#fae ranting

[faetaiity]

Hello everyone! Leon aka Fae here,

So, apparently someone has reblogged a lot of my stuff, other peoples stuff and some tcest (gross), despite my clear DNI towards tcest and proshipping in general

If anyone here has had things reblogged from a user named @/un-worthyplbs, I suggest you block them

Here’s a tag list of people I’ve found who has had their stuff reblogged from them (some of these I won’t actually tag, because I don’t know them, if you know them, I would appreciate you DMing them, but if you do NOT know them, don’t DM them, please. /srs)

@killjoygod @creator-of-creativious @temmerlover @yanyanderes @/ashwii @/donathan @/landsel @/metalchairleowo @/rqsamy @/tmntxthings @/knightish-knight @/yanderes-galore @/less-depresso-more-espresso @/time-woods @/meandtheyeehaws

Proof that they support Proshipping/Tcest:

(Last one mainly because they talk about reblogging stuff when they’re h0rny :|)

Proof that they’ve reposted from these people:

(Because I’m only allowed to post 10 pics in a single post, I’m gonna start with the people I’ve actually mentioned here)

Alright, I’ll reblog this with more photos in a minute, sorry for the mentions :’)

[planariaareneat]

How The Nocturnal Bottleneck and Nipples Make Us Human

Almost every post here considers what humans do have, really. It’s a little tiring; realistically every world has its harsh environments and vicious species and a sophont to match. We probably wouldn’t be unique for our adaptability or our persistence or even adrenaline

But our evolution is fucked up as hell, to put it lightly.

Mammals went through what’s been dubbed the nocturnal bottleneck essentially since the start of the mesozoic right up until the Cretaceous ended the archosaur’s exclusive hold over the daylight. We lost a lot of things from every mammal spending most of its time in either a cramped, suffocating burrow or scrounging around in the faint hours of nighttime. Our blood cells lost their nuclei to hold more oxygen while we spent time deep underground, we lost protections against ultraviolet rays in our skin and eyes, we can’t even repair our own DNA using the light of the sun. Most aliens probably wouldn’t have such traits unless their evolution followed a very similar path to ours. They’d be able to see ultraviolet and wouldn’t have to worry about sunburn and all the wonderful privileges essentially all fish, birds, amphibians, and reptiles enjoy as we speak. 

There’s also what we gained from spending so much time in the dark.

Brown fat is only found in mammals, it’s a special type of fat which bear cells with several oil droplets and are utterly jammed with mitochondria. This lets it make heat, a lot of it, fast. We don’t even need to shiver to induce this heat generation from brown adipose tissue - factor in our downright hyperactive mitochondria, and we can warm up quickly. Sure, it doesn’t have too much use in adult humans, but it keeps our infants warm and still provides a little boost the whole run we have in this universe.

Unless aliens also went through a time where their small ancestors had to face cold nights, they’d have to produce heat the old fashioned way when chilled. Aliens might have to shiver the whole time they’re in a cold room while the human watches in confusion, quite literally unshaken, and wonders if the room is a lot colder than the thermostat set to 60 says. The aliens stare at their companion in confusion, it’s just a normal temperature to shiver at after all, how is the human sitting so still?

Our small ancestors spending all their time out foraging at night is also why we have such a good sense of touch, smell, and hearing. They were more important senses than vision (we’re lucky to have even redeveloped basic color vision, frankly) at the time and place and simply ended up continuing to serve us well. Birds and reptiles rarely have acute senses of smell and the latter especially are lucky to have acute hearing, and birds rarely have impeccable hearing themselves either. Our skin is free of scales and honed to sensitivity, and our external ears and complicated ear bones provide an immense range of hearing (from 20 all the way to 17,000 hertz!).

Aliens might not be able to pin down the chirp of a cricket or the light click of a lock being picked. The human might be the only one on board a ship that can pick out the finer sounds of the engine’s constant thrum and know the critical difference between when everything is fine and when something is wrong. The human could probably pick out the sounds of an approaching enemy’s careless footsteps - they’re only as light enough for *them* to stop hearing them, after all - and be the one to see the horrified expression (well, more on that later) on their face when we get the drop on them in spite of their perceived stealth. 

But perhaps the most versatile, convoluted, amazing, and utterly unique trait we have is right on your face this instant. Lips.

