#grinch has stolen it away

[natasha-in-space]

I'd like to think that the first time Saeran gets to put up a Christmas tree, he'd go way overboard with decorations. There are so many neat colorful stuff to put on, he just doesn't know when to quit! Saeyoung and Natasha won't stand between his fun. In the end, their Christmas tree will probably end up a mess. But, it's a very colorful mess made with lots of laughs and smiles!

Ref. by @K_Lemyo on Twitter!

[greypetrel]

Fanfic Writer Questions

Tagged by @melisusthewee, and at least another person. I'm sorry if I ignored the tag, I was away and it's a busy period, let me know ;_;

Tagging forward: @ndostairlyrium @shivunin @inquisimer and YOU who are reading and would like to do it!

1. How many works do you have on AO3? 12, right now.

2. What's your total AO3 word count? 497,183 ... I'm chatty.

3. What fandoms do you write for? Dragon Age, and a crossover with LOTR/The Silmarillion.

4. What are your top 5 fics by kudos?

Home Was Never on the Ground (long fic, concluded, it's anthological and mainly me filling blanks in DAI as inspiration stroke)

She of Many Names (ongoing, a LOTR/Dragon Age crossover. A follower on Instagram asked me if Aisling was Sauron, the idea made me laugh so much that my mind took fire.)

Saturday Prompts (a collection of prompts I posted here. I never uploaded every one of them, oops)

Death and All of Its Friends (ongoing, a DA2 collection)

The Night Before First Day (Two chapters, concluded. One it's in rhyme and illustrated. Aisling taught her daughter that the Dreadwolf is Santa out of spite. Solas tries to disapprove.)

5. Do you respond to comments? Yes, always!

6. What is the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending? I do love angst, but I don't like angsty endings all that much ahahahahah. I think the one that gets closer, in a bitter-sweet way, is One for the Road. Call me a sucker for rare-pairs, this was also prompted here and my brain took fire (LavellanxFenris)

7. What's the fic you wrote with the happiest ending? The Night Before First Day. Listen I'm not a Christmas person, I turn into a seasonal depressed Grinch at Christmas, living in a catholic country doesn't help, and that is my way of giving myself some joy.

8. Do you get hate on fics? Not that I know of.

9. Do you write smut? If so, what kind? Not any that I publish.

10. Do you write crossovers? What's the craziest one you've written? Yes I do. She of Many Names is a Dragon Age and LOTR crossover. I love it dearly, I'm slow to update it because I have the greatest love for Tolkien (with all his flaws, but my brain rewired when I saw the first movie, and the book has been my entire personality for two years. I wouldn't be the same person without it) and I do care of rendering it as I want.

11. Have you ever had a fic stolen? ... Not that I know of? I hope not, ahahahah :"D

12. Have you ever had a fic translated? If you consider that English is not my first language, all my fics are translated? xD Other than that, no.

13. Have you ever co-written a fic before? No, but I'd love to.

14. What's your all time favorite ship? EowynxFaramir, hands down. Out of pure lenght. Maybe LeiaxHan Solo (my parents are both nerds, I think my mom made me watch Star Wars the first time... I don't remember, the vhs were always around in the house. I was very, very little.)(we don't talk about the sequel trilogy.)

15. What's a WIP you want to finish but doubt you ever will? I tried to write a third chapter for the aforementioned One for the Road... But it ends up in a love triangle and I don't like love triangles that aren't a poly relationship. So, it's sitting in my folder and I'll never finish it. I was considering ditching the second chapter and rewrite it as a "Aisling as a companion in DA2" fic... But MEH.

16. What are your writing strengths? I think dialogue. I am trained as a comic artist, which means that the writing parts that get polished are dialogue. I have much more experience with that. ... I am also terrible at judging my own work in a positive way, tho, so you tell me.

17. What are your writing weaknesses? English not being my first language and leading to mis-spellings. Other than that... I started writing fanfiction after YEARS of not writing anything in prose that wasn't screenplays for comics (which follows different rules). Since I stopped because of being hurt by it, I went on to it by not planning stuff.

I'm rusty with prose, and my retelling -the first thing I tackled- clearly had little planning ahead.

18. Thoughts on writing dialogue in another language in fic? It's a no, for me, unless you specifically wants your audience not to understand what's being said and create a sense of isolation and of not knowing what's going on. A sentence here and there with a translation is fine. But if it's something long... You want the reader to understand well. Italicized text it is.

19. First fandom you wrote for? I wouldn't call it a fandom, but: Greek Mythology. I drew a parody comic of the Iliad in my first high school year, alongside friends. It had been so fun. I also wrote, still in high school, something heavily inspired by Eragon, which only my friends had the pleasure of reading. (I'm only saying it involved my now most hated trope: THE SECRET TWIN.)

20. Favorite fic you've written? The next one.

I'm very invested in Ashes and Sparks, aka the Dreadwolf AU. I'm putting ideas in it and going fully canon divergent and writing it as I would like Inquisition to have gone. No Corypheus, more crazy tevinters, and the focus ON FUCKING TIME TRAVEL.

In a modern setting because yes.

It's also tackling something I absolutely hate in fiction when it's done wrongly, which is time travel, and I'm sweating and hoping I'll do it with logic. It's something niche and not so focused on a single ship, so probably it'll interest only me, but I'm happily writing and trying to contain myself from posting chapters of more than 10k.

Blank Form Under the Cut

1. How many works do you have on AO3?

2. What's your total AO3 word count?

3. What fandoms do you write for?

4. What are your top 5 fics by kudos?

5. Do you respond to comments?

6. What is the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending?

7. What's the fic you wrote with the happiest ending?

8. Do you get hate on fics?

9. Do you write smut? If so, what kind?

10. Do you write crossovers? What's the craziest one you've written?

11. Have you ever had a fic stolen?

12. Have you ever had a fic translated?

13. Have you ever co-written a fic before?

14. What's your all time favorite ship?

15. What's a WIP you want to finish but doubt you ever will?

16. What are your writing strengths?

17. What are your writing weaknesses?

18. Thoughts on writing dialogue in another language in fic?

19. First fandom you wrote for?

20. Favorite fic you've written?

[shadowscommand]

okay. roze has the bigger purse but syd Does have a purse she specifically has to throw shit in. nikto and kreuger at the same store is devastating. no survivors. everything is missing. price likes to send otter to the store because its the cheapest option. nikolai feels the same about yegor. grinch, soap, ghost, and mara dont just steal candy bars they just sort of take anything small and easy to conceal. this is 70% of mara's makeup. 50% of iskras makeup, too. velikan is trying to shove entire things of meat down his pants and sometimes he gets away with it. sometimes not. mace is just too big of a target, and he knows it, and it makes him anxious which makes him too obvious. nikolai just never knows how to stop fidgeting with his clothes when hes got shit in his pockets. wyatt is WAY too casual and will say Out Loud that hes stealing shit. alice, sparks, and alex have never stolen. price, bale, and mino have stolen in the past/so rarely that its not a habit. golem and d-day just get hungry its not really stealing they just open chips or a drink and walk the store with it. 2nd to last row will not Lecture you but when they figure out someone is stealing they all go "if you get caught im leaving you by yourself." the last row WILL lecture you and WILL make you pay. if they notice. rodion and talon are the easiest to sneak by. azur, gaz, and thorne are almost impossible to steal around. morte, raines, and ronin are a little easier to get by

[gothmogzilla]

Bro looks like the Mayor of Whoville after the Grinch has returned Christmas, stolen away Martha May Whovier, and shaved the Mayor's head.

hooogh. aooogh

[trixcuomo]

A Christmas Caper

Coco Cuomo: Okay, Sharpen. Looks like she's not here. Away at some fancy rich people holiday vacay, no doubt. Her family is loaded! *shines her flashlight around the dark office*

Sharpen: Are you sure Trixany said to steal this thing back from Haris Pilton, because she stole it first and *deep breath* technically, there's no backsies in corporate commercial law, so like 'it's totally still my idea, so go get it?'

Coco: Ya know, for a himbo, you've got a memory like a steel trap. That is like word-for-word how my sista put it.

Sharpen: Thanks?

Coco: As a successful Goblin businesswoman, I gotta tell ya--You should go into cross-faction international law. With those do-gooder defenders over in Pandaria, they'd never see you comin'.

Sharpen: *mutters* ...Stupid Baine Bloodhoof. Garrosh was a bum!

Coco: I just wish the comm connection wasn't so bad. It cut out before Trix could tell us the name of the damn thing. When will my step-sista learn not to monologue like a villain and just get to the point?

Sharpen: *looks around the dark room with glowing Night Elf eyes* So, what does the file look like again?

Coco: Eh, it ain't gonna be big. It's a screenplay written by Trixany, ya know. So uh... heavy on the B.S., a little Kaja-Cola sponsored love story, a coupla parody musical numbers, then explosions at the end.

Sharpen: Is this it? 'Gone With the Dragonflights?' Or maybe, 'Dragons Prefer Brunettes?' Hrm, this one has Wrathion on the cover.

Coco: No, but yer gettin' warmer. This is our family's last chance to make money off this expansion, so yes--it do be dragon-themed. Try more rip-off-sounding. Rememba, the title mighta been changed by Haris and her mooks!

Sharpen: How about this? 'The Sabellian Movie.' It's... pink. Everything is this crazy pink color and it's supposed to be the true story of the Pink Dragonflight. Why is Wrathion cast as Ken? And Deathwing is Crazy Barbie apparently.

Coco: Wow. That IS a ripoff. But no, too thinky. We're looking for something more obvious--

Sharpen: 'Game of Oathstones.'

Coco: Eyup. *reads a few lines* That's Trix's writing style alright.

Sharpen: But how does this fantasy world get taken over by dragons when everybody's already dragons? *peers searchingly*

Coco: We've found it! And a good thing, too! How many stolen screenplays does Haris have in her office? How many dreams has she crushed, just sitting on promises and promises that she would produce these, make these artists into real talents! It's so cruel. No one should have that kinda power! Who IS she?? The Grinch? Ebenezer Scrooge in designer pumps?

Sharpen: Well, thankfully, we broke in during the holidays while Haris and her staff are gone. We should be able to easily slip back out again. It's the perfect crime. Nothing short of a miracle of screenwriting could ever stop us.

Narrator: Somehow, Haris returned.

Haris: Stealing from me? *switches on the office lights* I don't think so. SECURITY!!

Coco: *facepalms* You just had to break the fourth wall, didn't ya Sharpen?

Haris: Oh, no. Don't blame the sweet himbo this time. You wanted to know how it's done?

Sharpen: ...

Coco: ... ... What, so ya used yer hearthstone to get back here, or somethin'?

Haris: *doom voice* I AM the fourth wall.

Coco & Sharpen: Waaaaauuuughhhh!!!

[fitzs-trained-monkey]

Herald of Death

(Not my gif)

Title: Herald of Death

Word Count: 11,000

Warnings: Canon typical violence and mentions of blood.

Requested By @musically-ambiguous: Spectral Perception Part Two (Sorry it took forever) || Kol x Banshee!reader || Read part one! || Here lies my Masterlist

"The birthday girl has entered the building!" You announced, grinning as you strolled into your father’s office. Your dad turned to face you with a slight smile and you opened the door wide, leaning against the door frame.

"Hey, honey," He said. "How was your day?"

"Eh, nothin' special." You shrugged, making sure to keep the bouquet of flowers behind your back. This wasn't the first time Kol had stolen something for you and the last time your dad found out, he nearly had a heart attack. What the man didn't know couldn't hurt him. "I stubbed my toe on a desk, though."

Your dad laughed. "And how fun was that?"

"Oh, it was just spectacular - loved it," You said, letting sarcasm coat your voice. 

"I bet," He hummed. You shot him a thumbs up and turned to go up to your room. "Wait, Y/N!" He called you. "One more thing."

You turned back around, tapping the doorway lightly. "Yeah?" 

Your father's expression had lost its humor and his eyes flicked around, searching the area behind you. He took a measured breath. "That, uh, that parasite you call a friend… he's not with you, is he?"

'That parasite' was what your father had not-so-affectionately dubbed Kol after he finally figured out that there was nothing he could do to get rid of the ghost. 

You blinked, frowning, and glanced behind you where Kol stood, plainly in view.

"I suppose that means my time is up." The boy shrugged. 

You rolled your eyes and opened your mouth to explain yet again that Kol was in no way hurting you, but you felt the boy's arms sneak around your waist before you could say anything. He curled himself around you in a way specifically designed to aggravate your father - with one hand stroking your side beneath your shirt while he nuzzled into your neck. The instant Kol touched you, your father scowled - more than used to seeing the ghost boy materialize out of thin air.

"Parasite present and accounted for," Kol declared before flashing your dad the cheekiest grin possible.

"Quit trying to eat my daughter, slime," Your father growled, glaring at the ghost behind you. You rolled your eyes.

Kol just chuckled. "Too late. Already had her for breakfast!"

You scoffed and attempted to stomp on his foot but he danced away much too quickly, leaving you to face the judgemental frown on your father all by your lonesome.

"Y/N -" His tone was stern. "- You said you weren't going to let him take advantage of you anymore."

You crossed your arms, metaphorically standing your ground. "For the last time dad, Kol doesn't hurt me - he refuses to. The only reason he took my blood this morning was because I got a paper cut, okay?" You held up the flowers for him to see. "He even went and got me these while I was in class to prove he didn't waste anything. He's not the monster you make him out to be, dad."

