#Elixir of the Sun

[hwadam-stories]

⊹ PHANTOM PAINS ⊹ PILOT EPISODE

(black!fem!) mea harper!reader x ceo boss!dhan tae-oh

ᴍɪɴᴏʀꜱ ᴅᴏ ɴᴏᴛ ɪɴᴛᴇʀᴀᴄᴛ

I do not consent to my work being reposted, — stolen or translated anywhere else.

⊹ CW: long post, emotional cheating, unrequited love, depression, fluff, drama, etc.

⊹ SYNOPSIS: Celebrating his niece's birthday at a restaurant, Dhan recognizes you from across the room as his past lover from five hundred years ago and is determined to stop at nothing to be with you again.

⊹ A/N: this is my first serious fanfic, feedback on this pilot (comments, messages & reblogs only!) will help me consider continuing it with motivation. Canon divergent / somewhat canon compliant to the MEA CULPA (2024) film by Tyler Perry with some crossover aspects thrown in. I hope you enjoy!

⊹ ⊹ ⊹ ⊹ ⊹ ⊹ ⊹

"Does Your Majesty wish to meet again in our next lives?" You asked, wrapping your arms around him.

"Of course, were you considering abandoning me?" Dhan replied, chuckling.

"Okay then, when the time comes, I'll be your master once more." You promised. "Your love. Your pain. Even your very last breath, please give them all to me."

"They are all yours, y/n."

⊹ ⊹ ⊹ ⊹ ⊹ ⊹ ⊹

There was a time when those words meant everything to him.

A time when finding you meant everything to him.

But after his fifth life, Dhan had given up on his search and the phantom pains have haunted him ever since.

It was a pain that wasn't his, a pain that never faltered in reminding him of his failure despite the many times you two were reincarnated throughout the last five hundred years.

Your souls were connected after all and even though this pain has brought him a great deal of misery, part of him hoped you weren't feeling anything.

Presumably, because he was always reincarnated as a man, he assumed you would be reincarnated as a woman but other than that, he never really had any concrete way of finding you. It was safe to assume that since his ethnicity changed, yours did too.

Not that he particularly cared what race you were now, all that mattered was that he was reunited with you. But that promise has become nothing but a fleeting dream. A delusion Dhan couldn't completely let go of because this pain meant that you were alive, somewhere out there. Hopefully looking for him too.

In every lifetime after the first one, he always accumulated a great deal of wealth somewhere in his mid to late twenties under the name of Dan.

In this era, he was Dhan Tae-Oh, the boss of a CEO corporation in Korea and came from a long line of gangsters that reinforced the values of family and business to a rather high degree.

⊹ ⊹ ⊹ ⊹ ⊹ ⊹ ⊹

Tonight, he was celebrating his niece's 9th birthday and his sister-in-law's most recent promotion in the fashion industry.

His younger brother, Charles Kang, arranged everything at the finest Italian restaurant in all of Chicago, Illinois, called up Dhan three days before and here they all were.

"You know, we got lucky tonight." Charles set aside his fork and knife for a sip of wine.

"I initially planned to invite more people for Abby's dinner party but a larger group had already reserved a bigger table and I snagged us the only one they had left."

Now that Dhan gave it a second thought, Piccolo Sogno was unusually packed tonight and much busier than he had initially anticipated.

Even looking over his shoulder he could still see the glimpse of the same crowd he passed through, still waiting in line outside.

His assistant, Seon-woo, mentioned something about a on the rise celebrity artist being one of its more known customers over the last couple of years. No one Dhan had really heard of or cared to for that matter.

"Their celebrating their mum's birthday, I heard." Susan remarked, her posh accent gleaming through. She looked past her husband and over her shoulder, seeing the large the table behind them.

There were about five people and that one particular redheaded woman must've been the birthday mom. "Surely Abby won't mind sharing her special day when two cakes come out." Susan teased.

"You got me a cake?!" Abby gasped, beaming with a smile. "Is it a big one?"

"You can only have two slices, young lady." Susan tenderly pinched her daughter's cheek. "The last thing we need is you bouncin' off the walls at 2 o'clock in the mornin' on a school night."

Abby pouted and brought those puppy eyes straight to her uncle.

Dhan stifled a laugh, hiding that cheeky smile behind a half closed fist. "I'm sorry Abby, not even that can convince me to break your parents rules but I'll make it up to you when dessert arrives, I promise."

⊹ ⊹ ⊹ ⊹ ⊹ ⊹ ⊹

Dessert was served in the form of a double stacked white and pink frosted cake decorated with strawberries and red icing for the words "Happy 9th birthday, Abigail!"

Candles were blown and nine year old Abigail Kang became tonight's birthday girl that the staff (and some nearby tables) sang to. Pictures were taken and there were smiles all around.

The gift that Dhan purchased was a reasonably expensive one but not something he would ever think to showboat about. He simply had some connections here and there and thought to put them to good use for the short time he was going to be in Chicago.

"All fourteen of Taylor Swift's albums!?" Abby squealed, wrapping her arms around her Uncle Dhan and squeezing him tight. "I love it! I love it! I love it!"

Dhan laughed nervously, patting her head and squeezing her shoulder tenderly. "Your arms squishing my insides make that explicitly clear."

Everything was going great. Dhan was feeling great.

That is, until things weren't great anymore.

⊹ ⊹ ⊹ ⊹ ⊹ ⊹ ⊹

Dhan suddenly gripped the edge of the table to stop himself from keeling over on the floor of the restaurant.

His chest became uncomfortably tight and his head began throbbed with a splitting sensation.

The phantom pain had returned.

For the sake not wanting to make a scene or ruin what was already a perfect night, Dhan got his breathing under control, keeping some stoicism to his face to not alarm anyone.

The tightness in his chest seemed to lessen but the throbbing in his head wasn't going anywhere.

"Pumpkin, why don't me and you freshen up in the girls' room and leave the boys here, yeah?" As if on cue, Susan took her daughter by the hand and headed straight for the bathroom.

"Dhan." Charles sighed, addressing him in a somber tone of their birth language. Entirely oblivious to what his brother suffering with. "I know we haven't always seen eye to eye but I'm really glad you could make it tonight."

He was listening to his brother, or at least tried to.

The words were being drowned out by a sudden ringing in his ears, leaving him momentarily stunned that it almost felt like the world around him was going to spin.

But he wasn't feeling nauseous from the alcohol or a sudden fever. It felt more like ... resentment.

It put a bitter taste in his mouth and made him clench his fist at the end of the table until his knuckles went white.

