#holiday snippet

[neon-kazoo]

A Very Special Lighting

The hero awoke with a groan. Their head was pounding, their body was freezing, and something was very, very wrong.

The first thing they noticed was an offensively loud countdown from what sounded like a cacophony of voices.

They(?) yelled excitedly, “THREE!…TWO!…”

The second thing that they noticed was that they were not horizontal—how one would typically wake up in the morning. Instead, they were vertical, and something was now insultingly bright for what they presumed to be dawn.

“ONE!!!”

Roaring cheers followed closely with the end of the suspicious countdown. Hero had barely had time to consider covering their ears before another one of their senses was assaulted, this time by the onslaught of light. They automatically blinked the blurs out of their eyes and were met with starbursts of twinkling yellow.

Were those…Christmas lights?

All their limbs were lost in the glow. They tried to move but found that they couldn’t. With what little sensation they held, they surmised there were some kind of restraints keeping their legs and arms spread like a starfish.

No, not a starfish.

A star.

Below them laid hundreds of green branches that stretched out to the edges of the square in the city’s center. Hundreds more dots (people?) lined around the ginormous skirt.

They were stuck on top of a giant Christmas tree.

And, if they weren’t mistaken,…they were the topper.

As if their day(…night?) couldn’t get any better, one aforementioned dot started to enlarge, making the flight up several stories to their level. They groaned in realization as the figure approached.

Hero only knew one dastardly mastermind who could fly.

Villain stopped to float only a few feet in front of them, greeting gleefully, “Hero! I’m so glad you could make it to the lighting ceremony! This is a very special day for lots of children, you know.”

Hero gaped, though they doubted their face could be seen with the intensity of the light source behind and around them.

Since when did Villain care about children?

And more importantly, since when did Villain have a beard?!

Fluffy white hair flowed down from their chin, and it took Hero a moment to connect the cherry red suit and matching floppy hat, not to mention the extra padding surrounding their midsection that looked far too impractical to be used as protection in a fight.

Villain was dressed as Santa.

Villain was dressed as Santa.

Their head pulsed again with pain. Feelings of confliction flooded their thoughts as they watched the joy swim below them.

They knew they should be focusing on taking down Villain but…would that…(and they couldn’t believe they were thinking this) ruin it?

They asked the only question they could think of, muttering the words through ridiculously chapped lips and chattering teeth, “What- what time is it?”

“Midnight, silly!”

Right. They were supposed to be watching this on TV right now, from the warmth of their heated blanket with a homemade mug of hot chocolate. As much as they would have loved to participate in the ceremony, this was…definitely not what they would have had in mind. A plan of their own would have involved a lot more marshmallows, and a lot less Villain.

“Are you…gonna let me down?”

“I’m afraid I don’t remember seeing that particular request on your Christmas list. Send me another letter, and I’ll see what I can do.”

Villain bellowed a rolling laugh that sounded suspiciously close to a classic ‘ho-ho-ho’. Before Hero could even begin to think of a retort to what they had suggested, Villain was already moving far enough away for them to deem the effort futile.

A bewildered Hero could only watch as they took off, having mounted a sled-looking contraption that they carried with them into the sky, led by several floating deer-looking animals, the nose of one of which was adorned with a small glowing red dot. The unmistakable sound of jingling bells followed.

Villain exclaimed merrily as they flew away into the night, “Merry Christmas, City!”

Apparently, even villains could enjoy the holidays.

Though, if you asked Hero, Villain was enjoying this one a little too much.

[toyouhellohowareyou]

20 and Legend?

😘 Prompt game!

20 is Alone, Finally

***

The Chain, and Legend hated that name, and hated Four for coming up with it, and hated Hyrule's giggling every time someone said it, and hated—

And wow! Okay! Yeah! Maybe he was in a mood, huh? Even for him.

The Chain had been together for five days and Legend was slowly losing his mind about it.

There wasn't anything in particular wrong, anything specific anyone had done. It was just everything. It was so many people being around all the time, it was every task taking longer, it was waiting on people and being on their schedules, it was having to be switched on all the time in case someone talked to him, it was that they were strangers. Eight exhausting strangers meant someone was around all the time.

Fortunately for the sake of his increasingly threadbare nerves and patience, they had stopped early today to avoid arriving at whatever town Warriors was directing them to at an inconvenient hour. Which meant even with the endless cycle of chores and maintenance and 'getting to know each other' horrors, he finally had some time to fuck off.

And fuck off he did.

Alone, finally.

For about forty glorious minutes before Wind found him.

"Hey Legend, you busy?"

Din give him strength.

"Yes. " Legend was busy not doing whatever the fuck this was.

Wind decided he was not, "Can I borrow your fire rod? Wars said I can't use his."

He didn't want to know what that was for. "No."

"Lame. Hey, Time said he had an ocarina, did you want to come bug him to show us how to play something?"

Legend was going to kill a man. Legend was going to kill a child.

"No."

"Aren't you bored? Everyone is being so boring."

"No, Wind," Legend bit off, trying not to alienate the entire group he was now stuck with less than a week after meeting them by tearing off the head of the team baby, "I am not bored. I was having a nice time not being in each other's pockets for a single fucking hour."

"But it's great? Isn't it amazing! Meeting heroes from all over!"

Legend just glared at Wind and attempted to set him on on fire with his mind. Wind remained stubbornly un-immolated, and instead squinted back at him for a long moment.

"Oh, you're one of those people," the kid said with the deepest disgust.

"What the fuck do you mean��"

"It's fine, accommodations must be made," Wind waved haughtily, "I'll go tell Captain Teamwork we need to leave you your lonely horizon staring time or you'll murder us all in our sleep."

And before Legend could formulate an answer to that Wind was gone again.

[yuesya]

Hagaike shifts nervously in his seat, curiosity and anticipation flickering in his chest.

As a swordsmith who is responsible for creating weapons for demon slayers to use, there are many swords that Hagaike has forged over the years. He is the son of a long line of swordsmiths, each of whom had worked tirelessly to shape different swords from the sun-blessed ores of the Sunlight Mountain.

It is both a duty and an honor to forge swords for demon slayers.

And it is even more of an honor to be chosen to forge a sword for a Pillar.

Technically, from what Hagaike has heard, the one that he was commissioned to create a weapon for wasn’t actually a Pillar. But this was the mysterious demon slayer who’d been the one to kill Upper Moon Three, a feat that hasn’t been accomplished in… like, ever!

And if the rumors were true? They hadn’t even used a nichirin blade at the time.

How amazing was that?

It’s an honor to be deemed skillful enough to create a weapon for such an individual. Hagaike was confident that the sword he created would serve them well in their future battles.

“Apologies for the wait, Hagaike-san.”

“Kocho-sama!” Hagaike straightens, and bows towards the Insect Pillar who’s just appeared by the doorway. “It’s no trouble, I haven’t been waiting long.”

How surprising. Hagaike hadn’t expected to see the Insect Pillar herself on his trip to deliver his sword… but maybe he should’ve expected it, considering that it’s the Butterfly Estate that he’s meeting the mysterious new demon slayer in.

Following a few steps behind Kocho-sama, there is another person who enters the room.

