fiery little fury
@littleredsongbird.bsky.social
42 followers 29 following 360 posts
──𝕭𝑜𝑛𝑛𝑖𝑒 was as captivated as a 𝑙𝑖𝑡𝑡𝑙𝑒 𝑚𝑎𝑡𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝑠𝑜𝑛𝑔𝑏𝑖𝑟𝑑 by the bright plumage and melody of 𝒉𝒆𝒓 𝒃𝒐𝒓𝒏 𝒏𝒆𝒔𝒕𝒎𝒂𝒕𝒆. 🕯🔮🕯 Fiery little pixie. Druid Priestess in the woods, traveling fairylands. 𝑻𝒉𝒆 𝑳𝒂𝒔𝒕 𝑹𝒆𝒂𝒄𝒉 𝑻𝒐𝒘𝒂𝒓𝒅 𝑳𝒊𝒈𝒉𝒕. 【FICTION, RP, MC, 25+. TVDNOVELS AU.】
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𝑺𝑤𝑒𝑒𝑡 𝒔𝑜𝑛𝑔𝑏𝑖𝑟𝑑 𝕭𝑜𝑛𝑛𝑖𝑒…

A haunted and possessed psychic medium. Witch. Druidess. An otherworldly fiery little pixie fury in love with poetry, song, romance, darkness, danger, 𝐃𝐞𝐚𝐭𝐡, blood, and unconventionality. 𝑯𝒊𝒔 𝒍𝒊𝒕𝒕𝒍𝒆 𝑹𝒆𝒅𝒃𝒊𝒓𝒅.

【 ──Stranger than FICTION. ROLEPLAY. MC, 25+. MDNI. 𝐒𝐞𝐥𝐞𝐜𝐭𝐢𝐯𝐞.】
𝑙𝑖𝑡𝑡𝑙𝑒𝑟𝑒𝑑𝑠𝑜𝑛𝑔𝑏𝑖𝑟𝑑 • WITCH •
Making love with the autumnal reaper and spirits on the forest floor.
𝑁𝑜𝑡 𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐫 𝑜𝑟 𝐮𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐫, 𝑏𝑢𝑡 𝓲𝓷-𝓫𝓮𝓽𝔀𝓮𝓮𝓷, 𝑖𝑠 𝑤𝘩𝑒𝑟𝑒 𝑦𝑜𝑢’𝑙𝑙 𝑓𝑖𝑛𝑑 𝑡𝘩𝑒 𝖇𝖑𝖊𝖘𝖘𝖊𝖉 𝑎𝑛𝑑 𝖚𝖓𝖇𝖑𝖊𝖘𝖘𝖊𝖉 𝒖𝒏𝒔𝒆𝒆𝒏.
A pixie redhaired maiden with shimmery red fairy wings. A group of fly agaric.
Reposted by fiery little fury
What if we kissed under the harvest supermoon
The fae folk leave their gifts of hag stone beneath the harvest moon.
Our biting kiss, our ravenous teeth, our hungry, devouring mouths and the taste of blood.
Deep within the woods a witch runs barefoot on rain-damp autumnal earth and moss while a beloved beast gives chase. In love and bloodlust howling with devotion beneath the brilliant full moon, together for always. Conjurations and evocations
A witch who is the vessel, the medium, and the voice.
At the witching hour, a druid priestess and an unkindness of ravens descend for the reaping.
Let's play 𝑊𝑎𝑘𝑒 𝑡𝘩𝑒 𝐷𝑒𝑎𝑑.
Reposted by fiery little fury
Whatever black, shifty shape she saw—or imagined—is gone like a raven in the mist.
Spending this season of the witch disappearing into haunted woodlands and transforming into a mist that pulses with powerful ancient otherworldly unnerving magick beneath raven wings.
In haunted woodlands spirits reveal secrets, ghosts tell lullabies, and I am a faerie witch dancing, singing, disappearing into forest mist.
Beloved October with thinning veils awakens the soul the way she sings, weeps, and bleeds ruthlessly into me.
A coven of sisters gathers stepping into the fairy ring.
A cooking-hearth, magick spit, and bottomless cauldron.
There is a ritualistic fire burning in the thick of the woods. A sacred eternal flame. A lantern in the darkness.
Running off barefoot disappearing into haunted misted mossy woodlands, howling winds carry secrets of ancient trees, and birds take flight on wings of night.
Forever red-mouthed and otherworldly.
Kiss me so ravenous and raw, biting and devouring, draw blood and smear it, painting it across my lips like red lipstick.
The dark goddess sings within my blood.
Digging up words like I'm digging up graves.
I just want to write until all these howling ghosts are silent and there's nothing left inside of me.
When ghosts and spirits reach out to you, it means they want to be heard.
Wild cherry tobacco smoke through a churchwarden pipe. Apple cinnamon incense, spiked mulled cider, and spice. The thinning of veils, autumnal delight, and a celebration of night.