#Willow Dewdrop

[abianeverdecides]

Well well well 😩

@thatgamergirlakane, you still wondering who your @hphmsecretsanta was? Surprise surprise, it was me 😭 I was your Secret Santa It’s Rowan, your girls, and mine sitting on a bench (which help me god idk how to draw benches 😭) and drinking some butter beer as per one of your requests, except I’m not sure if it’s their first time there, but they seem to be getting along

What could they be talking about, I wonder 👀✨

Anyways, have a wonderful Christmas to you and everybody else seeing this post and I hope you like it! Your girls were so much fun to draw!

[thatgamergirlakane]

Head cannon things that nobody asked for regarding Willow and her family (Dewdrop)-

Jacob: born May 3rd, 1962 (Taurus) Willow: born Oct 31st, 1972 (Scorpio) Noel: born Dec 25th, 1975 (Capricorn) Dixie: born Feb 14th 1981 (Aquarius)

The Dewdrop prophecy:

"The first child of courage and bravery (Jacob) will open the vaults and cause chaos and confusion amongst the wizarding world.

The second child will bear knowledge and wisdom (Willow) to put the curses to rest after years of turmoil, and will be successful.

The third child of empathy and kindness (Noel) will heal the remains of the marks that the curses had left behind.

The fourth and final child (Dixie) will use everything that they know and as a summary of their siblings before, will ensure that those seals remain.

However, within their years, they will know of death and loss and risks and pain that one must endure to put an end to a legacy. . .and a family curse."

What about your MC(s)?: @hphm-jeniferltheman

@lifeofkaze

@lusserllaart

@hphm-z

[annacake]

[emotional-squid]

Every so often, my hyperfixiations combine and the results are epic crossover fanarts.

TOH x Ghost (band) AU

[thewickedspinster]

Of Eternity (Thranduil x Reader)

pairing: Thranduil x F!Reader

synopsis: Thranduil and Y/N know each other from what seems like a past life; one that both would rather forget. Once secret lovers, hidden from the prying eyes of the Elvenking's court, the two elves' disagreements became too much, their opinions too divided. Y/N departed for Rivendell and sought shelter with her friend, Elrond. But when the Elvenking of Mirkwood comes to parlay with the Lord of Rivendell, he once again meets Y/N, and someone else who looks awfully familiar...

warnings: afab!Reader, pregnancy, elf children, war

Tathrenion = son of one willow-made

requested by @starlight5cat

Of Eternity

In Rivendell, the seasons turned as flowers bloomed; with a sudden burst of color against the greys of winter. They came and went quickly for elvenkind, rising and eddying like the tide, and with them came new wonders and sounds, new flavors. Song.

Y/N could hardly remember a time when her life was not dictated by these rhythms, when time was so magnified as to hear her own heartbeat, to watch the sunlight catch upon a dewdrop. Though, it was not so long ago she was in a place where seasons hardly touched, where time stood still and light lingered in honeyed moments. Where her breath raced in her body, and youth stretched into eternity. Where naïveté was all too familiar.

Here, she had more responsibility. Here, she was unequivocally welcome. When she had fled the confines of her life before in Mirkwood, where she had been daughter of a Ñoldor house descended from Fingolfin, and gone westward into the Misty Mountains, she had only hoped her old friend, Elrond, would grant her sanctuary. He welcomed her with open arms. Here, she sat on his council of advisors. Here, life was warm and full of light once more.

For a short time of twenty-odd years, there was peace east of the Misty Mountains. Though her cousin Galadriel could not believe it, it had appeared the dark servant of Morgoth named Sauron had been vanquished. The grey elves lived in peace with the sons of Durin and helped the wayward man, but kept to their forests and their mountains. All had seemed well, and with the protection of the haven of Rivendell, the darkness of old seemed unable to touch her.

Such comforts cannot last. Not so long as Morgoth and his fell creations plagued Arda.

As soon as word reached Rivendell of a darkness fallen upon southern Mirkwood, Elrond sought Y/N's counsel.

"You know the eastern forests well," Elrond said softly, guiding them both down towards the river. Water fell in a gentle curtain of silver ahead, glinting in the moonlight. "What sort of evil could cause these things?"

The pair ducked behind the waterfall, and the sound of rushing water hushed their voices. There hidden was an alcove, large enough for a small group, with cushions surrounding the burnt-out embers of a fire. Elrond had come here often in the early days of ruling Rivendell, and when Y/N had arrived, had brought her here in her most vulnerable moments.

"The Elvenking's Halls are to the north, but in my many wanderings, I went south," she answered, settling on the floor alongside Elrond. "Mirkwood is vast and its creatures untold, but I have never seen anything that would produce this sort of rot."

Elrond hummed, deep in thought. Elven and human messengers alike had been passing along rumors of dark creatures in the southern Mirkwood, things that walked on more than four legs, with slavering maws and the stench of evil surrounding them. Elves who more often ventured south returned with harrowing stories of voices, of song coming from the dark trees. The canopies had grown so thick that sunlight hardly reached the ground. Some had even reported sightings of Orcs.

"You know what this means," Y/N said, interrupting Elrond's reverie. "Galadriel was right. She was always right. We cannot know that Sauron is vanquished. We burned no body. Isildur brought no head. Only the Silmaril."

"There are no credible rumors of Morgoth's creatures, Y/N."

"There are," she insisted. "They have started calling this force 'The Necromancer.' This is no coincidence, Elrond. All evil in these lands comes back to Sauron. To Morgoth. So long as their discord remains, none of the children of Eru are safe."

Beyond his red head, with his noble face, the silvered water fell in sheets, dulling to a gentle sheaving. Waiting. When he raised his gaze, he said, "What would you have me do?"

Galadriel would have them go to war. Though she had grown less brash since the last age, she had grown no less desperate for Sauron's defeat. But Rivendell was a haven, a place of peace for wandering elves. She could not see amassing forces and marching to Mirkwood unaided. Besides, it was not Elrond's territory to march on.

"You know exactly what you must do, my friend," she said at last.

"You do not like him."

"What of it?"

"He is the reason you fled your home."

It was true enough, though it still gave Y/N pause. Mirkwood had been a home for long centuries, it was true. But before that, she had known the lushness of Beleriand, and the glory of Númenor. She would always be a wanderer. But the Elvenking of Mirkwood brought with him memories too fresh to be painless.

"He is the lord of Mirkwood, and should you wish to do anything at all about this rising evil, you must first confer with him," she said firmly. "Invite him here. Invite his entire court. They will leave Prince Legolas to guard the north, but Thranduil will come."

"I would have you by my side upon his reception."

Y/N caught the glimmer of ancient mischief in Elrond's eyes, and offered him a faint smile in return. "It would be an honor."

~~~

Word came within a fortnight that the Elvenking's party would embark on the Elf-path by the full moon. This gave the people of Rivendell little time to prepare, but showed Elrond and his council how dire circumstances were in Mirkwood.

As Y/N stood at Elrond's side on the dais before the sweeping steps to the city, she knew that in this matter, as all others, that Thranduil would be stubborn, cunning, and seemingly omniscient. It was in his power as king to appear so to his people. But Y/N, he could not fool. She and Elrond would simply need maneuver with tact, to force Thranduil into showing his hand.

In the distance, the royal traveling party rounded a bend and came into view, the Elvenking in his raiment of grey and silver astride his great antlered steed. From here, Y/N could feel his piercing gaze upon them, focusing on her at the Lord of Rivendell's side. Robed in rich, dark green against Elrond's golden raiment, Y/N stood tall. A circlet of gold sat upon her brow, and in it, an opal enshrined. Befitting of her station, she stood to Elrond's left, his wife Celebrían to his right.

Y/N had known true fear in the face of evil, yet facing the Elvenking of Mirkwood after these twenty years turned her chest cold. She could never fear him - she knew him too well, but that was just the problem. They shared a deep past of friendship, of love, forbidden though it may have been. And pain, at the last. Since their parting, she had, for the first time, lived many secrets that she kept from him still.

The party finally arrived at the dais, the great reindeer's feet clapping against the stone as thunder. The Elvenking dismounted, stepped before Elrond, and inclined his head.

"Lord Elrond of Rivendell, you honor me with your great hospitality," he said formally, the Sindarin tongue rolling like quicksilver from his mouth. "And Lady Celebrían, thank you for welcoming my host into your household."

Elrond, Y/N, and the council assembled bowed to the king.

"We are pleased you answered our invitation," Elrond replied, his tone, as ever, one of deliberate lightness, as if he knew something no one else did. "How long shall you stay?"

"A week," Thranduil said shortly. Finally, finally, his silvered eyes shifted to Y/N. She breathed in deeply. "There are matters to attend to in Mirkwood."

"I do hope Prince Legolas is well," she said softly, smoothly.

Thranduil looked momentarily surprised she'd spoken, his eyebrows drawing together at the sound of her voice. "He is taking to his responsibilities well."

A moment of silence passed. The river roared below. Then, Celebrían was taking gesturing towards the king, leading him away into the great wood house of Rivendell.

Formal greetings complete, the rest of the crowd quickly dispersed, and elves moved swiftly in preparation for the feast prepared in the king's honor. Soon, only Elrond and Y/N remained. She watched the sun setting over the vale, eyes fixed on the rushing waters surrounding.

"Will you tell him?" Elrond asked, voice so quiet only she could hear.

"How could I?" Y/N whispered. She felt her fingers tremble.

"It is unfair to -"

"You shall not tell me what is fair or unfair, Elrond," Y/N whirled, suddenly furious. "You know not what it is to have my fears."

Elrond held up his hands. "I only wish to say that truths are better spoken. Deception is the chaos-sower."

"It will put him in danger."

"It will give him power."

"A curse," she hissed. "A bounty upon his head."

"Or a crown."

She stared at her friend, stunned. "You do not mean that."

Elrond only watched her in return.

With no words left between them, Y/N turned and disappeared into the house, bracing herself for the week to come.

~~~

It was the fourth day of the accursed sessions of counsel, and Thranduil had still not admitted there being any disturbance in Mirkwood. He spoke on matters of trade, of agriculture, of relations with Khazad-Dûn, but nothing of the murmurs from the Sutherlands.

Y/N was beginning to lose her patience.

Elrond, blessedly, had more of it to spare. Ever the diplomat, he listened to Thranduil's concerns and complaints of their relations, and constructed plans to fix them. Ever the master of compromise, he kept Rivendell's secrecy and best interests at heard. Ever the more patient of the two, he kept prodding the Elvenking towards revealing his secrets, to no avail.