Lips in most animals are a simple seal to hold in the mouth’s moisture and protect the teeth, even if they’re supple they’re NEVER muscular except in mammals, and we have only one thing to thank for it; milk and nipples. Lips evolved exclusively to allow babies to suckle, it required a vacuum to be created in the mouth, and with no other animal having anything like a nipple it never happened in other animals. Many animals make milk, to be frank, but no other animal has nipples.

Your cheeks and lips are a marvel among tetrapods, no other animal can suck like mammals can. Aliens wouldn’t have straws or even be able to sip from the edge of a glass, they’d have to have a proboscis or simply tilt the whole thing back. Aliens likely won’t have woodwind instruments or balloons you can blow into. We take so much about our lips for granted. Hell, our muscular faces are vital for expressions, we’re probably absolute facial contortionists among a cast of creatures with mandibles and beaks and expressionless scaly maws. Aliens might find us ridiculously easy to read, if anything, compared to their own kind (all the better to deceive them) - or perhaps they’d find us hard to decipher anyways, with our lack of color-changing skin or erectable crests of bright feathers. Baring teeth might not be seen as a sign of aggression in most of the universe, smiling would be all too distinctly human. 

Perhaps with how infectious we are sometimes, that’s what we’d contribute to the universe; others might have to make do with opening their mouths just enough to show their teeth or splaying their innumerable mouthparts with just the right curve, but perhaps we’d teach the galaxy to smile, one ally at a time. 

Wouldn’t that be amazing?

[running-with-kn1ves]

Faeries and Giants

A/N: Thanks that one anon for this idea! took my own spin on it >:DD

Content Warning: Held hostage by a giant, mentioned consumption of humanoid creatures, kidnapping

Synopsis: Life isn’t all great being a faerie in a world of giants, elves and dwarves-- of which, some are keen on plucking you from the forest floor like a berry and keeping you to themselves. 

“So… delicate,” plump fingers outlined the crisp glass of your wings, their luminescence almost blinding to the giant. Your teensy, human-like frailty was some sort of evolutionary mistake-- how could you survive in these woods for so many decades, for centuries? You and your kind were mini parasites-- although delicious, and cute to play with, ultimately not meant to survive in this world where big bad wolves and giants ten times your size could pick you up like an acorn and snap you like a tall blade of grass. 

“Get your dirty paws-- OFF!” You kicked and bit with feral haste, clothes of leaf and twine breaking each time the giant poked and prodded at your pudgy, elongated features. One wrong tug and your arm or leg could come twisting off, your wings tarnished and ripped to fragments if he so pleased. 

“Settle down now, little one,” He let out a roar of a laugh, shaking down through his palms to his feet, making the earth beneath him crumble. “You’ll get hurt worming around so much!”

You shrieked at the gentle touch against your bare sole, the giant playing with your toes and fingers as he stretches and bends your limbs. 

“Please--urk, put me down! I’m not meant to be this high, I, I need to get back to the ground-- let me go!” 

“Ah, but aren’t you meant for the skies, little beast? What else are these… appendages for. Mere sparkly decoration?”

He runs a finger down the middle of your back, touching the sinewy fiber connecting translucent wings to your spine. You shivered, physically jolting at the uncomfortable, warmly touch. 

Your wings were drenched-- wrinkled and sopping from the “quick dip” the giant holding you thought would be a good idea before scooping you up like a pretty pebble. His previous…encounters with your kind must’ve prepared him well for the fluttery agility your poor wings could provide.

“Hm, do you like that?” The giant groans in heightened interest, resting his cheek in his hand as he holds you in the other. “The fairies I’ve met are far less dainty, withholding far more… animosity. Of course, they had been well-versed in magic and spells moreso than you seem to be. Far more appetizing, too. But you… you almost look like a stout sapling, useless in all endeavors besides your adorable little figure!”

….Appetizing? 

Looking to the Giant’s pocket, you can see them there….Wings, some crumped to shards, others merely bent, stuffed in his trousers with shimmering pinks and golds and blues-- cleanly picked off of whatever faerie they belonged to.

“You… they’ve been disappearing, because of you! Collecting their poor wings…You’re a monster! My friends, eaten and killed--!”

The giant brought you to his eyes for closer inspection, pools of lake green beneath his moppy silvering and unkempt hair. He observed the river of tears falling from your face, your nose dripping and stuffy as you beat against his hand. 

