#ithaca is faeries

[rachelillustrates]

My fellow Ithacans!! (And people who are within driving distance): I will be at Ithaca Artist Market one week from tomorrow 🧚💗🧚

Come visit me and over 80 other local/regional artisans – including food vendors, live music, spirits (though not the kind I draw, to my knowledge), access to an evening boat tour AND a raffle!!

Information here, and register here to be entered into the raffle (and give helpful information to the powers that be!).

🍃💚 Learn more about the Community Arts Partnership’s Ithaca Artist Market at ArtsPartner.org 💚🍃

~

Bonus art and stories ~ Prints, comics and more!

[bloodtwin]

Puck is such a fun character and I can't help but smile and even chuckle when I read what you write with her --- doubly so when it's shenanigans with Iago. It's obvious you put a lot of love into him. Truly I just enjoy Puck as a character; an absolute favorite. You and Puck are a joy to write with. ♡

SOURCE: TELL ME WHAT YOU HONESTLY LIKE ABOUT MY OC ！

HEHEHE >:3c thank u sm ... i really do love to write shenanigans with puck & her siblings. family is such an important part of his story, so it's def my favorite part. and of course i love to get sillay :P

[technicolor-rhapsody]

The woman was arrayed in purple and scarlet colour And decked with gold and precious stones and pearls Having a golden cup in her hand Full of abominations and filthiness of her fornication

THE QUEEN ATOP THE BEAST

[demonwebs]

overall I just love vhaal as a character. it's obvious you've put a lot of thought into him. I think it's neat too that you delve into Szarkai, and have weaved the lore into something more just by using the small scraps of information that given about them. reading your writing and replies is truly a treat.

Anonymously send me your favorite detail about how I play my character.

crying real life tears that u actually put yourself through the pain of reading all of those paragraphs to interact with this moron . that was such a fever dream to write, it means everything to me u can validate my insanity and appreciate my nonsense, u have no idea, love u sm buddy <3

[a-heros-legacy-project]

Book one: chapter 3; A very horse-y ride

■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■ pages 1 2 2.2 3 info

》 mom? Where are we even going? 《

》 i thought that was obvious laertes. We're going to Ithaca, Greece. 《

●○●○●○●○●○●○●○●○●○●○●○●○●○●○●○●○●○●

Now listen, im not going to describe the entire flight. That's just absurd. But I will give you some highlights;

● a cute girl kept on twirling her braids and glancing at me from the seat diagonal from me. My mom spotted that and pointed it out to me, grinning like a madman (er... madwoman?) As she looked at the girls father, she seemed like she knew him. I heard her mutter something under her breath " ɪˈkɛəriəs " but I was too distracted to pay attention to the name.

● as we passed over the ocean i felt so sick to my stomach. Normally I don't get seasick, im used to travelling but....this just felt weird.

》this is a normal reaction to passing over posidons watery domain.... don't worry about it too much, he loves holding grudges《

Odysseus tried his best to reassure me, but it did nothing to soothe me

After a long while (and nap) we arrived in Greece.

My mom had apparently made many calls while I was packing my bags, because there was a limo driver holding up our last name.

My jaw fell open.

Not for the fact that my mom had apparently enough money to be able to afford it, I knew that she made a fair bit teaching them, but for the fact that our driver was dressed in full Greek battle armour wity a sword in his hand.

Oh and the fact that his bottom half was that of a horse!

》chiron...oh my gods, that's chiron, isn't it?《 I was so shocked as I muttered that that I was frozen in place.

》yes, that's him.....《 she smiled softly and walked up to him, leaving no choice for me to follow.

Intrestingly enough, the girl and her I saw on the plane was headed in the same direction as me

Now that I got a closer look at her, (which was probrably a bad idea due to the fact I looked looked like a ripe tomato) I noticed some faint freckles on her deep auburn skin, and absolutely captivating seablue-like eyes hidden behind green glases that i could just get lost in-

No!! Not thinking about this now.... I scolded myself and forced myself to look at chiron.

