#faery!hiccup

[howtodrawyourdragon]

For someone so small, Hiccup sure had a lot to say and he was willing to do anything to be heard. Luckily for him, Toothless was more than willing to listen. Always intrigued to find out what the fairy with the torn wings had to say. His ability to fly may have been stolen from him- something Toothless can relate to- but his will to live has remained intact. Together, they found a way back.

Written and drawn for the Any Fandom Fluff Bingo. I had SO MUCH FUN doing this one!

-XOXOX-

Please do not repost or misuse my art in anyway.

[gelatina-destroyer]

Astrid x Hiccup | Tinkerbell au

Saw @ neyutri post their hiccup Tinkerbell design and I could help myself

[narrans-reblogged]

This is absolutely amazing!

BeholLD MY TINKER HICCUP FAIRY DESIGN!!

Been having this on my head for a whilee and really wanted to give the desing a go. Why? I don't know, but a Neverland au sure it's fucking cool

[thoughtsonhurtandcomfort]

part 1 | part 2 | part 3 | part 4 | part 5 | part 6

Author's Notes: One day I'll name this little series and the woodworker, but today is not that day. Anyway, you guys are awesome. <3

IT'S ROUGH I KNOW BUT IT"LL GET BETTER

Content Warnings: tiny whump, faerie whump, trapped, lost, injured, burns, splinters, coughing, cold, fear, hopelessness, you know, the essentials

----

Only sparse light makes it down this far, catching on dust particles in the air above where Shae lies sprawled on the ground. He has been awake for some time, unmoving except for the rise and fall of his back with each thin, rasping breath he takes. He feels like someone lit him on fire from the inside, invisible flames curling in his lungs, down his throat, into his dry mouth and sore nose and puffy, bloodshot eyes. Shae lies still because he's afraid if he moves it will set off another painful coughing fit.

On the outside he isn't faring any better. His splinter-ravaged back has settled into a dull throb, while the sharper pain of his burnt and blistered stomach persists. On top of that are the scraped soles of his feet and bruising he sustained upon hitting the ground. His face feels too warm, his fingers and toes too cold. Moving seems impossible. For a long time, Shae doesn't even try.

But he continues breathing in the dry, bitter dust, feels it tickle and then claw at the back of his throat until he bursts into rough coughs. Shae rolls onto his side, clutching his stomach as his tiny body convulses. He comes close to passing out again, but then the coughs ease enough for Shae to turn again onto his back and draw in deeper breaths. The coughing eases some more. Shae's eyes crack open to look up to where he fell from. Way up above, pale light trickles in through the hole in the wall. It must be morning.

Shae pushes himself up onto his elbows, then his hands, and finally into a sitting position. He tries three times to stand before finally managing to stay on his feet. He sags against the wall and lets out a long, weary sigh.

The cavity stretches far in one direction, the narrow space between walls empty except for scattered bits of rock, some spiderwebs, and a rusty nail or two. The other direction is blocked up by debris. Shae can breathe easier now that he is standing up out of the thick coat of dust on the ground, and so he decides to walk a little. To what end, he doesn't know...the rest of the passageway is likely to be more of the same, or worse. But there could be a way out, and he won't know unless he tries.

Shae continues to lean heavily on the wall as he takes cautious steps forward. It's eerily quiet down here, except for the creak of wood and the skittering of unseen creatures. Suddenly Shae misses the familiar sounds of the human going about his life - slippered feet on the hardwood floor, humming to the radio, the coffee pot gurgling and the fire crackling. It all seems so...warm and safe, now. Maybe it was.

He doesn't recognize the burn in his eyes as tears until they blur his vision and he has to stop and wipe them away. He blames the dust, but can't blame it for the little hiccupping sobs that follow. Soon Shae is coughing again and has to stop walking and brace himself against the wall until it passes.

"O-ow..." Moving so much has aggravated his wounds. Shae can't reach his back to see just how bad it is, but he gingerly touches his burned belly with a flinch and a gasp. The skin is angry red, inflamed and tender. Both need treatment they won't get any time soon.

After the coughing fit his strength wanes quickly, and before he can decide whether to keep going, Shae's body decides for him. His legs wobble and buckle and he lands on his knees. Slowly he lowers himself to lie down, where he rests for several hours, drifting in and out of restless sleep.

Shae stirs again when the light from above turns from wintry gray to the gold of sunset. Despite bone-deep exhaustion, he stands again, determined to at least have a hint of a plan, a glimmer of hope before night falls. He makes his way carefully forward, looking out for any means of escape - something to climb, a hole, a tunnel, anything at all.

Eventually he reaches a corner and turns the bend. Shae stops. The light doesn't make it this far, casting the rest of the way in shadow. He can hear skittering again, louder here, and it makes his skin prickle. He turns back to the familiar, wishing he hadn't looked. Unless he finds the courage to venture beyond the light, this is all he has to work with...and it isn't much. He can't climb out. There are no gaps. He has no food, no water, no warmth, and the air is barely breathable.

Shae sits against the wall and curls up with his knees to his chest, shaking with fear. His hope fades away with the daylight.

[blueorchid1707]

Hear me out, Httyd Song of the Sea au.

The entire storyline is the same (eg. Macha, the faeries etc are all the same) but instead it's young Hiccup and Dagur as Saorise (pronounced Sear-shuh(at least in the film)) and Ben (maybe Dagur was adopted or something idk). I'm just gonna make a list bc this is just so chaotic in my mind:

Ben: Dagur

Saorise: Hiccup

Cú: Toothless or Sleuther? (I can't decide if I wanna make a new additional character for toothless, like a cat or something)

Connor: Stoick

Bronagh: Valka

Dan (the guy who runs the ferry): Gobber

Granny: Gothi (?) (maybe old wrinkly idk)

Instead of seals, they're like sea dragons? Idk like those things from the mlp movie, like with the fancy looking fins and stuff. (I haven't seen it since I was like 8 so idk if that's right or not)

Hiccup is like a Night fury sea dragon selkie (omg I hope that makes sense) and Valka is like a Stormcutter one.

I just loveee the the whole brother thing that Hiccup and Dagur have and I really want to see more of it.

