#nymph verse

[screaming-cicada]

literally fight me but the spot is so babygirl and i WILL die on his hill

i want to KISS that goofy guy and call him pretty until he melts

[nymphapunkcake]

I have been bitten by a magic-radioactive spider and for the past 3 and a half years I've been the one and only...

𝒮𝓅𝒾𝒹𝑒𝓇 - 𝒩𝓎𝓂𝓅𝒽

ʙᴜᴛ ʏᴏᴜ ᴄᴀɴ ᴊᴜsᴛ ᴄᴀʟʟ ᴍᴇ ᴇʟғɪᴇ.

*•.¸♡

I'm 25 years old and I'm a artist-designer (and other stuff) from Argentina. Although Elfie is the name of my spidersona, my idea right now is to almost merge with her here on Tumblr (she's basically me lol) My content however is multifandom and about things that interest me. From time to time I upload some pics of myself and photos that I like to take of the places I visit or write my thoughts.

Regarding the 𝐒𝐏𝐈𝐃𝐄𝐑𝐕𝐄𝐑𝐒𝐄 content (plus exclusive Spider Nymph content) you can enjoy stuff like memes, drawings, short-stories and whatever the hell comes to my head.

And a lot, A LOT of Hobie Brown. Wich btw, I ship myself with him.

If you've read this far, thank you baby ♡ have a cup of tea🍵

✿.｡.:* ☆:**:. 𝕀 𝕙𝕠𝕡𝕖 𝕥𝕠 𝕤𝕖𝕖 𝕪𝕠𝕦 𝕙𝕖𝕣𝕖 𝕒𝕘𝕒𝕚𝕟 .:**:.☆*.:｡.✿

[cpirits]

(( @bridesoftheshamans || moved

“My lord!!” Nymphe rushed right up to Hao, medical supplies in hand. Now that the fight was over, and her beloved lord’s opponent was in ashes, there wasn’t a moment to loose! It was impressive that they even managed to wound Lord Hao at all, but so much blood…unacceptable! “May I tend to you, Lord Hao?” After all, her lord didn’t like being touched unless he said so…but the bleeding! Not to mention, once the blood dried it was bound to get uncomfortable…

★ ━━━━━━ The moment his opponent screamed their last breath, Hao didn't even lift a finger to command the Spirit of Fire to burn them to ashes, his chest burning with bubbling laughter at the fact that they had gotten into a fist fight-- the weakling had managed to wound him, but then Hao had pierced a hole in their stomach, causing it to burn so that their insides were smoldering.

It was a delight to him, causing the end of another, though he now ached a little of his injuries, though they weren't horrible; a little blood down his face from a jab he took to the brow, and his chest had been cut by the other's spirit, if it could be called that. Said being was gobbled up by the Spirit of Fire before anything could even happen, and that left the Shaman helpless.

His hand that had pierced the other, fingers were popped into his mouth as he licked them clean of gore and blood. His eyes were dark with enjoyment from the interaction, and he then noticed his Rabbit coming over; she had been waiting patiently for him nearby, he never wanted her to get involved in his fights unless he said so, or asked for her, she was his EVERYTHING.

His hand left his mouth and he stood, waiting for Nymphe to reach him, bringing first aid and his poncho he had discarded when the fight began-- though it wasn't much of one.

"Ah-- there you are Nymphe." He smiled at her like it was natural for him to look as he did, perhaps his mind compartmentalized disaster and things like injury so he could focus on other things like bringing down those in his way, and of course enjoying his Rabbit's presence, her body...

His eyes focused on her, desired her touch. Though he was adamant about no touch usually, his body felt like it was on fire (pun intended) after the destruction of the other Shaman-- the Human. No one could compare to Hao, everyone else but his little band was completely worthless-- except for Yoh...

"You may touch. I frankly don't mind the blood, it is my own after all." He promptly sat cross-legged on the ground for her to patch him up of her own accord, though his wounds would heal easily enough, he'd wear the dressings to humor her, keep her happy.

[inexplicifics]

Essi decides she's going to go find out what has happened to Jaskier. She succeeds, with the help of a satyr who turns out to be just what she didn't know she wanted.

[songbirdsandsugar-moved]

Lucy began having visions as a young girl. She kept quiet about them though out of fear of being shunned and ridiculed. For the most part, she was able to carry on without them being too much of a problem.

