#Might make this into a finished piece l a t e r

[rainbyte]

[sekarsari15]

HELL'S GREATEST DAD

[MHA VERSION]

[Ft. All Might, Aizawa, AFO, Mic, Deku, and Class 1-A]

[Lyrics MHA Version]

AFO: Haha. Alright then...

Haha!

Looks like you could use some help. From the big boss of The League himself! Check out daddy's glowing reviews on Yelp!

Villains (puppet's version):

Dabi: Five stars! Toga: Flawless! Shigaraki: Greater than great!

OFA: Oh, with the punch of a pentagram. I wap-bam-boom, alakazam. Usually, I charge for stealing or transfer Quirks. But you get the family rate thanks dad!

Izuku: (thanks dad!)

OFA: Who needs a skeleton

(All Might), now that you've got the whole world?

(wow)

Michelin-tasting menu,"Free À La Carte" I'll rig the game for you because I'm the...

R E F!

Champagne fountains, caviar mountains, that's just a start!

All Might: Who's been here since day one?

Who's been faithful as a nun (or hero)?

Who makes you chuckle with an old-timey pun?

Your #1 Pro Hero?

Izuku: (That's true!)

All Might: I'm your guy, your day-to-day. Your chum, your my Mentor! Remember when I broke Aoyama out of Jail?

✨Aoyama:✨I was stuck, thank you sir!✨

Izuku: (Oh you!)

Aizawa: I'm truly honored that we've built such a bond

Izuku: (aw)

Aizawa: You're like the child that I wish that I had

AFO: (uh, what?)

All Might: (uh, Excuse me?)

Aizawa: I care for you, just like a son I spawned

AFO: (Hold on now!)

Aizawa:It's a little funny, you could almost call me...

D A D !

Class 1-A: *Shocked and gasped*

Meanwhile, Todoroki: *conspiracy theory*

[AFO starts a fight throwing his fireball at All Might.]

[All Might using his Detroit Smash at AFO.]

[Aizawa had enough of them and tangled them upside down in his scarf]

All Might: They say, when you're looking for assistance. It's smart to pick the path of least resistance

OFA: Others say, that in your needy hour. There's no substitute for...

E X T R E M E P O W E R!

Who just happens to also be your

B L O O D !

Aizawa: Sadly, there are times a birth parent is a dud. They say The Family you choose is better

AFO: (what a bunch of losers)

All Might: Can you butt out of my song?

AFO: (Your song? I started this!)

All Might: I'm singing it, I'll finish it!

AFO: (Oh, you tacky piece of–)

Aizawa: THAT'S ENOUGH-

[MIC ENTERS]

Mic: It's me, yes it's me!

Aizawa: (Hizashi?!)

Mic: I know you were all waiting for me!

Izuku: (uh, Present Mic-)

Mic: I'm here, what a gas!

All Might: (uh, Mic-)

Mic: Took a while, but I'm present at last!

It's me,it's me...

HIZASHI!!

Everyone: ...

AFO:...Who?

[pacifymebby]

t r o u b l e / chapter fourteen

Chapter list

Sylvie

"Our fuckin brother eh?" grumbled Ada with a roll of her eyes. She was lying back on the settee in the original living room - the cosiest of the three which had now been built into the house apparently - one foot kicked up on the arm of the sofa, the other leg dangling lazy over the side.

I sat on the floor playing with little Karl who was still small enough that he could clamber up over my ribs and use my body as a climbing frame. It was a game I remember I'd enjoyed playing with John and Arthur when I was a wee girl too and it felt kind of funny to be playing it now as an adult.

"Fuckin dinlow," I agreed, "thinks he can shift us around like chess pieces,"

"Hmm," she agreed, "one day someones going to show him he can't play dictator forever," she said reaching down to hold Karls hand, "Don't let him trample you love you need those legs," she said trying to tug Karl away from my shins.

"He's fine," I said with a small smile, "he's still so tiny I can barely feel him."

Karl was giggling as he teetered and flailed trying to learn his balance as he stood on my thighs. Ada laughed.

"You must be joking Fen I swear the little rot get heavier every day," she said her smile glowing as she tousled his hair fondly, "looks more like his dad everyday,"

"Yeah," I said pinching the little boys cheek, making him giggle and snatch at my thumb, "he's got his smile hasn't he, your eyes though I think..."

"Our mams eyes," she said, "and mine and yours and Fens," she said, her smile lingering despite her sad sigh, "reckon every baby born into this family from now until forevers gonna have her eyes... The shelby curse just can't be lifted eh?"

I thought about my own streak of Shelby then, the dead hollow which had gouged my chest earlier that morning, the dark dead feeling which lined my ribs and left a pins and needles tingle in my fingers.

Then I looked at Karl, looked into his eyes and hoped it wasn't true. They were Ada's eyes though, and Ada was right. Everyone always said we had our mams eyes, so perhaps little Karl was doomed too.

I felt the tip of the sadness I knew I should have felt, like a paintbrush dabbing hesitant emotion over my chest. I knew exactly how I should have felt but instead of feeling the ache of it deep inside me, instead of really feeling it, instead I felt only surface level sorrow. A fleeting glimpse at the thought of feeling. And then just like that nothing at all.

"No," I said, "not little Karl, he's gonna be just right." I said already thinking of something else. My mind already preocupied with other things, other plans I hadn't really finished making. Things I should have thought through but had neglected to in my determination to simply make sure they came to be.

Isaiah had been standing quietly by the living room door, leaning back against the wall. His eyes watching me and little Karl, occasionally skirting the rooms perimeter. Every now and then he'd wander to the window sill and lean in the frame, watching the grounds and the drizzling afternoon. The gloom rolling in from the peaks. I knew what he was thinking, knew he was hoping I'd change my mind, lose this blinding determination and see some 'sense' but if he thought that was going to happen now then he clearly didn't understand our family as much as he thought he did.

"For gods sake Isaiah stop skulking about, you've got free will you know..." teased Ada making a lazy and dismissive gesture with her hands, beckoning him over so that he really had no choice. He might have been a bit of a cocky prat but he never defied Ada. I thought perhaps he was secretly scared of her... That or he was harbouring a crush on her that made it impossible for him to contradict her or ignore her. "Get that gun away, its fucking vile, guns around children... You know statistics say..."

"Got my orders Ada," he said with a sigh, taking one last look out of the window before he came to sit with me on the floor, "so you can worry about your statistics and I'll worry about keepin you safe..."

She laughed at that, a cruel almost spiteful laugh as if to let him know she didn't believe he could, or, that she didn't believe she needed him to. He scowled but he didn't argue, didn't let her see his irritation, just focussed on me and reached out to Karl offering him a finger to hold on to.

"From what exactly? Tommys already seen to it that we're kept locked away... Don't kid us Isaiah, you're here more to keep us inside than keep them out,"

I couldnt hold back my smirk, she was right and he knew it. Tommy could spin his story however he liked, with the perimeter guarded by Blinders, with all his high tech security doors and cameras, his panic rooms tucked deep inside the walls, all his escape routes too, Isaiah's job was less about defense and more about playing prison guard.

"Just put the gun away," sighed Ada, "I don't want Karl getting used to it,"

So he did, tucking it back into the waistband of his jeans. Karl not even noticing the weapon, too busy focussed on me, still trying to climb and clamber over the frame of my body.

"Careful lad," chuckled Isaiah, scooping him up when he saw me wince because the little one had unwittingly stepped on a bruise. I'd over stretched myself a week or so ago and had taken a tumble half way through class when my partner had placed my down and the muscles in my leg had quivered and given way. It happened more frequently than any dancer of my calibre was pleased to admit, but the humiliation of the scene had stuck with me and it was more that than the little stab of pain which had drawn the wince from me.

"You gotta be careful with our Sylvie lad, them ballerinas are made of delicate stuff y'know," he said letting the boy climb up his chest instead, earning himself a knee to the ribs that made him cough and crack a selfaware kind of grin.

"What about footsoldiers eh, whatre they made of?" chuckled Ada painting the poor lads cheeks a scarlet shade.

He shrugged it off, laughing as he played with Karl and watching him then almost made me feel guilty. He was trying his best to do everything right, trying far harder than either me or Ada ever had or had to. And tonight I was going to burn all his efforts to the ground.

But it wasn't guilt that gripped me. It was a dark kind of humour, I couldn't ignore how funny it was. The way we sat there playing innocent, playing with Karl, barely looking at one another, both of us knowing that everything I did was an act. Isaiah unable to call me out on any of my bullshit for fear of seeing the final straw snap.

"Where's Sunny?" asked Ada, "I heard her arguing with Tommy this morning, she still thinks she can go back doesnt she..."

"She's not stupid Ada," I smirked, "she knows she can't and its broken her heart... Its not the same fir the rest of you, your politics will still be there when all this is done and dusted, her spotlight will have been habded over to someone else... She's lost a lot, she's not sulking she's grieving... "

"If she goes back to London the Italians will snatch her up and do god knows what with her to get to Tommy... One lead role ain't worth it..."

"Well, I know that Ada... And so does Sunny, deep down, but she's allowed to be upset about it..." I said pretending to steal Karls nose, enjoying how he giggled and made little snatching hands to steal it back.

"It is a shame," she acquiesced, "god knows what she's been putting herself through all these years to climb to the top but..."

"The Italians would put her through worse," I shrugged, "and she knows it, she'll come round trust me, she just needs a few days to cry... You know what she's like, our very own Sylvia Plath..." at that Ada giggled and clipped me round the back of the head with one of Karls peter rabbit toys.

"Sylvia!" she grinned, "you can't say that!"

"Why not?" I grinned too, "I'm her identical twin... I'm exactly the same," I smiled though it wasn't exactly anything to smile about and I could see Isaiah glowering out the corner of my eye. Probably thinking of the conversation we'd had earlier. Probably remembering how precariously I'd placed myself in the open window. How determined and certain, how horrifyingly calm I had been when I'd looked him in the eyes and promised that I'd do it.

He didn't smirk or laugh along. Even when I flashed him a smile of my own and later when the sun was setting, when I'd argued with Polly about skipping dinner and retreated to my room, wondering where Sonya was because no one had heard a word from her since she'd stormed out of Tommys office that morning.

"She'll be with Bonnie," Isaiah had said thinking I needed reassuring she was safe. It wasn't that which bothered me however. I'd been hoping to steal her away from a moment. To let her know of my plan. How I intended to go to London myself and request Solomon's help. I knew she'd understand me and I wanted to give her the hope my brother had ripped from her that morning when he'd been so cruel to her. Whilst I was in London I'd try to pick up a little information about Freddie, find out if anyone he knew, knew about him and Sonya. If he'd kept her a secret then he was an honest lad who loved her as much as she believed him to. If he'd told a soul then it was as Tommy had said and her heart would be broken. But at least I'd be the one breaking it and I could be as kind as she needed, as gentle.

And at least we'd be certain. At least she'd know she could trust me. I didn't have any alterior motives, I wasn't trying to break her spirit so that she'd obey my every commabd as Tommy would be hoping for.

I was sure that if I could just speak to Alfie then he would understand our plight. I'd seen him around the opera house before, I knew it was the music he loved, the art. Not the girls as most of the sleazy old men who visited the opera houses were there for.

I'd never seen Alfie by the stage doors but I had been the one to water the roses he sent to decorate the dressing rooms every opening night.

I knew he'd empathise with Sunnys distress, I knew that if I could speak to him I could prove Tommy wrong. I was dead certain of it, completely determined to at least try which was more than could be said for my brother.

"You're such a fuckin liar," said Isaiah glaring at me as he closed my bedroom door behind him. The two of us alone together with his bad mood, "all fuckin day you've made me listen to you lying through your fuckin teeth..."

"Don't know what you're bothered about Isiah, morals aren't exactly anyones strong point in this family..."

"Thats your brothers Syl, it ain't you..you an Sonya have never been like that," he countered, his eyes dark, black treacle wounded and fixed on mine. I couldn't look away and I didn't want to either. He was showing me something he never had before. That Peaky boys had feelings too.

And maybe if that switch in my head hadn't flicked over I'd have smiled softly and apologised and taken his hand and been good to him about it, but it had switched and so all I could do was smirk, the veil still between us.

"Well don't get upset about it love," I shrugged, "people change don't they and Tommy really has forced my hand here," I said taking Pip my old toy mouse from my bed and ripping his back open with my teeth as I had done once when I was very young.

Isaiah watched me, that glower only growing more troubled as I pried the little toys fur open with my fingers and delved inside his stuffing. As if he was just a toy, one I'd never clutched to my chest or sobbed into as a girl.

I smiled triumphant as my fingers curled around the things Id been searching for, three rolls of cash tied with elastic bands.

"What the fuck love when did you.." started Isaiah his eyes growing wide probably imagining I'd stolen them from my brothers and that it was just more trouble I was dragging him into.

"When I was seven," I said, "so don't worry I think Arthur will be over it now..."

"You stole all that from Arthur when you were seven?"

"Uhuh," I said counting, not looking over at Isaiah as I gave him my short, sweet explanation, "it was dope money I think, so if anything he should be grateful I took it..."

"Yeah well," he grumbled, "somehow I can't see him thankin you..."

I grinned, a toothy, proud kind of grin, remembering how I'd snuck into my older brothers room and slipped my hand into his sock drawer knowing exactly where he kept his stash. I'd been watching him for several weeks and I'd learnt his whole routine by heart. I'd known exactly how much time I had between his departure to buy and take, and his return when he'd stumble back and collapse in his bed. I knew he wouldn't notice the missing cash until several days later by which time he'd only be able to imagine he'd spent the money himself on extra dope or a bit of something else to take the edge off.

Of course at such a young age I hadn't known the gory details, but I'd known enough to know when it was safe to take it. And I'd known enough to know that taking that money wasn't exactly wrong.

I'd stitched it up inside my little Pip that very same day and vowed to keep it safe for a rainy day. Not just a gloomy cloudy day when the streets flooded and stank of sewage and damp, but a rainy day when I really, really couldn't stand Small Heath anymore. When I absolutely had to get away.

Now this wasn't small heath but the sentiment remained.

"You saved that there all this time?" he asked cynically, "since you were seven?"

"Yeah," I shrugged, "it wasn't very difficult Saiah," I added deadpan as if the truth was obvious to anyone but me, "I moved half a country away less than a year later... Me and Pip have only been together a handful of times since..." I said with a smirk looking down at the little mouse left ripped open on my bed.

Isaiah didn't say anything then, just watched me as I gathered the last of my things. I wasn't exactly travelling heavy, but there were a few things I knew I needed to take with me, and a few things I was loathe to travel without.

As he watched me placing a couple of mismatched posessions into a bag, along with a change of clothes, a few pieces of underwear, an ipod and some headphones intended only for Alfie Solomons, Isaiah began to grow restless. As if seeing me move about the room with such cold precision purpose was making him realise it was real. As if he were suddenly being forced to acknowledge what he was actually about to do. That he was going to go against Tommy. That he was about to take me right down south into the lions den. That potentially he was going to let both of you get killed.

Every time he tried to say something he trailed off, got half way through the sentence and lost the heart. He knew exactly what he was doing just as I did. He was just filling silence, saying anything else he could possibly think of to stop him from saying what he really wanted to. Because he felt helpless up against the wall which was the "Shelby Curse" even if he hadn't quite realised that that was what he was up against.

Its difficult to argue with the barrel of a gun, no matter who its turned on.

I sat down on the edge of my bed with a satisfied sigh, lips together, slight downward curve, soft and relaxed. Too relaxed apparently.

"For fuck sake girl what the bloody hells wrong with you!" hissed Isaiah finally snapping as he snathed the little bag from my lap and cast it asside, "fuckin stand up, fuckin sittin there like that when you were threatening to shoot yourself in the fuckin head a matter of hours ago! How the hell are you just sittin there like that?" he was doing well to keep his voice down, I had to at least give him credit for that.

"Because it isn't time to go yet," I said simply, "and I'm not much of a pacer... Sunny tends to pace but not me y'know," I shrugged looking over my shoulder at the window I'd stood in that morning. Unable to keep the smirk off my face when I remembered how I'd held the poor lad to ransome. He hadn't been expecting anything like that.

"Yeah and when it is what exactly is it you think you're gonna do? Just get up and go aye?"

"We're just gonna go for a walk," I said, "lovely evening isn't it and Tommy thinks I've got a crippling infatuation for you..." at that I saw Isaiah's lips curve slightly, like something in his ego had been snuffed out. Like any upper hand he might have thought he held over me had been vanquished just like that.

"So he's wrong then is he?" he chuckled, his smirk tugging at his lips, confidence not exactly wavering.

"It's not crippling," I shrugged standing up and returning to the window without so much of a second glance at him. I was checking the lawn for one last view of my sister returning but the grounds were empty and I was forced to accept that I wouldn't be seeing her before I made my trip. When I turned back to Isaiah he was watching me expectantly, that frustration evident in his tight jaw, the glower in his eyes as he watched me with a building contempt.

"Shall we go?" I asked dropping my phone on the bed, knowing Tommy would be able to track us easily if I was carrying my mobile.

"Fuck sake," said Isaiah shoving his hands in his pockets waiting to follow me out the bedroom door.

The house wasn't exactly quiet and as we passed down the hallway I heard Polly on the phone talking to Michael, she must have had him on speaker because his voice was loud enough that I could hear both ends of their tense conversation. Her fussing and him growing tired, telling her he needed his rest, needed to sleep. Her saying she was surprised he could sleep after what had happened to him.

Ada lay docile on the sofa in the main lounge, a fire burning, her and Karl glowing orange as they dosed together. Perhaps she was finally burnt out after another losing battle with Tommy.

I didn't see any of my brothers before we made it out the front door but I could hear Arthur and John laughing and shouting somewhere down the hall and I knew the three of them would be sharing drinks under the guise of putting their heads together to fix the family predicament.

"We'll leave through the main gate, you can do the talking," I said taking Isaiah's hand in mine, entwining our fingers so that we looked intimately bound as we walked down the drive.

"Fine, whatever..." he replied, letting his fingers lock with mine but refusing to grip, sulking with me as we walked the long drive through the evenings haze, the mist slowly gathering in from the peaks and the heaths. "Where exactly d'ye plan on walking to Sylvia?" he asked quietly as we approached the gate, his lips a thin but self righteous smirk, like he thought he was catching me out.

