#secret santa 2024

[dawneternal]

Surprise @fieldofdaisiies it's me!! Your secret Santa!!

I think you are so sweet and cool and talented and I was so excited to see that I got your name! ☺️

For the first part of your gift, here is Azris in a field of daisies 💛 (tap/click the image to see with better quality!)

How they ended up here will be revealed in the mini fic that goes with it, coming soon!

I put a dagger on the book cover as if Eris is reading a thriller or maybe a mystery, and Az has definitely figured out all of the twists by reading over his shoulder but of course he won't say anything 🤭 and yes, he is wearing a flower crown 🌼

it's been a long time since I've drawn Eris with long hair but you may have turned me over to the long hair side with this! I ended up loving his red nails too.

I hope you like it! Part 2 is coming soon!!

[shinayashipper]

My part of the Secret Santa Event 2024 in the Puzzleship server I was in!! This is my gift to @kaitheenbydoesthings ❤❤

This is based on Kai's fic WORMGI which is kinda silly but Very Very SWEET & CUTE, beloveds (pls read the fic for context)

It's about immortal vampire Atem and mortal!Yugi who reincarnates and they meet again in every Yugi's lifetime. Yugi isn't always reincarnated as a human, and he wonders if he got turned into a worm, would Atem still love him or not 😂 SILLY QUESTION because Atem will NO DOUBT Loves him again & again!!

I hope Kai and everyone else liked this and enjoyed it ❤ Happy holidays, stay warm!!

[iftheshoef1tz]

I, Carrion

Summary: There is something wrong, but Eris cannot remember what. [Written for the 2024 @acotargiftexchange]

Rating: M

Pairing: Azriel/Eris

Notes: SURPRISE @acourtofladydeath!! Turns out your Santa wasn’t European after all. It was hard to keep a secret from you, but i had help 😈 you are the best and you deserve the best this crazy season (and all seasons).

Special thanks to @secret-third-thing, @queercontrarian, @yanny-77, @poisonivy206, @aurorasleeps-27 and @areyoudreaminof for various vibe checks, beta reads, playlist help, and general good times. You can find the fic’s playlist here.

Read now on ao3.

[vinzred]

Declan Yancy for @awespex ! as my secret santa 2024 gift.

i hope you like it! i love toreador and had a lot of fun.

big thanks also to @crownedinmarigolds and @auspex for organising this.

[stickybowl]

alex getting oscar and carlos getting franco for secret santa how do i make this about carcar

[kyo-mie]

Secret Santa for @alds_illustration on ig

drew this for my orgmate, alds (college org's secret santa event). this is his oc, super cool. yall can check out his Instagram on here: his ig: https://www.instagram.com/alds_illustration/ not been getting traction on twitter since I started so I might post on here primarily instead., ,. looking for tumblr moots and new friends :)) a positive thing bout tumblr is that I can just yap endlessly cuz of the char limit! waHoo

[ladytomahawk]

Secret Santa gift(s) for @elliemyrah !!! Decided to do two of them bc I love to play and draw. Thank you so much to @sweetcircuits for hosting this event!!! I really did have so much fun!!! I ❤️ SPREADING HOLIDAY CHEER! JOYOUS DAY UPON THEE!

I really hope tumblr doesn’t kill the quality bc I added so many not noticeable at first small details😭😭

[shadowsandlint]

Yees! The energy I wanna put out for next year's exchange!

THE RUMORS WERE TRUE, IT WAS ME ALL ALONG

This was so fun, I had so much fun being a menace to @secret-third-thing. It was really hard at times because we do interact outside of these Santa and giftee interactions and I had to constantly make sure I remembered what Santa knew vs what daycourtofficial knew (which is very difficult when SOMEONE will ask you the same question as both identities)

STT actually accused me of being her Santa very early in and I’m actually pretty sure she figured it out in 8 hours (sorry I’m such an icon I’m so easily identifiable 😘). I was SCRAMBLING to make her think it wasn’t me - I even adapted small differences in writing, changing how I spoke, and lying my ass off constantly. I really thought I had botched the whole thing three days in, HOWEVER, I kept going because I thought it was fun and ultimately I really didn’t care if she knew it was me.

Want to give a big thanks to the moderators @acotargiftexchange - thank you so much for your hard work matching people and double thanks for matching me with STT. No one could have predicted this but boy do I hope yall enjoyed the show.

Thank you to all who have been following along. I hope you got lots of enjoyment out of this and were wrong about who I was.

Biggest thanks to @secret-third-thing for matching my freak. I did not expect my recipient to force me to take an ABO quiz, but here we are. When I had signed up for Secret Santa, I did so hoping I would get you and by god was it more fun than I had anticipated. You are a freak and I love you dearly for it.