Anyway I've been obsessed with Song of the sea since I was little and so obviously I needed to mix it with my current biggest interest. I'm gonna leave some screenshots from the film here bc it's so beautiful and I love it and I really recommend watching it

[specificpollsaboutbooks]

Fiction Works with Footnotes

Round 1

The Emily Wilde series starts with Emily Wilde's Encyclopaedia of Faeries

Emily, a Cambridge professor of dryadology, travels to Hrafnsvik, Norway to study a previously unstudied type of faerie, in order to complete the Encycopaedia she is working on. This book is incredibly cozy, with every chapter being an entry from Emily's journal, complete with foot notes at the bottom of the page to explain the study of dryadology, which was an absolute joy to learn of.

Edwardian lady academic studies fairies in a remote Scandinavian town. She's an excellent academic but has zero social skills and doesn't understand how to navigate conversation. The book is told as her diary, and the footnotes are mostly in-universe citations of other works on faeries. Oh, and her academic rival also shows up in the same remote Scandinavian town and it turns out that she hates him but he thinks they're best friends.

How to Train Your Dragon :

We all know the httyd movies. the books are VERY different, but equally as good. the story slowly transitions from episodic adventure type to a full blown war between 3 different factions and is told from the perspective of Hiccup as an adult . They have heavy themes of cycles and the past coming back to haunt you. and of course little footnotes of either when something happened in a past book, or side notes joking about bits of the text.

[colonelpancakes]

Dragon Prince Liveblog thingamajig part two! Love, War and Mushrooms. Under the cut because this one got long too. I have thoughts. Most of this episode was spent cooing over Zym.

Ohhh the intro did change and it's Claudia now. Her expression is so heartbreaking, she's not even reaching out, she's just looking up at Aaravos like she trusts him to help her. And the way she was stumbling and using the staff to walk... Ough, Claudia my girl.

Skjsdljaflks Hat is clinging on for dear life huh? Baitlings my beloveds.

Corvus! Yay! Also I love Soren, he's so sweet and goofy especially when he's around the younger kids like Ez and Zym.

Oh, so the Sunfire Elves have six armies? Did we know that already? I can’t remember but that’s interesting. So Karim only has a sixth of the army then

Zym curled up in Zubeia’s nest in the same way he did when he was a little dragon in S3 E9 is breaking my heart.

I'm really loving Soren and Corvus's banter in this episode, they're really funny and cute. The charades thing is very cute too.

OUGH KARIM’S REFLECTION IN JANAI’S CROWN! Her brother is haunting her, his betrayal is haunting her and it’s so good. I love reflections I love mirrors I love this type of framing so much.

Poor Janai- OH FUCK THAT’S NOT GOOD.

SOREN THIS IS HOW YOU GET POISONED AND DIE.

Aww Zym is such a good boy 💕

SOREN. NO!

DON'T FEED IT TO HAT AS WELL!! They are such dumbasses.

Ooh, Katolis lore? 👀 That's a really cool name

I love the framing of this shot. Also, this story is either going to help Janai or make her even more paranoid so let's hope it's the former.

You! Motherfucker!

I love Karim continuing to refer to history as if it has a mind of it's own, building off how he told Janai that history demanded that she do things a certain way. It’s such an interesting difference between his worldview and Janai’s. Also, sidenote, who gave animators the right to make their villains so attractive why is Miyana so gorgeous?

Now that feels like foreshadowing if every I’ve seen it.

I still love how Sol Regem literally said “I lost my hope long before I lost my sight” and Karim went. Ah yes, clearly restoring his sight is the key to restoring his hope like. Man, that’s the opposite of what he said.

Hat fistbump!!!!

I love Soren and Corvus their dynamic is great. My question though, is when the hell was there a summer camp named Camp Katolis? And why is it named after the kingdom? But the image of Corvus and Soren leading summer camp singalongs is so good.

Hat sleeping on Soren's face 🥹

I love seeing Zym and Ezran use their psychic link to say goodnight to each other that’s so sweet. I would die for them.

So… I’m thinking they’re about to get abducted by faeries? Is that what’s happening?

Zym's face here is killing me he looks like Toothless when he's mad at Hiccup. Also, I really love Soren and Corvus's dynamic they bounce off each other so well. I can totally see why people ship them.

SOREN. NO.

WOAH! Studio Ghibli Pokemon type creature!!

See, Soren, this is another good reason we don’t eat random mushrooms. Sometimes they’re little guys. Also, "mushpal" is an adorable name for these things.

Soren is so sweet and the way Corvus looks at him here is so soft.

Zym Hat!

More in reblogs because I ran out of room again -_-

[h3lfaerie]

Ok, so if FMC cut her palm and it was completely healed in the same chapter (chapter 4 if I'm not mistaken) then how the hell was it bleeding in chapter 5 when she slammed her hand on the table and why was it crimson colored is it not supposed to be gold in color I'm so confused is there something I'm not getting 🤔

Aha! I think I know exactly what you mean, my friend!

I believe you are referring to this particular segment in Chapter 5:

"You blinked repeatedly, tried to will the world back into existence; and regretted it immediately. That oddly shaped scratch on the table, an anchor, something to haul you back to the land of the living- It was right next to your hand. Where a single crimson drop of blood still stained your sleeve."

Now though this part describes blood staining her sleeve, it does not state that the blood is hers or that she is injured to begin with. Merely that in her quite dilapidated state of mind, it is that pop of colour that hauls her back to "the land of the living".

In addition I'd like to bring your attention to the way the rest of that paragraph reads:

"You’d forgone your fighting leathers for the night, opting for a loose-fitting white tunic and a corset instead. Bland, drab, but inconspicuous given that your leather pants and boots remained. You’d had to snag a new pair of gloves on the way before coming. Lest anyone should see your perfectly uninjured hand."

As you can see, I do double down on the fact that she is uninjured in this particular scene. And yes, in this blog I have justified that faerie blood, in my world-building, would run gold instead of red due to the lack of iron in their system.

So, here begs the question.

Whose blood was that?

Because it wasn't hers.

Well, I shall answer your question with another:

Who died subsequently after the festival?

Because dragons my friend, as all reptiles, do bleed red. And after all, the FMC was at the crime scene:

"You've hardly had a chance to look at it yourself; the night of the feast was the last time you'd been there. And you'd barely gotten out unscathed before retreating to the plaza. Mere. Fleeting. Moments. Was the time you'd had to make some minor alterations to the scene before leaving; just enough to lead them astray."

