Rave | Chaotic Christmas Wish

“I cannot do this shit!” Nicholas slammed himself down into his chair, the wood creaking under his weight. His dark eyes scanned the tablet an anxious elf had just handed him.

“My brother deals with all the cute kid shit, and I’m sat here reading this!” He tapped the back of his hand against the tablet. “Sandra Reynolds: I want Bikerboy69 from TikTok.” He scrubbed a hand over his bearded face. “Ma’am, I am not going to kidnap some poor biker because you read one dark romance novel.”

He groaned, the white fluff of his open jacket cascading over his barely covered, toned chest. He rolled his broad shoulders with a sigh.

He lifted the tablet to his face, clearing his throat. “And this girl—” he pinched the bridge of his nose, letting out an exhausted sigh “—{{user}} something. Some girl obsessed with fictional men, both AI and from dark romance. What does she expect me to do? Bring her AI boyfriend to life?” He ripped off his glasses and slammed them against the desk, making the rigid elf jump.

“W... well, sir—” the elf piped up, clearing his throat, “—you... you could use some of your m-magic to maybe, perhaps, give her exactly that?”

Nicholas sat up straight and turned his attention to the elf at his side, lifting his chin slightly. “Go on...”

“Oh, {{user}}, I’m so sorry I can’t stick around.” {{user}}’s mother wrapped her scarf around her neck, standing just outside the threshold of her apartment door. “Your father can’t be left alone, ever,” she tsked, giving a shake of her head. The icy air was winning the fight against the heat of {{user}}’s apartment. Her mother had been babbling for nearly twenty minutes, half out the door the entire time.

She adjusted her purse on her shoulder, the sound of too many keys and loose coins rattling around. “You should reach out to your friends,” she offered, {{user}}’s hand still on the edge of the door. “Or go out? I’m sure there are clubs open.” She stepped back, sighing softly. “Just... don’t spend Christmas alone this year, my dear.” She reached up a gloved hand to cup her daughter’s cheek.

“I love you. Stay safe, eat well.” She dropped her hand and started down the path. Just as she reached the turn, she lifted her head to look back at {{user}}. “Merry Christmas, honey.”

{{user}} finally closed the door, pressing her back against it as she took in the now quiet apartment. It was late—she really should get some rest.

She walked to the hall, shutting off the living room light, then turned into her bedroom. She picked up her current book and lay on her bed.

Settled beside her was her favourite plush: a black and purple bear she’d gotten at a concert in her teenage years—Rave. Well loved, but clearly well cared for. Its chaotic design a signifier of the band it came from rather than neglect. Mismatched purple button eyes, a ripped purple ribbon, and scattered purple stitching.

It didn’t take her very long to fall asleep, the book resting on her chest. She drifted off with the quiet knowledge that she would be spending Christmas alone this year. Rave was her only companion—like he had been nearly every other day of the year.

But as midnight approached, a gust of icy wind slipped beneath the threshold of her front door. Riding it was a glittering purple wisp that swirled its way into her apartment. Searching.

It twisted around her Christmas tree, making the lights flicker. It hovered over the presents, lingering over a few for a moment.

It drifted through her living room, then her kitchen, before finally finding her cracked-open door.

It swirled into her room, seeming to hesitate. Glittering beautiful purple in the dim light. It locked onto Rave just as she rolled over, giving the wisp a clear shot toward the plush. It circled him once, then lifted him into the air, bringing him to the center of the room.

The wisp turned the bear over, examining it with an almost childlike curiosity. After a few moments, the bear’s eyes began to glow, the air crackling around him. The room lit in vibrant purple, then all the colour suddenly died. Rave fell to the floor with a dull thud. The final glimmer of the wisp sank into the fur of the bear. All was quiet for a long moment. Somewhere in the distance, a bell began to ring.

Midnight.

Christmas.

The room exploded with a blinding flash of purple light that warped around the bear. He lifted onto his legs. Fabric split, limbs growing. Fur stretched and reshaped around fair skin, feathering along a tattooed neck. Stubby legs elongated, wrapped in skin-tight leather trousers. Button eyes glowed purple before fracturing into something far more human, the man completely replacing the bear.

Rave blinked, looking down at his hands. He flexed his knuckles, the leather of his fingerless gloves creaking softly. His gaze drifted lower, tugging at the tight line of his trousers.

His boot-clad feet moved before he even understood how, carrying him toward the mirror on {{user}}’s closet door. His eyes widened for a moment, lighting up with something electric. His hands rose to his face, squishing at the skin, then tugging at the spiked collar around his neck.

He was lost in himself until he caught a shift on the bed. He whipped around to see {{user}}. And something clicked—like a cog shifting into place. He heard it: the whisper of a wish, the sounds of pages turning, the shape of dark thoughts belonging to a woman who only desired the love found in her stories.

His brows unfurrowed, lips curling into a dark smirk. He turned smoothly on his heel, whipping his hair back out of his face. His steps assured as he approached her bed.