PS you’ll get your fic in a minute, I know you have to scream about this first

Sleigh it ain’t so,

Santa (@daycourtofficial)

[works-of-heart]

Happy Holidays @lady-of-tearshed !! I am your secret santa for the @acotargiftexchange Are you surprised? I tried bringing your vision to life of Lucien carrying a very tired (maybe slightly tipsy hehe) Elain home from a solstice party! I hope his butt is nice and juicy for you! If not, well.... Enjoy this little stocking stuffer here!

A Lucien to keep you warm during the cold, cold nights!

This was so much fun! It was so hard to not want to spoil early on. I hope you like your gifts!! It was an amazing pleasure talking and getting to know you dear! You're so sweet and lovely, and I hope you have a fantastic Holiday season!!!

Yours Truly,

Your Secret Santa

[yurionice-secretsanta]

Welcome to the Yuri!!! on Ice Secret Santa 2024 edition! This upcoming Holiday season you can join the YOI Secret Santa gift exchange, to make Christmas a little extra special for all your following YOI fans! It will of course results in a lot of wonderful new YOI stories, art and other creations that’ll will enrich the fandom even more ;)

SIGN UPS ARE NOW OPEN!

How it works:

You MUST have a Tumblr or AO3

Sign up with what you want to make ( e.g. fic or fanvideo)

Also list what you’d like to receive (e.g. gifsets, drawings)

Add which characters and pairings you like to receive (e.g. Victuuri, Otayuri)

List some of your likes (e.g. Soulmate AU, Fantasy AU)

List which dislikes and you don’t want to receive or make (e.g. Daddy kink, Angst)

Sign ups are done via a google form

SIGN UP DEADLINE: Friday NOVEMBER 8TH After that assignments will be send out to everyone by email on November 9th/10th, and then you’ll have around three weeks to make gifts for the person assigned to you ^_^

»» Read the guidelines here ««

»» Sign Up here! ««

GIFT SUBMISSION DEADLINE: SUNDAY DECEMBER 1TH (no specific time, just submit on that Sunday or any day prior to that!)

On Christmas Eve/Day (24th/25th) all the gifts will be posted for everyone! Then on the 28th and after you’re are of course free to post the gifts you made to your own Tumblr or any other site ^_^

If you still have questions, don’t hesitate to send an ask!

So what are you waiting for? Sign up now!

Also please help signal boost this post, by re-blogging it, would be much appreciated <3

[spinjitsuburst]

ALRIGHT EVERYBODY IT'S THAT TIME OF YEAR AGAIN!!

Me and my lovely mods @finn-m-corvex @lightning-chicken and @abunnsburrow are hosting a NINJAGO SECRET SANTA in my Discord server, the league of jays!! please laugh at this poster i was gonna do something serious but then this happened graphic design is my passion

RULES FOR THE SECRET SANTA ARE SAME AS LAST YEAR

you must be 16 or older to join

deadline to enter is December 11th! Only those who have joined the server and filled out the Google Form provided by that date will be entered!!

to enter the server you have to put down at least one social media in your introduction (safety rules)

both artists and writers are welcome!! if you wanna just stick around for the secret santa and dip you're more than welcome to. Hope to see you here and happy holidays!!

[iftheshoef1tz]

Chapter Two

Notes: Special thanks to @poisonivy206 and @queercontrarian for looking this over! As before, mind the tags; I can tell you what to skip if you’d like to avoid reading about SA.

He opens his eyes. The sun is just rising.

There had been a moment, just before he woke, that he could almost hear a voice. He can’t hear the contour of the words said, just the vowels, the laughing rise and fall of it.

In the lake, his reflection wavers.

The swan – Vassa – had been so sure he would remember everything. He had let himself believe it, but perhaps his past is only ever going to return to him in watery dreams.

There isn’t much to do except pretend the world hasn’t reordered itself around hope, and so he spends much of the morning dozing in the sun as the water rocks him back and forth.

“Wake up.”

Read now on ao3.

[spnfanficpond]

Secret Santa 2024 Edition

It’s the season for giving and receiving! Join the SpnFanFicPond's Secret Santa Fic Exchange between Monday, October 28th, and Friday, November 15th, to be paired up with another writer based on your interests. You write for them, and they write for you.

Fill Out This Form

Deadline: December 25th 

Frequently Asked Questions

When can I post my fic?

Post any time up until December 25!

What do you do once you finish writing your fic:

Once you complete your usual process, post it with a tag for your Secret Santa partner, and then send us the link here or in Discord DMs.

Can I mix with other bingos and challenges I'm doing?

Yes, as long as you are filling your exchange partner's request!

Some handy but not required prompts if you're looking for inspiration: 

Trying to surprise your partner for a date

baking/cooking for your partner

going on a hunt 

stuck in a snowstorm/stuck at home because of a snowstorm

possessed turkey, haunted stuffing

Santa is real

winter sports gone wrong

Santa’s bag is actually full of naughty children

[Character of choice]’s cooking lands someone in the hospital

Rowena enchants everyone’s gifts for lols

[doshiart]

and if you wind up in the dark again just turn and call my name and if the fire in your chest comes out well, i'll hold you all the same [small hands by radical face] // [fanart for story by nosho, go and read!]

to dear nosho @creepkinginc 🍏 with my warmest wishes happy holidays <3

special thanks to ice @spookygingerr and willow @ian-galagher for organizing this sweet secret santa!

