#Fairy Tale Inspired

[allaboutcinderella]

Julie Andrews as Cinderella (1957)

[detta-pica]

He makes Satoru stand on a blanket spread by the hearth and grabs a fresh washcloth. At the first touch of the cold, wet fabric, Satoru jumps like a startled cat. ���Let me,” Suguru asks belatedly. He starts with Satoru’s shoulders and nape, gently washing away the evidence of their night together. Suguru squeezes the cloth just for the pleasure of watching thin rivulets of water racing each other down Satoru’s back. There isn’t another body in the world as beautiful as this one, no matter how many scars it accumulates, how it changes with the passage of time. Suguru washes him like Satoru’s made of precious porcelain—slowly, admiring his work as he goes. Engraving it all into his memory: the shape of Satoru’s shoulders, his strong arms and elegant hands, the angle of his collar bones. The soft skin on the inside of his wrists, the suppressed laughter Suguru elicits when he gets to Satoru’s ticklish belly, the white hair leading down to his cock, which, notably, remains soft. “Do you think you’re done for the night?” Suguru asks, kneeling for better access to Satoru’s long legs. Satoru hums thoughtfully. He lifts a foot when Suguru runs his fingers along the arch, easily keeping his balance. Suguru smiles, and can’t resist pressing his lips to Satoru’s knee. “And you accuse me of being sentimental,” Satoru mutters. “I dunno. It’s a little hard—haha, laugh it up, asshole—getting into the mood when I know it’ll be morning soon.” “Hm.” Suguru runs the cloth over the back of Satoru’s knee, then up towards his inner thigh. The skin there is covered in marks, some pretty painful-looking. Suguru presses on one, and is rewarded by Satoru’s hiss, a hand coming down to tug on Suguru’s bangs in warning. “I don’t require anything from you for what I have planned. You just need to stand here and look pretty.” “Guess I’m already doing it.” Satoru pushes his own hair out of his face, smiling cheekily. Suguru takes advantage. He throws the washcloth aside, stands, and tugs Satoru down low enough to kiss his forehead. “Sit down for a moment. I need to prepare.” “Ooh. How involved is this going to be?” “Very.”

This time, I am so prepared for WIP Wednesday. Here's a scene from the final chapter of my spooky season fic. The update will happen on Friday, because of reasons.

[chloe-spade]

A New Love Story Prologue

Idia was the son of Hades and Persephone, a couple known for the unfortunate start of their love story. You know, Hades kidnapping Persephone, taking her to the underworld, and causing fall and winter respectfully until Hades allowed her to go back, only to eat six pomegranate seeds so she could stay for six months of the year. That's why fall and winter exist, and that's when the marriage conversation falls into Idia's ears.

Idia, the son of Hades and Persephone, was born during the winter season, which explains his pale complexion and similarities to Hades. He was a surprise but very welcoming, which is why his grandmother, Demeter, who is also the mother of Persephone, welcomes him during the spring and summer seasons.

It was that spring day when Demeter was curious about Idia's love life, which was none, nothing, nada, zilch.

He saw how, if unlucky, love destroys the love of humans and gods. Idia did not want to do that to a human, whether he fell in love with them or not. It was understandable that many were curious about his love life; as the prince of the literal underworld, it would be a miracle if he fell in love, yet Idia had moments where he vowed never to fall in love.

Oh, but he had to answer to his grandmother.

"No, Γιαγιά, I have not courted anyone yet," Idia answered, "It's not something I have in mind at the moment."

"Oh, my Εγγονός," Demeter sighed, "you must have someone you might have a connection with?"

Idia shakes his head. "I don't, and I doubt I ever will, γιαγιά."

Persephone sighed, "Μητέρα, Idia only turned 18 last winter. Let him take his time. Romance is not for everyone, Μητέρα, you have to understand that. Idia is still merely a boy and I surely do not want to rush him all because he is of marrying age."

'Thank Γαία,' Idia thought to himself. 'As if I would want to actually want to kidnap someone to be my bride like Πατέρας did. I could not forgive myself if I did and what if that person doesn't even fall for me? That would be acceptable. Why do I have to fall in love? If I would, it would be on my own terms…though I do believe that love in first sight seems stupid.'

