The Poisonous Feather // MHA x DSMP

It's Christmas Baby

A Christmas special just for you that will be also available on Ao3.
Took me almost 6 hours with breaks and it contains almost 8000 words.. my longest chapter yet and I am so proud of it.

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To the land comes the snow, water in its most artistic form.

Like a white, fluffed blanket the snow falls from the sky and covers cities and mountains, leaving behind nothing but a fluffy carpet of cotton. As the first snowflakes touch the grass, they swallow everything they meet on their way and soon turn the world into a kingdom buried under its cold crystals.
A garden of ice blooms, lulling animals to sleep and hugging plants to keep them safe under its weight. The freshly coated trees stood tall, bending under the white fairytale that began, glimmering in the sun and swaying softly in the cold wind. It rests upon the park benches as if it were a feather cushion, soft and cold. It calls for children to come outside and play and soon, snowmen are built, castles arise and snowballs cut through the air as they are sent from one side of the snowy walls to the other.

Laughter fills the air, parents observe, smiles tugging at their lips as they watch their beloved children run around and enjoy the softness of the powder that greeted them that morning. The temperatures lower, lakes freeze and ice forms all around, yet it is not able to scare off anyone as its beauty beckons people to welcome it with open arms. Hats are worn, scarves wrapped tightly around their necks and jackets zipped up all the way to fight off the chilly wind that threatens to attack their immune systems.

Tommy watches the outside from the window in his room, eyes taking in the scenery and its beauty. He stares, unmoving, silent, just enjoying the time he has and the weather behind the glass. Cradling a mug of hot chocolate between his hands, his wings flutter joyously as they lay sprawled on the ground behind him, creating what one would call a cape made of the sky's finest stars. They give him a feeling of safety, certainty as they always do.
Blue eyes blink slowly, watching kids play and built yet another snowman. Its body stands still and steady, despite the snowballs being uneven and slightly too much to the side to the point where it looks like it is going to tip over. Its hat is an old bucket or a pot - it's hard to tell because of the distance and the sun blocks most of the view. A carrot is placed in the middle of the smallest snowball, small pieces of charcoal quick to follow to create eyes and a mouth. Buttons are made out of small rocks that the children have found and deemed good enough to use.
One thing Tommy notes about this snowman is that it doesn't have three snowballs but only two, one making for the bottom and one acting as a head.

Upon taking a closer look, he also realizes that the crooked snowman the kids have just abandoned is missing an eye and its hand falls off. It is pitiful, as the snowman cannot do anything to fix its hand and so Tommy watches, waiting for someone to pick up the small stick that once belonged to the snowman and put it back in its place.
He waits for a moment, watching how all the kids laugh and dance as the snow continues to fall from the sky and cover their hats with lots of the white powder. He watches as their parents call them over and take their hands, before turning around and leaving the park. He watches the kids protest, screaming and refusing to leave as they reach out towards the snowmen and the castles they built.
He watches them leave completely, bound to come back the next day. His eyes return to that one snowman that lacks an eye and its arm, eyebrows furrowing.
The snowman is a little further back, away from the rest of its familiars, standing alone and sad. All of them are facing the sun and that one has its back turned away, not facing the same direction.

Tommy feels pity, for a snowman out of all things. It feels wrong, how that snowman was built and how it is separated from the rest as if its different. Tommy, for some reason, relates to that lonely snowman. Left behind with backs turned on him just because he is different, because he is missing something. While he might not miss something on the outside, he lacks something on the inside.
His heart, as corrupted and shattered as it is has nothing to offer. It is the most pitiful thing, shattered into millions of pieces over and over again just because it can. Pieced back together and glued, only to be broken again until there is nothing to fix and the cracks are too severe to glue back together.