-> Chapter 6, Path of Alfheim; Secrets

Quite peculiar that the FMC was so terribly out of it right before Hiccup cornered her. And even more so that it was preceding the discovery of Kingstail's half-eaten body. Honestly... what could possibly make a battle-hardened mercenary shake like a leaf?🤔

Anyways, I hope that answers your question! 😁 Thank you for the ask, darling! I'm more than happy to clarify my convoluted foreshadowing. Please feel free to ask anything, anytime!

[dr-demi-bee]

Miri-

I don't know much about you, I'm sorry. All I heard was that you were a fighter, brave and fierce, and that Gale loves you so. I wanted to say... thank you? I suppose? I know, it's out of the blue, and you're probably completely baffled right now, so I can only apologize. But Gale is so wonderful. He is so brilliant and kind and he deserves someone who will lift his spirits.

But you deserve Gale, too. I know he wouldn't stay with someone who didn't treat him with the utmost care and affection, not anymore. So I know he's in good hands. He is my dear, dear friend, and I am so glad to see him happy. But that he makes you happy too, that's important.

You take care of one another, you hear? If he gets on your nerves, come by for a chat and a treat. I'm outside the city, near Cloakwood's edge. Left at the faerie ring. You're welcome anytime.

-Your friend

Miri’s relaxing in the late evening sun on the tower balcony when Corvus arrives with a letter strapped to his leg. She wasn’t expecting a new contract from the Confluence any time soon, so she’s perplexed when she takes the note from him. Miri offers the dire raven a series of affectionate scritches in reward for the delivery and the great bird crows happily.

Her confusion mounts when she opens the letter. Not the usual coded message - and not a note from a packmate either. Something written in Common, and in an unfamiliar hand, no less.

“Who...?” Miri squints as she tries to parse through the words. But so much of it is vocabulary she hasn’t learned yet. She recognizes her name at the opening. And Gale’s name numerous times. “Sorry...fight, brave...lo-ve...”

Miri growls tersely as her frustration trying to read mounts. Note in hand, she swings her legs over the seat to stride into the study in search of her mate.

“Fenor?”

“Over here, my love.” Gale’s voice answers from the seating around the fireplace further inside the room. She finds him reading a thick tome by firelight, but he looks up as she approaches with a warm smile and eyes glittering in the warm glow. His expression shifts when he notes her mood and the paper in hand. “From Talmeria? Something amiss?”

“No, not Talmeria,” Miri returns with a shake of her head, glancing to the writing once more. Unfamiliar, and certainly not in the Confluence’s style. “I am not sure who from.”

Miri proffers the letter to him, causing him to raise a curious brow. But when he catches a glimpse they furrow with a confusion.

“Who would write you in Common?” Gale questions with a curious murmur. Those thoughtful eyes flit back and forth quickly as they scan the note.

“I am unsure,” Miri returns, “Could you read it to me?”

“Of course, my love.”

Gale obliges, shifting the tome from his lap to the side table. Then he stands and accepts the note, clearing his throat softly.

“Hmm. 'Miri', it starts. 'I don't know much about you...'”

He reads the note aloud, in his rich, soothing voice. Miri sits on the arm of the chair as she listens, watching Gale move about the room and gesticulate as he orates. Brown eyes flit up to Miri on occasion to ensure she’s not missed any words. Her Common has come a long way, to his great pride, but there were still hiccups every now and then.

As he works through the note, a look of growing intrigue falls over the wizard’s features. He turns to her with a curious hum once he finishes the letter, eyebrows drawing up.

“It seems a stranger has written a letter of appreciation. About you and me, no less. And, rightfully, how I am lucky to have you,” he muses, lips curling up into a warm smile once more.

Miri looks back to him with a soft, but quizzical smile, her lips twisting slightly.

"What would possess someone to do that?" She wonders. "Why would they want to meet me?"

“Perhaps they’re an admirer of us both?” Gale theorizes, sounding a bit amused by the idea. He glances down at the letter, as if reading it again might provide further insight.

“Or…” Gale’s gaze refocuses, finding Miri’s bright eyes again. His expression softens. “Perhaps they’re hoping to get to know the person who has captured my heart.”

He steps closer, lifting his free hand to gently brush his knuckles over Miri’s freckled cheek. Miri leans into the contact. Her gaze softens as it meets his, though her brows remain furrowed with her lingering suspicion.

Gale’s hand slides back to thread into her hair, his fingers brushing against her neck. He gives the woven coils a soft tug - a silent request to come closer. Miri stands, winding her arms around his waist. Her hold is protective and possessive as she gazes up at him with a somewhat serious expression and blazing bright eyes.

“I can tell you’re troubled,” Gale speaks softly, as his eyes search her face. “You’ve got your ‘suspicious face’ on. What are you thinking?”

"I am unfamiliar with these customs," she murmurs softly. She takes a step closer, pressing tighter into his embrace. "I cannot help but be wary of a stranger's attention."

Gale wraps his arms loosely around her, pulling her close against his chest. His warmth, his scent surrounding her - a comfort. He can’t resist leaning in to plant a kiss against her forehead, his eyes falling shut as he breathes her in.

“I don’t blame you in the least, my love. With the way people have treated you, you’re right to be wary,” he assures her in a gentle murmur. Gale pulls her closer still, until his chin rests atop her head. “And I wouldn’t want anything to make you feel unsafe. You want me to toss the letter in the fire?”

Miri shakes her head. A small, endeared smile tugs at Gale’s lips. His hands smooth languid circles against her back.

“I understand.” He leans back to meet her gaze, his eyes full of patient warmth and deep affection. “I’m admittedly not particularly enthusiastic about strangers having an interest in us either. But I can’t help but want to know who they are. Don’t you?” Miri's hands tighten against him slightly and she huffs a sharp breath.

"They claim to be a dear friend of yours," she returns, still suspect. "I have contacts in Cloakwood... Perhaps I will send a message."

Gale huffs a soft, quiet laugh through his nose. He can’t help but love her protective instincts.

“Ah, my fierce protector, always with one paw between me and danger.” He gently pinches her chin between forefinger and thumb, tilting it up with a warm smile on his lips. “You’re adorable.”

Miri snorts a soft laugh, giving him a wry, chastising look.

"Be serious," she chides, though she can't suppress her half smile.

He feigns a pout, though his eyes gleam with a familiar mischief.

“I am serious,” he protests, gently pulling them closer together until not even a hint of space remains between them. “You are adorable. And I love you. It’s very serious.”

