bisexual babe

they will never love you back. they will not give you the kind of love you want. they are not humans. they do not understand. you will weep blood and bleed tears and they will bare their pointed teeth and give you a smile. you will kill their enemies and your friends and when you stand in front of them with bloodied hands and hollow eyes they will smile with sharp lips and give you a kiss. you will carve your heart out and throw it at their feet and you will have nothing left to give. and you will never see them again. the love you hold for them is the kind that made you go mad. the love they hold for you is insubstantial, inconsequential.

they will never give you what you want. you come to ask for a cure. to see a wish granted. to prove your worth. they will take everything and leave you with nothing. you will give them all you have; what you wanted to sacrifice and what you never thought you could. because when you’re there, you will realize your wish is more important than anything you thought essential. nothing else matters: not your sweetheart, back at home, their heart is so easy to break; not your family, they never loved you like you deserve; not your life, you will get a new one, a better one, in exchange for this one. it’s all a lie, of course. you’ll know that, after; but only when it’s too late, when you’re abandoned, broken, forsaken, with no one to turn to, because you’ve destroyed everything you had. you won’t get your wish, of course.

they will never keep their word. you want to strike a bargain. the rules are clear; you are sure of it. all those stories do not apply to you, you are clever, you won’t be tricked. of course, the bargain you strike isn’t the one you think. their words are like thorns, like vines, like poison, twisting in your mind until they become unrecognizable. what they say is different from what you hear; but it’s their word that holds weight, not yours. they’re the ones who can’t lie, not you. they can lie, of course. they can lie better than you ever will. it’s in their nature; it flows with their blood; it spills with their tears. lies are woven deep in the roots of the forests they live in, they float in the air, poison the food you’ll eat. everything is a lie in Faerie; that is the only truth. they’ll keep their word, of course. but the word they give you isn’t what you think.

some things you should know while making a bargain with the fae

lace your clothes with iron, smear your hair with ash, sprinkle your lips with salt. the iron, the ash, the salt, they will not protect you; but better for them to think you have come prepared, better for them to think you dangerous. there is so little danger in Faerie for the fae, and they love a conundrum. if they think you’re a challenge, they’ll keep you alive longer, at least until they figure out how to break you.

speak as little as you can, because everything you say will be used against you. don’t smile; they will think it a threat. don’t weep; they are disgusted by weakness. never, never, never bleed; once they have your blood, you are lost, lost forever.

don’t listen to the voices. the voices, yes, the whispers that call out from between the trees, from the night sky, from the deep, deep, black ponds. don’t look up, or down, and don’t look back; keep your eyes fixed straight ahead, because the fae you’re striking a bargain with isn’t safe, but they’re safer than anything else.

your best chance is to listen and then run for your life the second they are distracted; because yes, they will be distracted: there are so many things in Faerie more interesting than a measly human like you. but you won’t run, i know. you are here for a reason, and you won’t leave until you get what you want. 

don’t be tricked by Faerie’s beauty. the world the fae live in is pure wonder, and it will seep into your mind and set roots there, poisoning it until you can’t think of anything else. but it is a beauty like a sharp dagger, like the wind on a cliff—it won’t hesitate to pierce your heart, to push you under.

don’t trust anything they say. they can see your deepest wishes, the ones you’re hiding at the bottom of your heart; but never trust them when they say they will offer you company when you’re lonely, because they will throw you into a nest of snakes. never accept when they offer to cure your sick relative, because for them, mortality is a sickness in itself. never let them heal your wounds, because you won’t survive the treatment. if they offer you anything for free, it’s a trap. if they offer you a bargain, it’s a trap.

some things you should know after you’ve made a bargain with the fae

you’re doomed. now you can dance, and smile, and weep, and enjoy yourself; kiss that pixie with the green hair, swim in the cursed waters of the moonlit lake, offer a flower to the elf who’s looking at you with sad eyes. you can jump down from the highest branches and trust that they will catch you; a swift death is a mercy you won’t be granted. you’re their newest plaything, so enjoy it while it lasts. because after they’re finished with you, you won’t really be able to enjoy anything else ever again.

you can’t escape. run, if you’re brave enough, if you’re smart enough to have come to your senses, even if it’s too late. run, if you want, it won’t change anything, but maybe you’ll anger them enough to quicken your demise. a quick, painless death is still out of your reach, but fine, run, if you wish to cut your stay in Faerie short. they’ll get bored of you more easily; a human who isn’t charmed isn’t as entertaining. so run, brave little human, dash between the trees and pretend you can’t feel them coming for you.

So, our Lung is on fire.

It is already threatened by huge deforestation, to the point it lost 20% of its wildth in less than 30 years.

It’s been burning for around two weeks and almost no word has been uttered about it. I, sincerely, have come to find out about it just now. I’m shooketh ™️ because we’re really burning away this planet.