#so happy about simon being a sugar glider

[alaritheaurora]

Chat I think I'm cooking

[witchexia]

🥼📋 Ψ 🦆 SIMON GLASS HEADCANONS pt. 2 🥼📋 Ψ 🦆

- His birthday is 14.7.1990 (34) - He gives his patients weighted plushies for comfort if they need it - Affection wise, he likes to use cute nicknames and likes to hug - His favorite game is Animal Crossing  - He LOVES aromatherapy - He NEVER yells at his patients or ANYONE. - Would probably be a fantastic babysitter - Mental breakdown? NO PROBLEM! Go to his office and you will come out happy! - He has a comforting aura that literally EVERYONE notices - Smell wise, he probably smells like laundry detergent and happiness - Being the HEAD of psychology at Site-17, poor boy probably has too much paperwork to do - He gives out stickers to his patients - His favorite flowers are daffodils, hydrangeas, lavenders, poppies + Himalayan blue poppies, chicories and the list goes on... - His favorite animals are otters, fennec foxes, owls, sugar gliders, raccoons, mallard ducks, capuchin monkeys, quokkas, marmots and more! - He wears cute socks, sometimes mismatched socks - His parents were mentally ill and he wanted to help them, so he studied to be a psychologist but his parents died so now he wants to help everyone - He knows ALOT of info on specific topics because of his patients telling him all about it

[razieltwelve]

One Last Delivery

Santa’s gaze swept over the crowd of elves. “You all know what I’m going to say, so I’m not going to mince words. This... this has not been a normal year, which means this isn’t going to be a normal Christmas.” He gestured, and a holographic projection of the world sprang up. “We’ve managed to make the rest of our deliveries, but we still have one last continent to go.”

A low murmur ran through the crowd.

“Yes, Australia. The last frontier. The final frontier. The deadliest frontier. Even during the best of years, it’s a dangerous run, but this year? I won’t lie. If you choose to come with me, there's a good chance you won't make it back. This year, we won’t be dealing with just the local wildlife... we’ll be dealing with the plague zombies too. Even so... who’s willing to go with me?”

A great cheer went up, and the crowd of elves pressed forward.

“Death before dishonour!” they cried. “Christmas for all!”

X    X    X

“Santa, we’ve got incoming.” 

Santa nodded at the elf keeping a close eye on the sleigh’s advanced sensors. “How many and how far?”

“At least a dozen contacts, maybe more, and they’re closing fast. Distance is one hundred kilometres, but at their present speed, we’ve got less than a minute.”

“At that speed and at this altitude...” Santa’s expression was grim. “Sugar gliders.” He took a deep breath and then raised his voice. “Prepare for boarders! We have sugar gliders inbound. ETA less than a minute.”

All along the length of the sleigh train, elves readied themselves. Lesser elves might have quailed at the thought of facing Australian sugar gliders, but they were the elite. They had fought alongside Santa during the great Holiday Wars and the Polar Conflicts. They were not about to run in the face of some marsupials, even winged harbingers of death like the sugar gliders.

The elf at the sensors swallowed thickly. “Contact in five... four... three... two... one... contact!”

The first of the sugar gliders swooped in, little more than a streak of motion as the sleigh train’s flak cannons turned the sky around them into a sea of shrapnel. The first few sugar gliders to get caught in the maelstrom went down, but the others scattered, their shock-absorbing fur allowing them to weather the storm as they closed in.

“For the North Pole!” an elf screamed. “Death to the enemies of Christmas!”

The first sugar glider reached the sleigh train and slammed straight into one of the elves. The elf went down screaming, his assault rifle barking a mad, angry cry as the sugar glider put its teeth and claws to work.

“No!” another elf wailed. “They got Billy!”

More sugar gliders closed in, weaving their way through the clouds of devastation unleashed by the flak cannons. The elves opened fire with their rifles, the staccato of their gunfire punctuated by the deep, bass boom of detonating shells. 

“We need reinforcements!” an elf cried. “We’re being overrun!”

“The second sleigh is about to go down!” another shouted. “We can’t hold them! There’s too many of them!”

Santa heard all of the pleas for help. His eyes narrowed, and he reached for the sack slung across his back. He turned to one of the elves beside him. “Take the reins,” he ordered.

“But Santa -”

“Take. The. Reins.”