"Oh, enough about his love life," Demeter laughed, "How are things back in the underworld? I do hope Hades adored my new gift."

"Oh, he did," Persephone grinned, "I'm glad you remembered that he adores your flowers."

Idia rolled his eyes and started to look around the spring around him. He was drifting off, just staring at the many flowers that surrounded them at the moment. Roses, Peonies, Marigolds, whatever you called it, and he can remember them by memory and name. He looked at the spring water that helped the flowers grow with the help of the nymphs that Demeter had. His eyes drifted onto a particular one, his blue eyes that matched the spring itself and hair that was a mixture of purple and silver mixed well together, leaving Idia speechless.

Idia was truly impressed, watching the Nymph diligently tending to his work.

"Amazing…" Idia muttered to himself.

The Nymph looked back at Idia, which made Idia turn back with a slight blush, embarrassed. But he saw the Nymph laugh a little and continued to water the plants but with a new smile on his face.

"Idia," Persephone whispered, "I'm sorry, dear. You just looked so distracted. Did we bore you with our conversation?"

"Uh, no." Idia coughed, "I just watched the flowers, you know, the usual."

"Yes, I do know," Persephone laughed, "You are allowed to walk around, Idia. Go,"

Idia got up and began to look around. He only wandered so far into his grandmother's garden to disturb the nymphs helping the plants grow.

But the same Nymph he was staring at walked over with a smile. Idia blushed and looked away, still embarrassed from earlier.

"Hello," He greeted.

"H-Hello," Idia gulped, still looking down.

"Oh, you don't have to be shy with me. I know you were staring but I have no complaints." The Nymph spoke with a laugh, "You look adorable while looking."

"I didn't want to make you uncomfortable," Idia stuttered. "I hope I didn't."

"You have not made me uncomfortable, dear prince of the Underworld," Azul reassured with a comforting tone.

"Uh…what's your name?"

"Oh, It's Azul." The Nymph smiled. "Αζούλ Εκ μελιάς σπήλαιο."

"That's an oddly beautiful name for such a beautiful nymph," Idia complimented, but his face turned red after realizing his words. "Uh, I'm sorry…I mean, you do a beautiful name b-but…uh.."

Azul grinned. "Aw, such a sweet prince you are."

Idia looked down, now embarrassed.

"And I do know who you are, Ίδια σάβανο," Azul teased, tending the waters. "And my, I never knew that your hair looked so beautiful when it's around the flowers."

"I-I'm simply lucky that it never burned the lovely flowers here," Idia gulped.

"Ah, I can see that," Azul smiles. "You know, you look beautiful. Maybe almost…"

"Don't!" Idia gasped. "I don't ever want to be compared to Αφροδίτη!"

Azul smirks and laughs. "My, oh my, seems like the sweet prince of the underworld is such a shy person. It's actually a refreshing to hear a greek prince that is actually nice to be around."

"O-oh," Idia blushed again.

Azul managed to chuckle and invited Idia to sit down by him. Idia watched as Azul tended the water, perfect enough for the flowers to grow almost immediately. Idia continued to watch, absolutely mesmerized by Azul's magic.

"So..how does one become a nymph?" Idia asked, genuinely curious about Azul's existence.

"Hmm, just to be born a nymph," Azul answered, still unsure.

"Yeah, but I mean in a sense of.." Idia paused for a moment. "Were you reborn as nymph?"

Azul doesn't answer as he continues his job, making Idia feel awkward and guilty for asking such an invasive question.

"Do not worry about offending me," Azul spoke up. "The truth is that I was born deep in the sea, and one of the few nymphs of water that tends to be outside an ocean,lake,sea, you name it. But…I also had friends to, but it's a long story about that too."

"What do you mean?"

"It still pains me to speak about it years later," Azul admitted. "But those two were my closest friends, despite our moments of arguments and anger."

"…You mean they…" Idia slowly spoke.