The first thing that strikes Hagaike about her is how young she is. This girl… she looks like she’s around Tokito-sama’s age. And her appearance–

The white hair reminds him of Oyakata-sama’s wife, Amane-sama. Pale skin, delicate features. If one were to tell Hagaike that this girl was the young daughter of a noble family, Hagaike would believe them. Demon slayer is not the first descriptor that comes to mind when seeing her.

But the most arresting feature about her is her eyes. Dark blue eyes that almost seem to glow with a faint red-violet light around the pupils, in a way that sends an inexplicable chill down Hagaike’s spine for no reason at all.

The swordsmith swallows roughly.

“… waiting for you. This is Gojo Shiki, who was just recruited by Oyakata-sama as the newest member of the Demon Slayer Corps for her feat of killing Upper Moon Three.”

Hagaike snaps back to attention, and bows. “It’s an honor to meet you, Gojo-sama.”

“Just ‘Gojo-san’ is fine,” the young girl’s voice is soft and toneless, but somehow lilting all the same. “You’re the swordsmith I was told to wait for?”

“I-I am.” Hastily, Hagaike retrieves the cloth-wrapped bundle that he’s carrying, and carefully presents it to the demon slayer.

Gojo Shiki accepts the weapon from him, allowing the cloth to fall onto the ground.

Her fingers close around the hilt, and Hagaike cannot help the way that he leans forward eagerly. Aside from their demon-slaying properties, there is another unique aspect to nichirin swords –when first drawn by a wielder, they will change into a distinct, different color.

What kind of color would the sword of the one who’d killed Upper Moon Three turn into? Hagaike is dying to know.

…

“… Why isn’t the color changing at all?!”

[lux-aurea-lunae]

Prompt 19 - Holidays

Hero resigned themself to spending the holidays alone. As usual. They didn’t particularly care, since they usually worked instead of celebrating anyway.

Their phone buzzed with a text. It was from Villain, who Hero had given their number to in case of emergencies.

I’m coming over. You better have enough food for me or else.

Hero sighed with exasperated fondness, and made their way home.

They were reclined on their couch when they heard the window slide open, letting in a draft of frigid winter air. “Hey, Villain,” Hero said without looking at them. The window slid closed, and Villain stomped to knock the snow off their boots, in Hero’s living room, further proving that they were as uncivilized as Hero thought. Hero felt the couch shift as Villain sat down next to them.

“Take your boots off. You’re making my floor wet,” Hero ordered tiredly. They heard Villain get up and kick their boots off by the window they entered through, then soft footsteps to the kitchen.

“You don’t have a single decoration up.” They opened the fridge. “You don’t have any food either.” Hero could hear the disappointed frown in their voice.

“I wasn’t planning on having any guests over,” Hero said pointedly. Truthfully, they didn’t mind that Villain chose to stop by. Even when they stole Hero’s wallet to make them pay for takeout. Hero could’ve sworn that Villain had complained about their extended family yesterday, though. “Why are you here? Don’t you have family to visit?”

“I do, but I didn’t want you to be alone on the holidays.”

“I don’t celebrate any holidays.” They gestured to their desolate apartment.

“Still.”

Hero narrowed their eyes suspiciously. “You… just wanted an excuse to get out of it.”

Villain shrugged nonchalantly. “Can you blame me? They’re all annoying and I hardly know them anyways.” They smiled. “I’d much rather be here with you.”

Hero would blame the frankness of Villain’s voice on what they said next. “If I had to spend the holidays with anyone, I guess I would choose you too.”

Villain stayed over for the rest of the evening, turning on a movie that neither of them paid attention to for background noise as they ate. Hero was about to get up to clean the mess they’d made, but Villain grabbed their wrist before they could get off the couch, pulling them back down.

“Just leave it for now. You can clean up later,” they murmured. Hero decided that if they were going to be forced to stay here, then they might as well make themself comfortable. If they achieved that by leaning back and resting their head on Villain’s shoulder, then promptly falling asleep there, no one would believe Villain anyway.

[velcrodoesstuffsometimes]

Hero and Villain on chirstmas!! [2]

Part 1!

Major fluff ahead ^^

-

When hero wakes up, they're tied up with chirstmas tree lights and blind folded with wrapping paper.

Okay, so a normal Wednesday and a cheap kidnapping.

They move to see if they can escape, also to see. How easy it is to escape. Hero barely squirms before the lights slide off with ease. Which tells hero two things: one, it's villain who kidnapped them and two, villain just wanted to be an inconvenience.

After they easily escape the shitty binds, they remove the blindfold and take in their surroundings.

It's bright and colorful, a tree in the corner of the room, soft brown couches, decorated to the brim. On the coffee table are a few gadets that very clearly do not work, a speaker, a candle, amd two stockings.

If hero didn't know any better they'd day that they're in a living room. But surely villain isn't that stupid!

...right...?

Heros question is quickly answered when Villain steps into the room with two bowls of soup and hot coco balancing on their head.... oh nevermind its magic holding the cups up, a soft white glow around the cups.

"Hero! You're up! Hopefully I didn't hit you in the head super hard, how do you feel?" Villain asks, placing the soup on the coffee table. Hero looks at the kitchen where villain emerged from.

This dumbass really brought hero to their apartment...

"Uh.. I'm good... I guess- hey- um, so is this your aparment?" Hero cuts right to the chase, curious and intrigued that someone can be so dumb... especially a villain! To be fair though, it is their Villain.

"..."

"..." hero raises a brow.

"..."

"...this is your apartment, isn't it...?" It was more of a statement than a question. Hero glances at the broken gadets on the coffee table that look like villain was trying to fix.

Villain let's out a weak, nervous laugh and hero audibly groans in pure disappointment. They roll their head back and finally get up from the floor, sitting next to villain on the couch.

"I'm sorry! I was feeling festive and I forgot j had you in my car! When I remembered you were there, I was already home! I wasn't gonna leave you in the car, that's mean!"

The hero cups the villains face, the touch is gentle, tender, and firm all at once. They bring villain close, gaze hard.

"You are a villain! You are supposed to be mean! How did you even get this job! You can't build a trap to save your life, litterally might I add, you get caught in your own traps, I've seen you trip over your own feet, and you don't know how to even fix a weapon!" Hero scolds, but there's no hatred or cruelty behind the words. Instead, it's full of something the villain can't quite understand. Fondness? Maybe even appreciation.

Villains stupidity does make heros job easier...

Villain looks up at hero and gives a nervous look. It's not quite a smile but it's not a frown either, it's in between. They giggle softly and place their hands over heros, who's hands are still cupping their face.

"I know, I know... but I do make your job easier, and villainy pays pretty well so honestly, I get paid for being dumb, hehe!" they giggle softly at the end. Hero smiles fondly.

"You wasted christmas lights on a shitty kidnapping, and wrapping paper as a blindfold? That's all you have?"

"Well I had my apartment in traps but I fell into one and decided maybe I should take them down. Eat your soup before it gets cold!"

"Its not poisoned is it?"

"What poison am I even supposed to use?"

"...nevermind..."

The two laugh and settle back on the couch. Villain plays some soft music, laufey for the festive mood. The goddess version of the bewitched album.