His brother hadn't done anything wrong and yet Dhan was being swallowed whole by the sensation, not knowing where to place it.

It's just ... if his brother wasn't the problem, then who?

"Oh look! Her Majesty, The Queen has finally arrived." A woman's voice cackled in the air.

She was an older looking caucasian woman with red curly hair and wine red lipstick, belonging to the group that booked a table for nine and judging by the already opened wine bottle, she must've had a bit too much to drink.

That's when he saw you approach the table.

It was you. It was really you.

His soulmate.

⊹ ⊹ ⊹ ⊹ ⊹ ⊹ ⊹

"Don't worry son, your second wife will be on time." Azalia, your mother-in-law cackled, caressing the cheek of Kal, your husband.

His awkward shuffle of a smile made it crystal clear that whatever came out of her mouth tonight, he wasn't going to come to your defense anytime soon.

What can you expect from a man that holds his disrespectful mother over your marriage of three years?

What's worse is that Azalia had the nerve to invite the one woman she favored more.

Your husband's childhood friend, Jenna.

The same childhood friend that had become the topic of your marriage counseling session that your husband Kal had ditched midway through for this dinner party.

A session that you had to finish by yourself, making you the one who arrived late.

Jenna was a tall, light skinned woman with dark curly hair and a bright red dress with a V neck to show off a window of cleavage and a shortened skirt to show off her toned and slender legs.

And to add salt to fucking wound -- Azalia made sure Jenna sat next to your husband while you sat at the end of the table with your only friend and sister-in-law, Charlise.

"I'm sure you won't mind, y/n. You and Charlise probably wanna talk anyway."'

You looked at Kal, searching his gaze for something, any sign of him speaking up to his mother but to your utter disappointment he just let it happen.

You can only push down the intense feeling of resentment and agitation with a passive aggressive smile, taking your seat at the far end with Charlise.

This was going to be a long dinner to get through.

⊹ ⊹ ⊹ ⊹ ⊹ ⊹ ⊹

Apart from a brief exchange of words from your brother-in-law, Ray Hawthorne, and the couple sitting across from you, Charlise was the only saving grace at this table and frankly the only reason you kept it together as long as you did.

As much as you wanted to tear off that terrible red wig and burn it, you tuned out your mother-in-law whenever she made any more chide remarks about you.

Not much of a point in ignoring your husband, he was too focused on Jenna and giving Azalia one of the most expensive birthday gifts you had ever seen.

A silver and gold watch that you knew your unemployed husband didn't have the money for.

"Happy birthday mom, from me and y/n."

You scoffed in utter disbelief and stood up from your seat, grabbing your purse. "If you'll excuse me, I think I need some fresh air."

"Oh, well you take your time. We're doing fine here." Azalia insisted, smiling from ear to ear.

Kal was on the verge of getting out of his seat, expressing concern. "I can come with you babe--"

"No." You snapped coldly, barely sparing him a glance as you waved him off dismissively. "I'll be fine on my own, thank you."

Kal frowned, lowering himself back down with a defeated expression. "A-Alright, just don't stay out there too long."

You sighed into the night air, hands pressed against the metal railing while the people behind you carried on with their evening under the lit up patio roof. Glasses clanking, people laughing, wine pouring and plates clinking.

All of it was just background noise to drown out one particular thought that you couldn't run away from.

Maybe it's time to put this relationship on permanent leave.

It's not a pleasant thought. It never was. You and Kal had known each other for eight years and had been married for the last three of them. You've had your ups and downs like any other couple and got through it but this? This was too much. His mother was too much.

But that's probably what SHE wants. The sooner you're gone. The happier she'll be.

You only stuck it out this long because you genuinely loved Kal and Charlise was the anchor keeping you grounded.

As one of Chicago's most successful defense attorney's alongside your brother-in-law, you had everything and yet nothing at all with how your marriage was starting to fall apart, on top of shouldering the numerous bills since Kal lost his job as an anesthesiologist.

God, where did it all go wrong?

"Having a rough night?"

You were snapped out of your thoughts by the deep and smooth voice of a man walking up beside you. The cool night's breeze washing over you both.

He was a tall and handsome man of Korean decent. The darkness of his long hair making the crimson color of his eyes seem as though he were some beast straight out of a fairytale.

Alluring eyes that stared into you with a hint of sincerity and invitation.

You can barely hold in a chuckle, crossing one arm over the other to let your wedding ring glint in the moonlight. "That would be the understatement of tonight."

He sees this and can't hide the smirk on his face. "I don't blame you. In-laws can be infuriating like that sometimes. Especially mother-in-law's."

The restaurant wasn't exactly that big in terms of table arrangements so it makes sense one's antics would be overheard when they're standing around the biggest table in the room.

You chuckle again. The tightness in your chest starting to lighten but your smart enough to keep up you guard to shut down any potential flirting, even the harmless kind. "Can you expect anyone to act cordial on their birthday? I've been here all night without a single drink of my own and tolerating her has been exhausting."

You certainly weren't the type to open up like this to a stranger of all people but it felt good. Yes, you had your friend, Charlise, but there was something different about this man. Something oddly familiar.

"Because she's acting like a cunt towards you and only you and you feel that if you didn't step out when you did you would've tore her a new one right infront of her favorite son and the entire restaurant?" He guessed your exact feelings with a cheeky smile.

You exhale a baffled laugh.

It's like he knew exactly what you were feeling.

"Oh, so you're a mind reader now?"

He raises his right hands in mock surrender. "Guilty as charged, your honor."

The both of you laugh.

"Dhan."

"Y/n."

Dhan smiled, staring longingly into your eyes. "A pleasure to meet you, y/n."

⊹ ⊹ ⊹ ⊹ ⊹ ⊹ ⊹

Eventually, you were back inside the restaurant. Sitting comfortably beside Charlise and ignoring another passive aggressive comment from Azalia.

You had been gone for a solid eight, maybe ten minutes tops.

The dinner eventually ended and everyone was putting aside their plates and gathering up their coats and belongings while Ray generously secured the bill.

That's when the waiter approached with an expensive looking bottle of wine.

Ray dismissively waved his hand. "No need to send over anymore wine, sir. You can take that back, the dinner party is over."

The waiter shook his head. "I'm sorry sir this isn't for the table. I'm looking for a y/n, is there a y/n here?"

You raise your hand slightly to get the waiter's attention. "I'm y/n."

The waiter smiled at you, presenting the bottle. "Piccolo Sogno would like to formally gift you our most exclusive wine to enjoy right at home. On behalf of a generous courtesy from Mr. Tae-Oh, ma'am who wishes you a fine night. Thank you for you dining with us."

