absolutely clashes with his style. Like, he loves you, really, you're his friend and partner in crime and probably the only person he trusts more than Al-haitham, that bastard, anyway, but that (the sweater) is nothing but a fashion disaster waiting to unfold.

So he crosses his arms, Kaveh giving you a withering stare. “In the first place, why this sweater of all things? And that color?!” 

“It looks good on you! See, it even matches with your eyes! It's modern.”

“It's horrendous, that's what.” 

“Hey! You criticizing my style choices now?”

“Uh, duh? Why else are we friends? Why else am I your best friend, huh?” 

“Still, it's the holidays, so indulge me just this once, please?” 

“Excuse you, just this once? Last year was that green jacket that was too itchy for me to even wear! And the Christmas tree design in it wasn't even halfway finished!” 

“Hey! The Christmas tree print on it was still cute though, don't lie. And you wore it anyway.” you say dismissively, and you press against the sleeves of the jacket.

“Well, yeah, but–” Kaveh stops himself, before giving you an exasperated expression. “Wait, no, that isn't the point here! The point is, we should just look for better options!”

“Aww, but this one has a reindeer and elf print on this….” you sigh, disappointed. Kaveh eyes you with skepticism before turning to the aforementioned sweater. 

Okay, maybe it wasn't so bad… the reindeer print and the elves helping out the Santa Claus on the jacket front was kinda endearing… wait, no, don’t be swayed! 

“In any case,” he snips, putting a hand on his face and eyeing you distrustfully, “We can talk about that—” he gives the jacket a horrendous look of distaste, “later. For now we should just meet up with Cyno and Tighnari.” 

Before Kaveh can exit the store, however, you pull him back. “Nuh uh! Those two are going to take forever getting presents and you know it.” and just when he thought he dodged a bullet, you immediately give him the jacket, send him over to the fitting rooms and even have the mind to say ‘take your time!’ and then leave him be.

So, inside the fitting room, Kaveh can only try to struggle to find the utter appeal of the very, very questionably designed Christmas Jacket. There are two beings on his shoulder right now, the one with imaginary angel wings and of course, the one that's undoubtedly the devil.

‘Do it for [Name]! Please, this is exclusive best friend privilege and you're just going to throw it away? This is tradition!’ the nicer one says, endlessly using his moral compass as means for Kaveh to accept, and he almost does, really, but of course, with the angel comes the devil.

‘[Name] will understand if you don't wanna wear it! Besides, they've never had the best taste in fashion when it comes to Christmas jackets! Surely just one refusal won't hurt?’ 

“Okay, stop, stop!! I'm getting too into my head right now, I have to weigh the options….” Kaveh mentally chides himself and the little voices in his head, but ultimately comes up in a slump; on one hand, refusing you was fine, he knew that you would respect his decision, as you had always had. But… if he accepted just one night of humiliation, which will no doubt come in the form of Al-haitham and Cyno giving subtle and noticeable teasing when all of you gather around the local Lambad’s Tavern to celebrate Christmas Eve. Heck, even Collei would probably give him a look of pity! Kaveh hates it, really, but then again, it was just one night….

And you’d be disappointed! Also, what if instead of him who has to endure the matching Christmas jackets, what if you would match with someone else? No way, no way. Those were his best friend privileges and he was not forsaking them. Hmm, this was seriously a hard decision to make.

One day of humiliation versus the loss of potentially Kaveh’s and your Christmas tradition forever and likely the appearance of being a horrid friend– okay, he was overreacting here, but still! A horrid friend to you. Would he, in all his good conscience, really turn you down?

“Ooh, looking good there. I told you it wasn’t too bad!” you’re smiling and slightly smirking (no doubt you knew about his moral dilemma) at him when Kaveh comes out of the fitting room, donning the very oversized, very unfashionable jacket. “Oh my god, Al-haitham is never ever going to let you live this down.”

“Yeah, I can see that.” he grumbles, clearly swatting your phone away. “Can we just get it over with now? I swear I'm going to be so sweaty in this jacket. You’re lucky you have best friend perks.”

“Heh, don’t mention it! No one can resist my wonderful and amazing personality. Now, wear this too-!”

“Wait, hey! I never agreed to the Christmas hat-! Hey, [Name]!”

@ MHIIEEE 2023 : do not copy, repost or plagiarize my work.

[iceman-kazansky]

Two Halves of a Heartbeat, Beating as One

˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊·̩̩̥͙·̩̩̥͙＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊·̩̩̥͙·̩̩̥͙＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊·̩̩̥͙

Merry Christmas @currahee! I'm your secret Santa!

Request: a character who assumes they won't get a gift for Christmas, only to be pleasantly surprised.

Pairings: Ronald Speirs x f!reader

Warnings: Death, depression, probably swearing, kissing

A/n: Hey! I've never seen your account prior to this, so I'm glad to have you as my designated Secret Santa gift receiver!! I hope this is tailored to your liking, and I hope you like this! Merry Christmas and happy new year! :)

Taglist: @inglourious-imagines || (If you'd like to join my taglist; submit a form here!

˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊·̩̩̥͙·̩̩̥͙＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊·̩̩̥͙·̩̩̥͙＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊·̩̩̥

The days slowly melted past one by one, very scarce new events occurring. Every day was a repeat of the one before. Countless shelling from the artillery located just across the clearing. The never ending supply of dead soldiers soaring as morale stooped to an all time low.

Everyone was on the verge of their breaking point.

Through the harshness of Sobel in Toccoa, all the way to Holland, the 506th had been through so much death and destruction yet had remained steadfast throughout it all.

But now, in the company's arguably darkest time, the regiment became ever-fragile. The exhausted soldiers couldn't handle any more of this.

False promises of the war ending before Christmas had become what kept the 506th going, but as the day ticked closer and closer that hope began to dwindle.

Everyone, no matter the transparency each individual experienced as the thought dawned on them, knew they weren't going home for the holiday. They never were.

Dragging yourself from those wretched thoughts, you exhale softly, your breath creating a thick fog that rises and dissipates nearly as fast as it first appeared in the cold afternoon air. Even now, where all you could focus on was the numbness of your fingers, the air held a certain briskness to it that made your throat and nostrils burn when you inhaled.

‘Now is not the time for such dark thoughts’ you think to yourself, shaking your head as if to knock some sense into yourself.

Those thoughts, the one that let reality set in a little too far, were killers. Even just a mere drop in a soldier's ability to keep strong mentally on the frontlines ultimately affected their physical well-being aswell. In a time as dire as war, a drop in strength translated directly to a meaningless death.

In the distance, you could hear the crunching of feet on snow growing increasingly closer.

“Sergeant,” The voice is firm, yet recognizable. You glance up at the mysterious figure who approaches, once again ripped from the storm of endless thoughts brewing within your very mind.

Ronald Speirs.

You instantly recognize Dog companies CO. An intimidating man surrounded by rumors he'd never bothered to confirm nor deny. Yet, a handsome man. His face is one of chiseled beauty, like a Greek god. Something you'd been sure to notice over your countless interactions. Since you'd known him, Speirs had treated you equally despite being the only female in the 506th. Something you admired.

Ever since your first weeks at Toccoa, you’d taken a special interest in Speirs, and naturally you’d gotten a lot closer.

Speirs isn't one to dawdle, so he gets right to the point, “Sergeant, do you mind if I ask you a personal question?”

“Go ahead,” you reply through chattering teeth, sore from clenching them closed so often.

"What are your plans for Christmas this year, if we go back to the states?"

Even in the cold, you can feel your cheeks flushing red. He wants to know what you're christmas plans are?

Not answering immediately, letting the words sink in as you formulate a response, “You don't seriously believe that?" You chuckle dryly at last, "I thought of all people you'd be the most sensible."

"No, I don't," he replies after a moment of silence, "but everyone at least has some plans this holiday. A hope. I wanted to know what yours was." You could've sworn you'd seen him shift his gaze away momentarily, but his face was shadowed by his bulky helmet, obscuring your vision of his beautiful face.

"That everyone wouldn't be me, then," you avert your attention momentarily to his lips, but shake your head in disgust at yourself, what were you looking at? He was your superior! "What about you, captain? Any plans yourself?"

"I was going to visit family if we went back. But, seeing as that isn't happening anytime soon, I thought I'd settle on a gift for someone here." He responds.

“Who would that lucky person be?” You ask, curious who the CO might be referring to. You think back to the town of Bastogne, the town a few klicks away, and all the people for him to choose from.

“I'm still not sure.” he shrugs, standing abruptly and moving away silently, leaving you puzzled and alone.

˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊·̩̩̥͙·̩̩̥͙＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊·̩̩̥͙·̩̩̥͙＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊·̩̩̥͙

Christmas day had arrived grimly, the promise of being home by this day long forgotten and farfetched.

The Germans on the other side of the clearing were fortunately nice enough to halt the bombing for the day, leaving the front lines oddly quiet for the first time in weeks.

Despite this, morale wasn't very high. Nobody in the 506th wanted to be in the frozen-hell they were right then.

Standing and unable to withstand the boredom of your foxhole any longer you left to relieve yourself momentarily.

Upon standing, your limbs ached, stiff and sore from the cramped position you'd stayed in for multiple hours, and your feet numb while you stumbled the first few steps. You remembered Doc Roe's countless warnings to the 506th about trench foot. Something you wanted to be certain you wouldn't catch. Perhaps you should invest more time in moving about.

It didn't take long to finish your business, and you figured you ought to head back to the safety of your foxhole soon. Afterall, you never knew when the next shelling would occur, the Germans were unpredictable. You wouldn't doubt they'd go beyond cruelty and bomb the 506th on a day like today. And that was something you absolutely didn't want to be out of your foxhole for. You'd seen the destruction left in their wake countless times.

Your feet crunching loudly in the fresh snow was all you could think of as you retraced your steps back to the front lines. Along the way you passed a few E company members, smiling a little at them and wishing them a short ‘Merry Christmas’ as you trudged past.

Ahead, your empty foxhole beckoned and as you drew near your excitement at the small warmth it provided grew rapidly. You prepare to jump in, but pause at the sight of a small cardboard box nestled at the bottom. The peanut-coloured box appeared as vibrant as blood in the dull white and gray surroundings.

Jumping into your hole, you're careful not to crush the delicate box while you move into a sitting position, pulling it into your lap.

