#the secret gifts of christmas

[violentdelightsproductions]

🎀 Viktor x Ruby 🎀

[Frankenwolf, the Hallmark edition]

Merry Christmas from the doctor and his wolf ♥ May the next year be full of red dresses, couple adventures... and lots of love!

I just couldn't resist, Meghan Ory's new Hallmark movie has too many Red Riding Hood looks not to make a Christmas aesthetic ♥

[meelusinee]

YOUR SECRET SANTA 𖤐 S.B X READER

in which your sirius’ secret santa for the year (and you also have a hugemungus introvert crush on him)

pairing: sirius black x potter!reader tags: christmas fluff! word count: 3k warnings: just fluff, yet again

author's note: AN UPDATE: I FIXED THE WHOLE COPY ISSUE IM SO SORRY YAWL my tumblr copied it twice and really weirdly for some reason??? anyways, i have very quickly learned that sirius’ energy is very hard to capture at 3-5am in the morning after studying for psych finals BUT oh my gawd i could not not post this. so just imagine that your like the fire to melt sirius’ sugary heart and that he’s super soft and sweet with you okay

SECRET SANTA | S.B X READER

You haven’t had this much fun in a long time.

It had been a long day for you, full of studying and reading up on topics for exams. You had tutoring lessons to get to tomorrow, along with three extra classes to get to.

Studying, however, was apparently not allowed. At least, that’s what Lily must’ve thought as she dragged you to the Gryffindor Common Room with her. Her friends were sitting around the fireplace, Marlene practically laid on Dorcas’ lap like a cat. Mary was sick, currently locked up in her room.

Remus sat closest to the fireplace in a single arm chair, reading a rather large tome. You sighed internally, the sight of the book reminding you of the studies you should be committing yourself to right now. James and Sirius were sitting on the largest sofa near the couch, Peter spread out on the floor with his hands crossed on his stomach.

“Bambi!” James called out, standing up dramatically to pull you in a hug. “Oh, I’ve missed you! You’ve been locked up forever, you know? Your studies have kidnapped you.”

“Oh hush,�� you chuckled, a small squeaking sound escaping your throat as he pulled you to sit down between him and Sirius.

“Hi Sirius,” you smiled softly as he wrapped his arm around your shoulders, leaning your head on his shoulder. He was always rather warm, no matter what the conditions were.

“Hi there, faon.” he whispered. Lily always liked to point out that he calmed down significantly around you, especially in the recent years.

“So,” Lily said ominously, standing on one of the coffee tables with a wide smirk. She had really been shining recently, through her friends and her studies. “We’re going to do Secret Santa this year!” 

“Secret Santa?” Sirius asked confusedly, tilting his head to the side slightly. “What’s that?”

“You put your names in a bucket, kind of like the TriWizard Tournament,” Remus began to explain to them, closing his book after bookmarking it. “Everyone picks a name, and you have to get a present for the person.” 

“So it’s randomized?” Marlene asked Remus, smiling brightly at that. “If I get James, I’m giving him a stink bomb!”

“No you won’t!” James said dramatically, clutching his chest. “That’s so wrong of you!”

“Hush, everyone.” Lily said, pulling out a metal bucket. “Now put your names in here.”

You chuckled quietly at her directness, watching as everyone else grabbed a small ticket and wrote their names down. Sirius grabbed you a ticket and pen, letting you write your name down before he put it in the bin for you.

Lily hummed softly once everyone put their names in, shaking the bucket before putting it down on the table. “Now, you have to remember,” she said to them, wagging her finger. “You can’t say who you got. That’s what makes it a secret.”

“So no tattle-tailing?” Peter said, a small pout in his voice as he sat up to pick a name. “Aw man.” 

“It’s fine, Pete.” James smiled, ruffling his hair.

You looked around the room as everyone made a small yet somewhat line to get their names. Sirius grabbed you a name along with his, holding his name away from your vision with a small smirk.

“You’re ridiculous.” you chuckled, opening your name. It was a fancy cursive you almost couldn’t read, the S extremely dramatic. Sirius Black.

“Do we have to get something specific?” you asked curiously, closing the small slip before James could look over your shoulder. “Like something comfortable, or something school related?”

“Nothing specific, just whatever would suit them best.” Lily said, closing her flap as she sat down next to James. 

You nodded at that, looking down at the flap. You really needed to brainstorm.

It had been a couple of days since you had gotten Sirius’ name in the Secret Santa bin, your mind running haywire with gift ideas. You had tried to study for your final exams, but you haven’t truly been able to focus on it at all.

So you tried to examine what to get him instead.

Sirius Black, while practically estranged from his family, still had access to a bunch of money. He had steadily built himself a fund of galleons over the years ever since he was in Third Year, opening a small bank account in Gringotts in order to save himself money. Which meant that he didn’t need anything material.

You knew that he loved the color red. He loved messy, though he also loved fancy and neat. Whatever it was that you were going to get him, it was going to be something custom.

Lily had invited you shopping with her, both of you heading to the Hogsmeade shops for present ideas. Snow was falling on the both of you, scarves wrapped around your necks and mouths.

