#fatal fae

[trickster-kat]

Every Book/Manga I read in February 2023

Ice and Ember by @karsakmelanie

Fatal Fae by @chandellelavaun & @mmonterobooks

Resident Evil: The Marhawa Desire (1-5) by Naoki Serizawa & CAPCOM

Wicked is the Reaper by @nishajtwrites

Angels of Death (1-12) by @hskzkrnkrn

Darkblood Academy Book 2: Supernatural Slayer Squad by @gkderosa

Alora by @meganlinski

Black Crow by @jlweil

Crown of Bones by @a.k.wilder

The Faerie Pawn by @michellemadow

Cinderella Assassin by Allie Burton

The Vision of Escaflowne (1-8) by Katsu Aki

The Vampire Trick by @michellemadow

Court of Ice and Ash by @authorljandrews

The Beast Within by @serena_valentino_author

A Dance with the Fae Prince by @elise.kova

Fantasy of Frost by @kellystclare

Mad as a Hatter by @kendramorenoauthor

The Princess Games by @cordeliakcastel

The Long Goodnight by Selene Charles

Crown of Moonlight by @km.shea

Resident Evil: Heavenly Island (1-5) by Naoki Serizawa & CAPCOM

Before Beauty by @brittanyfichterfiction

Hooked by @itsemilymcintire

Trapped in Wonderland by @danihootsauthor

As Old as Time by @lizbraswell

Percy Jackson & the Olympians: The Lightning Thief by rickriordan

Kiss the Fae by @nataliajaster

[ant1quarian]

Cryptidverse

Contains:

Avians

Fae Folk

Bats

Lycanthropes

Naga

Vampire (not the "I Want To Drink The Sexy Neck Milkshake" kind lmao)

Wanderers

Will o' Wisp

Witherborn

Mothmen

Sirens

All of which include these variations of Sanses:

Nightmare

Cross

Killer

Dust

Horror

Farmer

Epic

Fresh

Error

Outer

Classic

Fell

Fatal Error

Geno

Reaper

Swap

Dream

Ink

Blueberror (Goes by Blue here)

They're all very much goobers- feel free to ask about them! Whether it's about them as characters or their worlds, environment, world building, societal norms, or in an x reader context!!

Tags are:

#Cryptidverse

#Arian's Cryptids

#Cryptidverse [Species

#[Species] [Sans]

[pestilentbrood]

bearer of the curse

[spookyscarycreepydollgirl]

He groans in pleasure as he feels her soul beginning to struggle against his. He can taste all the parts of her he admires as though they are spread out across his tongue. As her physical body weakens inside his belly, her soul opens up to him, helpless and trapped on all sides by a stomach made to keep more than flesh.

“Oh Ida, you are every bit as beautiful as I knew you would be” He cooed, hunger and adoration intertwined.

Can she feel how beautiful she is to him? Or does his hunger overshadow that part of him even now? When all walls and secrets between them should be dissolving? He hopes not, he hopes his admiration sears her soul as deeply as his stomach acids sear her flesh. He hopes she drowns in his adoration, that she softens in his gratitude, that she is undone by his regard.

Her soul seems to recoil at the very idea that he feels so strongly. It is not that she does not desire him or recognise him. But rather, that she is afraid, afraid that his love will disappear if he sees any more of her, if he sinks his fangs too deeply into what makes her, Ida. She thinks he will reject her, that he will spit her out. She underestimates the depth of his hunger, the depth of his love. Even after he has licked clean every scrap of her, he is confident, he will never stop wanting more.

She cries out and whines as his stomach tightens, were she anyone else, it might have been simple fear, but here and now he senses that she is overwhelmed by the feelings inside him. She wants to be corrupted and overtaken, to drown in him and succumb to his twisted ravenous affection. She has never felt more loved and that truly scares her. She does not believe she deserves him.

