#verse: enchanted forest

[fxckin-blackbeard]

A Stormy Evening

|| @pyramultimuse - Killian Jones ||

ᒥ🌟ᒧ—        A storm had been brewing, Edward knew it was coming the moment he went out to the stable to water and feed the horse that morning. The soft breeze, the eerie quiet in the trees, and one glance to the clouds in the sky he was certain. He was excited, truthfully. A wild storm brought him peace and calm. His time at sea taught him many men feared a storm, but never did Edward. Wild winds, unforgiving and ruthless waves, and unrelenting rain brought him nothing but a sense of belonging, as though the sea itself reflected his soul for what it was.

That evening, once the torrential rain and whipping winds had begun, he found himself slipping outside. Now, there he laid on the side of the fountain in the garden. One arm hung down in the fountain's water, swaying back and forth to feel the movement of the water against his skin. On his back, brown hues stare up at the grey clouds, Edward drifting off deep into his thoughts. Silver hair, dampened by the rain, splayed out over the marble, no longer able to be blown by the wind.

The man draws in a deep breath, taking in the scent of wet moss, leaves, and soil surrounding him. He can hear the sound of rain drops dancing on green leaves of the forest, only for the wind to whistle through mere moments later.

While he missed the soothing rock of the ship by swells, the creaking of old wood, and the smell of fresh salt on those wild winds, he had to admit enjoying a storm in the woods was nearly as soothing as it would be on the deck of the Queen Anne. It was certainly different, from sounds and smells, but it wasn't terrible.

Edward's head lulls to the side, and he watches rain disturb the surface of the fountain's water. It was no raging sea, but a look of calm and peace on his face said he didn't seem to care. And so, he'd happily enjoy the storm there on the fountain, arm lazily moving through the water as he continues to watch the downpour on the surface.

[struckdeals-a]

@nav1gating | sentence starter: accepting!

❛ it's not that simple. ❜

a flash of irritation crosses rumpelstiltskin's features. this obsession with morality is going to be the death of her. his hand stalls, however, sickly green potion hovering over a bubbling pot full of an inky liquid.

" i believe i brought you here as my maid, not my conscience, dearie, " he complains, mind shifting to the two dolls sitting in the display case of the dining room. " i've come quite far without one! "

returning his attention to his task, he pours the potion and a cloud of green erupts from the pot. he steps back, shielding his face. " an eye for an eye, belle. "

[therosepetalrps]

@dreadpiratejones ・❥・closed starter

asked: [ assist ] sender helps the receiver with a task they’re struggling in

Belle was getting a migraine.

This was ridiculous. Ask her to read any book in Common, no matter how ancient or academic, and she could do so with ease. She could read Elvish, and Goblin, and even a good bit of the queer symbols used by the Fae Folk. But maps - especially dense ones like this, cartographing even the tiniest back roads and the most insignificant land features - were beyond her.

She sighed, weary, and was half-tempted to order another pint. But that was hardly going to help her focus. Not that much focus could be done anyway, with the rowdy pub crowd erupting into drinking songs every few minutes.

[valentine-cafe]

🍒 𓂃 𝑶𝑹𝑫𝑬𝑹 𝑼𝑷 : rhubarb crumble !! . . . corrupt god ⊹ fem reader .

. ᘛ 𝑓𝑒𝑎𝑡𝑢𝑟𝑖𝑛𝑔​​​​​​​﹕verse 164 ꮽ  zhào talisen

 𐔌𖹭 ˖ ࣪  who's that ?⠀﹕a deceivingly charming deity of deceit

ּ  ֗ recepit ℘ ... despite the tales and the myths that haunt the lands, of a siren so haunting and deadly. you approach his homestead, to strike up a deal.⊹ cw ٬٬ smut . dark themes . 

There were many tales of the siren in the lake and the monster in the woods surrounding it. Many spun tales and fruitless efforts of 'slaying the beasts', others spoke of enchantments and benefits these mythical creatures could grant.

A fang from the monster was said to offer protection, flowers grown in its footpath were said to be good luck, the siren's waters were known as holy. You never truly found any of these long-winded stories appealing. Especially when no one hand anything to show for it.

That was until, you heard quite the convincing tale. A pearl — for a wish?

As the story goes, the siren that inhabited those sun-kissed waters was quite the antisocial fellow. Some called him a man, a woman, something hauntingly beautiful in-between. With a song that pleased even the most stubborn of ears. Eyes like the setting sun and a voice that coaxed, caressed. The touch of love before death's clutches dragged its victims down into a watery grave.

But, if you were able to strike a deal with the creature rather than eliciting its hunger; in exchange for its rare interest, it would grant you a singular pearl. Iridescent and stunning, powerful. For it would grant you one wish. A pearl for a wish.

Now, you should have brushed it off as far-fetched. After all, the village folk presenting their pearls so proudly could have easily fished those out from the shores further east. But this tale called for you. A tempting lullaby in the dead of the night. A coaxing call in the wind when you made your rounds in the meadow just edging the expansive forests where the monster dwelt. You would have to pass through those dreary trees before even finding a glimpse of those glimmered streams.

. . .

And that's exactly what you did.

Crippling hubris or a determination that would get you killed? Only the gods would know, but you found your feet kissing the edges of those gentle shores. Water expands like a heavenly sheet. Cloaked in the rising sun - or setting? It seemed the rumours were true. The sun stayed fixed on the horizon, barley dipped below the stretch of water on the far side of the larger-than-life lake.

What made you think you were special enough to charm the siren with a particular taste of villager flesh? Again, crippling hubris or a fatal determination, pick your poison.

The moment you spotted those eyes of the setting sun peering at you from a water's edge, cloaked in silky, dark hair that floated behind like a compliment to the golden glimmers shone upon the water — you knew that you might have sealed your fate.

You wondered, would anyone tell your tale? Of a young woman dragged to the depths of her own ambition. With nothing but water-filled lungs and half your torso to show? Would they tell horror stories of you being consumed by the great serpent that curved over the waters so elegantly?

You'd hoped not. It was quite the erotic sight, after all.

It seemed the siren, was not a siren at all. But a serpent, a man. Beautiful and deadly and with a power that shook you to your core when he stepped from his watery abode. Long, silky hair clung in waves to white and gold robes, that while wet, looked all the more stunning in their drenched form. Adorned in copper and opal. From jewellery, to the specks all over his large hands and slithered eyes. He towered you, encased you in the sheer prowess of his presence.

Alluring couldn't even cover it. He was divine, hellish and everything in between. Sin and salvation, beauty and horror. And when you spoke of a deal?

You were more than happy to offer your body as the price.

Even with his knees dug into the damp sand and the ferocity that found your battered thighs, he was gorgeous, gracefully, all-consuming as you were trapped between heaven and hell. Sprawled out over the shore with your stomach flushed to the ground. Your hands fisting helplessly at grass shoots, your drool pouring over these beautiful lands as the siren - no - the god of the lake, consumed you.

As stated, it was an erotic sight. Your clothes discarded, his body trapped yours. One large hand shoved on your ass to keep you flushed into the ground. The other steadied on your scalp, tight and unforgiving. Like his hips that repeatedly pounded against your wet flesh. Leaving blushes and bruises you'll hold with pride.

But the cruellest thing? The way his huge, pulsating cock split your pretty pussy as though its all she was made for. As though her only worth was to stretch and strain so pathetically around something far to big for her. Not that he cared, he'd taken fucked you open on his fingers and tongue until you were crying into the sand.

Every thrust jerked your smaller, frailer body. The serene streams and their peaceful sounds were interrupted by a feral - plap plap plap! as he withdrew halfway and slammed forward until you were seeing the stars, the moon, the whole damn galaxy.

"All this for a simple wish? Is it worth it, my dear?" Deep, velvety, like the sweet caress of death rumbled into your ear as your ass squished abruptly from the sudden shove. His thrusts shallowed. Flared, fat tip fucking into your cervix until your walls spasmed and creamed over each pulsating crevice and throbbing vein.

"Is it worth it? Yes?" The hand on your scalp circled around tor snatch your jaw. The sheer size encased both your throat and jaw as he yanked you back. A mean arch to withstand the feral bucks that choked sobs from your throat. "Worth it to have suuuchh a big cock splitting you open? Hmm? I didn't know village girls were such sluts . . ."

Your body tensed as heat floods you for the nth time. You're maw-hung, crossed-eyed. So desperately, pathetically, bucking your hips back into the onslaught of his cum staining your walls and thighs. The hand on your hips slipped to your stomach, and he pressed down cruelly.

"Feel that, sweet girl?" The croon to your ear is equal parts poison and honey as he slowed for but a second to slowly, agonisingly buck. "That is you . . . taking me like a slut. All for a wish."

You can't duck your head and view the glimmer of his cum spilling down your thighs. All you do know is — it's addicting. The surge of heat, the pools of pleasure. It's overwhelming, all-consuming. You offered your body in exchange for a wish — but now? This is your only want. You only need. As he fucked you through another mind-numbing orgasm.

