Thought RWBY Meets World was back? Yes it is! With a Christmas Special! This here is a preview of the actual thing, since I decided to go with Raye swearing multiple times I rated it M, mostly for safety. So, If you want to see the next chapter, check out my author's page, Every chapter in the RWBY Meet World AU I post will have a preview in this story.

The Story title is: Have a Very RWBY Christmas, mostly because I couldn't think of a witty name. Leave recommendations for a half-decent-to-actually-good name in the reviews!

Twas the night before Christmas, and all through the apartment nothing was stirring, not even a mouse. The stockings were hung from the balcony with something resembling care, with Ruby hoping Saint Nicholas would soon be there.

The huntresses (and criminals) were nestled all snug in their beds

While visions of guns, cookies, and maybe sugar plums danced / battled in their heads.

With Yang resting with Blake (Thank you tequila shots), and a book in my lap

Everyone had finally (Four A.M.!) FINALLY settled down for a long winter's nap.

And then God Damn Peter Port had to crash through my f #^ing window.

Seriously, It had been four months! Four months! Since Salem and Ozpin assigned me the job of dealing with huntresses, a homicidal flame blasting criminal her kleptomaniac and Egomaniac lackeys, a Soldier (sorry "special operative") with a stick up her ass, and that's just the beginning!

Needless to say, any concept of getting sleep was gone. Glass and wood sprayed all over my bed, as Peter Port landed in a roll.

"What the hell?" I exclaimed, bolting out of bed, swearing as I stepped on a small shard of glass. Sure, my aura made sure it didn't actually cut me, but it still sucked nonetheless.

I rubbed the sleep from my eyes as big broad hands grabbed my shoulders, and in a manner fitting for the bastard I was dealing with, started to shake me as if I was a cocktail, shaken, not stirred.

"Ho! Ho! Ho! Merry Christmas my boy! Are you ready to begin distributing the presents?"

"Huh?" I ask when he finally stops shaking me, presumably so I could answer.

I looked at Peter Port, The man is dressed in a bright red suit. No, It was not a Santa suit; that would have been fitting. No, this was a bright red suit. A white shirt and green tie completed the get up, only to be topped by a red fedora with a white stripe.

Honestly, Maybe Roman could have pulled it off. But Port? Not in a million years.

A slap on the back (although a bone-crushing slam may have been a more fitting descriptor) knocked me out of my thought process.

"Now where are the gifts? Krampus can't give out gifts if there aren't any!"

Now that got my attention. "Port, Krampus doesn't give out gifts, Santa does." I say blearily.

The man paused, his moustache shifting, how he does that I still don't know, maybe it's a hunter thing.

He shrugged, his brow scrunching up. "Don't be a fool! I read-up on Christ mass! It's part of my job! Ozpin explained it all."

I groaned "Christmas, is a holiday where Santa Claus gives gifts to good children, Krampus punishes bad ones."

"The Onion was quite specific! I made sure to read up on it!" he said, showing me a scroll image of a newspaper article.

"Port." I begin.

'Yes?" he asks jovially.

"Do you know what satire is?"

"Of course I do! Do you know what Satire is?"

This is a preview, the story itself is almost 9,000 words! Check out my author page for the story itself, or you know, search for it. it might still be on the first page of the RWBY story pages.

Please enjoy responsibly.