"You're the brooding gangster Shiah, I'm sure we won't have to walk for very long," I shrugged knowing full well that he could probably hot wire the next Chelsea tractor we passed. I wasn't really bothered if the owner felt like making the donation or not.

"This is your bright idea love..."

"And you're the most important part of it..." I sneered back, the sweetness which gleamed on my expression as I stood on tiptoes and surprised him with a kiss to the cheek - more for Johnny Dogs benefit than his. He froze beneath my lips but only for a moment. His eyes wide for half a second before he heard Johnny's laughter and understood what I'd done.

"Sneaking about are you miss Shelby... you'll be in trouble if our Tommy catches onto any of this..." he warned though his smile and the amusement in his eyes told me that if Tommy did find out it wouldn't be because Johnny Dogs had been telling tales.

"Please don't tell anyone you saw us uncle Johnny!" I rushed out dropping Isaiah's hand, hiding my face behind my hands in embarrassment so that the older man only laughed harder.

"You're lucky its me out here and not your uncle Charlie!" he laughed, his rushed tone just threatening enough for bus to hear the warning in his teasing, "he'd have your bloody balls Isaiah Jesus!"

"Aye well," said Isaiah, "don't go telling him either eh Johnny..."

"Ahh your secrets safe with me lad don't you worry," he said still grinning, still believing himself privy to a secret and a joke at someone else's expense, "ha!" he chuckled, "young love eh, I remember it well eh, back in me youth..." he started too caught up in his story to realise we were slipping past him until it was too late.

I heard him call after us, something about us not being meant to leave the grounds, but neither Isaiah or I made the mistake of turning back so he was forced to hope we'd be back before Uncle Charlie came to swap posts with him for the night.

I bit back a smile, trying not to laugh so blatantly, knowing that Isaiah already thought me a sociopath after the way I'd treated him before. But when I looked up at him I saw he too was struggling to hold back a laugh at the old mans expense and, when we locked eyes we couldn't help dissolving into giggles at the stupid trick which shouldn't have worked but had. It wouldn't have worked if it had been anyone else trying to pull it off, we both knew that, and as we walked in step down the lane, moving quickly to make as much ground as possible before my brother could realise we were gone, we kept our hands held. Our fingers remained intimately interlinked.

[truckreincarnation]

If I Can Be Frank | Germain | 2.2 | RE: Frank, Manami | ATTN: Avery

People were hurting. Bian, with her somewhat misappropriated guilt. Yuliya’s composure as she tried to piece together what had happened. Shin and Esmee’s anger, their grief, the helplessness of not having been able to help as Perry bled out in front of them. Vee, who had to find his best friend’s corpse for the second time, forced to recall the trauma of losing someone they cared about. It was plain to see the pain present in the circle.

Germain couldn’t understand what it would take to witness all that and decide that it wasn’t enough. That they had to add onto it. And Frank called them children?

He looked down to hide his shock, but Pettiwhisker was glaring at Frank. “S-Seriously? F-Fucking now?” He was whispering to himself, as if he wasn’t sure he’d even heard right. He was about to keep it at that, leave it at the quiet annoyance only audible to his neighbors, but… hadn’t Perry been the one who told him to speak up, before this? Esmee too? He stared intensely at Frank, keeping his voice measured for now.

“I u-understand you d-don’t care, but c-could you drop the b-bullshit, for now, at least?” This isn’t tactlessness - it’s having the tact to recognize the worst thing to say and then saying it. “Everyone’s m-miserable enough already without your h-help. You’re n-not adding anything, with your… ch-childish cruelty. You’re another d-drop in the b-bucket.” He sighed, finally looking away. “So just… p-please don’t m-make me think even l-less of you, Frank…”

They’d gotten that out of their system. Germain took a second to recollect themself, gather their thoughts, just breathe. What were they talking about?

“Yuliya mentioned it, but with how f-fine the wound on Perry’s f-face was, I agree that was the fumo’s doing. The broken b-bones, the messed up h-hands, I th-think a lot of that could be c-caused by f-falling out of the t-tree, trying to grasp at anything n-nearby. It seems reasonable this s-started as an a-accident. The fumo made the smooth c-cut in the sheets, causing enough of a loss of balance that P-Perry tore the rest, g-grabbing at it as sh-she fell."

“It m-makes sense Perry wouldn’t want to let e-everyone know she was in d-danger, especially c-considering the s-state of mind Frank specifically was in, from the m-motive. Knowing their r-relationship.” 

Pettiwhisker was giving Frank the stinkeye, while Germain didn’t deign to look in his direction even as they brought it up. Man’s out for blood today, it seems.

“P-Perry probably went to the c-crafting room to g-get help, as the others s-said. She was t-trying to walk, I think, using the wall as s-support, judging from the b-bloodstains. Tried to g-grab some things from the c-crystal shelf, since there were b-bloodstains there too.” He frowned. “I’ve been r-reading up on p-potions, but I’m n-not too familiar on the m-mechanisms of shatterstone. Echoing Luz’s questions th-there, I guess, Avery.” He looked to Avery. “A-Anything you know about its p-properties m-might be helpful.” 

If there ever was a time to be a nerd, it’s now. It seemed likely that someone had come into the picture to finish Perry off, but what if this had been some kind of laboratory mishap? It was perhaps wishful thinking on his part, but he couldn’t quite discount the possibility.

“M-Manami mentioned them, but I’m… n-not sure about what those two c-crystals were doing there. They seemed oddly… o-out of p-place. A s-singular sapphire and e-emerald. If they were just left there by the m-mess, I’d have e-expected… more I g-guess. I just wonder if they were m-meant to serve some p-purpose.”

[ilbound]

@nexarerum has requested a story : ❝ don’t start any fights. please. ❞ gabs to axel and isa

𝑷𝒓𝒐𝒎𝒑𝒕𝒆𝒅.

Another peaceful day together for the three of them— Rather , it m i g h t have been , had there not started the ever-familiar BICKERING between Axel and Isa ; for two mages who so profess to care a great deal for one another ( perhaps even venturing to say they love each other , as the sun & moon are often fated to ) , they seem to get into these s p a t s all the time.  Harmless , of course , if not for the fact it’s become entirely ROUTINE ; hard to say who exactly started it this time , but the point remains … It’s still happening , the both of them trading off accosting blows like an incessant , bantering sort of tennis match.  This might well be a good reason why people have told them they resemble A MARRIED COUPLE … They certainly tend to a r g u e like one.  And , tragically for Gabriella , caught in the middle of them , forced to e n d u r e their quarreling , there’s never a winner nor an end till one of them bores of the prospect ( & that could very well take over an hour ! ) .

When she interjects her piece , there is a LONG PAUSE , an indiscreet measure of complete s i l e n c e as both mages look comically between one another and down to her , then back to each other.  At least now , a momentary peace has been restored and any conflict , resolved.

❝ Start a fight ? ❞  The both of them say in near-unison , exchanging another perplexed look with each other , a wordless conversation seeming to transpire ( is that what we were doing ? do you think ? is she annoyed with us ? should we stop ? ) .  Eventually , Isa pulls his pale gaze from his counterpart , looking back to Gabriella , giving a shake of his head , ❝ I wouldn’t say we are starting a f i g h t — ❞ The tone he takes with her is far GENTLER than the SHARP-TONGUED one he had used on Axel just a few moments prior.

❝ — Right , yeah , we’re jus’ - y’know - havin’ a discussion , ❞ Axel finishes Isa’s thought , crossing his arms.  Is t h a t what he would call it ?  Seems more like they were picking on one another to anyone with proper sense.  He chuckles a bit , shrugging his shoulders.  ❝ Believe me , Gabs , if we were fightin’ it’d be waaay more obvi— OW !  Hey !  What the hell was that for ?! ❞  Axel holds the back of his head where Isa had promptly swatted him to shut up him , emerald hues narrowing and pointedly glaring at the other.

Isa i g n o r e s him ( though he’s trying not to allow a smirk to pry up the corners of his lips ) .  ❝ I believe what Axel MEANS to say is that we meant no harm. ❞  Axel grumbles his agreeance.  ❝ Truthfully , I thought you would be accustomed to it by now , ❞ He says thoughtfully , tilting his head at her , ❝ Being around us for so long , you have seen and endured most of our tiffs.  However , if you’d prefer , we can BOTH – ❞ He nudges Axel who obligingly nods his head and smiles reassuringly , ❝ – Work to keep it to a minimum. ❞  Which would be quite DIFFICULT , but for her – they would certainly make the effort.

[brandonwaratah01]

♥️ Make Create Do 💚

C r e a t i v e L i t e r a t u r e

“ Pottery art items I made are drying. It’s getting late, I am tired and sighing. Tomorrow’s art efforts to be about trying. If the clay products are in need of buying, if receipt(s) are printed and provided, I might need a-bit of highlighting. If the ten kilogram Stoneware block of clay was to land on my toe, I’d probably end up crying. Would my ceramic art make it globally? Could one day be on a plane delivered by flying. I start another piece of art by painting with priming. Paying attention to the finest details of an art piece by visually eyeing. Finished items in a box presented with material and a card via typing. My oriental vases could be perfected by striving. ”

♥️ - B r a n d o n v.p N g u y e n - 💚

[clonesome]

I seriously might have lost all will to work on this art piece. I accidentally merged a layer group, that had taken me over two hours, that I had grouped together bc it made one important part of the piece itself, and I wasn't finished with it bc I moved to work on a different part.

With a single layer that had taken me all of two seconds. Which is still important to that part of the piece. HOWEVER.

I didn't fucking notice until after I had saved the file, which I'm pretty sure overwrites any autosaves the program makes on its own every so and so minutes or something.

AND my brain didn't fully put together what error I made until A F T E R I had closed it. Only to reopen it and try to fix my error. Which. I. U h. Couldn't.

Best Case Scenario, I can still finish each respective part m with the layers... layer how it is.

Worst Case Scenario, I have to scrape the l a y e r and start that part over from scratch. Which ... wouldn't be the end of the world but ... t w o hours for a very detailed earring I'm going to C R Y

Bed Time Now.

[thewnchstrs]

A Very Supernatural Christmas

Pairing: Winchester!Sister (OC)

Summary: It's Christmas time, and Sam, Dean and Ellie investigate a series of murders where the victims were pulled up through chimneys.

Disclaimers: blood, self-harm-like injuries, death

Word Count: 10.1K

S E R I E S   M A S T E R L I S T

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Ypsilanti, Michigan

“Um, my daughter and I were in our beds,” Sheryl recalled, her arms held tightly over her chest. “Mike was downstairs decorating the tree. I heard a thump on the roof and then I heard Mike scream.” She took a deep breath, fighting back tears. “And now I’m talking to the FBI.”

I nodded sympathetically, my pen hovering over my notepad, trying to ignore the strong smell of cinnamon wafting from the house’s open front door. “And you didn't see any of it?”

“No, he was…he was just gone.”

“The doors were locked? There was no forced entry?”

Sheryl nodded, “That’s right.”

“Does anybody else have a key?”

Sheryl thought for a second before answering, “My parents.”

I nodded, creating a possible suspect list, "Where do they live?"

"Florida," she answered simply. I paused before giving her a tight-lipped smile, crossing out the grandparents on my list. I finished up my questioning as Sam and Dean came out onto the porch where Sheryl and I were talking.

"Thanks for letting us have a look around, Mrs. Walsh," Sam said. "I think we got just about everything we need."

"We’ll be in touch," Dean said as I pocketed my notepad inside my jacket.

Sam led the way back to the car but before we even made it to the driveway, Sheryl called back to us, "Agents..." We turned around, she seemed even more distraught than before. "...t-the police said my husband might have been kidnapped."

Dean looked to Sam and I, unsure of what to say. “Could be.”

 "Then why haven't the kidnappers called? O-or demanded a ransom?" her shoulders slumped forward in defeat. Dark circles layered Sheryl’s eyes, her graying hair was tousled. "It's three days 'til Christmas. What am I supposed to tell our daughter?"

"We're very sorry." Sam said. I could tell by the way Sheryl lingered in the door that she wanted him to say something else. Something that would reassure her that her husband would be home in time for Christmas morning. However, all we could offer her was our cards with our phone numbers, and our condolences. Definitely not enough to get someone through something like this.

"Find anything?" I asked as we walked back to the Impala, my hands shoved in my pockets.

"Stocking, mistletoe…this." Dean pulled something small and white out of his pocket, setting it into my open palm.

"Is that-" I started, examining it closely before recoiling. "Is that a tooth? Where was it?

"In the chimney."

I raised my eyebrows, "Chimney? No way a man fits up a chimney. It’s too narrow."

"No way he fits up in one piece," Sam pointed out, making Dean and I shutter in unison.

The three of us slid into the car parked across the street, the engine rumbling the car to life. Dean eyed the tooth as I handed it back over the bench seat to Sam, "Alright, so, if dad went up the chimney, we need to find out what dragged him up there."

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

At this point during our research, I was practically holding my eyelids open, staring at the pages of the books in front of me, only to realize I was reading the same sentence over and over again. Eventually, I gave up, resorting to just looking at the pictures.

The door to the motel room opened, a waft of warm air spilling into the room as Dean entered, bags of food in hand. "So, was I right? Is it the serial-killing chimney sweep?"

"Yep. It's, uh, it’s actually Dick Van Dyke," Sam said from behind his laptop.

"Who?" Dean and I said in unison.

"Mary Poppins?" Sam said expectantly, raising his eyebrows at us.

"Who’s that?" Dean and I said again.

"Oh come on— nevermind," he said, waving us off as he returned to his computer.

"Well, it turns out that Walsh is the second guy in town grabbed out of his house this month," Dean said, plopping the food onto the lore books.

"Oh yeah?" I said, leaning back in my chair, running my hands through my hair.

"Yeah."

"The other guy get dragged up the chimney, too?" Sam asked.

“Don’t know. Witnesses said they heard a thump on the roof," Dean said, shrugging his jacket off and throwing it on the motel bed.

"Just like Sheryl," I said.

"Just like Sheryl," Dean confirmed, reaching into the greasy takeout bag.

"So, what the hell do you think we're dealing with?" Sam asked, looking between Dean and I.

"Actually, I have an idea," I offered, resting my elbows on the table as I leaned forward. "It's, uh...it's gonna sound crazy."

"What could you possibly say that sounds crazy to us?" Dean asked around a mouthful of burger.

"Well...evil Santa," I said, watching them expectantly.

Sam and Dean sat still momentarily before Sam nodded, "Yeah, that's crazy."

"Yeah…I mean, I’m just saying that there’s some version of the anti-Claus in every culture," I said, moving Dean's food away from the book I was looking at. "You got Belsnickel, Krampus, Black Peter. Whatever you want to call it, there’s all sorts of lore."

"Saying what?" Sam asked, pulling the book closer to him.

"Saying that back in the day, Santa’s brother went rogue and now he shows up around Christmas time, but instead of bringing presents, he punishes the wicked."

Dean looked at me confused, "By hauling their ass up chimneys?"

I nodded, “For starters, yeah."

"So, this is your theory, huh? Santa’s shady brother?" Dean mocked.

"Well...I’m just saying, that’s what the lore says," I said, holding my hands up defensively.

Dean's eyes bounced to Sam, questioning whether Sam was buying into all this. "Santa doesn’t have a brother. There is no Santa.”

"Yeah, I know. You’re the one who told me that in the first place, remember," Sam said, making Dean look down at his food.

I sighed, shutting the book in defeat, "Yeah, you know what, I could be wrong. I...gotta be wrong."

"Maybe, maybe not," Sam said. I flicked my eyes up to his. "I did a little digging. Turns out both victims visited the same place before they got snatched."

I raised my eyebrows, suddenly not feeling so crazy for maybe believing this could be true. "Where?"

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

“It does kind of lend credence to the theory, don’t it?” Dean said as we walked into Santa’s Village, a run down town recreated to look like a sad North Pole. Kids rushed around past us, their parents on their tails. A Christmas song played eerily over a loud speaker.

"Yeah, but anti-Claus? Couldn’t be,” Sam dismissed.

“It’s a Christmas miracle, Sammy,” I said, patting him on the back. “Hey, speaking of, we should have one this year.”

“Have one what?” Dean asked, glancing up at him.

“A Christmas.”

Sam furrowed his eyebrows at my sudden request. He laughed humorlessly, “No, thanks.”

“No, we’ll get a tree, a little Boston market, just like when we were little,” Dean said, surprising me.

"You're agreeing with this?" Sam asked incredulously, making Dean shrug.

"I don't know, man, maybe it'll be fun."

“You guys, those weren’t exactly Hallmark memories for us, you know,” Sam said as we walked past a line of kids waiting to meet Santa.

“What are you talking about? We had some great Christmases!” I shot back defensively. 

He raised his eyebrows at me, “Whose childhood are you talking about?”

“Oh, come on, Sam,” I said, stopping on the path and turning to him.

“No!” Sam said abruptly, louder than I think he meant to. He glanced over his shoulder before lowering his voice. “Just…no.”

I paused a moment, realizing it would take more effort to argue with him. “Alright, Grinch.”

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

Christmas Eve, 1991

Broken Bow, Nebraska

Sam carefully wrapped the small gift in today’s newspaper, the headlines reading something about Russia printed over the front. Sam struggled��with the tape, unsticking it from itself when a voice spoke from behind him and Ellie who was lying on her stomach on the floor, watching Rudolph on the small TV set. “What are those?”

Sam looked up to Dean from over the couch and then back to the gifts. “Presents for daddy.” Ellie explained, smiling at the comic strips she was coloring in with black and blue ink pens.

Dean scoffed, looking to Sam, “Yeah, right. Where’d you get the money? Steal it?”

“No,” Sam said incredulously at the idea. “Uncle Bobby gave them to us to give to him. Said it was real special. He gave me one for you to give to him, too.”

Dean narrowed his eyes at the small gift. “What is it?”

“A pony,” Sam retorted, making Dean chuckle.

“Very funny.”

Sam taped the last corner down, fiddling with the newspaper as his mind raced with the questions he wanted so badly to ask. Dean came around from the window he was watching out of and plopped down on the couch, flipping through one of his dad’s car magazines when Sam spoke up, “Dad’s gonna be here, right?”