"Please." You croak.

"Please?" He grinned.

Your flipped to face him. His lips caressed and cruelly laved down your neck, to your chest. He groped, and grabbed and claimed as his large cock slipped through your folds. Leaving you empty, wanting.

"Please what? Give you more? Seems you are addicted . . ."

"Please!"

Your body burned. You bucked and tried to will your weak muscles so that you could rise. Your arms hooked around the god's neck and you dared to ghost your lips to his. His tip shoved to your entrance again and he cupped the back of your head with a groan. Guiding you into a feral kiss of tongue and teeth as he slowly fucked into your tightness once more.

"Greedy girl. . . " He huffed into your lips before his thrusts shook your body into feral jerks. His movements turned to humps. Deep, as far as he could bury, so that you felt suffocated. Owned.

You were. You were a greedy girl. All your hubris and determination led you to this. Stuffed on cock and drinking on the aphrodisiacs of a divine's cum and spit. You fisted on his hair, tried to move in-tune. Wanting more. Needing it.

And he gave it to you. All on that shore. Until your body was spent and your eyes could take no more. You fell back, but he caught you with ease. Embracing your twitching form into his all-consuming embrace as his lips graced your face, and then your ear.

"Such a sweet thing, for such a small price . . ."

The pearl was in your hand when you woke up, clothed, dry, on a bed of flowers that touched your skin as if it were a holy grail. You travelled back to your village with ease, safe for the small, comfortable ache through your body.

Was it a dream? No, because your walls still felt him. Still yearned for him. Through the dead of night as you lay there. Needing, wanting. The way he filled you up was addictive, something you only had once but now couldn't have enough of.

Was this apart of his sick game? You hoped so.

It was.

So he awaited you at the foot of the shores again. For you to crawl back. Craving. With those stunning eyes and sheepish, sweet smile.

You had never asked where the tale came from, and the pearl was long forgotten. You never cared to look closer, and see that this was all apart of his plan. To lure you into the woods, the lake — to have a pretty thing like you for himself. All for him.

꒰ ۪ ˖ ࣪ 𝑚𝑒𝑛𝑢 ... info ꮽ mlist ꮽ verse ꮽ wiki .

[multi-fandom-imagines8]

What We Could’ve Been

Part 1

Summary: You are Rhysand’s younger sister and have been tasked with dealing with Eris. The two of you have a complicated, teasing relationship, with banter and attraction, but how will it end?

WC: 1.7 K

You can read part 2 here. Fictober Challenge

You were well-versed in the art of negotiation, your presence as formidable as your brother's. Today, however, you faced the infuriating son of the Autumn Lord, Eris Vanserra. No one from the Inner Circle liked him, nor did they want to deal with him, and the feeling was mutual. While he respected Rhysand and they were somewhat allies but still, their relationship was always tense. However, there was one person he seemed to tolerate- you. Having more patience than the rest, you had agreed to mediate between the two.

This time, you had bad news to deliver. The missing Autumn Court soldiers had been found and killed by Azriel and Cassian, with only two survivors. Now, you had to explain to Eris why and ask him to come fetch his soldiers.

You had winnowed to the Spring Court forest to meet, but of course, he made you wait.

“You’re late, Vanserra” you muttered, filing your nails, not sparing him a glance as he winnowed in.

“Some of us actually have important matters to handle.”

“And I don’t?”

He smirked, cocking an eyebrow “I’m probably the most important thing you’ll ever handle.”

You scoffed “you think very highly of yourself. I’m only here because no one else wants to deal with your ass, and I’m the only one with patience for it”.

“So what’s the news, sweetheart?” He asked with a condescending grin as he leaned against a tree.

You sighed “You want the bad news first or the good one?”

“Bad, always.”

You locked eyes with him, your voice softening as you delivered the blow “Most of your soldiers are dead.”

The grin vanished from his face “And the good news?”

“Two survived”.

His jaw clenched “Let me guess, it was the brute bastards’ doing, wasn’t it?”

Your expression hardened “If you’re going to insult my friends then I’m leaving.”

“So they kill my soldiers, and I’m not even allowed to say a bad word about them?” his voice dropped, cold and furious.

“It was in self defense. They were enchanted by Queen Briallyn and Koschei, acting like rabid dogs” You explained, keeping your voice steady.

His eyes flickered with restrained anger “And the ones that survived? Were they tortured by your ‘not brute’ bastard of a friend?”

You sighed deeply, your patience thinning “Look, I’m sorry about your soldiers, but there’s nothing that can be done about it now.”

Just as Eris opened his mouth to retort, you glanced behind him, your eyes widening in alarm. Eris turned, his own instincts flaring as Tamlin emerged, claws all out. Eris tensed, ready to fight him, but you stepped forward, placing your hand on his arm.

“We were just leaving. We want no trouble” you said quickly, your voice calm but firm.

“You wouldn’t have trespassed on my lands if you wanted no trouble” Tamlin growled, stalking closer. Eris stepped in front of you this time, his body shielding yours.

“You don’t bother ruling anymore, so we thought it’d be alright to be in the forest” Eris sneered, his voice dripping with sarcasm.

Tamlin’s eyes narrowed “So not only are you trespassing, but you dare insult me?”

“Y/n, go” Eris ordered, his voice tight with tension.

You hesitated. “Now!” he commanded, his eyes flickering back to you with urgency, and so you winnowed out, leaving them behind.

After you got home safely, you paced your room, thinking of what to do next. You’d be lying if you said you weren’t worried about Eris, despite how infuriating he was. You informed Rhys and the others of what happened, and your brother promised to look into it. But as the evening passed, anxiety gnawed at you. Once you went back to your apartment in the city and were about to change into more comfortable clothes, a voice startled you “Were you worried about me?” Even without seeing him, you knew the bastard was smirking.

You flicked the light on and turned to find him lounging in your chair, his posture lazy, but his eyes sharp “What the hell are you doing here, Vanserra?”

“Oh, ‘Hey Eris, I’m glad you’re alive and thank you for saving my life’” he mocked, mimicking your voice with a dramatic wave of his hand.

You crossed your arms “I could’ve handled Tamlin. I didn’t want to start another war with everything that’s going on. I hope you didn’t either.”

“Ah, don’t worry. We had a friendly chat.”

Your eyes narrowed suspiciously “What did you do to him, Vanserra?”

“Nothing, I promise. He’s alive” He raised his hands in mock surrender, his expression one of fake innocence.

“Why are you here?” you asked, tired of the games.

“Our friendly chat was interrupted” he said casually, standing up from the chair with a slow grace.

“I believe I conveyed the message. If you’re here to pick up your soldiers, you’re talking to the wrong sibling.”

His lips twitched “Where is your sense of hospitality, sweetheart?”

“I only ever invite my friends over.”

He placed a hand over his chest dramatically “You wound me.” Then, his expression shifted back to serious “Just bring the soldiers to the Autumn Court border tomorrow, I’ll meet you there. And come alone” he strode past you slowly, letting his fingers brush against yours as he took in the scent of your hair.

—-

“You’re late, sweetheart” Eris drawled, sharpening his knife, not meeting your eyes.

“Had to keep you on your toes” you replied, handing over the two soldiers. He finally looked up at you. A smile involuntarily tugged at his lips, but it vanished quickly as you said “Our work here is done. See you at the next sign of trouble.”

He hesitated before speaking “Wait… do you want to come over for tea?”

Your brow arched in surprise “Over as in your place? The two of us? Drinking tea? Together?”

“Yes” he replied, confusion flickering in his eyes “It’s just tea.”

“It’s never just tea with you” you crossed your arms, trying to decrypt what his intention was.

He sighed, his frustration seeping through “Never mind, just forget it.” He shook his head, the cold, indifferent mask slipping back on.

He was just trying to be friendly- nice, since you had always seen him as a heartless villain. But in reality, this was just a mask you could hide behind instead of facing your true feelings.

“Right. I’ll see you around, Vanserra. Just don’t cause trouble.”

His smirk returned, insufferable as ever “I’ll try.”

—

Months had passed since you last saw Eris, but finally he’d attend the Winter Solstice ball.

He had been formal all evening, offering polite congratulations to Rhys and Feyre on their baby news. He hadn’t even glanced your way, until now.

“May I?” Eris extended his hand, asking you to dance. You had remained formal as well and nodded slightly, accepting his offer and taking his adm.

And there it was, his devilish smirk slowly returning as he led you to the floor.

“I see you managed to remain formal this evening” you remarked.

“And when am I not, sweetheart?” he asked, his smirk deepening.

“Every time I’m dealing with you” you shot back, tilting your head to see his reaction.

“Ah! That.”

You narrowed your eyes slightly “What is that supposed to mean?”

“It means that you’re the only person I’m not formal with” he admitted just as the music began. Slowly, he slid his arm from your grasp, and with a subtle pull, he drew you in closer. In one fluid motion, you found yourself face to face with him, his hand resting firmly at your waist, the warmth of his touch lingering through the fabric. He took your other hand and intertwined it with his.