"Oh no, I am. Without a doubt. Absolutely, one hundred percent the monster he makes me out to be! " Kol called from the couch in the living room. He had his feet up over the back so he was lying upside down. "My soul is as black as the abyss - not a shred of decency left. No sir! I make that Grinch song seem tame!"

You had to resist the smile tugging at your lips. "He is, however, an idiot," You added.

"I resent that!" He shouted back.

"Can it, Koala!" You tossed over your shoulder. You glanced back at your father, shrugging.

He sighed. "You know how I feel about him…" He started.

"I know."

Your dad watched your expression for a moment. "You're sure he makes you happy?"

You simply smiled "Yeah, dad. He does."

Your father nodded and turned back to his work. That was as close to approval as you were going to get, so you tossed your bag into your room, and made yourself some dinner. As you did, your thoughts drifted to the ghost still hanging out in your living room. You had met Kol exactly a year ago on this very day and had discovered a few months after that your touch rendered him solid and visible for as long as he maintained direct contact with your person. For the sake of experimentation, you had offered Kol a taste of your blood, hoping that it could grant him tangibility without requiring him to be near you all the time, and aside from turning out to be a little on the addictive side, your blood did exactly that. There was just one problem - the effect was temporary, lasting up to a day at most. 

After nearly losing control the first time, Kol refused to feed on you again, however, he couldn't seem to stop himself from stealing a few drops whenever you cut yourself. Which was often. You pretended to get cut by accident, but really it was just your way of making sure Kol didn't starve himself. See, being all dead is easy - you don't feel anything. It was sort of like in The Princess Bride. When you weren't touching him, Kol was all-dead, but with your touch or your blood, he was only mostly-dead and mostly-dead is still somewhat alive - not entirely, you supposed, but it was enough for you to see how much his hunger affected him. You couldn't pretend to understand how this whole magic thing worked so you didn't exactly try. Kol had attempted to explain it to you a few times but you had a hard enough time with your chemistry homework. You figured you were simply better off remaining in blissful ignorance. 

The strangest thing about your phantom companion was that, despite being dead, he could still get hurt as you had discovered that one time when your father had actually shot Kol. The bullets had penetrated and remained in his body until he let go of your hand. As soon as he had, the blood that had begun to seep from the wound disappeared and Kol was good as new, as though whatever form your magic had given to his spirit reset the instant he was parted from you.

Thinking of the memory made you laugh because Kol's only response to being shot with a twelve-gauge was simply "Ouch." Now, that could have been because he was a vampire or it could have been because he was a dead ghost of a vampire -  you had no idea. Either way, it was funny.

"What are you giggling about in here?" Kol's silky voice wondered, pulling you from your reverie. You startled, whipping around to see him standing behind you, leaning against the kitchen doorway. You liked how soft he looked when he knew no one could see him; it made you smile.

"Remember that time when my dad shot you?"

Your ghost boy threw his head back, laughing. He was still as cute as the day you'd met him - maybe even cuter since he'd admitted to being in love with you.

You smiled. "Anywho, I'm gonna watch Independence Day, you in?" 

Kol's expression twisted into one of confusion. "I thought that was some stupid American holiday…"

You shrugged, picking up your soup before moving to the living room with it. "I mean, it is, but it's also a movie and I can forgive you for not having seen it 'cuz you were kinda dead for a while or what not, but if you don't watch it with me then I don't think we can be friends anymore."

Kol grinned and followed you. "Pretty sure we're more than friends, darling." He was right. You didn't like to think of Kol as your boyfriend though; he felt like more than that, so the two of you had yet to put a label on it. He settled in beside you, quick to wrap an arm around your shoulders and tangle his fingers in your hair. Yeah, that boy was a cuddler. "So what's this movie about then?"

"Aliens!" You replied, excitedly.

"What?"

You rolled your eyes playfully. "Shut up and watch the movie."

Kol just grinned. "Ah! The birthday girl's being bossy!" He leaned over and kissed your cheek, poking you in the ribs as he did so. You took his hand instead of swatting it away, intertwining your fingers.

Watching movies with Kol was always fun because he never ran out of commentary - he always had something snarky to say about the characters or the plot or the movie as a whole. Movies were also excellent cuddling opportunities. As soon as you finished your soup and set it aside, Kol shifted; he pulled your legs out next to his and wrapped his arms around you so he could pull you closer and rest his head on your chest. He'd never directly ask, but you knew his actions were a plea for you to play with his hair. Naturally, you indulged him. After all, original vampires need cuddles too.

Kol's touches were familiar to you now. You hadn't been big on physical affection before you'd befriended him but the poor man was absolutely touch starved so you'd quickly gotten used to it. This specific sort of cuddling was a newer thing between the two of you and you hadn't been entirely comfortable with it at first. Then Kol had explained to you that he liked listening to your heartbeat; he said it calmed him - reassured him that you safe and that your heart would keep beating, that yours wouldn't stop like he had felt his own heart stop. 

Because Kol had nightmares sometimes. He couldn't sleep as a ghost but he could when he held you. The boy hadn't told you much about why he'd died - just that he had been trying to do what he thought was the right thing.

He hadn't told you much about why he'd died, but he told you quite a bit about how. Kol told you he'd been stabbed in the heart with a cursed stake made of ancient white oak. One night, after a particularly vivid nightmare, he'd clutched you closer to him desperately as he told you about how he had begun to burn while he was still breathing. He told you how it had felt to feel his heart slow to an agonizing stop - how he'd felt so cold even while white-hot flames engulfed his body. He told you that he'd died exactly as he'd lived. 

Completely alone.

You had promised that night that you would never leave him and you continued to reaffirm that promise as often as you could because although he'd never admit it, you could see just how terrified he was of once again being left entirely alone.

It wasn't long before the movie ended, yet you decided not to move. You were quite comfortable where you were and had it not been for the content purr-like noise of encouragement he made every time your fingers stilled, you would have thought Kol dead to the world. You gently carded your fingers through his hair over and over again, lightly scratching the back of his neck occasionally and grinning when it made him shiver. Kol reached up and tugged on your hand. You let him take it while continuing to comb your fingers through his silky soft hair with your other hand. He nudged his nose against your palm a few times, clearly more tired than he wanted to admit as his oddly cool lips skimmed along your wrist, achingly soft and adoring, before leaving a feather-light kiss on the back of your hand. You closed your eyes and smiled as the familiar chill of Kol's kisses swept through you. He hummed and dragged his lips over your skin again, this time pressing a more dedicated kiss against your pulse. 

"Happy birthday, darling," He whispered.

"Thanks." 

You didn't move just yet. You were content to just close your eyes and let Kol continue his perfect butterfly kisses along your wrist. He was a lot more free with affection when he was tired. It was clear to you that he was still getting used to the idea of being loved by someone; he had this stubborn idea in his head that people could only want him for his looks or his knowledge of magic - that he wasn't desirable as a person. You reckoned Kol must have been a sweet boy before he was turned into a vampire and only now was he learning how to be himself again. For in death he was free of his mother's curse…

At least some aspects of it.

Kol's grip on your hand tightened ever so slightly, as you felt his fangs scrape over your pulse. Being a ghost meant he was stuck constantly in the state he was in just before he died and, according to him, he'd been feeling rather peckish - a sensation which only worsened the longer he remained in physical contact with you. Even though you wouldn't have truly minded, you knew it would tear him up inside if your ghost boy ever hurt you simply because he was tired.

"You know, you're really pretty cute when you're sleepy," You said, nudging him lightly with your foot. Your voice was enough to knock him out of his stupor and you knew the gentle squeeze he gave you was his way of showing his gratitude. 

"Oh, please," He huffed, kissing the back of your hand once more. He gave you that adorable half-smile that you loved so much, opening his eyes to look up at you. "I'm cute all the time."

You chuckled and shook your head, leaning down to give him a peck on the cheek. "But you're even cuter when you're sleepy."

"I suppose you could be right," He hummed, acting as though the admission pained him. "Though I wouldn't know seeing as I'm not sleepy."

"Except you are though," You pressed, gently running your fingers through his hair again to prove your point. He had to strain to avoid relaxing into your touch.

"Am not."

You smirked, rolling your eyes. Dealing with a sleepy Kol was also like dealing with a petulant child. "Yes you are."

"No, I'm not."

"Are so."

"Am not."

"Ya' are so."

"Am not."

"Ya are so, and you know it," You declared, poking his cheek.

"I am not, slander and blasphemy!" He was struggling to contain himself from laughing while simultaneously fighting his heavy eyelids. It would have been impressive if it wasn't so petty.

"Oh, I see." You nodded. "So if I were to - I don't know… hum a calm little tune right now for no reason at all, you're saying there's no way you would fall asleep?"

He cracked a smile. "Not a chance in hell."

"How much are you willing to bet on that?" You challenged, raising a brow.

"Absolutely nothing because I am, in fact, full of it," He let himself laugh and closed his eyes again.

"I love you," You muttered.

"I love me too," Kol said, grinning. You rolled your eyes, falling silent for a moment. 

You knew you loved Kol… that much was certain and you couldn't deny it even if you wanted to. But you didn't put a label on whatever it was the two of you had for a reason. The two of you had no foreseeable future together - he was a ghost for crying out loud! Kol was dead and it wasn't within your power to bring him back… not permanently anyway. You could never be with him for real. You couldn't keep him in any way that truly mattered.

"For the record…I'm sorry," You whispered. Kol sat up, fully awake now as he shifted onto his side so he could stare at your face with confusion and disbelief. 

"Whatever for?" He asked softly. 

"I'm sorry I can't bring you back for real." You felt a tear slip down your cheek. "I'm sorry I can only give you a fleeting taste of life - nothing but a bittersweet reminder that will serve as nothing more than salt in an agitated wound when I inevitably die one day. It's selfish of me to tease you like this." You glanced away in shame and regret.

"What? No! No, darling," He said, hugging you closer to him. "You're not selfish at all. You've given me something in death that I never found in life - something for which I searched for one thousand years and never so much as caught sight of."

You scoffed. He made you sound like something grand - like a miracle. "And what was that?"

Kol positioned himself to hover over you, cupping your cheek to guide you to look at him. "Happiness, Y/N," He said. "You gave me happiness." Kol smiled and leaned down, meeting your lips in a kiss so tender and full of adoration you thought you might just drown in it - in him. His nose nudged against yours gently and you could feel him relax a little, allowing a little of his weight to rest on you. He was loving and sweet and gentle, a few more minutes and you knew you would simply melt. 

But dreams rarely ever last. 

"Hey! No making out with dead people on my couch, Y/N." Your father's voice made the attempt to sound angry but only succeeded in sounding unbelievably tired. You jumped at the sudden interruption of your bliss and Kol groaned.

"Thanks for ruining that, mate," He grumbled, moving off of you before offering his hand to help you up.

"Anytime." Your dad smirked. "It's my genuine pleasure." Your cheeks were red as tomatoes and a grave of pillows sounded rather lovely at the moment.

"I'm sure," Kol hummed with a thin smile. He turned to you. "Darling, what do you say we go to bed now, hmm?"

You simply nodded and made a break for your room. There was no way you would be able to look your father in the eye for at least a week - not after that. No, sir.  You felt Kol's hand on your back as you left the room and you were ninety percent sure he turned to stick his tongue out at your father, but you pretended not to notice.

When you got up to your room, you shut the door and collapsed on your bed. "You are just bound and determined to make my dad loathe your existence, aren't you?" You sighed as you pulled Kol to lay beside you. 

"Yeah, pretty much," He joked, pressing a lingering kiss to your forehead. You liked the way he slept, with his whole body curled around you as if to touch as much of you as possible. 

"You're impossible," You snickered, snuggling up close to him. "G'night, Kol." You could hear the smile in his voice as he responded.

"Goodnight, Y/N. Sleep well. I'll most likely kill you in the morning."

"I never should have shown you The Princess Bride," You groaned before settling off to sleep - or at least pretending to. In truth you were waiting for him to say it; the same words he always said as soon as he thought you were asleep.

“I will love you until the waves of the sea no longer break upon the shore, until the stars no longer shine, or until the last remnants of my consciousness cease to exist. Whichever comes last."

A lovely promise to fall asleep to.

The following morning, you woke up tired.

Really, really, tired.

You were, after all, a college student so waking up dead tired wasn’t exactly a new experience and you wouldn’t have thought much of it if not for the five billion worried glances Kol sent your way while you, in your half-dead state, tried to eat breakfast. The concern in his eyes lasted through your walk to school until you could no longer stand it.

“Kol, for the love of Oreos, why are you looking at me like I have stage four lung cancer?” You demanded after catching him watching you for the umpteenth time. The boy had the gall to act as if he had no clue what you were talking about.

“I, um, I wasn’t?” He tried. You sent him a flat look.

“Lie to my face one more time and see what happens.”

He blinked, clearly surprised but you were in no mood to be messed with at the moment. “You had a nightmare last night, darling…” He hesitated, looking you over once again. “Don’t you remember?”

You rubbed your eyes, yawning. “Nope.”

“It seemed a little…intense,” He offered, seeming a little shaken from what you could tell. You wondered what about your nightmare could have had him worried so much but you couldn’t remember having any sort of dream the night before.

“Yeah, I’ve got nothing.” You chuckled. “I don’t know if I should be sorry for that or not.”

“Really?” He pressed, tugging on your hand to pull you to a stop. “You don’t remember anything?”

