Two identical infants lay in the cradle. “One you bore, the other is a Changeling. Choose wisely,” the Fae’s voice echoed from the shadows. “I’m taking both my children,” the mother said defiantly.
Once upon a time there was a peasant woman who was unhappy because she had no children. She was happy in all other things – her husband was kind and loving, and they owned their farm and had food and money enough. But she longed for children.
She went to church and prayed for a child every Sunday, but no child came. She went to every midwife and wise woman for miles around, and followed all their advice, but no child came.
So at last, though she knew of the dangers, she drew her brown woolen shawl over her head and on Midsummer’s Eve she went out to the forest, to a certain clearing, and dropped a copper penny and a lock of her hair into the old well there, and she wished for a child.
“You know,” a voice said behind her, a low and cunning voice, a voice that had a coax and a wheedle and a sly laugh all mixed up in it together, “that there will be a price to pay later.”
She did not turn to look at the creature. She knew better. “I know it,” she said, still staring into the well. “And I also know that I may set conditions.”
“That is true,” the creature said, after a moment, and there was less laugh in its voice now. It wasn’t pleased that she knew that. “What condition do you set? A boy child? A lucky one?”
“That the child will come to no harm,” she said, lifting her head to stare into the woods. “Whether I succeed in paying your price, or passing your test, or not, the child will not suffer. It will not die, or be hurt, or cursed with ill luck or any other thing. No harm of any kind.”
“Ahhhhh.” The sound was long and low, between a sigh and a hum. “Yes. That is a fair condition. Whatever price there is, whatever test there is, it will be for you and you alone.” A long, slender hand extended into her sight, almost human save for the skin, as pale a green as a new leaf. The hand held a pear, ripe and sweet, though the pears were nowhere ripe yet. “Eat this,” the voice said, and she trembled with the effort of keeping her eyes straight ahead. “All of it, on your way home. Before you enter your own gate, plant the core of it beside the gate, where the ground is soft and rich. You will have what you ask for.”
⇢A/N:happy birthday to my baby eren, so here’s a fic for my fav eren❤️also this is like my first fic for nerd eren?!?!?!? yah me if the grammar is terrible i’m sorry i speed wrote this
⇢SUMMARY:remember that time i walked in with just panties under my coat ?!??? (but just a bit more)
⇢CONTENT WARNINGS: fingering, slight edging, y’all both needy, cream pie, stomach bulging, PRAISE,,,, also very self indulgent ♀️
⇢WC: 1.9k
when you pulled into his driveway, you had seen the decorations that you and his mom had been putting up all last night. the helium filled things floating up, high and proud. two big ones that represented the numbers “2” and “0” in front of his garage. you guys had even decorated his convertible bmw and he loved it.
you two had been out all day, spending majority of it at one of his favorite gardens. carla had made a bunch of food for you and so did you and your mom. the day was perfect and you had planned on making sure it would end even greater. you took a moment to park your car and flick through all the photos you guys took together; the mementos of the first birthday you’d spent with him. the first time he had a girl to spend it with.
Today is my 30th birthday. I’m in lockdown in a global pandemic.
Today I sat on my living room floor and read messages and opened gifts from 14 people I wouldn’t have met without the X Files or this website. I videocalled with eight women who I wouldn’t know without this fandom, who I rely on though we barely discuss fandom any more.
Never let anybody make you feel that the spaces and people that you find online are less than those from elsewhere.
If 2020 has given me one gift it is the reminder that these relationships are the most precious, realest things I have been blessed with. Our jobs, schools, doctors appointments are legitimate when run online, so its time to banish the stigma attached to online love, platonic or otherwise.
These spaces, where we share our nerdiest, nichest interests, develop them and find like minds are the places that will get us through shit like this year. Physical distance, language barriers, different ideas are not insurmountable here. We already have the courage to stand apart from the norm, to be passionate without shame, we are curious, cautious, resistant to the minimisation of what we know to be of value. A pandemic is no match for these people.
The world may fall apart.
I may fall apart.
They will still be there.
To all of my pocket pals. Thank you for being there, even when I have nothing left to give. Thank you for accepting what I bring when I can. I love you.
To anyone still looking for their people. Don’t give up. Dont change. I love you.