“Why yes! We seem to agree on something; I am a monster of the forest-- as are you, and your thieving little fellow faeries. Stealing from my livestock, shoveling everything they can find into their mouths, attempting to poison and spitroast and maim me--” He brushes a tan knuckle against your cheek, smooshing it in an attempt to wipe away your tears. “And so I eat them-- which ever ones manage to cross me, choosing to arise my wrath. It’s the circle of life, my little winged beast.” 

He chuckles at the nickname, gazing at you slumped over on the creases of his palm, calloused from a life of barreling trees and tending to his oversized farm on the outskirts of your fae hamlet.

 You were too high to jump from his palm at this height, even with his fingers no longer tightly wound around you. If you tried to fly now-- you’d be as good as dead. 

“S..so, what’re you gonna do, with me?”

You wipe away your tears, trying to see the giant clearly this time; maybe you could pinpoint a weak area of his, something to make him drop you-- it’d be better than spending eternity in his palm, or his stomach. 

“So precious… What do you think? Should I eat you?” He grins, a large straw of wheat hanging from betwixt his lips. 

You shake your head rapidly, attempting to reach for the dagger in your leather boot. 

“No, no. Of course not, I can’t rid myself of such a cute fae like you, even if I despise the rest of your species--” He delicately takes his thumb and pointer finger to your cheeks, squeezing them to puff out your lips. “I enjoy your itsy-bitsy presence too much… perhaps I’ll keep you where the birds used to lay; the cage is quite spacious, right in the kitchen. I’ll make a soft bed of chicken feathers for you, a table just big enough to do your faerie crafts and harmless little spells on.” The giant smiles softly, touching the bare of your collar uncovered by leaf and leather cloth. “I’ll bring trinkets from the valley for you to do with as you please, cook hearty meals for us to share, even let you out to be coddled and touched every now and again-- how does that sound?” 

You were quick to shake your head, tempted to stab at his palm with your dagger, but an irked expression ran across the giant’s lips as his gaze fell to the grassy plain beneath him. 

“Your friend here however, will not be staying.” He holds you tightly again-- squeezing enough to keep you in the dark of his palm. It was warm and of an earthy smell, almost too tight for your cold body. You're abruptly tucked into the giants shirt pocket, a finger over your mouth and eyes that forced you into muted darkness.

Even with your fabricated blindness, you could here the breathy grunts of a familiar voice-- unmistakably from a woodland elf, the glass-shattering vocal chords of a creature who could burst ear drums if he so desired. You didn’t know for sure, but you had a reasonable guess of which elf in particular who seemed to be fighting a mountain of a giant in your honor. An unforgettable, certainly imbecilic ignoramus elf who tailed you everywhere you went in hopes that, this time you would accept his smitten betrothal request. 

You swam against fabric tugging you downward to reach the shirt pocket’s opening, wincing as the giant holding you captive yelped out.

“Gah! he stabbed me, the little fucking imp!”

It's the first you've heard him curse with such venom, mouth curling into a snarl as he bends to pick up the wooden sword-swinging elf at his boot. 

The elf screamed out your name, trying to cut at the scarred fingers holding him hostage. You reached out to him from beneath your pocket enclosure before the giant flicked you on the head, holding your savior far out by the tips of his fingers. 

“Ah look here, your knight in shining armor… hah, too bad, he looks absolutely delectable.”

The giant’s irritation was growing by the second, keeping a hand over you in his pocket as he shakes the elf around furiously.

“No--! please don't eat him, he just-- Let us go, he has nothing to do with this!” You tug against the giant’s button up, watching your elf companion swing around his needle-like sword at the  giant holding him up by his collar. 

The giant laughed, eyes crinkling as his chiseled chest bumped against your back.

“Don't fret sweet faerie, I’m not so brutal as to consume a creature like this raw; by all means, he’s coming home with us. How long he lasts- that's up to you.”

The giant stood from his crouched position on the grassy knoll, heavy boots digging into the grass to make muddy imprints. He dangled the elf out forward, watching as the poor creature sweat bullets while looking at you helplessly.

“Let my faerie-- go!” The tiny voice felt so far away, different than the usually grating elf’s voice you were accustomed to getting frightened by.