However, when her mother fell ill, the visions became difficult for Lucy to handle. As she sank into a depression, the visions became darker. She began trying to suppress them with drugs and alcohol, only for them to worsen instead. Lucy barely got any peace. She was haunted by dark visions in her sleep as well as during waking hours. The more she succumbed to her depression and addiction, the harder it became for her to manage.

Shortly after her mother's passing, Lucy had a breakdown while working. She was on stage when she went into a violent fit trying to "escape" the monsters she was seeing in her head. Fortunately, no one was injured, however, Lucy was committed to Green Meadows Sanitarium a few days later.

From the outside, the building looked like a palatial estate. A cozy place for patients to heal, recover, and learn how to manage their mental ailments. There was even a lovely courtyard with a garden and attached greenhouse for the patients to tend to. Inside, it was sterile white walls and cold staff members.

As Lucy suffered withdrawals from her chosen vices and was forced medication, her nightmares and visions became worse than ever. The doctors tried hard to convince her that it was only in her head, that none of it was real, and they were only there to help. Lucy refused to listen or believe them though. She knew otherwise.

She became prone to violent outbursts each time she had a vision which would result in her being confined to her room for some period of time. Each one lasting longer than the last, to a point that they would begin to restrain Lucy out of fear that she would hurt herself.

The whispers began during the first confinement. Lucy laid in her bed, staring up at the ceiling. There was an itch, just in the back of her mind. Whispers she couldn't quite make out. With each confinement, the whispers grew louder and clearer. From her room, she could look down into the courtyard. Even with the straight jacket wrapped tightly around her, she'd stand by her window, listening to the whispers.

A wicked smile stretched across her lips as she watched the vines creeping along the ground and climbing the stone bricks of the courtyard walls. The vines dug in, pulling at the walls, finding their way through crevices into the building. The plants began to grow to massive sizes, bursting through the green house ceiling to join the rest of the garden in the terraformation of Green Meadows. Patients and staff alike were taken. Those who weren't strangled and smothered by the vines were absorbed into the plants. Lucy's laughter mixed with their agonized screams in a twisted symphony as Green Meadows crumbled around her.

She is uncertain at what point the dark fog began to roll in, filling the halls as patient and staff alike ran for their lives. But when it was over, she found herself somewhere new. The ruins of Green Meadows was now her garden kingdom to rule over, as long as she was willing to participate in the trials making sacrifices to The Entity that she seen as her savior. Lucy isn't aware that The Entity is not in fact Mother Nature, but sees The Entity as such anyways. She believes the ability to control the plants around her is a gift from Mother Nature The Entity, oblivious to the fact that it came from within her.

Being on the petite side and not very strong, Lucy uses the plants in her realm (or any other realm she participates in a trial in) to her advantage. Using them to both trap Survivors as well as using the vines to lift and hook them for sacrifices.

[blueheartbookclub]

"Whispers of Wonderland: Arthur Edward Waite's Dance with the Fairies"

Arthur Edward Waite, known for his profound contributions to mysticism and esotericism, unveils a lesser-known facet of his literary prowess in "A Lyric of the Fairy Land, and Other Poems." This collection, a tapestry of enchanting verses, demonstrates Waite's ability to transcend the boundaries of the mundane and beckon readers into the mystical realms of fairy tales and poetic reverie.

At the heart of the collection lies the titular poem, "A Lyric of the Fairy Land," a mesmerizing composition that serves as a portal to an otherworldly domain. Waite's verses, akin to incantations, evoke a sense of wonder, inviting readers to journey through landscapes where the veil between reality and fantasy is gossamer-thin. The poet employs rich and evocative language, creating a dreamscape where every word is a brushstroke, painting vivid images of ethereal landscapes and magical beings.

Waite's exploration of fairyland is not confined to mere whimsy; it is a profound quest that delves into the essence of human experience. Through the prism of fairy tales, he reflects on themes that resonate universally — love, loss, longing, and the perennial search for meaning. The poet infuses these timeless themes with a unique alchemy, transforming them into something both familiar and extraordinary.

The collection is a testament to Waite's mastery of poetic form and rhythm. Each poem is a carefully crafted jewel, showcasing his ability to weave intricate patterns of rhyme and meter. Whether capturing the ephemeral beauty of nature or delving into the mysteries of the human soul, Waite's verses are imbued with a musicality that enchants the reader and lingers in the mind long after the pages are turned.

As readers traverse the pages of "A Lyric of the Fairy Land," they find themselves in the company of sprites, nymphs, and other fantastical beings. Yet, beneath the surface, Waite invites contemplation on the intersection of the magical and the mundane, encouraging readers to see the extraordinary in the ordinary.