You swallowed hardly as your eyes met his. This was the first time the two of you got this close. You wanted to ask why, but in your heart you already knew. And if he said it out loud, you weren’t sure how you’d handle it. So instead, you changed the subject “How are your men?”

He was silent for a moment as the both of you swayed. His gaze lingered on you a little longer than usual, then he let out a small hum of amusement, aware of your attempt to steer the conversation in a different direction. “My men are fine. How are your brute friends?” The truth is he didn't care in the slightest. But if you were going down that route, then he would follow.

“Hmm. You asking about Az and Cas? That’s weird. Are you sure you’re not ill or something?” you teased with a smirk appearing on your face.

“Quit the games, Y/n” he said, his voice steady, confident.

“And what would you rather have me do?” You asked and he twirled you around effortlessly before pulling you back in closer than before. The way he had so much control over your body.

Leaning in, his voice dropped to a slow, nonchalant drawl, his tone cool and unbothered “l’d have plenty of things for you to do.”

His words sent a shiver down your spine, but you managed to stay composed. You slightly pulled back to look him in the eyes “Now who’s playing games?”

“I’m not” he replied, his tone sincere. You searched his eyes for a hint of deception, but you found none. Shit, this had thrown you off guard. You had no quick retort, nothing clever to say. You had to think of something, and quickly.

Desperate for an out, you blurted “We’re having a family breakfast tomorrow. You should come” as soon as the words came out of your mouth, you regretted them. What the hell were you thinking inviting him to breakfast with Rhys and the Inner Circle? They all hate him and would demand an explanation as to why Eris was even invited. “As an ally…of course. You could…solidify your relationship…partnership? with my brother…a-and the rest… I guess?” instead of making the situation better, you just kept on babbling and made it even worse. You winced internally at how dumb you sounded.

“I don’t think I’d be welcome” he paused for a moment, studying you. Of course he knew you didn’t mean it when you invited him, but the bastard couldn’t miss an opportunity like that. You could see the amusement in his eyes as he continued “But since you asked so nicely, I’ll be there” he grinned wickedly.

That fucker! He had you in a chokehold. There was nothing you could do, there was no way out now…unless you wanted to admit defeat.

[eylih]

Credit: Brittney Lee (D23 2024)

The first piece of concept just got leaked! What we can assume/theorize:

- Considering the general atmosphere, the movie will take place in Spring (as I expect cause we already got Fall in F2 and both Summer and Winter in F1). I'm just hoping it will be the next Spring after F2

-The spirits and lore they introduced in F2 won't be left out, or least Nokk won't

- There's a slight chances the movie takes place a new places cause the trees look slighly different from the Enchanted Forest's

Unless it's an area in the forest where the vegetation is quite different or I'm over analyzing

- We're gonna have either a real MAGICAL antagonist or a character who appears at such at first. They look like they have a cap so these horns could be fake

- Their weapon reminds me a bit of the Northuldra's. It may be a different type but still one of their traditional tools

- They're clearly not the same but the way the character is holding it is similar to how Yelena holds hers in this concept art (also made my Brittney Lee). Not to mention this Ryder concept art by Jin Kim. So maybe a sign of the return of our Northuldra characters...?

-The Northern lights are gonna have an important role in the movies (since it's confirmed F3 and F4 are a same story cut in halves)

- We might meet the previous fifth spirit (or spirits)! It's a bit blurry and subtle but the two characters in front of the strange castle seems to quite have reindeer's horns. I'm even assuming the one on the left could be an actual reindeer

For those who are familiar with the deleted, Frozen 2 originally portrays a prologue where a character who could turn into a reindeer. It's kinda imply they were the fifth spirit

I have a strong feeling Frozen 3 and 4 are gonna include a lot the ideas they couldn't include in Frozen 2. Unlike Frozen's, a lot of Frozen 2's deleted scenes could still make sense in the canon verse

Remember these are my personal assumptions, feel free to agree or disagree!

[universeofmuses]

There was something about this woman, sure he had seen visions of her and knew what he would do with her before he met her, but what he hadn’t counted on was falling for her. Though as much as he wanted to embrace her and his feelings for her, he couldnt let her get in the way of his mission, he couldnt let her get in the way of him finding Baelfire. For now he would bury his feelings deep down and not let them get the better of him, but still even now he struggled. As he entered the library and saw the way the candle and light from the fireplace seemed to make her glow, she seemed bathed in a warm aura that made him wonder if she had some inner magic that hadn’t come to life yet? As he went to the shelf he felt her eyes on him and for the first time in what felt like several lifetimes he felt nervous. 

He chuckled an impish cackle at her words, “Yes, well if a lowly pauper wishes to become a gallant knight, I need to know what one looks like.” He replied to her, though his words were a jab at the knights of this time and the time from before he became the dark one. Though then again he never exactly gave the parties exactly what they wished for, there was always enough wiggle room in these deals for him to get exactly what he wanted and to leave the other person high and dry. Still the fact that she was playfully playing along with what he had answered her to him that she was aware of what he was actually reading or at least have a vague notion of it. 

It didnt escape Rumple that his maid, when she had stopped feeling sorry for herself and stopped fearing him long enough that she seemed to see through everything he did. Where he kept h is fearsome facade up, he seemed to be unable to fool her, after a point it seemed like she could stare straight into his soul. Still he kept his act up to keep everyone at arms length, in his time he knew he couldnt trust anyone. It seemed like everyone in his life had betrayed him when he trusted them, his father, the beggar, the seer. He couldnt trust anyone but himself and his son, so he kept everyone at arms length. As lonely as it was, it was safe because then no one could hurt him if they weren’t close enough to, and on a more petty level it was fun to inspire fear by his very presence the way people in power had done when he was a lowly spinster. 

As Rumple sat and read the tome in his lap he heard her fingers drum against the book in her hands, after a few minutes of this he couldnt take the sound any longer. “Nervous, Dearie?” He asked a little annoyed by the sound. He had wondered what was going on in that head of hers, it had been some time since she had been nervous around him, so he wondered what it was that had her in such a state. Then again they hadn’t spent much if any time like this together in the same room where she didnt have something to completely occupy her, “What’s on your mind, Dearie?” He asked her as he sighed and marked his place and closed his book and glanced over at her. 

“I needed some fresh air.” Rumple said deflecting why he was really here, in truth he was here because he wanted to spend time with Belle in a space she felt comfortable in. Though he did often times when he was really focused on his times and not this farce of his, liked being locked in the tower, it felt safe to him, that nothing was going to attack him. Though if someone or something tried it would be the last thing they tried. “For the moment, unless someone wants to make a deal.” He said with his usual impish tone, though it was only for the moment. As she continued he fought a smirk that grew on his face, “Well when someone lights the fires in the castle it does seem warmer here.” He said trying to make it seem like everything except that he had felt the same way she had felt. “Perhaps, this is a rather cozy space to read.” He said still deflecting, he couldnt let on that at his core the dark one had a heart, that he was anything other than the monster that the world had made him. At her offer now he couldnt help but smile, “That sounds, lovely, Dearie.” He said now unable to hide what he had been working so hard to keep buried deep down. 

Belle had never felt more content in the Dark Castle. She had been residing in the Dark One's castle for a few months and to say it was unexpected would be the understatement of the year. And yet, after all of the chaos the two of them have had to confront, after all of their bickering and arguments, Belle found she started to become more comfortable in the presence of the man who was her master.

Just that day, they had headed together towards the man who dared steal from Rumplestiltskin...who the young woman dared to free from his dungeons and from his torture. Of course the wizard was more than pissed and wished to go and murder the man, but the girl was of a different opinion, that nobody deserved such suffering and that there might be good reasonings behind someone trying to steal a wand. Of course, she was right when the thief, named Robin Hood, healed his pregnant lover, who seemed deathly ill, on the verge of entering the gates of Heaven. Even the wizard was not so cruel as to kill and leave a child fatherless.

They swiftly returned to the castle, not before Belle threw her arms around him, hugging him as close as she could, grateful for staving off the murderous instincts within him, that she knew came from the Dark One and not from Rumplestiltskin himself.

Of course, imagine her absolute surprise when, back at the castle, the man gifted her with a whole library, filled to the brim with books, more tomes than she could read in a lifestyle. Perhaps her initial perception of her master was not quite so right after all, if such a grand gesture told her anything. The sorcerer claimed it was just another room to dust and clean, but the young girl knew the truth, that the room had never existed in the castle before, which meant he had created a library for her from scratch, knowing of her passion for reading and learning.

That was a gift she was eternally grateful for, which was why, hours after he had offered it to her, Belle chose one of the tomes from the library and decided to sit on a chaise in front of the fireplace to read in peace.

Her chores for the day were done, their adventures were over and time finally came for some rest, which was why the young woman was found with her nose stuck in a book already. Her long chestnut locks were flowing down her shoulders and the back of the chaise, her hair now fully free from her half-up half-down style.