The giant places his fingers into his shirt pocket, nudging you with them in a powerful caress. 

“You'll remain my little darling-- while our elf friend here, remains where he belongs-- in the pigpen. Together, we can find a punishment suitable for him.”

You didn’t like the sound of that. With one heavy foot in front of the other, the giant started toward a thatched roof cabin in the grassy distance. 

[ilkwrdthngsdntjudge]

A take on a reddit story i watched to a minecraft parkour video on tiktok:

humans and the Geneva convention.

oftentimes, animals, naturally, don't exactly hunt for sport, you know? except dolphins (and i'm sure, some other animal i'm probably missing) but dolphins are blood thirsty and not the sweet, loveable creatures in thought them to be when i was more naive and weak.

naturally (usually) animals wouldn't really hunt for sport, not like humans do. sure some animals do stalk their prey and enjoy instilling the ingrained feeling of dread and fear in said prey from their stalking, but they don't mass hunt, right?

off track; humans and the geneva convention.

with sentience comes opinions. and with opinions comes other's opinions which do not align with your own. thus, conflict, yada yada, you know the rest. (war, usually. that is the rest.)

so when humans had a War, and the War was horrible and huge and there were So Many deaths, the humans made up (hah) and created what is known to us as the Geneva convention.

to those who do not know what the geneva convention is, i shall explain, but please do not take my pitiful explanation for its pure definition and please do some research.

the Geneva Convention is an agreement that is upheld by any and all nations participating in any sort of lethal conflict (war). the basic of this agreement are these; civilians must not be purposely harmed or captured in conflicts; medical personnel are not to be purposefully targeted in conflicts; and POWs (prisoners of war) must not be killed or treated super badly (i'm not completely sure about the accuracy of this one, but i think it should be in the geneva convention if it isn't already).

to stop my waffling on, the geneva convention is an important Rule of War (as not all is fair in thus and love) and any party (not the fun kind, usually) participating in conflict should abide by these rules.

it's funny, because we have those rules! like, we as a species are so merciless, that when we looked at how many deaths there were after That One War, we all came to a world-wide, nation wide, agreement (where we can't even agree to accept our own people, no less) not to kill who do not need to be killed.

animals have no such rules in their "wars".

would aliens?

it would stand to understand that with sentience comes opinion, and opinion births conflict, but are aliens alike to us in such a way that they would have their Own Geneva Convention?

would they need it? or are they a species more logical, less fiery? or, perhaps, are we humans too heartless, where aliens find only empathy for lives lost?

Who are we, as Humans (Homo Sapiens, Terrans,) to have such Rules for War?

Why, we are the ones who would have no such qualms, eliminating the enemy if our rules were to be exempted. We are those who do not hesitate to kill ourselves. What makes you think we'll hesitate to destroy you?

No Geneva Convention?

Good luck, then.

[galedekarios]

the netherese orb: consequences for gale and his connection to magic

i wrote a post a while ago focusing on the physical ailments that the orb was causing gale, and i had a really interesting exchange with another user on it:

@dark-videogamer: I just noticed it myself, which for me implies that as the orb is consuming his weave, his life essence, it's also refusing to allow that part of the body to properly heal, like he's always internally bleeding or it's infected. (at least in my opinion) which makes me wonder how irreparable the damage is there. @galedekarios: i actually do have a post coming up on that! i want to focus on what the orb does to his magical ability in that post because i focused more on the physical aspect here. of course, they sort of go hand in hand for a wizard to a certain degree, but there are a few hints in the game. anyhow, sorry for rambling! i very much agree with you! it's def either is still consuming gale's own gifts and i think that's a reality he has to face after it's removed.

so this further inspired because i actually wanted to use this opportunity to look at how the orb might be affecting gale's magic / casting ability.

general stuff & how the physical impairments affect the casting of spells

first off, i want to note that both of these are of course intrinsically linked, not least of all because the orb is affecting everything a caster class needs to cast spells:

-general biological deterioration -muscle spasms -ringing in the ears -disorientation -concentration issues -varying levels of physical discomfort / pain

aside from the obvious things that would impair a caster (deterioriation, disorientation, pain, discomfort), concentration is incredibly important to maintain a spell. muscle spasms, too, would absolutely interfere with the somatic component of a spell:

