#would let the either of them live lmao like its not stockholm syndrome; a lot of these are very active choices and its just!!

[juminsfakecat]

don’t get me wrong i love jihyun/v....... but i hate that the takeaway from his character isn’t that his passive aggressiveness/self-sacrificial tendencies may not have been as bad as rika’s actions, but he did enable a lot of of her bullshit & despite his wanting to hurt innocent lives, he indirectly did because of his actions/decisions. i think he’s a very good character, and his resolution that his relationship with rika being toxic is very important, but still.... i guess i just wish that instead of the “babyboy uwu!! must protect!!” attitude towards him, there was just more (i guess?) accountably?? yes, he was in love/obssessed, but that’s not an excuse. rika didn’t manipulate him. he was always beside her by choice, regardless of his intention to protect the rfa or not...... and just??? i get that he treats himself poorly but am i the only one who just doesn’t pity him for any of it?

[eremiie]

i saw this post here and just wanted to dissect everything lmao

aot 139 spoilers 

“Eren admits that he literally killed 80% of the world’s population, he then says he only did it so it would look like eldians stopped a threat”

eren admit to killing 80% of the population bc he did... he’s admitting to what he did, and he says that he wanted to paint them to be the heroes— but not only did he do that, he ended the curse of ymir and gained freedom for his people. it wasn’t just to paint them as heroes

“He also did it so the rest of the world couldnt murder them”

he didn’t “also” do it for that reason, it was an effect, the rumbling ended up killing so many people that they can’t wage war on the eldians like eren says, it keeps them a little safe which they needed especially since some of humanity knows that paradis is what started the rumbling. it’s a cause and effect type thing. because eren killed 80% of the population that remaining population won’t be able to retaliate and try to kill the eldians since there are so little of them

the tybur family is treated like some of martyr and apparently pulling the strings which led to the deaths of millions of innocent eldians was actually a GOOD thing

this scene was interpreted wrong, armin says “...so you want us to be like the tyburs after the great titan war? we’re supposed to protect paradis from reprisal from humanity outside the walls?” he’s asking eren if that’s what they’re gonna do, he never says it’s a good thing. then that’s when eren explains that either way so much of humanity is destroyed that they wouldn’t be able to retaliate if they wanted to

Armin THANKS him for it

armin thanks eren for doing what he did to free them. not thanking eren for for mass murder period. it’s because of eren that the curse is lifted and that they are free and that’s what armin’s thanking eren for. mass murder is inexcusable, and eren knows that. that’s why after he panics and goes “but i dont want to die!” he comes to a realization that all the people he killed didn’t want to either, that the only way to atone for his sins is by dying himself. even if he didn’t die he would’ve probably been executed, or imprisoned for the rest of the life. just like in mikasa’s ova, “eren’s death is inevitable, no matter what reality you go to eren will always die because he carries death within himself.” 

in another translation of the chapter armin thanks eren for being the bad guy so that they could win. he knows what eren did was bad. he’s not excusing it, he just understands why eren had to do it and that eren had no choice if he wanted them to be free. 

from the get go freedom was one of the themes of eren’s character. if eren lived the whole entire world would be ruins and eren would’ve been even sadder than now, there would be nobody and it would’ve been worse than it is now. eren killing everyone was definitely not the ending to go. the ending we have could’ve been executed differently, sure, but in my eyes since i get the gist i think isa did an amazing job portraying what he had in mind. 

“Armin is more upset with Eren saying he doesnt know how he feels about Mikasa moving on than mass genocide”

once again, armin isn’t all that upset with eren because he understands that eren had a path laid out for him that he had no choice to follow. the point of eren committing mass genocide keeps getting brought up as if it’s not know that mass genocide is a terrible thing. it is and that’s why everyone was so angry about it from the get go, that’s why that one plan of blackmailing humanity with the rumbling and not actually go through with it was brought up once— because they knew how cruel it is. armin knew how cruel it is as i believe it was him who brought that up

he’s upset with eren about mikasa’s feelings in like a banter kind of way. it’s like “this whole entire time this is how you felt but you couldn’t tell her that and let her suffer???? don’t forget what you said to her, she went through hell!” kind of thing. they had already talked about the whole mass genocide thing, mikasa was the next topic of discussion

“Eren then finally shows some fucking emotion and cries abt how he doesn’t want mikasa to be with anyone but him”

in another post i say, "okay so first i think the issue is that a lot of people fail to realize that the way eren acted all throughout season 4 isn’t eren really, that is him putting his emotions at bay so that he can complete something that he laid out for himself for his friends.eren from season 1-3 still exists, and that’s lowkey the eren that was talking the whole time in chapter 139— you can see the how he cares for his friends, you can see the desperation again, the compassion, everything in between.” 

eren is still that s1-3 eren, season 4 eren just had to put his emotions aside so he could walk on the path that ymir put in front of him. 

him crying over mikasa was one of his selfish desires coming to light, and it was realistic. it’s finally dawning on him that he’s gonna die, he’s finally getting to sit down and ponder about mikasa, he’s getting desperate, he’s panicking, and that compassion that he’s always had for his friends is showing through again. this gives realism to his character— it makes his character all the more human. one second he’s complaining about how he doesn’t want to die and wants to be with his friends bc its crashing on him, and the very next second he’s trying to be at peace with himself, realising that the only way to atone for what he caused is by dying. one second he’s complaining about how he wants miksa to be with anyone but him, the next second he’s coming to terms with himself and that mikasa needs to move on, because he loves her and wants her to live a long and happy life even if it means without him. the selfishness that showed for that mere second makes his character realistic. it shows that he’s still whiny, that little whiny angry boy from s1-3. he was never heartless and he was never cold. he was and is still eren jaeger, and you get a glimpse of the eren we know in that scene.

The founder ymir was apparently in love with the king???? another women stupidly devoted to a man, great.

i’m not too in depth with ymirs story so im not gonna speak too much about this because i myself do wish that whole love thingy went more into depth. i get how mikasa and ymir parallel each other, but other than that i’m not too sure myself, and i’ll admit that. it could be a case of stockholm syndrome, it could be that bc ymir was infatuated with living and she was confined to such a familial role she wanted to live in that role again with the king bc he’s the only person who gave her that familial lifestyle. i’m not sure. but if anything mikasa was im pretty sure the only character “devoted” to a man in aot. and it was because of the role eren played in her life, she’s not a bad written character, she has her developement. which i explain here

apparently mikasa’s unhealthy devotion to eren is what took her out of it????? in fact the series overly romanticizes mikasa’s love for eren despite the two having no chemistry and eren being an ass to her

in a sense, but that’s a simple minded way of saying it. ymir’s devotion to king fritz was unhealthy, eren describes it as “agony of love” because it was pretty unhealthy obvi. like i said ymir and mikasa parallel each other, and seeing mikasa be able to let go and kill the one she loves was that realization for ymir that she was able to do the same thing— that’s how i interpret that scene personally.