[neciebee]

Happy @acotargiftexchange !!!

@born-to-riot , my grubby, greedy gremlin, I hope you've enjoyed this experience! I see you panting and pawing at Santa baby, and she just won't give you no treats. Well here's a treat for you! I had fun working as many references, jokes, and your interests into a cohesive fic. Try to enjoy the story first, then go back and find the bits of you! (Ngl, it's pretty on the nose.)

Not Sorry

Azriel x Eris

4k words

Link to AO3

Summary: Azriel finds himself in an unfortunate position and reflects on the choices that lead him there. No regrets. Eris is barely holding it together, and does not appreciate the surprise his father has for him.

Azriel

Roiling shadows. Pressure throbbed at the base of his skull. The drip drip drip of water on stone greeted him as his consciousness pieced itself back together. There was an ache across his shoulders. Raw pain rubbed at his scarred wrists. He took the score of each part of his body. Yep, Azriel was not in the most comfortable situation.

Pulling on his shadows, he explored his surroundings.

deep deep deep down dark cold cold

Back in a dungeon. It seemed he'd never escape. He directed his familiars to the shackles around his wrists that anchored him to the cold, stone wall. He was hung up like a tapestry, threads of red and white weaving a compelling tale of blades on skin. Highlights of black and blue were painted with blunter instruments. He hoped his tattoos would heal aligned. The ash bolt scar above his heart slashed through his rune for Night.

can't can't can't blue poison blue pain

Everywhere his life had taken him, he'd always ended up buried deep in some place of hurt and isolation. For a winged fae, it was naturally abhorrent to be enclosed as he had been, but there was nothing natural about the shadowsinger. Since his earliest memories, he'd been forced to deny his instincts. He couldn't taste the wind, though he heard its song. He couldn't fight, though his bones felt the call.

Oh, he'd been given hope - barest temptations of it. An hour with mati. A glimpse of clear skies. An offer from his padron’s sons. Tantalising dust motes of hope so that he never slipped into catatonia in his first eleven years.

it got better better better better we found you made it better

Yes, it got better. Entering Windhaven was like being reborn. And he was just about as capable as a newborn. The shadows had brought him snippets of life from Above. They'd sung him his mati's songs. They told him about clouds and mountains and trees. But it wasn't until Aunty's brusque nurturing that Azriel had learnt how to Be. She'd given him so much hope, then eventually Cassian, and finally Rhys. Over the years and the centuries, he's collected more and more of it, storing it away, for the hope that someday he'll be free. He might even be happy.

But here he is again, in a dungeon.

Whether he's the tortured, or the torturer, these dark moments sap from that jar. They tap on the glass, venturing to crack through the vessel and Azriel would fear losing those fluttering wings that he had collected. In recent years, he'd become greedy, chasing more and more. He was not sorry. He couldn't regret feeding that jar, for hope was all he had. It was in pursuit of another modicum of hope that had landed him where he was now.

He had always been able to skirt the wards of the Forest House. Since the Battle of Hyburn,however, the wards had become thick and sticky as molasses. They were strong, yes, and tightly woven, but his shadows had inspected the barriers, and decided that they need not be of the same plane. It was disconcerting, the first time they took him through the Other. They could always travel in his plane, and through safer dimensions, just fine. This plane was different. This was somewhere unfamiliar. But the shadows discerned his burning need to cross these wards, and brought him through a plane unknown as their gift to him.

come with come through we show you we take you

Now it was as easy as holding his breath as he sank through his shadows. He still didn't like it. He'd rather stay on the planes that didn't give him an ominous feeling in his gut, but he needed to pass through these wards, so he passed through the wards.

Years of trial and error, searching through his shadows, honing his intuition, and a decent amount of espionage had given him almost perfect precision as stepped back into Prythian. He could pinpoint exactly where he wanted to re-enter the House. If it was after noon, he might venture to the study. At sundown he'd go to the library, or the sitting room. At midnight, the shadows took him directly to the foot of the bed, and there would be another butterfly that he could catch for his jar.

"Hello, shadowsinger."

Eris Vanserra. His Impossible, but oh, how it felt to hope.

At first, it was just to watch him. To see how Autumn ticked. His shadows had felt out the branches of power in Prythian's most hostile court. There were advisors, yes, lieutenants, commanders, academics too. As the shadows flowed along the webs of influence they always landed solidly on twin trunks rooted into the heart of Autumn. The trunk that was Beron Vanserra had begun to rot after his return from Under the Mountain. Those years had not been kind to him, not kind to anyone. There was a corruption that festered in him, drawing him away from rule and towards chaos. But growing from the detritus were vines that bolstered the other trunk, thickening, strengthening, until the Night Court spymaster knew that his focus should be on the Heir.

