CREATURE / FLICKERING UNDERNEATH THE SKIN

pretty creature; don't bring them home. they like to make homes in your bed & leave behind rotted flowers that make you lonely. private original character. as narrated by moon.

[knucklebark]

TRESPASSER !

disappointment as the creatures fall into silence.  wooden bodies on metal frames, plastique decorations that are half melted and mostly faded away with sickening corrosion.  how helpless and cheap they look without new life.  not toys for children.  not subjects for memories of all varied emotions – just broken down, useless scraps of junk formed by the hands of kine.  creatures who knew that what they made would one day be spit upon and abandoned.  their nostrils flare.  a deep breath in of magicks, a toxic conflagration far more intoxicating than bottles of rich soju hanging from loose fingertips.  ( YOU WOULD SINK INTO MADNESS IN AN ALLEYWAY WITH THIS NATURAL LIQUOR FROM HIS THROAT. )  curse, curse, curse.  seyoon’s teeth are behind curled lips that spill magma air, copper flavored.  artificial sugar edges along their fluttering tongue as they shake their head once.  

      “do it again.”  not a request, neither a command.  something uncertain.  “all of it.  do it again.”

their hands rub together as if in search for something warm.  ocean air pierces through the holes of clothing – loose, well worn.  two wraiths, one of mercury and belladonna striking.  monolithic consuming the air around him.  and they, they are the black hole opposite to a creature with fae blood gushing through those pretty veins.

❛   ━━━━   WHY SHOULD I?  ❜  soft, spoken by the voice of an Unseelie prince. of roasted almonds  &  dripping fruits. but their breath squeezes out from the throat, cut short by the piercing ocean air. the water wishes for the song again, clawing at the wood for it. the land behind the crumbling facade begins to whistle. the trees humming at the sound. their fingers itch for the magick, as if they had been full  &  painfully swollen with it. the fiery scent of it diluted by aging concrete, black with mold  &  the carcasses of the creatures who come there to die alone. it is a dangerous need, the taste of magick on their tongue. they sigh at being left without it.

their intruder smelled of something rabid, as squat fae do after a meal. a reminder of the sharp  &  dangerous fae that live in the sewers. except they were not fae. neither were they Blind, humans who lived their lives carelessly stumbling into faerie rings where they are feasted upon. the Blind were known to become enchanted by the sight of the horses, frothing for a kiss from the prince. they find their devotees had often died among the ruins of the woods looking for the beautiful man they were not sure was completely real. 

the breath is suddenly stolen by their mere presence, a suffocating trembling of wind to their oaken  &  rooted being. slender fingers curling into the open palm, the bark beneath screaming.  ❛   make it worth my while.   ❜ 

[knucklebark]

me, trying to write atm: The stars are not in position for this tribute!

[knucklebark]

WHITHER WANDER YOU?

━━━━━━  OVER HILL, OVER DALE, / THOROUGH BUSH, THOROUGH BRIER, / OVER PARK, OVER PALE, / THOROUGH FLOOD, THOROUGH FIRE, / I DO WANDER EVERYWHERE.  

A MODERN FAERIE ORIGINAL CHARACTER. WRITTEN BY MOON.

[socvka-deactivated20220103]

[knucklebark]

I. 14TH OF FEBRUARY 1842. THE BIRTH OF A PRINCE.

She had swallowed an acorn, the seedling squeezing down her throat to settle warmly in her belly. The Queen of the Unseelie Court had been without kin for so long, she missed having children to adore her. They had fallen at her feet and loved her unconditionally. ( Three Princesses and Two Princes fell to the power of the Queen’s love. ) When she was swollen with pregnancy, the entire Court celebrated the coming of new royalty. They had not had a Prince in far too long. The months toward the birth the Scottish highlands thrummed with excitement. Beneath the hills, the moon did not shine. Instead, the Unseelie Fae drank blood from goblets. Berries pressed between red teeth and red mouths. They spoke the Queen’s name as a prayer, a holy thing. They blessed her baby with offerings and sacrifices. A woman’s finger, a man’s ear -- his golden earring still attached. Fae with gossamer wings flittering around the Queen as her belly grew and the child inside glowed with the magick of the Fae. They braided tender flowers into her hair, already black with death. 

The baby was born screaming, high pitched and inconsolable. Angered they had come into the world with out wanting to. She named the baby Anwyl Apollo Arawn. The skin across their arms made from bark, tiny shins the same. It had been painful to birth such a creature, a face round with youth but beneath hid the terrifying angular bone structure of royalty. The Queen lovingly attempted to nurse the child. But even so, they still screamed. It was days before they stopped. Tree maidens brushing their fingers made of leaves gently across the screaming face. The Queen had given up on nursing, her attention brought back to the Fae who wrecked havoc upon the Blind. The baby fed from honeysuckle and the honeyed wine gifted by the Seelie Queen upon their birth. A Prince, at last. Quietly bundled in their mother’s arms when they were brought from their tiny room. Their name etched in their acorn heart, the Queen shushing them with lullabies. 

[knucklebark]

tells nothing, feels everything: Cancer, Virgo, Scorpio, Pisces

tells everything, feels nothing: Gemini, Sagittarius

tells nothing, feels nothing: Capricorn, Aquarius

tells everything, feels everything: Taurus, Leo, Aries, Libra

[knucklebark]

>_>

[knucklebark]

i’m gonna be writing some of apollo’s history/arcs today or soonish. how they were born, how them and their court came to settle in the ugly urban area of new jersey. :) and sort of how i want his story to progress. i wanted to write bigger canons on the unseelie & seelie courts. once i kinda set up that lore i’ll feel better about myself. qwoieruwoe.