Y/N sat, posture relaxed, around the dais at the center of Elrond's pubic chambers. The elves around her deliberated, debated, while she kept her mouth closed. As Elrond's chief advisor, her primary duty was to listen. She interjected when Elrond looked to her, and when someone said something entirely ludicrous. Elves tended to take a laboriously long time to come to any sort of agreement in politics, and were reasonable to the point of boredom. Y/N's engagement had thus far been minimal, though she heard all.

They had turned to the topic of weapons, and of Rivendell's protection. They were inching closer to the topic at hand, but she knew Thranduil had a deep well of patience, particularly when it came to dealing with elves. The high noon sun blazed down on the white marble.

"How have you fared in the training of your ranks?" Thranduil inquired, sipping at a goblet of honeywine.

"The archers excel, under the tutelage of Sindarin masters," Elrond said. "The swordsmen, under that of the Ñoldor. Khazad-Dûn has agreed to provide us with weapon designs, and with materials to forge them. Durin is all too happy to help an old friend."

Thranduil scoffed lightly into his cup. "Old friend, indeed."

Y/N sat up straighter at the tone, the scoff. She had heard it many times. "Prince Durin has provided us with an excellent relationship over the years. He is a close friend to Rivendell."

Thranduil looked at her, through her, in her. Before her mind's eye flashed his face, poised over her, abed. Soft candlelight shone from beyond his features, and his face was softened into the loveliest of smiles. Gone in an instant.

Just then, lithe footsteps from just inside, and bursting from behind the curtains came three elven children, small and laughing. A maid reached out, trying to snatch them by their tunics, but too late. They sprinted into the circle, and straight up to Elrond.

"Father, we would like to go the Gates," one boy panted. Elrohir.

"Apologies, Father," the other interjected, suddenly serious. Elladan, his twin. "I told him not to come."

"Our swordmaster is at the Gates, and asked us to join him," the third explained. Y/N sat forward, staring down at the boys.

"Tathrenion," she said severely, hiding the quake to her voice, "you know not to enter this chamber when Lord Elrond is taking counsel."

The third boy, unlike the other two, with (Y/HC) hair and striking grey eyes, paled, bowing to Y/N. Even when he straightened, he kept his eyes averted. "Forgive me, Mother. Elladan and Elrohir wished to go, and I wished to accompany them."

It was only then, as the boys turned to glance around at the present company, that Elrond spoke.

"You are in the presence of Thranduil, Elvenking of Mirkwood."

Shuffling, with a soft gasp from Elrohir, the three boys bowed low to the king. Thranduil said nothing for a moment. Instead of on the children, his eyes were pinned on Y/N, wide with unbridled shock. When he finally did look at the boys, at the one called Tathrenion, he found his own eyes staring back, steady and calm.

Thranduil stood abruptly, setting down his goblet. He opened his mouth, closed it, then said, "We shall eat. Elrond, you shall decide what to do with your sons."

He swept off the dais, out of view, and Y/N was left staring at the spot he once occupied.

"Go after him," Elrond murmured to her, leaning close.

"Tathrenion-"

"Leave the child to me." And an unspoken promise to keep her son safe.

Y/N was up in an instant, following in Thranduil's wake as quickly as possible. But he was moving fast, and kept dodging out of sight, around corners that he did not know. Servants moved out of the way as Y/N passed through an adjoining kitchen at a sprint, intercepting Thranduil as he rounded the corner into the next room.

She caught him by his elbow as he tried to pull from her grasp, but she held firm.

"Thranduil," she said. "Stop. Just... Stop. And listen."

His rage made his jaw tight, his brows drawn low. "I will not stand here and listen to you when you have -"

"I had to leave," she interrupted, holding his gaze unflinchingly. "I could not be your concubine, Thranduil. I would not."

He scoffed, that same sound he made when he thought someone foolish. Beneath him. It hadn't started this way, but as they fell deeper into each other, he'd started scoffing at her the same way. It was part of what drove Y/N away from Mirkwood. "You were not a concubine, Y/N."

"Then tell me what I was to you."

Thranduil bent lower, so their faces were inches apart. "You know exactly what you were to me."

"I know that I was not your wife." And that was venom in her tone, sour and deadly.

A shadow passed over his features. "You were everything she was not."

"And that makes me whore to a king."

"You have never been a whore!" He shouted.

The surrounding house went quiet. Y/N trembled, fingertips numb.

"Tathrenion is your son," she said lowly, practically hissing into his mouth. "Your son, Thranduil. Our place in Rivendell is of your doing. You never recognized what it was to be in my place, with no guarantee of my safety in your court."

"I always would have protected the both of you."

Tears gathered in her eyes. "Our love felt increasingly fragile. I doubted that it even existed any longer. Had we been found out, I doubted you would protect me from exile."

Thranduil was quiet. The house had moved on from his sharp outburst, exhaling as his anger passed. Y/N's grip loosened on his tunic, her truth spoken. But her touch lingered.

"Did you know?" He murmured hoarsely.

"Not when I left your halls. Not until I reached the Misty Mountains."

"And all... went well? With the birth?"

Elven births were rare, and dangerous for mother and child. "Blessedly, Elrond's midwives and healers some of the most gifted, and I healed swiftly. He was born squalling."

He loosed a soft breath, and some of the tension left his features. He had always been beautiful, but it was when he was away from prying eyes that he truly became ethereal. Radiant. Himself.

"You should always have been in Mirkwood, with me." She just looked up at him. "I am sorry, my Y/N. I never meant to make you afraid."

"It is safer for both of us away from you and Legolas."

Thranduil snorted. "My son has proven impertinent. And lacking the character to succeed me."

"He will mature," she said softly. "He is young still."

"He will have to fight soon."

"Then this Necromancer..."

"Is a threat. Whatever darkness lurks in the south of my lands, it is dangerous and spreading."

"Tell Elrond," she urged. "He wishes to aid any fight against Morgoth's darkness in these lands."

"My forces are strong."

"They will be stronger with Rivendell's. Don't let your pride cloud your judgement."

At that, a small smile graced his mouth. "That has always been your advice for me."

"It will always stand. Unless you change."

"Would you come home?"

The question surprised her. "You would have us? So soon after the death of your wife?"

"I would have your company," he said. "And I would have my son raised by the both of us."

Y/N did not have an answer, and she was about to say as much when a smaller voice said, "I would like to go to Mirkwood."

Y/N whipped around, and found young Tathrenion standing behind them. She took a large step away from Thranduil, then lowered herself to her son's level, steeling herself.

"What did Lord Elrond tell you and the twins?" She asked.

"He said we may go to the Gates, but I decided to stay behind." Tathrenion peered past Y/N, to the Elvenking. "I wished to speak with you."

Thranduil could hardly stomach looking at his son's face, the very reflection of his own, untouched by age yet full of a strange wisdom. "Speak, child."

"I know little of why my mother left your kingdom, but I know she has done everything since for my sake. Please, do not ply her with false hopes. If you invite us to Mirkwood, you pledge to keep her safe."

"And you," Thranduil answered immediately. "I will protect you both, and welcome you into my household in places of honor."

Y/N was speechless, her throat swollen around pride for her young son.

"I know you not, Your Majesty, but I would like to," said Tathrenion simply.

Thranduil smiled.

Y/N sent him on his way, leaving her alone once again with the Elvenking. This time, he reached out to her, and against logic, she stepped into him, leaning into his fingers upon her cheek. She had longed for his touch, his kiss, his steadfastness ever since she left the forest. Leaving Mirkwood had been one of the hardest decisions of her long life.

"Let us think about this," she whispered. "And let these diplomatic matters be done first. Speak to Elrond in earnest."