A bit stunned, you still accepted the bottle. That name alone already clued you in to who this was from.

Unaware of your husband's jealous gaze, you can't hide the smile on your lips as you read the note on the bottle.

A drink to wash away all your frustrations - Dhan.

[lovingwanda]

⌗ ︙ ・ Mugunghwa In The Spring ・

Empress Bayan x Fem!reader

➢ ﹒ ⊹ ₊ ˚ word count: 1,089

➢ ﹒ ⊹ ₊ ˚ post content: kissing, flirting, unrequited love, hurt / comfort, eating, wholesome, fluff, sapphic, etc.

➢ ﹒ ⊹ ₊ ˚ writer's note: I apologize in advance if I got any Korean terminology wrong, I'm not an expert on the language but this was just something I absolutely had to write for Bayan after finishing Elixir Of The Sun.

➢ ﹒ ⊹ ₊ ˚ Summary: The year is 1496 during the Joseon Era of Korea, You are a Kisaeng (government owned courtesan) that's recently been promoted to a higher rank and your talents have caught the sparkling eye of the Emperor's wife and she's more than thrilled to have your company for the day.

I do not consent to my work being reposted, stolen or translated anywhere else.

It was the beginning of spring and flowers in hues of pinks, whites and yellows were blooming all around. Her Majesty made the arrangements for your services the day before and sent three of her best palace servants to have you pampered and dressed for an evening stroll for a small picnic at Gwahae Lake.

You wore a beautiful hanbok of emerald greens and pastel pinks with a handmade and intricate gold hairpin made up of a flowery design with two dangling white pearls. It complimented the delicate blush and rose gold gloss on your face and made the brown in your eyes stand out perfectly.

Her Majesty marveled at you with a longing gaze of awe.

"I--I cannot thank you enough for your kindness, my lady!"

You stopped suddenly and lowered your head into a bow, both arms pressed tightly at your sides with your chest pounding like a drum, overwhelmed by your own body tensing up with nervousness with both eyes glued to the trail leading further out towards Gwahae Lake.

A stunned Bayan quietly stared at you with gentle eyes.

Being promoted after only eight months of being a lower ranked sampae (삼패) and jumping straight to a high ranked Ilpae (일패) has been quite the culture shock of an opportunity only a few girls your age could only ever dreamed of achieving after years of hard work.

"It's just, I never imagined I'd make it this far in such a short time."

Despite the anxiety in your body, the pounding in your chest lessened as you spoke. "Compared to the beauty and talent of the higher ranked courtesans, I'm just average." Not the most positive words but they were yours and true to how you felt.

"Y/n." Bayan cooed.

"Y-Yes, my lady?" You stammered, the nervousness wracking at you again.

Bayan placed a hand under your chin, gently lifting it for your eyes to meet hers. Her fingertips inches away from your lips, making your heart race with anticipation.

"Your beauty is something extraordinary in its own way." Bayan held both of your hands, her thumbs massaging your calloused knuckles. "And I wouldn't ever trade it for anything in the world."

From that moment forward, Her Majesty's affection for you became more and more clear and left you with so many thoughts.

The picnic that had been arranged had been placed close enough to get a wide but safe view of the lake. Sitting down against the thin cloth material as an array of sweets and sandwiches were laid out by the same three servants that dressed and washed you this morning, you just now realized that Her Majesty wasn't being accompanied by her usual guard, perhaps the Emperor's hidden assassins were keeping watch from a distance.

The two of you sat across from each other with food in between, covered by the shape of a few trees with pink and white Mugunghwa surrounding you.

A gentle breeze washed over the both of you as the conversation lengthened and the laughter began. You got to know a lot about Bayan and where she came from but there were more sensitive parts that she left vague and you got the hint not to press for anymore information.

Then she shifted the conversation to you.

"Oh, me?' You scratched the back of your head with a nervous laugh. "There's not much to say. My great grandparents were farmers and my grandmother and mother are first and second generation Kisaeng and eventually that got passed down to me."

You recall your time back home in the village. Your friends. The sights and smells from the marketplace. How your mother taught you how to bake and sew and the books you heard from your late grandmother to help you read and write since your family couldn't afford an education. Looking back at it all, it really did lessen the mistreatment from more socially high standing nobles and the harsh poverty you were so accustomed to.

"Even though the role of Kisaeng was passed down to me by the law and my mother worked hard to care for me, I always saw this sadness in her eyes whenever she smiled." There's a tightness in your chest, a melancholy feeling that almost tempts you to cry but you don't. Instead you smile through it.

Bayan's eyes softened, practically wanting to cry for you as she too understood the love of a mother doing everything to make sure her daughter was taken care of long after she's long gone. Even if it means she has to smile through the pain.

To your surprise, Bayan arms have suddenly wrapped around you, pulling you in tight. You are startled at first but steadily relax to the rhythm of your heartbeats syncing up and pulsing against one another.

"I-I hope I didn't upset you, my lady." You start stammering again. Your face becoming flushed with heat. "I--I don't usually speak about my personal life to anyone even if the ladies in my rank probably have similar stories."

"It's nothing like that, y/n," Bayan mumbled, "It's just I want you to know I understand where your coming from and a lot of what you said reminded me of my mother."

Eventually Bayan let go and the two women stared at each other for a moment. Awkward giggles and slowly eaten sweets to lighten the mood between them.

Somehow, the chocolate sweets made the moment that much sweeter, leaving a new found lightness in your chest as you played a song on the flute gifted to you from Bayan herself.

"Are you sure I can keep it? I-It's lovely but--"

"It's yours, y/n." Bayan assured, holding your hands again and curling your fingers around the instrument. "You may simply thank me by playing to heart's content." Her gaze lingered on your lips. "And please, call me Bayan from now on. There's no need for formalities between us."

Your eyes sparkles, your chest pounding with excitement. "Th-ank you, Bayan."

As you played to your heart's content through the course of your time together, Bayan plucked a nearby Mugunghwa and placed it into your hair and when the picnic was over, she just had to leave a goodbye kiss on your soft cheek as a thank you for spending the day with her.

You were a delighted but blushing mess of emotions that night that were sure to keep you awake.

[imperialsiyo]

⌗ ︙・Mugunghwa In The Spring・

Empress!Bayan x Fem!Reader

➢ ﹒ ⊹ ₊ ˚ word count: ~2,981

➢ ﹒ ⊹ ₊ ˚ post content: kissing, flirting, unrequited love, hurt/comfort, eating, wholesome, fluff, sapphic, etc.

