#fae's oc

[thechangeling]

The Seasons Change Part 2

Tiberius: Fall

I meant to most this earlier but life happened. However, technically the end of November is still fall so we're good. If you're wondering what this series is about exactly, I recommend checking part 1 where I posted an explanation.

This is for Rory, my fellow fall lover.

There’s a certain ease in Ty’s breathing, a lightness in his chest in fall. As soon as it begins to get darker earlier, and the leaves change colour and begin to fall from the trees, he instantly feels freer, more at peace.

 Fall is sacred. It always has been. From the smell of the rain on the dying leaves, to drinking tea with cinnamon on the steps of the institute, to the anticipation surrounding halloween, he and Livvy’s favorite holiday. They used to love going to the pumpkin patch to pick one out to display in front of the institute. Helen used to argue it was pointless, seeing as there would be no trick or treaters coming to their door, but she eventually relented. Their mother used to take them when they were little, until she was too sick to take them anywhere, and Andrew Blackthorn made it very clear how he thought halloween was a ridiculous concept. Mundanes dressed up as what they thought were fake creatures and monsters, whilst they were completely and utterly oblivious to the real downworlders and demons living amongst them, and to the shadowhunters that kept them safe. 

So Helen had been responsible for taking Julian, the twins, Emma and Drusilla to the pumpkin patch for a few years, until she was banished to Wrangel island and Julian took over for her. Livvy loved stomping around in the mud with her big rubber boots, and had even started a few mud fights with Drusilla over the years. However they both knew that throwing mud at Ty was absolutely prohibited. He hated the feeling of it on his skin. But he enjoyed watching his sisters running around madly chucking dirt at each other’s faces. It was fairly entertaining.

When Ty was younger he would always feel badly for all the deformed and rotting pumpkins and try and bring them home, much to his siblings horror and displeasure. Julian would patiently explain to him that they had to pick a pumpkin that they could reasonably carve without it falling apart on them or running out of space. As if Ty simply wasn’t aware of that. He was. He just hated the idea of all those lone rejected pumpkins being left there to rot because nobody wanted them, because they were too broken to be loved. 

Maybe there was a metaphor in there somewhere. He wasn’t an idiot. 

They hadn’t celebrated Halloween properly until after they lost their father, Helen, and Mark, and Julian had allowed them to be exposed to more mundane media, movies and tv shows which had brought on Drusilla’s horror movie obsession. Their parents had discouraged them from eating candy as they argued it was too unhealthy for shadowhunters, and they forbad them from trick-or-treating. Julian wasn’t thrilled about the idea of them trick-or-treating, but he did buy them candy from the grocery store, and allowed them to dress up in Halloween costumes every year. Ty wasn’t as enthusiastic about the dressing up part, but Livvy absolutely loved it so he had tolerated it for her. There were so many situations where that was the case. 

And then of course there was their birthday. 

Ty used to love it. It was his and Livvy’s day, the symbol of the fact that they came into this world together, that they were connected in ways that none of their other siblings were. He used to love the process of giving Livvy her gift and watching her face brighten with a gleeful smile, no matter what it was. Because the gift was from him.

That would never happen again. 

Livvy thankfully was still with him, as he had managed to bring her back in ghost form, but they would never be able to celebrate their birthday together in the same way. She would never age, but he would. 

So Ty had resolved to simply ignore it. Just like he had ignored halloween. He wasn’t allowed home until the winter break anyways. 

He was currently sitting by his window, picking the white paint off the surrounding windowsill and watching the rain pour down outside. His headphones were blasting Ethel Cain’s Preacher’s Daughter for what was possibly the 50th time now, but he didn’t want to miss any potential details. Livvy was quietly floating in the background, just out of the corner of his eye. She most likely had sensed that he wanted peace and quiet even if he wasn’t sleeping, which was true. She had always been impeccable at interpreting his moods. Part of being twins, he supposed. 

Ty was also distinctly ignoring the fact that today was November 18th. From now on, it was just like any other day. Livvy had attempted to change his mind multiple times, even resorting to pleading, but Ty wouldn’t concede.

 How could it be his birthday if it wasn’t Livvy’s? 

Ty checked his clock. It was 2 in the morning. He should really try to get some sleep, even if he had been unsuccessful so far tonight. This wasn’t unusual for him lately since he was attempting to spend the next month sober at Livvy’s request. After he had very nearly arrived late to an exam, hungover after a night of binge drinking he had reluctantly agreed to a small bout of sobriety, at least until he had gotten through his midterms. Livvy had been wanting him to give up drinking all together for months now, but that was impossible. His current insomnia was proof of that, among other things. 

He considered reading some more of the book Dru had lent him. She had convinced him to join the makeshift book club she and her friend Thais had started, with the promise of reading mystery novels. Ty was grateful, seeing as he wasn’t certain he could stomach reading the romance novels they had been giggling over during the summer every time they talked on the phone or over video chat. They had thankfully moved onto horror novels in October for the Halloween season, but Ty still gravitated towards mysteries. 

However, this one was currently proving lackluster. Ty had already guessed the ending within the first few chapters and now the rest of the novel was unfortunately feeling like a slog. 

Oh well, it was better than nothing. He wasn’t actually in the mood to re-read Sherlock Holmes. It would simply bring up too many uncomfortable and conflicting memories and emotions. He slid down off the windowsill and picked up the book off his neatly organized wooden nightstand. There was an alarm clock with a stack of books he was planning to read beside it, organized by priority from top to bottom. His phone sat on the other side of his alarm clock, closest to the wall so it could be charged. He let the music continue to play through his wireless headphones as he rearranged himself into a comfortable but practical reading position, which was a feat in and of itself. Livvy gave him a small smile, which he returned.

Just when Ty had managed to settle and pick up where he had left off in the story, there was a frantic knock on his door. 