"I will wait for your return to my side, Y/N," he murmured. "I have been waiting since the moment you left."

~~~

Dappled sunlight shone down upon the glade, lighting the page Y/N read. It was a letter, signed in Elrond's familiar hand, detailing the phalanxes marching towards Mirkwood. They would join Thranduil's army in patrolling for evil in the south, just as they had hoped.

Amongst the trees, a young boy laughed, and an older one hollered. Legolas was nearly fully mature, but had taken to playing with his younger half-brother in earnest. Together, they romped through the forest, and Tathrenion adored having someone elder to look up to and learn from. He excelled in archery, now, thanks to Legolas's tutelage.

A hand wrapped around her arm, pulling her backwards, and she fell upon Thranduil's chest. He was stretched upon the grass, feline at ease. She luxuriated in the feel of his body against hers, in his fingers in her unbound hair. In his mouth, pressed to her shoulder.

She had refused to take him to bed since her return, but she had begun to let him back into her heart. He had honored his word, and the loss of his wife had left him in need of comfort, in need of counsel and a tender hand.

Besides that, over honeywine in the candlelight one night in Rivendell, he had finally told her he loved her. Words were the playthings of elves, and though they meant little to some, they meant everything to Y/N. She opened up visions of the future that had ere been clouded.

"Of what do you think, my love?" Thranduil breathed against her skin.

She came back to the dampness of the grass beneath them, the golden green of the canopy above, the laughter of her son in the distance. The warmth of her king at her back.

She smiled. "Eternity."

[sleepgarden]

Spring transitions into Summer 🪻 The text reads:

Her era of rain is hushed away in a warm wind, leaving behind glimmering dewdrops on the renewed buds of spring. She graces the blooms from under the weeping willow bower, holding them to her tender breast. Their pinks, purple, and blues are a vivid triumph over her wishful longing and doubt.

Prints are available in my shop!

[pupsmailbox]

FAIRY︰ELF ID PACK

NAMES ⌇　adelina.　aeon.　aether.　aimee.　alaina.　alette.　alfre.　alvar.　ami.　amy.　aoibhann.　archer.　ash.　aubrette.　aubri.　aura.　aurora.　avery.　ayesha.　barry.　basil.　bell.　belle.　berry.　blaze.　bloom.　blossom.　bolt.　briar.　brooke.　calypso.　caspian.　cassian.　celeste.　charlotte.　clover.　collin.　corbin.　cosmo.　crow.　dahlia.　dalia.　damien.　dela.　dew.　dewdrop.　dewey.　diana.　dianna.　drop.　elfie.　elida.　elisa.　ella.　ellie.　elliot.　elly.　elm.　elvenia.　elvina.　eros.　fae.　faebelle.　faeriette.　faette.　fairiette.　faith.　fallin.　fawn.　fay.　faye.　fayetta.　fayette.　faylinn.　felix.　ferun.　feya.　finch.　fleur.　flix.　flora.　frost.　glimmer.　glow.　gray.　holly.　hope.　ilayda.　iradessa.　iris.　ivy.　jinx.　jynx.　keijo.　lendabair.　lili.　lilli.　lillie.　lilly.　lily.　linetta.　loona.　luna.　lynette.　mariam.　mariposa.　mayblossom.　meadow.　melody.　migina.　mina.　mischette.　mischie.　mischievelle.　mischievette.　moon.　moth.　musa.　nix.　nixie.　nymph.　nymphelle.　nymphette.　nymphie.　nyx.　odette.　olette.　oliver.　onyx.　opal.　periwinkle.　petal.　pix.　pixi.　pixie.　poppy.　rose.　rosemary.　satu.　shayla.　shaylah.　shayleen.　sheelin.　starla.　stella.　síobhra.　tania.　tanya.　tatania.　tiana.　tinca.　tink.　tinka.　tinker.　tinkerbell.　tinkerbelle.　titania.　trick.　trickselle.　tricksette.　trix.　tryck.　tryx.　tunder.　tünde.　tündér.　vidia.　whim.　whimsey.　whimsie.　whimsy.　willow.　wing.　älva.

PRONOUNS ⌇　bloom/bloom.　dew/dew.　dust/dust.　elf/elf.　fae/fae.　fae/faer.　fae/faerie.　fae/faery.　fae/fairy.　fai/fai.　fai/fairy.　fai/fairytale.　fairy/fairie.　fairy/fairy.　fay/fay.　flight/flight.　flower/flower.　frog/frog.　honey/honey.　jest/jest.　jinx/jinxe.　joke/joke.　mischie/mischief.　mischie/mischievous.　mischief/mischief.　mischief/mischievous.　moss/moss.　moss/moss.　mush/mushroom.　oak/oak.　pix/pix.　pix/pixie.　prank/prank.　shimmer/shimmer.　shine/shine.　shroom/shroom.　spark/spark.　sparkle/sparkle.　spring/spring.　sprite/sprite.　trick/trick.　trick/trickster.　vae/vaer.　ven/venus.　wing/wing.

[serene-sun]

𝔐𝔲𝔰𝔥𝔶 𝔐𝔞𝔶 𝔇𝔞𝔶 24: “𝔞𝔠𝔱𝔰 𝔬𝔣 𝔣𝔯𝔦𝔢𝔫𝔡𝔰𝔥𝔦𝔭”

Pairing: Aether/mountain

Sum: earth ghouls are very emotional after being summoned

MUSHY MAY BY @forlorn-crows !!!

“He’s crying again,” ifrit says

“Yeah,” Aether sighs as he moves the curtain out of his view of the window again, “He wont come inside either, even when it’s raining.”

“Well, he must come in at some point to eat, just have to wait him out.” Dewdrop says as he also looks out the window.

The newly summoned earth ghoul had been crying under the weeping willow tree for more than two days now. Earth ghouls were known to be extremely personal and protective over friends and family. Just like quintessence ghouls, they held deep bonds with things they loved. So it was a point to time they called “the weeping willow phase” of when the earth ghoul mourned the loss of both their habitat and their people.

It could be hard for them to find a new beloved, so this period would last until they bonded with their new pack mates.

“He doesn’t have to eat, remember?” Ifrit nods as he unfolds his arms, “Earth ghouls are so stubborn, they always find a way to outgrow their issues but still get so emotional.” He says as he puts a hand on aethers back, motioning that he was leaving.

After Ifrit left, Dewdrop looked up to Aether, “What are we going to do? It was easy to bond with Ivy because he didn’t like all of the ants getting on him so he stayed inside. But I’m afraid our new friend will run off.”

“I know…” Aether sighed again as his vision relaxed into the golden red sky that caressed the ministry as the sun started to fall into the mountains.

“I’m not the best at….talking….but you-“ Dewdrop thought, “I mean you were kind of made for talking to others.” The water ghoul smiled awkwardly, they weren’t the best at talking one on one as most of them were either shy or anxious if not both.

“I’ll talk to him, just tell Papa that we’re still trying before he gives up on us.” Aether chuckled at the end, he rubbed the base of his horn in frustration on the situation.

Terzo was a great leader, but he was known to grow impatient rather quickly.

“It’s getting a little chilly out here, why don’t you come inside?” Aether said softly as he walked up to the earth ghoul.

With a flinch, the whimpering ghoul peaked a teary eye out of his tucked arms from his knees. He looked at aether, not with fear, with sadness as another cry strung out of his sore throat.

A gently breeze hushed the sounds of the ministry as the long strand of vine and leaf from the willow tree blew like hair in the gentle summer breeze, Aether kneeled down beside him.

“I know it’s difficult, but you must continue.” Aether said with a frown as he placed a hand on the ghouls shoulder.

The earth ghoul was large, tall as a matter of fact and long eyelashes that collected his tears of his puffy eyes. The ghouls hair was dark, a sort of brown that shifted green highlight in the flittering light of the setting sun. Skin, a neutral green with darker pigmented spots as his veins showed through his pale skin like small vines that blended in with the moss that spread across his finger tips and around his joints. His ears pointed, many chips and cuts that covered him like a story book. His eyes were a piercingly soft purple like a cluster of amethyst. The earth ghoul curled up into a ball more as he rubbed his nose, a tear falling down the apple of his cheek.

Aether sat beside him against the hunk of the tree, “if you come inside, I will get you better clothes and you wont have to get all wet from the rain like you did last night.”

The ghoul couldn’t deny that sounded wonderful, but he couldn’t get the images of his life in the pit out of his memory. But something urged him to let a hand slowly fall from his own embrace and trail down into the dirt to pick one of the flower bulbs. He held it in his hand gently, brining it up beside Aethers face as it suddenly bloomed a white blossom that swirled with life as it paralleled the quintessential ghouls white iris.

Aether was amazed a little, his heart fluttered and ached for the sadness dripping from the ghouls aura, soiling the soil and atmosphere.

“It’s beautiful, we have plenty of plants in the greenhouse.” Aether strikes a conversation, “But tell me, why must you stay attached to this fair tree?”

He lays the flower back on the ground, the bloom quickly fading as his touch leaves the plant.

“Salix Babylonica,” the ghoul finally speaks a soft but deep whisper as he rubs a tear from his porcelain face, “Mountain is covered with them this time of year.”

“Your right, they are,” Aether smiles as he looks up the tree and it’s branches draped with green, “Mountains, like you, are very strong and steady.”

The earth ghoul shakes his head, “I was I was like a mountain, sturdy and responsibility, beautiful and peaceful.” He traces a root in the ground with his finger, “But im not, im emotional and unwise.”

“I simply doubt that, if anything i think you are more a mountain than any other earth ghoul I’ve met.” Aether says, placing his hand on the ghouls

Earth looks up at Aether, “I’m not sad to loose my life in the pit, I never knew anyone there who was nice.” He admits solemnly.

The quintessence ghoul looks at him with pity, he knew the pit was rough even fore ghouls, “Then why must you weep?”

“I’m sad because I don’t have anything to loose, and now I must live in a world where there is more life to remind me of how lonely and out of place I am.” He says, letting down his guard now that aether was that close to him.

Earth ghouls were usually very short and small, smaller than water ghouls. He was abandoned from his pack due to them thinking he was a water ghoul for his height and quick growing hair.

“That doesn’t matter now, if I had room to say amongst all of the people here than id say you fit perfectly among these misfits we call ourselves.” Aether laughed softly as he stood up, “Come, I think you would enjoy some fresher clothes.”

Earth stood up with a soft smile, “If you say so, but…I don’t even have a name..how will i belong?”

“I think I found one,” Aether says as he takes his hand and walks with him on the brick path to the ghoul quarters.

“I think Mountain is a great name,”

[dani-luminae]

So this post introduced me to posters for Wish that I hadn't seen before and BUCKLE UP FOLKS CAUSE I'M ABOUT TO GO NUTS

REFERENCES GALOOOOORRRRE! There's Rapunzel's lanterns reflected on the water as well as her sun symbol painted on the cottage pillars, Moana's (Te Fiti's heart) spiral on the rocks to the left, a racoon and the partridges which I chose to believe are a Snow White reference (of course the racoon could be Meeko from Pocahontas, too.) The flower resembles the Sundrop flower (with the wrong amount of petals and no glow.) There's also a carving on the rocks just below the cottage, but I can't make out what the carving is. Can you?

EVEN MORE REFERENCES GALORE AND FOLKS I'M GONNA SCREAM! In Wish bubbles at the top of the screen we have: the Elephant Graveyard from The Lion King; Ariel from The Little Mermaid; an unknown for certain man standing at a ship's wheel, possibly Eric; Sleeping Beauty's dress; an unknown scene that looks like water; Be Prepared from the Lion King (the crescent moon finale); a figure with a staff or a flag, maybe Radcliffe from Pocahontas?; Gaston, flexing; and someone reaching out for what looks like the moon, sitting on something that looks vaguely like a fish (Aladdin? Quasimodo? Milo in Atlantis?)

BELOW the Wish orbs, though, we've got Disney Villain props all tossed around! At the back worktable we see Dr. Facilier's hat, next to a Sundrop flower, and a rack of antlers and fur that I'm gonna take as a Gaston reference. On the front worktable we have the Poison Apple from Snow White, some Tarot cards of Facilier's, bottled polyps from Ursula's lair, and in the stacks of scrolls below we can see Judge Claude Frollo's hat.

