I Love Fae - Tumblr Posts

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.

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