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smuttysabina · 4 months ago

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Hoe Hoe Hoes

(Aria & Celine & Tina x Santa Claus, 1.9K words) Tags: Yeah its Santa smut, what are you going to do about it; That's right, these three get their backs blown out by Ol' Saint Nicks' dick; Mostly normal sex; Enormous amounts of cum, A Christmas Miracle occurs, The trio save Christmas!

Twas the night before Christmas, and all through the house, not a creature was stirring, not even a mouse; except of course, for the gooners, cocks a-grip, pumping their meat for their favorite ship. But all was not well this Christmas Eve, for many their balls were as blue as the snow, furiously masturbating for their teasing, favorite hoes. A trio of streamers, fair Aria, Celine, and Tina, prancing around their kitchen, filling their fans with Yuletide cheer, yet never enough to bring their orgasms near. What a tragedy it would be then, for such a frosty mass to remain un-spilt, surely these slutty ladies should be wracked by guilt? But the Big Man was watching, his eyes a-smolder, for this was an issue he could not let molder; It was time to get down to business, on this very White Christmas...

The trio of girls are laughing tiredly when they turn off their stream, after an exhausting night cooking and playing with one another, they were ready to let off some steam! Aria was fanning her exposed cleavage, her face flushed from alcohol, her juicy thighs warm in the humid air of the room as she prances around in her mini-dress. Celine meanwhile was almost completely covered up in her onesie, though her own sizable bust was also on full display, even a shy girl likes to show off some times! And while her chest might have been tiny compared to the other two, Tina's outfit was as slutty as Aria's, highlighting her petite body's modest assets. Giggling and clutching at one another, they stagger happily into the living room to enjoy their festive decorations and relax by the fireplace. But something magical was in the air that night, for just as soon as they snuggled up, they heard something banging down their chimney. Which was somewhat problematic considering their fireplace was electric, and there was in fact, no chimney at all; and yet nonetheless out from the fireplace emerged the Big Man himself. The girls gasp in shock as the familiar red shape appears, Santa was here to deliver their presents! 'Santa!" the three squeak with delight, to which Santa gravely responds, "Hoe, hoe, hoe," he points at them, "You've been very naughty this year young ladies!"

The streamers gawp in horror, how could this be, they had been so kind and giving to their communities this year! Why, in their last stream they had done so much fanservice, surely their beloved viewers were satisfied by all of that memorable content? But Ol' Saint Nick (Lion of the Church, Defender of the Orthodoxy, Vanquisher of the Arian Heresy, Champion of Nicaea) was having none of their excuses, they had been spreading a noticeably un-holiday cheer this season, what good was a gorgeously wrapped present if there was nothing inside? Therefore, they were all on the naughty list! The trio wail in despair at this proclamation, surely there was something they could do to set things right? There was still time for them to save Christmas! The Jolly Man nods approvingly at their enthusiasm, that's just why he was here, to help them spread the true joy and love of Christmas! And so with a merry laugh, he pulls down his pants to reveal ten throbbing inches of holiday cheer. "Wow!" gasps Celine "Oh my god, Santa!" squeals Tina 'Why the fuck is Santa hung like reindeer?" groans Aria

The girls gather around Santa's Christmas Tree, nervous at the sheer size of it, but determined to get back on the good list no matter what; they owed it to their fans to end the year on a good note! Aria and Celine hesitantly unlimber their hefty breasts, kneeling around The Big Man, they glance at one another before squishing their tits around his shaft. Tina meanwhile puts the star on the tree, licking Santa's tip before straining her mouth to fit it inside, she sucks dutifully upon it with her arms around the other's waists. The busty pair rub their boobs up and down his shaft, falling into a synchronized rhythm, their faces flushing as their dual-tittyfuck starts to excite them as well. Aroused by their unusual situation, the girls are filled by the Holy Spirit, their pussies dripping as they throw away their inhibitions and get down to the serious business of naughtily decorating Santa's Christmas Tree with their sweaty pillows. Their tongues lolling excitedly, they croon and beg for it, while Tina moans encouragingly with her tongue hard at work slathering his cockhead with merriment. With a mighty groan Ol' Saint Nick gifts the girls some presents from his capacious sack, his load erupting into Tina's pretty mouth before it overflows and spews out over the other girl's chests and faces. Tina swallows frantically before gasping in disbelief, "It tastes like eggnog?"

But their penance is far from over, and the streamers lustfully bend over for Santa, stripping out of their festive outfits to show off their bodies more easily for him. Side-by-side with their butts pressed together, the girls eagerly look back as they await their infusions of holiday cheer; their cunts drooling down their thighs in anticipation. Father Christmas has a twinkle in his eye as he grasps Tina's tiny waist to hold her steady, his enormous sleigh pushing into her petite pussy; dashing deep into her snow. There must have been something magical in the air that night, because Tina's usually cramped cunt took every inch of Ol' Saint Nick's dick, her taut belly bulging with the evidence of a Christmas miracle! Her legs quiver as Santa plows her, stretching out her insides and filling her tummy with a warm love and goodwill. Tina is shuddering when Santa pulls out, and now it is Celine's turn to experience the joy of the Christmas Season. She groans as her stomach swells, her weighty breasts clapping together as they sway ponderously from his slow and steady thrusts; by the time Santa is finished with her, his north pole is slick with her frosting. Then it is on to Aria, who moans loudly as her stocking gets stuffed, her saggy tits flopping wildly around her chest as her guts get rearranged by the Big Man himself.

That Jolly Old Soul then spends some time switching between the streamers, sampling their holes and bringing them to the brink of ecstatic jubilation before moving on. After several rounds of this, it is Aria who breaks first. She begs for, her tongue sticking out and her eyes rolling, her hips bucking uncontrollably as she slams herself back against Santa, screeching for release. But Ol' Saint Nick is unfazed, his candy cane unyielding as her pussy spasms all around it, painting his sack with her own icing; only when she has finished does he. Aria wails with delight as her womb is flooded with sticky holiday cheer, collapsing onto the floor so that she is only being held up by the cock inside of her; she was now most definitely not on the naughty list anymore!

As Aria slides bonelessly off of the North Pole, Tina is right there to replace her, eagerly stepping forward with her arms behind her back, the very paragon of demureness. But Ol' Saint Nick is not fooled by her false innocence, and in a flash she is hoisted into the air, and then impaled upon his chimney. Tina carols loudly as her tiny pussy is once more stretched beyond normal capacity, every festive inch slipping inside of her until her lower lips are smearing Aria's leavings off of his fireplace. She clutches at his chest as she is lifted up and down his shaft, unable to do anything other than paint the floor with her love for Father Christmas. His mighty hands grip her petite butt tightly, and suddenly Tina's mind goes blank as the Spirit of Christmas fills her, his eggnog pouring within her until she feels as if she were about to burst. But when the slut was left sprawling on the floor, not a drop leaked out, a Yuletide surprise that left her tummy swollen with good tidings.

Celine was the last, and like a charitable girl she waited with her legs wide open, ready to give Father Christmas what she had denied to her fans for so long. She groans as her fertile body is squished beneath his awesome weight, but she merrily wraps her legs around him nonetheless as he enters her; she doesn't mind this sort of thing at all. Celine trembles as Santa Claus goes to town on her defenseless pussy, his balls jingling as the slap against her palpitating asshole, and soon a slick signal of her submission spreads down her crack. Her toes twitch in the air with every thrust, her sweet voice lilting high as she affirms her love of Christmas in the most jolly way possible. Only after Ol' Saint Nick has plowed some courage into Celine does he give her the most precious gift of all, and joy surges through her along with his seed.

Aria and Tina cease their furious masturbating and scurry over to join Celine, helping her up onto her knees as they eagerly wait for what they know must come next. They squish their faces together, all of them kneading their breasts like dough as they open their mouths wide as if singing. Santa waxes his pole right in front of them, knees bent as he readies to give the girls one last present before he must fly away. The trio pant for it, begging, assuring him that they are good girls now, sloppily making out as they grope one another; they wanted to try some more eggnog! Ol' Saint Nick lets out one last mighty groan, as he plasters the girls with icing, blowing snow all over their faces and down their chest, coating their hair with a thick layer of frost. The streamers sputter and gasp, swallowing the ropes that land in their mouths, licking it off one another in a frenzy of lust. By the time they were finished, the Big Man had vanished, but he had left one last surprise for them. A pile of presents, filled to the brim with phallic objects of all sorts, dongs the churned and whirred and vibrated, enough to put on a degenerate nativity play. The girls gasp as they look at the clock, there was still time for them to save Christmas! Gleefully, Aria, Celine, and Tina scoop up armfuls of toys and lubricant and dash back into the kitchen hammering the camera on and sending out blast-emails and posts to all and sundry to cum join them for fresh Christmas festivities!

The stream that would last for thirty-seven cum-soaked minutes before being shut down when a mod finally finished draining his balls and realized he should maybe put a stop to things. It would set a record for late-night viewer counts that would only be surpassed years later. But perhaps most importantly, Christmas had indeed been saved, and several gallons of pent-up semen had been emptied. And for forever after, the three hoes would be sure to remain on the naughty list...

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puckingeccedentesiast · 4 months ago

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Last-Minute Miracle.

Pairing ~ Hughes Brothers x Reader

Word Count ~ 1.4k words

Authorial Note ~ My very belated HHH fic. I hope you all enjoy and reblogs are so, so appreciated!

TW ~ Nothing! Just heaps of lovely fluff! More of a focus on Quinn, maybe one or two name mix ups!

Lights glow in the windows of small town buildings. A picturesque town preparing, snow blankets the streets and holiday decorations bring a magical glow to the town square. Iridescent string lights hung, illuminating the window of the town's most beloved bakery, Holy & Hearth.

Enclosed inside the brick walls of the century old building Y/N, the owner, a normally calm and joyus young woman was now buried under overwhelming pressure. Y/N, a passionate baker, has always taken pride in creating the perfect Christmas treats for the town's annual holiday festival and festive season. Procuring the delicacies was a lone burden she shouldered, after her father's passing she took the brave step up to run the bakery that was previously his, her grandfather's before that and his grandfather's prior to that. This generational Christmas tradition was enormous for her family, but more specifically, her.

This year, thing were falling apart. Crumbling spectacularly, Y/N's assistant and best friend had recently gotten back from a trip visiting cousins in Michigan, a bustling state with a large city. A far cry from the small snowy town, its glistening lights and joyous atmosphere seemingly freezing everyone in it's bubble in time. When she returned though, it was with a nasty dose of viral tonsillitis.

"I'm sorry Y/N!" She choked out horsely over the phone, and you could tell how remorseful the friend truly was. This was the first year the two would run the event together, months of angst and painstaking late hours sampling recipes was the lead up to tonight.

The festival started tomorrow at ten. Y/N looked at the clock, she had a little under twelve hours. How could she do this alone-

Her friend's voice crackled through the phone, "I think I have some people who can help.."

.`~> <~`.

It had plagued Y/N's mind until three o'clock. Since she put the phone down she hadn't wasted a second, not even to really breathe. All of the recipes had been pinned to the cork board on the wall, sticky notes littered the pages with quantities of each treat needed. Numbers changed as orders came roaring in each one making the situation feel even more unfathomable, specially orders for the preschool, church and hockey team all piled in. Around that time three young men stepped into the shop, shrugging snow off of their jackets as the small bell chimed letting Y/N know of their arrival.

"Hi! I am so sorry.. but we are closed currently." Y/N looked at the three, dusting her flour covered hands onto the already messy front of her apron. She locked eyes with the what appeared to be the oldest, beautiful chocolate eyes and perfect dimples.

The tallest of the three, who was stood slightly behind the others shyly spoke, "Our cousin sent us.. she said she was the assistant."

Recognition crossed Y/N's face, these were the cousins that her friend went to visit. Quite frankly, the first thought across the young bakers mind was how on earth do you win the genetic lottery.. all of them did.

It was outrageous.

"She sent you to help?" Y/N asked skeptically, without causing major offense, "You don't seem the type.. if that makes sense."

Dimples stepped forward, "I can understand why it looks that way but we owe our cousin a favour and she said that you would need all the help you could get."

"Well she certainly is correct in that statement." Y/N sighed, looking down to where her phone was practically buzzing off the desk with orders.

The three men glanced around the bakery, taking in the flurry of activity and the clear signs of Y/N’s exhaustion. Flour dusted every surface, and the warm scent of sugar and spice lingered in the air despite the chaos.

"I'm Quinn.. these are my brothers Jack and Luke." Y/N now vaguely recognized the three from photos she had seen in her friends house. After a quick introduction, the three boys stepped forward further into the bakery. “We’re quick learners, and we’re here for as long as you need. Just tell us what to do.”

The tallest of the group, who Y/N now knew as Luke, nodded. “I’ve worked in a kitchen before. Nothing big, but I can handle a mixer or wash dishes if you need it. I've helped with team dinners."

Team Dinners? Maybe he plays collegiate?

