#fairy!reaper

[fairy-verse]

: ̗̀➛ Quiet, part 4

Strange fairies may be, but stranger still are the shadows who come from beyond the veil, and those whose appearance may frighten most of all could, in truth, be the answer you seek.

There was an eeriness that could never be chased no matter how many lanterns or torches were strung up within the halls of Error’s Mountain kingdom, and yet it never chased away stray travellers or common visitors, for the chiselled walls and curved archways urged one to approach; to explore the unknown and see where the flickering lights came from. Shadows may dance upon the tall walls or within hidden corners, but instead of chasing you, they waved you to them.

Killer, to this day, could not deny the intrigue that filled him as he flew through corridors, into narrow chambers, through icy crevasses, and finally into the great mountain hall itself where the ceiling stretched too high to see and strange roots hung from various heights, all holding onto intricately crafted lanterns that housed nests for the winter fairies. From those lights of green, blue, red, purple, and pink flickered across the walls nearby, vanishing into the darkness of various chasms that led to different parts of the kingdom, all so plentiful Killer couldn’t possibly explore all of it in his lifetime.

“Have you ever been lost in here?” asked Killer, flying beside Cross as he glanced down, seeing but a faint, thin stream of light from far below; the lava river from which many fairies would use as a guiding light to the different mines. Killer repressed the shudder which threatened to break through him, recalling the story told about Horror and how many fairies must likely fear the same happening to them as they mine away in narrow shafts and low chambers.

“Not so much anymore,” said Cross, approaching the smithing alcove to the western end of the great hall. Clanks and hisses grew in volume the nearer they came, and he smiled but for a moment as he recalled all the projects he’d worked on there; the armour, swords, tiaras, and the likes he’d created. A winter fairy, even he as a hybrid, could not help but feel proud of their creations. “I stay away from darkened corridors and silent chambers. You’d be surprised by how many winter fairies have grown strange from staying in them for too long, or from getting lost…” said he, glancing up and catching sight of a darkened shadow amongst shadows emerging from a hidden alcove, empty sockets catching his eyelights. Shuddering, he cast his gaze away, slowing his flight before landing upon solid rock.

Another fairy, one which stole Killer’s attention completely, approached with lazy steps. Iridescent blood, partly congealed with but a few droplets dripping and trickling, glittered from a ghastly gash going from his collarbone and to the opposite hipbone. It made Killer openly gape in shock, though Cross was quick to click his mouth shut.

“Come to finally complete your forgotten tasks, Cross?” asked the fairy, not even acknowledging Killer in the slightest.

“Not yet, Geno,” said Cross, dragging a hand across his face. “We’ve come to check up on Error on behalf of Nightmare.” Geno’s face didn’t change, though his eyelights lit up with curiosity. “Have you seen him at any point throughout this winter?”

“No,” said Geno, seeming uninterested. “Our firstborn does as he pleases. It’s not for us to pry into what he does.”

“Perhaps not,” said Killer, cutting off Cross before he could speak. “But this winter has been unusually warm and irregular, and the beloved firstborn of autumn is highly concerned, so wouldn’t it be in your best interest to assure that your winter queen is safe and sound?”

Geno didn’t fall for the bait, face unchanging. “Error has lived for millennia and will be here long after we are gone,” said he, staring Killer down. “We may ponder and scheme all we like, but he may do as he pleases, and we are only required to soothe and support whenever he desires it. If he wishes to be alone, then who are we to argue with him?”

“Ugh,” Killer moaned, rolling his skull and shifting his weight. “Is your laid-back attitude the reason for why you haven’t tended to that death wound of yours?” he asked, earning a heated glare from Cross and a sharp hush.

Geno only smiled, and Killer felt a prickle at the back of his neck, prompting him to glance behind him to see a moving shadow disappear into a chasm, howling faces disappearing into the dark. Shuddering, he returned his gaze to Geno who still smiled at him, his own eyelights having clearly seen the shadow too, though they were knowledgeable and unafraid.