[knucklebark]

i need to do some world building and/or more info on apollo themselves but im tired and i wanna play video games. i also have no idea where to flipping start. i wanted to write more on how they look without glamour but also more on the magick. BUT ALSO WHY THE FEY DONT LIVE UNDER THE HILL ANYMORE. UUUUUGH.

[dailyreeceking]

@reeceking_: 24/7 movie

[knucklebark]

MONGREL !

❝ my apologies; ❞    

             be it that the place is a horror show worse than the TWO of them, he means what he says. his hands curl together, ragged fingernails and ruined manicure smudged a dark red like his swollen lips. and never-mind the ache in the ABYSS of his heart because of it ( what a SINNER, a study in gore and regret, standing statuesque, waiting for –     permission ); his smile is genuine, bloody teeth flashing briefly.  ❝ i could think of NOWHERE ELSE to go. ❞    

❛   ━━━━   DID YOU HAPPEN TO EAT ANYBODY?   ❜   morbid curiosity paints the color of their lips. delicate legs folding underneath them as the thin mattress dips dangerously close to the floor. slender fingers wave, the movement of his knuckles seemingly unearthly. they motion to a decaying lawn chair.   ❛   i’m honored you would think of me. my mother would be elated to know i have such a creature of darkness at my disposal.  ❜  it is said with pressed together lips, head pressed to the concrete wall.

[knucklebark]

A HUNGRY BOY !

    “—- nah, I mean. Call me what you want.” truthfully, peter didn’t mind the moniker as much as others might … or perhaps even as much as would be expected of him. it was better than puny parker or that insufferable web-crawler, so that’s a plus in his mind. his eyes travel down to the other male’s palm, then back up again, settling just past him. “So, what d’I call you? Somehow, I think ‘guy in the forest where nobody travels except for apparently me’ is a bit too long.” he quips. 

the forest had always meant comfort. blackened lungs gulping the clear air through a greedy mouth. baubles made from pinecones  &  the pits of cherries hidden in the many folds of their clothing warm at being so close to home. they had been charmed with the magick of tree people, sacrificing their children to the Unseelie prince for the affection of royalty. they were not aware the prince had not lived beneath the hill for decades.  ❛    ━━━━   IF YOU CAN GUESS MY NAME I’LL GIVE YOU A PRESENT.   ❜   typical faerie mischief, indulged only when they were particularly interested.

[knucklebark]

WHITHER WANDER YOU?

━━━━━━  OVER HILL, OVER DALE, / THOROUGH BUSH, THOROUGH BRIER, / OVER PARK, OVER PALE, / THOROUGH FLOOD, THOROUGH FIRE, / I DO WANDER EVERYWHERE.  

A MODERN FAERIE ORIGINAL CHARACTER. WRITTEN BY MOON.

[knucklebark]

i love you.

❛   ━━━━   THAT’S ONLY THE CHERRY WINE TALKIN’.   ❜  those words are cheap, bought with glamoured leaves found in the gutter.  ❛   you’ve definitely drunk too much.   ❜

[notpano-deactivated20170912]

[knucklebark]

❛   ━━━━   DON’T GET BLOOD ON THE CARPET.   ❜   there’s a moment of hesitation, laughter bubbling up their throat. the room is barren, smelling of mold. the concrete behind the wallpaper exposed. it is their private estate  /  their palace  /  castle ‘pon the hill. a stained bathmat just at the foot of the bed had been the extent of their carpeting. the floor is hard underneath their feet.  ❛   just keep your hands to yourself, actually.  you reek of human and the little ones will creep from the woodwork to lick your fingers.  ❜  /  @chxsseur

[knucklebark]

TRESPASSER !

kine create and abandon cascading monuments to their materialistic obsessions.  small buildings meant to mimic a bygone era formed out of cheap plywood, lead paint, chipped and cracking where many bend in upon themselves.  the weight of termites, the kiss of rot, both are unavoidable where sea water can endlessly weather these fake townships.  seyoon scents old oil drip, drip, dropping from abandoned sources of escapades.  broken down horses – far behind them a wind swinging wheel that holds metallic seats like rusting carcasses.  their nostrils flare as they crunch old wood with broken nails beneath a boot heel.  

before them, a shadowed silhouette.  fluttering fingers as he speaks in rough tongues – watching lights shudder into life before them both.  seyoon slips to a halt some feet away.  cheap music, horn choked and unfamiliar almost swallows the sound of horses writhing into artificial life.  there is magic here.  heavily scented until they feel drunk with it, coating the thick of their throat and hazing their sclera.  

seyoon drags closer until inches part them.  an ink blot shadow to this unknown being.

      “how?”

the smell of iron hidden deep beneath the wood, steel bars groaning from the weight of man’s jagged creation. they remember a time when the ocean had been able to caress its lover unhindered. songs sung to the land by the fluid motion of waves, climbing the slope of sand to kiss her. iron choked the junction, unaware how its presence had marred the beauty of the land. apollo had returned to the carousel for comfort, the ocean appeased by the song  &  the land contented that her beloved had been soothed. they hear the waves, climbing the beams of ugly wood impaling the shelf of sand. the animals stand at the call, many of them missing legs struggle to balance on ruined stumps. shivering underneath the weight of newfound muscle. they were beautiful once, the man who created them had been fey kissed. driven insane by their kind. 

the presence of another brings something sharp down their spine, cooling the magma vertebra. a foot slips on the crunch of glass, the illusion lost. ❛   ━━━━   SHIT, SHIT. . . SHIT.  ❜   the horses give one last whine before it falls silent. the feeling of it ancient, the silence situated between two elements. their breath fogs the air, dancing fey in the white curl of their breath. an unbreakable habit, they exhaled magick.  

                        ❛   what did you see?   ❜