“Who’d you get?” she asked curiously.

You looked at her confusedly, eyebrows furrowing at her question. “I thought you weren’t meant to tell.” you muttered to her.

“Well, if you have me, probably not.” she shrugged, smirking softly. “But I won’t tell anyone if you don’t.”

You nodded before looking down at the floor, still not sure what to even get. “I got Sirius.”

Lily gasped, jumping up and down excitedly. “I got James! Maybe we can get them something to match, I bet they’d love that.”

You nodded slowly at that, looking through the closest shop windows.

It was a cute charm shop, currently filled with Christmas themed things. There was different kinds of candies, candy canes and peppermints displayed at the center.

“Do you see that?” you asked, pointing at the window. “Those charms are cute.”

Lily looked over at what you were looking at. The window had a small poster on one of the panels, promoting an animal charm with star charms stamped out of the metal. “We could get a deer and a dog charm!”

You smiled softly at the idea, both of you walking inside of the store. Lily walked around the store excitedly, picking up all sorts of trinkets and small gifts for Secret Santa and regular Christmas presents. You were looking at the charms still, the gears in your mind turning.

The dog charm would be custom made, potentially gold if you were lucky. You could most likely get a roll of wrapping paper to match it. A small present wrapped with a red bow and peppermint, all with a small charm attached to it.

The idea was custom, something that was cute and made just for Sirius. A cute wrapping that fed into his Gryffindor ego, and something one couldn’t exactly buy at a store.

And that thought got you thinking.

You began walking around the store, looking at gift ideas for Sirius. At first, nothing was sticking out. That was until you stumbled on the journal section. 

They were regular journals, though you quickly figured that you could decorate it. You bought a new pen as well, along with small lace rolls and small sheets of paper to decorate it.

You also bought a small box to wrap it in when you were done, meeting up with Lily outside. She had about three big bags, contrasting heavily with your single small bag.

“What’d you get?” she asked excitedly.

You smiled softly, feeling the Christmas spirit absolutely radiating off of her. “You’ll see.”

You were sitting in your dorm room with Mary, who was still sick from a flu that she had gotten. She was sitting a bit away from you, but you decided to let her watch you make your present for Sirius.

“Thanks for letting me watch.” Mary whispered, her voice hoarse from the flu. “Really, Y/N.”

“You’re welcome.” you smiled softly, your pen nib rubbing against the paper as words formed on the pages. You had been obsessively writing in the journal for days at this point, rewriting letters you had secretly written for him down from memory. 

When you first met Sirius, you were in your First Year while he was in his Second Year. You went on the train along with James, sitting down in the corner of the compartment. 

The memory is still vivid in your mind, the way he sat down next to you and asked about the book you were reading. He was probably trying to impress you was what James and Remus had told you, he wanted to make a good impression on someone so close to James after all. But you still enjoyed it. And he stayed quiet and calm with you, even to this day. 

You remember your first birthday with him, how he got you your favorite author’s novels all hand signed. He had said that the present was a casual present for him to get, but you had been moved to tears almost instantly. You remember his first birthday with you as well, his only request being that he was able to hang out with his friends. He didn’t want any presents that year, the only gift he got being a sweater that your mother made for him.

Suffice to say, you had a lot of memories with him. And you liked to journal them all, a mix between day to day entries, memoir-like posts, or poems. Some were embarrassing, sure, but you planned on putting them in anyways.

“Who’s the journal for anyways?” Mary asked curiously, leaning forward.

“It’s for Sirius.” you whispered quietly, somewhat wishing that you didn’t have to say it. God forbid that she say that the journal was a bad idea, especially when you were already halfway through.

“Sirius?” she asked. “You actually got a gift idea?”

“What do you mean?” you asked.

Mary chuckled, but that quickly turned into a coughing fit. “I tried to get him a good present for his birthday last year, but nothing worked.” she explained, taking a sip of water. “I mean, what do you give a man who has everything?”

“Uh,” you mumbled, looking down at your lap. “Something of yours that he wouldn’t have?”

“Like a whole journal’s worth of handwriting samples?” she joked, smiling tiredly.

You chuckled softly at that, gently nudging her with your elbow as you continued to write in the journal. You were somewhat near the end, about one fourth of it left to go.

“It’s time to give out the presents!” Lily said, ringing a small bell in her hands as everyone gathered around the fireplace.

You were standing by Remus in the back, both of you holding cups of hot chocolate in your hands.

“Who’d you get?” he asked curiously.

“I got Sirius.” you mumbled, taking a sip of the hot chocolate before pointing to your present underneath the tree. “The one with the red bow and peppermint. Who did you get?”

“Lily.” he nodded, taking a sip of his own drink. “She’s been wanting to check out this one author, but his books are pricey. So I bought her a small starter set of his books.”

“That’s a good present.” you whispered softly.

Remus nodded, chuckling softly. “I also got her a book on Quidditch I told her to hide, that way she could impress James. Could you imagine the expression on his face when she starts talking about Quidditch?”

“Oh, it’d be priceless.” you chuckled, already imagining the expression on his face. 