The third, who’d been quietly assessing the situation with sharp blue eyes, gave a small smile. “I’m Jack. I’ll definitely be the most useful."

"My gut is telling me there isn't an ounce of truth in that statement." Y/N smiled back at the blue eyed boy, a cheeky smile adorning his lips.

Y/N stared at them for a moment, her initial skepticism softening. She didn’t have much choice, and at this point, she’d take any help she could get. “Alright, let’s see what you’ve got.” She gestured toward the corkboard, laden with recipes and sticky notes. “Here’s the game plan. We’ve got to tackle these orders first. Then, we need to prepare for the festival tomorrow morning. Can you handle a crash course in Christmas baking?”

Jack grinned. “Lead the way, boss.”

Y/N turned around and gave him a look that very clearly said, don't start.

.`~> <~`.

For the next few hours, the bakery became a whirlwind of activity. Y/N quickly discovered that Luke had a knack for organization, swiftly sorting ingredients and keeping the workspace tidy. Quinn had steady hands perfect for decorating intricate cookies, and Jack's charm proved invaluable when a few last-minute customers knocked on the locked door, pleading for small orders.

“Alright,” Y/N called out, her voice cutting through the hum of the mixer and the clatter of trays. “How’s the gingerbread station coming along?”

“Almost done,” Luke replied, carefully sliding a tray of perfectly shaped gingerbread men into the oven. “You weren’t kidding about these being popular.”

Quinn, hunched over a tray of cooled cookies, piped delicate snowflake patterns with surprising precision. “Do we have enough frosting? I’m flying through it over here.”

Y/N laughed, the sound light for the first time all night. “You’re doing great. I’ll whip up another batch.”

Jack emerged from the front of the shop, his hands full of empty coffee cups. “I made a deal with the diner across the street. They’ll keep us supplied with coffee if we give them a tray of those chocolate crinkle cookies.”

Y/N raised an eyebrow. “You’re bartering baked goods now?”

“Gotta keep the team caffeinated,” he said with a wink.

"You mean yourself." Quinn glared, "Since when do you do something that doesn't aid you."

Y/N snorted, nose tipped down into her coffee mug as the steam rose around her face. Her eyes danced with humour when she looked back up at Jack who look utterly displeased.

By the time dawn broke, the bakery had transformed. Rows of festive treats filled the display cases, from meticulously decorated sugar cookies to golden loaves of spiced bread. The air buzzed with the scent of cinnamon and peppermint, and Y/N couldn’t help but feel a swell of pride—and relief.

The three men, now dusted in flour and clearly exhausted, leaned against the counter, surveying their work.

“Not bad for a bunch of amateurs,” Y/N said, offering a tired smile.

Jack crossed his arms, dimples flashing. “Does this mean we pass the crash course?”

“You’ve earned extra credit,” she replied, "Only cause you got coffee though."

The festival that day was a resounding success. Holy & Hearth became the heart of the celebration, its booth drawing a steady stream of delighted townsfolk. Children’s eyes widened at the sight of glittering cookies, and parents murmured their appreciation for the bakery’s dedication to tradition.

Y/N stood behind the counter, handing out treats with a genuine smile. She felt a tap on her shoulder and turned to see the trio of cousins. Jack held a cup of hot cocoa, Luke carried a plate of leftover cookies, and Quinn's grin was as warm as ever.

“Thought you might need a break,” Jack said, holding out the cocoa.

Y/N accepted it gratefully. “I couldn’t have done this without you guys.”

“We couldn’t let you face it alone,” Luke said, his voice sincere.

As the town square lit up with the glow of the Christmas tree, Y/N felt a deep sense of gratitude. The festival wasn’t just a continuation of her family’s tradition—it was a reminder of the magic of community and the unexpected ways people could come together.

And as Quinn's dimpled smile lingered in her mind, she realized this Christmas might bring more than just sweet memories.

Reblogs are appreciated!

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r-a-i-n-y-d-a-z-e · 4 months ago

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Participated in my first SPN Secret Santa Exchange 🎁, hosted by @fluffsnake and their friend Gitten. Here's the art I made for my giftee: Oftennix The couples (and kids 🧒🐶) are hanging out at Dean’s bar being all Christmassy and festive...but in Supernatural nothing is ever 100% good or calm. Evil doesn't stop because of the Holidays. A crossover threat lurks in the background. 👀

Had fun making this. 🎄💚 Close-up & details under the cut.

'Dean's top 13 Zepp TRAXX' in the tape deck

Rowena using magic to make hot apple cider 🍎

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Dean wearing a western/cowboy 'Ugly Christmas Cardigan' ...a real thing, but dang it I forgot the fringe lol

Beer is the show's 'Margiekugel's lager' brand

Gifts for Sam & Crowley

Family photos around the cash register: Destiel cowboys, Jack/Sam/Cas/Dean with Baby, Cas and Claire ...and behind register is Dean and Cas date pic, and Cas on a horse

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Wedding band on Cas' finger

'11:11' on his watch because... look how happy he is that he's gotten everything he wished for 💙

Honey bee & heart cookies

Dean totally made him wear the elf hat & little elf body sweater 🤭

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Jack made a Gingerbread Hou-...Bunker.... Impala and his dads

The Christmas tree is decorated with little tree car air fresheners and fishing lures like in S3:E8

Jack is wearing Mrs. Butters' apron from S15:E14

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Charlie is repping her MoonDoor Larp House (S8:E11) in Christmas Sweater form

FBBC beer can wreath ...also beer can wreath mentioned in S3:E8 ...but no stealing them from liquor stores anymore... Dean gets crafty now ☺️

Crossover Threat: Art the Clown, from the 'Terrifier' movies, outside window ....there's always some kind of fight to be had in the Supernatural world

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MIRACLE 🦴🐶🐾💗 also participating in the family festivities

#SPN fanart #Castiel #Dean Winchester #Rowena #Charlie Bradbury #Jack Kline #Miracle #Misha Collins #JensenAckles #Destiel #SPN #Supernatural #myArt

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fuckyeahgoodomens · 2 years ago

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Link 1, Link 2 :)

Digital Good Omens 2 Sountrack is coming out in 4 days! 🥳 CD version in October! :) ❤ Coming soon on vinyl…

Out to Stream/Download from 25th August. Out on CD 13th October. Coming soon on vinyl…

David Arnold’s ‘end of the world’ complex and multi-genre soundtrack.

From the Award-winning composer of Sherlock and Casino Royale comes a follow up to the hugely successful, Emmy nominated Good Omens soundtrack.

Good Omens series 2 premiered on Prime Video on 28th July. The series follows the odd couple, angel Aziraphale (Michael Sheen) and demon Crowley (David Tennant) in their quest to sabotage the end of the World. The six-episode sequel to the popular adaptation of the novel by Neil Gaiman and Terry Pratchett, concerns the Archangel Gabriel (Jon Hamm) arriving without his memories to Aziraphale’s bookshop. Aziraphale and Crowley attempt to find out what happened to Gabriel, whilst hiding him from Heaven and Hell, both eager to find him.

The Soundtrack

David Arnold’s soundtrack to Good Omens was first released in 2019 to favourable reviews, with BBC Music Magazine calling it “a rollicking trip to hell and back”. Blueprint Magazine described it as “a great listen” and Sci Fi Bulletin commented on “plenty of memorable themes” to conclude that “This is another work of art from Arnold”. At times nostalgic and eerie but always varied, beautiful and full of excitement, the Good Omens 2 soundtrack showcases Arnold’s every skill from his composer arsenal. Featured here are orchestral arrangements with sprinkling of Sugar Plum Fairy pizzicato and percussion, jaunty strings and mighty choral sweeps from Crouch End Festival Chorus. Added to the mix are rock guitar riffs, and psychedelic 70s sounds and all together they create a haunting otherworldly feel, complementing the fantasy and the quirky humour of the show. The spirited Waltz of the opening theme is also present in the second series and it wonderfully sets the scene for fantastical mayhem. In series 2, this robust, evocative, and funny music entity, becomes yet again another character in the story. Award-winning composer David Arnold is well known for his blockbuster scores, including Stargate, The Chronicles of Narnia: the Voyage of the Dawn Treader, Hot Fuzz, Paul, Independence Day, 2 Fast 2 Furious and Casino Royale as well as for his TV work such as Sherlock and Dracula. Also available: The original soundtrack to the first series of Good Omens >

Tracklist

– Disc 1 – Chapter 1: The Arrival 1. Before the Beginning 2. Good Omens 2 Opening Title 3. Into Soho 4. Something Terrible 5. To The Bookshop 6. Maggie and Nina 7. He’s Smoking 8. Tiny Miracle 9. Heavenly Alarm Bells Chapter 2: The Clue 10. Avaunt! 11. The Song is the Clue 12. It’s What God Wants 13. A Mighty Wind 14. Whales 15. Gabriel Returns 16. His New Children 17. Am I Awful Now? 18. Fallen Angel Chapter 3: I Know Where I’m Going 19. Police Arrive 20. Scotland 21. We’re Going to Hell 22. People Get a Choice 23. My Car is Not Yellow 24. Beelzebub in Hell 25. The Book 26. The Fly 27. Mr. Dalrymple 28. We Need to Cut 29. I’m Going to Save Her 30. Crowley Goes Large 31. Not Kind 32. Beelzebub Isn’t Happy – Disc 2 – Chapter 4: The Hitchhiker 33. Hell-O 34. Nazi Zombies 35. March of the Nazi Zombies 36. Crowley Pep Talk 37. The Magic Shop 38. Catch The Bullet 39. Zombies in the Dressing Room Chapter 5: The Ball 40. I’ll Let You Have It 41. We’re Storming a Book Shop 42. Monsieur Azirophale 43. The Candelabra 44. Here Comes Hell 45. Gabriel Gives Himself Up 46. Shax 47. The Circle Chapter 6: Every Day 48. Bin Through the Window 49. Gabriel Leaving Heaven 50. The Halo 51. Gabriel Revealed 52. Gabriel’s Love Story 53. Leaving The Bookshop 54. Gabriel and Beelzebub 55. Crowley and Muriel 56. I Forgive You 57. Don’t Bother 58. The Biggest Decision 59. The End?

#good omens #gos2 #season 2 #GOS2Spoilers #good omens spoilers #music #s2 music #david g arnold #s2 soundtrack #wahoo!#shut up and take my money :D

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mrstellmeafuckingsecret · 3 months ago

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walburga thinks sirius is a gift from hecate. her family thinks she's going mad but she knows better, it just makes so much sense.

the healers had said that she'd never be able to conceive, and she'd already had two miscarriages trying to prove them wrong, so she started praying - going back in her timeline to her forefathers, the high priests of hecate, and begged her for a son; performing rituals under the moon, leaving food, doing blood magic, burying stillborn puppies. her brothers told her she was hysterical, even mad, until she conceived. they were silenced, then.

she did these rituals monthly, then, till sirius was born. 3rd November, 1959, something else she considered to be a direct sign from the goddess. he was born on a waning crescent phase, when hecate's powers were strongest. furthermore, he was born right after samhain, the festival for the relationship between the living and the dead. he was born under an omen of power, she was convinced, the Black heir who would have ties to dead and the alive.

when regulus was born, she was confused. initially, she had been thrilled - another blessing? another miracle? - but there were no signs from hecate. regulus was born on a full moon, he was a virgo, there were no festivals, no nothing. maybe she resented him for giving her hope and disappointing her, maybe he was the one who she truly loved and cared for like a son, not like how she cared for sirius - distantly, almost like she worshipped him.

walburga continued her rituals, her worship of hecate, and took sirius with her from the very first day, when he was still an infant, put him on altars instead of pedestals. she took him to altars and taught him greek before english - isolation was a small price to pay for greatness.

she had no reason to believe sirius would be anything less than great - until he started rebelling, of course.

it started small.

walburga had been afraid to send sirius away for hogwarts, but she did, and two months later she got a letter from sirius saying he hadn't been cleansing himself with burnt herbs before rituals because his friends asked too many questions. that was the first sign. there were others. many, many others. she didn't plan on letting sirius return to hogwarts after he finally returned to the altar home for christmas break (what if he stopped performing rituals altogether?), but orion sent him off without her permission.

(she prayed about it. sirius cleansed himself. hecate was still with her.)

when sirius was sixteen, he said walburga was crazy. he said that he hadn't performed the rituals in years, that he knew all about the sacrifices, that it was all bullshit. he ran away. walburga broke. she cried, she begged her goddess to give her her god son back, and then sadness turned to anger, and she yelled and hurt and cursed - how dare sirius throw something so great away? how dare he betray his blood, but more importantly, his destiny? the miracle he was? did he not know hecate would abandon him? and hecate did, yes, yes she did, because sirius went to azkaban, and walburga knew he didn't kill the potters but he'd committed blasphemy, something infinitely worse, so she let him rot. had he continued his worship, she could've protected him, guided him - instead, she let her hounds of the underworld claim him, let the dementers gnaw at his soul. as he deserved.

when sickness got to her, and she was left alone in an empty house, weak and helpless, she wondered if hecate had abandoned her, too, abandoned her for letting the brightest star burn out.

