#story of fae | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

nerdpoe · 4 months

Text

So like...Sam's Liminal. Definitely Liminal. She's also very pretty. Constantine's a little tipsy, but he's very, very sure he just accidentally sat next to a Fae at the bar.

Heavily influenced by certain lines in Inferno, buttttt

Sam's a very pretty young woman. Beautiful smile (with too sharp teeth), lovely eyes (but they're a little too wide, a little too bright), fantastic skin (unnaturally pale, suspiciously cold), and a very pretty face (perfectly symmetrical)-first glance anyone who leans towards women would get instant butterflies in the stomach.

But Constantine's been around danger enough to recognize those aren't butterflies.

That's fear.

There's a deep, instinctual fear that is telling him he has to run.

Just as he's about to leave, though, her hand rests itself on his arm.

"Leaving so soon, Hellblazer? And here I thought you'd want to take a look at this...interesting contract I found."

Ah. Shit.

He sits back down, next to the Unseelie Fae who, apparently, owns part of his soul.

Sam, for her part, just wants to scare the idiot straight so he'll stop making work for Danny. (Danny's days are almost nothing but fielding complaints about Constantine and he's so fucking close to hunting the man down himself).

#dpxdc #dcxdp #dp x dc #dc x dp #phanfic #story prompt #new headcanon that the people from Amity are so liminal that they're unnaturally pretty #and it freaks people out #Paulina became a model that doesn't get the short end of the stick #because every single modeling agency is too terrified of her to try to cheat her #val ended up working as vlad's secretary and is set to inherit his business #and the business world is absolutely terrified of both of them #dash is the prettiest cop in gotham #he's also the scariest #the longer you stand next to him the more creeped out you get but you don't understand WHY #unnaturally beautiful amity parkers #and the actual fae are getting really confused #because they'll see an amity parker in the wild #and think it's one of their own for a second #but it isn't #that's something new #something dangerous #and it's staring right at them

1K notes · View notes

charminglyantiquated · 1 year

Text

First: once you know something’s name you have power over it. This is an old, old rule. Be careful giving out your name, because if it can be given it can be taken, and you along with it.

Second: the fae love beautiful things, and they will steal what they love. Sometimes it is to keep the object of their affection pristine and unaging, unravaged by time; sometimes it is just for the sake of having it. (They don’t love in the same way we do.)

Third: a changeling is a replica created to hide a theft. Sometimes it is a fae creature fully alive and wearing a stolen face. Sometimes it is simply a bundle of branches wrapped in magic, meant to die a wasting death and leave mourners who never suspect the truth.

Last: our city was beautiful. It was known far and wide, and because of that had names spoken in many different tongues. But it was not so hard to gather them all, in the end.

The changeling city was built in a night. The elf-queen fell in love with it, the story goes, and she had to have it. The sun on the far side of the equinox rose to find our city had been stolen from under us, and an imperfect imitation left in its place. Those who had known it their whole life found it suddenly strange underfoot, unfamilar and uncanny. Something woven of branches wrapped in magic, meant to die a wasting death and leave mourners who never suspected the truth.

And yet. What does a changeling want? It exists to hide a theft and then to die. What does it want?

A city can die. A city can be dying. So a city must then also be able to live. A city grows and changes and devours itself to grow further. Cities are hungry. A city kept unaging and untouched will starve to death: it becomes its own mausoleum. (Our city, the stolen city, is pristine and unaging and unravaged by time, in the elf-queen’s land. It is also dead.)

Our city, the changeling city, was meant to die - and so it must have been living, and living things want to keep living. We want it to keep living. We tear down buildings and raise new ones, pave and repave old streets, dig deep into the earth below, coax the borders ever outward like creeping vines. The changes tear open the glamor. The cobweb-thick veil of magic bubbles and warps around new steel girders and road salts, the slow march forward of time and architecture and the tides of humanity. It is how we discover the theft. But even then our city, the changeling city, was already too much something-else to be sent back wholesale. We would not burn it.