Curiosity consumes you as you open it carefully, revealing a small silver object, a thin wool blanket and a pristine white letter.,

Taking the necklace out you raise it to your face for examination. The pendant was long, and had a natural shimmering silver allure to it. At one end, a small, smooth heart was suspended by the lengthy yet elegant chain. It was beautiful. You gasped as you moved it around in your palm, a large smile pulling at your lips.

Carefully, you fastened the necklace around your neck, looking down to admire it settled against your collarbone once more. Not wasting any more time, you moved onto the next object. An army-issued blanket. Something the company should've been guaranteed before it came to Bastogne, but was never supplied. You took it out, taking care not to lose the letter you had yet to open. How did your mystery sender manage to get their hands on this? However they did it must've been tough, they were in demand everywhere. The material was wool, and you could almost imagine the warmth it provided.

After a short examination of the blanket you were eager to move to the last object, a letter. Grabbing the object and letting your fingers run over the grainy surface momentarily before pulling open the seal to reveal the neatly-folded contents.

Unfolding the letter you're stunned at the lack of words, but regardless begin reading;

Dear Sergeant,

I hope you enjoy these gifts. Merry Christmas.

Signed, Ronald C. Speirs.

Speirs got you these? Hardly containing your smile, you close the letter once more, slipping it into your pocket and getting out of your foxhole, leaving the blanket and box behind.

It took every ounce of strength you had to not run as fast as you could to his assigned tent, instead maintaining a brisk walk. However, something you couldn’t contain was the dopey smile that tugged itself onto your face as you moved, your heart pounding in your chest and your face flushed a bright scarlet.

As you drew near, your pace quickened ever so slightly, your mind urging you to move faster than your legs would allow. You were itching at the prospect of seeing him. Finally reaching the sepia coloured tent, it’s walls faded and worn from the harsh uses it had endured throughout the war, you say “Permission to enter, sir?” from the other side of the tent wall.

His husky voice answers from within the tent, allowing you entry immediately after your request. Without further ado, you step in, blinking to readjust your eyes. In the shadowed room, you make eye contact with Speirs. “I wanted to thank you for the gifts, sir.” You say, not quite sure how to properly thank him.

“Please, just call me Ron,” he corrects, smiling softly at you. A sight so beautiful and rare you can't help but stare in awe. He stands when you enter, maneuvering out from behind his desk.

“Then call me Y/n,” you counter, mirroring his smile.

After a moments pause where nothing is said, you resume, “Ron, do you mind me asking why?” You say hesitantly, unfamiliar with the use of his true name, seeming like all formalities were tossed aside, “Why me?”

He looked at you with an odd unnamed emotion, yet so familiar. It seems like a millenia passes before he replies, “I have admired you since we've met, Y/n.” He pauses to allow the words to sink in, watching your expression closely, “Ever since I first laid eyes on you, I've always been set on you. You drive me crazy. When you step into a room, you're all I can look at. Everything else is irrelevant. When you talk, your voice echoes in my ears all day like a mothers lullaby.

“I've never wanted another woman so badly as i've wanted you before. I didn't care for the dames of Eindhoven like most men. I wanted you. And only you. I've come to the realization I love you, and I couldn't wait another day for you to carry on, not knowing.” he stops to drink in your features before he allows himself to continue, “It's alright if you don't feel the same. I know how terrible the timing is. I can't believe I allowed myself to become so vulnerable in a state of war.”

Without missing a beat you reply, “I feel the same.”

Truthfully, you can hardly believe your ears. It's like a dream come true. You'd loved Ron since he'd done that daring act with Dog Company and the batteries, and you swear you could've felt your own heart stop when he leaped out of that trench and ran, exposed, into the battery, guns blazing. You'd heard the rumors about him too, but they didn't scare you. In fact, they almost drew you in closer, with hopes of unravelling them yourself.

Without even noticing it, you and Ron had begun moving closer to each other, pulled by some other-worldly gravitational force. Drawn to each other like a moth to flame.

When he was within reach, he lifted up his hand, cupping your cheek while the gap grew smaller yet, your faces hovering inches from each other, “Can I kiss you?” he asks, eyes flitting down to your lips only to return once more to your eyes.

You couldn't speak, only administering a nod before he closed the gap.

His lips tasted of lucky strikes, something you wouldn't have thought to expect at first, and they pressed against yours passionately, releasing his inner tension. Your lips moved against his in a synchronized dance, two lovers moving against each other like twin moons in the sky, orbiting the same center. Like two halves of a heartbeat, beating as one.

Reluctantly, he pulled away breathless, resting his forehead against yours.

“I've never wanted more than to kiss you,” he sighs, “I love you.”

“I love you more, Ronnie,” You whisper back

[scarisd3ad]

‘Scarisd3ad’s Masterlist

Decided to make a new one because I don’t know if all the links in my old one work anymore. As you can see I got rid of a bunch of old fic (mainly Steve’s because a lot of the things 13 y/o me wrote for him were god awful) because A I reread them and cringed my ass off while doing so, so decided to scrub any evidence of it off the internet or B the link doesn’t work in the og masterlist and I’ve lost the fic. I also got rid of a couple fandoms I write for because I either don’t get requests for them or I’m not interested in being associated with the fandom anymore.

Request box

all requests are open as of February 8th, 2024.

Key fluff - ☁️ angst - 🌧️ finished fic - ☑️ ongoing fic - ✅

events

Halloween writing challenge - ‘22, ‘23, ‘24

Christmas writing challenge - ‘23

-

stranger things

Steve harrington

found you 🌧️☁️ (series discontinued)

red 🌧️☁️ (series discontinued)

Jump then fall 🌧️☁️ (series) ✅

fake dating ☁️🌧️ pt2

first day jitters 🌧️

sober🌧️☁️

begin again🌧️☁️

promptober day 4 - decorating your apartment☁️

promtober day 18 - going to the pumpkin patch☁️

promptober day 29 - handing out candy to trick or treaters ☁️

promptmas day 6 - secret Santa ☁️

In a world of boys, he’s a gentle man ☁️

Robin Buckley

you like me? ☁️

horror movie marathon ☁️

Billy Hargrove

no Fics available

Jonathan byers

no Fics available

Eddie Munson

no Fics available

mike wheeler

no Fics available

El hopper

no Fics available

Lucas Sinclair

promptober day 9 - getting lost in a corn maze ☁️

max Mayfield

no Fics available

Dustin Henderson

no Fics available

-

scream

Billy Loomis

Trouble ☁️ (series) ✅

Stu macher

promptober day 6 - movie night ☁️

promptober day 10 - "are you scared?" 🌧️

promptober day 31 - Halloween party ☁️

Trouble ☁️ (series) ✅

Sidney Prescott

no Fics available

Tatum riley

promptober day 5 - shopping for Halloween costumes☁️

Dewey riley

no Fics available

randy Meeks

no Fics available

-

miscellaneous

Jason dean (heathers)

no Fics available

Conrad fisher (tsitp)

no Fics available

min ho (xo kitty)

no Fics available

bill denbrough (IT)

no Fics available

Georgie cooper (young Sheldon)

no Fics available

Cooper Adam’s (trap)

No fics available

Paddy (speak no evil)

No fics available

-

the last of us (hbo and game)

Joel miller

superstar☁️🌧️(series) ✅

highway don't care 🌧️☁️

promptober day 16 -trick or treating with him and Sarah ☁️

promptmas day 3 - baby its cold outside ☁️

promptmas day 7 - decorating the tree. ☁️

promptmas day 10 - writing Christmas letters with Sarah ☁️

promptmas day 12 - Christmas day ☁️

Too sweet 🌧️

Ellie Williams

no Fics available

Tommy miller

no Fics available

-

The black phone

Vance hopper

grabbed🌧️

the grabbed🌧️(series) ☑️

wearing his vest (blurb)☁️

matching costumes☁️🌧️

braids☁️

Promptober day 8 - “I don’t dance”☁️

Promptober day 13 - “take them all”☁️

Promptober day 30 - Halloween sleepover☁️

Bruce Yamada

Promptober Day 12 - dancing in the rain☁️

Promptober day 24 - going to the carnival ☁️

Promptmas day 9 - snowball fight☁️

robin Arellano

Robin standing up for chubby!girlfriend!reader🌧️☁️

Finney Blake

Trick or treating ☁️

-

the walking dead

Daryl Dixon

to the end and back (series)🌧️☁️✅

promptober day 2 -"its cold" ☁️

promptober day 19 - "i dont do cotumes" (pre apocalypse! daryl)☁️

promptmas day 2 - first christmas after the world ends ☁️

Carl Grimes

Promptober day 7 - “do you think it’s Halloween yet?”☁️

Promptober day 22 - cuddles ☁️

Promptober day 25 - telling scary stories☁️

Promptmas day 8 - reminiscing on past Christmases☁️

Rick Grimes

no Fics available

Glenn Rhee

August - betty - cardigan (mini series)🌧️☁️✅

Promptober day one - drunk after a bonfire ☁️

Promptober day 11 - stealing their sweaters ☁️

Promptober day 17 - the power going out (pre apocalypse Glenn) ☁️

Promptober day 21 - injuries 🌧️☁️

Promptober day 23 - “do you miss Halloween?” ☁️

Maggie Greene/Rhee

No Fics available

-

Five Nights At Freddy

Promptober day 15 - Sneaking into the pizzaria🌧️

Promptober day 26 - comforting cc after mike scares him 🌧️

Micheal Afton/Schmitt

Promptober day 3 - trick or treating with cc, Elizabeth, and Mike ☁️

Promptober day 14 - Halloween party ☁️

Promptober day 27 - “I hate Halloween” 🌧️

Promptmas day 1 - baking cookies with him and Abby☁️

Promptmas day 11 - the night before Christmas ☁️

William Afton

Freddy fazbear (any variant)

No Fics available

Chica(any variant)

No Fics available

Foxy (any variant)

No Fics available

Bonnie (any variant)

No Fics available

Montgomery gator

Promptober day 28 - Sneaking out of the pizzaplex to trick or treat☁️

Roxanne wolf

No Fics available

sun/moon

No Fics available

-

Talk to me

Hayley

Promptober day 20 Having an encounter with the hand 🌧️

Mia

No Fics available

Jade

No Fics available

Daniel

No Fics available

-

Descendants

Mal

No Fics available

Evie

No fics available

Carlos de vil

No fics available

Jay

No fics available

Harry hook

No fics available

Uma

No fics available

Ben Florian

No fics available

Chad charming

No fics available

Hades

No fics available

[mushrubes]

Secret santa

Masterlist | Resident Evil masterlist |

Requested : no

Based on character ai { Leon Kennedy by @/moolvn}

Pairing : rookie!Leon Kennedy x reader

Pronouns : you/yours

Type :  fluff

Word count : 1.8k

Content: Swear words, mutual pinning, slightly ooc :)

Have a great day !! <3

——————————–-

Leon was decorating a Christmas tree in the lobby of the police station when he noticed you walk in. The partner who he has a secret crush on and has to buy a gift for during the RPD's Secret Santa event. He smiled and waved you over, handing you a few ornaments so you could decorate together. “Hey, uh, I was talking to the who is assigned to you for Secret Santa. They wanted me to ask what you want for Christmas.” He’s terrible at keeping secrets, so you’re bound to find out it’s him. "Oh! uh…let me think." you smiled softly as you put a few ornaments on. "I don't have anything in particular but I could tell you my interests?"