In conclusion, Arthur Edward Waite's "A Lyric of the Fairy Land, and Other Poems" is a captivating journey into realms where imagination reigns supreme. Through his poetic lens, Waite not only revitalizes the enchantment of fairy tales but also provides readers with a mirror to reflect on the deeper facets of their own lives. This collection stands as a testament to the enduring power of poetry to transport, transform, and illuminate the human experience.

"A Lyric of the Fairy Land, and Other Poems." by Arthur Edward Waite is available in Amazon in paperback 10.99$ and hardcover 18.99$ editions.

Number of pages: 136

Language: English

Rating: 8/10                                           

Link of the book!

Review By: King's Cat

[seaofserene]

" There is no way I am affiliated with that woman. "

[screaming-cicada]

spot let me inside your holes 🥺

[nightsongs]

@blightedhero

Nymphs were curious creatures at heart and Evolette was no different. She stayed hidden, watching the stranger at her campfire, until finally she decided to make herself known. She crept forward out of the thicket and crouched on the other side of the fire, tail swishing back and forth behind her.

"You've never come here before," she said, head tilting to the side. She gave the young woman a friendly smile. "Are you passing through?"

[nymphapunkcake]

11:35 p.m. Group chat, Spider band. The group meets Elfie (Spider Nymph)

GWEN: That sounds like a fun thing to do in cloudy days.

ELFIE: I know, I like my hobie a lot.

PAV: 😳😳 !!!??? DID YOU JUST SAID...

HOBIE: *appears magically in the chat*

well hello.

ELFIE: WAIT

GWEN: Wow, he's not gonna forget that.

Pav: I KNOW I WON'T. THIS IS TOOO CUUUUTE 🥺

HOBIE: she's right

ELFIE: HOBBY* wtf IT WAS THE SELF CORRECTOR!

HOBIE: yeah yeah, sure. as if something like that existed ELFIE: You know it exists, don't pretend you don't..

MILES: Oh boy. 🤣

HOBIE: 😏

[volansvir]

jason refusing to wake up?? than’s favorite nephew is morpheus and he is calling in a favor.

Chrissy, Wake Up! II Accepting

In Jason’s opinion, the godly interference is unnecessary. And perhaps cheating.

It’s at the exact moment that he’s being forced to watch the Greek counterpart of his father flirt that he shoots up in bed, hair a bit wild.

“No! No. No, thank you. I’m awake, and that was dirty pool, the pair of you.” He shudders. “If I ever get a nightmare like that again, I’m telling on you both to Pluto.”

[blueheartbooks]

"Whispers of Wonderland: Arthur Edward Waite's Dance with the Fairies"

Arthur Edward Waite, known for his profound contributions to mysticism and esotericism, unveils a lesser-known facet of his literary prowess in "A Lyric of the Fairy Land, and Other Poems." This collection, a tapestry of enchanting verses, demonstrates Waite's ability to transcend the boundaries of the mundane and beckon readers into the mystical realms of fairy tales and poetic reverie.

At the heart of the collection lies the titular poem, "A Lyric of the Fairy Land," a mesmerizing composition that serves as a portal to an otherworldly domain. Waite's verses, akin to incantations, evoke a sense of wonder, inviting readers to journey through landscapes where the veil between reality and fantasy is gossamer-thin. The poet employs rich and evocative language, creating a dreamscape where every word is a brushstroke, painting vivid images of ethereal landscapes and magical beings.

Waite's exploration of fairyland is not confined to mere whimsy; it is a profound quest that delves into the essence of human experience. Through the prism of fairy tales, he reflects on themes that resonate universally — love, loss, longing, and the perennial search for meaning. The poet infuses these timeless themes with a unique alchemy, transforming them into something both familiar and extraordinary.

The collection is a testament to Waite's mastery of poetic form and rhythm. Each poem is a carefully crafted jewel, showcasing his ability to weave intricate patterns of rhyme and meter. Whether capturing the ephemeral beauty of nature or delving into the mysteries of the human soul, Waite's verses are imbued with a musicality that enchants the reader and lingers in the mind long after the pages are turned.

As readers traverse the pages of "A Lyric of the Fairy Land," they find themselves in the company of sprites, nymphs, and other fantastical beings. Yet, beneath the surface, Waite invites contemplation on the intersection of the magical and the mundane, encouraging readers to see the extraordinary in the ordinary.