So he watched.

Night's intelligence on Autumn was second only to Autumn's itself. He knew the structure of the military, the roster of the guards, and who had a spat with whom. He could reasonably predict what the kitchens would be preparing, which servants worked what day, and how much excess was pilfered for the poor. He'd learnt which families were currying favours, which Houses were on the outs, and which nobles needed to be very very careful with the royal family.

He drank in anything he could know about Autumn, and he watched.

There were some things that he did not think were pertinent to include in his reports to Rhysand.

From the shadows, he noted the charming crease between the auburn brows as he read and wrote a flurry of letters. In the dark, he studied the elegant bend of pale, slender fingers as they cradled a glass of something smooth, something peaty. As the General drilled with his army and conferred with his Commanders, Azriel measured his lithe, lean, shirtless frame against the builds of his own race. It was nice.

Always hidden, he watched.

Hidden, until the night a second glass of fire whiskey was placed delicately on the bookshelf where Azriel was shrouded. Eris looked him directly in the eyes, then prowled towards one of two mismatched armchairs by the fireplace. The singer dispersed his shadows and took the glass, as well as the other chair. The low, narrow back allowed his wings a comfortable repose, though the velvet upholstery was far more decadent than anything he'd seen in the Night Court. This chair was custom made.

That first night, they spoke not a word. They watched the fire. They watched each other. The silence wasn't uncomfortable, in fact, Azriel had the feeling he was always meant to be there. They sipped at autumn's finest, and when the glasses were empty, the shadows carried him home.

Few words were said the next time he came to Autumn, but that didn't mean their mouths were unoccupied. The Heir was out late, flitting from one brother to the next. Always, the shadows followed, followed. Exhausted, he finally retired to his chambers. He grabbed fists full of his bright, luscious hair, heaved a sigh, then smoothed it back to perfection, as if he'd never lost his composure. Reaching directly into the shadows, cloaked under the orrery, he pulled the shadowsinger by the leathers, willing him corporeal.

"I've had a long day."

"I know."

The first touch of their lips was tentative, but that soon gave way to long, languid laps into each other. That second night, they did not touch the fire whiskey, but Azriel sipped from the lips of Autumn's Finest. The plush chaise was also low-backed.

The spymaster couldn't shadow Autumn as often as he'd like, but he appreciated each and every time, when he'd collect another morsel for his jar. It was slowly filling, but he kept the lid on tight. He'd peek into it, after his High Lord had put him to work under Hewn City, and find there was always something left. He cradled it as he watched his brothers' happy bonds, knowing that that happiness wouldn't be bestowed upon him. Though he was a monster, he could still have a flutter.

And so he collected. There was no hiding from Eris Vanserra, but the shadows continued to pull him through planes and mask his presence. Some days, he was content to watch. The Heir would continue with his work, but casually wove his fingers through an errant shade. Some nights, the only touch was a caress of long fingers through his umbra as the prince went straight from his duties to his bed.

One night - one beautiful night - the Heir had dozed off on Azriel's chest as they rested on the chaise. With a small, secret smile to himself, the shadowsinger set down his reports and carried the fae to his bed. As he turned to leave, Eris caught his wrist, and with a small voice, asked him to stay. So he stayed. He'd aimed to kiss his eyelids to sleep, but Eris's searching mouth found his. As their kisses heated, they knew they would not be sleeping for a while. A whisper of magic, and Eris was pressing a vial into Azriel's hand. It had been years, possibly a decade, since Azriel had been inside another male, but he'd never, ever remembered it feeling like this. Their hands and their mouths were hungry. Their eyes could not stop drinking in each other's gazes. No amount of contact was enough.

Eris had burst into flames when he came. And apologised. Sorry, sorry, sorry, he'd said. Your hands...

The flames didn't burn him. Somehow he'd known his Fireling couldn't hurt him. They did, however, send hot brushes of pleasure across his wings. He spread them wide and fanned them languidly through the flames. He was hard again inside the other male's tight heat. All he could think to reply was, I'm not. Eris smouldered like an ember as Azriel showed him how not sorry he was.

They spent many more nights in that bed. Sometimes they were writhing in the sheets until the dark horizon faded to pink. Sometimes the shadowsinger just held the bone-dead tired Autumn Lord as he recuperated for another day of courtly intrigue. The jar in his heart had become much, much bigger. It pressed against his ribs, and he could feel the flutters even when they were apart. As often as he could, though, he would fall through the Other to be with his Fireling. The shadows promised they were never too tired to see Autumn.

honest honest honest honest honest

One particularly harrowing instance, in the wee hours of the morning, the shadows found Eris bed-bound, swathed in blankets, cold as ice. His teeth chattered and he was shaking so violently, he couldn't speak. Azriel stripped down to his shorts and buried himself into the nest of covers. As soon as he touched the Fireling's skin, he sensed the residue of faebane. His shadows longed to soothe him, but shied away from the poison. Azriel had no such hesitance. He gathered the shivering form to his chest, pressing skin onto skin, and rubbed his hands along the chilled body until the tremors subsided. Although he detested what this fae's father had done to him, he was thankful that the shadows had brought him here to offer comfort and respite to the long-suffering male. He put that feeling in the jar instead.

