fairywilds

[fairywilds]

Eitan was on his way to meet up with Mini, who he'd had a new opinion on as of lately because of the revelation of the two of them both being fond of pulling pranks. Still wearing his work uniform, slightly rumpled, but his grin was still intact especially when he saw them. In one hand, he carried a bag of popcorn so big it was practically comical. The other waved to them and gave them a welcoming nod. The buttery scent clung to him as he made his way toward Mini. “Okay, I know we said we were just going to do a low-key chill sesh,” he began as he plopped down beside them, hefting the oversized bag onto his lap, “but I figured I’d bring the best part of my job to you, just 'cause I could." He offered them a mischievous look as he dug into the bag, popping a generous handful of popcorn into his mouth. “Extra-large popcorn, courtesy of employee perks. You’re welcome.” He chimed and offered them space to grab some popcorn too. ( @minimink )

[fairywilds]

Aristotle leaned against the doorframe of Azariah's office, his ever-present camera hanging loosely around his neck. The faint scent of lilies lingered in the air, courtesy of a nearby arrangement. "So, tell me," he stated, his tone laced with casually friendly snark, "do you have to give the funeral sympathy speech? Does it just flow out naturally like some kind of morbid superpower?" He tilted his head, "Or is that not part of the job description?" He questioned, his sharp green eyes studying her with a mixture of curiosity and amusement. "Either way, I’m impressed. You’ve got that whole 'comforting but not too comforting' vibe down to an art form." ( @azariahmiles )

[fairywilds]

The late afternoon sun streamed through the tall windows of Remember, Remember, casting a warm glow over the store’s eclectic collection of antiques. Salem stood at the counter, meticulously cataloging a shipment of vintage jewelry that had come in that morning. He glanced up when he heard Alectrona's heels clicking against the floor, the sound familiar and oddly grounding. After a moment, Salem cleared his throat. “I was thinking,” he began, his tone careful but curious, “about holding onto the past... Don't you ever think about how much of this,” he gestured lightly to the shop around them, “is tied to the past? Does it ever feel like you’re carrying too much of it?” He questioned, hoping she would understand where he was coming from with his sentiment. ( @alectronathegoddess )

[fairywilds]

Ezra's sharp gaze caught the faint shimmer before his mind processed the impossible. At first, he dismissed it as a trick of the lounge’s dim light, but then the chill set in— a cold that no draft could explain. His head turned slowly, and there she was: Audrey. Standing as if she’d simply walked back into his life. He blinked, once, twice, trying to force his brain to reconcile the sight with reality. “Well,” he said finally, his voice smooth but laced with a tight edge, “if it isn’t the ghost of unfinished business herself.” He tilted his head, studying her with a mix of amusement and something guarded, as though bracing for impact. “Back from the great beyond to haunt me? Or did you just miss the nightlife?” The words were sharp, teasing even, but the faint crack in his composure— the way his eyes lingered just a second too long— betrayed the emotions he worked so hard to bury. ( @mcnstercus )

[fairywilds]

Aleazara arrived with a small package tucked under her arm, the warm scent of freshly baked scones accompanying her ever since she left the bakery. She spotted Addison and, without hesitation, Aleazara approached, setting the bag down beside her friend. "I figured you might appreciate these," she said softly, her voice steady but kind. "I know you don’t need them, but sometimes... a little normalcy can help." She offered to share scones together. Even though she knew Addison's ghostly nature didn't require sustenance in this way, Aleazara knew she could interact with the real world in some ways. She didn't know much about ghosts, but had heard that somewhere before. "And if nothing else, I’ll eat them while you get to enjoy the smell. It’s close enough to comfort, right?" Aleazara settled in beside her, her presence unintrusive but grounding, as if offering a quiet reminder that Addison always had a friend in her. ( @howmcnythings )

[fairywilds]

The back corner of the club was shrouded in shadow, far from the strobing lights and the thrumming pulse of bodies on the dance floor. Wolfgang leaned back in a booth, his drink half empty, fingers idly tapping against the table in time with the music. He’d been here long enough to regret it— crowds weren’t necessarily his thing anymore— but he wasn’t ready to leave just yet. Something about the chaos still kept his mind from wandering too far when in the quiet. The figure sliding into the seat across from him drew his attention, her iridescent presence cutting through the haze of neon and smoke from his vape. Catalina Santiago lounged as if she owned the place, her smudged eyeliner and lazy grin making her look like she’d just stepped out of some underground grunge band’s music video. He gave her a nod after giving her the once-over. "I thought mermaids had better places to be, you know, other than here." He glanced around, a dry smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. ( @howmcnythings )