Aladdin's lamp and Bruno's ruana are sitting on a rock to the right, and between them are colorful bugs from The Lion King! The trees have faces which made me think of Grandmother Willow but not sure fully. Up at the top we can see a silhouette of Lumiere on one of the branches, and a racoon holds Chip the teacup! The owl and bluebirds are of course typical "princess in the forest" companions and I'll let you draw your own conclusions, but we also have Bambi and Faline (both adults) in the background! One of the chipmunks in the foreground holds a piece of broken green stone like the kind that stores Bruno's visions, right above a turtle that I'm certain is a Snow White reference! Also, the flowers covered in visible dewdrops as well as the mushrooms remind me of "The Nutcracker Suite" animations in Fantasia!

And last (and with the least references I could find,) on the left we have one of Belle's books sitting on the steps! A farmer with the giant pumpkin that might have been Cinderella's carriage has just gone past in the background, and Simba's symbol from The Lion King can be seen on the opposite side of the steps, close to the yellow pinwheel. The two children are sitting on a pirate ship under two stars... maybe the Second Star to the Right? The last woman on the right has a pattern on her vase that I can't quite make out, and Valentino has a dandelion in his mouth (my first impression is the dandelions that Belle holds while singing her I Want song, but I could be wrong!)

Did I miss any references? Can you spot any that I didn't see? Please let me know!

[sarahscribbles]

𝐔𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐫𝐧𝐞𝐚𝐭𝐡 𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐖𝐢𝐥𝐥𝐨𝐰 𝐓𝐫𝐞𝐞

𝐒𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: 𝐀 𝐬𝐩𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐚𝐟𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐧𝐨𝐨𝐧 𝐢𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐠𝐚𝐫𝐝𝐞𝐧𝐬 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐡𝐮𝐬𝐛𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐢𝐬 𝐣𝐮𝐬𝐭 𝐚𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫 𝐨𝐜𝐜𝐚𝐬𝐢𝐨𝐧 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐝𝐞𝐛𝐚𝐮𝐜𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐲 𝐢𝐧 𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐞𝐲𝐞𝐬

𝐆𝐞𝐧𝐫𝐞: 𝐒𝐦𝐮𝐭

𝐏𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: 𝐋𝐨𝐤𝐢 𝐱 𝐟!𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 𝟏.𝟓𝐤

𝐋𝐨𝐤𝐢 𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭

𝐀𝐍: 𝐓𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐰𝐚𝐬 𝐰𝐫𝐢𝐭𝐭𝐞𝐧 𝐟𝐨𝐫 @springdandelixn 𝐒𝐩𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐒𝐥𝐞𝐞𝐩𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐫! 𝐈 𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞 𝐲𝐨𝐮, 𝐁𝐞𝐚𝐧𝐬!

“....the entire palace is buzzing with the news! The Allmother is inviting some of her Vanir cousins to the Spring Fete this year for the first time in 500 years!”

“I hear their men outshine even the Princes! Some fresh faces and bodies to admire would be a dream!”

“None could outshine Prince Thor! He was sent here straight from Valhalla!” 

A derisive snort. “Put it to bed, Signe. Prince Thor is enraptured with his mortal. You don’t stand a chance of winning his affections.”

“How can you possibly…”

How could she possibly what? Whatever the girl's quarrel had been it was something you would never know, for the sound of her voice melted away as swiftly as a dewdrop on snow, becoming nothing more than a faint drone in the distance. The gods themselves couldn’t have pulled the reason for her upset from you, seeing as your attention had been locked on one word, one name.

Signe. 

Hearing her name had you stiffen against the tree trunk, every muscle and nerve pulled taut in both fear and excitement. If Signe was here, sitting by the bank of the lake, then no doubt so were Eira and Inkeri - the three likely taking advantage of a rare afternoon of leisure to enjoy the spring sun. It held little heat, but the season had arrived late this year and any chance to forget the frigid winter was one all the servants were grasping eagerly. It had only just passed midday and the sun was at its peak, meaning the girls would likely loll by the lake until it began to slip behind the Asgardian mountains. 

Three of your handmaidens - the girls who helped you undress, helped you bathe, and kept you company through large parts of the day - sat frightfully close to where you were precariously concealed behind the sweeping leaves of the willow tree. Even with the slight breeze that rustled the brilliant green leaves your view of the lake beyond was still obscured, leaving you with no idea as to where the girls actually were.

The uncertainty of how close they were, of how much they could see through the branches, was both unnerving and exhilarating, and you could feel your blood burn with pure adrenaline. Each pump of your heart only heightened your senses; you could hear the whisper of the leaves as the wind continued to pass through them, you could detect the heady sweet smell of hyacinths amidst the wildflowers that were coming to life in patches on the edge of the lake…

You could feel every muscle in Loki’s sinful tongue as he knelt between your legs.

His quiet roll of laughter told you that he had felt you stiffen and you wanted to do nothing more than to curse him to Hel, but that raised the danger of drawing unwanted attention to your little tryst. 

“You’re suddenly so very tense, pet. Whatever could be the matter?” he taunted, licking a torturously slow stripe along the length of your dripping cunt. 

A strangled curse tumbled freely from your lips. You had lost track of how long he had kept you dangling on the edge of release, propelling you there over and over without letting you freefall into bliss. He was a master at delaying your pleasure, at making you buck and writhe until you would do close to anything to be permitted to topple over. You hadn’t yet resorted to pleading, meaning the torture he was subjecting you to was far from over. 

You made to try and push his head away, momentarily forgetting about the shimmering green seidr that bound your arms to the tree trunk behind. There was no way for you to escape. 

“You know…fuck…you know precisely what’s the matter!” you hissed quietly, swallowing the moan that bubbled in your throat when his tongue skillfully circled your swollen clit. 

The ripples of pleasure that washed over you almost had you seeing stars, almost had you forgetting about the maids that still sat giggling by the edge of the lake. You wanted to beg him, to plead with him to send you soaring off the edge and scream his name for all of Valhalla to hear. You wanted him to ruin you right here beneath the willow tree - the place that was enmeshed in the story of you and Loki. 

But the maids.

Loki didn’t answer immediately, and you felt his grip on your hips tighten as he pulled you firmly against his mouth. He continued his assault slowly, licking and swirling and circling until you were all but certain you would pass out with the effort of containing the noises that were stirring in your throat. 

How desperately you wanted to scream his name. 

“You’re going to have to enlighten me, pet,” Loki said wickedly, still buried between your thighs. “I’m certain I have no idea what could possibly have you so tense.”

You yanked again against the wisps of his seidr still binding you to the tree, and he answered with a teasing lap of his tongue directly over your clit. “The…the maids,...you asshole!”

Loki leaned back on his heels, his lips glistening with your arousal and his eyes alight with mischief. Almost instantly your hips began to roll against the air, desperately seeking the warm wetness of his mouth that had made you feel so good. 

“Scared of getting caught, are we? My, my, pet, where has your sense of adventure gone?” he taunted.

“Loki…” Your quiet protest was barely a whisper, was barely a protest to begin with. Arousal pooled like molten lava between your thighs, even with the danger of being discovered. 

You knew you would beg him to ruin you right here if he made you. 

“I have a proposition for you, pet,” Loki said, wiping your arousal from his lips in one smooth brush of his hand. “You either come, loudly, right here against this tree and we return to the palace, or I continue edging you until nightfall. You have thirty seconds to decide.”

You could do nothing but stare blankly at him in disbelief, in horror at the decision he had laid before you. To do the former would be to disgrace yourself in front of your maids - if they could even tell it was you - but the latter would mean your imminent demise. To be kept so torturously close to release for hours would be torture like nothing else, but to come undone would mean having to hide in your chamber for a week. How could you look your maids in the eye after they heard Loki bring you to a blinding climax? Because there was no doubt that it would be blinding.

It was an impossible choice, yet….

“Make me come. Please, Loki,” you said before you knew the words were leaving your mouth. 

A feline smirk curled his lips and you watched his eyes darken to near obsidian. “Loudly, pet,” he reminded you. 

You nodded quickly, eyes fluttering briefly closed. “Loudly,” you promised him.

“Good girl,” Loki praised you, wasting no time in continuing his assault. 

His tongue immediately settled into the exact pace that had the edge rise within you like a cresting wave, building higher and higher with each masterful swirl of his tongue. In seconds the coil deep in your stomach was wound tight and quiet whimpers were falling from your lips like petals from a rose. Loki squeezed your hips - a silent reminder of your promise to him only minutes before. 

You erupted for him in seconds.

Your release crashed down around you like a winter storm, and his name was pulled from you in a scream you couldn't have contained if you had tried. 

Loki.

Loki.

Loki!

It melted quickly to a stream of broken, wanton moans as your orgasm continued to roll through you, seemingly endless beneath the assault of his tongue. In the distance, you swore you heard the sound of girlish giggles fade to nothing, swore you heard a deafening silence settle over the palace grounds, but so great was the pleasure that consumed you that you barely even noticed. All that mattered in that moment was Loki. 

With a heaving chest, you came down from your high, mind still foggy and eyes still unfocused. Your entire body went limp, boneless, and you found you were unable to stop your head from crashing back against the tree trunk while Loki straightened your skirts. Against the ringing in your ears you could hear the quiet concerned voices of the maids still sitting beyond the leaves. 

“That sounded like Her Highness?”

“Don’t be absurd, Signe! The Princess wouldn’t rut beneath the trees like some beast!”

“No? Then who else would Prince Loki have beneath there? I heard his name!” 

In the wake of such a shattering release - so shattering that parts of you were still tingling - you found that you didn’t even care. Let them know that Loki had claimed you in the gardens for all to hear, let the entire palace know without a doubt that you were his

.The warm ropes of his seidr quickly melted from your arms, allowing you to fall forward against the expanse of his chest.

“Good girl,” he murmured, curling a slim finger beneath your chin to tilt your head back. “Now, with me, and I’ll show you how good girls are rewarded.”

Pals of Saz taglist: @cheekyscamp @coldnique @mochie85 @fictive-sl0th @the-lady-amphitrite @cake-writes @joyful-enchantress @lokisgoodgirl @simplyholl @give-me-a-moose @maple-seed @loopsisloops @kinky-faerie @lokiprompts @mischief2sarawr @wintermischief @icytrickster17 @mischief-dream

[hanlimz]