“I know.” he chuckled, turning to you with a curious expression. “What’d you get Sirius?”

“Me?” you asked, clearing your throat. “I got him a journal.” you said awkwardly.

He nodded, not pushing any further. The bell rang again, Lily’s voice calling out to you both a bit impatiently. “Get over here you two!”

Remus chuckled softly as he sat by the fireplace, you taking your spot next to Sirius. Your head found its way to his shoulder as the presents magically sorted themselves, yours landing neatly right in front of you.

It was a stack of boxes that had an ornate wrapping with a pure silk ribbon of your favorite color, a small chocolate hanging off the bow.

You could tell immediately that it was Sirius’ gift.

“Sirius.” you chuckled softly, your hands pausing as they moved to unwrap the presents. You didn’t want to mess it up, especially since it looked so expensive. No doubt he spent hours on it. 

“You can open it anytime you want.” he chuckled softly at you, hand resting behind you as he leaned back just a bit. “I don’t mind if you rip it.”

“Are you sure?” you asked, looking over at him confusedly. “It looks so, like, effort-y.”

“Effort-y?” he chuckled, barking out a laugh.

“Like you put in effort!” you said, giggling softly at his teasing as your hands eventually moved to the bow. “This silk is so soft.”

“It is.” he said, a small smile resting on his face.

You opened the box at the top first. It was a vintage necklace wrapped in a heart-shaped box, a small flower detail painted on it.

“This is,” you whispered, looking at him as you held it in his hands. It was pure metal, you already knew, most likely costing hundreds of Galleons. “Sirius, this is so pretty.”

“It reminded me of you.” Sirius whispered, holding out his hands so he could put it on you. “A lot of things do, to be fair.”

You chuckled wetly at that, sniffling as you pulled your hair up so he could clasp it around your neck. You felt like you were the only two people in the room, everything fading out in the background.

“You have two more to open.” he whispered, putting your hair back in place.

“Okay.” you whispered, opening the first one. It was copies of novels you had mentioned over the past year, some of them you mentioned over six months ago. “Sirius,”

“I felt you’d still want to read them.” he smiled softly, hand caressing your back. “I had Mary tell me if you had them in your room, used cough drops as a bribery.”

“Using a woman’s sickness to your advantage in Secret Santa?” you asked him with a small smile.

He winked at you, putting the last box in front of your lap. It was arguably rather large. “Open it.”

Your hands tore into this one, a gasp escaping your mouth as you saw it. It was a sweater, obviously hand-knit. “Sirius, where did you buy this?”

“Made.” he whispered, chuckling at the shock on your face. “I took small classes with your mom, she helped me make it for you. I’m surprised she didn’t tell you, honestly.”

“You,” you whispered, looking at him incredulously as you felt tears come to your eyes. “You are absolutely ridiculous, you know that?”

“Only for you.” he winked dramatically, looking down at the box in front of him. “Now, I assume that this is from you, right?”

“Uh,” you whispered, nodding. “Yeah, it is.”

He smiled brightly, opening the present carefully before gasping. “A journal?”

“It’s something that a man who has everything wouldn’t have.” you whispered anxiously, fidgeting with your nail beds.

Sirius’ eyes darted over the journal, opening it to look at the different pages. His eyes widened and his mouth dropped slightly, small tears coming to his eyes as he read the introduction.

“Do you like it?” you asked anxiously.

“Y/N, this is,” he whispered, a wet laugh escaping his throat. “The best present I’ve ever gotten.”

You sighed softly at that, smiling as he closed the journal and looked up at you. You squeaked softly as he pulled you into a hug, wrapping your arms back around him.

“Godric, I love you.” he whispered.

“Y/N!” 

You turned around to find Sirius walking up to you, the rain outside becoming background noise the closer that he came to you.

“Sirius?” you asked, pulling your jacket further around yourself. It was cold in the library.

“I love you.”

Those words both broke and caused a silence you weren’t sure if you liked or not. He loved you? What did that even mean? Was it platonic or romantic? Who randomly walks up to someone proclaiming their love, in a library near closing? 

Sirius, apparently.

“You what?” you asked confusedly.

“I love you.” he said, walking forward and taking your hands in his. “I mean, like, romantically. I read your journal twice now. And I can’t just not tell you anymore, you mean too much to hide it.”

“You love me?” you asked incredulously.

Sirius nodded softly, squeezing your hand anxiously as he looked up at you. “Do you?”

“Do I?” you asked him.

“Love me back?” he asked. 

You looked at him incredulously, as if the idea was almost impossible. In a sense, it really was. How could you not love him?

“I do.” you whispered. You giggled quietly at his sigh of relief, a sound of surprise coming out of your throat as his lips met yours. They molded together perfectly, like two magnets made just to connect to one another.

You smiled softly, watching him run off with an excited smile before coming back. But then he did it again, running joyful laps around the library to get his excitement out. 

“Does this mean you’ll be my wife?” he asked.

“Maybe not yet,” you chuckled at his dramatics. “But maybe we can start with dating.”

He smiled even brighter at that, continuing his laps before coming back for a kiss. You kissed him like you breathed, it came so easily to you. 