“He’ll be here,” Dean said simply, not looking up from his magazine. Sam could tell in his voice that even Dean wasn't sure of his own words.

“It’s Christmas.”

“He knows and he’ll be here. Promise.”

Sam sighed, pulling another piece of tape from the dispenser. “Where is he anyway?”

“On business.”

“What kind of business?”

“You know that. He sells stuff.”

“What kind of stuff?”

“Stuff.”

Sam huffed in frustration, “Nobody ever tells me anything.”

“Then quit asking.” Dean stood from the couch, lightly tapping his booted foot against Ellie’s bare one. “Sit back from the TV, El. You’re gonna go blind.” Ellie quickly scurried backward, her eyes still glued to the show, her pen forgotten in her closed fist.

Sam watched as his brother made his way across the small motel, using his arm to sweep the trash off the bed before sitting down on it, opening the magazine back up. Sam crawled onto the couch, watching him. “Is dad a spy?”

“Mm-hmm. He’s James Bond.”

“Why do we move around so much?”

Dean was growing visibly frustrated at the line of questioning. “’Cause everywhere we go, they get sick of your face.”

“I’m old enough, Dean. You can tell me the truth.”

“You don’t wanna know the truth. Believe me.”

Sam considered dropping the subject, but just couldn’t. He never understood why him and his dad kept so much from him. “Is that why we never talk about…mom?”

Suddenly, Dean threw the magazine aside at the mention of their mom. “Shut up! Don’t you ever talk about mom. Ever!”

Sam’s eyes were wide as Dean crossed the room in an instant, standing toe-to-toe with him. Dean’s eyes bounced to Ellie over Sam’s shoulder where she was staring back at them now at the sudden outburst. Dean looked back down at Sam, shaking his head as he turned and began walking toward the door.

“Wait, where are you going?” Sam called after him.

“Out,” Dean said simply, slamming the door behind him. Sam blinked twice, looking over to Ellie who simply turned back to her movie, coloring the newspaper.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

“You’d think with the ten bucks it costs to get into this place, Santa could scrounge up a little snow,” Dean said, walking back to where Sam and I were sitting.

Sam blinked twice, coming out of his zoned-out state, “What?”

“Nothing. What are we looking for, again?”

“Lore says that the anti-Claus will walk with a limp and smell like sweets,” I said as we began walking again.

“Great. So we’re looking for a pimp Santa,” Dean retorted. “Why the sweets?”

“Think about it, Dean. If you smell like candy, the kids will come closer, you know?” Sam said, scrunching up his nose with the realization of how gross it sounded out loud.

“That’s creepy,” Dean said. “How does this thing know who’s been naughty and who’s been nice?”

“Now that,” I said, my finger in the air, “I don’t know.”

“Welcome to Santa’s court!” A cheerful voice said suddenly. We turned to a girl dressed in an elf costume, pointy ears and all. “Can I escort your child to Santa?”

“N-No. No,” Sam stumbled.

"But actually my brother here,” Dean said, patting Sam on the shoulder, “its been a lifelong dream of his.”

I held a hand over my face, trying to hide my laughter, the girl watching Sam suspiciously as he glared at Dean, “Uh, sorry. No kids over…twelve.”

Sam shook his head quickly, “No, he’s just kidding. We only came here to watch.”

She looked at the three of us, her eyebrows furrowing before walking away quickly, “Ew.”

“I- I didn’t mean that we came here to w— y—” Sam tried, sighing as he turned to Dean. “Thanks a lot, Dean. Thanks for that.”

Dean chuckled. From across Santa’s Village, we watched as Santa stepped off his platform and walked past us. “Check it out.”

Santa limped past, his beard yellowing over his upper lip. He reeked of something sweet. I leaned toward Sam, “Are you seeing this?” 

“A lot of people walk with limps.”

“Tell me you didn’t smell that. That was candy.”

“That was Ripple...I think. Had to be.”

“Maybe,” I said, sparing a glance over my shoulder to where Santa disappeared inside a port-a-potty. “We willing to take that chance?”

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

I stretched my arms high above my head in the backseat of the Impala, the backs of my hands smooshing up against the rear window. My eyes were growing heavier and heavier as we spent precious hours wasted on stalking this Santa. I let my hands fall down to the leather seats. “What time is it?”

“Same as the last time you asked,” Sam said, handing me a thermos. “Here…caffeinate.”

I untwisted the cap, but not a drop of coffee fell into the lid. “Wonderful.” I tossed the thermos onto the seat beside me before leaning forward. “Hey, Sam.”

“Yeah?” 

“Why are you the boy that hates Christmas?”

Dean let out a snort from where he was resting his forehead against the steering wheel. He sighed, “Ellie-”

“I mean, I admit it,” I began, cutting him off. “I know we had a few bumpy holidays when we were kids-”

“’Bumpy’?” He chuckled humorlessly.

“That was then. We’ll do it right this year.”

“Look, if you two want to have Christmas, knock yourself out. Just don’t involve me.”

I looked to Dean, “Whatta say, Dean? You, me, cranberry molds?”

“Sounds like fun to me,” he admitted. I slapped his arm happily.

Dean sat up, then, narrowing his eyes at the trailer ahead of us, “Look who’s up.” Sam and I followed Dean’s line of sight to the man who was now looking out of his window before closing the curtains. “What’s up with Saint Nicotine?”

That was when we heard the screaming from inside the trailer, a woman’s voice, high pitched, “Oh my god!”

“Go, go, go!” Dean shouted as we threw the doors open and cocked our guns, running to the trailer door.

Dean was ahead of me, looking through a small window when I heard Sam chuckle behind me. I looked back at him, “What’s so funny?”

“Nothing. It’s just that, uh…well, you know, Miss Gung-Ho Christmas might have to blow away Santa.”

I rolled my eyes just as Dean knocked the door down, the three of us cramming into the tiny trailer, guns at the ready. We stopped short as the man stood from the couch wearing a dirty wife beater and red pants. I glanced around the room quickly, searching for the source of the screaming, only to realize it was the pay-per-view porn blasting through the TV speakers. His hearing aid rested on the coffee table.

I scrunched up my face in horror as the man motioned to us, slurring his words, “What the hell are you doing here?”

“I’m really not interested, okay?”

“Mistle my toe. Roast my chestnut. Egg my nog.”

I cringed at the TV playing distractingly behind him. We quickly stowed our guns behind our backs. This was obviously not our guy.

Dean hesitated, “Ah, w—” 

“Jingle my bells?”

“S-silent night…” I began, mostly in an attempt to drown out the noise of the moaning from the TV. I looked to Sam and Dean for help, the words to the song escaping me. “Holy…”

“…night. All is well…”

“…all is d-dry.”

“Bright…”

Our pitch was awful, the three of us sounding so incredibly tone deaf it was almost comical. The man stopped, dropping down onto his worn recliner, smiling broadly. We slowly began to inch toward the door. “Round and round…the table- bye!” We dashed out the screen door, peeling away from the trailer park.

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“So, that’s how your son described the attack?” Dean asked our witness. “‘Santa took daddy up the chimney’?”

She ran her hands soothingly up and down her arms, “That’s what he says, yes.”

“And where were you?” I questioned as she led us into the living room. In the better lighting, I could see the blossoming bruise over her right eye.

“I was asleep and all of a sudden…I was being dragged out of bed, screaming.”

“Did you see the attacker?”

She simply shook her head, biting her lip as she fought back tears. “It was dark, and he hit me. He knocked me out.”

“I’m sorry. I know this is hard,” Dean said sympathetically.

“Yeah…um, Mrs. Caldwell, where, where did you get that wreath above the fireplace?” Sam asked, gesturing to the one behind us. Dean and I furrowed our eyebrows at him, looking at the large wreath hung on the wall and then back to Sam.

Our witness stammered in confusion, “Excuse me?”

Sam hesitated awkwardly, “Just curious, you know.”

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

“Wreaths, huh?” Dean said as we left the house. “Sure you didn’t want to ask her about her shoes? I saw some nice handbags in the foyer.”

“We’ve seen that wreath before, Dean,” Sam said.

I raised my eyebrows, “Where?”

“The Walshes’. Yesterday.”

Dean nodded as we approached the car, playing it off as if he knew all along, “I know. I was just testing you.”

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“Yeah, alright. Well, keep looking, would you? Thanks, Bobby,” Sam said, ending the call. “Well…we’re not dealing with the anti-Claus.”

“What’d Bobby say?”

“Uh, that we're morons,” Sam said seriously. I shrugged. “He also said that it was probably meadowsweet in those wreaths.”

“Wow! Amazing,” Dean said. “What the hell is meadowsweet?”

“It’s pretty rare and it’s probably the most powerful plant in pagan lore.”

“Pagan lore?”

Sam sat down in front of his laptop, “Yeah. See, they used meadowsweet for human sacrifice. It was kind of like a...chum for their gods. Gods were drawn to it and they’d stop by and snack on whatever was the nearest human.”

It was fucked up, all of it, and to think these people didn’t even know they were putting a target on their own families was the worst part. “Why would somebody be using that for Christmas wreaths?”

“It's not as crazy as it sounds, El. I mean, pretty much every Christmas tradition is pagan.”

“Christmas is Jesus’s birthday,” Dean countered.

“No, Jesus’s birthday was probably in the fall. It was actually the winter solstice festival that was co-opted by the church and renamed ‘Christmas’. But I mean, the Yule log, the tree, even Santa’s red suit – that’s all remnants of pagan worship.”

I watched Sam in silence, wondering how the hell he knew half this stuff. Dean stood from the table, grabbing his forgotten coffee on the counter. “How do you know that? What are you gonna tell me next? Easter bunny’s Jewish?”

Sam laughed under his breath. I leaned back on the bed I was sitting on, resting my palms behind me. “So you think we’re dealing with a pagan god?”

Sam nodded, “Yeah, probably Hold Nickar, God of the winter solstice.”

“And all these Martha Stewart wannabes, buying these fancy wreaths…”

“It’s pretty much like putting a neon sign on your front door saying ‘come kill us’.”

“Great,” Dean muttered under his breath, taking a long drink from his coffee.

“Huh…” Sam hummed thoughtfully as he began reading from the website he was on. “When you sacrifice to Hold Nickar, guess what he gives you in return.”

“Lap dances, hopefully,” Dean smirked.

“Mild weather.”

Dean and I looked at Sam. I stood from the bed, pulling back the motel curtain to the parking lot. “Like no snow in the middle of December in the middle of Michigan.”

“For instance.”

I let the curtain fall, leaning against the wall. “Do we know how to kill it yet?”

“No, Bobby’s working on that right now. We got to figure out where they’re selling those wreaths.”

“You think they’re selling them on purpose?” Dean asked. “Feeding the victims to this thing?”

Sam shut his laptop, sliding his jacket on, “Let’s find out.”

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

After embarrassing ourselves numerous times in the hopes of finding whoever was selling these damned wreaths, I was beginning to think we’d never find them. Our last shot was a small corner store with large plastic candy canes stuck into the grass beside the front door.

Inside, the place smelled of cinnamon and spruce trees and was entirely cluttered. Christmas trees, mini porcelain Santas, life size porcelain Santas, candles, tinsel, ornaments and candy. I was getting a headache just looking at it all. Behind the counter was an old man who lowered his glasses from behind today’s paper, “Can I help you kids?”

“We hope so,” Dean said, trying to give the man a smile but the man only continued to stare at him, bored. Dean cleared his throat and started again. “We were playing Jenga over at the Walshes’ the other night, and this one over here...” He clapped Sam on the shoulder, “he hasn’t shut up since about this Christmas wreath, and...I don’t know, you tell him.”

Sam glared at Dean and the looked back to the shop owner who was now watching him, too. “Sure...it- it was yummy.”

The man’s deep-set eyes bounced between the three of us, not sure if he should believe us or if we were just wasting his time. “I sell a lot of wreaths, guys.”

“Right, right, but – but you see, this one would have been really special. It had, uh, it had, uh, green leaves...white buds on it. It might have been made of, uh…meadowsweet?” Dean said.

“Well, aren’t you a fussy one?” The owner said.

Dean clenched his jaw as I held back a laugh. “Oh, he is.”

“Anyway, I know the one you’re talking about. I’m all out.”

Sam’s eyebrows shot up, “Huh. Seems like this meadowsweet stuff’s pretty rare and expensive. Why make wreaths out of it?”

The man shrugged, “Beats me. I didn't make ‘em.”

“Who did?”

“Madge Carrigan, a local lady. She said the wreaths were so special, she gave them to me for free.”

I narrowed my eyes at him. “She didn’t charge you?”

“Nope.”

“Did you sell them for free?” Dean asked, probably already knowing the answer.

“Hell no. It’s Christmas. People pay a buttload for this crap,” he said truthfully.

Dean smiled knowingly, “That’s the spirit!”

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

“How much do you think a meadowsweet wreath would cost?” Dean asked, turning on the light in the motel room and shutting the door behind us.

“A couple hundred dollars, at least,” I said, pulling my jacket off and shedding the light brown button down from beneath it. “And this lady’s giving them away for free? What do you think about that?”

“Well, sounds pretty suspicious,” Sam said as he and Dean sat at the end of the beds, pulling their shoes off.

I rested my hands on the back of one of the chairs, a random memory coming to me suddenly. I smirked, “Remember that wreath dad brought home that one year?”

Sam and Dean looked up at the quick change in subject. Dean crinkled his brow, “You mean the one he stole from, like, a liquor store?”

“Yeah, it was a bunch of empty beer cans. That thing was great,” I chuckled, kicking my shoes off. “I bet if we looked around hard enough, we could probably find one just like it.” I pulled the chair out, plopping myself onto it as I pulled my hair down from the tight ponytail it’d been in all day.

“Alright,” Sam started, “El…what’s going on with you?”

“What?” I asked defensively.

“I mean, since when are you Bing Crosby all of a sudden? Why do you want Christmas so bad?”

I shrugged, avoiding the real reason as Dean spoke up, “Why are you so against it? I mean, were your childhood memories that traumatic?”

“No, that has nothing to do with it.”

“Then what?”

“I- I mean, I- I just…I don’t get it. You haven’t talked about Christmas in years.”

I couldn't deny that he was right. I’d never really been eager to celebrate anything, but this year was different. I clasped my hands in front of me, leaning my elbows on my knees. “Well, yeah...this is my last year.”

A quietness settled over the room. Sam nodded slowly, “I know. That’s why I can’t.”

“What do you mean?” I asked, even though I already knew the answer. 

“I mean I can’t just sit around, drinking eggnog, pretending everything’s okay...” he paused, collecting himself. I kept my eyes trained on his, my heart wrenching, “...when I know next Christmas you’ll be dead. I just can’t.”

I swallowed past the lump in my throat, nodding and when I looked up again, Dean was watching the floor, his hands clasped tightly together.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

When Dean returned, it was well past midnight and the room was quiet. Sam put down his comic book as he came in. “Thought you went out.”

“Yeah, to get dinner,” he said, tossing him a Pop-Tart and a bag of Funyuns. “Don’t forget your vegetables.” He sat at the end of his bed, pulling his boots off. “Hey, what the hell is that pile of sticks outside?”

“Ellie left them for the reindeer,” he said in a whisper and then motioned to the plate of graham crackers and glass of water she’d laid out, too. Sam quietly followed Dean to the two twin beds, careful not to disturb Ellie where she was curled up in a ball at the end of the couch. Sam grabbed her blanket, pulling it further on her small frame.

Dean tore into his own Pop-Tart while Sam watched his brother carefully, willing his hands not to shake now that he knew everything that Dean always tried so hard to protect him from. “I know why you keep a gun under your pillow.”

Dean lifted the pillow on his bed, revealing the revolver beneath it. “No, you don’t. Stay out of my stuff.”

“And I know why we lay salt down everywhere we go.”

“No, you don’t. Shut up,” Dean said, concern rising inside of him.

Sam leaned over the side of his bed, pulling their father’s leather-bound journal from between the mattress and rusted bed frame. He threw it on to the shared bed side table. Dean’s heart sunk.

“Where’d you get that? That’s dad’s!” Dean reprimanded, standing from the bed. “He’s gonna kick your ass for reading that.” Sam kept his eyes trained on him, unfazed by his words because he’d heard the threats before. Dean never meant to be so hard on Sam, he was just trying to keep him safe.

Dean watched his little brother, at just eight years old, asking him the question Dean has always dreaded to be asked: “Are monsters real?”

He narrowed his eyes at Sam. “What? You’re crazy.”

“Tell me.”

Dean clenched his jaw as Sam stared up at him with intense determination. He knew Sam was smart, and he also knew Sam would have to know the truth one day. He just prayed it wouldn’t come so soon. Dean sighed softly, glancing over to the couch where their sister slept before looking back at him. “I swear, if you ever tell dad I told you any of this, I will end you.”

Sam’s eyes widened slightly as if he wasn’t even sure himself that his prodding would work. “Promise.”

Dean sat down on the edge of his bed, hands clasped in front of him. “Well, the first thing you have to know is we have the coolest dad in the world. He’s a superhero.”

Sam’s eyes widened again. “He is?”

“Yeah. Monsters are real. Dad fights them. He’s fighting them right now.”

“But dad said the monsters under my bed weren’t real.”

“That’s ’cause he had already checked under there,” Dean said, watching his brother absorb the information. “But yeah, they’re real. Almost everything’s real.”

“Is Santa real?”

Dean chuckled softly. “No.”

Dean could practically see the gears turning in Sam’s head when he suddenly became concerned. “If monsters are real, then they could get us. They could get me.”

“Dad’s not gonna let them get you.”

“But what if they get him?”

“They aren’t gonna get dad. Dad’s, like, the best,” Dean reassured. If he knew one thing, it was that their dad was untouchable. As far as he was concerned, his dad would live forever.

“I read in dad’s book that they got mom.”

“It’s complicated, Sam-”

“If they got mom, they can get dad, and if they get dad, they can get us,” Sam rambled quickly.

“It’s not like that. Okay? Dad’s fine. We’re fine. Trust me.” Dean stood, sitting himself beside Sam in a moment of silence. Sam looked away from his brother as tears welled up behind his eyes as the world as he knew it was beginning to collapse around him. “You okay?”

Sam tried to swallow back the tears. “Yeah.”