She allowed herself the pleasure of relaxation, taking a deep breath in and releasing it as she was captured into a new story, not evidently aware of her surroundings or of anything else but the smell of ink and parchment and the feel of the pages beneath her finger tips. Which was why she did not feel the shadowed presence of her master and perhaps new friend, Rumplestiltskin, in the doorway, watching.

( @universeofmuses Rumbelle rp)

[nocompromise-noregrets]

likethenight's Barduil fic masterpost

It's been a long time coming (mainly because I've been putting it off because there's so damn much of it how is this even my life at this point) but here, have a masterpost of everything I've written about the bi widower dads!

the series

My Heart Is An Empty Vessel: canon-'verse, featuring the dads getting together in the aftermath of the Battle of the Five Armies and featuring side-fics, flashbacks to Thranduil's youth in Doriath and an entirely canon-mangling sequel set in Valinor. (62 stories so far)

All I Want Is You: modern AU in which Bard is working as a delivery driver who keeps having to make deliveries to the reclusive owner of Greenwood Hall (and then lockdown happens). Including the daft Christmas-movie fic that nobody wanted except me. (23 stories so far)

A Kiss in the Cold and Dark: modern AU in which Bard and Thranduil knew each other as teenagers but lost touch for 30-odd years before running into each other again at a Christmas market. (14 stories so far)

Dancing In The Dark: modern AU in which Bard and Thranduil had a not-quite-a-thing in the 90s when they were both singers for relatively successful rock bands, never sorted themselves out, and find themselves on the same festival bill 30 years later. (14 stories so far)

stained glass heart: There is a legend in Dale, that somewhere deep in the forest that borders the city lives the forest king, an ancient being with a special care for archers, and for all things that grow. Bard, camping in the woods after his finals, finds a place that isn't on any maps and begins to dream of something - someone - familiar; and years later, after the heaviest loss he has ever had to bear, he goes back out there again, hoping to find something that might help him recover. (5 stories so far)

Stars and Arrows: the Oxford-college-professors-with-different-names reincarnation story, featuring a mysterious illuminated manuscript and your humble author's 25 years of archival nerdery. (2 stories so far)

the oneshots: canon-'verse

Something Magical: Thranduil thinks about magic, and glamour, and illusion, and wonders if now he is under a different kind of enchantment.

Overrun by Halflings: a somewhat cracky fic in which Rosie persuades Sam to take her and the children to the Undying Lands, some of the Elves are somewhat less than pleased, and one of them (no prizes for guessing who) has Absolutely No Room To Comment At All.

A Little Less Than Safe: Thranduil takes Bard, Sigrid and Tilda for a picnic in the forest. The sorcerer of Dol Guldur sees an opportunity to have a little fun and teach the Elvenking a lesson.

Should All The Stars Shine In The Sky: the first Midwinter celebration in Dale after the Battle of the Five Armies. Bard and Thranduil are in the thick of the festivities, Sigrid and Tauriel are stargazing on the rooftops, and there are all kinds of magic abroad on this, the longest night of the year.

Caught Like Stars: another Midwinter-in-Dale fic - Thranduil has his reasons for accepting Bard's invitation to celebrate Midwinter in Dale, but he isn't quite expecting anything that happens after he arrives.

(Not) For You: They’re not for you, the Elves, not for the likes of you, and Bard has known this all his life. But he's always been a dreamer, and after the Battle of the Five Armies his whole world has been turned on its head, and the Elvenking is being oddly open with him.

fragile/uncanny: in which the Elvenking and the Dragonslayer find that they have more in common than they realise at first.

what dark paths brought me here: Riding into the darkness of the forest, Bard wonders why he was so insistent that he go alone to ask the Elvenking for help; but it takes his mind off wondering why he can't stop thinking about the time they spent together last autumn, at least.

unanticipated, unexpected: Sigrid never expected to be in a position to actually do something about the ridiculous crush on the Prince of the Woodland Realm that she picked up during the fall of Lake-town - so Tilda and Tauriel take matters into their own hands. Otherwise known as the Sigrid/Legolas fic I never thought I'd find myself writing - the dads are a background pairing in this one.

Very Nearly A Diplomatic Incident: Dáin thinks something's going on between Bard and Thranduil. He…isn't far wrong, but they're not telling him that.

and where they dwell now none can say: there is a tale that's seldom told about two kings in days of old… (in other words, your humble author accidentally commits poetry)

On the Steps: After the battle is over, Bard finds himself talking to the Elvenking - and tending a wound.

A Very Recent Development: When Thranduil's temper gets the better of him in conversation with Dáin, he has to ask Bard to help him salvage the alliance between their three kingdoms. Perhaps inevitably, it gets complicated.

Waylaid: After the battle, Legolas is determined to get as far away from Dale as fast as he can. But when he is delayed retrieving his horse, he finds himself lingering for Tauriel's sake, and beginning to forge friendships with Bard's children - and beginning to mend fences with his father at long last. (another one where the dads are more of a background pairing)

into the darkness: Bard had only ventured into the forest to try and find something for his children to eat. But the spiders - and the Elvenking - have other ideas.

someone else's life: Bard often thought, in the months following the battle, that the world had ended, for him, on the night the dragon had come swooping down from the mountain breathing fire and flame and burned Lake-town to ashes and cinders. His home was gone, his livelihood was gone, his whole life as it had been had stopped on that awful night, and now - now he felt as though he was living someone else’s life.

the greatest treasure you could ever hope to find: A couple of weeks after the battle, Sigrid has a conversation with the Elvenking, and both of them find themselves saying rather more than they'd intended.

red: Thranduil's cloak is lined with red, the colour of blood; he is all silver, silver and red, ice and blood and a love he can no longer bear to let himself feel.

the oneshots: (mostly) modern AUs

Three Things and One Step At A Time: in which teenage boyfriends Bard and Thranduil are split up by Thranduil's abusive father and run into each other years later. Inspired by 'To Be A Father' by the lovely @fox-deer.

On Arda Street (chapter one): a tiny tattoo artist/florist AU, part of a set of AUs also including a pet shop, a coffee shop and a high school featuring other characters from the legendarium.

Metallic Red and Deep Pink: two fics set in the incomparable @scary-grace's seeking a friend for the end of the world-'verse. In a ruined, deserted mall somewhere east of Wyoming, Bard discovers that Thranduil is perfectly capable of walking in (very) high heels - and, in an abandoned motel, Thranduil tries on lipstick for the first time in a very long time.

Tonight Is For Mysteries: the retelling of the Cinderella story in which Sigrid is not the only one who finds something special at the Woodland Realm's masked ball.

A Double-Booking in Room 305 and Another Night in Room 305: Bard, checking into a hotel for a conference, finds that someone else has already checked into his room.

Once In A Lifetime and Make This Work Somehow: Bard's taken his first away-from-home acting job since his wife died and it's a huge opportunity, with the most renowned costume designer in the business working on the film. It's also an adaptation of his kids' favourite book, so...no pressure. And no need to even think about how incredibly attractive the aforementioned costume designer is, because that's not even the slightest bit relevant...

Espresso: There's a reason Bard always gets his coffee from the Lonely Mountain Roastery, every single day…

paint the sky and burn the stars: The best birthday present Bard ever had was the treehouse his da built him for his eighth birthday. Over the years it brings him his best friend, his first love, the one that got away…and then, eventually, it brings his first love back to him again.

All The Ages Of The World Alone: Thranduil never leaves the Greenwood, after the end of the time of the Elves in Middle-Earth. Gradually he fades away, drifting between the trees as a spirit…until a little lad playing in the woods catches his attention, and later, a grieving man with three children who seems to know about events he could not possibly have experienced…

Court Etiquette: (only just not-canon-'verse, this one) Thranduil is very bored at the wedding of Thorin Oakenshield and Bilbo Baggins, but then he meets the new King of Dale, who has never been to one of these events before.

business class: Bard, on his first business trip abroad since his wife died, gets an upgrade to business class, where he finds himself sitting next to someone very intriguing indeed.

on first sight: Thranduil allows himself to be talked into a blind date.

[jayden-killer]

Narrate me love.

Bard!Eddie Munson x princess!reader.

summary: Eddie "the Freak Bard" Munson is your only friend at the palace and your knight in shining armour when he proposes something you've always have been dreaming for. Will the answer be refusal or consent?

divider credit to @strangergraphics.

Strolling through the royal gardens, the princess was immersed in her deep thought hole. She carelessly let her hand drag along each stalk of every flower she passed in front of, not memorizing the details, colors, and scent as she used to do.

What a bore, thought the princess.

For months she did not leave her fortress in which she was born, cared for and raised, except for rare occasions – the visit of an allied kingdom or the carriage ride through the streets of the small town, greeting people with slight gestures of the hand – this was beginning to tire her.

