FYODOR HEAD CANONS / REQUESTS

Merry Christmas

"Alrighty baby. You ready to put the star on the tree?" I asked sweetly. I held our precious little boy in my arms, lifting him high enough to reach the top of the Christmas tree.

"I do not think he can reach, Milaya. Perhaps I should lift him instead, no?" Fyodor suggested, reaching for our 4 year old.

With a slight chuckle, i let him take our son from my arms. My cheeks hurt with how wide I was smiling as I watching him lift Sasha up even higher, allowing him to put the star on.

"Momma look!" Sasha squealed excitedly. If I could capture this moment with something more than just my memory, I would. But there was no recording that would ever be able to save the warmth and purity that swarmed inside my soul.

"Isn't it pretty?" I grinned.

Sasha nodded eagerly as Fyodor set him down. The boy quickly ran to the presents under the tree, grabbing one with a look of hope on his little face.

I'd be lying if I said Fyodor and I didn't go a little overboard. There were piles upon piles of gifts under the tree, and all but a few of them were for Sasha. Nikolai, Klaus and Ivan were equally as generous when it came to spoiling our son. He didn't just have us two as his parents - he had three other people that would cherish him to the ends of the earth as well.

"You may open one gift, Sasha. The rest must wait until tomorrow. Your uncles would like to see you open their gifts on Christmas Day," Fyodors tone was strict, but still kind. He wanted to get the message across without offending the boy - a thing he had become very good at. Truth be told, Fyodor was a remarkable father. He stepped right up to the plate, and did so with a smile. As much as he feared having a child, he almost seemed like he was meant to be a dad.

Sasha took his time picking which present he wanted to open. It was no surprise when he ended up choosing the biggest one, dragging it across the floor into the open space in the living room. His eyes lit up with joy and the resemblance of his father. There's no way you could tell Sasha was my son, but oh man, he was a spitting image of Fyodor.

"Go ahead, darling," I gestured for him to begin unwrapping.

The Russian chuckled as Sasha tore the paper off with as much might as his little arms could muster. When some pieces of tape were a bit too strong, Fyodor was quick to help him tear them off. My knees dug into the carpet as I sat in front of him, waiting patiently. I knew what the present was, and I was just as excited for Sasha to receive it as he was.

Our boys eyes grew wide once he recognized the box. He flashed a toothy grin, glancing between Fyodor and I.

"No way! You got me a violin?" He exclaimed happily. I could practically see him jumping out of his own skin with glee.

Fyodor and I glanced at each other, covering our mouths as we giggled.

"Just open it," I gently urged, and Sasha didn't hesitate. He tore the box open, sliding the instruments case out. He unclipped the latches, and gently flipped the lid.

He squeaked with pure delight, scanning the violin with his eyes that begged to pop out of his head. They swept back and fourth until they landed on the one part Fyodor and I were most excited for.

"A dog collar?" Sasha asked, grabbing the leather item with furrowed brows. "Hey mom, there's no name on here. And no dog. I'm not complaining, but can I ask why?" He looked up at me hesitantly.

There were many things we tried to teach our child, but one of the biggest things we focused on was gratitude. We didn't want him to worship us or anything, but we didn't want him to end up like a spoiled brat either. And in this moment, I could tell all of our hard work paid off. And it made the next moments all the more precious.

"Huh? Where did dad go?" Sasha tilted his head, now realizing that Fyodor had wandered off somewhere.

"He will be right back, sweetheart," I explained softly, placing my hand on Sasha's cheek. I kissed his forehead, stroking his reddened face with my thumb. This was worth everything. All of the suffering as a child. All of the struggles and tribulation's Fyodor and I had faced. Everything we endured up until now was worth every little sliver. I wouldn't give this for the world, and I know beyond a shadow of a doubt that Fyodor would agree.

After a few moments of Sasha's whining as I smothered him in kisses, Fyodor finally came back into the living room. He walked backwards, carefully stepping around the couch.

"Poppa, your being silly!" Sasha giggled.

I could hear the Russian chuckle, blessing me with a grin as he passed me. He stopped right in front of Sasha, keeping his back to him.

"Alright, dear boy. Think of a name," Fyodor requested.

Sasha tiled his head, glancing at me as if I would give him the answer. I just shrugged, and flashed him a smile (one that made my face hurt even more).

"Uhh.. a boy or a girl name?" He questioned.

"A boy name," the Russian replied swiftly.

"Uh... max!" He yelled out with anticipation. 

With that, Fyodor turned around with a small Australian shepherd in his hands. It wiggled around as he gently set the puppy in Sasha's lap.

"Oh my god! Are you serious!?" Sasha's voice squeaked slightly as he picked the puppy up. He held it to his chest, and his eyes were watering as he looked to the two of us.

"You gotta take good care of him now, alright? Thats the deal if you want to keep him. You said you wanted to learn about responsibilities, and puppies are a great way to do that," I explained softly. I wasn't at all trying to scold him, I just wanted to make sure he knew what he was getting into before it was a done deal. He had been begging us for weeks to let him do stuff around the house, and telling us how he wanted to be a grown up. Obviously we can't let him do a whole lot, but this was something we could do.

Sasha nodded rapidly. "Yes momma. I understand. I promise I'll take good care of him!" He agreed quickly. He picked up the collar with a free hand, holding it out to Fyodor.

"Poppa, can you help me?" He asked sweetly.

"Of course, Sasha," the Russian nodded.

We spent the rest of the evening watching the puppy play, and run around. Needless to say, it was a Christmas Eve full of laughs and bright smiles. I loved my family. I loved Sasha, I loved Fyodor, and I loved my life. Finally, we had all found peace.