Our city becomes stranger around each new rupture point. Marble crumbles into ancient seashells when we tear down old buildings for the stone. When we dig downward into what should be ancient, buried streets, ready to excavate and tunnel, we find untouched cave systems full of silver trees, perfect unmoving imitations of life. Sometimes the cobblestones shake loose and you can see tiles of lapis lazuli and bone laid below them. Some streets writhe like snakes, or unname themselves. In the oldest parts of the city, which we have altered the least, there are buildings that have electricity and running water and heat, even though there is nothing in the bundled-branch walls but kudzu.

This strangeness, the way it shifts and contorts as it grows into something new, is as much part of our city as the image of the stolen city is. The changeling city is a branch grafted into another tree, bearing the first blooms of something the roots were never meant to support. But bloom it does. There are people born in this city, now, who never knew the stolen one at all. People who will never, in all their lives and all the world, feel at home anywhere else, nor know another place half as well.

What does a changeling want? It exists to hide a theft, but what does it want? To be allowed to be. To grow beyond the image it was made in. This is not our city, the stolen city. And yet this is our city. Ever-changing and ravaged by time and alive, it is our city.

It has its own name by now, but you will never know it. We have lost, and learned, and love too dearly to lose this one.

#changeling city #my writing #stories #fae #one day i'll illustrate this #weird little whatever it is

8K notes · View notes

cheeseanonioncrisps · 16 days

Text

Stuck on the idea of vampires as a kind of reverse fae, or like someone's twisted, perverse attempt at moulding humans into fae.

They're repelled by liminal spaces.

A vampire could never enter fairyland, not just because they'd never be welcomed, but because most of the usual entry-ways are naturally barred to them.

They can't cross running water. They can't be seen in mirrors. They will wait forever at a crossroads, unable to pick a direction to go in. They can't even step over a thresh-hold unless there is absolutely no ambiguity about whether they are welcome inside.

They crave human blood, iron and salt, but are repelled by herbs and plants. They are supernaturally prevented from harming you unless the rules of hospitality have been invoked.

A fairy may replace your newborn child with something unnatural and ever-hungry. A vampire will do the same, but with your grandmother's corpse.

The fae are typically associated, even in stories where they're the bad guys, with flourishing and purity. Vampires, even in stories where they're the good guys, are typically associated with decay and corruption.

The fae turn ancient human burial mounds into fancy halls for their courts. Vampires take ancient human castles and let them grow mildewed and cobwebbed, exchanging the beds for coffins, turning them into burial places.

Fae don't tend to live among humans, but can generally pass for them with relative ease if they so choose. Vampires nearly always live among humans, but tend to find not revealing themselves a huge struggle.

I can't think of many stories I've read where fae and vampires even exist in the same universe, let alone ones where they actively interact. I feel like their enmity is almost more inevitable than that between vampires and werewolves, however.

The rivalry between vampires and werewolves is, essentially, the rivalry between two apex predator species who share a territory. (Even in stories where the werewolves aren't actually hunting humans.)

The vampires hate the werewolves because the werewolves interfere with their access to prey. The werewolves hate the vampires either because they consider themselves aligned with humans (the prey species), or because they are also predators and the vampires are competing with them.

By comparison, I think there's some story potential in the fae finding something genuinely creepy and uncanny valley about vampires.

They're immortal, like them, but also dead. They can be beautiful, like them, but that beauty is something they actively require humans to sustain. They like to inhabit beautiful and ancient ex-human dwellings, like them, but they actively work to make those places dark, damp and empty.

Fairies who are unflappable in the face of all sorts of Otherworldly monsters, can look an eldritch horror in the eye(s) without blinking, and have never been phased yet by any human, but will recoil from even the weakest vampire.

Vampires who hate fairies just as much, but in a more envious way. The way that the creature for whom immortality is a curse is bound to hate the creatures for whom immortality is an eternity of sunlight and laughter.

Maybe their touches burn each other. Maybe vampires can't stand physical contact with anything so alive and vital. Maybe immortal fairies become ill from too much exposure to the undead.

Maybe they fight over the human population when their territories overlap. The fairy need for servants and people to make deals with, competing with the vampire need for thralls and blood to drink.

Just… fairies and vampires. We need more stories about them interacting.

#vampires #fae #fairies #fantasy #fantasy headcanons #urban fantasy #now imagine all this in the context of an enemies to lovers story

326 notes · View notes

pintvhorror · 27 days

Text

Fae lore. Eldritch Abominations. Analog Horror. PSX aesthetics.