#idk mythology sooo don't fact check me #or do idk #can't wait for all seven notes on this post #sirius black #walburga black #the black family #sirius and walburga #walburga and sirius #greek black family #moth's own #hecate's blessing au

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wandasaura · 1 year ago

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— SWEET FESTIVE LOVE

summary — so much has been taken from your girlfriends, so bringing a taste of the holidays into your shared apartment gives back some of the magic they lost out on for so long

warning(s) — just a sweet morning with your girlfriends, the faintest most nondescript mention of wanda/natasha’s childhoods

It was easier said than done; escaping from bed without waking the two Avengers you slept between, but eventually by some kind of miracle, you managed to untangle yourself from their warm bodies and the heavy blankets you had been practically cocooned beneath without too much trouble, and once your bare feet hit the cold hardwood, chills immediately spreading up your bones at the fluctuation of temperature, you were free to escape into the living room where Halloween decorations taunted you on every surface.

The first thing you did was switch the overhead lights on and start a pot of coffee in the kitchen — more for Natasha than yourself. You wouldn’t have much time before they noticed you were missing from bed and came to find you with worried and panicked frowns on their sleepy faces, but coffee was as good of a peace offering as any for your scarlet headed girlfriend. Wanda would just laugh when she eventually found you, she was always the last to jump to conclusions when it came to your spontaneous disappearances.

With coffee brewing and dawn approaching, the fresh-feeling yelled-toned sunlight that peaked through the windows created a gentle golden hue within the eerily quiet apartment, you set off on your original mission, the entire reason you wrangled yourself out of bed so early; setting up for Christmas.

You’d sat with the idea for weeks before you brought it up to your girlfriends, knowing Wanda came from a Jewish family, and Natasha had been cheated of a childhood entirely, you didn’t want to overstep on your first holiday season together, still in the stage of navigating new traditions and celebrations, but the witch had assured you that she didn’t mind the decorations and traditional festive traditions you wanted to bring into the apartment. She was secure in her upbringing (the little she got to have before everything was ripped away at the very least), and she enjoyed the cheesiness of a jolly sleigh riding home intruder and gingerbread men. Natasha had been otherwise indifferent when the conversation turned to her, not the most forthcoming when it came to reliving the Ohio mission, but you caught the slight curl to her pink lips when you started rambling about your family's traditions. After that, you’d slowly started to accumulate different decorations that you thought encapsulated theirs and your personalities perfectly. You shied away from the brighter reds and greens that overpopulated stores, sticking with cooler tones and golds that were more their laidback energy.

You started the process by dismantling all of the fall decorations you’d placed out in September, piling them all on the couch to be put away later on when you had more of an idea as to where all the Christmas decor would be going. You replaced styrofoam pumpkins and scarecrows with porcelain pine trees and snowmen, sprinkling fake snow and vines of artificial holly across the mantle where you’d be handing the matching stockings you had custom made.

You cleared the windowsill in the center of the front wall, stacking the picture frames on the arm of the couch before you went back to decorating, spreading a navy blue table runner across the white trim to add contrast to the primarily red and green decorations. You’d gotten a lot accomplished by time you heard panicked feet shuffling down the stairs, fumbling over the placement of palm sized glass dreidels when Natasha’s presence became known.

“There you are!” She gasped, tugging her fingers through her slept on red curls, keeping them out of her face as the panic turned into annoyance. “Halloween was yesterday, Y/N.” She emphasized her displeasure with a grumpy huff, staring straight at your collection of nesting dolls that were sitting where her beloved jack-o-lantern resided just last night.

“Oh don’t be such a scrooge.” Wanda called from the top of the stairs, amusement clear in her tone as she figured what you were up to, clearly not as worried as Natasha had been. She came down the stairs with less of a rush, busy tying her hair up into a ponytail before she paused at the bottom of the steps when her eyes drifted over to where you were standing. “Dove.” Her tone drips with fondness and appreciation as she takes note of the silver menorah in the center of the windowsill, the blossoming sunlight reflecting off of the glass dreidels that were scattered around as well, casting small shadows of rainbow light against the opposite wall.

“I know you don’t really celebrate Chanukah, but I wanted you to feel represented too. I hope I got it right.” You fiddle with your fingers nervously, “I looked up so many menorahs. I made sure the shamash.. is that what it’s called?…I made sure the shamash was a different height, and that the eight branches were level. So many I looked at weren’t.”

Wanda’s gaze was practically bleeding with adoration as she crossed the living room to hold your face tenderly in her hands, “Thank you.” She kissed your lips earnestly, brushing her fingers over your cheeks delicately before she flickered her gaze to the little details you paid close attention to. She spotted a gold Star of David sitting next to a suction cup hook, not yet hung up wherever you intended to place it, but her heart swelled at the intentions.

“You’re welcome.” You giggled shyly, leaning in to kiss her sweetly as she embraced you in a true and tight embrace. “Now! Since you both decided to wake up, the tree needs to be set up, and I wasn’t tall enough to hang that sign or the mistletoe!” You called out smugly, staring directly at Natasha who just groaned defeatedly, but you knew she didn’t mind, she was just too proud to admit how nice it was to see the apartment so lively and normal. This was all she’d ever wanted her life to amount to.

#wanda maximoff #natasha romanoff #wandanat #wanda maximoff fluff #natasha romanoff fluff #wandanat fluff #wanda maximoff x reader #natasha romanoff x reader #wandanat x reader #series: little dove

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callivich · 4 months ago

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Gallavich Winter Fic Recs ❄️

@ohkate asked me for my favourite winter fics so here we go! 💖

I bet there’s some I’ve forgotten, so I may add to this in the future. I’d love to know what everyone else’s favourite wintery gallavich stories are, if you feel like sharing?

The Axe by redkay

“Do you have an axe?” Ian asks. “On me?” Mickey clarifies.

A better day (for you) by @captainjowl

Ian is unhappy, Mickey can see it. He's quiet and withdrawn, and it's obvious that something is weighting on him. Worried, Mickey tries everything to cheer him up, but nothing seems to be able to improve his mood. Until suddenly, a few weeks before Christmas, Ian gets a phone call that brings the spark back to his eyes.

Closed for Christmas by @abundanceofnots

Two boys, one (not so) festive evening.

Santa Comes Early by @whatthebodygraspsnot

Late Christmas Eve night, Mickey wakes to find a stranger in his living room. What follows can only be described as holiday magic. Or maybe a fever dream. Because Mickey didn’t know Santa Claus had a son. A son who’s not only extremely handsome, but who just so happened to make a special trip to Mickey’s house, without his father knowing about it. So really, how can Mickey not fuck him?

12 days of gallavich by @sam-loves-seb

a collection of christmas one shots featuring ian and mickey through the years

Keeping Warm Amongst the Cold by @scarlet-witchery

Two newlyweds, a snowy day, a pile of Gallaghers, and lots of memories.

Show Me Family by @ifallonblackdays

Ian wants to celebrate their first Christmas in their new apartment. It backfires spectacularly. Until it doesn't.

Miracle on Naperville Road by @whatthebodygraspsnot

Mickey’s known for a while now that he and Ian are closer than coworkers really should be. There’s something there between them - it’s obvious - their timing has just always been off. But this year, the Christmas party at their rich boss’s house feels different. Important. Destined. Ian and his ex are freshly split. And Mickey’s just made sure he’s single too.

Love is Patient by @whatthebodygraspsnot

Mickey’s husband wants to send out Christmas cards this year, so god damn it, they’re gonna send out Christmas cards! Now if only said husband wasn’t distracted by a book in bed, instead of coming to see the final product. Surely Mickey can fix this in a normal and un-demonic way, right? …right? Hello?

Truth or Dare by @thisdivorce Ian and Mickey share some truths.

mentally, physically weak by pinkpantherman

“Think I got a way to warm you up, princess,” he says suggestively, kisses trailing down Ian’s jaw, easily accessing his neck when Ian tilts his head back. “Okay,” Ian mumbles with a smile, looking down and brushing his nose against Mickey’s, “but I’m not removing these clothes in any way, shape, or form, so you better get creative.”

Valued by @whatthebodygraspsnot

Mickey wakes up from his afternoon nap to find his husband getting the backyard ready for winter. Early. Like how he came home early from his visit to the Gallagher house. Something’s off with Ian, and even though it’s hard for him, Mickey’s gonna figure out what. And then he’s gonna fix it.

Jack My Heat by @whatthebodygraspsnot

After a long winter day outside, Mickey helps himself to Ian's body heat on the couch. It's perfect - they've got a blanket, a fire in the fireplace, a joint that's keeping them laughing - everything that makes for a good hangout. They're best friends, after all. And when an accidental, curious little grind works up between them for the first time, maybe something more?

to the thawing wind by @gardenerian

Living and working in the icy chill of an endless winter, Ian and his family are assigned to work the farms to bolster food supply. They live quietly enough, following the rules, until Mickey and Mandy Milkovich (with all their secrets) are moved in across the road.

'Tis The Damn Season by @sweetcresta

“How long you in town for?” Mickey’s voice, muffled by the cigarette hanging from his lips, pulls Ian from his trance. He looks over at him, and for a split second, Mickey looks younger, like the high school boy that used to bring Ian to his knees. But in reality, they’re in their mid-twenties and they’re starting to get lines on their faces, the teenagers they once were lost to the passing of a decade. Instead of letting the memories linger, he wills them down with a gulp. “Just till the end of the weekend.” OR: Ian comes home for Christmas and old habits die hard. Based on Tis the damn season by Taylor Swift.

Merry & Bright by @arrowflier

On the eve of their first Christmas in their own place, Ian and Mickey prepare to host their family and think about how much their lives have changed.

Hay It's Getting Cold Out by @depressedstressedlemonzest

Mickey wants to shelter the stray cat he's grown attached to outside the apartment complex.

just another mall rat monday by you_me_us

Ian and Mickey are both working in a mall when a winter storm hits, somehow they are the last employees left inside and they have to survive together for one night.

like looking through a fogged mirror by charlemint

"It snowed! Wake up, it snowed!" "Th'fuck?" Mickey grunts, sleep thick voice cutting into the quiet after the toddler's morning assault on his ears. "Gonna guess it snowed," comes a flat, sleep slurred voice behind him, the pair of arms circled around Mickey's middle tightening. "Snow day for you then, Kris Kringle?" Mickey asks, his lips turning up in a lazy smirk when the nickname earns him a swat to his hip.

Throw a Girl Around by @arrowflier

Kev and Vee are in town to start the year off right, and an afternoon of playing in the snow with the kids turns into an afternoon of giving Mickey shit. In other words, it's a day ending in y.

LET IT SNOW! by @restapesta

Lip thought the upcoming blizzard to be the perfect excuse to disappear from home for a while. What he didn't think of was anybody being at the Gallagher house as he did so, especially not Ian and Mickey.

Auld Lang Syne by @arrowflier

On New Year's Eve, Ian is looking forward to a fresh start. Mickey, not so much.

ablaze by @catgrassplantdad

Ian and Mickey finally put their new fireplace to good use.

Snowballs and Sneaking Out by @gallawitchxx

Mickey shows up to the Gallagher House in the middle of the night with a surprise for Ian.

Notes on Optimism by @gallavichy

Mickey POV Cooperative Gameplay one-shot. Ian and Mickey take their Christmas trip to New York.

#gallavich #mickey milkovich #ian gallagher #ian x mickey #calli talks #rec list #fic rec

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rayroseu · 1 year ago

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The Halloween Ceremony of Briar Valley is very similar to the Lantern Festival in Tangled.

The Lantern Festival was created after the mysterious kidnapping of Baby Rapunzel and the purpose was everyone in the kingdom lights up lanterns in the sky in hopes for the safe return of their princess.

In TWST, I think this festival was created in Briar Valley after the death of Meleanor, and Briar Valley faes lights up lanterns in hopes that her "leftover egg" be finally hatched.

For \~400 years it isn't just Lilia wishing for the stars for Malleus to be born, everyone in Briar Valley prayed for Malleus to hatch safely as well

His birthday is a holiday because it was celebrating the newlyborn dragon but this Lantern Festival of BV is on Halloween because it commemorates Meleanor's death and the desperation of the people for Malleus to 'exist.' That's why now that he's born, it's his duty to light up the lanterns as to imply that he made the "miracles come true/answered the wishes of his people."

Lilia tells this tale on his Halloween Vignette that Malleus is still a kid and an amateur in magic.

So, I'm thinking that this incident was probably a major trauma for Malleus seeing that he harmed his people by destroying houses as people flee away from him in fear that they'll be hurt by him... on the day that's supposed to celebrate his existence after long centuries of praying, he repayed it as first by displaying how powerful and terrifying he is even as a child.

