#tales of the otherfolk

[zal-cryptid]

What are the three ghosts of Christmas like in the other world canon. I believe jacob Marley worked tooth and nail to get them to help Scrooge and Is the ghost of Christmas yet to come an aspect of death

I call them the "Three Santas" in my Otherworld canon.

The Ghost of Christmas Past is the spirit of Saint Lucy, chosen due to her association with light and sight, as well as her holiday being in mid-December.

The Ghost of Christmas Present was always going to be obvious. Dickens based him on Father Christmas, an English folk figure that evolved from pagan traditions who later merged with Saint Nicholas.

And finally, keeping with the theme of choosing saints, it only made sense I find one that personified death in some fashion in order to represent the Ghost of Christmas Yet to Come. The mexican folk saint Santa Meurte seemed like a perfect, albeit somewhat out of place, fit.

[the-fae-folk]

Hello. I'm writing a story and I'd like to base my magic system on that of the fae's magic? Do you know how their magic works? The rules of their magic? I've heard of things like prices and contracts, but I'd love to know more. Thank you for helping. I love your blog.

In a desperate attempt to prevent this answer from getting far out of hand, I'll try to limit myself to something more practical you can use. However it is important that you understand that many magical abilities, events, and things had their roots in various ancient cultural practices, beliefs, and cultural needs or desires. As these tales were passed down orally they were changed with each successive generation, adapted for the huge cultural changes such as the rise of Christianity or for war and famine or political exploitation. The transition from Folktales (mostly oral storytelling) to the later Fairy Tales (largely dominated by literary storytelling) is an important factor in which kinds of stories are still remembered and can be studied today.

So depending on what historical period, country or locale, and cultural group you're looking at, you could have entirely different sets of faeries who had vastly different kinds of powers and rules. And those abilities and limitations were often the remains of older cultures from whom the stories had been passed down from or who had influenced it along the way, or they were a kind of wish fulfillment of basic needs and desires for a generally non-literate agrarian people, as well as an expression of their values and beliefs.

Let's look at your question. Okay, you want to know how the magic itself works, the rules. Well first let's see if we can get a very brief idea of what magic is. While it would be the work of several books to try and define an etymology and history of magic in all the different cultures connected to Faerie Folklore over the centuries, we can pick out some ideas that were of particular influence.

There are several types of magic anthropology suggests for us. These being: Sympathetic Magic, Divination, and Contagious Magic.

Sympathetic Magic is based on the principle of "Like produces like". For instance if something is to happen to an image of someone, it shall also happen to the actual person.

Contagious Magic is based on the principle that if a thing was once connected to or in contact with something else it can still influence it even when they are apart. Believers would hide their fallen teeth, nails, hair trimmings, clothes, or feces from what they believed were malevolent supernatural forces or practitioners of magic.

Divination, which you may be more familiar with, is the procedures and ways in which knowledge of a certain event or of some future event are determined.

But these terms don't really offer us a very clear idea of what's going on with this idea of magic. Alternatively we can think about the different methods in which people would practice magic. Spoken words, writing, or symbols of power were thought to have magic in a number of different cultures. While in animistic beliefs even ordinary items could take on magical attributes as well as a spirit.

The sources of power for this magic were varied. Anything from nature, deceased humans reincarnated and willing to intercede, and sacred or secret knowledge of the world and realities it hides from common knowledge.

In medieval France and Britain there was an idea where women were magical because they could create new life and give birth to it, the act of creating something itself being the magical ability they possessed. So too were other acts of creative work such as cooking, mathematics, and various types of craftsmanship viewed as a kind of magic. It's unlikely that these women, scholars, and craftsmen were viewed as magical practitioners, but the idea of the work itself being a kind of hidden magical knowledge made it into the oral and later literary storytelling and remains there to this day.

Even in contemporary fantasy there are remnants of this idea that crafting itself is a kind of magical knowledge. Think of all the items in literature that are magical. Cloaks, wands, food, weapons. Even everyday items such as a looking glass can become a magic mirror, or a pair of shoes the enchanted seven league boots.

A great deal of Faerie magic in folklore seems to have been a mixed kind, with different types of magic for different situations or peoples. For instance the story of Rumpelstiltskin shows a heavy emphasis on the magic supposed to be inherent in finding the True Name of a thing and the apparent delight in deals and agreements, especially exploitative ones. Other stories present us with Faeries and magical beings who rely on rituals of certain words or events that must take place for a magic to be effective, items combined or crafted in a specific way with specific ingredients or words of power to make charms, and a large variety of abilities that suspiciously have a great deal in common with medicinal practices.

There is, of course, the question of Glamour. Initially a kind of illusion magic, such as in the Ballad of Tam Lin where the titular Tam Lin was "transformed" into a number of frightening shapes in order to try and get his lover, Janet, to let go. It can also be used to disguise the faerie themself, or make a cave appear to be a beautiful palace, or a pile of leaves into a grand feast.

Strangely, there are also many folktales that describe Faeries as having actual powers of transformation, being able to shift their size and form, and the limitations differed from tale to tale. Several variants deal with the contradiction of Faeries who are somehow both intangible and tangible at the same time, or only tangible in certain conditions.

Wings are common in Victorian Art of faeries, but in older stories there are many depictions of Faerie beings who can simply fly without them.

Folklore studies doesn't really make it clear what abilities the Faeries were supposed to have or how those powers worked, and this problem is only muddled further by the lack of surviving materials on these cultures, and the slow influence of changing generations and storytelling that time has upon our existing texts and materials. What you mention, however, is the prices and contracts. The idea of tricksters who will wheedle and bargain and use clever words to get what they want is as old as myth itself, and throughout the history of folklore and fairy tale there are countless trickster characters. Though the Faerie are drawn from multiple different sources they are known in more than one place as having a penchant for trickery or malicious behavior to go with their supernatural abilities and powers. Despite looking, I haven't been able to pin down any particular point in which they began to be associated with deliberately ill intended contracts, it's certainly easy to see that throughout the medieval period and onward the Fae definitely had a strong connection to the idea of bargains and deals, often being incredibly upset (not to mention exceedingly dangerous to all around them) should that contract be broken by the human party usually involved. In many stories the human's ill fortune is caused by them agreeing to things they thought they wanted, but turned out not to be happy with when they got it, or found that they weren't prepared for the true scope of the price they agreed to when they made the deal. Since the Fae do not care whether the human likes the deal as long as it is upheld as agreed, they can understandably be very annoyed when a human breaks the agreement and still thinks themself entitled to the treasures and pleasures they got from said deal.