Which is ridiculous, when it is he who does not deserve her. He is a monster, a predator, a hopeless glutton, who is at this very moment digesting the one person he values most in all the world. If she wants him as much as he wants her, who is he to deny her? To reject or abandon her? He is nothing but a simple minded spider, a gaping void of hunger that can never truly be fulfilled. If Ida wants him, all of him, then she has but to ask and he will lavish her in affection until she forgets where his love ends and she begins.

[meruladelux]

...Ti lascio ricordare, ti tengo esteticamente bloccato, ammetti che sei ispirato

[punkpandapatrixk]

Fuck other people’s opinions about what you're doing or where you are in Life; those things don’t finance the empire you're building for yourself. You can do whatever the fuck you want.

Truth is, I’m too Neptunian to know clearly where I’m going. But I can feel where my heart is taking me. And I trust that shit🫀

[faeriewithhiddenwings]

Enchantment of Seasonal Faerie Affection

✨🌱🪻🍀🍄✨☀️🔥🌊🌹✨🌬️🍂🌾🍁💀✨❄️

Springtime. Oh sweet time. Where the blossoms bud and bloom. Springtime tender springtime. When she caught you. Deep in her misty eyes. That sparkled with morning dew. It was in springtime lovely springtime. When this faerie cast her spell on you. 

You thought you'd get sweetness all the days of your life. Warmth gentle kisses and caresses. Tender and sublime. Then summer came and shyness melted away. She blazed brighter with the heat. Passion burning fire. You thought your life was complete. But oh foolish mortal. She'll have you begging on your knees. For you may not have noticed. With all that charm and magic in her smile. But as the seasons pass. That look in her eyes grows only more wild. Then all the heat starts to fade away. The bitter cold is settling in. The leaves are burning, with colors once again. The sweet scent of death, the howl of the wind. She dances freely. Wild and wondrous as can be. And when she gazes at you, you are filled with the thrill of danger in her beauty. Slowly she becomes cold. Nothing like anything you knew. She's not shy, not amorous, cool as frost glistening anew. But she's got you, the spell's been cast. Your mistress of the autumn, lady of all that doesn't last. Her chains of thorns and frost around your heart. Now steadily turning into bitter ice tearing you apart. She doesn't spare a glance to the anguish you feel. She's distant, frigid, strangely unreal. Once sweet, then warm, then wild and free now she's apathetic and cold but it's too late to beg for mercy. She is beautiful and shining like fair winter snow. But she brings you no comfort with the ice in her soul. Her smiles are few, yet enchantingly cruel. And when she dances you feel the fatality of her loveliness, draining you. Your joy, your fear, your laughter, your tears, all become naught in the presence of her. Soon you forget, to even exist. You are lost in the storms of her eyes, and every preciously painful syllable that tumbles from her lips. A moment, a glance, that's all she needs. Till you are nothing at all. Just another fallen leaf ripped away, crumbling to dust in her vicious breeze. Only when there's nothing left, can you finally be... Free

[cyrus-solaris]

my fatal flaw is i would see a faerie trap and knowingly walk into it, fully aware of the repercussions.

[stardust-in-my-mind-blog]

your last lullaby

you once said to me

I will never know peace

you've never recognized me

I am mercy

I am justice

I am the peace you receive

the peace you never asked for

the peace you are given

the last song of your life

[llimerrence]

Links to bios for the new dudes lmao

thimble

Katie

Nausica

Jakarn

Norman

Grandsanta

Connor

[lostdeviantartfilm]

----

[spookyscarycreepydollgirl]

I am a monster, that I cannot deny, but just because I am a monster, just because I fundamentally do not deserve acceptance, does not mean I do not crave it. Do you understand what seeing you in my web does to me? What you have given me by allowing me to catch you? You have granted me more than a meal Ida, you have granted me acceptance, unconditional love, nourishment that is both physical and spiritual. Gazing upon your beautiful face with eight eyes instead of two. It saddens me to think, I might never find a way to repay you for what you are offering me. For though I adore you, all I know of love is hunger, it’s something I am well suited for, after all I am my hunger and very little else, but is it worthy of you? You have chosen to speak to me in my own language, to be my prey, to allow me to feast. But what is your language Ida? What can I do to make you feel accepted? What can I do to make you feel loved?