➢ ﹒ ⊹ ₊ ˚ Summary: The year is 1496 during the Joseon Era of Korea. You are a Kisaeng (government-owned courtesan) who has recently been promoted to a higher rank. Your talent has caught the attention of the Empress, and she invites you for a peaceful afternoon picnic by Gwahae Lake.

It was a morning of renewal, the first day of spring, and the air was laced with the sweetness of blooming flowers—pink and white Mugunghwa blossoming all around the palace gardens. The distant sound of laughter from courtiers and the occasional chirping of birds made the palace seem almost serene. You could feel the warmth of the sun as it kissed the surface of your skin. Today was an important day, one you had been preparing for with trembling hands and a heart racing with anticipation.

Her Majesty, Empress Bayan, had personally requested your company for an afternoon picnic. It was not unheard of for the Empress to call upon Kisaeng, but something about this felt different. You weren’t simply a courtesan today. You were her guest.

Why me? The question lingered in your mind, casting a shadow over your excitement.

As much as you had climbed the ranks quickly in only eight months, becoming an Ilpae (일패) felt almost surreal. Many girls worked years for this status. And here you were, an enigma to yourself, invited by the Empress herself.

The palace servants had arrived earlier to dress and prepare you, bringing the finest hanbok you had ever worn—emerald green with pastel pink accents, delicate embroidery, and a handmade gold hairpin with two dangling white pearls. The intricate design left you in awe. Surely, this is far too luxurious for someone like me.

But there was no time for doubt as you were led through the palace to the Empress’s quarters, every step heavy with the weight of expectation. When you arrived at the appointed spot by Gwahae Lake, you were met by the sight of Her Majesty, sitting beneath the shade of a cherry blossom tree, the soft petals falling around her like confetti.

Bayan’s presence was radiant, her calmness commanding. She wore a serene smile as her eyes met yours, their warmth piercing through your nervous exterior. Her royal hanbok shimmered with delicate silk, shades of purple and silver, making her appear almost otherworldly.

You swallowed hard, forcing yourself to speak despite the knot tightening in your throat. "I—I cannot thank you enough for your kindness, my lady," you stammered, lowering your head into a deep bow, arms stiff at your sides.

The Empress paused, her eyes softening. "There is no need for such formality, Y/n," she said gently. "Please, come and sit. The day is far too beautiful for us to be weighed down by titles."

You blinked, feeling your chest tighten as she called your name. No titles? Her voice had a way of disarming your nerves, even as your heart pounded in your ears. Slowly, you raised your head and stepped forward, your hands trembling as you sat down on the cloth beside her.

"I—I'm honored, truly," you continued, your voice faltering. "I never imagined I’d make it this far in such a short time. I’m not like the other high-ranked courtesans, not as talented or skilled as them. It feels… undeserved."

There was a silence that followed your words, the kind of silence that made you want to shrink into yourself. Why did I say that? Self-doubt gnawed at you, but before you could say more, Bayan’s voice cut through the tension.

"Y/n," she said softly, her tone firm but compassionate. "Do you truly believe that?"

Your breath caught in your throat, and you found yourself unable to look away from her gaze. Her hand reached out, gently lifting your chin so your eyes could meet hers. "Your talent is what caught my eye, not your title. It is your ability to captivate those around you, whether through conversation, art, or song. You have a rare gift, one that cannot be taught. And that is why you are here."

Her fingers brushed lightly against your chin, and you could feel the warmth of her touch ripple through you. She thinks I’m talented? The disbelief mixed with a strange flutter of excitement in your chest, your breath hitching at her words. Her sincerity felt like a balm, soothing the insecurities that had plagued you all morning.

"My lady, I…" You tried to find the words, but your voice faltered, caught between gratitude and disbelief.

Bayan smiled softly, her hand moving to hold yours, her thumbs gently tracing the calloused skin of your knuckles. "Do not let doubt cloud your heart, Y/n. Talent cannot always be measured in the same way. You are extraordinary in your own right."

The sincerity in her voice stirred something deep within you, and for the first time, you allowed yourself to believe it—if only for a moment. You nodded, unable to find words, a faint smile tugging at your lips. Extraordinary… in my own way.

As the servants finished setting up the picnic, you and Bayan settled into a comfortable conversation. The lake sparkled in the afternoon sun, and a gentle breeze rustled the leaves above. An array of delicacies had been laid out: sweet rice cakes, fresh fruit, and small sandwiches prepared with precision.

You glanced around, noting the lack of guards. Normally, Bayan’s personal retinue would be close by. Perhaps they were watching from the shadows, or maybe she had chosen to have some semblance of privacy for the day.

"Tell me about your life, Y/n," Bayan asked, her voice gentle but curious. "I wish to know more about the woman behind the title."

"Oh, me?" You scratched the back of your head with a nervous laugh. "There's not much to tell. My family were farmers—my grandmother and mother were Kisaeng before me, and it became my path as well." You paused, smiling softly at the memory of your home. "My mother worked so hard, always with a smile on her face, but… there was a sadness in her eyes, even when she smiled."

The words came out softer than you intended, and you felt a pang in your chest, a melancholy that you had never fully confronted. The weight of inherited duty, the life of a Kisaeng passed down from generation to generation. The tightness in your throat threatened to overwhelm you.

"I suppose we all have burdens to bear," you said, your voice barely above a whisper.

Bayan was silent for a moment, her eyes filled with understanding. Then, without a word, she reached out and wrapped her arms around you, pulling you into an embrace. You froze for a moment, startled by the sudden contact, but soon found yourself relaxing against her, your heartbeats syncing in a gentle rhythm.

"You carry so much on your shoulders, Y/n," Bayan whispered, her breath warm against your ear. "But you do not have to bear it alone."

Your eyes widened as you melted into her arms. Her embrace was comforting, like the warmth of sunlight on a cold day. She’s so close… The realization of her tenderness made your face flush with heat, your mind a whirlwind of thoughts and emotions. You had not expected this level of intimacy, and it left you feeling both vulnerable and cherished.

"I hope I didn’t upset you, my lady," you stammered, your voice faltering as you pulled away slightly, though her arms remained loosely around you.

Bayan shook her head, her gaze soft and reassuring. "You did not upset me. I only wanted you to know that I understand." Her eyes held yours, and you could feel the weight of her words. "My mother was much the same."

There was a shared sorrow between you, an unspoken bond of understanding that made the moment feel heavier, yet somehow lighter. For a while, the two of you sat in silence, the sounds of nature filling the gaps where words could not.