In conclusion, Arthur Edward Waite's "A Lyric of the Fairy Land, and Other Poems" is a captivating journey into realms where imagination reigns supreme. Through his poetic lens, Waite not only revitalizes the enchantment of fairy tales but also provides readers with a mirror to reflect on the deeper facets of their own lives. This collection stands as a testament to the enduring power of poetry to transport, transform, and illuminate the human experience.

"A Lyric of the Fairy Land, and Other Poems." by Arthur Edward Waite is available in Amazon in paperback 10.99$ and hardcover 18.99$ editions.

Number of pages: 136

Language: English

Rating: 8/10                                           

Link of the book!

Review By: King's Cat

[asterxles]

@fircmblcm​

“This isn’t quite what I had in mind when I recommended you get a puppy, Lord  Fraldarius.” Kinthos’ cheeks were crimson red, his hands balling into fists by his side, as he looked at the hood. “But if this is what you want...” Despite his embarrassment, Kinthos allowed the hood to be pulled over his head with no consequence; he secretly loved Felix’s demanding nature. “How can I be a good pup for you?”

[songbirdsandsugar-moved]

@manufactoredxbyxdesign continued from here: x

The scowl that twisted Lucy's features at his rejection wasn't necessarily intentional. Instead it was more a subconscious reaction formed out of frustration. "And who said I find you amusing?" she questioned, eyebrows arching. While she couldn't deny that she was amazed by what she'd seen him do, she was more curious about it than looking for some type of entertainment.

Arms crossed over her chest as her shoulders pulled back, straightening her posture as her features smoothed once again. Though at her petite size, she looked more like a petulant child who'd been scolded instead of a grown woman. "I was merely interested in how you're able to do that. I'm not looking for a court jester.

[salvagedsouls]

( v. awakening nature | nymph!angie )

angela didn’t know the “ family secret ” until nonna marta shows her. only ever small things, as she’s a child, but it’s proof enough of being different from everyone else, and matches the details of stories her father tells her when he tucks her in. it’s similar enough to stories from her mother too, on the nights papa is working late, though she doesn’t ask about it further until she’s a teenager. gets the feeling that doing so would have brought around more trouble than answers would have been worth. with answers, of course, comes more questions. what are we was a big one, the first obvious one. she wanted every scrap of their history, of their truth, even if the biggest rule was that she couldn’t tell anyone else. as creatures go, however, it turns out being a nymph is fairly passive. she’s happier with plants in the apartment, leaves tend to look a little greener if she’s nearby long enough, but there’s no real desire to try to force out more. angela doesn’t know her limits, nor does she care to run into a situation that means finding out. living a regular life is quite enough, and the two generations before her gives confidence that it’s possible in the first place. only angela isn’t as okay with rule number nine: eventually, you’re supposed to fade into obscurity.

angela ( and both sides of her family through at least her grandparents ) are nymphs, descended from those that originate in the greek lands. being a nature spirit, they do not age on the same spectrum as humans, and only some will live out with the humans as it takes a lot of careful magic to maintain a slow and constant change in body form. angela only begins to loosen her hold on this particular skill once she’s about twenty-four, and she’s young enough to not be concerned about keeping her youth being noticed just yet.

her dream to become a star on broadway still exists and is going strong, though angela is hesitant to dip into purposeful use of her abilities to try and get what she wants. angela doesn’t mind pretending to be human, as for all intents and purposes it’s really the only way she’s lived, but it’s easier to stick to the illusion the less she pushes at its boundaries.

angela also doesn’t have much knowledge on other supernaturals, though she understands they exist. there is no purposeful seeking them out, and the only nymphs she knows are her family.

[antinousletmehit]

Apollo and his lover got into an argument which he regrets deeply but reader is very mad at him and won't forgive him easily.The whole Olympus tries to get them together because they're fed up with Apollo's sad love poets and songs.

୨୧┇Apollo x reader

────୨ৎ──── ────୨ৎ──── ───

The great halls of Olympus were rarely silent. Gods bickered, muses sang, and the sound of nectar filled goblets clinking together echoed endlessly. But this particular week had been… different. It wasn’t the usual chorus of divine rivalry that filled the air. Instead, a melancholic voice, rich and golden, reverberated through the celestial mount, dragging everyone down with its relentless woe.

Apollo was heartbroken.

