#fairy tale drabbles

[thestuffedalligator]

The rain was coming down like a giant was pissing on the city.

It was times like this that I wished I was human. Detectives love rain. They want the stuff to wash them away with the scum of the street.

I can’t stand water. Never touched the stuff.

My name is Ginger. Once upon a time I used to be the Gingerbread Man. Now I’m a private dick and I drink enough to be a rum cake.

It’s a hard job if you aren’t a tough cookie. I have all the requirements. I’m sugar and spice and a whole heaping of trouble.

I also got an umbrella I borrowed from the Wicked Witch of the West after a case last month. It helps on days like this.

The city was still sleeping like Snow White when I made my way to the crime scene. I turned into an alley and stepped into the remains of a pillow fight from hell. White feathers were scattered across the alley like a soggy snowfall. Blood mixed with rain and trickled down the cobblestones.

Gretel gave me a nod when I walked up. Gretel’s good people. She’s the only person I know who won’t try to eat me. “Thought you might want to see this, Ginger.”

“You’ve been stuffing pillows tonight, Gretel? It looks like Christmas in here.”

Gretel made a face and pointed a thumb to a lump under a tarp. “Then you just missed the Christmas dinner,” she said.

I took a look. There wasn’t much to see besides a greasy little pile of what you’d get if you ate a whole rotisserie chicken down to the bones.

The vic was Chicken Little. I knew the name. Little was a local nut who started a doomsday cult in the neighbourhood. I thought she’d be the kind of dame who’d get into trouble someday.

This wasn’t what I had in mind. Who’d want to whack a pamphlet thumper who thought the world was going to end anyways?

I picked up a rib. There were tiny scrapes scored across it in a line, like she’d been using it to count the days to oblivion.

I stared. “These are teeth marks, Gretel.”

I looked up. Gretel looked sick. That’s when I knew for sure.

“These are fox teeth, Gretel,” I said. “There’s a fox in the city.”

“Ginger, I think you should leave town.”

I flicked the rib back down into the pile of bones and pulled a stub of a candy cane cigar out of my trench coat pocket. “My brother has a house out in the country,” Gretel was saying. “He hates eating gingerbread as much as me. You’d be safe out there for a few days until we can track this fox down.”

I patted down my pockets for a light. Gretel took pity on me and knelt into the shade of the umbrella to light a match.

I puffed a few clouds of peppermint smoke. For a second it really was like Christmas in that alleyway.

I don’t care much for Christmas. Typically people look at me and think of dessert.

“Gretel, you’re good people,” I said. I didn’t realize that I hadn’t said it before. It felt like it had to be said. “Thanks for letting me know.”

“Jesus Christ, Ginger, you know how your story ends.”

“Yeah, well. We're all trying to run, run, run as fast as we can from who you are.” I took one last drag and turned out of the alley towards the soggy city. For once, I wished the rain could wash me away. “But eventually it catches up to us.”

[laurasimonsdaughter]

The Singing Princess

My take on a fairy tale of type 306: The twelve dancing princesses / The shoes that were danced to pieces (but what if there was only one of them, and what if she was queer). [Also on AO3.]

Once upon a time there was a king who had only one daughter and a plumper, pleasanter, prettier maiden had never been seen wearing a crown. She was the apple of her father’s eye and so anxious he was for her health and well-being that her bed was hung with curtains of the thickest velvet and that every night after she had gone to bed, the doors and windows to her room were all locked and barred. All so that she may sleep soundly and undisturbed.

Of all the princess’s many talents, her beautiful singing delighted the court most of all. No one knew of a sweeter voice than that of their princess when she let her voice ring out merrily in the great hall. So it was a great sadness indeed when it came to pass that one day, after the princess had finally got out of bed to a very late breakfast, it was discovered that she could not sing a single note. Indeed she was so hoarse and tired that she could barely speak, and when she did speak she was yawning all the while, as if she had not slept a wink.

In time, with lazing about in the garden and resting in the parlour she was no longer so sleepy, but her poor voice did not recover until it was time to retire to bed. And the next morning it was the same thing all over again!