“Ty are you awake?” Anush’s voice carried through the door. “I’m sorry, but we need you. It’s sort of an emergency.” 

Ty bit back the urge to groan, and shut his book. “Yes, what is it?” 

Anush took that as a sign to open the door and rush in. He was in his pajamas and he looked as if he was not fully awake. “Sorry I know it’s late,” he lowered his voice slightly. “But I was on my way to the bathroom and that werewolf girl, you know the one who's helping us with the case? She’s sort of..freaking out.” 

This time Ty made no effort to contain his long sigh. Alyssa Reyes was the girl in question, and the case was the murder of one of the werewolves of her pack, which Maia had requested the Scholomance’s involvement in, given the obscure details of the situation. It was meant to just be the graduated Centurions involved in the investigation, but Ty had requested specifically to be included in the investigation as a way to demonstrate his knowledge, and receive practical experience in a real life setting. He was already receiving high marks in all his classes but it never hurt to aim higher and work harder, especially when Ty found the material engaging. 

Your liver would disagree, Livvy had argued. 

Ty paid her no mind. School wasn’t the reason he drank, not in the least. 

Ty strained his sleep-addled brain for a way to phrase what he was about to say without potentially offending Anush, but quite frankly he was too exhausted and exasperated to care. 

“Why are you telling me this? Why not just wake Professor Fell and tell him to contact the New York pack?” Ty ran his fingers through his hair, fingers tugging on the slight waves. 

Anush looked a little sheepish. “I don’t think he would appreciate being woken up in the middle of the night and I don’t particularly feel like dealing with an angry warlock. Besides I figured this is more your area of expertise anyway.” 

Ty furrowed his brows in confusion. “Why? I barely know her. And I can’t stand her.” This last part was probably unnecessary to mention, however, it was true. Ty was at the end of his rope when it came to dealing with Alyssa. She was a brat, she was temperamental and aggressive, sometimes bordering on rude, and she gave off the impression that she was always uncomfortable and annoyed by everyone around her, but always insisted that she was fine. 

Anush let out a snort. “Yeah well, despite that. I think when you see her you’ll get why I wanted your help.” He rubbed his face in exhaustion. “Just, please Ty? Please come with me?” 

He shot a quick look over at Livvy, trying not to appear too obvious and alert Anush that something was amiss. She shrugged. 

“You should probably go. I can wait here. It’s fine.” 

Ty sighed. Well it wasn’t like he was sleeping anyways. 

XXXX

Almost instantly as he and Anush made their way down the dark corridors, using the flashlight on Ty’s phone to illuminate their path, he could hear the sounds of what was causing Anush’s concern. Broken gasping sobs that began to grow louder and louder as they approached the end of the hallway. Ty had the urge to slip his headphones over his ears to block the sound, but he suspected it wouldn’t be helpful for dealing with the situation. As they rounded several corners and finally approached what appeared to be their destination, an abandoned classroom that was no longer used, he could hear a loud thumping sound accompanying the sobs. Ty wanted to check Anush’s face for any indication to what he was meant to be interpreting from this situation, but it was impossible to see in the pitch black. 

Seeing no point in delaying, Ty pulled the door to the study open and was met with a flood of light, and a sight that genuinely brought a chill to his blood. The room looked like a bomb had gone off. Desks and bookshelves were overturned, the ground was littered with books, loose papers, pencils and broken glass. He realized in horror that the source of said broken glass was one of the windows which now had a hole in it. 

And in the middle of the disaster, almost as if she was the centerpiece of an abstract art exhibit, was Alyssa Reyes curled up into a ball on the floor. She was slowly banging her head back against the wall almost rhythmically and digging her fingernails into her forehead, pulling at the roots of her hair.

“Holy fuck,” Ty whispered, unable to conjure any other words at the moment. 

“Yeah, I was hoping you would know what to do since it looks like she’s having a meltdown.” Anush replied softly.

Ty shook his head slowly in disbelief. “I’ve never destroyed a room like this before.” 

It was true that he had wrecked some havoc in the midst of meltdowns as a child, especially when his father was killed. He even used to bash his head back against the wall just as Alyssa was now. Helen and Mark, and later Julian would put their jackets or pillows behind his head in an effort to cushion the blows. Eventually as he matured they had realized he needed to redirect the stimuli somewhere else, either by applying pressure around him or by giving his things to stim with. Although they hadn’t known what it was at the time. And Ty was too young to explain it.

At this moment Alyssa seemed to become aware of their presence and her dark brown eyes narrowed in wild fury, fresh tears pouring from them. 

“Fuck you” she sputtered out, her breath hitching. “Get out.” 

Ty tried not to take her aggression personally , seeing as he could often be combative and irrational when he was having a meltdown. However, it was difficult to be sympathetic when most of Alyssa’s day-to-day behavior wasn’t any better. 

“I’m here to help you!” Ty protested, slowly moving towards her. He noticed that she had stopped hitting her head and appeared to now be putting all her energy towards pulling out her hair and yelling at him. 

She let out a garbled sound that was impossible for Ty to decipher and shook her head. “Bullshit,” she sobbed. “You don’t care about me. You don’t care about her. We’re not even people to you.” She wiped her eyes frantically, but it was futile as a fresh batch of tears formed.  “Just an assignment, or a way for you to like, get your fucking deploma in what ever the fuck this is! She’s dead, but nobody cares! We just get picked off and it means nothing!” 

So this was about the dead werewolf. Niyah was her name, Ty recalled. And he could see why she felt that way. But that didn’t mean he didn’t care.

He slowly fell to his knees in front of her. “You mean something,” he said carefully. “Everyone means something. This matters to me.” He reached for her hands slowly. “Please.” 

Alyssa shook her head again and slapped his hand away. “No! You don’t understand.” She began scratching at her arms, dragging her long nails across her light brown skin. 