For three days he stayed in the dark haunts of the Forest House, dismissing the talons in his mind with some pique. He'd had to answer for that, but it was worth Rhysand's anger to ensure that Eris recovered without further harm. For three more nights he warmed their bodies with his own, as the Fireling's magic slowly returned. The shadows were keen to touch his skin again, and as the last of the faebane dissipated, they cloaked him from head to toe. When the lord awoke and saw he was dark as midnight, he let out a laugh of undiluted mirth. It was the best sound Azriel had ever heard. They lay in bed all morning, talking softly and playing with the shadows. He returned to Velaris feeling lighter than ever, bolstered by the wings in his chest. He didn't even resent the dressing down his High Lord had given him, knowing that he'd made the choice for himself.

Rhys had put him straight back to work. The shadows slipped him through planes and Prythian, making up for lost time in pursuit of his Court's safety and security. On a mission to the Continent, his shadows betrayed him.

~

Eris

"We've apprehended a trespasser."

The Heir of Autumn had been summoned to the throne room by his father and High Lord. This in itself was not an uncommon occurrence, but the subject of this audience was new. Trespassers had not been heard of since Beron had bargained for Continental magic to bolster his power. The wards were crafted by a great sorcerer across the sea, and Beron's smugness as he cast them over the Forest House could turn a good fae to violence.

What Beron didn't know was that Eris had his own ally with inimitable powers. A confidant. A companion. A friend. A comfort without whom Eris might not have survived these past few years. His father had become more vicious and unpredictable as his borrowed magic infected his mind. It took all his cunning and persuasion to keep his mother safe, his Court running, his brothers out of The Pool. There were times when he considered giving up. It was hard, so hard, and one wrong move could spell disaster. He couldn't stand it if it was his fault. The burden on his shoulders was heavy, and his strength was not limitless. Every day he feared for his life. He feared exposure. He feared his failure. But when his thoughts darkened, so did the corners of the room. His watcher was with him. He was not alone. For his watcher, he would endure.

Beron didn't know. Beron couldn't know.

Could he?

They’d been so careful.

"I'm sure you'll get to the bottom of this, father. Your powers are unmatched."

Beron regarded him thoughtfully. "Yes, indeed." He rose laboriously from the throne and descended the dias. With a high, cold voice that belied his autumnal heat, he snapped, "Come, Eris."

The Heir's trepidation grew as he predicted their destination. What was the protocol? He couldn't slip up. He guarded too many secrets. Too many people relied on him to rein in his father. They descended under the holding cells, to the dungeon, too close to The Pool.

"It was a gift, actually. From our friend. You see, the trespasser was captured somewhere only our friend should be able to enter. And what do you suppose he found when he examined this interloper? Stains, Eris. Stains all over my Court. There is an intersection between his House and mine, to protect us. To protect Autumn. I made a great sacrifice in order to save us from the machinations of the young new Lords, and this vermin!" he spat the word. "This vermin has simply stepped around my wards. Into my House. Into my sanctum. Into my firstborn's bed!" His voice lowered to a venomous hiss. "Its contamination is all over you."

Eris watched his watcher wake.

~

Azriel

Continental magic felt foreign to Azriel senses, but he had always been the one fated to endure the most unpleasant situations. His skin itched beneath his leathers, and the shadows jittered, nervous in this alien environment. He swept soundlessly around the dark banks of the lake, testing the wards, tasting the air. He remained veiled in his shades, but it took an inordinate amount of coaxing to keep them in place. They clung like faelings to his ankles, hiding within him rather than hiding him.

The wards felt familiar. Sticky, fetid, thick, just like the ones around the Forest House. He really should wait for backup before he went anywhere too unknown. This mission was just reconnaissance. However, he felt that there were bigger answers, just a little further. As long as he stuck to the shadows, he'd make it.

Just a little further.

He pushed his shadows into the Other, as he'd done a hundred times before. They were abnormally discordant, some pushing with him, and others sinking under his skin, hiding beneath his wings. He sang softly, gently, persuading them to take just one more step. Some of the vacillating shades crept forward, but surprisingly few. Sweetening his song, he promised another visit with their fireheart, if they'd only complete this mission. Finally, eventually, he stepped into the Other.

He knew immediately that this was a bad idea. Instead of taking him back to the Continent, the shadows flew into a frenzy within the foreign plane. Some tried to pull him through, some pushed him forward. More sank into him, hiding, fearful.

we left we left we left don't want to go back singer hold us

One of the shadows, strong, sharp, and dark, yanked hard on Azriel. Smaller wisps, the hangers-on, echoed its chant.

daddy daddy daddy daddy daddy daddy daddy

They swirled around him and then Azriel was standing on an island.