In contemporary fantasy we might be able to guess that the connection between Faeries and their supposed interest in the true names of things, as well as their often mischievous or maleficent nature, somehow was combined with this tendency in fairy tales to make deals and bargains with mortals. It's conjecture on my part, but it would definitely explain some of the trends in the depictions of faeries in modern literature. It's not a huge stretch to imagine that over time magic in literature came to be directly involved in those deals as well, not just enforced by a deal-loving being with magic, but being enforced by the nature of the magic itself.

[lavenderslabyrinth]

A Sacrificial Game

King!Dragon x Reader

Masterlist

This is my first post since deciding to kick off this new account. It’s rewritten from an old story I had posted on here long ago once upon a time. I hope you enjoy~

CW: ♢ Mention of Near Drowning ♢ Blood/Injury ♢ Abduction ♢

The coos of morning doves and the gentle brushing of branches against your bedroom window were quickly drowned out by the boisterous laughter and squabbling of your many siblings. Your attempt at trying to drown them out via the trusty quilt-over-head technique was quickly plundered as they burst through your sacred doorway. With energy only children can manage to conjure from the depths of hell at 8 in the morning, they jostled you around roughly, stealing away the comforting warmth you'd had. Surely, you'd thought, this was an act of merciless torture. Your skin prickled with goosebumps and, irritably, you managed to croak out a yip. "Ow! Off!" Your anger did nothing more than make them giggle as they lightly bruised you with their rough play. "Lemme sleep, dammit! Off! Get off!" Taking evident joy out of your misery, the damn gremlins only gave you a round of smug looks. They did relent, however it was truthfully only to avoid your flailing swats at their heads. “Momma said we ain’t eatin’ breakfast till you get up. So get up lazy" A chorus of agreements and more jostling only drew a strong eye roll from you. But, nevertheless, you shooed them off and sat up, groggily rubbing the sleep from your eyes.

Normally they'd just eat without you, leaving the leftovers warmed in the oven to be picked at by whoever passed by, but today was a special occasion. It was your birthday. Normally birthdays were happy events full of gifts, smiles, and all things merry-making-- but this one was different. While the younger whelps scurried off to the old wooden table, none the wiser to the fate that you now had to face, a heavy weight hung over the heads of the adults in the house. The thickness of the air palpable as you stepped into the kitchen and saw the grim look on your mother's face.

The saying goes that a starving savage is less likely to ravage your home if you give it a single meal-- and such began the gruesome, superstitious tradition... Once a year, one unlucky village that bordered the human kingdom would be chosen to place the names of all it's unmarried, of-age residents into a box and perform a drawing. Whichever sorry soul was picked would be ripped away from their homes by the temple, never to be seen again. The nobility liked to call it one of the "highest of all honors" a commoner could receive. The common people? You call it human sacrifice.

At least, most of your people do. Despite that being so, the vast majority of the population feared the very notion of abandoning the ritual. Why? Because the entire purpose was to "sate the otherfolk's thirst for human blood." One sacrifice, one year free from their wrath.

Your skin crawled at the very idea of it all as you leant down, clumsy hands tying up the laces of your worn leather boots.

As a child, you believed every word that hung off of the elders' tongues down near the pub. The fascination and wonder of another terrifying world outside the kingdom's tall, stone walls ignited your naive little heart. But with age, it grew evident to you that they were no more than simple old widows and drunkards with nothing better to do with their remaining time than talk stories and scare little children with tall tales. How were you supposed to believe beasts, much less entire civilizations of them, would be satisfied by the blood of one person if they truly wanted to attack a meager village, much less an entire country? Who decided they even wanted that blood? It was an argument you’d tried to raise countless times with your village council only to have it shot down with a simple “Well the Chosen never return, do they?” It pissed you off to no end. It didn't even take two wrinkles in the brain to conclude that it was more likely the animals of the woods, the elements-- or worse, other humans that caused the sacrificed to meet their demise; but no point you made would ever change their stone cold hearts.

And as though your age wasn't enough to make this birthday sour, the drawing was to be held this evening. The irony of someone losing their life on the day of your birth was palpable. Taking your usual chair at the kitchen table, you noticed the way two of your brothers squabbled over the last roll. With spiteful retaliation, you plucked it from between them taking a slow, mocking bite right in front of their faces. Maybe next time they'd think twice before ganging up to practically assault you out of bed.

"(y/n)?" Your head snapped up to attention, meeting your father's gaze. "How are you feeling?" You swallowed the fluffy bread quickly shooting a quiet reply. "I'm alright. Would feel a little better if you guys would stop lookin at me like I'm headed to the gallows." The laugh you were awarded from him was dry, but it eased some of the tension in his weathered shoulders nonetheless.

"I suppose it is a bit stuffy in here for a birthday, huh?" Your mother piped up sheepishly, wiping her hands on the dishtowel that hung from a belt on her hip. "Say, why don't you go visit Alikar? Trade some of our tomatoes for a basket of peaches-- bring those back and I'll make a pie we can all have after the drawing, how does that sound?" The little heads in the room visibly perked at the idea of getting their grubby little paws on something sweet. It wasn't often you had the sugar for such things after all.

Dismissing the idea of having to attend the black box event, you gave her a gentle nod. "Sure, I can do that. Need anything else while I'm out?" You inquired, stuffing the rest of the bread into your mouth before your youngest brother could snatch it from your hand. "No, dear. Just finish your breakfast and we'll handle the rest."

After practically beating your siblings off the table with a stick to get your fill, you quickly washed up and plucked the basket from the floor. “I’m off!” You called, getting no discernible acknowledgement as the chaos in the house never ceased. No matter to you-- the pie would be well worth the trip ahead.

Uncle Alikar.

The man was a huge part of the reason you didn’t believe a lick of all that ‘savage otherfolk’ nonsense. As your feet scuffed along the well worn path, old memories bubbled up to the surface like froth from the babbling brook that ran beside you.

You were the eldest of your siblings which, consequently, meant that when you'd been a rumbling little runt there were no older kids to show you the ropes and your parents' first trial run at raising a whole little person. This always resulted in you tumbling headfirst into trouble, but one day it had gone a little too far. Your tiny body approached the ledge of the stream. The same edge you would use every summer to hunt tadpoles. But, unbeknownst to you, the soil that was far too saturated with yesterday's rain to hold your weight. Without warning, it crumbled beneath your little feet sending you hurtling down into the rushing waters below. The merciless current carried you faster downstream than your father could run and just when your little head was wrenched under the raging current, a large beast sprung into the water after you. Before you could even process what had happened, your little lungs were hacking up the water they're inhaled, the coughing doing little for the burn in your lungs.