He leans in to press a light kiss to her forehead and against her cheek. Another, against her jaw. And lower, against her throat. His voice is a breath against her skin.

“Truly, I’m deathly serious…”

Miri looses a peal of giggles before she’s lost in his embrace for the next few hours. But in the morning, she sends Corvus off with a letter (in Elvish) to a friend in Cloakwood - another ranger faithful to Mielikki.

[rainbowswirlything]

A Void Within Plot Theory

Maybe this is a little out-there, but I think Drakara and Jennumara might be the same faerie.

Prior to this plot, there was basically no information on Drakara other than her name and a single picture, and the hooded faerie in the 2023 Faerie Festival epilogue comic and the Discarded Faerie Artificer Plushie do very much look like her.

But given that Baelia is one of the main protagonists of the Void Within plot, it would be very strange if the faerie who took her wings--about whom very little is known and whose appearance was not shown in the Grey Faerie Neopedia article--didn't play a significant role in this plot. It wouldn't feel right if Baelia didn't get a chance to confront the faerie who took her wings.

And I also think it's notable that Baelia's most recent flashback very conspicuously skips over anything to do with Jennumara--as though Jennumara's appearance is intended as some sort of big reveal later on (which would make more sense if she's a faerie we've seen before... i.e., the one in the 2023 Faerie Festival epilogue comic).

It's possible that Jennumara is some random other dark faerie that just hasn't shown up "on screen" yet... but given that the plot involves turning entire Neopian lands grey, it does seem like it makes sense for the major faerie antagonist to be the faerie first known for turning Baelia grey. (Maybe turning Baelia grey was somehow part of the process to create the Grey Painter's paint brush; shoot, maybe continually harvesting her despair or something while keeping her in that cage on the mountaintop was also part of the process.)

I would note that there is a particular circumstance in which a faerie would go by two completely different names during different time periods--namely, if that faerie lost her wings and had to find a new name to regain her wings and magic.

Of course, a faerie could change her name or go by a false name for other reasons... but wouldn't it be interesting if the faerie who took Baelia's wings had first-hand knowledge of what it meant?

The paintbrush the Grey Painter uses appears to emit purple void particles along with the greyness, so there appears to be some connection with the Void. And if it's the Artificer who created the paint brush...

What if, way back before she and Fyora parted ways, Drakara wanted to study the Void, and perhaps harness its energy? What if one of their arguments was about that--with Fyora thinking it was too dangerous? What if Drakara delved too deep and caught Something's attention, and that Something reached back towards her, and in doing so changed her in some way? (The plot trailers do, after all, feature a distinct single-eyed many-tentacled monster that appears to be featured in the plot trophies as well--which implies that said monster may be the true main antagonist, or at least the major threat to be defeated.)

And--an even more horrifying, heartbreaking idea, though perhaps less plausible given that there's no hint of it in the Trick-or-Treat bag story--what if that Something appeared to be corrupting Drakara through her magic, and Fyora, panicking, thought the only way to save her friend was to cut her off entirely from that magic? (And then, enraged and heartbroken, a newly-grey Drakara flees, somehow managing to disappear, remaining hidden no matter how hard Fyora tries to find her and beg her forgiveness, until Fyora assumes--as she says in the Trick-or-Treat bag story--"there's nothing left" of her former companion?)

Even if Drakara were simply corrupted by the Void's power somehow, without any wing-loss, that might lead to a drastic enough change in her sense of self that she simply chose to start using a new name--or maybe she just took on a new name to make it harder for Fyora to find her.

Of course, this does add an unfortunate hiccup to Fyora/Drakara shipping--what Jennumara did to Baelia is horrifying enough that it would preclude any full reconciliation without some serious mitigating circumstances. But if Drakara/Jennumara's actions weren't entirely her own--if there were a chance to restore her to her former self--well, she'd still have amends to make, especially towards Baelia (and Nyx/Ozzy/Juni as well, assuming Jennumara orchestrated Nyx and Juni's involuntary trip into the Void), but at least she wouldn't necessarily have been full-on-sadistic-evil the way Jennumara seemed to be in the Neopedia article.

And what if part of Jennumara/Drakara making amends towards Baelia involves somehow transferring her powers to Baelia?

One way or another, I think that, at the end of this plot, Baelia may become the new Faerie Artificer. The description of the Artificer Plushie describes it as an office in the Faerie Queen's court, so Fyora could reinstate it--and though one point against this idea is the fact that Baelia doesn't seem to have any experience in, well, artificing, if she had a proper teacher...

[bellatrixobsessed1]

Meteor Shower (Part 24)

And so her two lives come to intersect here in a parking lot full of potholes and towering snowbanks. 

“You’re alive?” It is something between a remark and a question. 

Icy regards the girl with an anxious sort of curiosity. She has changed but not much. She has dyed her sandalwood brown hair a pastel shade of pink. Her eyes are still big and green in a pale hue. Her skin is a warm brown and she still parts her lips the same way. Her front teeth still have that gap in them that the record label had been trying to get her to fix and her cheeks still have that heavy spray of freckles. She is somewhat taller and somewhat rounder and she has pierced her nose. But she is unmistakably and undeniably Chalcedony. 

“More or less.” Icy replies. 

“Why didn’t you tell me? Why didn’t you reach out?” 

Icy rolls her eyes. “What would the point have been?” 

Chalcedony gives her a very deep frown. It comes with a pinching of her brows. "I cried for you! I attended your funeral and I almost fainted---I was so overwhelmed and I didn't know what else to do. Riska had to carry me back to the car."

"Riska?" Bloom asks in a murmur.

"Ruby." Icy replies.

"I couldn't even get out of bed and then...and then we lost..." she hiccups. "It was too much, Icy. It was too much."

She finds herself going rigid. It is terribly strange to hear her chosen name on Chalcedony's lips.

Icy is quite thankful for Bloom's interruption. "Wait, so if Ruby's real name is Riska and Daimond's was (name), then what is your birth name?"

"Kyanite." She shrugs.

"Your real name." Bloom repeats.

"Was the same as my stage name. It worked out nicely enough."

"You let me mourn for you." Chalcedony cuts back in. "And you're just going to blow me off now!?"

Icy shrugs. "You never did much to intervene, did you? You let Valtor pick me apart and reshape me just as much as everyone else did." As much as she had let it happen to herself. "Sweet, shy Chalcedony. Could never hurt anyone but was perfectly content watching someone get hurt."