She longed for adventure, adrenaline, the crossing of seas unknown to her with the right company, immersing herself in the fascinating enchanted forests of which she had heard about. Perhaps she would have found the love of his life just like that. The girl shook her head, slapping her head. That desire grew in her every time she opened a chivalreque novel placed on one of the many tables in her mother’s library.

The fingers caressed the edge of the page for no apparent reason and let her mind wander beyond the walls where she had spent most of her life. She let herself go on a marble bench, and sighed deeply. The pure air filled her nostrils, tasting the scent that the plants emanated around her, until she noticed the light pulsating at the base of the nape.

Curse these braids. They are killing me! She immediately took the thread that held the hair together in a braid; quickly, she loosened everything.

She was moved from her thoughts the moment she heard an instrument playing that she knew to be a mandolin. A sound that was not unknown to her ears and that had conquered her from the first moment. Looking up, her face softened at the sight of Eddie the Bard, his foot dangling back and forth as eyes were shining in the sunlight. He looked down at her, holding his back against the bark of the tree, sitting on a branch. "What brings you here, your highness?" he said teasing her.

The princess laughed slightly; her eyes had lit up. "I was walking, Eddie the Bard."

"Oh? I can see beyond your lies, your immense grace. Do not lie to me," he scold, shaking his finger with disapproval. "What is troubling you?"

"Nothing troubles me"

Eddie snorted at her insistence. With agility he landed on the ground and put his instrument back in its case behind his shoulders. He looked at her from top to bottom, dwelling on the tangle of loose hair earlier. "Has a storm passed over your head?"

The princess crossed her arms to her chest. She seemed annoyed by the Bard’s behavior, but it wasn’t really so. It was never like that. They enjoyed each other’s company. Many times they had stayed in those gardens: the Bard told her of the many lands he had visited in verse, accompanied by his mandolin; the princess instructed him with the many books of philosophy and literature that often kept her company. She felt that she was returning a favor which it did not seem to be as one.

"So the princess won’t confess what’s in that head of hers?"

Again. She had thought too much again. The young royal shook her head slightly; sitting down again on the bench, she tried to ignore the bard’s hazel eyes. It seemed that he would not leave there without first receiving a proper explanation. Understandable, thought the princess. Unable to remain composed, she stood up; it seemed that her legs did not want to stop, since she began to walk around the bard. "I want to go on an adventure".

"On an adventure?"

"On an adventure".

"Adventure, she says! Bah!"

Eddie burst into a thunderous laugh, his hand held to his chest, almost as if he were supporting himself. He could hardly believe it. A princess, accustomed to luxury, abundant banquets, the finest fabrics who wanted to...travel?

"What’s so strange about that?" The girl turned to him with an expression of reproach painted on her face. "Do not make fun of me!"

"I am not, or your great, immense…"

"Edward!" The girl went at the attack: she sprayed with dirt the white shirt of the bard. At that moment, two thoughts developed in Eddie’s head. The first: 'How did she catch me by surprise?'. The second: 'She used my full name!'

"Princess…" He began, followed by an exclamation from the royal. On her face it looked as if her eyes were about to explode from the sockets for how much anger she was stirring. Eddie made a mental note not to provoke her in this way again.

"You’re so ungrateful! I confess to you the deepest desire, hidden in my heart, to be mocked."

"I was not mocking you! I mean, yes…" Bad idea. Now, it looked like she was about to spew fire. "Well, that surprised me. How come you, my lady, want to wander elsewhere?

"So what?"

"So…" He began to walk around her, studying her from head to toe. "Is this what your heart truly desires, Your Highness? Because I have a proposal. And I expect the utmost sincerity from you." He continued after a short break. "Come with me. Tomorrow. Let’s run away together."

"Edward" called her again. The princess grabbed his wrist, determined, agile, looking straight into his eyes. She wanted him to read them, she wanted him to know that if she continued living in those four walls, she would go mad.

She no longer wanted to live a life of convenience and falsehood, oh no. She longed for the thrill that adventures would give. She knew well the dangers. She had received some information from the knights who were at her court, how they faced unforeseeable missions or unforeseeable monsters, in size and strength. Lurid inns visited. She would have been willing to do all this, just to get away from there. With the bard.

He, who had always entertained her with his songs, with his verses endowed with rhythm and musicality, with his melodious voice and his talent in playing his faithful mandolin. It almost seemed he had some sort of.. magic within him.

He, who long after they met, had almost kissed her in a remote corner of the castle. He had brushed her cheeks with extreme delicacy, his touch almost imperceptible for fear of ruining one of the most beautiful creatures he had ever seen.

His main poetic inspiration, although he would never admit it.

"You have until tomorrow to accept or reject my proposal. At dawn" Then he pointed over the garden. Exactly where his finger pointed was a huge willow. "Just before sunrise, I will be there waiting for you. Don’t be late."

~

"You came."

"I could not miss this magnificent chance," She said softly. Their hands held together, and Eddie swore to himself he would never let it go.

"Wonderful. Shall we go, Y/N?"

[lilolilyr]

For day 22 of the May Trope Mayhem event by @duckprintspress, another ficlet in my Bering and Wells fake dating series! For @purlturtle, who suggested today's prompt for the ship :)

This part is <1k, and in total we're at a wordcount of 1.5k now! All parts are rated G, no warnings apply.

~

Part 1 - Part 2 - Part 3:

"Helena? What's -" Myka stops at the landing and suddenly realizes why Helena stands frozen in place, looking utterly perplexed.

"...artifact that somehow turns you into an irresistible pet owner?"

Myka groans. "I don't have a better explanation either, but how does that fit in with the rest of what's been happening?"

Helena shrugs. "At this point, either Artie's worst fears are coming true and there is an artifact collector in town, or we will only understand the actual effects of the artifact once we snag it. Now, let's look at this little guy -"

"Or if someone finally talks to us and - wait, Helena, what are you doing?"

Anxiously, Myka watches as Helena slowly approaches the iguana in the corner of the bathroom.

"Well, we can't leave the little guy all alone just because its owner has suddenly lost all interest in him and has run screaming! We can put him up in our spare bedroom."

The reptile's dewlap inflates and it looks agitated, quickly moving its head first this way then that, and if Myka is reading reptilian body language in any way correctly, she doesn't believe that it is trying to make friends with Helena.

Myka tiredly rubs the back of her hand over her eyes. "Do you even know how to take care of an iguana? We should just call animal control and -"

"No!"

Both Myka and the iguana flinch at the loud sound, and Helena backs a way a little and hunkers down to look small and less aggressive to the animal.

"Look, we do both believe this to be artifact related, don't we?" Helena continues quietly and starts to slowly shuffle forward again as the iguana has calmed down. "Anwen was happily telling me all about her pet when we saw her last, you can't think that she would naturally start to be afraid of it. So, hopefully, once the artifact is bagged, we will be able to return this fellow to her and no-one has to be the wiser. You don't want to risk her losing her beloved Kazul to the animal social services just because she was whammied, do you?"

"Fuck, you're right," Myka groans. "ASPCA wouldn't give a pet back to someone who has been so neglectful. Well, shouldn't we grab a cage or something to move him? Uh, her?"

"I haven't seen a cage... Wait, can you tell her gender? I have to admit, I'm not as well versed in reptilian biology as I would like to be right now."

"No, just - Kazul, that's a dragon from a children's book, she's female so I thought - Helena, be careful!"

Helena has reached Kazul and is petting the big reptile's flank. "See, we are going to be fast friends - oh!" The iguana nimbly clambers up her leg, and Helena winces when the claws pierce the fabric of her trousers and dig into her skin.

"Yes, I can tell you're best friends already," Myka says drily, trying not to show how relieved she is that Helena isn't getting attacked by a ten pound reptile, nor how adorable she thinks Helena looks with the iguana in her lap - they are alone right now, so she can't use the 'playing their married couple role' excuse. "I guess I'll go look for a pet carrier bag or something..."

~

Part 3 of ? • more W13 content • web link • Ao3

The OC Anwen of course named her pet after Kazul the dragon king in the Enchanted Forest Chronicles! Check them out if you don't know the books, they're a super fun fantasy series, not just for kids.

My W13 tag list, lmk if you want on/off the list: @lavendelhummel @jesstrel @viharistenno @adhdannieedison @lesbianlovelife @tryingthisfangirlthing @tunsun44 @wibblywobblyida @wellvak

Update: part 4 is up!

[julibellule]

Let me tell you why I'm here!

She/Her | ENFJ | Libra ascending Leo : An adorable eccentric, a little out of the box crazy ;) I'm an old millenial.. Yeah was here when Tumblr started!

Addicted on Doctor♡Rose, Crowley♡Aziraphale, and Ed♡Stede. Not a fan of Steven Moffat or River Song!

I like to write and read fanfiction in English even though my first language is French.

Follow me for good Fic Recs and Fanfiction Quotes!