So it went for weeks and weeks. The princess never sang anymore, though she smiled often enough. And while she went early to bed and was late to rise, she was forever trying to hide her yawns behind her fan.

The king was worried sick and the whole court lamented, for no one could understand what strange kind of illness had come over their princess.

At last the king could take it no longer and he proclaimed to all the kingdom that whoever could find out how to cure his daughter would be given their weight in gold and then some. Many came, many boasted, many sat at the princess’s bedroom door and tried to find out what ailed her. But none of them could stay awake to watch her. Whatever remedy they suggested, it was all for naught, and the king had them sent away in disgrace.

Now it happened that not very far from the castle lived a young couple with two small children and one more on the way, who often saw the king and the princess ride by in their carriage. And they said to one another that while the princess did not look at all sickly, it was a bad thing to have such a mystery hanging about her. And besides, they would very much like to receive such a kingly sum of gold.

So the following day the young father kissed his wife and children and went to the castle to tell the king that he would like to try his luck at finding out what afflicted the princess. The king agreed and after the princess had withdrawn for the night, the young father was brought to a small antechamber to the princess’s bedroom, after which all the doors and windows were locked. Only the door between the antechamber and the bedroom was left open, so that he might watch over the princess during the night.

The princess very politely wished him goodnight from behind the heavy velvet curtains round her bed. But a few moments later she began a lilting lullaby, as if to sing herself to sleep. The young father lay listening and he did not wonder at everyone who came before him not being able to stay awake. He almost fell asleep himself, but with every lilting trill of her voice he started awake again and looked around wildly for his children, as if he had heard the very beginning of a baby’s cry. He kept quiet though and did not stir, and after a long while the chamber grew silent. After a longer while still, he heard a rustling of bedding in the princess’s bedroom, and when he slyly opened one eye to see what he should see, the princess was quietly getting out of her bed.

She tiptoed across the floor and quietly took out her loveliest clothes and finest jewels and prettiest ornaments and primped and preened until she was a vision of beauty. Then she took hold of the heavy bed curtains, drew them shut, then drew them back once more, and as she pulled them aside there was a stairwell leading down where a moment before her bed had been. With one last glance over her shoulder she gaily lifted up her skirts and ran down the steps into the dark.

The young father was so surprised she had gotten quite a head start on him before he was able to follow her and he did not dare to hurry, for fear of making any noise. So he followed the princess at a distance, climbing all the way down until the stone steps became hard earth and lights began to shimmer in the distance.

The princess hurried on and the young father followed, until they came to a winding path that led into a beautiful grove. All the trees were tall and slender and every single one of them had leaves of shining silver. The princess did not look left or right, but the young father reached out and plucked a silver leaf from one of the trees so that he might be sure he wasn’t dreaming.

The path went on and as they went, the trees around them grew larger and older and all their leaves were glimmering gold. And further still the trees were so many it was no longer possible to stray from the path, and all their leaves were of dazzling diamond. The young father plucked a golden and a diamond leaf too and hid them in his pocket.

At the very heart of that strange forest, old, deep-rooted trees twisted all about, bowing low and spreading their branches to form a shady bower. In its entrance stood a lady of unearthly beauty, proud and tall, with a smile that was as eager as it was sharp and eyes that were as endless as they were wild. She held out her arms, laughing like the wind does, and the princess ran to her.

The lady caught her up in her arms and whisked her off her feet. She carried her into the bower, as the branches closed rustling around them, to a bed spread with shimmering silk. And there the princess sang like a bird, all night long.

Just before dawning, the princess emerged from her hiding place and hurried back along the forest path. She was not so fast as she had been before and often the young father had to halt his step for fear of catching up with her. But at last they were climbing the stone steps back into the royal palace and the princess was so worn out and sleepy that she did not notice him slipping out behind her.

She drew the curtains and threw them back again, restoring her bed to its rightful place. Then she took off all her finery, hid everything neatly away, and collapsed into bed to sleep like a rose.

