#who knew that the wraith celebrated christmas

[carsonsweebabyturtles]

For some reason I already had the wraith in the Santa hat on my laptop. Who knows why. Anyways, a few cocktails later and it’s a really silly and terribly made Christmas thingy.

Merry Christmas guys. Hope it’s been a good one.

[thefandomsinhalor]

Title: What the Heart Misses

Author: thefandomsinhalor

Written for: @destielsecretsanta2020​ 

Fandom: Supernatural

Pairing: Castiel/ Dean Winchester

Word count: 5K

Rated G | No Archive Warnings Apply | Canon Divergent | Dean Winchester Loves Castiel | Gift Exchange | Sam Knows | S15E14 - Last Holiday | Fluff | Christmas | No Empty Deal |

Summary: 

After learning that the Winchesters and Jack celebrated Christmas with Mrs. Butters, Castiel takes the opportunity to give Dean a Christmas present. Which then prompts Dean to reflect on the nature of their bond.

Merry Christmas to @castielsbeeslippers​​  😊💜💙 (surprise!!) who wanted a fluffy fic with Cas and bees! I hope you like it!!

Read on AO3

----

“What the hell is this?”

“It’s a gift. For you.”

Dean, sipping on his morning coffee in the bunker’s kitchen, shot a suspicious glance at Castiel when his friend placed a flashy green box with a big red bow on it in front of him.

“Yeah, I got that, Cas. I mean, why are you giving me a present? It’s not Christmas or my birthday.”

“That’s true. But Jack mentioned that you celebrated the holiday the other day with Mrs. Butters. We were discussing the concept of Christmas and that got me thinking. I realized that I had never taken part in the tradition before. So, I thought of changing that even if I missed the celebration the other day.”

“That’s, um, nice.” And then, Dean immediately felt the need to add, “You didn’t have to do that.”

“And yet, I did,” he said calmly.

Unsure what to say, Dean simply nodded at him, and after gently putting down his cup, he began undoing the bow. He had to admit that he was partially curious to see what Castiel, of all people, could have possibly thought of giving him as a Christmas present.

Almost nervous about it, he was surprised, however, by the actual contents of the box.

Ties.

Three of them.

Made of soft woven silk.

And all three of them had bees depicted on them.

A golden yellow one, with honeycomb print at the bottom and a few bees near the top.

Another one that was a charcoal color, with tiny bees serving as pattern all over the tie. So small, in fact, they barely seemed like bees, which rendered the tie surprisingly classic-looking.

And one blue tie, with a few doodled bees on it.

Which was instantly Dean’s favourite.

Smiling at the corner of his mouth, after eyeing Castiel briefly, he picked up that last one to examine it closer.

It was far from being something he would have selected for himself. After all, flannel and jeans were more his style over suits to begin with, even less so the overly fashioned ties.

And yet, the fact that Castiel had apparently taken the time to choose these specifically for him could not do anything short of bringing a smile to his lips.

“Bees, huh?”

“I tried to find ones with patterns of pies, but I didn’t succeed. I thought—you don’t have to wear them if you feel they will clash with your suit. I simply wished to offer you an alternative.”

Keeping his eyes on the tie, Dean said, “I like them, Cas. Thank you. Can’t wait to try it on.”

And Dean had meant every word. Just over a week later, when he and Sam were sharing a quick lunch with Donna, while reviewing a possible case involving a wraith down in Rochester, Dean had made sure to tuck a napkin into his collar to not soil his blue tie with bees. Once he was done with his bacon cheese burger, which had been delicious, and wanted to study more properly the files Donna had brought them, he pushed his plate aside and freed himself of his napkin.

“Oooh, that’s a neat tie you got there, Dean,” said Donna.

Mildly grinning, he said, “I know.” He lifted his eyes from the document and added, “Cas gave it to me. I know it’s not super ‘professional-looking’ but I thought, what the hell? Why not?”

“He also kind of really likes it,” said Sam, harboring his most serious expression that Dean and everyone else knew was fake. “Like, really likes it. He wore it every day this week.”

Smirking, Donna nodded. “Gotcha.”

Suddenly feeling somewhat exposed, Dean cleared his throat. “I—so? What if I did?” Then, as he fixed his tie, he added, more to himself than to the others, “Nothing wrong with that.”

“Of course, there’s nothing wrong with that, Dean. I wasn’t suggesting there was. Quite the opposite, actually.” Seemingly about to elaborate further on his viewpoint, Sam then turned quiet and stabbed his salad with his fork, adopting a casual attitude.

Dean frowned at his brother. His patent change of behaviour hadn’t fooled him. It was clear that Sam had more to say on the subject and Dean was now curious to hear his opinion. He let the matter go, however, when Donna received a phone call informing her that another body had been found, thus prompting the trio to abruptly end their lunch and return to work.

He came back to the topic by the evening though. With the case closed and behind them, they warmly said goodbye to Donna, and soon after they hit the road to return to the bunker, Dean asked, “Why were you giving me crap about liking my tie?”

“I wasn’t. I’m honestly glad you’re enjoying it.”

“Good. Because I am. It was really thoughtful of him to do this.”

“No argument there. I don’t want to say I’m surprised, but…yeah, I really like the book he gave me too.”

“What?” Dean glanced at him, while also carefully keeping an eye on the road. “What do you mean? What book?”

“For Christmas,” said Sam as though it was the most obvious thing in the world.

“He—he gave you a present too?”

“Yeah. And Jack.” Sam observed him for a moment and then, assessing Dean’s mild confusion, he asked, “Why? What’s wrong?”

“Nothing.” His eyes back on the road, he fell silent for as long as he could, until he blurted out, “What kind of book? And what did he give Jack?”

“Um, he—he gave Jack a Star Wars movie collection. He’s been going through them again all week long in—”

“—in the Dean Cave,” said Dean, now understanding where the kid disappeared to in the evenings. “Good thing Mrs. B. fixed the TV.”

“Yeah.”

“And what was yours?”

“I got a book about the most notorious serial killers of the past decade.”

Dean blinked. “Wow. That’s—yeah. That’s…tell the truth: had you read it before?”

“No. It just came out a few weeks ago. And it’s really cool. I’m on the chapter about H. H. Holmes, and I gotta say, considering our insight about the guy, it’s riveting.”

Amused at his brother’s weird interest, Dean shook his head. And while he had other questions regarding Sam’s opinion on Castiel’s presents, his train of thought took a turn when something else occurred to Dean.

Particularly once he compared the gifts.

“You okay?”

Dean shrugged. “Yeah. Just—it’s been a long day and I can’t wait to be home, that’s all.”

On the following morning, after a few not-so-restful hours of sleep, Dean got frustrated from all the tossing and turning, so he left his warm bed and hurried to the kitchen in order to get the day started.

The room was spotless, and just as he had predicted, he found Mrs. Butters already waiting for him.

“Good Morning, Dean.”

Wishing her the same, he took a seat at the table. She quickly put down a plate with a western omelette and fruits on the side, as well as a cup of freshly brewed coffee for him.

“Thank you,” he mumbled. But despite being famished, Dean froze, utensils in hands, and simply stared at his plate.

“Not hungry this morning?”

“No. I am. I—I don’t know.” He put down his fork and knife and let out a deep sigh.

“Oh, dear. Would you like a grilled cheese instead?” she asked and seemingly manifested another plate out of thin air.

“For breakfast?” he said, trying to contain his glee (and failing at it).

“Why not?” She delicately dropped the plate in front of him. “You look like you could do with some cheering up.”

“Is this your way of telling me I look like crap?” he asked her, already chewing on his sandwich, which prompted Mrs. Butters to squint at him about manners.

“I feel like a few additional hours of sleep would have done you good, yes.” She returned to the stove where a few pots and pans were sizzling and boiling. But she kept her stare on him. “Anything the matter?”

That was the question.

He didn’t want to admit it, but his conversation with Sam had bothered him. While he was delighted at the thought that Castiel had been generous with Sam and Jack as well, something that didn’t surprise Dean that profoundly, this revelation had forced him to re-evaluate his own present.

And the more he thought about it, the more it left him with a pit in his stomach.

What Castiel had chosen for Sam and Jack had been perfect for them. If he was honest, Dean wasn’t sure he could have done better himself. Jack had been geeking out about Star Wars since basically his fourth day on this earth, and Sam had his odd fascination about serial killers. Perfect.

And then, there was his present.

Ties with bees on it.