She was right. He didn’t understand. Not exactly. But he was used to this feeling. 

“What don’t I understand, Alyssa?” 

She let out a watery scoff. “Everything. Everything’s so wrong. This world is fucked. And I can’t handle it anymore. I can’t handle the suffering, the injustice, the fucking noise. Like, it’s all so much, it’s so heavy and I feel everything! I feel all of it and I can’t shut it off.” She rested her head against her knees and rubbed her forehead against the material of her jeans. “And I hate you! I hate everyone all the time and I don’t know how to stop!”

Ty didn’t know what to say to that. He wasn’t notoriously the best at comforting people. But he wanted to try. Something about this girl falling apart in front of him made him want to try and reach for her, even if she would just slap his hand away and snarl. 

He turned to Anush who was still awkwardly waiting in the doorway. 

“Can you go to my room and get my stuffed bumblebee? It should be on my bed.”

Anush nodded almost eagerly. Perhaps he was grateful to be given something else to do. 

Ty turned back to face Alyssa who was still resting her head on her knees and curled in on herself in a protective ball, hair falling around her face like a dark obsidian vail. 

“I promise you I’m going to figure out who killed the member of your pack. It won’t bring her back, but it will hopefully bring you some closure.” 

Alyssa raised her head at that, her eyes red and swollen and strangely unexpressive. 

“People make promises all the time. They pretty much never keep them.” 

Ty shook his head furiously. “I keep my promises. I assure you. I know what it feels like to be deceived. To be let down. But I will do everything in my power not to let that happen.”

And he meant it. When Ty decided he was going to do something, he didn’t change his mind. He didn’t back down, and he certainly didn’t let the desperate words of some boy persuade him otherwise. 

He mentally shoved that final thought back down where it belonged. Far away out of reach.

“Why?” Alyssa’s voice sounded hoarse and drained of life. “Why do you care?” 

Ty shrugged. “Because I do.”

Alyssa rolled her eyes. “That’s not a fucking answer.” 

“Well it’s the only one I have, and it’s the truth.” 

He heard the sound of Anush’s steps rushing back towards the open-doored classroom, but he kept his gaze on Alyssa. She wasn’t making eye contact with him which wasn’t a surprise, and he was grateful. But she was staring at his face pensively. 

“I just can’t take anymore disappointment right now,” she said softly. Ty wanted to ask her what she meant by that but Anush cleared his throat, signaling his arrival.

“Here.” He held out the bumblebee plushie to Ty. If he seemed confused by Ty asking for it, Ty couldn’t tell. 

Ty bit his lip as he fidgeted with one of the bumblebees wings. “I thought you might want to hold onto this for a minute,” he told Alyssa. It used to help me a lot when I was younger when I had meltdowns. It still comforts me to hold sometimes.” He hoped he didn’t sound ridiculous. “I don’t want you to keep hurting yourself.” He gestured to her arms.

Alyssa was silent for a moment and Ty began to worry he had made a severe miscalculation, but then she slowly reached for the bumblebee, pulling it into her arms and squeezing tight. 

“What’s their name?’ 

“Oh. I actually never named them,” Ty admitted. For some reason he had never considered naming the stuffed insect, even when he was a child.

Alyssa looked at him incredulously. “Seriously?”

“Uh..” Anush chimed in. “Sorry to interrupt but i’m pretty exhausted. So, Ty if you don’t need me I'm gonna go.” 

Ty felt a pang of guilt at the realization that he had almost forgotten about Anush. “Yeah I should be alright. Thank you for getting me.”

And he meant it, strangely. Not that he usually made a habit out of saying things he didn’t mean, but it was strange how he wasn’t bothered by Alyssa’s presence anymore. 

Anush took his leave and had the sense to close the door on his way out. 

Alyssa piped up soon afterwards. “Sorry. I didn’t mean to be a problem.”

Ty bristled at her wording. “You’re not a problem.” 

Alyssa sighed. “I mean, I don’t know. Sometimes it feels like it. Or everything else is, you know?” 

Ty’s heart sank. Yes. Yes he knew. 

“Like, my mom is on my case about school and my future and I can’t tell her about any of this stuff, and I’m trying to settle into my pack but I never fit in anywhere and I still feel so alone you know? And then there was this girl who was nice to me at least but then she was fucking murdered, and I just want things not to suck for once!” Alyssa gestured animatedly as she spoke. “I don’t know, do you ever feel like everything’s just too hard? Like what’s the point in trying?”

Ty swallowed hard as a memory came to him. Something ought to be easy for once. Everything can’t always be hard all the time. 

“I don’t know.” He replied honestly. He knew that wasn’t what he was supposed to say. He was supposed to say you keep going for your family, for making the world a better place, solving mysteries or watching good movies or whatever people cared about. 

But he didn’t say any of those things. 

“What should we call the bumblebee then?” 

Alyssa smiled faintly. “I think his name should be Theodore.” 

Ty snorted. “Oh so it’s a he is it?”

“Yup.”

“And why Theodore?”

Alyssa shrugged. “I don’t know. I didn’t wanna go for something obvious like Bumble, and I think he kinda looks like a Theodore.” 

Ty couldn’t help but smile. “Alright then.” 

They sat in a comfortable silence for a while. Ty almost considered putting Preacher’s Daughter back on but he figured that might be considered rude. But then again Alyssa might not care. 

“Sorry I was a bitch to you earlier by the way,” said Alyssa, fiddling with her hair. “I can be like that sometimes. It’s not personal. I mean.. Usually.” 

Ty bit his lip to fight a laugh escaping his mouth. “It’s ok. I didn’t realize you were autistic.” He paused. “Hang on, that came out wrong.” 

Alyssa giggled. 

“What I mean to say is, I didn’t realize how you were struggling. I should have been more sympathetic. I’m sorry.” 