and in mikasa doing so, killing eren lifts that curse of ymir and frees ymir regardless, so ymir was happy about that as well. thanks to mikasa for cutting eren’s head off. 

the series doesn’t necessarily over romanticize mikasa’s love for eren in my opinion. how i see it is that since eren is a big part of mikasa’s character he was necessary for her development as well, and her development was to let eren go because of how infatuated she was with him. this being said the series points out how unhealthy the way she loved him was especially in s1-3, and her love becomes more healthy when she gets her development in chap 139, finally being able to let eren go and move on. compare that to in the s1 when eren almost dies and she’s ready to die as well. thats development if you ask me. 

one of the themes of the show is sacrifice, and almost every character has made one, mikasa sacrifices eren— she kills him and she chooses to go through with that decision despite how much she loves him. 

eren was definitely mean to mikasa in s1-3 because she was overbearing, and thats one reason why i say the way she loved him was unhealthy at first. eren wasn’t able to reciprocate her love in the way that she loved him because it wasn’t healthy. eren also wasn’t able to reciprocate it because the last thing he was focused on was the concept of love. once again he had a path laid out for him that he had no choice but to follow, and mikasa didn’t have any play in this path until the very end, so the boy who keeps moving forward does just that and doesn’t pay her much mind, doesn’t get to sit down and think about his feelings for her, what she is to him.

(and i dont think i even need to explain the “mikasa i’ve always hated you seen, the chapter covers that enough)

they do have chemistry time to time, the eren v dina fritz scene, the scarf scene, “what am i to you”, little stuff like that goes into play and gives them these little sparks of chemistry. they couldn’t always grasp onto the full scope of the relationship they had and it was only some times they were able to do that with everything going on.

apparently the titans are just gone now….??? i cant even tell if its because Eren died or because Mikasa really made Ymir calm down

... eren controlling rumbling, eren dies rumbling stops, ymir finally lifts curse bc 1) eren died 2) shes able to come to realization that like mikasa lets eren go, she needs to let fritz go and the curse go. ymir lifts curse, eren’s goal is complete, if titan curse is lifted there are no more titans

Characters who murdered thousands and were the cause for AOT’s entire plot in the first place are now treated as heroes to the eldians… despite the shit that they did.

everyone in aot did some “shit” they all are murders, eren commited mass genocide, reiner commited mass murder, annie murdered so many people, reiner, armin destroyed thousands of people in one go, they all have killed somebody. they are seen as “heros” because they stopped the rumbling that was going to kill everyone else...... idk about you but if you just saved me from a horrid death, my racist opinion on you doesn’t really matter because you just saved my fucking life lmao, yes despite the shit that you did— because they have killed people too, and they were ready to kill the eldians still until armin told them that they killed eren, that they saved their lives and eliminated titans for good.... like whew???

the series went from “The military is cool” to “the military did a lot of fucked up shit” to “the military is SUPER cool”, and buffed it up

i’m not really sure where you got that tbh,, like the military wasn’t really a big thing up until the whole marleyan thing??? and they didn’t have much plot in the story besides it existing so like i’m not sure what to say ab this, i can’t really remember many times the military was even mentioned until now, but if anyone wants to elaborate on this for me that’d be nice

oh and they buffed up the military because since paradis had eren jaeger who started the rumbling, just in case, they had to be ready to fight again if the rest of humanity wanted to do something. after marley they updated all their technology, why can’t they update the military as well? it’s realistic, new weapons, new military, and all that

The military was buffed up bc the eldians are scared of the rest of the world retaliating, so Eren didn’t really fix shit except giving the Eldians an upper hand in the war

eren jaeger was the one who always screamed “i will kill all titans, we will get freedom” ya de ya de ya.... didn’t he do both of those things????? i thought those were some of his main goals as a character, he fixed those issues, the issues that have been issues since the start of the show

the rest of humanity don’t know the full scope like the eldians or marleyans, they’re probably just as scared and like in real life not all nations are at peace with one another. this is just another realistic factor— attack on titan is becoming a world closest to the real one we live in, there are militaries, there are still conflicts, there is still all these little aspects that bring the manga even more to life.

in my opinion it’d lowkey be weird if the rest of the world was just like “oh yeah those mfs that started the rumbling we love them haha” no... it killed 80% of the population like eren said... that’s not something to love.

Historia has a really disturbing speech about how the fight isnt going to end until either the Eldians or the rest of the world are exterminated, despite Gabi has an entire arc about her being deradicalized and learning to see the other side of things.

and yes i am not kidding, the heroic conclusion is that there’s still going to be a war, eldians are going to commit mass genocide (which was proposed by eren) and people straight up thank eren for the evil shit he did.

“this fight will not end until either eldia or the world dissapears. this is what eren said and he may be right.” she doesn’t say that it’s for sure gonna be a fight until one or the other is wiped out, she says there’s a possibility of this being the case because of the fact that these nations aren’t at complete peace yet. 

not everyone is gonna be able to see the other side of things, and this applies to the whole word— us as humans will never be able to agree on one thing, and that’s what this shows. no matter what the cycle of hatred will always continue, and this applies to real life and this manga. we are human beings and that’s what makes what historia says even more real. “this is the world we live in, a world without titans.” titans are no longer their conflict. now it’s only like the real word— humans against humans, and as far as humanity existed it’s always been humans against humans. historia’s speech shows that.

the heroic conclusion is that as a human race nothing will always be agreed upon, eldians are going to fight if they need to like our military fights when they need to. people are thanking eren for freeing them and ending the curse of titans that they suffered with for 2000 years. nobody’s thanking him for his actions of mass genocide, they are thanking him for the motive behind his actions, and thats what makes him so heroic.

that he endured and did something so terrible so that anybody who lives after him can be free, and humanity can continue existing as humanity should’ve existed from the beginning.

and that concludes this for me, thanks for reading<3.

[firewoodfigs]

and A and B collapsed in it, exhausted

ERI!!! ILY 🥰💕

VADE ILY MORE <3 tysm for the prompt and I'm so sorry it took me so long to get back to it, but I hope you enjoy!! :')

(side note: this kinda spiralled out of control so it might be a better idea to read it on ao3 instead LMAO)

                                        xxxxx

There are a few things that her mind manages to dimly register before it loses focus.

One, the ongoing chaos around her — the yelling and screaming and the achingly familiar smell of smoke. Riza hopes that means the unit is safe, that the mission has succeeded. Adrenaline rushes through her veins as she struggles to remain alert, but her faculties are stubbornly uncooperative, and the only thing it really manages to absorb at the moment is pain.

Pain. Her hand is drenched, sticky. Riza inhales shakily, her breath coming out in short, ragged gasps. She’s bleeding from her side, and she has to bite her lip to keep from crying out as she presses down on her side. Her efforts are in vain; blood continues to drip on broken cobblestone like water from a leaking tap. She’ll probably need a blood transfusion or two. Riza just hopes she hasn’t punctured a lung (though she can certainly feel the makings and telltale signs of a broken rib or two).