Not exactly something that “screamed” Dean.

And yet, for some reason, Dean had genuinely enjoyed the ties. He had been touched by his kindness and attention. And while ties and bees weren’t things Dean held a deep fascination for, he knew that it was, in some ways, an interest to Castiel.

And that had meant something to him.

Until, that was, he learned of Sam and Jack’s presents.

Now, he felt like his gift was impersonal. Like Castiel hadn’t know what to give him, so he had picked the first thing he had thought of.

And that, above all, bothered Dean. It saddened him, even. Not that he believed himself superior to the others, but Dean, for quite some time now, had been under the impression that he might be something else to Castiel.

“What’s the matter, dear?”

“Oh, um, no—nothing.” He took another bite of his tasty grilled cheese.

Mrs. Butters left her pots once more and joined him at the table, sensing his hesitation.

“Now, now. Something is troubling you. What is it?”

Shifting on his seat, he said, “Not important.”

Unsatisfied with his lie, she took his plate and the second half of the grilled cheese with it.

“Hey!”

“You will get it back as soon as you answer truthfully.” She gave him a menacing look.

Annoyed, Dean momentarily considered abandoning the rest of his grilled cheese to save himself from an awkward conversation.

But his stomach growled and he knew it was a lost battle.

“All right,” he said. “I’ll tell you. Can I have my sandwich back though? Please?”

She held her severe stare for a little longer, assessing his words, and once she judged his tone to be honest, she nodded and returned his plate to him.

“So, I have this—you know who Cas is, right?”

She nodded. “Your friendly angel. Jack’s third adoptive father.”

“Um. Yeah. I—I—him.”

“What about him?”

“Well, he—after you made Christmas happen, Cas gave me—us���Christmas presents.”

“How kind!” she said joyfully.

“Yeah.”

He swallowed hard.

“It wasn’t?”

“It’s just…I’m—I loved the gift—I’m just confused as to why he gave me this.”

“May I ask what it was?”

Dean told her.

Mrs. Butters studied him for a moment and then said, “Were you hoping for something else? Something specific in mind?”

She had said it in such a playful tone it had almost made Dean feel uncomfortable.

Transparent, one might have said.

“I wasn’t expecting anything at all. So, no. No—nothing specific.”

“But you are disappointed.”

“I—I don’t know. No. I’m just…I was happy about it because I—I thought it might have meant—but now I feel like I may have misunderstood.”

“Hmm.”

Desperate to avoid her stare, Dean returned to his grilled cheese, feeling embarrassed by the nature of the discussion.

It was too early in the morning for this.

He remained with his eyes glued to the table for a short time. Once his plate was empty, however, he had no choice but to glance at her.

“So, what are you going to do about it?” she finally asked him.

“What?”

“You say that your friend gave you a present, which you really loved, but that you are now questioning the original intent of the gift. Correct?”

He nodded, determined to not lower his eyes.

“It seems to me that you need to shed light on the situation. So, how do you suggest to go about it?”

This question brought Dean a worrisome thought. Exciting, in parts, but worrisome.

“I—I was thinking that, um, maybe—” he started saying, but the rest of his sentence died in his throat.

“Maybe what?”

“I—I was just thinking that maybe I should do the same. Maybe I should get him something.” He cleared his throat and awkwardly looked to his left, even though nothing remotely interesting was happening there. “Maybe that will, um, help clarify a few things that I—yeah.”

“That’s a wonderful idea.”

Dean let out a short laugh, feeling embarrassed more than ever, as he was deeply praying that Sam—or anyone else, really—would never hear of this conversation.

“What kind of gift were you thinking of?” she asked, utterly invested.

“I—I have no idea.”

“Do you intend to give him something practical? Something he may need?”

Dean pursed his lips. “Not really. It’s not like he really needs anything…he’s an angel.”

“I see. Then, something he enjoys, perhaps? Does he have any type of hobbies?”

“Not…that I know of. He likes bees. And emoticons. And…yeah.”

After a short pause, she then said, “If Castiel doesn’t need anything material, perhaps you can offer him something else, then?”

Swallowing, Dean said, “Like what?”

“I don’t know, dear. He’s your friend. You should know what would please him. As they say, it’s the thought that counts. You are worried that you might have misunderstood something. Perhaps you didn’t. So, think back on the present he gave you and how you felt about it. A nice gesture to symbolize how you feel? That might be a step towards the right direction.”

Following Mrs. Butters’ advice, Dean took time to reflect greatly on the matter at hand. Gifts. Feelings. Meanings.

Which made him even more confused than before.

The fact was that he had previously given Castiel presents. He had even done so on a few occasions, actually. Just never on Christmas. He had done so randomly and simply because he had felt like it at that moment.

Like when he had gotten him a cowboy hat in Dodge City.

And the mixtape.

Of course.

Which Dean didn’t want to dwell on too much. Even if he had meant it. And had certainly not regretted it.

But now, in this context, remembering what Mrs. Butters had told him about his intentions, Dean found the task rather pressuring.

The main problem was that most of everything that came to Dean’s mind that could qualify as “a nice gesture” were things that he would have no problem doing under any circumstances. Which, in his opinion, lessened the effect.

Well, almost everything.

There were certain ideas that could potentially work. They would definitely make some things clear. Be that as it may, Dean wasn’t entirely sure that was the way he wanted to go at this. Mainly because he wasn’t convinced that Castiel would necessarily find it charming—for the lack of a better word—nor did Dean, for the time being, want to get ahead of himself.

One problem at a time.

From the moment the darn ideas had set into his head, however, it had been difficult to get rid of them, to the point that it had rendered him distressed.

Which was why he decided, quite beside himself, to ask Sam for help.

“So, I was thinking,” said Dean, attempting to sound casual, but inevitably failing at it, “since Cas’s been through the trouble of getting us something, maybe we should do the same.”

Sam, not lifting his eyes from his book, nodded. “Cool.”

In the hope that his brother would share a little more insight on the matter, Dean remained still, waiting for Sam to start his usual brainstorming session.

But nothing.

He simply turned the page of his book. He continued reading, sitting across the table. He didn’t say anything.

Annoyed, Dean said, “Any ideas?”

“What do you want to get him?”

“I don’t know. That’s why I’m talking to you right now.”

Finally looking at him, Sam said, sighing, “Dean, I’m sure Cas will be happy no matter what you give him.” When it was evident to Sam that Dean hadn’t liked his answer, he added, “You know that you don’t have to get him anything, right? It’s not an obligation.”

Shifting in his seat, Dean said, “Maybe…. maybe I want to. Maybe I—I’ve been meaning to for a while.”

Diverting his eyes, as he knew full well Sam was most undoubtedly staring at him, he waited for him to comment, perhaps tease him, even. But to Dean’s surprise—and relief—Sam did no such thing.

“Dean, if you’re getting at what I think you are—and about freaking time, by the way—I’ll help you. But I really think it ought to come from you. You know?”

Dean nodded shyly, agreeing with Sam’s point.

They remained silent for a brief moment, until Sam, taking pity on his brother, shut his book and said, “How about we go into town? You can check out a few of the local shops on Main Street? I was gonna go later this afternoon for a bit of groceries anyway. Browsing might give you some ideas.”

Dean let out a massive sigh of relief and thanked his brother.

Even though he had difficulty believing that he could find something worthy of an angel of the Lord at a local gift shop.

And his assumption turned out to be correct.

Clothing stores. Bakeries. Electronics. And so on.

None were offering him good ideas.

Some options? Yes.

But again, not the best ones. Not what Dean wanted to convey, at the very least.

Getting slightly discouraged, he was about to leave a quirky coffee shop he had stopped by for refueling, when something on display caught his eye next to the cash register.

A tiny object. An ornament. It wasn’t jewelry. Not exactly. Nor was it flashy. It was simple and effective.

And, more importantly to Dean, it held a sort of statement. Perhaps in an old kind of way. And yet, Dean liked it.

It was perfect.

And then, he spotted another item, which he believed could be complimentary. And Dean knew this was what he needed to get Castiel.

The only aspect left to figure out was when to execute the gift exchange.

Of course, Dean could have simply waited until the next time they saw each other or simply called him on his way back to the bunker.

And while that was what he ultimately did, Dean was then blessed with another idea that could make the exchange far better and less random.

But for that he needed the help of Sam, Jack and Mrs. Butters.

