Hello all! :D

Happy freakin' holidays! Welcome to my celebratory series. I think the title is pretty self-explanatory. We got a lot of prompts to get through, so let's get on with that jolly goodness!

Prompt 1:

Etherial Otherworldly

Helen x Spandel

Helen looked down.

It had been a long, emotional week for them both. Not just Spandel, but for her as well. The upcoming holidays had brought about a bout of heady and laden emotion for the pair. For Helen it had been refreshing. Dramatic, but refreshing. Like a tiger being set free from captivity, it was new, scary, and all consuming. It was but three days ago that she was standing on the front deck of their cozy home, ruby eyes glued to the darkened sky. Snow had been pouring from it in an elegant manner, only adding to the blankets of white that coated the area. Spandel's gloved hand had been holding hers, squeezing and loosening with uncertainty as the two watched their neighborhood come to life under winter's embrace. Helen remembered feeling a sense of freeness unknown to her as the revelation that she was no longer a devil in her sister's body rained on her, like snow. It was enough to drag tears from her large red pools. She could reminisce on how she just collapsed into Spandel's arms, face shielded in his scarf as she burst into tears and sobbed out her feelings with her heart on her sleeve. And he had held her there, in his arms and against his firm chest like his little princess. Just as he always did. She had felt good though. Wedged and warm in his embrace despite the cold temperature, face nestled in his neck, legs wrapped around his hips while the nippy air blew his cloak around them.

It had all felt good.

Spandel had been a different story however. The holidays tagged with them a spiral of emotions that left him a mess of disorientation and confusion. He had stumbled a lot, his head in a daze as he was forced to revisit the pain of his past. He'd burst into crying fits, spasm, curl up, hide. There were times when he didn't want to leave the bed. The agony in his beating chest left him panting, whispering, begging, imploring. It was a mess no doubt, a tangled one at that. He was lost in a whirlpool, fighting to swim through even though the exit nor entrance weren't anywhere in sight. Breakdowns at work had him humiliated, wich strengthened the emotional meter more than what anyone was comfortable with. And yet, Spandel never so much as teared up around the children. Helen could write an essay on what a great father he was, but the only thing she wanted was to mitigate his suffering.

"Helen did you here me?"

Helen almost jumped, forgetting that she was on the phone with Pandore. "Yeah, what'd you say?" She stammered , jolting back to reality.

'Are you and Spandel okay to come to Damian's house Christmas morning?" Pandore repeated, all her words pointed but drawling into one another. The true mark of an exhausted woman. Helen could imagine Lucy and Angel ran her around all day.

"Yeah, that's fine." Helen confirmed, involuntarily looking over at Spandel. The older was slumped in his chair, arms crossed on his computer's keyboard and his drowsy face buried within them. It was unhealthy, but Spandel had tried to avert his mind from the pain with work. It must've worked, as Helen could prance into his study on insanely late nights like these, and find him half asleep at his computer. Music would spout from his headphones, and the curtains would be drawn to show the garden out the window. It was therapeutic for him, and it insured a hefty paycheck for the next several months.

But it wasn't good.

Spandel was working himself to a frazzle, which contributed naught to his incessant insomnia. Helen didn't realize Pandore had hung up. She dropped her phone to the desk as she approached Spandel. She shook his shoulder. "Hey, Baby, wake up. You can't sleep here." She muttered. She would've liked to carry him, but Spandel was much too big for her. An entire foot and six inches taller. Spandel moaned pejoratively,

"C'mon, Angel, you can't sleep here." Helen urged, tugging harder on his shoulder. She was made guilty at the sleepy glare he gave her. She chuckled fondly, bringing her fingers to her lips. "You are sooo bad at looking grumpy, Kitty." She laughed. Spandel only hmphed.

"Come on!" Helen pulled at his shoulder.

"I should shower." Spandel mumbled, eyes rolling back and forth. His brain was only half working. He wasn't properly processing what Helen was saying, mind trapped in a groggy billow so her words wandered in and got lost somewhere. He did know what she wanted though, and he was in no hurry to go to sleep.

"You've showered twice today already." Helen stated.

Spandel's answer was delayed ten seconds. "Wha?" He questioned.

"Just come to bed." Helen sighed.

"Are Alvis in Sparrow in bed?" Spandel quizzed.

"Yes yes." Helen blew.

She had to fight him a little more on it, but she did manage to get him to their bedroom. Spandel's mind was so clouded and dizzy. He could barely stand. And Helen could only hold his hand and lean him against the wall for support.

"Ghh, you're such a big boy." Helen choked, heaving her husband onto their shared bed.

Another delayed answer. "I am not big, but tis you the tiny one." He murmured, words a little slurred.

"Get on your back for me Hun." Helen instructed. Spandel did as was told. In one languid roll he was on his back, one arm tucked behind his head and brown eyes closed. He hummed, a startled and dramatic flinch accompanying it when he felt Helen begin untying the laces of his sleek black boots. Helen was sitting on her bed beside him. "It's just me. You're not sleeping in your clothes." She soothed once feeling him move. She slid both boots off, setting them beside the bed. She crawled up to unfasten the silver loops holding his cloak in place. Spandel inaudibly sighed when the cloak's fabric fell from his shoulders. Helen dropped the cloak to the ground, now sliding the silver chains and bangles from his waist, ankles, and wrists. She put those on the nightstand.