Now the astonished young father did not sleep a wink. For a while he thought he had dreamed the whole thing, but there in his pocket were the three shimmering leaves, as real as the nose on his face. So he lay there in silence, frowning like anything, wondering what to do. Imagine what might happen if the princess did not make it home before dawn one night? They could not loose their only princess to the fairies, that would never do. But what should be done about it?

So he lay thinking, as long as the princess lay sleeping. And when she finally rose, near the end of the morning, she was just as drowsy and heavy-eyed, exactly as hoarse and voiceless as she had been the day before. The courtiers lamented, but the young father had risen with a smile and immediately asked to speak to the king in private, to discuss what ailed his daughter.

“Your Majesty,” he said solemnly, “your noble daughter is lonesome. She weeps in her sleep and this wears out her sweet voice so by night that she cannot sing by day. If you will take my advice, my liege, you must call to your castle every young woman who is of age and unmarried and willing to leave home, and let your daughter pick from among them whomever she likes best to be her companions and confidantes. Do this and all will be well, I am sure.”

It was done exactly as the young father recommended and to the entire court’s joy and astonishment, it went precisely as he had predicted. From then on the princess appeared at breakfast bright and early, almost every morning, surrounded by her new companions and in high enough spirits to sing all day long.

The king did not know how to praise the young father highly enough. He gave him trice his weight in gold and then some extra because his daughter begged him to, and the young father returned home to his wife and children with as much fanfare as any knight of noble blood.

His wife kissed him and his children hugged him and they were merry all day long. And when the children had been put to bed and his wife had put her feet up, he told her all about what had happened at the palace. Then they both laughed and blushed and laughed again until they were quite out of breath. The three peculiar leaves they hid away for another day, for you never knew. And from that day on they lived comfortably and happily and drank to the health of their princess at every breakfast.

[beautyconsumer]

Prompt: "Fairest of All"

"Fairest of All."

Relationships: Jason Todd/Grant Wilson

Fandoms: Batman, Batfam, Under the Red Hood, Deathstroke

Content: fantasy

Grant thought it was simple enough, go through the dangers of that gothic abandoned forest of concrete, adventure into the haunted manor, defeat the dragon that protected it, rescue the prince, marry him. Live happily ever after.

Simple enough. Easy enough.

Nobody told him the dragon was going to be as gorgeous as the majestic creature he's staring at.

A humanoid figure stood at the top of the mansion's stairs.

It stood proud with his chin raised up, Grant could feel those bright teal eyes bore into him, they looked like the magical pools he's seen on the farthest corners of the planet.

He's being laid bare by them.

Bright flames lightened the candles corridors on the place.

Scales deep scarlet red, maroon and brown covered most of the man's skin.

Wide back, strong shoulders. Powerful claws.

Grant didn't feel like raising his silvery sword at the beast's throat. Not exactly out of caution.

Words said the prince —deep in slumber— was the fairest of them all. A diamond for him to have.

Grant was second guessing himself now.

[thebest-medicine]

#66 ‘don’t tell me you’re ticklish?!’ with inuyasha and kagome please and thanks!

Prompt 66 - “Don’t tell me you’re ticklish?!”

A/N: I love inuyasha!!! It has such a soft space in my heart - it was my first really obsessive anime and manga in middle school, oh man. I’m actually rereading the manga right now, bout 2/5 of the way through, I’ll have to write some more of them!

…

This was the third time Kagome tried to help check Inuyasha’s foot for further burns from their last encounter — a fire-breathing demon seeking out the power of the jewel shards they carried. He jerked his foot away, again, mere moments after she had taken his ankle in her hand.

“Inuyasha! I’m just trying to make sure you’re okay!”

“Are you joking? That thing was a pesky bug at best. And I squashed ‘em like one. Couldn’t hurt me.” Inuyasha huffed, pulling his legs in to sit criss-cross.

“Let me just see your other foot real quick!” She tried to grab onto his leg, craning her neck to make sure he was fine. She grasped for his ankle and ended up brushing against his toes as he shifted away.