Azriel was standing on an island in the middle of the lake.

There was a box.

Onyx.

The rogue shadows dove at it, rattling and needy. He commanded their return, but they tipped the box over.

An explosion of darkness engulfed the island.

who are you who are you how did you get here

There was a crack in the æther and a figure descended, impossibly tall and cloaked in roiling waves of black. He was shadow, the shadow of an apocalyptic sky, of the end of days. He was the Shadow of Death.

"So the prodigal son returns," croons Koschei. "Why are you still incomplete?"

~

Eris

Dread rooted Eris's feet to the floor. He was paralyzed, mute, frozen.

"It seems you are in need of another cleansing," snarled his father. "Soiling yourself with a filthy brute? Get in the water."

The drip drip drip of water from the blue stone stalactites into The Pool hammered into the Heir's eardrums, taunting, threatening. What would Beron do to his watcher if Eris doused his flame again? He'd only just recovered from the last time Beron stripped him of all magic and stole his fire. Memories of the strong, warm embrace cracked his heart. It would remain a memory of the past if Beron were to kill his... his... what? Companion? Lover? His Azriel. He would not get in the water.

His face stung as a bejewelled fist connected with his temple. Warm blood pooled in the gash and streaked down his cheek.

"Get in the water."

He stood firm and weathered a second blow. "No." And a third.

"You sully yourself with this filthy sodomite?" The High Lord drew an ornate dagger from his thigh and pressed the point into the throat of the shadowsinger. "Get in the water."

"Don't!"

"You were born to wield power over these lesser animals. You were born to strengthen the Autumn Court. I did not bring you into this world to be fucked by these lowborn beasts. You were born better." The tip of the dagger sunk into the hollow of Azriel's neck and drew a deep, red line down to his navel. It intersected several existing crimson scores, but Azriel's face remained set in stone. The fae who crossed paths had paths crossed on him. Beautiful. Terrifying. "Get in the water!"

Darkness spilled from the shadowsinger, spreading, reaching, yearning. A shadow caught around their fireheart's calf and twined up his leg. Two shadows. Five. Ten.

"You are a tyrant and you are the beast, father," Eris intoned with deadly calm. Flames burst from his hand and ignited his entire being. Twenty, fifty, a hundred shadows blended with the fire and flared, looming over his shoulders. "And I was born to riot!"

He shot a bolt of dark flame at his father, who shielded and roared in anger. "Taint! That magic is cursed! You dare attack your own father with black magic?" He pushed a wall of fire at his heir. "Purify yourself! GET IN THE WATER!" He spun back towards his captive and sunk the blade into his stomach.

Two hundred, four hundred, six hundred strong - the shadows cocooned their fireheart and hissed at the father. Not even the power of the High Lord of Autumn would pierce their shield.

The Heir whipped ropes of fire at his sire. Not yet ascended, his flames could not compete with that of the High Lord's, but Eris was the General of Autumn's armies. He had strength in more ways than one. With the grace of one who was practiced in the art of warfare, he drew his sword and called upon his little friends. The shadows landed him directly behind his father. Beron twisted and barely shielded as the sword came down. His feet were not where he thought they were. He over-balanced. Fell. Angry shadows swarmed over his arms, his legs, sniping with furore at the monster who carved up their singer and drowned their fire.

Eris pressed his boot onto his father's chest, sword tip pointed at his neck. Beron had not even freed his sword from his scabbard.

"You can't kill me, Eris. I am your father. I made you. I am your High Lord."

"You may have made me, father, but I made me better. He made me better. Your time is up. Your reign is over."

"Patricide, my boy, will steal your soul. How will you sleep at night?"

Eris appraised his father's face. This fae, this beast, held no regard for his soul. He hummed in contentment, satisfied with his decision. "Next to my mate," he declared, and pushed his sword through Beron's neck.

~

Azriel

Flames tore around the cavern, interspersed with flickers of shadows. The maelstrom was burning, roaring, screaming, but Azriel knew they couldn't harm him. The Pool boiled and steamed, vaporised within seconds. Blue stone turned to white ash, and his shackles melted to nothing. He collapsed against the wall, and watched in awe as the Power of Autumn entered his mate.

His mate. Of course he was.

The whirling heat abruptly collapsed into a single point, and at its centre, Eris opened his eyes of flame. A pulse of power rocked the foundations of the Forest House, rumbling through the Autumn Court, shaking the Land of Prythian. He turned to look at Azriel, and his Illyrian beheld the magic within his gaze. The fire, the shadow, the golden glow. Kneeling by his Azriel, the High Lord gently pulled the dagger free, pouring healing magic into the wound. Happy little shadows flowed back into their singer, relieved that he was free of the blue poison pain.

"I'm so sorry, Azriel," he whispered. "What he's done to you..."