Hero looks around a little more as they eat their soup. The house is warm and decorated with a lot of plants, there's a cat resting on a cat tree, and hero can see the failed traps that villain got caught in.

"On a serious note, hero," villain begins, their voice a lot softer and serious than normal "i know you don't really celebrate these kinds of things ever since you lost your parents, but if you'd like... you could maybe... celebrate with me?" Villain asks shyly, blushing as they do.

Hero smiles at the shy tone in villains voice, turning their head to face Villain. The scene is rather romantic the hero realizes... the music, the food, the decorations, the warm air, the dimly lit apartment, and even the cat.

"We can put our work aside, just one more time..." the villain adds on after a few seconds of hero not saying anything.

"These 'one more time''s are really adding up." The Hero says fondly, villain doesn't think hero has ever spoken to them in any tone other than fondness. "But, in any case, I'd like that. I'd love it actually... maybe it won't hurt to try to celebrate again" Heros voice is soft, but a different kind of soft...

It's the kind of soft you'd use when talking to an alley cat, the soft that parents use on their kids when talking about their childhoods, the soft that makes you reminisce on the past, the soft that's full of memory.

The best kind of soft.

Villain smiles brightly and hugs hero tightly. "Great! Cause I bought you a few gifts! You should invite your siblings, spread the joy with them too! I'll cook, I can make some gnarly ass mac n' cheese!" Villain states excitedly and watches hero pull out their phone.

Villain didn't even take heros phone during that "kidnapping."

---

By the end of the night, villains apartment is full of people who are asleep on the couches or one guest room with fluffy blankets and large pillows.

The apartment smells like peppermint, hot coco, and gingerbread. The TV, which has been playing soft christmas music, is the only light in the whole house.

But where are Hero and Villain?

Cuddled on villains bed with soft smiles, full bellies, and surrounded by the people they love the most.

Especially loving eachother.

[reyolfx]

destiel fic excerpt - claire kinda tricks dean into going to pride with her

okay i've been in a massive block lately for any writing whatsoever but i'm TRYING to get back into it. mentally i'm just not really anywhere but i would like to be anchored back down into writing mode.

so here's a little bit of the destiel fic i have in progress. it's a dean focused post-15x19 (lol what finale) fix-it that deals a lot with dean's grief. this particular excerpt is quiiiiite a ways in, cas has been dead for almost a year at this point (happy destiel ending guaranteed fam). dean is still absolutely grieving but he's been doing a lot of work.

(warning dean does use the word queer here in a way that's like, halfway between accepting and internalised homophobia - it's not made out to be a big deal in this but i thought it would mention anyways)

***

"I'm not a parade guy, Claire, and I sure as hell ain't a flag waving queer. I'm not - I'm not this." Dean gestures vaguely to the revelry and upbeat atmosphere around him. He feels like a fish on a bike.

Claire shrugs with her whole body. "I don't give two shits what you think you are or aren't, grandpa. Every baby gay needs to attend their first Pride, it's like a right of passage or whatever."

Dean gawks at her. "What the fuck," he sputters. "Baby- did you just call me grandpa and a baby gay in the same sentence? What the fuck is that?"

Claire rolls her eyes like Dean's a fucking idiot. He feels like one right now, in his jeans and flannel with a knife tucked into his waistband, surrounded by rainbow everything and kids making out in those weird napkin tops that don't pass their navels.

She says, "exactly what it sounds like, loser. You're old, but you finally had your big gay realization, it's fresh and shit, erego, baby gay. Reborn a queer, hallelujah."

Dean stares at her like she's speaking another language, but he latches on to one bit that's plain. "Ain't that fresh," he mutters.

Because. Because it's not like Dean never had an inkling he was into dudes as well as chicks before. Not like he never had any tiny lightbulb moments while drooling over Doctor Sexy or being 16 and watching a hunter in his 20s clean a gun in front of him. It's just that every time that lightbulb flicked on, Dean had been very quick and very thorough in burying it 6 feet under like it was a body in a grave after a salt'n burn. Expert, even. Like he was was with real graves. He could go years without that lightbulb resurfacing, and he could forget. He could flirt with women and forget, kiss women and forget, take women back to his motel room when he was 24, haunting small towns all alone, and forget. It was easy. Because women's waists and women's hair and women's voices made it easy. When they pitched their words low and came on to him with confidence and a shadow, a daintier echo of violence than what he was used to, it was easy. What would have been the point in—in anything else?

Nothing. No point.

Until his best friend told him he loved him and his graveyard of buried lightbulbs was flooded, upturned, exposed. Electrified. He sees the bones of every man he ever desired like they're cartoons sticking their fingers into sockets.

Bzzzt. That hunter with his rolled up sleeves, exposed forearms, cleaning his gun while chatting easily to John. Dean sitting there, trying his best to be a part of the conversation, puff himself up like he belonged at the table, 16 in a too-big jacket, a real hunter, a real man, dragging his eyes away from the hunter's hands again and again until he could unfocus them entirely with the beers his dad let him sip.

Bzzzt. A shop teacher of his, once, during a 9th grade stint somewhere in Nebraska. Mr. Callaghan. Showing the class how to use a circular saw, sparks flying, Dean's eyes wide, mouth a little dry.

Bzzzt. Benny in purgatory. Slicing and hacking his way through monsters to get Dean to Cas before they could escape. Dean's weird, twisted up, sickening feelings of - I love you because you know my secret. Because you know I love someone else even though I won't let my own self know. I love you because you have big hands and a big heart and an appetite for blood and because I can bully you into staying, searching, endlessly, for the one. The one I love the most. I love you until I find him and then I still love you a little because you helped make that possible and because you did it for me.

Bzzzt. Cas. Castiel who walked into a barn, sparks again (maybe men are electric and women are grounding, or - fuck, who knows, maybe sparks are just hot) a few days after Dean rose from the dead. Castiel who walked towards him with steady eyes of blue fire and withstood every act of violence Dean could commit against him (or so he thought). Castiel who saw into his soul, maybe not even into it, just the whole scope of it, macro and micro. Cas who shoved him into walls, laid hands over his mouth and a knee between his thighs (accidental?), Cas who spoke to him vulnerably one moment and then disappeared the next, Cas who stared into his eyes and made Dean's chest feel molten, his tongue feel heavy. Cas who wore a stupid trench coat, even when given a fresh start, an opportunity for reinvention. A trench coat Dean grew to hate because of the sheer amount of times he imagined pulling it gently off the angel's shoulders. It always stayed. Dean could burn that fucking coat.

He kept that coat. He carried it. He misses it.

Dean comes to in the middle of a fucking pride parade with the desperate, overwhelming urge to press a coat that he no longer has into his nose. He needs—

"Earth to fuckin' Dean Winchester," Claire is saying, eyebrow cocked kinda like Cas, which is weird because he doesn't remember Jimmy ever doing that. He guesses he didn't know Jimmy very long though. Maybe he's just seeing Cas wherever he can manage it.

"Sorry, kid," he says lamely. No follow up. He feels the hole and it aches and aches and he needs to get a hold on it before it engulfs him.

"Dean," Claire says gently, and she sounds like she knows where he is. Like she can find him back here among his grief that is so far removed from, and unrelated to the situation.