Eventually, you smiled, the weight in your chest lifting as you reached for the flute she had gifted you earlier. "Are you sure I can keep it? It's lovely but…"

"It's yours, Y/n," Bayan said, her hand curling around yours, pressing the flute into your palm. "You may thank me by playing it to your heart’s content."

Your heart skipped a beat at her words, the warmth in her gaze sending a thrill through you. "Thank you, Bayan," you whispered, daring to use her name without a title.

As the day went on, you played a gentle melody on the flute while Bayan plucked a nearby Mugunghwa flower and placed it in your hair. The two of you lingered in each other’s presence, sharing sweets and quiet laughter until the sun began to dip below the horizon.

Before you parted ways, Bayan leaned in, her lips brushing against your cheek in a soft, lingering kiss—a farewell that left you blushing, your heart fluttering with the memory of her touch.

That night, as you lay awake, your mind raced with thoughts of the day.

You had never been this close to someone of such importance before. Her touch still lingered on your skin, a soft warmth that refused to fade even as the cool night air seeped into your room.

You replayed the kiss over and over in your mind, the gentle brush of her lips against your cheek, the way her fingers lingered in your hair as she placed the Mugunghwa there. The Empress had always carried herself with grace and dignity, but this… this was something far more personal, far more intimate.

What did it mean? you wondered, staring up at the wooden ceiling above your bed. You had been trained to entertain, to charm, but this was different. This was not the role of a courtesan—this was something deeper, something that made your heart race and your mind whirl with confusion. Was it affection? Friendship? Or something more?

Her words echoed in your mind: “You do not have to bear it alone.” There was a tenderness in the way she had spoken those words, as though she saw past your role, past the title of Kisaeng, and saw you—the real you.

You shifted in your bed, pulling the blanket tighter around yourself as a soft sigh escaped your lips. Could it be that Bayan, the Empress of the nation, truly saw you as someone more than just a performer? The idea sent shivers down your spine, both thrilling and terrifying.

The next few days passed in a blur of routine and duties. You were busy with lessons, performances, and entertaining officials, but your thoughts kept drifting back to that afternoon by the lake. Every time you closed your eyes, you could see Bayan’s smile, hear the softness of her voice, feel the warmth of her touch. It was maddening, how much you thought of her.

You tried to push the thoughts aside, reminding yourself of your place. You were a Kisaeng, trained to please, to perform. There was no room for personal attachment, especially not with someone of Bayan’s status. But no matter how hard you tried, the memory of that day lingered, wrapping itself around your heart like a vine.

Several days later, just as the cherry blossoms began to fall in full bloom, you received another invitation. The royal messenger had arrived at your quarters early in the morning, presenting you with a scroll bearing the Empress’s seal.

You unrolled it carefully, your heart pounding as you read the elegant script:

Y/n,

I find myself longing for your company once more. Join me this evening in the gardens. There is much I wish to discuss with you.

- Bayan

Your breath caught in your throat. Longing for your company… The words sent a flutter through your chest, and for a moment, you simply stood there, staring at the scroll in disbelief.

Without wasting any time, you prepared yourself, your mind a whirlwind of possibilities. What could she want to discuss? Had something changed since your last meeting? Was this a formal summons, or something more personal?

As the evening approached, you found yourself once again standing in the palace gardens, the setting sun casting a warm golden glow over the landscape. The air was filled with the soft scent of blooming flowers, and the distant sound of a waterfall trickled through the quiet.

Bayan was waiting for you under the same cherry blossom tree where you had shared your first afternoon together. She looked even more radiant in the evening light, her hair loosely pinned up, her hanbok flowing like water as she stood to greet you.

"Y/n," she called softly, her voice carrying through the air like a melody. "I’m glad you came."

You bowed deeply, trying to keep your composure. "It is always an honor to be in your presence, my lady."

Bayan smiled, her eyes crinkling slightly at the corners. "I told you before, there’s no need for formalities between us." She gestured for you to sit beside her, and once again, you felt that strange mix of excitement and nervousness as you obeyed.

For a moment, neither of you spoke. The silence was comfortable, filled with the sounds of nature and the soft rustling of the wind through the trees. You stole a glance at her, admiring the way the evening light danced across her skin, the way her eyes sparkled with something you couldn’t quite place.

"I’ve been thinking about you, Y/n," Bayan finally said, her voice soft but firm. "Since the day by the lake."

Your heart skipped a beat. "You have, my lady?"

She nodded, turning her gaze to the horizon. "There’s something about you that draws me in. It’s not just your talent, though that is undeniable. It’s the way you carry yourself, the way you speak, the way you seem to understand the world with such depth. It’s… remarkable."

You blinked, taken aback by her words. "I… I don’t know what to say."

"You don’t need to say anything." She smiled, her eyes locking onto yours. "I just wanted you to know."

A heavy silence fell between you, and for a moment, you weren’t sure what to do. Her words sent a flurry of emotions through you—pride, confusion, fear, hope. Did she see you as more than just a performer? Was there something deeper behind her compliments?

Bayan reached out, taking your hand in hers, her fingers warm against your skin. "Y/n," she said softly, "I don’t want you to feel as though you’re only here because of duty or obligation. I invited you here because I enjoy your company. Because… I care for you."

Your breath caught in your throat. "My lady, I… I’m not sure I understand."

Her hand tightened around yours, her eyes searching yours for understanding. "I know this must be unexpected for you. And I know our positions make things… complicated. But my feelings for you are real, Y/n. You’ve stirred something in me that I haven’t felt in a long time."

You felt your heart hammering in your chest, a mixture of fear and elation swirling inside you. "I… I don’t know what to say," you whispered, your voice barely audible.

Bayan smiled softly, her thumb brushing over your knuckles in a soothing gesture. "You don’t have to say anything now. I just wanted you to know how I feel. I don’t expect anything from you. I just… wanted to be honest."

For a moment, you could only sit there, stunned by her confession. The Empress of Joseon, the most powerful woman in the land, had just confessed her feelings for you. It was overwhelming, and yet… there was a part of you that had longed for this, a part of you that had felt the same way but had been too afraid to admit it, even to yourself.

Slowly, you nodded, your eyes meeting hers once more. "Thank you… for your honesty, my lady," you said quietly. "I… I’m honored by your words."

Bayan smiled, her eyes softening with relief. "Take your time, Y/n. There’s no rush. We have all the time in the world."

As the sun dipped below the horizon, casting the gardens in a soft, golden glow, you sat there with Bayan, hand in hand, sharing a quiet moment of understanding and possibility. For the first time in a long while, you allowed yourself to hope—for connection, for something more, for a future that felt uncertain but full of promise.

