Our Fairies Fuck Now: From Pixie Hollow to Velaris

It was my eighth birthday. And I had the flu. I was miserable- groggy, sticky, slightly nauseous. Somewhere between the cold sweats and my fourth cup of Jell-O, my parents came into my (very pink, very princess-themed) bedroom, sat down beside my bed, and handed me a gift: the 2008 Tinker Bell DS game.

In my feeble state, I had just enough strength to prop myself up, slide in my new game card (I can still hear that satisfying click), and begin my Pixie Hollow adventure.

I stayed up all night tinkering pots, collecting dewdrops, and painting ladybugs. I played that game so much I forgot all about being sick. And even after I was healthy and back at school, my little world of Pixie Hollow remained a glittering, glowing place I could disappear into at the end of the day.

Still from Tinker Bell 2008. Image sourced from Pinterest

Fast forward. It was about a few weeks before my twenty-fourth birthday when I came down with a terrible cold. Headache, scratchy throat, the works. I called out of work and spent the day in bed, my two cats curled at my feet and a forgotten cup of herbal tea on my nightstand. I had just enough energy to prop myself up and hold my Kindle upright.

And Feyre and Rhysand were about to fuck. 

I guess I’m not the only one who grew up.

Fairy media was flourishing in all forms during our childhood. From the Rainbow Magic Series (which I purchased and consumed fervently courtesy of the Scholastic Book Fair), The now-cult-classic Barbie: Fairytopia (2005—vintage!), the Sky Dancers and Pixie Flyers (I mean, they literally flew—how magical is that?), to the seven-part Tinker Bell movie franchise that began in 2008.

Somewhere down the road between eight and twenty four, the tinkling, bubbling winged creatures that filled my childhood daydreams grew sharper edges— becoming schemers and seducers. We traded in our tinkering tools for iron swords, and swapped flower beds for— well— actual beds. 

When did fairies stop fluttering and start fucking?

A strong case can be made for the transitional paranormal romance craze of the early 2010s—striking right in the middle hormonally volatile tween years. It gave us literary and box office hits such as The Twilight Saga, Warm Bodies, and The Mortal Instruments—all of which practically read like softcore porn to my twelve-year-old-eyes.

Fans at the Twilight Premier. Image sourced from Business Insider

But the people hungered for more! And the most devoted fans took to sites like AO3 to turn their erotic fantasies into fan fiction— some of which became insanely popular media on their own (you know what you did, E.L. James).

The Rainbow Magic readers and fanfic writers are all grown up now. But that bright spark of girlhood never left them. For some, it burned so brightly— so purely— they created fantastical fae worlds of their own. Though they look a little different than they did when we were young. 

Books series like ACOTAR, Throne of Glass, Crescent City, From Blood and Ash, and Quicksilver have all reached bestseller lists and found a home in many of our hearts (and bookshelves).

Readers at the Release of the newest Crescent City installment. Image sourced from Pinterest

Yes— there’s fucking. But there's also friendship, found family, fearlessness, and faith to be found in the depths of these characters too. The spark of girlhood that lives in all of us gets to burn a little brighter every time we get to curl up with a cup of tea and disappear in our fantasy realm for a little while.

Our fairies fuck now. 

And maybe that's not a loss of innocence—

 but a reclamation of it.