You shook your head. “Not a thing, no.” Why was he making such a big deal about this? 

Something in his expression tightened but he said nothing. He just nodded and walked you the rest of the way to school. You left him with a kiss at the gates and switched your brain into education mode, heading towards your first class of the day. 

What had begun as sleep deprivation quickly turned into a headache and fifteen minutes into your lecture, that headache morphed into a powerful migraine. You excused yourself from class and ducked out into the hall, trying to regain your balance and overall sense of self. You felt strangely thin - like food service film stretched to the breaking point. You needed some water. Yeah, that would help.

Stumbling towards the water fountains that you wouldn’t so much as glance at on any other occasion, you somehow managed to draw your water bottle from your backpack and shove it under the fountain's nozzle. You swayed, blinking away the black spots that swarmed your vision but they refused to clear. You heard voices - odd droning voices murmuring nonsensical words. What was happening? You groaned, clutching your skull in a vain attempt to dull the pain as the black spots in your vision turned white. Everything went white. There was a high-pitch ringing in your ears, blocking out all else. Everything was white.

Then there was sound, blaring in your ears.

“Where is the abomination?” - The harsh tone was unfamiliar to you, it was cold and biting and cruel but you had no idea to who it could belong.

“I’d die before I told you.” - That voice, that was your father!

“Very well.”

A gunshot.

Someone chanting.

You heard your father screaming.

“I’m sorry, Y/N.” - That was Kol! - “Close your eyes, darling; I don’t want you to see this.”

People screaming.

Bones breaking.

“I'm actually doing you a favor.” - That was a different voice. It wasn't cruel like the other one, though it was cold and apathetic. You still had no idea who it could belong to.

The sounds cut off and images flashed through your mind.

First, your hands - covered in crimson. 

Next, a knife - silver and silent. 

Third, your father - pale and prone. Laying on the ground with a gash in his throat! He was laying on the ground dead! Your father was dead!

You saw other things but you could hardly process them. 

Kol, his eyes were closed and his ears were bleeding.

A streetlamp glowing gold in the misty night. 

A field of grass and blood.

All the while someone was screaming. 

You felt a pair of hands grip your shoulders, shaking you and you realized then that the scream you’d heard had been your own. Your vision cleared and you found yourself staring into the very worried eyes of one Kol Mikaelson. He called your name and you blinked as the world came into focus. The ghost boy sighed in relief, pulling you into a hug that you didn’t want. You shoved him away and staggered to your feet as you tried to make any sense of what had just happened to you.

“Kol,” You hissed. Your throat was dry and your teeth clenched. “What was that? What just happened to me?” 

The phantom’s expression was grim but calm in a determined sort of way. He eyed you wearily, his feet shifting in a way that betrayed a very certain form of caution. He held up his hands in a gesture that looked like something between an attempt at calming a spooked horse and shielding his face from a grenade about to go off.

“What did you see?” He asked, voice low but firm.

You shook your head. “I don’t wanna think about it. I won’t think about it. Just tell me what’s going on!”

“I have to know what you saw, Y/N. What did you see?” His hands clasped your shoulders, forcing you to look at him. You blinked, he seemed somehow… sharper than before. Clearer.

“Why does it matter?” You asked, tugging nervously at your shirt. “Why can’t you just tell me?”

Kol sighed. “Last night you were screaming,” He said; his voice was dry. “You were screaming in your sleep, and I couldn’t wake you up. You kept saying over and over: ‘Please don’t make me watch him die.’ Who were you talking about, love?”

“I don’t know! I-” You froze. The images from moments ago burned in your memory. “Where’s my dad?”

Moments later you were racing down the sidewalk to your house, pushing past people you couldn’t recall seeing around town before. The streets were unusually crowded for your slow and sleepy college campus. 

“Why are there so many people?” You huffed in frustration, pushing past a group of girls who couldn’t have been older than fifteen. Kol’s visage appeared in front of you - he didn’t do that often as there was no real need and you would have shoved him aside too if not for his piercing stare. 

“Darling, you need to slow down.” His voice was something close to a warning.

“No, Kol. That‘s the last thing I need to do,” You exclaimed. “I need to get to my dad. Now!”

You moved past him, ignoring his sigh of frustration. He appeared in front of you again and you glared at him before dodging aside again, but he caught hold of your arm, stopping you. 

“Darling, listen to me,” He stressed, meeting your eyes with an intensity you’d never seen. There was no trace of the playful boy you’d known for so long. “There’s no one here.”

You rolled your eyes. “What are you talking about? There’s a ton of people here and they are all in my way!” You glared at him. “Including you.” 

He frowned but chose to selectively ignore that last comment. “Look at them, Y/N. Really look at them.”

You clenched your teeth but did as he said. “Look at what exactly?” The people around you looked like people and you weren’t sure what you were supposed to be seeing.

Kol’s tone softened. “Their clothes, love. Look at their clothes. What’s wrong with them?”

His words sounded like something out of a spot-the-difference book, yet now that he brought it to your attention, you couldn’t help but notice. An older woman across the street wore a long flowing dress - not the formal kind, however. The garment looked like something a medieval peasant might wear. You raised a brow and glanced behind you at the group of teenagers. They were dressed in bright colors and leg warmers. Not far in front of you stood a gentleman in a waistcoat and a gas mask, he checked his pocket watch before huffing something about always being late.

You felt a creeping chill crawl along your skin and, curious, you tugged on that feeling. The colors of your world dulled and changed, taking on a pale greenish hue as the sky turned black as pitch. A black coach drawn by black horses barreled around the corner at the end of the street and charged towards you at full speed. Your breath turned to mist as the temperature dropped below freezing. You braced yourself for a very painful impact as the horses skidded to a stop not even an arms-length in front of you. The driver of the coach laughed - you could see his ribs protruding from his chest - as the man in the gasmask climbed aboard. A whip cracked and Kol grabbed you, pulling you out of the way seconds before the black stallions lurched forward. You looked up at him, eyes wide. 

Kol’s skin glowed with a sickly light, blood seeped from a hole in his chest. A hole where his heart should have been. He smirked.

“Welcome to the land of the dead, love.”

You swallowed thickly and shook your head, trying to force down the bile climbing its way up your throat. “I don’t wanna see this. I don’t wanna see this!”

His eyes grew hard - like obsidian. “Then don’t.”

You squeezed your eyes shut and when you opened them, the world was as it always had been. Minus all the dead people who lingered around you like a stubborn cold. “Kol?”

He nodded, seemingly deep in thought. "Good to know you can control it…”

“Kol what’s going on?!” You demanded, feeling the panic rising in your voice. “What are you not telling me?”

He ran a hand through his hair, wetting his lips as he watched you for a moment. “I’ll tell you when I figure it out,” He sighed. “Now, let's go see your father.” He turned and started down the street but you heard the words he muttered under his breath. “I need to ask him a few million questions…”

You dashed after him, your mind a mess of unanswered riddles as you made your way back home. When you got to the door, you gasped. A pang of fear shot through your heart as your eyes landed on the busted lock. The door was barely still on its hinges. 

Kol eyed you wearily. “Darling, I don’t think you should-”

You ignored him.

“Dad?!” You called, rushing into the house. “DAD!” There were bullet holes in the wall to the left side of the foyer, you rounded the corner and stopped in your tracks.

Your father was lying on the kitchen floor, bloody and pale. Someone had slit his throat. He was dead - just as you had seen only minutes earlier. You were too late.

“I’m sorry, Y/N,” Kol said from behind you. His voice was gentle and compassionate - but you had heard those words already. You didn’t want to hear them again, not when you couldn’t do anything to change them. 

You felt your skin crawl again and reached for that feeling, pulling on it desperately. If your father was dead then you would be able to see him. The world darkened, taking on that greenish hue. But your father did not appear. He remained as he was, dead and bloody on the kitchen floor. Your hands curled into fists.

“Kol?” You spoke calmly. It was all you could do to keep from screaming and you wanted to scream. You wanted to scream more than you ever had in your life. “Where’s my dad?”

“I don’t know,” He said.

You whirled around to face him, glaring. “What do mean you don’t know?” You ground out. “You’re dead, you should know!”

Kol sighed. “When supernatural beings - people touched by magic, like me -  when they die, they linger in a world between worlds that most people refer to as the Other Side. But your father was human. He went somewhere else.” He reached out and took your hand comfortingly. “I don’t know where they go.”

You blinked. The realization of what his words meant crashed onto your shoulders with a weight even atlas could not bear. It was crushing you. “I’m never gonna see him again, am I?” 

He shook his head. “No.” Kol guided you into the living room, away from the body on the floor. “Come on, love. You don’t need to see him like this.”

You leaned your head against his chest but you didn’t cry. You couldn’t. You were too angry to cry. Someone had taken your father away and you didn't care what it took, you were going to make that monster pay. But first, you had to figure out what the hell was going on.

“What are you hiding from me, Kol?” You asked after a moment of sitting in silence. “Why is my father dead?”

The ghost boy winced. “I wasn’t hiding it from you, I just-”

“I don’t care about your reasons,” You said. “I just want the truth.”

Kol closed his eyes and let go of a long, heavy sigh. “I wasn’t certain before, but now…” He hesitated. “Y/N, I think you are a very rare supernatural occurrence that some call a Banshee.”

Your voice was flat as you stared at him, raising a brow. “A what?”

He blinked. “A Banshee.”

“Say that again?” You voiced dryly.

“A Banshee?” He repeated. “Did I not say that loud enough?”

You shook your head. “No, I’m just not believing what my ears are telling me.”

“I’m ninety-eight percent sure you’re a Banshee, love,” He said, offering a weak smile.

“You realize how crazy that sounds, right?” You deadpanned. 

He shrugged. “Definitly not even one of the top ten craziest things I’ve said, believe me.”

“Yeah, okay,” You chuckled but it was hysterical more than anything. You shoved yourself to your feet. “You’re wrong, though.”

“Pretty sure I’m not,” He hummed.

"No, Kol. Alright? Just no! I-I can't be a-a Banshee!" You insisted, pacing back and forth across your living room. Anything to keep your eyes away from… away from the kitchen.

Kol just sighed, watching you painfully. "Look, darling I get it. I understand that this isn't what you want to hear right now, especially in light of -" You shot him a dark look and he faltered. "- in light of recent events."

You shook your head. "This isn't about what I want to hear or not, okay? I'm pretty sure the universe doesn't care about what I want - this is about facts! First of all, I've screamed a heck of a lot in my lifetime, and not once has that scream done anything besides lose me my phone. I've never blasted anyone across the room and I've certainly never exploded anyone's brain. Secondly, I can't be a Banshee because, according to anything I've ever seen or read, Banshee's aren't people! They're ghosts!"

Kol's expression fell into something both pitying and grim. "I know."

"See?" You laughed. "So I can't be a-" The boy's expression didn't change, if anything it grew darker. "Kol?"

"This is why I didn't want to tell you," He said softly. The color drained from your face and you felt cold.

"Kol, what are you talking about?" 

He shook his head, watching you, his eyes brimming with sorrow. "I'm so sorry, Y/N."

Fear, black and thick and oozing, built up in your chest, forcing its way to your throat. You felt like you were choking. "Why-why are you - Why are you sorry?" Your voice was weak - close to breaking. "Sorry for what?"

His mouth opened but no sound came out. Then he closed his eyes and cursed under his breath, dragging a hand over his face. "Bloody hell, it just isn't fair," He muttered.

"What isn't fair?" You pressed, unsure whether you really wanted to know. You were pretty sure you didn't.

"It must have happened fairly recently." Kol refused to meet your eyes, choosing to focus on the ground instead. His voice was soft and overflowing with regret. "Before you met me, of course. Perhaps even before you started the semester." Your chest tightened at the words. "Your father mentioned once that you were involved in a car accident just before school began and I-" He bit his lip, cutting himself off. His voice dropped to whisper. "You know, I don't think it wouldn't have taken much."

"What does the crash have to do with anything?" There was nothing supernatural involved in that - just a guy being stupid. Kol continued.

"I can't imagine the strain of those first few months - I mean, you never even realized - it must have been exhausting. Using your magic so constantly would have forced it to grow stronger, which would have led to you seeing me."

You narrowed your eyes, your voice trembling. "What do you mean 'using my magic so constantly'? I-I don't understand."

Kol tore his hands through his hair, letting go of a string of curses. 

You couldn't stand it any longer. "What are you talking about?!" You cried. Then he finally looked up, he looked you directly in the eyes.

"The instant I tasted your blood I knew you couldn't be human."

“No.” Your brows furrowed and you backed away from him. "No. No, I am human. I am. I'm human, Kol. I'm human!"

“Shh, it’s alright! I believe you!” He tried to calm you but his words had no effect, you kept stumbling back, mumbling. He stood up and caught you in his arms, holding you still and close with one arm around your waist while his other hand stroked your cheek. “I believe you, Y/N. I believe you were human… once. But not anymore. You're far more exquisite. Truly delectable. Intoxicating… addictive."

"What does that-"

His eyes darkened. "Darling, I believe your blood does for me the same thing it does for you."

The world seemed to tilt under your feet. You felt sick. "No…"

"Or maybe I should say it's what you do to it."

"You're wrong. You have to be wrong," You whispered. 

"Think about it, love. Your blood makes me corporeal. It gives me tangibility, but not life. I can feed on you as much as I'd like, but your blood does not - cannot - bring me back from the dead."