And as you sat beneath the cherry blossoms, the world seemed to fade away, leaving only the two of you, together in the quiet beauty of the evening.

[manhwa-animated-cover]

[sakukaguxxi]

I actually ship these two🤭 too bad the author didn’t care much for exploring side character relationships😭 Series is Elixir of the Sun

[neoitem]

[akanidaifanatic]

does anyone know a free site where I can read elixir of the sun???

I’ve looked high and low and under every Google rock. still nothing. someone help me—

[rndmraichu]

I love how extra he is

[jeunghwa]

SAMA-HYEON (사마현) - The name Hyeon is primarily a gender-neutral name of Korean origin that means "Worthy" and "Virtuous". The name Sama is of Japanese origin and means "Sky" and "High Status".

[soft-cloud-pillows]

[hwadam-stories]

₊ ˚ ⊹ #HWADAMSTORIES 𓂃 ࣪ ˖ .ᐟ

a writing blog for anything and everything related to the elixir of the sun manhwa, originally written by Soldam and illustrated by Song Yi, a historical romance story about fate, destiny and an eternal love. 3/7/24.

sign the petition to get this manwha animated!

🌺 INTRODUCTION

first and foremost, this blog is a sideblog to my roleplay blogs IMPERIALSIYO and JEUNGHWA you'll receive a follow back from those blogs upon following this one.

my name is moe (she / her) twenty-four. black and cherokee-indian, thank you for coming by and checking out my blog. I highly encouraged coming into my inbox and interacting with me (messages, requests, etc) because I genuinely love that stuff with my whole heart.

due to the nature of my blog and the manhwa itself, minors and ageless blogs are prohibited from interacting with me and will receive an immediate block. this blog and it's contents caters only to an adult audience. Please refer to this post to know more

🌺 REQUESTS / GUIDELINES

I do not consent to my work being translated, plagiarized or reposted anywhere else.

Sharing is caring! Likes do nothing for my fics other than serving a bookmark for you, so please consider reblogging my fics to share with others so more people can read and enjoy them!

While my inbox is open to requests (both anonymously and non) I do reserve the right to decline any submissions that either breaks my rules or makes me uncomfortable.

That being said, I love crossover content of any kind and absolutely encourage more than just reader x character fics! I'm in many fandoms like Wandavision, Castlevania, Inuyasha, Disney, Jujutsu Kaisen, American Dad, Archer, Hazbin Hotel etc.

POINTS OF VIEW: male, female, deaf, blind, black (African-American), etc.

WHAT I WON'T WRITE: non-con, pedophilia, beastiality, gross / weird kinks, illegal age gaps, etc.

WHAT I WILL WRITE: fluff, smut, familial dynamics, romance, violence, blood, death, alternate universes, alternate scenes, legal age gaps, Headcanons, oneshots, yandere, etc.

🌺 CHARACTER LIST (see images here)

[ganak village]: Rangbi, Jahan, Saran, Yul

[hwadam kingdom]: Emperor Dhan, Bayan, Chief Secretary Juhyul, Chief General Ga-Yerang, Suyeon

[concubines]: Sama Hyeon, Han Bia, Ye Tae Im, Karan

characters from other fandoms

🌺 ABOUT THE MANHWA (read it here)

Bayan is an outcast amongst the Siyo, a people who have healing powers. Considered worthless because she doesn’t have the ability to heal others, Bayan is sent to the court of Dhan, the Great Sun Emperor, who is cursed with unrelenting bloodlust and slaughters his concubines mercilessly. It seems that Bayan’s fate is sealed the moment she reaches the emperor’s palace and Dhan is fated to suffer from madness forever... But together, Bayan and Dhan just might be able to change each other’s destiny.

Elixir Of The Sun is a historical romance about our main characters Dhan and Bayan overcoming fate and finding love in one another through trials and tribulations. The Manwha is adapted from the light novel "Lord Of The Sun" written by Soldam and does contain dark, sensitive and explicitly adult scenes where as the manhwa is careful to tone it down for a mature audience.

🌺 TRIGGER WARNINGS!

Should you choose to read Elixir Of The Sun, please keep in mind that:

- sexual violence is part of its story in terms of information (no scene is ever depicted but there is a close call regarding the main character in chapters 9 & 10)

- depictions of self inflicted injuries (the main character has healing blood and has to stab herself multiple times throughout the story)

- a failed un-aliving attempt in chapters 41 & 42. The main character was sleepwalking.

- In Chapters 110 - 115 there is a extreme depiction of excessive blood and violence but no gore is present.

Thankfully, the story doesn't force its plot to have these things as the main point, it merely uses these plot devices to reinforce and focus on the romance and subtle fantasy plot surrounding the bond of Bayan and Dhan.

[lovingwanda]

Elixir Of The Sun - Fanfic Banners ⋮ ᴍɪɴᴏʀꜱ ᴅᴏ ɴᴏᴛ ɪɴᴛᴇʀᴀᴄᴛ.

image count: 1,000+ (ongoing)

character focus: bayan (female lead), scenery, side characters.

content: nsfw, partial nudity, nudity, pregnancy, kissing, self harm, blood, violence, body horror, food, knives, etc.

writer's note: like or reblog if using and be sure to credit me. I make these during my own spare time and decided to share them publicly for free. Be sure to tag me in any fics of yours too if you use my banners!

[imperialsiyo]

︙🌺 A SWEET DAY IN THE PALACE 🌺︙

➢ ﹒ ⊹ ₊ ˚ word count: 2,337

➢ ﹒ ⊹ ₊ ˚ post content: kissing, flirting, teasing, eating, wholesome, fluff, fxm, canon pairing, etc.

➢ ﹒ ⊹ ₊ ˚ summary: It's White Day in the Hwadam Empire, a day where lovers share gifts and spend time together. And there's only one woman within the empire that His Majesty wants to spend this day with.

Bayan sat cross-legged under the shaded pavilion, her black robes pooling around her as she studied the assortment of colorful candies scattered on the lacquered table. Her sharp eyes narrowed as she picked up a translucent red one, holding it to the light like it was a gemstone with some hidden curse inside.

"So... this is food?" she muttered under her breath, doubtful.

Across from her, Emperor Dhan leaned back gracefully against a wooden pillar, one arm resting casually on his bent knee. His crimson robes shimmered like embers in the afternoon sun, but it was his gaze—burning, unwavering—that made Bayan fidget.

“Candies,” he corrected with a faint smile. “You eat them for pleasure, not sustenance.”

Bayan’s lips pressed into a skeptical line. She sniffed the candy cautiously. "Feels suspicious. You sure no one slipped poison in these?"