[hanlimz's 200 event!: sunghoon + 3 (hugs) and 14 (kisses)]

synopsis: forbidden relationship, dangerous consequences, and tender love. / for my love @nyxvrse <3 mwah love u sm ! hope u enjoy~ pairing: knight!y/n x prince!sunghoon genre/warnings: fluff, angst if you squint / some mention of death (no one dies tho), poor historically accurate dialogue ㅠㅠ, maybe ooc sunghoon (?), idk a descriptive kiss? wc: ~1.7k (OOPS LOL) a/n: why is it always Not my biases that i write the longest fic for ? like? my hee fic is staring at me with over 6k words rn n my need to write for sunjaywon is off the CHARTS but my brain won't let me LMAO ㅠㅠ / anyways, this is a part of my 200 followers event! feel free to request!

sunghoon is urging you forward with a solid hand encircling your wrist. his touch tethers you to reality, and the clarity you experience in his presence is addicting; colors are more vibrant, every new rush of adrenaline echoes throughout your entire body, and the crisp, morning air burns as it finds its way down to your lungs. sunghoon's fingers press into your flesh in the same way he has been etched into your heart. as you run, dewdrops bead on the worn leather of your work boots—the remnants of the night's storm having not yet been victim to the summer sun. the loose fitting linen of sunghoon's casual attire ripples in the breeze, and you find yourself mesmerized by it. mesmerized by him.

under the canopy of a large willow tree, sunghoon stops. his breathing is heavy and labored, and he has to lean against the damp bark of the tree to chase after it. still entranced by his natural beauty and hidden away from the rest of the world by the billowing branches, you take a hesitant step closer to sunghoon; he glances up at you and allows a hint of mischief to swim in his gaze. even through his fatigue, his lips manage to quirk up at the corners, and his grin sends a wave of heat flowing over your body. however, his playfulness and your susceptibility are both dangerous. there are rules to follow, and there are consequences for breaking them. fraternizing outside of kingdom-sanctioned duties is strictly forbidden, and a mistake could cost you your life.

a knight is never meant to fall in love with royalty, and you are no exception.

as sunghoon skirts his hand to rest at the taper of your waist, he bunches the fabric of your training blouse betwixt his slender fingers and tugs you into his lean frame. the tip of his nose brushes against the side of yours, and his mouth ghosts over your cupid's bow. prince sunghoon is poised, graceful, and positively hypnotizing. like the pied piper, his song has enchanted your very being; he's taken your heart in his hands and flipped your world of order and rigidity on its head. however, a phantom of doubt haunts your thoughts, forcing you to pull away and leave him wanting.

"your majesty—"

"please, [y/n] ... i've told you how i want you to address me—how much i loathe that ridiculous title escaping your lips," he cuts you off, reaching up to cup your cheek. the warmth of his hand blossoms against your face, and you like to think that the lines of his palms foretell stories of a shared future, a joint destiny. "call me by my name."

"sunghoon ..." you protest in spite of his seemingly magnetic pull, "you know the punishment for this is severe. if we're found out here, together ... it would spell danger for the both of us."

he simpers, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear, "well, it's good that i have you to protect me, then. don't you agree?"

"you know that's not what i meant."

"i know," he replies, attempting to hold you infinitely closer. the tantalizing scent of jasmine and citrus mixes with the mint leaf he had been chewing on earlier, and you have to stop yourself from falling even deeper under his allure. "but, tell me then what i should do? what should i do when i'm in love with someone who i'm unable to love freely? tell me, [y/n]—what danger is greater than the threat of a life where i am left without you?"

sunghoon is greeted with an obtrusive silence. in the quiet, you can feel his beautifully deep eyes searching your face for any semblance of fear or reluctance. his calm seas of umber seep through the cracks in your stony facade like the natural stream that had made its way past the castle walls. when you glance up at him, the familiar hint of mischief in his gaze is replaced by two pools of sincerity and assurance. sunghoon's certainty frightens you; his willingness to pour out his heart and allow it to lay bare is enough to leave you dazed.

"you are who i want, [y/n]. you are who i need," he declares, pressing his forehead against yours. "in every life after this one—i know i will love you all the same."

his words are reminiscent of ice water cascading down the plains and valleys of your body. his love is a foreign concept to you, and the raw emotion in his voice is almost too much for you to handle. sunghoon's passion glows through his royal attire; it warms the tips of your fingers that had gone numb with nerves. hot tears welling up behind your eyes appear pearlescent as they catch the emerging sunlight. sunghoon has let you into his soul, and—by doing so—has taught your caged heart the intricacies of pure adoration.

desperate to feel him against you once more, you let your wet eyelashes ghost over the apples of his cheeks. "i'm taken by you, prince sunghoon," you whisper, "you're like nothing i've ever had the pleasure of indulging in before ... soft skin, kind heart, gentle hands. every part of me is rough—jagged and sharp." as you inhale, sunghoon records the bridge of your nose under the pad of his thumb. a fond smile graces his delicately charming features, and you find yourself compelled to tell him the truth.

"i don't want to hurt you, sunghoon," you confess, attempting to ignore the urge to succumb to the methodical swipe of his fingers against your cheekbone. "i want to be able to be tender with you—to cook dinner with you, to hang your laundry next to mine on the line, to call for you when the sun sets so we could watch it side by side. i want to hold you in my arms and keep you in my heart, but i'm afraid of what my love might look like—what it might do to you."

sunghoon is still smiling after you finish; his hands are still mapping the way your body feels beneath them, and the unadulterated devotion in his eyes has yet to waver. "you won't hurt me, [y/n]," he says, a fiery gleam of determination blazing in his gaze. "you could never hurt me."

"how can you be so sure, sunghoon?"

"because, i know you," he says, simply.

"you know me?" you reply, unconvinced.

"i know the way you love, [y/n]," sunghoon urges. "i saw you scrub floorboards and mop the marble when my sister's lady in waiting had fallen ill. i watch when you go into town to play quoits with the children. i know you sneak some of your leftover dinner for mister kwon when he works late nights in the marker. and, i've woken up to see your head resting on your folded arms at the foot of my bed more times than i'm able to count." he chuckles and glances at the grass, "you're already tender and soft and sweet, and i find it absurd that you don't believe so yourself."

blood boils under your cheeks, "well, those were—"

"let me show you," sunghoon proposes, and you're thrown off by the severity of his tone. leaning in, he brings his mouth to brush over yours, "will you let me show you how tender you are?"

air is punched from your lungs with the weight of his question. you know exactly what his words imply, you are all too familiar with the peril that lurks deep beneath them. darkness looms over you; it overtakes your vision for a moment as you consider the conflicting emotions warring within, but sunghoon is patient. each of his movements reflects the slow ascent of the sun in the late morning sky; he coaxes you from your cocoon to bask in his light, bathed in all of the warmth he knows you deserve. it feels good. it feels like silken bedclothes and summer fruit and muffled laughter. it feels right.

"show me," you murmur.

and within seconds, sunghoon is kissing you.

it begins like two feathers tickling your lips; in this manner, his mellow nature is not lost on you. his hands are star-crossed spirits dancing up and down the length of your torso. sunghoon lingers everywhere he can reach, committing the way your body thrums in his palms to memory. though, like a series of symphonic movements, a newfound vigor awakens in him; greed and hunger flow together with all the love he has for you, and sunghoon charges forward. he hums into your mouth as his fingers curl into the stifling cotton of your day clothes. you push back, splaying a fervent hand across the expanse of his neck and pulling the hair at the nape of his neck. stumbling in a wonderfully disordered waltz and swaying like the branches above your heads, the two of you kiss until you run out of breath to share.

when you pull away, sunghoon starts to laugh. the sound is rich and full, a resurgent melody before the conclusion of a piece. inhaling proves to be difficult as the both of you recover from going without oxygen for so long, but you deem it trivial. your heaving chest, your pounding heart, your trembling legs—they make you feel like more than just a cog in the kingdom's machine. they make you feel human. they make you feel alive.

pressing your forehead to sunghoon's, your labored breaths mingle once more. "i'm taken by you, prince sunghoon," you say again.

his amusement turns boyish, and sunghoon cannot contain the bout of giggles that escape from past his lips. in a flash, his grip tightens at your waist; slender fingers dig into your flesh, and you almost yelp until the surprise melts away. in sunghoon's arms, you experience flight for the first time in your life. he turns with you in his hold, various hues and shapes bleed together as the world is likened to a watercolor painting, and you swear a pair of wings sprouts from between your shoulder blades. they seem remain even as your feet touch the ground, manifesting in the form of your heart fluttering with untamed freedom and fierce love.

"and i, you, [y/n]." sunghoon replies, "my knight in cotton armor."

you chuckle at his silly response, and in this moment, the world seems incredibly small. enamored with one another, two dewdrops meet at the conclave of their respective blades of grass. joining together, indulging in the quiet, becoming one beneath the decades old willow tree—they have not yet fallen victim to the summer sun, and it feels good. it feels right.

[bongsuvn]

Art by Not A Starchild

HỒ XUÂN HƯƠNG WAS A BISEXUAL?

(Tiếng Việt ở dưới)

Hồ Xuân Hương 胡春香 (1772 – 1822) was one of the greatest poets in Vietnamese history, nicknamed Lady of Nôm Poetry. Most of Hồ Xuân Hương’s works were able to escape the constrained restrictions of traditional literature to reveal her own voice; many called her distinctive language as “serenely profane.” Her poems were famous for their bold sensuality, especially her direct yet flowery depictions of sexual intercourse, completely different from the folk poems of similar motifs by Vietnamese women.

“Congratulations to whoever, skillfully Planted the four posts of the swing, beautifully. Some people climb aboard to swing, while others Are just quiet onlookers, observing and smiling. Curving his knees, the boy arches his back. Twisting her wasp waist, the girl pushes her bosom. Four pink pant-tails are flapping in the wind. Two pairs of jade legs stretch side by side. For these spring games, how many know its true meaning? Once the posts are removed, lie deserted holes!” (The Swing)

However, Hồ Xuân Hương not only liked to describe copulation between men and women, but she also enjoyed detailing the female form through sensuous imagery, as if she herself were being enchanted by her own words.