"Stop it."

"It's not your blood that does this-" He held up his hand, waving it. "- It's something else - something in your blood - something inside you."

"You said I was a necromancer," You hissed, shoving him away. "You said that by feeding you my blood I was giving you access to my life force and that was tethering you to reality. You said I was a witch!"

Kol shook his head. "That's not how magic works, darling," He said. "You can't give me something you don't have."

You froze. "No."

"It's not life that runs in your veins. It's animation - puppet strings."

"Don't say that." You didn't want to hear it. "Please, don't say that."

"I don't think you survived that car accident, Y/N."

You clenched your teeth. "No! Stop it!"

"You see ghosts love, because you are one."

Your hands curled into fists. "I said stop!"

"To put it simply, you're strodïnger's girl-"

"Stop lying!"

"- A powerful spirit possessing your own undead corpse." 

He wouldn't stop talking and your whole world was crashing down around you. Your very reality was falling apart at your fingertips. 

You couldn't help but scream.

"SHUT UP!"

The words that left your mouth were a silent hurricane. You didn't hear a sound, but the power of your scream washed over Kol in a blast of targeted sound, sending him collapsing to his knees. He screamed, writhing on the floor in agony as he clasped his hands over his ears. Then he lay still. You blinked and gasped, your hands flying to your mouth as you realized what you'd done. You'd hurt him.

Within a second, you were at his side, whispering apologies as you guided his head into your lap. "I'm so sorry, Kol. I-I don't know what happened. I swear I didn't mean to."

Kol's eyes fluttered open and he squinted up at you in a daze. You placed a hand on the side of his face but quickly drew back when you felt something wet and sticky. His eyes closed and his head lolled to the side. A trail of blood streamed from his ears and he moaned in pain.

His ears were bleeding.

You looked at your hands covered in crimson.

Your vision wasn't finished with you yet. 

"Kol?" You brushed his hair back, shaking his shoulder. "Kol, wake up!" He didn’t move. “Come on! Come back I-I need you to come back!” The boy remained motionless. Your lips hardened into a thin line and you stood, straightening with resolve. You needed a knife, but you couldn’t go to the kitchen - not when he was still lying there. No. 

You searched the room for anything sharp, but it wasn’t as if you just had weapons lying around. Your eyes landed on a glass mantle ornament. You snatched it and threw it on the ground, watching unflinchingly as it hit the ground and shattered into a thousand razor-sharp pieces. You picked up a handful of the glass shards and squeezed. Blood oozed between your fingers but you could hardly register the pain. Anger and shock and fear were all you could feel - there was no pain as the glass sliced your flesh and no pain when you opened your palm and let the jagged pieces tumble to the floor. Kneeling over Kol’s body again, you forced your bloodied hand into his mouth and waited. 

Kol shot up hardly a second later, eyes black and fangs bared. He shoved your hand away and scrambled back, growling. You didn't flinch. You were already terrified, you didn't have it in you to be scared of him at the moment. Not when you were already terrified of yourself - of whatever abomination you were. That was what that voice in your vision had said, right? It had been referring to you, it must have been. You watched Kol recover with blank eyes and a blank expression. Taking a few deep breaths, his fangs retracted as his eyes faded back into their usual soft chocolate color. He wiped his mouth with the back of his hand and leveled you with a hard stare.

"I thought I told you never to do that," He hissed. His hands were shaking like those of an addict. You merely shrugged - unfazed.

"You weren't waking up," You replied flatly.

Kol's brows pulled together in confusion. "What?" 

You rolled your eyes. "I tried to wake you up but you wouldn't wake up so I resorted something drastic. Get over it," You huffed. You didn't have time for this. Something was going to happen - you could feel it like the oncoming tide. 

He tilted his head. "Huh?" He asked a little louder.

You groaned. "I said: I couldn't get you to wake up!"

"What?!" He was practically shouting at this point. You stared at him incredulously. He held up a hand to stop you and held the other hand to his ear, snapping his fingers a few times. "Huh, blown eardrums… that's a new one!" He grinned but the smile fell when he caught your unamused expression. "Give it a second." You stared at him for a few moments until he smirked, climbing to his feet and making a show of brushing himself off. “You should count yourself lucky I can heal fast, darling. Had I been any other poor bloke I think you would have permanently destroyed my hearing just now.”

“That’s not helping,” You mumbled, dragging your hand through your hair. Kol sighed, his shield of good humor falling away.

“You’re going to have to face this, Y/N, whether you want to or not. This isn’t something you can just ignore or wish away. You can’t afford to remain ignorant anymore! Someone killed your father-”

“Don’t say that.” You croaked, cutting him off.

“No, love, I will say it! You know why?” He shot back, voice rising. He took a step towards you. “Because someone was here to kill him! They killed him to get to you, and they are not going to stop. You said you wanted the truth? Well, here it is!”

“I didn’t want this!” You exclaimed, gesturing wildly. “I don’t want to be dead, Kol! Don’t tell me that I’m dead! I can’t-” You fell back onto the couch, exhausted and defeated. You hugged your knees close to your chest. “Don’t call me an abomination,” You whispered. 

“I didn’t.” Kol’s voice was soft again as he sat down and wrapped his arm around your shoulders. His hand smoothed up and down your arm. “You’re not an abomination, darling - if anything you’re a miracle.” He chuckled lightly, pressing a gentle kiss to your temple.

“They said I was unnatural,” You rasped, hugging your knees tighter. 

“Who did?” He urged. 

“Whoever killed my dad,” You answered. “They said I was an abomination.”

Kol snorted. “Figures.” He leaned back and guided you to rest your head on his chest, combing his fingers through your hair. “Well, good news, darling. I know who’s hunting you.”

“Who?” You sniffed, glancing up at him with red-rimmed eyes. But no tears. 

“Witches,” He replied. “They fancy themselves servants of nature - keepers of the balance.”

"So I am an abomination…"

Kol cupped your cheek, forcing you to look at him. "Allow me to let you in on a little secret, love. Usually I’m rather fond of witches, at least, individually because for the most part, they are a rather judgmental bunch of self-righteous maggots. Witches fear things that challenge their power, but that doesn't make you an abomination. After all, they tend to say the same about me and I don't know about you, but I think I'm rather charming."

His comment won a slight laugh from you though it wasn't entirely sincere. "They want me dead, don't they?" You said, distracting yourself with a loose thread on his jacket.

He stiffened and tugged you closer, pressing a kiss to your hair. "Let's just stick with what we know, yeah?"

"Apparently, I don't know much of anything," You grumbled.

"Well, lucky for you, I happen to know how to read," He teased, poking your side before continuing. "From what I've read, a Banshee is a spirit possessing its own corpse which means they effectively straddle the line between living and dead. They are heralds of death - not harbingers of it like many mistakenly believe - they foretell death but they themselves are not beholden to it, thus making them incredibly difficult to kill. For example, if I were to shoot you in the head right now, your soul would temporarily leave your body only to return and heal it completely."

"So the magical equivalent of turning it off and turning it back on again?" You supplied. 

"Basically," He agreed with a shrug. "I only know of one guaranteed way to kill a Banshee."

"And what's that?" You wondered.

"The complete obliteration of both their body and soul," Kol said, sounding far too grim for your liking. He pulled you closer, sensing your worry. "But you've no need to worry about that, darling. It's highly unlikely that whoever is hunting you would want you dead."

"Why not?" You asked.

"Isn't it obvious?" Kol shot you a confused look, brushing your hair off your forehead. "Killing something as extraordinary as you would be a massive waste considering how potent your blood is simply on its own. As far as necromancy goes I've never seen an ingredient that's quite it's equal, I can't even begin to imagine what something like your heart or eyes might do for a spell. Not to mention the versatility! Necromancy, divination - maybe even kemiya now that I think about it! This is really exciting actually, I-" He paused, finally seeming to notice the tremble that had spread through your entire body. You fisted his shirt, your breaths coming out in short, ragged gasps. "I said too much, didn't I?"

"Heart?" You choked out. "Eyes?"

He rubbed the back of his neck, clearly uncomfortable. "Ah… right… about that. Well, um, you see, they're very useful ingredients in dark spells," He defended, smiling wryly. "Not your liver, though! Or your kidneys… tonsils… appendix… spleen... Those you can keep."

"Gee, thanks. I feel so much better," You mumbled

"Sorry." He flashed you an apologetic smile. "At any rate, the complete obliteration of someone such as yourself would be entirely inconvenient as it would require a massive power source, such as a major celestial event or-"

"- A temporarily resurrected original vampire with the soul of an ancient witch from an infamously powerful bloodline who's spent a thousand years soaking up magic?" A voice drawled from behind you. Kol sprang up, pushing you to stand behind him as he positioned himself between you and the newcomer; a tiny black haired girl, no older than fifteen, who stood leaning in the doorway to the kitchen. She spun a knife, silver and silent, around and around between her fingers. "I think something like that could certainly do the trick, don't you?" She said, grinning with a predatory gleam in her eyes. 

"Chrissy," Kol identified the intruder and flashed her a very fake smile. "Of all my siblings' downright miserable sirelings, you were always the one I hated the least."

"I'll take that as a compliment," She smirked. Her voice was light and raspy, not exactly pleasant but sort of intriguing.

"As you should," He hummed. "It's been a while since I've seen your adorable little face - summer of 1623, if memory serves. How have you been, darling?" The pet name wasn't sweet or endearing like it was when he spoke to you, rather it sounded cold and condescending and strangely pointed - as if he were reminding her of something.

The young girl grimaced. "I honestly have no clue how long it's been and I honestly don't care because it cannot have been long enough. And I've been pretty great - certainly better than you."

Kol scoffed. "I'll have you know that I only died because I tried to prevent Armageddon."

Chrissy hissed in faux sympathy. "Tough luck, my friend," She laughed, tossing her knife into the air and catching it again. Then she pointed it at him, waving it around like an extra finger. "I get it though. See, that's what happens when you try to go straight. Ya' try to do something good and those filthy ingrates stab ya in the back for it - nobody appreciates people like us."

"No one," Kol agreed.

"Not even people like us." The girl's mouth twisted into a sharp smirk. "So what do ya' say we just skip this part where we pretend to be civil and get right down to business." 

"You're as delightfully blunt as I remember, darling. Still bounty hunting I see?" He said, shifting his weight forward just slightly.

"Yep. And you're in my way." She pushed off the door frame, taking a step into the room. Kol snarled at the hunter and pushed you further behind him. The girl's brows shot up. "Did-did you just growl at me?"

He shrugged. "It worked last time, figured it was worth a shot."

She frowned at him. "Dude, I was fourteen last time. I am seven hundred years old now, you arrogant weasel. It's gonna take a little bit more than growling to scare me off.

"Seven hundred?" He repeated, feigning surprise and disbelief. "Well you sure don't look it. Are you sure it's not past your bedtime?" He jeered.

Chrissy gave him the most insincere smile you'd ever seen. "Good sir…" She took a deep breath. "You suck… Now, step aside."

"I don't think so, darling," He said coolly. 

"I'm asking nicely."

"And I'm declining nicely." He smirked. "I could have ripped your head off by now."

"And I could have incompasitated you and your girlfriend in about one hundred different ways throughout the past fifteen minutes." The girl's eyes were oddly dark. They had no definable iris - only pupil - like pools of black tar. "And that's without using any of the cool little secrets they teach you when you join the Stryx."

Kol's entire body stiffened at that one word. You figured it must have meant something very bad. 

"You're bluffing, " He called. "You're not part of the Stryx, you're not Elijah's-"

"Nope!" Chrissy cheered. "But I am adorable! And I've gotten very good at my job over the years so I suggest you step aside."

Her words only seemed to further strengthen Kol's resolve. "Not a chance in hell."

"Who hired you?" The words were out of your mouth before you could think them through. If this kid or whatever was a bounty hunter then someone had hired her, right? Chrissy turned to you, she was a rather unassuming girl, not exactly intimidating but you supposed that was the point.

"Finally, someone asking the right questions," She mused. "Witches hired me, honey."

"How'd they know about me?" You demanded.

The girl smirked. "Oh that's easy," She hummed, jerking a thumb in Kol's direction. "His mom told 'em." That statement sent your ghost boy into a whole new state of alarm. The girl continued. "She doesn't like you very much - somethin' about two abominations corrupting the balance of nature or some crap like that. I overheard this freaky possessed lady say the Original Witch has a plan for her children and it doesn't involve you."

"My mother wants to murder her children!" Kol argued, seeming very agitated now. "She wants to exterminate the vampire race, including you!"

"Sounds like an excellent reason to ensure both she and you stay very dead," Chrissy remarked.

Kol's jaw locked and his expression hardened into one of cold determination. "I swear on the Nornir, I will not let you take her," He said.

"Oh, Kol… you know I never believed in your gods." Chrissy smirked. "Let's see them hold you to your promise." 

"Close your eyes, darling, " Kol said. "I don't want you to see this."

