Faeries - Tumblr Posts
A windflower fairy this time. I heard my Grandma has shingles, so I whipped up a get-well-soon card for her yesterday. I hope it will cheer her up until she's feeling better.
...In hindsight, these are not the most botanically accurate windflowers I have ever drawn...
This time it's a moth fairy! This is a birthday card I painted for my Grandma last week.
She's loosely based on the Venezuelan Poodle Moth picture that went round a while ago.
(I swear I am working on things that aren't fairies, they're just not ready yet.)
You know, I wasn't expecting my first (and hopefully last lmao) most-stereotypically-gay character ever to be a nonbinary (any/all pronoun-ed), morally dark-grey faerie chaos god.
But you know what?
I fucking love them for it.
(The Existence of Magic is an absolute sassy QUEEN and omfg, I wouldn't trade them for the world. They're pretty evil at times, but like,,, omfg. Their charisma. They're like an old-fashioned disney villain. Guys. I want to turn this SUPER SPOILERY late-series outline into a fully-fleshed out scene and share it with everyone. Please help stop me--)
Also @the-letterbox-archives has decided Magic's pronoun is "babygirl" so uh,,, have fun with that knowledge.
Taglist and Existence of Magic snippet beyond!
Redacted: "I'm sure you know of my relationship with Zenebe--" Magic: slowly furrowing one eyebrow and raising the other as high as possible-- Redacted: voice growing uneven: "--and that I--" Magic: drops their eyes to their hand, checking out their long, sharp fingernails Magic: dismissively: "I cannot buy your boyfriend, no matter how--" (gets interrupted; skipping) Magic: gives another combo laugh-scoff-eyeroll as they throw a hand out, beginning to meander back and forth lazily "--as I was saying, I cannot buy your boyfriend from Mulul no matter how many favors you request from me. I cannot take him without either his or Mulul's consent--" Magic: flicking their hand out, turns to face Redacted again "--and he's rejected, as you know, while Mulul is quite attached to that one. He is their trainer. I've asked." Magic: flashes Redacted a sharp-toothed, roguish grin as he looks up at them
Everything taglist: @honeybewrites @the-golden-comet @illarian-rambling @ashirisu @urnumber1star
@48lexr @aalinaaaaaa @thecomfywriter @paeliae-occasionally
A faerie introduces himself. Then, holding out a hand, asks, “And your name, please?”
And, like a fool, you give it to him.
This just gave me a brain wave for a story I’ve been wanting to write for a while now. Thank you!!
You’ve always loved to sing. As a child, you could be found singing almost constantly, something that people found adorable and annoying in equal measure. Even once you became an adult, your urge to sing never faltered, many people even called your voice hypnotising. As you felt quite plain in all other aspects, you never took for granted your ability to sing.
When you moved out of your parents home, you chose to move to a sweet little old cottage, outside the city, it was rather beat up but you were patient and adored its potential. It came with its own greenhouse, and a lovely little area that backed onto the forest where you could grow things. And grow things you did.
It took quite a bit of work to clean out the weeds and trash, but soon enough you had it clear, ready to bring life to this dreary place. Each day, you would make your way into your garden and greenhouse, lovingly planting anything you desired. Now that you no longer had to censor yourself, you sang freely, voice carrying itself loud and clear as a bell, on the wind.
You didn’t notice them at first, though you felt their gaze, but after some time, you started to notice the tiny creatures in the forest, watching and listening to you sing. One day, you locked eyes with one, watching them freeze in fear and uncertainty. Your heart fluttered in awe, and your voice faltered for a moment, but you quickly regained your composure and with a smile, began singing directly to them.
From that day on, the creatures got more and more bold, gradually following you into your little garden and green house themselves. They would listen to you sing, sometimes joining you with their bell like voices. Eventually they began to dance to the sound of your voice, and you got the chance to see them fully for the first time. Faeries you realised. Their tiny bodies glowed faintly, shimmering wings fluttering at their backs. Each of them was unique, but just as beautiful.
