True Tales from a Lucky Life

The world speaks our name but we cannot recall. He/him/his. Faekin blog. The west wind is a dear friend of ours.

[lofeel]

[clover-of-the-valley]

Hello! I am looking for some blogs to follow! I am a new blog and I have no idea where to start. So please like/reblog/comment in some way so that I can find blogs to follow. If you are (and your blog contians)

Waterkin (fresh water) Sealkin Forestkin Faekin Let me know so I can follow!

[glitterandmoss]

I'm so tired of people knowing me. I just want to disappear into the forest and have people tell tales of me, or even wonder if I ever existed. Maybe I was always just a myth, an imaginary friend, a figment of their imagination.

[fourleaveshavewe]

I have the opposite feeling, but I understand. We were known, once. We were revered. We were more than just a tall tale, a fiction. We were respected, believed in. Now, people look at me and they don’t really see me. They don’t see me as I am, but for the shell I exist in. I miss being known.

[neature-walk]

[fourleaveshavewe]

The relationship you and I have could be considered amicably cordial at best. You heap praises upon my work (“You’re brilliant, always a delight to have you in class,”) and allow for my self-extended deadlines (“Only a tyrant would take points off work submitted a few hours late,”). This is all we can have, and I know it has remained as such because you are married and maintain a position of power. We are philosophers, and so well aware of the moral shortcomings of such a situation. So I enthusiastically engage in your lectures, and you sing me praise and return my emails readily. This is all we can have.

But there are times I wonder. If we had met under different circumstances, if you were unattached; where would that leave us? How easy would it be to let the boundaries stretch a bit more, to blur the lines? How easy would it be to get you to look longer, stand closer, seek my counsel? Too easy, I think. You are, after all, human; and humans have ever been drawn to that which piques their curiousity. I wonder, do you lean back against your desk like that on purpose? Do you see me looking? Does it excite you, in that twisted way that you won’t let yourself think about with anyone else in the house? I will admit behind the screen of anonymity that the idea of seducing you is one I enjoy. One I would never act on, because I respect you and your happiness, and nothing good comes from such things in the long run.

This is all we can have; but I wonder.

[fourleaveshavewe]

Poem to a Human Who Tried to Break Our Heart

The fae are not a fragile thing,

we endure what the weather brings.

Hate is borne on wings of love,

and love has never been enough;

to bind a fae that wishes to fly,

I will say, you gave a valiant try

but the hubris of man is nothing to mine.

You cannot guilt a fae to pity, or remorse.

But I do regret what I have done and pity you, of course.

Your loneliness is pitiful, though no true fault of mine;

and I never did intend to hurt you,

though I am now free to fly.

You cannot blame the fae for things

you brought upon yourself,

like casting off your lover

and then drinking off your health.

If ever you find regret for all that you have done,

I hope you’ve learned to love yourself

Because from the fae you will find none.

[labyrinthine-kin-wonders-blog]

I Heard

I heard they say you aren’t real, but that can’t be right. No, it can’t be, not when you’re standing right there, your invisible wings creating shadows on the wall and floor. The way your tail is swaying, your horns striking fear into the hearts of non-believers, your sad and deadly eyes daring them to disrespect you.

 I heard they’ve forgotten your once uttered prayers that you always answered. Back when the skies were pure and gods still walked among mortals, and they still dropped their heads in respect. They’ll respect you again some day, do not fret.

I heard they say you are imaginary, yet, here you are, smiling at me in a way that sets my heart aflame, and I can see that you’re dying to dance. You don’t want to be written playfully in children’s books and then forgotten. You still want to dance among the fallen leaves and sing songs that have been long forgotten.

  They have forgotten us, but they will, yes, they will remember us.

[faeishsuggestions]

A kiss, a smile, a whispered word. Your mouth is a weapon. Wield it without mercy.

[melancholy-of-an-angel]

please like/reblog (or message me) if you are

angelkin

demonkin

godkin

divinekin in general

mermaidkin

therian

ghostkin

kin

literally any kin

im new to the community and need some frens

[eternalgospel]

You are human now, and that’s okay. You’ve been given the gift of caring for a fragile body and protecting it. Embrace this.

[adventurecore-suggestions]

learning to identify wildflowers that bloom near my home feels like befriending them, like i’ve been admitted into an amiable new social circle. i greet them by name (winecup, dandelion, primrose, bluebonnet, prairie fire) and they nod as i pass, with a cheerfulness that more than makes up for their silence

[andymoss]

I’ve worked with a few people who do this as a way to connect with nature; learning the plants’ names and characteristics. They taught me which birds only live at the tops of the tallest trees, which trees smell like vanilla, and which flowers can be brewed into tea. Grab a field guide and learn your backyard. Highly recommend.

[fourleaveshavewe]

We reside in a world of concrete, and yet we superimpose the realms of fae over it simply by existing here. We have lured a man into our world. Where once he was in darkness, now there is light. Where once he felt doubt, there is now hope. Where once there was only the cold press of “reality” and walls and family ties that cut like too-tight rope, there is now magic. Safety. A home. There is no door that must be passed to reach the fae, other than the one that resides in the mind. After all, this land was once ours, when it was wild and the old songs drifted on the wind to each corner of the world and far beyond. The land remembers what it was, as do we.

The only separation between the world of humans and the fae is denial, and blindness. It is why it is so easy to stray, why fae circles are deemed gateways, because they force humans to see. That is why once you enter the fae, there is no return. Because it comes with you, wherever you go. Because the world we live in is the fae, painted over with a concrete mask. In the wild, quiet places of the world the truth is laid plain. Once you open that door in your mind, it cannot be closed. 

And if they could see as we do, if he could see where I have brought him in truth, perhaps they would all be glad, instead of wary. They need only fear the fae if they choose to be blind. The door cannot be closed. Try to push it shut, and it will push you back.

[faeandfree]

Remember dancing in the warmth of the summer moon, music flowing from nowhere into you limbs, animating them and bringing to life a new circle of song. Remember this while winter casts it’s icy shadow over your home, while the frigid air is biting but not unfamiliar. Remember as you greet spring with open arms while fresh sprouts push their way out of rich soil.

[pixie-pathways]

Beautiful fae, listening to our headphones too loud because the music makes us feel more alive than any other sound.

Pretty fae, who love the night, but can no longer roam it without fear in our weak mortal bodies

Dangerous fae, who bare our teeth in anger and feel something more deadly, something wilder, slip into our heads as the words we spit out drip with poison

Restless fae, we feel our wings flutter and shift in the wind but take no flight.

Sorrowful fae, longing for home and their old form, longing for magic to come as easy as breath once more

Many faeries would kill for the gift we’ve been given, this existence. It’s hard, I know. But we’re too magic to give into it.

Strong fae, we keep our heads up high and laugh in the face of this depressing world. We cannot be broken.

[keijuansa]

Hi all boy fae

You’re all super fucking cool. Even though ~~faerie aesthetic~~ shit usually means things that are traditionally girly stuff, identifying with the Fae doesn’t invalidate your masculinity. This includes you, transmen. Besides, what the hell is gender for the Fae anyway?

[faeandfree]

Dancing under the light of the full moon with the others, laughing, and singing as we play endlessly

[faeandfree]

People call us fiction, to them we’re a tall tale to tell, but in reality, we are woven in and out of time, still present, and I’m so happy that I’ve met with others like me in this lifetime.