“Ignore him,” said Cross, sighing and pushing Killer onto the ledge of the alcove, readying himself to take flight once more. “I’m sorry for bothering you, Geno. I’ll let you continue with supervising the smithing progress.”

“Take care of yourself, Cross,” said Geno, keeping the hybrid stuck to the spot with a stare alone. “And don’t feel discouraged. You’re doing well with this task you’ve been appointed. Keep at it and you may receive the answers you seek.” And nodding to release him, Geno turned, silken wings shimmering beneath the torchlight, so uncannily like Error’s that it made Cross pause for but a second before leaving.

“I always thought Nightmare’s underground kingdom was the most magical and unnerving place I’d ever seen, but this place takes every honour imaginable,” said Killer, catching spying eyelights peeking out from hanging lanterns and shadowed chasms and passages.

“Winter fairies are born of a different making than other fairies, Killer,” said Cross, approaching a darkened lantern which hung by its lonesome, further down where few others hang on elder roots, all far away from each other. “We may be similar to autumn fairies when it comes to a certain distinctness and strangeness, but we are first and foremost knights and warriors, and to be fearless in the face of a mighty troll or the vicious big folk, we must be conditioned to handle that which is abnormal and terrifying,” said he, landing upon the platform before the lanterns crooked door.

“None here seem that warriorlike, though,” said Killer, following Cross into the lantern, the interior cast in darkness before purple crystals lit up at their presence, casting the space in a magical glow. It was sparse, one corner dedicated to nesting with its fullness of wool and fur, with the rest of the space decorated with but a few hanging weapons and sitting baskets of dried fruits and meat.

Cross chuckled, and Killer glanced at him, seeing him smile.

“Not all winter fairies are similar to the ones you see patrolling the borders, Killer,” said Cross, taking a breath and releasing it, shoulders relaxing. “Some are born with great might and presence to stand up and fight beneath the sky, others are born with perseverance and patience to do nothing but smith their whole lives.” Trailing clawed gauntlets across an ancient sword, one much too delicate for Cross’s strength, but well cherished with memories Killer couldn’t even begin to imagine attached to it. “But some are born with the winter’s deathly touch and silence, and they struggle in the shadows, keeping away that which tries to creep its way from beyond the veil and into our territory.”

“The veil?” asked Killer, remembering the riddles Lumin often spewed that made his skull swim. “Why would anything wish to come from there? Isn’t there some untold harmony between us and it? I mean, we’re fairies; some of the strangest things existing in the world, right?”

“In our world, yes,” said Cross, looking at him—nay, behind him. “But there are stranger things that have found their way into our home, and we need knights and warriors that can protect us from them, or else we may face the chance of living a fearful life forevermore.” Approaching, he summoned his sword, his face hardening. “And I may not be one of them, but I am not a coward,” he hissed, taking Killer by the shoulder and pulling him back, turning him around as he did so. “So, tell me, why are you in my nest?”

And standing beyond the threshold of Cross’s ancestral lantern home, a shadow loomed, tall and slender with wings decorated with howling faces, screaming their woes from beyond the veil. A hand with phalanges much too long reached out, turning upwards in either greeting or peace. Empty sockets stared back at them, much alike Killer’s, yet all too different.

“Our firstborn…” said the shadow, voice an ethereal echo that both awed and unnerved Killer’s soul. “His soul darkens; grows colder by each day passing.”

“Our firstborn?” asked Cross, voice harsh and mistrusting. “My firstborn, perhaps. Not yours.”

“Mine, too,” said the shadow, partly hidden face smiling sadly. “Half of me, as he is half of you.”

“Cut the crap!” said Cross, shouting and glaring heatedly. “What do you want? You do not belong here, so how dare you—”

“Lower your sword, Cross,” came the voice of Geno, and he stepped out from behind the shadow, a beacon of white light in contrast to the dark by his side. “It’s unnecessary.”

“G—Geno?” Cross stammered and stared; shocked.

“Nightmare save us,” said Killer, flopping down upon his bottom, smile crooked and confused and delighted all at the same time. There’s been too much excitement, too much happening, yet he felt ready to tackle it all despite the weakness of his knees, if only to have one hell of a story to tell Nightmare later.