And so, a few hours later, after the others had agreed with his plan, he dressed up—wearing his tie, of course—called Castiel and invited him to the bunker.

“Is everything okay?”

“Yes. Nothing’s wrong. We just—come by. We have something planned.”

Puzzled at the mystery, but nonetheless inclined to oblige, Castiel joined them a few hours following Dean’s call.

And witnessing Castiel’s surprised expression when he entered the bunker had been worth the effort and the wait of the first part of his plan, Dean thought.

“What’s all this?” said Castiel, pointing at the garlands on the ramp. And the Christmas lights around the ceiling. And the large tree in the middle of the war room.

“Mrs. Butters was about to move on to the next holiday, but, um, I—I was hoping we could get a redo before that. So you could enjoy it with us this time around, I mean.”

“That’s…very considerate and inclusive, as it was unnecessary,” said Castiel, nearly apologetic.

“Dean’s right,” said Sam. “Although we hadn’t planned to celebrate, it was kind of a bummer that you weren’t there when we did.”

“And then you were nice enough to offer us presents, which you really didn’t have to. So, I—we thought we could have another go at it. With you this time.”

Castiel, now at the bottom of the stairs, was staring at Dean with a warm expression. His eyes fell on his tie, and he smiled shyly.

“It won’t be an exact replica of how we celebrated the first time around—”

“Mainly because we didn’t want to seem either ungrateful and too capricious to Mrs. Butters,” said Sam, cutting his brother off.

“I would have done it properly, Samuel!” she exclaimed, sounding offended.

“Though she keeps insisting she would have done it,” said Dean under his breath.

“But close enough,” said Sam firmly over his brother’s voice, wanting to put the matter to rest.

After taking another look around the room, with a genuine grin on his face, Castiel thanked them. “That’s very kind of the both of you.”

“You’re welcome,” said Sam. And as he offered him an eggnog, he added, “Just also want to let you know that, while this,” to which he gestured to the room, “was also Jack’s and Mrs. Butter’s doing, as much as mine and Dean’s, it was primarily Dean’s idea though.” And then he added in the most awkward way, “I’m gonna go check on Jack now.”

And made himself scarce.

Mrs. Butters along with him.

Thus, leaving Castiel and Dean alone.

“Is what Sam said true?” asked Castiel, taking a step towards him. “You did this?”

“It was about time we had Christmas together, no?”

Taking a deep breath, Castiel stared at him for a long time. “Again, thank you.”

“No problem. But this is just the beginning.”

“What else have you planned?”

Smiling mischievously, Dean said, “You’ll see.”

The next few hours were filled with jubilation. Mrs. Butters had them carolling, they nearly fell into a sugar coma, and participated to a gingerbread house contest, dutifully orchestrated by Mrs. Butters.

Everyone had a great time. Beaming at one another, they shared a sumptuous meal, which had been prepared by the Winchesters and Jack—not just Mrs. Butters.

They also played games afterwards. Mrs. Butters beat all of them at cards. Sam dominated in Trivia. And while Castiel and Jack failed to understand the concept of Mad Libs, they had both somehow managed to create the most hilarious and nonsensical stories Sam and Dean had ever had the pleasure to hear.

Enjoying himself as much as he was though, Dean felt jitters multiplying within his chest as the evening progressed. He caught himself staring at Castiel more times than would be deemed acceptable, and when they exchanged looks, Dean wasn’t able to do anything but beam at him.

He eagerly awaited an opportunity to give Castiel his present in private.

He almost had done so when everyone had busied themselves by bringing back the dishes to the kitchen. Pulling Castiel aside for a brief moment would have been plausible.

But not ideal.

He seriously contemplated the option to do the same when Sam went to help Jack find some additional board games that they had stashed in one of the storage rooms, but he doubted that they would be gone for very long. And sure enough, Dean had barely had the time to pour himself and everyone else another eggnog before Jack burst into the room, carrying an impressive number of boxes.

But at last, Dean got his chance during Monopoly. Despite everyone’s investment into the game, the general vibe surrounding them was of a mellow mood. So, after retiring from the game because of bankruptcy, and noting that Castiel was soon going to suffer the same fate, Dean momentarily left the room to fetch his present.

He had carefully left it on his bedroom’s desk.

Biting his bottom lip, he stared at the small red box. He pondered one last time on his choice.  

It was a common enough item, like the ties.

And like the ties, to him, it meant something.

And more than anything, Dean couldn’t wait to see what Castiel would think of it.

The anxiety rose within him.

He was satisfied with his choice.

And there was now only one thing left to do.

Dean needed not venture too far though. Just as he exited his room, Castiel turned the corner in the hallway.

“Hey.”

“Hello, Dean.”

“Sam and Jack got the better of you too, huh?”

Castiel came to a halt once he had reached him.

“It appears that I lack financial skills.”

“It happens to the best of us,” said Dean, smirking. But after noticing a hint of uneasiness in Castiel’s eyes, he said calmly, “Everything okay?”

“More than okay. I really enjoyed the evening, thank you.”

“Awesome. I’m glad, Cas.”

“I simply wanted to let you know before you decided to turn in.”

“Oh,” said Dean, glancing behind him. “I wasn’t. Not yet, anyway.” And then at Castiel’s mild perplexity, he added, “I—I actually came to get this.”

He retrieved the little box from his pocket where he had stashed it moments ago, took a look in the hallway, wanting to be sure no one else was seemingly listening, and presented it to Castiel.

“It’s for you. Merry Christmas.”

As his eyes fell on the present, Castiel seemed genuinely surprised by this.

“You didn’t have to do this. The evening was wonderful, I told you.”

“You got me something. I wanted to do the same.” He slightly lifted his hand to incite Castiel to take possession of it.

Which he did, right after returning a warm smile at Dean.

He observed the box for a second, almost as though he was trying to guess what was in it, and began pulling on the thin string.

“Oh, just—before you open it, can I ask a question?”

Castiel stopped and nodded.

“Why did you give me ties? I love them,” he added promptly. “I just—why?”

“Why do you ask?”

After a short hesitation, but determined to be honest, he said, “I heard about what you gave Sam and Jack. I was just curious how you came to decide on that.”

Castiel nodded once more, now understanding Dean’s question.

“Well, the truth is that it was very difficult to find something for you.”

“How so?”

“There are many things that you enjoy, such as alcohol, food, car related items, pornographic magazines,” to which Dean lowered his eyes for a moment, “firearms and so on, that I could have given you. But I deduced that it was…too practical? Or—most definitions of ‘gift’ in dictionaries suggest that it is simply the act of giving something willingly and freely. Almost none speak of the emotional intent of said act, which I thought was unfortunate. I was under the impression that the intention behind a gift mattered more than the gift itself or the very action of giving.”

Shifting on his feet, Dean said in an even voice, as much as he could master, “So, why the ties?”

“I—I was trying to mirror the cassette tape you had given me.”

This was not the answer Dean had expected.

But he liked the way it was going.

“How do you figure that?”

“Rock music is something you adore. You had wanted me to have something you enjoyed. I saw it as something you wanted to share. And it always reminded me of you when I listened to it.”

And with that, Dean knew he had picked the right present.

“Was I wrong in my assessment?” asked Castiel.

And Dean shook his head, feeling his chest swell with fuzzy feelings.

“I know it isn’t the same,” continued Castiel, “but it was more or less what I was trying to convey with the ties. I cannot always be hunting with you as much as I’d wish, but I figured, that way, the ties might remind you of me.”

Dean swallowed hard before saying, “I don’t need the ties for that. You know that, right?”

After exchanging a deep, lingering look, Castiel gave him a shy nod. Feeling the awkwardness rising between them, despite being appeased by Dean’s words, he then finally took it upon himself to open his present.

He momentarily froze, staring at it after the reveal.

It was two small, delicate pins.

A tiny golden bee.

And a colorful piece of pie.

Castiel stared at Dean, stunned, which rendered the task of holding down his grin very difficult for Dean.

“So, the idea was that this one was intended for you, and I���may I?” asked Dean, as he stepped closer.

Castiel nodded.

Taking hold of the golden bee pin, he said, “I didn’t exactly mean to go all fifties with this, but I—I don’t know, I liked it and thought you might as well.”

“I do like it,” he said earnestly.

Glad, Dean took a deep breath and with a short nod at his upper chest, he silently asked Castiel if he wished to wear it now.

Castiel stepped forward.

As Dean delicately pinned the golden bee on Castiel’s jacket collar lapel, he heard him say softly, “Dean?”