"I wasn't content!" Her voice grows shriller with each word until it is nearly a squeak. "What was I supposed to do!? I was the band crybaby, remember? Or are you the only one who's allowed to struggle?"

Icy flinches.

"What were you doing when the K-Us girls were giving me a hard time?" And that is how she finds out that Chalcedony has learned to snap and bite just as well as she. "Timid Kyanite was perfectly content  to let everyone bully me to keep them distracted from you...not that it even worked."

Next to her Bloom shivers and wraps her arms around herself. "Icy..." She regards the drifting snowflakes with unease.

"What did you come here for? Are you going to out me? I made Valtor disappear, I can..."

Bloom places a firm hand on her shoulder. Icy shrugs it off.

"What?" Her brows furrow. "Why would I do that? What do you mean about Valtor?"

Icy throws her head back and cackles. It is half mad, really. But there is just something about looking head on at her past that drives her to the brink. "Someone needed to stop him! He would have kept going. Star after star! A fucking meteor shower!"

Chalcedony flinches.

"He had his eye on you. You reminded him of me..."

"So you...?"

"I killed him, Daisy. I froze his small, shriveled heart. And I went out for drinks afterwards. I had myself a little party." She flashes her most wolfish grin and the snow around her flurries. "You're welcome." It has been a long time building. Thus hatred. This resentment for the people who were supposed to stick with her until the very end. For these foolish faeries that claim to put friendship at the forefront but have nothing on the bonds that witches form.

Hypocrisy.

It is all Hypocrisy.

And the biggest hypocrite stands in front of her with the audacity to ask why she had cut ties.

She had given everything for them and they had returned nothing. They let her die and then they complain that they had to mourn her!

"Icy!" Bloom shouts as the temperature plummets. She throws her arms around the witch and holds her closer and tighter than she ever has. She barely hears her over the sharp whistle of the wind. "Don't hurt her, she's your friend."

"Is she!? Is she!?" She doesn't realize how damp her cheeks are until Bloom.wipes the tears away.

"I want to be, Icy." Chalcedony whispers. "The band was really sad without you. You were always so...you knew how to make each show special." She pauses. "I looked up to you."

"Well thats terribly unfortunate, isn't it?" Icy laughs.

"I don't think so." Chalcedony replies quietly. "I wish that I was half as resilient as you are."

"Well I really fucking hope that you never have to be." Icy hisses.

Bloom holds her tightly. "Come on, why don't we get on the tour bus and get you a bowl of ice cream and light your favorite incense?"

It is her gentle way of telling her that she needs to calm down. And maybe she does. It surely isn't healthy to get this icily angry.

"I'm sorry I let you down, Kya,"

Icy swallows hard and the snow around her swirls to the floor.

Maybe she is the one who should be sorry.

Sorry for letting go and running away so quickly.

Sorry for giving up so soon.

Sorry for giving up on the people that she used to love.

Sorry for giving up on Kyanite.

On herself.

"It's okay. Icy." Bloom promises. "It was okay before and it's going to be okay again."

.oOo.

She is number 102.

102 of at least 337. 

Only twelve of them will be accepted into the Magix-Melody Music Academy. 

Dyamond is, apparently the last of the realms that the academy has held tryouts at on a long list of stops throughout the magical universe. Most of the spots have already been filed by residents of Magix and Melody. But there had been a few slots reserved for the rest of the realms. 

If the twelve of them do well then they will be sorted into one of several dozen girl bands. Their performance at the school determines which groups they go off to join. Several have already been established like Summer’s TrEs, Gl!ttr!ng, K-Us–pronounced ‘chaos’. These are the three bands that everyone hopes to get into, the girl groups who are already plenty famous but seeking new members for grander projects. 

But there are other groups. Groups that have yet to debut but show more promise than the rest and are seeking one or two more members before they make their debuts official.

And there are even more groups that who have only promising concepts but no members at all. 

The least talented of them will be tossed into experimental groups that likely won’t make it past an album. 

Kyanite tugs at the hem of her shirt just to give herself something to do while she waits for contestants 1 to 101 to finish their auditions. Each performance subtracts a fraction of hope from her heart. 37 contestants in and not a single one of them are less talented than her. They all know how to wink and blow kisses. They know how to wiggle and shimmy in ways that look cute and alluring. 

Spellbinding.

And what can she do? She can only sing. 

She averts her gaze from the stage.

She sees a familiar face. 

One of her classmates.

Astridella had never been kind to her with her pitying, judgmental stares. But she hadn’t ever been especially unkind, not like the others who always had something cutting to say to Kyanite.

And now she has to perform in front of her and endure that judgemental glower while she clumsily flounders her way through trying trying to make her dreams a reality.

Astridella is number 101 and even from a distance Kyanite can tell that she is proud to be number 1 even if that one is preceded by 100.

Even from a distance Kyanite can tell that she is happy to be ahead of her just chronologically. And that she will do her best to get ahead of Kyanite in every other way. Astradella can't let herself get bested by that homely, unremarkable dork that she looks down upon.

And just as she always has, Kyanite hates that she has to follow behind. Astradella puts on a remarkable show. A flawless show. She doesn't miss a note or a beat. Her pitch is perfectly pleasant and showcases that which vocalists from Dyamond are known for. Her voice bears likeness to a gentle flurry in a snowglobe and tinkling sleigh bells under moonlight. She dances like snowfall too---elegant, wistful, and light on her lithe feet.

Kyanite's heart hammers in her chest. Blood pounds so loudly in her ears that she almost doesn't hear them call, "contestant 102."

She takes a deep breath and tries not to meet Astridella’s eyes as she rises. But she can feel the girl's glare slicing into her back as she makes her way towards the stage.

"Whenever you're ready, 102."

Kyanite swallows again and nods. She draws a deep breath and the flutters in her stomach stir into a frenzy. "Hello, my name is Kyanite and I will be performing a variation of my favorite folk song, 'Fields of Dyamond.'"

She doesn’t bother trying to dance, she knows well that she is no good at it. That her footwork is always clumsy and she can never really find balance. Even if she could, her moves come out disjointed, fractured, and uncoordinated. And even if they weren’t she doesn’t think that anybody wants to see her jiggle. At least that’s what her classmates had told her during the dance unit in gym class. She had been having fun until that.

She hasn’t danced since and wouldn’t like to do it again.

She will have to get over that if she wants to do this. 