The somatic component was a basic part of spellcasting. Many spells required the caster to make a motion to cast the spell. If the caster was unable to make the correct motion, the spell could not be cast.

i could add more here, of course, but i think it's fairly obvious how all of these mix together into something that would leave a wizard defenseless, and again, gale admits as much, too:

player: i fail to see why you need me to help you this. you’ve done fine without me so far. gale: A fair point - however, until recently I was able to rely on a supply of artefacts stored in my tower in Waterdeep. A supply that has now run dry. The reality of the matter is that a lone wizard with a chronic impairment such as my own is not in the most ideal of situations with regards to self-defence. The manner of artefacts I need are not often found waiting patiently on a shop-keep’s shelf. One usually has to lift them delicately from trap-filled tombs or prise them from the hands of violent ne'erdowells.

the orb

but what consequences did the orb itself have?

we have several lines in the game, where characters are surprised that the orb didn't outright kill gale. gale himself knows this and the imagery we get when gale opens his mind to the protag and shares his story is incredibly violent:

the orb didn't kill him outright and it was a miracle that it didn't, both gale and mystra acknowledge this in-game.

but it left him incredibly weakened and with a condition that could still kill him if left untreated, as well as those around him.

what it did do instantly, however, is that it did consume his gifts.

again, both gale and mystra acknowledge this in-game:

Gale: Is that why you lied to me about the Crown of Karsus? Self-preservation? Mystra: My concern was the preservation of everything. The Karsite Weave could tear apart the very fabric of the Material Plane. That it entered your body and consumed no more than your powers was a miracle. But we will not be granted another. The only reason the 'orb' sleeps is because I have allowed it to feed on the true Weave - a temporary measure, but one that will not be enough to save us.

Gale: It sounds like the door to redemption is open at last. All I have to do is walk through it, carrying the Crown of Karsus. Player: Is that what you want? Gale: Perhaps. I see few other options open to me, if I ever want to reclaim those parts of myself the orb snatched away. If I ever want to be me again. Player: We're going to cure you Gale: Thank you. There aren't many I'd trust to stand beside me on such a journey. Fewer still who would do so because they believe I deserve such a chance.

so what are these gifts that were consumed exactly?

in early access, there used to be a scene with gale in act i that was commonly known as the loss scene, where he would be found in camp, cursing as he tries to cast a spell that he was once able to:

Gale: Khat-Tsjin Deth-Thra! Tav [Wizard]: That was a failed spell if ever I heard one.  Gale: Failure. You'd think I'd be used to it by now. It’s getting late. I think I’ll turn in. Perhaps some sleep will do me good. Tav: Is something wrong? Gale: Let’s just say not all is right. But that goes for all of us. Tav [Wizard]: I didn't recognize your hand gestures. What spell were you trying to cast? Gale: A bygone spell from a bygone age. It doesn't matter. Tav [weave romantic]: Come, you know I care about you. I showed you when we shared that spell [CHECK wizard] Gale: So you did. Very wel. Just now, I was trying to cast a spell I once cast with ease, but I failed. You see, this fire – there was a time that I could make it come alive. That it would take the shape of a dragon and roar in delight. There was a time I could silence a Beholder with a word, and lift a tower from its foundations with a flourish. There was a time I was all but one with the Weave. But no more – a mere shadow of the wizard I used to be. Why? Because I’ve lost. Tav: I don’t understand. What is it that you’ve lost? Gale: I’ve lost… Tav: [Insight] Go on. Every burden is easier to carry when shared. Gale: An apt enough observation.  I've... lost... Mystra. I sought to impress her personally. Tav: Another fool pays for his arrogance. A tale as old as time. Gale: Arrogance? Ambition, rather. And ambition is a fine thing – until suddenly it no longer is. Then again, if that is how you judge me, there’s little I can do to change your mind. But know that I have this ambition still. First to save myself, and after that, the licence to dream. (Gale Disapproval)

this insight in just how great the magnitude of his loss in power as a wizard and, intrinsically linked to that, his ability as a wizard is entirely absent in the full release of the game.

while we do know that he was an archmage and we also know that he was a chosen of mystra, with all the gifts that may have entailed, we only get a very vague mention of the lost gifts and gale being a former shadow of who he used to be.

abilities of the chosen of mystra include:

Chosen of Mystra gained many benefits from her blessing. They held a greater command over spell, being able to cast even the highest tiers repeatedly. Doing so, however, was not encouraged by Azuth and Mystra (Midnight), as it required repeatedly tapping upon the weave. They also became more familiar with magic and able to detect its presence. In addition, many also developed immunities to magic, and eventually even immunities to disease and poison. They become much more hardy, showing a toughness uncharacteristic of most mages. Mystra's Chosen were also immune to the deleterious effects from the casting and wearing of a mantle: they suffered no loss of health or the removal of spells from their minds upon the raising of a mantle or the cumulative daily requirement of the spell. The Chosen also wielded silver fire, a unique raw magic that conjured a silvery flame with a variety of functions.

[source]

other interesting bits and pieces:

Chosen age, albeit slowly, and as they age their power becomes closer to equivalent level mortal wizards. They can steal bodies to prolong their lifespan, but if they choose not to they eventually die and return to the Weave until Mystra makes them a new body. Chosen still have access to Silver Fire and can manipulate their hair freely. Mystra has imposed restrictions on magic in some cases, such as making it physically painful to read minds. This applies to using weave-work to communicate long distance with 'regular' humans. Chosen have the ability to communicate to the weave-ghosts of other Chosen as well as living Chosen, but rarely seek to interrupt the lives of each other. Laeral can speak across distance with Storm, Alustriel and even Halaster. Chosen still don't need to sleep, but do need to enter Reverie to replenish their energy.

[source]

again, this is all not really mentioned in the game and it's sad because again, it adds a lot of context to gale as a character. the most that is hinted at, i believe, is elminster's incredibly long lifespan of several hundreds of years.

conclusion / consequences of removing the orb

this is just speculation on my part, so feel free to ignore this completely.

apart from the chronic ailments, we know from the arcane hunger status that the orb feeds on gale's very soul and that both gale and mystra acknowledge that the orb has consumed already gale's greatest gifts as a wizard.

we also know that tara and gale were not able to figure out immediately how to treat the orb after gale was afflicted by it. it was tara, who in their combined research, figured it out and it took them some time to do so.

on top of that, we know that gale had to live without said treatment for a while since he no longer had any magical items to consume and, in fact, i speculated it's a part of the reason why he may have left waterdeep behind and was captured on the nautiloid.

all this time, the orb was left with nothing to consume, with nothing to feed on, except what was within gale to give and the orb is ever-hungry.

i feel like this surely would have consequences even after the orb is rendered inert and then, later, implied to be removed by mystra:

one of the sadder outcomes could very well be that his ability to cast spells is permanently diminished or entirely cut off.

Thus comes the question: what is the Weave? It is an essential element of the universe. It runs through everything in unseen threads. It is what makes magic possible. — Excerpt from Magic of the Weave - An Introduction.

with the orb inside of him, left untreated for long intervals, it may have consumed a lot of gale's own weave, something that runs through all living souls, his ability to cast magic might be even smaller and weaker than now.

at best, it will take him some time after the game to recover, back home in waterdeep, with tara, with morena and a romanced protag and new friends.

at worst, and, with the knowledge that the orb consumed so much upon first entering his body, it may also be a possibility that gale could be stripped of magic entirely, but that's quite a cruel fate for him, someone who says that magic is their life.

[rozeliyawashereyall]

Fae Lynette because I can

And this lil doodle I made while totally not sleep deprived

They're very silly

Embarrassed sigh... editing just to tag @dayspriteofficial since Marco is involved...shy sigh...

[foxcort]

listen its not that tamlin locking feyre in a manor is ‘not a big deal’. its that sjm parallels tamlin and rhysand way too much for rhysand to be a viable, healthy option for feyre.

rhys put a whole city under a lockdown so severe people forgot about its existence (and from what the wiki says, the city was kept hidden for centuries even before, for the safety of its citizens) but tamlin locking feyre in a manor, so she wouldn’t follow him into an unsafe situation was crossing a line?

[artthoufruity]

Americans can come up with the most idiotic and outright disrespectful things imaginable so effortlessly. I saw a post about an American "witch" claiming that she saw a "Celtic fae" in her back garden (in TEXAS) "picking flowers and eating berries" and the next day her husband told her she was "speaking gaelic in her sleep" (her words) first things first the Irish language is called Gaeilge NOT gaelic, gaelic is an adjective essentially we use it in things like gaelic football etc, secondly I can guarantee she did not see a fae in Texas??? Like that should be common sense??