"You have way too many accessories." She commented, pulling off Spandel's black fingerless gloves.

"Nn." Spandel mused. He wasn't paying attention, rather drifting off to sleep. Helen smiled, now undoing the clasps of his black shirt. She pulled it off and dropped it by the bed, giving his pants the same treatment. Now all that was left were his undergarments. The weird but wonderful Awromian ones. She decided to leave him with his sheer, nearly translucent black pants. But for the sake of his comfort ability, she'd remove the matching chiffon shirt. She reached to bunch the light fabric in her fingers, but Spandel's hand snapping around her wrist brought her to an abrupt stop.

"What, what is it?" She gasped, eyes floating over to his face. Large, chocolate eyes were peering back at her. He blinked in bleary fashion, brown eyes glazed over. "Don't." He muttered, "Don't look."

"Why not?" Helen exhaled in exasperation.

"I, just don't." He commented.

"Sweetheart, what are you thinking about?" Helen wondered. She tried to move her hand, but Spandel only tightened his grip on her wrist. At this point, Helen was half sure he was locked in a negative thought or memory. It made sense, but he could just be feeling depressed. Or it could be more serious, like a flashback.

"I ... I am an abhorrent sight to behold. Please.. please don't."

Helen's face softened at the pleading whimper. She reached a hand out, cupping his cheek and caressing a thumb over his soft skin. Spandel's bottom lip went out in that signature pout, and Helen wanted nothing more than to kiss that rosebud mouth of his and hope it alleviated all his pain. And so she did. Their lips molded together. Spandel wasn't truly there in that moment, his body reacting more than his mind ever would. His eyes fell close, a modest moan slipping into Helen's mouth as he trailed a hand up and down her back. Helen pulled back, straddling his hips and looking down at him. She fiddled with the ends of his shirt. "Hun? I have something important to say. Will you listen?"

"Of course." Spandel rasped. Unwillingly, he forced his eyes open to regard Helen.

"You are very beautiful you know?" She exhaled, "It's really saddening that you can't see it."

Spandel made a little warbling noise of protest, something between a hum and a whine.

"Well, it's true." She chuckled, "Your beauty shines inside and out, but you've always been blind to it. You've got the face of a prince and an attractive body. It's otherworldly. Everybody knows this. I know what's keeping you from seeing it though. Your uncle has told you awful things for seven years, and it's hard to break out of that mindset." She grabbed and squeezed his hand. "But I'm gonna fix it." She declared, "You also hate your scars. You don't really see the things that we do. When you look at them, you see pain. Every scar, every bruise, every puncture, every burn. It brings you back. You see your past, you see your mistakes, you see your struggles. Each time you were whipped, stabbed, cut, lacerated, punched, thrown, burned, chained, and dying. It's all there, mapped out on your own perfect body. And I know, that must hurt just as much. It sucks." Spandel was definitely awake now. He spasmed underneath her, his breathing ragged and unsteady. He shut his eyes, shoving back the tears that desperately wanted to fall.

Helen hated to see him like that, but she had to proceed. She had to get her point across. "Whenever you look at yourself, you see a boy who didn't get enough sunlight cause his uncle locked him away." She declaimed, "You see a boy too slender because his uncle starved him to death. You see a boy too afraid to ask for help. You see a boy who wasn't strong enough to protect himself from his uncle. You see a boy who wasn't strong enough to stop it. A boy who wasn't strong enough to raise his baby brother. A boy who.." She swallowed hard over the lump in her throat, not wanting to say the next thing she had in mind. She took a deep breath, settling her hand on his sternum. His chest undulated in an unhealthy manner, pressing against her palm and then dramatically subduing. His lightning ridge black opal nearly burned her skin. She could see its profound glow through the chiffon of his shirt. "You see a boy who," She started. Another deep breath. "Who was too weak to save his friends." She finished.

That did it.

Spandel broke into sobs. Hard, choking, heartbreaking sobs. Tears cracked through his thick eyelashes with ease, contriving waterfalls as they ran down his cheeks and slid off his jaw. He turned, shielding his face in the pillow. His pants were intermittent, countless sniffles accompanied them. His entire body jerked and swayed.

Helen sighed and continued. "If I were like you Spandel Adrien Phillips, one of the most beautiful people in the world with that kinda past, I would think I was ugly and disgusting too. But you're not. You're beautiful, so freakin' beautiful. People think you're a great guy with a fun personality. Good start for someone who's been through so much." She tried a smile, "For the people who know you, we think you're amazing. We love you. When I see your wounds, when Sparrow and Alvis get a glimpse of them, when Pandore and Damian see them, Bryson, Jasper, Raphael, Annie, everybody who cares about you! Well, we see the truth. We see, the opposite of what you see. We see a man who struggled. A man who survived. Who was strong enough to carry on. Strong enough to take the pain. Who was wise enough to keep a piece of himself. Wise enough to run away. Pure enough to stay sweet. Sweet enough to put others first. Positive enough to keep smiling. Smiling enough to make a change. Changing enough to have a family. Familiar enough to feel fear. Fearing because you care. Caring because you love. Loving because you're brave, so, so brave. So, so loving and brave. When we see you, we see the impossible. A boy who should've died, is one of the best men to exist."