At first it was all a blur, you could hear your parents shouting as well as another rumbling voice above you responding back to them. Your little legs dangling far above the ground as a muscular arm stayed firmly wrapped around your waist. Someone was... holding you? You blinked away the tears, looking up to be met with a mouth full of razor-like teeth, thick sopping wet fur, and bright, slitted eyes. Misunderstanding what was going on, you began to cry out in fear. You were absolutely terrified you were about to be eaten by the ravenous river monster your mother warned you about countless times in attempt to dissuade you from wandering near the water when they weren't watching you. Only when those large paws handed you off to your mother ever-so-gently did you begin to quiet back down "Are you alright now, sweetpea? Ol' Alikar didn't mean to spook ya. Poor thing." He was some kind of rakshasa or tabaxi, evident by the sopping tail that swayed in the water behind him and round, fluffy ears that tilted back with concern. Speaking of...

Your knuckles rapped against the wooden door, sending warm clunks into the cottage. It was a serene place far from the human village which was always surrounded by the sweet smells of fruit and scents of warm, freshly made bread. Not but a few seconds later the upper half of the door swung open and there, in all his striped glory, was Alikar himself. “There’s the birthday girl!” He greeted you, his smile full of sharp teeth. A sight that originally took some getting used to but was now synonymous with a second home. “Hey Uncle Al. Mama sent me down to get some peaches for a pie.” You raised your basket of tomatoes.

He only chuckled in reply. “Oh, I know, how else was I supposed to give you your gift?” His paw pushed the lower part of the door open, welcoming you inside-- the scent of herbs and butter wafting much stronger from within. Surprised, you could only follow dumbly after him at first, setting the basket down as you took a seat on his kitchen table.

“A gift? Since when do you have the extra funds to get me gifts?! Aren’t you saving for the wedding? What about--”

    “Would you hush, child?” He laughed, taking amusement in your fretting. “You’re still new to the whole womanhood thing, what do you know about adult troubles?” You gave a halfhearted growl at him but had no argument to fire back at him. Even though you'd been considered an adult in human standards for quite a few years, Alikar did have more experience than you in that department.

"You get onto me about my finances but I don't see you moving out of your parents' home yet." He teased, carefully unloading every piece of fruit from the wicker basket with care. "Don't bully me! I'm plenty experienced in other things!" You whined. Snatching one of the many apples he'd left unattended. The crisp sweetness did little to nurse your slightly bruised ego but the coolness of the juice as it dribbled down you chin quenched plenty other, more satisfying needs. "Yeah? And what would your area of foreign expertise be? Apple thieving?"

You glared at his back, cheeks tinting "No! Like conversation! And courting."

"Pah!" He scoffed, soft paws stacking the soft, pink fruit into a neat arrangement. "Much good your 'experience' has gotten you, I am the only one getting married here out of the two of us." Okay. Ouch. "And I converse plenty well, thank you very much!"

The afternoon passed with similar banter as you stuffed yourself with whatever fruits Alikar let you get your hands on. In the end he had given you a carefully carved wooden totem of your favorite animal, peaches, and sent you on your way. Whatever wood the little figure was made from gave a faint, sweet scent when wet with water. A bit ironic considering how you met all those years ago but you appreciated it nonetheless.

You had asked him if he’d have wanted to come and celebrate with you and your family but, regretfully, he had to decline. As charming and kind as he was, the path to your home was far too close to the village for his comfort and the idea of one of your acquaintances or friends coming to celebrate as well and reporting him sent the hairs on the back his neck straight upward. It was no secret the village wasn’t excited about strange, new creatures given the black box tradition, so it was doubtful Alikar would be in the public eye anytime soon, as unfortunate as that was…

   You didn’t realize how much time you’d wasted until the shadows began stretching longer, snuffing out much of whatever light the day had left for you. “Ah shit.” You mumbled. You'd definitely missed the drawing, and at this rate you wouldn't be able to eat sweets till the next morning. Speeding up from a mozy to a quick trot back up the hill was unpleasant to say the least, but damn if those thoughts of peach pie didn't motivated you to haul ass.

However, as you drew closer your eagerness was smothered.

Hunching down, you quickly used the cover of the thorny brush to peer out at the scene below-- The terrified cries of your siblings pierced through your chest.

“Where’s the girl?!” A man demanded, spear to your father’s throat and eyes unwavering as your mother pled, voice breaking with fear as her children clung to her skirts.

“Dunno what you’re talkin’ bout.” Your father replied curtly, looking the assailant back in the face with matching fury and anger. “I've only got sons.” The hair on the back of your neck stood up. Only once before, in your entire life, had you heard such a chilling tone come from that man. You'd been no older than 12 when a suitor equal to your mother in age offered to pay a hefty sum for your hand in marriage. The cruel chill in his voice as he sent the man away stuck with you-- but it didn't seem like this scenario would have the same outcome.

“Have it your way.”

A pit knotted itself in your breast as your family’s pleas turned to screaming cries, the spear cutting into you father's shoulder without mercy. Everything seemed to move so slowly after that...

First, you'd prayed he'd give in, relenting your location to the angry mob that surrounded him-- but your father stayed silent. That same fury in his eyes unwavering as he stayed on his feet.

Second, you though, maybe, the crowd would believe they'd truly made a mistake. Maybe a (y/n) didn't live in this village. Perhaps they'd been mistaken-- but that hope was quickly snuffed out as the spear-wielding man reeled the weapon back again, poised to strike.

You hadn't even known what you were doing as you pushed through the thorny brambles. Didn't even register as your fingers curled around a plump peach from your basket. And certainly didn't realize the strength you'd shot through your arm as you slung the fruit straight into the back of the man's head.

The hard impact followed by the splatter of sweet juices dripping down his neck was followed only by a second of silence.

Then two.

Then three.

All heads turning in your direction....

Run.

It was nothing more than instinct as you dropped the precious wicker basket your mother had weaved to the ground-- Alikar's carefully nurtured peaches bruising in the dirt. You shot back through the thorns. Dress skirt shredding, legs practically minced as you rushed through the uncaring wild.

Everything blurred.

Heart racing, the sound of shouting, the thundering of feet right on your tail. It was so much, too much-- too soon. There was no where else you could go. You didn't even know where you were going. Run. Run. RUN.

And run you did, even as your calves burned and blood dripped down your skin, you flew through the woods in a desperate flurry. It was fruitless though. Your wreckless abandon being brought to a halt with a blistering pain that shot through your ribs. The last thing you saw was the sight of the ground coming right at you, and then? Darkness.