You two eventually broke apart, a large laugh escaping your mouth as he squeezed you into a hug that got tighter by the minute. You weren’t sure anything could hold tighter.

That was until you two got interrupted.

“Pads, what the fuck?” James asked, both of you turning around with small smiles and an embarrassed flush.

“I’ll see you later.” he whispered, giving you a soft peck before running out the opposite direction.

“You won’t be seeing shit tomorrow morning!” James yelled, running after him.

AUTHOR'S NOTE

PHEW this was a LONG ONE let me tell you BUT!!!!!!!! i got it out of my system, i can finally rest and go to bed and sleep and slumber, all of those glory dory things that people do

it's probably not the most realistic sirius depiction out there but i really like the idea of soft sirius okay guys >:( u can pry my boy out of my cold and dead hands when i DECEASE okay, i love soft sirius.

AS ALWAYS, please like, comment, and reblog! it means the absolute world to me yawl dont understand unless u do then u do but anyways HAVE A GOOD DAY LOVELIESSS

[magnificentmicrowave]

the fogs!

[thelibraryloser]

i hope you've all been good this year!

[zepskies]

'Twas the Night...

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Reader

Summary: Dean listens, sometimes when you least expect it. This year, Christmas begins to become something new for both of you.    

AN: Merry Christmas and Happy Holidays, everyone! This is my @spnfanficpond Secret Santa gift for @eldritchlibertine! The idea is based on this request from @whichwitchwanda (a story prompted from the header image).

Word Count: 2.4K

Tags/Warnings: Fluff and more fluff! Christmas feels. ❤️

A door burst open, and your eyes raised from the page. You nearly dropped your book into your lap when you saw it—the wide, bristled top of an evergreen tree trying to shove its way through the door of the bunker.

Or rather, it only seemed that way.

All the way up at the top of the rod iron staircase, grumbled cursing and muttering and arguing filtered down to you in the common room, where you were leaning back in your seat with an old copy of Wuthering Heights. You sat up, an incredulous smirk beginning to curve your lips.

“Dean, it’s not gonna fit.” That was Sam, obviously. You’d recognize his testy bitching anywhere.

“You kiddin’ me? All that work I spent sawing this thing outta the ground, I’m gonna damn well make it fit. Come on, put your big boy pants on.”

The equally familiar gruff, grousing tone of your man’s voice almost made you snort. You set down the book on the table and debated whether you were going to get up and try to help, or let them hash it out. You were surprised they hadn’t called out for you yet.

After a few more seconds of listening to their frustrated huffing and puffing, you shook your head and got up. You reached the top of the stairs, and their sounds of irritated, breathless struggle became even clearer.

“Dean,” Sam protested.

“Shut up. I’ve almost got it…”

“You’re gonna break the damn frame—”

“Something tells me you didn’t get this thing at Home Depot,” you remarked.

There was a pause, and Dean called your name questioningly. He also sounded a bit embarrassed.

“Yep, I’m here, Chevy Chase,” you said, laughing as you grabbed the branches that were stuck in the doorway. You bent them at the angle the guys needed to get the whole thing inside, and all too quickly you had to step out of the way as Sam and Dean broke through the doorway with the rest of the tree.

Sam caught himself on the wall, while Dean threw a hand out to grasp at the railing of the stairs. You grabbed Dean’s arm to help steady him. Once he had his feet planted, he slung an arm around your waist and looked down on you with a satisfied smile—one that he then aimed at Sam.

“See? Told you it would fit.”

“Where did you even get this thing?” you asked. You eyed Dean in curiosity, even as you were helping him stream the lights around this seven-foot monstrosity. You’d also taken great delight in putting on some holiday music. Now, Frank Sinatra’s “White Christmas” was playing from a Bluetooth speaker on the War Room table.

Dean shot you a distracted smile as he worked in concentration, bringing a string of lights around the part of the tree that was closest to the wall. He handed off the other end to you, and you wrapped the line of multicolored lights around.

“Eh, there’s a nice bit of forest a few miles out of town,” he said. Your brows raised high. You’d suspected, of course, but you still shook your head with a smile.  

“You know you need a permit for that, right?” you said.

“I tried to tell him,” said Sam. He was on his way up the stairs, heading out back to the car to get the box of ornaments he and Dean bought at Walmart this morning along with the pretty multicolored lights, all while you were still sleeping.

Dean rolled his eyes at his brother, but just kept focused on his task. Once he started something, he had to finish it, you noticed. And when he got into something, he was Mr. DIY, putting in his all. You liked watching the crunch between his brows, the set of his lips, the sureness of his hands while he mentally calculated what they were going to accomplish next.

Most of all, you liked the look of self-satisfaction when he was done, and happy with his finished product. It didn’t matter if he was tuning up the Impala, making a home-cooked meal for the three of you, or decorating a wild tree. That face was the same. 

“Illegally obtained tree aside,” you said, not bothering to temper your smile, “I thought you guys didn’t really celebrate Christmas. Or any holidays, for that matter.”

Dean gave you a small grin, though again, he seemed a little embarrassed. He freed one of his hands to scratch at the back of his head.