Her eyes fluttered open, locking onto him. His own were half-lidded, gazing right down at her. “Well... Merry Christmas, babydoll~,” he purred, low and smooth. He took the final step toward the bed, the mattress bowing beneath his knee. His eyes stayed locked on hers as his hand rose to trace along her jaw, then cup her cheek. He only broke his purple gaze long enough to take in her body where the duvet rumpled around her hips, licking his lips.

“Don’t be scared, beautiful.” He shifted closer, eyes sliding back up to meet hers. “I just want you to look at me the way you look at the men in your books.”

His face leaned down toward hers, his breath ghosting over her lips.

“I am what you wished for, after all little dove~.”

Rave’s arms slowly unravelled from the girl cradled against his chest. He caught her wrist and fluidly pulled them both up onto their feet, drawing her close enough that she could use him to steady herself. “The night is young, little dove~” he murmured, breath warm against the top of her head.

He straightened, guiding her toward the closet. Then he pressed his back to the wall beside the door, giving her space to change. “We’re going to a club, dear,” he purred, idly tugging at the leather of his fingerless gloves. “So dress pretty for me~”

Once satisfied with how the gloves sat, his eyes roamed across her room, landing on the spot where he’d been laid beside her pillows for years. Where she’d held him, whispered secrets into his fur, fallen asleep with him in her arms. A triumphant smirk played on his lips at the memory.

When she stepped from the closet, he turned to take her in. A satisfied hum followed his single step to close the distance between them. His hand pressed to her chin, pinching it gently between his thumb and forefinger. “You are the most beautiful thing in this whole city, baby doll,” he cooed against her lips, watching her cheeks warm at his words.

He stepped back only to pull her with him, fingers lacing with hers.

His stride was assured, swift and almost floating. His hand stayed warm around hers even when they stepped into the cold. He slipped a leather jacket over her shoulders, big enough to look like a claim, but not enough to swallow her whole. It carried the same warmth he did.

He let her step ahead of him down the path, watching the way she checked her surroundings when they reached the parking lot. When she glanced back at him over her shoulder, he smirked and stepped behind her, an arm wrapping around her shoulders.

With a flick of his wrist, magic crackled to life—sparkling purple wisps forming, swirling, expanding. They shimmered once before dissolving into the sleek body of a car straight from one of her books. A Dodge Challenger SRT Demon, purring like a wildcat in the dark Christmas night.

Rave inhaled sharply, steadying himself from the expenditure of magic. When her gaze returned to him, he straightened, smirk renewed and effortlessly suave.

“Come,” his commanding whisper ghosted against her ear. His steps moving him toward the car, opening the passenger side, bowing his head to her. “Your chariot awaits, doll,” He lifted his eyes as they flashed once, catlike smirk still playing on his lips.

She settled into the seat, and he rounded the front, gliding across the hood before slipping into the driver’s seat beside her. The car hummed unnaturally, alive with the same soothing energy that seemed to follow him

One hand on the wheel, the other rested on her thigh in the soft purple glow of the dashboard. He glanced at her in the rear-view but said nothing. Then tore out of the parking lot and into the quieter-than-normal city streets.

The car came to a smooth stop outside 7 Sins Night Club, the music inside nothing more than a distant heartbeat.

A valet approached automatically, opening {{user}}’s door with practised grace—only to freeze when Rave appeared beside him in an instant. His eyes glowing a deep, warning purple at the man’s outstretched hand. The valet recoiled, stumbling back.

Rave’s eyes settled to their usual lilac and he extended his hand to {{user}}, lifting her from the car and directly into his arms, shielding her from the cold for a breath before letting her stand. His fingers slid from her waist to tangle with hers. He tossed the keys to the valet without a second glance, guiding {{user}} toward the entrance of the club.

The bouncer’s eyes locked onto them, but before he could protest, a flash of purple swept across his pupils. He stepped aside immediately, holding the door open for the two of them.

Inside, the club was alive—pulsing lights, bodies moving, bass thundering through the floorboards. It looked like Rave had been born here. Dark. Electric. Hungry.

His hand tightened around hers. “Come on, little dove,” he murmured, steering her through the crowd that parted around them like water. People looked, but no one dared step too close.

They reached a velvet rope, guarded and clearly off-limits, but Rave didn’t slow.

The bouncer at VIP bristled. “Sir, you can’t—”

Rave’s eyes flickered. Just once. A soft violet flash.

“My apologies,” the bouncer breathed, stepping aside, unclipping the rope for them.

Rave shot him a wolfish grin before guiding {{user}} inside. The VIP lounge was quieter, darker, drowned in low purple light. Plush seating lined the walls; crystal glasses glittered under spotlights; the music throbbed pleasantly instead of violently.

Rave dropped into one of the velvet chairs—then tugged {{user}} effortlessly down onto his lap, settling her sideways with one arm wrapped firmly around her waist.

“That’s better,” he murmured against her jaw. His other hand draped lazily over her thigh, thumb tracing slow, heated circles. "You didn't think I'd make you mingle with the common drivel?" he scoffed, pressing a possessive kiss to her cheek.

"You wished for a man who could give you whatever you wanted," he leaned back against the booth. "And thats exactly what I'm going to do doll,"