Please follow and read our Webcomic:

PINTVHORROR 💀🦋

#fae #analog horror #webcomic #webtoon #horror story #horror webseries

364 notes · View notes

callum-librrry · 8 months

Text

Uncanny Valley

Tom and Hazai were exploring a planet recently added to the intergalactic database. Navis was tasked with bringing supply packages to the sentient species there. It was all, of course, an effort to have the planet be knowledgeable of the wider community of space while attempting to keep their technological influence to a minimum. They did something similar to Earth way back when the lightwaves finally made it to the council and Humans were confirmed to be sentient themselves. Unfortunately, any attempts made were quickly swept under the rug known as secret government agencies.

This planet seemed to be doing much better environmentally than Earth was. Lifeforms here evolved somewhat eerily. Most flora was found underground where liquid water was in constant supply. Tom had also seen a large plant with what looked suspiciously like bones in various odd places. After some confirmation with various off-world researchers, it was noted that the plants here were carnivorous. This made sense in Tom’s mind, considering there were multiple examples of such behaviour in the plant life on his home planet. This information spooked Hazai quite a bit more. She was nervous around anything with roots for the entire rest of the mission.

They had been wandering with a vague sense of purpose for quite some time and they were yet to come across any sort of sentient life. This fact did not help the ever-increasing complaining of Tom’s muscles under the weight of the supplies. Gravity here was slightly stronger here than it was in standard conditions, which did not help the ache in Tom’s back in the slightest.

“Hey, Hazai,” he said at last, “I think we should take a break. I can’t carry this pack any longer.”

Hazai reluctantly agreed. She was itching to get out of the underground tunnels and back into the starlight. Nevertheless, they sat down beside a large woody plant that smelt vaguely of honey and laid down some sleeping bags. Well, Tom did in any case. Hazai liked to rest sitting upright with her feathers ruffled in a way the Human found incredibly endearing.

Tom was almost asleep when he heard the sound of footsteps echoing off the tunnel walls. He jerked upright. Hazai had heard the sounds too but seemed less troubled by it.

The footsteps continued. They sounded odd to Tom. They were familiar. Concerningly so. He could hear that whatever it was was bipedal. Its footfalls were also heavy. Not much could echo in such a densely vegetated area. The sound seemed almost… human.

Almost.

Some primal instinct was crawling its way up Tom’s spine. Something was seriously wrong here. He just couldn’t pinpoint what.

He edged up from his sleeping bag, not taking his eyes off the slight bend in the tunnel where the footsteps grew steadily closer.

Hazai seemed to sense the tension now. Her feathers puffed up and she raised her arms in a way not dissimilar to a threatened owl. She did look bigger, but Tom found it difficult to see the Braal as any more intimidating.

Then, from around the bend a figure emerged. The dull light of the cave system made it difficult to make them out in any detail but Tom was still certain that there was something wrong with this alien.

"Oh look, Tom!" Chirped Hazai in relief, "It's a Human! Maybe they can help us find--"

Before she could finish, Tom cut her off with a warning whistle. His nerves made it a little off-key but the message came through nonetheless. Tom eyed up the approaching figure.

It did look Human, in every way it should. It had two plantigrade legs and stood upright in the same way a Human would. It had all the key features on its face. Every part of its anatomy was undeniably Human.

Except, for the fact that it wasn't Human.

There is an interesting thing amongst the species that isn't seen anywhere else in recorded databases. It's a unique sense known only to Humans. Something that has been dubbed the 'uncanny valley' effect. An ability derived from the insane capability of the Human mind to find a Human face. The mind is in fact, so good at finding faces of the same species that it can impeccably recognise when a face is not Human even though all key indicators show that it should be.

Notable comments made by various subjects in studies of the phenomenon say that they themselves cannot pinpoint what exactly causes the effect for them. Some guess it can be the way the Not-Human's mouth moves, or that its hands are ever so slightly out of proportion. Another key feature mentioned is the eyes.

The eyes are what tip Tom off.

"That's not a Human."

Hazai looks at him questioningly. She couldn't see any difference between the average Human and the one in front of her.