I was going to wait till I finished part 2 to post this part but I'm too excited and part 2 is about halfway written anyway :) Stay tuned!

pt. 2

[maimoncat]

 Gatto Mammone, o Re dei Gatti, è una creatura del folklore italiano, una delle poche che si trova in più o meno tutta Italia. È descritto come un enorme gatto demoniaco, dal pelo nero con una M bianca sulla fronte. Appare in alcune fiabe e leggende, tra l’altro nelle versioni italiane de “La ragazza cortese e quella scortese” , come ne “La fiaba dei gatti”, raccolta da Piero Pellizzari e aggiunta alle Fiabe Italiane di Calvino. Nel Medioevo era sinonimo di qualunque mostro o creatura leggendaria, oggigiorno però è solo un vecchio spauracchio dimenticato. Dino Buzzati scrisse un’articolo su di una signora anziana, che parlò del suo incontro col criptide. Per poi disegnarne una caricatura. È possibile che sia ispirato ad una divinità fenicia della fertilità, Maimone, ma di sicuro è stato unito al demone Mammona biblico e alla parola araba Maymun, scimmia.

Ho voluto postarlo qui il Martedì grasso, dato che talvolta è in qualche modo collegato con la stagione del Carnevale (specialmente in Sardegna). Qui eccovi alcuni schizzi concettuali che ho fatto di lui per il fumetto "Tales of the Otherfolk" di @zal-cryptid (molto ispirati al suo aspetto nella pellicola del 2019 "La famosa invasione degli orsi in Sicilia"):

The Mammon Cat, or Catking, is a creature of Italian folklore, one of the few found in all of Italy. He’s described as a giant demon cat, with black fur and a white M on his forehead. He appears in some legends and fairy tales, like italian versions of “The kind and unkind girls”, as the “the tale of the cats” collected by Piero Pellizzari and included into Italo Calvino’s Italian FolkTales. In the Middle ages he was a synonym of any weird or scary creature, but today he’s only a half forgotten boogeyman. Dino Buzzati wrote an article where an old woman who spoke of her encounter with the cryptid. And then proceded to draw a caricature of it. It’s possible that the mammon cat is based on a phoenician fertility god, Maimone, but he was certainly united with the biblical demon Mammon and the arabic word for monkey, Maymun.

I decided to post this here on Mardi Gras (or Shrove Tuesday), since at times he's connected with the Carnival season (especially in Sardinia). Up there are also some concept sketches for @zal-cryptid 's webcomic "Tales of the Otherfolk". Very much inspired by his depiction in the 2019 movie "the Bears' famous invasion of Sicily".

Der Mammonkater, oder König der Katzen, ist ein Fabelwesen der italienischen Folklore, eins der Wenigen, die in ganz Italien verbreitet sind. Er ist als riesiger Teufelskater, mit schwarzem Fell und einem weissen M auf der Stirn. Er erscheint in einigen Märchen und Legenden, unter anderem in den italienischen Varianten von den „Geschichten von artigen und unartigen Mädchen“ (also Frau Holle), wie in „das Märchen von den Katzen“, das von Piero Pellizzari gesammelt und in Italo Calvinos Italienische Märchen mitgezählt wurde. Im Mittelalter war er das Stichwort für seltsames oder ungeheuerliches Wesen, Heut zu Tage ist er aber nur ein halb vergessenes Schreckgespenst. Dino Buzzati schrieb einen Artikel über eine Frau, die von ihrem Erlebnis mit dem Kryptiden erzählte. Danach zeichnete er eine Karikatur davon. Es ist möglich, dass er auf einem phönizischen Fruchtbarkeitsgott, Maimone, beruht, aber er wurde sicherlich mit dem biblischen Mammon und dem arabischen Wort für Affe, Maymun, vereint.

Ich wollte es am Fastnachtdienstag posten, da er manchmal (vor allem in Sardinien) mit der Faschingszeit verbunden wird. Oben noch ein Paar Skizzen von ihm für @zal-cryptid s Webcomic "Tales of the Otherfolk". Designweise sehr an seiner Erscheinung im 2019er Film "Königreich der Bären" angelehnt.

[byrdly]

All the webcomics I'm reading

First off

This is an active list that will be updated as I read more web comics, or enter/leave hiatus

I am not tagging the creators of these comics on purpose

there will be links to

the works themself

creator socials as needed

my own reviews, commentary, and live blog tags

If a comic doesn't already have a review/commentary linked feel free to ask!

The order of the list is random

Check out @gnu-paint for any MS Paint adventure/Fan adventure comics

The list is below the cut

Ongoing Comics:

Comics that are actively updating

Awful Hospital - By Bogleech - Read it Here - If your especially squeamish I would avoid this one

Nothing Girl - Content Warnings are tagged for individual pages - Read it Here

Triggered - by Khale Mchurst - Please Check Content Warnings - Read it Here - Autobiographical

XKCD - by Randall Munroe - Read it Here - generally a gag of the day style comics about a bunch of nerd topics and general life

Val and Issac - By Tredlocity - Read it Here – soft sci-fi comedy about Val the space captain, Issac the wizard, and friends

The Glass Scientist – By Sage Cotugno - Read it Here

Dead Heads - By Majora Mortis – Read it Here

Heart Work – By Lake Fama – Read it Here – Campy Rom-Com

Growing up Gerudo – By Junior and Roy – Read it Here – Legend of Zelda fan work

Joe vs Elan School – By Joe – Read it Here – Content Warning for Child Abuse and it does not let up, Autobiographical

Bugtopia – By Idolomantises – Read it Here

Monsters and Girls - By Idolomantises – Read it Here

Death-Head’s Deal – By Niuniente – Read it Here

The Adventures of Wiglaf and Mordred – By Grey Liliy – Read it Here – gonna be real this isn’t that good, found it looking for any Mordred related content, I still read it though

Rectify – By the-pigeon-queen – Read it Here

Provil – By El Dentman – Read it Here

Modern Elements – By AJ Box – Read it Here

Another Story – By Snarkiwi – Read it Here

Way Back to Hell – By GongpoMochi – Read it Here – creepypasta fan work

Poor Neo – By Lunar_Neo – Read it Here – autobiographical

Aurora – By Red of Overly Sarcastic Productions – Read it Here – Archetypical Fantasy world, pretty good characters

Sparkle Care Hospital – By the zany clown posse – Read it Here

Soul Food - By CiciEnixa – Read it Here

What Happens Next – By Max Graves – Read it Here

The Property of Hate – By Mod Mad – Read it Here

My Own Personal Demon – By Jonni Lynch – Read it Here

Nose Ears – By Wuzzy – Read it Here – A little heavy handed sometimes but cute

Coupon Kids – By Tang – Read it Here

Through Hell with You – By Arthur Arbetman - Read it Here

Finished Comics:

Comics that posted up to completion

I do not have an Eating Disorder - by Khale Mchurst - No longer available free online - buy it here ($9): Link - Please Check Content Warnings

Polyamory Isn't For Everyone - by Khale Mchurst - No longer available free online - buy it here ($7): Link - Please Check Content Warnings

Post Cards in Braille - By Coni - Read it Here

Outcasts - By Majora Mortis - Read it Here

Drop Out - By Gray Folie - Read it Here

Fresh Meat - By Gray Folie - Read it Here

This is Not Romance - By Gatobob - Read it Here - 18+ and Please Check Content Warnings

Under Hiatus:

All comics that are on an official or unofficial long term pause in updates

Hard Lacquer - By Amelia Allore - Read it Here – Spy Drama-Comedy

Kitty Corner - By Chickpea (link to her tumblr) - Read it Here

To Greener Pastures - By Wunderground - Read it Here – Content Warning: Abuse, seriously, its there by the second page and it does not leave

Soil that Binds Us - By Tess Thompson - Read it Here -

Unfamiliar - By Lavendertowne – Read it Here

Welcome to the Circus – By Najsigt – Read it Here – some great clown designs

Scoob and Shag – By Misterie Krew - Read it Here – a “Yes and…” sort of comic

Drugs and Wires – By Mary Safro and Io Black – Read it here

funwithcolorz - by oakmovies - Read it here

Pasta monsters - by oakmovies - link to be added

Tales of the Otherfolk – By Zal Cryptid – Read it Here – a lil heavy handed and a lil clunky, but still a good time

Forever Unfinished:

These are all comics that are never getting finished

Cucumber Quest – By Gigi D.G. – Read it Here

[mijh]

style 1,2 - tales of the otherfolk - @zal-art

style 3 - menino maluquinho

style 4 - tim burton

style 5 - steven universe

style 6 - adventune time

style 7 - mlp

[bestiarium]

The Ijirait [Inuit mythology]

In the upper northern regions of the Arctic dwell a strange kind of being. The Ijirait, as told by Inuit folklore, are able to take on the form of a caribou (as such, they are often called “the caribou people”). They are often depicted with sideways eyes, and sometimes with a vertical mouth as well. The Ijirait are usually described as noble, brave and quick to help a human traveler in need. But other stories claim that they are malevolent creatures that steal human children only to hide them in remote places where their parents cannot find them. I do not know which version is the truth, as truth be told, I haven’t actually met an Ijiraq myself.

Whatever the case, the Ijirait go to great lengths to avoid being found by humans. As such, they have the ability to erase people’s memories after meeting them. In addition, their home is protected by powerful disorienting magic that makes even the most skilled adventurer lose his way.  In some versions of the stories, these spirits have the ability to shapeshift into any animal, not just caribou. Whatever their form, however, they always have red eyes.

Some people believe that the unexplained phenomena attributed to meetings with the Ijirait are actually caused by pockets of hydrogen sulfide (H2S) gas, which can cause hallucinations, such as landmarks suddenly appearing larger or smaller than they are, which explains how people suddenly lose their way even despite following landmarks. Or perhaps it’s spirit magic.

Finally, some versions claim that the Ijirait are beings that originate from the space between worlds. There is a story about a group of Inuit that traveled too far north while hunting, and ended up trapped between the world of the living and the world of the dead. They became the Ijirait.

Sources:

http://www.inuitmyths.com/ijirait.htm “The Hidden: a compendium of arctic giants, dwarves, gnomes, trolls, faeries, and other strange beings from Inuit oral history” by Neil Christopher https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Ijiraq_(mythology)

(image source 1: The Hidden, illustrated by Mike Austin) (image source 2: Eva Widermann on behance.net)

List of creatures so far

[shipping-receiving]

Jaime x Brienne Fic Recs: Spotlight Saturday #2

This is the second of my Spotlight Saturday fic rec series for 2020 (more on my 2020 plan here). Spotlight Saturdays will feature 1-2 stories written post-Season 8 of Game of Thrones, i.e. from the new influx of JB fics.

I have long thought LadyRhiyana one of the relatively underappreciated writers in our fandom, just going purely off kudos. I’ve always enjoyed their stories since they quietly started posting The tale of Squire!Brienne in late 2018, though I’ve not manage to catch up with all 70+ stories (if you include all the ones gathered in their Stray Sparks collection). Currently, I’m obsessed with Step Outside and See (Another World), which imagines Jaime and Tyrion (and other assorted characters) time-travelling to be adopted by modern day Selwyn and his daughter Brienne. But today I’d like to feature:

Armed and Armoured rating: T | word count: 3,105 | chapters: 2

Brienne was dressed in Kevlar and spider-silk. The white shirt and shimmering blue jacket were woven with spells and embroidered at her wrists and collar with tiny roaring lions, each holding a tiny sapphire charm in its mouth. The powerful ward on her stab-vest – the imprint of Jaime’s palm, as always – shone faintly in the moonlight. On her wrists she wore braided leather bracelets strung with protection spells so strong they set off the magic-detectors at the station house.

This urban fantasy fic showcases exactly what I think makes LadyRhiyana such a strong and confident writer – their ability to world build in a startlingly efficient way, even for the strangest possible premises. Considering this is only 3,000 words long, it’s such a fleshed out universe: Brienne works for the Spook Squad of King’s Landing PD, wrangling paranormal elements in Westeros, while Jaime is a hunter of the Otherworld (and it turns out, prince of the Otherfolk), who helps her slay a dragon. Oh, also, she’s rewarded with Jaime’s hand in marriage. Their marital home is described later as being held together with Jaime’s spells, which actually reminds me of Howl’s Moving Castle. Can I get a full novel of this please? A full series of novels?

[helioark]

Sean amháin, do you have any connection to Cernunnos? I know that the Lord of the Wild is not one of the Otherfolk but you two do seem similar. I offer broken glass, string, and my almost-empty gluestick.

you know, little one, you could make a lovely looking wind chime with those items. i’ll hang it on my porch. 

the answer to this question is complicated. in short, no, i do not bear any connection to the horned god. the entity that is often referred to by the name of Cernunnos hails from a different set of legends and beliefs than those of the Aos Sí. however, it is true that in the old tales told of my people by the Milesians there appears often imagery of an unnamed, cross-legged, antlered spirit who watches over the forests of the hills, and there is credence in suggesting i may have inspired some of that imagery. 

[zal001]

Tales of the Otherfolk | WEBTOON

Many a tale come from beyond the veil.

The Otherworld is an immortal realm of myths and magic that dances in tandem with our own. These are the tales of the Otherfolk who dwell there.