The last thing she hears a voice she’d recognise anywhere — Hawkeye, stay with me. Stay awake, you hear me?Instinctively, Riza tries to obey the command, but it’s hard when pain is spreading through her chest like an exploding star; when she can barely catch her breath. She picks up on the desperation in his voice as he lapses into informality — Riza, stay with me, please. You’re going to be okay— and manages to choke out an apology before her consciousness flickers like a spoiled lamp. She wants to tell him to not worry, to tell him how she’s truly felt for the past decade, but the last spots of light in her vision seems to fade away, somewhere far beyond her reach, and —

And then her world turns to black.

—

When she finally wakes, her world is an astonishing shade of white.

Riza blinks groggily. She would have pushed herself into a sitting position, but the dull ache in her side seems to hint that that would be a spectacularly stupid thing to do. So she continues lying down, feeling very much like an invalid. Her nose wrinkles at the nauseating stench. Antiseptics. Disinfectants.

The hospital.

Riza bites back a groan and, this time, fighting any sense of rationality and self-preservation, attempts to seat herself up. She hears a matronly voice fussing over her predicament — something about her being as stubborn as Colonel Mustang had described her to be, and would have snorted aloud at the hypocrisy if the morphine hadn’t done its job so expediently.

Riza falls back asleep, the pain slowly ebbing away as a hand reaches out to gently stroke her hair.

—

The next time Riza wakes, her world is spinning, tilting on its axis to create an indecipherable blur of colour. There are, however, blobs of light swimming in her vision, warm and golden —  daylight? It must be daytime, then.

Riza swallows a pained groan and forces her eyelids open. Her vision is hazy, but she notes, to her dismay, that the ceiling is still conspicuously white. That must mean she’s still in the hospital. She clears her throat and blinks, hard, thinking it might just be a hallucination or a side effect of having too much morphine in her system, but her surroundings remain the same.

The only difference this time is the voice that greets her. It’s deep and decidedly masculine, one that she would recognise anywhere. (One that has been haunting her dreams.)

“Are you awake, Lieutenant?”

“I am,” Riza mumbles. She will never understand how her body can be so tired even after she’s slept so much. She doesn’t even know how long she’s been out for. “How long was I out for?”

“Nearly two days,” Roy whispers, and she immediately detects the worry in his voice. She wonders if he’s gotten much sleep over the past two days; the dark circles lining his concerned eyes tells her that he hasn’t. “How are you feeling?”

“I’m alright, sir.”

Riza shakes her head lightly in an effort to dispel some of the dizziness. Slowly, she tries to ease herself into a sitting position, wincing as a sudden wave of pain surges through her abdomen.

“Lieutenant!” he half-yells, chidingly. Riza winces again when he circles his arms around her torso without any warning. “You shouldn’t be doing that.”

“Hypocrite,” Riza manages, weakly.

Another burst of pain renders her speechless soon enough, and then she’s gripping onto the bed rail like it’s a lifeline.

Roy ignores her comment well enough. Gently, he adjusts her back into bed, the hem of his black wooden scarf tickling her cheek as he does so. She mutters something about propriety and regulations, but Roy ignores that as well, instead bringing a cup of water to her lips. Riza sips at it slowly. She hadn’t realised how dry her throat was; it makes her feel like she's just swallowed sandpaper. Like she’s back in the desert.

Riza mumbles a thanks when she’s done and leans back against the hard pillow, bringing a hand up to shield her eyes from the sunrays. She is so very tired. She thinks she could use another shot of morphine, possibly another day in bed, but there are bigger, more important things at hand, like —

“How did the rest of the mission go?”

“We’ve managed to sort everything out, Lieutenant,” Roy reassures, frowning at her priorities. “Don’t worry about it. Worry about yourself, first.”

“You’re being hypocritical again, sir.”

“Maybe, but we can save this argument for another time.” His tone brooks no disagreement, and before Riza can so much as protest he’s already taken the liberty of laying her back down. “For now, rest.”

“I’ve been resting for two days, sir.”

“Clearly, you haven’t had enough,” he says, smirking in a way that makes her want to pull the trigger on him. Regrettably, though, the hospital has a no-arms policy, and she finds that even the pistol that she always keeps hidden on her thigh has been removed. Riza huffs. “Since you haven’t shot me yet for putting you in bed.”

“I will soon enough,” Riza mutters, but the words sound tauntingly hollow to her ears. Her eyelids are starting to feel heavy again. She can feel herself slowly ebbing away, drifting back into a void.

“I look forward to that. And Lieutenant?”

“Yes?”

As much as she tries to fight it, being awake for the past ten minutes has taken a toll on her still-battered body, and she’s unbelievably exhausted. Being so drugged up probably doesn’t help, either.

“Do not, under any circumstances, risk your life like that for me. Ever again.”

That’s what a bodyguard is for, is what Riza wants to say, but sleep reclaims her before she can properly protest, and it’s dark again. (She thinks she’d managed to articulate a resolute no, though.)

—

The rest of the unit, along with Rebecca, visits her the next morning.

Riza manages to remain civil and courteous throughout the entirety of their fussing — which is a miracle, she thinks, when Rebecca and Havoc are sobbing like she’s actually dead. (Riza rolls her eyes and pats Rebecca on her hand when nobody’s looking, hoping the contact will provide some confirmation that she is still in fact among the living.)

Falman, Breda and Fuery are, thankfully, a lot more composed than them, although Fuery himself looks like he’s well on the verge of crying too. Riza distracts him expertly with questions about Hayate’s well-being, and he perks up immediately at the mention of her beloved pup (who’s presently under his care, because he’s the only one she can entrust Hayate with).

“Alright, alright, the Lieutenant needs her rest,” Roy announces at last, much to her relief. As much as she appreciates their concern, she does need her rest, and she will probably need an extra dose of morphine, too; Riza can feel the ache in her side starting to flare up again. “It’s time to go.”

Riza hears a chorus of get well soon, Lieutenant, mingled with a couple of tearful goodbyes. (Rebecca mumbles something about Roy being a selfish prick who’s kidnapping Riza for himself and warns Riza against Stockholm syndrome. Riza rolls her eyes and tells Rebecca to stay away from shitty soap operas.)

Riza waves at them as Roy ushers them out. When the room is empty again, he turns his undivided focus back to her, and asks, “Are you feeling alright, Lieutenant?”

“I’m fine,” Riza insists, although her mind is already devising a way to ask for morphine without him noticing. She’s sure that he’ll kick up a fuss if he realises that she’s in pain; the last thing she needs is him moping around day and night like a kicked puppy.