Dhan’s brow arched. “Do you truly think I would give you poisoned sweets?”

Her expression remained deadpan. “You say that like people haven’t tried worse.”

A low chuckle rumbled from him. “Fair point. But today is different.”

Bayan squinted at him. There it was—one of those cryptic things he always said when he was about to do something outlandishly imperial. “Different how?”

Instead of answering right away, Dhan reached forward, his long fingers plucking a pink candy from the pile. He held it between them, the movement oddly intimate. “Today is a day where a man shows his appreciation for someone special by giving them sweets.”

Her brows shot up. “You’re joking.”

He didn’t flinch. “I’m not.”

Bayan blinked at him, utterly perplexed. “So... you’re telling me there's a whole day dedicated to giving someone candy just because you like them?”

“That’s correct.”

A loud snort escaped her before she could stop it. “That’s the most ridiculous thing I’ve ever heard. Who comes up with this stuff? Why not give rice or meat—something practical?”

Dhan’s lips curved into a knowing smile. “Not everything has to be practical, Bayan. Sweets symbolize joy. Indulgence. Happiness.” His voice lowered slightly. “Sometimes, it’s good to simply cherish the sweetness in life.”

She popped the red candy into her mouth, chewing thoughtfully. The syrupy sweetness spread across her tongue, and she had to admit—it was pretty good. Still weird, though.

“So... this is what lovers do?” she asked around the candy, her words muffled.

Dhan’s gaze darkened slightly, the flicker of amusement in his eyes giving way to something deeper. He leaned forward, closing the distance between them. “Yes. That’s exactly what it is.”

Bayan’s chewing slowed. Her pulse quickened under his steady gaze, the heat of it wrapping around her like a warm cloak. She was used to his affections by now—the way he sought her out despite the countless concubines vying for his attention, the way his touch lingered longer than it should—but today felt... different.

“Wait,” she said, swallowing hard. “If this is a lovers’ thing, doesn’t that mean I’m supposed to give you something too?”

Dhan tilted his head, his expression thoughtful. “Is that an offer?”

Her eyes darted to the pile of candies. She grimaced. “I mean... I could share these. But they’re really good, so maybe just one.”

His laughter was low and rich, filling the pavilion. “Then I’ll cherish that one as the sweetest gift of all.”

Bayan rolled her eyes, though her lips twitched with a reluctant smile. “You’re ridiculous.”

“And yet,” he murmured, brushing his thumb across her cheek, “you’re still here.”

Her heart stumbled, but she leaned into his touch without thinking. His hand was warm, grounding. It was moments like these—when he stripped away the weight of the crown and simply looked at her like she was his entire world—that left her breathless.

She cleared her throat, trying to shake off the warmth creeping up her neck. “You know, if the other concubines see you doting on me like this, they’re going to lose their minds.”

Dhan’s eyes gleamed with quiet amusement. “Let them.”

Bayan snorted. “You really don’t care, do you?”

“I care about you,” he said simply.

Her breath caught. She wasn’t used to such direct words. In Ganak Village, affection was a rare commodity, twisted by fear and hatred. And yet here he was—an emperor of all people—telling her that she mattered.

“Okay, okay,” she said quickly, trying to deflect. “No need to get all mushy.”

Dhan smiled knowingly but didn’t press further. Instead, he reached for another candy, holding it to her lips. “Here.”

She blinked. “I can feed myself, you know.”

“Humor me.”

With a sigh, she let him place the candy in her mouth, the sweetness melting on her tongue. His gaze never wavered, and for once, Bayan didn’t look away.

Maybe, she thought, there was something to this whole candy thing after all.

︙🌺 A SECRET PROJECT 🌺︙

The warmth of the afternoon had faded into the soft embrace of twilight. Bayan stood near her writing table, chewing her lip as she stared at the blank parchment in front of her. The flickering lantern cast long shadows across the room, but none loomed as daunting as the task she'd foolishly decided on.

A gift for His Majesty.

"What was I thinking?" she muttered, gripping her brush a little too tightly. "Poetry. Seriously? Who do I think I am, some palace scholar?"

Her first instinct had been to cook something—at least she knew her way around a fire and a knife. But food felt too ordinary, and after his thoughtful gestures today, she wanted to give him something meaningful. A poem had seemed like a brilliant idea in the heat of the moment. Now, staring down at the empty parchment, it felt like the worst decision she'd ever made.

"Just words, Bayan. You know words. You yell them at people all the time," she muttered to herself.

Her gaze flickered to the pile of scrolls on the corner of the table—doctrines, historical records, and even poetry collections that Emperor Dhan had let her read as part of her lessons. Well, "let" might be too kind a word. More like ordered her to read. Still, there had been some verses tucked between the dry records. Flowery, elegant things about love and seasons and cherry blossoms.

She grimaced. "Great. Now I just have to not embarrass myself completely."

Her brush hovered over the parchment as she tried to recall the structure of one of the poems she'd read. The characters blurred in her mind, some of them still stubbornly foreign despite her improving literacy. She'd gotten better, sure, but Korean writing was still a beast she hadn't fully tamed.

"Okay, okay. Keep it simple," she muttered. "It’s not about being perfect. It’s about the thought, right?"

Even as she said it, she could practically hear Emperor Dhan's amused voice in her head: "Is that your excuse for sloppy work, Bayan?"

She scowled at the imaginary version of him. "Shut up."

Determined, she dipped her brush into the ink and started writing. Her strokes were shaky, uneven, but she pressed on.

The sun burns red, yet not as fierce as you.

Your gaze a flame, warming my strange heart.

A single ember, unyielding.

Bayan paused, frowning. Did that sound too cheesy? Too dramatic? She wrinkled her nose but decided to leave it. Dhan would probably find a way to tease her about it no matter what she wrote.

After a few more lines, she leaned back, surveying her work. It wasn’t great—heck, it wasn’t even good—but it was hers. That had to count for something.

The door creaked slightly, and her heart leapt into her throat.

"Bayan?"

She panicked, frantically slapping the parchment down on the table and throwing herself over it as though it were a top-secret battle strategy.

Emperor Dhan's silhouette filled the doorway, his crimson robes catching the lantern light. His expression was amused, as though he knew exactly what she was up to.

“What are you doing?” he asked, stepping inside.

“Nothing!” she blurted, too quickly.

His brows rose. “Really?”

“Yes.” She shifted awkwardly, still shielding the parchment with her body. “Totally normal concubine stuff. Sitting. Thinking. Breathing.”

He chuckled, the sound low and warm. “You’re a terrible liar.”