As if he didn't already experience almost killing the castle servants by freezing them to death as a baby... Imagine the first life lesson you'll learn after learning how to walk was "to control your power so that it won't harm others." (What General Lilia implied to him after he cheered him up).

I don't really view that Malleus genuinely likes being all powerful, that's why he craves companionship, because majority of his childhood composed of his own people almost getting killed by him.

Malleus probably feels guilty to convert such The Lantern Festival/Halloween Ceremony into a tragedy. This was a ceremony where people should be glad he's here but how can one be genuinely glad to "have him" after the massive fire incident... 😭

"It will forever be carved in Briar Valley's History"... Unlike the freezing castle incident which happened in private... This was a public disaster where he's always going to be reminded by the scene of Briar Valley burning up because of his flames every Halloween...

That's why when he says this "Halloween is very special", he means it profoundly. It's kind of like a "revised memory" from a Halloween day where people were actually happy and celebrating, and why prior to the Halloween Event, he was so adamant that it should be 'perfect'...

I think there's a tragic tone that Malleus is basically a perfectionist because he often caused disasters when he was a child.

#twst #disney twisted wonderland #twisted wonderland #twistedwonderland #malleus draconia #lian notes #disney twst #lilia vanrouge #twst diasomnia #twst theory #twst headcanons #twst wonderland #twst malleus #twst malleus draconia #my art #twisted wonderland malleus draconia #twisted wonderland headcanons #twst halloween

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saigethearies · 2 years ago

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saige’s terrortober presents…

proximity

your unlikely partnership with tobio was just that- a partnership. that is, until the vacant room at the motel had only one bed.

demon hunter!tobio kageyama x witch!fem!reader

contents/warnings: unprotected vaginal sex, facefucking, dry humping, confessions, some praise, mention of a knife and violence, reader and tobio are both a lil drunk on lust

wc: 2k

18+ MINORS DNI

the first time you met tobio kageyama, he held a knife to your throat.

in his defense, he did think you were a demon. a skilled hunter such as himself was able to detect your dark energy from a mile away, he just didn’t know you emitted it for a different reason.

demons emit it naturally, you emit when you utilize the dark arts. practicing black and white magic alike is what enabled you to grow stronger than the other witches, and in turn be better able to protect the people. what better way to take down a demon than to give it a taste of its own medicine?

you could have easily gotten his blade away from your skin, but you had a stigma against using incantations on fellow humans. besides, coming off as hostile would make it harder to plead your non-demonic case to him.

eventually you managed to appeal to his years of experience in the field, the ravenette deciding you weren’t acting or behaving like a demon in any fashion. explaining your abilities to him, he brought you back to the hunter society, seeing the value that could come from a witch battling against demons.

the higher-ups decided a powerful duo could be made out of your unique powers and his perfected expertise, so the rest was history.

you and tobio were coming up on a year of being hunting partners, cutting down countless demons together.

the feelings you were starting to develop, however, were becoming a lot harder to fight.

the lingering stares you’d give him, the heat on your cheeks, your racing pulse- you were worried you were being obvious. that he’d catch on and your dynamic would become awkward, because he didn’t feel the same.

someone as reserved and standoffish as tobio definitely didn’t feel the same, he probably didn’t think twice about romance. it was a miracle the two of you could even hold a friendly conversation now.

oh, how wrong you were.

“we only have one room left, and it only has one bed.”

the both of you blinked, still covered in dirt and grime from the mission you’d completed about an hour ago. all of the other motels in the town were completely booked, something about a festival. you and tobio were both exhausted, each failed attempt at finding a place to sleep worsening your tiredness.

and now? the two of you avoiding sharing a room in general when possible, sharing a bed?

there was no way. tobio was probably about to turn to you and just suggest to try again in the next town over-

“we’ll take it.”

his response caught you completely off guard, and you watched on in shock as the innkeeper handed him the key.

the walk to your room was quiet, and once you were there, the only words spoken were to determine who got to shower first.

offering to shower second, you left the bathroom once you were clean and in your pajamas. tobio had changed into his while you were bathing, and it was clear the two of you were both caught off guard at each other’s attire.

tobio had on a pair of athletic shorts- no shirt.

you had on an oversized shirt, and tobio couldn’t see any bottoms, which was leading his poor imagination to dangerous places.

you stared at each other in silence for a few moments longer before he finally broke it.

“sorry, i thought i would be sleeping alone, or else i would have, you know, brought a shirt.”

“no, it’s fine! don’t apologize! neither of us planned for this…”

more silence.

you saw him grab one of the pillows off the bed, moving towards the floor space in front of it. “you take the bed.”

“what? tobio, no, your muscles are probably really sore. you need it more than me.”

you weren’t wrong. his fighting style was much more physical than yours, relying on weaponry and hand-to-hand combat while your specialty was your spells and incantations.

“you take the bed, i insist.”

he frowned. “if my sister knew i made a girl sleep on the floor, she’d kill me.”

you sighed. neither of you were going to budge on this, so the next words that came out of your mouth had your stomach erupting into nerves.

“…we can share it?”

his face almost went pale. you weren’t sure if you should be offended. “…are you sure?”

“yeah, it’s just one night, right?”

somehow the bed felt even smaller once you were both in it. you swore it was a double, but now it felt as if it couldn’t have been much bigger than a twin. you were half hanging off the side, trying to avoid being in tobio’s personal space more than you already were.

the hunter noticed how uncomfortable you looked.

“…you can move closer if you need.”

head turning towards him, you mirrored his earlier question. “are you sure?”

“you’re gonna have back problems tomorrow if you sleep like that, yes i’m sure.”

that’s how you ended up in bed with your demon hunting partner, your head on his chest because of the limited space, his arm resting behind your shoulders.

it was dark, the two of you just trying to fall asleep as fast as possible. you could hear tobio’s heartbeat below your ear, the sound almost soothing despite the way too intimate proximity.

you let it lull you for a few more minutes, almost nuzzling into his skin. suddenly, you felt his heart start to beat quicker, the pace accelerating and accelerating until-

tobio jumped out of bed, cheeks dusted pink as he breathed heavily, looking down at you.

“what’s wro-“

“do you have some sort of spell on me?”

a look of confusion came onto your features. “huh?”

“a spell, do you have a…love or lust or whatever the fuck spell on me?”

you jaw fell open. what the hell was going on?

“tobio,” you started. “why are you asking?”

he tried to calm his breathing. he was usually so cool and collected, you weren’t familiar with seeing him this frazzled. “because i…”

“because you what?”

“i really want you right now, like really bad.”

his words had your brain malfunctioning, chest feeling warm and bubbly. he wanted you?

you cleared your throat. “tobio…you’re not under any spell right now.”

he blinked. “i’m not?”

“no.”

you saw the reality of the situation sink in for him, and you never thought you’d ever see tobio kageyama look so embarrassed. if the ground were to swallow him whole then and there, he would be thankful.

you figured you might as well end his suffering.

“it’s okay,” you said with a soft smile, figuring now was as good of a time as ever. “i want you, too.”

your saccharine words drifted into his ears and tobio’s mind went blank.

then, he was on you before you could even watch him move, sitting down onto the bed and tugging you into his lap. he crashed his lips against yours, teeth gnashing together as he kissed you with so much vigor it reminded you of how he fought.

your mouths continued to dance against one another’s as his arms encircled your waist, grinding his pelvis against yours. he discovered that what was hiding beneath your big t-shirt was the thinnest pair of pajama shorts possible, the material doing nothing to conceal your heat from him.

that caused him to hump against you with even more passion, and your eyes almost rolled back when you could feel his covered length press into your core, trying to gyrate in rhythm with him.

pulling away, you tugged your shirt over your head before grabbing onto his shoulders, hovering your lips back over his.

“can i suck you off?” you asked, eyes watery and blown wide.

“w-what?”

did he hear you right?

“please, tobio! wanna suck your cock so bad.”

you were practically whining against his lips now, so desperate to have your mouth wrapped around the warm dick you could feel rubbing against you earlier.

the red on his cheeks intensified, seeing you so needy for him. the image of you on your knees before him also made his pants feel tighter, so the hunter found himself nodding. “alright, if you really want-“

he didn’t even have time to finish his sentence before you were dropping to your knees before him, tugging his athletic shorts and boxers down all in one go.

his erect cock was so pretty, long with a pink tip. you found yourself grasping it gently, bringing it to your lips so you could place several kisses on the head.

tobio’s head was already spinning at the attention you were giving him, a groan leaving his lips then when he felt your mouth finally engulf him.

his hands flew to grip the side of your head, bracing himself as you started to bob up and down. he couldn’t remember the last time he’d had a pretty girl pleasuring him like this, his past few years all consumed with hunting and protecting the public.

you opened up your throat, taking him all the way in as your nose came flush against his pelvis. tobio shivered at the sensation, fingers tightening on the side of his head. you moaned around him, and the vibrations caused something to snap within him.

keeping your head in place, the ravenette pulled out of your mouth only to thrust right back into it. he proceeded to fuck your face, sounds bubbling up from his throat that had your pussy growing even wetter than it was before.

just as his thighs started to shake from an oncoming orgasm, tobio yanked you off of him. you gasped, trying to collect your breath as he hauled you back up onto his lap.

“sorry,” he breathed, almost ripping your tiny little sleep shorts as he tore them off of you. he saw your cunt bare before him and almost lost it then and there.

“why’d you stop?”

he gave a soft peck to your pout that contradicted the frantic way he was moving his dick between your holds.

“wanna cum inside you instead.”

such dirty words sounded foreign coming from tobio, but the almost frenzied look in his eyes told you he wasn’t all there right now. his usual stoicness was being bogged down by lust, lust induced by you.

you practically cried out when he started to pull you down onto him, his dick feeling even bigger than it did earlier. he held your hips in place, panting against your ear as he kept burying more of himself inside of you. it was a miracle you were already so wet or else that stretch would have hurt.

tobio’s sanity seemed like it was hanging on by a thread. “can…can i move now?”

you nodded with earnest.

“please, please fuck me!”

planting his feet on the floor, the hunter instantly started to jackhammer up into you, every hit deep and hard within your walls. you squeezed your eyes shut, almost wailing as he battered your cunt.

“fuck, you feel so good, fuck, fuck!”

every time he pistoned up into you, tobio brought your hips down to meet his. he was practically using you as a fucktoy, and the thought sent your mind into shambles. your pussy clenched at the way he was treating you.

“tobio, i- ahhhh!”

his tip was slamming against that special spot within you now, every thrust now having your thighs twitching against his.

“feels even better than i imagined,” he breathed out. “wanted this for so fucking long, just didn’t think you felt the same.”

your heart fluttered at his confession.

“r-really?”

he kissed your cheek. “really.”

tobio’s balls felt so tight and he knew he wouldn’t last much longer. from the way you were trembling in his lap, you probably weren’t fairing much better.

keeping a hand on your hip, his other hand came to push your head against his chest, cradling it there as he picked up his pace.

you squealed out, tears falling onto his skin as your g-spot was met with even more force from his cock. feeling the band within you finally snap, your muscles locked then spasmed as you climaxed. the stimulus of your own orgasm sent tobio into his own, his hips stilling as he groaned and spilled into you.

the two of you were slumped, you going slack against tobio as he fell back onto the bed. coming to, his blue eyes widened as realization dawned on him.

“shit, i didn’t ask-“

“birth control spell,” you answered, already knowing exactly what he was going to say. “we’re fine, don’t worry.”

you felt him relax at that, rubbing his hand up and down your back. you hummed, smiling as you started to drift off into sleep.

“hey.”

“hm?”

“…do you wanna get breakfast tomorrow?”

you cracked an eye open at that, lifting your head to look at him. “like as hunting partners?”

the little scowl that came onto his face had you chuckling. “don’t be an ass about it!”

pressing a little kiss to his pec, you laid your head back down.

“i’d love to.”

_____

saige’s terrortober masterlist

#saige’s terrortober #kageyama x reader #tobio kageyama x reader #kageyama tobio x reader #kageyama smut #kageyama tobio smut #tobio kageyama smut #kageyama tobio #tobio kageyama #kageyama x you #haikyuu smut #haikyuu x reader

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creators-club · 5 months ago

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Welcome to the first '24 Days of Christmas' event for the Creators’ Club. Every holiday, we plan to have a custom event planned. For Christmas, we are hosting a prompt event.

Prompts:

Day 1:

Holiday Words: snow, reindeer, fireplace Holiday Phrase: "All is calm, all is bright."

Day 2:

Holiday Words: mistletoe, stockings, cocoa Holiday Phrase: "Home for the holidays."

Day 3:

Holiday Words: garland, sleigh, twinkle Holiday Phrase: "A winter wonderland."

Day 4:

Holiday Words: chimney, bells, frosty Holiday Phrase: "Silent night, holy night."

Day 5:

Holiday Words: candy cane, ribbon, wreath Holiday Phrase: "Deck the halls with boughs of holly."

