Farraday YEEEE

Heed the tags, and heed your soul. There is a price to pay when you wish to be seen and heard. 

“What do you have there?” her mother asks from her doorway.

Alice-Laura slams the book shut, eyes as wide as saucers. She stutters over her words, as she always does. Her confidence is not at the same level as Jimmy’s, an unfair comparison, seeing as he’s three and she’s already a teenager.

“Nothing,” she finally says a coherent word, “just a book.”

Titch cannot lie, but he can tell half truths and be silent on things.

Titch knows about the cursed land, he feels it to his bones, but he learned to ignore it because his Father told him to ignore it

Titch does not know he is fae or a changeling, but he knows innately that he is different from his brother

Lady Margaery knows, but she doesn’t mention it. Whatever fae deal the farmer has is none of her business

His hair is the colour of fresh wheat. He has constellations worth of freckles and sun spots. His eyes are the colour of a river rock, smoothed by currents with algae clinging to the porous surface.

He believes that he can grow into being part of humanity

James believes Titch is the favourite purely by the attention he gets from their father. But when salt and iron harm one of your kids, of course you are going to be attentive

James “pranks” his new brother by giving him salt water. Half because of jealousy, the other half due to the thought “it’s salt, he’s over dramatic for not wanting salt.” It nearly kills Titch.

James makes his first deal with Titch unknowingly. “I’m sorry, so let’s forget about this, deal?” Titch doesn’t even realise that his magic catches this. James forgets more than he bargained for. Such as how strange Titch’s coming to their home and a time they weren’t brothers. Titch remembers.

Titch tells their father. Titch is punished, but Father relents after as it being for the best.

Titch loves Derek, but he fears himself the most.

One day, he will be called back into the fae wilds

Titch was a changeling child who was going to be killed in the harsh winter. The human “parent”could not do it and left the weapon on the swaddled babe by a dying oak and ran off.

A few days later, the owner of the farm was gazing at his farm, half dead and the other thriving. The fruit of labour was not in the one that thrived, but the barren left. It is the only part that is truly his doing.

Then he noticed something in the distance. A shine within the snow. As he walked towards it, he realised it was a child, colder than death. As he picked it up, he cut himself on the dagger hidden inside the folds of the blanket.

The eyes of the child with frostbitten eyelashes fluttered open, and gummy teeth nibble where the cut was made.

The farmer could only stare. This Titch, who he thought was good as dead, took no time to feast on his pain.

The Titch smiled. The teeth that were beginning to breach pink mounds were dully pointed.

And the farmer brought it home. Because this was the only thing that the left farm has ever given him. And as with anything that should grow, he will nurture it and let it thrive.

One is somewhat traumatised by the biblical supernatural and the other directly worships and has links to the biblical supernatural.

Julian, discovering Alice-Laura’s magic: Are- Are you a phantom?

Alice-Laura: What? No I can just do magic

Julian, sighing in relief: Thank good-

Alice-Laura: -because I’m a Satanist. I haven’t died and gone to hell for a thousand years, silly.

Julian: O.o