"You are the prince, you should know." Azul vaguely answered, picking up a vase of water. "I'm sorry, but I have to go. But please, do visit again. I like talking with you."

Idia watched Azul leave, walking away towards the other nymphs, still caring for the flowers.

"A water nymph outside the water," Idia muttered. "Amazing. But what does he mean about his friends? Are they dead?"

Idia guessed so, with Azul's hesitancy to talk more about his friends and reminding him that he was the prince of the literal underworld, so he must've seen them before. With his lack of interest in the dead, Idia should have paid more attention to who died and who was punished by his father once they died. His younger brother, Ortho, did, however. But how could he ask him when he was still in the underworld, staying with his father?

One of the many conditions for Idia's visit was that he might never make contact with the underworld during the spring and summer and wait until fall arrives to make the contact. But he also needs to keep in contact with Azul in case he finds his friends, but he needs to learn how to do that.

That night, still underneath Demeter's hunt and lovely home, he was silent the entire time. That doesn't surprise Persephone and Demeter, but as a mother, Persephone noticed that this wasn't his typical silence.

"ο γιος μου," Persephone hummed softly. "What happened?"

"Oh, I met with one of γιαγιά's nymphs," Idia explained. "But he seems upset about losing his friends years ago. And I want to know how to…"

"Bring his friends back?"

"Ugh, I know that's bad, but Azul was actually nice to me despite my title and I want him to be happy and at least be with his friends once again, but I know that doesn't go well."

"Oh, you seemed so worried," Demeter said. "But you know your father, Idia, he might not want to help."

"μητέρα," Persephone hissed. "Idia, who may have the ability to, but you have to be in the underwold for that to happen. Are you sure you want that?"

Idia blushed and nodded. "If that were to make Azul happy, but I don't even know if it does."

"Why haven't you asked him?" Persephone pondered. "You two seem to talk for hours earlier."

"Cause I don't want to seem odd to him." Idia explained. "I want to seem…less like πατέρας."

Persephone sighed but nodded in understanding. "Alright, once fall comes in, I'll ask your father about this. He might help, but I worry about his response."

Idia smiles. "Thank you, μητέρα."

Idia only had to wait until fall in a few weeks, but he found someone to love. He wants to make the Nymph happy and knows how wrong it is, but can he help someone in need? Can he?

Once fall arrived.

Idia, oddly, cannot wait for it.

[mysweettaylor]

how could you be,, so reckless with my heart?

[leggos]

princess

self indulgent skip beat art as a redraw from last year

[girlfromthecrypt]

Me trying to be a plotter:

I recently learned about plotting and pantsing, and guess what category I normally fall into. The thing is, I believe I am a bad pantser. Planning my writing is tiresome and sometimes blocks off my creativity, but I feel like I can't rely on myself not making mistakes or creating plotholes anymore. Seeing as I recently decided to turn one of my batshit ideas into a novel, I want to be particularly careful. This is my first shot at true long-format writing, and if I'm not meticulous about working out the content of every last chapter beforehand, I think Imma run this into the ground.

It's not like I've never plotted out anything before, it's just that I normally write down bullet points and then get lost in the flow once I actually start writing. I want this book to be something I can actually be proud of. If that means I've set my expectations too high, so be it. (I'm saying this now lol. Hope I don't regret building this pressure later. Ngl I prolly will but I'm just super pumped rn sooo)

Also, working title is

A Fucked Up Fairytale.

God, I love tumblr fonts.

[universalzone]

The Nutcracker and the Mouse King by Hoffmann Scarf Shawl Wrap.

[dragneel-brothers]

Guess who

[loreartm]

[allaboutcinderella]

This is me once again imploring anyone who loves “Cinderella” to please watch The Slipper & the Rose!

Not only is it a musical with original songs, the dance numbers slap, the costumes are stunning and the plot is unique while keeping to the classic story!

(I wish so badly this would become a stage musical honestly)

If this post gets you to check out the film, leave your thoughts in the comments!