For months you continued, adoring your strange new friends, your heart soaring at how much they adored your voice. They came to trust you, no longer keeping distance, and instead becoming bold enough to touch you, riding on your shoulders or head, or dancing around you as you went about your day. Sometimes they would wind flowers into your hair, or place crowns of flowers atop your head. You loved them dearly, loved listening to their tinkling laughs and bell like voices, they had become dear friends to you, and seemed rather flattered when you told them as much. They made certain to show that they cared for you too.
Kneeling in the earth, as you lovingly tended to the young saplings you had planted only a few days ago, you admired the beauty of your garden, surprised by how well and fast, it had grown. Feeling a song bubble up in your chest, you smiled and started to sing again, laughing as your little friends fluttered their wings in excitement. They seemed even more eager for you to sing than usual today, glancing to each other in excitement, as if they were waiting for something. Smiling warmly at them, you paused in your gardening, fingers still pressed into the earth as you closed your eyes and began to pour your heart into your new song.
They were strangely silent this time as you sang, and eventually your song came to its end. Opening your eyes, you froze, breath hitching. Before you, kneeling in the dirt, despite their expensive, regal looking clothing, was someone you had never met.
Their features were ethereal, regal and slightly sharp. They were clearly not human, holding a truly unnatural beauty. They looked spellbound however, their voice breathless as they spoke to you, eyes wide and full of awe. You barely noticed your tiny friends practically vibrating with excitement, watching everything happen with a sense of anticipation. The stranger looked as though they wanted to reach out for you, but held back by sheer force of will, one hand hovering mid motion, as if to reaching out slightly, imploring.
“Please…. Won’t you sing for me once more, little star?”
YALL. Holly Black has a list of resources she's used for writing her books on the fair folk. I'm OBSESSED. I love her work and world building. it's so true to the heart of faeries
Map of Fae
I go absolutely Feral for Fae so I am ever so grateful that @hojo76 included it in his prompt idea
Anyways here you go
She hadn’t even wanted to take cartology in the first place—what kind of highschool offered it as an elective anyways?
She had marked it as last on her list.
But then the school secretary lost her class request form (because Janice hated her) and the principal wouldn’t let her switch (because he wasn’t paid enough to care) and so now she was stuck, cursing her way through a forest in the middle of a downpour.
“Fuck,” she slid on a patch of mud, catching herself at the last moment. Her paper, gleefully marked with the edges of the park, waited for her to draw the trails and elevation onto it. By now, it was soggy.
She didn’t really care.
She took another step, almost tripped again, and swore to kill Janice as soon as she got back into school grounds.
Distantly, she heard her class mates yelling, voices tinged with some emotion she couldn’t identify over the rain.
The paper dissolved in her hands.
One more step.
This time, she didn’t catch herself as she fell, the ground slamming into her and sending the air rushing from her lungs.
Her class mates were still yelling, but they were louder now, and she realized the emotion in their voices was fear.
Her name.
They were screaming her name.
Below her, the ground bucked, heaving as if the earth itself was breathing, and then she was falling, fast and slow and loud and quiet and up and down and—
She was on the ground.
She blinked, sucking in a breath.
It smelled like jasmine, like childhood summer break, humid forests and old libraries.
The rain, she realized, had stopped.
A voice so melodic it hurt laughed, and she bolted into upright.
“Hello, frightened thing.”
The person in front of her was the most beautiful, terrifying thing she had ever seen. Perfection like that wasn’t supposed to exist—how was it fair, that all the moonlight and whispers and long grown forests could be contained into one being?
They smiled, like they could tell what she was thinking.
“Who—“ she stopped. “Where—“.
“I,” they began, “am fae. This is the fae realm. You took quite the fall.”
She coughed. Lovely. They were insane.
“I’m sorry,” she rose to her feet, bones aching. Around her, the forest gleamed. “Could you point me back to the park exit? I need to find my class.”