“Yeah, well…weren’t you the one who was talking about the Christmases you had growing up?” he said.

You blinked, your mouth gently falling open in surprise. That had been a couple weeks ago, when the first snow of December began to fall over Lebanon. Late that night, after settling into bed together, you’d turned towards him in his arms. Maybe it was the turn of the season making you nostalgic, but somehow the conversation drifted into you making a confession, about what you missed the most about your family.

Your parents had passed on, and your sister was distant. She had her own family and her own life, and she wanted to keep it far away from the things you hunted. You couldn’t blame her, even if the thought of her always pierced your heart.

Beyond than that, what you missed was the house where you grew up, small but cozy and lived in. You missed the smell of pine and cinnamon that filled the living room every day of December. You missed the nights you and your sister curled up by the fire late at night playing imaginary games, long after your parents’ had put you guys to bed. You missed your mother’s cooking, and helping her bake molasses cookies on Christmas Eve.

You missed togetherness, the feeling of warmth and safety.

You tilted your head at Dean.

“Yeah, but…” you trailed, not willing to finish the thought as another suspicion grew in your mind.

“Just thought we could do some of that this year for you, that’s all,” he said. And he shrugged, as if it wasn’t a big deal. His hands were busy untangling some lights. “Matter of fact, we could all use the time off.”

You couldn’t help but pause. Your breathing shallowed, and no matter how much you fought it, tears stung in your eyes. You bit your lip to try and hold it all at bay. When Dean glanced up at you, he had to do a double take. It made you smile, despite your slightly blurring vision.

“Hey, what—”

You dropped your end of the lights and went to him. You raised up on your toes so you could wrap your arms around his neck in a warm hug. Dean uttered a surprised huff, but his arms came around your waist and gathered you closer. He soon realized he was still holding onto the tangle of lights, and he hung them on a nearby tree branch for now. His smile overtook his surprise and crinkled the corners of his eyes.

“I love you. You know that right?” Your voice was muffled in his neck, but he heard you well enough. He chuckled and slipped a soothing hand up and down your back.

“I do know, actually,” he said, his voice warm and teasing.

A giggle escaped you. You tugged on his short hair in retaliation, making him chuckle.

“Hey,” he warned, but it had heat of a different kind. His hand began venturing down to your ass, but before he could do some retaliating of his own, a door swung open and Sam came down the stairs hefting a couple different boxes of ornaments.

He raised a brow, though he smiled at the way you and his brother were entwined. You half pulled away to nod at Sam, sniffling at quickly wiping at your face. Dean dried some of the wetness from the corner of your eye with a curled finger. You glanced up at him and couldn’t help blushing, smiling, despite your embarrassment.

Dean still had an arm wrapped around your waist as you peered over at the boxes Sam set down near the tree. One of them caught your attention and made your eyes widen.

“Oh my God. They’re Scooby Doo themed!”

The rest of the afternoon was spent decorating the tree with Frank Sinatra and Bing Crosby echoing throughout the common room. After you made a trip to the grocery store, soon the smell of cinnamon, brown sugar and rich molasses joined the scent of pine throughout the entire bunker.

It was a Christmas Eve well spent. The night was filled with a rewatch marathon of Home Alone and Christmas Vacation. You agreed to Dean throwing in Elf into the mix, as long as you got to watch Love Actually,and The Holiday with Jude Law. Dean complained more than Sam about your girly chick-flicks, but he became just as invested in Colin Firth pouring his heart out in mangled Portuguese to Aurelia as you were, if less teary-eyed.

When The Holiday came around though, he was half asleep as he laid sprawled across your lap and the couch. Your nails gently massaging his scalp nearly did him in, along with Sam’s heavy-ass pour of eggnog. It was tradition, at this point.

By the end of the movie marathon, you were the one snoozing from your corner of the couch, your hand still in Dean’s hair.

He carried you to bed that night, your eyelids heavy as you teetered back and forth between slumber and the waking world. At least you were already in your pajamas. All he had to do was tuck you under the sheets on your side of the bed, then slip in behind you afterwards.

His arm draped around your waist, and you curled towards him, half on instinct as you let out a deep breath. Dean smiled as you settled against his chest. Your soft snores soon greeted his ears. Only then did he let himself rest…

Just not for long.

You woke earlier than you planned to in the morning, mainly because your man pillow was no longer beside you. You reached out a hand and found Dean’s side of the bed empty and cold, the covers pulled back. With a frown, you opened bleary eyes and checked your phone. It was around the ungodly hour of 5:30 a.m.

What the hell was Dean doing up at the crack of dawn?

Unless… You paused as your memory served you a grim reminder. Unless he’d had a rough night, kept up by memories and dreams he didn’t always want to talk to you about. It wouldn’t be the first time he came back to bed after a few hours with the heady smell of bourbon on him.

You got up with a sigh, rolling your neck as you did so. You just wanted to check on him. Maybe you could even persuade him to come back to bed.

You threw on a sweater over your pajamas and some fluffy slippers Sam bought you for your birthday���all to shield you from the bunker’s chilly air and ice-cold floors. You’d have to remind Dean to check on the heater.