Doctor♡Rose

My Doctor♡Rose Fanfiction on AO3

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My Doctor♡Rose Huge Reclist

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Read the Best Doctor♡Rose Fanfiction Quotes!

Interractive Journey's End : Create your own take on what happened at the end of Journey's End. That's right, you choose. You play God and change Rose and the Doctor's fate. Have fun!! Rated Explicit

A Midnight's Interlude : Telepathy can be a hard thing to adjust to when you are a human novice. When the Doctor and Rose embark on a tour bus to visit a waterfall made of sapphires, her new heightened senses will be put to the test. Midnight Rewrite with Rose. Rated Explicit

Aziraphale♡Crowley

My Aziraphale♡Crowley Fanfiction on AO3

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Read the Best Aziraphale♡Crowley Fanfiction Quotes!

Little Wisp Verse : Follows Aziraphale♡Crowley and their secret child—born in the chaos of revolution, raised in an enchanted forest, and destined to shake Heaven and Hell. A story of love, magic, and the slow-burning miracle of becoming. Rated Explicit

Ed♡Stede

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Read the Best Ed♡Stede Fanfiction Quotes!

I wish to thank each one of you who do share their stories. It is so pleasant to be able to read about stuff I love till break of dawn. So nice to know that I'm not the only one kindling with this creative stream that burns your fingers until you let it all out on paper. Big thanks to everyone following my stories and giving me the feedback I need to improve my writing (and my English).

Full of love to all of you and ENJOY !

[da-awesom-one]

At All Costs (Snowflake Version) - Chris Pine & Idina Menzel

Art I commissioned from Frost_Art on Instagram.

LYRICS UPDATED: 1/13/2025

*DISCLAIMER: These lyrics are fan-made lyrics of a song created and owned by Disney for characters that are owned by both Disney and Dreamworks respectively . No money is being made off of this. This was solely written for recreational purposes.*

Context: This is set during Frozen II, in the middle of the Dark Sea scene. They’ve barely survived the Nokk, and Jack is the most upset he’s ever been. Elsa left him behind not once, but twice. The first when they left Kristoff and Sven behind, and the second when she sent Olaf and Anna away. Not only that, she recklessly runs into the Dark Sea, and that’s not mentioning his fear of water. Coupled with the fear of being sent away, and not feeling like he has a place in Arendelle, he’s really struggling to prove his worth without being selfish.

Love is selflessness, and he has taken that to heart since the events of Frozen 1, where he abandoned Elsa before her parents died, and he did everything in his power to make up for it when she finally sees him again. However, it doesn't always work in the right way. So he’s desperately trying to not be what he perceives to be selfish, for being selfish is what almost lost him his best friend in the first place, and he is deeply afraid of losing his new family. Of losing Elsa.

But somewhere along the way, whether he understands or want to admit it or not, things changed. Jack sees Elsa differently, just as she started to in her late teens, but kept quiet due to what happened and out of respect to her friend, also because she's not sure she understands it either.

They argue in the Dark Sea, telling her he doesn't want to lose her, but right as Jack’s about to say what he actually wants, he relents, saying what he wants doesn’t matter. Elsa doesn’t accept that. Once they get to safety, she tells him what he wants matters to HER.

And he tells her he wants to stay with her forever. That he sees her the way Kristoff does to Anna. But time, fate, what have you, makes it seem like no matter what he does, he can’t. But still, he wants to be with her regardless. Because she is his destiny. And being with her makes him feel better, and whole.

So then he starts singing. And so does she. And for the first time since entering the Enchanted Forest, they're on the same page. Better now than ever before.

Sing = Siiing

-

(VERSE 1)

J: If destiny is a set-in-stone thing,

Mine would be you.

If you'd have told me the feelings you'd bring,

I'd think them untrue.

Yet I never thought I’d meet someone like you.

Not in this life.

You still amaze me after all this time.

(PRE-CHORUS)

You… pull me in like some kind of wind,

Steer me through all the doubts within,

Make me brave enough to tell ya...

…That I…

(CHORUS)

Love you as one does.

I, I would protect you 

At all costs.

Keep you safe here in my arms.

I, I will protect you 

At all costs.

At all costs.

(VERSE 2)

E: How to say… the words that I wish to convey?

That I want this, too. Even if I tried to,

I can’t go back to life before you.

If someone tried to stop this, there’s no

Way I’d let that happen.

I'd fight for us in ways you can't imagine.

I’ve felt this once before, so I hope

It would be alright to stand right here and tell you…

(CHORUS)

B: I love you as one does.

I, I will protect you 

At all costs.

Hold you right here in my heart.

I, I will protect you 

At all costs!

At all costs!

(BRIDGE)

If you're ever feeling like you're lost,

I’ll come find you!

Man all fronts! There's no ocean I won't swim across

To be right by you!

And not just once. Here and now, I swear on my response,

I'll remind you…

(FINAL CHORUS)

I love you as one does.

I, I will protect you 

At all costs!

Face the storm, and all the odds!

I, I will protect you 

At all costs!

At all costs.

(END)

-

Debated whether or not to do this after posting the Jack Frost This Is The Thanks I Get?!, and finally hearing this for the first time. I got giddy, as this is definitely one of the top songs from the Wish soundtrack, and it struck me as odd that the villain, who in the movie was married, and the protagonist would sing something that sounded... well, romantic.

After seeing Wish for the context of it, and later discovering the Demo Version, learning that it WAS originally written as a love song, well... I had to go back and tweak my original draft.

@doodlemel's Animatic of them singing this song definitely didn't help, either. XD

I had to tweak bits that weren't making sense for Jack to say, especially parts that Magnifico said in the movie that kinda hinted to his more flawed persona. Because Jack is a good guy, but also someone who has never experienced these kinda feelings before, as well as also dealing with a lot of mistakes and trauma that influence his perception of whether or not his feelings are genuine, and whether he has a right to feel these feelings.

Elsa, for her part. is more straightforward, remarkably. Because I headcanon that she fell in love first, but Jack was being Shonen Protagonist oblivious to it. And by the time he started feeling a spark of something similar, stuff had already happened between them that they needed to clear up. But her feelings for him never really went away, even if she got better at hiding them. So when she hears him FINALLY admit that he feels the same way, she doesn't have to hide anymore. She lets him say his piece, and responds in kind.

Ultimately, I didn't really change much but the first parts where they sing, and parts of the choruses. Especially the “love” parts, as I just HAD to incorporate the original Demo Version into it. It's telling a sort of story. Of them slowly synchronizing once more, and finally ending with them being of one mind and heart.

For to love on a spectrum that has both beings as one, in my opinion, is truly a beautiful thing.

[xi4oyan]

Huayan – The Tigress of Moonlight

They say that when the moon touches the plum blossom on the highest hill of the Jade Forest, a creature is born between the silence of shadows and the whisper of stars. Her name echoes in the breeze like an ancient song: Huayan, the tigress who carries moonlight in her eyes and mist in her hair.

She was born from a whisper between the human world and the realm of beasts, daughter of the morning fog and the spirit of a white tiger. Her skin, warm as summer, bore the marks of her lineage—stripes that danced across her face like brushstrokes of wind. And on her forehead, a silver symbol shimmered: the crescent moon, sacred and serene.

She did not walk — she glided.

She did not speak — she enchanted.

Her smile was gentle as dawn’s breath, but her eyes… ah, her eyes held centuries of silence and secrets even the gods dared not decipher.

Huayan belonged to no temple, no throne, no cage.

She was free, like dew at daybreak, like leaves dancing without destination.

Animals lowered their gaze before her. Spirits followed in silence. And men… men fell in love at a glance and ached in her absence.

But it was Wukong, the Monkey King — he who had defied the heavens, stolen the peaches of immortality, and toyed with gods as if they were children — who stood before her and forgot to breathe.

The first time he saw her, he did not see a woman.

He saw the world.

He saw what his rebellious soul had been missing.

He saw tenderness made legend.

She smiled, and in that moment, the warrior of the skies knelt — inwardly.

“Are you the silence where my war finds rest?” he whispered.

And Huayan, with her arms around his neck, answered only with a smile — one that made comets tremble with longing.

Since then, wherever Wukong walks, a soft laugh lingers in the air, a scent of lotus flowers graces the trees, and sometimes, the clouds take the shape of a tigress with moonlit eyes.

For Huayan is not just a legend.

She is memory.

She is eternity made moment.

She is the love that blooms at first sight — and never fades.

The Sanctuary of Mist and Paper

Huayan lives not in a palace, nor in an enchanted cave.

Her home rests between cloud and moss,

between the memory of the forest and the echoes of the mountains.

There, hidden from the eyes of men, lies a temple undone by time,

where columns are roots and windows are frames for the sky.

Her refuge is built of ancient wood, interlaced bamboo, and rooftops draped in lichen.

A lake mirrors the moon each night, and upon its shores, nameless flowers bloom in silence.

There is wind, there is breeze — but never storm.

At its heart, a great stone table stands, not for feasts, but for stories.