She won’t have to worry; they won’t select her anyways. Not with 336 better choices. 

She sings anyways. First ‘Fields of Dyamond’ and then the song of the frozen lake. She imitates its shrill notes and its high hums to the best of her ability. It only occurs to her that doing so might have been a weird choice…a horrible mistake when she accidently glimpses at Astridella and sees her rolling her eyes and shaking her head. 

Kyanite has always been a weirdo.

A freak. 

Her interests are bizarre. 

Her mannerisms are moreso.

And she doesn’t have a slim figure and a pretty face to make those mannerisms endearing. 

But she does have her voice and even when it shakes, it sounds pretty. 

In spite of the shakes it sounds pretty.

Because of the shakes it sounds pretty.

She is never able to exactly replicate the tones and sounds of her hums that day because she has never been as terrified as she was that day.

She falls silent.

She could suffocate under the weight of the crowd returning her silence. 

They had clapped for Astridella and for contestants 1 through 100. They had clapped for everyone but her. This is about the time when the first laugh usually rings out and then the room erupts with it. But this time Kyanite doesn’t hear so much as a snicker. 

The first judge clears his throat. “That was…unique.” Kyanite cringes, ‘unique’ is a kind way of saying uncannily unconventional. A friendly way of telling her that she had made the wrong choice. “Extraordinary!” The man adds.

“Indeed.” Says judge two. She scribbles something onto her pad of paper. “I’ve never heard anything like that before. Most contestants select a popular song and bring their own flavor to it.”

“I’ve done the same.” Kyanite replies. “Well, it isn’t a popular song but I have recreated a song that I like.”

“And what song is that?” Asks the third judge. 

“The song of the lake. Ice sings.” Kyanite informs them. 

“Mmhmm.” The first judge nods. “Fascinating, indeed.”

“It’s a shame that you didn’t dance.” Remarks judge two. And Kyanite’s stomach sinks.

“I didn’t feel as though it was a dancy sort of song.” She tries. Swallowing hard she continues, “I think that sometimes it is good to know when choreography will distract from the real art—the song.” 

Number two jots another something down.

“Preferably we would like to be able to see how our contestants dance before selecting them.” Three says. And with that Kyanite knows that her chance has been blown. That it is time to tuck her dream away, go back to school, and deal with all of the people who taunted her for saying that she was going to audition at all.

She thinks of leaving but she doesn’t want to be rude. She isn’t sure if it is more embarrassing to sit for a few hours more, among people who had seen her fail so miserably or if it would be more so to flee and leave them staring at and mocking an empty seat.

“Contestant 103.” 

“104.” 

“105.”

“106…”

She endures it all. 

Every single performance that had gone so much better than her own.

And when it is all through they call out the winners; “contestant number 16, contestant number 93, contestant number 300…” She zones out until she hears, “contestant number 101.” Of course. Of course Astridella has made the cute. There are more numbers, 225, 141, and 5. She begins to gather her belongings, ready to rush for the door. “And finally, contestant number 102.”

She doesn’t want to be stared at. 

It doesn’t matter what she wants. 

Over 300 pairs of eyes watch her rise and make her way towards the rest of the winners. 

One by one they are called to speak with the judges in private. They speak with her last. She has a while longer to endure the whispers and glances. The people who insist that there were, indeed, many better contestants that should have been chosen over her. 24 is the popular vote.

And then they call her back and they tell her that she is going to need some work. A lot of it. But her voice is too special to pass up over a few things that they can change with the right diets and cosmetics. With the right outfits, and hairstyles.

“But you should be aware that if we can’t fix…” Judge one gestures to her person, “then you will likely be placed in one of those experimental groups.”

“And you need to learn and be willing to dance.” Mentions the third judge. 

“We’ve worked with girls like yourself.” The second judge reassures her. “You are going to do just fine. And you are going to meet a whole new you. A better you.” She doesn’t say it but Kyanite understands the implications perfectly; she will meet a skinnier, prettier, more talented, more desirable her.

They don’t give her time to contemplate whether or not this will be a good thing. 

Certainly it isn’t great to see her current self as an obstacle, something to be altered beyond recognition. But maybe that is what she has wanted all along. 

The chance to be someone else. 

Someone better. 

An upgraded version of her that nobody laughs at and everybody admires. Everybody craves. 

She decides that she will do whatever it takes. 

She will make it. 

She will make it in the industry no matter what it costs her.

[howtodrawyourdragon]

I did it. I colored it. I'm happy with it. :)

-XOXOX-

Please do not repost or misuse my art in any way.

[miitgaanar]

Whumptober prompt! Requested by @evecoffn!

No. 4: HALLUCINATIONS

Hypnosis | Sensory Deprivation | “You’re still alive in my head.” (Billy Lockett, More) for Zaresh

**********

Zaresh tried to scream.  He pounded at the door with his small fists, tears streaming down his face as he begged and pleaded for help.  Hoping that someone—anyone—would take pity on him and let him out of that small, dark, utterly soundless room.

And yet there was nothing. No matter how loud he wailed or how hard he cried, no matter how his throat burned with the effort of his empty screams, he was met with a silence so thick it made his ears ache.

The mistress had muttered something before she had shoved him in the room and locked the door, a terrible sneer etched into her fine features.  He hadn't realized what she had done until he began to cry for his father; when his attempts to call out did nothing to break the noiseless veil that had fallen over him.

And then panic set in.

It must have been some kind of spell, he realized.  Something that dampened all sound around him.  No, not dampened—eliminated.  Not even his attempts to bang on the heavy wooden door elicited so much as a soft thump.  As if he had vanished from the world. As if he had never existed at all.

Zaresh was no stranger to darkness.  Cicecta laid deep within the bowels of the Underdark, the drow born of the inky abyss in which it thrived.  But this was different.  So, so different.  He had been locked up in varying rooms and closets before, the candles snuffed out and all faerie fire extinguished, but this—

He started to cry again, his heaving sobs amounting to nothing.  The silence was complete, leaving him imprisoned within what might as well have been his tomb.  Zaresh had heard plenty of stories about hunting parties going missing, only for their remains to be found months later within a caved-in section of a cavern.  

It was also one of the mistress' favorite punishments, to bury people alive in some long forgotten corner of their subterranean home, their pleas for mercy falling on deaf ears as the order to block the entrance was given.