Leon blushed. He definitely shouldn’t have signed up for this event. "Go ahead, I don’t mind." He looked at you with puppy dog eyes, waiting for you to tell him more. "Well...I like music, video games…" you listed off, picking up a few more ornaments and helping to decorate. "What kind of music?" Leon leaned a little closer. His cheeks were turning red. "What type of games do you like?" He smirked, his puppy dog eyes full of hope, wondering whether or not you would talk about any that he has played before. "For music, pretty much anything - as long as it's not country." you laughed gently, seeing him agree.

"I completely agree." Leon nodded and felt relieved that he was on the same page about country music. "What about games?" He glanced over at the clock, wondering how much longer he could put off making the big reveal that he's your Santa. "As for games…I really like the story games. Some of my favourites are Red Dead and the last of Us." you responded, eyes sparkling at the thought of the games. "Those are my favourites, too!" Leon perked up. It’s like you two can read each other's minds. He smiled and continued helping you decorate the tree, trying to maintain a poker face while he felt every ounce of his feelings for you building up inside. "No way!" You laughed, face lighting up.

Leon couldn’t contain himself anymore. The blush spread on his cheeks. His heart was pounding so hard it sounded like thunder. He hoped you didn’t see just how much he was starting to fall in love with you. “Yeah, way! You have such good taste in games!” Leon tried, but he could not keep from glancing at you. "We should play together sometime," you suggested, cheeks lightly red as you looked at him. Leon couldn’t believe his ears. It was like all of his Christmas wishes came true at once. He was so excited. Was that an invitation for us to…actually play together? Leon wanted this so badly. It would be like some sort of romantic movie dreamdate. Just sitting on the couch playing games with the person of your dreams. He was already sweating just thinking about it. “I would love to play with you!”

"What about you? what do you hope to get for secret Santa? what do you like?" you asked, wanting to get to know him a bit better. “Hmmm.” Leon had never even thought about that question. He couldn’t care less about the gift he would receive. In fact, he was more excited about what gift he was giving to you. He couldn’t wait to see the look on your face when you realized it was from him… He didn’t mention any of that, of course. “Just something that I would be able to use for work. Maybe like, a new handgun or something?” You nodded, humming as you finished putting the lights on the tree. "That would be a good present." Leon chuckled to himself. He didn't really care about receiving a new gun at all. He just wanted to come across as manly and tough. That was all. He looked up when he heard you hum. That was quite pretty. I’m pretty sure I’m in love with them right now. "What are you humming?"

"oh, just a song by my favourite band, Sleep Token." you smiled at him, continuing to hum. Leon was stunned. It felt like you read his mind again. Sleep Token? He loved Sleep Token. He didn’t think there were many other people out there who listened to them “You like Sleep Token?” Is this person too perfect? You nodded, eyes widening slightly as you realised. "yeah. do you listen to them too?" Leon was shocked. How was this happening? What are the odds that the Secret Santa that would be giving you a gift is obsessed with some of your favourite bands? "They're my favourite band. What songs are your favourite? Mine are Jaws and Hypnosis, they're like one long song. I can't listen to one without the other."

"No way! Mine are Granite and the love you want!" You grinned, eyes lingering on him slightly too long before continuing to finish the lights on the tree. "We're pretty alike, huh?" Leon was in awe of how perfectly you seemed to align with all of his interests. "We have excellent taste in music, that's for sure." Leon couldn’t stop glancing at you, smiling from ear to ear. This felt like a dream. "I don't think I know anyone who loves Sleep Token as much as I do. It really is my favourite band, and I listen to them pretty much all the time."

"I was hoping to get tickets to their concert but they're all sold out." You sighed softly, chuckling gently. "that would be the best present ever." A lightbulb went off inside Leon’s head. Is this what I think it is?? “You wanted to see them in concert? But you couldn’t get tickets?” Leon thought about the tickets he got from a friend just a few days ago. Tickets to…Sleep Token. The greatest present he could give. You gasped softly as you noticed the time on the clock "I should go get ready for the party. I'll see you later?" you smiled softly at him.

Leon smiled. He couldn’t believe he got so lucky to end up as your partner this year. He couldn’t wait for the secret to be revealed so he could finally tell you how much he loves you. “Yeah, I'll see you later.” Leon leaned in, trying to keep it subtle, but he couldn’t resist a quick kiss on your cheek before watching you leave.

--------

Leon anxiously scanned the crowd trying to find you. He was holding an oddly shaped present covered in Christmas wrap and ribbon. As the room filled with more and more people, Leon began sweating from how anxious he was to find you. What if someone took your present before you got there? Or even worse, somebody else already gave you a gift, before he even got a chance to. "Leon!" You called, waving as you made your way over to him, a present in your hand. Leon’s eyes lit up when he saw it was you. His heart beat quickly. He was trying to hide a nervous sweat. “There you are! I’ve been looking for you!” Leon noticed you had already found a present. Oh no…did someone get to you first?

"Merry Christmas." you grinned, handing it to him "I'm your secret Santa." Leon’s eyes lit up. He cannot believe his ears. This is really happening? “I’m yours as well? No way! This is so crazy.” Leon cannot contain himself. The blush on his cheeks is spreading across his entire face. It’s just so crazy how much we have in common with each other. He takes the present and quickly unwraps it, wanting to see what you got for him. Leon’s eyes went wide. He couldn’t believe what he was seeing. Not only was it the exact handgun he would’ve asked for, but it had all of his favourite elements engraved on it, and the lyrics from his favourite Sleep Token song. This wasn’t just his favourite gun, this was his dream gun. “You actually got me…I…I cannot believe how much you paid attention to what I said.”

"I'm yours as well? Are you my secret Santa too?" you giggled softly, cupping his cheek. "I'm glad you like it." The blush on Leon’s cheeks continued to grow as you touched his cheek. He felt like he was in a dream. The person who he was completely in love with had a secret Santa gift for him that was even better than the one he was going to give them. He couldn’t believe how lucky he was to end up with such a beautiful person as you as his secret Santa partner. “Yeah, haha. I am yours as well. Here, let me give it to you.” He smiled at you nervously as he pulled the present he had in his other hand out of his coat. your eyebrows furrowed softly as you opened the wrapping paper and the envelope, eyes widening and a gasp escaping as you saw the tickets. "you didn't."

“But I did!” Leon couldn’t believe how much he’d fallen for this person. How much he was willing to spoil them. How much he valued them. If only they knew how much I really loved them, then we’d be a happy couple instead of just partners. The tickets were two, and they were front row for Sleep Token. Not just any tickets, but the ones most people would kill to get their hands on. "But they were sold out, how did you-" Your face was lit up, eyes welled out of excitement. Leon laughed. There was no way he was ever going to let you know how he’d gotten them, but he was having too much fun playing with you. “I worked my magic to get them.” He smirked.

He couldn’t wait to spend time with you at the concert. “Are you excited?” You laughed softly, nodding as your happy tears escaped, hugging him tightly. "Very. Thank you, le. they're the best present ever." Leon's heart pounded like a drum. This was it. they were in his arms. They were hugging. He could smell their perfume. He couldn't wait to spend the evening with them, watching their eyes shine as Sleep Token performed on stage. Leon smiled as he couldn't help but hug them back. "You're welcome. I wanted to make sure you could finally go see them in concert." "

Hey…" You paused for a second, cheeks tinting as you looked up at him. "Maybe…maybe we could make it a date?" You asked nervously, a cheeky grin on your face. Leon’s heart skipped multiple beats. A date? Do you mean a romantic date? He wasn’t quite sure he had heard you correctly, but he was now even more surer than ever how much he’d fallen for you. A date would be like living the dream. It would be like the best Christmas present he could ever get. It would be…perfect. He smiled, nodding his head and letting out a giddy laugh.

“I would love that.”

[deobienthusiast]

this christmas | jacob bae

• pairing: gender-neutral!reader x christmas shop worker!jacob bae, mentions of reader x kim sunwoo, and small mentions of chanhee

• word count: 6.4k words

• genre: fluff, slight angst

• rating: PG

• warnings: there’s a slight mention of wanting to be dead, hatred of christmas, i made sunwoo an asshole

• notes: my secret santa fic for the lovely @snowflakewhispers! i hope you enjoy it so! i really enjoyed writing this and sunwoo i desperately apologize for portraying you this way🥺

• tagging: @deoboyznet @zzoguri @hyungseos-cafe @userjuyo @hongyangi (if you’d like to be on a tag list, let me know)

To say Christmas was your least favorite holiday would be an understatement. The kids running around acting like gluttony-craved little animals, families fighting over toys, traveling. The part about Christmas that you hated the worst? Couple activities.

Seeing happy couples frolicking about in the ankle deep snow. Listening to Christmas carolers, looking at Christmas lights, getting each other cute little couple gifts. Absolutely not. You weren’t always this way. You used to love Christmas. In fact, you adored it! It was your favorite holiday. The opportunity to spend time with loved ones, eat delicious food and sweet treats, snow, gifts. Who wouldn’t love Christmas?

The holiday became even more special when you met your ex, Sunwoo. He was a ball of energy. He held this swagger and exuded confidence. Every person who ever came in contact with him would swoon over him. He just had that effect on people, and boy did he know it. Sunwoo would come off as cocky. He constantly expected people to melt to the ground when he was around. When he didn’t get his way, it was an absolute nightmare.

This behavior should’ve been your first red flag, but honestly, you were so enamored by him that you looked right past it. Your friends tried to warn you, but unfortunately they never got through to you. You should’ve listened. You definitely should’ve listened. Maybe then, the last Christmas you were together wouldn’t have hurt so much. Maybe, you could’ve prevented your heart from breaking as deep as it did. With school ending for Christmas break, you were taking it upon yourself to visit your somewhat-loving boyfriend who lived across the city. Trudging through the cold snow, up the steps to his apartment, you felt a warmth fill your heart at the fact that for the first time in a couple weeks you’d be spending your favorite holiday with your favorite person.