Alyssa sighed, rearranging Theodore in her lap. “It’s fine. Most people usually assume the worst from me. You’re kinda lucky people know you’re autistic just by looking. They don’t assume you’re just weird or an asshole.”

Ty shook his head. “Not shadowhunters. Most of us don’t know about autism. And most people do just assume the worst.” 

Alyssa bit her lip. “Sorry. At least it doesn’t seem to have affected your standing in this place much, I mean. Shit.” She gestured vaguely in his direction. “You’re like their golden prodigy or whatever. Like congrats Ty, you won academia for whatever the fuck that’s worth.” 

Ty can’t tell if she’s being sarcastic or making a joke, but either way the words leave a pit in his stomach. His gaze fell to the floor to offer an aura of protection. 

“Maybe. But, I’m not ok.” It’s scary to admit even though in theory it shouldn’t be. Not after everything Alyssa has already confessed and cried over. But it’s still difficult. “I think everyone always assumes I am. Or they assume if I’m not ok it means I need to be saved. But-” he paused. “I don’t know what I need.” He realized he was fidgeting with his fingers in his lap. “This is a different kind of not ok.”

“What do you mean?” Alyssa asked. Her voice sounded different then it had before in a way that was hard for Ty to pinpoint. Tired maybe. 

“I don’t know. I’m not just overwhelmed because the noise or lights are too much, or because my tag is making me want to rip my skin off. I’m not only sad because I've been rejected or because I've lost someone. Maybe sadness is part of it, but I don’t really know how I feel.” Ty swallowed. “I just know it isn’t right.” 

Ty surprisingly found himself wishing he could tell Alyssa about Livvy, and how she was here, but also not and how he worried about her. How she felt so far away now, not just physically in a material way but inside of him as well. Before he could always feel her right there in his chest, always making her presence known but now? It was like she was slipping away somehow. 

And then there was Kit.

No he definitely wasn’t mentioning Kit. 

“I just feel heavy,” he confessed, finally raising his gaze to her torso where she had her arms loosely wrapped around Theodore. 

 And drinking was really the only thing that made it feel better. 

Alyssa’s body shook slightly with her chuckle. “Yeah I think that’s just life.” 

Ty dug his fingernails into his palms.

 “Life is bullshit.” 

Alyssa was quiet for a moment. Ty peaked his gaze up at her face to check on her. Alyssa was staring at him without an obvious expression on her face. Ty couldn’t say for certain but she looked almost pensive. Or perhaps it was nothing. 

Then she smiled softly. It was the tiniest hint of lips curling upwards, but Ty caught it and felt strangely victorious. 

“What is it?”

Alyssa shook her head softly, “Oh, no. It’s just something I remembered. It’s nothing.” 

Ty was intrigued, but he didn’t want to pry. Alyssa would tell him if she wanted to. 

“Are you tired?” He asked. He wasn’t personally but he knew everyone else normally didn’t operate the same way he did. 

Alyssa’s face screwed up in contemplation for a minute. “Oh. I don’t even know anymore. I guess, yeah. But I don’t wanna go to sleep yet.” 

“Oh.”

“You can if you want!” She held Theodore out to him, and you can have your bumblebee back, sorry.” 

Ty shook his head. “No, you can keep him for a bit longer.” He almost made a mental note to get her one of her own for christmas if she celebrated, or her birthday, but that might seem too forward. They still technically didn’t know each other very well and Ty wasn’t sure what level of relationship you needed to reach with someone in order for it to be appropriate to give someone gifts. 

“I actually might stay up with you for a little longer, if that’s alright.”

“Oh,” Alyssa smiled faintly again and Ty tried to contain his growing excitement. “Sure. I could use some help cleaning this mess up anyways. Sorry, by the way.” 

Ty smirked for a second before he managed to bite it down. “No, it's fine. I can help you.” He pulled himself to his feet, ignoring his tired muscles groaning in protest. 

With the two of them sweeping glass, (thankfully there was a broom and dustpan in the closet) sorting, and picking up everything Alyssa had knocked over or thrown, it didn’t take long to mostly return the classroom to its former glory. The one glaring issue was of course, the giant hole in the window. Ty would have to speak to Professor Fell about it tomorrow and hope Alyssa wouldn’t be in too much trouble. 

Once they were done, Ty finally collapsed back into a comfortable position on the floor and rested his back against the wall. He was itching to return to listening to Ethel Cain, so he pushed his headphones back over his ears and pressed play on the album. He watched Alyssa lower herself down beside him with a sigh as the first few notes of Sun Bleached Flies began to fill his ears. 

Alyssa stimmed with Theodore’s wings for a bit before she looked up at his face again, studying him. 

“Ty, can you hear me?”

He nodded. 

Alyssa scoffed. Handy autism superpower huh? I never got it, so, sucks to be me I guess.” 

Ty didn’t know what to say to that. He wasn’t sure if Alyssa was looking for sympathy or not. The song continued to play in his headphones, lyrics softly registering in the back of his mind.

“Anyways, I just wanted to thank you for everything, and for what you said about Niyah, if you meant it.”

“I did mean it,” Ty said forcefully. 

Alyssa stared at him, silent for a moment. Ty almost considered asking her if she was ok or if she was falling asleep with her eyes open somehow before she finally nodded. 

“Ok.” 

It was then that Ty was struck by a certain lyric as it played. He had listened to this song dozens of times before but now something felt different. Something hit him differently. 

God loves you, but not enough to save you.

So baby girl, good luck taking care of yourself.

He stared at Alyssa’s face, meters from his own. He was close enough now to notice the circles under her eyes and the tears in the skin of her lips from constant gnawing, worry lines embedded deep within her forehead. 

People make promises all the time.

I just want things to not suck for once. 