The person, the fae, was still smiling.
“Cartology,” they hummed. “Such an interesting subject. Trying to map everything, to contain the world upon paper.” They ran their finger over a branch. “It never was the best idea, now, was it?”
She swallowed. Her feet, she realized, had drawn her a step back. The person matched her, easily.
“I never told you my class was Cartology.”
They tipped their head.
“Of course you didn’t. I picked it for you.”
Her gut sank, and she let loose a slow breath. Eyes, gut, groin. She knew this, her sister had told her where to aim in situations like this. She hadn’t thought she would need to use it. Her fists clenched.
“Look, I don’t know who you think I am, or who you think you are, but I’m going to leave, and you aren’t going to follow me,” she spat. She pretended her hands were shaking from anger. Her raincoat was still damp.
Something on the persons face shifted, and they were studying her like she was the most fascinating painting.
When she stepped back, they didn’t bother to follow her. A branch snapped beneath her sneakers.
“The mouth on you,” they whispered. “So sharp. Such a smart, wicked mind.”
They smiled again.
“Pretty, too.”
They got closer, and she backed up further, and her knees hit a log.
“Back up. Now.”
They hummed.
Their hand twisted, and there was a paper in it. They tipped it forward, and there was her name, inked across the top.
Her class request form.
Her heart skipped a beat.
“Where did you get that,” she whispered. Her chest hurt.
“Janice, of course. Poor thing, so weak minded. It was easy enough, to have her switch you into Cartology. Just a little twisting, and she molded like putty.”
Their canines were sharp. Too sharp.
“Who are you.”
They laughed.
“Come now. I know you’re smarter than this; I know you. Figure it out.”
Her gut clenched. The forest, she realized, was dead silent.
When her mouth moved, she wasn’t even sure she was the one talking. “Fae.”
The Fae smiled wider.
“There you go.”
The request form burst into ashes, crumbling into nothing. She watched it with a sick sort of detachment.
“Why.”
“Why what?”
“Why Cartology?”
The Fae laughed, a musical sort of thing, sharp as knives.
“I need you to go into the woods.”
When she said nothing, they continued.
“I needed to have you.”
She glanced towards where she thought the entrance might be, and turned back to find the Fae dizzyingly close. They ran a hand along her jaw.
“Do you know how special you are?” They murmured. “So bright. How could I let them keep you?”
She swallowed, hard, and the Fae tracked the movement. Too beautiful. So beautiful it hurt.
“I am not a thing to be kept. I’m a person. I have a name. Just let me go back to my class and I’ll—“
“Darling, trust me. I know you have a name. But you’re wrong.”
“About what,” she said, and their eyes crinkled. They leaned in to whisper into her ear, breath cool as wind blowing across a lake. They smelled like salt water and moss.
“I can keep you.”
She jerked, shoved her hands against their chest. It did nothing. Her fingers gripped into their shirt hard enough it hurt, and she pushed harder, meaner, anything, please—
“I won’t let you take me, and I won’t let you keep me. I’ll escape, and I’ll hurt you, and then you’ll never see the outside of a prison again. I’m not going to be some docile thing for you—“
“I would never want you to be docile,” the Fae interrupted. “I just want you to be mine.”
“That will never happen—“ she swore, and they cut her off with a hand curled around her jaw. They tipped her head up, eyes boring into hers. Their grip tightened.
“Oh sweetheart. Of course it will. For now, though, I’ll give you some help.”
“Let go of me—“
The word they said next rolled off their tongue like the clearest note of music, like sunshine in winter, the sound of her sister’s laughter and the creak of the kitchen table.
The Fae said her name, and the world exploded into colors and sounds and shapes and voices and
The Fae laughed as she slumped into their arms, bones jelly and mind half between delirium and pure, unadulterated joy, false and sugar sweet on her tongue.