Zaresh only began to cry harder as his mind raced, his throat sore from the strain of his silent wails.  What if she left him in here to die?  Like all of the other houseboys she so loved to torment.  It wouldn't be the first time she did away with one for her own amusement.

Nausea curdled within the depths of his belly, his legs trembling violently as he at last fell to his knees before the immovable door.  His head swam, a terrible dizziness overcoming him as he fought for air.  His lungs heaved desperately, and yet it wasn't enough to chase away the clawing tightness engulfing his chest.  He curled up on the cold, dirty floor of the small, long forgotten room, a frightening numbness seeping into his fingers.

Father would come looking for him, right?  He'd realize that his son was missing.  Of course he would.  He was ever-present at the mistress' side, his scarlet gaze always alert and watching.  He'd notice that Zaresh was not among the servants running about the halls, that he had yet to see a single pair of ice-blue eyes among a sea of crimson irises. He had to.

Father, Zaresh pleaded silently, a hiccup he felt, but could not hear, wracking his body.  I'll never anger the mistress again.  Never ever again.  I swear it.  Please, father.  Just come find me.  Please.

He didn't realize he had fallen asleep until the room was abruptly flooded with light, jolting him awake.  He squinted against the sudden brightness as he scrambled to his feet, rushing forward.  His eyes were bleary and puffy, and his head throbbed fiercely—but he pushed his way through the doorway and over the threshold, and was rewarded with an onslaught of noise.

A kobold hissed loudly as Zaresh barreled into it, the small, reptilian creature hitting the stone floor with a faint thud.  The telltale sound of his bare feet slapping against the floor.  The ragged sound of his desperate breathing.  The rapid, panicked beating of his own heart.

The relief of it all was so overwhelming, he almost burst into a fresh round of tears.

Zaresh pushed himself upright, his bright blue eyes scanning the dimly lit hallway—hoping, praying to see a tall, familiar figure.  Desperate to know that he hadn’t been forgotten.  That he hadn’t been left to die a silent death amongst the roaches and rats.

But, other than the agitated kobold growling softly to himself, Zaresh was completely and utterly alone.

[queen-rainy-love]

The Faerie Pure Wedding Part 10

Let's go!

Just a little warning, this part will get sad.

*The scene takes place hours later. Red Velvet is sitting on the guest bed, thinking about what had happened earlier. A moment later, Pastry enters the bedroom with a worried expression.*

Red Velvet: Hey. How are the kids?

Pastry: Capsaicin says he's fine but I can tell he's putting on a brave face for the others. Snow Sugar is scared that they will be separated from their fathers and be sent to their Grandmother Cotton. The Strawberry kids are trying to stay calm. And Pond Dino just finally calmed down after seeing your...estranged grandfather. *sits next to Red Velvet* How was the meeting?

Red Velvet: *pulls her closer to him* The meeting was intense. Grandfather Faerie was recommending that all of us stay here until we capture Shadow Milk. That caused Mom to almost have a screaming match with him. Dark Cacao offered a place for us in the Citadel. That caused Golden Cheese to start the screaming match. It lasted for a good two, three hours.

Pastry: *gently rubs his hand* Did they say what the final decision will be?

Red Velvet: We'll all return to our respective kingdoms tomorrow afternoon and prepare for war against the Beasts.

Pastry: And we won't have time to find Dark Enchantress.

Red Velvet: Right. And Grandfather Faerie won't let us go deeper into Beast-Yeast. So tonight is our last night here.

Pastry: I see. *Leans her head on his shoulder*I'll let the kids know tonight.

*The couple sat in silence, unwinding from the day's events. Red Velvet silently cursed at himself while Pastry thought about two questions.*

Red Velvet: (I should have asked her when I had the chance! Damn it! I-)

Pastry: Velvet.

Red Velvet: Hm? *looks over at her*

Pastry: I have a question for you.

Red Velvet: Oh, yeah. What is it?

Pastry: Who was Shadow Milk talking about? You cut him off but he mentioned someone. Someone that made you mad. Who was it?

Red Velvet: ... *takes a deep breath* I was mad at Shadow Milk, not who he mentioned. My son, Strawberry Cream.

Pastry: Your...son? I didn't know you already had one.

Red Velvet: I don't blame you. I don't talk about him much. Hell, Madeleine, Burnt Cheese, and Dark Choco are the only ones who knows about him and even then, it's not much. It just hurts to talk about him.

Pastry: *Holds his hand* Then please tell me about him. Tell me about our son.

*Red Velvet's eyes widen, tears threatening to fall. He swallowed his sadness down before speaking.*

Red Velvet: I made Strawberry Cream when I was eighteen. I had found Dark Mom's lab. I was messing around with her materials and the next thing I knew, I had created a Freshly-Baked. He was so small and innocent. He could fit in my claw. *looks at his Cake hand*

Pastry: *places her hand in his Cake hand*

Red Velvet: As I looked at him, I remembered thinking...I don't know what she would do when she finds him. Is she going to take him from me? Will she make him a warrior? Will I get to see him? I didn't want that for him.

Pastry: What did you do?

Red Velvet: *sighs* I went to the closest village and dropped him off to a family that was better than me. But a year later...the village was destroyed. Nothing was left. Everything was gone.

Pastry: *her heart drops* Oh, Velvet. *pulls him in a hug*

*Red Velvet hugs her back and silent tears fall. Pastry could hear a hiccup or two escape from him. All she could do is rub his back as he cried. This goes on for a good minute before Red Velvet pulls away.*

Red Velvet: *wipes his tears away* Sorry about that. I...I didn't want you to see me like this.

Pastry: *helps wipe his tears away* Don't you dare apologize. What you went through...I can't imagine going through that.

Red Velvet: Hell...I couldn't even find his body so I couldn't create a grave for him.

Pastry: ...You didn't find his body.

Red Velvet: No.

Pastry: Then there's a chance we can find him! He might still be alive! We can use the same spell that Cream Puff used to find Lilybell. And if he wants to, he can come home with us.

Red Velvet: *eyes widen* You really want him to live with us?

Pastry: Of course. He is our child, just like Capsaicin and Pond Dino. Even if we aren't married, Strawberry Cream is my son too.

*Red Velvet could feel a smile form on his face. He leaned in and gently kissed Pastry. He pulled away and kneeled in front of her.*

Pastry: Velvet?