[detta-pica]

Suguru wanted to sit down. Lie down, maybe, and sleep, so that he wouldn’t have to be in this moment, wouldn’t have to feel. But dreaming was what had brought them here in the first place. With shaking hands, he helped Satoru put on fresh, dry clothes, then bundled him into bed for good measure. Satoru was entirely docile under his hands, showing none of his incredible, singular capacity for violence. He didn’t seem to feel any specific way about it—about anything, maybe, other than Suguru being in the general vicinity. Suguru had to laugh. What a situation he found himself in. “What’s funny?” Satoru asked. “Nothing,” Suguru told him, wiping his eyes dry. “I’m just—tired, I think. Tired of a lot of things.” “Tired of me?” Once upon a time, the question would have carried—something. An accusation, a threat, a plea to stay by Satoru’s side. Now, there was nothing but idle curiosity. “No. Never. Even while you are like this, you are mine to keep.”

Fairy tale inspired, mystery, dreams, angst, a little experimental, established relationship

Rating: E

Complete

~35k words

[super-ion]

Apple & Spindle

Chapter 1

Once upon a time, in a far away kingdom, two children were born on the same night.

One was the child of the king and queen, who were beloved by their subjects. They had tried and failed to conceive for many years and were overcome with joy at the arrival of the baby. The entire kingdom rejoiced and on the child's first birthday, emissaries from neighboring kingdoms, both human and fae, arrived to pay respects to the royal family. Late in the celebration, an uninvited guest arrived - a fae creature, ancient and wicked. The fae lord cast a curse upon the child to prick a finger upon the spindle of a spinning wheel and fall into an enchanted sleep from which there would be no awakening. Try as they might, no human magician or fae sorcerer could break the curse. Devastated as they were, the king and queen resolved to raise their child to adulthood in hopes that one day, someone would find a way to save their child.

The second child was born to a widow. Grieving her lost wife, she spilled three drops of blood on freshly fallen snow and beseeched the spirits of the forest to give her a child. The spirits were moved by her pleas and nine months later she gave birth. The woman loved her child with all her heart and they were happy. One day the woman chanced to meet one of the court magicians, a witch of some renown. They fell in love and were soon married. Scarcely a year later, the woman took ill. She begged her wife to take care of her child and though the witch was indifferent towards the child, she consented. Shortly thereafter the child's mother passed away, leaving the child alone with a stepmother who was cold and distant.

The two children grew, not knowing that their fates were entwined…

Briar sat at the vanity in his room and examined his hair in the mirror. The barber had tried his best to fix the damage, but there was only so much he could do with so little. His mother had of course been furious, but Briar had acted alone in hacking off the long curls that had haunted him for so long. With his blond hair now boy-short, his head felt delightfully light. He tossed his head and gave himself a nod, it could use some work, but it was definitely an improvement.

He stood and began working through some of the exercises he had seen the squires working through. His parents granted him plenty of leeway in his pursuits, but his mother balked at the idea of him training with the pages and squires. The last time he brought it up she had fallen back on the excuse that it was "unbecoming of a princess".

He scowled at the memory and made a particularly aggressive lunge towards his imaginary opponent. There were days when he felt as if his parents' affection would smother him. He couldn't exactly blame them, he had only been afforded eighteen years and they were determined to make the most of it.

He just wished they could see beyond the beloved daughter they saw him as. He wished they'd let him live.

A clatter at the window interrupted his thoughts. He spun as the window swung open and a figure tumbled ungracefully to the floor. The figure moaned softly in pain before painfully standing, then froze at the sight of Briar.

He looked familiar and it took Briar a moment to recognize him as the boy who always sat with the court witch Hilde during court dinners. He had always looked like he'd rather be anywhere else.

The boy, Briar thought it was a boy at least, looked to be about his age. He was scrawny, not quite grown into his gangly limbs. Despite a black eye and tear streaked dirt smudged on his cheeks, there was an ethereal beauty to him. Beneath the dirt Briar could make out pale skin, red lips and startling green eyes.

"Can I help you?" Briar asked, not really sure what one asked to a stranger who tumbled in through a third story window.

The boy blinked.