“Oh, hello you,” they murmured with amusement. Their hand stayed on her chin, and they pulled her against them, arm wrapping around her waist. They were warm, and that stupid, dazed part of her wanted to stay there forever.
She managed a weak, half muttered curse word, and they pressed a kiss to her forehead.
“God, I’m glad you’re mine. I waited so long to have you.”
She sobbed, and they shushed her, gently.
“Hush, now. I’ll make it better. Everything will be okay, you’ll see. Soon you’ll love it without any magic helping you.”
A tear slipped down her cheek, and they kissed it away. They tucked her limp head into their shoulder.
“It’s okay, love.”
They said her name again.
And she was gone.
Little snippet for you, fae flavored ❤️
“I love you infinitely, pet,” the fae murmured into her ear, and Clara laughed.
“I love you too.”
The fae smiled against their ear.
“But not to infinity?”
“My infinity is not the same as yours. You have it, and I never will,” she breathed, and stepped back.
“I could give you infinity,” the fae said smoothly. “If you wished.”
Clara laughed again.
“You know that’s not how immortality works.”
The fae got a confused twist to their mouth, like something she said irked them, but it was gone as quickly as sunlight over running water.
Clara tugged their hand.
“I love you for all of my eternity, however short. And I do not wish for immortality. I wish to spend my moments with you until I have no more to cash in.” She smiled at them, and whatever trouble had lingered between their brows vanished. “Does that not mean as much as your eternity?”
“I suppose it does, pet.
The fae still had that easy way about them, all long limbs and fluidity.
“Now. What was it you wanted to show me?” She asked.
Impossibly, the fae smiled more.
“Come, pet. Let me show you,” they lifted one elegant hand and the door glided open behind them. Clara followed them through in time to see the lights flicker on, one by one.
Her breath caught.
“What—“ she paused, her throat closing. “What is this.”
The fae turned to look at her, pride glimmering behind their eyes.
“My art gallery. Do you like it?”
Clara choked.
“Art—no. No, this isn’t art. How could you—“
She turned for the door, wishing for nothing other than to let her feet carry her from this wretched place, fast, fast, fast—
It slammed, shimmering as wards fell into place. Wards she knew held her name, entrusted on a now broken promise. Wards that would kill her before she was allowed to pass.
The fae glided deeper into the cavernous space, all white walls and gleaming pristine floors, as if they hadn’t heard her.
“It is beautiful,” they mused. “Nothing in here comes close to matching your beauty, though, pet.”
“Please,” she said under her breath, and she couldn’t stop her eyes from dragging across the pieces of ‘art’. “Let me go. Let them go. Stop this.”
The fae paused their careful stride.
“Oh, pet,” the fae simpered, and suddenly they were tucking her chin into their palm. “I can’t do that.”
“Of course you can,” she said bluntly. She thrust a hand towards the glimmering doors.“Just release the wards.”
The fae clicked their tongue. “I would,” they smiled, and it was just a touch wicked. “If I wanted to.”
Clara forgot to breathe, fury and sickness and betrayal rising in her chest and sinking into her stomach like lead.
“How can you not see how wrong this is—“
“All I see,” the fae interrupted, almost gently, “is beauty, forever cherished and kept. There is no pain or suffering here.”
“Of course there is,” she bit out. “You aren’t human. You don’t understand what this would even feel like.”
“I do this to understand, pet.” The fae tucked a piece of hair behind her ear. “I hadn’t found it before you. But I think you’re the answer. Out of everything in here, I cherish you the most. To have you depart from me would surely kill me, and see, it’s the most human thing I’ve ever experienced. Love,” the fae said wistfully.
“So then let it happen. Let me die in my own time. Feel the love and the loss and the grief, and then you’ll be more human than you ever have been. Then you’ll understand.”
The fae smiled like they were talking to an unruly child.
“Oh, darling pet. I told you, I do understand. You have given me understanding; I cannot bear to have you apart from me. So I’m doing the most human thing of all. I’m keeping you.”