“Hey! Would you cut that out?! Feels weird.” Inuyasha complained.

Kagome stared between his foot and her hand, then back up at his face. “Wait. Don’t tell me you’re ticklish?!” She said, mouth agape.

Inuyasha bristled, his cheeks turning pink. “What?? Of course I’m not! Why would you think that?!”

Kagome grinned at him. “You are, aren’t you?! Come here! Let me try!”

“What?! No!” Inuyasha scoffed. “Get the hell away from me! You’re crazy!”

Kagome got up off of the ground and Inuyasha bounded up and away with a start. “Inuyasha!”

“Kagome! Go away!” Inuyasha shouted, rushing away from her.

She laughed as she chased after him, a playful smile on her lips. Eventually, some time, she would try it out.

…

[more sentence starter fic prompts]

[other sentence starter fics]

[read this & further inuyasha drabbles on ao3]

[undreaming-fanfiction]

Play It Out (2)

Part 1

Eddie turned around and immediately let out a sound like a leaking party balloon when the corset dug into his sides. "Yeaaaah...that's not ideal."

Steve scoffed and ran his hand through his impressive mane. His...really, really impressive mane. Eddie thought he would have previously noticed if Steve's hair was this big, but apparently he hadn't. Or there was something very different...very wrong. Steve hasn't noticed yet. "You think? I can't believe that we survived another dimension, mind battling shit, monsters with no faces and a giant fucking smoke spider, and then we get what, sucked into a haunted VHS for kids?" He sighed deeply and shook his head. "Can it get any worse?"

"Um..." Eddie gave a nervous chuckle, staring above Steve's eyes, where the head shaking revealed...something. "I think it just has." Reaching out, he removed Steve's hands from that incredibly fluffy hair and ran his own fingers through it, seeking with his fingertips until... "Yeah, so...um. Were you by any chance hiding horns in that Hawkins-famous hairdo or are these new?"

The look of horror on Steve's face was priceless. "Oh you've got to be kidding me." Steve rushed to the nearest window to examine his reflection. And sure enough, a pair of impressive horns was peeking from the rich brown waves, not large enough to be visible all the way but enough to make him look like a... "Hey Eddie? Did you see what fairy tales were on that tape?"

Eddie, crumpled in his yellow gold dress on the ground and currently battling with the high heels that were firmly secured around his ankles, shook his head. "Nah, man. Not that I'd be able to tell. My old man wasn't exactly the 'bedtime story' type. But since I'm wearing the worst clothes in the history of humankind and some supernatural asshole twisted my hair into a bun, I'd say I'm a princess." He shook his head, valiantly tugging on the sparkly shoe. "The stuff I never thought I'd say."

"Great. Because surprise, my parents weren't big on fairy tales either. So we're going in blind again, how do you even survive in this...whatever this is, if we don't know what story it is?" Steve finally abandoned touching his horns and unsuccessfully tried to comb his hair over them. It only made them stand out more and if Eddie wasn't engaged in a battle of his life with an ankle strap, he would have laughed. He finally managed to tug both of his shoes off and flung them to the distance, bending at the waist to stand up, when he winced in pain.

"I think I broke a bone," wheezed Eddie and clutched his side. The smooth fabric of the corset was cool under his fingers and he frowned in disgust. Why the fuck was he the one in yellow when the color made him look like a scrawny canary? Meanwhile Steve was made for this bright yellow shiny monstrosity.

"What..." Steve looked horrified and immediately supported him, gently touching his abdomen, feeling a strange lump. "Shit, Eddie, that's bad, does it hurt?"

Eddie bit his lip, nodding. "Like a motherfucker," he muttered and pointed towards his back. "Can you get rid of this crap? Untie the corset? Like, five minutes ago?"

"Oh. Yeah, sure." His fingers quickly worked the corset open and gently tugged it loose, along with the upper part of the dress.