He had misjudged Alyssa. And now he found himself, not only feeling the absence of the ire and resentment he had previously harbored towards her, but experiencing something very different now when he looked at Alyssa Reyes. 

And Ty was intimately familiar with this feeling. He felt it when Mark would lash out in distress and Helen looked so helpless. Every time he saw Julian exhausted, having to shoulder the weight of taking care of the family at such a young age, he felt it when he saw Tavvy cry or when Dru looked so defeated. He felt it when Livvy was stabbed. 

He felt it when Kit curled in on himself, when he wouldn’t talk, wouldn’t explain. And then he just lashed out and left. 

But in the end, if I bend under the weight that they gave me, you know this heart would break and fall twice as hard.

He didn’t know what to do with it. Not the growing feeling of warmth in his chest that had ended so badly last time, and not Alyssa’s pain. He didn’t know how to help. If there was something concrete he could solve like the murder of her packmate, or figuring out how to resurrect his sister from the dead then that was simpler. 

But this?

Human connection was complicated. Frightening. Turbulent. Rarely ended well for him. It was why he was doing his best to keep Anush at a distance. They were friendly, and Ty was fond of him, but exploring that led down a potentially dangerous road. 

Alyssa made a little noise that startled him out of his deep contemplation as she leaned back against Theodore, propping him between her head and the wall and using him as a pillow. Her eyes fluttered closed as her body sagged. 

She was going to have such a sore neck when she woke up. 

Oh well. Ty didn’t have the heart to move her. She actually looked quite peaceful. 

Against his better judgement he took off his hoodie and balled it up on the floor to use as a pillow, laying down gingerly next to Alyssa. 

Ty tried not to worry about how dirty the floor was. 

That was a problem for tomorrow. 

Tiberius Nero Blackthorn (and Livia Blackthorn)

Born November 18th 1997

Scorpio Sun, Capricorn Rising, and Virgo Moon

"Scorpios are difficult to get to know, and impossible to forget"

-Unknown

Tagging @the-bee-graveyard @grrrl-help @petalsofaflower-shutupthomas @littlx-songbxrd @arangiajoan @spooky-drusilla @wagner-felll

[runmienn]

King of spring and fairies

[japhers]

icy peepaw

[girberta]

GIVE ME MORE FAE'S TWST AHHHHH

[lemongrace]

a spring faerie

[gawki]

Euphoria

~When you turn to the side and see your new chest for the first time~

[tsuutarr]

Yandere!Fairy x Reader

“Ack! You scared me!” you exclaim as Cot suddenly appears in front of your face. His laugh sounds like twinkling bells as he settles himself on your shoulder. “Seriously… How do you keep popping out of nowhere?”

Cot tries to talk to you, he does, but all you hear is the sound of bells as he chatters on. Though you’re insanely curious to know what he’s saying, it looks like you won’t be able to know how he’s able to appear everywhere you are.

With a small huff of laughter, you ruffle his hair with your fingers. “At least give me a warning the next time you appear. I swear you’re going to make me go into cardiac arrest.”

Cot lets out a series of chimes that sound like an apology as he nuzzles your hand. You can’t help but smile – your little fairy friend is adorable.

Your days continue rather peacefully, your most frequent company being Cot. Though you can’t talk to him, just having him around is fun.

On a particularly sunny day, you’re picking strawberries from your garden, which Cot is assisting you with. You thank him as he hands you a glass of water (he’s only a little bigger than the cup, which is such a cute sight). Once you’re done drinking your water, you let out a small sigh of contentment. “Seriously, thanks, Cot. I don’t know how you knew when to appear, but I couldn’t have harvested all these strawberries without you.”

“It’s no problem!”

You freeze, eyes widening. “...Did you just… speak?”

He smiles, eyes twinkling. “Mhm!”

Your mind is unable to process your little fairy friend’s voice, making you stumble over your words. “H–how?!”

With a small hum that sounds like bells, he says, “Hm… I guess you can say that I cast a spell on you!”

(And by spell, he means that he’s slowly given you food from the Fae Realm, eager to whisk you away once you’re more fae than human. But until then, the only real spell he’s cast on you is one that allows him to know exactly where you are. After all, he needs to make sure you’re safe until he can take you to his home.)

[taro-pdf]

Humans are space oddities: risk taking

Alien: the ship’s broken Prak, human, and the newest addition on board: so, are you going to fix it? Alien: I’d die in space! Are you crazy? Prak: ??? so would i, just put on a space suit? Alien: You mean that bag with only 16 layers between you and an environment that’d kill you?? Let’s just wait till we reach the next solar system. It’s only a week. Prak: no way, something could happen. I’ll just go out now. [goes out and fixes it] Alien: ???? Alien [writing in notebook]: humans do not fear the cold embrace of death. Prak [writing in notebook]: my crewmates are wimps.

Edit: for clarification, this alien is generalizing based off their experience with one human! Prak is both dumb and dislikes tasks being unfinished. My other humans, the ones not trained as astronauts (which prak isn’t either either lol) would not go out with only 16 layers separating them from the void of space

[deadeyedfae]

Me and @shaveyoureyebrows do a lil dance

[sutexii]

Going a little insane over my fae horror swan lake lesbians again specifically this song,,, so good for their dynamic,, how differently they view their faehood, both trying to convince each other,,, chairlift save me

[yandere-romanticaa]

Yandere Fae!, who keeps you hidden away deep inside his castle, away from any unnecessary prying eyes, be it human or the eyes of other immortals such as himself. Your meeting was one of chance and the years of fighting have taught him to cherish all the things he wishes to keep.

Keep your enemies close, but your friends even closer. That was his own personal spin on that old saying.

Yandere Fae!, who is just content with you being close. It does sting with how hard you try to escape but he is sure that his home will grow on you.