Slowly, like she’s testing the waters, Riza eases herself up - with some uninvited assistance from her commanding officer - and breathes heavily, resting her head on the pillow. She notes the weird contraption around her waist and stifles a childish groan. The fact that it’s still there means that she’ll probably be wheelchair-bound for a while, but she’s already starting to feel restless from being stuck in bed for so long. (Riza wonders if this was how Roy had felt, when he had been hospitalised after his affray with Lust. She thinks she can better empathise with his decision to recklessly discharge himself now.)

“Are you hungry?” Roy asks suddenly. Riza shakes her head, but he continues anyway. “I made chicken soup.”

Riza watches, somewhat nonplussed as he extracts a thermal flask from an insulated bag and sets everything up on the overbed table. The sudden role reversal discomfits her a little. Riza feels strangely out of her element, being cared for like this (when it’s normally the other way round).

“Thank you, sir,” she says, both embarrassed and touched by his concern. “You didn’t have to trouble yourself —”

“It’s no trouble at all, Lieutenant,” he interjects gently, smiling.

Riza shrugs and sips at the homemade soup wordlessly. The warm liquid glides down her throat easily enough, and she lets out a hum of approval, pleasantly surprised by the sudden display of culinary talent from her commanding officer.

“This is really good, by the way. Since when did you learn how to make such good chicken soup?”

“Since ten tries and a burnt kitchen.”

Riza almost sputters. “What?”

“Just kidding. I’m not that bad of a cook,” he says, grinning as he ladles out a bowl for himself.  Riza stares at him disbelievingly. Burning down a kitchen is not something altogether impossible for him, considering his track record of culinary mishaps. “Really, Lieutenant. Give me some credit. I’ve improved quite a fair bit since my days as a teenage boy.”

“Well, this proves it, for sure,” she says, and his grin widens.

“I’m glad you like it.”

Riza offers a small smile of her own in return.

“I do, thank you.”

They eat in companionable silence. Riza is relieved to note that his mood has improved somewhat. since the last time she’d been awake. She might’ve been too drugged up to fully comprehend her surroundings previously, but she had been conscious enough to note the anger and frustration, the worry in his tone when he’d reprimanded her for her recklessness. And it’s easy to understand why was mad; he’s always had a peculiar habit of putting his subordinates above his own well-being.

Still, Riza doesn’t think she’s done anything wrong. She’s simply doing her job, and he’s simply being overprotective. She is his bodyguard, after all, and that itself entails sacrifice where necessary. And she would do it, in the blink of an eye, if it means keeping him out of harm’s way.

But Riza also knows him well enough to know when to back down from a losing argument, and so she simply pretends that conversation never happened. She’s satisfied with the way things are between them — for now, at least.

Above all, she’s just relieved to see that he’s safe.

—

Later in the afternoon, a nurse comes in to check on Riza.

“How are you feeling today?”

“Better,” she says, even as the growing ache in her side threatens to expose her lie. Roy looks at her, unconvinced, and Riza feels a sudden, uncharacteristic impulse to give the nurse a hug when she ushers Roy out for privacy reasons. She’s not really the hugging sort, but this nurse - Jade, Riza notes, from the little white name tag hanging from her breast pocket - definitely deserves one. “When can I be discharged?”

“Not so soon, my dear.” Jade clucks her tongue, as if disappointed that Riza had even asked such a thing. “We’ll have to keep you around for at least a week more, but you should be able to start physiotherapy in a couple of weeks.”

Riza visibly cringes when she hears this. Two weeks is a long time to be hospitalised, and she’ll probably be out of commission for a while at this rate — especially if physiotherapy is involved. (Throw in an overprotective boss in the mix, and she’s basically done for.)

“Is it possible for us to start physio earlier?”

“No such luck, sweetie,” and Riza cringes again, this time at the term of endearment. She’s always been a little uncomfortable around nurses like these, simply because the military doctors are usually the stoic, no-nonsense with no time for coddling.

(Between the two, though, she’s not sure which she prefers, but Riza decides she just hates hospitals in general. The rooms are stifling and smell like a mortician’s lab, even though it’s a place that is technically supposed to keep her alive and nurse her back to health.)

“I’ll be fine. Really, I’m feeling much better already.”

Jade sighs, the disapproval apparent on her pretty face. “Have you even tried walking yet?”

“No, but -”

“Good, you shouldn’t. You’ll have to use a wheelchair for a few days, before switching to a walking frame.”

“I’m sorry?”

“You heard me,” Jade confirms, sounding a little more apologetic this time. “I would strongly advise against trying — unless you want to risk worsening your injury, you’re better off staying in bed.”

Riza frowns, very much displeased with her current predicament. As she’d predicted, she is, in fact, wheelchair-bound, but she hadn’t thought that she would have to rely on a walking frame, too. She’s never had to rely on one before — not since she was first trying to learn how to skate on the rink that one winter as a girl of ten.

“I’m sorry,” Jade says, patting her on the hand sympathetically. “I’m sure you’ll get better soon, with time and rest.”

Riza shrugs, feigning nonchalance. She’s irritated at the situation, but there's really not much she can do right now other than rest. Besides, her commanding officer will find a way to keep her here somehow even if she tries to escape.

“Alright. Thank you.”

“You’re welcome. Now, do you need anything else? More painkillers, perhaps?”

Riza nods grimly. She turns away as the nurse administers another dose of morphine, and adjusts herself on the pillows in helpless resignation as she waits for it to take effect.

“Take good care of her. She’s a stubborn one.”

Riza hears these words faintly, through the charged, cottony silence filling her drug-addled mind. She tries to protest, but the words seem to come out like garbled nonsense, and the last thing she hears before falling back into unconsciousness is something that both irks and warms her heart immensely.

“I will.”

—

Riza begins her first physiotherapy session exactly a week later.

By some stroke of luck, she’d managed to bring it forward, after proving to the doctors that she had, in fact, made a rather speedy recovery — even if said recovery meant that she was still mostly stuck to a wheelchair. Her commanding officer hadn’t been too pleased, of course, but it was still worth being able to get out of her room and get up on her own two feet.

That doesn’t mean it’s easy, though. Recovery is an agonisingly slow, painful process. Riza finds herself trembling, just from supporting herself with a walking frame. It feels like someone is repeatedly stabbing her at her side, and she has to pause every now and then just to catch her breath.

Riza grimaces. She hasn’t felt this winded since the last time she’d had an awful case of bronchitis. Her legs are like jelly, and there’s a sheen of sweat that’s starting to stick to her fringe from all the heaving and wincing she’s been doing the past five minutes.

Still, Riza forces herself to keep going. She’s had worse, anyway, and this is nothing compared to the survival camps she’d endured back in the academy.

(It’s also nothing compared to what Havoc is going through.)

“Now try to put your left foot forward, Miss Hawkeye,” the physiotherapist says, and Riza follows suit, thinking of her friend as she takes her first steps. “Very good, now slowly, with the other foot.”