His door was cracked open, something you constantly got on him about as he didn’t live in the best neighborhood, so you let yourself in. Immediately, that warmth you felt was gone. Vanished into the cold, winter air like water when it hits high heat. Clothes were thrown all across the small apartment. Some of his, and some of someone else’s. Now, you’re probably thinking…did you confront him? Did you trash the place? Did you break down in front of him and beg for answers? Well the answer to all those questions, no. You did none of those things, rather you left the small little gift you got from his favorite gift shop on his side table in the living room, and left. You hoped that just leaving would make what you found out hurt a little less. That maybe sparing your heart any more pain would help you. It didn’t. Your Christmas break was miserable. Friends leaving messages in attempts to find out what happened with Sunwoo when he showed up to your mutual friend's annual Christmas party with a new girl on his arm. Seeing him post pictures of them going sledding, decorating his little apartment and his Christmas tree that looked very similar to a Charlie Brown Christmas tree made you sick. You vowed to protect yourself and your heart. Writing off Christmas was the best way to do it. You stopped celebrating. You stopped visiting family and friends, and you just stayed on campus to focus on school. You hated Christmas. Until this year.

Determined to bring back your Christmas spirit, your mother forced you to come home for Christmas. She claimed your one bad memory shouldn’t cloud your love for the holiday and wanted you to be home with loved ones to help you get back to that happy place. You did not want to be home, but when your mother makes up her mind on something there is no turning back.

Your old clunker of a car drove soundly on the salted roads. The snow this year had been even worse than previous years, prompting the city to work overtime in clearing roads for the holidays. You never really trusted their work anyway, so you still drove carefully and slowly so as to not die. Apparently the other people on the road behind you didn’t like that. As they passed you, thoughtfully giving you the finger in an obscene gesture of hatred, you fiddled with your radio. You did not want to listen to another Christmas song.

The car ride was almost unbearable. You couldn’t find a single station not playing Christmas music, so you weren’t in the most jolly mood when you arrived at your parents. Waiting outside in what had to have been the most ugly Christmas sweater you had ever seen in your entire life and a plate full of cookies, your mother smiled widely. She was so happy to finally have her only child home for the holidays, even if said child was Ebenezer Scrooge Jr.

“Sweetheart, welcome home!” Your mother exclaimed happily.

Giving her your best smile, you let her pull you into a hug. The bright green tinsel decorating her ugly sweater rustling against you.

“Hi mom.”

She pulled away, shoving the plate of heavily decorated sugar cookies into your hands. “Take those back to your roommate. I know how much Chanhee loves my sugar cookies.”

A genuine smile made its way to your face at the mention of your best friend. The only bright spot in your life. He was your savior after you broke up with Sunwoo, and another person who was convinced that you would find your Christmas spirit again.

“He’ll be over the moon, mom.” You told her as she pulled you into the house.

The heat hit you like a freight train, as both the fireplace and heater were running at full force. You were surprised your mother wasn’t dying of heat exhaustion with the three shaven sheep wool sweater she had on. You set the cookies down on the table, looking at all the Christmas decorations she had taken the time to precisely lay out. The garland adorning the fireplace was set with care, four stockings laid out. The fourth one was for Chanhee as he usually accompanied you when you traveled, but couldn’t this year. The Christmas tree looked like a holiday bomb. Decorated in green, red, and silvers, the tree looked good. You couldn’t deny that. You did notice, however, that the topper was missing.

“Mom,” You trailed off. “Where’s the angel?”

She chuckled. “Your father dropped it when he went to put it on. Her glass snowflake shattered, so we have to go to the little Christmas store downtown.”

You frowned. “Mom, everything is closed because of the weather.”

Shaking her head, she spoke. “This place is open every day no matter the weather when it’s the holidays. The family wants it to always be accessible for people during the holiday season.”

You went to nod as she spoke again. “You’re coming with me.”

Letting out a huff, you headed upstairs to drop off your suitcase. Opening your bedroom door, you shoved your suitcase off to the side. The room looked the same as it did when you graduated. Your mother hadn’t touched a thing. Pictures of you and your friends, family members, Sunwoo.

“Why haven’t I taken those down?” You asked yourself.

Walking over to the board, you stared at the pictures of you and Sunwoo, letting your fingers run across them before tearing them off the board. The sound of ripping paper as the picture was pulled through the tack made you smile only slightly, crumbling the pictures up in your hand to throw them away. You unpacked your suitcase, putting all your clothes in drawers as you thought about how you could get out of going to the Christmas shop downtown. Some of your ideas spanned from faking an illness, to making Chanhee fake an emergency. Each one was worse than the last, and you figured going just to get a tree topper wouldn’t be so bad. Accepting your fate, you sat in your room, scrolling through social media as you inevitably waited to be dragged to hell.

You were wrong. You were so so wrong. Your mother had you walking around this store for almost two hours, with the basket she had, being turned into a cart to fill with more than just a new Christmas tree topper. You were starting to get annoyed. Your mother had no plans of leaving any time soon, so you ventured off. You rounded a corner you hadn’t been down yet, running your hands over the ornaments that looked like colorful food items.

“I personally like the oversized ice cream cones. They are kind of unrealistic though. Who takes a bite out of their ice cream?” A soft voice said from behind you.

You whipped around, your eyes landing on a guy with quite the facial features. He was handsome, that’s for sure. His almond-shaped eyes bored into yours as he smiled, effectively taking your breath away.

“Do you work here?” You asked, and you mentally facepalmed yourself.

What a stupid question? As if the red and green outfit paired with a santa hat and elf ears didn’t give it away.

He chuckled. “No, I just like dressing up as one of Santa’s little helpers in my free time.”

You couldn’t help but smile at his joke.

“My family owns the business, so I work here to help them.” The boy said.

His tone was very soft, almost as if he was afraid to speak any louder. He had a calming presence about him that spread throughout the store. You have to admit, despite not even knowing his name, you did enjoy being around him. It was more interesting than just dragging along behind your mother, that’s for sure.

The boy gave you a small smile before holding his hand out. “I’m Jacob. Jacob Bae.”

You smiled, gently gripping his hand. The handshake was firm, yet soft. His skin was smooth with just the slightest bit of a tan. He had a natural warmth to him that spread throughout your body when his hand touched yours.

“Do you run the store by yourself?” You asked Jacob.

He nodded his head. “I have a brother, but he’s busy with his own things. My parents bought the store when we were both little, and then when I got old enough they decided to just let me run the store by myself.”

“This doesn’t get boring?”

Jacob chuckled again, and you couldn’t help but blush. His laugh gave way to the most breathtaking smile.

“I wouldn’t say boring. Slow, yes, but definitely not boring. There’s not a single thing about Christmas that is boring to me.” Jacob exclaimed with a smile.

You rolled your eyes slightly. “I could give you multiple reasons why Christmas is boring.”

The boy let out a little giggle, looking away at a small family picking out a pretty antique ornament.

“I get the feeling you aren’t a big fan of Christmas.” Jacob said softly.

This time it was your turn to let out a small chuckle.

“You have no idea.” You muffled out under your breath.

You heard a cart making its way around the corner of an aisle filled with toy soldiers and nutcrackers as you let out a sigh. Your mother’s head reared around the corner as she smiled.

“Look at all of this beautiful stuff I found. This store is amazing!” Your mother said rather loudly.

You covered your face as you watched Jacob round the counter to begin checking out your mother.

“Mom, you are being so loud.”

“Oh hush. I’m just enjoying your beautiful store.” She said, directing her attention towards Jacob.

Jacob gave her a wide smile. “I appreciate it! We love spreading Christmas cheer.”

Your mother began to unload the cart of Christmas decorations onto the conveyor belt as Jacob began to scan the items. Your mother made small talk with the boy, asking him about his parents, his brother, etc. You stared at your mother, realizing that she really visited this store more than she let on. The personal questions and conversation she was having with the boy you were meeting for the very first time made you frown. You have been missing so much due to your own heartbreak, you could’ve been meeting new people, making new friends.

“Jacob, do you have any plans for Christmas? I know your family is traveling to see your brother.” Your mom asked.

You lifted your head, clearing the negative thoughts that were starting to creep in. Jacob shook his head with a smile.

“Working.” He said softly.

“On Christmas?” You asked, surprising not only your mother but yourself considering you would rather work on Christmas than celebrate it.

Jacob nodded. “Someone’s gotta keep the store open. You’d be surprised at the amount of people who come in for last minute items on Christmas Eve and Christmas day. When every other store is closed, we’re their last resort.”

You frowned. You don’t know why, but you felt bad about the fact that Jacob would be working on Christmas instead of taking the day off. Your mother continued to chat with Jacob, letting him gently bag each item, taking the time to wrap the more delicate ones in pretty tissue paper decorated with candy canes. Your mother took the bags from him, handing them off to you as she pulled out your father’s credit card to pay the bill. Jacob had graciously given your mother a nice discount, noting that she is always his favorite customer making you wonder just how often your mother visits this store. She grabbed the final bags, heading for the door as you followed her before stopping.

“Hey, Jacob. Do you want some company here? You shouldn’t be alone on the holidays. Maybe I could come help you?” You asked softly.

He replied just as softly. “I’d love that.”

You gave him a smile, as you headed out the door to catch up with your mom.

Now that you had something to actually look forward to, the rest of the day dragged on. You didn’t think it would ever end, but when you got up this morning you were in an incredibly good mood. Your parents couldn’t help but point out how chipper you were this morning either.

“Someone has you really happy today,” Your mother started.

With a nod of your head, you grabbed a muffin for a quick breakfast. “I’ll be gone for most of the day. I should be home before dinner.”

Your parents could only nod, happy that you would be at least getting out of the house instead of spending the entire vacation locked in your room.

The car ride downtown to the small Christmas shop was short, but with how much you were anticipating seeing Jacob again, it made the ride seem all that much longer. When you pulled into the parking lot, you parked next to the only other car there.

The roads were almost completely empty, aside from people pulling sleds in the deep snow on the sidewalks. You turned your car off, getting out and locking the door behind you as you headed towards the entrance of the store.