He is a lonely man. He has fought valiantly for his king, serving as a knight for his realm for ages. Many of his peers said to him that he ought to take on a human lover, or several if he so wished. While eternal life was tempting to many, the taste and vibrancy of humanity was too good to just be ignored. Humans always aim to please, which always made them such marvelous little lovers. He never understood how so many of his brothers and sisters fell head over heels for a human by simply glancing at them.

Yandere Fae!, who upon first seeing you all alone treading deep within his mortal domain, cannot help but to be smitten. You reek of sweat and sweetness, his pupils dilating dangerously as he pictures what it would be like to sink his teeth into your soft neck. He feels his wings fluttering behind his back, urging him to make a move.

Even from this current distance, he can sense the hot blood pumping through your veins, deceiving you into going straight into his arms. Gentle specks of magic dance carefully on his fingertips, the glow just barely visible in the lush green of the forest.

He may be immortal and eternally youthful but it all paled in comparison to how he felt about you.

Yandere Fae!, who showers you in endless silk and gold, also cannot help but to mess with you just a wee bit.

It's in his nature, he cannot help it.

His tricks keep you on the edge of your seat - will he trick you into thinking you're back home just to see how you'll react? Will he cast a completely different illusion on you? Will he put something inside of your food, forcing you to either dance or weep against your will?

It was horrifying, trying to keep up with all of that.

But, that was the nature of the Fae.

[ghouljams]

Nasty Dog

(cw: Fae!Soap x f!reader, pre-negotiated consent but not from you, groping, public sex, exhibitionism, dub-con oral(f!receiving), dub-con fingering, fae contracts)

The look you give your boss is nothing short of absolute malice.

Price does nothing but smile, before tossing the dress onto the bar and nodding at it more pointedly.

"Change." He orders.

"I'm not wearing that." You insist.

"Should've seen what he picked out first, be glad I talked 'im down." Price tells you; it doesn't make you feel any better. You still stare down the fabric on the bar and wonder if you could even consider that a dress or something closer to a long shirt.

An incentive, Price had called it, a reward for a job well done. You understand the concept, you just don't know why this has to involve you.

"He's gonna try to fuck me over the bar," You try appealing to reason. Price is a reasonable man, mostly, surely he wouldn't want his bartender unable to pour drinks.

"I'll keep hold of 'is leash." Price assures you. Somehow it isn't comforting. Not that you find anything about the man particularly comforting. He's a decent boss but no more trustworthy than any other fae you've dealt with. Still, if he says he'll keep Soap on a tight leash then that's what he'll do.

"Fine," You relent, "but if I even see his dick I'm quitting."

The threat holds no weight, you have a contract with these assholes, and you know better than to break it. Price still raises a brow, likely thinking the same thing. You grab the skimpy dress with a grumble and go to one of the back rooms to change.

Stupid sex club. Stupid faeries. Stupid job that you stupid need to pay your stupid fucking bills.

-

It's late into the night before Soap even shows up. You're so busy mixing drinks, pouring pints, and trying to tug down the back of your skirt, that you don't even notice him slip behind the bar.

You do notice him when you turn to grab the Aperol, and your eyes immediately flick to the tent in the front of his pants. You scowl when you meet his eye.

"Keep it in your pants," You tell him, doing your best to avoid touching him as you reach around him to grab the bottle.

He doesn't give you the same courtesy, reaching down to lift your skirt as you lean.

You yelp at the sudden exposure and immediately attempt to cover yourself again. Soap's hand is firm where he's got your skirt held, and though you tug at the edges your ass remains out. Soap clicks his tongue.

"Didnae give ya the panties like Ah asked."

You give up on tugging your skirt down in favor of twisting to push at him. You shove his hands, his chest, anything you can make contact with.

"Let go," You demand, feeling something awful warm when he drops to his knees.

"Don't mind me, bonnie." Soap hums, his hands dropping your skirt to grip your thighs. Your hands follow his and you bend to try to slide his hands off of you, only to feel his teeth against the swell of your ass. You stiffen, shooting back to your full height in an instant. You glance at Price across the room, and he holds his hand up with a smile.

Bastard. You can almost hear him telling you to get back to work.

You try to move to grab a new bottle, and Soap keeps you tightly in place. The only thing you can reach is the beer taps. You shoot a quick glare Price's way.

"Pints only for a minute," You tell the patrons seated on the other side of the bar, before you turn your attention back to Soap, "because that's all you're getting, one minute."

Soap doesn't respond except to shuffle closer between your legs and make himself comfortable. You grab a glass and tug the tap's handle to pour a pint for the man that slides up to the bar. Your eyes dart over him, assessing, and you switch to a cider over the lager you'd grabbed. You'd love to give him something with raspberry, maybe muddled with gin, light but stiff, but you're stuck.

Soap's tongue drags over the sleek silk of your panties, and you nearly drop the glass in shock. It takes all your self control to finish the pour, set it on the bar, and keep your face straight. His thumbs rub over your panties, spreading your clothed folds before he licks his tongue over you again. You shudder and push at his hands again, his grip feels like iron, his fingers digging into your thighs to a near painful degree.

The man on the other side of the bar gives you a strange look before retreating to some dark corner.

Another long lick followed by a deep groan, before he's peppering kisses over your ass and dragging your panties down to your knees. There's a measure of care to the press of his lips that you choose to ignore and then forget entirely when he bites your ass hard. You yelp and snap a hand over your mouth to keep from disturbing any of the men on the other side of the bar.

A placating kiss is planted on the fresh bite, and you twist to catch Soap's eye.

"Okay, that's a minute," You tell him, uncaring whether it is or not, "that's all you get."

"Ah dinnae agree tae that." Soap tells you, "Price says Ah have ya for the night."

Your gaze jerks to Price. Then around the bar. You can't find him. Is he even here? What happened to holding the leash?