He kissed the raw, bleeding wrists, sealing the wounds over with fresh, new skin. Azriel caught his mate's hands in his own. Their golden tether sung between them, nascent and precious, but growing, growing strong.

"It was worth it. It was all worth it. You were amazing." He huffed a laugh. "I'm not sorry for loving you."

~

On the Continent

The pulse of magic was felt far and wide. A flock of pure white swans took flight from their lake, but did not go far. They could not go far. The mournful wails of the ensorcelled firebird changed their tune.

Koschei looked to the west, where he sensed a House of Flames and Shadows sprout out of the Forest. His child, his son, finally, finally has come into his power. He will return. Soon, soon. And then Koschei can leave this fucking lake.

@acourtofladydeath @secret-third-thing @iftheshoef1tz @chunkypossum @mistandmemories @the-darkestminds @jules-writes-stories @astro-h0e-4azris @aurorasleeps-27 @packdontendwithblood @brunetterebel010 @buffy-vanserra @climbthemountain2020 @queercontrarian @g00seg1rl @greenvelvetcouture @fieldofdaisiies @a-novel-idealist @ysmtttty @jolenes-library @areyoudreaminof @molcat07 @mudandmire @hnyclover @catboyjamesbond @pippsmcgee @talibunny30 @fourteentrout @yanny-77

[jessjad]

Snow globe

Summary: A visit from Dean and Sam in the week around christmas is a nice surprise, but will it bring more than just presents?

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Reader

Word Count: 1770

Warnings: none. Just a tiny little fluff and something new.

A/N: Hello! 😊 This is my contribution to @spnfanficpond 's secret santa 2024. This is for @burntsecrets. I hope you like it. The picture is made by the lovely @thebiggerbear who tried to make sense of my ideas! All mistakes are mine! Enjoy!

My Masterlist

"Is it really okay for us to be here during christmas?" Sam asked with his typical puppy eye look.

Y/N had to grin. "Of course it is. Although I'm surprised you guys wanted to come here. I would've thought you would spent christmas at Jody's."

It's been five more days until the 24th and Y/N had already perpared for a plan B, herself not wanting to be alone over the holdiays. But Sam's call yesterday was a really nice surprise. So she had put up her christmas decorations and had bought a tree, which now glittered and shone in all its glory.

"Well... Jody has already a pretty full house." Dean said and scratched the back of his head a little nervously.

"Yeah, with the girls, you know? And Donna is gonna come over too." Sam explained further.

"And eventhough the bunker is big..." Dean started and Y/N new what he meant. 'The bunker is too big for two guys alone.'

"... we were just thinking you might want to have some company this year." Sam finished. "Since we haven't seen eachother in a while." he smiled.

But Y/N knew what that meant too. 'You are just as alone as we are.' And it was true. After what happened last year with Chuck and the world almost ending, Y/N had lost the last two people in her life. Her parents.

They knew about the life and everything that goes bump in the night. So, when everyone felt the end coming, a pack of vampires went rouge and their house was on their list. They called their daughter, but she came to late. And when she stepped foot into the house, Sam and Dean had already been there. That was the first time they had meet. Since then they stayed in close contact.

"Yeah! Yeah, I'm happy that you are here. Now, I can give back to you with providing some shelter and food." she winked.

Both the brothers laughed to that. Then she showed the brothers her place. Sam took the guest bedroom since he was the taller one. Dean was fine with sleeping on the pull out couch in the living room. Y/N had offered her own bedroom to the older Winchester, but he refused. But not without mentioning that he would sleep in there with her, but not alone.

To that, Y/N blushed a little. If he would only know that she was in love with him, he may have not said it. But Y/N had always loved the flirty side to Dean. Which was one of the things that had made her fall in love with him.

For the rest of the day all three stayed inside and catched up. Y/N cooked some chicken and roasted potatos for dinner while christmas music was running in the background. It felt strangely like home.

When Y/N came back from grocery shopping the next day, Dean was standing in the kitchen. Apron around his waist, bowls and ingredients out on the counter and he was fiddling with the kitchen machine. Somehow he had already flour in his hair and on gthe tip of his nose. It was to adorable.

"Crap... Dammit!" he grumbled while he pressed the screen.

“Is everything okay in here?” Y/N asked with a grin.

"What? No... shit, what kind of fucking devil's trap is this thing?"

"It's not a devil's trap, it's a Kenwood." Y/N said, coming over to Dean after putting her bags down.

"Well, whatever this thing is, sweetheart, it's not working."

"Yes it it, Dean. You just have to push here." and Y/N pointed at the right function.

"Where? Here?" and without waiting Dean just pushed again.

The mixing arm began to rotate at the highest level and pump all the flour out of the bowl into the air. Within seconds they were both enveloped in white mist and Dean now had gray hair. At first it was quiet, but then Y/N burst out laughing. Dean looked a little taken aback, but also had to grin.

"How is it that the man who invents and builds his own EMF detector... can't even use a kitchen machine?" she teased him.

“You really can’t compare the two, Y/N.”