To eyes as slow as yours, what followed was more or less a blur. Chrissy rushed at Kol and he planted his feet to push back, but at the last second she dodged left and dropped to the ground. Hooking an arm around his knee, she used her momentum to swing around, throwing him off balance as she drove her foot into the back of his ankle. He grunted and collapsed onto one knee. Chrissy didn't give him so much as a second to recover before jamming her elbow into his shoulder. She spun, aiming another kick at the side of his head but he reached back and caught her foot. She cried out and you heard something snap as he tightened his grip before throwing her forward right over his head. There was another snap as Kol twisted her leg sharply and pulled her towards him. He raised his fist and brought it down but she caught it and flipped him on his back. Chrissy recovered faster and managed to trap Kol in a headlock with her leg. Unfortunately for her, Kol brought his fist down on her shin and from the crunching noise that followed, you were pretty sure he'd succeeded in shattering it. The girl screamed and you had to remind yourself that her youthful appearance was nothing more than a facade - she was an ancient being bent on killing you. Chrissy scrambled back and Kol recovered, rising to his full height.

"Come now, darling - don't tell me that's all you've got," He taunted, grinning down at her. 

Chrissy just laughed. "Not by a long shot, old man." 

She shot to her feet and, sprinting up the wall behind her, she vaulted over her opponent's head and landed on his shoulders in a hand-stand, shoving him to the ground while she threw her weight back and forced her heels into his ribcage. Kol gasped as another sick crack echoed through the air. Chrissy, already upright, sent a punch directly into his teeth. Kol growled and tried to grab her head but she shoved his hands away. He caught her shoulders instead and pulled her down so he could slam his head against her chin. You knew for a fact, that between the two of them, Kol definitely had the thicker skull. Chrissy reeled back and he took that as his opportunity to throw her off. 

You could see the blood coating his teeth as he stood and grinned before rushing her. He grabbed the bounty hunter by the shoulders and slammed her head into his knee, then into the wall and then into his knee again before throwing her down on the floor face first. Planting his foot at the base of her spine, he caught her hair in his fist and twisted it around his hand, tugging her head up sharply.

"My sweet little Chrissy," He hummed, smirking. "I taught you well, but you'll never be able to beat me."

"I know!" Her tone was something between a pained hiss and a gleeful laugh - it was unhinged and insane. Those frightening black eyes were open wide, rolling back in their sockets to catch a glimpse of him. "It's why I never intended to!"

She flicked her wrist and a gleaming knife slid into her hand. Reaching behind her, Chrissy sheared her hair from Kol's grip causing him to stumble from the force of his own pull. She rolled and climbed to her feet before twisting around and flinging the knife directly into Kol's chest. He scowled and ripped it out but he was too slow. You had watched enough action movies to identify the SMG Chrissy wrenched from her waistband. 

You tried to scream - to use your Banshee nature to save Kol. But you couldn't. Your mouth opened but there was nothing to be heard.

Chrissy leveled the gun at Kol and squeezed the trigger. He wasn't faster than a bullet and those bullets fired faster than you could comprehend. The magazine was empty in less than a second and the damage had been done. He looked down and watched the blood seep through his clothes. There were so many holes. His stomach and chest turned red. The boy blinked and took a shuddering breath before collapsing to his knees with a whimper of pain.

"No," You whispered. He glanced at you, his expression full of regret. His gaze shifted back to Chrissy.

"Y-you cheat-" The boy coughed and a trail of blood dribbled from the corner of his mouth. "You cheated," He accused.

"Yeah, I did," Chrissy panted, staggering into a wall. She leaned on it for support and waved the gun in his face. "Thirty wooden rounds, sweetheart. Your insides are shredded." She tossed the gun away, sneering. "I didn't have to beat you, I just had to hurt you bad enough to get you down." She pushed herself off the wall and strode over to him, grabbing a handful of his hair. "Night-night, Kol." Then she wrenched his head to the side with an ear-splitting snap. He crumpled to the ground and didn't move again.

You gasped, unable to tear your eyes away from your love's lifeless body. Chrissy knelt down and pulled out a syringe which she then stabbed into his arm. She was silent as she filled it with his blood, but then she stood and turned to you.

"Your turn," She said, tonelessly.

"Please don't do this," You begged, backing away pointlessly. "Please just let me go?"

The bounty hunter just sighed, her voice was cold and apathetic. "You know, even if you can't see it, I'm actually doing you a favor." Before you could blink, the girl rushed to your side and jabbed a needle into your arm. You cursed. Then the world went black.

When you woke up, there was ringing in your ears, your eyelids felt like one-hundred pound weights, and you could actually hear yourself blinking. It didn't take you long to figure out that your hands were bound and that there was some sort of apparatus covering your mouth - a muzzle, you realized. They had muzzled you like some deranged animal.

You opened your eyes, squinting against the light of a streetlamp glowing gold in the misty night. This was a car you were sitting in. You glanced out the passenger's side window and were met with the sight of a gas pump. You turned your head to look out the other window and saw Chrissy leaning against the car, staring out into space while she waited for the tank to fill up. Once that was done, she paid and climbed back into the vehicle. The door shut with a bang and you sat still as a statue, waiting to see what the bounty hunter would do. She just stared straight ahead for a few more moments. Then she turned to you.

"Hi." Her smile was friendly enough. You tried to say something in return but the instant you made a sound, a burning pain shot through your chest. "Yeah, don't bother talking. The witches made that for you to make sure you can't scream. It's nothing personal, but I just don't trust you not to blow me to bits or whatever it is a Banshee does." Well, you couldn't exactly fault her for that. You wouldn't trust you either. "You weren't supposed to be up yet, but I guess you burned through that sedative pretty quick, huh?" She laughed softly and looked back out the windshield at that glowing street lamp. "This isn't personal, sweetheart. I don't think you deserve to die and usually I wouldn't even take a job like this one, but when somebody offers me the chance to hurt Kol Mikaelson - Well there's no way I could pass that up. So, for what it's worth… I'm sorry." The girl sighed and turned to you with a small but kind smile.

"Can I offer you a word of advice? You don't have to say yes, but you remind me a lot of myself and I've watched enough girls fall into your position to know that I honestly want to help you."

The blank expression on her face startled you. Her eyes held nothing but tired honesty. Those eyes were much too tired for her youthful face. So you nodded, and she offered you a slight smile.

"Kol doesn't love you, Y/N," She said. You wanted to speak up and tell her otherwise but you couldn't, so you just glared. "I know it's not what you want to hear, but it's the truth. He doesn't love you because Kol Mikaelson isn't capable of love or compassion of any kind. He loves only what you can do for him." Her voice was cold but patient, like a concerned friend. It was genuine in a way you didn't expect. "He'll tell you everything you want to hear, touch you just the way you can't resist, twist you up, make you love him, and then he'll throw you away just like the hundreds of other girls he's kissed before you. I've watched him do it for seven hundred years. You're not special to him - you're nothing to him. You're just another useful dalliance he's using to fill that hole in his chest where his heart's supposed to be.

"He'll come to rescue you - that I can guarantee - but it won't be because he couldn't live without you, though I bet that's exactly what he'll say because he finds humor in the double meaning of it. He can't live without you - the maniac's hooked on your blood. That's what he'll be coming for - not you." Chrissy chuckled bitterly.

"He doesn't care about you." She turned the key to start the car. "He never cared about any of us."

Her words did not escape you. What did that statement mean? You wished you could ask but the muzzle kept you mute. The inquisitive expression on your face when she glanced at you must have prompted her to speak further.

"Kol found me on the streets," She admitted. "I was young and I was starving and he gave me bread. In exchange, I would steal things for him and eavesdrop on some very dangerous people." Her expression grew pained. "I thought he was my friend. He gave me food, made me laugh, held me when I was upset - he treated me almost like a little sister. And he told me that if I worked hard enough, he would make me like him and I could be a part of his family. He-he promised…" The girl's hands tightened on the steering wheel, her knuckles turning white as her voice quieted even further. "He left me in a gutter instead."

Chrissy met your gaze; her eyes were hard but full of something fair. 

"Where's he gonna leave you, I wonder?"

She didn't say anything for the rest of the ride.

The field you arrived in was lush and green. Chrissy parked the car and got out, moving over to the other side to pull you out as well. She walked you forward into a circle of stern faced men and women. Their eyes followed you as the bounty hunter brought you to an elderly woman you could only assume was their leader. Chrissy dropped the vial of Kol's blood into the woman's hand, nodded to you and then left without another word. You watched her drive away and wondered if she'd been right. Somehow, you weren't angry about what she'd done.

"Do you know why you are here, abomination?" The voice belonged to the old woman. She sneered at you as though you were something filthy. Her voice was cruel, just like that of the person who had killed your father.

All you could do was shake your head.

"You are here because you have perverted the natural law. Possessing another being is dark magic, possessing a corpse is forbidden, but to possess one's own undead form is a violation of the most unholy order. The spirits have judged you guilty of this heinous crime and as servants of nature it is our duty to cleanse the earth of your filth." The elder opened the vial of Kol's blood and dipped her finger in it, reaching up, she dabbed the blood on your eyelids then drew a line over your heart with the rest. Then she closed her eyes and began to chant with the rest of the witches following suit.

A searing pain exploded in your chest. Your heart felt like it was being torn in half and your eyes burned as though they were on fire. You wanted to scream but the muzzle choked you. It hurt so bad, you fell to the ground, curling into a ball as tears ran down your face. You prayed for Kol to find you. You prayed for him to save you.

"Excuse me ladies… and gents, sorry there mate - didn't see you." Upon hearing that familiar silky voice, your heart soared. The changing cut off and the pain in your chest eased. "Thank you all for coming, but I'm afraid I simply cannot allow this to continue."

You let go of a shuddering breath, content to lay in the dirt and recover.

"Kol Mikaelson," The cruel woman spat. "The Butcher comes to save his unholy pet."

"Are you jealous?"

The witch scoffed. "It is an abomination!"

"Perhaps, but she's my abomination and I'd very much like her back now," Kol said. "If you return her willingly, who knows? I might just let one or two of you live."

"We would rather die than-"

Kol cut her off with a gleeful laugh. "I was hoping you'd say that! How wonderful that we're all in agreement!" He clapped his hands together. "One last thing: when you see my mother tell her to shove it up her's."

The sounds that followed made you sick. People screaming. Bones breaking. You were glad you kept your eyes closed. But it wasn't too long before everything was all too silent.

"Darling?" You leaned into his touch as Kol gently gathered you in his arms. Residual pain still lingered in your bones from whatever the witches had tried to do. "My love, what have they done to you?" He whispered as his fingers trailed over the straps that held the muzzle in place. After a few tries, he successfully tugged it off and threw it far away. It slithered across the grass as you finally opened your eyes. Kol watched you with a soft smile and his thumb stroked your cheek. You took a breath…

Then you cried. 

"You're alright, love. I'm right here," He murmured, pressing a kiss to your forehead. "I'll always protect you… I couldn't live without you."

Kol held you as he always had, rubbing your back and whispering sweet nothings into your ear. He picked you up and you saw a field of grass and blood before he took off and brought you back home. Later that night, when you had cried yourself to sleep, he whispered that sweet promise.

But Chrissy's words still rang in your ears.

And you wondered. 

Did he love you?

Or did he love the Herald of Death?

Tagging: @yn-ymn-yln @r13mar @rootbeerfaygo @iiskittles16ii @fandomrulesall-blog @dark-night-sky-99 @railingsofsorrow @apolloroid @rootbeerfaygo

[spideyyboii]

Christmas Can Be Fun

pairing: natasha romanoff x reader

summary: unknown to you, your girlfriend hated Christmas and everything that goes with it. So when December rolls around and your apartment is filled with decorations there's not much to do but panic. 

warnings: natasha being a grinch

word count: 1.2k 

||natasha romanoff masterlist||main masterlist||christmas masterlist||

When yours and Natasha’s relationship began she had made you aware of the way she grew up. How the Red Room had conditioned her into a killing machine with no mercy, she also shared that she’d never experienced a real Christmas. Only once in her childhood had she been shown a tree with presents sitting under it and that was to keep the facade of a happy family.

Your first Christmas with Natasha was hard, even though she had been freed from the Red Room for nine years she had still avoided the topic of Christmas. Once December first rolls around the redhead is quick to start pushing her teammates and friends away, especially Clint. So when your first Christmas together came up you were beyond confused as to why your girlfriend happened to be avoiding you every chance she got.

“Hey Clint, sorry to bother you but you’ve known Nat along time has she by any chance mentioned her reasoning for avoiding me?” You questioned the man hoping the two friends had sat and spoken about what was bothering your partner. “Oh honey, don’t stress it’s got nothing to do with you Nat just isn’t a fan of Christmas it reminds her of what she never had. Every year Laura and I invite her to join us and every year she turns it down. I think it just reminds her of the fact that she never got a real family.” Clint explained hoping it would calm your nerves. “Thanks Clint, I really appreciate you talking to me about this, might make it easier for when I next see her.”

After your conversation with Clint you were more understanding of your partner's reasoning for ignoring you, however it did sting that she felt as though she couldn’t express her feelings to you. You were aware that there was nothing you could do to show Natasha that Christmas could be fun as she’s already spent her entire life hating everything that went with it.