You noticed Jacob laying out empty cups by a small hot chocolate station. He laid out candy canes, whipped cream, and marshmallows, setting them all up in a certain way. Smiling to yourself, you opened the door to the shop as you let the little overhead bell ring above you, alerting Jacob of your arrival.

He turned from his spot by the hot chocolate station as you waved.

“Hey! You made it!” Jacob said excitedly.

You giggled with a nod as Jacob reached an arm behind the counter. He pulled a green Santa hat with fancy, red decorations adorning it with him as he handed it to you.

“Since it’s your first day, I won’t make you wear the elf ears. However, I can’t say no to the hat. This is nonnegotiable.”

He hands the hat to you as you quietly put it on before striking a pose.

“How do I look?” You asked.

Jacob could only laugh. “Do I dare say it was made for you?”

You and him laughed as he led you around the store. He let you in on different products, the stuff that sells the best and the worst, the regular customers (no surprise your mom was on the list), and so much more.

“The store will be slow most of the time. I usually take that time to just sit in the back until the bell rings.” He said.

You looked at the door behind the counter as you spoke. “What’s in the back?”

Jacob grinned. “My little hideaway. You might like it; not as much Christmas back there.”

His comment made heat rise to your neck and cheeks as he continued to explain stuff to you. You tried your hardest to focus on what he was saying, but you would be lying if you claimed that you heard anything that came out of his mouth. Jacob was just too damn handsome for his own good. He wasn’t necessarily the tallest, but he definitely wasn’t short. He had broad shoulders that lead down to a slim waist and long legs. His face had a more squared off look than an angular one. His jawline was impeccable. He had full lips that were constantly hidden by the beautiful smile he was consistently flashing to everyone. You couldn’t lie, though. The best thing about Jacob, in your opinion, was his kindness. You hadn’t known him long, but his heart was so pure. He was nothing but kind to everyone he came in contact with, and you came up with all of this information in just one and a half days.

“So that’s pretty much all there is to it. A pretty easy gig, right?” Jacob asked.

You just stared at him for a moment before shaking your head slightly, snapping out of your thoughts.

“Huh? Oh yeah. Sure sounds like it.” You replied.

Jacob stared back at you, a sly smile making its way to his face. “Well, let’s get you settled on the register then.”

Jacob led you back through the store, which seemed a lot bigger inside than it looked on the outside. You let him lead you again as he pulled out a stool, motioning for you to sit. He showed you all the usual steps to do in order to check out a customer before officially opening the store.

The day went by rather slow. You and Jacob really got to know each other due to the slowness. He told you more about his family, more about his brother, who he looks up to a lot.

“He’s my best friend. We are inseparable when we’re together. We talk everyday when we’re apart.” Jacob told you with a smile.

The statement made you smile. Being an only child meant that you had to get creative when it came to finding people to talk to every day. You loved your parents, but you could only talk to them so much in a day.

“Do you have siblings?” Jacob asked.

You shook your head. “I have a best friend named Chanhee. He’s like my brother. We talk all the time, he’s my roommate, we have all the same classes. I adore that boy.”

Jacob nodded with a small smile, continuing to watch out the shop windows for a customer as you just continued to watch the gingerbread clock tick away ever so slowly.

As the day came to an end, you helped Jacob box up certain things. He packed up the hot chocolate station, making you a cup for the road before setting everything in the back room. Jacob helped you close out the register, and you helped him sweep up the fake snow that had fallen off the fake Christmas trees in front of the store. He grabbed a ring of keys before pulling that hat he had on for his head, revealing his dark brown hair that fell every which way after being confined in a hat all day long. You both walked to the door, letting Jacob set an alarm hidden behind a picture frame before he walked out with you behind him. He turned to lock the doors before walking you to your car.

“Aside from it being really slow, which I apologize for, how was your first day?” Jacob asked sweetly.

You smiled at him. “I had a lot of fun, Jacob. You kept me good company.”

Jacob smiled at your statement. “Hopefully I’ll see you back here again then.”

“Definitely.”

Jacob opened your car door for you, allowing you to get situated before closing the door gently. You watched him trudge through the slightly fresh snow on the ground to his own car. He got in, quickly turning it on before looking out his window to wave to you.

The week before Christmas went exactly like this. You would get up in a good mood, grab a muffin, drive to the Christmas Shop, and sit for six hours with Jacob. You had to admit; you were having a lot of fun. He was funny. Really funny. He didn’t try too hard. You remembered always forcing laughter when it comes to Sunwoo and his jokes. They were okay, but they weren’t knock-your-socks-off funny.

Something else about Jacob? He was an incredible singer. During a particularly slow part of your fourth day working at the Christmas shop, Jacob brought you to the back room. It was almost like a small in and out apartment. There was a pull out couch, a flat screen tv, and a coffee table neatly set up. There was a counter against the back wall that held a mini fridge, a microwave, air fryer, and a coffee maker. In the corner not occupied by anything, was a beautiful dark redwood acoustic guitar. He left the back door open to keep an eye on the front of the store as he strummed a beautiful tune, singing ever so softly to you. You couldn’t believe your ears.

“Why haven’t you taken on a singing career?” You asked him curiously.

Jacob smiled as he continued to softly play the guitar. “As much as I adore music, I never really felt like I was destined for that kind of life. I like what I’ve got going here.”

“Just working at a Christmas shop? This is what you like?” You asked, a tilt of your head to emphasize your questions.

Your question caught Jacob off guard. What you didn’t know was that no one in his family would ever hold him back, but he would hold himself back. He had his reasons for not wanting to pursue a music career despite everyone telling him to. He had never ever talked to anyone about said problems. You, however, seemed different. He wanted to tell you everything. Instead, he stuck with asking some hard hitting questions himself.

“Why do you hate Christmas so much?” Jacob asked.

Your head straightened at his question. You had never had someone straight out ask you about your dislike of Christmas.

“I don’t.”

Jacob raised an eyebrow as he stopped playing. “You don’t?”

You shook your head. “I don’t particularly like Christmas, but I don’t hate it. I know I say I do, but I don’t think I ever really could. Plus working here with you has made me regain some love for it.”

He grinned at your comment before lifting his index, wiggling it at you. “While I appreciate the compliment, you aren’t getting off that easily.”

A sigh escaped your lips as you took a deep breath. “I didn’t always hate Christmas. In fact, I used to love it. The decorations, the weather, the movies. All of it. Then I met my ex, and things changed.”

You looked at Jacob who had a solemn look in his dark brown eyes, silently begging for you to continue.

“He became my entire world. I would have done anything for him, but clearly he wouldn’t have done the same. It’s stupid really. All my friends told me he was bad news and I never listened. I believed him over them. I always took his side and two holidays ago, our first Christmas together, he cheated on me. Come to find out he had been for a really long time,” You stopped to take in a breath, feeling a tear roll down your cheek. “I was devastated. He ruined my Christmas, and I let that suck the joy for the holiday right out of me.”

Jacob handed you a tissue as you dabbed at your face. You shook your head.

“I’m so stupid.”

“No you’re not. There’s nothing stupid about being in love with someone. What’s stupid is said person being dumb enough to actually take advantage of you. You deserve better.” Jacob said quietly.

A small, shy smile made its way to your face.

He watched you before speaking again. “I’m sorry that that happened to you. You deserve so much better, truly. If it makes you feel any better, I adore spending this little bit of time that we spend together. You make the day more fun. I have someone to talk to, to share stories with. I don’t have to talk to the toy soldiers anymore. I felt like they might have started to talk back had you not asked to help out.”

You let out a loud laugh. “It does make me feel better. Actually, working here makes me feel like I’m getting my Christmas spirit back. I have had the absolute best time this vacation. Which is a first for me because I was really expecting to just shove my face with my moms sugar cookies and drown myself in hot chocolate while watching sad romance movies.”

This time Jacob laughed out loud.

“Your mom’s sugar cookies are amazing!” Jacob let out.

You both laughed at his statement as a comfortable silence fell over the both of you. The day went by pretty fast after that. You both did your normal closing routines, becoming a good team when it came to picking up the store. This time, you set the alarm and locked the door. Jacob, like he did every night, walked you to your car to make sure you were safe.

As he opened the door, he spoke. “I have another question.”

You nodded, urging him to continue.

“I really like doing this with you.”

You smiled, before teasing him. “That’s not a question, Jacob.”

Jacob chuckled. “You’re right, and neither is this.”

As soon as you noticed him leaning in, your eyes closed. You braced for impact and it was the softest impact ever made. His lips were almost feather-like, they were so soft. Your mouth moved in sync with his as you brought your hands up to the back of his neck, willing him to move closer. Jacob’s hands landed at your waist, doing exactly what you hoped for as he pulled you closer.

Jacob pulled away first, letting you both catch your breath as your eyes fluttered open. You felt like you were flying right now. Jacob’s kiss had riding a high you had definitely never experienced before. Your eyes trailed up to his as he gave you a shy smile.

“That wasn’t a question. You are correct about that, but I definitely liked it.” You whispered into the cold air.

He chuckled as he stepped back from you. He gave you another kiss, this time on the cheek as he whispered a soft goodbye to you before heading towards his car. You watched him walk away before yelling out to him.

“Jacob!”

The boy stopped in his tracks, turning around almost instantly.

“Do you want to join my family for Christmas dinner tomorrow?”

A smile broke out onto his face as he nodded. “I’d love that!”

You couldn’t help but let a big smile make its way to your face as you lit up. He gave you another wave before getting into his car. Watching him pull out of the parking lot, you felt oddly giddy over the fact that you were actually looking forward to a Christmas event for the first time in almost a year.

Just like every morning so far this week, you woke up in a very good mood on Christmas day. You ran down the stairs, ready to eat breakfast, open your gifts and get the day started. Your parents handed out gifts, setting them in groups in front of each of you. Tearing into your gifts, you neatly piled everything up before heading upstairs. You felt a tad bit guilty considering you rushed through the gifts, but you couldn’t help yourself. You were so excited to see Jacob. You wanted this dinner to be perfect. After what’s been growing between the two of you to the kiss just last night, you wanted to see where this would go. You had never felt this way about anyone.

The shower you took was long, considering you practiced what you were going to say to Jacob over and over as if you were giving a speech after winning the nobel prize. You were nervous to say the least. After turning into a raisin due to standing in the shower for so long, you finally got out to dry yourself off. You went through your skin care routine as usual before walking into your room. The air hitting your skin was cool as you picked out an outfit.

