#fae world

[knight--error]

i walk into the fae world but the only plastic i have on me is the polymer grip of my Glock-19. what now, crow boy.

[maureen2musings]

The winter forest

daniel_weissenhorn

[aboutiroh]

I leave tumblr for a week and return to a dangerous crow boy whose job it is to destroy plastic?? I don’t know why he’s considered dangerous but I suggest we just put him in an ocean. He’ll have enough work until we figure something out with the faes

[thebat-musicman]

to all my mutuals: im sorry about all the dangerous crow boy posting. i am never going to stop.

[dark-scape]

so is the dangerous crow boy like the janitor of the fae world?

[pliff1975]

14 September 2024

Made with ArtRage

[onoma69]

Bitchy Brewery

Prologue:

“Order ready for Malenia!”

The aroma of magic permeates the air as the hustle and bustle of fae pass by the counter. The cafe is well into the work day as they call out once again in a teasing yet frustrated voice, “I said, order ready for Malenia!” 

A tall redheaded faerie in golden jewelry finally approaches and grabs their coffee after another minute, not without a final scowl from their aasimar barista. Walking back to the brewing station, Nerys reluctantly got to work on the next order. Gods, what was it with people and their complex orders? What does it even mean to have a latte with no foam? How ignorant are these people? It’s bad enough that the last order had like, three extra shots of espresso, and now they have to manage a latte with no foam somehow? 

Virgil snorts loudly. “I swear to the stars, half of the people here are deaf.”

“You don’t have to tell me twice,” Nerys grumbles, as they reluctantly prepare the materials for the insane coffee order. “Look at this asinine order I just got. No foam? What, do you want me to just put plain milk or some shit? That takes all the latte out of a latte! Nowadays brains seem to be a rare commodity…”

A couple of people waiting in line glare at the pair. The next customer warily approaches the counter, internally praying that they can avoid a conversation with either of the duo.

Much to their consolation, the only well-behaved employee of the shift finally steps up to the register and smiles. “Hello and welcome to Miran’s Morning Brew! What can we make for you today? Would you like to try our seasonal special?” Farrah, being the odd one out of the staff by actually having a sense of decency and propriety, knows about the habits of the cafe’s “disaster duo”. She tries to cover for them and their behavior as much as she can but alas, kind excuses can only help so much when the pair you're trying to help are complete assholes and make it everyone else’s problem. 

The customer squints at the menu behind her. “Uhh, can I have uhhh, hold on, uhhhh-”

“Hurry the fuck up! You should’ve read the menu while you were standing in line dipshit,” Virgil shoots from over by the espresso machine. “People don’t wanna wait on your blind ass!”

Nerys, trying to maintain a somewhat elegant composure, struggles for their life to hold back giggling at the oh-so-clever quip their coworker decided to drop.

The customer blinks in slight shock before turning back to Farrah, who smiles awkwardly.

“Please excuse them, they’re both just having an… off day… Take your time with your order, no pressure!” says the cafe’s resident blessing from Mielikki. As the senile old fae finally puts in his order for a simple slice of banana bread and an oat milk mocha,  Farrah quickly rings him up and gives him back his change. 

“An off day? Please, you speak so poorly of us dear Farrah, we’re just being honest! Don’t people here usually say that that’s the best quality? Or am I mistaken, darling?” A coy smile creeps onto Nerys’ face as the satyr turns from the register to help out with the remaining orders.

“And I’m nothing if not honest,” Virgil adds, a wide, shit-eating grin spreading across their face. 

“When will the both of you learn that this job kind of requires decent customer service? I can’t even begin to count how many times I’ve saved both of you from Miran’s wrath. Why, just yesterday I had to convince her to not cut your pay for your little salt shenanigans… again. I feel like your babysitter every time I’m on shift with you, let alone when you're together like today.”

Virgil tilts their head lazily, leaning on the counter. “Cut our pay to what, exactly? You’re talking like we’re not getting paid minimum wage already,” they snicker.

Whatever they were going to say next was cut off when the milk steamer screeches as Nerys finishes up the last of their order, the aasimar quickly and gracefully packages up the latte (with foam since they couldn’t be bothered to figure out what “no foam” meant)  and two croissants in their eco-friendly packaging before taking it to the avian pick-up section of the cafe. As they find the bird with the matching order on their collar, they haphazardly toss the croissant bag without looking as to where the bag lands. 

“Hey! Watch where you're tossing those things, will ya?” A tiny yet commanding voice comes from the miniature portion of the cafe meant for smaller races and species.

Roseabell, the cafe’s only pixie employee, huffs at Nerys, fruitlessly awaiting anything that could possibly be interpreted as an apology. The miniature brunette resides in the middle on the Miran’s Morning Brew staff likeability scale. Somewhat standoffish, and somewhat kind-spirited, she’s typically the one to stand up to the disaster duo and knock them back down to size. Despite her small stature, she is a threat to one’s eardrums if aggravated. 