[fairywilds]

NICHOLAS ALEXANDER CHÁVEZ

by Nino Muñoz for Netflix Queue (October 2024)

[fairywilds]

Zafir closed the book, letting his fingers linger over the embossed cover, his gaze thoughtful as he listened. "You’re right, in a way," he replied, his voice low, almost contemplative. "It’s all a fragile balance, isn’t it? We're all tangled together, bound by need and circumstance— an odd sort of ecosystem. Take one piece away, and things begin to unravel." He shifted slightly. "Funny how much our lives depend on each other, and yet, we all carry our grudges, our own wars, our sense of superiority.” He raised an eyebrow, glancing at her with a flicker of dry humor. “So, maybe we’re all just wasps and figs, each of us clinging to survival, even if it costs the other." He looked back at the trees, his expression softening, as if the topic had drawn him somewhere far off. "Still, it’s strange to think of it— choosing to be one or the other. maybe i’d rather be something entirely different, beyond the wasp or fig… if only we had that kind of choice."

Natalie had stopped on the bench to fix a button on her coat sleeve. It had been bothering her all day. She fiddled with it, trying to figure out why it wasn't going all the way through the buttonhole. Maybe she would have to get out her sewing kit and fix it later. She looked up at the story being told by the other. "Oh... Well I don't know about wasps and figs, but couldn't you use that same metaphor with all the supernatural beings and humans in a way? We all rely on each other in some way. Witches created vampires for example. We owe our whole existence to them in a way. And we can't live without humans as our food source. Meanwhile many of the other supernatural creatures rely on them to continue their bloodlines otherwise it would turn into the whole royal family with all the inbreeding. So at the end of the day, it wouldn't end well if we tried to get rid of even one group of us. It would throw the balance off about everything."

[fairywilds]

Zafir chuckled softly, closing the book and resting it on his lap. “You’re right,” he said, nodding. “It’s only certain kinds of figs. The relationship is... unique, specific. Not all figs need wasps, and not all wasps need figs. But the ones that do? They’re inseparable. bound by this strange, delicate balance.” He tilted his head slightly, glancing at Louis with a faint expression. “And I don’t blame you for not wanting to pick. Being a wasp sounds grim, and being a fig means letting something die inside you. Doesn't exactly sound fun, does it?” Leaning back on the bench, he let his gaze drift to the trees. “But, still, if I had to choose... I think I’d be the wasp. Fleeting, maybe, but with purpose. What about you?" He raised his brow. "—Still refusing to pick?”

"You know, I've heard that somewhere," Louis said, chuckling, "I thought it wasn't real at first. It's not all figs, is it? Isn't it only a certain kind?" he thought for a moment and shrugged, "I'm not a big fan of wasps or figs so I'm not sure I'd pick either to be honest."

[fairywilds]

Zafir traced the edge of his book absentmindedly, his gaze fixed on the horizon as he considered her words. “The fig, hmm?” He said softly, the corners of his mouth tugging into a faint smile. “Flourishing even in the face of loss… There’s a kind of quiet strength in that. Bittersweet, but enduring.” He turned his head, meeting Azariah’s contemplative glance with his own. “Me?” He repeated, the question hanging in the air for a moment. “I think I’d be the wasp.” His voice dropped slightly, thoughtful. “Short-lived, perhaps, but purposeful. A fleeting existence, yet essential to something greater than itself.” There was a pause, and then he chuckled lightly. “Or maybe that’s me romanticizing it. I suppose being either means sacrifice, doesn’t it? And honestly, I've had my fill of that for several lifetimes.” His smirk softened as he leaned back against the bench, letting the breeze carry his next words. “Or perhaps it’s better to just admire the dance from a distance— without becoming either one.” He contemplated.

Azariah adjusted her posture slightly, crossing her legs as she considered the metaphor Zafir had shared. Her sharp gaze shifted from the gentle sway of the trees to his book, briefly admiring its intricate design. “The wasp and the fig,” she echoed softly, her voice a calm, measured tone. “It’s a strange, almost poetic relationship, isn’t it? One gives life; the other takes it away but in the end, neither survives without the other.” She paused for a moment, her fingers brushing against the pendant around her neck, a subtle reminder of the delicate balance between life and death. “If I had to choose…” Her lips curled into a faint, cryptic smile. “I suppose I would be the fig. Continuation; legacy, even if it comes at a cost. Something about the idea of flourishing even when death is inevitable resonates with me.” She cast a sidelong glance at Zafir and tilted her head slightly, her expression contemplative. “And you? Do you see yourself as the wasp or the fig in this scenario?”