“My body is both white and round, In water and hills, I now swim, now sink. Whether I be soft or hard, depends on your playful hand, But I still shall keep my true red heart.” (The Floating Cake, Copy of Xuân Hương Poetry version)

“A gorge, a gorge, and yet, the same old gorge. Praise to whoever has gouged out this scene: A lurid red cave with a bushy arch, And rich green boulders covered with algae. Now the stiff wind blows, shaking pine branches. Dewdrops dripping from willow leaves. You who are virtuous, or saintly, who hasn’t tried, Even with weak knees, exhausted feet, to mount it?” (Ode to Ba Dội Gorge, Recorded Collection of National Literature version)

“Summer breeze gently flows from the east, A girl lies to rest but she slips into a deep sleep. Her bamboo comb is loosely attached to her hair, Her pink undergarment drops low on her waist. Virgin dew still veils her two fairy mounts, Water has yet flown through her garden of paradise. Upon noticing, a gentleman hesitates to pass by, Much difficult to leave but troubled if he stays.” (Ode to Sleep, Recorded Collection of National Literature version)

Normally, these poems were analyzed through heteronormative lens, in which Hồ Xuân Hương saw herself as the women in her works, displaying the feminine sexual power under Vietnam’s patriarchal oppression. However, when applying queer theory, these works could be viewed from a different perspective: Hồ Xuân Hương might’ve been writing from the man’s point of view. This was merely a hypothesis, but if the phenomenon of feminized Confucian scholars existed, then there could also exist a masculinized female scholar. Under queer theory, if Hồ Xuân Hương was indeed writing under a male gaze, her works would explode in homoerotic sensuality, particularly of sapphic nature.

Furthermore, Hồ Xuân Hương also had a poem addressed to a woman named Mộng Lan (literally ���orchid dream”). There were many theories to explain this work: maybe Mộng Lan was the nickname of a certain man; maybe Mộng Lan was a close friend of hers. But once the poem’s atmosphere was clearly displayed, one could feel the evocation of romance.

“The wind already blows orchid breeze, But the air grows cooler as we meet. The ode to snow continues to echo, My unfinished wine cup still awaits the moon. Chariots, cannons, and horses fight bravely on the chessboard, The instrument strings in twangs and twings, To whoever dreams of my soulmate, Please don’t hesitate to speak.” (To the Flirtatious Lady Mộng Lan, Collection of Unwanted Weed version)

Did the Lady of Nôm Poetry not only write to undermine the Confucian patriarchy, to challenge the oppression of female sexual expression, but also to break the standard of sexuality and gender identity? Could she not only like men, but also women? Could she be bisexual?

In the 17th and 18th centuries, Vietnamese society suffered greatly under the ravaging wars between Cochinchina and Tonkin. While Cochinchina of the south was more relaxed in ideologies, the northern Tonkin was restricted greatly due to Confucianism. According to historian Tạ Chí Đại Trường, due to political and moral suppression, many northern Vietnamese authors would borrow the perspectives and words of women, essentially hiding under a feminine shadow, writing metaphors through another gender. They became known as feminized Confucian scholars. He also noted that many scholars also hid under the pen name of Hồ Xuân Hương.

==================

HỒ XUÂN HƯƠNG LÀ SONG TÍNH LUYẾN ÁI?

Hồ Xuân Hương 胡春香 (1772 – 1822) là một đại thi hào của Việt Nam, được mệnh danh là Bà chúa thơ Nôm 婆主詩喃. Hầu hết thi ca Hồ Xuân Hương theo dòng chảy chung đã thoát được các quan niệm sáng tác cố hữu vốn đề cao niêm luật chặt chẽ để bộc lộ được tiếng nói của thời đại mình; có nhiều người cho rằng đặc sắc của thơ bà là “thanh thanh tục tục 清清俗俗.” Thơ của Hồ Xuân Hương nổi tiếng táo bạo, đầy gợi cảm, đặc biệt là các bài miêu tả giao hợp rất chân thật, bạch hoá tình dục một cách khác hoàn toàn các thơ ca dao cùng mô típ của phụ nữ Việt Nam.

“Bốn cột khen ai khéo khéo trồng, Người thì lên đánh kẻ ngồi trông. Trai co gối hạc khom khom cật, Gái uốn lưng ong ngửa ngửa lòng. Bốn mảnh quần hồng bay phấp phới, Hai hàng chân ngọc duỗi song song. Chơi xuân đã biết xuân chăng tá, Cọc nhổ đi rồi, lỗ bỏ không!” (Đánh đu)

Thế nhưng, Hồ Xuân Hương không chỉ thích miêu tả tình dục giữa trai với gái, mà còn thích diễn tả thân thể phụ nữ một cách mê hoặc gợi tình, như thể bà cũng đang bị từng chữ của mình hấp dẫn vào.

“Thân em vừa trắng lại vừa tròn, Bảy nổi ba chìm mấy nước non. Mềm rắn nhờ tay quân tử vọc, Khăng khăng vẫn giữ tấm lòng son.” (Bánh trôi nước, bản Xuân Hương thi sao 春香詩抄)

“Một đèo một đèo lại một đèo, Khen ai khéo đặt cảnh cheo leo. Cửa son đỏ hoét tùm um móc, Hòn đá xanh rì lún phún rêu. Lắt lẻo cành thông cơn gió thốc, Đầm đìa lá liễu giọt sương gieo. Hiền nhân quân tử ai là chẳng, Mỏi gối chồn chân vẫn muốn trèo.” (Vịnh đèo Ba Dội, bản Quốc văn tùng kí 國文叢記)

“Mùa hè hây hẩy gió nồm đông, Tiên nữ nằm chơi quá giấc nồng. Lược trúc chải cài trên mái tóc, Yếm đào trễ xuống dưới nương long. Ðôi gò Bồng Đảo sương còn ngậm, Một lạch Đào Nguyên suối chửa thông. Quân tử dùng dằng đi chẳng dứt, Đi thì cũng dở ở sao xong.” (Vịnh nằm ngủ, bản Quốc văn tùng kí 國文叢記)

Bình thường thì những câu thơ này đều được phân tích theo định chuẩn hoá dị tính, là bà xem mình trong quan điểm của các cô gái trong thơ, hiển thị sức mạnh tình dục của đàn bà dưới áp chế của phụ hệ. Thế nhưng, nếu ứng dụng thuyết lệch pha, thì có thể xem các loạt thơ này dưới ánh nhìn khác: Hồ Xuân Hương có thể đang viết dưới quan điểm của các quân tử. Đây chỉ là giả thuyết, nhưng nếu đã có hiện tượng nhà Nho lại cái, thì không việc gì cái không thể lại nhà Nho. Nếu đọc các câu thơ dưới thuyết lệch pha, là bà thơ Nôm đang viết dưới ánh nhìn của đàn ông, thì thơ sẽ biểu lộ rạch ròi những miêu tả gợi cảm hướng tới cảm quan đồng tính, cụ thể là đồng tính nữ.

Không chỉ thế, Hồ Xuân Hương còn có một bài thơ gửi một nữ sĩ tên Mộng Lan. Có nhiều thuyết để giải thích thơ: có thể Mộng Lan là biệt danh của một chàng trai nào đó; có thể Mộng Lan là bạn thân thiết của bà. Nhưng nếu diễn lại cảnh trong thơ, thì cũng có thể gợi ra các yếu tố lãng mạn.

“Gió thổi hơi Lan đã mát lừng, Tự nhiên gặp gỡ cũng vì chưng. Câu thơ Vịnh tuyết còn văng vẳng, Chén rượu chờ trăng vẫn ngấn lưng. Cờ muốn thi gan xe pháo mã, Đàn còn lựa gảy tính tình tưng. Nhắn ai mơ kẻ tri âm đó, Xin ngỏ lời ra chớ ngập ngừng.” (Gởi tao nương Mộng Lan 寄騷娘夢蘭, bản T��p thảo tập 雜草集)

Phải chăng Hồ Xuân Hương đương thời viết thơ không chỉ để đá xéo chế độ phụ hệ Nho giáo, đập tan sự áp bức của chuẩn mực tình dục, mà còn vượt rào tiêu chuẩn của tính dục và giới tính? Phải chăng bà không chỉ thích nam giới, mà còn thích nữ giới? Phải chăng bà là song tính luyến ái?

Vào thế kỉ 17 đến 18, xã hội Việt Nam có nhiều biến động với sự chia cắt Đàng Trong và Đàng Ngoài. Khi Đàng Trong có vẻ phóng khoáng hơn, thì Đàng Ngoài, những Nho sĩ bị cấm đoán nhiều hơn. Theo lí giải của nhà sử học Tạ Chí Đại Trường 謝志大長, chính sự đè nén về chính trị và đạo đức đã khiến một bộ phận tác giả mượn lời người nữ, núp bóng đàn bà, chuyển giới tưởng tượng để thác lời, sáng tác; họ trở thành những nhà Nho lại cái. Ông cũng cho rằng đã có vài Nho gia núp bóng dưới cái tên của Hồ Xuân Hương.

__________ Tham khảo: talawas.org/talaDB/showFile.php?res=10067&rb=0102 thivien.net/Hồ-Xuân-Hương/author-PBy92bBuBMMs53v9tc9E0A tienve.org/home/literature/viewLiterature.do?action=viewArtwork&artworkId=3830

__________ *Định chuẩn hoá dị tính (heteronormativity): niềm tin dị tính xác định qua chuẩn mực hệ nhị phân giới để áp đặt lên lối sống, suy nghĩ, lịch sử, văn hoá của con người lẫn động vật, xem những thứ không chuẩn mực với hệ nhị phân giới là bất thường, không tự nhiên

*Hệ nhị phân giới (gender binary): sự phân loại giới thành hai thái cực đối lập nhau, hoặc là nam, hoặc là nữ, thường theo hệ thống xã hội hoặc theo từng vùng văn hoá

*Thuyết lệch pha (queer theory): một lí thuyết phê bình văn học chuyên quan tâm đến giới tính, tính dục, và tình dục; mục tiêu bao trùm là để giải cấu trúc các chuẩn mực trong xã hội, cụ thể là định chuẩn hoá dị tính, đồng thời điều tra cách thức và lí do chúng ra đời

*Cảm quan đồng tính (homoerotism): nhận thức và cảm nhận hướng tới đồng tính luyến ái

*Đồng tính nữ (lesbian): người phụ nữ bị lôi cuốn trên phương diện tình dục hoặc tình yêu bởi những người phụ nữ khác

*Song tính luyến ái (bisexuality): mối quan hệ hay chỉ sự hấp dẫn tình cảm hoặc tình dục của một người với hai giới tính, nam và nữ, hoặc là nhiều hơn một phái tính hay giới tính

[thatgamergirlakane]

Willow and Noel wish you a very happy (early) Christmas, and a happy new year (in case I'm not on at the time-)

Also, Noel's birthday is on Christmas too.

[lephamquynhnhu]

Panacea

Chapter 7 (End): Beyond the Promised Sky

Dan Feng x Fem!Reader

WARNINGS/ TAGS: The reader has a default name, OOC, mentioned blood, violence. (This is a work of fanfiction, events are not aligned or relevant to the original work)

Word count: 3k4

Summary: He met you on a drizzling day when hydrangea fully bloomed on its field. Amidst the sea of mild pastel petals, Dan Feng never thought the flowery domain that intertwined your fate was the precise thing withered with you. They said he was a dragon, a hero, a sinner, but never a person with love, hatred, sorrow, or joy like everyone else in this world. However, it was a demi-truth. He committed the cardinal sin because of you.

Note: For the first line, I express my special thanks to Dr.Lecter in the Hannibal series for being a valuable reference in this chapter. Secondly, I am glad I finished Panacea at another crucial moment since I got an offer letter as a Villa host in a five-star resort. Finally, thank you for following this fanfic.

Do you like...depression?

From the pitch-dark space emerged a pair of brunette eyes dotted with a brightened yellow hue. The monster stinks like grave soil and corpses, causing a death emanation marries with a cunning aura that gives off those pupils, making cold sweat cascade along his spine like a dewdrop.

"I can smell your fear, little dragon." - The prison starts when his whole body comes to light. A gigantic embodiment with six raven wings, limbs full of sharp claws like cathedral spears, and scales on his torso play as invincible armor.

"I am not afraid of you." - Dan Feng calmly places the document on the table and settles his seat, staring back with his bleak green eyes. By guaranteeing the current heart pulse is eighty per second, Imbibitor Lunae ascertains that his condition matches the requirements.

"I didn't claim that; instead, you fear losing someone." - "The scent of Mimosa accompanied by Stephania for a tranquilizer and mistletoe plus Datura metel for the patient with epilepsy. Besides, I can sniff a vague blood smell on your sleeves. You must be absolutely desperate to wield the traditional approach to lengthen their lifespan when Cloudhymm is powerless." - The monster sniggers, his sinister smile spreading unto the earlobes to unravel abnormal canines. Primus Immortus may be evil, yet he is still an excellent apothecary with sensitive olfaction. Therefore, he can detect advantageous traces. However, Dan Feng remains silent with decorum, and his stern expression behind the cell is unreadable.

On the other hand, Primus Immortus is pleased with the end of his filthy soul because he has never drunk anything sublime like the sorrow of the High Cloud quintet. His nutrition is savoring people's misery. Like a hound, Immortus can sniff woes from the High Elder's irises handily obscured beneath the solemn mantle. He would like to play around the bush and pull more strings, yet his other side stops him punctually to secure the plan he is brewing. Primus Immortus decides to cooperate and comply with Dan Feng's testimony in exchange for the spanking sip he took because he knows he is the controller.

After the chaotic occurrence, Dan Feng received a poem that followed him via a micrometer of the security door. Echoing every corner of the shadowy corridor is a sarcastic treble.