Day 6:

Holiday Words: eggnog, Santa, frost Holiday Phrase: "Naughty or nice?"

Day 7:

Holiday Words: nutcracker, sugarplum, scarf Holiday Phrase: "‘Tis the season to be jolly."

Day 8:

Holiday Words: sleigh bells, gift, evergreen Holiday Phrase: "Over the river and through the woods."

Day 9:

Holiday Words: carolers, snowflake, gingerbread Holiday Phrase: "Do you hear what I hear?"

Day 10:

Holiday Words: poinsettia, icicle, peppermint Holiday Phrase: "Walking in a winter wonderland."

Day 11:

Holiday Words: elf, chimney, mittens Holiday Phrase: "Underneath the mistletoe."

Day 12:

Holiday Words: ornament, pinecone, sleigh ride Holiday Phrase: "Let it snow, let it snow, let it snow."

Day 13:

Holiday Words: candy, cocoa, snowfall Holiday Phrase: "Rockin’ around the Christmas tree."

Day 14:

Holiday Words: holly, lights, cheer Holiday Phrase: "It’s the most wonderful time of the year."

Day 15:

Holiday Words: ribbon, present, sparkles Holiday Phrase: "Have yourself a merry little Christmas."

Day 16:

Holiday Words: star, tree, joy Holiday Phrase: "Peace on Earth, goodwill to all."

Day 17:

Holiday Words: tinsel, cookies, glitter Holiday Phrase: "Oh, what fun it is to ride."

Day 18:

Holiday Words: wrapping paper, icicle, marshmallows Holiday Phrase: "On a cold winter’s night."

Day 19:

Holiday Words: snowman, jingle, candy cane Holiday Phrase: "Making spirits bright."

Day 20:

Holiday Words: lantern, cider, log Holiday Phrase: "Bringing tidings of comfort and joy."

Day 21:

Holiday Words: snow globe, sled, chocolate Holiday Phrase: "Under the sparkling lights."

Day 22:

Holiday Words: angel, melody, starry Holiday Phrase: "A child is born."

Day 23:

Holiday Words: gingerbread, carol, magic Holiday Phrase: "Let your heart be light."

Day 24:

Holiday Words: holly, miracle, velvet Holiday Phrase: "As the world awaits Christmas morn."

Guidelines Under the Read More

The 24 Days of Christmas Writing Challenge will officially run from December 1st to December 24th, giving participants the chance to immerse themselves in a festive creative journey. To provide a head start, participants can begin brainstorming and drafting as early as November 18th, though official entries will be accepted only during the event dates.

All submissions must include the hashtag #cc24DaysofChristmas to ensure they are recognized as part of the event. During this time, there will be no regular Creators Club events, allowing members to fully focus on this unique challenge.

All submissions written by followers who are not on the tag list will be featured under user: guest.

Submissions must be entirely original, as AI-generated content is strictly prohibited.

All submissions must be, at least, 100 words.

Each day, a new prompt will be shared, offering participants inspiration to create something festive and engaging. While writers are encouraged to follow the prompts in order, they may use them as flexible starting points for their work.

You do not need to use all the prompts for the day. Just use as much as you need to get the juices flowing.

While there is no strict word limit, all entries should demonstrate thought and effort.

Collaborative entries are welcome, provided all collaborators adhere to the same guidelines.

If you have any questions, please feel free to send @creators-club a question.

@bardic-tales @megandaisy9 @watermeezer @littleshopofchaos

@kricketbee

@themaradwrites @pinkevilwriter

@serenofroses @asirensrage @aalinaaaaaa @goldenlilium-ocs @glbettwrites

@wyked-ao3 @badscientist @thebadphilosopher @andromedalestrange

@fantastictrashpolice @seastarblue @happypup-kitcat24 @chickensarentcheap @allaboutmagic

@ryns-ramblings @kathaliabloodyrose @riemmetric @andromedaexists @kckramer

@tales-from-nocturnaliss @pastelpinkhobbies @idonthaveapenname @the-bar-sinister @rosesonkittens

@bloodred2023 @kanobarlowe @aquixoticwrites @new-royston-cursebreakers

@rosemirmir @salmonandfox @fablesandfragments @paganmindidnothingwrong @elshells

@viscerawrites @ellowynthenotking @dawsonskyelar @greenapplespider

@edupunkn00b @the-duke-of-nuts @exclawshou @karkkidoeswriting @meerawrites

@theglitchywriterboi @mayarab @memento-morianon @mrsmungus

@pebblesfromtheshore

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ducksido · 25 days ago

Note

This is my first time making a request, and I've seen a few of your culture!yuu posts. I enjoyed reading them a lot. I was wondering if you could make a post about a polish!yuu, if you have and find the time to do it. Please don't feel pressured to do it!

Polish!Yuu

Crowley

“Did you just bless my office with holy water?”

Simultaneously impressed and terrified by their fearless attitude.

Gets guilt-tripped into letting them cook in the dorm kitchens.

Grim

Lives for their food. "Those pierogi things? Give me twenty."

He learned the word “kurwa” and now says it constantly. They have regrets.

Trein

Very intrigued by their knowledge of Polish history and literature. Gets emotional when they talk about Chopin.

Lowkey touched when Yuu politely greets him like he's an elder relative.

Vargas

Blown away by their stamina and ability to wrestle wild magical beasts like it’s no big deal.

“You wrestled a chimera and said ‘it reminded you of Polish winters’? What??”

Crewel

Obsessed with their bold patterns and Catholic grandmother-inspired fashion.

Secretly takes notes when Yuu shows up in a perfectly layered winter outfit.

Sam

Fascinated by their superstitions and home remedies.

Starts selling jars of pickled mushrooms after Yuu convinces everyone they "heal everything."

Heartslabyul

Riddle

Deeply unsettled by Dyngus Day. “You...dump water on people...for fun?”

Admires their structured holiday traditions. Thinks Wigilia is very charming.

Ace

Teases them by mispronouncing Polish words. Nearly gets body slammed.

Finds them funny as hell when they start cursing in Polish mid-chaos.

Deuce

Thinks their family-centered values are beautiful. Tries to memorize Polish phrases to impress them.

Genuinely loves their food, especially gołąbki.

Trey

Wants all their family recipes. Learns how to make sernik (Polish cheesecake) from them and never goes back.

Cater

Uses “Polish-core aesthetic” for a photo shoot after seeing Yuu in a traditional folk outfit.

Is scared of their blunt comebacks. “Okay wow, that’s a roast and a blessing??”

Savanaclaw

Leona

Totally respects their stubbornness and refusal to bow to anyone. Calls them “Little Lion.”

“You once fought off what in a forest?” “Wild boars.” “Damn.”

Ruggie

Gets along swimmingly. They bond over poverty meals and survival instincts.

Trades fried pierogi for donuts. It's a win-win.

Jack

Likes their no-nonsense, proud-of-their-roots vibe.

Hikes with them and gets annihilated when they start climbing like a goat in the Tatra Mountains.

Octavinelle

Azul

Initially tries to manipulate them. Regrets it immediately.

“In Poland we have a saying: ‘Don’t try to con a Polish grandma, she’ll hex you.’”

Their kompot becomes a Lounge drink special.

Jade

Very interested in their mushroom foraging knowledge. They swap tips like they're trading secrets in a spy movie.

Floyd

Thinks Dyngus Day is the best thing ever. Goes feral with a hose.

Calls Yuu “Little Firecracker” after they sock a guy for insulting their dumplings.

Scarabia

Kalim

LOVES their festive spirit. “You guys make a second Christmas dinner??”

Absolutely throws a Polish-themed party. It’s chaos.

Jamil

Relates to the “eldest daughter syndrome” vibes Polish!Yuu radiates.

Can’t believe how spicy their horseradish is. Sheds a tear.

Pomefiore

Vil

Sceptical of their “rustic look” at first, but after seeing them in traditional Polish dress? Impressed.

“You braid your hair for Christmas? That’s…kinda iconic.”

Rook

OBSESSED. “Ah, mon petit miracle polonais!” Immediately fascinated by their folklore.

Stalks them during Andrzejki fortune telling night.

Epel

Thinks they’re so cool. They wrestled pigs as a kid too?? Besties.

They start cursing together in Polish and Yuu teaches him how to make kielbasa.

Ignihyde

Idia

Is shocked when they’re a walking survival manual and a gamer.

“Wait, you guys made The Witcher? You’re instantly 900% cooler.”

Ortho

Reads up on Polish inventions and gets very excited. “Did you know about the Polish space program??”

Asks Yuu to teach him Polish tongue twisters for fun.

Diasomnia

Malleus

Deeply respects their reverence for family and tradition. Totally gets the old soul energy.

Loves that Poland’s national symbol is a white eagle. Approves.

Lilia

Knows a suspiciously large amount about Polish wars and uprisings.

Duels Yuu in a pierogi cook-off. It’s intense. (Who am I kidding? Its a guaranteed lose for Lilia)

Silver

Thinks Wigilia is beautiful. Falls asleep listening to their childhood Christmas stories.

Sebek

Tries to insult them. They hit back with a Polish proverb so powerful he malfunctions.

“In Poland, we say: ‘Not my circus, not my monkeys.’ Keep your drama, Sebek.”

RSA & Noble Bell College

Chenya

Thinks Polish legends are sick. “The Wawel Dragon? That’s metal as hell.”

Neige

Loves their traditional dance and music. Tries to copy a mazurka. Trips.

Rollo

Mildly frightened by how Catholic they are.

“You sprinkle holy water on people... casually?”

Extras

Teaches everyone the Polish art of passive-aggressive kindness.

Makes the entire school say “Na zdrowie!” after sneezing.

Has threatened multiple people with a rolling pin and no one questions it anymore.

Introduces everyone to Polish ghost stories. NRC sleeps with lights on for a week.

Welcoming Polish!Yuu

First Impressions from the Others

French!Yuu – “Your poetry is gorgeous. So tragic. So romantic. So… death.” Romanian!Yuu – “Tell me your ghost stories. I’ll tell you mine.” Greek!Yuu – “You have gods and monsters too? Slavic folklore goes hard.” Czech!Yuu – “We’re cousins in chaos and trauma. Let’s bond over haunted forests and sarcastic jokes.” Hungarian!Yuu – “Our histories align in pain and power. Let’s not talk about it—just drink and cook.” Italian!Yuu – “You’re quiet… until someone insults your cooking. Then you go full war mode.” Mexican!Yuu – “You honor your dead like we do. It’s beautiful. And kinda spooky.” Brazilian!Yuu – “You guys throw Christmas parties in the snow? I’m not built for that, bro.” Aboriginal!Yuu – “You carry your people’s resilience in your silence. I see that.” South Georgia!Yuu – “Sugar, you look like you’ve seen generations of ghosts. You okay?” Egyptian!Yuu – “I respect ancient strength. Yours comes in the form of grandmothers and folklore.” Pakistani!Yuu – “You’re lowkey terrifying and I love that about you.” Aussie!Yuu – “You say this is fine while surrounded by chaos. Iconic.” Florida Man!Yuu – “You’re quiet but I just know you’ve got the wildest family stories. Spill.” Filipino!Yuu – “You also believe in curses and old spirits? I feel so seen.” Indonesian!Yuu – “Your respect for tradition is so cool. Also, I heard your pickles slap.” Malay!Yuu – “You’re the kind of person who’d laugh during a horror movie. We should hang out.” Thai!Yuu – “Wait, your grandmas throw shoes? Same here.” Vietnamese!Yuu – “You eat soup in cold weather. I eat soup in hot weather. We’re both valid.” Chinese!Yuu – “You have dumplings and tea. I like you already.” Indian!Yuu – “Your spice tolerance is surprising. I approve.” Japanese!Yuu – “You value respect, heritage, and silence. I think we’d understand each other.” Jamaican!Yuu – “You say less but your eyes say everything. I vibe with that.” Sicilian!Yuu – “You have a look that says you know where the bodies are buried. I like that.” Irish!Yuu – “You drink like a legend and curse like a saint. Soulmate.” Scottish!Yuu – “You and I could overthrow a government with two glares and a rolling pin.” Quebecois!Yuu – “You’ve got rebellion in your blood, don’t you?” Welsh!Yuu – “Your folklore is wild. Let’s compare dragons and death spirits.” Austrian!Yuu – “You're the only one I trust to sit in silence with. No awkwardness. Just vibes.” Louisiana!Yuu – “You believe in curses, spirits, and putting butter in everything. Instant besties.” Swedish!Yuu – “We both have terrifying winters and old legends. Let’s bond over coffee and ghosts.”

How Polish!Yuu Fits In

A quiet force of nature. Polish!Yuu doesn’t speak unless they mean it. But when they do? The room listens.

Folklore heavy. They’ve got everything from forest witches to haunted salt mines. They share legends with Romanian!Yuu, Thai!Yuu, and Filipino!Yuu like trading cards.

Food-based love. Dumplings, soups, stews, cabbage rolls—they show love through meals and side-eyes if you don’t eat seconds.