You padded out of the bedroom and down the long hall…and became distracted by the Christmas tree in the common room. It really was beautiful all lit up. The lights softly flashed in green, red, purple, and gold. Traditional red and gold ornaments hung beside the Scooby Doo themed ones, with Fred and Daphne front and center, along with the rest of the gang scattered throughout.

And then you found Dean.

“Damn it…friggin’ piece of shit ribbon…” 

Dean’s muttering drew your attention to his hunched figure kneeling at the base of the tree. Your head tilted in wonder as your face broke out into a smile. What the hell is he doing? You tried to be light on your feet as you approached him from behind. Peering over his shoulder, you could almost see what he was trying do with some shiny red wrapping paper and a big golden bow.

Your heart swelled. Had he really gotten you and Sam something for Christmas too? He didn’t need to get you anything…

Dean’s hunter reflexes must’ve been tingling though, because suddenly he sat up straighter and looked over his shoulder. His eyes widened when he saw you standing there in your pajamas, arms crossed over your robe.

He actually jolted, muttering a curse as he tried to cover up what he was doing.

“What’cha doin’, babe?” you asked. Your eyes gleamed with amusement.

Dean tried to get up, but his foot slipped on a stray ribbon. He careened back onto his ass and knocked into the tree. Not only did its branches poke into his face and arm, making him wince, but he managed to displace a couple of ornaments, sending them tumbling to the floor by his hand. He grunted and raised up onto his forearms. For the pièce de résistance, that lovely golden bow landed right in his lap.

With raised brows, you took in the sight of your man—all bedraggled and looking sheepish (and adorable) as hell. Your hand went up to cover your mouth, but you were unable to quiet the giggle that bubbled up and escaped your lips.

Dean cleared his throat. “Hey.”

You glanced down at the bow, almost perfectly placed in his lap.

“Hey,” you replied, your lips curving into a smile.

You lowered down to kneel in front of him, and you took his face in your gentle hands before you leaned in for a sweet, sensuous kiss. Dean breathed into it. Your eyes shut along with his as you savored the moment, and him.

When you parted, your smile remained as you fingered the shiny edge of the bow. Dean began to smirk as well, despite how warm his face had gotten. His big hands found their way to your hips, welcoming you when you took a comfortable seat over his thighs.

You whispered against his lips, “I already know which present I’m gonna unwrap first.” 

AN: Lol there we go, a cheeky ending for you! Let me know if you liked this! ❤️💚

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[zu-is-here]

A gift for @inkz123 by your Secret Santa ♪( ´▽｀)

˚✧₊⁎Merry Christmas!⁎⁺˳✧༚

And a big thank you to @gyftmas2023 for hosting the event ╰(*´︶`*)╯♡

Ink by comyet

Error by loverofpiggies

[blackwolfstabs]

Parker's Secret Santa Gifts🎄for @alkivm

ONE NORMAL NIGHT

In the heart of winter and in the dead of night, you and Wednesday share the woods.

fandom: Wednesday (2022) pairing: Wedesnday Addams × Fem!Vampire!Reader a/n: this is my 1st × reader ever so i'm feeling very insecure about it.. however, i wanted to do something up your alley, Alk. i also wanted to write from Wednesday because i knew writing something of Sam would be too predictable of me haha. anyways, i hope you enjoy!!

You slid into the partially dark dorm room that held your girlfriend’s strong scent. For someone as dark and mysterious as Wednesday, you never expected her to have a smell that was actually calming. However, this made it easier for you to find her. Being a vampire allowed you the same nose the werewolves had. Maybe even better, in your opinion…

Speaking of werewolves, Enid’s side of the room was the dark side, for once. She must’ve been out with her girl pack. This led you to immediately find Wednesday seated at her desk with a lit lamp as the clicking of the typewriter keys echoed off the walls. Her writing time, you presumed with a small smirk and shake of your head. It was part of her nightly routine. 

But you were looking for a night where they could just be with each other. It had snowed all day, but with the dark that you both adored, came clear skies and moonlight that made the snow sparkle. Wednesday, of course, didn’t care for sparkly things, but you hadn’t seen anything more vintage in decades. And you wanted to share that with her.

You wanted one normal night.

She never stopped typing, her black eyes undivided, but there was something about the way her shoulders braced that told you that she knew you were there. So, you approached her, but before you could speak, she did.

“What is it, Y/N?” she asked flatly. “You know this is my—”

“Yes, yes, I know. This is your writing time,” you cut her off as you stopped behind her chair and leaned against it. “I was thinking… maybe we could take a walk through the woods? We’ve been shut indoors all day because of the snowfall, and the moon is rather beautiful tonight.” You heard her give a short huff, which encouraged you to follow up with, “Almost as beautiful as you…”

Wednesday scoffed as she felt you lean down and kiss her cheek. You had just been outside, on your way over, so your lips were cold against her warm skin. It made her pull away slightly, “Oh, please, your pick-up lines are aging on me.” But even she had her own jokes to turn around on you, and she glanced up to tease, “Almost as much as you.”