"Amaranthine dawn shines through

Blushing clouds,

O willow-silk rain,

Blasting confederate roses."

The Long Scion exasperatedly slams the document on the table, and his chair shrieks in displeased noise as he takes the seat. Dan Feng has long forgotten the last time he was infuriated like this, and those cursed eyes keep haunting his mind when he is writing the report. That doomed prison was manipulating his emotions like a puppet while Dan Feng received a dump of garbage. Nonetheless, the topic Immortus mentioned hitting at Imbibor Lunae's bullseye just by a whiff nay, he hates to admit that Primus Immortus was right. He is hopeless.

After a couple of weeks, your condition has increased to a critical point, and the current treatment barely satisfies his purpose. Your aging process arises tremendously combined with Alzheimer and age-related macular degeneration. Moreover, you are even incapable of changing clothes or doing daily tasks, and the epilepsy is now unable to be depressed. The scenario of withered begonia beside your dressing table compared with your aging complexion beneath the pale moonlight. Those things lead him to a dead end.

The black ink spreads bolder and bolder, contrasting with underneath white papers as the High Elder immersed in wandering thought, then a pair of brunette irises with a light amber hue reappears and blends into the hollow void until his brush pan breaks in half as a token to snap him back to reality. In the dim light of his office, a sliver of thin incense smoke undulates around the space and tenderly swirls at his untouched document with a parallel line "North obligation. Absolute death is reverse." Imbibitor Lunae leaves a heavy sigh to review the conversation between him and Dan Shu at the medicine library. She handed the High Elder an ancient scroll of practicing black arts - an approach to ascend Zhen Ren, a higher being that can reach Nirvana to obtain an elixir without concocting.

"How do you...know?" - He clenched his sleeve, hiding his astonishment behind the limitless bookshelves while Dan Shu feigned to browse her file along the Braille, her snowy skin tone fingertips kissed book spines like a scanner as she relied.

"We handicapped always have other summit senses when losing another. Thus, I am able to read your energy. It is turbulent as an abyssal despair. You are going to lose someone, and you can't do anything. The search statistic of Liberian shows that you are trying to look for a unique recipe even though you attempted to deceive the system."

She stopped her line and pulled out a large book covered with leather and golden letters. "Your aura reminds me of my old wound, so I decided to help you. However, this is as far as I could help, and may good fortune always find your journey. " - Dan Shu then left like the wind.

On the last day of Primus Immortus, he probably is sick of the testimony questions and does not cooperate with Dan Feng anymore. Instead, he suggests a quid-pro-quo to gain "dignified" answers that Imbibitor Lunae accepts abruptly. Behind the ironic bars, Immortus seems to enjoy every moment of this trade-off game since his raven swings shaking and massive claws rake at the tense atmosphere when he listens to Dan Feng's childhood.

"What a tragic fate." - Primus Immortus monologues and eyes the opposite person - "Growing up with the destined mission and carrying the name of the High Elder through countless ages. Building up and bringing out the name of the High-Cloud quintet to this cosmos, plus witnessing its fall. But alas, you will eventually lose the one who sees you as Dan Feng."

"Does she remember your name? How does it feel when you kiss her?" - The monster adjusts his volume as the Long Scion is still busy scribbling his precedent answers, and the vibe changes rapidly. Cyan orbs sparkling like a torch illuminate all features of his countenance, a warning to remind Immortus has crossed the line because the marshall or a judge might hear their little play-game. Nonetheless, he is pleased with Dan Feng's reaction as his saliva rolls down and drops to the ground. Moreover, if there were not Celest Gold restraining his swings, people could hear the sound of swings behind the cell. Primus Immortus vigilantly stares back to watch how deep his string roots at the High Elder's soul.

"I have the last needed element to aid you in achieving your wish, Little Dragon. It will grant you the primal power equals Permanence." - He lowers his voice with vicious eyes glowing under the dark bangs and awaits the crackling spirit. Conversely, Imbibitor Lunae closes his tabs and readily leaves the cell, indicating that his heart is as solid as Marmorean. Looking at Dan Feng's retreating figure blending into the corridor, the monster reveals his last trump card:

"What if I said Zhen Ren could drink up the four seas?"

To Primus Immortus' expectation, the High Elder's footstep gives a halt as his heart pulse is immovable for a millisecond when hearing that sentence. He knows love affairs may not be enough to convince Imbibitor's fall, yet it will make a difference with the topic of compatriot.

Saving the Vidyadhara race is a proper reason to unlock the black arts.

However, Dan Feng merely breathes out and marches toward the security door without a glance, leaving behind his resonating footsteps from afar.

"How wick." - a familiar metallic voice reverberates at the unfathomable depth of the Premilinary Prison as Primus Immortus amuses himself without looking up at the frontal man. His white chignon is tied hard by a Dalbergia hairpin and remains motionless like a marble monument while a scarlet pupil glows amidst unstable light. Although half of his face emerges in the pitch-black dark, no one is unaware of his position.

Yinxing from the High-Cloud Quintet demanded an informal appointment with Primus Immortus.

He slowly detaches an electronic bug at the table's edge and smashes his hand-made device into dust: "What is in exchange for your 'last element'?"

The monster looks excited as hearing another member of the legendary team exploit his secret. A group of esteemed figures created illustrious feats and miracles for everyone but themselves, so their misery is holly nectar to Immortus, and occurrences are flowing as his scheme. The ivory canines spread across his twisted face when he speaks.

"What a pity. You are ineligible to operate 'that thing' properly. Only a descendant with a divine bloodline grants the privilege of touching it, and I already have had my things. However, if you successfully convince Little Dragon, you both may attain your joint target."  

Just as Primus Immortus expected, Yinxing's mind wavers like a dribble of water to cause a micro crackle in his spirit, and a triumphant smile stretches on his maniacal face. After the blink of an eye, everything is upside down as the blurring surroundings are confused into another timeline. Standing beside him are the rest of the High-Cloud Quintet, and Yinxing could say they are different yet the same people simultaneously. They wear unusual uniforms while idly chattering about ordinary topics under the cement ground with crowded transportation. To Yinxing, this scene seems peaceful, a surreal life that is too good to be true. As a result, he swings his sword to tear the unfolding illusion, but a flow of smoke lingers at his blade.

The girl who shares Bai Heng features said they nestle in the body of an Outer God, and she is the Paradox Guardian - named Dao Zhen - a doppelganger of Bai Heng from the other world. She exposes that this timeline used to exist but was erased because the history selected and ramified. Immortus possesses a kind of mystic eyes playing the role of an alien door leading to another Dimension by hypnotizing Yinxing and extracting a fragment of his conscience into an Outer God's body.

"If you stay with me permanently, we can live in any possible context." - She whispers beside Yinxing's earlobe and intertwines her fingers - "You love this face, don't you?'' - A cold exhale sweeps through as Dao Zhen grazes her nose against his collar, she tries to orientate him to become a second Guardian; as for Yinxing perspective, he finds it is a dilemma yet he decides to bare the sword to clarify his decision.

"Fight me if you dare! I will resurrect her and rebuild the High-Cloud Quintet. Not living in your cheap illusion arts." - He conceded Dan Feng in testimony privilege since he has never been into mundane activities in prison. Hence, Yinxing vaguely learned his unpublished situation. They can become an antagonist duo like Primus Immortus suggested.

The blade slashes Dao Zhen's afterimage and causes a space-shifting while his sword tip points at her and eventually claims his victory after an intense battle. Yinxing sees Dao Zhen vomit a wooden box and turns into black mud flowing toward his heels.

Abruptly, a recognizable ceiling of a clinic appears in front of his eyesight while gripping an exquisite carving box.

Light still shines brightly at the Artisanship Commission despite the darkness covering the sky in a black mantle because there will be a massive parade to welcome a new Yaoqing general called Feixiao. The former presider was assassinated when he traveled with his wife in a hot spring, but Her Ladyship is missing. Many rumors vine around and wander in their vicinity, yet Feixiao apropos quenched and controlled them.

Listing ordnance, checking the quality of gunpowder, and solidifying human resources remain coursing vibrantly before the kick-off event. People even could hear the sledgehammer of blacksmiths from afar.

Meanwhile, Yinxing and Dan Feng are discreetly confronting each other at the Fyxestroll Garden.

"You don't wish the High-Cloud Quintet to return to its renaissance?" - his reprimanded voice arouses the placid serenity between them since Imbibitor Lunae selected another path.

"It is a part of history, and we must respect the past. Stop striving to rewrite it like a moth to a flame because death cannot resurrect. Seeking immortality is illegal." - the Long Scion intends to turn his back and march forth, yet his heels halt when Yinxing reveals his buried secret.

"Although the Yaoqing has forfeited their wanted poster, they will pay seven trillion credits for Bai Lin's head, plus executioners will continuously send out to chase her to every galaxy corner. Furthermore, Feixiao is also here."

"I don't know what are you... " - an explosion swiftly roars through the inky sky from the Artisanship Commission, interrupting Dan Feng's sentence. A red-orange hue burns radiantly at a corner, and charcoal fumes flare up violently. Neither do they present punctually, nor do they put out the fire with ordinary water. The oil and gas will aggravate the situation; in addition to this plight, numerous Vidyadhara people assemble crowdedly for the parade - the last straw of limit breakthrough.  

"Zhen Ren can drink up the four seas." - the High Elder stares at the Paradox box in his hand while Yinxing repeats an accustomed clause.

They are standing at the center of an invisible hexagon made from six Suppression Towers and ready to practice black arts. Inside the Paradox box is a pair of Mystic Eyes of a deceased Abundance Emanator, which is eligible to open the Supremacy Boundary to ascend the Long Scion and become a higher being. The left eye is a mirror to look through the past, and the right one is the key to unlocking the pruning future. To rewrite reality and unleash that power, they need to feed it with all heliobi in the Suppression Towers.

Dan Feng and Yinxing should have succeeded if they had complied with the Five Element Order.

"North obligation. Absolute death is reverse."