Unshakeable patience. They’ve endured long winters, tougher family holidays, and neighbors who won't return casserole dishes. They do not crack easily.

Soft inside, spiky outside. They'll knit you a scarf and threaten anyone who hurts you. Probably with a ladle.

Who They Vibe With

Romanian!Yuu, Czech!Yuu, Hungarian!Yuu – Slavic solidarity, spooky storytelling, and passive-aggressive baking. Filipino!Yuu, Indonesian!Yuu, Malay!Yuu – Mutual understanding of spirits, superstition, and loud aunties. Irish!Yuu & Scottish!Yuu – Dry humor, darker jokes, and the ability to drink while plotting rebellions. Egyptian!Yuu & Greek!Yuu – Deep roots, reverence for ancestors, and shared chaos in ancient culture. Swedish!Yuu & Austrian!Yuu – Quiet, practical, and able to speak without words.

Final Thoughts

Polish!Yuu may come in like a whisper, but they leave an impression like a storm. They're a solid friend, a brilliant cook, and a source of folk wisdom that ranges from oddly comforting to spine-chilling. Whether they’re telling you a story, feeding you dumplings, or standing beside you in silence when things get rough—Polish!Yuu is the heart you never expected but always needed in the Culture!Yuu family.

#twst x reader #twst #twst wonderland #twst yuu #twst incorrect quotes #culture!yuu #twst headcanons

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ellitx · 6 months ago

Text

Chapter 20: Wind's Soliloquy

𝗖𝗵𝗮𝗽𝘁𝗲𝗿 𝗹𝗶𝘀𝘁

previous || next

art belongs to: srr_yo

word count: 6.3k

The rain had been pouring ever since. It never seemed to stop but it was not strong and heavy, fortunately. Yet the frequent raindrops made the land so gloomy as if the Hydro Archon was crying for days.

A young maiden ran towards a nearby shelter, her shoes stepping on the muddy field and forming a small splash with each stride. Alas, she shielded herself from the cold droplets.

The flowers in her arms were wet yet they still retained their shape and form. As much as she wanted to complain and scream at the sky for ruining her journey, she feared the Anemo Archon may hear her and punish her for saying such unthinkable things.

She sighed disappointingly. Her fingers buried against the bouquet and held it tightly close to her. Her trip near the tower’s entrance had a purpose. She wasn’t aimlessly wandering, nor was she just a citizen passing through.

No, she was here to ask for blessing from her nation’s god and his beloved. Legend has said if you offer an offering near the entrance, your wishes will be heeded. Of course, at first, she had doubts. There was no such thing as miracles. But she took back her word when an unbelievable and impossible incident became possible.

Shortly after Ludi Harpastum, a festival of joy and celebration, a calamity struck. A massive storm surged. Houses were damaged, and the once vibrant fields lay ravaged. The disaster had devastated her family's home. Thankfully, the Knights of Favonius offered to let the victims stay at their headquarters for the meantime while they restore the city. And one thing she noticed, in particular, was how frequently the villagers are going outside the city to travel to the old broken tower.

At first, she thought of it as simply gathering materials and the like. And her friends were tagging along with them, so she didn’t pay too much attention to it. But when those expeditions had become nothing with no result, she had grown suspicious.

Everyone was bringing flowers, wines, and food.

What were those for? That was the first thing she asked her mother after she returned to her “expedition”. Her mother smiled tiredly, patting her head affectionately before she motioned her to sit next to her.

It seemed the offerings were meant to seek favor from the Anemo Archon.

“By offering gifts and prayers to Lord Barbatos and his beloved, the city will be restored.”

The daughter’s eyebrows scrunched together, her doubts growing further. “But will that really work? We can’t just simply sit still and pray then— poof!” She raised her arms, motioning them slowly like acting out an explosion, “Everything will magically return to normal,” she continued before flopping back to the edge of the bed.

“Oh, you silly girl!” Her mother pulled her to her chest and playfully messed her hair which earned her a huff, but a lighthearted one which the mother fondly recognizes.

The giggles and laughter died shortly as the dawn of silence took over the room. The candle was their only source of light and despite the poor lighting, she could easily notice there’s something on her mother’s mind that’s been distracting her.

“Mom?” She called out. Her mother’s eyes flickered before snapping her gaze to her and forcing a smile.

“It’s getting late, love. Do you want to hear a bedtime story?”

It was ridiculous. Laughable even, that her mother just offered to tell her bedtime stories when she’s already in her teens.

“I think I’ll pass. I’m too old already for bedtime stories,” she replied, trying to lighten the atmosphere with a playful grin. “Who said you’re too ‘old’ for bedtime stories?” The mother feigned shock, her tone higher than before.

She chuckled, shaking her head at her mother's antics. “Mom, you know what I mean. I’m sixteen!”

Her mother's expression softened, a flicker of sadness in her eyes that didn't go unnoticed. “You'll always be my little one, no matter how old you are.”

The daughter’s heart tugged in guilt then sighed in defeat. Whether it’s because her mother was manipulating her feelings or not, she’s unable to resist her pleading gaze. “F-fine, I wouldn’t mind hearing another story as long as it’s you telling me.” The woman smiled widely and supported her weight by resting her face on her palm.

“Legend tells of a corner of the city that has been forgotten by the wind.”

Her fingers brushed over her hair, tucking it behind her daughter’s ear whilst lovingly gazing at her, taking notes of the changes in her features. She knows her mother is being sentimental again over how quickly she grows. She understands those sentiments yet it’s best not to speak of the topic and make it depressing when the blitheness was there a minute ago.

“To reach that place, one must stand before the fountain and close their eyes, then wait for thirty-five heartbeats, then walk seven circles clockwise around the fountain followed by seven further circles anticlockwise. Upon opening one's eyes, one will find they have arrived at a little shop…”

The daughter closed her eyes and let her ears envelop the tune of her kin’s soft voice. Time had slowed down between them. It was only her and her mother together in this lone room with a single stalk of candle. She didn’t mind. After all, her voice was calming and soothing.

She didn’t exactly remember when and how it happened. Because by the time she woke up and heard ruckus and clamor outside of the Favonius’s Headquarters, her eyes couldn’t believe what she saw.

Everything was restored. As if the aftermath of the storm wasn’t there from the beginning… Everyone was cheering, crying, applauding, and gathering at the plaza where the statue of the nation’s god stands. She didn’t bother changing her clothes and doing her morning routine.

She needs to understand— know— what in the world just happened. Pushing and squeezing her lithe frame against the closely packed multitude, she looked for any familiar faces to answer her horde of questions that began to bubble over her head.

She called out to her friend and finally freed herself from the applauding audience to stand next to her friend.

The girl's friend turned with a wide grin, their eyes reflecting the joyous atmosphere. "Can you believe it? It's like a miracle! The city is restored!"

"But how?" she questioned, her eyes scanning the crowd for anyone who might have answers.

"Rumors say it was the Anemo Archon himself," they replied, pointing towards the statue of the god. "They say he granted our prayers and restored our home."

She gazed at the statue, still skeptical of the sudden turn of events. “Wh-what are you talking about?” Her lips stuttered, unable to fathom their collective and unanimous praise.

The corner of the friend's lips trembled. Their hands were shaking even if it was already on the girl's shoulder. She could feel them shaking— shaking like a scared dog but there was a big grin on their face.

“The Anemo Archon forgave us of our sins.”

That was the last thing she heard. The mutual and unified cries of the civilians, priests, and nuns, all together as they clasped their hands to one to honor and pray for their lord.

But something felt amiss, a whisper of doubt amidst the jubilation. Why would the Anemo Archon intervene now? What sins were they being forgiven for? The questions swirled in her mind, leaving a lingering unease.

If it was indeed the Anemo Archon's doing, she couldn't help but feel grateful. Yet, she wondered what had truly transpired. The mystery of the sudden restoration only deepened her curiosity.

But days after days of trying to uncover the truth, all of those doubts are nothing but a disguise for her lack of faith in her god. She was just being an unfaithful devotee of Lord Barbatos. How could she? And she truly felt remorseful and guilty for having doubts of the Anemo Archon’s capabilities.

He had saved their nation more than once aside from the recent events of the storm, and that was enough for her to be grateful to him. If it truly was a blessing from the Anemo Archon, a miracle of wherein she can believe in it, then please…

The bouquet in her hold was settled on the concrete flooring. She ignored the raindrops collecting into the fabric of her blouse, focusing on her prayers and her prayers alone. Her fingers clasped together, intertwining into a tight grip as she muted out every noise, every raindrop.

“Oh, Anemo Archon. I do not wish for anything but for the good health of my mother. I implore you to please guard her against illness and adversity,” she whispered fervently, her voice barely audible over the patter of the rain.

Her mother had always been her pillar of strength, her unwavering support. The thought of losing her was too much to bear. So, with her heart heavy with worry, she offered her prayers to the divine, seeking protection and healing for her loved one.

—

The tempest of the snowstorm was undoubtedly so cold that even his cloak was not enough for him to provide the warmth he sought. Venti peeked over the window of his room, watching over the tower looming over them so ominously.

A little jingling was heard next to him and it was enough to recognize who it was even if he was not looking where his little friend was.

“We are so close to the outside world…” He mumbled to himself, vigilant eyes unfaltering as if he was fighting against the mere stack of bricks. “And tomorrow we’re going to face Decarabian…” He shifted his gaze to the figure sleeping on the other side of the bed.

The little wisp levitated over to him slowly and tilted its head before letting out another chime of jingle. Venti chuckled and lightly patted the two little sprouts sticking out of its head.

“I’m not afraid,” He replied. “But I am afraid of losing her…”

He glanced at the sleeping figure once more, a wave of emotions crashing within him. The weight of the impending battle was heavy on his shoulders, but his love for her, and his determination to protect her, was even heavier. The wind stirred outside, a reminder of his responsibility to liberate the nation, but in this quiet moment, his thoughts were only for her.

Barbatos’s two dotted white eyes squeezed, reassuring his friend as he twirled over to you and gave another set of ringing. He patiently waited if he had another word to say, but it was enough of an indication when the wisp returned to lodge next to him. Venti easily deciphered what he was saying:

“I may be a wisp, but I will do everything in my power to protect the both of you.”

His eyes creased before he cupped his hands and gently lifted Barbatos so they could see each other eye to eye. “Thank you. That means a lot. I started this rebellion myself and I’d be willing to do anything. However…”

The young bard briefly paused, staring absently at where you lay and Barbatos followed his gaze. It was not unusual for Venti to be deep in his thoughts. With how they have often been together, it’s one characteristic of him that Barbatos took notice of.

But unlike his deep pondering, within his deep blue eyes he could see swirls of uneasiness. Eyes of worry lost in contemplation, reflected a storm of concern. The furrowed brow framed windows into a troubled mind, where the weight of thoughts etched delicate lines around the eyes. In their depths, shadows danced, revealing a tumultuous sea of unease. The gaze, once bright, now carried a subdued flicker, like embers struggling against the encroaching darkness.

Barbatos was quiet but he slowly approached his friend and flew over his shoulder. The wisp already knew what was bothering him, but he didn’t break the silence. Rather, he let the silence consume them.

He already knew this war would be a matter of life and death. Full of bloodshed and ruthless crashing of swords and greatswords all for the sake of freedom. They had lost several allies, what more if Venti loses you?

What more if you lose him?

Venti bitterly laughed to himself, catching Barbatos off-guard. He wanted to soothe his friend, but the cold sweat running over to the nape of Venti’s neck and the clenching of his fist over to his shorts was enough to come to a conclusion: Venti was scared.

How come when he’s this close— they’re so close, he began to cower? He prepared himself in and out. From days to weeks, weeks to months, he led and planned everything with precision. Did he doubt his capabilities? Or was he scared they would never obtain freedom? Perhaps the weight of responsibility pressed harder than he let on.

The impending battle with Decarabian, a foe of colossal proportions, bore down on him. The prospect of facing an archaic power, an entity that once ruled over Mondstadt, sent shivers down even the god of freedom’s spine.

Venti cast a sidelong glance at the peacefully slumbering figure beside him. In the quiet of the room, the rhythmic rise and fall of your chest served as a stark reminder of what he stood to lose. The very thought of harm befalling you awakened a vulnerability he tried to bury beneath the bravado.

He sighed, a mix of frustration and self-awareness. The war-torn history and the battles fought in the shadows, all led to this moment. Yet, the proximity of his friend, the one who anchored him, uncovered a layer of trepidation he never fully acknowledged.

The little wisp fluttered near him, its tiny form a manifestation of loyalty. It chimed softly, a melody of encouragement. Venti managed a rueful smile, realizing that even Barbatos wasn’t immune to the currents of fear and doubt. The approaching conflict, an inevitable clash with the remnants of a bygone era, hung heavy in the air.

Perhaps it was fate upon meeting two important people, in Barbatos’s life; and never did he foresee he’d forge a deeper relationship with them.