"I'm sorry!" He stammered, "I was… I mean I didn't know anyone was in here."

Briar cocked an eyebrow.

"The candlelight didn't give it away?"

"I was trying to get to the library."

"There isn't a library in this tower," Briar said, narrowing his eyes.

The boy made a miserable groan and dragged his hands across his face.

"How did you get in here?" Briar asked as a thought occurred to him.

"I climbed," the boy replied as if it weren't obvious.

"No. I mean, how did you get past the wards?"

"The… wards?"

"This tower is warded against intruders. No male may enter unless he is of royal blood."

The boy took on a greenish pallor and a whole gamut of emotion played out on his face. He opened his mouth but all that came out was a strangled squeak as his eyes rolled back and he fainted.

Briar dropped his practice sword and lunged to catch the intruder, barely catching his head before it hit the floor.

***

Rose came to on a bed that was far softer than it had any right to be.

The jumbled events of the evening came back to her and her heart sank. The pack of her fellow squires had tricked her. She'd been desperate for any reprieve from their torment, so she'd gone along with their dare. Instead of a library, she had fallen in through a window into the chambers of… oh no…

Rose scrambled to sit up but froze. The princess was lounging on a chair, watching her intently with impossibly blue eyes. For once, rumor proved true, the princess had in fact cut her hair down to almost nothing. She was wearing a men's shirt, slightly too large, and trousers. She was tapping the blade of a dagger against her leg, a far cry from the bored looking girl that Rose had seen at court.

"I have some questions for you," the princess declared."You'd better have some answers."

She deftly flourished the dagger with the practiced skill of someone with too much time in their hands.

Rose swallowed.

"You didn't call the guards?" she asked meekly.

The princess grimaced at the fact that she'd been thwarted in asking the first question, but quickly recovered with a cocky smirk.

"Not yet. You falling through my window is possibly the most interesting thing that's ever happened to me. Let's say I'm curious. Now… you're the witch's son, are you not?"

"Stepchild," Rose replied curtly.

"But you are a boy?"

Rose's stomach twisted.

"I… I don't know."

The princess made a thoughtful noise and leaned forward.

"What's your name?" the princess asked.

"My name?"

"Yes, what would you like me to call you?"

Rose's mouth went dry. The way she asked it made Rose think she wanted more than just the name she had been given. The way the princess studied her gave her the impression that she wanted the name Rose whispered to her reflection in the mirror when she was alone, the name she wrote in the margins of her notes before blotting the whole thing out with ink, rendering it illegible.

"Rosamund," she whispered. "Or Rose, I guess."

The princess's face split into an incandescent smile that made her heart flutter slightly. She slipped the dagger into a boot and offered a hand to Rose.

"Well, it's very nice to meet you, Rose. My name is Briar."

Briar. Rose couldn't recall ever hearing the princess referred to by that name. Why would…?

Oh… oh!

The hair, the men's shirt, the name. The princess was like her, but the other way around.

Rose cautiously took her (his?) hand.

"His royal highness, prince Briar?" she asked.

For a beat, she worried that she had overstepped or perhaps broken him. He stared at her wide eyed before his grin somehow widened even more.

He helped her to her feet.

"Do you want to get cleaned up?" he asked.

She caught her reflection in the mirror behind him and grimaced. She was a complete mess. She nodded gratefully.

***

Briar rushed about his room, tidying up the worst of the haphazard mess. A girl was in his room, fallen right in like some fairy story.

And she was like him. She knew what it was to have to pretend to be someone. She knew what it meant to be burdened with a name that didn't fit.

The door to the adjoining washroom opened and he stopped in his tracks. She had scrubbed the dirt from her face and combed back her damp hair. He had thought her pretty before, but scrubbed clean, she was beautiful, even with the black eye. She was wrapped up in a silk robe that he had offered her. He had hated the pastel pink when the robe had been given to him, but she looked radiant in it. She was looking down upon it and feeling the silk like it was the most beautiful thing she had ever worn.

She noticed him staring and she immediately hunched her shoulders defensively. It was a gesture of someone who was terrified of being seen and judged.