Once you eventually saw your girlfriend you tried to avoid the topic of Christmas as you didn’t want to spoil her mood but it seemed extremely challenging. “So I was thinking we could do dinner at your place tonight as Tony plans on making the Compound a Winter Wonderland.” The redhead said in disgust, “No!” You exclaimed, shocking the woman in front of you, “How about we go out to eat, my place is probably a bit boring for you. You know staring at the same four walls.” You rambled hoping she’d drop the topic of your apartment that was currently covered in Christmas decorations. “Why on earth would I want to go out and be surrounded by people I don’t know when I could be snuggling with my girlfriend in the privacy of her home?” She questioned finding it suspicious that you didn't want her in your apartment. “What are you hiding from me darling? There's something in your apartment that you don’t want me to see.” She continued. “Baby, it’s just that my place is very festive and I don’t want to upset you. I decorated before I knew you-” Before you could finish explaining the redhead had cut you off with a gentle kiss, “Darling I may not be particularly fond of this time of year but I won't stop you from celebrating. I know how much you enjoy Christmas and buying everyone presents so they feel special so when Christmas Day rolls around I’ll try to enjoy myself. Now let's get to that apartment of yours and you can introduce me to some of your favourite films.”

You spent the rest of the evening under the blankets with Natasha, showing her the most popular christmas films, her favourite turned out to be the Grinch. You both agreed that the Grinch did nothing wrong and that Whoville deserved to have their Christmas stolen after the way they treated the Grinch. “So have you enjoyed today?” You asked, hoping she’d be honest with you, “I’m surprised at how much fun the lead up to Christmas can be, I’ve enjoyed sitting here and doing nothing except from watching movies and drinking hot chocolate. I wanna do it properly this year. Would you be annoyed if I asked Clint for us to join him?” Your girlfriend rambled on making your heart flutter as you never expected her to be this open to the idea of celebrating a day that’s always made her sad.

Once she got off the phone with Clint and he agreed to have you both celebrate with the Barton family, you were ecstatic. “Nat, we need to get Clint and the family a present, you know him best, what would he want?” You rambled beyond excited about celebrating with the one you love.

Before you knew it Christmas Day was here, you woke Nat up at the crack of dawn barely able to contain your excitement. “It’s Christmas!” You shouted, causing the redhead to groan, “five more minutes.” She mumbled not matching your excitement. “I have coffee and presents.” You bribed. Once Nat had downed her coffee she finally joined you in having the Christmas spirit, “This is for you, it’s not very big but I hope you like it.” You said whilst handing your girlfriend a neatly wrapped present, anxious to see her reaction. “Baby, this is beautiful, thank you. I couldn’t have asked for anything better.” The redhead pulled you in for a kiss, tears welling in her eyes at your thoughtful present. “How did you even get half of these?” She asked with a laugh. “I may have forced Tony to go through the CCTV of everywhere we’ve been. He wasn’t very willing but I think he knew just how important it was to me, I really wanted you to have an amazing first Christmas.” You explained happy that your memory book of your relationship with Natasha was appreciated. “Well, I couldn’t have asked for anything better. I love you, now open my gift.” Nat said whilst handing you a small gift with a nervous smile on her face. As you opened the gift it was as though you fell more in love with the woman in front of you, she had gifted you a necklace that had her black widow symbol hanging from it. “I remember you saying you hate when I go away on missions so I thought you could have a piece of me with you at all times.” She said hoping you didn’t find it stupid. “Natasha Romanoff. I love you, thank you for making me the luckiest girl on the planet.”

Eventually yourself and Nat were done with your festivities and decided to make your way to the Barton household. “If it becomes too overwhelming for you, don’t hesitate to tell me and we can leave.” You told Natasha knowing that this could upset her. The door was thrown open by a young girl, “Auntie Nat, you came!” She exclaimed pulling the redhead into the house, “I see you’ve met Lila, she’s wanted Nat to come to Christmas for years so it’s safe to say she’s a bit excited.” Clint explained giving you a hug, “There’s no need to worry, she’s going to be just fine. We’re her family and she’ll understand that Christmas is wonderful when you spend it with the ones you love.” He continued smiling at the sight of his best friend unwrapping presents with his children.

Before you knew it Christmas was over, you were full of Turkey and unhealthy treats made by the kids. Nat and you decided it would be best to crash at Clint’s for the evening, “Thank you for today, you showed me that Christmas is worth celebrating.”

[anoseforrottenapples]

While Jane is quite comfortable doing all the sleuthing on her own when she needs too, she has no qualms handing clues over to younger and more energetic detectives, or Private Investigators as Nancy has christened herself. She is at an age now where she is content to focus her abilities on gossiping over cups of tea, observing her neighbors from her garden, and making seemingly random small talk at parties. Nancy, on the other hand, has all the pep, vigor, and resilience of youth. There are few places she will not go to follow her clues, and the more physically active a case is then the more excited she becomes. She would delight in the confrontation with Grinch becoming almost physical, considering such a reaction as proof positive to the theories the women have developed. “Three more?” Jane rose both eyebrows and eagerly set her saucer back down on the table. “Now of course I knew about him hiding all of that money he stole under Mrs. Wilmer’s lovely hyacinths, and I was quite sure he had hidden his late wife’s jewelry nearby, most likely mixed in with the iris bulbs. Hiding the jewelry off his own property was the only way to ensure the police would not find it on accident, thus supporting the claims that it was stolen. This would also allow him to collect the insurance money… and jewels like that are always insured for a tidy sum. Of course, I always suspected he had had a hand in his poor wife’s passing as well… but what was the other crime?” Jane knew Grinch to be a dirty little thief, taking advantage of his position as treasurer to rob his church of a tidy sum of money. He had skimmed all of it off the top of the collection plate, doing it steady and slowly enough that he amassed quite a tidy pile before the poor vicar noticed. The idea that he was committing insurance fraud over his wife’s expensive jewelry tied into the idea that he had murdered the poor woman for her life insurance. Just like stealing from the church, he had committed these crimes so slowly and methodically so that no one would suspect anything to be amiss.   Except that it is rarely just ill fate that allows a man to be surrounded by so many tragedies in such a short span of time. To lose his wife in her sleep after a gradual decline of health is a seemingly natural outcome… but there is nothing natural about all of her jewelry going missing a few days after the funeral, and for the vicar at Mr. Grinch’s church to suddenly find a steady pattern of discrepancies in the donations. The latter two events also happened against the background of Mr. Grinch abruptly announcing that he is selling his home in River Heights, and moving to the Caribbean to ‘really get away from it all’. Nancy’s request for an explanation brings a smile to Jane’s lips. “Well… it was several things I suppose. Firstly, Mr. Grinch has had far too many things shake his world in the last few weeks, and they all seem to be connected. You’ve heard the old saying, ‘when it rains, it pours?’” She prompts Nancy to remember. “Well, when they say that, they generally mean a whole collection of unconnected events all happening at the same time. You know, your car gets a flat tire, your father abruptly announces he has to take a business trip to London, and your favorite dress gets a tear in the skirt all in the same morning. All surprising, and somewhat irking but clearly unconnected.” Needing to moisten her throat, Jane retrieves her teacup and takes a sip. “In Mr. Grinch’s case, though, everything was a bit too connected. His wife’s jewelry is stolen right after her funeral? He is filing for multiple kinds of insurance at once, the vicar at his church finds a large amount of money missing, and he is planning on leaving the country very soon after his wife’s passing? That is far too much to be mere coincidences, Nancy.” Taking another sip of tea, she thoughtfully adds. “It reminds me of young Silvas Martins, back in Saint Mary’s Mead. He was a slick young man from Brighton, and convinced many of the villagers to invest in a resort he planned to build on one of the near-by lakes. Right when people began to suspect his resort would never materialize, Silvas announced he needed to travel to Glasgow so he would be gone for a few days. The police caught him in Liverpool, trying to get work on a cargo ship that would take him out of the country.”

“As for knowing what he was doing in the neighbor’s yard on Saturday… well… that was simply because Mr. Grinch did not know his plants. I saw him in Mrs. Wilmer’s garden on Saturday evening, and casually mentioned it when I ran into him at the post office on Monday morning. He told me that he was helping Mrs. Wilmer plant some new hydrangeas, hence why he needed the shovel. That’s how I knew he was lying. Firstly, one plants new hydrangeas either in the fall, or earlier in the spring… and it is now the middle of July. Secondly, one never goes digging around in a garden at night unless you are a boy looking for nightcrawlers. To garden at night is quite risky—one could end up digging into roots or otherwise damaging healthy plants. To claim he was planting new flowers in a bed at night is really quite silly to anyone who knows anything about gardening!” Of course, that means this information might have gone over Nancy’s head. While Nancy has many skills, interests, and hobbies, she has never displayed much of a green thumb that Jane has ever seen. She can appreciate flowers, and admire a lovely garden, but the process of turning a patch of dirt into said lovely garden is an unsolvable mystery to Nancy. Mr. Grinch’s comments might have struck the girl as peculiar, but Jane doubts Nancy would have been able to read much more into them.

Nancy Drew & Miss Marple: @anoseforrottenapples

"It would seem your theory holds some credence, Miss Marple." Comes Nancy's poised response. "Would you believe Josiah Grinch just about bowled over the sheriff in an attempt to evacuate the premises?" A near-wicked grin curls across her lips. "And it's all because I alluded to the fact that you knew what he'd been up to last Saturday? With his shovel in neighbors yard--"

The teen detective eagerly leans forward in her chair. "He confessed to at least three other crimes with how fast he was speaking." She pauses. "So Miss Marple, how was it that you figured he was the guilty party so quickly?" Nancy presses. If only so that she may make note of the other woman's methods.

[ebonyslasher]

Christmas....Slasher Edition 🔪🩸🎄

I'm not really into holiday type fics or reading but I wanted to give something to you all. From me to you. Happy Holidays!

Michael Audrey Myers is and always has been utterly obsessed with you. It's only logical that he would pay attention to your interests and what you like. He does appreciate it if you tell him what you'd want up front. He prefers things that way

If you ask for anything specific, he will either:

A) Steal from someone's house (might kill them too) or

B) Steal it from the store

Either way, you're gonna get your gift. He's very determined about it.

Michael is not a Christmas person- very loyal to his main love Halloween. He'll help you decorate but won't put his energy into it.

You had a brilliant idea to remix his favorite holiday in by doing Xmas pumpkin carving! Now there are a few pumpkins (expertly carved by yours truly) with some Santa hats and lights on the front porch. Michael is very pleased

So what'd you get him this year? A hand picked, hand crafted special made kill kit with unique killing devices.

Also a flame retardant, bulletproof mechanic jumpsuit too. Michael thinks you're wonderful and smart to think this up

Jason loves Christmas but never gets to celebrate anymore. Last time he did, it was when his mom was alive...

However, now that you're here, he has a reason to celebrate again!

The cabin still needs a good fix up, but that doesn't stop you two from dressing it up real nice. Multicolored lights were scattered across the house and roof, and plenty of dressed up snowmen and snow reindeer 🦌 were made too.

Jason chopped down a very pretty tree a few days ago to decorate. You use some ornaments you brought with you. Jason uses some that his mom kept hidden away.

He even bakes some cookies for Santa to eat. How cute

Jason hand makes whatever presents he wants to give. Or he can just give you all the debit and credit cards he's collected recently.

And you get him......a bunch of toys~. That way he can play and feel free whenever he likes.

Brahms loves Christmas cause he gets to be selfish and get away with it.

He'll give you a list of everything he wants. Including a few nice cardigans, blankets, fidget toys, a pocket pu-...my goodness gracious 🙄

Let's just ignore that last one

You make a great Christmas dinner with his help. And he actually helps this time. You'll have to watch over him since he messes things up pretty quick

What does he get you? Well him of course!

He's the greatest present of all. Really- he will let you tell him what to do without question and is pleasant all day.

Bubba is excited for the holidays since it's the only time his family gets along!

.....kinda but it's better than normal.

Their Xmas "tree" is a tree made up of an assortment of bones with ornaments hanging on them. It's low-key impressive. The only way you all get a white (with some yellow and black) Christmas in Texas.

Unless you're cool with cannibalism, I suggest making your own Christmas dinner off to the side.

Bubba can't really afford to give you gifts- so he makes something nice for you. He's very sweet.

You get him some very sharp and durable tools that make it easier to cut up corpses. The handles are different colors too.

You also get him the greatest apron ever.

Watching all the Christmas movie classes- a whole marathon. Grandma got run over by a reindeer, how the Grinch stole Christmas, A Charlie Brown Christmas, etc etc.

Also, you're all wearing ugly Christmas sweaters

Spiked eggnog going on for sure. Heavy on the spiked part

Part of the day entails dancing around with Stu singing some songs and playing random Xmas games with Billy

Also, someone's chasing everyone with a mistletoe...you all know who

They both are very good bfs and get you everything you wanted (it might be stolen but that's okay)

What you get them: Stu gets some joke/prank gifts, a couple of beanies, and a piercing gun (hey so he wants a couple of piercings...don't judge); Billy gets a nice watch and some of the newest clothes from his face brand

[jarofstyles]

are skaterboirry and yn getting up to anything this holiday season

They are!

-

“See… I’ve always thought the grinch was misunderstood.” Harry said around a mouthful of popcorn.

The projector was put up on his wall, Y/N curled into his side as they munched on sugar cookies and popcorn. Spiked eggnog they had stolen was warming them but that didn’t stop Y/N from sprawling over her boyfriend like a starfish.

“Harry… what?” She turned to look at him with a confused look. She had just been trying to enjoy the grinch but her boyfriend’s commentary had made her more amused than anything else. It also could have something to do with the shared blunt. Still, it had her giggling.

“Yeah.” He said after swallowing. “S’like… of course the fucked was gonna hate Christmas. It’s the holiday all the little fucks down the mountain loved and they bullied the shit out of him. For what? Being green?” He scoffed, shaking his head. His large hand found its way underneath her -his- shirt.