You turn back to Soap and it feels like all the air has been punched out of you. He holds your gaze with those awful electric blues, and makes you watch him burry his face back between your legs. You twist back to the bar, your back twinging at how quickly your muscles tighten at the first touch of his tongue against your skin.

You grab another pint glass as one of the patrons on the edge of the bar grabs a stool in front of you. You need a distraction from the boiling anger you feel. So you can just be traded for favors? Given out like a prize for a job well done? What's next? He'll be selling you with the girls in the back rooms?

Heat slicks its way up your spine at the twist of Soap's tongue over your clit. Warmth slides back down to melt between your legs, pooling and tingling to following the steady flow of lapping. Over your cunt, between your folds, Soap's face held firm against you even as his hands slide to spread you apart. Waves of sensation that wear like a steady beat against the rocky beach of your self control.

Your hand shakes on the tap as you pour Guinness for a man that looks like he'd prefer a sour. The stout overflows, leaking down the glass and sliding over your fingers as a new wave of pleasure sinks under your skin. You don't bother drying your hand off, or apologizing, you barely get the pint on the bartop without cracking the glass.

The man gives you a once over as he takes it, and you grip the edge of the bar to try and gather your wits about you. You swallow down a sharp noise as Soap drags his tongue in strange familiar shapes over your clit. Your breathing feels uneven, and your hips push back into his touch without your brain telling them to.

It's all too hot, too wet, too focused, for you to keep a thought in your head. Your hands shake against the bar, fingers flexing open and closed with the overwhelming desire to grab and pull at the head between your thighs. You squeeze your eyes shut against the shot of pleasure that zips through you, tightening in your stomach before swirling between your ribs. You bend at the waist, pressing back, aching for more. Those strange familiar tracings are driving you mad.

(Johnny)

Each little flick and roll against your clit making your body shudder and react.

(Johnny)

Your cunt feels hot, electrified with the aching need that drips from it.

(Johnny)

His nose presses against your entrance, grinds teasingly against the wet hole until your breath is shuddering and you're halfway to begging him to fill you.

(Johnny, Johnny)

He pulls back to push his wiggling tongue into your cunt, and you nearly sob in relief. Your head feels like it's stuffed full of cotton, the throbbing pain behind your eyes is starting to recede back into the recesses of your mind. You hadn't even noticed it before it was gone.

Not that you notice its absence, not when your entire being seems to be focused wholly on the way your cunt stretches around Johnny's tongue. The warm wet muscle pokes and prods, wiggling and licking at your soft inner walls when it isn't fucking in and out of you like a promise.

A whimper leaves your lips when his tongue leaves you and drags another rough stripe over your cunt. It feels dangerous, loaded, intent. Some singular goal already accomplished, a deer finally shot allowing the hunter to feed, you almost feel Johnny smile.

You lean over the counter, the cold, wet, wood seeping into the thin fabric of your dress to cling to your skin. Despite the sudden chill your mouth falls open as Johnny sucks at your clit, his tongue rolling over the sensitive bud in crashing waves of pleasure. Your lashes flutter, your eyes roll, and the customer in front of you leans back on his stool. The soft moan that drops from your lips seems to roll like iron across the bar, making every patron pick up their glass in the vein hope of not looking like they're watching you.

Johnny doesn't break from his ministrations, shaking his head as he tries to press closer to you. The stubble along his jaw scratches at your thighs, and you try to swallow down some of the spit that's collecting on your tongue as he swipes broad strokes with his own through your slick folds.

One of the patrons reaches over the bar to touch your cheek, and when you flinch away Johnny growls. He pulls his mouth from your cunt only long enough to warn the man:

"Anyone touches 'er I'll have their heid."

The threat shouldn't send prickles of heat over your skin like it does. Not for the slow way that Johnny puts his mouth on you again, a low growling hum as his lips close around your clit that rocks little jolts of heat through you. His tongue flicks tight short licks against the sensitive bud and each one seems to build a crescendo of want that coils tighter and tighter in the pit of your stomach.

Every muscle in your body pulls tight, forces the arch of your back as you push yourself desperately back into his attentions.

You drop your forehead against the bar with a pathetic whine. You feel pathetic, vulnerable in a way you've never experienced. Every patron at the bar seems to have their eyes on you, you can feel them like a brand, and that attempt to touch you... Knowing they're watching you fall apart, watching Johnny do whatever he likes to you because of a deal he made with your boss- You just hope none of them are wondering what they have to do to earn the same reward.

Johnny's head turns to press his lips to the soft skin of your inner thigh, smearing your slick across the skin, and pushes a finger into you. Your lip wobbles at the not-quite-full feeling, at the burning slide of his finger in and out of you. You can feel his eyes on you too, but where your customers' eyes rove hungrily over your body, Johnny's are focused solely on the way your cunt swallows his thick finger.

His lips mover against your thigh, silent murmurings that your ears strain for over the music of the bar. A second digit slides gently in beside the first, his fingers scissoring to watch the stretch and God it just melts through you. You feel the stretch like a slow warmth that spreads through your pelvis and dribbles down your thighs. Out and in, his fingers dive into you and pull back with just the taste of your slick on his knuckles.

It's less overwhelming than his mouth. Enough of a thought coalesces in your brain to make you lift your head off the bar.

And to feel a sharp jolt of fear burst through you at the way the patron across from you tugs at his belt.

No.

No, you can't do this. It's too much. There are too many people and they're going to think you're something more than just the bartender. They're going to try and touch you, or make you touch them.

It dowses over your heated skin like cold water, making you prickle and tense, shaking with something so close and yet so far from pleasure that your body can't seem to decide what to do with it.

You're not sure who you mean to call for help, but a name springs to your lips faster than your tongue can pick it up.

"Jo-" Johnny's hand wraps around your mouth, his body plastered against your back in a second. The rush of fear leaves you in an instant as his lips find the shell of your ear. His fingers never leave you.