He looks at her and forces a grin that cracks his face. Painfully. Half rolls his eyes.

"C'mon kid, show me the ropes then," he says. He's here now. Probably wont ever be again, but he's with Claire.

And he loves Claire. Because she reminds him of his not so long ago self—young and angsty and passionate and angry and full of mistakes past, present and future—and because she reminds him of Cas. Her face, her independence, her stubbornness, her smile. Because Cas loves (loved, Christ) her, even if her feelings towards him might be more convoluted.

She doesn't let him off easy, a trait she kind of shares with both of them.

"Dean... I miss him too".

Years ago, maybe even just months ago, Dean would have rolled his eyes and changed the subject. He would have deflected: "so how do you get on one of those floats" or "why is there so much mesh here" or maybe mouthed the words to You Make Me Feel (Mighty Real) right along with the drag queens in the parade without even realising it.

But now—

"Claire—I can't. Not if we wanna— not if today's gonna be any good."

His voice sounds far away and raw and he feels tears in his eyes even still. Even still after all these months. He wants. Wants Cas back so hard it scalds his insides.

Claire's mouth sets hard and she nods once. There's a grim-feeling cloud around the two of them, a black hole in the middle of this rainbow candy-land ass street block on a sunny day.

And then Claire scares it away. Physically waves it off like she can see it and then plasters a grin on her face that's almost conspiring. She can rally, Dean'll give her that. It's not as if Claire completely fits here either—she looks more like him than she does most of the other revelers. Black tank top, red flannel tied around her waist, black shit kickers. Hunter get-up. But she grabs some stickers from a drag queen that's handing them out and slaps one on her chest - it says "I support gay rights and gay wrongs" on it and the circle behind it is striped orange and white and pink. Dean snorts. He doesn't know for sure what that means but he guesses it's probably for lesbians cause he knows everybody gets their own flag in this world. He's learned that through osmosis at group*.

She grabs his hand and slaps another sticker on the back of it. The circle is blue, purple, and pink, and he does know the bi flag, has figured that one out at least. The words in the centre say "oh no, everyone is so hot".

Dean rolls his eyes so hard he almost throws his neck out. "There's no way in hell you think I'm keeping this on," he says.

"You are keeping it on, old man, and if i see you've taken it off I'll take you to the face painting tent and make them give you full bisexual glam." The threatening tone of her voice contrasts too deeply with the contents of that sentence and Dean huffs out a surprised laugh.

"Oh yeah? How do you think you're gonna make that happen?"

"You're not the only one packing here, Winchester."

Dean keeps the sticker on his hand. Stares at it for a minute, then looks all around him, taking in the colour and the joy like a thing that's not used the sun would. A rodent or a worm. Maybe a monster.

"Don't get me wrong but this doesn't really seem like your scene," he says.

Claire shrugs. "I dunno. Maybe a couple years ago I woulda felt the same. Used to think it was all real frivolous and silly y'know?"

She pauses for long enough that Dean's pretty sure the conversation's over. Finally, she speaks again, just a bit quieter: "But, I kinda figure, I can be more than just one thing, right? I can be a hunter and still enjoy some of the nice shit in life. Frivolous and silly is kinda fun."

She's not wrong. Dean doesn't get a lot of moments to be frivolous and silly, but he takes them when he can. Feels like maybe if he'd been born in an different universe he could've known those feelings full time like they were an engrained part of him rather than just fleeting visitors.

Then Claire says, "you're more than one thing, y'know. You're lots of things"

Dean huffs a little laugh and shakes his head, not really sure what he's denying.

"Don't make me give you a whole rundown on your own personality dude. You're not just some workhorse hunter, you got other stuff. Like, gay shit like this doesn't have to be one of your things. But everything's worth a shot once, right?"

He wants to agree. Thinks maybe he'd like to be a lot of things, but everything is kind of blur right now, has been for a while. What are the things he'd like to be? Like to enjoy?

He shakes his head again, not so much denying as delaying.

"Okay Oprah, what got you so wise?"

Claire smirks. She nudges him forward to follow the parade and says, "the internet mostly."

[bluedahlia912]

https://archiveofourown.org/works/62885809/chapters/162213085#workskin

Chapter 2!

[violetfairydust]

WIP Whenever

Thank you to the lovely @endwersed for the tag <3

I haven't had much time to write, but here's a short snippet!

-

The roar rattled every bone in his body and sent a wave of cold down his spine. Before he even had a chance to move, Derek put himself between Stiles and the coven. The woman with the ashy blonde hair stepped forward. Her eyes flicked between Stiles and Derek. A smirk danced on her cherry lips.

“Your presence isn’t welcome here,” Derek growled.

“When is it ever, honey?”

The knot in Stiles’ stomach twisted.

“The woods are the safest place for us,” the quieter, shorter woman muttered.

“I don’t care,” Derek spit. “This isn’t your territory. I’m going to ask you to leave for the last time. And if you don’t, I will rip your throat out with my teeth.”

The blonde leader laughed darkly, the sound reverberating under Stiles’ skin. “I can placate you this once, young one.” The leaves crunched under the steps she took to stand inches from Derek’s face. “But we don’t go down without a fight.” Her eyes fell to his lips. “I’d love to see your teeth up close.”

In a blink, the coven was gone. Derek stood in place while he released a heavy sigh. He didn’t even move when Stiles cleared his throat.

“Thanks,” he murmured.

“What the hell was that?” he barked.

The knot untied itself, allowing Stiles to breathe. It should have scared the shit out of him to hear a werewolf scream at him. After nearly pissing himself coming within inches of vampire fangs, Derek’s upcoming tirade would be a comfort. The unusual beats of his heart came from their proximity.

“It wasn’t my fault.”

By the way Derek spun on the balls of his feet, Stiles had known that was definitely not the right thing to say.

“I didn’t go looking for them. Why are you mad at me?”

“It's not you I'm mad at. Why did they let you come here by yourself? No one patrols alone – especially not a human.” He eyed the bat. “Did you really think that was going to help you?”

“Should I have brought nothing?”

“May as well have. That thing will never hold up against vampires.” He grabbed Stiles by the elbow and dragged him down the hill. “I can’t believe they sent you out here without protection. If you have to go, you go with someone else.”

“Wasn’t it bad luck they were up here?”

“It sure as hell was. I don’t care what your idiot friends think. You’re not coming here alone.”

Was that an offering to patrol with him?

“So next time...”

“There won’t be one. I’m not putting you at risk. Not when you know nothing.”

Stiles scoffed. “Excuse you, I spent hours upon hours researching.”

“Because that’s the same as experience, clearly.”

Laura touched the middle of Stiles’ back. His head whipped around to see her serious eyes.

“Don’t press him right now. He’s not mad at you, he’s mad at the situation. Drop it. You can argue when there aren't bloodsuckers lingering in the woods.” She eyed the bat dubiously. “You really have no chance with that thing.”

“Fine,” he groaned. “Next time I’ll bring garlic mace.”

Derek growled, but Laura cracked a smile.