Amidst the raging storms, he thought he would never be heard but alas there a boy clad in a dark cloak with a lyre in his hand appeared in front of him.

“Barbatos,” he called. “If anything happens to me, protect [Name] for me, alright?” Venti stood up from his seat and discreetly walked over to your bed. Barbatos watched from a distance. The bard’s hand gently brushed over your tousled locks as he lovingly smoothed the disarray of strands.

Venti's eyes held a tenderness, a silent promise etched within the gentle caress. The room was filled with a hushed intimacy, interrupted only by the soft rustle of hair beneath his fingers. He delicately gathered a handful of your hair, the strands flowing through his fingers like silken threads. Holding them close to his lips, he pressed a tender kiss upon them.

“Watch over her. Promise me that. Please…”

Barbatos, observing this silent exchange, nodded in understanding. The air in the room seemed to shimmer with an unspoken bond, a connection that transcended the uncertainties of the impending conflict.

—

Freedom. That’s all that matters. That’s all that matters to the people of Mond. Freedom is everything to them, and if it were to be taken from them, they would rebel and fight for it to get what is rightfully theirs.

That is what everyone fought for. That is what Venti fought for when the tyrant locked them up. And that freedom is what he promised to seek for his dearly beloved.

The promise… That’s right, the promise.

Barbatos made a promise to his friend: to guard and keep you safe from your father’s wrath. That he achieved. He did not need any of those extravagant praises from everyone, or a luxurious celebration that he protected the last survivor of the royal family. Your love and attention were enough for him as his honorarium, and if his plans went smoothly, then he couldn’t ask for more than your presence.

But what about his promise to you? Not as Venti, not as Barbatos the Anemo Archon, but as Barbatos the wind wisp. He faintly recalled from his memories, vague echoes of your voice ringing in his head to protect your dear. He could hear your cries, he could vision your tearful face, and he could smell the faint aroma of smoke and blood from the past.

“Barbatos, please. Protect Venti…”

He stood at the precipice of conflicting roles, torn between the weight of his promise to the girl he cherished and the duty he bore as the Anemo Archon. The memories of her pleas echoed through the chambers of his mind, each word a poignant reminder of the sacrifice she had made.

As he prepared for the impending battle against Decarabian, Barbatos couldn't shake the dual nature of his existence. The freedom he had fought for was now intertwined with the personal pledge he made to safeguard Venti—the mortal guise he wore to be closer to you.

The wind wisp, a manifestation of his divine essence, hovered beside him, a silent witness to the internal struggle. Barbatos knew that protecting Venti meant more than shielding the bard from physical harm; it meant preserving the essence of the person he had become through his interactions with you.

The wind wisp chimed softly, a comforting melody that seemed to say, "I'll protect what you hold dear." At that moment, Barbatos made a silent vow to honor both promises—to secure the freedom of Mondstadt and to shield the vulnerable heart of the bard who had become an inseparable part of his divine existence.

Yet no matter how much he convinced himself that he still preserved the life of Venti for all these years, those were merely pathetic excuses he gave to himself that he was unable to protect him. That was the harsh truth he wished to never know. The harsh truth he often ran away from. The harsh truth is the least he wanted you to know. And because of that harsh truth, you will never be able to uphold your promise to Venti to travel the world with him.

You were living a life of lies.

“I hate you,”

Such vile words escaped from your delicate lips, coated with nothing but hatred. All love was lost and diminished. Resentment smoldered within you, a slow-burning fire that refused to be extinguished.

“I hate you!”

Three venomous words stung into his heart and soul. His eyes, once alight with the sparkle of mischief, were now dimmed by the torrent of tears that streamed down his ethereal face. He reached out his hand to you as tears cascaded down like a torrent.

“[Name], no… Don’t leave me, please!”

His voice cracked, carrying the weight of a thousand heartbreaks. His outstretched hand trembled, fingers desperately reaching for something that was slipping away.

The once carefree Anemo Archon was now a broken deity, his essence shattered by the cruelty of your hatred.

“No, no, no!! Don’t leave me! Don’t leave me here!!”

His chest heaved with sobs, each tear a testament to the agony that consumed him. The celestial realm seemed to weep alongside him, mirroring the storm within his soul.

Barbatos jolted upright in bed, gasping for breath. The echoes of your anguished words still reverberated in his ears, a haunting melody that refused to fade. The room felt oppressive, shadows dancing on the walls like spectral remnants of the nightmare that had gripped him.

His chest heaved as he tried to dispel the lingering emotions from the dream. The remnants of your hatred clung to him, a weight that threatened to drown him in a sea of regret. The moon cast a soft glow through the window, a stark contrast to the turmoil that had unfolded in the dream.

With trembling hands, Barbatos wiped the cold sweat from his forehead, realizing that he had been pulled into the depths of a waking nightmare. The images of your tears and the venomous words hung in the air, a phantom reality that felt too close for comfort.

He whipped his head and cast his eyes promptly into the quiet room until they landed on a maiden deep in her slumber. Barbatos sighed in relief and for a moment, he simply sat there, the silence broken only by the erratic rhythm of his heartbeat. The nightmare had been a cruel reminder of the consequences of his choices, a vivid manifestation of the fears that lingered in the recesses of his heart.

The lies Barbatos had forged for years were now haunting him. The lies that shielded you from the brutal reality all for the sake of selfish love. Barbatos had meticulously woven a tapestry of deception to protect you from the burden of his divine obligations, but mostly from his growing sick and obsessive love for you.

You still haven’t discovered he was the new Anemo Archon until the blonde traveler told you everything about him during the night of the Ludi Harpastum festival. Barbatos scoffed, recalling how you were so caught off guard when the truth finally surfaced after you were separated from him. If only that pesky traveler and his fairy companion just minded their own business, he wouldn't need to cast you into a deep yet tranquil slumber.

With great reluctance, he drew himself up and looked at the girl who held a very special place in his heart. You’ve brought so much joy and happiness to his life, not to mention more laughter than anyone else ever could. To see you seething with anger and searing pain would bring a weight on his chest like nothing else.

Barbatos slowly embraced your hand to his, slipping his fingers in between, and softly brushed his lips along your knuckles, kissing each of them one by one. His vision blurred as his gaze wandered towards your angelic features, but a sudden pang of panic gripped his heart.

“I didn’t knock her hard, have I?” he asked himself, his mind suddenly clouded with worry. The archon sighed deeply, berating himself over his unplanned actions. It was fortunate he still knew how to wield his powers and put you to sleep. He just hoped he didn’t dose you too much where it’ll take you years for you to wake up. He could only hope you’ll wake up soon, otherwise he might throw another outburst in Mondstadt.

You've always brought light into his world and filled him with warmth. In a matter of minutes, you've managed to affect him in ways he never thought possible. He exhaled deeply and closed his eyes tightly, replaying the many times he found comfort in your arms or gave him a loving smile. There were many things he would like to say, but for now, his turbulent state of mind is not helping him.

Barbatos groaned in frustration, ruffling his head in sheer irritation. It took every ounce of strength within him to restrain himself from throttling some ignorant traveler. Those ungrateful bastards deserve to pay dearly for ruining his precious morning.

His rigid frame softened and he shook his head in an attempt to clear his thoughts. Barbatos slumped on the floor next to you and hugged his knees.

As if afraid to wake up, it feels like a waste to even blink within this dream. And to think that the other side of the sky is so vast… Does he deserve this ending?

Sometimes some things can’t be helped. While wounded by his own helplessness, the present in all its clumsiness, is changing into a brilliance of fabric reality.

The more I protect it, the more it looks fragile. And the more I steal it, the more I want it…

Barbatos sighed, the weight of his internal conflict bearing down on him. You’re everything to him—his source of strength, his light in the darkness, and the light at the end of the tunnel he was always seeking. The guilt that slowly piled upon him like countless millstones on a tree of regret and the past memories won’t let him move forward, hindering him from doing what’s right.

He knew you deserved better than what he had given you. He’s been hiding a lot of things from you: his identity, his status as an archon, and even the death of Venti.

Barbatos tugged his hair tighter, his frustration palpable in the agitated movements. He couldn't escape the relentless truth that bound him — because to you, Barbatos was merely your wisp friend. He was not the Anemo Archon, and certainly not the free-spirited bard.

It frustrates me because I can’t be him and it begins to burn at my throat.

Biting his lips, blood drew out. How cruel was he to decide to pose as your lover? He only wanted to be loved, cherished, and adored. To hide behind masks of illusions and cruelty? It’s not what you deserve.

He clutched at his chest as if trying to quell the searing pain that echoed through his heart. The memories of carefree days as Venti taunted him like elusive specters. The laughter, the music, the unburdened joy — they felt like distant echoes mocking him in his current divine form.

Barbatos needs you. Venti needs you. He fumblingly sauntered to your bed and gently opened his palms, caressing your soft skin. He felt a newborn warmth along him.

The deceptive dance of his identity left him feeling vulnerable. The looming possibility that you might leave him once you wake up and still remember the truth was a haunting specter. Every moment spent with you was tinged with the fear of losing the connection he so desperately craved. For now, everything is falling into place. He'll continue to act as him even if it means to deceive you. But that won't ever happen again, he'll be careful— cautious— about everything he does around you. The past will never haunt him anymore. It will never touch you.

You will never know. It was all a dream. A nightmare. But it's better not to mention anything of what happened that night, isn't it? It's the best and safest option. The world that should be smiling kindly to you and his friend reverted to his direction, taking their wishes that were never his from the beginning.

There’s a place he yearns for but can never reach. The place he wants so much but can never grasp. He almost forgot to wish when he gazed in the distance.

In his tightly clenched fist, his heartbeat is heating up again. Leaning down, he rested his head against your stomach and closed his eyes, breathing in the same pattern as yours in rhythm.

“I love you,” he whispered, fluttering his lashes to where you lay and gazing at you oh so lovingly. His fingers trickled to your arm, clinging and clutching, before traveling to your bare neck. “You love me too, right, [Name]? You’ve always said you love me.”

He crawled over you, his physique looming over your comatose state. His teal irises glittered as he peered closely at your sleeping face. His lips curved upwards in a smile before pressing a soft kiss on your forehead.

That dreamless sleep, the veil between worlds will fall aside. His lingering touch, beaming with emotions he wasn’t aware of, glistening with affection, reverence, and lust all at once, creating a warm nimbus aura around his body. All while his unguarded words formed something like a prayer.

“Oh love, you’re so pretty… so tender, and so beautiful.”

His slender finger gently traced the contours of your face, tracing every outline of the contour of your nose, cheeks, and lastly lips. It lingered for more than a few seconds. He leaned in, slowly and carefully. He stared at you and let them blur as he stroked your cheeks.

There was no response, not even an inkling of recognition or reaction.

He exhaled shakily, taking off any remorse or guilt left in his conscience, and pressed his lips against yours. He savored the sweet taste that lingered on your dry lips.

I love you, I love you, I love you…

Despite their parched state, he paid no mind, lost in the intoxicating essence of your embrace. His kiss was light and soft, yet it held a fervent passion as if the dryness of your lips only intensified the craving for the delectable flavor he found there.

I love you so much, [Name]. The things you do to me…

With a happy sigh, he closed his eyes and relished every bit of your breath, wanting nothing more than to get drunk on its sweetness. Barbatos slowly pulled away, his lips tugging your bottom lip before it bounced back to its place. He panted, blinking for a few moments.

A kiss with you has always been his favorite, and it didn’t take too long for him to know he wanted more because shortly he went back and connected his lips with yours again.

A kiss here, and another kiss, and another, and another. It went on a cycle, an endless loop that he didn't even know how long he had been kissing you repeatedly. So sweet. So enticing. One short kiss after another, he wanted to engrave this in his mind.

With every passionate lip-lock, he became more obsessed. In all honesty, he felt that he would die if he stopped, the taste still lingering in his mouth and permeating through his whole being. You’re the ethereal drug, a celestial intoxication that transports him to heavenly realms.

Barbatos, feeling an unsettling shift in the air, abruptly sensed an intruder nearing the ancient ruins and broke the kiss. He gritted his teeth and summoned swift wind spirits to investigate the entrance. Their ethereal forms swirled with urgency as they darted towards the source of the disturbance.

Whoever dared to step foot in here will not be spared. He already warned them if they wish to be spared from his wrath. The archon's eyes, usually serene, now flickered with an intensity born of both irritation and vigilance as he awaited the wind spirits' report.

Upon checking, a lone maiden was standing near the wind barriers. She placed the bouquet of Cecilia flowers on the altar created by the Church for their offerings.

"For Mondstadt, as always. For the verdant plains, for the hills, and for the forests of Mondstadt. May they continue to flourish, as always. For Mondstadt, as always. For the everlasting freedom of Mondstadt from the blizzard and the tyrant, whose coldness and oppression are one and the same.”

What a peculiar girl letting herself drenched in rain. The rain was strong and despite the bad weather, she still offered her prayers to him.