“You cannot keep a human being—“
“This is what selfishness feels like,” the fae murmured. “It’s a vicious thing, I’ve found.” They smiled at her. “I quite like the burn of it.”
“You can’t do this to me, I won’t let you,” she swung her fist into their chest and it felt like hitting the side of a mountain.
The fae sighed.
“I never said you would let me,” the fae tucked her close to their chest, ignoring her as she writhed and shouted. “Oh, darling Clara,” they murmured, and her knees went slack. “Do stop fighting me, won’t you?”
Her body followed the command even as her mind protested, her spine quivering at the use of her name from a being like the fae.
It had never matter before. The fae had never used her name, even when she had given it as an act of love. Even as she blindly trusted them, they never once let those syllables fall from that ever sharp tongue.
But now— now they used it as a weapon, just as they used the rest of their words.
The fae ran a hand lovingly over her forehead.
“I must thank you,” they said as they picked her up, striding towards an empty pedestal. They took the time to position her just so, ensuring every angle of her body was perfectly aligned. “You have taken the beast of me and turned me human. And oh, is it so delightfully painful.” The fae clucked quietly to themself. “And such, I cannot bear the loss of you. Now, Clara dear, stay still for me.”
Her muscles froze into stone, ropes of concrete twining up her bones until she was more a statue than rock itself.
The fae smiled in adoration.
“You always were my favorite. Don’t let the rest of them tell you otherwise,” the fae strode for the door, stopping to call after themself. “I’ll be back soon. Don’t worry, you’ll be safe here, pet. I love you, eternally.”
The wards shimmered as the fae passed through, until Clara was left alone in a room of living statues that stretched for miles.
Her mother had told her never to trust the fae, but she had sworn this one was different. And judging from the hundreds of frozen humans in this room, they had sworn the same. She wondered if they cursed her, silently, for her stupidity. She wanted to tell them she was sorry.
She had been wrong. And so had they.
So she stayed—they all stayed, statues in an art gallery borne of the delights of a creature with stolen humanity.
Safe, and loved, and oh so still.
Forever.
Map of Fae Pt. 2
A piece of gravel had sliced its way into her heel, and with every step, it embedded itself a little further.
If she cared to look, she might have been able to make out the edges of her bloodied footprint before the rain washed it away.
She didn’t look.
Building lights came into view, soft and warm, in a dull kind of way
Not soft in the haze of sunshine, not warm in the scent of butterscotch.
Just yellow, in the way of humanity.
And somehow, that hurt.
She left blood on the glass pane as she pulled the door open—when had her hand started bleeding?
Her feet squelched slightly on the floor, and she looked down, staring dumbly at the floor. Her footprints were red. She was leaving puddles of water behind her.
It was raining. Had it always been raining?
Her hair stuck uncomfortably to her neck, and her dress was sticking too, and it was such a bright green and she hated it and it took her a moment to remember why and it hurt and she was scared and she was molasses and sugar sweet slow—
Thunder cracked, and the person at the front desk looked up.
One blink, two, and then—
“Miss, are you alright?”
She blinked rainwater and maybe blood and maybe tears out of her eyes.
The person rounded the desk—she looked nice, but not ethereal nice, just Girl Scout cookie and preservative nice, and her soul eased a bit—and she stopped a foot away from her and her bloody footprints.
The person—she was a cop? She was a cop, this was a police station, in the drum of heartbeats and guns.
The cop’s tone gentled.
“Did someone hurt you?”
Was hurt even enough to encompass it? Was the robbery of choice existence breath love freedom air life taste memory thought considered hurting?
She settled on “yes.”
The cop’s face softened further and she began to hate soft things.
“Hey, Roberts, grab Smith and tell him to radio an ambulance.”
There was a shuffling, and a man popped out.
He stopped when he noticed her.
“Is she—“
“I don’t know.” The female cop turned to her. “What’s your name?”