Nerys waves their hand dismissively. “Dear Roseabell, how many times must I explain it to you? You are small. Therefore, more challenging to see and keep an eye on, especially when you're flying around and not confined to one area. So please, cut us regular-sized beings some slack when we’re tired after another arduous day of being prisoners to magic capitalism and being forced to work, much less serve the masses.” The air quotes around the last phrase are audible in the dramatic sigh of their voice.

“Oh please, you’d be glad to get rid of me,” Roseabell huffs. “I’m the only one here with the guts to tell off you and your little partner-from-hell over there.”

Virgil flutters their lashes innocently, but the way their tail swishes behind them promises mischief.

Rolling her eyes, Roseabell continues, “Gods above know I’d love to actually be able to experience peace at work for once.” Reaching a break in her workload, she flits up to their eye level. The smaller section of the cafe usually ran a lot less busy than the rest of the building.

Without acknowledging her, the aasimar double-checks the dove and its cargo before releasing it out the window back to the customer who had the comfort and the money to order from home. Oh, how they envied those who could afford to pay for such a service regularly. Making ends meet at the time was more of a struggle than they would ever let anyone aside from Virgil know. Rent for their relatively shitty apartment was creeping up on them and they loathed being behind on payments and the concept of owing people made a cold shiver run down their spine. Mr. Sylvan was quite the penny pincher when it came to rent too, always trying to extort them and overpricing everything. It’s all thanks to their silver tongue and habit of being petty to another degree that kept their rent hundreds below what the gnome tried to get out of them. Granted, that hundred was well within the normal rent rate for their little area.

The rest of the day went without much difficulty. The disaster duo causing their usual amount of mayhem and Farrah having to deal with the repercussions of their combined lack of behavior. Luckily Nerys and Virgil didn’t have the night shift, so they left and started their commute back home. 

“I don’t know about you but I am not making dinner after that abysmal shift…” Nerys whined. 

“Me neither, I’ve been making dinner for the past couple of days now, so I refuse to make anymore. I’m probably gonna order take-out from the nearby sushi place for myself. Unless you want to hunt and scavenge the fridge I suggest you do the same if you don’t want to starve tonight.” Virgil teased. 

Nerys threw their head back in a fake tantrum, “Ugh, you’re such a bitch. Oh, but that woman over there is even more of a bitch if she decided to wear that out. Stripes in this day and age? And with jeans no less? Please, it looks so last decade that I want to rip my eyes out. Doesn’t anyone care about their appearance? I swear it’s like I’m the only one with a proper eye for fashion around these parts.” 

Virgil took an interest in the horrid fashion choices of the public and turned their eye to the other side of the street, eager to indulge in one of their favorite pastimes—being petty and judging people. “Those glasses aren’t helping her case either, completely unflattering on her face shape. I would have gone with a pair of pleated pants and loafers and that’s if I was either rushed or lazy. Alas, what can you do.” They shrugged. “It’s not her fault some people are simply blessed with a perfect face and figure and an impeccable sense of style… a.k.a, me.” They gestured airily to their face, a smug expression gracing it.

Nerys scoffs in utter disbelief, “Oh please, we all know that my face is the one on the cover of numerous high fashion magazines. You couldn’t even model if you wanted to. Even if you did, I’m not helping no matter how much you begged and pleaded on your knees where you belong.”

“Oh dear me! Whatever shall I do?” They dramatically press the back of their hand to their forehead before a sly look overtakes their face. “I’m most definitely not the one who got kicked out, and was forced to fumble around figuring out how the middle class survives in today’s day and age!” They place their hands on their cheeks with a theatrical ‘shocked’ expression. “Stars! It's almost like the silver spoon had been ripped right out of my slutty little mouth and taken away… along with the platter of upper-class privilege that my maids, nannies and butlers used to serve me every moment of every day!” Virgil lamented in the most mocking tone they could muster. They raised an eyebrow. “Oh wait… that was you.” Despite their sharp words, the snicker that followed somehow ended up landing closer to teasing than malicious.

“Oh you wish you could experience what this mouth can do, love~” Nerys said with a look of wickedness in their eyes. 

A silence overtook them. For a moment, they both stood staring at each other, tensely waiting for the other's reaction. Then, both of them burst out laughing, Nerys’s light cackle mixing with Virgil’s snorting giggles. After a minute, the laughter faded off, leaving both of them standing there out of breath with grins on their faces. As they continued down the sidewalk, the city started to come alive with twinkling, warm light. The silhouettes of towering office buildings were visible through the autumn mist. Faint, hazy illusions promoting their products and services glowed through the fog. The sidewalk was lined with quaint homes of carved wood, weathered brick, and cobblestone. As the pair approached their little apartment building, Nerys stared at it. It wasn’t much, but it was enough to provide what they needed. It was cozy, and most importantly—alive. Nerys’s eyes darted away from the building as they briefly glanced at their companion who was making some silly comment or another, a bright smile on their face. Maybe this would work out after all.

[the-broken-pen]

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.