Said centaur then looked at the girl beside be, eyeing her back-pack and rather big suitcase.

》Asteria.... it's a pleasure to have you back, im sure sir. A will be glad to see you again. This is your fifth year now, yes? 《

The girl, whom I now identified as Asteria nodded curtly, smiling up at him.

His eyes then wandered to mine, looking at the dog-cage hebe was still in, his eyes widening as he noticed how little baggage i actually had.

》 Ah, you must be laertes, yes? Hm....your mother told me much about you, though I didn't expect to see you so soon.....you're so young...《

Now it was my turn for my eyes to widen and wander.

Asteria looked about just as old as me, but chiron had said she'd been there for five years, so she must have been around eight when-

Asteria looked at me, as if sensing my silent question.

》Ah.....yes, according to everyone opinion, the age i came in here was .....rather special. It's nice to meet you , erm, laertes, was it? 《 she tucked her braids behind her ear and i noticed that her ears were a bit pointy, like a faerie! I thought it was adorable.

》 y-yes, it's a pleasure to meet you too, asteria.....《

My mom and her dad stared at eachother, sharing a knowing look as they said their thanks to chiron.

I looked so confused as my mom pressed a kiss to my forehead

》 chiron and the others at the training place will explain everything to you. I'll see you soon Faolan, stay as safe as you can....《

Chiron smiled faintly and nodded to our parents and guiding us to the limo

》 um......no offence.....how are you...capable of driving?《

Asteria giggled as if I just cracked the best joke in the world, and I felt oddly proud of that.

Chiron chuckled as well, showing me how he sat down at the driver's seat:

His front hooves were infront of the gas and breaks, always quick to stop or move the car, and his back hooves were hidden in a hole in the spot where the seat would be, though the backrest was still intact. His seat was inclined to a strong degree , leaving me no other choice to sit in the middle seat.

Right beside asteria.

He started driving, and i started trying to strike up a conversation with asteria

》 so um....hi again....-《 I chuckled awkwardly 》 mind if I start talking to you?《

》hmn? Oh yeah, of course!《 she paused the musical playing on her headphones, looking straight at me.

》 e-erm......so uh.....where are you from?《 I blushed nervously

》oh, im from Australia on my father's side, and Spain from my mother's. I was never taught Spanish or anything like that though. You?《

》 Australia? Oh, the beaches there are absolutely stunning! Er, yes, i was raised in Britain for my whole life, though my mom is Greek and my dad was Filipino and Irish. 《

Her demeanour changed when she noticed how i spoke about my father in past tense, though she didn't say anything.

I was honestly so thankful for that, I hated receiving those pity messages from others.

I noticed chiron stare at us from the front mirror, his grey eyes bouncing from me to asteria.

I quickly changed the topic

》 so....asteria....do you have any nicknames?《

She was looking out of the window, at the beaches and forests passing by, smiling as she realised we were probably close.

》 hm......my friends usually call be "starry" or "aria" ......though I suppose you could come up with something else if you wanted《

I closed my eyes in thought, a normal habit i picked up from my mom before turning my eyes back to her 》 hm....what if I called you...... Kalos*?《 I smile lopsidely

She looked up at me in shock, her cheeks a very deep shade of maroon.

》 I'm just kidding, I think I'll call you ...... ari. Not very original, I know, but why not《

She smiled and nodded approvingly as the limo came to a stop.

》welcome《 chiron started

》to the training ground of legends!《

[starlixir]

◤❀Cнαrαcтer'ѕ Sтυdy: ✿◢

➤ Mᴀɢɪᴄ.