The gentle thrust of his fingers into your tight cunt feels almost like a lifeline, a sensation you can hold onto that you can't confuse for anything else.

"Ahm here, hen." He murmurs, his eyes flicking from your face to the patron's hand. "Ahm nae gonna let anyone dae anythin'." More than an assurance, a promise. You sink back into the feeling. "Take it as a compliment," His lips drag over the top of your cheek, up to your temple, "look so pretty that they cannae help touchin' 'emselves."

You half expect him to leave you like this, to go back to where he'd been between your legs, but he doesn't.

Your fingers find his forearm and grip it tight, something to hold onto as his fingers pick up the pace. In and out, in and out, faster and faster, harder and harder, until you can't stop the high moans that Johnny's hand muffles. His lips press everywhere they can, peppering the side of your face and the length of your neck with something that feels almost like affection as your hips rock and your muscles spasm.

Each thrust of his fingers hits right where you want it, pushing at that wet ache that seems to radiate pleasure. You claw at Johnny's arm with both hands as your back arches to a near painful degree, and he releases his hold on your face to grab your throat.

He fixes his mouth against yours in a searing kiss right as you come, your cunt fluttering around his fingers. Wet squelching rings over the music, filling your ears, and his palm with the sound of your pleasure. His tongue sweeps against yours, and you swallow the rush of saliva the feeling brings.

Johnny looks terribly pleased when he pulls away.

Pleased and delightfully fuzzy.

Your brain is still working through all the sex hormones and the red lighting isn't helping your vision.

You think you should be... mad at him.

You do your best to scowl at him.

"I hope you're not expecting anything in return." You insist, though your knees feel weak enough to drop to the ground right there. Johnny hums.

"Already got what I wanted." He informs you.

Your eyes narrow.

Whatever the fuck that means, it probably isn't good for you.

You fend off his groping the rest of the night, and lock up with a strange(familiar and terrifying) weight on your chest.

[fussypaws]

When you wake up and you just wanna talk so much but your partner is not awake enough yet...

[lovelyyandereaddictionpoint]

Yandere Fae King ////// Flawed Love

All too often there are the stories of fae who despise humans, coming to love a single human who negates everything they've believed. But what about a fae who doesn't hate humans? In fact, he adores them having a whole wing of the castle dedicated to the transmogrified humans he so lovingly collects protects. Samaritans, scholars, and kind people alike lived to chat and entertain the immortal king.

But the Fae King likes to wander. To look at the ever-changing human populace with admiration. He's learned by now that his humans at home are just as entertaining as the ones he sees on the outside. That he shouldn't snatch every human who interests him a little, especially when he's been doing so well (he's on a streak of 5 decades!) There's just one human he's willing to break his hard-earned streak for.

"Ew who would bring their kids to this stinky place!?"

"My Dad, (Y/n) he's also the one who owns the cabin we're going to."

"Well, it better have some AC or I'll be having words with him!"

You, the absolute opposite of the kindhearted tree-hugging protagonist are the hardened city-kid with an eternal sneer. Many who know you will question if you'd kick a puppy that was too loud or not cute enough...and the answer is that you wouldn't because it’d dirty your seasonal Birkin boots. And somehow the human-loving Fae is obsessed.

"Your majesty this is the human you've been drooling over?"

"Yes! Aren't they lovely?"

"They're something."

Fae King doesn't care if the group you're with burst out laughing when he proclaims his love. After he unintentionally terrorized them all with the oddly acting animals and the branches grabbing at them on their journey. It takes a lot for all they've been through to laugh in the face of being responsible. 

"Did you think I was joking? Is that why you're laughing?" 

"Nah man we're laughing because it's them you like!"

"Yeah, if you're a masochist who wants to die alone!"

Despite the usually jovial nature of the Fae King and general goodwill to humanity, he does have an especially morbid sense of justice. Along with his occasional forgetfulness as King of the Fae he was able to spell those he fought with thoughts alone. But that has nothing at all to do with this particular situation as he promises you he has no idea why your friends are still laughing.

"I promise my love, I have no idea why they keep laughing!"

"Its probably because you said something stupid."

" My Venus--"

"Ew and stop with the nicknames it makes you sound like an incel."

"Whats an incel?"

Because you are who you are the Fae King will know all he has to say for you to join him is jewels and diamonds. Never before has he been so willing to lie about what he could do for you if you gave him a sliver of your attention. It doesn’t get any better when you do catch him in a lie.

“Wait! (Y/n) please don’t leave me–!”

Slap

“You idiot! Did you think I’d stick around if you weren’t putting me up in the best hotel? Unbelievable.”

“My bedroom!”

“What?”

“The King’s Master Suite is three times the size of these rooms…will that make you happy?”

“Hmmm…but only for a night.”

“Yes! Thank the stars I’ll carry your bags up for you!”

“As you should. Now lead the way.”

“Gladly!”

Turns out the benevolent, human-loving Fae King is quite fond of your harsh treatment. More than willing to tear century-old curtains because you scrunched your nose at them. Letting you wear the crown on his head because you complimented him. Everyone is aghast at how far the Fae King is willing to go just for you.

“Your majesty, can I ask why you like…that human?”

“Why? Because I do of course!”

“But don’t you prefer the other humans you have? The ones with kind hearts and compassionate morals?”

“My love has their flaws but nothing gets in the way of true love!”

[mothiepixie]

Check- Faeu Comic [Next- coming soon]

New or need a refresher? Check out Fae Motti Ask Series Finally we are seeing more of Fae Motti and Fae Nightmare dynamics! After this will only be one page per post. This is a short series, but if received well may continue for a little longer. Faeu and Fae Nightmare belong to @valrayne-faeu

|| Patreon || Ko-fi || Commissions ||

[arinmoss]

And the rot continues.