Her tongue turned to lead in her mouth and she purged herself of every syllable.
She wasn’t stupid enough to give that freely. Not after—no.
The cop simply nodded, as if she had expected this.
“How old are you?”
When she finally spoke, it sounded like it hurt, and it did. “What’s the date?”
The cop blinked.
“February 19th.”
When she didn’t answer, the cop added, “2023”.
Seven days. It had felt like forever and it had been a week? So much suffering, so much kaleidoscopic bending and it was a week?
Time, it seemed, was obsolete in the fae realm.
“17.”
Roberts disappeared, a radio crackled through the wall, and he returned with someone.
Maybe Smith. He looked like a Smith.
The cop took a step forward, and she took one back, and her heel bled more and the gravel sunk further and—
“Is there someone we can call?”
She couldn’t remember.
She felt like maybe she had once been the kind of someone who had someone else to call, who had someone’s at home who ran dishwashers and wrote to do lists. The cops looked like they had someone’s.
Was she still a someone who had someone’s or had they stolen that from her too?
“I can’t remember,” she murmured, and the female cop—her name was Ryan, or at least her last name was, her name tag said so—shifted closer.
“Have you been in an accident?”
“I think it was planned very carefully,” she answered absently, and Ryan shot a look towards Roberts and Smith.
“What was?”
“All of it.”
She was cold. She had forgotten what cold felt like. She liked it. Her fingers shook.
She tugged on the ends of them, but they didn’t stop.
Ryan shifted.
“Is there anything you can tell us?”
The clock ticked and the lights flickered and her spine tingled and she was pretty sure they were all related.
Had things ever not been?
“I don’t want to go back,” she breathed, and it was a promise and a secret and an oath.
The cops didn’t know what to do with those, so they blew away like dandelion seeds.
It was nice being around people who didn’t understand true currency.
“Did someone take you?”
“Yes.”
Ryan reached a hand out. “Let’s get you some dry clothes, and check on those cuts of yours, yeah?”
She didn’t move. Her hair dripped onto the floor.
Ryan wavered slightly.
The clock stopped. Her spine cramped. The lights flickered.
Connections. So many connections.
She wanted their help but nothing came without a cost—what would bandages be worth? What would a blanket be?
The lights shut off, and she knew it didn’t matter anymore.
When they turned on again, the fae was there. Her teeth hurt with the sugar sweetness of it.
The air smelled like jasmine.
“Hello, officers,” the fae smiled. They wrapped an arm around her, so gentle. They had never bruised or bloodied her, though.
Just broken her. So broken. Like a doll.
Ryan startled.
“Sir—“
“I’m terribly sorry to have bothered you. Our car broke down just up the road, and she got in a bad accident when she was young. I thought she was fine, but the next moment—“ they waved their hand, as if encompassing the whole of her shaking wet body and bleeding skin.
Ryan relaxed slightly.
“We have an ambulance on the way, we can get you some blankets while you wait—“
“That won’t be necessary,” the fae said, and she could hear the sharks teeth and bite. “It was just a flat. All fixed now. I can take care of her myself.”
Something flickered in Ryan’s eyes, something flickered in all three cops eyes.
The fae guided her towards the door, bearing most of her weight as she stumbled, and Ryan grabbed her other arm.
“Sir, I really don’t think you should leave,” Ryan began.
Her eyes said please and her mouth said wait.
She felt the exact moment when the fae decided to kill them.
One moment, nothing, the stagnant kind of nothing in which nothing of importance is happening.
The next, the bloody kind of nothing.
Robert and Smith’s bodies hit the ground with a wet sort of thud.
When Ryan fell, she slid down the side of her body. She stared at her absently.
There was more blood on her dress now.
She couldn’t remember if the fae would be pleased by this.
The fae moved to the computer, a single touch causing it to fritz. They turned to her with a smile.
“Now, love, that wasn’t very nice of you.”
She didn’t know if they were referring to her running away or her seeking help or her stabbing them.