He sat on the steps of his golden temple, his lyre in hand, his head bowed as he sang yet another mournful ballad about his lover. She had refused to speak to him after a bitter argument, one involving—according to Hermes, who’d gleefully eavesdropped—a misunderstanding about Apollo’s ego and her need for space.

“I burn brighter than the sun itself,

But her light I cannot see.

Oh, cruel fates, to steal her love,

And leave her silence haunting me…”

“By the Styx, someone make him stop!” Hera groaned, massaging her temples as Apollo’s lament drifted into the great hall. “He’s been singing that same verse for three days straight.”

“And it’s getting worse,” Ares grumbled, leaning against his spear. “I’m this close to starting a war just to drown him out.”

Hestia, ever the voice of reason, frowned. “We can’t let him continue like this. He’s hurting.”

“And we’re suffering,” Poseidon interrupted, shaking his trident for emphasis. “Even my sea nymphs are complaining about hearing his sobs through the waves. My ocean, for gods’ sake.”

“Alright, everyone,” Athena said, standing up and raising a hand to silence the growing complaints. “Apollo’s our brother. He needs help. Instead of whining, let’s figure out how to fix this.”

“Fix it?” Hermes snorted, lounging on the armrest of her throne. “Good luck. The only thing that will shut him up is making up with his lover, and she won’t even look at him.”

Zeus, seated at the head of the hall, finally spoke. “Then we’ll have to make her listen.”

All eyes turned to him, surprise flickering across their faces. It wasn’t often that the King of the Gods intervened in romantic squabbles, but it was clear that even Zeus couldn’t endure another hour of Apollo’s sob songs.

“Who agrees?” Zeus asked, raising a commanding brow. One by one, every god and goddess in the room nodded. For once in their immortal lives, Olympus was united.

———-

The plan was set into motion that very evening. Each god took on a task, pooling their talents to create an elaborate display of apology that Apollo could deliver to his lover.

Aphrodite crafted a wreath of the finest roses, their petals shimmering like rubies under the starlight. “No mortal or immortal can resist the charm of my flowers,” she said smugly, twirling one between her fingers. Hephaestus forged a delicate necklace of golden threads, inlaid with tiny opals that shimmered with every color of the sky. Hermes wrote a letter, overflowing with poetic charm, and tucked it into a golden envelope. “This will sweep her off her feet,” he said, grinning. “No offense to Apollo, but I’ve got more flair for words.”

Even Dionysus contributed, brewing a wine so sweet and rich that a single sip could soothe the angriest heart. “Pair it with the necklace, and she’ll be wrapped around his finger,” he joked, handing the flask to Hera. Meanwhile, Athena and Artemis tried to coax Apollo into proper behavior. Artemis, his twin sister, stood before him with her arms crossed. “You’re embarrassing yourself,” she said bluntly. “If you want her back, stop singing about how miserable you are and do something about it.”

Apollo looked up from his lyre, his face streaked with golden tears. “But what if she doesn’t forgive me? What if I’ve lost her forever?” Athena placed a hand on his shoulder. “She loves you, Apollo. That doesn’t vanish overnight. But love requires effort, not just poetry. Show her you’re willing.”

For the first time in days, Apollo nodded, determination flickering in his sun bright eyes.

The following day, Apollo, armed with the gifts and a newfound resolve, approached his lover’s dwelling. The other gods watched from afar, peering through enchanted pools and reflective clouds, each silently praying their efforts would end the wailing. Apollo took a deep breath and knocked on the door. When she opened it, her expression was guarded, her gaze flicking to the bouquet, the necklace, and the letter clutched in his trembling hands.

“What do you want, Apollo?” she asked, her voice cool.

“I want to say I’m sorry,” he began, his voice steady but thick with emotion. “I let my pride get in the way, and I hurt you. I’ve spent days singing about how much I miss you, but Athena reminded me that words mean nothing without action. So I’m here.”

She studied him for a long moment, her expression unreadable. Then, slowly, she stepped aside, gesturing for him to come in. Back in the halls of Olympus, the gods watched as Apollo disappeared inside her home.

“Do you think it worked?” Hermes asked.

Artemis smirked, her arms crossed. “If it didn’t, he’ll be back here wailing in an hour.”

But the hour passed, and there was no wailing. Then another hour. And another.

At last, Zeus leaned back in his throne, a satisfied grin on his face. “Finally.”

For the first time in what felt like an eternity, peace returned to Olympus. And while they’d never admit it, the gods secretly congratulated themselves on the success of their rare, united effort.