Upon it, hundreds of scrolls lie curled like sleeping serpents,

carrying lost tales, ancestral legends, secrets of magic,

and poems that time itself forgot.

Each morning, Huayan awakens to the sound of bells

hanging from the eaves — touched by invisible spirits greeting her.

She sits upon a white fur rug, wrapped in a pale kimono,

and with serene gestures, she unrolls a scroll

as one unveils a veil draped over truth.

Her eyes trace the lines with reverence,

as if the words were made of light.

Sometimes she smiles. Sometimes she weeps.

On certain afternoons, she recites fragments aloud,

and the wind carries the verses down the mountain.

Upon bamboo shelves rest manuscripts of her own making —

reflections on the spirit, verses devoted to the sound of rain,

thoughts she whispered to Wukong

as he slept among the clouds.

When the day comes to its end,

Huayan lights oil lanterns scented with green tea and jasmine.

Her temple becomes an island of gold in the heart of darkness,

and even the owls hover in stillness,

listening to her words in rapture.

There, in that sanctuary where time slows its breath,

Huayan lives between worlds —

With one foot in the words of the ancients

And the other in the dream of the one who loved her at first sight.

When the Sky Fell Face-First into the Garden

The afternoon stretched across the valley, blushing in shades of peach and smoke.

Birds chattered in the bamboo groves as if gossiping about absent-minded gods,

and the wind wandered lazily, pulling curtains of flowers with invisible fingers.

Huayan, as usual, was seated beneath the crooked cherry tree.

Surrounded by open scrolls arranged in a circle—like enchanted disciples—

she read, murmuring spells and ancient legends

as if singing lullabies to ghosts.

Her hair, loose, spilled like a curtain of shadow across the pages.

Beside her, a kettle whistled, utterly ignored.

She was too deep in a story about a monk who talked to fish to notice.

"Of course he turned into a fish too," she laughed to herself.

"Men are so easily persuaded..."

And it was at that exact moment

that the sky lost its composure.

With a muffled thud, something—or someone—

fell from the clouds with the grace of a ripe jackfruit.

There was a plop, an ow!, and a whirl of dust.

Huayan’s eyes widened. Scrolls flew.

From the cloud of dust, he emerged.

Wukong.

Hair tousled, a plum blossom branch stuck behind one ear,

and the look of someone who had literally—

and proudly—fallen from the sky.

“I... was aiming for the temple,” he said, trying to regain some dignity,

brushing leaves from his robe with theatrical poise,

“but your tree seemed more welcoming.”

Huayan didn’t reply. She just stared at him—

the same look one gives a thunderclap

that, for some reason, decided to make a face on the way down.

“Did you miss me?” he asked, lifting an eyebrow

with a grin the heavens would surely classify as a felony.

She crossed her arms.

“I missed the silence” she replied calmly,

though her eyes were laughing.

“It died the moment you arrived.”

Wukong stepped closer, one step at a time,

crushing flowers without remorse.

“But it died for a noble cause,” he said, leaning in dangerously,

“for me.”

She rolled her eyes but didn’t retreat.

The air between them now tasted sweet,

ripe like late-summer fruit.

“You always show up when I’m at peace.”

“Because peace is boring" he whispered, even closer now.

“I prefer the chaos you pretend not to carry.”

And then, out of nowhere, he pulled from his robe...

a rice ball.

“I brought snacks.”

Huayan blinked.

“You fell from the sky with food?”

“Of course! One doesn’t visit a goddess without offerings.”

And he held out the rice ball, almost solemnly.

She laughed.

Softly at first.

Then with trembling shoulders and closed eyes.

He watched, slightly lost, completely enchanted—

as if that laughter were the real magic of the world.

“You’re impossible,” she said at last, accepting the rice ball.

“But now I’m your problem” he replied, collapsing to the ground

like a king undone by his own heart.

And there they stayed.

Among scattered scrolls, warm tea,

and a sky still blushing—

as if watching it all with a touch of divine embarrassment.

[kylobith]

LotR Week - Day 6 (21st Sep)

Songs and Tales — @lotrweek

In Ithilien there was a prince tall and fair, Whose love for songs and tales was so great that one day He sought out friends from other realms in hopes they’d share Words worthy of the great task that before him lay.

His heart was captured by a creature of such grace, Who enlightened his life and with him founded Home; Since they met, his worries vanished without a trace, And his ever helpless mind had long ceased to roam.

Eager to demonstrate his adoration to her In a way so familiar and soothing to him, He travelled to places that his interest spur So that, for his bride, he would compose a love hymn.

He went to the Glittering Caves, a dwarven home, To meet with their fiery yet welcoming yet lord. Sat by the hearth, the heart of a tall stony dome, The dwarves sang the verses often shared in their ward.

They told of strong-willed women who once led their realm, Stout as the mountainside in which they dug their den; In times of war, they shyed not away from the helm Adorned with shiny beards like daylight on the glen.

Words of beauty indeed, if he were to trust them; Yet did they convey what his Lady was to him? With her golden hair and eye shiny as a gem, It is with joy that she filled his heart to the brim.

The road led him to Mirkwood, where Elves once settled; Their prince granted him an audience at once and Hearing his plea, he recalled songs of words petaled, Whose sheer refinement and grace our prince left stunned.

They told of elven ladies enchanting dancing To music of pipes unseen, within forests green; Others complimented their bright eyes entrancing, As well as their alluring smiles, like their blades so keen.

Their sophisticated tongue and words made it clear: There was a way he could serenade his lady! His exaltation made his plan draw ever near, Yet his newborn ballad remained somewhat hazy.

Our prince, inspired, then left for the Shire; There, Hobbits gathered around some pints and fine treats, Hopped onto tables, chanted around a lyre, Their celebration as merry as their heartbeats.

Two old friends rejoiced at his sight and with him drank. They spoke of the dear, gentle ladies at the fair Or cheerfully picknicking by the river bank, With flowers in their curls, they laughed without a care.

The three people he encountered loved differently: They celebrated strength, elegance, and kindness; All mentioned the way the men would hold them gently, And would whisper to them how they leave them breathless.

Back at his court, the prince meditated longer, Seeking the pretty words that long eluded him; Upon the soft parchment he let his quill wander And with a lighter mind bared his heart on a whim.

As the moon rose, he sang it to his beloved, Whose blushing reaction his joy did not eclipse; Yet little did he know that what she most loved Was his tender smile and her name upon his lips.

Happy birthday to David Wenham (Faramir)!

[doumadono]

Could I request some SFW headcanons for Viking Shoto and Viking Dabi? Whatever aspects you delve into, I'm all ears! 💜💜💙💙

A/N: I sincerely hope you find enjoyment in this collection of headcanons ♥

KVITRAVN - MHA VIKING AU

Viking Shoto

Shoto is well-versed in ancient runic scripts, using them not only for communication but also to unlock the secrets of his Viking heritage, often deciphering ancient texts and prophecies.

Shoto has a talent for playing a unique Viking instrument known as the harmony harp, using it to create soothing melodies that bring tranquility to the hearts of those around him. With nimble fingers, he skillfully plucks the sweetest notes, ensuring that the captivating melody not only enchants but also leaves all the females utterly captivated by him.

Shoto is a master archer, his accuracy unmatched even in challenging conditions. His arrows are tipped with special materials that make them particularly effective against his foes.

Shoto's torso is adorned with intricate tattoos, featuring a combination of runic symbols and Viking patterns believed to bring good luck.

Shoto's ambitions extend beyond mere conquest. He seeks to reshape the Viking world, envisioning a domain where fear of his name is as chilling as the ice he commands.

Shoto's dedication to his craft is unparalleled. He undergoes rigorous training routines, honing his physical strength and combat skills to perfection through discipline and hard work.

Shoto harbors a deep-seated resentment towards Touya, driven by the fear that Touya might ascend to the throne after Endeavor's demise. In Shoto's perspective, the rightful heir to the throne should be him, considering his status as the youngest and, in his opinion, the most intelligent among the brothers.

Viking Dabi

Dabi's weapons are covered with a secret mix that, when ignited, produces mesmerizing blue flames. This unique touch adds an eerie beauty to his prowess on the battlefield.

Dabi is an exceptional tracker, navigating the dense forests and treacherous terrains with uncanny ease.

Dabi's loyalty to his Viking kin is unwavering. He's known to stand by his comrades in times of adversity, earning the respect and trust of those who fight alongside him.

Dabi, surprisingly, has a talent for blacksmithing. He forges weapons with intricate designs.

In quiet moments, Dabi can be found gazing at the stars, pondering the mysteries of the cosmos. This solitary ritual is his way of finding solace in the vastness of the Viking world.

Dabi possesses an extraordinary affinity for thunderstorms - amid them, his focus sharpens. When the skies resonate with thunderous roars and illuminate with lightning flashes, Dabi's combat abilities surge, transforming him into an unstoppable force.

Dabi's role in battles extends beyond direct confrontation. He excels as a strategic saboteur, targeting supply lines and strategically weakening his enemies before engaging in open combat.