UPDATES THURSDAYS

[scarytheeandmisery]

"I could tell myriad tales," Misery proclaimed. "Of fierce beasts! Monsters that go bump in the night!" He gave a small smirk as his hand gripped the edge of his decorated cape. "Yes, I *could* tell you... But why don't I just SHOW YOU INSTEAD!" #Inktober #inktober2019 #inktoberPattern #IntoTheNonsense #MiseryThee . . . . . #penaddict #fantasyart #magic #magiccape #MiseryOfTheNonsense #otherfolk #characterart #drawing #sketchbook #micron #sharpie #mangaka #artprompt #shortstory https://www.instagram.com/p/B3dlMGrHVCv/?igshid=1olnt25ajptnq

[zal-cryptid]

How long did it take for Santa and Krampus to go from enemies to lovers? And who initiated the polycule?

In my canon, Nick and Kramps first met in the Alps sometime around the turn of the second Millennium. Krampus was terrorizing a village one day, so some Christian converts called upon the Saint to come and protect the children from the demon. Krampus is technically a nature spirit, not a demon, and so Nick was having trouble figuring out how to stop the beast.

Fortunately, a young Befana was dispatched by Perchta to fetch Krampus and found the two duking it out in the town square. Thinking quickly, she created chains and shackles out of Nick's shadow, which he used to bind him successfully.

Perchta decided that it would be an apt punishment for Krampus to remain shackled to the Saint and be his twisted reflection. Krampus dispised his situation at first, expecting to be treated like some wild animal to be tamed or put on display. But Nick always treated him with respect. He always treated him like a fellow man. Perhaps it was Befana's mediation...perhaps it was Nick's "I could fix him" attitude...maybe it was even Krampus' "I could make him worse" attitude...but something eventually clicked between the three of them.

By the 14th-15th century, their love for each other became apparent. I think...I think Nick would have been the one to admit his feelings while Befana would have been the one to propose a polygamous relationship.

[the-fae-folk]

Hi! Reading your blog is such a gift — at least to me, that's how it feels. I've been thinking for some time about what I could research about on the Fae, because it's a subject I want to focus my academic paper on. Do you happen to have any ideas? It would really help a lot if you could.

My Child, you are a delight and a wonder. Researching the Fair Folk is rather like taking a dive into what seems an ordinary pool of water, only to find that beneath the surface it expands ever wider and delves much deeper into the earth than you could have possibly believed. Down and down you swim, searching for the bottom, and you discover instead that there are tunnels and caverns that extend down and outward for miles and miles, possibly even connecting to the far away sea. There is simply an extraordinary amount of things to study when it comes to the Folk. You could look into the language, what words are connected to Faerie and Fae, and how the influence of those words has brought all kinds of strange ideas as cultures and concepts intermixed over time. Perhaps you could choose a particular country or group of people in Europe and study closely their folklore and myths, how those tell of the people themselves and their values and beliefs, as well as what it is they are saying about the Fae. Maybe you might write about a certain kind of Faerie, such as a Nixie, and then travel along on a journey all over Europe, tracing the movements of the idea and the changes of the name. There are more connections than you would ever know from a glance at the surface. What ideas, archetypes, and tropes have been preserved through Folk and Fairy Tales? Created through them? Passed along down through them? Discovered through them? Perhaps you could look at what sorts of things in the world were influencing those Fairy Stories. Cultural and Religious changes such as the rise of the Christian Church. Or perhaps Geographical changes like the slow disappearance of the ancient Hercynian Forest. If a narrower scope suits your tastes, perhaps look at a particular aspect of Faerie stories. What sorts of objects or ideas often show up in those old tales? Even things we dismiss as modern invention have surprising roots, like the origins of Fairy Dust. Despite its flaws, Academia and its systems allow for one of the most interesting opportunities one could take advantage of. Taking aspects from two different disciplines and combining them in order to explore a topic in a more unique way. For example, one could examine the odd behavior of Time in the old stories of Fairy Rings through the lens of Theoretical Physics (For example the work of Itzhak Bars on his theory of Two-Time Physics, which suggests the mathematical possibility of a universe with two dimensions of time instead of the usual one). There are ever so many ways you could approach the topic of the Fae. My suggestion is to find a broad category inside Faerie, then narrow and narrow and narrow your scope until you find something of a more manageable size. If you feel the urge to try and add too much into your paper's topic, resist it. Save that for another paper. Some academic papers can be for your own personal enjoyment too, otherwise there wouldn't be so many people writing them after getting out of school. I offer you all the blessings that are mine to give. Good luck! And I would love the chance to read your paper at some point.

[s0ng-sp1r1t]

Update (10/10/2021)

Planners/Calendars

Llewellyn’s Witches’ Datebook 2021

Llewellyn’s Witches’ Calendar 2021

Books on Sabbats

Llewellyn’s Sabbat Essentials

Imbolc

Ostara

Beltane

Midsummer

Lughnasadh

Mabon

Samhain

Yule

Tarot Decks

The Original Tarot (Siren Imports) (no packaging, no booklet)

Oracle/Non-Tarot Decks

The Spells Deck, Cat Cabral, illustrations by Kim Knoll (Chronicle Books, 2019, second printing)

Zines

Fiddler’s Green: Peculiar Parish Magazine (Clint Marsh, editor/publisher)

Volume 2 - Number 3 (February 2020)

Tales From Fiddler’s Green (Susan Remington Bobby, editor; Clint Marsh, publisher)

Premiere Issue (March 2021)

Cunning Folk Magazine

The Re-Enchantment Issue (Third Printing February 2021)

The Water Issue (First Printing April 2021)

The Fire Issue (First Printing September 2021)

A Purple Thread: The Supernatural Doom of Oscar Wilde; Nina Antonia (Peculiar Parish)

Flitting; Nina Antonia (Peculiar Parish Christmas Number)

The Weeping Cufflinks, or, A cautionary tale of otherfolk haunting your desires and including many instructive and useful notes on City Lore; Tom Sharp (Faery Fellers, March 2020)

Non-occult Zines

The Lark Ascending; George Meredith with illustrations by J.G. Folivéli (Peculiar Parish, December 2020)

My Witch Library (Oct 2019)

Planners/Calendars

Llewellyn’s Witches’ Date Book 2019

Llewellyn’s Witches’ Calendar 2019

Introductory Books (General Witchcraft):

Enchantments: A Modern Witch’s Guide to Self-Possession; Mya Spalter (First Edition, First Printing)

Introductory/Reference Books (Wicca, Scott Cunningham)

Wicca: A Guide for the Solitary Practicioner (First Edition, 12th Printing)

Living Wicca: A Further Guide for the Solitary Practicioner (First Edition, Second Printing)