Dean’s heart broke. “Hey, dad’s gonna be here for Christmas. Just like he always is.”

“I just want to go to sleep, okay?”

“Yeah, okay.”

Sam slowly rolled over on his side, facing the wall away from his brother. Then, he couldn’t stop the tears that freely flowed. His shoulders shook as he gripped the pillow tightly.

“It’ll all be better when you wake up,” Dean tried, but he knew it was no use. “I promise.”

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

I looked up at the large white house in front of us, confused. Inflatable Santas and plastic reindeer sat in the front yard along with a snowman made from fake snow. 

“This is where Mrs. Wreath lives, huh?” Dean said. “Can’t you just feel the evil pagan vibe?”

Sam rang the doorbell that was framed by another wreath. The door quickly opened where a woman in her mid-fifties beamed at us. “Yes?”

“Please tell me you’re the Madge Carrigan who makes the meadowsweet wreaths,” Dean charmed.

“Why, yes I am!” She said, her smile growing as she opened the door a little wider.

Dean snapped his fingers, “Ha! Bingo.”

“Well, we were just admiring your wreaths in Mr. Skylar’s place the other day?” Sam said. I glanced around the doorframe and into the interior of the house. Nothing seemed out of place, just an old woman who went over the top during the holidays.

“You were? Well, isn't that meadowsweet just the finest-smelling thing you ever smelled?”

“It is, it sure is,” I feigned a smile. Her eyes flicked to mine. “But the problem is, is that all your wreaths sold out before we got the chance to buy one.”

“Oh, fudge!” Madge exclaimed, her eyebrows knitted together.

“You wouldn’t have another one that we could buy from you, would you?”

“Oh, no, I’m afraid those were the only ones I had for this season.”

“Aww man,” Sam sighed, the three of us shaking our heads. “Tell me something, why did you decide to make them out of meadowsweet?”

“Why, the smell, of course!” A man from behind Madge came down the stairs, a pipe dangling from his lips and a small container in hand. “I don’t think I’ve ever smelled anything finer.”

“Yeah…you mentioned that,” Dean muttered.

The man looked between the three of us, cheerily taking the pipe from his mouth, “What's going on, honey?”

“Well, just some nice kids asking about my wreaths, dear.”

“Oh, the wreaths are fine. Fine wreaths!” Mr. Carrigan smiled. “Oh, care for some peanut brittle?” He held out the container toward us.

Dean reached for a piece but I quickly grabbed his elbow, pulling him backwards. I chuckled, “We’re okay, thanks.”

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

“I knew it!” Sam said from behind his laptop, clapping his hands. Dean and I stopped sharpening our wooden stakes. “Something was way off with those two.”

“What’d you find?” I asked, lightly touching my fingers against the point.

“The Carrigans lived in Seattle last year where two abductions took place right around Christmas. They moved here in January. All that Christmas crap in their house – that wasn’t boughs of holly. It was vervain and mint.”

Dean cocked an eyebrow, “Pagan stuff?”

“Serious pagan stuff.”

“So...what, Ozzie and Harriet are keeping a pagan god hidden underneath their plastic-covered couch?” Dean asked.

“I don’t know. All I know is we gotta check them out,” he said. “So, what about Bobby? He’s sure evergreen stakes will kill this thing, right?”

I held up the stake, examining it and nodding. “Yeah, he’s sure.”

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

The Carrigan’s house was much more eerie at night as we approached the front door. I glanced around the driveway as Dean made quick work of the lock on the front door, Sam and I grabbing our wooden stakes from Dean’s backpack.

Inside the house, Christmas music was playing softly. There wasn’t one square inch of this house that wasn’t decorated with Christmas lights or tinsel.

“See?” Dean whispered, pointing to the couch. “Plastic.”

I walked around to the fireplace, looking at the different Santa’s lined up on the mantel. I crinkled my nose at them and their beady little eyes. Dean walked past me into the kitchen while Sam checked the dining room. Something uneasy stirred inside me. It all seemed a little too quiet. I cautiously checked the living room for a little longer, but to my dismay, I had found exactly nothing interesting.

“Hey,” Sam whispered from the hallway. Dean and I met up with him where he was shining his flashlight on a hidden, dead bolted door. Sam quietly unlocked the door that opened to pitch blackness, but from the top we could see a long, steep staircase.

“Oh, I hate this,” I whispered as Dean took the lead. The first thing at the bottom of the stairs was a bowl sitting atop an old vanity. I shined my flashlight over it, narrowing my eyes at the bloody contents inside, long and fleshy.

“Are those...” Dean whispered.

“Intestines?” I finished, my face screwed upward. “Yeah.”

The more we looked around, the more we noticed just how much blood was strewn throughout the basement. I walked around the corner, a pile of bloodied bones sitting on a metal shelf, a Santa Claus boot drenched in blood on the floor. I wouldn’t be surprised if there was a foot still inside of it. There was a table saw, pieces of flesh dangling from the blade. The place was a slaughterhouse. While I was examining a sewing machine, the needle red and sticky with blood, Sam’s scream filled the room.

“Sam!” Dean shouted. Running toward them, I gripped my stake, sliding to a stop just as Sam was being lifted off the ground by his throat by Madge. 

“Gosh, I wish you kids hadn’t come down here,” Madge said as Sam continued to struggle to breathe when finally, she took him by the neck and quickly slammed his head against the hard concrete wall.

Dean and I ran toward her when a hand shot out of the darkness and grabbed Dean by his back before bashing his head into the bookcase beside him. Instantly, he fell to the floor unconscious.

I quickly slithered between two tall shelves, holding my hand over my mouth to stifle my breathing. I watched through the gaps in the shelves as Madge and her husband stood over Sam and Dean’s bodies.

“Where’s the girl?” Madge asked her husband.

I gripped the stake harder. I needed to think up a plan, and fast. I could run, but I wasn’t going to leave Sam and Dean down here alone. I probably couldn’t even make it to the stairs if I tried. I could take them head on, two to one, but by the looks of it, they were much stronger than I was.

“She’s got to be here somewhere,” Mr. Carrigan whispered.

I peaked around the corner, Madge’s back turned to me. I flipped the stake in my hands so the pointed edge was facing her. I reared my arm back, just before she stepped out of the way, Mr. Carrigan smiling wildly at me. As fast as I could, I forced the stake forward, attempting to plunge it into his heart, but he moved just in time. He snatched the stake from my hands, throwing it to the ground before holding my arms behind my back and slamming me onto the stone floor. My head bounced, and then the world went black.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

The ringing in my ears was what brought me back to reality, followed by a voice that sounded miles and miles away before it slowly became clear: “Dean?...El?”

I forced my eyes open, squinting against the bright lights. I looked around groggily, quickly realizing the predicament we were in. Our arms and legs were secured tightly by ropes to the dining room chairs in the middle of the Carrigan’s kitchen. Our chairs were lined up side by side, facing the island in the middle of the room that was once filled with cookies, mini pies and gingerbread was now littered with knives, tools, and a bunch of other sharp, threatening looking things.

“You guys okay?” Dean groaned as he came to.

“Yeah, I think so,” Sam said. 

“So, I guess we’re dealing with Mr. and Mrs. God,” I sighed, my head pounding. “Nice to know.”

Two sets of hurried footsteps came into the kitchen then, followed by a shrill voice, “Ooh, and here we thought you three lazybones were gonna sleep straight through all the fun stuff.”

“And miss all this? Nah, we’re partiers,” Dean said sarcastically.

“Isn’t he a kick in the pants, honey?” Mr. Carrigan laughed as he paced in front of us. “You’re hunters, is what you are.”

“And you’re pagan gods,” I said, glaring at the man as he walked past me. “So, why don't we just call it even, and go our separate ways?”

“What, so you can bring more hunters and kill us?” He popped his pipe back into his mouth. “I don’t think so.”

“Maybe you should have thought about that before you went snacking on humans,” Sam shot back.

“Oh now, don’t get all wet.”

“Oh, why, we used to take over a hundred tributes a year and that’s a fact,” Madge said, laying a cloth in each of our laps. “Now what do we take? What, two? Three?”

“Scooby gang here makes seven.”

“Now, that’s not so bad, is it?” Madge smiled brightly at Sam.

“Well, you say it like that – I guess you guys are the Cunninghams,” Dean mocked.

“You, mister, better show us a little respect,” Mr. Carrigan said to him. I continued to shoot death glares at Madge.

“Or what?” I said, looking to him. “You’ll eat us?” 

“Not so fast. There’s rituals to be followed first.”

“Oh, we’re just sticklers for ritual!” Madge said, crouching down to be eye level with me. “And you know what kicks off the whole shebang?”

“Let me guess…meadowsweet,” Dean said, taking a wild guess. “Ah shucks, you’re all out of wreaths. I guess we’ll just have to cancel the sacrifice, huh?”

“Oh!” Madge exclaimed excitedly as she left the room before returning with three long sprigs of meadowsweet. “Oh, don’t be such a gloomy Gus.” She laid one around each of our necks. The leaves itched the back of my neck, the smell of meadowsweet overwhelming. Madge stepped back, hands clasped together as she admired us. “There. Oh…don’t they just look darling?”

“Good enough to eat,” Mr. Carrigan grinned. “Alrighty-roo. Step number two.”

I widened my eyes as he whipped out a large, curved knife and a wooden bowl. He came around the island, heading for Sam first.

“Don’t you fucking dare!” I shouted.

“D-don’t!” Sam yelled as they brought the knife to the inside of Sam’s straining arm, creating a long cut down the inside, his blood quickly dripping into the bowl.

“Leave him alone, you son of a bitch!” Dean yelled, his wrists red from pulling at them.

“Hear how they talk to us? To gods?” Mr. Carrigan said to Madge as he passed the bowl and the knife to her as he rounded the island again. “Listen, pal, back in the day, we were worshiped by millions.”

“Times have changed!”

“Tell me about it. All of a sudden, this Jesus character is the hot new thing in town. All of a sudden, our – our altars are being burned down, and we’re being hunted down like common monsters!” I clenched my jaw, watching as Madge set the bowl down on the island, the two of them adding various ingredients to it.

“But did we say a peep?” Madge chimed in. I watched as Mr. Carrigan picked up a small pair of pliers, examining them as he scratched away a bit of dried blood. “Oh ho ho, no, no, no, we did not. Two millennium. We kept a low profile; we got jobs, a mortgage. We...what was that word, dear?”

Mr. Carrigan popped a piece of peanut brittle into his mouth. “We assimilated.”

“Yeah, we assimilated,” Madge repeated. “Why, we play bridge on Tuesday and Fridays. We’re just like everybody else.”

“You’re not blending in as smooth as you think, lady,” Dean retorted.

Madge came around to Dean this time with the knife. “This might pinch a bit, dear.”

“Stop!” I yelled at her as she brought the knife down in a vertical line on the inside of his arm, Sam and I shouting at her. Blood began pooling into the bowl.

“You bitch!” Dean shouted.

“Oh, my goodness me! Somebody owes a nickel to the swear jar!” She said, pointing the knife at him. “Oh, do you know what I say when I feel like swearing? ‘Fudge’.”

Dean watched her for a beat, “I’ll try and remember that!”

“You kids have no idea how lucky you are,” Mr. Carrigan said, coming around with the pliers. “There was a time when kids came from miles around, just to be sitting where you are.”

Mr. Carrigan stopped in front of Sam’s chair as Madge forced Dean’s fist open and close to get more blood out. Sam looked up at Mr. Carrigan, eyebrows furrowed. “What do you think you’re doing with those?”

“You fudging touch me again and I’ll fudging kill you!” Dean yelled as Madge went for his other arm.

“Very good!”

My head was bouncing between them, unsure of where to look next. I felt completely hopeless. Madge moved to Dean’s other arm, slicing down the middle. Sam began to plead with Mr. Carrigan, “No. No. Don’t.”

“Your turn, dearie!” Madge said, holding my arm down on the arm rest with a death grip, her nails digging into my skin as she sliced a similar vertical line through my arm. My brain couldn’t even comprehend the cut as I watched in horror as Mr. Carrigan grasped Sam’s closed fist, prying it open. Sam tried to fight against him, but the god was stronger as he yanked on of Sam’s fingers from his closed fist and quickly clamped the pliers down on his fingernail, pulling backwards.

Sam let out a scream, throwing his head back. The skin beneath his nail bloodied as the nail slowly came out before finally he yanked it and held it high. “Oh, we got a winner!”

“You’re a psycho, you know that!?” I yelled at him, desperately trying to get myself untied, my wrist beneath the ropes becoming slick with my own blood. 

Mr. Carrigan tossed the nail into the bowl with our blood. Madge began mixing it with a wooden cooking spoon. “What else, dear?”

Sam and Dean panted softly, slumped in their seats. Mr. Carrigan put a hand on his hip, thinking. “Well, let’s see. Uh, fingernail, blood. Oh…sweet Peter on a popsicle stick…I forgot the tooth!”

My heart sank. “Oh, fuck me.”

“Merry Christmas, you guys,” Dean muttered to us, Sam and I groaning in response.

I watched with dread as Mr. Carrigan shuffled through his tools before settling on a pair of even larger pliers than before. Then, he came toward us, walking past Dean and stopping at me. 

I forced my head back as far as I could but he snatched my jaw, holding it open. “Open wide…and say, ‘aaah’.”

I squeezed my eyes shut as he forced the pliers into the back of my mouth, stopping just short of my esophagus. I could feel him hesitating over a molar. I felt the pliers clamp down on one way in the back, snug between two other teeth. My body tensed, my hands gripping the armrest, bracing myself.

I could hear both Sam and Dean protesting, shouting at Mr. Carrigan to stop but he didn’t listen. I peeked my eyes open to where he was smiling down at me wickedly. “This is going to hurt.”

The second he began pulling up on the tooth, I screamed in pain, my mouth instantly filling with blood, so much I nearly choked on it. After what felt like forever, he yanked his arm back, forcing the tooth out of place.

I screamed even louder, the pain creating white spots in my vision. I gasped for air around the blood as it spilled out of my mouth and onto Mr. Carrigan’s hand where he was still holding my jaw open. 

He held the tooth up, beaming with excitement. “Perfect! It’s rare we find one without any cavities!” He let go of my jaw, throwing the tooth into the bowl. I instantly leaned forward, coughing the blood onto my lap.

“I’m gonna kill you,” Dean growled to Mr. Carrigan before looking to Madge, “and then you.” Then, the doorbell rang. The Carrigan’s looked to each other, unsure. 

“You gonna get that?” Sam asked, hopeful. “You should get that.”

The two of them sighed, throwing the pliers on the counter. “Come on.”

We watched as they left the room, answering the front door. Instantly, we began pulling at the ropes around our wrists and ankles. Dean was able to slip out first, the blood from his arms making his wrists slick. He quickly untied his feet before coming to Sam and I, using the curved knife to set us free.

“You guys okay?” He asked.

“Peachy,” I muttered, spitting a wad of blood onto the floor and wiping my mouth with the sleeve of my shirt. “What do we do now?”

Sam looked around the room, contemplating our limited options before pointing Dean and I toward one set of doors leading to the living room while Sam took the other. Dean and I pressed ourselves against the wall of the hallway, listening quietly to the Carrigan’s talking casually to their neighbors.

I looked to Dean as we heard the front door close, nodding to him, just in time to hear Madge’s shrill voice. “Now, where were we?”

Sam slammed his door first, cueing our signal as Dean slammed ours, the two of us pushing all of our weight against them to keep it closed. The door shook with how hard they were banging on them. I dug my heels into the carpet, my right hand grasping the doorframe, Dean and I bouncing against the reverberation.

I looked to my left, past Dean where a tall white cabinet sat. I motioned to it, Dean simply pulling out a long drawer, blocking the Carrigan’s from successfully opened the door. We ran the hallway to the other side of the kitchen where Sam was desperately holding on. Dean and I pressed our hands against the door.

“What do we do now? The evergreen stakes are in the basement!” Dean shouted over the pounding of the doors.

“Well, we’re gonna need more evergreen!” I shouted, leaning my shoulder against the door now.

“No shit!” Dean yelled back sarcastically. I rolled my eyes to the ceiling.

“I think I just found us some more,” Sam said. I followed Sam’s line of sight to the large Christmas tree at the end of the living room just ahead of us. “Help me get this.”

Dean pushed a large China cabinet as Sam pulled it in front of the door, plates and snow globes crashing to the ground. The three of us ran toward the Christmas tree before they could break loose. The small ornaments and porcelain Santas inside were rattling noisily as we threw the tree to the floor, pulling at the branches. I simultaneously pulled at the tree and watched the China cabinet as it shook violently. I squatted down, working a branch forward and backwards before it finally broke free.

Sam and Dean shook their branches free of the ornaments and lights wrapped around them, throwing them to the ground when the pounding at the kitchen door suddenly stopped. We silently looked at each other, creeping toward the door when a scream came from behind Dean as Mr. Carrigan came out of the dark, knocking Dean swiftly to the ground. Sam went after him, stake in hand.

Madge followed shortly after, grinning at me. “You little thing...I loved that tree.”

I pulled my arm back, ready to stab her with the stake when her fist connected with my jaw, more blood spurting out of my mouth. I fell backwards, collapsing onto a chair and dropping to the floor. I stood, half hazardously swinging the branch in the air that connected with her cheek. I glanced to Sam and Dean where Mr. Carrigan had knocked Dean to the ground, his fists flying over his face as Sam stumbled to his feet behind him, desperately searching for his stake that’d gone missing in the fight.

I looked back to where Madge was running toward me. I forced the branch out, plunging it into the middle of her stomach. Her eyes went wide, her hands inches from my throat, her fingers curling. Blood poured down her abdomen and onto my hands and arms. 

Mr. Carrigan swiveled around from where he was straddling Dean, his eyes wide in terror. “Madge!”

Sam ran forward, knocking Mr. Carrigan sideways as Dean quickly sat up, using his branch to impale Mr. Carrigan twice through the middle of his chest.

I panted, dropping Madge to the floor beside Mr. Carrigan, their lifeless eyes staring up at the ceiling. I wiped away the blood dripping from my chin, looking to Sam and Dean. I smiled, blood coating my teeth. “Merry Christmas.”

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

From where I laid on the couch, I clasped my hands over my stomach tightly, squeezing my eyes shut as I situated my head on the armrest. “Okay. Just do it.”