Red Velvet: I wanted to ask you this for the past week but things just keep happening. *Pastry tilts her head* I had a whole speech for it but...ha...screw it. *Red Velvet pulls out a small black box and opens it to reveal a beautiful red ring. Pastry covers her mouth and tears start to form.* I don't think I can spend another day without you by my side. Pastry...will you marry me?

Pastry: Yes! *throws her arms around his neck* Yes, you dummy!

*Red Velvet stands up with her in his arms and spins her around, laughing joyfully.*

[prythianpages]

ACOTAR Tag Game

Thank you for the tag! @ninthcircleofprythian (you tagged my main but I'll post it on here <3 I also promise I didn't just copy & paste, we just have very similar minds bc I agreed with you on most of these lol)

Answer the questions below & tag whoever you want, or make it an open tag!!

Who's your favourite ACOTAR character?

Do I have to pick? It's so hard! But since I'm in my Eris era, I'll go with him rn.

Who's your least favourite character?

It's between Mor or Amren. Idk, I just don't really vibe with them as much.

Say something nice about your least favourite character.

I did like that Amren gave Feyre that ruby or jewelry to give her the courage to go back to the prison. That was sweet of her 🥹 & Mor for taking Feyre away from Spring.

Who's your favourite High Lord? (If you picked one for your fav character, then who's your second fav!)

It's also Helion. He seems like such a good time (; like mans has the best library in prythian and glorious thighs??? c'mon now

Favourite MINOR character?

The Suriel. I loooooove gossip and would literally just summon them for the tea.

Favourite ship? (Crackships included!)

Azris hehe. They'd be so hot together.

Favourite court and why?

This is hard to answer when SJM hasn't given us much info about other courts 😭 So I think I'd have to pick Summer Court because I love the ocean and if there are mermaids, it's over for me there. I love them!

Make up a brand new court RIGHT NOW, NO PREP JUST VIBES.

OOhh! Umm...idk what I would name it but it would be nice if there was a court inspired by Dia De Los Muertos/ Day of the Dead. Like an underworld type of court where the High Lord/Lady there can helping the souls of prythian after they die and somehow it's associated with Starfall. Marigold Court? idk lol Like I said lame name but cool concept.

What relationship would you have wanted to see more of in the books?

Honestly, I would sell my soul for a pre-ACOTAR book that focuses on the Bat Boy friendship. Like when Cas mentioned waking up naked with some decoration around him? And Az hiccuping when drunk?? I NEED to know more.

What's your unpopular opinion?

Idek if this is unpopular but I do feel for Tamlin. He did fuck up but given other characters have also fucked up, I really hope he gets a redemption arc or is able to pick himself up. Like dude is really going through it and so are his people, someone pls save Spring I also kinda wished Amren had stayed dead. I don't hate her character but it felt too good to be true when both her and Rhys died and then they came back to life. It would've had more impact if one of them stayed dead.

What's your favourite headcanon/fan canon?

Right now? These body headcannons from @readychilledwine

If you were to be swept away to Prythian, what's ONE thing you would want to do?

I would want to experience Starfall with the IC. I love looking at the sky, especially stars and the moon and with all those hotties? Sign me tf up.

If you could have ONE faerie ability seen in the books, which would it be?

I would love to control water! Blame my mermaid fascination & h2O tv show addiction for this haha. But also making water wolves sounds so cool.

no pressure tags: @stormhearty, @daycourtofficial, @milswrites, @sarawritestories, @sillysillygoose444,

@acotarxreader, @pit-and-the-pen, @lady-of-tearshed

[canon-fcdder]

Without warning, Peri flies into Dev's arms, wrapping his own around the child's neck. He makes sure to hold him tight, but not tight enough to hurt, just like his parents had always hugged him. " I'm sorry, Dev. I'm so sorry, but I can't grant that wish. You don't deserve to be alone. And I'm not going to be the one who leaves you like this. " or how the birthday episode should have ended - ✧ ˖ ˙ 「 @cielsmuses 」 ˙ ˖ ✧

「 ☆ 」 Fairy Godparents are supposed to make things easier… They’re magic. They’re specifically assigned to ❛ miserable ❜ kids. Their sole purpose— as far as Dev is aware —is to take terrible circumstances, wave their wands and twist things around to be BETTER. But Peri didn’t fix this. He wasn’t there when Dev needed him. He wasn’t there. Now that he is— there’s nothing he can do. He may as well be gallivanting about doing whatever it is faeries do when their godkids have no use of them. Maybe they do the same thing kids do when their parents set them aside.

Just… try to pretend they don’t mind it.

His dad was gone. Was never even there to begin with. Hazel was gone. Pushed away with an ease that scares Dev as much as it relieves him. Peri… isn’t gone. He’s supposed to be. But, as has become common with the fairy, Dev’s wish goes un-granted. Only this time it’s not because of the rules. It’s because— … Stiffening when arms are abruptly around him, it takes a second for Dev to even realize what’s happening. Brain struggles to tear itself from the fog of shock, the boy still as a statue. Not even breath seems to shake his form. Wide eyes, unseeing where they gaze off into the depths of his dad’s ❛ secret evil lair ❜ — as expected of a Dimmadome, even if Dev hadn’t understood that until this moment —blink, dull hues brightening back to consciousness.

Slowly… tentatively…. arms wrap around Peri. Shaky hands holding onto the back of his shirt with a whisper of a grip, such a far cry from the firm hold the fairy has on him. Like he wants to be sure Dev understands he won’t be ripped away. That he doesn’t want to be, no matter how much he should. Dev had yelled at him, after all… It’s scary when people yell. Although, perhaps it isn’t when Dev does it. He’s not big enough. He doesn’t realize his grip has tightened until his hands hurt from the strain, tears brimming to blur blue hues before trailing down his face.

Expression crumples like— … Well, like a little kid. Dev feeling more like one than he ever has before. Go figure, on his tenth birthday— double digits; a big kid —he’d bawl like a baby. It’s been a while since he cried like this. Really cried. He wants his dad. Hiding his face in the embrace, he hiccups and fights for breath, reminded of how uncomfortable it is to fall apart. Dads are supposed to be there when their kid cries. After what feels like forever, he manages to breathe enough to speak. But all Dev can think to say is— ❝ Wh-Why… Why doesn’t he care about me? ❞ Weakly sobbed with a raw desperation, as if Peri has the answer. As if somehow… his fairy godparent really could make everything better.

He can… Right? Peri can help him. Please. Please, help him.

❝ What am I doing wrong? ❞ 「 ☆ 」