"Thank fuck." Eddie tore the offending piece of clothing from his chest, glaring daggers at it. It took him a while to notice that Steve was staring at his bare chest, concerned and...maybe a little flustered? Eddie would have liked to think so, but now he was too busy taking deep breaths. Small waists were overrated. "See anything you like, Harrington?"

Steve blinked, eyes still glued to Eddie's body. "What? Oh, no- well yes, but...sorry, what were you..." He took a step closer and gently laid his fingers onto Eddie's rib cage. "Where's that broken bone?"

"Uh...here?" Eddie waved the untied corset in Steve's face and, realizing the misunderstanding, laughed out loud. "Don't look at me like that, it was serious. Have you ever had a piece of plastic break and stab you right in your insides? Cheap clothes for a cheap fairy tale, I tell you!"

Steve visibly relaxed but he still punched his shoulder before adopting the oh so familiar angry mother stance. "Seriously, Munson, couldn't you have been a bit more specific? Just a little bit? Never scare me like that again, you hear me, I was this close to carrying you-"

His tirade was cut short by Eddie leaning into him and pressing his palm over Steve's mouth. They stood face to face, Eddie still with his hair tied back and only in the frilly white pantalettes since he managed to slip out of the skirt too. And maybe it would have been awkward, but Eddie's dark eyes were open wide as he leaned next to Steve's ear and whispered: "So, I don't want to freak you out even more, but I'm quiiite convinced a teacup just walked through the door."

Steve rolled his eyes and, when Eddie's hand didn't move, actually licked his palm. "Don't be ridiculous. It probably just rolled off a table or something," he said as Eddie nearly shrieked and proceeded to wipe his hand on the white fabric. "Maybe you haven't heard, but teacups can't walk-"

He was preparing to say more, to chastise Eddie for his ridiculous ideas. But then the door opened again and so did Steve's mouth, hanging open in comical surprise as a round teapot wobbled inside the door, rattling and calling in a high voice: "Dusty! Dusty, where did you go?"

Eddie crossed his arms and scoffed. "Yeah, Steve. Continue, I'm all ears about stuff that," he formed quotation marks in the air, "isn't possible."

Tag list: @f1ct1onwh0re @gregre369 @estrellami-1 @awkwardgravity1, @stevesworldxx, @swimmingbirdrunningrock, @eboyawstenn, @theseaofdespair @mightbeasleep

[hopialikeart17]

Look I know I haven't been in tumblr in a very long while... but I want to introduce a concept due to ace attorney brainrot.

An ace attorney inspired story where it's mostly fairytale, mythology, and literature based, and the main character is a lawyer inspired by Alice from Alice in Wonderland. All the cases have a basis on their respective source material, whether it's the more popular one or the 'original' version.

[thevoyageurmoteplass-writing]

‘Help,’ Faron whispered, stumbling into the kitchen.

He was barely aware of the noise of the others, the clattering of pans and general controlled chaos that was the dinner rush. That was until the scream. Until the too heavy silence that followed it. All he could focus on was Arielle, cradled delicately against his chest. She’d never seemed so tiny, so fragile.

Chef cursed darkly, forcing himself through the crowd of hushed questions. Calloused fingers roughly gripped Faron’s jaw and forced his gaze away from the injuries littering Arielle’s face. Bruises and blood that should never have been there.

Even in his haze, Faron recognised the barely controlled rage in Chef’s eyes.

‘It wasn’t me,’ Faron said roughly, desperately.

‘I know, dolt,’ Chef said, a rare softness in his voice; the tone barely registered though.

‘She needs help,’ he murmured, eyes drifting back to his best friend’s form. She was still breathing, but the gentle rise and fall of her chest did nothing to make him feel any better.

Chef squeezed his jaw painfully, forcing Faron to look at him once more.

‘Sir Alby is on his way,’ Chef informed him. ‘You did the right thing.’

‘It wasn’t enough,’ Faron admitted, heart clenching in his chest. Breathing was getting difficult, and absently he knew it was partly exhaustion. Arielle may not have been a burden to carry, but terror had taken all his energy. The fear of losing the most important person in his life.