-

No pressure tags: @renmackree @dear-massacre @seaweed-water @dontcallpanic

[salllzy]

Holiday in Hell. #1

Alastor wasn't one to do the bidding of others, he thrived on making chaos and watching fools trying to make themselves better only to fall back into their vices. Angel Dust was one form of entertainment. Yet after the failed Extermination and yet those who lived in the hotel seemed to think that they were family and that he was part of said family. Truthfully he found the whole idea laughable and ridiculous.

They were not his family, he already had one and it didn't include them. His actual family had no desire to change him, they didn't look at him and find him lacking.

Besides many of them had made it clear that they preferred Lucifer over him, not that he cared about what they thought. But he had been helping a lot longer, he had been around longer. Yet he wasn't going to argue with them, he would have better luck arguing with a wall. They had made their choices, just as he had made his. He was merely respecting their choices. But alas, it seemed as if they didn't respect his. Offers of joining group therapy, redemption activities, family night, sleepovers and joining them for film night. Or movie night as he heard someone call it, film, movie, it didn't matter what it was called. He wasn't going to join them. Still, while they were busy, the news of Sir Pentious being redeemed had lit a fire under the Princess and she was adamant that she could redeem more. So while they were all busy with that? He spent time with his daughter and far away from the hotel. Sarah was happy to be spending time with him, he still kept up his duties, he made sure that the staff got paid on time. Charlie was terrible with money and didn't realise that she needed to pay her workers. It had been a rather disturbing conversation to have with her. She had been adamant that having room and board at the hotel, should be enough. Never mind the fact that they all had different needs, Husk needed a specialised set of brushes, oils and other equipment for his wings and fur.

It had been a battle. But in the end, he had won, not that it meant anything. All of his hard work was slowly being undone and Lucifer tended to side with Charlie. More often than not it caused more problems than what it solved. Still, they created the mess? Then they could clean it up. He had already requested a month off, which had been approved and none of them had looked over what they had signed. So he had packed his bags, grabbed Sarah and dragged her on holiday, or rather he had kidnapped her. Given that she didn't take time off and liked to run herself into the ground, honestly, she was worse than he was and that was saying something. Still, he had an entire month off and no one at the hotel could annoy him or get him to join in activities that he didn't want to join in. He could simply relax and enjoy spending time with his daughter.

[wikiangela]

fuck it friday

tagged by @daffi-990 @giddyupbuck @spotsandsocks

hi!! i'm back lol - well, the craziness at work is done and I'm slowly getting back to writing bc I haven't written in like a week and it's killing me lol (this is gonna sound dramatic but I literally don't feel like myself if I don't write for too long haha) I don't have anything new to share rn, but I figured since it's already december and since some of y'all are sharing Christmas fics, and knowing I likely won't write one this year, I'm gonna shamelessly plug my holiday fake dating fic with 4 Christmases and 6 Christmas chapters actually 😂 (Christmas was a very important time for Buck and Eddie's relationship in this lol) - there's obvi more holidays in this but anyway, here's a snippet of their first Christmas together also, it's been a year since I posted the first chapter and I'm feeling nostalgic lol, this fic is my baby and I love it so much (tho there's so many things I'd change now lol)

[read on Ao3]

___

Turns out, Buck is very much serious about the whole thing, and Christopher finds it hilarious and is eager to play along. Eddie doesn’t have valid arguments not to do it, and it’s not like he doesn’t want to. After another snide comment when talking to his parents, he made his decision. And he already felt this exciting feeling of satisfaction when he told them he’d be bringing someone for Christmas this year – miraculously, Buck and Eddie don’t work on Christmas, and they took an additional day off, so their schedules allow for a three-day trip to Texas. 

So now, it’s Christmas Eve and they’re on their way from the airport to Eddie’s childhood home, and he’s nervous, doubts just starting to seep in. What on earth possessed him to do this? He can’t lie to his family. He can’t pretend to be in love with Buck. What if he really does fall in love with him? What if everything goes to shit? He’s watched enough movies to know it’s a bad idea, but he couldn’t and still can’t bring himself to stop it.

“So.” Eddie says, his voice shaking slightly, as they sit in a cab. “We’re doing this.”

“Yep.” he can hear Buck grin next to him. “Unless you still wanna back out?” he adds quickly. They could still say Buck’s just a friend. No big deal. But Eddie does have this petty desire to stir something up, and this seems perfect. 

“No. It’ll be fine.” he smiles at Buck, and then feels hot when Buck grabs his hand and interlaces their fingers, winking at him. Christopher laughs.

“You’d make a great couple.” he comments. He’s been unusually happy about all of this. He also asked Eddie a few days ago if Eddie loves Buck, which prompted a conversation, but he thinks Chris knows what’s going on now. Eddie doesn’t really know what to think about that.

“Thanks, buddy.” Buck responds excitedly, squeezing Eddie’s hand, and he can’t contain a smile. If not anything else, at least all three of them are going to have a lot of fun.

___

no pressure tags: @elvensorceress @gaydiaz @diazass @thebravebitch @silentxxsoul @shortsighted-owl @eddiebabygirldiaz @arthursdent @diazblunt @911onabc @spagheddiediaz @housewifebuck @gayhoediaz @rogerzsteven @watchyourbuck @monsterrae1 @honestlydarkprincess @underwater-ninja-13 @eowon @exhuastedpigeon @weewootruck @loserdiaz @evanbegins @steadfastsaturnsrings @ladydorian05 @malewifediaz @pirrusstuff @theotherbuckley @911-on-abc @hoodie-buck @wildlife4life @fortheloveofbuddie @nmcggg @diazpatcher @jeeyuns @jesuisici33 @thewolvesof1998 @lover-of-mine @hippolotamus @disasterbuckdiaz @jamespearce9-1-1

[youchangedmedestiel]

Chapter 1 and 2 are kinda written already. So as a little teasing, may I present you THE Cas and Dean involved in that Summer AU fic:

And here's a little snippet:

“Sam! Sammy!” He calls and then he reaches the side with the view on the beach. He spots Sam at the back of the open veranda, playing cards with Jo and Ash. “Sam, Jo, Ash! Let’s get ready to go to the beach.” Dean suggests as his eyes finally scan the room. There’s Chuck, Amara and Gabriel there, so Dean smiles at them. Then his eyes end on the other guy sitting with them. “Hi.” He greets quietly. He doesn’t even know if he heard him because he doesn’t answer, he just smiles back and Dean thinks he never saw something as beautiful as this.

“Dean? You comin’?” Sam calls out. His little brother walked past him and he didn't even realize it until now.

“Huh - yeah!” He says, turning away and following his little brother.  

[the-broken-pen]

“Please,” she whispered. The villain paused.

A slow grin spread a cross their face.

“Begging so soon? Not very heroic.”

She laughed, and it hurt.

“Not heroic, no.”

The villain’s eyes narrowed, head tipping to the side as they regarded her.

Her eyes darted to the door, fear beginning to churn in her gut. Their face cleared as they followed her gaze, understanding writing itself on their skin.

“You’re afraid,” they observed. The villain stepped forward to where she knelt, knees digging into the ground. Their cool fingers wrapped around her chin and tipped her head up. “But not of me.”

She stilled, swallowing.

“I don’t know what you mean.”

The villain tutted, smile vicious and victorious and soft.

“Don’t lie to a liar.”

She closed her mouth.