She laughed, and her throat burned.
“Which part.”
The fae’s eyes flickered, but they didn’t move closer.
The world fritzed like the computer for a moment. Her lungs hurt. Her hand clenched on plastic and regret.
“You belong to me,” they reminded her.
She jerked her head, just once.
“No.”
The fae stepped forward.
“I have your name—“
“Don‘t.”
The fae stopped, then, and appraised her.
The smiled returned, and it was a ravenous thing.
“Oh, love, I should have known.”
She took a step back.
“Known what?”
Her hands were slippery.
The fae tipped their head.
“That much compulsion, so fast, for that long?” They paused, amused. “It changes you. Tell me, can you even remember why your hair is wet?”
She looked down, surprised. When had she gotten wet?
The fae laughed, just too far on this side of delighted.
“It’s raining,” the fae supplied. When they took a step forward, she didn’t move. “Your mind is like a shattered mirror. You’re halfway between realms. Not quite a thing of humans, not quite a thing of fae. Don’t worry, I can fix it.”
“I don’t want you to.”
The fae paused.
“I don’t want to go back.”
They tutted. “I’ll admit, I never meant for it to get this bad, but I can make it stop hurting,” they soothed. “Wouldn’t you like that?”
“I’m fine—“
“You’re slipping. You have to be able to see that. Let me fix it. That smart mouth, that wicked mind of yours is breaking.”
“Then I’ll keep breaking until there’s nothing left,” she spat, and for a moment, she remembered.
Cartology. She really hated it.
Fucking Janice.
The fae took a step closer.
“You took me.”
The fae simply nodded. “How could I not.”
“You had to know I would never stay.”
The fae turned grim.
“You will. I’ll make sure of it.”
She laughed.
“I got away, didn’t I?”
“An oversight.”
“You just killed three people.”
“They would have kept you.”
“You would keep me, too,” she said over the drip of her blood onto the floor.
The fae shifted on the balls of their feet.
The sound of an ambulance drew closer.
“Humans, they don’t deserve something like you. You aren’t like them. You’re halfway between the realms. I didn’t mean to break you, but you came out so much stronger, can’t you see? Not quite human but not quite fae,” they looked at her with reverence. “You’re exquisite.”
“I am neither human nor fae. But I am still not yours.”
The fae twitched like they wanted to erase her words from memory.
“They cannot love you like I can.”
She laughed again, and it was sharp. It felt like her. This newer, shiny edged metal of her. It felt like the thrill of perfection and the adrenaline of free fall. Like power and love and mortality and the immortal in one. The clock began to tick. The lights steadied.
Neither human or fae, but both.
“No,” she ceded. “They can love me better.”
And then she raised Ryan’s gun, slippery with water and blood, and fired a single shot.
I don’t know how I feel about this but I refuse to proof read. Maybe I will at two am. Spontaneity, am I right?
A thank you to @hojo76 for saying he had no idea how I should continue this, which was super helpful considering I gave him two options and he chose neither, which was NOT an option. Don’t worry, you guys got the good option, it just had to stew for a couple weeks.