Previous / Next Music: Rune Realms – Midnight Snowdrifts

[nefarrilou]

Prompt: Fairy Ring ʚ💀ɞ The Woodland Goddess who collects the souls of the deceased, even those of their loved ones.

Also she's the granny of this lovely lady 🤎

Woodland Goddess Genetics Hair | Skintone + tints  | Wrinkles 1 + 2 + 3 | Eyes | Wings | Blossoms | Fairy Glitter Clothes Dress | Gloves Accessories Veil | Necklace

Loved One Genetics Hair | Beard Clothes Outfit Accessories Glasses

✦ Simblreen 2023 [ x ]

C R E A T O R S

Woodland Goddess Genetics @daylifesims @lamatisse @crilender @okruee @viiavi

@northernsiberiawinds @scyllasims @dansimsfantasy @pyxiidis

Clothes @kmcreations @usamarusims

Accessories @zouyousims @usamarusims

Loved One Genetics @johnnysimmer @veigasims

Clothes @lady-moriel

Accessories @pralinesims

[proudartmaker]

Happy Halloween 2024 🎃✨(i'm late.🥲)

Characters from my JSAB AU.

Characters

Boss: Vampires Hunter🔫

Cutie Cube: Vampire🦇

Beat Kaiser: Warlock📜

Player: Witch 🧹

And I these are all my JSAB Halloween arts i drew in each year. (From newest to oldest.)

2023: Dullahan, Pumpkin Witch ,Grim Reaper and Vampire. (Short Comics for this year available on Instagram i can't post them because pictures is limit)

2022: Vampire ,Dullahan ,Witch and Demon.

Extra: Vampire Kittens!!

2021: Grim Reaper ,Warlock ,Witch and Fairy.

2020: Witch ,Demon ,Vampire and Werewolf

And Oldest Art (Actually it was my first serious art)

2019: Witch ,Demon ,Vampire and Werewolf

End. Thank you.

[candiedcaiman]

[little-things-love]

While I was walking along Park Road in Liverpool, there was this patch of grass that these seagulls were hovering over. I might have just missed someone who had thrown out some stale bread, or perhaps a bin had tipped over.

[honeylikesyanderes]

male ocs dick descriptions (pt. 2)

i was thinking about dick again. but like non-human edition?

(sorry for disappearing)

teehee (also part 3?)

18+ mdni please, not proof-read.

----------------------------------------------------

ren

uncircumcised, can adjust the length of his dick at will, but usually keeps it between 7-7.5 inches long, not too girthy but still a good amount of girth, has red vertical birthmarks (matching the ones on his face) that run from the beginning of his foreskin all the way to the base,

his tip is slightly on the thinner side, albeit still thick. his dick does not curve. for hair, ren prefers to keep a tuft of white hair present; not only because he's a fox, but also to protect his darling from intense friction that may occur during sex.

his balls are intimidatingly big and heavy. when he cums, he cums in very thick and creamy spurts that are a slight off-white colour. regardless of how many rounds ren goes, he still cums a copious amount. the amount he cums increases during heats.

ren is a grower, however the difference between him flaccid and him erect isnt that much.

the hex code for his shaft is #EBD9A1 and for his tip its #E67B59. the hex code for the lines on his dick is #C13313

icarus

about 6.5 inches long, very girthy (almost unbearably so), has a couple of thinner veins but they become more pronounced when he's really turned on.

his tip is very thick but turns deep red when he's hard. if you tease him long enough, it will turn so red that it'll start to look a bit purple. his dick is thick all through, but you swear that when he slides in, that the base feels thicker.

for hair, icarus is keeps it completely shaved, as per angel customs. his balls are above average sized and when he's close to cumming, they start to visibly swell. when he cums, his cum is pure white like snow, but with a slight shiny glow to it. its thick like custard and tastes like honey.

icarus is a shower, however there is an increase in his girth when he's flaccid vs when he's hard. he is circumsised as per angel customs.