He reluctantly tore his gaze away and gestured to a tray of fruit.

"Are you hungry?"

Staring at her feet, she shuffled over to the bowl and plucked an apple.

"Thank you," she murmured as she sat down.

He sat across from her and tried his best not to stare. From the corner of his eye, he did notice her casting curious glances at him.

"So… um…" he began, suddenly tongue tied.

"So." she replied, biting into her apple.

"Do you fall into towers often?" He asked, grasping at anything to break the ice.

She stared at him for a moment before she burst into laughter.

"No, not usually," she replied.

"How old are you?"

"Thirteen, but I'll be fourteen next month."

"Oh! My birthday is-"

"We have the same birthday," she said flatly, looking away from him."

He cocked his head. Of course she knew when his birthday was, especially if they shared one.

She sighed. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to bring down the mood. It's just I'm not the biggest fan of birthdays… not since…"

She left the rest unsaid. He knew enough that he felt he had a pretty good idea.

"I'm sorry," he said. "I myself have a complicated relationship with birthdays."

She perked up, a bright spark of curiosity in her eyes.

"So it's true? You're cursed?"

"Yep. When I turn eighteen, I'm supposed to prick my finger and fall asleep and never wake up."

"How does it not crush you? Knowing what will happen?"

He leaned back and shrugged.

"Can't really do anything about it. Believe me, a lot of people tried. So I just try to make the most of the time I've got."

She peered at him like he was a puzzle she wanted to figure out.

"Can I ask you something?" He asked.

"You've done little else since we met," she said with a small smile.

"What were you doing climbing the tower anyway?"

She stared at the apple cupped in her hands.

"It was a dare. The other boys…" her mouth twisted in discomfort. "...there's a group of boys, other squires, that make my life difficult. I suppose I don't act manly enough for their liking. I thought if I took on a dare, they'd back off just a little. I didn't know about the wards on the tower. I think they meant for me to fail..."

Her eyes widened.

"Oh god, they probably saw me fall in. What are they planning on doing to me now?"

She looked suddenly so miserable, sitting there. He had to say something.

"But there are girl squires and knights and stuff. I mean, there are two guardswomen just down the hall"

"Yes, but there aren't any…" she gestured helplessly at herself, "people like me in the knights corps. At least not that I've ever heard of."

She hunched her shoulders in a way that made her look like she had a shameful confession. She took a breath and chewed her lip.

"I don't even want to be a knight," she said finally.

He leaned forward, resting his arms on his knees.

"Then why do it?" he asked. "Why be a squire if that's not what you want?"

She met his gaze.

"Because sometimes it's easier to just go along with what people expect."

He considered that. He knew the feeling, the nagging suspicion that if he just acted like the princess everyone expected him to be, life might be simpler. But such an existence would be suffocating.

"Easier maybe, but not better," he murmured.

She gave a little half shrug.

"Alright, but if you could do anything, be anything, what would you do?" He asked.

She startled slightly at the question and he wondered if anyone had ever asked her that before.

"I don't… I suppose I might be a scholar… or…" she wrung her hands self consciously.

"Or…?"

She steeled herself.

"I think I'd want to be a magician."

He felt his eyes widen. He had met his share of magicians in his life, human wizards and fae sorcerers, and watching them work had always been wondrous.

"But your stepmother-"

"Hilde and I aren't close," she said crisply. "She doesn't want anything to do with me. I very much doubt she'd take me as an apprentice."

"Oh, I'm sorry."

"It's fine," she replied.

He leaned back, contemplating an idea that had started taking root.

"Rose, I think I might know a way we can help each other."

She tilted her head curiously and regarded him.

"I'm in need of… of a lady's maid. I've managed to scare off the last three, much to my mother's displeasure. You could take the position. I'm very low maintenance, it wouldn't be difficult work. You wouldn't have to be a squire any more and my mother would be satisfied."

Her eyes widened and she stared at him as if he had sprouted an extra head.

"I could get you unlimited access to the royal library." He added, playing his trump card.

