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hm,, i really wanna write another like whole actual story with fae again but a whole different kind. like folklore type ones that are dangerous to give your name to and love to be mischievous and pranking and whatnot. but im extremely uneducated on them as a whole and everywhere im looking things up im just kinda getting garbage. i wanna know the actual origins of these things/tales/rumours and like other details about them but i have NO idea where to look

anybody got any sources?

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Monstertober day 24 - Fungi + Curious

some funny little Semi-Fae fellas. they use a material form like Dryad, manipulating the form of fruiting fungi into something very small and adorable. because the actual mushroom body is a temporary one to spread spores, these forms don’t last very long, and once the mushroom begins to rot the Fae must leave it and go back to living in mycelium until it finds a young mushroom to adopt. they are very inquisitive and love watching the world go by.

in late fall, hundreds will come together into rings and celebrate in the night in an event where they will use their energy stores to create new fae. although usually leaving their mushroom forms in the ring formation until the fungi itself dies as normal, some villages near dense populations of these Fae instead have the creatures march in and abandon their forms there, allowing the people to make use of the mushrooms instead. this is most commonly seen in predominantly goblin villages.

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Lyria is a daughter of the sea. Spending her days wandering by the waves, she finds treasures from wrecked ships that wash up on the rocky cliffs she calls home. She longs for a life on the ocean, a proper pirate like her mother, but never found the courage to join her crew. Still, one day she hopes she will find the spirit to stand proudly by her captain’s side.

Lyria will be in the opening sale for my shop on Nov 14!

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The other night I dreamt of one of those rural countryside documentaries centered around a young woman, except I realized she was either a witch or a fae once she started talking about her past romance with archduke Ferdinand of Austria and saw the illogical way she could move her small-scaled brick Trojan horse

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What if all of the scientists at NASA and Mars One are composed of fae and the mystical creatures of the wood who are just trying their damndest to get humanity off the planet so they can have it all to themselves again?? Like their sick and tired of us chopping down all the trees and polluting the waters that their like, 

“You know what, new plan. Lets just find a way to propel them all off into space!”

 So that’s what their doing: advancing technology at an extreme rate, just to get us all to leave. 

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Universe belongs to @wildfaewhump, I didn’t do a whole ton with the language in this one but its a start <3 thanks for the help!

The door wasn’t supposed to be locked when Kefi went to go back inside.  They hadn’t been that far behind Ronin, and it was already raining.  They tugged at the handle desperately, glancing up at the sky in panic.  It was strange, how something that used to promise so much freedom and life could instill such terror in the earthbound fae.

“R,Ronin? Sir?”  Kefi knocked on the door, glancing nervously around.  House was their only shelter, the only safe place.  The stained glass of the windows glowed with warm, inviting light, now feeling like a cruel mockery.  It was dark, their surroundings feeling threatening in comparison to the warm home they knew was the only guarantee of safety.

It started raining harder, water and wind feeling harsh and cold against their skin, already soaked through their clothes and chilling them.

They shrieked when lightning struck overhead, feeling like everything was caving in around them.  Their palms slammed on the door in a panic, eyes wide as they begged, voice trilling in fear.

“Thille,” They begged, choking on the force of their sobs.  “Mháistir, thille lidom,”

They couldn’t stand this, they needed Ronin.  Ronin meant safety and warmth and outside was dangerous.  They couldn’t stay out here, they’d die, they’d be hunted and hurt and killed because the outside was full of nothing but people who wanted to hurt them.

Kefi was more than happy to rush inside when that door finally swung open, barreling into Ronin without hesitation.  They were wrapped in towels, whispered reassurances of I had no idea, I thought you’d gone in to rest

Kefi sobbed against Ronin’s chest, dripping wet, shaking like a leaf in the entryway of the home.  They gave themself freely to the comfort offered, the sense of belonging and being wanted.  This was where they were safe, with Ronin.  They were never safe without him.

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Brigid 🔥

Brigid is the Daughter of the Dagda, one of the more universal deities of the pagan Gaelic world. She is known as the Goddess of Healers, Poets, Smiths, Childbirth and Inspiration; Goddess of Fire and Hearth and a patron of warfare or Briga. Her soldiers were called Brigands. Her name means “Exalted One.” She is also known as Brigantia, Brid, Bride, Briginda, Brigdu, and Brigit. She is said to lean over every cradle. The lore and customs have continued to this day regarding Brighid, more vividly than all the other Gaelic deities combined.


In the middle ages, Brigid is in many stories. In one she is the wife of Bres, the half-Fomorian ruler of the Tuatha Dé Danann. Their son, Ruadan, wounded the smith god Giobhniu at the second battle of Magh Tuireadh but he himself was slain in the combat. Brigid then went to the battlefield to mourn her son. This was said to be the first caoine (keening), or lament, heard in Ireland. Until recent time, it was a tradition to hire women to caoine at every graveside. In another story, Brighid was the wife of Tuireann and had three sons: Brian, Iuchar and Ircharba. In the tale, The Sons of Tuirean, these three killed the god Cian, father of Lugh Lámhfhada when he was in the form of a pig.


She was transformed by the Church of St. Brigid into St. Brigid about 453 C.E. Saint Brighid is known as the patroness of farm work and cattle, and protector of the household from fire and calamity. To this day, one of her most common names in Gaelic is Muime Chriosd, “Foster-Mother of Christ.” St. Brigid was said to be the daughter of Dubthach, a Druid who brought her from Ireland to be raised on the Isle of Iona, sometimes called “The Druid’s Isle.”

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While traditionally fae are forbidden from becoming involved with humans, there are many cases where this rule has been ignored. The children of such unions, as both fae and human, occupy a precarious place in a society that places an emphasis on the divisions between the two kinds. 

Some part-fae choose to embrace their magical heritage, and have even begun to form ‘colony’ associations of their own, since they are not welcomed into traditional colonies of pure-blood fae. Others choose to assimilate as much as possible into the human world and hide their identity. A few exist on the edge of both worlds, practicing their magic in secret, or revealing themselves to a few trusted people, but continuing to live as best they can in the world of humans. 

There is no easy answer for the part-fae. Existing in between two worlds that have reopened old wounds, picking a side is nearly impossible. Supporting the fae who reject them for their bloodlines is no easy proposition, but siding with the humans who will rarely hesitate to take advantage of them is also dangerous. Trapped, most of them keep their heads down and hands clean, and stay out of the conflict. Living on a razor edge that has become a fault line, many of them resent both sides more or less equally for the pain and struggle they live through on a daily basis. They want to be left alone, to survive as themselves, and not be pulled into a struggle between two sides who don’t really want to claim them at all. It’s a war they didn’t ask for, and they’re living proof, literally, that it’s a war that doesn’t need to exist. 

thethistlegirlwrites
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