[fairywilds]

Phaethon let out a soft chuckle, the sound warm and unhurried. “Still young,” he echoed, amusement lacing his words. “I’ll have to remember that the next time I feel ancient.” He glanced at Caleb, his smile turning wry, as he hinted that his real age is nothing close to young. “But I do know what you mean. It’s strange, though— spending so long living for others and then trying to figure out who you are when it’s just… you.” He shifted his weight, crossing his arms loosely. “You’re lucky, you know. To have always had something you’re passionate about. Dancing. It’s something to anchor yourself to when everything else feels uncertain.” Phaethon’s gaze softened, his tone carrying a touch of admiration. “Maybe that’s what I need— an anchor. Or at least a good distraction until I figure out what that looks like.”

Caleb laughed, "You and I have that in common," he replied. His parents always said he couldn't ever sit still. He was always dancing, before he could even walk, "Eh, you're still young, you'll figure it out," he replied and then he snorted, "God, I sounded so old saying that. You know what I mean," he nodded, "Yeah, that's definitely right."

[fairywilds]

Aneurin listened with a quiet intensity, his gaze drifting to the ground as he thought over her words. “It’s true,” he said slowly, as if tasting the thought for the first time. “Comparing what we go through… it only ever gets in the way of seeing things as they are. Maybe it’s just human nature to weigh our own struggles against others’. But everyone’s carrying their own load, no matter how it looks on the outside.” His voice softened, and he glanced back up at her. “Sometimes I think I’ve spent so long watching out for other people that I forget how to let anyone in myself. Orlaith’s… well, she’s taught me a lot about that, in her own way. Even if neither of us would admit it.” He paused, watching her expression shift as she talked about Erik, and his smile grew thoughtful. “Sounds like he’s someone who really sees you, and that’s rare. It’s not easy finding someone who stays through the tough times.” He looked off for a moment, as if trying to find the right words, then nodded to himself. “I think there’s something… grounding in knowing someone’s there, even if you don’t always need them. And it sounds like you two have that.”

"It's hard to realize that the not handling it isn't working. Then hindsight just makes you wonder how you ever thought that was going to work," she joked, shaking her head at the very idea that she was totally fine in the past. Clearly she hadn't been. "Don't discount yourself like that. You may not deal with the same things your sister does, but it's all hard at the end of the day. Some people handle certain things better than others, but we all have those things that are harder for us." She had done that in the past, saying the things that she had to deal with weren't as hard as what others had to deal with. But for her it was hard and that was all that counted. "Yes, I agree. He definitely is a keeper. He's always been there for me, long before we ever started dating. Just like I've done my best to be there for him."

[fairywilds]

Lux chuckled, tilting his head thoughtfully. “Writing things down, huh? Guess that’s where I’ve been going wrong, trying to keep it all in my head. Not my strongest strategy.” He tapped his temple lightly, as if making a mental note. “I’ll give it a shot. Maybe I’ll even start my own list— a ‘How Not to be Disappointed by You’ checklist. Just to keep things fair.” He grinned, a playful glint in his eye. “But trust me, you’re not disappointing. If anything, you’ve got me curious.” He said, crossing his arms and rocking back on his heels. “Guess we’ll see if this whole balance thing rubs off on me, hopefully it doesn't throw me off-kilter, but if it's in a good way, maybe it's what I need." He shrugged.

"I wouldn't say I've mastered it, but I'm try very very hard," she admitted with a soft laugh. Maybe some day she would master it, but for now she was just happy to be trying her best. She didn't need to be the best at it, just keep trying. "Well, the first tip I will give you is that writing things down helps a lot. Gives you a chance to look at everything objectively and figure it out." Making lists was her life after all. It helped her organize her thoughts and figure out what to do. "That's nice of you to say. Hopefully I don't end up being disappointing."

[fairywilds]

Auberon tilted their head slightly, their faint smile tinged with thoughtfulness. “That’s an intriguing way to approach it,” they said, their voice deliberate and smooth. “Turning your chaos into something you can step back from— almost like crafting a piece of art from it. It’s a perspective I can appreciate.” Their bleached white hair caught the light, accentuating the sharp focus of their piercing stare. They tapped a finger against their arm, as if considering their next words carefully. “I don’t keep a journal, but I’ve been known to jot down a poem or two when inspiration strikes. Something about shaping the intangible into words helps make sense of the noise. I suppose, in a way, that’s not so different from what you’re doing.” Their gaze lingered on her, softer now but no less intent. “It’s rare to see someone actually be able to take their pain and craft it into something meaningful. That’s no small feat. Maybe I should start writing more often— if only to remind myself that not everything has to be so meticulously controlled. Sometimes, I suppose, chaos deserves to exist on its own terms.”

