#half-fae

[mrvviz]

Another dnd comm 👀 got to work on the design and the character sheet for this one.

[twincovesgame]

How longs does it take for a half-fairie half-human child to become a adult?

They age just like humans do until their early 20’s.

[multifru196]

Bryce Quinlan from Crescent City trilogy by Sarah J. Maas

[castleofcarlyle]

Helen Blackthorn 💙

Omg, I just lovee Helen soo much, I couldn’t help myself.

Okay....., so I’ll probably do an Aline Penhallow mood board ASAP. But don’t judge me okay? I’m still a school girl having an extremely giant-size mountain of homework waiting for me.

This awesome girl belongs to - @cassandraclare​ 

[spaceokase]

Drew Nera for the first time in forever(aside from some sketches) and it’s... this

...

It’s what she would want, really

[hemlockbaycryptid]

Species Reveal!

Though some differing species can copopulate, that does not mean for the vast majority that the offspring can inherit abilities from both parties. They will always have to be one or the other parental pairing's species/abilities. The only exceptions are those rare hybrids who come about in the world. They have a mix of both parents.

Hybrids are one of the rarer types of species within our world, and as such it is one of the purchasable items from the store to create. Don't worry, we don't make it impossible, just something of a reward when you save enough to get! These hybrid species can include anything from half-fae, nephalem (angel & demon hybrid), nephilim (half angel offspring), dragonborn (half dragon offspring), or more!

[parcae-nervi]

addiction

Jones has always been a good detective. He is now the best detective New York has at its disposal, and boy does New York run him ragged. His wife Lucy tells him she's worried about him, her sweet petulant lips form the sentences "It's a problem now, Mo," and "Mo, please, you need rehab." Everyone calls him Mo because on his first huge break on his first huge case, his boss said, "Jones, Jones, Jones, we ought to start calling you Osmosis Jones, 'cause you're almost as good as that damn cartoon character," but Osmosis took too long to say so most people just went with Mo.

Now the department is tightening up. Jones stares at the piece of paper haphazardly taped to his office door. "ALL MAGICAL ENHANCEMENTS, INCLUDING BUT NOT LIMITED TO: ENCHANTMENTS, POTIONS, CHARMS, AND STONES ARE PROHIBITED FROM USE BY ALL NYPD OFFICIALS." Jones thinks that maybe he's in a dream or that maybe Lucy snuck into his office last night after Jones had fallen asleep and maybe she'd cried as she placed this sign on his door, but no, his boss is squeezing his shoulder and laughing, saying, "Not gonna be a problem around here, though."

"Why are they enforcing this?" Jones asks casually and takes down the paper because it is making him anxious. 

His boss says, "Had enough trouble. The people that use 'em, they get hooked. Sure, they're helpful, but we need to do our jobs sober, you know? I don't know, Mo." 

Jones nods like he understands, but he's not really hearing what his boss is saying because there is a din in his ears. His boss doesn't notice and moves on to go talk to someone else and Jones slips into his office, sits in his seat, and rifles through some folders in his drawers until he finds the piece of paper that he needs. 

There are just a few sentences on the page and Jones reads them to himself. He can do this. He used to be great. The stones made him great, make him great, but he can do it sober. No, no, he can't. He tried a few times recently. Failed. Failure. He's a failure. He needs the stones, the enchantments. More than that, he wants them. He wants to feel like he’s good at his job and they do that. They really, really do.

He wants to feel the magic slick over his skin. He wants his vision heightened, his hearing capabilites maxed. He wants his intuition increased and his ability to discern lies from truth to come easy. He pulls out his cell phone and texts one of his contacts. He reaches for another folder and opens up the case. He deliberates. His phone buzzes. He bites his lip and ignores it.

"One shot. One try. I can do the interrogation without it. I can do it."

Twenty minutes later Jones is in an interrogation room talking to a half-fae. "There was an incident the other night at a night club in Manhattan, the Witching Hour. We have record of you at the night of the incident. Were you on any forms of synthetic magic hallucinogenic, otherwise known as SMH?" She raises a knobby finger to her cheek and scratches her skin and Jones stares at her with hard eyes.  

"I-I was. There were a few people there, dealing. It's a hotspot," she says and her sharpened teeth flash. She shrinks back in her seat. "I don't know anymore, honest. I was too fucked up. I-I didn't see it."

"It?" Jones repeats. He has his hook. She's scared, leaning back. He is feeling this moment. He knows where this is going. His confidence leaps. "It's okay," he says. "The more you tell us, the more we can help you." 

Her face twists and her eyes glow red and Jones knows he's made a mistake. A stupid fucking mistake. If he had a fae stone, he wouldn't be here right now. "If you want to help me, get these fucking iron handcuffs off of me. This is inhumane. I don't know anything about what happened. I just know something did." 

Jones tries to get her back, but her fae side is angry and it's no use. He slams his hand against the only table in the room and leaves abruptly. He pulls out his cell phone. 

Thirty minutes later he is inside a building he knows all too well. He is talking to Moro, a strange young girl with red eyes and bright blue hair. She hands him the stones he requested over their text conversation and she looks at him with her strange red eyes and says, "You can stop, you know. I know you're a good detective, Jones." 

She doesn't call him Mo because she doesn't really know him that well.

He is back in the interrogation room with the half-fae and she glares at him with her angry eyes. Her teeth are still sharp, but Jones knows just what to say. "Look, dozens of other witnesses gave us your name. They said you know who the dealers are. We have reasoning to believe the same people are responsible for what happened." He reaches forward and with nimble fingers, removes her handcuffs. There are bright red marks on both of her wrists. "I'm not supposed to do this, but I know you want to talk. You're scared, but I promise I'm only here to help. If you don't talk, we might find someone else with a different story, someone that might have evidence against you." It's lies he's feeding her, but it's the right lies. His perception is insane right now and he can see the slight tightening of her pupil, the twinge in her fingers. She is scared and he has his bait. He dangles the hook: "There's iron in fae cells. We can keep you out of there. You're half fae. I can help you." 

She takes a deep breath and he already knows he has her. When she opens her mouth, her teeth are dull and square.

He comes back down while in his office. The stone is a lump in his pocket; all its magical properties were pulled from it. The magic leaves his skin in a rush and he is suddenly dizzy, tired. He stumbles to his office chair and just breathes. His head hurts. It pounds. His skin feels like electricity has been sizzling over him all day. 

He picks up his phone and thumbs through his contacts. He stares at a single name and finds the courage to dial. "Mo? Babe? Everything alright?" Her voice is breathless and he smiles to himself. 

"I'm okay. Look, I think I can do it," he says. "I can do it without the stones. I can try. I can try for you." 

Lucy sighs on the other end of the phone. 

His boss opens up the door to his office and slaps a thick folder down on Jones' desk. "Great job on that last case, Mo! We're working on finding more leads on those SMH dealers. In the meanwhile, thought you might want to tackle this one. Supposed serial killer. We've had a few disappearances from students in high school, found their fucking bones in central park. We think some type of water spirit might be involved."

Jones gives his boss a tight-lipped smile. "Crazy world we live in, isn't it?" 

His boss agrees whole-heartedly and closes the door. 

Jones opens the file. He feels a spark, a tug, a yearning, as he looks over the papers. It's all a roadmap that he can piece it together if he just has the right touch of something more. He picks up his phone. He swallows. His thumb presses the call button.

One. Two. Three rings. 

"I promise," Jones says to Lucy. Then he hangs up.