I could see the light of the flashlight even with my eyes closed. I peeked an eye out to Dean with a needle and thread in one hand and Sam beside him, holding the flashlight over my mouth.

“I’ll make it quick,” Dean said.

I reluctantly opened my mouth, pulling away quickly before Dean could even come close with the needle. “Did you wash your hands.”

Dean rolled his eyes, “You want this hole in your mouth gone or you want it to get infected?” I sighed, laying back down and opening my mouth again. “Deep breath.” I let a long breath through my nose as Dean pierced my gums for the first stitch, pulling the thread through. I groaned, my eyes watering against my will as I resisted the urge to pull away from him. 

“Only a few more,” Sam said from my left. His face screwed up as he watched Dean work. I let out another breath of air through my nose as Dean made another quick stitch. “Last one, kid.”

The final stitch came and went quickly. Dean snipped the thread, looking to Sam. “Should I sew her mouth shut while I’m at it?”

“Get off me,” I said, quickly sitting up. I rubbed at my jaw. “Thanks.”

“Here, drink this,” Sam said, handing me a bottle of whiskey as he clicked the light off. I looked from him to the bottle and then back to him. “C’mon, El. Gotta kill whatever bacteria’s in there from those pliers.”

I snatched the bottle, wincing as the alcohol burned my stitches. I handed it back to him, coughing as I tossed myself onto my bed, curling up on my side.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

“Sammy! Sammy! Wake up!” Sam’s eyes flew open as he sat up, Ellie’s face only inches from his, her hair sticking up in wild tangles. “Santa was here, Sam!”

Sam slowly sat up, rubbing his eyes with his fist as he noticed the large pine branch with scraggly leaves in the middle of the room, decorated in multi-colored Christmas lights. Two presents were neatly wrapped beneath it.

Ellie jumped off his bed, running toward the couch as she sat in front of the tree on her knees, bouncing excitedly. Sam looked over to Dean who was smiling at Ellie before looking over at him. Sam sat up further, lowering his voice so Ellie wouldn’t hear, “Dad was here?”

“Yeah. Look at this. We made a killing,” Dean beamed.

“Why didn't he try to wake me up?”

Dean hesitated. “He tried to, like a thousand times.”

Sam had always been a light sleeper. He furrowed his eyebrows. “He did?”

“Yeah,” Dean said before changing the subject. “Did I tell you he would give us Christmas, or what? Go on, dive in.”

Sam sat beside his sister, handing her one of the gifts as they tore into them. Ellie beamed, holding up a small, silver bike bell. She rang it twice, laughing hysterically. “A bell, Sammy! Look, Dean, Santa got me a bell!”

She flicked it multiple times in awe. Dean smiled, looking to Sam who was staring down at the colorful baton with streamers coming out both ends in his hands.

Sam looked to his other brother. “Dad never showed, did he?”

“Yeah, he did, I swear.”

“Dean…where’d you get this stuff?” Sam asked, not having to lower his voice thanks the the incessant ringing of Ellie’s new prized possession.

Dean sighed, finally giving in, “Nice house up the block. I swear I didn’t know they were lame presents. Look, I’m sure dad would have been here if he could.”

“If he’s alive.”

“Don’t say that,” Dean reprimanded instantly. “Of course he’s alive. He’s dad.”

Sam sat in silence before pulling out the small gift he’d been wrapping in newspaper the night before. He handed it over to Sam as Ellie climbed onto the couch, cradling the bell. “Here, take this. It’s from me and Ellie.”

Dean shook his head, confused. “No. No, that’s for dad.”

Sam looked Dean directly into his eyes, making sure Dean knew he meant what he was saying. “Dad lied to me. I want you to have it.”

“You sure?”

“I’m sure.”

Sam shook the present in front of Dean before he took it. Ellie sat forward eagerly as he unwrapped it. It was a necklace and dangling from it was a small, golden amulet. Dean wasn’t sure what to say. He’d never gotten a gift like this before. “Thank you, you guys. I– I love it.”

“Put it on,” Ellie encouraged. Dean slipped the necklace over his head, admiring it.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

It snowed the next morning. Inches of it covering every part of the roads and sidewalks. The news over the car radio called it a Christmas miracle. I smiled softly as I clicked it off once I’d gotten back into the parking lot, the yellow lights from inside the motel spilling out onto the sidewalk.

I knew something was off when Dean asked me to take the car for a beer run, considering it wasn’t even noon and he’d only let me drive the car if he were on his death bed and even then, he’d have a second thought about it.

I pushed the motel door open with my shoulder where I could instantly hear...Christmas music?

Have yourself, a merry little Christmas.

I pushed the door open further, stopping when I saw Sam and Dean standing in front of a small table-top Christmas tree, decorated in multi-colored lights and car air fresheners. A tinsel ‘Merry Christmas!’ sign was taped to the wall above the TV.

“Hey! You get the beer?” Sam asked, beaming.

I stopped in my tracks, the six pack growing heavy around my fingers and the snow from my boots melting onto the floor. “What’s all this?”

“What do you think it is? It’s– it’s Christmas,” Dean said.

Our troubles will be out of sight...

I smiled softly, coming deeper into the room, shutting the door behind me. I couldn't help but feel giddy inside, and a little sad, too. “What made you change your mind?”

“I talked him into it,” Dean admitted, smiling. “I figured...one more Christmas wouldn’t hurt.”

“Here, uh...try the eggnog. Let me know if it needs some more kick,” Sam said, passing me a small plastic cup.

I sipped on it, my eyes going wide at the burn of alcohol down my throat and especially on the fresh stitches. I coughed, shaking my head as I chuckled. “No, we’re good.”

“Yeah?” Dean laughed.

“Yeah,” I said, laughing, too.

“Good. Well, uh, have a seat. Let’s do…Christmas stuff, or whatever,” Sam said, motioning to the couch.

I excitedly pulled up an arm chair, shedding my jacket. “Alright, first things first.” I set down the plastic bag in my hands, pulling out two gifts, still in the brown paper bags from the grocery store. “Merry Christmas, guys.”

“Where’d you get these?” Sam laughed, taking them.

“Someplace real special,” I nodded, Sam and Dean cocking an eyebrow at me. “The gas station down the street.” I confessed. Sam and Dean laughed. “Open them up.”

“Well, great minds think alike, El,” Dean said as him and Sam pulled out their own gifts for each of us.

“Really?” I said, taking the presents.

“Skin mags!” Sam laughed, before opening mine.. “And...shaving cream.”

“You like?” Dean asked.

Sam flipped the shaving cream in his hand, as he let a beat of silence pass. “Yeah...yeah.”

...upon the highest bough...

I opened mine next, and I could tell by just one side what the large box was. “Yes!” I laughed, holding up the box of Cheerios. “I haven't had these in forever!” They smiled as I moved on to the one from Dean. “And socks!” I pulled the socks on, laughing. “Okay Dean, your turn.”

Dean tore the newspaper off Sam’s gift, a bottle of oil for his car and then a candy bar from me. Dean beamed at the gifts. “Look at this. Fuel for me and fuel for my baby...these are awesome. Thanks.”

“Good,” Sam said softly, the room falling into silence aside from the music playing.

I set the box of cereal down, grabbing my plastic cup. “Merry Christmas.”

“Yeah. Merry Christmas,” Sam said, blinking twice. He clinked my cup with his, shortly followed by Dean. I took another tentative sip from my cup, admiring the lights. When I looked over, Dean was staring up at them, too. “Hey, y–...” I looked to Sam, who suddenly stopped, changing the subject. “Do you feel like watching the game?”

“Absolutely,” Dean said, and I nodded in agreement. 

Sam smiled sadly, grabbing the remote from the coffee table as he flicked on the small TV. I pulled my feet under me, my eyes drifting toward Sam and Dean, who was still admiring the decorations. I swear I could’ve seen tears in Dean’s eyes, a small smile playing on his lips.

I settled back against the chair, resting my head against the warn fabric, the alcohol warming my insides. For once, the world didn’t seem so terrible, after all.

Until then, we’ll have to muddle through somehow.

So have yourself, a merry little Christmas now.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

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[skiller0dani]

Palace Garden | General Kirigan

M A S T E R L I S T Shadow and Bone Masterlist

smut requests info w.c | 4.8k summary | You are the General’s personal Healer, he doesn’t go anywhere without you. So when General Kirigan is invited to the King Pyotr’s annual ‘end of year’ party at the Grand Palace, you join him. Except the King’s second son, Nikolai, takes a special interest in you. 

song

My Shadow and Bone pieces will probably include Spoilers from the SHOW. I have not yet read the books, I have only read through most of Six of Crows. I’m finishing that book as we speak, I have only seen the Shadow and Bone tv show, I haven’t read the books. 

PSA: I write with limited knowledge of who Nikolai Lantsov is, although I know he is royalty (King of Ravka I believe) but in the show he isn’t the King, so I made him a Prince. Don’t be mad at me, this is all for fun and it’s FICTION. 

“You’ve received another invitation from the King, just how long do you plan to ignore him?” You snicker as you drop a letter onto the General’s desk. It’s an invitation to King Pyotr’s End of Year Celebration, attended by decorated Soldiers from both the First and Second Army, and hopefully the esteemed General. The previous year the General had ‘urgent’ matters to attend to so he was unable to attend the dreaded party in his words. In truth you always had fun at the King’s Celebrations so you didn’t know what always soured his fun. 

“Until the day after next.” His shoulders were rigid and his tone was clipped. 

“General, tonight is the Celebration. You must answer the King by then, you know that.” You chuckled with a roll of your eyes, watching as the General begrudgingly tore open the envelope. You watched as his eyes scanned the paper in front of him, his eyebrows pinching together in frustration. 

“General?” You knew it was unwise to engage him when he was in a state of agitation but in all honesty, you didn’t fear him the way everyone else did. General Kirigan swiftly ignored you and reached for a pen, and upon further examination your eyes caught your name written on the letter from the King. 

‘I am most eager to meet your esteemed Healer, Y/N.’ 

The General tends to get a tad, possessive, of the things he deems belong to him. You were one the things the General had claimed as his own, and anybody who shows a particular interest in you tends to annoy him. You can see the tension growing in his shoulders, and while you might not know how deeply he cares for you, you know he sees you as more than just his Healer. Hopefully, he sees you as a sort of friend as well. 

“Are we going to attend the Celebration General?” You ask cautiously, watching as Kirigan’s expression shifts from mildly annoyed to thoroughly agitated. You make sure to keep at least one foot distance between you and the General at all times, he tends to be a bit unpredictable when he’s upset. You watch as the General stands, yanking at the buttons of his Kefta before tossing the heavy fabric onto his bed. 

“Yes, we are. Apparently both Princes will be in attendance.” The General says through a huff, reaching for his dress jacket- the black one with gold detailing he wears for social events. The Princes? Neither of the Princes have been spotted inside the Grand Palace for a few months now, it’s no wonder the King has chosen tonight for the Celebration. The end of the year isn’t for a few weeks and normally the Celebration is closer to the years change. You try to mask the mild excitement you feel at the prospect of meeting either of the Princes, although you don’t hear much about Prince Vasily. Most of the young Grisha women training in the Little Palace whisper about Prince Nikolai. 

“Does this please you?” The General asks, his tone distracted as he finishes buttoning his Kefta in the mirror. You shake your head, your eyes briefly catching his. 

“I couldn’t care either way General.” You say with a shrug, and you swear you see the tiniest smile grace the corner of his lips. For as long as you could remember you’ve had a thing for the General, what women wouldn’t? He’s tall, handsome, has dark hair, dark eyes, and he’s powerful. You doubt some Prince could ever compare to General Kirigan, not that you’re hoping one will. A Tailor swiftly enters the General’s chambers then, her eyes landing on you. 

“A package has come for Y/N sir, and she should be getting ready for the party soon.” She says, her eyes only briefly meeting the General’s before flickering back towards the floor. His eyebrows stitch together when he sees the box she holds. You reach for it before his hand raises, “give it to me.” He instructs sternly. The Tailor quickly hands the package to the General and you see an unreadable expression pull onto his face. He plucks a note from the top lid of the package, and hands it to you before opening the package. 

I await our meeting with bated breath dear Y/N. 

- Prince Nikolai

Inside the package is easily the most beautiful dress you’ve ever seen. It’s blood red with silver detailing, and it goes all the way to the floor. You take the dress from the General, stroking the smooth silk. He can see the twinkling in your eyes as you eye the gift from the Prince, it sends surges of frustration through his tightening chest. The Tailor ushers you into the General’s bathroom so you can change, and the General turns his back for privacy. It’s been like this for some time now, you hardly ever get ready for social events in your own room anymore. You’d been the General’s Healer for quite a few years now, and on more than one occasion he’s had to provide some Healing for you as well. He’s seen your entire upper torso bare from when he had to heal a stab wound through your chest. Needless to say, you were probably too comfortable in the presence of the General. 

You stepped out of the bathroom and the General turned, his eyes landing on you. For a second he didn’t know what to say, you were absolutely stunning. Your hair had been let in loose curls down your back, normally you wore it up and out of the way so he didn’t normally get to admire your hair falling around your face. The dress hugged each of your curves beautifully, but the color was irritating him. Surely it was tailored to match whatever the Prince was wearing and General Kirigan couldn’t let that slide. 

“Well? Am I presentable?” You ask the General, knowing you’ll need his say-so  before you’re party ready. 

“Nearly.” The General says, his voice trailing off into a whisper as he leans over towards the Tailor. You can see her smile but it’s quickly masked, and you don’t know what he’s saying to her. Quickly the Tailor ushers you back into the bathroom and fumbles around for a few things from her kit. She turns back to you with concentration on her face and soon the appearance of your dress begins to change. The red color fades away and is replaced with an inky black color, and the silver detailing morph into gold detailing. Soon the dress remains mostly the same, except for the fact that it matches the Kefta the General is wearing. When you step out of the bathroom again, you see a pleased look upon the General’s face. 

“Now you’re ready.” 

»»————-　✼　————-««

Your arm was hooked with the Generals as you entered the main hall of the Grand Palace, your eyes immediately traveling to all the ornate decorations covering the walls. Decorated window curtains, glass chandeliers, a wide ballroom laid out in front of you. It was crowded with people, a soft Orchestra playing in the background, and soft chatter. The General wore an easy smile across his face. He was keeping up appearances, you know he didn’t want to be here. His arm held you to his side tightly, and looming before you was the throne for the King and Queen. Stood on each side of them were the Princes, Vasily stood next to the King, and Nikolai next to the Queen. The King looked positively delighted to see the General. 

“General Kirigan! Good you could make it. You remember my sons Vasily and Nikolai don’t you?” The King gestured to both of the Princes, and while Vasily regarded the General with a polite smile, Nikolai’s eyes were firmly on you. 

“Yes of course, allow me to introduce the Princes to my Personal Healer- Y/N.” General Kirigan sounds almost proud as he introduces you, and you bow for the Princes who both send you a smile. Although Nikolai’s smile is flirtier then this brothers, who remains polite. The Queen’s eyes trail down your gown, noticing the slight shimmer to the fabric. 

“Your dress is lovely, you must have had a good Tailor.” She smiles and you blush as you take your place next to the General, your arm slipping through his with ease. 

“Well actually it was a gift from Prince Nikolai. T-Thank you for such a generous gift!” You inform her shyly, feeling General Kirigan’s body go slightly rigid beside you. You carefully peek at the General, and you notice he’s locked in a heated stare-down with Prince Nikolai. 

“You’re very welcome, did the color not suit you?” He asks and it’s just now that you notice the Kefta he’s wearing matched your dresses previous color perfectly. 

“Oh not at all-” 

“I thought it would be better for my Healer to match my Kefta, your highness.” The General cuts in, his voice polite but firm. The General says it as if you should match because you’re his Healer but you know what he’s really saying. He’s telling the Prince he wanted you to match his Kefta and not Nikolai’s, General Kirigan is saying that you belong to him and the Prince knows that.  

“Of course.” The Prince’s tone is tense, and the smile on his face looks practiced. You stay firmly placed by the Generals side, offering a polite smile as the General nearly drags you away from the royalty and further into the party. You can feel the frustration washing off the General in waves, your hand curling around his bicep a little tighter as a weak attempt to calm him. Kirigan almost cant stand the sight of you wearing a dress the Prince picked for you, but seeing the Princes face when he realized the dress he picked no longer matched his Kefta, but the General’s instead was wonderful enough to make up for it. 

“General? I apologize but you’re needed urgently-” A Grisha solider pushes gently through the crowd and begins to whisper hastily in the General’s ear. You see annoyance cross onto the General’s face before he shoos the Grisha away. He turns towards you, leaning down to brush his lips over the shell of your ear. The small action sends shivers down your spine. 

“Can you manage by yourself for a few minutes? There’s something I need to attend to, but I should be back shortly.” He whispers and you quickly offer him a nod before slipping your arm from his. General Kirigan shoots you an apologetic look before following the path the Grisha took before he disappears from sight. You hold a glass in your palm, although you’re not sure what the shimmering liquid is. You feel slightly out of place, and everyone steers clear of you. They saw you with the General, and are probably going to continue to ignore you to prevent receiving the Generals wrath.

“Y/N, right?” You hear a voice to your right and you know who it is before you even turn. Only one person is brave enough to approach somebody the General has placed an ‘unspoken’ claim on. 

“Prince Nikolai.” You smile politely, taking a step to the side to create a small amount of distance from you and the Prince. He sips at his glass, a twinkling of mischievousness in his eyes. 

“So tell me the real reason the color of your dress was altered. I thought we would have complimented each other nicely.” His voice is smooth like honey, his eyes a cool amber. It’s not that you find the Prince unattractive, quite the opposite actually. You just aren’t interested in him that way, and his good looks could never compare to General Kirigan. The Prince is clean cut and refined, while the General is rugged and untamed. They’re opposites in every way, and you just can’t be attracted to anybody else. Prince Nikolai could never compare to the General. 

“I apologize Prince Nikolai, but I wanted to match the General.” You say with ease, finally allowing yourself to take a sip of the mystery drink in your hand. A look you can’t place briefly crosses over Prince Nikolai’s face, if you didn’t know any better you’d say he looked hurt. 