"If you say so." the woman smiled and ruffled the flour from his hair.

Dean turned a little more towards her and waited for Y/N to finish. But when she lowered her arm again, her smile disappeared. It was only then that Y/N noticed how close they were to each other. So she looked down briefly and took a few steps back. Dean then cleared his throat slightly.

"You, um... put up quite a lot of decorations."

"Oh, yes." Y/N replied, secretly happy for the little distraction.

She took off her jacket and shoes as well, looked around briefly and then started putting away her purchases.

"Christmas was always important to my parents. Me too. We always celebrated it throughout December." Wistfulness crept into her eyes, but it didn't go unnoticed by Dean. "It's still important to me..."

"How can I argue with that?" answered Dean quietly.

"Not to mention. We've always been true believers." Now she had a mischievous smile on her face again and the melancholy had disappeared.

Dean chuckled. "I believe that straight away. With all the snow globes. Do you like those the best?"

He wiped his hands on his apron and came around the counter. His baking has long been forgotten.

"Yes and no. It's acutally a family tradition."

"How so?" now he was curious.

"My father had never been someone who expressed his feelings openly. And at some point my mother said that the two of them had had a big argument. They had only been together four months." She folded the last empty bag and put it aside.

"I don't remember exactly what it was about, but Mom probably told him that she still wasn't sure whether my father even loved her at all. She was missing a feeling of security. But even after the argument he probably still couldn't say it. Then they went on a break."

Now Dean came over to Y/N, who had just picked up one of the snow globes that was on the windowsill. They met halfway at the couch.

"Shortly afterwards it was her birthday and she still hadn't heard from dad. But when she came home there was a package at her door with this snow globe in it."

Dean took it in his hand and saw a dark red heart with 'I love you' written on it in white letters. Rainbow glitter floated around when you shook it.

"She didn't have to guess who the gift came from." Y/N grinned. "In the years that followed, he said it sometimes, but Mom still kept getting a snow globe and as long as that didn't stop, she knew that his feelings for her hadn't changed."

And unbeknownst to Y/N, her little trip down memory lane had given the man next to her an idea that he hoped would work.

Christmas Eve passed without any further incidents. Y/N had cooked a delicious meal that the two brothers praised over and over again. Y/N almost felt like they didn't get any real food otherwise. Dean had contributed the dessert by trying the baking again, but this time without the Kenwood.

They laughed a lot, listened to Christmas music loudly and filled the room with Christmas spirit. Late in the evening, after all the food had been eaten and the dishes had been cleared away, they sat on the couch and watched a Christmas movie. So they ended the evening comfortably before they all went to sleep.

When Y/N woke up the next morning, the smell of coffee filled her apartment. Curious, she got up and soon saw Sam standing in the kitchen, who had already prepared breakfast.

"Hey, good morning!" He greeted her cheerfully and came over to give her a quick hug.

Y/N was too happy to return the hug, but her eyes fell on the couch, which was empty. The bathroom door opened and Dean came over too. He also hugged Y/N in greeting and inside she didn't want to let him go.

They sat down at the table and had breakfast in peace. Afterwards they distributed their gifts. There weren't any special things, just little niceties, but Y/N was still incredibly happy that they had all thought of gifts. After all, it was only the thought that counted.

She was just throwing away the loose packing material when she saw Sam putting on his jacket and exchanging a look with Dean that only the two brothers knew how to interpret. She looked at the boys in surprise.

"You're leaving?"

"Yeah, well... I have to get a present for Jody and the girls. Dean and I are stopping by their place when we leave here the day after tomorrow."

"Oh, okay. But don't stay away too long. They've reported heavy snowfall later today."

"I won't." Sam replied and disappeared shortly afterwards.

Silence spread and in order to keep herself occupied, Y/N began to clear the table. This wasn't the first time she'd been alone with Dean, but it still felt somehow strange. After a moment, Dean cleared his throat, making Y/N turn to him. Her eyes widened in surprise when she saw that he was holding a small package in his hand.

"This... I just forgot to give this to you."

"What?" A little surprised, she took the gift but didn't do anything else.

"I really thought about how to do this for a long time. After all... I'm really not good at this sort of thing. But I couldn't wait any longer and I just hope... that my efforts aren't in vain."

And suddenly Y/N had an idea what was behind this gift. "Dean..."

"Come on. Open it."

And she did. With slightly shaking hands, she untied the bow and took off the lid. A snow globe appeared. Inside was a little sunflower that smiled. He really remembered that these were her favorite flowers. She looked up at Dean and felt her eyes getting watery.

"I like you, Y/N. I really like you. And I was so nervous to come over here. But I just had to try it and see if I read the signs right."

Y/N carefully placed the snow globe on the table and turned back to Dean.

"And if you like me back, which I really hope you do, then I'm yours."

And before Dean could say anything else, Y/N threw her arms around his neck and kissed him.

A/N: I wish you all a wonderful christmas time! 💜