Riza continues as instructed, even as a fresh jolt of pain shoots through her side. Riza grits her teeth and staggers forward. She has to do this. She has to get better soon for the unit, for him. It’s bad enough that he’s already missing one subordinate, and she would rather die trying than be a liability.

(The thought of being an additional burden on his already worn shoulders is simply unbearable.)

—

“How did your first session go?” Roy asks later that evening, when he comes around to visit her. It’s already way past visiting hours, but Riza doesn’t need to ask to know that he’s probably charmed some poor, ingenuous nurse into breaking the rules and letting him in.

“Fine.”

Roy frowns. “I still think you should have waited for a bit longer before —”

“I’m fine,” Riza insists. The exhaustion is beginning to creep up on her, and she doesn’t think she can sustain much of a conversation - much less an argument - today. Riza notes the dark rings under his eyes and immediately softens. Guilt creeps into an overworked system, urging her towards a feeble attempt at reassurance. “I promise, sir. Don’t worry about me.”

Roy stares at her meaningfully, and then sighs as if to say, you know that’s an impossible request. He offers a wry smile.

“Alright,” he says, making himself comfortable on her bedside stool. He folds his arms across his chest and yawns, joking about increased paperwork and reduced efficiency in his absence, but Riza can tell that he’s still in a sombre mood; she doesn’t need to ask to know that he’s been beating himself up over her current situation.

Riza knows, however, that it’s not something that he’s particularly keen on discussing, and so she plays along with a teasing shrug.

“I hope you’re not slacking off, sir.”

“Oh, you know me. I wouldn’t dare.”

“I’ve known you long enough to know about your atrocious work ethic, sir.”

He laughs. “I’ll work on that, Lieutenant.”

“Good.”

—

Roy continues visiting her the following evenings, after her physiotherapy sessions. He’d insisted on tagging along at first, but Riza had convinced him that it was better for her to do them alone. It’s bad enough that the nurses are starting to think that there’s something more than a strictly professional relationship between them.

Besides, he’d made a promise to not skive off at work. That had been enough to get him off her back in the afternoons, but not enough, apparently, to prevent him from breaking in and visiting her at night.

“You don’t have to come every day, sir,” Riza says, because she knows he’s been basically shuttling between her and Havoc. The fatigue is obvious on his face; his complexion is paler than usual, taking on an almost sickly tone, and the rings under his eyes are starting to become almost bruise-like.

“Nonsense,” he scoffs. Riza rolls her eyes, because he’stalking nonsense. “I’m fine.”

“You look tired.”

“Is that meant to be a jibe at my appearance?”

“Yes,” she deadpans, pointing at the stubbles on his chin. “You haven’t even shaved today.”

Roy waves a dismissive hand as he carefully pours out her favourite congee into a bowl. “I still managed to charm my way in, so I’m sure I’m still as good looking as ever.”

“With all due respect, sir, you’re not.”

“Really, now, don’t be insubordinate —”

“I’m serious, sir.”

Roy regards her with abject horror, and heads to the bathroom to fix his stubbles while she slowly savours the steaming bowl of congee that he’s left on the table. Roy leaves an hour later, and at first Riza thinks he’ll take a hint and take the day off tomorrow, but he shows up the following evening, anyway, remarkably clean-shaven this time.

—

As much as Riza knows that her expectations are unrealistic, it’s disheartening to see that she’s still having trouble walking. It’s been nearly two weeks since surgery, and she’s received feedback that she’s making tremendous progress in physiotherapy, but it’s still too slow. She’s still not discharged. She’s still not allowed back at work, she’s still mostly confined to bed, and —

And she’s still useless.

She hates it, of course, but there’s really not much she can do right now. She can’t return to work without her commanding officer filing a restraining order of some sort, and she can’t discharge herself without an entire army of hospital staff hot on her tails.

She can, however, get past the nurses who are a little too preoccupied with the rumour mill. And so she does. Riza wheels herself furtively into a lift without attracting attention, and, having brought along her inconvenience of a walking frame, takes her rehabilitation into her own hands. She ventures out into the hospital garden, clumsily pushing herself towards standing. The floor is cold and the air tastes salty, but it’s the most alive she’s felt in ages. Her first step is shaky, and so is the next, but she is walking without supervision. Taking baby steps.

Riza smiles, even as her arms tremble from having to hold up her entire weight. She soldiers on anyway, persisting in her hobbling. It’s a strangely liberating feeling to walk by herself after weeks of enduring multiple sets of watchful, paranoid eyes.

But maybe she’s overestimated herself. The ache in her side returns with a vengeance, without warning, causing her to pause in her tracks.

Riza leans against the railings, gasping for breath. She presses a hand to her side as another wave of pain strikes. She’s a far cry from her usual athleticism, now. She doubts she’ll be able to ace the annual military fitness test this year like she normally does (she’s never fallen below the gold standard since graduating from the academy).

“Hawkeye!”

Riza stumbles when she hears her name. She only just manages to latch onto a nearby railing, but her limbs seem hellbent on giving way. She braces herself for the impact, expecting to fall flat on her face, but a hand reaches out to steady her from behind just before she crashes to the floor.

A little more than relieved, Riza exhales shakily and clutches onto her walking frame, with both hands this time.

“Hawkeye,” she hears again, and she knows instantly that she’s in for an (unnecessary) lecture.

“Sir,” she heaves. “I’m alright. Sorry for the scare.”

“What are you doing here by yourself?” Roy exclaims, and she shushes him with a displeased glare.

“Keep it down, please. We’re in a hospital.”

“Exactly,” he huffs, his voice taking on a reprimanding tone. “You shouldn’t be out and running about by yourself. Where are those nurses, anyway? Why isn’t anyone keeping you company? What if —”

“Sir,” Riza stresses, her irritation seeping through. The last thing she needs right now is to be treated like a helpless child. What she needs, actually, is some affirmation that she’s still a valuable asset to the team. Still useful. “I’m fine. You worry too much.”

“You’re not helping with that, Lieutenant.”

“The last I recalled, you were running around with a similar injury.”

“Yes, but I was an idiot, and you’re not.”

Riza smiles. “I can’t say you’re wrong there.”

“Anyway,” he continues, clearing his throat as if to regain some of his lost dignity. “You were nearly caught in an explosion, and then shot by a bullet. That’s far worse than getting impaled in the gut.”

“When you put it like that, I’m not too sure which is worse, sir,” Riza says. As much as she appreciates his concern, the double standard is beginning to grate on her nerves; she thinks he should at least be grateful she hasn’t broken out of the hospital by sheer force yet.

Roy huffs. “Stubborn as always, aren’t you?”

To that, Riza simply shrugs. She leans back against a nearby vending machine, enjoying the fresh air and dim lights for a bit before being forced to go back.