“Hmm?”

“When you say ‘going all fifties,’ are you referring to courtsh—what did you mean?”

Done with his task, Dean gently pressed on the pin to make sure it was safely attached, and stepped back. And met Castiel’s eyes.

“It’s as you thought. That’s why I got another one. That one is for me.”

He processed what Dean had just told him, and as he was reaching out for him, Castiel began saying, “Dean, I—I want—”

Unfortunately, something interrupted him. A loud horn was heard, making them both jump. Unfamiliar with the new alarm, Castiel questioningly frowned at Dean. Amused at his confusion, Dean explained, as loudly as he could over the horn, “Mrs. B.” and “Monster radar.”

Which only brought Castiel additional questions.

The moment the racket was over, before Dean even had time to utter another word, Sam, coming from down the hall, called for them with a sense of urgency in his voice. Castiel turned himself in that direction, while remaining at Dean’s side.

With their shoulders touching.

When Sam finally appeared before them, he said, “So—sorry, I’m sorry. I hope I—I didn’t mean to barge in—”

“It’s fine,” Dean told him. “What’s up?”

“Rugarus. Almost half a dozen of them in Concordia according to the radar.”

“Awesome.”

“I know it’s late and that you—but I don’t think we can wait any longer. And I—I’d go with Jack, but he has to stay hidden because—”

But Dean cut him off. “It’s okay, Sam. No worries. We’ll be there in a minute.”

Sam gave them both an apologetic nod and turned on his heels, eager to leave them be.

Once he was sure that his brother was out of earshot, Dean refocused his attention to Castiel. “What were you going to say?”

“It can wait. Duty calls.” His tone hadn’t been grim. Or even with a hint of disappointment. Simply as a matter of fact.

But he stayed put, facing Dean, with no effort to leave.

“You’re right,” said Dean. “It can wait. There’s just one—a couple of things—I’d like to cover before we join Sam though.” He lowered his eyes to the box Castiel was still holding.

Letting out a faint laugh, Castiel said, “I’ll put it on you right now if that’s what you want. But considering where we are heading, shouldn’t we wait? I don’t want you to lose it. Maybe I should even keep this one safe.”

He lifted his hand to reach for his pin, but Dean stopped him. Holding his hand, he said, “Don’t worry about that, it will stay on.”

“Aren’t these fragile? I told you, I don’t want to break it or lose it.”

“You won’t. I took care of that. I—Mrs. B. helped me. She—just trust me, the only way this is getting off your coat is because you, and no one else, wills it.”

There was a short pause. “Then you are right. It will stay on.”

He lifted the box and installed Dean’s pin in turn.

“Happy?”

“Very.”

“Dean, will you let me know when you will celebrate the next holiday? I’d like to be there.”

Giving his hand a squeeze, he said, “No way we are doing this without you. I’m looking forward to experiencing the rest of them with you.” And knowing that Sam was waiting, he said, “Just one last little thing before we end this one though.”

“What’s that?”

And Dean, slowly leaning in, breathed, “A kiss.”

And he was granted his wish.

                                                        THE END

[rosevanhelsing]

Chapter 9

After Lily's card reading, Charlie got up, went to the fireplace, and said with his hands folded behind his back:

- Your sister will stay here ... since I don't want her to happily walk around here when she pleases and besides  you are depriving the poor creature of celebrating Christmas ... Believe me, she will be much happier here with us. Do not suffer Mary will call you very frequently and will sing Christmas carols for you with the rest of the children of the choir ...

- No! It can't stay with you! Is my sister ! I'm not going to let you ...!

And then she moaned in pain as an intense cramp tore through his ovaries. Manx turned and saw Lily doubled over in pain.

- As I told you, my dear, having that gift is a double-edged sword. You can cut the veil between reality and the world of thought, but you have to pay a price. It's different for each one ... I imagine yours affects your belly ...

- It doesn't affect my belly but my ovaries, you idiot. My period drops, very abundant, every time I use my gift!

Manx went to her, led her gently to a sofa and said giving her a cup of chocolate:

- Sit down pretty and have a cup of hot chocolate. This works miracles for women who suffer during those days of the month.

Lily pushed the cup away with a grimace of disgust, Charlie shrugged and put the cup on a table.

"Is there any way to avoid getting hurt from using the knife?" Lily asked.

- Of course. If you want to keep your gift and take advantage of it without being affected, you have to hurt someone or yourself, or you can give up your gift by destroying your knife.

Lily was thoughtful, Manx looked at her amused and said:

- Tell me, Lily Abertforth, what are you going to do? Oh, and what's going to happen to your sweet little sister? Keep in mind also that the power of your sister in the long run will also bring her pain and damage, who knows what kind ...

Lily said:

- No, none of this will happen to Mary. I will prevent it.

Manx gave a cruel laugh and said:

- How pure and innocent you are ... and that is why I am going to offer you a very generous deal ... I will let you both go but with the condition that you must destroy your knives and forget about me and Christmasland. But, from experience, I know that I cannot trust women, you are all treacherous whores and you would be very capable of breaking the deal ... so give me a proof of good faith before ...

Lily thought, she picked up her cards, looked at them for the last time and when she looked at the one with the Star she thought of that girl she had seen and thought:

- Whoever you are, I hope you are the Chosen One who ends up with this bastard!

Lily went to the fireplace with the cards and said as she threw them into the fire:

-I'm sorry Dad… but I know you would understand. You would want me and Mary to save me before anything else.

Lily noticed at the moment an intense headache and pain in her ovaries, she moaned  and lost her senses, Charlie picked her up in his arms in time before she collapsed on the floor and laid her on the sofa. While unconscious, Lily saw her late father bending over her and telling her.

- Honey, you have to flee as soon as possible from this damn place. He will kill you and then transform Mary into one of his sinister children and also he take advantage of her power.

-Father…

A soft laugh woke her up and Lily found herself lying on the couch. Manx said, paternally, as he passed a wet handkerchief over his face:

- Are you feeling better, young lady?

Lily jerked Manx's hand away, stood up, and said with fury and tears in her eyes:

- Was my proof of good faith sufficient?

-More than enough. So be it ... you can go ... but remember your promise, Miss Aberforth, destroy your sister's knife or I will come back for you ... and this time you will not leave Christmasland.

Lily glared at him, and at that moment there was a knock on the door, Charlie said:

- Your sister has already returned ... - Come in

Mary came in accompanied by Manx's daughters and hugged her sister.

- What happened to you?

- Nothing, that I got dizzy when my period dropped. I think we better get going.

- Ah, okay, we'll be back another day ... Look what they have given me - she said, showing her some extremely pointed scissors - they told me that when I return they would teach me a new game called "scissors for the drifter."

Lily's stomach churned, thinking of her father's message, warning her of Manx's plans with Mary.

-Mary, we're leaving now!

Lily got up and put the  housecoat  on a chair, took her sister by the hand and hurried out of the cottage. As they made their way to the portal, the children of Christmasland watched them brandishing weapons, and with those terrifying reddish looks. Lily squeezed her sister's hand and whispered:

- Mary, you must never come back here. We have to forget about this site.

- But why?

- Because it's bad, I already told you, and besides, Dad  appeared to me when I was unconscious and told me to run away. And Mr. Manx is not a good person, he has forced me to destroy my Tarot cards. Now hurry up.

Mary looked at her in disbelief but didn't argue with her sister at the time. Manx followed them to Mary's portal and watched as they passed.

"What do we do with them, Daddy?" Millie said, holding her father's hand. "Why did you let them go?"

- For them to trust ... Mary will surely return very soon, and then I will take her for a ride in our beloved car ... and perhaps I  will also bring her older sister in the trunk so that you can play with her "scissors for the drifter",  Lily she looks very appetizing, right?

The Manx daughters smiled and licked their lips.

The next morning:

Lily was totally convinced that her sister's Unicorn costume was her knife, so in order to destroy it she convinced Mary that her Unicorn costume had to be washed because it was disgusting, Mary reluctantly agreed. Lily told her sister to go to her best friend's house for a little while and then the two of them would go shopping for Christmas decorations because this year they were going to celebrate it like most people. Mary looked at her in surprise and joy, and asked:

- What happened to you? It seems that the ghosts of Christmas have appeared to you like Ebenezer Scrooge

Lily said:

- More or less ... - rather the damn Christmas vampire ,said to herself.