Aɴ ᴜᴍʙʀᴇʟʟᴀ ᴛᴇʀᴍ ᴛᴏ ʙᴇ ᴜsᴇᴅ ғᴏʀ ᴠᴀʀɪᴏᴜs ᴛʏᴘᴇs ᴏғ ᴍᴀɢɪᴄ ʙᴇɪɴɢ ᴜsᴇᴅ ᴀɴᴅ ᴅᴇᴘᴇɴᴅɪɴɢ ᴏɴ ᴡʜᴀᴛ ʙʀᴀɴᴄʜ ᴏғ ᴍᴀɢɪᴄ ʏᴏᴜ ʟᴏᴏᴋ ɪɴᴛᴏ, ᴛʜᴇʀᴇ ᴀʀᴇ ᴅɪғғᴇʀᴇɴᴛ ɴᴀᴍᴇs. Tʜᴇsᴇ ɴᴀᴍᴇs ʀᴀɴɢᴇ ғʀᴏᴍ ᴄᴜʟᴛᴜʀᴇ ᴛᴏ ᴄᴜʟᴛᴜʀᴇ ᴀɴᴅ ᴡᴏʀʟᴅs ᴛᴏ ᴡᴏʀʟᴅ, ᴛʜᴏᴜɢʜ, ɪɴ ᴛʜᴇ ᴇɴᴅ, ɪᴛ ғᴀʟʟs ᴅᴏᴡɴ ᴛᴏ ʙᴀsɪᴄᴀʟʟʏ ᴍᴀɢɪᴄ.

Sᴏᴍᴇ ᴡᴏʀʟᴅs ᴡɪʟʟ ᴄᴏɴsɪᴅᴇʀ ɪᴛ ᴀs ᴀ ᴍᴇʀᴇ sᴛᴏʀʏ. A ғᴀɪʀʏ ᴛᴀʟᴇ. Oᴛʜᴇʀs ʜᴀs ғᴜsᴇᴅ ɪᴛ ʜᴇᴀᴠɪʟʏ ɪɴᴛᴏ ᴛʜᴇɪʀ ᴄᴜʟᴛᴜʀᴇ. Sᴏᴍᴇ ᴇᴠᴇɴ ᴛʜɪɴᴋ ᴏғ ɪᴛ ᴀs ʙᴀᴅ.

❲Further information❳:

Magic comes in different forms as stated before.

Now, magic is restricted, depending on the frequency of the world. All worlds has some sort of frequency, ranging from low to high. Some worlds are low, which means the magic is either nonexistent or restricted to one kind of magic. Others are pretty high, which can mean they can have various of magic. Even deities, themselves, can be restricted on using their magic all the time.

Nobody is sure why this is happening at all. Many will theorize it, but in the end, it's the way of the universe.

Obviously, some magic will have severe consequences. Such as time magic (time manipulation or even time traveling) where, depending on what the person did, it could lead to something nobody wants. Or perhaps they want it. For example, the whole situation with Ithaca and Earth caused some kind of consequences where the dead from both worlds has gotten another chance at life. While this can be seen as a good thing, nobody is sure what will happen to those who has another chance at life.

❲Types of magic❳:

As stated before, the word, magic, is an umbrella term used to describe the general magic. Many will correct you exactly on not to use magic as it groups up everything under one place.

Magic can and will come in different forms. Another umbrella term to categories these things is separating them into spiritual, worship, scientific, and nature. All can actually coexist at the same time, going hand-in-hand, depending on the culture you are looking into. Such as spiritual and worship being almost the same yet different at the same time. Likewise to scientific being paired with any other. Sometimes nature and spiritual can coexist. Again, it depends on what you are looking into.

There are arcane, necromancing, divination, elemental, cosmic, the list goes on and go.

Some worlds will be restricted to one set. Such as one world only being limited to cosmic and can only use anything that deals with cosmic related magic. Manipulating time and reality itself or even dipping your toes into eldritch-like magic. Another world can be only based on elemental and nature magic, which means magic-users can only cast spells that deals with both the elements and nature itself. Like talking to animals, manipulating the earth, controlling water (but can be restricted on controlling actual rivers, oceans, and the likes), etc.

Ithaca isn't restricted at all. In fact, this world is capable of hosting a lot of magic that can range from eldritch-like magic to cosmic to even using spiritual magic. It's one of the few worlds that are capable of doing this.