The villain traced soothing circles along her jaw with their thumb. “You’re afraid your friends will get here in time,” they said softly. The hero made to jerk away, and the villain’s nails dug into her skin, eyes flashing in warning. “You’re afraid they’ll make it here in time to save you.”

Bitterly, tears rose in her eyes.

“Please,” her voice broke. The villain was silent.

They sighed.

“Up you get,” they tugged her up, wrapping an arm around her waist when she wobbled on numb knees. She closed her eyes.

She expected pain, the sharpness of finality, the crisp bite of death—but it wasn’t there.

When she opened her eyes, the villain was watching her.

Her gut sank.

“You aren’t going to kill me.”

The villain shrugged a shoulder.

“Oh, of course not. You want to die. What could be more torturous for you than leaving you alive?”

This time, the panic that curled in her gut was for the villain.

“Let me go then,” she said. The villain’s grip was stone on her waist.

“Mmm, I don’t think so. I won’t kill you,” they reminded. They tugged her against them so swiftly she didn’t feel it happen. Their lips pressed against her ear.

“No, love. I’m going to turn you into another me.”

She could feel their grin against her ear.

They vanished, taking her with them, before her friends could get there.

Six months later, she picked her friends off. One. By. One.

And the city burned.

[daffi-990]

Seven(ish) Sentence Sunday ✍️

Tagged by the über talented @wikiangela and @lover-of-mine 💕

Have more than seven sentences from the scene that was fighting me and causing grief from stuck now so long, we just got the start wrong aka rival firefighters 🚒 prev snippet

“What is up with you today?” Buck licks his lips as he shifts on his feet slightly, waiting for Diaz’s answer.

“Excuse me?” Diaz looks taken aback and okay Buck gets it, the guy who constantly flirts and teases you is suddenly asking you a legitimate question of concern? Buck would be shocked too.

“Something’s obviously crawled up your ass today, so spill.” Diaz pushes past Buck without responding, Buck hot on his tail with no brain to mouth filter working it seems because he can’t stop himself from adding “Is it me? Though if I’d been in your ass, I’d definitely remember it.”

Diaz whirls on Buck with fire in his eyes. He looks pissed and fuck is it hot. “Do you even hear yourself when you talk?!” He steps into Buck’s space, pointing an accusatory finger in his face.

Buck brings his hands up to push Eddie away but before he can make contact Eddie jolts back as if repulsed by Buck's touch. “What is your problem, man?”

No pressure tagging: @hippolotamus @spotsandsocks @watchyourbuck @callmenewbie @fortheloveofbuddie @thewolvesof1998 @athenagranted @rainbow-nerdss @exhuastedpigeon @the-likesofus @eddiebabygirldiaz @theotherbuckley @wildlife4life @ladydorian05 @loserdiaz @evcndiaz @try-set-me-on-fire @spagheddiediaz @malewifediaz @devirnis @disasterbuckdiaz @fiona-fififi @giddyupbuck @hoodie-buck @honestlydarkprincess @jeeyuns @jesuisici33 @jamespearce9-1-1 @clusterbuck @captain-hen @bekkachaos @monsterrae1 @mellaithwen and all others who want join in on the fun 😄

[jamiesfootball]

Word Game Wednesday:

Sick

Note: I'm very sure I've posted some of this one before, so to make up for it I'm just posting it in a bigger chunk :D

Someone’s hand was on the crown of his head. It was a nice hand, warm. It moved softly, brushing his fringe back from his forehead so the owner could examine Jamie’s face. “Amigo?” Dani. Something hot seized at the core of him, and Jamie struggled to keep his face blank. To keep his eyes closed and keep Dani from realizing he was awake, because if he did then he’d stop and- Fuck, he missed Dani. “I think he is waking. Jamie, can you hear me?” A new hand joined Dani’s. This one cooler to the touch, with gentle knuckles that tested the temperature of Jamie’s skin, and now the burning feeling was building behind his eyes, because as badly as he didn’t want to get up, who was he to disappoint Sam Obisanya? “Yeah, I’m fine." His voice didn't come out right; all gruff and clogged, sounded like he was putting on his best Roy Kent impression. “Must’ve dozed off for a moment, but don’t worry I didn’t lose any time. We can keep going—“ Sam’s hand on his chest stopped him from getting up. “We are in the treatment room.” What? Jamie tried to open his eyes, only to squeeze them shut with a sharp gasp. “Hold on. I will get you something,” Sam said softly. He left, and Dani hovered closer, murmuring quietly in Spanish -- Jamie knew enough of them now to know they were curse words. Bit of a secret between them, that.

Fuck, he missed Dani. He reached up, trying to find some bit of Dani to hold onto - wrist or arm or even a hip - anything that would afford him a grip and keep him nearby, where Jamie needed him. Familiar and calloused, Dani's caught his hand of his own freewill. His thumb rubbed circles over the back of his knuckles. “Shhhh. Shhhh. It’s alright, amigo.” Was Jamie making a noise? “Here we are,” Sam’s voice returned, and that was all the warning that he had before a cold towel was laid across his forehead. Jamie groaned. A tear leaked out of the corner of his eye, dripping into his hair. He couldn’t be bothered to wipe it away. He hadn't realised how much it was hurt until a little relief made it worse. “Fuck. Do I have a concussion?” “No,” the dual answer came quickly, without hesitation.

"Then what?"

"You passed out from low blood sugar, you twit."

Jamie jumped. He hadn't even noticed Roy was in the room. He tried to open his eyes, only to turn away when the light stabbed him for his efforts. Sam readjusted the towel on his head, and Jamie tried to bat him away -- not because he didn't want him there, but because he needed to sit up, needed to get back out there, couldn't stay down when Roy expected him at training-

A sharp pinch caught him in the crook of his elbow. He hissed, inspecting the spot where the IV port was plugged into his arm until the feel of the needle under his skin made him queasy and he had to look away.

Sam made that tick noise he did with his teeth when he was disappointed. It made Jamie want to crawl under a blanket. He didn't even have a blanket. Dani gently maneuvered him until he was lying back down. The damp towel hadn't even budged from his head.

"You also have a bump on your temple," Sam explained gently.

"And a fever," Roy growled.

"You should have told us you were sick." Great, now even Dani sounded like he was frowning.

Outnumbered, Jamie fought through the throbbing pain behind his eyes to argue his case: “But we have Leeds tomorrow.”

"Jamie," sighed Sam. "They are at the bottom of the table."

[cursed-spectre]

Cassidy was laying in her bed, visor reading a glitched M̵̨͌Ō̶̞D̷̲͂E̸̹̐]̴̤̀ when a young drone pounced on the unsuspecting sleeper.

"MERRY CHRISTMAS!"

"AAAAHH!" Out of some kind of instinct, her hand turned into a gun, placed in the middle of Ai's visor with a soft bump!

"Robo-god, Ai, what the heck was that for?"

"It's Christmas." The young drone tilted her head, a finger placed on her mouth. "Don't you wake people up early for that?"

"What? No. And even if you did, Christmas is tomorrow. Today's Christmas Eve."

She looked defeated. "oh... Can I still celebrate with you?"

"I... suppose?"

With a quick cheer, Ai crawled into the single-sized bed next to Cassidy, causing the drone to stutter in shock.