Mary left satisfied. Lily's plan was to make her sister's "knife" disappear, although she knew that it would break her sister's heart, but she also knew that in time she would recover. Also, if they celebrated Christmas like any other family, Mary would stop envying her friends from school who celebrated it in style, Lily concluded that this must have caused Mary to search in her dreams for a place to celebrate her by meeting Christmasland. So taking away her envy and convincing her that this damned amusement park was actually a dream would eventually make Mary forget about it.

Mary took out the Unicorn costume, brought it to the barbecue, and set it on fire to prevent Mary from retrieving it, unaware that Charlie Manx was watching her.

- Wow, with the little bitch, so it seems she knew what her sister's knife was ... let's check it out.

Charlie Manx followed Mary at a distance, the Wraith's radio was silent, he grunted in frustration and clenched his hands on the wheel.

- It's a shame, Mary had so much potential ... I could have taught her - He said - Now it is no longer useful to me and unfortunately she  does not appear in the Cemetery of may could be. Anyway, at least these two will no longer be an obstacle for me and they will not meddle in my affairs.

Lily's plan worked very well, despite Mary's initial annoyance  at the disappearance of her costume, but since she was still small  Mary  recovered it relatively soon.  And as her sister supposed, in a short time she considered Christmasland as a dream and eventually forgot it.

[janisarkisian]

Friends Bring Light During All Times

Yay!! It’s Scarlet’s birthday!!! Tbh wut is a plot??? This fic has like no plot and it’s not very good quality, but Scarlet’s birthday definitely warranted a fic, so here it is! If you actually read, I hope you like. 

Word Count: 771

“Is Scarlet okay with us being here?” Cinder asked the rest of the group in a hushed tone.

Even though the light was dimmed, Cinder could see the guilt set in on Wolf’s face. “I didn’t exactly tell her we were doing anything for her birthday.”

Winter gasped, “Scarlet’s going to be mad if she doesn’t like this.” Jacin and Cress nodded in agreement.

Cinder sighed. They were all here. All except Scarlet at the moment. It was her birthday, and Wolf had invited them all to come out. Even though none of them would ever admit it, knowing now that they might have to face Scarlet’s wraith was scary.

“I see her!” Kai yelled from across the room. Immediately, the room hushed. Cress turned off the lights, and they all bolted behind the couch.

“Wolf?” Cinder heard Scarlet ask.

Everyone behind the couch looked to Wolf. Slowly, he gave them a countdown. Three. Winter almost bolted up, but Jacin stopped her. Two. This time, Thorne pretended to get up, but Cinder shoved him back down. What a goof-ball. One. “Happy Birthday!” The whole crew shouted simultaneously, and Scarlet looked so shocked.

Through all the excitement, Cinder heard Winter giggle, “Yay Scarlet-friend! You’re twenty-one now!”

Scarlet looked through the crowd. “You guys are all here,” She whispered, almost in tears.”

“Of course we are!” Throne shouted, “When Wolf invited us out, none of us would miss this invitation for the world!”

Cinder saw that Scarlet was beaming now. “You guys,” she laughed, “Why didn’t you tell me?”

Cress’s timid voice spoke up, “We wanted it to be a surprise!” Everyone laughed, including Wolf.

“Well I was surprised,” Scarlet admitted, “I thought it was just going to be me and Wolf. Oh, and of course I can’t forget the chickens. Is there anyone else we would have been with?” She looked to Wolf.

Wolf shook his head.

“Oh yeah! There is someone else we would have celebrated with. How could I have forgotten about our baby that’s on the way!”

The news sunk in fast. Winter was the first to acknowledge it. “Scarlet!” She exclaimed.

Cinder was just glad she happened to be facing the same way as Wolf. His facial expressions were by-far the sweetest thing she had ever seen. Finally, when he was beaming more than Cinder ever thought he could, he muttered, “I’m going to be a dad.”

***

The rest of the night was more of a baby shower than a birthday party. Scarlet and Wolf’s future baby was all anything could talk about, and Cress was already planning a real baby shower.

“Who’s going to be the godmother?” Winter asked Scarlet, and amid all the questions, she looked completely bewildered.”

“I hadn’t given it any thought,” Scarlet replied, with what Cinder knew was honesty.

Winter’s face shown. “Can I be the godmother, pretty please Scarlet? I’ll give the baby extra presents for birthdays and Christmas, oh please Scarlet?”

Scarlet just rolled her eyes. “Sure, Winter.” Winter did a little dance, and near the end, Cinder saw Jacin watching her with such awe, that Cinder knew she would be married soon.

***

Scarlet was exhausted. Normally, she could party all night with no issues at all. Stars, she was only four weeks into her pregnancy. It was only getting worse from here.

She was going to sit down when the doorbell rang. “All go get it!” She called to the rest of the crew who was partying in the kitchen.

Opening the door, Scarlet was greeted by shining blue dreadlocks. “Iko!” She exclaimed, looking behind her. There were two more figures. One, Scarlet remembered as the grumpy ex-palace guard, Kinney. The other she didn’t recognize, but she was holding Iko’s hand.

“Come on in guys!” Scarlet gestured to the house.

Iko nodded, “Do you remember Kinney and Tressa? Kinney and I had a break between hunting wolf soldiers, so we decided to drop by here. And Tressa’s his sister. She’s my girlfriend now.”

“Well make yourselves at home guys. I’m really tired so I might go to bed soon, but everyone’s welcome to stay.”

***

“Scarlet!” Iko practically screamed after Cress telling her she was pregnant, “Why didn’t you tell me when we came in?”

She shrugged, “It didn’t seem important at the time.”

“Well, it most certainly is important. No wonder you’re tired! Come on tell me all your plans!”

What plans? Scarlet didn’t have any. But she knew, talking to Iko, that she had great friends. Friends who cared about her and the new baby to come. This was the best birthday she would ever have.

[macabretrees]

Title: Primavera Summary:  Maglor sings the Noldante, and then he doesn't. or  Maglor seeks to end his life at sea, though a sudden change of tune presents him with options he never thought possible. 

A/N: Here’s my gift for @thegreencarousel​! Surprise, surprise--it’s Maglor centric! I took some idea from a convo we had about Maglor and the Songs of power, and exactly what he could do with it! I hope you enjoy this! Merry Christmas! I proofread as best as I could, but I always miss things! 

---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- It must have been on the edge of the sea-shore, with his body half-submerged in the water, and the other damp on the sand did he realize it. When his voice had been lent to other things aside from the Noldante did he realize how frigid the air was, and how cool the water against his waist had been. Yet the tides had been so gentle, like soft hands kindly pushing him back to shore, as if to stop him from going deeper.

He sat up with a new awareness, his voice absent of song for the first time in years. Though the Noldante was less of a song and more of a self-imposed prison. He had seen nothing but his deeds during his seemingly ageless performance and had expected his encore to end at sea. Yet here he was, awake and alive, and less of a wraith than he was a day a before.

He shifted his body mechanically and hissed as his hands brushed against the tiny grains of sand, missing the numbness that came with being entranced in Noldante’s spell.

With a groan, he stood to his feet and braced himself as his legs shook. Part of him feared he would slip back into the water, though he doubted the Lord Ulmo would let him die so easily. For some reason, the water had not taken him, and there was a painstaking urge to know why. Death would have been welcome, but apparently, the Valar had thought otherwise.

Ahead of him, the sky bled a dull pink, and Maglor could not help but stare at the way they illuminated the clouds. It was an art in itself, the reds reminding him of his mother’s bright, auburn hair. He wondered if this second chance included her, though thought against it.

Maglor had no idea what this was, or what had broken him out of his stupor, but if it truly were the Valar, he would not be seeing his mother any time soon.

Though his current state did garner deeper speculation. Had the Valar truly woken him? Why would they wake him? Had it even been them?

Not all strange things had been the fault of their neglectful rulers. Some things just were.

To assume the Valar cared about him enough to rescue him beyond idiotic. He knew better. Though that still left him where he was to begin with.

Why had he woken? Why was he still alive? Why was—

In the ocean, a gleam of silver caught his eye as it rocked gently in the waves. Against his better judgment, Maglor reached into the water and winced immediately as his hands made contact with the waves. Nevertheless, he bit his lip and fished the object out.

To his surprise, it was a harp. His harp. The one he carried with him after he left Eonwe’s camp. The very harp he had used to conduct the Noldante.