The Complete Book of Incense, Oils & Brews (First Edition, 38th Printing)

Cunningham’s Encyclopedia of Crystal, Gem & Metal Magic (Second Edition, 17th Printing)

Cunningham’s Encyclopedia of Magical Herbs (Expanded & Revised Edition; Second Edition, 29th Printing)

Cunningham’s Encyclopedia of Wicca in the Kitchen (Third Edition, 12th Printing)

The Magical Household: Spells & Rituals for the Home; Cunningham & David Harrington (First Edition, 24th Printing)

Introductory Books (Wicca, other authors)

Wicca for Beginners: Fundamentals of Philosophy & Practice; Thea Sabin (First Edition, 14th Printing)

Exploring Wicca: The Beliefs, Rites, and Rituals of the Wiccan Religion; Lady Sabrina

Moon Magic

Moon Magick: Myths & Magick, Crafts & Recipes, Rituals & Spells; D.J. Conway (First Edition, 15th Printing)

Tarot Decks

The One World Tarot; Crystal Love & Michael Hobbs (Second Printing)

Books on Tarot

Guide to the Pythagorean Tarot: An Interpretation based on Pythagorean and Alchemical Principles; John Opsopaus, illustrations by RHO (First Edition, First Printing)

Fairy/Faerie Magic

The Vanishing People: Fairy Lore and Legends; Katharine Briggs, illustrations by Mary I. French (First American Edition)

Folk Stories/Fairy Tales

Irish Folk & Fairy Tales: Omnibus Edition; Michael Scott (First Edition, First Printing)

Zines

Fiddler’s Green: Peculiar Parish Magazine (Clint Marsh, editor/publisher)

Volume 1 - Number 4

Volume 2 - Number 1 (May 2018)

Volume 2 - Number 2 (February 2019)

Fiddler’s Green Leaflets (Clint Marsh, author)

Nine Defenses Against The Basilisk: Black & White Magic for Surviving Anxiety; illustrations by Alexis Berger (FG1102)

The Place of the Song-Dream: The Animal Spirituality of Kenneth Grahame; illustrations by Timothy Renner (FG1103)

Armchair Demonology: The Magical Benefits of Cultivating Bad Habits; illustrations by Gerhard (FG1104)

Exploding the Tangerine: A Shy Person’s Guide to Battle Magic; illustrations by Oliver Bly (FG1201)

Enchantment Dismantled: Superstition and the Thinking Irrationalist; illustrations by Kelly Patton (FG1202)

Our Bogeys, Our Shelves: The Magician’s Library as Mentor, Companion & Oracle; illustrations by Jeff Hoke (FG1301)

The Riddle of the Sphinx: The Artist’s Path and the Secrets of Immortality; illustrations by Adrienne Rozzi (FG1302)

Non-occult Zines

Herbal First Aid: Assembling a Natural First Aid Kit; Raleigh Briggs (Microcosm Publishing)

[sanctimoniousscrawlings]

How I Fell in Love with the Sun and Other Tales of Woe

Chapter 1 // Day 1 // Aether

    The scent of the forest wafts throughout the garden, mingling with lavender, peppermint, chamomile, and black tea. I breathe it all in, lying on a stone bench with earbuds in and staring at the sky. I’ve got an hour left before I need to head to school.     It’s been three years since I’ve received the official letter, telling me to move to this town and attend The Academy (which is simultaneously the most needlessly ominous and excessively bland name for a school I have ever heard). I’ve received no instructions since then and at this point can only assume they’ll come this week or the final day of school.     My phone vibrates in my pocket but instead of answering, I sit up and pour myself another cup of tea before carefully placing the teapot back on the tea tray on the ground. I take another sip of tea and only then do I deign to check.     It’s Ness. Her shift at The Night Owl has ended and she wants to meet early before class starts. I agree to meet up with her and put my tea tray away inside then spread royal blue wings (that of a Rhetus Periander), taking off in flight.

    Trees sail by me as I fly toward the meeting spot, the rich scent of the forest filling each breath I take. Among the tall oaks and birches is a marble gazebo beneath a massive weeping apricot tree. Upon seeing me, Ness steps out from the gazebo, her hair like brilliant flames twisting in the breeze. Her eyes were forest green, luminescent in the morning light and made brighter by her pale skin and freckles.     Cackling, I loop my arms around her in an embrace as I land pretty much tackling her to the ground.      I roll off of her, helping her up while we both laugh. “Look at you- out here lookin’ like a Celtic goddess ‘n shit. I couldn’t resist knocking you from your pedestal.”     “Ugh, I missed you, ho. Man, you’ve really gotta get your rage toward her imperious maliciousness out. How’s that going by the way?”     I crack my knuckles behind my head, stretching, and start walking toward the road leading to the school. “Plans within plans, baby. I’ll knock her off her false throne by winter break.”     “Can I finally be in on this? I’ve got some bones to pick with her.”     “Absolutely. I think we can probably get at least 60 people together to take a stab at little miss Cesar.”     “Please tell me you’re literally planning on getting 60 people together to stab her. That would be so much more satisfying than the political intrigue I’m certain you’re gonna go for.”     “You know I don’t like actual violence unless it’s absolutely necessary.”     “She has half the school hypnotized. Evil witches get stitches.”     “Or,” I stretch the word, “we could break the hypnosis. I found a spell- it’s advanced magic, but I’m like 85% sure we can easily tackle it together. We’d need a third person, though. Know anyone skilled enough?”     “No one comes to mind- but then most of the spellcasters at school kind of hate me, so...”     “They don’t hate you, they’re intimidated. Few people can cast major spells without the rites like you do this early.”      “I’m one of three humans in this school. You know most otherfolk don’t trust us; my skill level just makes it worse.”     We get to the road and I’m about to ask how her trip home went when a black Jaguar zooms past us towards the school. The driver, Abby, screams something unintelligible- likely something rude- and cackles. Her poor boyfriend beside her stares ahead blankly.     "Speak of the devil. I see she's still a raging c-" Vanessa starts before a pickup honks behind us, burying the end of that sentence.     "Get in losers, we're going shopping!" It's Robin. His green eyes were lit with mischief and he had his thick black hair cut to a militaryesque fohawk since I'd last seen him. "C'mon, I'll drive y'all the rest of the way in."     "Sure!" I say before I can stop myself.     I catch the look Ness gives me as if to say When did you two become friends?   "It was a long summer," I say simply, shrugging.    "Clearly," the displeasure in her tone is enough to make me reconsider, but she tosses her things into the bed of the truck anyways.    She sits in the middle before I can pseudo-casually get there myself. He, of course, misconstrues this for interest and grins at her. "And how are you, gorgeous girl? My friend here treating you right?" He asks, winking at me. I melt.     She side eyes me knowingly and it makes me uncomfortable.     "Well, let's get goin'," I chuckle nervously. "Oh, Robin, this is Vanessa. Ness, this is Robin."     "We're acquainted," she mutters.     "I mean, we did have Chemistry together," he states, matter-of-factly.     "Ooh, chemistry?" I inquire, waggling my eyebrows with a mischievous grin. "Oh, do tell."     "Yes. But it was just that one class. And you destroyed the lab," she continues for him. "Worst lab partner. 11/10 would trade you away again."     "Wait that was you?" I ask, poorly attempting to stifle laughter.     "I'd like to take credit but it wasn't on purpose. A certain someone's handwriting-"     "Say no more, I get it," I laugh out. Ness narrows her eyes at me and I shrug at her. "You know your handwriting is an atrocity marring the entire human race. You may create beautiful images on canvas but your penmanship leaves something to be desired."     "Would you say it's something like... legibility?" Robin asks, voice dripping with mock innocence and we both crack up.     "It's gotten better, though," she mumbles, chagrined.     "I know, I know.  I still love you anyway." I kiss her on her forehead as we pull into a parking space.    "Well, we're here. I'll see you in class?" Robin gives me a look I can't quite decipher- a feat which terrifies me to the core. There’s never a moment I don’t know what the people around me are feeling. It’s my curse.    "Yeah, thanks for the ride! See ya!" I get out and grab my bag then Ness follows suit and we walk inside.    "I would just like to point out that the awkwardness of that entire ordeal was tangible. Like, I'm pretty sure if I had reached out I could have snatched it from the air. I probably should have." I feel the acidic green waves of jealousy pulsing out from her.     "I dunno. I think you guys would get along if you gave him a chance." I'm ignoring her point and we both know it.     "Guuurrrl. We are gonna have to have some words about that boy. Don't trust him, he's awful."     "I'm not allowed to have other friends now?"     "Friends. Uh-huh." She lengthened the grunt to make it clear she didn't believe me.     "I'm not gay."     "I thought your kind doesn't believe in sexual orientation."     "We don't. In fact, I don’t like men or women, so I have even less of an orientation. Hey, look, our lockers." I open mine, blocking her view of my face. This isn't a conversation I want to be having. "Hey, what's this? I pull an envelope from the locker, the only words on it say 'Game On.'     "Don't change the subject, she says. Not even bothering to look. "You aren't getting out of this."     I'm not paying attention, though. I open the letter, the locker door still blocking her view.  In an elegant script, the note reads:  