“I’m not lying,” she insisted, though her face was heating up faster than a cookfire.

Dhan’s gaze flickered to the corner of the parchment peeking out from under her arm. His lips curved into a wicked smile.

“Ah,” he said slowly. “A secret project?”

Her eyes widened. “Don’t even think about it.”

He took a step closer, clearly enjoying himself. “Why so protective? Is it a gift for me?”

“No!”

His grin widened. “You’re a worse liar than I thought.”

Before he could get any closer, she scrambled to her feet, clutching the parchment to her chest. “If you sneak a peek, I swear I’ll—I'll—uh...”

“You’ll what?” he challenged, amusement dancing in his eyes.

She glared at him. “I’ll... not finish it, that’s what!”

Dhan laughed, the sound rich and genuine. “Fine, fine. I’ll wait. But it better be worth the suspense.”

Bayan huffed, her heart racing. “It will be. Maybe.”

He gave her a lingering look before turning toward the door. “I look forward to it, then.”

As he left, Bayan let out a breath she hadn’t realized she was holding. Her hands trembled slightly, but she clutched the parchment tighter, determination flickering back to life.

“You’re not sneaking a peek,” she muttered under her breath. “Not until it’s perfect.”

With renewed focus, she sat back down, her brush steady this time. She was going to finish this poem—even if it killed her.

︙🌺 THE POEM 🌺︙

It was a crisp morning, and Emperor Dhan's office was filled with the low scratch of brushes against parchment as his two secretaries worked diligently. Scrolls were spread across the wide lacquered desk, along with reports from the provinces and imperial decrees awaiting the emperor’s seal.

Dhan, seated at the center of it all, exuded his usual air of calm authority, his burning red gaze scanning through a report. Even amidst the quiet industriousness, there was an underlying tension—the empire waited for no man, not even its ruler.

Then came the clatter of hurried footsteps.

Before the secretaries could react, the doors burst open with enough force to rattle the hinges. Bayan strode in, her black robes swishing around her legs, hair slightly wild, and cheeks flushed with determination.

"Your Majesty!" she declared.

Both secretaries froze, their brushes suspended mid-stroke. One of them opened his mouth, probably to remind her of decorum, but she was already moving—straight toward the emperor.

Dhan’s lips curved into a slow, knowing smile.

"Bayan," he greeted, amusement flickering in his eyes. "To what do I owe this—"

Before he could finish, she plopped herself right onto his lap, her weight settling against him without hesitation. His hands instinctively moved to steady her, one resting on her waist.

The secretaries exchanged wide-eyed glances, their faces a mixture of shock and confusion. This was not standard palace behavior.

"Carry on," Dhan said smoothly, waving a hand at them.

They hastily returned to their work, though their ears were undoubtedly straining to catch every word.

Bayan, oblivious to the scandalized atmosphere she'd created, fished a slightly crumpled parchment from the folds of her robe. Her short, stubby fingers—smudged with ink—clutched it tightly, and her bitten-down nails bore the evidence of nervous chewing.

"I made this for you," she announced, thrusting the parchment toward him.

Dhan arched a brow. "Oh? Is this the mysterious project you've been hiding from me?"

"Yes. And don't laugh," she warned, her blue eyes narrowing. "I worked really hard on it."

His gaze softened. "I would never laugh at you, Bayan."

She hesitated, then placed the parchment in his hand. Her heart thumped loudly in her chest as he unfolded it, his expression growing focused. The ink was a little smudged in places, and her writing was uneven, but the effort was undeniable.

The sun burns red, yet not as fierce as you,

Your gaze a flame, warming my strange heart.

A single ember, unyielding,

And I am drawn like dry wood,

Eager for the blaze.

Your words linger like smoke,

Weaving through my thoughts even in sleep,

Stirring restless dreams where no shadows dare dwell.

I would chase that light forever,

If it meant never returning to darkness.

So I offer these humble words,

Woven from ink and heart,

In the hope they can carry even a fraction

Of what burns quietly inside me.

Dhan's thumb brushed over the parchment as he read the words again, slower this time. His expression shifted—no amusement, no teasing. Just quiet, genuine appreciation.

"You wrote this," he said softly.

Bayan fidgeted, her face heating up. "Well... yeah. I mean, it's not great or anything, but—"

"It's beautiful," he interrupted, his voice firm.

Her eyes widened. "Really?"

He nodded, his gaze never leaving hers. "You have a gift, Bayan. This is... meaningful."

Her breath caught in her throat. She'd expected teasing, maybe a playful remark about her messy handwriting. But this—this sincerity was almost too much to handle.

She tried to play it off with a laugh. "Well, I figured you do all these fancy things for me, so I should at least try to do something for you."

Dhan's grip on her waist tightened slightly. "You already give me more than you know."

Bayan's throat felt tight, and she looked away, pretending to brush a non-existent speck of dust off her robe. "Okay, okay, enough of that serious talk. You're making it weird."

He chuckled, the sound low and warm. "As you wish."

Before she could react, he pressed a kiss to her temple, lingering just long enough to make her heart race.

"Thank you for this," he murmured against her skin.

Bayan swallowed hard, fighting the sudden urge to melt into a puddle on the floor. "Yeah, well... you're welcome, I guess."

Behind them, the secretaries exchanged furtive glances, clearly bewildered by the scene unfolding before them. But neither Bayan nor Dhan paid them any mind.

This moment was theirs, ink-smudged hands and all.

[mariposasblancasblog]

El elixir del sol

Sinopsis Una marginada y un emperador maldito… una pareja destinada al sufrimiento y la locura, ¿no? Tal vez sea todo lo contrario. Bayan es una marginada entre los Siyo, un pueblo que tiene poderes curativos. Sin la capacidad de curar a otros, Bayan es considerada inútil y la envían a la corte de Dhan, el Gran Emperador del Sol. No suena tan mal, ¿no? El problema es que Dhan está maldecido con…

[journeytothewestresearch]

How to Kill Sun Wukong

Have you ever wondered what it would take to kill Sun Wukong? My new article describes a ritual borrowed from Investiture of the Gods (Fengshen yanyi, 封神演義, c. 1620) that would certainly kill our hero. It involves a secret, spiritual assault from a distance. That way, the villain doesn't have to worry about getting smashed into hamburger or ripped to shreds by an angry monkey immortal.

The ritual steals an immortal's spirit, tethers it to a straw effigy, and then kills the target by shooting the effigy in the eyes and heart with arrows.

[youling-the-ghost]

I know that they would probably be hesitant to do it, but I'd love for sfth to do a skit based on Chinese mythology.