the hex code for his shaft is #E2B767 and for his tip is #B94F42

avanti

uncircumcised, 7.5 inches, girthy and very thick. avanti's been told that his dick most definitely doesn't match his cute frame.

very veiny all over; he has a thick mushroom tip that leaks a fuck ton of precum even when he's slightly hard. his dick curves upwards (and quite dramatically as well).

for hair, avanti tries to keep it trimmed, but he just ends up forgetting so he'sa bit bushy down there. fortunately, his hair is very soft so its usually no bother. when he does remember to keep things trimmed, you'll see that he has freckles on his pelvic area, and they go all the way up to his v line. his balls are average and taut, he's a bit insecure about it, but he's sensitive enough to forget about his insecurity when you're playing with his balls. when he cums, he cums in about 5 short bursts. the quantity is variable, but usually its a lot. his cum is a very soft yellow colour with a strong (but not unpleasant) smell. when he's in heat, he cums much much more and the smell is much stronger as well.

avanti is a grower and the difference between his flaccid dick and his hard on, is a lot.

bonus: his cum slightly glows in the dark.

the hex code for his shaft is #EFEAC7 and for his tip is DD8BB1

drew

circumcised (he was a christian in his first life), 8 good inches, and very thick. its heavy to hold and looks even heavy in his trousers. if you cant handle dick, you most definitely cant handle drew.

his dick is very veiny, with veins running from the tip all the way doen the shaft. he does have a few veins that start from mid-shaft and run downwards. his tip is mushroom but relativelythe same size as his shaft. his dick does not bend in any direction

for hair, drew is neatly clean shaven always, but its mostly because he's incapable of growing pubic hair due to his grim reaper status. his balls are just like his cock; heavy and massive.

the most standout thing about drew is actually the fact that he has black tendrils that can come out during sex. they're shadowy and whispy, however when he uses them to hold you in place (or even penetrate you in some instances), they materialise into solid bodies. [basically they look shadowy until they touch you, then they become solid]

when he cums, he cums 1 long spurt of thick semi-transparent cum, followed by 2 shorter spurts. his cum is a slight gray colour (think milk mixed with a bit of activated charcoal).

drew is a shower, and a proper one at that.

the hex code for his shaft is #F6F0F0, and for his tip is #F4CCCC

(i dont have enough energy to do atlas, plus there's not enough reader interest in him so)

[rainmacaroni]

Fire & Ice

Erza & Rukia

They are sisters !

[hileynoteson]

i had a vision and i created it

[riacte]

Ren's stream, 16:23

Ren: Look, here's the problem everybody. I have agreed with my own self to not kill False. I will not kill my homie. False is my homie; it's not gonna happen. I know this feels like some sort of a long con or something, y'know, like this is the ultimate psychological way to get False, but I'm just not going to do it. So False is already off the list.

18:40

Ren: Hopefully there won't be any False destruction out here in the neighbourhood y'know, it's such a peaceful place out here. We don't want to see our homie False getting taken out. If I see any other reapers sniffing around my False, I might quietly ask them to leave the area.

I'm sorry but the more he mentions it, the funnier it'll be if he ends up killing her lmfao. He's gonna be so distraught that he'll volunteer to be her lackey for the rest of the season and she promptly overthrows him and makes him pay for his twaddle crimes.

[fairy-verse]

Alright... Fea Reaper... let's think about it.(　ﾟ 3ﾟ")~🎵

The world is riddled with mysteries big and small, and the fairies of Fairy Island are no strangers to the odd and fascinating of their quaint little world. They need not travel far to see something strange, feel something peculiar, or smell something otherworldly. Though they are so accepting of much of it, there are some instances where even they feel unnerved, be it a hybrid that they do not understand, or something else entirely that is beyond their comprehension.

They pride themselves on knowing more than the Big Folk, but there is much they, too, do not understand, and even when they have someone they may ask for answers, they’d be hard-pressed to feel enlightened by the conversation as riddles turn them around in circles. Infuriating.