To be fair, you did not see that coming as you looked away in mock offense. “You've been waiting to spring that one on me, haven’t you?”

She shrugged and went back to her writing, “Not really. You just fell into the trap.”

“Sly psychic,” you rolled your eyes.

“Dumb vampire.”

God, the way she just threw back words in any situation that made her charisma grow had your vampire instincts tingling. It made you frisky and longing for a hunt. However, if Wednesday followed your lead, you could take the thirst just to have one night with her. “Please?” you hated to beg, yet here you were doing it for her. “Can’t you spare one day of cutting your writing time short?”

Your borderline-desperate tone made her give a small smirk, and that gave you a little bit of hope. You had other plans for that night anyway, so you would make sure she’d show her side of the duality you had gotten the pleasure to know.

“Let me finish this paragraph,” she eventually gave in. 

You let her do so without trouble, pacing around the room like a caged tiger while you waited. And then she stood up from her chair and turned around to catch you looking at her.

“You’ve got the patience of a saint.” The sarcasm was thick in her flat tone.

You just shrugged and nodded to the tunic-length jacket that was lying on her bed, “That should be warm enough for you.”

The raven gave you an uncertain look as she went to retrieve it and slip it on. “Sometimes, I think you forget that I’m not a vampire,” she commented, clearly not convinced one jacket would keep her warm in the snowy wilderness.

“Never,” you assured her. When she turned around and approached you with her dark eyes trying to figure out the million thoughts behind your glowing ones, you gave her a wink. “Don’t worry, love. I’ll keep you warm.” 

She didn’t look convinced. “I’m thrilled.” Then again, she never did.

You never took that personally from her. After all, she was the one to insinuate a relationship that was more than friends. She had even stolen the first kiss between you two. As uninterested as she tried to seem, you knew she was curious about what you had in mind. Otherwise, she wouldn’t have followed you out.

The bitter cold of the winter night suited you just fine as you stepped out of the heated indoors and shook your head out to relish the chilly freedom. You sighed in delight, before looking over your shoulder to see Wednesday pacing up next to you. 

She blinked unsteadily, the breeze stinging her eyes and cheeks as her bangs were swept aside. She crossed her arms and hugged them against her chest. “It had to be tonight?”

You rolled your eyes, “Oh, come on, Wednesday, it’s not that bad!” You gave her a playful nudge. “You just need to get that warm blood pumping,” you then teased, your breed leaving you immune to the freeze.

She just growled in annoyance, which made you decide to take the first step—well, more like the second step now… “So, try and keep up,” you told her, then raced away into the woods.

It must have caught her off-guard, because she immediately followed hot in pursuit. “Y/N!” It was like she hadn’t even thought about the fact that she was rushing into a game of Tag, like it was a mindless effort that sent her after you.

Her calls made you run faster, weaving through the trees like a trained dog in agility, and you let out a triumphant howl that sent the crows scattering into the night sky. In return, you actually got a few calls back from the werewolves scouting the forest as well. “Hey, Wednesday!” you hollered over your shoulder, “you think one of those is your roommate?!”

You could hear your girlfriend’s panting grow louder as she flanked you a few yards back. “No!” she answered, “Enid wouldn’t be caught dead in this kind of cold!”

“But you’d like that, wouldn’t you?!” Being an Addams gave you so much freedom to joke about death, considering you were already dead inside. It was meant to be.

“Not tonight, Y/N!”

You just laughed and raced on, filing deeper and farther into the world of forestry that almost shielded the moonlight. The wind seemed to be going 100 miles per hour against your skin, making a million scents bathe your tongue every time you breathed in. 

And then the scent of fur and fresh-kill caught your senses. You were gaining too close to the werewolves, so you figured this was a good place to stop.

Wednesday, on the other hand, didn’t have as keen a sense of smell, which kept her racing on. She couldn’t see you anymore, but she had done that dance before. The amount of times she’d run through this very forest was unimaginable, especially with a destination known or unknown in mind. She wasn’t afraid of running through the dark; however, the crisp cold air was taking a toll on her lungs. She called out for you, slowing down to catch her breath. “Y/N?!”

Compared to the way she’d sounded a few minutes ago, back at the dorm, she wasn’t so uptight about everything. And that was where you wanted her.

The raven slowed all the way, when she didn’t receive a response from you. She glanced around as she trotted forward. “Y/N?” Her panting was silenced among the breeze and so was your movement in the low branch of the nearest tree.

When she passed it, you grabbed her arm and pulled it towards the trunk. She yelped and spun around, yanking her arm away to look up and meet your golden eyes. “Sorry,” you giggled, releasing her to comb your wind-tossed hair back with one hand. 

Her voice went back to its natural, monotoned-self. “Why are you in a tree?”

“We’re too close to the werewolves,” you nearly whispered the explanation. Then, you held your hand out to her. “Come on, I’ll help you up.” 

The gold shimmer in your eyes struck the lightest reflection in hers as she took it and let you pull half of her weight up onto the same branch.

You knew she wasn’t the most comfortable person with heights without being guarded by some sort of railing, so you made sure she was steady before you continued to lead the way up. Being a vampire, your agility and strength were reliable. You could weave quicker through the limbs. And once you reached almost ¾-ths of the way up, you crouched to check on your girlfriend.