Roy regards her with a meaningful look like he’s debating whether to scold her or something else. Something she doesn’t want to expressly acknowledge. Not yet, at least — not during this crucial period of their lives that could very well dictate how the rest of it will go.

(But this is how it’s always been, Riza thinks. They’ve never needed words to convey the unutterable. In many ways, their actions have always spoken louder than its verbal counterparts, and it’s probably best for them to keep it this way, to suppress the felonious sentiments that they’ve already kept so closely guarded for years.)

“Put your feet on top of mine, Hawkeye.”

“Sir?”

“Just do it. You’re not that heavy,” he says, gently pulling her forward so that she no longer has the vending machine for support. Something nudges at her toes, and Riza raises a brow, as if to question whether he’s genuinely serious about this. “Go on.”

“You could end up with two broken feet, sir —”

“In which case I’ll get an extended leave from work, so really, that’s a win-win.”

“Seems like you’ve given this a lot of thought,” Riza says. She laughs quietly at his antics, and she doesn’t need to look at him to know that he’s smirking triumphantly, like he’s just bested her in a game of chess.

“Of course I have. Now get on, it’s better than walking around like you’re fully recovered.”

And because she knows better than to fight a losing argument, Riza just does as she’s told.

Gingerly, she puts her feet on top of his, mindful to not fracture anything. Roy pulls her close to him, wrapping his arms around her torso — whether to prevent falling, or to embrace her, she’s not sure, but she doesn’t mind, not really. Being shackled to a hospital bed for two weeks is enough to make her crave and cave into human contact.

“This feels an awful lot like we’re dancing, sir.”

“Again, a win-win.”

She rolls her eyes. “How very opportunistic of you.”

Laughter rumbles from his chest, genuine and unbridled.

“You know me. I would never pass up on an opportunity to dance with my favourite subordinate.”

“I’ll be sure to relay your message to Havoc, sir.”

“Thank you,” he says, and Riza bites back a laugh at the obvious sarcasm. “Alright, now just follow my lead. Move your left foot back.”

She does as she’s told, again. Roy repeats his instructions for the other foot, and the cycle repeats, until they’re trudging around in small circles. It’s like graceless dancing, Riza thinks, observing him silently as he frowns from concentrating so intensely on their every step. It’s just like when he’d first tried to teach her how to dance. (Dancing around campfires during the pumpkin harvest had never really been her thing - in part because it involved copious amounts of socialising and talking, and in part because she was born with two left feet - but it had been Roy’s, evidently. She hadn’t the heart to rain on his parade, and so had reluctantly obliged when he’d asked her to dance.)

“What’s so funny?”

“Nothing, sir.”

His frown deepens, and he stops moving for a moment.

“Are you tired?”

“I’m alright, sir.”

“You always say that,” he murmurs. “But I don’t want you to overdo it. Let’s get you back.”

Riza sighs resignedly. She is starting to feel exhausted, but there’s a part of her that doesn’t want this shared, private moment to end, either. She’s been enjoying it more than she should. More than she would ever admit.

“Alright,” she says, but Roy surprises her and pulls her in for a hug.

“I just wanted you to know that you’re not useless, Riza. Not at all.”

Her throat runs dry.

“Sir?”

“I know you’ve probably been feeling that way,” he continues, running a hand through her hair, now limp and sickeningly dry from all the time spent away from sunshine and conditioner. “Which is why you’ve been pushing yourself so hard. But I promise you you’re not. You could never be.”

Riza chews on her bottom lip contemplatively. She wants to ask how he’d read her mind, but there’s no point asking questions that she already knows the answers to. They’ve known each other for a long time, after all (she knows he must’ve been thinking the same thing during his earlier convalescence, too).

“I - thank you, sir.”

Roy nods, his chin tickling the top of her head.

“Besides, that word is meant for me, not for you.”

Riza laughs, but it comes out muffled as he continues stroking the back of her head.

“Your level of self-awareness today is off the charts.”

“I know,” he smirks. “Shall we?”

She nods, and Roy guides her back into her wheelchair. Their extensive experience with covert operations is particularly handy during a time like this; Roy manages to somehow evade all of the staff on duty and successfully wheels her back into her room without arousing suspicion.

Riza is so enervated that she practically sinks into the mattress without protest, even as Roy helps her in. She eyes him as he makes himself comfortable - as comfortable as one can be - in the old, lumpy chair beside her.

“Sir,” she croaks out. Riza clears her throat and tries again. “Sir.”

“Yes?”

Riza shifts a little to make space. She’s thankful that it’s already evening; she’s pretty sure she’s blushing by now, because she’s never been so bold, so forward before. (He’s usually the one taking initiative when it comes to things like this, but the unhealthy pallor in his skin is enough for her to make an exception.)

“You should rest, too.”

“I am, Hawkeye.”

She shifts a little more to the side. He gets the hint.

“Well, since you’re asking so nicely —”

“I'm not asking.”

Roy laughs, but he slides in any way, military regulations and meddlesome nurses be damned. They’ll be fine, Riza thinks; the nurses aren’t known to be particularly alert past midnight. Besides, Roy is probably sensible enough to get out before dawn, and if he’s not, he’ll probably charm or bribe his way out somehow. She’s not normally so cavalier about breaking the rules, but Roy deserves a night of proper rest, at least. It’s the least she can do after all he’s done for her.

“If you say so.”

“I didn’t,” Riza insists, stifling a yawn. She’s so tired that she thinks she might fall asleep while talking. “Get some rest, sir.”

“You too, Hawkeye,” he says, yawning as he pulls the miserable excuse of a blanket over them both. “Sleep well.”

Riza feels the ghost of a kiss on her temple, before her world becomes blissfully dark.

[shortnotsweet]

Hello, your fiveya pride and prejuice had me on my knees. Everything you have writing for the umbrella academy is so nice, this fandom should be thankfull you are here making gold content. I'm not very creative and I still dont know which kind of prompts you would like, but the last au gave me some Elizabeth Swan vibes, so maybe you could do a Fiveya Pirates of the Caribbean Au? Whatever you make I'm sure will be wonderfull :)

It’s 1732, and Governor Reginald Hargreeves and his two adopted daughters, accompanied by the family butler, Pogo, are sailing to Port Royal aboard HMS Crown when they come across a shipwreck. The lone survivor of the tragedy is a young boy, shaking and shell-shocked. A sympathetic Pogo begs Reginald to allow him to take him in - Pogo himself will rear and provide for the child out of his own wages.

Vanya clutches the railing and looks out into the wreckage, into jagged mountains of burning wood obscured by ink black plumes of smoke that cast a ghostly silhouette against the dreary sky and the great gray sea, and can’t take her eyes off of it. It’s a tragedy, with glowing embers peeking through the remains of the ship, keeping it alive and drowning in the water, and Vanya is fascinated.

I do not want to know what transpired here, she thinks. She doesn’t need to know, anyway - it looks like a wasteland, like something writhing and nearly dead, and then her father takes her by the shoulders and pulls her away.