Reaper, named so by his mother who passed far too soon, is a fairy many will avoid. He is shy, drawn back, velvet voice so softly spoken you’d hardly be able to hear him, and so unnerving to other fairies. His proportions seem a little off, though except for his too-long fingers, few can properly put a name to what they find wrong. Reaper just is wrong in all that he does, all that he is. His gaze feels void and all-knowing, his tall lanky figure looming despite his attempts to hunch and make himself smaller, his wings are wrong, wrong, wrong. He is wrong.

He weeps silently, emitting no sound as he caresses his cheeks; self-soothing. His hands, so cold and shimmery white, have a fatal touch. A winter fairy may survive a moment of contact with him, but as those hands touch them, they’ll begin to feel cold, so very cold, and all warmth and life begin to ebb out of them, like a breath stolen in the winter wind.

It is not Reaper’s intent to harm others, but he cannot control what powers he’s been cursed with. He does not know where they come from. Not from his mother, who had always been so careful and sweet, but rarely had she spoken of his father, always wishing to change the subject.

“He would have loved you, my faerling. He would have loved you.” Rarely would she say more than that, and Reaper understood it as a fact that he was dead, long gone before his birth, but the look in his mother’s eyes hinted at something different, yet she never elaborated; never explained. Had she wanted to wait until he matured? Had she hoped she’d die before the time came? Before he demanded answers? He’d never know, because she was gone. She was gone, and so was the knowledge of whom his father was and who he’d been.

Reaper’s accursed life must be from his father. How could it not be? He’d left and he’d never come back, never even as much as thought about Reaper and his mother; surely. Perhaps he’d known what Reaper would become, known that his bastard faerling would become a monster in every sense of the word. He must have known that it was his fault. It was his fault. It was his fault that Reaper was this way, and Reaper hated him. He hated him.

Oh, how easy it is to blame those who are not present to defend themselves, and Reaper must weep, because he wishes he knew why he was like this. Why? Why?!

“You bring forth a new life, knowing it will be accursed, and you flee from it like all else does, Father,” said Reaper, silvery tears trickling over shimmering bones, so beautiful and fair. “And you named me Reaper, Mother. You knew of what I was, what curse I held, and you named me accordingly before you, too, fled from me.” Dryly, he chuckled and sunk further into the snow surrounding him. He could not feel the cold.

[inspiredrawaw]

I think drawing fanart of Fairly Odd Parents a new wish and thinking of a fae changling gravity falls OC has GREATLY affect my original story Opal Reapers. And it’s FUN

[tsukuyomiland]

The best fairytales, by Yumiko Igarashi

Spanish edition by Arechimanga, translated by Sandra de Lamo.

[fairylandblog]

Ankou, Faerie Grim Reaper

Often referred to as the faerie Grim Reaper, Ankou is a haunting creature with profound roots in Breton tradition. Ankou, a symbol of death and its harbinger, comes from Brittany, a region of France with a strong Celtic tradition. Ankou is frequently shown as a tall, shadowy person with long, flowing hair and a serious expression, in contrast to the more widely accepted picture of the grim reaper as a skeletal figure dressed in black. His role of leading souls to the afterlife is inevitable, not malicious. By fusing aspects of Christian influence, Celtic mysticism, and fairy tradition, the stories and iconography surrounding Ankou represent the Breton people's distinct relationship with death. Legend has it that the first person to pass away in a parish each year is given the title of Ankou, rather than being a unique entity. This person is thought to assume the job of Ankou for the upcoming year, acting as a psychopomp who gathers the deceased's spirits and leads them to their ultimate resting place. The idea that death is an inevitable component of existence is emphasized by this cyclical element of the legend, which also serves to underscore themes of mortality and continuity. According to legend, Ankou rides phantom horses in a dark, creaking cart called the Karrigell an Ankou. It is believed that the sound of the cart wheels portends the death of someone in the vicinity.