On the other hand, Earth is restricted heavily in terms of magic. In other words, the low frequency Earth has is based on deities' magic, which is still restricted in many ways. What I mean is that if a deity wants to use their magic, it will take time to set everything in motion. It's like watering plants and watching it grow. Depending on the type of plant, it can grow quickly or it can take its sweet time.

Certain cultures will rely heavily on certain sets of magic.

In Ithaca, faeries relies heavily on nature. Newer faeries - ones that tangles with civilizations more - relies on iron and steel like magic (or something along those lines). The others relies on nature and elements, depending on where they are located.

Another example is sirens. Swamp sirens don't rely on magic as their fellow other sirens. Their magic is rare to see and is actually quite limited. Not because they don't have magic themselves, but because in their culture, magic is seen as a tool, only to be used when necessary and not something like breathing air. Deep sea sirens rely heavily on their magic.

[starcunin]

@faebhaal | cont’d from here.

Astarion can’t help but be captivated, his crimson eyes drinking in every detail of the scene before him: Ithaca’s lips slick with blood, the rich, intoxicating scent of iron filling the air between them. Her orchid-toned skin gleams with the viscera of the unfortunate soul now lying limp and forgotten on the cobblestones.

She is feral, unbound, and he marvels at it. At her.

He’s drawn closer as if by instinct, his fingers reaching out with a deliberate slowness, brushing against the scarlet smear staining her lips. The warmth of it lingers on his skin, and he brings those same fingers to his own mouth, savoring the taste like a connoisseur with fine wine. It’s sweet—sweeter than he remembers, more than it has any right to be. He smirks, a dangerous curve of his lips, and his voice drops to a purr as he leans in, the words sliding between them like velvet.

❛ You’re too good to me, ❜ he murmurs, each word laced with a seductive tease, but the affection beneath it is unmistakable. The distance between their bodies vanishes, his cool breath mingling with hers. He dips forward, not quite kissing her yet, but instead running his tongue over the slick surface of her mouth, savoring the mingled flavors of blood. It’s a reverent sort of worship, as if she’s become his personal altar to devotion and desire. It all feels less tainted now—now that he’s truly free—now that he knows she won’t become another one of Cazador’s meals or endless spawn.

But even as he revels in the taste of her, he catches the flicker in her eyes, that faraway glaze that tells him she’s not truly present. Not yet. It’s the Urge—her hunger made manifest, an all-too-familiar companion to his own. A memory of his own leash tightens in the back of his mind, a phantom echo of what he once was: trapped and ravenous, ever at the mercy of darker needs. A shudder ghosts along his spine, a mix of fear and excitement as he realizes how close he is to her when she’s like this—wild and untamed, a storm in human ( or faerie ) form.

Her hands rise, slowly, deliberately, winding around his shoulders. He doesn’t flinch. He opens his arms to her. He feels her press into him, and his tension melts away. He embraces her, opening himself to the closeness, the warmth of her body against his. It’s almost instinctive now, his need to feel her heartbeat against his own still chest.

She kisses him then, her mouth hot and stained, and he falls into it without hesitation, a soft, desperate sound escaping against her lips. It’s a sound he would have been mortified to make before, a sound that betrays how deeply he wants this, how much he wants her. He drinks in the taste like a man starved, letting his tongue slip past her lips to seek more, to claim whatever she’s willing to give. Blood coats his tongue, rich and metallic, and slightly sweet. And then, almost as quickly as she’d offered it, she pulls away, her breath ghosting against his mouth as she murmurs an apology. The word barely registers—he hears the hollow note beneath it, the lack of any true contrition. But oh, he finds that lack delightful. His lips curve into a slow smile, blood still painting the sharp lines of his mouth. He holds her gaze, the desire in his eyes softening into something almost tender as his thumb traces the edge of her jaw.

❛ Don’t be, ❜ he breathes, his voice like silk and shadow, teasing, affectionate. ❛ You know how I like it when you’re naughty. ❜ He leans in, pressing another kiss to her lips, this one softer, lingering. His free hand winds through the rose-petal waves of her hair, the strands slipping like silk between his fingers. For a moment, he lets himself bask in the closeness, in the strange, exhilarating intimacy that only she can offer him.