The boy is raised in a fine household, alongside Reginald’s two young daughters, both of whom are handsome, intelligent, and composed. His truest and most constant friend, though, is Vanya.

The Boy starts out as a Will Turner of sorts, only more confident and living in relative comfort, except with the knowledge that he is an outsider even among orphans, and a survivor of something terrible. He longs to go back.

By 1742, the boy is merely fifteen and already deemed an academic prodigy in a vast array of scientific, mathematical, mechanical and historical studies.

By the end of 1742, he’s gone, vanished into the night and headed for the sea. Vanya, not for the first time in her life, is alone.

Years later, she’s grown into a beautiful yet confined woman. During a botched proposal, Vanya faints, due to a combination of heat, anxiety, and a too-tight corset, plummeting into the harbor below, only to be rescued by a mysterious man

Surprise y’all guess who it is

Five and his crew are under a curse that renders them undead corpses under the moonlight, burdened with immortality. Idk why he’s cursed, ig he just got up to a lot of pirate shit lmao. The gold of his father’s pocket watch is key to breaking this curse, and he’s returned to Port Royal after all these years to retrieve it, after he gave it to Vanya for safekeeping the day before he abandoned the Hargreeves household to rejoin the life of piracy

She agrees, of course, but he is soon confronted by both Reginald and Leonard, backed by the Navy, on account of 1) being a pirate and 2) trespassing and in order to safely escape he takes Vanya hostage

In his time away, Five has become captain of the dreaded Academy, the ship that his own father used to command before the wreck. Vanya initially disapproves of his life choices because he may be older now and like damn ok, but 1) hygiene 2) the ethical ambiguity of piracy and 3) you left me dude without warning ,, tf is up with that?

Cue childhood friends reconnecting in really awkward circumstances + maybe Stockholm syndrome

Luther, Ben, Klaus, and Diego are members of his crew. While Diego is a fantastic swordsman, Ben has a connection with sea monsters that allows him to dissuade nearby creatures from bothering their ship. Klaus is a mystic they picked up along the coast who can communicate with the dead - it’s through him that they learn the specifics of the curse.

Five glances down at her, sleeves rolled above his forearms, his hair dripping saltwater over his brow. “The Romans did it, didn’t they?” Honor among thieves is how the saying goes. “They encouraged it, actually, especially in children. Stealing. Steal from your enemies, steal from your neighbors, steal from your friends.”

At this, Vanya’s eyes narrow. “I wouldn’t steal from my friends.”

Five shrugs.

“It builds character,” he says, “and it builds world skills. If you’re a thief, then you’re fast, resourceful, and, most importantly, you’re still alive. That’s helpful. It can be a good thing, to be a thief.”

“The greatest empire of all time, after Britain, just a whole lot of thieves?”

“That’s Rome, then, a bunch of thieves. The empire essentially stole its own foundation from other civilizations, you know? Arches and aqueducts and art - even the Republic was based on direct democracy.” He leans back and looks at her from under his lids. The floor below them shifts and sways along with the rhythm of the sea, and Vanya leans against the mast to keep her horizon line steady.

“So you’re a history buff now?”

“I always have been,” Five says defensively. “Math is just more exciting. You don’t need to get caught up with the Romans anyway,” Five laughs. “We’re pirates.”

“I suppose I need to find a way to make myself useful, then?” Vanya crosses her arms, squinting under the white hot sun. “Be helpful.” Do as the Romans do.

“No, of course not,” Five says quickly, uneasy, bitter. “You didn’t join the crew, remember? You were kidnapped.”

Days into her kidnapping on the high seas, Vanya ditched her heavy ass dress for a practical pair of trousers and tied her hair up. The sun smiles down on them in a thousand yard stare, reflecting white off the crests of the waves that jostle the ship further away from land, and her white skin has already shown signs of browning. She can breathe, though, better and easier than she’s ever breathed in her entire life

The ocean never ends, but Vanya can see something flickering on the horizon, something that looms across the skyline and drags the sky down to meet it. It feels like hope, like dreams once dashed in her girlhood, and now that it has come out of hiding, unclothed and unabashed under an impossible white sun, Vanya can’t stop looking.

The Academy is still being pursued by the Royal Navy, and Five can’t just return Vanya bc they're not only on the run but they’ve got shit to do, aka curse-breaking shit. Plus, he really, really doesn’t want to

And deep down he can tell that she doesn’t want to either

“But you like it here, don’t you,” he accuses her, hard and fast because he knows she’ll be honest, and the strategist in him wants to size the queen, wants to take her home. “You were miserable back there,” Five reminds her, his own eagerness a tangible thing to his ears. “Reginald made you miserable. Jenkins made you miserable, hell, even Allison made you miserable.” Vanya’s gaze remains unblinking, but the corner of her mouth twitches ever so slightly, her lower lip dragging it down. The sight of it gives him pause, and he wants to stop for a moment, wants to apologize for it, but the conqueror in him leers in approval and he’s plowed too forward, too far already. “You wanted to leave, every second of every day. That’s what you told me,” Five reaches forward to take her by the shoulders, gently crowding her against the railing, and she looks up and into his face, dwarfed by his height. “You’re free now, you’re here. Reginald can’t get to you. Why would you want to go back?”

You’re free now. There’s nothing for you there, he tries to say, and she must get this, because her eyes go alight, just for a second, and her lip curls into a snarl.

The thing is, she’s much happier here, with Five and his crew and a great, endless sea, but she remembers Allison all too vividly, remembers that she left her alone without warning. Vanya knows that it’s like to be left behind, and the thought of Allison alone with only their father for company strikes something hollow and sinking into her chest, something like dread

“I don’t want to go back,” she snaps, harsher than he expected, and he lets go of her. “Of course I don’t.”

You think I want to go back to corsets and Reginald’s voice in every hallway of that old, evil house, and Leonard crowding me everywhere, acting like I’ve already said yes, and this stench of absence that follows me wherever I go.

Oh, she realizes, of course he doesn’t.

“Then don’t.”

Vanya glares at him, hard and herself, and he can see the betrayal sink into her face and settle like silt at the bottom of a glass.

“It’s because we’re family,” she says, and the fifteen-year-old in Five finds himself enraged because Vanya’s family is supposed to be here, with him.

“I need to see her again,” Vanya enunciates carefully, forming every word with a nervous kind of fear, like she thinks he won’t understand, and Five’s anger dissipates almost as quickly as it had risen.