He thought to let it drift back into the sea, suddenly accustomed to his new-found freedom. While the Noldante provided a sense of purpose, albeit morbid, it had laid down a path that he could not stray from. In fact, his entire life since he’d left Valinor had been decided for him. Now he had the chance to decide something for himself.

He strummed the strings of the harp absentmindedly as he thought, an action bred of habit. His lips curved as he prepared to sing the Noldante, though shut as he realized what he was doing. Not now. Not ever. He repeated the mantra over and over again, fighting against the very magic that had brought this all on him to begin with. He forgot who his father was, and remembered what power flowed through his veins.

The same kind that could reduce the will of the caster to nothing. The same that had created the Oath.

He contemplated dropping the harp and turning away from it forever. But something begged him to hold on, something yearned him to use it, but for what. All he knew was sadness and pain, guilt manifested into music for the deeds he had done.

There had been times in between that of course, times filled with laughter, joy, and happiness—Elrond, Elros, and Maedhros, Ambrussa as well. And even before that, he had been surrounded brothers and cousins, most of them banished, but together nonetheless.

The entirety of his life had been happy. Unfortunately, he had not seen it until now.

Suddenly he looked at the sky and gasped at its magnificence. Red. Red like his brothers. Red like his grandfather, like his father’s forge, like his mother, like home. And suddenly, a new tune to sing, a new-found purpose.

He sang of his childhood untouched by darkness, of the festivities he celebrated in Middle Earth with his brothers and cousins, of a world with his wife on his wedding day, of his mother’s lullabies, Elrond and Elros’ poor attempts at cooking, his father’s lessons—everything into a song.

The world around him changed as it had when he’d sang the Noldante. But there was no heavy miasma of darkness surrounding him, no agony following his every step. This was healing, invigorating. He felt as if he’d been reborn like every note healed his tarnished soul.

And then he dropped the harp and stared at his hands.

The scar was there, but the pain was gone. A reminder, yes, but a promise for a better future. Certainly, the Valar had not done this. This was something else. This was him.

He smiled to himself and hesitantly grabbed the harp.

Music had created the world, had it not? And was Maglor not the best singer among the Noldor. With that, the elf turned on his heel and resumed his walk among the shore. He would compose his new future.

[takerfoxx]

“The True Meaning of Christmas” Thoughts

Disappointing reception aside, I still really liked this story, and it’s worth talking about. So let’s jump in!

Like I said earlier, the premise for this special was actually recycled from the original idea I had for A Very Nineball Christmas, in which the various members of Team Nineball would try to explain the true meaning of Christmas to one another, with each explanation being more outlandish and inaccurate than the last. This was scrapped for reasons that I no longer remember, and the plot of Daiyousei's gift-hunting adventure was used instead. I always had an idea of writing a sequel that recycled the original idea, but it never materialized. However, when I was about ready to call the whole Christmas special thing quits on account of not having any ideas for another PMMM story, I realized that that old idea could be easily adapted into a PMMM setting, so the decision was made.

I knew from the get-go that I didn't want to make it a Resonance Days story, since the show's original setting worked just fine. I also knew I wanted it to be post-Rebellion since Nagisa was perfect for a sort of Little Timmy character for the other characters to try to explain things to. There were some changes to canon though. Everyone's still contracted with Kyubey in this version, even though the end of Rebellion implied that Homura had resolved to take care of the remaining Wraiths herself and would certainly not want Madoka anywhere near another contract. This was ignored to keep things at least somewhat familiar, as delving too far into what-if's would just distract from the story I was trying to tell. Granted, I did indulge in that little deviation with Madoka's vague Christianity, which, as I mentioned, just came from the particular English subs on my copy and doesn't seem to appear anywhere else, but it didn't change too much and stayed within the bounds of acceptable deviation, so it was kept.

Mami's story was sort of tricky. I wanted her to handle the family aspect given what happened to her parents, but unfortunately, the whole happy family at Christmas thing isn't the sort of thing that fills pages. In fact, originally it just had the one page and ended with her going downstairs and finding her parents waiting for her. But as the other stories kept getting longer and longer, I realized I had to beef hers up at least a little, so the whole bit with the arrows and the snowballs was added. Personally I would have liked to have done more, but even that bit of stretching was hard enough as it was, so I just left it.

Now, before I get to Kyoko and Sayaka's stories, let me just take a moment to comment on those two. See, it's no secret that they're my favorite PMMM characters, and I ship them oh so very hard. But the funny thing is, despite writing one of the biggest and certainly the longest KyoSaya fic running currently for the last four years or so, I realized during this story that I had never really written an actual interaction between them. Everything in Resonance Days was all Kyoko and Oktavia, and to date they had never hooked up. They did in Walpurgis Nights, but again, that's Ophelia and Oktavia, not Kyoko and Sayaka. Close, but not quite the actual thing. So this was the first time I ever got to write Kyoko Sakura and Sayaka Miki in a scene together that wasn't a flashback or a dream. And since this is my story and I do what I want, I just went ahead, killed the subtext, and made them straight-up gay for each other. And let me tell you: it was fun, especially since I got to get rid of Kyoko's cynicism and Sayaka's holier-than-thou attitude. As a result, I got a pair of wonderful goofballs that just bounced off one another beautifully. Getting the same chemistry out of Kyoko and Oktavia is always kind of difficult, since there's usually a melancholy note that dampens it. But this was just a delight, and I hope to be able to do something similar in the future.

Okay, let's get to their own stories. I had Sayaka cover Santa Claus, since she's the energetic, fun-loving one even in the original series. And because it's her, I had her butcher it terribly and turn it into her own weird fantasy where she coos over Nagisa (which she totally would) and eventually turns it into a cheesy Sailor Moon-esque show with skimpy outfits and Homura as the evil queen. Because she totally would. That one alternated between being fun and breezy to surprisingly difficult. It's easy to parody something that you are very familiar with, but seeing how I never watched Sailor Moon, I got stuck sometimes. It's easy for me to do silly. I am great with silly. But intentionally cheesy is another kettle of fish, and it proved to be more difficult than I expected.

Anyway, of course Kyoko would handle the Nativity, given her religious background. This story was probably the easiest of the bunch, since I already knew the Nativity story backwards and forwards. But what kind of held me up was exactly how to approach. I'll get into a little more in depth about my own feelings toward Christmas's religious aspects a little later, but even so, if I had her recite the actual Nativity story like Linus did in Charlie Brown Christmas it wouldn't have worked at all. For one, if you're going to go that route, you have to go all in like Peanuts did, and that just wouldn't have worked. It would've stuck out like a sore thumb, taken attention away from the rest of the story, and since I don't personally adhere to the religious aspects of Christmas, it would have felt fake and forced coming from me. Believe it or not, I personally feel that the lighthearted, irreverent parody I went with instead would have been less disrespectful instead, since it was made clear that it was just Kyoko having some fun, the other characters interrupted her constantly to tell her how much she was screwing up the story, and it never directed insulted the source material. Even so, while it was funny and the easiest of the stories, it was also kind of uncomfortable, as even though I don't go personally see Christmas as a religious thing, I don't want to disrespect those who do. That's just not me. So that was a bit of a tightrope to walk, but hopefully no one was offended.

All right, moving on to the next two. Again, it's weird to think about, but even with Walpurgis Nights being a thing, this was the first time I actually had a story that included Madoka and Homura. It was the first time they ever got lines. And that's just weird. For Madoka, I just copied how I did Gretchen in WN, but Homura was…well, I've been doing cold, sarcastic, and contemptuous characters for a while, so she was surprisingly easy to write for. Madoka's story had some issues going in though. I knew I wanted her to cover the romance thing, but like I've mentioned before, that sort of thing just doesn't come easy to me. Mami and Charlotte is pretty easy at this point since I've been developing their characters for so long and worked really hard at making their relationship believable, but this sort of cutesy one-off…well, it took some work and lots of rewriting. It kept veering into Homura almost guiltily confessing how she had brainwashed everyone, and obviously I couldn't include that, so for once I actually had to stop a scene from taking its own path and write something safer, which is not something I do often. I also had to figure out a way to explain why Madoka was sharing such an intimate moment with everyone when she hadn't even admitted that she and Homura were dating, and also find a reason why Homura wouldn't stop her. As such, the whole gimmick of her accidentally transmitting the memory to her soul gem was thought up. For that I feel it worked pretty well. I also got a kick out of the whole bit where Madoka is all embarrassed about coming clean, while everyone else is like, "Yeah, no shit you're gay." It was sort of difficult to think of an explanation for why she and her parents would skip out on having Christmas morning together. At least her totally not canon religiousness came in handy for that.