‘Where are they?’ Sir Alby’s authoritative bark cut through everything else. For a moment, Faron wanted nothing more than to disappear. To wake up from the nightmare rather than see the accusation behind the young knight’s eyes.

Sir Alby came up short as Chef stepped aside. His expression a picture of fear more than anything else.

‘Who did this?’ Sir Alby asked, taking a tentative step forwards.

‘That don’t matter,’ Chef said, his own authority at odds with the power balance. ‘Get them both better first.’

‘I’m not –’ Faron’s voice caught in his throat as Sir Alby nodded briefly.

‘I can take her from here,’ Sir Alby offered kindly, arms tentatively outstretched. ‘You did well, Faron.’

‘Not enough,’ Faron whispered, instinctively, protectively, tightening his grip on Arielle; holding her closer to his chest.

Sir Alby held his hands up peaceably, took a small step backwards. ‘More than enough,’ he insisted, before turning ever so slightly. ‘Let’s get both of you to the infirmary.’

Faron loosed a tense breath and nodded dazedly. He wanted to remind the knight he didn’t need to go, that Arielle was more important, but he didn’t have it in him. So he simply followed the knight out of the kitchen, desperately hoping the princess in his arms would fight like she always did. That for once he’d done enough to save her when she couldn’t do it herself.

[shesadollette]

𓍊𓋼𓍊 Total chapters: 4

𖡼𖤣𖥧 Taglist: @raiha-storm65557, @linsyfelisyya

Ⱄⱄ. 𓆏 .ⱄⰔ

II: The Curious Events

(➳ Chapter the First)

It then unfolded from there on. The peacock instructed her to tend to the ones who were going to knock on her gates that afternoon.

The time arrived when the gates were knocked by a few poor children begging for a penny or a grain of rice. For a moment, she thought of getting rid of them when she recalled the promise she had made with the pheasant.

At last with a heavy heart, she ordered her servants to cook simple yet satiating meals for their stomachs and also gave them several small bags of pennies that might suffice for the whole family.

‘They were just simple meals accompanied by several bags of pennies. It was nothing worth of importance,’ she reassured herself when she saw the tears of joy streaming down the children’s sooty cheeks; their innocent, wide grins; and their little voices as they thanked her over and over again.

An odd, warm, and fuzzy feeling suddenly began forming inside of her heart for the very first in a very long time. She dismissed it of course, calling it the euphoria of doing something quite opposing to her usual self.

By the evening, she strangely felt ridiculously hungry and shuffled to the pantry to grab something to fill her aching stomach. Upon entering the dining room, she was beyond aghast that her dining table was flooded with a grand banquet. Spices and other thick fragrances filled the room, silver plates and platters decorated the table with all of her favorite delicacies forming a pageantry. It had been a while since she had been cooked meals as such.

However, the kitchen was eerily silent as her servants were nowhere to be found; during dinner the heiress would always eat her fill and the leftovers would be given to her servants and only then they’d clean up the dishes. They’d always be away from the dining area around 6 o’clock to prepare for bed meaning that somebody or something must have cooked her all these unbeknownst to her and the servants. The peacock was nowhere to be found too, much less its trail of feathers. She found it incredibly strange and was undoubtedly dubious at first, but the rumbling of her stomach said otherwise and she began digging in.

Days passed and the peacock instructed her with yet another request: she was to donate and sell some of her belongings to the ones in need.

Of course she wanted to protest, she felt as if those belongings had been her lifelong property in the mansion; generations of family heirlooms being passed down from countless of wealthy figures before finally being inherited to her.

Yet again, she recalled the promise with the pheasant. She wanted pure happiness more than anything in the world. More than the temporary one those treasures brought her.

So she searched her vanity, her cupboard, and her chambers. Scattered piles of old boxes and chests being brought out and opened. High and low she and her servants searched every nook and cranny for old and unused jewelry, garments, and even considered selling her personal collection of perfumes and cosmetics that still have a potential value to be sold to the market or donated to others in need.