Y/N blinked a few times, lifting her head to look at him. He did have a point, of course. But it always amazed her to hear some of the things that left his mouth. No one really knew the true comedian and thoughtful man Harry was, at least not to her her extent.

“But that doesn’t mean he should ruin their Christmas.” She said level headed. The attention has turned from the movie to each other.

“Mm, no. He shouldn’t, but I suppose it depends on your morals. They ruined his life, yeah? He felt so bad he had to turn bitter and run off to the mountains… and they still spread rumors about him after he fucked off. Superficial lot of ‘em. I can’t say I blame him for getting tired of them. Especially after they run up and trespass for what? A joke?” He scoffed.

Y/N looked at him in wonder. Her brilliant boy, a whiz in science and on a skateboard, was having a true moral debate over the grinch. She had assumed they’d watch the movie until he got too handsy and then… have some nice lazy sex. A good gift. But this was definitely another option.

“I-“ he cut her off to continue. “No no, and then at the end he gives it all back and all that. He has a good heart! Maybe a bit of a dick. But I am too.” He shrugged. That, Y/N couldn’t disagree with. He could be, bur usually only when warranted. “Dunno, it’s ways to paint people as villains, babe. The whole town against one guy for lookin’ weird and eating onions. It’s sad, innit?” He frowned harder.

“Uh…” she chuckled, placing a hand on his face. “Your mind both terrifies and amazes me. I cant say I’ve thought about it too much, lovely.” She kissed the furrow between his brow, making it soften. “But we can be on team grinch then, hm?” Y/N cupped his cheeks and pressed a smooth kiss to his mouth, wiping away a bit of popcorn from his chin.

“But I do think that’s enough substances to influence you tonight. Merry Christmas.” She giggled, watching his eyes turn back to the screen.

[emwritesfootball]

Her Majesty's Men 2 | Mason Mount

Word Count: 1,512

Warnings: mentions of drugs, but that's about it. An intro to the Men

- - -

Notting Hill, London, England

Declan double- and triple-checks the address that Mason sent him as he walks the streets of Notting Hill. It’s for a pub he’s never been to before, but he’s heard rumours about a secret underground club modeled after the American Prohibition Era that has exotic dancers.

“Dec! Hey!” Mason greets Declan the moment he walks into the pub. “How have you been?”

Declan shrugs, hating that he has to break the news to Mason like this. The two of them grew up at Chelsea’s Academy together, remaining friends even when Dec got let go. A few years later, Mason was let go, too, and the boy in front of him seems to be doing fairly well. “West Ham let me go last week.”

Mason curses, shaking his head. “I’m so sorry, mate. Can’t believe they can just let us go like we’re expendable.”

“Yeah.” Declan smiles ruefully, sighing. “I’m staying with my sister but I know she wants me to get a job - I want to get a job - but I don’t know where to start. I remember at that party last year with the rest of the Chelsea Dropouts where you mentioned something about working for the Queen and-” Declan pauses, confused as to why Mason is howling with laughter. “What’s so funny?”

“You think- ahaha - you think I work for the Queen?! Oh, my god!” Mason wipes tears of laughter from his eyes. “I guess you could say I work for Liz, but not in the way you think that I do…”

“Liz? You call the Queen by a nickname?!”

Mason snorts, the laughter threatening to return again. “How about I show you instead?” He looks at his watch, draining his beer, and Declan finds himself doing the same thing. “Follow me, Deccers.”

Declan follows, his mind slightly occupied with the fact that he saw Mason drop two £20 bills on two pints at the bar before walking away.

The rumours were true. Declan can’t figure out how he couldn’t hear the raucous laughter and thumping bass from the DJ in the booth. He’s pretty sure he recognizes the DJ, but he’s impossible to place from so far away. Instead, Declan focuses on Mason, watching as his ex-teammate weaves through the crowd. It’s all women, he realizes, but then someone slaps his ass as he walks past and he turns to find an older woman looking at him appreciatively.

“Are you one of them?” She asks, shouting over the music.

“Who?” Declan responds, confused.

Before she can reply, Declan feels Mason’s hand wrap around his wrist and pull him through a door. The music dampens, seeping through the door, but only to provide a backdrop. “Don’t stop for the vultures, mate. Although, I think that one’s more of a cougar than anything.” He laughs at his own joke, shaking his head.

“Hush! Like you haven’t thrown yourself to the cougars more times than any of us!” Jack Grealish’s Brummie accent gets Declan’s attention.

“Sod off!” Mason rolls his eyes, turning to Declan. “Don’t pay Jacky Boy any mind - he’s just here for the brainless hen party pussy. You might remember him from a couple friendlies between our academy teams, but I guarantee you that Jacky here probably doesn’t remember you; poor boy doesn’t even remember his own name half the time.”

Jack flips off Mason, but he keeps talking. “These are the lads that make up Her Majesty’s Men. We’re all football-academy rejects, so it’s like a family since we all know what the other’s been through. Stonesy - you’ll meet him in a bit - kinda brought us all together. It was pretty much his idea.”

Declan looks around the room, realizing where he is. The room looks like a changing room except instead of kits and boots and training gear, there’s costumes everywhere. A ratty futon that’s seen better days is against one of the walls; Jack ‘Jacky Boy’ Grealish sits on it, and something about the way he’s sitting on it tells Declan that the futon isn’t for anyone but the ex-Villa Academy player.

“Right. Anyway, this is Happy Ending Harry. Gave his youth to Tottenham, but she was a cruel mistress.” There’s a mirror with lightbulbs around it that looks like it was either stolen from Marilyn Monroe or a fifteen-year-old girl, Declan isn’t sure which. Harry Winks sits in front of the mirror, checking out his reflection as he puts on...blush? Declan wants to ask but can’t bring himself to form the words. Harry’s too lost in his own world to do much of anything, almost resembling a Ken doll in a way that both intrigues and intimidates Declan.

“Big Dick Dier. Loaned from Portugal to Everton, but you can see how that turned out. Man can speak at least two languages but there’s not a woman out there who cares about that once they catch a glimpse of what the Big Man is packing.” Eric Dier picks himself up off the floor after doing a round of push-ups, giving Declan a nod in greeting and going back to the sewing machine to work on… a g-string? Declan’s a little disgusted but he’s glad he’s not the one handling that. The man’s wide shoulders and large hands radiate Big Dick Energy and Declan would be lying to himself if he wasn’t at least a little curious to take a peek at that pecker.

“Last but not least: Tarzan Ty.” A man with dreads stands in one corner, stretching. He’s got tattoos and a massive scar on his knee that Declan’s curious about but knows better than to ask about. He looks familiar but he’s definitively older than the rest of the lads Declan has met so he’s not sure he recognizes him from any sort of training academy. Mason starts his introduction, but Ty cuts him off.

“Tyrone Mings,” he says, introducing himself for Declan. “Southampton Youth ‘til oh-nine. They let me go ‘cause I was too short - joke’s on them.” Ty laughs and Declan joins in. “Got a serious question,” he continues, shoving his non-scarred knee in Declan’s face. “That look ashy to you?”

“Uh…”

“Here,” Mason giggles, tossing him a bottle of what looks like self-tanner but Declan doesn’t question it, squirting out some of the lotion and preparing to massage it into Ty’s knee. It’s the oddest thing he’s done since being let go, but Declan just tells himself that he’s rubbed weirder substances on his own joints. He realizes that Mason was right - this place, this group of ex-footballers, really does feel like a family. He’s only been here a few minutes but already the camaraderie is there. Big Dick Dier teases Happy Ending Harry’s appearance like the two of them were teammates at Tottenham or something; Tarzan Ty has what appears to be a ritual, shoving Declan’s hands off his knee once he realizes the new boy was actually going to do it.

“So, here’s how it works. We do a group act first, then solos, followed by hot seats. If everything goes well, we get these birds all jacked up and then we raise the price of the hot seats so don’t fuck it all up for us, all right? That’s it, that’s all ya gotta do.” Declan tries to focus on what Mason is saying but it’s damn near impossible as he watches Eric stick his dick inside of the contraption and start to pump, his cock stretching to an absurd length. He quickly realizes that Eric’s got his dick inside a penis pump, watching as the big man’s already-big cock grows like the Grinch’s heart. Eric’s sporting the most insane look, his jaw slack but his eyes intense like he’s focused on something else, taking deep breaths as his cock stretches longer.

A voice entering the room cuts Mason off, the DJ coming into view. He’s speaking, but Declan can’t understand him. “This is Kyle, our DJ. Kyle, Deccers; Deccers, Kyle. He’s gonna be giving you the cue before each act.” Kyle hands Mase a water bottle filled with something and Mason’s eyes light up. “Pregame! That’s what I’m talking about!”

“It’s the love potion,” Kyle says in a weird voice, giving Declan a wide-eyed look.

“What is this? Strawberry?” Mason inspects it, pouring some of it into the cap and downing it.

“It’s a little mixture,” Kyle explains at Declan’s confused expression. “Got the recipe from a friend in Miami. He calls it Hey Juice.” Declan’s been around enough drugs to know that it’s GHB, but he keeps his mouth shut. “If you drink the whole bottle you’ll go ‘Hey!’” He flamboyantly sways and snaps his fingers. “You’re gonna like it, bro. Give it a sample.”

Declan holds up his hands, taking a step back. “I’m good, mate. Maybe tomorrow night?”

“That’s cool. More for me, I guess.” Mason shrugs, downing another cap.

The sounds of the crowd cheering start to seep through the walls, a man’s voice coming through too. “All right, all right, all right!”

“That’s Stonesy. Let’s get you ready.”

<< >>

[leaderintitleonly]

Anonymous asked:

Pics or the new decorations don't actually exist

Oh, oh really? Well then! We did a photoshoot! Cut for those uninterested in holiday cheer loud enough for all to hear! Z-snap for all of my elfies.

Oh and that’s not the only box. Snow White came in, too. But I was trying to get this headache to stop kicking me and my stomach to shut up. But here’s the boys. I’ve never owned Department 56 stuff before and...here they are. Ignore my sandal. It was still in the 70s not too long ago and I have to put my summer stuff away.

Bonus of His Royal Boxness, angry that I dared to move his box fort. He loves Christmas. Boxes. A tree to hide under? Holy crap it’s like the best time of the year.

She’s so pretty. She’s just. So pretty. Her dress needed a little fluffing and fixing but she’s so pretty and her kitten heels are visible under the dress. It’s perfection.

Here comes the booooooy...! Hello boy. Welcome...! He is here! With his bass bass bass bass bass!

Sleepy in direct sunlight because we live to torture the narcoleptic dwarf. He’s sleeping on Santa’s sack. The detailing is cute. The sack has little details and his clarinet is movie accurate.

And look at this absolute angel. He...does not stand up very well. The cymbal causes him to tilt so you have to play with his tunic a little but he is just so cute.

We have some more decorations we can add like a mini tree and some lights, but for right now this is how it’s shaking, bacon. Somehow Happy has stolen Sneezy’s swanette (tf is a swanette even) and Grumpy is very Grinch-like with all this noise, noise, noise noise. Cute set. Good luck if you manage to find one. Personally, I’m in love and I’m just happy to have it.

[batfam-redrobin-yummm]

Batfamily Thanksgiving

Everyone comes to the manor. and I mean EVERYONE. It doesn’t matter what terms you’re on with everyone you fucking show up or Alfred will show up where ever you are and drag you home by the ear

Alfred has everyone pitch in for at least 1 thing to make sure enough gets made for everyone.

Dick will swing around from everything and literally hang off of the people who he hasn’t seen much.

Jason gets in an argument with the family one year and hasn’t seen anyone in months. When everyone wakes up he’s already been dragged home by Alfred and is helping in the kitchen.

Dick literally climbs him like a koala and won’t let go. Jason is forced to stay the night when Dick falls asleep but his iron grip still won’t let go.

Tim isn’t allowed any technology. None. because he will find something to work on and it’s forbidden that he works at all on holidays.

Tim will always find a price of technology and has to be brided away from it with coffee until Alfred takes it.

Everyone gets up early to help cook except for Tim. He’s always exhausted from trying to get work done the day before. When he finally stumbles into the kitchen in the morning he drinks straight from the coffee pot and only helps with small things like cranberry sauce.

god know Tim’s a menace in the Kitchen and is trusted with literally nothing important.

Damian agrees to not fight with anyone but decides to call everyone by their first name. To him he’s truly being affectionate but if anyone asks he says he’s trying to spook everyone. He also calls Bruce dad all day.

It spoils everyone for a bit but after the second time he uses their name they realize what he’s doing. Even Tim and Jason think it’s cute. Duke is the only one who doesn’t realize and continuously gets concerned.

Duke regrets showing up every year. He loves everyone but he’s terrified of grabbing food.

Duke is terrified of grabbing food because he’s watched people stab each other over the mashed potatoes one too many times.

It’s a known rule that if you finishing off one of the dishes you have to be ready to fight for it. If you’re caught unaware it’s going to be stolen from you or you’re going to receive a fork to the arm.

Cassandra is the most polite of everyone and everyone makes sure that someone is always watching her. Not in a wary way but to make sure that when she signs something she’s heard. Dami takes a liking to having her around and almost always watches her and repeats what she says.

Damian just fucking screams at the table for people to stop talking so he can make sure EVERYONE saw what Cassandra said.