“Oh, Anemo Archon. I do not wish for anything but for the good health of my mother. I implore you to please guard her against illness and adversity,”

Her prayers echoed in his ears. Barbatos crossed his arms and watched her from afar through the eyes of the spirit he cast. A lot of things have changed in Mondstadt. The city, the village, and even Stormterror’s Lair where he currently resides with you.

He didn’t pay any particular attention to the changes outside of the ruins. But he did notice many of his people frequently visited this area to pray and ask for their blessings. Perhaps someone from the Church must have noticed him and thought this was his abode, and decided to create a shrine here, but also making sure it won’t ever disturb him.

It’s been a while since Ludi Harpastum ended. He didn’t want to admit it but he’s been counting the days since you’ve been asleep. From minutes to hours, hours to days, and days to weeks, he never left your side. But he didn’t merely sulk in the corner, waiting for signs of you waking up. Unlike before, he decided to terraform the ruins to make it more to your liking.

He remembers very well that you love the garden of the manor, so he made a special area for you. He remembers you love your library in the tower, so he prepared lots of books for you to read. He remembers the fountain you’d always whisper your wishes at, so he built it for you. All these things he had done, he did it for you while he waited for you to open your eyes.

The very essence of his being intertwined with the elements, breathing life into the desolate ruins. As he lifted his hands, a harmonious dance of nature began.

The once crumbling tower regained its majestic stature, rising from the ground as if it had never suffered the scars of time. Petals of vibrant flowers cascaded in a gentle descent, wrapping around the structure like a colorful embrace. An intricate tapestry of blossoms adorned the surroundings, replacing the debris and rubble with a carpet of nature's beauty.

The Anemo Archon had woven a tapestry of renewal and growth, turning the dilapidated ruins into a sanctuary of life and vitality. The air was filled with the sweet fragrance of blossoms, and the ambiance echoed the melody of his power, a testament to the god's ability to shape the very fabric of the world.

He made the once rubbled, stormy lair into a sanctuary haven for his dear. It’s his gift for you that once you’re awake, you’ll dance around with him and live the life with him you’ve always dreamed of.

He must admit though, the shrine built by the Church of Favonius was exceptionally well made and further enhanced the beauty of this sanctuary. Barbatos sighed, contemplating if he should aid the young girl by sheltering her. He never meant to become a ruthless archon and that is far from his ideals.

His drastic change was all because of Aether. Of course, it was him. He’s too smart for his own good and Barbatos hates how quick he is to catch on to his relationship with you. But he’s here to change everything. So if he wanted to make a good image as an archon to his people, then so be it. After all, he only wanted your perception of him and that’s all he cares about. Nothing more, nothing else.

He’ll make everything right this time. If you see him as reliable and trustworthy, then he’ll be loved by you. Finally taking his decision, he ordered his little spirits to guide the girl to find shelter. As for her prayers…

Barbatos is no genie. He couldn’t guarantee all of his followers’ prayers. He’s not like the Dendro Archon who could cure illnesses…

He sighed, the weight of his responsibilities settling on his shoulders. Being an archon was not a walk in the park. The expectations of the people, the intricacies of diplomacy with other nations, the constant struggle to maintain balance—all of it took its toll. Barbatos couldn't afford to let his guard down.

News about his rampage must have reached his neighboring countries and he doesn’t want another burden to be added to his already tumultuous situation. As he watched the wind spirits guide the girl to safety, he couldn't help but feel the isolation that came with his position.

The tower, now restored, stood as a symbol of his power, but it also harbored the secrets he desperately wanted to keep hidden. Aether's presence had disrupted the delicate equilibrium he had crafted, forcing him to confront the challenges that came with being both a god and a man.

His thoughts circled back to you. Would you ever understand the complexities of his existence? The burden he carried for Mondstadt and its people? As the archon, he had to maintain an image, but beneath the divine facade, there was a being struggling with the desire for love and understanding. He also wanted you to see him as Barbatos.

Not the Anemo Archon, but simply Barbatos, a young man who loves you through Celestia and Teyvat. Who harbored feelings for you for millennia.

He shook off his inner turmoil, his eyes focusing on the horizon beyond the borders of the sanctuary. The wind carried whispers of prayers, and he knew he couldn't fulfill them all. The duties of an archon were exceptionally hard, and the struggles were his to bear. The winds howled in response, a melancholic melody echoing the challenges he faced.

He sighed for the nth time, exhaustion began to creep over him. He placed the back of his hand over to his head to ease the throbbing pain of a migraine. The constant internal conflict and the strain of maintaining appearances were taking their toll.

As he closed his eyes and took a deep breath, he summoned a gentle breeze to soothe his troubled mind. The rustle of leaves and the familiar scent of the wind helped him find a moment of peace amidst the chaos. He turned his back and returned to where you were.

Barbatos kissed you on the lips and it calmed him, more effective than the breeze he used to himself. You’re always his cure, the one constant that brought tranquility to his turbulent existence. The soft touch of your lips against his was a momentary escape from the weight of his responsibilities. As he pulled away, a faint smile played on his lips, grateful for the solace you unknowingly provided him.

“I promise you, I’ll make this our sanctuary.”

At the end of his lonely world, maybe he’ll arrive at his true world with no regrets or remorse.

taglist: @trust-the-oxygen @so-uncute

sorry for the delay on the update. i announced on my tumblr that i would be posting this chapter in late august or early september but a lot of things happened and i self-sabotaged this sob

#elliwrites #venti x reader #yandere venti x reader #genshin impact x reader #genshin impact venti #yandere genshin impact x reader #illusory sense

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mithosis · 2 months ago

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Lo and behold, a new little plant guy, now sprinkled with main-plot-flavored tragedy. A Commander, Aestus, the warmest, gentlest sunshine of a sylvari who tries to be the beacon of hope for others, often to the detriment of himself. He shares the verse with a cranky not-fully-alive Marshal, Trahearne Inmorte (@lady-quen), and the Pact's own morbidly whimsical frankenstein bug Morivitae (@commanderteag), Zhaitan's Scion. Together with Aurene they provide a much-needed light to the other duo's darkness (and edginess).

The main twist on existing canon with this guy is the mortifying ordeal of not being a necromancer during PoF and resorting to... a bit unusual means of getting back up. He had to become akin to his enemy in order to defeat the rogue God running around the desert, turning himself into a construct, like the Forged and Exalted, albeit with a bonus of keeping his body.

Obligatory warning for a lot more lore under the cut! This is becoming a tradition with me at this point, apparently (the smoothest Ken doll anatomy version of the art is also at the very very end, i don't want tumblr to smite me)

Aestus is a sylvari of the Dusk Cycle whose pod formed a little ways away from the main cluster in Caledon Forest — closer to the beautiful field of tall rose flowers than anything else. Once discovered, a mender had to be stationed there to keep an eye on it. The life within the pod was weak and unlikely to ever bloom, even with menders' help — their efforts only gave it small bursts of strength to continue developing. Until one morning the once-blue fruit was discovered hanging a little lower just after a visit of a warm, kind-faced charr the day before — now tinted slightly red at the center. It was surprisingly healthy, restored almost as if by a miracle.

When the sapling finally awakened after repelling the vision of a dragon within the Dream with Caithe, the cause for such rapid healing was discovered — the newborn sylvari had a small red shard poking through the center of his chest. A piece of bloodstone that fueled the pod with its magic, his new "heart", exposed for all the world to see.

Despite — or maybe because — the circumstances of his awakening, Aestus is grateful to be alive — a cheerful, warm and driven individual, the kind of person who lights up the room with his presence. Infinitely curious, he is determined to live his life to its fullest, with no regrets — even more so as he later finds out the shard's salvation wasn't as all-powerful as it seemed. While a source of magic in and of itself, it became more unstable the more energy his body took to function — which prompted an… unusual diet of consuming anything that looked even remotely magical or weird enough (woe, toxic hog be upon ye) to balance the scales. It proved to be a valuable exercise in patience as well later in life as Aestus was attempting to gain greater control over the elements.

Nothing changes too drastically from the canon events in his story in the beginning: he dreams of the White Stag, the manifestation of hope, and saves it, and kills Gavin, the Nightmare Courtier, in a duel. He was the first person he ever adventured with as equals, only for the man to turn out the very opposite of Aestus' morals — someone with a goal that would make hundreds miserable. The first friend-turned-enemy, and the first in a row of people to die by their own weapon.

It's only a confirmation of his curiosity for the world that he joins the Durmand Priory further down the road, finding their methods to cause the least amount of casualties involved, as well as provide the most insight into what had happened. When they work, of course. Not at all because finding adventure in long-lost ruins seems to be appealing to him too, no.

Throughout all his various exploits, Aestus is a person who tries to bring the light and comfort into everyone's lives, no matter how dire the circumstances might be, whether it is by dancing his heart out during a festival to invite others to join in, or keeping someone quiet company in the darkest hours of the night. He is constantly dedicating his life to others, more and more so as the story progresses, forgetting about himself in the process more than once. He is the brightest thing on and off the battlefield, bringing all the attention on him instead of his allies — the perfect bait for any who might latch onto the Pact. He trusts his friends, and relies on them to do what they do best while he distracts and pulls focus. He's a helping hand to the family he'd find in Dragon's Watch and a living inspiration to the people fighting against the dragons. And the ticking bomb of repressed emotions, those he can't articulate without breaking the warm and grounding image of the Commander he built over the years (he really said "I'm the Commander of touching grass, i can't let them see I indulge in self-destructive thought"). He is but a humble servant to those that need it most, and it just so happens that Tyria itself needs someone who could put things back on track.

This mentality, as well as the constant feeling of running out of time as the shard grows more unstable the more he uses his magic, aside from the very obvious pull of the Wyld Hunt, is what inevitably dooms him to die at the hands of Balthazar. The God of War and Fire, the embodiment of one of Aestus' greatest fears — becoming a dictator obsessed with power, hellbent on waging endless wars against any and all that he deems fit, the polar opposite of the virtues that the sylvari holds dear to his core — that "all things have a right to grow". And to top it all off, the mage's most trusted element is useless against the God that governs it.

This is the moment where that exposed heart of his breaks, the bloodstone shattering. It will heal, or, rather, "grow" in a different form, no longer a piece of magic, but living metal, as Aestus will take the "humble servant" part of his mentality even further to come back from the dead. Using an ancient Forgotten ritual he'd been studying in his spare time all the way since the assault on the jungle, he turns his own corpse into a construct, not unlike the Forged and Exalted, made of plant matter, metal and colorful glass as his armor and the desert's sands melted and fused together with the sylvari from the sheer heat of his battle against the rogue God. The new "heart" would now tie his soul to the body in absence of anything else holding the two together. It functions similarly to the masks the Exalted are wearing — it is his tether, and if violently removed or damaged beyond repair, the Commander would die a final death.

Similar to the world's view of constructs, he arrives at the same assessment of his own situation — the image of the Commander he is supposed to be — a servant, like an asuran golem, that can either be discarded or recalibrated to fit any need, any task. This "realization" accumulates over time, but despite it Aestus would still try to do what he likes best — making people he loves smile and thrive, even as he is burning from inside out to accommodate. Becoming the kindling this world needs just so everyone makes it out alive.

Killing Trahearne with his own hands, without knowing he would come back in this verse, was probably one of the worst things to happen to him — his own death doesn't compare to the anguish he feels every time a person close to him gets hurt. And despite not ever truly knowing what it's like to lose the Marshal completely, Aestus still feels guilty for being even a little happy he is still there. After all, it wasn't his choice to stay.

The woes of the Commander wouldn't end there. He would emerge victorious over Balthazar and end him for good — or so he thought. He partially absorbed his magic, and just like Aurene, became a new "representation", a new "version" of the God against his will for those, who believed in the tyrant before — the Zaishen Order in particular. The quiet whispers in his head came after. They grew in power until Aestus recognized them for what they were — the dead God's thoughts, his essence or even his soul that latched onto him from the Mists. And it wanted out.

The experience appeared similar to revenants who are able to communicate with the fragments of the Legends long passed at first, but quickly turned dire as Balthazar would try to possess the Commander on more than one occasion, making the gentle sylvari forget himself even for a moment to gain the upper hand. The warmest sunshine of Aestus, now tainted, threatening to become the same hellfire he fought against in Elona. He has his allies to help manage this new "condition", but it does interfere with his life unlike anything else, forcing the sylvari to remain on edge so as not to give up the life he built to someone who would see it brought to ruin.

So he goes on as the beacon, the guiding light for others, tryng to navigate his own problems as smoothly as possible. Colored like the hope of the ever-present butterflies that surround Caladbolg at all times, Aestus is trudging through the greatest challenges the world has to offer. He just has to believe his loved ones would make it to the other side, even if it means he won't live to see it.

The promised smooth sylvari

#gw2 #guild wars 2 #sylvari #gw2 sylvari #gw2 art #gw2 commander #gw2 elementalist #hot spoilers #pof spoilers #mith draws #oc loredump #aestus

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