“I see.” Is all he says and for the next few minutes you feel a tense silence before a hand presses against the small of your back. You turn your head and nearly breathe a sigh of relief. 

“General.” You smile, although his eyes are firmly on Prince Nikolai. His hand gently pulls you closer to his side, and your heart races the tiniest bit faster when his hand curls around your hip to rest there. You know you and the General aren’t together, but the placement of his hand tells people otherwise. You lean further into his side, and you can feel his body relax ever-so-slightly as you do so. When the Orchestra plays a slow song, General Kirigan glances down at you with a raised brow. 

“Prince Nikolai, if you’ll excuse us.” General Kirigan says when you notice other couples moving to the dance floor, including the King and Queen. He turns then and leads you out to the ballroom floor, his hand pressing against your lower back, holding your chest flush with his. He takes your hand with his free hand and soon you are both gently swaying to the music. The lights in the ballroom dim, the stars twinkling outside becoming even brighter. 

“General, could I ask you a question?” You ask softly, relaxing into his embrace. When you hear him hum softly in response you turn your head up to look at him, he towers over you. You nibble on your bottom lip, your heart beginning to race like mad in your chest. His grip on your palm shifts to allow his fingers to lace through yours gently. 

“Why does Prince Nikolai make you so...upset?” You ask, and deep down you know the answer. You just need him to say it. General Kirigan’s eyes flicker to meet yours, an expression on his face that you can’t read. His body presses more firmly against yours when his hold on your lower back tightens, pulling you even closer to him then you were before. You wished you could stay here in this moment with him forever, just the two of you and nobody else. You know that in your heart, you’ve fallen in love with General Kirigan but you doubt he’d ever feel the same way. 

“Because I dislike the amount of attention he gives you.” General Kirigan admits, his eyes turning away from yours. You thumb rubs circles over the back of his hand subconsciously as your mind tries to grasp what he just said. 

“Prince Nikolai could devote his entire life to attempting to impress me, and it would make no difference General.” You say softly, drawing his gaze back to yours. Your faces are nearly touching, your noses brushing against each others as you lean up on your tippy toes to be closer to him. 

“Why not?” He can’t help himself as he asks, surely there’s not a chance you could ever feel for him what he feels for you. Part of him hates himself for being so weak, for allowing his heart to care for you, for allowing a weakness to crawl into his heart. 

“Because he could never mean to me what you mean to me General, no matter how hard he tries...he could never be you.” You whisper softly, your cheeks burning hot and your eyes refusing to meet his. General Kirigan feels every emotion he’s tried to push away flood through him then, joy, excitement, glee, pure happiness. A small smile overtakes his face as he leans down to whisper in your ear for the second time tonight. 

“Aleksander.” 

“What?” You’re startled to say the least, pulling back to look into his eyes. Did he just...? 

“That’s my name.” He clarifies, a full smile on his face now. You feel your heart pounding heavily in your chest when you suddenly hear a loud explosion. Startled, you push yourself into General- Aleksander’s chest. His arms curl around your body as the floor to ceiling windows are thrown open, and fireworks are seen outside. Immediately people flood out onto the Palace garden to view the fireworks, and Aleksander is gently leading you outside with them. Your hand is still locked with his as your head tips up to watch the colors explode in the sky. The Alkemi really pulled all the stops for this firework show. Your breath is stolen right from your lungs as you watch the fireworks go off, but soon you feel Aleksander’s fingers turning your face to look at him. Your eyes lock onto his before you’re leaning forward to connect your lips to his. 

His arms wrap around your torso to pull you against him tighter, your arms flying up around his shoulders. You hear the fireworks exploding above you and the cheering of the crowd around you, but soon all of them fade away until it’s just you and Aleksander out in the garden alone. You don’t notice the people cheering for the fireworks around you, and you certainly don’t notice Prince Nikolai eyeing you with a broken heart from across the garden. He’s heard much of your victories in battle, and he knows more about you then you thought. When you part from Aleksander, you see a smile on his face and you know that same smile is mirrored on your own face. 

»»————-　✼　————-««

By the time you make it back into Aleksander’s room, the moon is at it’s peak in the sky but you don’t feel tired. You stand shyly in his doorway, usually this is around the time you’d bid the General goodnight and begin the short trek to your room. But you’re not ready to say goodnight, you’re not ready for tonight to be over just yet and you can only hope he isn’t either. You bite the inside of your cheek just as you turn to head back into the hallway. 

“Leaving so soon?” You hear his voice cut through the silence, and when you turn you see hurt flashing in his eyes. Does he want you to stay? 

“I assumed you’d want me to go...like I normally do.” You say softly, your cheeks burning hot. 

“Stay.” Is all he says, and it’s all you need to hear. You take a few steps into his room, shutting the door softly behind you. Aleksander crosses the room to you, his hands cupping your cheeks and pulling your lips back onto his. Your hands grab at the lapels of his Kefta, drawing him ever closer to you. His lips move languidly against yours before the kiss grows more desperate, his hands yanking your legs around his waist as he lifts you easily. His palms rest on the globes of your ass, quickly turning you and placing you down on the desk, not caring about the papers that are sent scattering off the desk. Your hands are trembling as your fingers work to unfasten the buttons of his Kefta. His hands don’t know where to touch first, gently grasping at the underside of your breasts before trailing down your curves, feeling how the dress hugs you so perfectly. 

“G-General!” You gasp as his lips latch onto your pulse point, his hands digging into your hips. You finally unbutton his Kefta completely, pushing the fabric from his shoulders as soon as it’s freed. You yank at his dress shirt until its untucked from his pants, and his hands reach up your back to pull at the zipper securing your dress. 

“Desperate?” Aleksander teases as he slowly pulls the zipper down your dress, the shoulders falling down your arms. You nod frantically, in truth you’ve never felt this desperate for anybody in your whole life. Your palms cup his cheeks, pulling his lips back to yours as his hands pull your dress down your body until it bunches at your waist. You’re practically panting against his lips as one of Aleksander’s hands slides up your thigh before he pulls away from you. He pulls back, just far enough that your lips can’t reach his. You try anyway, leaning forward and chasing his lips with an open mouth. He chuckles softly but stays just out of reach. 

“What’s wrong?” You whine, your hands resting on his shoulders. Aleksander has a smile on his face, his hands are still on your hips, holding you tightly. He can’t believe that you’re here in front of him, letting him kiss you, letting him undress you. If only you knew all of the terrible things he’s done with the very same hands that are touching you, you’d probably want nothing to do with him. Aleksander brushes that thought away. 

“Nothing, I just wanted to take in the moment.” He smiles but you groan, pulling helplessly at his shirt. He chuckles before leaning back towards you, pressing his lips to yours again. He loves that you’re so eager for him, so needy for him. Aleksander finishes pushing your dress down your legs, leaving you in nothing more than a pair of panties. His hands reach up to cup the underside of your breasts, his lips moving quickly against yours. Your hands reach to the hem of his shirt, and you part briefly to pull his dress shirt over his head. 

“Sure about this?” Aleksander mumbles against your lips as his hand dips into your panties to drag a finger through your drenched folds. You nod helplessly against his lips, your fingers digging into his shoulders when he pushes a lewd finger into your tight opening. He thrusts his finger into you quickly, loving the desperate whines coming from your lips. 

“Words please.” He says softly, quickly pressing a second finger into you. Your nails press crescent moons into his shoulders when he crooks his fingers into you, making you squeal. 

“Yes, yes I’m sure about this.” You gasp, his thumb making contact with your clit and rubbing tight little circles. Your lips press firmly to his again, and he swallows all of your moans. Aleksander groans softly when he feels you grind your hips into his hand, your back arching as his other hand slides up your stomach to pinch your nipple. 

“God all I want is you Aleksander-” You moan, saying his real name for the first time. Hearing you moan his name has shivers trembling down his back, and his fingers pulling out of your tight heat. Your hands are reaching for the waistband of his pants, fumbling with the button before you give up and Aleksander is swatting your hands away. He quickly undoes his pants and reaches into them to pull his hardening cock out. With one hand, he rips your panties from your body, leaving you naked and sprawled across his desk. It’s not a sight he’ll ever forget. He steps into your spread legs, one hand on his cock and the other hand on your hip as he presses his tip against your slippery folds. Your hands pull his chest against yours as you press your face into his neck when he pushes into you. Both of you release a moan simultaneously when you feel him stretching you open. 

“Please tell me this isn’t a one time thing-” 

“Stop talking.” He growls before pressing his lips against yours as he continues to work himself inch by inch into you. You mewl against his lips as he bottoms out, his tip nestled against the spot that makes your toes curl. It burns just a bit, but you’re still panting against him as he stays completely still inside you. You try to pull your hips back but his hands lock you in place, a playful smile on his face as he watches you roll your hips. His pupils are blown open in lust as he holds you against him, and he feels you growing wetter by the second. You want him to move so badly, you feel tears of frustration pushing at the backs of your eyes as you weakly try to once again get him to move inside you. 

“Move please.” You beg shamlessly and Aleksander presses a quick kiss to your lips. 

“You have to promise me something first.” He says softly and you groan, rolling your hips desperately again. He’s so hard inside you, you can feel your walls squeezing him tightly. 

“Anything!” You nearly cry out, you ignore him when you hear him chuckle softly. 

“Promise me that you’re mine. I can’t have anybody else seeing you this way.” Aleksander growls, starting to feel a little impatient himself. Your hands pull his bare chest against yours, your lips a hair’s distance away from his. 

“I promise. I’m yours, only yours.” You promise, your hips wriggling against his once more. Seemingly satisfied, Aleksander pulls his hips back and slams back into you, causing you to cry out as he sets a brutal pace. He slams into you, ramming his tip against your g-spot repeatedly. You cry out as his lips latch onto your neck, leaving bruises in his wake as he bites and suckles any skin he can find. Your arms wind around his shoulders as he slams into you, reducing you to nothing more than a boneless moaning mess underneath him. Your lips press to his and you kiss him with a fiery passion, your body rocking against his. Suddenly Aleksander pulls out, gently yanking you off the desk to bend you over it. Your toes barely touch the ground before he’s sliding into you again, taking you roughly from behind. You hear him hiss through clenched teeth as his hand runs up your spine to twist your hair around his hand. He yanks you up onto your elbows by your hair, holding you in place as he keeps his brutal pace. 

“Oh yes, yes-” All you can do is cry out and moan underneath him, all of your thoughts reduced to nothing more than endless praises to his cock. His grip on your hair loosens before your upper body collapses against the desk again, and his hands move instead to your hips to draw your body back against him to meet his thrusts. Pulling you back against him allows him to ram even deeper inside you, and you can feel his tip hit your cervix every time he thrusts into you. One of his hands reaches around your body to pinch and roll your clit and as soon as he does you’re crying out and moaning like a bitch in heat. His teeth are clenched as he groans above you, you feel absolutely heavenly. 

“Fuck, fuck! Gonna cum, I’m gonna cum!” You cry out helplessly, your hip bones screaming in pain every time they’re rammed against the edge of the desk. Aleksander doesn’t slow down even for a second, continuing to brutally pound into you, desperate to chase his own release. Aleksander yanks your torso up so that your back is pressed to his chest and one of his hands reaches down to roll your clit. You cry out desperately as your orgasm washes through you, causing you to clamp down around him tightly. Aleksander fucks up into you, slamming into your overstimulated body until you’re violently trembling and soon he’s cumming in hot spurts. Your exhausted body nearly collapses to the floor when he pulls out and steps away. Aleksander immediately reaches forward to catch you before you crumple to the floor. 

He scoops you into his arms and gently carries you to the bed, and you practically melt into the mattress. You see concern pooling in his eyes as he pulls the blankets over you, his thumbs brushing over the bruises on your neck and shoulders, plus the purple bruises on your hipbones from the desk. He leans down to press his lips to your gently and you smile into the kiss. 

“I know that look, stop worrying. I can Heal myself in the morning, I’m too tired now.” You reassure him and his worry eases a bit before he’s standing to turn out all of the lights and slide into the bed next to you. Aleksander reaches over to pull your limp body against his chest. Pressing a kiss to your head, he holds you against him tightly. 

“Did I go too hard?” He asks into the silence and you nuzzle into his warm chest. 

“It was perfect Aleksander.” You promise, pressing a kiss against his chest. He relaxes then with you in his arms. Soon he hears your breathing even out and he knows you’re asleep. Aleksander knows by now that he’s falling in love with you, but for your sake he has to keep his distance. He’ll have to find a new Healer, no matter how much it pains him to do so. If anybody found out the Black Heretic loved somebody, you’d be in grave danger and frankly, Aleksander is afraid of what he’d do if he ever lost you. His heart breaks when he remembers what he has to do tomorrow, but luckily it isn’t tomorrow yet and he can enjoy laying here with you sleeping in his arms. 

[mosshead-lover]

A to Z with Capt’n Levi

Levi Headcanons

A/n: I was suddenly short of words when I was writing this. Lol. I managed to finish. Lemme know how you like it, okay? * Baby bear face*

A: Attention - Loves getting attention from you, especially when swarmed with work, when you offer to make tea or a back massage, or even take care of his hardness. He loves them all equally.

B: Books - One of the traits Levi admires in you is that you read. He often offers to read to you and asks you to correct him if he mispronounces something. Since he grew up underground and never had access to proper education, he is kind of conscious of his spellings. The grave expression he makes as he starts reading makes him look like an innocent kid that thinks he is on the most critical mission of his lifetime.

C: Chivalry - The Captain is chivalrous, indeed. He often brings you flowers. All white, however. He believes in the purity of love and which other colors can signify it better. Moreover, it's his favorite.

D: Dirty Talk - Levi sucks at it, okay? His blunt honesty doesn’t aid the fact.

You: So, you have been accused of damaging someone’s private property, causing flood after flood. I must take you into custody(eying at the bed).

Him: Oh.

You: (trying to keep up) Will you take a look at the damage you’ve caused?

Him: Sure.

E: Enthuse(what excites him?) - It may sound cliche but, You calling him *Captain* when alone is the biggest turn on for him.

F: Foreplay - Levi likes feeling every inch of your body before he gets on with the actual business. He nibbles and kisses the most random places, making your body ask for more, slowly making his way to the sensitive parts. So, You tell me, who’s the king of foreplay?

G: Gifts- Levi doesn't wait for an occasion to get you something, nor do you. If you come across a vintage teapot or a new cleaning tool, you pick it up immediately. Likewise, if he finds something that you’d use or look good on you, he is bringing it home.

H: Hugs- Levi isn't much of a hugger but offers to when you are super low and need comfort. Levi always rests his chin on your shoulder when he hugs you. Back hugs, on the other hand, are very common to him. Especially after a long day, he wants to come home to your warmth and nothing else.

I: Ideal Date- Levi has enough adventures at work already so, Home dates are a luxury for him and you. You begin with morning tea and a little chat. You cook breakfast together and clean too before hitting the bedroom. Aftercare includes a shower, hair drying, and a little snack followed by his wholesome tea. You might go on a small horse ride or a walk in the evening.

J: Jealousy - Levi doesn’t show envy. If something is bothering him, he will be honest with you about it. But, he is sure to lose it if someone stares at you or makes you feel uncomfortable.

K: Kill - Would he kill for you? Ack. You know it already!

L: Liquor (Do you get drunk together?)-

Occasionally you do. Levi seems to hold his booze quite well. Levi does enjoy watching you get drunk and go berserk. Of course, he is there if things go out of hand. That's why you drink crazy in the first place.

M: Massages - He is on the receiving end, mostly. Since he stays awake late at night working, you often offer him shoulder massages.

N: Nos(Turnoffs) - Not addressing the elephant in the room, untidiness, and cold tea.

O: Ogle - Was he ogling you before you got together? Yes. Does he still do? YES! and you love it when those bluish-grey deep set of eyes check you out like it's the first time. The captain’s eyes speak louder than his mouth, and you're more than okay with it.

P: PDA-Levi isn’t a fan tbh. The most you do is hold hands in public except on the last Valentine's day when you were crossing the bridge. The atmosphere was so irresistible that you had to kiss him.

Q: Quarrel- Like any other couple, you have your differences too. Friction between you two is mostly because of Levi’s poor work-life balance and his OCD. Nothing that can't be taken care of before the day ends.

R: Roleplaying- Housekeeper and the owner any day. Oh, and you switch the roles too. Guess who looks darn cute wearing that white lacy headpiece?

S: Snuggles- Does he get Cozy with you often? Not really. Not that he doesn’t like it, it’s just that he can’t initiate. He never discourages you from snuggling up to him. You spoon most of the winter nights.

T: Tickle - Is he Ticklish? Surprisingly Yes. Humanity’s strongest soldier is also one big ass sensitive baby. A Tickle battle is one of those rare things that gets a peal of laughter out of him.

U: Underrated part- His butt! His sinfully sexy butt. You often kindle him by whacking that piece of art. His reaction is worth a million dollars.

V: Variety - Who brings in variety in the relationship? You, Definitely. You are always trying out new stuff. Thanks to his honest feedback, it’s easier to find something you both like, sooner.

W: Walks- When Levi doesn’t have to jump right back to work after dinner, he asks you to go on walks. They are the best. You get to catch up with each other’s day, and Levi is usually in a good mood post walks.

X: X-mas - Well, Christmas is just a decoy. What is more important is his birthday, which falls on the same day. He doesn't like celebrating or even remembering it. The last time you baked a cake and wished him, he said.

”I see. You're eager to celebrate me getting another year closer to death,”

You stopped bothering him since then. You still decorate the house, bake his favorite cookies, and dress up. His birthday coinciding with Christmas is a blessing in disguise, after all.

Y: Yes - Stuff that might seem annoying but, Levi doesn’t mind- A little goofy-ness, snapping at him, messing up his hair, and mimicking him.

Z: Zzzzz/Sleep - What type of a sleeper is he? Levi doesn't snore but moves a lot in his sleep! Often he wakes up in the middle of the night, settles on a chair for the rest of the night. Despite you assuring that throwing his limbs around in sleep does not bother you.

———————————————————————

Check out my New Year’s Levi list:

Eleven Minutes in Levi Heaven

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Click the bear to checkout my other work:

　　　　ʕ•ᴥ•ʔ

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[lesbianbuck-archived]

EVAN BUCKLEY WEEK DAY THREE - “I NEED YOU TO TRUST ME” + HURT

He had posted the pictures on Facebook. He had been expecting the phone call. He just hadn’t thought it would come in the middle of dinner with Bobby and Athena while Eddie and Christopher are there with him.