"Trust me, I know that all too well," she stated, scrunching her nose in distaste at how she had ended up reacting before. It had been awful and probably would have killed her at some point. "Well it's not just my idea. My therapist suggested it and I've been trying my best to follow their suggestions. They know about these things and have a bit of a clearer perspective than I do." They could look at her life and the things she had been through with an unbiased view, something she hadn't realized she needed. She considered the question, thinking carefully about her response. "Yes, but writing it out helps me to think about it in a new way. Seeing it in writing makes it feel like it is happening to someone else, so I just follow the advice that I would give to someone else going through that."

[fairywilds]

Aristotle leaned back on the bench, one arm draped lazily over the backrest as he gave Kris a sidelong glance. “Fine? That’s a suspiciously vague answer,” he quipped, the faintest smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth. “Usually, ‘fine’ means ‘I don’t want to talk about it,’ but hey, I’m not here to pry. Yet.” At her question, he shifted. “Am I alright? Well, let’s see. I’ve got a head that feels like a smashed watermelon and a body that’s seriously questioning my life choices, so... yeah, I’m great.” He tapped his temple lightly, as if to drive the point home. “But really,” he added, his tone softening— just slightly— “you’ve got that look. The one people get when they’re dealing with their fair share of shit. So, are we being vague today, or do you feel like being more, uh, honest?” He asked.

Kris was out on her usual run through the park, following the same route she reserved for Sunday mornings; a time she used to reflect on the past week and mentally prep for the one ahead. Lately, though, she’d been running more often, using the miles to clear her head after the wedding attack. She hadn’t been there herself, but her brother and niece were, and that shook her. Kris and Jon were just starting to reconnect, tentatively rebuilding the relationship that had been fractured for so long. The thought of losing him before they had the chance to fully repair what was broken hit her hard. Was she doing enough to fix things? The uncertainty made her chest tighten. Feeling a bit overwhelmed, Kris slowed to a stop and sat down on the nearest bench, taking a few deep breaths to steady herself. A voice greeted her, pulling her out of her thoughts. She looked up to see Aristotle making his way over, settling onto the bench beside her. She gave him a small smile. "I’m fine," she shrugged, though her mind was still swirling. "But I feel like I should be asking you that... Are you alright?"

[fairywilds]

Nimue tilted her head, her sea-green eyes narrowing in thought. “Yeah, but over there, at least you had a purpose, right? A direction. Even if it was chaos, it was focused chaos,” she said, her tone firm but understanding. “Here, it’s like waiting for a storm that might not even come, and meanwhile, you’re just stuck staring at the sky like an idiot.” She gave him a crooked smile, the edges tinged with frustration but also solidarity. “I don’t know how you managed that, honestly. I’d have probably gone crazy. At least now, we get to stew in the same mess together. Misery loves company, or something like that, right?” Leaning back slightly, she shrugged, her smile softening. “But hey, at least it’s tolerable knowing someone else gets it. If we’re going to wait for the sky to fall, might as well have a friend to watch it with.”

THIS IS WAS ONE OF THE THING HE MOST APPRECIATED ABOUT NIMUE. he could say something, even if not fully thought out, and she wouldn't judge him for it. no, she UNDERSTOOD him. they were able to say what they were thinking in the moment and process it together. they could help each other finish their thoughts in a way that it would now make sense to others. he couldn't help but nod at her words. "when i was over seas, that's kind of what it felt like all the time." he paused for a second, looking toward her and smiling softly. "i think it was just so constant that it made it tolerable. unlike here." he agreed, it was maddening.

[fairywilds]

“Stereotypical vampire? You wound me,” he replied, his voice dripping with mock indignation. “I prefer enigmatic recluse. It has a better ring to it.” As Taelyn steadied herself, he stepped aside to let her in. “And as for gracing the world with my presence… I might. Depends on whether the world has done anything lately to deserve me,” he teased, his tone light but with an undertone of dry humor. “...Did someone finally decide to throw a party worth attending? Or is this one of those routine ‘come out and socialize before you forget how to talk to people’ interventions?” He questioned.

Taelyn knocked and waited before cracking open Ezra’s door. It had been a few days since she’d seen him, and though she knew he had his moments of withdrawing from the world, she wanted to check in. The room was dark; blackout curtains drawn and a single candle casting a faint glow. “Stereotypical vampire,” she teased, smirking as she stepped inside; only to nearly collide with an amused Ezra. “Oh, you scared me,” she laughed softly, rolling her eyes. “Very funny, Ez… so, are you planning to grace us with your presence today?” @fairywilds