"WHAT THE HELL ARE YOU DOING?!"

"Cuddling."

"I—ugh, fine."

The disassembly/worker hybrid placed an arm around her pseudo sister, as the young drone hugged hers.

"Merry Christmas."

"Christmas Eve."

"Semantics."

"Where'd you learn—nevermind."

The rumbling of Cassidy's core served as white noise while the two fell asleep.

Happy Holidays, everyone.

[whitepeachrum]

Color Vision

Fandom: Hetalia (personified) Pairing: Arthur x Kat (EngUkr/UkrEng) Featuring: Alfred Content Length: Solo Chapter (~2700 words)

“This is like the best Christmas, y’all.” Alfred smiled, bundled up in a knit blanket that Kat and Arthur had made together for him. He sat by the Christmas tree with the lovebirds on the other side of him, happily leaning on one another. It was the first year that all three of them were able to celebrate together and the hosts were excruciatingly content with how everything had turned out.

“I might just have to agree with him,” Kat said to Arthur, kissing him and adjusting the pompom on his festive hat as it interfered with their moment.

“What? You didn’t like last year’s Christmas? When I nearly burnt the house down?” Arthur raised an eyebrow.

“Oh, I loved that one too,” Kat chuckled politely and shook her head, recalling the night when her husband’s attempt at making a fruitcake turned into a soot-filled extravaganza with firefighters galore. “But I think this one is even better. I’d say it’s a lot more colorful.”

“Quite. It almost looks like we’re living in an animation this year.” Arthur chuckled a bit.

“Artie!! Remember watching Christmas movies before bed when we were little? Can we do that today too??” Alfred asked, his eyes sparkling from all the illuminated lights reflecting off his glasses and the genuine excitement of possibly reliving his childhood memories with his brother and sister-in-law.

“I don’t see why not. It would be a great way to end the evening. What do you think, love?”

“I think…” Kat playfully and dramatically thinks about it. “I think it’s a wonderful idea.”

“YES! Can I pick the movie??? WAIT! Can we watch Die Hard?! Oh my god, I love that movie!” Alfred excitedly shimmies in his seat.

“Die Hard is not a Christma-” Arthur frowns as Kat covers his mouth, stopping him from ruining yet another great year.

“We can, but before we do that, I think there’s one last gift you haven’t opened yet, sweetie,” Kat interjects.

“There is?” Alfred blinks, surprised that there’s more.

“Mhm. It's right there.”

“Where??” Alfred looks under the tree and doesn't seem to find anything.

“Here, let me show you.” Kat tries to get up, but Arthur beats her to it.

“I got it, love. You stay put.” Arthur walks over to a box placed in the center of the tree and picks it up to hand to Alfred. The younger of the two looks at the box in wonder. Not only did it magically seem to appear out of nowhere, but it happened to be wrapped with dozens of little ribbons and bows. It blended seamlessly with the tree’s shadows and textures, yet it was so outlandishly decorated that it was nearly impossible to miss.

“Duuude! This looks so cool! How many bows did you put on this??” Alfred looks to Kat, who shakes her head, suggesting she didn’t decorate this gift. Alfred’s eyes curiously shifted to his brother who innocently shrugged, implying that it wasn’t him either. Then who did? Maybe it was Santa?

“Let’s just say we used everything we had,” Kat adds.

“Why don’t you open it,” Arthur suggests.

“And ruin all your hard work?” Alfred turns the box over and counts all the tiny bows. “It’s like the Fourth of July on this box.”

“Just open the damn box already.”

Alfred eagerly opens the packaging and discovers a box with a pair of sunglasses inside.

“Woahhh,” Alfred examines it with a detailed eye, admiring how expensive they looked. “These look so cool. You guys, this must’ve cost like a million bucks…”

“You should try them on. I bet they’ll look cool on you,” Kat grins, excited for him to try it on.

“Oh! Yeah, totally. You guys got a mirror nearby?”

Arthur points to the mirror in the hallway, where Alfred goes to try on his new glasses. He places his regular ones on the collar of his ugly sweater and his new ones on his face.

“Oh YEAH! These look awesom-”

Hold up. Something is wrong.

Alfred suddenly feels a chill all around him. It felt like something had crept up on him and suddenly surrounded him. It was unsettling, it was foreign, it was something bizarre and… amazing. He was wearing sunglasses, but somehow everything seemed brighter than he had been used to. What were these things he was looking at? Was he finally seeing… colors?

“Woah.. Is that what I look like?” The blond spoke quietly to himself as he tried to process what he was looking at. The grays that once varied in shades were now presented as entirely different hues and tones. He blinked a few times, trying to register his blond hair as blond, his blue eyes as blue, and his ugly sweater as anything other than ugly. People had used these words to describe him his whole life and now that he saw it for himself, he finally understood what they had meant. Alfred’s heart raced with excitement. It’s definitely not what he’d been used to seeing for the last twenty-something years. 

He looked past himself in the reflection and sharply turned around, looking at everything else with brand-new eyes.

“WOAH!” Alfred blinks, his smile widening as various simple objects thrill and confuse him.

His ugly sweater was leaking everywhere!! The colors of reindeer noses were all over the room in the shapes of wreaths and Santa hats. The blues of his baby blues had been shining through hot cocoa mugs and books that he had never been able to see the titles of before. Paintings on the walls and streamers decorated the walls in a more diluted shade than the reindeer noses. He had been certain that those light gray colors were just light gray, but everyone had convinced him were “pink”. What colors were even on those walls?! Oh wow!! Look at the lights!! How are the lightbulbs in the overhead lamps different shades of bright white!?

His eyes darted to the tinsel that shimmered in various golds and silvers. Then to the messy pile of unwrapped gifts that had overflowed with combinations of patterns and contrasting colors. To the warm, crackling fireplace glowing a gentle amber the whole night. To the tree that he knew was green based on the pine smell and sappy feel alone, but had never seen before.

Alfred gawked at the sight as Arthur cleaned up the wrapping paper. He scanned his surroundings with blurred vision and a lump in his throat. All the shades of whites, blacks, and grays had finally revealed their true colors. And it was all so overwhelming. But he loved every single bit of it. What was red? What was blue? Things he had barely known to be green and purple were suddenly there and completely different from how he had imagined them. Honestly, he didn’t even know which color was which. And he didn’t care! They were so beautifully bright and fresh.

He places his hands on his head as the processing part starts to short-circuit his brain. It was nothing short of amazing, but boy was it a lot to handle.

“How are the glasses? Do they fit well?” Arthur asks him with a raised eyebrow and a gentle grin, admiring his brother’s wholesome reaction to the things around the house. 

“Yeah. Holy...” Alfred responded absent-mindedly, his mind still working hard at processing and re-wiring his neural networks. ”DUDE! LOOK AT THE TREE!” 

He starts jumping excitedly unable to contain his joy as he notices the colorful string lights. How did they change colors like that?! His vision might’ve been a bit blurry with the new prescription, but the alternating colors were exceptionally hard to miss. Normally, Kat and Arthur wouldn’t decorate their tree in this many colors, but this year they decided to go all out. Just for a moment like this.

“What is that??” Alfred pointed to something on the tree.