"... ... thank you ... Helen..."

his voice was soft. Trembling, quavering, but grateful and understanding. Helen pulled on a few strands of his hair, twirling the raven locks in between her fingers. An endearing smile cut through her lips. "May I take this shirt from you now, My Etherial Prince?"

Spandel rolled completely on his back and tucked his arms behind his head, "Sure."

Helen heaved the shirt from his body. Her smile widened as she inspected his torso, hands roaming over the planes of his chest. Her fingertips brushed over his sensitive skin, and he gave a pleasant shutter at her touch. Helen got an idea. She plopped down beside him, grasping the hem of his pants.

"What are you doing?" Spandel asked, fixing her with a dull look.

"It's been a while, hasn't it?" Helen answered, "Since you've been down, I figured I might show you how much I love you. I'll let love be the other half of your medicine."

"Oh well," Spandel put on a lascivious smirk, "I know you love me Helen. I too, harbor unbreakable ardor toward you Dearest. However, if that's the road you wish to travel to express it tonight," his hand wandered up her flank, resting on her shoulder. "Then I can get behind that." He finished on a baritone purr.

"All right then." Helen murmured. She leaned down, peppering kisses over the smooth column of his neck. Spandel helped her from her close as she spoiled his neck and chest. She returned the favor, divesting Spandel of his pants.

It was different than usual. Helen put all her energy into making Spandel feel like he was the most important person in the world. It wasn't as fun, or corybantic as usual. Simply pensive and romantic. Helen's praising ministrations and whispers of love and devotion. The soft whines, sultry moans, and little gasps Spandel managed to spring from her. He was different, too. Slow, a bit unsure and nervous. He was the vulnerable one. The one whom so prettily came undone. Helen would cherish that he trusted her enough to unravel. His shivers, the red that bloomed to his cheeks when she pampered his scars, and those lovely, untimely moans. She'd cherish them all.

"I signed us up to go to Damian's house for Christmas morning." Helen muttered, pressing a kiss to his chest. It was over now. The two were winding down. She was entangled in his arms, listening to his settling breaths until she decided to bring it up.

"Understood." Spandel affirmed.

"Pandore's pregnant." Helen informed, as though Spandel didn't already know.

"Yes." Spandel replied, "And What, My Darling, has brought this up? Could it be that it is still hard for you to believe?"

"No!" Helen exclaimed, "Spandel, she has a bigger bust than me!"

Spandel couldn't help it. He gradually rolled his eyes behind dark bangs. "Helen, I fail to see the value in this transpiration." He deadpanned.

"I'm usually the one with the bigger bust." Helen lamented.

"Does it matter?" Spandel queried.

"Of course it does!" Helen proclaimed.

"Why?"

"Because I'm the more seductive of the two of us!"

"Mmm. Okay. So from my understanding, you're upset, because your sister's breasts have swelled with milk for her unborn, and that somehow lessons your sex appeal?"

"You make it sound so stupid." Helen groaned, dropping her forehead against his chest.

"You females are so silly with chest sizes." Spandel chortled, "I bethink myself of a moment, quite some time ago, when I found myself in Raven's room with Emily and Vanemy. I was in an intoxicated haze, lying amidst the covers while the girls took care of me. They had been plenty drunk themselves, but they weren't so foolish as to drink a ton so they could watch me. But their conversation landed on breast size. Both Vanemy and Emily were mewling in disappointment as they compared their bust sizes to Raven. The scene became rather surreal afterword. And yet, I find joy in the memory. Still, I understand naught of their distress."

"A bigger bust is just better." Helen huffed, "You'd have to be a woman to understand." She glanced up at him, "You're a guy. Don't you have a preference for bigger busts?"

"I care not for the breast size of a woman, so long as they are big enough for me to play with, and small enough for me to control." Spandel explained. A subconscious hand had come up to massage her chest, conveniently emphatic to his words.

"You are such a pervert." Helen laughed, feeling a light squeeze to her breast.

"'Tis you who posed the question." Spandel defended. The pair shared a guffaw. Spandel brung Helen closer to his bare body. Helen obliged, snuggling away what distance was between them and wrapping her limbs around him.

Spandel started purring, nuzzling into the pillows.

"And you, My Sweet Helen, are beautiful too."

All right Loves! That's prompt 1 out of the way. Thanks for reading!

Pandore, My Awesome Angel, consider this one of my little Christnas gifts to you. Thanks for lending me Helen. I hope you enjoyed this. :)

Let's all take time to marvel at the AMAZING cover artwork. My sister made the entire thing. It is beautiful and marvelous. Thank you soooooo much!

That's all for now. :)

Leave a review ... and remember that feednsck is love! ;)