X    X     X

Santa’s magical sack was designed to carry an essentially infinite amount of stuff without ever being too heavy for him to carry. What people didn’t know was that it could also be used as a weapon. By allowing it to exert its full weight at the moment of impact, Santa could turn it into a club with effectively infinite mass.

The first sugar glider never knew what hit it.

“Santa!” One of the downed elves scrambled to his feet. “You’re here!”

“Of course, I am.” Santa handed the elf his rifle. “Now, follow me. We’ll deal with these marsupials.”

As they made their way down the sleigh train, Santa continued to club and pummel sugar gliders with his magical sack. Marsupial after marsupial fell before his righteous fury, and the elves rallied to him, bringing down more of the deadly fliers with barrages of withering gunfire.

“We’re clear,” an elf said. “We’ve searched the rest of the sleigh train. There aren’t anymore sugar gliders.”

A cheer went up, but Santa held up one hand. “Don’t celebrate too early. We’re going to have to descend to make our delivers in the cities, and you know what that means.” His eyes narrowed ominously. “Koalas.”

X    X     X

Santa looked over the burning ruins of Sydney in horror. Koalas wouldn’t have done this. No. Not even those evil marsupials weren’t crazy enough to burn entire cities down. It had to be someone else, and the culprits soon revealed themselves.

Running through the burning city were crazed plague zombies. The Infected shrieked as they lurched after their prey, devouring innocent passersby and laying siege to the few remaining sanctuaries of the Uninfected. A wave of pure, unadulterated fury ran through Santa.

“They’re ruining Christmas.” His jaw clenched. “Land the sleigh,” he ordered.

“But Santa...”

“Land the sleigh and prepare for combat. We’re going to save Christmas... one way or the other.”

X    X     X

Simon had once been a simple office worker. The outbreak of the Plague had changed all of that. Screw office work. The only thing that mattered now was staying one step ahead of the Infected. Alas, his hopes of living to see another day looked to be going the way of the dodo. He was cut off and surrounded by Infected. Gulping, he raised his cricket bat. If he was going to die, he’d at least try to hit a few of them for six before he -

“Merry Christmas!” A towering figure landed in front of him and then swept the horde of Infected aside with a single, brutal swing of a very large and apparently incredibly heavy sack. 

“Santa...?” Simon stuttered. For who else could it be in those clothes and with that hat?

“Yes. And You’re Simon Smith. You’ve been a very good boy this year.” Santa’s grin was toothy. “Would you like a present?”

Simon nodded.

“Here.” Santa handed him a shotgun and enough ammunition to take on a small army. “How would you like to do your good deed for the day?”

Simon took the shotgun and started loading it. “Please tell me we’re going to be killing the Infected.”

“Damn straight.” Santa pointed. “And we’re not alone. We’ve got air support.”

Above was a sleigh full of elves with assault rifles.

Simon grinned. “Merry Christmas, Santa.”

Santa hefted his sack over his shoulder with one hand and readied a revolver in his other hand. “Let’s go say hello to all the bad boys and girls.”

X    X     X

Santa crushed another group of Infected beneath his magical sack and then shot another out of the air with his revolver as it leapt toward him. A flash of movement in the corner of his eye caught his attention, and he turned, ready to fire again.

It was a koala.

But instead of leaping at him, the marsupial simply leapt past him and took down one of the Infected in a shower of blood and gore. Dropping the mangled body, the koala tilted its head to one side.

“So... you don’t like them either.” Santa looked past the koala. There were dozens more behind it... an entire army of koalas. “How do you feel about a truce until they’re dealt with?”

The koala said nothing, but it gave a sharp, curt nod and then raised its claws high over its head. At that signal, the other koalas surged into the open, hurling themselves into the oncoming Infected.

“Damn...” Simon wiped some sweat off his brow. The man had been joined by hundreds more men and women, all of them using their presents to lay into the Infected. “Now we’ve got koalas on our side? What is the world coming too?”

“Strange times make for strange allies,” Santa replied. He took a deep breath. “Come on. The fight isn’t over yet!”

X    X     X

There are times when Santa brings cheer to the world via smiles and presents. There are also times when Santa has to personally beat the absolute crap out of sorrow and despair using his magical sack and whatever weaponry he has on hand up to, and including, firearms, explosives, and an entire sleigh train’s worth of angry, homicidal elves.

X    X     X

Author’s Notes

Merry Christmas. May Santa pummel your sorrows and bring you whatever weapons you need to seize happiness... one way or the other.