She then wrote to her distant relatives that she would be needing help in distributing some of the belongings to the local marketplace and charities: ‘The belongings I’ve given away ought to be enough to make a struggling family manage through. Nothing more, nothing less,’ she again reassured herself as she wrote word after word in the letters to her relatives.

Then came the day when she ordered some of her servants to send those letters, again that same feeling of euphoria overcame her and she dismissed it strongly and thoroughly.

In the evening, as she entered her chambers stretching and yawning widely about to lie down her eyes were blinded by the mountain of gold, jewelries, and other whatnots taking up half of the room.

She was stunned, however this time, she was certain there had been someone or something doing all of this for her. Before she could go through all of the possibilities, fatigue had conquered her mind and she flopped onto the bed and fell into a deep, dreamless slumber.

The next morning, she immediately rushed to the garden after getting dressed and having breakfast, determined to confront her servants and unwillingly, her little pet bird about the strange events. As silly as it may sound, she hoped that it at least knew about who or whatever might have been the cause…

➳ Chapter the Third

[scottxlogan]

Logan and Fairy Tale <3

Ask and you shall receive :) (BTW thanks for the prompt!!!!)

Living in deep isolation at the far end of the dark enchanted forest, Logan had come to accept that love was never part of his life as Logan was unlike the other townspeople in the kingdom. In his travels, he’d been feared and despised, a pariah among his peers as the whispers spoke of the horrors that he’d inflicted on those foolish enough to brave into his forest and chase the darkness beyond the safety of their kingdom. For decades Logan lived his life alone, settled in his ways until one fateful winter day a beautiful blind boy with pale skin, hardened lines in his face and soft, dark hair emerged from the gnarled path with a basket of baked goods in his hands and a smile on his face, ever determined to find his way to reason with the man the others had deemed dangerous. Unlike the others, the boy was beautiful and brave going against the whispers of the kingdom to find his way into Logan’s life, becoming a part of Logan’s heart and home in bringing with his arrival a love unlike any Logan had ever known. Winter turned into spring, spring into fall and by summertime Logan had discovered that a life of loneliness was no longer a part of who he was as Scott Summers’ arrival of had brought with him the promise of happily ever after to a once broken man who now believed in miracles.

[sereia1313]

Rose Clippings

The daily drabbles continue! Couldn't wait to dip my hands into a fairytale AU, and this one is going to be amazing!

Ready it on Ao3, Dokuga, and FFnet.

Summary: Kagome and Kagura live with their mother in a woodland cottage, free from the grime of the large city, so when a knock is heard at their door in the dead of winter, they can't imagine who it could be. Or how their visitor will change their lives forever.

Sneak Peek

Snarls could be heard throughout the night, Emiko holding her two daughters close as they shuddered in fear.

"What is it, Mama?" Kagome asked, sneaking a glance toward the snow-covered window. "It sounds angry."

"I'm not sure, my sweet. But don't worry, we're safe in here." She ran her fingers through Kagome's hair.

"I'll protect you," Kagura said, holding a stick towards the door even as her hand trembled. Adoration shone in Kagome's eyes, but she immediately wrapped her arms around her sister.

"You're not going outside," she said, hugging her tightly. Kagura opened her mouth to protest, but Kagome shook her head. "It's too dangerous."

"But I know all the animals in the forest!" she said, still brandishing her stick.

Emiko pulled them closer. "If the creature is hurt, you can help them tomorrow. But for now—" She trailed off as a blustery wind shook the cottage, the girls yelping and burying their faces against their mother.

The storm has come out of nowhere, covering the forest in eerie silence much earlier than they were used to. Emiko had heard rumours of war circulating through the merchants in town, but they had confidence in their queen, along with the crown prince, so she'd paid it no mind, once again thankful that their home was so far removed.

The girls lay down, hands clutching their mother's dress, but Kagome glanced out the window again, idly rubbing her chest.

"What's wrong?" Kagura asked.

Kagome frowned, shifting uncomfortably. "My chest hurts. Like someone's in trouble." Her sister grabbed her stick, but Emiko plucked it out of her fingers.