"I know you can't see it," Tom said as he grabbed the Braal's feathered shoulder, "but you have to trust me on this."

Hazai hesitated for a second but complied. She’d seen enough of Humans to know not to question their instincts. She eyed the alien in front of her. She looked desperately for what Tom saw in the being. She didn’t have much time though, because soon after Tom dragged her down the winding stone tunnels. A few plants followed them with their gaping traps. They weren’t running. At least, Tom wasn’t. Hazai managed to keep up with his speed walking by hopping forward occasionally.

The Not-Human was following them in strides slightly too long. It moved casually. It even spoke.

“Wait,” it said, “I only want to talk.”

Hazai had the impression they were speaking through a translator. She could hear the metallic drone behind each word. But she could hear desperation behind it. Something she’d heard from Tom multiple times before.

“Please,” she tugged at Tom’s sleeve, “Can’t we listen? They might stop once they know we know.”

Tom grimaced. He was thinking through all the possible ways attempting to negotiate with the alien might go wrong, but with one look into Hazai’s eyes, he complied.

“Fine,” he groaned, “we’ll talk.”

----

The alien sat in front of them on a mossy stone. Their limbs were splayed around them in a way that really shouldn’t be comfortable. They looked comfortable now though. The short conversation they had (which was more of a declaration that Tom saw through their disguise) allowed them to relax.

As it turns out the alien is from a species of ‘shapeshifters’. They explained that it is mainly used as a defence mechanism but as the species became more sentient they tended to use it more for fun.

“I didn’t mean to freak you out,” They explained, “I just thought you looked cool, and it’s always easier to make friends when you look like them.”

Tom didn’t make eye contact. He could barely still look at the alien. He understood them, to a certain extent, but the whole ordeal still had him on edge.

“I’m surprised you knew I wasn’t… uh Human. Generally, my disguises are pretty good”

Tom spluttered for a second as he tried to think of an answer.

“It’s– Um, it’s just something we’re good at? We just know when something isn’t actually human.”

The alien hummed.

“Don’t think I’ve heard of anything like that before…”

“You probably haven’t. We’re weird like that.”

The group fell into a mildly comfortable silence. Tom glanced at Hazai who also seemed to be mulling the new information over. She had a concerned look in her eyes.

Eventually, Tom remembered the reason they were there in the first place. He handed over the supply pack.

“It’s mainly just some information about intergalactic culture. Dos and do nots and all that. I think there's some stuff about similar planets and how to survive basic space travel,” Tom picked up a few items as he spoke. “We’re not meant to interfere with ‘the natural technological progression of a planet’, so I can’t really help you out with the getting to space part.”

“Ah.” The alien was thinking. Tom noticed a certain pattern in the way their limbs moved when they were considering things.

“I guess I’ll have to get this back to the rest of us,” they said finally.

The conversation turned to goodbyes here. Tom was eager to leave the weird uncanny valley planet and Hazai just wanted to be able to see the sky without the fear of being eaten by an off-brand pitcher plant. The alien, though, seemed at home here. He explained how he hated to see the two travellers go.

“But I guess we’ll get more now that we’re registered with, whatever the space organisation is.”

Tom agreed and they parted ways.

----

Back on Navis Tom and Yongrae were eating together.

“I had the weirdest experience on that new planet we went to,” Tom said, “The sentient species there can shapeshift, it’s weird as hell.”

“Ah,” Yongrae smiled, “like a Not-Deer situation?”

“Worse. They looked Human.”

“Ohh…”

“Y’know I tried to explain it, but it’s just really weird. What even is that?”

Yongrae thought for a second.

“Uncanny Valley?” he said, “Like with that one guy in Rogue One?”

Tom nodded eagerly. It had been on his mind ever since they left the planet. Uncanny Valley. It had a nice sound to it. He’d have to do more research into exactly what it was.

“Thanks for that, man. It’s been bothering me.”

“No problem,” Yongrae hit his shoulder, “You know what we should do now? Binge some Star Wars.”

Tom laughed. While being an Earth classic, the movies really showed their age now. It was more like watching a documentary on what the past Humans thought about space, but it was fun nevertheless.

“Yeah, that sounds like a plan.”