Thirdly faes and fairies are VERY different things, if you're going to pretend to be knowledgeable on Celtic legends and lore at least know the bare minimum, faes are not friends, they are not a force to be reckoned with, if you somehow meet and annoy a fae it can and most probably will harm you and everything you love both physically and mentally.

And I know I can't be nitpicky but if you are going to use Irish words in your vocabulary please for the love of life at least try and pronounce it right, wtf is belt-tane (bhealtain) and Fawm-hair (fomhair)

Our language and culture is not you magical, fairy, witch aesthetic or lifestyle, it is genuinely disrespectful. We have such a rich, beautiful history and it's so easy to learn and talk about it in a respectful way, infact I think everyone should learn actually Irish/Scottish/Welsh history because it helped shape many things in our world e.g religion and fairytales.

If anyone who sees this wants to know more about Ireland or Celtic history/folklore or lore please ask me I'd love to share

[starandcloud]

A collection of my favorite Hiccup GIFs

I DON'T THINK YOU ALL UNDERSTAND THE FUCKIN CHOKEHOLD THIS MAN HAD ON LIKE- 12 YEAR OLD ME- AND STILL HAS ALMOST SIX YEARS LATER-

I WANT TO PUNCH HIM IN THE FACE SO FUCKING BAD /l

HE HAS SUCH A PRETTY AND PUNCHABLE FACE I-

[catzgam3rz]

I would like to thank the Witch Craft SMP for gifting me a reason to draw Ihascupquake fanart in the year of our lord 2023

[faetaiity]

Man I ain’t EVER taking long lasting melatonin again, I get it, it’s LONG LASTING

BUT WHY IS MY ASS STILL TIRED FROM IT 24 HRS LATER? THIS ISN’T NORMAL TIREDNESS FOR ME BRUH 😭

[gwyns]

"we need more angry and complex female characters!" you guys can't even handle bryce quinlan

[faecaptainofdreams]

Oh my god, just work on your art, Fae. Just work on your fucking art. You have so many things ready to edit and they’re not even that difficult, literally just sit on your ass and work on it. Work on the art, Fae. Do it! Work on the fucking ART! JUUUST!!! DO IT!!!

WORK ON THE FUCKING ART, FAE!

FUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUCK

[tabbbbyyyy]

Why do I kinda want the fairies in tlos and atom to be just that bit less human looking? Like it would be so much cooler if they were more like fae creatures than sparkly humans.

ik the whole "secretly a fairy" thing that atom had going on at the start dosent work as well like that SO I propose they have a second form with all that fae shit. Granted we all already draw them with pointy ears n that cos it's just so much better, but I want full creature. Gimme them FANGS ok, I want it FERAL.

[acemdzsfan]

Why exactly is it that people think "old disney villains" that had no redeeming qualities, or fleshed out backstories were better? That does not make them better. In fact, it makes them either less interesting or just has it fall flat.

When I look for a story, I want the villain to be real. To show us the reasons why they came to this path. Why do they do the things they do? What's the motivation behind it? Is there a possibility that I could do the same things in their position?

A villain needs to have layers to be interesting. Good villains should make you think about your own behaviors and motivations and where they can change.

To just have a villain that is pure evil for no reason is only seen from one dimension. One perspective. It may move the story along, but does it add to it?

And, as obvious from the sheer amount of fanfiction exploring the backgrounds and motivations from old villains, people have an inherent curiosity as to the other side of the story.

Every single one of them has their own story, their own motivations, emotions, dreams, wants, needs. It's so.... grr. Don't water them down to "pure evil" when you are not considering them as a person too.

The story changes with the consideration of these things.

[llondonfog]

Have you heard of the song My Love Mine All Mine by Mitski? It's such a Lilia and Silver song I gotta recommend if you haven't heard!

Moon, tell me if I could Send up my heart to you? So, when I die, which I must do Could it shine down here with you? My baby, here on earth Showed me what my heart was worth So, when it comes to be my turn Could you shine it down here for her? Nothing in the world belongs to me But my love mine, all mine, all mine

you mean the mitski song that i imagine them waltzing to alone in that little forest cottage under the moonlight on silver's eighteenth birthday yes i know that song :))