"Oh… I don't know," she said, despite the envious gleam in her eyes. "I mean, I don't think they'd hire a…"

She grimaced.

"A boy," she finished flatly.

"Nobody's going to believe you're a boy if you walk out of this tower," he replied. "Believe me, the wards on this place are rock solid."

She chewed on her lip. He desperately wanted her to agree. He hadn't had a real friend in a very long time.

"Okay," she said quietly.

His heart leapt.

"Okay? As in, you'll do it?"

She gave him a shy smile and nodded.

***

The guards barely batted an eye when Briar emerged from his room with a guest. Rose was fairly certain one of them had given the other a knowing smirk that had made Rose blush furiously.

He escorted her down the tower to the majordomo's office to secure Rose's position as the princess's new lady's maid. The thin little woman eyed her dubiously before shrugging and producing the appropriate paperwork.

Rose was even more surprised when she produced two dresses in the color of the royal livery. The prospect of having dresses, even if they weren't technically hers, made her head spin. The thought of wearing them openly only further convinced her that her life was careening out of her control, into some strange, wonderful new direction.

From there the two of them walked to the wing that housed the magicians' quarters, guards in tow. Briar chattered affably the entire time about nothing in particular, almost as if he were trying to distract her from the gnawing anxiety in her belly. In any event, she found it charming and somehow comforting.

They reached the door to the apartment that she shared with her stepmother. He gave her a bow as he bid her goodnight which she returned with an awkward curtsey. She caught herself smiling after him as he disappeared around the corner.

Opening the door, she steeled herself, it was late, but her stepmother kept odd hours. Of course, Hilde was sitting next to the fire with her back to the door. Rose heard the crackle and scrape off a page turning and she crept towards her room, hoping her stepmother was too engrossed with her book to notice her.

"The captain came by looking for you," Hilde said from behind the high back of her chair. "It seems that you disappeared after your training exercises."

Rose let out the breath she'd been holding. Might as well get this conversation over with.

"I'm not going back," she said. "I done being a squire."

Hilde turned to look at her with one of her perfect eyebrows arched.

"Oh? And what exactly will you do instead?"

"I have a new position, attending the… the royal family."

She didn't mention the draw of the library or the royal tutors.

Hilde's gaze pierced into her. Rose desperately wished for this conversation to be over, but she stood her ground.

After what seemed like an eternity, her stepmother shrugged and returned to her book.

Rose continued to her room, closing the door behind her. She flopped onto her bed and stared at the ceiling, replaying the events of the evening. Finally she rolled onto her side to face the tiny portrait of her mother that sat on her bedside table.

"Hey mom," she whispered. "I made a friend today."

[neighborhoodoodle]

My dtiys entry from IG. Check out (@)lydith (Sofia Rossi) on Instagram!

[mystical-magician]

@ironstrangehaven Ironstrange Week 2023 Day 6: Grief | Indigo

This one was inspired by the fairy tale The Six Swans.

[paulmarina]

Kouglopf & Cie Bakery House with the Well in Riquewihr France

[sillylilfairy]

My OCs Jacqueline and Finvarra. Been working on getting better at art and script writing these last few years so I can finally create a folklore and fairy-tale inspired Webcomic with these two. Jacqueline is the granddaughter of Jack The Giant Slayer and is searching for the giant who attacked the royal family and kidnapped her mother as a child.

He may very well hold the key to tracking down her mother, but requesting help from the fae always comes with a price.

Finvarra is based on the amorous Irish fairy King of Connacht of the same name and has strong associations with horses, ensuring good harvests as well as death. He has a penchant for "borrowing" mortals who catch his fancy and whisking them away to the Otherworld for a time. He's also the youngest brother of Angus Og and son of The Dagda. And incredibly frustrating to find information on XD Anyway, I'm going to be sharing a bunch of sketches, ref sheets, redoing old pieces and little one off comics as I continue to rework and flesh out the script in the new year. I plan on coloring this too :3 Also, if anyone knows how to put longer posts under a cut, please let me know. I want to info dump about my OCs and giants in folklore so bad but scared of annoying people ;w;