Stephanie makes a habit of not grabbing food from the serving trays because she doesn’t want to get stabbed. and instead sits between Cassandra and Bruce most times and silently steals from their plates. Eventually they catch on and put food on her plate for her.

Tim’s known for having two thanksgiving moods. He’s either so exhausted he falls asleep in mashed potatoes, or he’s had so much coffee that he’ll start a roast war with everyone. The only person he’ll lose to is Babs but even full of spite he won’t try her.

The family learned if Tim is super tired he’ll just eat till there’s nothing in his plate. Jason Dick and Duke use this as an opportunity to make sure he’s really eating enough. They keep putting food on his plate and he’ll keep eating it because he’s to tired to notice. He won’t stop until they stop giving him food and his plate is empty.

Bruce is just happy to have all his family around. Like the grinch his heart browns 3 times in size when he sees everyone around the table. He makes sure to awkwardly hug everyone even if on the streets they try killing each other (*cough jason*)

He secretly gives everyone affectionate looks when he thinks nobody sees.

they all see

It’s the one time that he’ll actively pull each of his kids to the side and tell them how much he cares. This has lead to many tears from both him and his kids. They all have an agreement that they never talk about it afterwards but they all love it.

sometime selina will drop in just for fun.

overall someone always gets stabbed with a fork but they all love thanksgiving together. and then the next day they’re back at each others throats (*cough bruce jason tim and dami*)

[unis-trash-stash]

Snowy Day (A quick R6 Siegemas Fic)

Word Count: 475 words (yeah it’s really short)

Characters: Sledge, Blitz, and Dokkaebi

————————————————————————————

Before Dokkaebi could even open her eyes enough to understand what was going on, she was being yanked out of bed by two grown men.

“Grace, get up, it’s snowing,” she heard the familiar German accent of her friend, Blitz. “We’re gonna go build a snowman.”

Grace managed to lift her head up, realizing she was being dragged across the floor to her closet. Blitz had one leg, while her other best friend, Sledge, had his hands on the other. Finally kicking her way out of their grasp, and standing up, the Korean woman wiped strands of hair away from her face.

“Don’t you two have anything better to do than go build snowmen like children?” She grumbled under her breath.

“Not exactly. We’ve got the day off,” The Scotsman spoke up this time. “Come on, Miss Grinch. You better not ruin his fun.” Sledge gestured to Blitz

Any slight glance of hesitation earned a pout from the men. I’m friends with literal idiots, Grace thought to herself.

“Get out, both of you. I’ll get dressed, we’ll build a snowman, and then you two better let me go back to sleep, or I’ll make sure Thatcher kicks both of your asses.”

After Dokkaebi had thrown on her only winter coat and glasses, she finally opened the door to once again be greeted by the 2 man-children she called her best friends. Blitz seemed a lot more excited about this than Sledge has. It appears that Seamus was dragged into this as well.

When they got outside, Dokkaebi immediately felt like her nose was going to fall off. Holy hell, it was freezing. Somehow, neither Blitz nor Sledge appeared to have a problem with the cold as they both trudged into the feet of snow, already getting to work on their snowman. How they could handle the freezing temperatures outside, Grace had no idea. But, finally, she pulled herself together and trudged out into the snow to help the men with their work.

It took much longer than any of them had expected. Hours of continuously pushing around snow to form whatever sort of body you could call the abomination lying before them. The only part slightly resembling a face was the carrot nose that Sledge apparently had stolen from the SAS’s kitchen earlier that morning.

“I mean, it’s the thought that counts, I guess?” Blitz shrugged a little, forcing an awkward smile. A moment of silence, and the trio broke out into laughter. Yeah, it really WAS the thought that counts.

“You guys are really idiots, but you’re my idiots,” Dokkaebi pulled Blitz and Sledge into a nice hug, all three of them admiring their “masterpiece.”

The moment was broken by Sledge’s small quip.

“Let’s just hope Thatcher doesn’t realize there’s a carrot missing from the fridge.”

The trio broke out into laughter once again.

[chillassimagines]

The Grinch - Derek Hale Smut

(REQUESTED)

“Put those lights above the door, please!” You shouted over the music at your boyfriend, Derek. He looked at the lights you pointed at and sighed.

“Those don’t even match the others, Y/N!” He spoke loudly over the noise. You rolled your eyes and reached over to the speaker and turned your Christmas playlist down.

“Derek, the door has its own decorations that will match.” You gestured to the box next to the lights which contained the door decor you purchased. Derek didn’t say another word, he just picked up the lights and went over to the door with some clear tape. You turned your stereo up, but not as loud as before, then turned your attention back to the little Christmas figurine village you were setting up on your tv’s entertainment stand. Out of the corner of your eye you noticed that Lydia was calling you.

“Y/N, do you wanna make Christmas cookies with me tonight? We’ll probably eat them all at a future sleepover with cocoa and Christmas movies, but that’s besides the point-“

“I totally would Lyds, but I’m doing decorations the rest of the night with Derek,” All of a sudden your lover yelled a terrible roar. You damn near dropped your phone as you turned to see what happened. Half the lights were above the door and the other half was swinging, looking as if they had just come out of place. “...and that may have to stop, I’ll call you later, Lyds.” You hung up the phone and stared at Derek’s back for a second. “Babe-”

“What the hell am I doing all of this for anyway? We’re not five years old anymore, Y/N. We can move past all this childish waste of time and money!” Derek proceeded to rip the remaining lights off of the wall. You rushed to his side and picked up the lights.

“Derek, don’t be a Grinch-”

“If you call me the Grinch one more time, Y/N...” Derek closed his eyes as his nostrils flared in anger. You tossed the lights on the couch and reached out to touch Derek’s arm.

“Okay, I’m sorry about that, but Derek, you said you would help me put these up. I don’t want you feeling upset for the whole month of December. I thought you’d like that we were doing this together, yanno?” Derek’s eyes opened and you almost sighed in relief at not having to be faced with his alpha eyes.

“We could be doing millions of other things together that aren’t completely pointless.” He grumbled, staring at you with no compassion. You bit the inside of your cheek, but you couldn’t bite back your words.

“At my grandmas we would go and help her put up decorations every year. This year, the year I’ve decided to spend Christmas with you, I’m not doing that. I wanted to do it with you, maybe start a fucking life together or something?” You drew your hand away from his skin and picked up a little figurine. You looked at it for a millisecond before launching it into the wall, creating a hole. “Waste of time and money! Just fucking destroy it then, won’t matter.” You stormed over to the previously discarded lights and tossed them on the floor to stomp on them.

“Y/N, stop.” Derek’s hand grabbed your elbow and you turned to him, resisting to swing at him.

“So what? You get to be angry whenever and I just get to hold my shit together?” You asked with a raised eyebrow, challenging him. He paused before sighing and running his hand through his hair.

“No...I just, damn Y/N. You’re too much like me.” He mumbled the last part, but you heard him loud and clear. You rolled your eyes and grabbed his large hands in yours.

“I don’t wanna fight right now. This holiday is meant to be about sharing happy times together. I don’t wanna remember our first Christmas experience together as me fighting to give you the same joy I experience around this time. Please try and share good memories with me?” You looked into his eyes without using your puppy eyes, though you were tempted.

“Yes.” Derek eyes shifted quickly. You furrowed your eyebrows.

“Yes? Okay, yeah, cool. Easier than I thought, but not complaining-” He interrupted your rambling by ravaging your lips with his. You nearly stumbled back, but his hands slipped around you to pull you to him. Your hands found his shoulders on instinct and let his kissing consume you.

“We’re gonna make a damn good memory, Y/N.” Derek broke from your lips to say and he lifted you up over his shoulder. “Ho ho fucking ho, baby.” You could barely register what was going on, but his last line made you giggle. He responded with a slap to your ass as he carried you upstairs to his bedroom.

“Derek!” You scolded his smacking habit and could picture the smirk on his face. He tossed you onto the bed like a rag doll and stripped himself of his shirt and sweats. You almost yelled again at being man handled, but the sight you received could have made it worth it. He literally ripped your Christmas pj’s off of you after though. “I’m going to kill you, Hale!” You shouted in shock. He grabbed your ankles and yanked you down the bed. He discarded your panties, thankfully actually knowing better, and immediately placed his tongue along your pussy.

“Memories.” He whispered while looking in your eyes before wrapping his warm lips around your clit. Your mouth fell open while watching his movements. His thumbs spread your lips apart so he could continue his torturous process by kitten licking your bundle of nerves.

“Oh god.” You whimpered and threw your head back. You hips began to buck up into his mouth which he wouldn’t accept.

“You wanna move, huh?” He parted his sweet lips from your heat and sat on the bed. He picked you up and placed your heat right on his muscular thigh. “Then fuckin move.” Your mind ran blank for a good 30 seconds, not comprehending the position shift and the pleasure that was stolen from you so quickly. He placed his hands on your waist and dug his fingers almost painfully into your skin. “I won’t say it again.”

You placed your hands on his shoulders and began grinding your slick core against his thigh. You didn’t know you could love the friction it provided.

“Oh shit, this feels good, Derek.” You leaned your head down and Derek placed his lips against your forehead.

“I bet it does, princess. You gonna be able to cum on my leg?” He asked huskily and his voice alone made you more wet. You nodded vigorously.

“Oh yes. Just-just keep talking to me.” His hands moved under your shirt to grip your breasts.

“Now how did I not know you liked dirty talking? You like me asking how my hands feel?” Both if Derek’s hands began rolling your nipples between his fingers.

“Mhmm. They feel so rough, so big. So-fuck!” He pinched the nipples harshly, making your hips stutter against his leg.

“Want me to fuck you like that?” You whimpered in response to his raw question. Your head fell down against his shoulder as you began grinding faster. “Answer me.” He pinched your nipples hard again, making you yelp and whimper in pleasure some more. You couldn’t bring yourself to respond as your orgasm was so close. Derek lifted his hips and pulled his rock hard length out of his boxers. You quickly sunk down on top of him before he stopped you.

“Cum, inside of me, please.” You begged between heavy pants as you began riding him. Derek’s jaw went slack as he watched your pussy take him raw.

“Don’t fucking worry, princess.” He fell back onto the bed from his sitting position and grasped your ass cheeks in his hands to move you faster than you ever could move onto his dick.

“Ugh, oh shit, I can’t! Slow, fuck fuck fuck!” You were fully aware of your screeching in his ear, but you couldn’t control it as your body uncontrollably convulsed on top of him.

“Say my name!” He growled and took one hand to your throat so you were forced to look into those big bright red eyes. Your eyes rolled back into your head at the overstimulation.

“Derek!” You cried in a broken voice. His hand released your throat and pressed your chest to his as he went rigid and came inside of you. You literally couldn’t move for a solid 5 minutes before he said anything.

“Good enough memory for you?” He whispered in your ear as his fingers ran through your hair.

“I’m not gonna be able to move off of you by myself, so yes.”

[tomorrowusa]

Just because Trump’s attempts to overturn the election are hilariously dumb does not mean they are not dangerous.

First, the coup attempt provides Trump with a narrative to sustain his next venture. In the decades-old Trumpian mythos, he never loses; every event must be categorized either as Trump winning or Trump being treated very unfairly.

Trump has certainly lost in the past but had been able to gloss over the fact.

His "reality" show The Apprentice is about a faux boss and faux underlings. People who watched this fakery without knowing Trump's past went away with the impression that he was some sort of brilliant businessman.

The reality is that Trump made repeatedly poor business decisions in real life. He has been behind a long series of failures of products such as Trump Vitamins, Trump University, and even Trump Ice.

Trump has filed for bankruptcy six times. Casinos are almost machines for making money yet Trump Hotels and Casinos Resorts, Trump Taj Mahal, and Trump Plaza Casinos were high profile flops due to his mismanagement.

All his life he has been bailed out by inherited wealth and questionable legal tactics. The Apprentice was a smokescreen designed to make people forget what a loser Trump has been. Now Trump is the high profile LOSER of the 2020 election.

The people who bought into the phony The Apprentice persona of Trump find it inconceivable that their hero could possibly lose. So Trump can bank on that crowd to continue to buy the unfounded bullshit that he excretes.

Second, the stolen-election narrative helpfully motivates the right to despise Biden.

Joe Biden is not Hillary Clinton. Even if you disapprove of his politics he is not easy to dislike personally. By demonizing Biden as the grinch who stole the election, Trump intentionally makes it difficult for Republicans to cooperate with the president-elect.

Trump tries to fire up hatred against Joe Biden; this can incentivize anti-government violence and domestic terrorism like the 1995 Oklahoma City bombing.

Third, and most dangerously, it gives Trump a pretext for withholding cooperation from the incoming Biden administration. Trump’s order forbidding all federal officials from cooperating with the normal transition planning has been felt most keenly in the pandemic response.

The narcissistic Trump never cared about the public health disaster caused by his incompetent and egotistical handling of the COVID-19 pandemic. 255,000 Americans have died of the virus and the number could easily reach 300,000 by Inauguration Day. Trump would rather let people suffer and die than have even low ranking members of his administration cooperate with the incoming Biden administration on matters relating to pandemic response.

Trump's refusal to cooperate in the area of intelligence is a danger to national security. By forbidding intelligence officers from giving briefings to Biden, Trump keeps the president-elect from being up to date on active dangers to the United States. Biden's only access to any such information may be through Vice President-elect Kamala Harris who gets limited briefings as a member of both the Senate Homeland Security and Governmental Affairs Committee and the Select Committee on Intelligence.