[thehordemultimuse]

Hope is very much not Femme Fatale, that's a 'house filled with cyanide and then she turns on a lighter' vibe and if Hope wanted you dead, she's more of a 'giant fucking volcano' person. Not saying she couldn't, it'd just take some effort on her part

[punkpandapatrixk]

Starting to get annoyed at how much I like you🧜🏻‍♂️Why do I like you so much? Why do you shine so bright and warm? Your light is scaring the dead shit inside me❄️

You sexy terrorist🌞

[daycourtofficial]

Blood moon in Autumn

Pairing: Eris x Rhys’s sister!reader | WC: 1.3k | warnings: mentions of nudity, mentions of sex, mentions of violence

Summary: fae cycles are no joke, but your mate is always there to provide you comfort in the best way possible: by being your personal heating pad

Author’s note: this is part of my gingerfucker series, however this can be read as a standalone. @writingcroissant actually gave me the idea for this so everyone say thanks Tori 🥰

Death was imminent, you were sure of it. Every fiber of your being ached, the pain emanating from your lower abdomen through the rest of your body. It felt like someone was stabbing you with a rusted, dull knife, the blade carving out your insides slowly at their leisure.

You heard your bedroom door open and close, footsteps coming towards the bed. You groan in greeting as the steps get closer.

“Just leave me here to die, Er.”

A soft chuckle makes its way to your ears, despite the layers of blankets you are burrowed beneath, the blankets not offering you the comfort you so desperately crave.

“You’ll be remembered for even in death, your flare for the dramatics never faltered.”

You push your face from the blankets, allowing your face to be seen. You scowl towards your mate, his smirk making you want to push him from the window. You take in the sight of him - he had changed into more relaxed clothes since you saw him last. Gone is his formal jacket, a deep red velvet with golden leaf embroidery. The garment would make anyone look like court royalty, but on Eris it made him look positively radiant, as if the fires of Autumn truly originated from him, as if the apple orchards and the crops found their nutrients from him. You loved when he wore it, your fingers tracing the fine embroidery along the lapel as you would straddle his lap, grinding softly-

You groaned, the idea of moving so much making you nauseous and slightly dizzy.

Now he wore a loose, billowy shirt, his sleeves rolled up to his elbows, casual brown trousers covering his toned legs. If it were any other day, you’d devour him. Any other day, you’d pull him directly into bed, pushing his clothes off of him, neither of you leaving bed until you slipped his shirt on to grab the two of you some pastries.

Instead, the sight of him made you slightly annoyed - he seemed fine as he set down a tray on the table next to you. He was fine this morning when he rose, having to tend to some things before returning. You were dying, and he was perfectly fine. You groaned, shifting to sit up on your elbows. “What’s this?”

“I believe those of us who leave our beds call it ‘food’.”

His smirk disappears at the pillow that hits his feet. He sends you a withering glare that just makes you scoff. “That could have hit the tray of coffee I made for you.”

You perked up at the sound of coffee - you were sure the warm liquid would at least distract your insides. Or at least provide you some comfort.

You’d take anything at this point.

“Did you make the coffee? Or did you just prepare the tray?”

“What difference does it make? Coffee is coffee.”

“Well, if Jora made it, then I aimed perfectly for your feet.”

“What if it was my coffee?”

“Then I would have aimed for the tray.”

He gives you a withering stare, his fingers halting their movements. “Now that’s no way to treat your mate who lovingly made you coffee.”

You squint your eyes, “if it’s my mate that’s making the coffee, it’s more of an assassination attempt than love.”

“You wound me, my love.” Despite your grievances, he continues preparing your cup exactly as you like it.