But practicality soon rears its head, tugging him back to the present, to the reality of where they are—standing over a corpse in the middle of the city, the night yet young but far too exposed. He pulls back slightly, just enough to murmur against her mouth, the edge of a smirk still curling his lips. ❛ But we should probably get out of here before someone finds us making out and bloodied over a corpse. ❜

[aikoiya]

Mythology Masterlist

Regarding IRL Myth:

Portrayals of Deities in Fanfiction

Portrayals of War Gods & Other Such Nonesense

Yōkai vs Kami

Werewolf Weaknesses

Redoing Disney's Hercules - A Compromise Between Myth & Revision

My Personal Interpretations:

DnD Subclasses & Profession Ideas

Dragon Forms

Draconic Crystomagic Infusion Magic

Fae Dragons

Dragon HCs

Wyrmlings & Dragon Pediatrics

Monster Diets

Not Mine:

Scientific Hypotheses About Fairies

The Dangers of Fairy Food

Faery Wine

Faery Food

Fairy Ring Fungi

Onmyoji

Werewolves & Water

Epic:

Penelope's Into Mpreg?? (Not Mine; also calculated how long it'd take to travel from Ithaca to The Spring & back.)

Calypso Discorce

Other Important Masterlists:

DP Ghost Zone Masterlist

Aikoiya's Writing Tips Masterlist - Has a list of links to all my other masterlists.

Aikoiya's Language Masterlist

[rachelillustrates]

Gallery Show!!

"If we shadows have offended / Think but this, and all is mended!!"

That is, my work will be on display from mid-October into November, at Angelhearts Diner here in Ithaca NY!! ✨ New start date due to unexpected delay. ✨

Though the month of the Orcs is upon us, I will be sharing pieces featuring all sorts of denizens of Faerie, so borrowed some wordage from The Bard for the theme this time. Ending reception will be November 1st, 5pm-8pm for Gallery Night - please come visit then or during the month, and talk fae with me that Friday if you're local and free (PLUS, delicious vegan food, HULLO) 💗

And thanks so much to everyone at Angelhearts for having me back! So grateful to get to show again in a space I appreciate SO much 🥰

~

Bonus art and stories ~ Prints, comics and more!

[catilinas]

Oooo shit…. I’m thinking about Nemo’s self-exile now and like… the self-exile in my faerie theory… like by choosing exile to the sun-world you are in fact choosing to literally die to go through the passage of time… that in comparison to Nemo’s social death and ghost status… the way the sea exerts pressure versus gravity after an eternity of weightlessness….. and on top of all that I ate his Name too…

idk much abt fairy myths but YEEEAAAAAA the vibes of it all...... he literally ate his name too. u know how literally the entire second half of the odyssey is odysseus' nostos and he goes through a whole bunch of deliberate False identities just So That the people who matter can be like. no actually i know you and you are odysseus. the cretan lie and all that. like his most famous false identity IS nobody and that IS in the unmoored unworldly fantasy timeless space of the apologoi...... BUT when he leaves polyphemus' island he names himself again! and when he returns to ithaca it's All About him getting his name and also social Aliveness As Odysseus back...... and then nemo's like. no ❤️

[technicolor-rhapsody]

Ithaca --- The Dark Urge, Bhaal's Chosen & most favored child.

[demonwebs]

"Here." In his palm Ithaca places a handful of gold. Nothing odd or unusual out of place. That is until just barely a couple of minutes later it's not gold he's holding but a variety of teeth. The oldest faerie trick in the book. / @faebhaal

Give the muse an object and see how they react.

for a second , just a second , he looks positively delighted ! there is even a small smile on the edges of his lips , but just as quickly as it came , it went . his expression turns sour : dark brows arched downward , peeved .

teeth . his gift turned into teeth in his hands . again . ❝ ... i can't believe you've done this . ❞ again !

