Chapter Text
- “Deck the Halls with Bowels of Victims!” Fa-la-la-la-la, fa-la, la-la. Seriously though, prepare for some weird decorating. Skulls of all sizes–some of them decked in glitter–would be the main theme of the season. You’d also have little need for a ladder. Yautja are notoriously strong. He’d simply lift you unto his shoulders. (WARNING: don’t be surprised if he suddenly pulls you around to the front. Your mate is insatiable. Plus with you brushing up against his dreadlocks? Just be thankful he didn’t bring down the Christmas tree in his surge of lust.)
- Christmas Attire. Now this would be a sweeter aspect. Your mate would love seeing you in green–a tribute of his blood. Likewise, he’d dress in red. A Santa hat would be mandatory, a beard optional (but highly recommended). If you get him a snow-white face wig, you’ll get to watch him toy with it via his mandibles.
- Christmas Cookies. Again, they’d be weird. Gingerbread house? Try gingerbread galactic warship. He’d want to make alien-shaped ones, then get way too into violently devouring them.
Side Note: Telling your mate the story of the Gingerbread man would result in him scoffing. This creature of ginger should be careful not to taunt those who hunt him, little blade, lest he be forced to eat his words.
- Christmas Trees: How Big is Too Big? Girth, length? It’s all a factor when choosing the perfect tree. Since you can’t exactly take him into public areas on Earth, (lest he cause widespread panic), you’d decide going solo’s the best option. Before you could do that, however, he’d surprise you—dragging home a massive evergreen. This would lead to a minor issue. How were you going to fit it inside? Don’t worry, little blade, he’ll make it fit. (Cue possible home renovations. Never fear, though, they’d be amazing and you’d love them.)
- Blasphemy of the Highest Form. Let’s be honest, Christmas is a time for many things—but logic isn’t one of them. A season of giving? Then why the tree? Are you not taking a life? You welcome a strange old man into your home at night? While you’re sleeping? If the elves make the toys, then why does this ‘Santa’ receive songs of tribute? Do tiny oomans not know that he isn’t the one to thank? He seems an honor-less rogue to claim credit for other’s deeds. Are the elves his slaves? Little blade, why are you glaring? After all, it seems the most logical! That must be why he doesn’t let them leave this hidden ‘North Pole’ you mentioned. He’d nod in understanding, unaware that he may have just ruined your childhood.
- Hot Chocolate (WITH Marshmallows). Yautja are used to living in hot climates. Whenever he’s cold, you’d set a fire in the hearth and make a warm drink to keep the cold at bay. After handing him his too-hot-to-drink-yet mug of cocoa, you’d move to grab your own. The sound of chittering would draw your gaze. He’d be using his mandibles to poke at the floating marshmallows. It’s just too adorable. Needless to say, he’s getting be-marshmallowed tusks. You’d demand it.
- Target One: Santa. Some trespassing male dared to intrude upon your special holiday? Death to Father Christmas! Down with his sleigh! Eventually you’d have to tell him the truth about Old Saint Nick…because catching him setting traps near the tree would be just too much.
- F-R-A-G-I-L-E (Italian. pronounced: fragilé). Whatever you do, do NOT shake your gift boxes! There’s going to be at least one grenade-bomb-canon-launcher hidden amongst your gifts. Unless you want to explode, just don’t do it.