“Is the wound fatal?”

“Perhaps.”

“I shall pay my respects at your funeral, then. With my next husband.”

His eyebrow quirks as he rests the cup on your side table before he rounds the bed, peeling back the layers of blankets on top of you. He crawls in behind you, his body heat causing you to melt.

“Next husband?”

“I will get lonely. Besides, the hounds need a male’s touch. They’ll grow soft under me.”

“And who is this next husband? Is he capable of this?”

Before you can ask what ‘this’ is, he slides his arm around your waist, his palm lying flat over your lower abdomen, his fingers spreading across your skin. Your skin began heating under his touch, and you moaned at the relief he provided you.

“If he’s not, he’s not worth it. Perhaps one of your brothers will be capable. Lu, maybe?”

Eris growled at the teasing, your friendship with Lucien a constant sore spot for him amidst his rekindling relationship with his youngest brother. He hated to admit it, but he seethed with jealousy watching you interact with Lucien, the way your conversation would flow easily.

A life of regrets and Lucien takes several of the top five spots.

“Lucien would make a terrible husband. You’d never see him - he spends all day brushing his hair.”

“I like a well-groomed male.”

“The noises his eye makes would keep you up all night.”

“I think you’re getting us confused. The whirring would soothe me to sleep.”

He buries his face into your neck, mumbling, “you are not marrying Lucien.”

“Alastor, perhaps?”

You clutched onto Eris’s arm, the heat providing you some relief. You nuzzle your head into his bicep, and he blows out a hot breath, “if I die, and you are unable to continue alone, marry outside of my family, leave my brothers out of your marriage pool.”

You open your mouth, but he cuts you off.

“Not Azriel.”

You huff, “well if I can’t have a Vanserra or Azriel, I’ll stay alone forever.”

“I prefer that alternative.”

“I will rule Autumn alone. Just as Beron would have liked.”

You spin in his arms, pushing his shoulder down so he’d lay on his back. You crawl on top of him, laying so every inch of you is touching him in some way. Not an inch of space exists between your bodies. You poke his ribs, urging him to start heating up. He ignores you, so you start tugging on the bond between you two.

“Patience is a virtue, don’t they teach that in the war camps they call villages?”

“I’m dying, I think the Mother can forgive my lack of virtues.”

He huffs, but starts warming his skin to better provide comfort. You groan, laying in silence with him for several moments, the heat a comfort to the constant pain.

A few moments later you roll, your back laying across his chest.

“Ah,” you sigh, the pain in your lower back lessening at his touch.

“You’re spinning like game over a campfire.”

He rests his hands on your lower abdomen, the warmth making the stabbing pain into a dull ache.

You sigh at the contact, practically melting at how he soothes your muscles.

“I want to go bathe but that requires movement and leaving this bed.”

Eris laughs into your hair, but you hear the water running in the bathroom. You groan just thinking about how soothing the water would feel on your joints. You breathed out slowly through your nose, preparing yourself for the trek across the room.

You rolled off of Eris, and before you could get off the bed, Eris moved from behind to in front of you, his feet landing softly on the floor.

“Care for a ride?”

You nod, and his arms sweep you up.

“I think this is my preferred method of travel.”

“Perhaps this is how you will tour Autumn, hm? I shall carry you throughout the lands.”

You laugh as he sets you down, helping you remove your clothes. He must be warming the air somehow, because you don’t feel the chill of the air when your clothes are completely off. He helps you into the water, which you melt into immediately. You close your eyes, laying back in the tub, the porcelain a nice surface to lean against.

You’ve completely forgotten about Eris’ presence until you feel him nudge your shoulders forward, his lean body slipping behind you into the tub. His legs stretch besides yours, and you lean your head back to rest on his shoulder.

“There’s no way my next husband will be as helpful as you are.”

He breathes out through his nose, “I fear you can only marry down from here. A pity, truly.”

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Thanks for reading 💕