The hexagon's apex must face northward, yet they did not notice the line in Dan Feng's ancient scroll that led to a retrorse geometry against the feng shui order, causing the Grand Calamity to befall Loufu. The supposed door turned into a mirror that reflects the Backside of this world, drawing fantastic monsters to come through. Thousands of mythological creatures, demonic monsters, even Abundance abominations belligerent and wild beasts with Evil Dragons acting as their leader, descended upon Xianzhou, and the mirror is like a black hole hanging over the firmament with lethal levin.

On that day, no one dares to reminisce or talk about that appalling scene, and nobody records the precise duration of the catastrophe. They only remember the death toll with injured victims was unbearable, thousands of missing people. On top of that, the monsters' blood caused acid rain, melting agricultural fields and paralyzing their trading traffic, which caused all economic activities to stagnate. To mobilize all resources, Jing Yuan procrastinated the Ten-Lords Commission's warrant and approved the duel culprits Yinxing - Dan Feng temporarily attending Luofu's frontier. Additionally, he requested military assistance from other Xianzhou ships to block the Backside mirror.

"I have another personal affair to do. Please, leave me three hours, then I will present before the judges." Imbibitor Lunae grits his teeth to press each word as if gathering the last ounce of his strength to prevent crumbling.

Under the lonesome Exalting Sanctum's ruin, Hanya and Xueyi only stay still amidst the sound of silence.

Until the Long Scion intends to throw away his pride and kneels before two sisters, they timely stop him and accept his favor. As a result, the twisted fate between you two is going to its epilogue.

A feather noise accidentally wakes you up from your slumber, which is followed by a soft fabric rustle. You attempt to mouth your words, but none of the names lingers in your mind, and the fragileness sounds weaker than you expected. All your vital energy seemingly ebbs away as you watch inky shadow prints on the wall. Dan Feng's countenance quickly shifts from concern to rest assured as a dissipating cloud when he sees you are safe and sound after the turmoil (Maybe the forest's mythopedia is true). You wonder why he acts so weirdly as rushing to capture your wilt frame into his embrace, and the nose bridge presses against your nap coldly while Dan Feng's hot breath fans over your baby hair unstably. Although you no longer recognize this man, a comfortable warmth radiating from him is half acquainted, half foreign, and you realize the High Elder is quivering.

His clothed back soaks with sweat as your hand brushes the long locks, fingertips gently touching the fancy fabric pattern. A short-lived memory enlightens your foggy mind after a few stroking, bringing back a feeble sunray in your opaque irises.

"Ah...I remember who you are. Dan Feng, isn't it? It looks like I just woke up from a long dream." - He does not answer or proceed to any conversation, or in other words, his throat is stuck with a fiery lump, just inhaling the mild white tea fragrance in your hair as though mesmerizing it into his soul.

"I want to watch the dawn with you." - Your respiratory is getting weaker and unstable when resting your head against his firm chest.

"Can we wait until you get better?" - Dan Feng contemplates the gray sky beyond your window as a flock of birds flies across the hermitical horizon. However, he quickly surrenders your stubbornness afterward. The High Elder carries you towards the usual spot - an eminence used to sightseeing in your pasture.

The coziness from his exhale thawing the thin frost on your senile face wakes you up from a short nap. The purplish canvas tinge with a rosy hue and pastel orange color while dewy grass dances in morning winds, you two quietly await the rising sun. Your eyes shimmer in amazement when seeing old comrades standing afar and wavering hands toward your side. The sun shines around them like crowning a laurel halo.

"It...is impossible. Regardless of your wraith, I am happy to see you guys again." - You mutter under your breath as Irene wags her wedding bouquet, and Huang Yuan offers his hand to you while Pumpkin shakes his tail.

Nevertheless, your jubilance does not last long after a blink of an eye when the surroundings disappear into voidness, rendering your sightless eyes in which you do not feel any regrets backlog in your heart.

"Why do you look so sad, Feng?" - Your wilt hands full of freckles like a root trace his features to sense his sentiment.

"No, I am just..." - your hopeless motion abruptly intercepts the Long Scion's half-baked lie as you draw closer to give him one last kiss - "I couldn't wait for the next Autumn..." - However, you never get a chance to complete the line because your soul leaving even faster and the kiss forever falling on his shoulder.

Dan Feng dumbfoundedly gazes at the dazzling dawn and needs several seconds to process what is happening.

He desperately calls your name to wake you up but does not receive any response. Like a madman, Imbibitor Lunae carries your limp body toward the hydrangea garden and finally collapses from exhaustion. Amidst the sea of shriveling flowers, a useless person cradles his lover in anguish while the browny flower balls waver in soft breezes.

"Somebody....Somebody please save my Bai Lin!"

But alas, only the cricket chirping and leaves rustling sing your requiem. The sky is getting brighter, plus cotton clouds nonchalantly trekking across a pair of emerald orbs, and it is not raining. But why does water keep cascading on his face? Why can he not save his loved one even though he committed Ten Unpardonable Sins? Individuals often pray to them to be endowed with grace, but whom will he pray to?

After your death, the man who sees the world possesses an unparalleled power to traverse clouds and bestow rain, shaping forms as the world's of essence beckon, has already decided his fate. If he can not save you, Dan Feng will die with you.

Endnote: Alright! Who dies next? Gepard or Argenti?

[emotional-squid]

More of my toh x ghost crossover au

Do you guys think there’s a boiling isles version of Satan

[gravehags]

i must confess to you (i want to possess you)

Pairing: Cumulus x f!Reader

Rating: Explicit

18+ ONLY MINORS DO NOT INTERACT

Tags: sinister Cumulus, stalking, brief description of fingering, possessive ghoulettes

Words: 991

Summary: She knows immediately upon seeing you that you're meant to be hers.

a/n: Listen I can have a little sinister Cumulus action, as a treat. Prequel to my previous fic fever for the fire, so I def recommend giving that a read first.

divider by @ghuleh-recs

It starts in the garden.

Cumulus sees you on your knees, cheeks flushed and glistening in the sun as you dig your fingers in the damp soil and help Papa Primo plant his dahlias. She watches you from behind a pillar, eyes tracing over what is exposed of your form in your habit. The way your chest heaves with effort, the way you rest back on your haunches and wipe the sweat from your face with a smile.

She knows then she must have you.

Your main duties lie within the confines of the library, so she begins to hang around there more often, making sure to don her mask for relative anonymity. So diligent in your work, brows knitted as you help other siblings find the books they seek, the skirt of your habit hiking up your legs when you reach for a text. Cumulus adores the way you grin at yourself while reshelving books, so often flipping through pages to sate your own curiosity. I want to be the reason for that smile, she thinks hungrily, fingers flexing at her sides, ever-longing to touch you. She knows you’ve spotted her every once in a while, and she revels in the way your gaze lingers on the curve of her breasts and backside. You blush at the slightest provocation and late at night in her room, Cumulus thinks of that blush as she slips her fingers inside of herself. 

You prefer to take your lunch breaks in one specific courtyard, one that is quiet and more intimate than the others at the abbey. Often you can be found curled up on the grass under the willow tree, snacking happily on whatever you’ve brought for yourself that day. You are such a lonely thing - you don’t have admirers flocking to you nor do you really spend your time with anyone else. It simultaneously makes Cumulus ache for the need in your heart, while also feeling relieved that no one else but her shows an interest in you. You are, after all, hers.

Soon, though, the observations from afar are simply not enough. She needs to be closer, to watch you unencumbered by the threat of other eyes. The growing desire to have you all to herself spreads like wildfire in her heart. So, one night, she transforms herself into mist and floats through your open bedroom window. When she manifests in her body she gasps upon seeing you. You’re fast asleep on your back, arms lying outside the covers. In an instant she’s at your side, ghosting her hand along your form while never really touching you. She admires the way your hair spills on the pillow as your snore softly, illuminated by moonlight. You are the most beautiful creature she has ever seen and it takes all her willpower not to place her lips on you.

Soon enough.

She watches you for an hour, maybe two, delighting in the little noises you make in your sleep. How desperately she wishes to slip into bed beside you, pull you close until she can smell your shampoo, then slide her hand in between your legs to wake you with a delicious surprise. 

Soon enough.

The next day, when talk begins to spread of a little party for the library staff happening later in the week, Cumulus sees an opportunity. She has a plan. She confides in Dewdrop about her desire for you and, with a sharp grin, he agrees to assist her. Cumulus suggests to one of your coworkers that they should invite you and then, perhaps, at some point in the evening, abandon you. The sibling is perplexed but when Cumulus brings the threat of speaking to Papa about the matter, they are more than eager to comply. 

The plan is set, all she needs to do is wait.

Cumulus delights in the warm evening air from her spot on the lounge, patiently waiting for your arrival. When she hears heels on the stone floor coming her way, she is filled with excitement and arousal. This is it. You step into the courtyard and remove your shoes, sighing heavily but not noticing her. Not until she speaks up, causing you to jump in fright. You’re irritated but pliable as you join her on the lounge, and Cumulus has to restrain herself from laughing triumphantly when your gaze lingers on the exposed swell of her breasts. You’re so filled with emotion and barely contained lust, it’s all she can do not to grab you and have her way with you on the spot.

But it turns out, that’s not necessary.

You give yourself to her willingly.

The first time your lips touch hers she feels as if she’s hovering ten feet over her body. So long she’s wanted this, and now here you are, so desperate for her. When she slides her fingers inside of you she delights in the abundance of your slick and the way you clench around her. You’re glorious like this, fucking yourself on her hand, and she cannot wait to see you come completely undone. Your thighs shake with the effort of holding yourself up, so Cumulus decides to finish the job for you, desperate to see you come. When it happens, she feels such an exaltant rush watching you keen and arch on top of her that it’s almost as if she's climaxed herself. You collapse on her, panting and when Cumulus slips her fingers into her mouth to taste you her eyes roll back in her head. You’re everything she’s dreamed of and more. When you tell her that the two of you should take this somewhere else, somewhere more intimate, Cumulus’ heart is filled to bursting. 

“I know a place,” she says as the two of you stand, taking you by the hand and leading you towards the ghoul den.

Pretty, sweet, thing.

She has no intention of letting you go.