Buck excuses himself from the table and walks out into the backyard, sliding the door shut behind him. He holds his phone up to his ear. “Hi, mom.”

“Evan, what is this?”

Buck sighs. Proposing to Eddie had been the easiest decision he’s ever made, even though he had been terrified to actually do it. He had known the shit storm from his parents was going to come as soon as he put the pictures up online, but he’s decided that he’s done living his life in fear of what other people might think. It just hurts a little more when the judgement is coming from the people who raised him.

Well, that might be an overstatement. They were at least in the same house.

“I thought the pictures made it pretty clear,” Buck replies, faintly hearing the door slide open and shut behind him and feeling a hand on the small of his back soon after. Eddie. “I’m engaged.”

“To a man, Evan. I mean, is this some kind of cruel joke?”

Eddie inhales sharp and angry next to him, no doubt able to hear his mother through the phone. They share a look before Buck answers. “No, mom. Why would I post something like that as a joke?”

“Why would you post it at all? You don’t need that kind of attention, all those people looking into our lives—”

“I’m pretty sure it’s my life, not yours.” And just like he had in Maddie and Chim’s kitchen, Buck feels like a twelve-year-old again, fighting to deserve a place in the family. A place that had existed once, but not for him. He feels a little braver this time though. He attributes it to the gentle way that Eddie’s hand is keeping him steady. “I’m thirty-one. I’m more than capable of making my own decisions.”

“That’s clearly not true if these are the ones you’re making. Evan, we didn’t even know you were seeing anyone, and now you’re deciding to get married out of nowhere? You have no idea how big of a commitment—”

“I’ve been in love with him for almost five years, mom,” Buck retaliates, and he can’t help the soft way that he says it. He looks over at Eddie and he’s looking at Buck in slight disbelief. Buck assumes that Eddie had guessed that, but Buck has never confirmed it out loud. “It’s not out of nowhere.”

There’s silence on the line for a moment. “We didn’t know.”

The lights click off in the dining room as he shuffles from foot to foot. “That was on purpose. Because I knew you would react exactly like this.”

“And what’s wrong with that?” His mom sounds like she always does, like she can’t believe she could ever be in the wrong about anything. It makes Buck want to crawl into himself and hide as much as it did when he was a kid. “We’re worried about you. You don’t call, you don’t text, and you don’t ever come home for the holidays. What kind of parents do you think that makes us look like?”

Buck holds himself back from being brutally honest in his answer, instead reaching out and holding onto Eddie’s bicep for dear life. “You’re not worried about me. If you were, you would have come to the hospital when I almost died. Twice.”

Eddie whispers next to him. “Buck, you don’t have to have this conversation if you don’t want to. You can hang up.”

Buck shakes his head. He’s not going to win this conversation, but he’s at least going to say his piece. “Listen, mom. I forgave you and dad for the way you treated me growing up. I’m trying to move past the way you hurt me and do better, and it’s working. And sure, part of it is therapy, but another big part of it is Eddie. I need you to trust me and my ability to make decisions for myself, so if you want a place in my life, then you have to be okay with Eddie having a place in it too.”

“Evan—”

“It’s Buck.”

His mother sighs through the phone. “Buck. This… this man, you’re sure you’re ready to commit the rest of your life to him?”

“His name is Eddie,” Buck seethes, gripping Eddie’s arm harder. “And yes, I know, and I’m sure. I’ve never been surer about anything.”

“A marriage takes work, you know.”

“It’s not work to me. Not if it’s him.” His mother doesn’t respond to that, but he hears Eddie’s breath stutter. Buck slides his hand down and Eddie moves his off Buck’s back so they can push their fingers together. “I gotta go. I’m in the middle of dinner with Bobby and Athena, and I’d like to get back to it if you don’t mind.”

A beat of silence. “I just hope you aren’t making a mistake.”

Buck hangs up.

He stares down at his phone in his hand, the screen dark. “Love you too,” he mutters sarcastically.

Eddie turns to him and places his palm on Buck’s cheek, rubbing his thumb soothingly against his cheekbone. “Well, it could have been worse. You spoke very highly though, which I appreciate.”

Buck huffs a breath out. “Well you won’t do it yourself, so I have to do it for you.”

Buck isn’t really expecting it when Eddie leans in and kisses him softly, lingering until Buck feels the itch under his skin he didn’t even realize was there dissipating. When Eddie pulls back, his eyes are shining. “Kinda wish you would have mentioned my stellar ass, though.”

“You’re right, maybe that would have changed her mind.”

The sliding glass door opens and Athena calls out to them. “You boys still hungry? Dinner is cold now, but dessert just finished up if you want to come inside.”

Eddie laughs as Buck tugs him back into the house for dessert, and yeah, Buck never doubted for a second that this man is it for him. Bobby calls Eddie and Christopher into the kitchen to help serve dessert and Athena pulls him aside. “You okay, Buckaroo? I know your family can be frustrating.”

He looks at Athena with her casual concern, at Bobby who is staring at the both of them from over the kitchen island with worry and love on his face, at Eddie who somehow got chocolate frosting on his nose and is making goofy faces at his son. At their son, soon.

“Yeah, I’m okay,” he says, and for once he means it. “I’ve got my real family right here.”

[blu-joons]

DATING SEVENTEEN A⇴Z HEADCANON ⇴ Lee Seokmin

A ⇴ AFFECTION

Seokmin is incredibly cuddly around you, he loves to be around you and have some sort of contact with you. He can’t help himself usually but to start tickling your sides and tease you whenever he has his arms around you too.

B ⇴ BEFORE DATING

You were drawn to Seokmin from the moment you met him, he had a personality that instantly made you feel comfortable around him and a smile that made you listen to every word that he spoke. He loved getting to know you from the moment he met you too, taking an instant liking to what he saw from you.

C ⇴ CONFESSION

A friendship between you both quickly developed, and one night when you were hanging out, Seokmin couldn’t help but joke about how different things could have been for you both if you started dating. Despite being a joke, it soon became a thought that Seokmin couldn’t stop thinking about for the rest of your evening, ended up with him suggesting that the two of you perhaps give dating a try as your evening came to an end.

D ⇴ DATES

Each date was an adventure, you never did the same thing twice. He loved having someone to explore with, you’d always make sure to try new restaurants and venues for your dates, if you’d been to one restaurant once, you’d pick another the next time, or if your previous date had been at the beach, then you’d head down to the river for the next one. Eventually, you went on so many dates that you had the perfect list of all your favourite places to go to that the two of you could hold onto for the rest of your lives together.

E ⇴ EXPERIENCE

Seokmin’s life had been filled with a lot of hate, he was excited to enjoy his first experience of love. He couldn’t wait to fall in love and have someone there who would pick him up rather than constantly bring him down and support him in everything that he chose to do. There were definitely a few nerves at the start of your relationship, Seokmin wasn’t used to being treated so well, but it was an experience he also loved and wished that he had managed to receive in his earlier years from those who were around him.

F ⇴ FIGHTING

Despite his bright personality, Seokmin is incredibly sensitive when it comes to conflict and arguments, he’s had far too much negativity in his life to experience it alongside you as well. Whenever you’re angry, he’ll sit and listen, usually with teary eyes too. He hates feeling as if he’s let you down or frustrated you, so once you’ve finished ranting about whatever the subject is, he’ll apologise straight away. He’s used to just saying sorry, it’s what he spent so many years doing, but once you see how sorrowful he is, you can’t help but feel bad for going at him so hard too and reassure him that there’s no reason to worry.

G ⇴ GETTING TO KNOW HIS FAMILY

Seokmin’s family were very protective of him, but they trusted his judgement, especially when it came to you. Seeing how well you treated their son however was a huge turning point for them, all they ever wanted was for Seokmin to be happy and knowing that you made him happy was more than enough for them.

H ⇴ HOME

He enjoyed being in the dorm environment far too much to move out and find a place with you. He loved the noise and the laughter that came with living with all of his other members, and admittedly, you enjoyed being around them all too. Seokmin knew one day the time would come to move out, but he hoped it wouldn’t be for a little while yet.

I ⇴ “I LOVE YOU”

During a particularly hard time he was having, you were there for him throughout, never complaining. Seokmin never realised how much he needed you until he had your support during those days, and your love for him was the final piece of the puzzle that he needed to be sure that he loved you and let you know that he did too.

J ⇴ JEALOUSY

Although he loves to make others happy and tries to give off the impression that he’s always smiling, there is a small part of Seokmin that can get jealous from time to time too. He’s not someone who can let go of previous experiences, and so little doubts sometimes creep in that perhaps being with you is too good to be true. He’ll laugh his way through his jealousy as that’s all he knows how to do, others might not be able to pick up on it, but you can recognise a fake laugh from Seokmin in an instant and know exactly what’s going on.

K ⇴ KIDS

Controlling Seokmin was sometimes enough for you, so you dreaded to think how chaotic your life would be with children too. Seokmin often told you about his dreams of a family in the future and how he hoped he had kids who could at least try and match the amount of energy that he had. You on the other hand, hoped that your children one day would be able to finally tire Seokmin out, which was something that you’d been trying to do for many years, but somehow his energy just never seemed to run out.

L ⇴ LAUGHTER

He was the one who always create the happy mood in any situation, no matter how bad of a day you’d had or how angry you might be, he would never fail in putting the smile back on your face. Seokmin was someone who smiled his way through life and got on with everyone, a quality that you admired in him greatly. He very much controlled a situation with his jokes and his cheeky remarks, which also helped in making him a favourite with your family too. All of your friends adored him as if he’d been a part of your friendship circle for years too as a result of his sense of humour which they too instantly fell in love with.

M ⇴ MISSING

Just like with his jealousy and frustrations, Seokmin would try and laugh his way through the feeling of missing you too. He’d often brush it aside if any of the members asked how he was feeling, refusing to show any sign of emotion in front of all of them all. Despite him trying to ignore his feelings, the other members would know straight away when he was missing you as he’d try and crack joke after joke to distract his mind. He would behave exactly the same around you too, his focus was on cheering you up if you were missing him, and if he was missing you, then that would be something he’d try and keep to himself for your own sake.

N ⇴ NICKNAMES

As soon as you heard about his nickname of ‘docutie,’ you picked it up and decided to start using it for yourself too. Seokmin tried for a while to stop you, but when he knew he wasn’t going to win, he eventually caved to you.

O ⇴ OBSESSION

Seokmin was obsessed with your smile, he liked knowing that you were happy anyway, but especially so whenever you were around him.

P ⇴ PDA

He’s not afraid to be affectionate in public with you or try and make your relationship anything subtle. He knows that the fans will support him, and he wants to be real with them, so he’ll still be just as playful and teasing in public with you as he is whenever the two of you are behind closed doors with no one else watching.

Q ⇴ QUESTIONS

Seokmin loves talking, so he will ask you questions on just about anything. Anything that comes to mind he’ll want to talk about, he’s a people person, especially when he’s around his favourite person in the world, you.

R ⇴ RANDOM FACTS

When you found out the meaning behind his stage name, you knew you had to do something special for him. You ended up finding a gemstone that you knew Seokmin would love and gave it to him as something that he could always have on him. He’d take it on tour, to recordings, interviews, it slowly became a good luck charm for him to have a part of you with him even when he wasn’t able to physically be by your side.

S ⇴ SEX

Seokmin is always full of energy at the best of times, but especially so when it comes to being intimate with you. He could go all night if you asked him too, when it comes to loving and treating you well, he has all the excitement and time in the world. He’s also loud too, sometimes it will just be moans, other times he’ll be pouring out with compliments to remind you how much he loves you and how special he believes you are.

T ⇴ TEXTS

His texts are always carrying and inquisitive of you. He’ll always ask how your day is going and what your plans are, and if he thinks there’s time in between it for you to see him, then he’ll ask if you fancy a trip to the dorm too.

U ⇴ UNIVERSE

You opened up a whole new world of love to Seokmin, of course, he’d always been loved by those who were closest to him, but to have the love and affection that came with being in a relationship was something that he adored.

V ⇴ VACATION

Going on holiday was a big deal to Seokmin, but he never cared where in the world he was as long as he was with you. Holidays to him were his way of saying thank you to you for always being with him and supporting him despite how challenging his world could sometimes be and how little time he’d spend with you.

W ⇴ WHINING

He could definitely create enough noise if he wanted to, he was the mood maker for a reason, and that definitely included when he whined too.

X ⇴ XXXXX

Your kisses are one of the things that Seokmin values the most from you, he’s always searching for love and affection from you, and that usually comes in the form of a kiss, or two, from you. If he’s feeling quiet, he’ll sneak into your hold and tap his finger against your cheek to boldly ask for a kiss from you. He’s not afraid to tease you and he’s definitely not afraid to let you know exactly what he wants from you.

Y ⇴ YOU

You were a ray of light in Seokmin’s light, whilst he was everyone else’s sunshine, you were his.

Z ⇴ ZZZ

The two of you laid side by side every night, without fail. Seokmin enjoyed your embrace and found it incredibly comforting to be at your side. The comfort of your presence was all that he needed to fall asleep comfortingly at night.

---

Masterlist

[ilbound]

@bonesofchaos has requested a story : "were you looking for me? i’m honored!" // woody @ his queen

𝑷𝒓𝒐𝒎𝒑𝒕𝒆𝒅.

❝ Honored as you ought to be because , ❞ Purposefully , she allows to hang the end of her statement , punctuating the words by reaching out and catching the manmade angel by the jaw , REELING HIM CLOSE .  The press of her claws must be entirely f a m i l i a r by now , as is the way she does not elect to hinder their pressure against his flesh , letting them bite into his handsome face , welling the brimming of b l o o d to the surface.  Head cocks , angling herself nearer , making sure to mind the way mirrored crown of horns interlock overhead , further entangling the two together like beasts in an unsightly SNARE .  ❝ You seem to forget that I am a l w a y s looking for you. ❞  Comes the finish of her thought.  For as coy as it might sound , the tone she takes is entirely s i n c e r e .  It is followed by – affirmed with – a kiss bestowed to waiting lips ( & how he seems to look for more the moment she withdraws ; how she relishes in the way he seems so eager for more of her blessings ! ) .

Verona is very much indeed his living haunt ; she is his wanting divinity.  And he is those pieces of her that have gone missing , now f o u n d in the shape of a falsified relic that has come to absolve / to salvage her rotting heart.  Lo’ how the times change , where even the greatest of creatures will love for eternity the most despicable of creatures ( & love him she does , this cannot be denied ; he is everything to her , no matter their dichotomy ) .

❝ For whatever could I do without my beloved angel ?  My other half ? ❞  She pulls away from him , a smile uplifting the corners of her painted lips , silvery hues glinting with the tinge of good humor.  ❝ Being without you is intolerable ! ❞  And she means that.  She h a t e s when he decides to go galavanting off on his wild escapades and get into trouble ( at the very least , he has the sense to mention when he does , though it does not mend the ache left behind in his absence ) .  ❝ Besides , you know I would not be forced to HUNT YOU DOWN like this if you would simply learn to STAY PUT for more than a few days at a time. ❞  Spoken in jest , of course , there is no real ire in her voice , merely a lighthearted s c o l d i n g .  She is also willing to bet the other gets a k i c k out of having her chase him all over creation ( what a needy thing ) .

[gohan111111]

Vegeta (Dragon Ball Z)

NSFW ABC Headcannons

Gif:@msdbzbabe

A = Aftercare(What they're like after sex)

Ok, Vegeta might be an asshole most of the time but he understands the importance of aftercare. 

He knows he can do a number on you, especially if your human. 

He’ll make sure you’ve cleaned up and all bandaged up(we all know it’s gonna get rough with this man).

B = Body part(Their favorite body part of theirs and also their partners)

Vegeta loves his muscels.

He’s a vain man, that’s all there is to it.

He loves your chest. 

He often finds himself staring at your chest, admiring how broad/big your chest is.

C = Cum(Anything to do with cum basically)

This man has a breeding kink, so he loves to cum inside you.

But that doesn’t mean he doesn’t enjoy seeing his/yours on your chest and stomach.

D = Dirty(Pretty self-explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

He would rather die than anyone finds this out…

He enjoys wearing thigh-high socks.

They keep his legs warm, is his excuse. 

E = Experience(How experienced are they? Do they know what they're doing?)

Vegeta isn’t a virgin but he hasn’t had many partners.

He’s had just enough to know what he likes and to know what he’s doing.

F = Favorite Position(This goes without saying.)

This man loves to take you against the wall. 

He’ll pin to out of nowhere and start grinding.

G = Goofy(Are they more serious in the moment? Are they humorous? etc...)

Vegeta is a very serious guy, so of course, he’d be serious in the moment.

But he will let out a snide remark every once in a while.

H = Hair(How well-groomed are they? Does the carpet match the drapes? etc...)

Vegeta doesn’t see the point of shaving that. 

He says you’re gonna enjoy it anyway.

The most this he does is trim it so it’s not a jungle down there.

I = Intimacy(How are they during the moment? The romantic aspect.)

Sex with Vegeta is filled with dirty talk and teasing.

He can be very romantic if he wants to be but in his own Vegeta way.

If he’s not in a pissed-off mood or the sex isn’t rough at the moment, he’ll rub your sides, thighs, and arms to show he cares.

J = Jack off(Masturbation headcanon)

It mostly happens after a rough training session and you’re not available. 

When Goku and he were on Beerus’s planet training with Whis, Vegeta was very sexually frustrated.

He took care of himself every night.

K = Kink(One or more of their kinks)

Breeding- Saiyans are a very primal race, so it makes sense for him and most Saiyans to have a breeding kink/the urge to have kids.

Pregnancy- This goes along with the breeding kink of Saiyans. Saiyan love to see their mate with a child. It makes them have a sense of pride and arousal knowing they did that.

Bondage- He just loves when you’re defenseless against him.

Hair pulling- He likes pulling your hair, yes but he loves it when you entangle your fingers in his head of spikes and pull. He wants you to be rough.

King- He loves to be called King Vegeta. I feel like it spurs from the fact his rightful place as King of all Saiyans was ripped from him, as he’d phrase it.