#writeblr #writing #haso #humans are space orcs #humans are weird #humans are deathworlders #uncanny valley #humans are space australians #humans are weird #humans are space fae #JANK 2 #more JANK 2 one shots because the main story is killing me #uncanny valley is freaky tho #why do we need to know when something isn't *quite* human?

540 notes · View notes

ghost-bxrd · 3 months

Note

I’ve been getting really into magical stuff recently and also DC so I’m just gonna drop this here:

Fae Dick Grayson

F A E

okay so fae stories are special to me because I grew up on hearing pagan folklore and fairytales about fae and fae adjacent creatures as good night stories so hooo boy yes I adore that trope! (I mean, I made Dick a Banshee in my fic Shuck so… hehe)

Anyway, Fae Dick Grayson! There’s just so many things you can do with it ✨

Robin appears from one day to the next, following in Batman’s shadow like a mischievous sprite, so honestly rumors have been going wild about him since day one. Robin actually being something non-human doesn’t really come as a surprise!

The fae folk are known for being awfully good at blending in with regular humans when they put their mind to it, the only thing that puts them apart (in most stories) is their otherworldly beauty, and Dick Grayson? Well, he’s definitely got that in abundance.

Just sometimes, when the light reflects off a surface in just the right way, when someone pours a glass of water and you happen to look right through the spray, or when you think you catch a glimpse of something out of the corner of your eye and you spin around— but there’s only Dick Grayson, even if a second ago you could have sworn you saw eyes where there weren’t supposed to be any; colors that aren’t supposed to exist; feathers where only skin has any right to be.

And, gods, all the talking. Dick is terrifyingly good at talking to people without actually saying anything, to the point where you walk away from the conversation feeling utterly drained after spilling your entire life story but when you think back on it— you can’t remember him ever telling you anything about himself. You know there were the usual pleasantries of “hi” and “nice to meet you” and “how are you doing?” but anything beyond that just kinda… seemed to spill out of you? It’s very strange. It’s very unnerving. By the end of the evening you other convince yourself you’re overreacting or you simply push the incident out of your mind altogether.

And there’s another thing about Dick. His name.

He only ever introduces himself as Dick Grayson/Robin. Never Richard. Never. Especially not Richard John. Names are sacred for the fae folk, names have power, so while Richard John Grayson may not be Dick’s true name, he treats it as such to honor his parents. None are allowed to use it. None except Bruce or Alfred on special occasion.

Of course, Dick’s “true” name isn’t exactly a secret so when someone does happen to use it… well, Dick may be… other… but he’s still intrinsically good in a way many of his kind don’t have the patience to be. Dick judges on a case by case basis, just like his parents and Bruce taught him. And usually people do not mean it maliciously when they use his name so he kindly corrects them and that’s that. But oh man, if they still insist on calling him “Richard”? Well..

“Oh no, it seems your credit card is being declined, sir!”

“Sheesh, you tripped over a root? In Gotham?!”

“What do you mean ten birds flew into your window last night? You live on floor level!”

“Dude I’m telling you that rash doesn’t look normal.”

“I… don’t think crows are supposed to follow you like that.”

It’s little things (most of the time, unless you really pissed Dick off) but they keep piling up, slowly driving you insane. You feel like you’re being watched, but it’s just a bird sitting on the window sill again. You feel like someone moved all your furniture just slightly to the right even tho you checked all the cameras.

The fae are kind, but they are also vindictive when crossed.

(Thanks to Bruce, however, I think Dick’s bouts of “vengeance” rarely go much farther than that though.)

Dang ok that ended up being an entire rant… wow. Anyway, yeah. Fae.

#look growing up in the middle of the woods just does something to you #my entire family told us tales about the creatures in the woods #looking back on it now a lot of them were fairly creepy #but my cousin and I always went looking for the one who ‘swayed the trees’#there’s not a good translation for it but it sounds pretty cool in my language #and also slightly gruesome #double meaning and all that #then again our idea of fun was traipsing into the moors and finding ways through it without getting stuck so idk #wow ok that reads like a bit of a horror story but I swear it was great #anyway #ghost talks #fae dick Grayson #dick grayson #nightwing #Robin

215 notes · View notes