Despite her size and normal human strength, she actually kept up well, only being a few branches below. However, being the lady vampire you were, you had lived for a few centuries. So, chivalry was definitely not dead in your era, just evolved out of the strictly-male ideals. “Wednesday!” She paused her climbing to glance up at you, which made you hold your hand out to her again. “I got you.” The cold must have been biting at her because she grabbed your hand with no hesitation, and you lifted her up, wrapping one arm around her waist to safely bring her to your level. 

She wouldn’t admit it, but the raven was relieved that you had the decency to allow her to be closest to the tree trunk. She glanced down, almost nervously, but left it undetectable as she asked, “Is there any reason why you insist on being so high up?”

“No one can see us from up here.” 

She shifted skeptically. 

“I thought you liked being uncomfortable,” you smirked. You caught the way she curved her fingers into the bark, threatening to clutch it if the branch that held them teased a crack or two.

Wednesday gave a slightly flustered sigh. “The last time I was in a tree, things didn’t go so well.” When she looked your way again, the moon light dappling through the trees made her eyes show a shade of brown that wasn’t common in her natural aesthetic. 

It took some of the frost away from the cold that you didn’t realize you could feel until that deep gaze met yours. Her frame looked even smaller as she backed up to secure herself against the trunk, which you knew she did to brace herself in case anything happened. You softened your voice as you moved closer to her. “I won’t let you fall,” the words came so naturally, it was almost considered pure.

She blinked at you. “Don’t make promises you can’t keep, Y/N…” 

You stopped a short distance from her, close enough to see what she hoped you wouldn’t: her desire for comfort. You slid one hand around her waist and the other over her cheek to block the winter breeze. “Here’s my promise,” you whispered, then pulled her into a gentle kiss.

To your surprise, she fell into it instantly, almost as if she was thinking of the same thing. She must have felt secure in your arms, for she then put her arms around your torso. And through the kiss, you smiled. 

She pulled away. “Is that all you got?” she tested you, looking away and over your shoulder to bait you into moving elsewhere than her lips.

You took in a deep breath, and her scent was so strong that you could almost taste her… You felt your golden gaze start to burn and your mouth start to salivate. There was a surge of power that entwined your bloodstream, and the thrill to drink made you stare at her open neck. Well… almost open. “Are you teasing me, Ms. Addams?” you asked her as you dipped your head towards the crook of her neck and nosed her braid over her shoulder, fully exposing her warm skin. 

“Bite me, Y/LN,” she almost purred into your ear. It was supposed to be a tease, but it came out more as a command.

But it was your pleasure, regardless. “Not until we’re in bed, my cold-hearted darling,” you replied, then pressed your lips to her neck. It was hard not to bite her right now. Just a little taste of that sweet drink that came out of the most savage student in Nevermore Academy would have sufficed. But you wouldn’t. Not now. For now, you forced yourself to only kiss and suckle her skin in a slow trail down her neck, but you did manage to let your fangs nip her every now and then.

All the while, Wednesday laid her head on your shoulder, sighing through the treatment with small moans, while her black nails curled into your spine when your fangs would catch her soft skin. 

It was the perfect mix of Heaven and Hell.

It was angelic and demonic.

It was sweet and stubborn.

It was you and Wednesday…

On this one normal night.

merry christmas/happy holidays alk! i hope this made you smile and i'm wishing you a very pleasureable rest of the season. thank you for being such a supportive friend 🎄✨🎁

- parker (BWS)

[erinwantstowrite]

wait i really need clarification

is the christmas one shot itsy bitsy

yep! we're getting itsy bitsy peter content :3. though i will say it's not the itsy bitsy oneshot itself- that's a separate fic we're doing later

[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

[theshmeepking]

fujigoe friday give it up for fujigoe friday!!!

(for cagliostro central's secret santa)

[wolfchans]

ᴍᴇʀʀʏ ᴍɪɴʙɪɴᴄʜᴀɴᴍᴀꜱ 𝑎𝑑𝑣𝑒𝑛𝑡 𝑐𝑎𝑙𝑒𝑛𝑑𝑎𝑟 ⋆｡°✩ ⋆⁺｡˚⋆˙‧₊✩₊‧˙⋆˚｡⁺⋆ ✩°｡⋆ Day 24 of 25

[wolferetic]

Secret Santa for @vitensal!

[birbinky]

Did a little gift giving yesterday on the IM server, I was @/geareduptom 's secret santa and gave them these 2 drawings

These are probably the most time consuming drawings I've ever done this year, and I'm glad how they turn out. 🎁Happy Holidays everyone!! :D

[polling-sonic-fans]

Thanks for the poll anon!

Polls for the Sonic fandom on just about anything. Share polls you like to get more data. Asks and submissions always open.

[scarredlove]

BOO! I GOTCHU @ki-kosmo

Mr. Sandman from @venomous-qwille's Ghost in the Machine AU <3

Close-ups below:

[m0rb1dspade]

A Edel x Lys for Fire Emblem Secret Sothis!