As you laid the clothes out on your bed you noticed a photo on your photo board. It was hidden behind photos of your cousins and friends. It was a picture of you and Sunwoo, after your first date. He had insisted on taking a photo to capture the moment because he felt as though he had ‘never met anyone like you’. You had hid the photo after what he did to you, but now, you didn’t want to hide it anymore. You pulled the tack that was holding it off the board. The photo slid before you caught it, letting your fingers run over the photo. For once, you didn’t feel sad looking at the photo. In fact, you didn’t feel anything.

You brought the photo with you and laid it on your bed. Throwing your clothes on, you grabbed the photo and headed to the office your parents had. There was a small paper shredder underneath the computer desk that you pulled out and plugged in. The machine started to hum as you looked over the photo again. You weren't the same person in this photo anymore, and boy was Chanhee going to be so proud about what you were about to do.

“Goodbye Sunwoo.” You said to yourself.

You dropped the photo into the top of the shredder, listening to the machine growl and grind the photo up. It felt like a weight had been lifted off of your shoulders. You let out a content sigh as you unplugged the machine and headed back downstairs to spend time with your parents.

The day dragged on for you, and to be honest, you hated it. When late afternoon rolled around, you started to get butterflies in your stomach. Your mother was putting finishing touches on Christmas dinner when there was a knock on the door. You jumped up from the couch, practically gliding to the door as you pulled it open. Jacob held a bouquet of pretty flowers in his hand as he smiled. He was looking insanely handsome, but you could tell that he was also extremely nervous. Well that made two of you.

“Hi,” You breathed out.

Jacob’s face lit up at the sound of your voice. “Hi.”

You two just stood at the door, basking in each other’s glory before you heard your mom speak.

“Well don’t make him freeze. Invite the boy in!”

You snapped out of your little school girl crush trance as you stepped off to the side, allowing Jacob to enter. That’s when you noticed the wrapped gifts he was holding off to the side of himself.

He handed you the roses, leaning down just slightly to peck your cheek as he whispered to you. “You look beautiful.”

A shy smile popped up on your face as he pulled back to hug your parents. Your mom took the gifts from him, laying them on the coffee table. She pulled him into the dining room, practically pushing him into a chair as you followed. You sat across from him, while your parents continued to run around the kitchen to finish everything. Jacob turned to watch them before turning back to you.

“Do they need help?” He pointed towards your parents.

You shook your head with a laugh. “Not at all. Trust me, they’re fine.”

Jacob nodded. He looked over at you before speaking again.

“I couldn't stop thinking about you. I know that’s crazy to say, but that kiss was magical.”

You leaned forward, practically laying on the table in an attempt to get closer to Jacob, and he was doing the same thing.

“I’m glad you said it. I’ll be honest with you, though. I haven’t been able to stop thinking about you since we met.” You told him.

Jacob leaned closer as his eyes flickered down to your lips. You couldn’t fight back the smile as you, too, leaned in closer. Just when it seemed your lips were about to touch, your mother called out.

“Jacob, sweetie, I hope you’re hungry! I made a lot of food.”

You let out a little sigh of frustration as you and Jacob backed off of each other. Your mother and father began carrying food out to the table as they laid it all out in front of you two. The next hour and a half was absolute torture for you. The only thing you could do was sneak adoring glances at Jacob from across the table as your parents chatted his ears off.

If you thought the two of you were being subtle with the glances you were totally wrong. When dinner was done, your father brought Jacob into the living room so you could help your mom clear the table. You watched your dad grab a gift that Jacob had brought as they both talked, smiles on both of their faces.

“So, when were you going to tell me that you and Jacob are dating?” Your mom asked from behind you, hands shoved into soapy dish water.

You turned to her. “Dating? Mom, Jacob and I aren’t dating.”

She chuckled. “Could’ve fooled me.”

Letting out a sigh, you leaned into one of the counters across from her, effectively blocking your view of Jacob and your father.

“We aren’t dating. We’ve kissed, though.”

Your mother gasped excitedly, pulling her hands out of the water to clap. You laughed as she created tiny bubbles in the air from the suds clinging to her skin.

“You don’t know how long I’ve wanted you to meet him. I was always hesitant to introduce the two of you because of, well,” Your mom trailed off.

She didn’t need to finish for you to know who she was talking about.

“I know. I’m glad you introduced us this year though. For the first time in a long time, I’ve enjoyed Christmas.” You told her.

She smiled as someone knocked on the counter. You both turned towards Jacob who had a wrapped present in his hand.

“I don’t mean to interrupt, but I got you a gift.” His hand reaches out to you in an attempt to extend the Christmas present.

Your mom smiled. “I’ll give you two a minute.”

As she slipped past Jacob, he watched her leave before looking back at you.

“Go ahead. Open it.”

You chuckled at his urgency as you tore the wrapping paper, giving way to a blank cardboard box. You set it on the counter, opening the top of the box. Your eyes widened slightly as you pulled styrofoam out of the box.

“Jacob, you didn’t.” You whispered as the boy smiled.

Pulling the styrofoam apart, there was a beautiful, antique snow globe sitting in front of you. The bottom of the snow globe was gold with red and silver accents. A molded design of Santa and his reindeer going across the gold base. The globe itself was crystal clear, and it had the Christmas shop planted in the middle of it with a tiny gingerbread man standing outside waving. When you shook it, the globe lit up in all sorts of pretty colors as the snow fell around the structure. You had been eyeballing the snow globe since you walked into the shop, constantly mentioning how pretty it was. The kicker was that with it being an antique, it was pricey. So you opted for admiring it from afar.

“I figured I owe you one. You kept me from going insane. I’d never admit this, but you’re right. It does get boring there when it’s slow.”

You giggled. “Took you long enough to admit it.”

Jacob stepped closer. “Well, you kept me company. You are definitely not boring.”

Looking up from the snowglobe, you smiled at the boy. “Jacob, this is beautiful and amazing. Thank you.”

He nodded. “You’re amazing.”

There was no hesitation this time as Jacob leaned in to kiss you. He brought his hands to your waist, not wanting to be any farther apart from you than he already was. Your hands rested on his chest as you pulled apart, leaning your forehead against his.

“Now I feel bad,” You stated, making the boy look at you with a confused look. “I didn’t get you anything.”

He threw his head back with a laugh. “You most definitely got me something. This has probably been the best Christmas I’ve ever had, and that’s because of you. So thank you.”

“So,” You said, bringing your hands up to wrap around his neck. “I guess this means we’re dating now?”

Jacob chuckled. “Woah! At least let me take you on a date first.”

He pecked your lips before pulling away, keeping a firm grip on your hand. You grabbed the snowglobe as he led you into the family room where your parents were. Sitting on the couch, he wrapped an arm around you as he pecked your forehead. You smiled to yourself as you snuggled into the boy’s side. This Christmas was definitely going in the memory books.

[praetorqueenreyna]

Summary:

soare cu dinți - “sun with teeth.” A day that is invitingly sunny and bright, but deceptively cold. What if in ACOTAR when Nesta set out to rescue Feyre, she succeeded in getting through the Wall?

So excited to be able to reveal my fic for the @acotargiftexchange! I was Secret Santa for @sadiebluewin, who requested a Neris fic. I hope you enjoy it, I had so much fun writing this!!

You can find this fic on AO3 here, or continue reading below.

***********************

Nesta hated the faerie lands. She hated the trees that whispered a mocking prayer over her head, wishing for her to stumble and fall. She hated the unfamiliar animal noises that rang through the darkness. She hated how one moment she seemed to be in a warm spring day, and the next a bitter winter’s night. Her days traveling through the faerie realm blurred together until she had no idea how long it had been since she had left the mercenary at the wall and entered this hellscape alone. Throughout that time, she never allowed herself to be afraid. Instead, she was angry. She rode on her fury like a wild stallion, doggedly moving through the forest that tangled in her hair and pulled at her clothing. Feyre was somewhere here, in this horrible place, and she was going to find her.

A snarl rang out, closer than the other animal sounds. Nesta froze, scanning the trees around her. She now appeared to be in a deciduous forest in the middle of autumn, her vision obscured by trees covered in leaves the color of flames. The growl came again, closer this time, from her left. That was all the warning she got before a monster leapt out of the trees and tackled her.

She didn’t scream as she fought and writhed against the beast. It was too close and too fast for her to get a good look of it, she only observed it in flashes. A hint of matted fur here, a patch of scales there. More pressing were the sharp yellow teeth that snapped in the air, itching to rip her throat out. Nesta put out an arm to push the thing away, only for those teeth to sink into her flesh. Now she did scream as drops of her own blood began to rain on her face. She instinctively pulled, howling in pain when the monster tightened its jaws on her forearm. Her free arm uselessly beat against its side, but she might as well not have bothered. This was the end. She was going to die.

Suddenly, the beast collapsed. Its grip on her slackened and it sank onto her, a dead weight. It flopped to the side and freed her, allowing her to view her savior. Her first thought was that he was not human. He was too pale, too graceful, too cruelly beautiful to be anything other than one of the High Fae. His bright red hair blended in with the fall colors in the background, as if he had simply stepped directly out of one of the tree trunks. He wasn’t looking at her, instead preoccupied with drawing a sword from the flank of the monster and wiping the thick green blood away with his sleeve.

“What are you doing here?” he asked in a conversational tone, still giving all his attention to the sword. As if he were too good to even glance her way. Despite him saving her life, everything about him pissed Nesta off.

“None of your business.” She pushed herself to her feet with her good arm. The sudden change in position made her lightheaded, and she wondered how much more blood she could lose before she passed out.

“Considering you’re on my land and I just saved your life, it very much is my business.” He finally was looking at her, scanning her with cold eyes that seemed to find her wanting.

“I didn’t ask you to do that.” She made to take a step forward, only to be stopped by a hand on her shoulder. She resisted, and the pressure increased, pinning her in place. Refusing to show any deference, she huffed in annoyance. “My sister was taken by a beast. I crossed the wall to find her.”

“You came here alone?”

“Yes.” Nesta was tired, and she needed to tend to her arm. She hadn’t looked at it yet, but it throbbed painfully every time her heart beat. “Can I go now?”

The faerie hummed, but didn’t answer. He glanced over her, noticing her injury for the first time. “I can fix that for you.”

“No.” Nesta was no idiot. The faerie would offer to heal her, in exchange for her body, or her soul. She’d be trapped in his clutches for all of eternity, and she’d never find her sister.

“You’ll die if I don’t.” His tone indicated he didn’t care one way or the other. “Then I’ll have to find a way to hide your body. It’ll be a whole thing if the High Lord discovers a live human in this court. Far easier to fix you up and have you walk out.”