[icarus-suraki]

weird asks: 4, 9, 15, 21, 40, 49, 61

Sorry for the late reply. My depression decided to sneak up behind me and steal my corpus callosum.

4. how did your elementary school teachers describe you?

I don't actually know, so I'm making this up based on what I recall... Bright but somewhat inattentive. Can't write a lowercase R in cursive to save her life (I got bad grades in handwriting all through 2nd grade). Sometimes anxious. Not a troublemaker at all; if she is disruptive, it's by accident more than by intent. Very creative and imaginative.

9. favorite smell in the summer?

There's this smell I'll come across in the evenings sometimes, especially when I'm driving home from work on these little country roads around here. I always thought it was clover, but I think it's maybe elderflower? It's sweet and floral, but not a "bright" sweetness; it's more of a dark floral, if that makes sense. Kind of low and evening-colored (that makes sense, right?). But it's fantastic to just find myself in a cloud of it on a humid evening. I will literally drive with my car windows open some nights just to smell it, it's that good.

15. favorite book you read as a school assignment?

This is tricky because the things that I liked the most weren't books, per se. I absolutely loved Hamlet and King Lear (King Lear is always associated with the Led Zeppelin "Stairway to Heaven" poster--long story). And I absolutely loved T. S. Eliot's poems. Like, damn, this is so much better than the rhyme-rhyme-rhyme shit I'd seen before. Like, sir. Damn. That was all high school, though. College? Hmm... See, I was an English major so I read a lot (or claimed to have read a lot and just BS'd my way through the tests). Reading As I Lay Dying by William Faulkner was a Moment, in part because I realized that my mom had summarized the story for me when I was a kid. Same thing with Spencer's The Faerie Queene--I think I surprised my professor with that one. Once I hit post, I'll probably think of a bunch of others.

21. obsession from childhood?

Oof. That depends on what age we're talking about here. Because Sesame Street was a big one when I was very small, then Muppet Babies when I got a little older. Any Muppet thing mesmerized me, according to my mom (I still love them). I loved playing dress-up (let's be honest: I still do, only I call it cosplay now) and dancing and playing pretend (and I still do). I drew constantly--especially bleeding hearts flowers, but also anthropomorphic animals in elaborate outfits and these creatures I called alligator birds. My Little Pony toys were everywhere in my house growing up--the original MLP, the good MLP. That was definitely still going strong in elementary school. I was really into A Wrinkle in Time and most of the other Madeline L'Engle books in about 4th grade onward. 6th grade I was hung up on blue-and-gold celestial designs (it was the 1990s) and everything purple. I got ahold of a really basic AM/FM cassette Walkman about this time and I discovered that there was actually Good Music in the world, not just children's music and I got so obsessed with just what you could find on the radio. I used up so many batteries and just wore out headphones and it was wonderful. I know somewhere in this span I started reading the Elfquest comics (n.b.: I was probably too young but I only realize that now) and got really into wolves and the particular version of elves that Wendy and Richard Pini created (I would shank someone for a chance to meet them) and did a lot of drawing of Wendy Pini's style of elves. I think I discovered anime by way of Sailor Moon when I was about 12 or 13 (and that's still an obsession) and started drawing anime-style characters A Lot. Somewhere in middle school, some friends and I started doing text-based RP via email, which sounds bizarre but we sure did it and it was very Mary Sueful but we had fun. I started writing a lot in and around then--maybe 7th, 8th grade? Mostly fantasy and, of course, lots of Mary Sues (but I really think that the Sue Stage is an important developmental stage, truly). I got sent a quiz by a friend in about 7th or 8th grade that was supposed to determine if you were a "starseed" and that got me into UFOs and Atlantis and ESP and some New Age-y stuff, which was actually a lot of fun (bless my mom for tolerating that). And since I was getting bullied a bit at this point in my life, maybe it was good that I had this "I'm special, I'm actually from another planet and I am important there" thing to hang on to. I know I was super-obsessed with the computer games Myst and Riven about this time--to the point of writing self-insert fanfiction. The hyper-religiosity (mainstream religion, mostly variations of Protestant Christianity) period among myself and my friends was no fun, but there we were, and I guess that counts as an obsession. There are theories that this developmental period is some of the background to the Salem Witch Trials, but I digress. I guess that gets me up to about high school. So, how's that?