Despite his solemn role, people do not perceive Ankou as malevolent or spiteful. Instead, people view him as an essential character, carrying out a responsibility that upholds the orderly progression of life and death. People frequently depict his manner as solemn and objective, mirroring the impartiality and inevitability of death itself. Several stories further bind him to the magical realm through the presence of spectral faeries or shadowy aids. Ankou's relationship to the otherworld—a world that runs parallel to the mortal plane in Breton and Celtic mythology—is emphasized by these fairy characteristics. Many of the stories about Ankou emphasize his relationship with liminality—the boundaries between the mortal and otherworlds, between life and death. For example, encounters with Ankou frequently take place around crossroads, cemeteries, and woodlands since these locations are typically seen as transitional areas where the line separating realms becomes blurred. He frequently cautions travelers not to tamper with his work, fearing it could bring bad luck or even death. The Breton belief in respect for death and the supernatural is reflected in the possibility of protection for humble and respectful people in his presence. In Breton oral tradition, Ankou also plays a significant role, and his tales are frequently cautionary ones. According to folklore, locals mock his presence or ignore the menacing creak of his wagon, only to die tragically. These stories remind listeners of the transience of life and the importance of valuing the unknown. Occasionally, Ankou demonstrates his role as a moral arbiter in folklore by punishing pride, avarice, or cruelty.

Despite having Celtic roots, Ankou's tale has changed over time, including Christian elements that highlight the soul's journey to the afterlife. In this context, Ankou transcends ethnic barriers and becomes a more universal emblem of mortality. His function as the faerie equivalent of the grim reaper unites the ethereal and the earthly realms, fusing the gloomy certainty of death with the mystique of the faerie world. In the end, Ankou represents humanity's nuanced relationship with death and is a significant and timeless figure in Breton folklore. He provides an eerie and profoundly contemplative viewpoint, serving as a reminder of the fleeting nature of existence and the mysteries of the hereafter. Ankou is a faerie psychopomp that not only foretells death but also acts as a guide, making sure that the deceased's souls make it to the afterlife. Because it provides a timeless examination of mortality, reverence for the unknown, and the eternal bond between the living and the dead, his mythology is still relevant today.

[rainbow-neko-artblog]

THE MAY MERCH RELEASE IS HERE!

New designs on Redbubble!

Check out these graphics bABYYYYYY!!! We got FAIRIES! WE GOT BORROWERS! Andddddd we got a little silly and a little BADASS!

[rwac96]

Type:Prompt

Au:Original male stud Au Crossover Au

Fandom:Blazblue,Tale of berseria,RWBY,Metroid,Fairy Tale

Character:Ragna/Velvet/Erza/Samus/Winter

Summary:It been a Year since Ragna lovers/Wifes had successfully gotten pregnant with his kid after their last mother day and with this new year and mother day approaching he spend time with his childrens and his wife as he prepares the day for them to show how much he appreciated the four of them as well as keep the kids company so they can enjoy the celebration that he had planned for them.

Meme:Mother day.

"My hands are full as it is," Ragna the Bloodedge replied with a deadpan expression, as he held a small, cooing blonde baby girl. Her tiny hands pawing at her father's face. "Celica," he hushes his child with Samus Aran, "Celica, Daddy'll be with ya in a moment." The infant cooed in response.

Celica's brother, a black-haired replica of Ragna squealed, was placed in a harness on the Reaper's back, while Celica was placed on the torso. Arthur, the Grim Reaper's son with Velvet, squirmed to get his father's attention. The silver-haired swordsman exhales, internally grateful for Klein and Markarof assisting him with the baby harnesses; due to Erza and Winter's boys being named after them.

"You look so precious," Samus gushed at Ragna, taking pictures of her baby daddy.

"So much for the fearsome Grim Reaper," The Lord of Calamity joked, approaching Ragna as she scoops up a fussy Arthur, calming him down. "Hey, hey, Mommy's here."

"I think you look pleasant, Ragna" Winter said, holding her son Klein Schnee.

"You do look adorable," Erza winks to the father of her child, a boy with scarlet hair who resembles Ragna as Arthur does.

[rielzero]

Well.. I did a bunch more of those shading assist renders. Good exercise. These are all from past year (and before?) refsheets, just now shaded and rendered. Now a bunch of my ocs have fancier icons rather than flatcolor stuff on toyhouse. Was fun to do.

Might do a few more. It's a good way to warm up in january tbh.