They’re going to break that curse, and Five will be a real boy (man) again. Allison won’t be alone, because her sister will come back for her (just as Five came back for Vanya). They’ll all have real, red, beating hearts, and Five will have Vanya for himself and Vanya will have one thing all her own - she has an entire ocean to conquer and no regrets

For once, Vanya has a choice, and it’s a pirate's life for her

[guessmonsta]

BITCH IM BACK AND READY FOR CHRISTMAS Starting out with some headcanons?? So tell me what you think ur fave boys fave Christmas songs are because I love ur playlists that you made I still listen to them lmao

I’M BACK IT’S MY FAVORITE SEASON I’M IN A CAFE WITH A LARGE SUGAR COOKIE HOT COCOA ITS SNOWING + I’M LIVING (Also why just my favorites when I can do them all??? Same thing???)

Daichi Sawamura: Last Christmas - George Michael

This was the only song his mother used to play around Christmas time when he was younger, so it’s stuck with him throughout the years. He remembers making lots of jokes about the lyrics when he was younger, but finds it to be charming, now. 

Sugawara Koushi: Have Yourself A Merry Little Christmas - Frank Sinatra

He absolutely loves this song, and he has no idea why. Sometimes, he’ll find himself listening to it in July, just because he can. It makes him want to steal a glass of expensive red wine off of his parents alcohol table and drink it out on the balcony on Christmas Eve, which he has done, by the way. 

Asahi Azumane: N/A 

Surprisingly, he’s the only one on the list that actually doesn’t like Christmas. It’s not because he hates joy, and it’s not because of the fact that both his parents are Buddhist, but he hates it because every year before winter break, Sugawara has the stupid idea to dress him up as Jesus and crucify him to the volleyball net. He does it willingly, but that doesn’t mean that he technically enjoys it. 

Nishinoya Yuu: Carol of the Bells - Trans-Siberian Orchestra

Thing is, he actually doesn’t know what the song is even called. When asked what his favorite Christmas song is, he resorts to just aggressively humming. Because he doesn’t know the name, and none of his friends know what he’s doing, he has no clue how to find the song and actually listen to it. 

Tanaka Ryuunosuke: Rocking Around The Christmas Tree - Trap Remix 

He isn’t a fan of the way old music sounds, and that’s what Christmas music is built off, essentially. But when Nishinoya showed him this song at practice one day, he found it to be absolutely hysterical. Truth be told, he probably enjoys it more for the meme than he does the actual musical value. 

Kageyama Tobio: N/A 

Christmas was always viewed as a solely romantic holiday in his household, and with his parents always being off at their respective jobs and ignoring the holiday as a whole, for a long time, Kageyama forgot it even existed. The only Christmas song he really knows of is Jingle Bells. 

Hinata Shouyou: The Chipmunk Song - Alvin and the Chipmunks

His adoration of this song came from something like a Stockholm Syndrome. Natsu has a small, Christmas tree ornament that plays the song on repeat for however many times you crank the dial, and she adores it. So, from the moment she wakes up, to the moment she goes to bed, the entire house is filled with the cursed song. Hinata has considered, on multiple occasions, throwing it out his bedroom window or breaking it with a hammer, but like most things, Hinata warmed up to it eventually, whether he actually wanted to or not. 

Tsukishima Kei: Little Drummer Boy, Peace On Earth - Bing Crosby and David Bowie

He has a really specific, pretentious music taste, and like hell he’s letting it falter, even during the holidays. He’s not even sure if he likes it because it’s a good song, or because David Bowie is one of the singers. 

Yamaguchi Tadashi: Oh Holy Night - Bastille 

Sure, he’s a fan of the original, choir version of this song, but he much prefers an indie/alternative twist on it. Although the song talks about Christmas in a more religious way, he doesn’t really understand the lyrics all that much, but likes the way that it’s sung, regardless.

Oikawa Tooru: Baby it’s Cold Outside 

He’s aware that the lyrics are a bit unacceptable for today’s society, but nothing is stopping him from wanting to sing a duet to this song with literally anyone. He’s too nervous to ask, and even then he’s sure none of his friends would comply, so he ends up singing, (more like vomiting) both parts of the song on his car ride to and from school. 

Iwaizumi Hajime: N/A

He never really celebrated Christmas as a kid, his mother being Muslim and not really knowing much about it herself, so he was kind of sheltered from the whole idea of it all. Even though he doesn’t know much, every Christmas Eve he’ll buy some beautifully decorated sugar cookies for him and his mom, because even if they don’t celebrate the holiday, the cookies are to die for. 

Bokuto Koutarou: Rudolph The Red Nosed Reindeer

Well, it’s not necessarily his favorite, but every year when his family gets together for the holidays, it’s the only song his younger cousins tend to sing, so it inevitably gets stuck in his head. Not that he minds, really, the kids crack up when he chimes in to sing the silly words in between each verse of the song. 

Akaashi Keiji: Anything by Frank Sinatra 

He knows that not all Frank Sinatra songs are Christmas related, but he’s not very big on Christmas, either. He likes the classy vibe his music gives off, it reminds him of city streets lined with snow and the warmth of speakeasy cafes.  

Kuroo Tetsurou: N/A 

If you were to ask Kuroo what he thinks about Christmas, he would tell you that it used to be a holiday meant for worshiping Jesus Christ, a religious figure. But now, a bunch of Asian kids who’s ancestors fought off Christian mercenaries in the 15th century, and who know nothing about Christianity themselves, are crying about wanting gifts and things for a Christian holiday. He doesn’t hate the holiday, really, but his “favorite song” is making Capitalist jokes all month. “Merry Capitalism! Shoot! I meant Happy Consumerism! Nope, that’s not it either!”

Kenma Kozume: N/A 

He probably can’t even name one Christmas song, except maybe, “that one about the snowman who smokes.” He’s only into Christmas because he’s a fan of Starbucks’ seasonal drinks, to be honest. (The Snickerdoodle hot cocoa is his favorite!)

Lev Haiba: Sleigh Ride - Amy Grant 

He’s another one who isn’t really sure why he enjoys the song, he just does. His family doesn’t even celebrate the holiday- his mother being Russian and celebrating The Epiphany instead of Christmas. He still thinks Christmas is cute, though, and probably buys his friends those fifty-cent candy canes that the school issues before breaks begins. 

Ushijima Wakatoshi: N/A 

His family was never really big on Christmas– his mother is very Buddhist, and his father lives across the ocean, so he’s never really been exposed to the traditions. Although, he finds that The Trans Siberian Orchestra’s rendition of Carol of the Bells gets stuck in his head around December every year, but isn’t really aware that it’s a Christmas song. 

Tendou Satori: Little Drummer Boy, Peace On Earth - Bing Crosby and David Bowie

Along with Queen, David Bowie is another one of his absolute favorite artists, so there’s no way he couldn’t stan this song. He gets really offended when his friends tell him they’ve never herd of it before. 

Semi Eita: Yule Shoot Your Eye Out - Fall Out Boy

He’s secretly, not so secretly, still an emo edge lord, so for the entire month of December, he has this song on repeat. Some other honorable mentions for him are Merry Christmas, Kiss My Ass, by All Time Low and My Chemical Romances rendition of All I Want For Christmas Is You.