40. weirdest thing to ever happen at your school?

I mean, I guess there were always the bomb threats that made us all evacuate the school and hang around outside for a while. I didn't witness it, but I heard that once the cops brought drug dogs through the school and this one kid jumped up, grabbed his backpack, and ran out of the school and into the woods nearby because he had a bong in his backpack. There were the kids who'd stage a fight in the courtyard of the school so everyone would come running over and then their friends would throw water balloons on the crowd. There was this one girl who told people she was from another planet, and that was weird (me. that was me.). I dunno, I don't know of anything really weird happening at my school, in any grade. It was pretty quiet.

49. what saying or quote do you live by?

"If you work for a living, why do you kill yourself working?" --Tuco, The Good, the Bad, and the Ugly

61. favorite line you heard from a book/movie/tv show/etc.?

That's a tough one... It might be "the heaventree of stars hung with humid, nightblue fruit" which comes from the "Ithaca" chapter of Ulysses.

[elizabethlassing]

Just received this beautiful ring from the Etsy shop JustAsStrangeAsIAm, and I absolutely LOVE it! I can't wait to wear this with my fairy wings at the next fair festival (and plenty of times before then too!) https://www.etsy.com/shop/JustAsStrangeAsIAm #handmadejewelry #customjewelry #fairy #fairywings #fairyjewelry #faerie #faeriewings #faeriejewelry #fairyring #faeriering #fantasy #magicaljewelry #magicalaccessories #fantasyjewelry #stunningjewelry #gorgeousjewelry #stunningrings (at Ithaca, New York) https://www.instagram.com/p/CT8Ow9QsE1T/?utm_medium=tumblr

[starcunin]

For a moment, Astarion is frozen, a sharp intake of breath the only sound that escapes him as the flickering light of the fire catches on something otherworldly. A pair of delicate wings—translucent and iridescent—unfurl from Ithaca’s back, shimmering with a thousand colors that dance like sunlight on water. The wings flutter, betraying her distress, but all he can do is stare, mesmerized by the ethereal beauty of them. It’s as if a piece of the Feywild itself has been revealed to him, and he’s struck by the sheer magnificence of the sight. He’s seen many things in his long, cursed life, but nothing quite like this.

His momentary awe is abruptly tempered by the realization that clicks into place with startling clarity. Fey. It all makes so much sense now—the intoxicating sweetness of her scent, that beguiling blend of honey and flowers that has tormented him since the moment they met. The allure that has pulled at him, not just because of his hunger but something deeper, something primal. He’s never tasted the blood of a thinking creature, let alone that of a faerie. The thought alone makes his mouth water, his fangs ache with anticipation. It’s a temptation unlike any he’s ever faced, and for a brief, dangerous moment, the hunger surges anew, more potent than before.

But then she speaks, and the words—sharp, hissed—pull him back to the present, to the reality of the situation. For the first time in years, Astarion feels a pang of something almost like guilt. Almost. He straightens up, composing himself with the grace of a practiced predator who knows he’s been caught but is far from deterred. The tension in the air is thick, but he pushes through it with a smooth, practiced charm, a wry smile curling at the corner of his lips.

❛ My, my—it appears I’m not the only one full of surprises, ❜ he murmurs, his voice laced with a velvet smoothness that belies the lingering tension. He lets the words hang between them for a moment, letting her calm, letting the humor she’s grasping for take root. ❛ I wasn’t trying to kill you, darling. Nothing so crude. ❜ His gaze flickers over her, lingering on those wings before returning to her face, where her distress is still evident despite her attempts at levity. ❛ I just needed… a small taste. ❜ He doesn’t elaborate, doesn’t explain the theory he was testing, because how could he? How could he make her understand the invisible chains that still feel so very real, the desperate need to prove—to know—that he is truly free?