Anyway, things got darker during Mami's little emotional episode, though Homura did help turn things around. Funny thing is, I always loved the Homucifer twist in Rebellion, since it was a wonderfully dark way to take things, no one saw it coming, but it made perfect sense in hindsight. But I also acknowledge just how messed up Homura became and the many unfortunate implications there are concerning the extent she took her brainwashing of everyone else, especially seeing how she essentially erased Madoka and Sayaka's friendship. But those were implications for another story and I wanted to keep things light, so I just went a vague acknowledgement that this was indeed Homucifer and went for a more optimistic interpretation of her actions and left it at that.

Obviously Homura would be the one to set the record straight at the end, given how few fucks she's giving these days. And of course it would be a dry, Spock-esque recital, complete with her quoting Linus's famous line. Now to do this scene, I had to go back and do a little research of my own. I already knew that it wasn't actually Jesus's birthday and a lot is borrowed from ancient pagan holidays. And I had a fair idea of where Santa came from, and knew about Japan's own Christmas traditions. But a lot surprised me. Turns out Christmas has a really gnarly, and sometimes downright bloody history. Thank God a lot of it is no longer done, but things like caroling and gingerbread men come from some twisted sources. Also, I had heard about the connection between Odin and Santa, but this was the first time I had it confirmed. Turns out there's a lot of old Norse traditions sticking around, which is weird and really cool. But anyway, I felt it was a nice way to end things, with the confirmation that since Christmas has a really weird history that borrows from several dozen sources, everyone's reasons for celebrating it are equally valid.

Now that being said, let's get personal for a moment here. For me personally, Christmas is a weird time. Part of it is due to how I always have to work on it, and Christmas shifts are always pretty stressful, so that's a big bah humbug. And it gets harder to figure out what to get people every year. Further to the point, I was actually raised in a Christian household, so for many years the whole Jesus's birth was really important to me. But as I got older and learned more about the holiday's history I got more and more disillusioned with that bit. I mean I didn't come to have a problem with Christianity itself and certainly never had an issue with anyone who chose to celebrate Jesus's birthday on Christmas. But watching such dumbness like the War on Christmas and people getting all worked up about such things like "Taking the Christ out of Christmas" and moaning about secularization and all that when it was never actually Jesus's birthday to begin with…well, I didn't like it, let's just say that. It just seems like a dumb hill to die on, and seeing people I know and love still carrying on about it just really bothers me.

But even so, while I may be more cynical about Christmas these days, I can't deny that there's just something special about it. I still remember looking forward to it every year, the excitement of giving and receiving gifts, family all getting together and having a great time back before my aunts starting fighting, and just that feeling in the air. I still love Christmas music, Christmas decorations, and just that overall Christmas feel, and while I do like my job, getting my Christmases back is one thing I am really looking forward to once I finally leave.

So I guess right now my feelings toward Christmas are mostly in line with Homura and Sayaka's. There is something weirdly special about it, and it should be a fun day. And all the reasons for celebrating it are equally valid. So let's please stop with the dumb arguing and just have fun together, okay?

[rosevanhelsing]

Portal Creator

Disclaimer: this fic is a story before the novel and has elements of the novel and the comic as well as some reference to the series. Charlie Manx character and others mentioned in the novel are not mine, this is just for fun.

Lily stood up suddenly, she had had a terrible nightmare. In it she saw her little sister wandering through a dark amusement park. The park was snowy, carols sounded, and it seemed like a cozy place, but she sensed that there was something sinister and evil in that park and she didn't know what. However, her sister was walking quietly there dressed in her unicorn costume.

- Mary, come here, I don't like this place ...

- Why do you say that, Lily, if it's very pretty. Look what it says on this sign- said Mary pointing up.

Lily looked up and read the sign: "Christmasland."

- You see it. A place related to Christmas can't be bad ... Why don't we celebrate Christmas like other people? I'm going to see if I see Santa Claus.

- Mary, no ...

Suddenly she heard a car engine and powerful headlights illuminated her, she covered her eyes in the glare, and a car sped towards her, out of the darkness, causing her to wake up with a gasp.

Lily got up and went to the bathroom.  When she came back,  she looked at her sister's room, Mary  was sleeping peacefully clinging to her stuffed animal.  However Lily couldn't get the feeling of fear out of her head so she went quietly to the office. Lily sat down and picked up her tarot cards. She shuffled the Major Arcana and made a roll of three without asking. She started on the left one, the  Chariot card appeared, Lily put her hand on it and visualized an old car, driving down a snowy road, this one was of a black color so dark that it was confused with the night and powerful headlights that pierced the night just like the one she had seen in his dream

On the St. Nicholas Highway, Charlie Manx's private road, the Wraith emitted a buzz of static that cut through the carol that was playing at that moment, Charlie frowned but waited to see if something else happened. Lily turned the card in the middle, and the Devil's card appeared, when she put her hand on the card she saw a tall man, dressed in a long dark coat with skirts and a cap ... his back was turned, so that she could not see the face, and led two girls by the hand. One of them, the tallest, turned, she had a very white face with marked black veins and bright eyes. She smiled at him, showing her sharp teeth, Lily gasped and with drew her hand, at the same time the Wraith emitted static again ...

"What's going on here?" Manx wondered uneasily.

 The Wraith rarely reacted, and when it did it was because some especially powerful creative soul was entering some inner passage. Manx closed his eyes and pinched the bridge of his nose, if it was what he suspected he had to locate that creative soul and make sure that, at least, he did not get in his way. He looked at himself in the rear-view mirror, he already had some crow's feet and his hair that was already scarce was beginning to turn gray, it was time to start looking for a new ally and rescuing children again.

As Lily turned the last card, the Moon, she saw the same park that she had seen in her dreams, but this time there were other children wandering around the park, all of them with a smile full of sharp teeth, bright eyes and wearing, in his hands, sharp scissors. And he observed in the sky a strange moon that, surprisingly, had a face, and he smiled at her with a sinister smile as if inviting her to enter.

Lily pulled her hand away and dizzy, fainting in her chair as the Wraith hummed again, took a detour, and returned to the real world, entering a town.

Hours later:

Lily was coming back from picking up her sister from school along with her boyfriend Jeff. He explained to her that he planned to do an auto mechanics module and specialize in historical vehicles, she said yes but was distracted thinking about her disturbing dreams. Suddenly Jeff squeezed her arm and she complained about the squeeze.

-Oh, don't be so stupid!

- Look what a beauty!

Lily and Mary looked in the direction Jeff was pointing, Mary said:

- Jeff fell in love with a car?

- Don't be silly, Mary. Jeff is a fan of antique four-wheelers.- she said with a sigh, as she followed her boyfriend

Jeff was looking and taking pictures of the Wraith, running his hand gently over the hood, and over the shiny chrome.

- It is, it is!

- What kind of car is it, Jeff? - Lily said with weariness- please, as long as you keep rubbing the car and its owner sees you, maybe she'll get angry ... like that time with the car that came out in a movie ...

- Ah, yes ... what a rude guy the owner  ... if you have a car like that,  you will attract attention

- You and your sister are the same, a car that you see that you like, a car that you touch ... like people who caress all the dogs they see. ..

 - You are an exaggerated! ... Also this car is unique! It's a 1938 Rolls Royce Wraith! It is a rare model, very few were made, about 500 if I remember correctly.

This one is also in perfect condition. You know, my grandfather had always wanted one like this ... do you think its owner would sell it?

- If this model is so exclusive, I don't think so - said Lily

-  You're quite right, miss. This Wraith is invaluable to me and I wouldn't sell it even if they gave me for all the gold in the world for it- said a soft voice

Lily turned and came face to face with a tall and thin man, who was wearing a long black double-breasted coat with skirts, light gray pants, black mid-calf boots, and wearing a gray chauffeur's cap with a black leather visor. He looked in his fifties and had crooked, pointed, brown upper teeth sticking out from his prognathism.

- What a repellent guy- Lily thought and said: - Excuse me, my boyfriend loves vintage cars.

- Well, your boyfriend has great taste in cars.

Jeff smiled, walked over to him, and shook his hand. Charlie shook it cordially and said:

- My name is Charles Talent Manx to serve you.

- My name is Jeff Stevens.