    7 others attending the academy. Figure out their identities. Good luck, chumps.

   This is so stupid. Whatever; it will be a cinch.     "Hey, are you listening?"     I put the letter away before she can peer around the door.     "Yeah. You don't like him and erroneously think I want the D. Not just any D, but his specifically. Don't you have to prep your art station? Find me when you want to talk about something else." I slam the locker and walk away. It's harsh but now I'm on a mission and, unfortunately, I think I know who my first suspect is.

    I spend the first two periods trying to use my empathic abilities to figure out if anyone is feeling something unusual or potentially related to the first task. There are many nervous students- nervous about grades, about college, about dating, but not the Novae. Most of the students just seem to be half asleep and wanting to be anywhere else.     By third period, I’m way too exhausted to read Robin- who is now my lab partner for one of the many science/magic crossover classes. I open my textbook, The Science of Chemistry and Art of Potion Making, to work on the assigned tincture.     Towards the end of class, Robin slides me a notebook- the page it was opened to reading: 90% sure potion making does not qualify as art. It’s more sciencey than chemistry.     Agreed. I feel like it’s almost like being a pharmacist, I write.     He pulls the notebook back, giving it a strange look. I see I’ve traded up as far as lab partners go. Your penmanship is tight, my dude. You’ve got preschool teacher grade handwriting.     That is, I pause to think before continuing, the strangest compliment I have ever received from another guy.     Does that mean you’ve received a stranger one from a girl?     My best friend is Ness.     Valid point. I’ve gotta know what it was.     “I would not want to face you in a war.”    I pushed the note back to him. After a moment of watching him hold it out of the corner of my eye, I swivel my head to see his face had turned beet red and tears were forming in his eyes from trying to shove down the laughter.     Rolling my eyes, I grab it back and write, first of all how dare you. I’ll have you know I am an excellent tactician.    Upon reading this, he completely loses it and the bell rings. “Maybe- May- Maybe on something like Big Brother.” He struggles to get the words out through his laughter.     “First rule of conquering a country: take out its leaders. Assassination is smarter than marching a platoon in.”     “I thought you were nonviolent, like as part of your religion.”     “That’s offensive; I’m an atheist. I just dislike violence- and I never said the assassination had to be literal. You can assassinate someone’s reputation, then you can replace them with a puppet ruler when they’re removed.”     “And if they are removed violently? Plus, that could take years.”     “I didn’t have a direct hand in it and my conscience is clean. I didn’t choose the method of removal, only that it eventually happens. I prefer to play the long game.”     “That’s a little morally grey coming from you.”     “There is no honor in war- plus I like to toe the line. No one interesting was ever lawful good.”     “You’ve been playing with too many shitty paladins.”     “Holy hell, you got that reference. And expanded on it with a valid retort. I’m shook.”     “You play those games with my roommates a lot and Josh only ever plays ‘awful good’ characters. I’m planning on joining you guys and trying it out when you start your next campaign. I kind of wanna see you play a charisma based character so I can see this nonviolent tactical brilliance you speak of. I can totally see you as a bard. We’ll give you an electric lute and call you General Shredder.”     “Given that I am basically already a bard, that would defeat the purpose of the roleplaying game. Besides, I’d have to be a rogue with high charisma to make my methods work and it’s gonna be my turn to gm anyways.”     “Fair. Think you could convince Ness to join?”     “If I did manage to she’d likely play a barbarian or monk and attack all the things. ‘You come to a fork in the road.’ ‘I punch it.’” I crack up at the thought.      “Alternatively, she gets to the fork in the road and tries to intimidate it into telling her where to go.”      “Tries? Girl would probably nat 20 on every intimidate check she makes. Nothing else, just intimidate. That fork in the road just wet its metaphysical underoos. You know what? I’ll try. She’ll break the game, but it will be glorious.”     The minute bell rings and we part ways in the hall, our laughter echoing between us.    

[zal-cryptid]

Does a certain fairy with turquoise colored hair have a place in the pantheon of the fae?

Yes! Turchina is one of the archfey of Faerie, but she's been off-world for quite some time. Something about going off to harness a star.