❛ But, ❜ he continues, the smile softening slightly, though it never quite reaches his eyes, ❛ it was never my intention to hurt you. Or kill you, for that matter. ❜ The words are a reassurance, though he knows they are fragile things, easily broken. ❛ I simply let my curiosity—and perhaps my hunger—get the better of me. ❜ He tilts his head slightly, studying her with an intensity that’s hard to read. ❛ Rest assured, if I’d wanted you dead, you wouldn’t have woken up to find me standing here, apologizing. ❜ The words are true, but they hold no malice, just a cold, calm certainty. He steps back, giving her space, though his gaze never leaves her, still captivated by the fey creature before him.

closed starter | @faebhaal

The fire crackles softly in the heart of the camp, its embers casting a warm, flickering glow that struggles to reach the edges of the encroaching darkness. The night is deep, a blanket of velvety black pierced by the cold light of distant stars. The others have long since fallen asleep, leaving Astarion alone with his thoughts, the quiet murmur of the night, and the ever-present hum of his hunger.

His mind races, a remnant of the nightmare that dragged him from the fragile peace of sleep. Cazador’s voice echoes in his mind, a haunting litany of rules that once bound him so tightly: Thou shalt not drink of the blood of thinking creatures. Thou shalt obey me in all things. The phantom weight of those commands makes his chest tighten, his throat constrict as though the very air refuses to pass. He’s free, isn’t he? The tadpole allowed him to break all the other rules, why not Cazador’s? Yet those words, etched into his psyche like the scars on his back, linger—unshakable, undeniable.

He sits up, pressing his hand to his forehead, trying to push away the lingering terror. But it’s not just fear that gnaws at him tonight. It’s hunger. The gnawing, ravenous hunger that never truly leaves him, that has only worsened since the night he drained that unfortunate boar. The taste had been ash in his mouth, unsatisfying and stale. His fangs throb with the need for something more.

And then there’s her. Ithaca. She sleeps just a few feet away, her small form curled under a thin blanket. In the pale light of the fire, her dusky orchid skin glows faintly, her rose-colored hair spilling like liquid dusk across her pillow. Those delicate features, so deceptively innocent in repose, belie the truth of her nature—violent, monstrous, and utterly captivating. He remembers the way she kicked that squirrel, the casual cruelty in it, the way her eyes had sparkled with something feral afterward. It had intrigued him, but it is her scent that now drives him to madness. She smells like honey and fresh flowers, like the very essence of spring, like sunlight captured in a bottle, sweet and golden and utterly irresistible.

He moves without thinking, a shadow slipping through the night, soundless, predatory. He finds himself standing over her, his breath catching in his throat as he gazes down at her peaceful face. She is beautiful, in a way that shouldn’t be possible for something so tainted, so damned. But it’s not just her beauty that draws him—it’s the hunger, the desperate need to know if he can. If the chains Cazador bound him with are truly broken. If he can sink his fangs into her soft flesh, taste that sweetness.

He leans down, closer, until he can feel the warmth radiating from her body, the subtle rise and fall of her chest. His fangs ache, his throat burns, and he is so close, so close he can almost taste her on the air. Just a taste, he tells himself. Just enough to know. His lips part, his fangs bared, and then her eyes snap open, violet rings burning against the darkness.

❛ Shit. ❜ The word slips out before he can stop it, as he jerks back, the spell broken. Fear, anger, and the remnants of his hunger twist inside him as he straightens, trying to regain some semblance of composure. But his dead heart races, and for the first time in a long time, he feels like a fool.

[rachelillustrates]

Thank Gnome it's Friday!!

OKAY, now again for extra oomph today, this time "Tock the Gnome" nobleGnome and nosy-ghosty-ancestor style (with bonus faerie snake)!

Relatedly, come see me today at the Ithaca Artist Market!! Vending alongside oodles of other local artisans from noon today until 7:30pm. Details and address here 💙

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Bonus art and stories ~ Prints, comics and more!