And because you asked to be tagged, my lovely reader, @d-cs
Legend, dir. Ridley Scott, 1985
“Folks will brag about the agility of a squirrel or the speed of a rabbit, but for reliability you really can’t beat a chicken.” - - Inktober 5: Chicken So far I’ve been doing ambiguously (or not so ambiguously) malevolent fairies, so I wanted to draw a friendlier one for this prompt #inktober2018 #inktober #inktober5 #ink #artistsoninstagram #art #myart #traditionalart #illustration #drawing #fairy #fairies #faeries #fairfolk #characterconcept #characterdesign #watercolor https://www.instagram.com/p/BomxqPBBC04/?utm_source=ig_tumblr_share&igshid=1q94k95rd7bfo
Inktober 7: Exhausted Fittingly, I’m too tired to come up with a caption for this one - #inktober #inktober2018 #ink #drawing #illustration #watercolor #faeries #fairy #fairies #fairfolk #fantasy #characterconcept #characterdesign #hibernation https://www.instagram.com/p/BosT1e4hraM/?utm_source=ig_tumblr_share&igshid=1oc5oe8jj4a9v
“They’re like us, I think, they’re just far away and move real slow. But when you look up at them in the sky, and us near the ground, we look the same.” - - Inktober 8: Star Thinking about what pixie mythology would be like - - #inktober #inktober2018 #ink #art #myart #artistsoninstagram #traditionalart #illustration #drawing #watercolor #characterconcept #characterdesign #faeries #fairies #fairy #fairfolk #microfiction https://www.instagram.com/p/Boz2QB6hDBl/?utm_source=ig_tumblr_share&igshid=y6tuam8cy7fe
“What is this thing?” “No idea. Wolf, maybe? Weird-looking fox?” “I love it.” “I do, too.” “I’m keeping it.” - Inktober 9: Precious When you’re basically a force of nature that will live for countless eons, it’s quite a surprise when someone just … straight up breeds a new animal. (I might shade this later, or I might just leave it as lineart) - - #inktober #inktober2018 #ink #artistsoninstagram #art #myart #traditionalart #illustration #faeries #fairytale #fairfolk #fairies #fairy https://www.instagram.com/p/Bo0IVSjhYgg/?utm_source=ig_tumblr_share&igshid=1sq8ramor52ou
Faeries
How to tell if a faerie is near by:
Feeling a warm tingles across your skin.
Things go missing and then reappear somewhere else in your home.
You see things out of the corner of your eyes.
Finding yourself participating in child like activities like skipping or swinging on a swing set.
You come across random floral scented breezes.
You make a habit of bringing nature inside.
You find yourself admiring insects and when you find one in your home you set it free instead of squishing it.
You find yourself stumbling over faerie circles.
You are followed by a crow or raven.
You hear mysterious giggling.
You find large patches of four-leaf clovers.
Offerings for the fae:
Milk and Honey
Anything small and shiny
Rings
Beads
Rocks
Crystals
Cream
Sweets
Cakes and Cookies.
Clean water
Some Favorite Faerie Rocks:
Tigers eyes
Peridot
Jade
Volcanic Rock
Fluorite
Emerald
Plants that attract faeries:
Common yarrow
New York aster
Shasta daisy
Western giant hyssop or horsemint
French lavender
Rosemary
Thyme
Fountain butterfly bush
Orange-eye butterfly bush
Summer lilac
Shrubby cinquefoil
Common garden petunia
Verbenas
Pincushion flowers
Cosmos
Common zinnia
Foxgloves
Pansies
Clover
Toadstools
Bluebells
Rowan
Oak
Alder
Willow
Birch
Apple trees
Sources: earthenergyhealing.com, mysticfamiliar.com, and earthwitchery.com.
==Moonlight Mystics==
JuneFae #1 - Bubble Faerie
Welp! Knocked that one out of the park if I do say so myself. XD; Eh... well anyways JuneFae #1 is done! I just... really like the faerie aesthetic so this monthly challenge was perfect. So refreshing after a hard day at work too. =w=; Ahhh... Couldn’t have asked for a better monthly challenge! I had just been thinking today ‘man, I missed Mermay pretty much because of my job, I wonder if tumblr or somewhere’s got a monthly challenge for June? Well, make one somebody! Maybe I’ll go google searching for it when I get home...’ Didn’t have to look further than my dash though, woo! Came when I wasn’t even expecting it. XD; Didn’t even go looking for it and there it was! Aaaaah this is gonna be great. XD; I may or may not go in order but I LOVE FAERIES so I’m excited to draw more of them! XD;
Join the forest fairy dance! 🧚♀️✨️
Finally finished my banner!! Fairies have always been my favourite thing to draw so it was nice to return to my roots 😊