She didn’t want to go with him, but she was running out of options. She had clutched her injured arm against her chest, and already the front of her dress was soaked in blood. “Fine. Just promise that I’ll be allowed to leave alive. Soon, not in one hundred years.” Everyone knew that the fae couldn’t lie.

His mouth twitched into what could be considered the beginning of a grin. “I promise.”

***********************

The faerie led her to a surprisingly small cottage that reminded Nesta of the one they had only recently been able to leave. The interior was minimalist, barely furnished for a single person. From what Nesta knew, the High Fae were greedy materialistic assholes. She was expecting some kind of luxurious castle, adorned with the riches this fae had stolen. Uneasy, she wondered what else she had taken as fact about the fae was also untrue.

“Sit down, human,” the male ordered.

Nesta bristled. “Don’t talk to me like that. My name is Nesta.” He acted like he hadn’t heard, gesturing to a chair with a dismissive wave of his hand. Nesta chose to remain standing. With a long-suffering sigh, he approached her and reached for her arm. She jerked away in alarm. “What are you doing?”

“I’m going to heal you.”

“No. No magic. Get me some first aid supplies. I’ll do it myself.” Nesta didn’t trust the faerie as far as she could throw him, and she certainly didn’t want him laying his hands on her.

“Fine.” He brushed past her to sit at the dining room table. In front of him was a bottle of liquor and an empty glass that hadn’t been on the table a moment ago. There was also a roll of white bandages, a towel, and a bowl of faintly steaming water. The male dropped down into a chair and poured himself a generous helping of the amber liquid. With him thus occupied, Nesta approached the table warily. With one eye on the faerie, she rolled up her sleeve to assess her wound. It wasn’t as bad as she had thought, once she used the towel soaked in hot water to dab away the blood. The beast’s teeth had left ragged holes in her flesh, but the bone wasn’t broken and she could still move her hand. As she wrapped the bandages tightly around her arm, she asked the question that was burning on her tongue.

“Who are you?”

“I am Eris Vanserra. My father is the High Lord of the Autumn Court.”

Oh fuck. Not only had she been found by a powerful High Fae, but he was the son of a High Lord? Nesta was in a lot more danger than she had thought. Keeping her voice neutral, she asked, “Is that where we are? Autumn?”

“Yes. There are seven Courts in Prythian: Autumn, Spring, Summer, Winter, Dawn, Day, and Night.” He spoke slowly, as if he were speaking to a child. Nesta was offended, even though she knew nothing of the faerie realm.

“When I crossed the Wall, the forest…changed. Sometimes it was night, then day. Spring, then winter. How could that be if I was only crossing one Court?”

Eris shrugged. “Prythian is hostile to humans. It’s very possible the forest was messing with you, bouncing you between different Courts.” He took a thoughtful drink. “That would explain how you ended up here though. We’re hundreds of miles from the Wall.”

Nesta wanted to scream. If this damned realm was capable of transporting her anywhere, how could she ever find Feyre?

For a few hours, they talked, Nesta having resolved to find out as much as possible about this land and her new host. When she asked why he was staying in such meager lodgings if he was some kind of prince, he had shrugged and said that most of his family was away, and he was the only one who was able to occasionally come back. When pressed for details, he stopped answering her questions. He also wouldn’t give her a good answer when she bluntly asked why he hadn’t killed her yet.

“I’m bored. You’re the most interesting thing that has happened in a year.”

Her next question was interrupted by a huge yawn. It felt like she hadn’t slept in days. Eris dismissed himself and disappeared through a doorway that presumably led to a bedroom. At some point, he had magically replaced the couch in the living room with a small bed. Nesta didn’t like the metallic scent of magic that clung in the air, but she was too tired to put up a fight. She sank onto the bed and fell asleep immediately.

***********************

She stabbed him that night. Nightmares filled with gnashing teeth and Feyre’s screams had her sitting bolt upright, pale and sweating. She dug through her cloak to find the iron dagger she had bought from the mercenary, clenching it in a clammy fist. Suitably armed, she crept into Eris’s bedroom, swathed in the cold light of the moon. Asleep, his harsh features had softened. Before she could look too closely and lose her nerve, she drove the dagger into his thigh. Like a striking viper, his hand shot out and wrapped around her wrist. His eyes were open, and he looked annoyed. Nesta struggled, fully expecting him to rip her in half. Instead, he pulled out the knife and dropped it on the floor. Then he swung his bare feet out from the bed and frogmarched her out of his room, barely limping.

“Iron doesn’t do much to us, sweetheart. Next time, try ashwood.” With a slight shove, he released her and closed the bedroom door in her face. There was a dramatic click when the lock slid into place. At a loss for how to proceed, Nesta returned to her bed.

In the morning, Nesta began to walk. She struck out in a straight path through the forest, keeping track of her progress by carving an “X” on the trees every few yards with the iron dagger that had been cleaned and left on the dining room table. Eris accompanied her as an irritating shadow. She would have insisted on going by herself, but she was terrified that setting out on her own would mean that she’d be transported somewhere else, miles away. With the fae at her side, the land seemed to cooperate; she stayed within a grove of oak and maple, a crisp chill note in the air.

In the evening, she returned to the cabin. Eris had mentioned that most of the forest’s creatures were nocturnal, leaving her to make the decision for herself. While she loathed her companion and yearned to make more headway through the realm, she was a realist. There was no way she could fend off another one of those monsters by herself, especially not with her injured arm that throbbed painfully every time she moved it.

They settled into a routine. Each morning, Nesta would awaken and begin shuffling around the kitchen. A few minutes later, Eris would emerge from his room, fully dressed. It didn’t occur to Nesta until a few weeks in that Eris likely woke up before her, but waited in his bedroom until he was sure that she was awake as well. Nesta had no idea where the food in the kitchen came from, but it was always fully stocked: fresh fruit and vegetables, pastries still warm from the oven, ice cold decanters of water and juice.

Sometimes, when they stepped outside, Eris would give a piercing whistle. A chorus of howls answered him, and a fleet of gray shapes streaked through the trees towards them. The first time it happened, Nesta had been sure that Eris had grown tired of her and had summoned a demon to kill her. Instead, the shapes had flashed past her to Eris, coalescing into a flock of a dozen baying hounds. They wound between his legs and jumped up to lick his face. He was a lot less intimidating covered in dog slobber and trying to fend them off with an amused grin. They were being taken care of somewhere else, apparently, but were always ready to come when Eris called.

At first, Nesta refused to even acknowledge Eris during their exploration. She was focused on her mission of finding Feyre, constantly scanning the treeline and searching for signs that her sister had come through here. It was lonely. Nesta had never truly been alone. Through everything, there had always been Feyre and Elain. She began to ask Eris questions about Prythian, safe questions that she could pass off as a way to learn more about the land to aid her in her quest. When he answered those, she began asking questions about himself. She learned that he had six younger brothers. That even though he was the eldest, he wasn’t necessarily going to become the next High Lord. That she was the first human he had met since the war. That he had already been over 100 years old when the war started.

Eventually she began talking about herself. About her mother, her father, and Elain. And Feyre. She told Eris about the years in the cabin, and everything Feyre had done for them, culminating in her sacrificing herself to a fae beast. The riches and return to status that had followed was because of Feyre, Nesta was sure of it. Even from her prison in Prythian, she made sure her family was taken care of. Despite how they had treated her.

“Why were you such a bitch to her then?” Eris asked, holding aside a tree branch for Nesta to duck under it.

Nesta had long stopped being insulted by Eris’s blunt language. She found it refreshing. By now she had learned that the fae could lie, but Eris rarely did. “I don’t know,” she answered honestly. “I think…I think I was trying to drive her away.” She paused, bracing herself on his arm to take a large step across a creek. “She would have been better off on her own. Without us. I wanted her to leave and force our father to step up and take care of us.” A sigh. “It was stupid. Father was broken, and Feyre would never have left him.” It had been so easy to blame everybody else when they were in the grip of poverty. Now, Nesta only wished that she had done more. Maybe things would have turned out differently.

Eris didn’t look disgusted with her. Instead, he spoke slowly, considering. “My youngest brother was always the best of all of us. I hated him for it, sometimes. That we had all been through the same things, and he was still good.” He gave Nesta a wry smile. “He did leave us, though. He’s better off now.”

“Where did he go?” Nesta asked, but Eris turned away from her and wouldn’t answer.

That evening, like every evening, he told her to sit down so he could examine her wounds. Every other time Nesta had refused. Now, she sat at the table and held her arm out on the bare wooden surface. If he was shocked, he didn’t show it. He unwrapped the bandages, exposing the gouges that the monster’s teeth had left behind. It hurt like hell, but Nesta bit the inside of her cheek to keep from whimpering. She was ready to yank her arm away if he tried to use magic. He didn’t even try; just wiped down the wounds and rewrapped them. His hands were warm, almost too hot to be comforting. She told herself it was that searing heat that made her feel his touch for hours afterwards.

***********************

Months passed. Nesta didn’t realize how fond she had grown of Eris until he started leaving the cabin for a few days at a time. He wouldn’t tell her where he was going, but she assumed it had to do with his role as the High Lord’s son. The first time he left, she was overwhelmed by an aching loneliness that took her breath away. She missed eating breakfast with him, and their trips through the forest looking for Feyre. She missed his stupid smirk and making fun of him for needing to use magic for everything. His smokehounds had learned to come when she called them, but even their company wasn’t enough to ease the pang of her solitude. Though she would die before ever admitting it, she began sleeping in his bed when he was gone, curled around one of his pillows with the youngest of the hounds pressed against her back.

She had never felt this way about a man. Not even Tomas, when she had been prepared to marry him. Reminding herself that Eris was not a man, and that he likely viewed her the same way he viewed his dogs, didn’t help. It didn’t matter anyway. As soon as she found Feyre, she was getting them both out of here.

The search for her sister had continued every day. After one of his trips away, Eris had returned with two horses, increasing their search radius by miles. Even now Nesta didn’t know what exactly she was searching for. Especially since it was possible that the forest had dumped Feyre and her captor at the other end of the continent, far beyond where Nesta could travel in a single day. Her arm was getting better, but she could still barely move it. If she tried to go off on her own, she’d surely be killed. The next step of her plan was working up the courage to ask Eris to accompany her.