On the battlefield, Dabi sports an intimidating mask crafted from the jawbone of a wolf, covering his lower face from the nose downward.

Touya never envisioned himself as a prospective earl following his father's demise. Ruling was never his inclination; instead, he was always drawn to adventures and battles.

[teecupangel]

Once upon a meadow, in the heart of the Enchanted Forest, lived a curious rabbit and a vibrant blue bird. The rabbit was known for his insatiable appetite for stories, while the bird had a talent for composing beautiful songs. One day, they discovered an ancient oak tree with a magical mailbox that promised to deliver letters to any faraway places.

Excitement sparkled in the rabbits eyes as he hopped around the bird. "Let's write many letters to put in it! Imagine the tales and tunes we could share!"

The bird, with a melodious chirp, agreed, and they began crafting heartfelt letters under the rustling leaves of the old oak tree. The rabbit added his whimsical anecdotes, and the bird penned verses that echoed through the enchanted meadow.

They wrote as much as they can and placed it in the mailbox hoping anyone could stumble upon some of the letters. Some were replied sooner, others took time but one specific letter was found by a courier and in haste did he went to deliver it.

Inside it says: "Desmond turns into a lamb. You could do whatever you want I just want to see Desmond as a lamb because symbolism lmao."

At the age of fourteen, the recruits of the Brotherhood were required to present a kill to the mentor. It could be any kind of animal but the Brotherhood preferred it to be some kind of animal that can be cooked and shared to everyone.

It was a way to prepare them to the inevitable time that they must take the life of another.

Their kill must always be in the presence of an Assassin of Master rank or higher. Someone who can provide guidance and protection for unforeseen circumstances.

They would usually be someone connected to the recruit, the one who found them or a blood relative.

Altaïr had neither.

Had his father been alive, he would have been the one to guide Altaïr.

Al Mualim, who had taken over Umar’s duties since Altaïr was eleven, could not do it. It would have been seen as something more in the eyes of many Assassins.

So the duty befell Faheem Al-Sayf as one of the few remaining Assassins to have known Umar Ibn-La'Ahad back in Alamut that was still of good body necessary for this tradition.

Tomorrow, he would do the same for his oldest son.

Faheem had never interacted with the young Ibn-La'Ahad. Those blindly loyal eyes trained at Al Mualim reminded him too much of Umar, making his mind annoyed and his heart ached in equal measure.

It was a travesty for him to be in charge of the young boy’s first kill. He and Umar had opinions and they were, for most part, on opposite sides. What their brothers call friendship was build on mutual annoyance and the stubborn desire to win against their opponent’s opinions.

Umar had been closer to Ahmad, the man who dogged at Umar’s every step.

But both of them were dead.

And it was small mercies that Ahmad’s boy would be guided by another than Faheem due to scheduling conflicts.

Still…

Faheem could feel a headache coming.

He knew something was wrong the moment they exited Masyaf and went to a nearby woods to hunt, only for a lamb of pure white color to come tumbling out of the bushes and run towards Altaïr, letting out sweet sounds as if trying to talk to the boy.

The boy had froze for a moment and locked eyes with the lamb before he began to pet the animal, slowly at first, seemingly in a trance or just plain confuse by what was happening.

When Faheem said that they were lucky and ordered Altaïr to make it quick and painless, both the boy and the lamb turned towards him with wide eyes.

Faheem felt like he was the villain all of a sudden.

“Altaïr…” Faheem rubbed his face before letting out a sigh.

If it was Malik, he would have told the boy to remember his mission and he knew his son would do it.

If it was Kadar, he would have done the same and his youngest would do it as well with tears streaming down his face, apologizing over and over again.

They would both get over it quickly enough.

But he didn’t know about Altaïr.

All he heard about Altaïr was that he was the best of the recruits and never complained over anything, no matter how hard or unfair training becomes.

But he also saw the way the boy’s face softened and the small smile he gave when he started to pet the lamb.

A bleeding heart was nothing but a weakness in the eyes of the Brotherhood and their master.

It might be harsh but Faheem needed to curb such a weakness before it leads to Altaïr’s downfall.

“Altaïr…” Faheem knew it was not his place to say such things. For a moment, he wished he could curse Umar for accepting his death so easily, “You must throw away what feelings you have for that animal. You cannot afford to be weak.”

Altaïr’s hands trembled before they gripped the lamb’s neck. The lamb stared at him with eyes that made Faheem uncomfortable.

There was intelligence in those eyes.

And understanding.

The lamb shook Altaïr’s hands off and bumped his head against the bow strapped on Altaïr’s back.

A quick death.

Was… was the lamb asking for a quick death?

Faheem stared at the lamb and realized…

Why was it alone?

Why did it approach them?

No.

Why did it approach Altaïr?

Faheem watched as the lamb walked away from them, turning around and letting out a sound towards Altaïr as if…

“Altaïr, wait!” Faheem ordered as Altaïr followed the lamb but the boy did not listen.

The lamb began to run and Altaïr chased after it.

Faheem chased them but the woods seemed to be against him for some reason.

No.

Altaïr was following the lamb’s steps better than him as it led them to the more dense part of the woods.

By the time he caught up to them, he froze when he realized that the lamb had led them to the claws of a wild bear.

There had been sightings of it from worried villagers and the Brotherhood had guessed that bandits had captured it from somewhere but had either left it or they had grown too greedy and the bear managed to escape.

“Altaïr!” Faheem shouted as he ran towards the boy who held the bow in his hands.

Faheem stopped when he noticed the determined expression on the boy’s face as he nocked an arrow.

The lamb was running in circles…

No.

It was bait.

The bear was chasing it and it knew it.

Altaïr fired one arrow, hitting the bear in the eye. He quickly fired another arrow, striking the bear between the eyes.

Altaïr didn’t falter nor slow down, striking the bear on the face with all the arrows he had.

The bear fell on the ground with a loud thump before Altaïr could fire his third to the last arrow.

The lamb slowly made its way towards the bear and tapped its head with a hoof before jumping back quickly. When it didn’t move, the lamb ran towards Altaïr and let out a loud energetic sound.

Altaïr returned the bow to his back before petting the lamb’s head as he said, “The Brotherhood do not accept unnecessary deaths.”

Altaïr turned to stare at Faheem and, for a moment, Faheem saw Umar’s face.

The same annoying face of that idiot who believed in the drivel he was saying with such faith that he would defend it to the bitter end.

“If caring for this one means I am weak…” Altaïr’s determination and stubbornness were clear in his face as he said, “Then I just have to become stronger than anyone else.”

“Strong enough to be weak just this once.”

That wasn’t how it goes.

Faheem knew he should say it but…

Instead, he sighed.

“Protecting the innocents is part of our duty as an Assassin.” Faheem said instead as he rubbed his face.

Ah.

He was getting the same headache he always had when he was dealing with Umar.

How annoying.

He turned around as he said, “It’s your kill so you drag it back to Masyaf.”

The sound that came from the sheep sounded a bit like a thank you.

Faheem shook his head.

He was thinking too hard about this.

If the boy wanted to have a pet lamb…

Faheem wasn’t anything to the boy. He had no say in this.

Altaïr Ibn-La'Ahad would have to take care of this himself.

= For those interested in the alchemist that sometimes appears in this tumblr =

“I… I don’t think we’re allowed to deliver any kind of living creature.” The courier said as he looked at the big innocent eyes looking up to him.

“It’s not a real creature.” The alchemist said absentmindedly, seemingly looking for something inside that huge container that was even bigger in the inside, “It’s a golem. Pretty much just clay imitating life.”

“Well this ‘clay imitating life’ looks and acts like a lamb.” The courier countered, “So unless you make the proper arrangement mandatory for shipping live creatures which includes enough food to cover the longest estimate for the entire delivery trip, a cage large enough for the creature to walk around a bit and-”

The alchemist let out a long suffering sigh and went towards the nearby table. They picked up some kind of long ribbon and a piece of paper, quickly writing something in it before walking towards the lamb.

The courier watched in horror, eyes widening and mouth gaping, as the alchemist just… struck their entire arm into the lamb. The lamb didn’t make any noise but there was some kind of squelching sound that made the courier want to gag. The alchemist pulled their arm out and the lamb froze, eyes glazing into nothingness. The alchemist shook their clay-covered hand before covering what seemed to be some kind of wooden trinket in the rough shape of a four-legged creature in their hand with the paper they wrote. Afterwards, they used the ribbon to secure both the paper and the trinket before tying it around the lamb’s neck.

“There.” The alchemist patted the lamb’s head and walked back to the container as they said, “Now it’s just a normal clay statue.”

It looked more like a taxidermy but… the courier wasn’t going to say anything more. He simply sighed and took the… statue… while saying, “I’ll place the order slip on the table before leaving.”

The alchemist simply waved a hand instead of answering him.

He sighed once more.

Thank the stars this was his last stop for today.