L= Location(Favorite places to do the do)

His favorite place to have sex is the gravity chamber. 

When you bring him something to drink or a snack during or after a training session be prepared.

You’re gonna be pinned against that wall.

M = Motivation(What turns them on, gets them going)

Especially if you don’t train often, he really enjoys seeing you spare or train.

Seeing you in his armor/Orignal Saiyan armor also turns him on.

N = No(Something they won't do, turn off, etc...?)

He will not do anything with shit or piss.

He’s not going to judge if you do but he won’t have anything to do with that.

O = Oral(Preference is giving or receiving, skills, etc...)

As vain as this man is he’d rather do down on you than have you go down on him.

He enjoys being locked between your thighs. 

He once told you if he suffocated and died going down on you that it’d be an honorable death.

P = Pace(Are they fast and rough? Slow and sensual? etc..)

Vegeta is a very rough lover.

He loves the fast pace during his normally rough moments.

But that doesn’t mean he’s going to stop at 1 round.

Once in a while after or before a rough fight to protect the Earth or the Universe, he’ll pull you in and just kiss you.

That eventually turns into slow and sensual, passionate sex.

After one of those sessions, you’ll sleep in late and wake up to an empty bed, worrying about his stubborn, prideful ass.

Q = Quickie(Their opinion on quickies, how often, etc?)

Vegeta loves all sex equally.

But he loves quickies like this man will pull you into the gravity chamber, pushing you against the wall and take you right there.

R = Risk(Are they game to experiment? Do they take risks? etc...)

Vegeta is very willing to experiment. 

He has nothing against slapping you around if you like it.

But if you don’t like something he’s not gonna force it on you.

S = Stamina(How many rounds can they go for? How long do they last?)

All I’m gonna say is this man is a Sayian.

*whispers* Infinite rounds

T = Toys(Do they own toys? Do they use them? On a partner or themselves?)

Vegeta doesn’t see the point of toys.

On Planet Vegeta, Saiyans usually found their mate quickly before or after their first heat.

Yes, I am one of those people who stand with the heat headcanon.

He thinks he can do way better than any piece of plastic could ever do. 

If he catches you using one, prepare for the longest night of your life.

U = Unfair(How much they like to tease)

This man is a fucking tease.

I mean this is Vegeta we are talking about.

He is the cockiest person anyone could ever know.

If you’re in a relationship with him, I wish you luck.

V = Volume(How loud they are, what sounds they make, etc...)

All your gonna get from Vegeta during the act is grunts and groans.

He is a huge dirty talker though.

But I am a firm believer that all Sayian men, at least once or twice have turned Super Sayian during sex.

Your gonna get yelling then. 

His grunts and groans do get loader when he’s about to finish though.

W = Wild Card(A random headcanon for the character)

Vegeta let you peg/top him one time. 

He actually enjoyed the feeling but he didn’t like how you were in control.

He said he might let you do it again but if you tell anyone he’d kill you.

X = X-ray(Let's see what's going on under those clothes)

I feel like Saiyans didn’t bother with upkeep down there back on planet Vegeta. 

So, Vegeta definitely has a jungle down there.

He only really trims it when it starts to bother him.

I am also a firm believer that all Sayian men are packing and I will not step down from that notion.

I see Vegeta being around 7 or 8 in. but he’s not too girthy.

Y = Yearning(How high is their sex drive?)

Vegeta has a normal sex drive.

But he’s always done to fuck whenever you want to.

I stick with the headcanon that Saiyans go into heat. 

So, during his heat cycle, he is like a horny dog.

That’s also where is breeding kink kicks in big time.

Z = Zzz(How quickly they fall asleep afterward) 

Sex keeps Vegeta awake.

But even if it didn’t he still wouldn’t go right to sleep afterward.

He lays there until he’s sure you’re asleep before he even attempts to go to sleep.

But when he’s sure you’re asleep, wraps a single arm around your waist, pulling you close.

[yandere-romanticaa]

The votes are in and the winner is: Shuu Sakamaki! I hope you guys like this!

Yandere Alphabet.

ft. Shuu Sakamaki. 💛

A - Affection: How do they show their love and affection? How intense would it get?

Shuu's affection is simple but subtle. He always has an arm around his darling, even while he is sleeping. By doing this not only is he keeping his darling close but he is also telling the world that they are his and off limits. A win win situation.

As for intensity, Shuu isn't a very intense yandere compared to his brothers but that doesn't make him any less possessive. If his darling tries to leave he will complain and he will end up drinking their blood and marking them. Can't let little darling think they have so much freedom now, can he?

B - Blood: How messy are they willing to get when it comes to their darling?

Hmmm, not too messy tbh. As lazy as he is, once Shuu actually decides to do something he will finish it. As the eldest brother he just has some experience that the others do not and because of that he can probably just use his words to intimidate rivals.

He will throw hands if anyone gets too close though.

C - Cruelty: How would they treat their darling once abducted? Would they mock them?

He would definetly be a bit of a tease even though he does complain a lot. At first he's just annoyed, why is his darling being so noisy? It's driving him nuts! But then again, there are days when he finds darlings desparate face especially amusing and a small smirk finds its way on to Shuu's face. s/o little screams and whispers soon become Shuu's favorite thing to listen to.

D - Darling: Aside from abduction, would they do anything against their darling’s will?

No actually, believe it or not. The only thing Shuu will do is drink darlings blood. The guy has to, you know, eat? He isn't super sadistic like most of his brothers and he really won't do anything harsh unless he is jealous or really mad.

E - Exposed: How much of their heart do they bare to their darling? How vulnerable are they when it comes to their darling?

Shuu would prefer it if his darling was the more sensitive one, that just brings him greater piece of mind. Most of the time he just doesn't really talk about his feelings which can make Shuu a bit of an enigma. But after being with him for a while, s/o will pick up on the subtle signs in case Shuu is irritated or anything of the sorts. His grip always seems to be especially tight then.

F - Fight: How would they feel if their darling fought back?

Sad and disappointed. He actually does love his darling but a part of him also gets why they are doing it. It doesn't make it any bothersome though... Please, just... love him, okay?

G - Game: Is this a game to them? How much would they enjoy watching their darling try to escape?

Shuu might say it i to tease but it's not. He sees no point in meaningless flings, this the long run. And Shuu would be heartbroken if darling tried to leave - darling is like a lost puppy in Shuu's eyes, he has to protect them at all costs, he has to.

H - Hell: What would be their darling’s worst experience with them?

Whenever he gets jealous, plain and simple. He just hates it when his brothers get touchy feely with his s/o and Shuu always drags s/o away to his room, his face showing no emotion but the look in his eye says it all.

A rough and sleepless night awaits...

I - Ideals: What kind of future do they have in mind for/with their darling?

He never had any plans but he wouldn't mind staying in the Sakamaki household with his s/o. With his home and lovely spouse, Shuu would be on cloud nine.

J - Jealousy: Do they get jealous? Do they lash out or find a way to cope?

You bet he does, painfully so. He is able to hide it most of the time but if someone just flat out flirts or touches his s/o, Shuu is by their side ready to fight.

K - Kisses: How do they act around or with their darling?

Normal, for the most part. He will probably become affectionate over time though, even downright shameless if he feels like it.

L - Love letters: How would they go about courting or approaching their darling?

He doesn't really know what he is doing but he will try to put in the effort even if it doesn't look like it. He treats them normally for the most part but there is a subtle soft side reserved for his darling only.

M - Mask: Are their true colors drastically different from the way they act around everyone else?

He's pretty much the same 24/7 but if he gets mad his more sadistic side will be a bit more obvious. He'll wipe the floor with anyone if they dare challenge him.

N - Naughty: How would they punish their darling?

Heck yeah. Sharp bites, a few slaps, teasing little licks, it varies with Shuu. He mostly just bites their neck to shut them up but he isn't afraid to use more force if need be. He'd rather not though.

O - Oppression: How many rights would they take away from their darling?

All depends on darlings behaviour. If they act accordingly he won't really care, just as long they aren't too far away from him that is. But in case darling decides to do something stupid, Shuu will put his foot down.

P - Patience: How patient are they with their darling?

Depends what it is really. He will try to be reasonable but if his darling keeps making a fuss that patience will run thin.

Q - Quit: If their darling dies, leaves, or successfully escapes, would they ever be able to move on?

Never. Shuu would never let this go, the grief would just consume him and destroy him, he won't even bother stopping it. He is nothing without his live and he would have a hard time moving on if this happened.

R - Regret: Would they ever feel guilty about abducting their darling? Would they ever let their darling go?

No, not really. He did because he had to, and he did it to protect them. He just hopes darling will realize that one day.

S - Stigma: What brought about this side of them (childhood, curiosity, etc)?

Shuu can get very insecure and because of that he wants his darling to always be by his side, that way he can always protect them. He doesn't want to lose them, Shuu wouldn't be able to forgive himself if he were to lose yet enother loved one...

T - Tears: How do they feel about seeing their darling scream, cry, and/or isolate themselves?

"What a pain."

He will grumble to himself and this kind of behaviour won't be tolerated for too long. Yeah, it's cute to hear darlings pleas for help but Jesus do not shout.

U - Unique: Would they do anything different from the classic yandere?

Well yes but no. He does do the usual things such as kidnapping but it's his attitude towards it that makes him stand out. He calls everything a pain and an annoyance, why can't darling just come to him? He'll treat them nicely...

V - Vice: What weakness can their darling exploit in order to escape?

No, actually. He loves being spolied rotten with affection and he often catches himself falling for darling's sweet words but Shuu isn't dumb. As lazy as he is, he is smart, very much so, and he can tell if his little songbird is plotting something. He just knows, don't even bother finding out how.

W - Wit’s end: Would they ever hurt their darling?

Yes. Mostly by sucking darlings blood, which can get a bit rough. Shuu just loves to mark his little darling up with his deep love bites, just seeing them so out in the open, it gives him a real sense of pride. He especially loves it when Reiji complains that darling should cover up but Shuu merely replies with a smirk and just brings darling closer, much to Reiji's dismay.

X - Xoanon: How much would they revere or worship their darling? To what length would they go to win their darling over?

He will try to court his darling but he'll just give up halfway and kidnap them. It's a lot easier that way, you know? And Shuu wouldn't exactly worship his darling, but they make up a huge chunk of his world and he wouldn't really know what to do without them in the end.

Y - Yearn: How long do they pine after their darling before they snap?

For quite a while, actually. Shuu might appear as though that he couldn't care less, but he does, he really does. He tells himself that darlings feelings are irrelevant but he doesn't mean that, ever. He wants them to actually be happy, to be happy with him.

Z - Zenith: Would they ever break their darling?

Intentionally? Never. He fell for them for a reason, he doesn't want them to change. But he will leave long lasting scars on his darling which will affect darlings psyche. And there just might be a chance that darling dearest might not be able to handle those deep wounds.

[leejeongz]

nsfw a-z JUNKYU (treasure)

A = Aftercare (what they’re like after sex)

lots of cuddles and stroking your skin. he wants to make you feel calmer than you did even before the scene, calm enough to fall asleep. he can sense when you’re back to being your usual self but the softness doesn’t stop.

B = Body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)

he has two favourites on his own body and on you! on him, it’s his lips and his legs. his legs because well it’s junkyu he has fabulous legs duh. and his lips because he constantly notices you staring at them. he bites them on purpose when he sees you staring at them and knows that you want to kiss them 24/7

on you, he likes your hair and your fingers the most. he likes the way your fingers wrap around his dick and how you tease the tip with your index finger, sending him straight to heaven. and he likes to stroke your hair. he knows it sends shivers down your spine when you’re already turned on.

C = Cum (anything to do with cum, basically)

he definitely looks forward to seeing you covered in his cum. even if you let him cum inside you, he doesn’t because he wants to see it actually on your body. he lovessss watching it trickle down your fingers before you suck it off them and also clean the remaining liquid off his dick too. he also sometimes has you take selfies on his phone after he’s finished all over your face for a later date.

D = Dirty secret (pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

when you sit by him in your short dresses and skirts, he wants to do nothing more than to slowly inch his hand up your inner thigh and finger you, making you leave a damp patch on the seat, but he’s nervous that other people in the room might notice.

E = Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?)

2 different partners, one of which was a long time girlfriend, the other a one night stand. he can be romantic, he can be distant, he knows it all. he’s still a little shy with saying things out loud, but that doesn’t affect his skill and will happily discuss things via text.

F = Favorite position (this goes without saying)

ride him and he’ll be your whiney little bitch. don’t get me wrong, he’s still in charge, but the noises and the faces he pulls have you fooled for a second. he doesn’t have a preference, reverse cowgirl and cowgirl are even, both get him to cum quicker than any other position.

G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.)

he’s a silly guy, you think that’s gonna stop just because he’s got his dick out? he’s so loving, even if you are friends with benefits, he just wants to make you smile and to make you feel comfortable and safe, as well as making himself feel comfortable too. a tense atmosphere is only saved for those scenes where you are mad at each other.

H = Hair (how well groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.)

he’s always completely shaved. balls too :)

I = Intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect)

he’s a huge romantic and is solely focused on you. even if he’s desperate, he’s still gonna make it loving and share lots of intimate moments with you.

J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon)

he takes his time when it comes to masturbation. he wants to set the scene in his mind as takes a lot to actually turn him on when you aren’t there. he usually gets off at his desk to those pics he’s taken of you or to just his imagination. he gets caught by his members a lot, but he somehow convinces them he’s just working on a song.

K = Kink (one or more of their kinks)

he loves when you call him sir or master, especially when you look at him all innocently. it lets him know that you know your place and that he has you wrapped around his little finger. call him one of these in a sfw context and that’s when you know you’re in for a good time.

L = Location (favorite places to do the do)

studio or at his desk in his room. although it not ideal for his job, the best sex usually happens when you’re distracting him from something you can tell that he’s stressed with. giving him head while he’s working or while he’s gaming usually gets him really turned on and as much as he’s saying that you guys can’t do anything at the time, you definitely can and will.

M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)

pictures of you! it’s not secret that he has a folder of pictures of you that he uses to get off to. your selfie’s alone really turn him on, especially the ones where you have your fingers in your mouth. but of course there’s plenty of nudes and little teasers in there too. and those pics of your face covered in him cum of course.

lingerie!! boy loves seeing you in the sexiest pieces and sets, so much so that he doesn’t mind splashing the cash and buying you some as a “just because” gift. he’s very gentle (most of the time) and does not rip them because they’re stunning on you! but sometimes he gets carried away and tugs on them a little too much while pulling you towards him.

N = No (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)

no food play. it’s too messy and too much of a hassle after a scene when he’s super tired.

O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)

my mind always goes to junkyu getting head under his desk while he’s producing a song, tell me that wouldn't be hot. i can imagine him to be quite whiney but he just lets you do your thing without telling you how to suck it. running the underneath of your tongue over the tip is for sure something that he CRAVES. if he asks he gets, but he just wants you to do it anyway without even being asked.

his oral skills aren’t anything special, they’re good enough, but he gets you so worked up beforehand that the slightest touch will make you cum. he loves to press little kisses against your inner thighs before actually getting to eating you out.

P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.)

most times, he wants it slow. he wants to drag out every last moment and make the most of everything and so he keeps the pace slow. he doesn’t wanna tire you or himself out, knowing that you’ll both crave more after the first round. but sometimes he’s a little desperate, there’s nothing slow about it when he’s like this.

Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)

he’s not a fan at first, but you soon show him the wonders of quickies in a vacant room where you can get caught, and he’s craving them all the damn time. he becomes a quickie lover and sometimes all he needs is to be satisfied for a while.

honestly though, he wouldn’t choose them over somewhere comfortable like your bedroom and wonders why you’d rather do stuff quickly when you could just wait a few more hours and get ruined properly. if only he understood that sometimes, you just cannot wait, and that it’s all his fault.

R = Risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.)

he gets excited at just the mere thought of experiments and venturing into a new world with you. the potential danger of literally anything out of the ordinary happening is something that really gets him going. he’s down to try anything once if you are, but he gets a little shy about discussing them.

S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?)

usually 2 rounds with a small break in the middle for water and such. he can last around 15 minutes per round inside of you and he’s pretty proud of himself for that lmao, especially since he’s receiving head for like 20 mins lol

T = Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?)

he loves knowing that you use toys when he’s not around, it gets him horny to think about you holding a vibrator against your clit while you think about him. but i don’t think such toys would be welcome in the bedroom while he was there.

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)

angry/jealous sex, there is no teasing at all. he gets what he wants and that’s it, there’s nothing in it for you (or so he thinks). if you don’t cum that’s your problem because he’s given you ample opportunity.

normal, “everyday” sex, is full of teasing, especially when it comes to giving you oral/foreplay. there’s lots of kissing, lots of orgasm denial and LOTS of touches and kisses. pressing light kisses onto your clothed clit was his signature move, just one had you wanting to cum sometimes.

V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)

he’s whiney as FUCK okay. he’s very loud,you can definitely hear him, maybe even some other people too hehe. sometimes he sends you voice notes of him moaning when he knows you’re horny and alone. he’s not really into dirty talk because he doesn’t want to say anything that will ruin the mood.

W = Wild card (a random headcanon for the character)

he runs his hand through his hair A LOT while you two are being intimate, especially when your lips are wrapped around his length. usually his hair gets sweaty and also, he wants to see you, so you catch him brushing it out of his face a lot.

he’s definitely a tits man. he loves to hold them, sleep on them, suck on them, whatever you/he wants. he holds them while he fucks you because he knows it hurts, it’s a win win. they aren’t always sexual to him either, they’re just another part of you that he can admire (but he’s too shy to compliment you on them and also thinks it would be kinda weird if he did lol)

he. kisses. you. constantly. the kisses are often broken by the thrusts but he doesn’t care and he actually thinks it makes the whole thing more romantic.

X = X-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes)

just over average length with a litter under average thickness. i think he’s a show-er too.

Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?)

honestly, not that high. he goes through spells of not wanting any to wanting it twice a day, but on the whole, it's not extraordinarily high nor low

Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

he’s pretty tired, but he doesn’t want to fall asleep until you have or you’ve said it’s okay for him to sleep. he’s a little groggy so you usually make him go to sleep whenever, but it’s also really cute 🥺