For now, they explored Autumn. Nesta could almost forget her mission and the danger that she was in, riding horseback next to Eris, chatting as they trotted through the woods. A glint of silver through the trees caught her attention, and she made a beeline to its source. It was a gorgeous pond, still and smooth, filling a crater in the bare rock. Eris dismounted and knelt next to the water’s edge to examine it.

“It’s a hot spring,” he exclaimed after sticking his hand in the water. “I never knew this was here.”

Nesta followed his lead and dipped her hand in the pond. It was comfortably warm, like bathwater. She hadn’t known such a thing even existed. “What makes it hot?”

“Volcanic activity under the surface, usually.”

To Nesta’s alarm, Eris began undressing, pulling off his boots and socks. “What are you doing?”

He gave her a look like she was an idiot. “Going swimming.”

“Is it safe?” Nesta was too proud to admit she didn’t know what volcanic activity was, but if it had the power to heat the pond she didn’t want to find out what else it could do.

“Probably.” He stopped as he began unlacing his tunic. “Are you coming?”

“I can’t swim.” Nesta could feel herself turning red at the admission. “You go on, though.”

“Oh.” Eris thought for a moment, then changed tactics and began rolling up the legs of his pants. “We can just wade in the shallows, then.”

“No, you don’t have to—”

“I’ll hold onto you the whole time, you won’t fall in. I promise.”

Faeries could lie, but Eris didn’t. Not allowing her mind to wander, Nesta took off her own shoes and stockings. She gathered her skirts up in her good hand so they bunched up around her thighs. Eris took her by the elbow and guided her into the water. It felt wonderful, soothing and warm, the smooth bare rock heaven on her bare feet. Tiny fish whizzed by them in the crystal clear water. Eris was right next to her now, one hand on her arm and one on her waist. His scent, which at first had been overpowering and threatening, now comforted her.

“Aren’t you brave?” he murmured, right in her ear. Nesta slipped, flailing inelegantly as she tried to catch her balance. Eris moved to catch her and managed to keep them both upright. She had dropped her skirts and was now waist-deep in the pond. In his effort to save her, Eris was now clutching her tightly against him. They were both soaking wet from her splashing. Instead of being annoyed, he chuckled. “Clumsy, too.”

“I am human,” she retorted. Instead of mocking her, Eris regarded her closely. One of his hands came up to brush a few damp strands of hair away from her face. Her breathing stuttered, her heart beating so rapidly she could feel it in her fingertips.

“Yes you are.” The back of his knuckles skimmed across her cheek, her jaw, her neck. “I never knew humans could be so…” he trailed off, and then instead of finishing his sentence, he kissed her.

Nesta had been kissed before. Just never like this. Eris kissed her like he had been fasting and she was a decadent meal he could finally indulge in. In that moment, Nesta forgot everything: her wounded arm, Feyre, the fact that she was in a land that was actively trying to kill her. Eris pulled back too soon. “I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be.” With a forwardness she had never possessed, she wrapped her hands around the back of his neck and pulled his mouth back to hers.

At some point, they had to leave the hot spring. Eris used his magic to dry them both off, so they could comfortably lay down in the grass. Nesta found herself half on top of Eris, lazily kissing, her injured arm folded between them.

“Will you finally let me heal this?” he asked, lightly touching the arm in question.

“No,” Nesta answered against his throat.

“Stubborn woman.” Eris hooked his fingers under her chin to bring her lips up to where he wanted them.

During a break for them to catch their breath, Nesta sighed. “I’m never going to find Feyre, am I?”

“Probably not. We’ll keep looking though.”

“I just wish that stupid beast had said where it was going.”

Eris sat upright. “It talked to you?”

Nesta sat up as well. “Yes. It said that since she had killed a faerie, it would take her and keep her in Prythian forever. A life for a life.” Reliving the moment that that horrible monster had burst into their home and taken her baby sister was too painful, and she had never told Eris the full story of what had happened.

“And what did the beast look like?” Eris was staring into her eyes intently, with a much different energy than he had had a moment ago.

“Like a mountain lion mixed with a wolf. With elk antlers.”

Eris cursed and rose to his feet. “I’m such a fucking idiot.” He pulled Nesta up as well. “I know where your sister is.”

The air left Nesta’s lungs. “Take me to her.”

[laffy-taffy-creations]

An Cumhachd A Thig Le Cùram

The Power That Comes With Caring

This is my secret santa gift for @esperosisdoeswriting! Their prompt was Villain and/or monster dad that is quite evil but very much loves and adores his power-less child. Found family highly encouraged. I hope you like it Esper!

WARNINGS: violence, death, cussing

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Supervillain was shoved in the direction of the cop car. "Alright, ALRIGHT I'm going! Fuck off!" he said while walking in that direction.

How angry he was. These stupid heroes treating him like nothing more than a herd cattle! It was infuriating.

If Child weren't nearby he'd tear out the throats of everyone around him.

He sat down in the back and was closed in there for a bit. Apparently getting him into custody wasn't the first priority.

He heard squabbling. One of the voices sounded like Child. They were probably so scared right now, those heroes taking their parent away from them, no wonder they were resisting.

Eventually the car started moving, the person in the passenger's seat asking Supervillain questions.

"Yes, I kidnapped them." "No, that kid is not someone I kidnapped." "My history of torture does not apply here." "Those heroes? They're dead. Pissed me off too much while I held them hostage, kept asking for food or water." "Her screams were oh so delightful. You should've been there." "Leave the kid out of this."

He had no reason to hide anything he did. Infact he took much pride in all his crimes.

And why wouldn't he? He was Supervillain. He marked everything thoroughly once he realized the cops would never find him.

He was… ticked off about that, to say the least. Child was just a kid. A powerless one at that. If there was ever a group of people that would take advantage of them, exploit them, even abuse them, it would be the police and heroes.

Except now they had. And now they had Child too.

They arrived at the agency. "C'mon, get out. We're putting you in custody."

"No."

"No?" one of the heroes sneered.

"Tell me where my kid is or I'm not getting out of this damn vehicle."

Laughter. Laugher that made the supervillain see red. Laughter that made him almost break the cuffs right then and there.

"Tell me where they are right now or so help me-"

He was cut off by a sniggering hero, "You're infront of a hero agency. Whatever you do, you have an army's worth of heroes to contend with. You ain't gonna do shit."

"Tell me where they are."

A superior walked up to the group. "What's the hold up? I need him in a cell, STAT."

"He won't leave the car unless we tell him where the kid we found in his house is."

You fuckers that's my child.

The superior sighed. "Just tell him, we can't waste anymore time."

One of the heroes rolled their eyes then turned to Supervillain. "Fine. They're being brought to our agency and held in an interrogation room for a while where you can't get to them while we figure out why they were there."

He finally stepped out of the car, satisfied with that. Child would be here too. He was okay with that.

He was led down into the facility, celebratory cheers following him at every turn while the heroes led him on.

Something isn't right.

He could sense it. Deep down. Call it parental instinct. Something was wrong.

He stopped moving. The heroes started shouting at him, pushing, trying to drag him. He tuned them out. Their methods didn't work as his body didn't budge.

Then, he heard it.

His child was screaming.

And so the cuffs broke.

Red, red, everything was red as the screams turned from a child's fear to adults' pain. He lashed out, tearing out their throats, hearts, lungs, whichever of the vital body parts was closest.

The shadows of his power stretching far and wide and terrorizing the whole damn agency.

He would not stop until he found his kid.

Rushing through the halls, leaving marks across every surface his shadows scraped. Like a wild beast searching for its prey.

You fuckers better pray to whatever gods you follow that I'll be quick.

People started fighting back, there was electricity, punches, force fields, weapons. None of it was Child. And so the rage continued.

He hunted, hunted, tracking down the heroes that stole his child, took them from his home.

Clawing his way through the bodies separating him from his kin.

And there they were. Child, crying, backed against a wall while Supervillain crushed the skull of the hero they were cowering from.

His mind cleared, his child was in front of him. And he had just killed.

Out of everything, that was his one rule. No villainy in front of his kid. In front of Child. But now…

He walked forward, wary. Would they even look at him the same? Would there be fear in their eyes?

He knelt down in front of them. "Hey. I'm… sorry you had to see that. I understand if you're-"

"PAPA!" Child suddenly lunged forward and buried their head in his chest, sobbing and shaking like a leaf.

He was stunned, to say the least. "Yeah, it's me." He stroked their hair a little bit.

They cried and cried, finally safe, finally secure. They didn't care that Supervillain had just murdered every hero in the building, they were finally okay because their father was here.

And he wasn't leaving them any time soon.

He wasn't Hero afterall.

[voydhund]

Christmas Miwi/Little Byler headcanons for you <3

-Around Christmas, Mike would always go over to Will's house and they would watch Christmas movies like Roudolph The Red Nosed Reindeer (1964), How The Grinch Stole Christmas (1966), and Frosty The Snowman (1969) in the living room until they fell asleep on the couch. -Will's favorite character in Roudolph is- surprise, you guessed it -Roudolph. Mike's is Hermie. -Mike would always put way too many marshmallows in his hot chocolate, and Will would only put one or two in his. Mike thought Will was weird for that. -Mike and Will ended up under a mistletoe once or twice with little understanding of what it meant- all Mike knew was 'You gotta kiss whoever is under it with ya no matter what. It's da rules.' after seeing it in movies, so Mike kissed Will on the cheek. Will was confused because 'hey, what? That can't be right.' and Mike shrugged it of as 'just the rules. Come on lets go read some comics.' -Mike was always so confused about how Santa got in his (and Will's) house on Christmas when they didn't have a chimney. -Mike convinced Will to stay up and watch for Santa once or twice. They set up- what was in their minds -a perfect trap with a tripwire and a can attached. Will fell asleep halfway through both, and Mike would too. He'd always blame SOMEONE for letting them fall asleep, even though it was their 'secret mission.' -One time, Chester set off the tripwire trap and it scared both of them awake. They both ran out to find a confused Chester trying to squeeze under the wire instead of stepping over it. -Will heard a squirrel on the roof one night and was convinced that it was Santa's reindeer. He'd ran outside to see them, and was very disappointed when he didn't even see them flying off. -Will saw a dead buck in the woods once and cried because he thought it was Donner. -Will always made his gifts for people himself, and put extra effort into the ones he made for Mike. -Mike usually only got Will gifts and was very picky about what he got for him. 'Well, why not get him a comic?' 'No. He already has all of them.' -Mike was the one to give Will that tiger stuffed animal after he mentioned he liked tigers one time. Will treasured the tiger and made sure it was with him all the time. (Might do more later <3 stay tuned)