"I'm Lily Aberforth and my sister's name is Mary," although she refrained from shaking hands.

Charlie noticed the hum of the Wraith and smiled. It was evident that one of the three was the creative soul he was looking for.

"If you're looking for a mechanic," Jeff said, digging in his pocket and taking out a card, "my father has a workshop."

- Thanks young man. - Manx said putting the card in his pocket- Now that you mention it, I think it's time for the oil change so I'll bring it one of these days.

- We will take very good care of your car. My father, just like my grandfather, is a very good mechanic but nothing compared to how good John, Lily and Mary's father, was.

-Was? - said Manx

-   Wow ... what a disgrace. I'm so sorry, young lady.

"As I was saying," Jeff continued, "his father was a prodigy, just by looking at a car he almost knew what a fault it had." My father used to say, jokingly, that the cars whispered to him that it was happening ...

"Jeff ... we have to go to do homework and we've already bothered Mr. Manx too much." Lily said jaded and eager to leave.

- Easy, young lady. Believe me you were not a bother. It is difficult to find nowadays boys of your age so nice and well educated. - Manx said smiling, put a hand in his pocket and took out some candy canes.

Wow ... what a disgrace. I'm so sorry, young lady.

"As I was saying," Jeff continued, "his father was a prodigy, just by looking at a car he almost knew what a fault it had." My father used to say, jokingly, that the cars whispered to him that it was happening ...

"Jeff, don't roll with it… we have to go to do homework and we've already bothered Mr. Manx too much." Lily said wanting to leave

- Easy, young lady. Believe me you were not a bother. It is difficult to find nowadays people of your age so nice and well educated. He put a hand in his pocket and offered them some candy canes.

Jeff took the candy without hesitation and kept it thanking him just like Mary, Lily hesitated but accepted the candy with a barely audible “thank you”. Charlie watched them as they walked away, hearing how Lily reprimanded Jeff, reproaching him that he should not go telling the lives of others to strangers.

Charlie thought that the young man did not look like a creative soul but the girls had a better chance of being - thought Charlie - His Wraith was never wrong. Charlie got into the car and said to himself:

- Well, now I have to make sure which of these three is the creative soul and if they  knows anything about me ... then we'll see ...

Manx gently stroked the dashboard of his beloved Wraith, and it seemed to match the purr of the engine.- Well, now I have to make sure which of these three is the creative soul and if he knows anything about me ... then we'll see ...

Manx gently stroked the dashboard of his beloved Wraith, and the car seemed pleased by the purr of the engine.

[rosevanhelsing]

WHAT IF

Vic McQueen went to the garage and took his bike to go for a ride. She was disgusted, all the people who were upstairs in the room, pretending that they were sorry for the death of his grandfather when in reality they had always despised him, even Chris McQueen himself. Also, she was worried, she had recently gone over a wooden covered bridge, which was supposed to have been demolished a week ago, to find a bracelet that her mother had lost and she thought she was going crazy.

As she pedaled, she thought of that bridge and suddenly it appeared before her. Vic felt a sting in her left eye and thought:

- I want to find someone to explain this to me...

And she started to run across the bridge at full speed… practically shooting out onto a road, Vic braked, skidded and fell into the road… a huge black car slammed on the brakes and skidded to a horizontal position in front of Vic.

Two minutes before:

The Wraith's radio began to make some strong interference, Charlie knew that possibly some creative was using her powers, although the car had never made so much noise, also that she began to sound the horn

- What the hell…

Manx suddenly saw how a boy or girl was crossing the road on a bicycle just 5 meters ahead and slammed on the brakes, making the car skid and it was stopped just in time not to crush the boy.

For her part, Vic started to get up a little dazed from the fall and the shock of having almost been run over.

- Holy Virgin! But what were you doing crossing the road without looking, girl? You could have been run over.

Vic turned her head and looked at the man who had spoken to her. A tall man with dark hair and dark eyes, with a few grays at the temples. He was wearing pants and a dark coat, as well as gloves and a chauffeur's cap, even though it was almost June and hot. However, he seemed kind and attentive and had a look of genuine concern on his face, so she accepted his outstretched hand to help her up. Charlie turned and saw a huge covered bridge on the side of the road and he understood everything. The girl was a creative one, a very powerful one, but she surely didn't understand her powers and she was disoriented.

- Are you okay, little girl? Charlie said.

- Yes sir. Sorry for the scare I gave you.

- It's okay, pretty. And my name is Charlie Manx, dear

 Vic suddenly complained with an “ouch” due to a scraped knee.

- Poor thing, you're hurt... Come, lean on the car, I think I have a first-aid kit...

- No, you don't have to...

Charlie made Vic sit on the hood of the Rolls, pushing her gently but firmly and went to get a small box from the glove compartment of the car.

- Well, Vic McQueen, I suppose you want to know how it is that you can make a bridge appear from nowhere...

Vic's eyes widened in surprise and she said:

- How do you know my name?

- I know a lot of things… Like that your father calls you “Brat”, that you want to be a painter and that you also draw very well, right? …

- Illustrator… Vic corrected him. - I just want to know if I'm crazy.

- You're not crazy, little one. You are just very creative. That is why you must also have a knack for drawing. Charlie said as he reached down and gently placed an alcohol-soaked handkerchief on Vic's knee.

Vic stoically endured the sting of the alcohol and said:

- Because I?

- I don't know, daughter. We just had to be like this...

- Are you like me? - Vic said surprised - Can you also find things or people?

Charlie smiled to herself; the girl had told him her powers without realizing it.

-Not pretty. You see… With this very special car I can access a place called Christmasland. It is a place where I take children to keep them safe from their parents… It is an amusement park, full of rides, trinkets and gifts… Every day there is Christmas and every night Christmas Eve

-Well, what a pain to always celebrate the same thing... she escaped Vic

Charlie looked at her surprised and seemed even disgusted. Vic regretted having been so loud, apparently, she had hurt that man's feelings and she hadn't done him any good. Vic began to be afraid and she didn't know why. She wasn't sure if it was the black-as-night car she was leaning on and that she saw full of gifts in the back seats, suspiciously things that she had wanted to be given..., or Charlie that, despite his kindness, there was something sinister about him. like the pointed teeth and long fingernails… he looked a bit like a vampire and she didn't understand how someone like that went unnoticed.

- And how can we do that?  she said trying to divert the subject and learn more

-The fact that?

- I find things and you go to Christmasland.

- Ah, well, because we all use something that we really like to do that. Christmasland is in my head and when I have someone in my car, the Wraith, then I can access the San Nicolas highway, the road to Christmasland. Tell me, what do you want most in this world, and I mean an object, not a person or a pet...

Vic was hesitant to tell him, but thought it best to clear up her doubts and said,

- I think my bike.

-Good. And can you get over that bridge without your bike?

- No. But you don't understand. That bridge shouldn't exist. I mean, it used to exist, but they knocked it down, but I keep going...

- I know, dear, you have that bridge in your mind and when you take the bike it is as if you took it out of your head into the real world, you use it as a knife. It's complicated, believe me. It's like magic.

- Do they always have to be vehicles? I have my bike and you have a car.

- No. It can be anything, as long as you like it a lot.

Vic nodded, her head and left eye hurt terribly, and she said:

- I'd better go home. I feel a little sick.

- That must be from using the bridge. -Manx said, grabbing her gently by the shoulders and looking into her eyes- This gift gives you powers, but it takes something away from you. That's why there are so few of us, and some burn out before they reach their potential. And you, Victoria McQueen, have a lot, a lot of potential. It would be a shame if you lost it, but I can teach you how to avoid it… You need a teacher and I could be that teacher.

Vic hesitated, for a moment, it was so tempting the idea of ​​a place where she could do whatever she wanted, without being judged and now she could take advantage of her powers…perhaps helping Mr. Manx find other children with her bridge… Vic shook her head as if that way he could get rid of that idea and said:

- I prefer to tell my parents. They will know what to do and help me.

- You know perfectly well that they won't believe you, Vic...

Vic yanked free, quickly jumped on her bike and ran out of there. Charlie didn't follow her; he already knew where to find her. Without Vic realizing it he had given her one of his candy canes and he was sure that when she found out she wouldn't throw it away. However, the Wraith's engine roared with a frustrated growl, sounding like a dog being removed the bone.

- Calm down, my friend, Charlie said, stroking the long hood of the Wraith- Vic McQueen will end up in Christmasland.