“Mm. What are you looking at?” Arthur walked over to help him out a bit and casually crossed his arms.

“That! What is THAT?!” Alfred pointed to a disco ball tree ornament that had been reflecting and sparkling with all different colors at once.

“This one?”

“Yeah, yeah.” 

“It’s just a disco ball.”

“Not the ornament, but that sparkly thing coming from from it.” Alfred leaned in to get a more detailed look at the beauty of something this shiny. Arthur gingerly took hold of the ornament and gave it a twirl. Alfred gasped as if all the air was sucked out of him. He became infatuated by the changing colors and couldn’t bear to look away.

“Ah. you meant the beams of colors.” Alfred nodded once, his eyes glued to all the surfaces where he saw rainbows. ”See, the ornament is refracting the light. So, you’re probably seeing all those colors transition quickly when I spin it. Practically a rainbow sprinkler. Isn’t it fascinating?” Arthur lectured.

“Do it again!” And so he did. Arthur watched Alfred’s childlike wonder shine through. He smiled fondly, remembering his reactions to Christmas presents when they were younger. The younger brother used to gasp the same way when he would get the same toy Arthur did. Now that they’ve gotten older and reunited after years of living their own lives, they could share so much more than just the same toy.

“Wow…” Alfred alternated his daily glasses with his special glasses to compare how he saw the colors. “This is so freaking cool.” Arthur looked over to Kat with raised eyebrows, asking ‘if she thought Alfred would like their gift’. She gave him a sniffle and an excited two thumbs up. Arthur chuckled and unexpectedly got tackled down by the brute. They both landed with an oof and then Alfred started laughing boisterously. He hugged his brother as tightly as possible, hoping he would feel how incredibly happy he was. Arthur rapidly tapped his shoulder to get out of his grip as the air was genuinely being crushed out of him.

“Al… can’t… breathe”

“Sorry, Artie. I just can’t help myself.” 

Alfred pulled back and then went to give Kat a more gentle hug. He had to be careful not to pop his niece out with all his strength.

“Enjoy it, sweetheart. Just be careful with them, alright?”

“I will guard these with my life. Scout’s honor.”

“And Arthur too. I need him in one piece.”

Arthur got up and straightened out his ugly Christmas sweater before patting his brother on the back, extra harshly on the last smack, making sure his brother felt a bit of the pain he had passed onto him.

“Oww,” Alfred whined. He deserved that. “Man, you guys just… I can’t thank you enough. This is so freaking cool..”

Kat smiled, feeling extremely glad that they decided to splurge on one expensive gift before the baby came and drained them of any spendable funds.

Oh! As Kat thought about spending money on gifts, recalled that she had bought something for the occasion. Initially, it was going to be a gift for their little girl, but Kat thought it'd be a more fitting gift for Alfred now. She looked around her on the sofa and rummaged through her small pile of wrapping paper. 

“Oh, where did it go?” Kat lightly panicked.

“What are you looking for?” Arthur asked, putting a hand on her shoulder to keep her grounded.

“The book. The little book. You know, the one with the, um... Oh, what are they called? The- Ah, I got it!” She rediscovered the baby book she had gotten earlier in the month and flipped through it for a few seconds, confirming that it would be perfect. “I want you to have this as well.” Kat handed the gift to Alfred.

“Me? Why? Wouldn’t it be better for the baby? I can actually read, despite what Arthur might think.”

“The baby can’t read for another year or so, but you can. And when you’re done reading it to yourself and familiarizing yourself with the colors, maybe you can read to her someday and show her all the different things that are blue, yellow, or pink.”

“Kat!!” Alfred pouted at her cute and touching gesture. “This is like the best companion gift for these glasses. I’m gonna read the hell out of this book. And then I’m gonna read the hell out of this book to my niece.”

“Be careful though. I think some of those colors might blow your mind.”

“What? Which ones?” 

“Orange, for example.”

“Orange? What’s up with orange??”

“You’ll see it in the book. And then you’ll see it everywhere you go.”

Alfred opened the baby-proof book and found different circles on each page with a one-word description of each of its colors. He stared at the colors and pulled the book closer as he discovered the overlapping circles. After staring at it for a couple of seconds, he pulled it closer realizing what she meant about orange.

“WHAT?!” He flipped to the second page to find out more. Kat and Arthur chuckled at his reaction. “How does that even work?? Man, now you guys gotta re-teach me everything. Wow..”

Alfred looks up to share his enthusiasm with the hosts and smiles to himself as Arthur and Kat share a quiet, loving moment. It was just like a scene from a movie. While they assumed Alfred was taking his time reading the book, Arthur softly praises Kat on her completely, brilliant success of a Christmas and sneaks in a kiss on her temple. She smiles right back at him. Of course, it was a brilliant success! With all that bedrest she’d been on, all she could do was plan the party to make it perfect no matter what, down to the last piece of confetti. As long as everyone showed up and had fun, she knew her hard work would’ve paid off tenfold. She rests her head on her partner’s shoulder, intertwining her fingers with Arthur’s and enjoying the warm inner glow of their happy family.

Alfred may have been colorblind, but he didn’t need any fancy or rundown glasses to see how much color his family had brought into his life. Had it not been for them, he probably would've been having takeout and watching the Christmas parade on his phone. In boring ol' grayscale. 

“Oh hey!” Alfred perked up, grabbing Arthur and Kat’s attention and smiling hugely at them. “I finally understand what they say about Christmas gifts! Family is, like, the best gift on Christmas, isn’t it? Everyone gets to spend time together and just be happy. That’s so nice..” 

Arthur and Kat’s smiles fade into looks of astonishment and they glance at one another, surprised that Alfred came to such a profound realization, especially after reading such an insightful book. He was certainly not the little kid they thought he was. They didn’t expect it from him, but they were incredibly touched hearing his remark. More so, it gave them peace knowing that they were bringing their daughter into a such a loving family. They hoped that she would one day feel the same way.

“Yes, it is,” Arthur said, looking back at Alfred with the understanding his little brother was all grown up now. Huh.

“You know, I don’t think we ever formally invited you into the family,” Kat noticed the time on Arthur’s watch and looked back at Alfred with a smug grin. ”Welcome to the party, Al.”

Alfred frowns, trying to process why that sounds familiar, then gasps and points to Kat.

“YOU-!!” Alfred’s head spins to face Arthur, “Dude, I'm so sorry, but when you go, I’m gonna marry her. She’s literally the freaking best.”

“She makes one Die Hard reference and suddenly you’re thinking of marrying my wife? Unbelievable.” Arthur rolls his eyes and looks at him skeptically, “Do you really think you have a chance against us, Mr. Cowboy?”

“Oh my god. Oh my god. OHMYGOD!!!” Alfred shakes in excitement, knowing exactly how to respond, but trying hard to refrain from cursing in their home. The last time that happened, he was banned from saying anything at all. And lord knows he's a yapper. There was no way he was going to stop yapping on a day like this. Arthur smirks as he watches his brother turn red from how badly he wants to say it.

“Alright. Go on, then-”

“YIPPEE-KI-YAY, MOTHERFUCKER! WOOO!!!”

This was definitely the best Christmas he could ever ask for.