"Tomorrow," she said firmly.

[clarafell]

⭐️ talk to me about homura and sora i need to plot these two like i need air

HEADCANON MEME FOR OUR MUSES :  Accepting!!!

@madeimpact

Sora traveling across worlds lands him in right in Japan. Don't ask how, but Sora ends up getting lost. Surprisingly, he doesn't get that many weird looks with his weapon because some of fashionistas on the street are totally rocking his look. His key-shaped weapon looks like a cool handmade prop, so it works in his favor. Sora notices a couple of people with weird marks on their body acting a bit suspicious, so he decides to try to stop them before harm could happen to anyone. He ends up in wandering into labyrinth belonging to a rather relentless witch.

No stranger to fighting, he handles himself pretty well... at first. But trying to worry about the manipulated victims while also fighting the relentless witch without any of assistance proves to be a hard move. He tries an offensive stance since the witch looks rather similar to his enemies, but he realizes that he has more on his plate. He changes his stance to a defensive route, but the victims only want to help the enemy. Stuck, he is running out of options. Sora has plenty of energy to try to reach a stalemate, but the witch has too many forces on their side.

He blinks—

Then a girl appears from out of nowhere.

His silent plea for help has been answered, but he's confused by her abrupt appearance. Where did she come from? Who is she? Where did all these entranced victims go? Are they okay? Will this fragile-looking girl be alright in this weird monster's world—

Oh.

Oh, she is more than alright.

She made quick work of the monster, barely paying him any mind. He tries to call out in order to try to form some kind of support system since he wanted to help too, but... She kept on disappearing. Something good, he noticed, always happened whenever she reappeared. Then the bizarre world dissolves right before his eyes. The monster has disappeared, but it dropped something.

The girl picks the object up before he had a chance to examine it. She clinks it against something purple on her hand. Sora notices that all the people are carefully laid down on the ground, but they are all unconscious. Their marks are all gone, Sora noticed. That means the marks are connected to the monsters. Sora is really confused at this point, but the girl is quietly eyeing him up with a bit of wariness.

She looks like she wants to ask something. Then why isn't she talking? She frowns, almost as if someone else answered one of her questions. She looks down at the victims then back at Sora. Her frown deepens, almost as if she is being given even more disappointing news.

❝  Please... Please don't tell anyone that you saw me. These people will wake up with no memory of what happened. Let them continue their normal lives. Thank you for trying to be their knight in shining armor, but... But stay far away from the witches if you can't successfully defeat them.   ❞

The muttered remark leaves her lips, timidly so.

The voice is meek while her tone is a bit cold, but the words sound sincere to him. She is eyeing up his weapon before slowly looking over his body all over again. Sora suspect that she is looking for the same mark that were on the victims, but he can't read her mind. She takes a step back as soon as Sora takes a step forward. She suddenly appearing more like a scared animal than the experienced fighter that he saw in that odd realm. He tries to get more information by opening his mouth.

He blinks—

Sadly, the girl is gone as fast as she appeared.

While he still wants answers, all he wants in the moment is to thank her for the help.

Sora is still lost, but this will not be the last time he sees her.

[rejectedfables]

once a cat asked his friends for yellow things, and his friends brought him a lemon, a squash, a flower, a coin, a sock, a bird, and a butterfly.

(The bird and butterfly escaped immediately)

the Cat put all the yellow things into a Box and Shook the box. He shook is REALLY HARD, and shook and shook and shook, and then dumped it onto his own head, and became an orange tabby

the cat lived happier and dumber ever after, the end

[laurasimonsdaughter]

“Alright! Let’s just quickly go over your answers to our questionnaire in your application.”

As far as job interviews went, this one was rapidly moving up the list of utterly strange ones. For starters this was the fanciest office he had ever been in, and this was supposed to be an animal sanctuary. The amount of decorative pillows piled onto the chair he was currently trying to sit on would have been more appropriate for a lounge in a posh hotel.

The sanctuary manager – at least that’s how she had introduced herself – peered at the printed sheets of paper.

“So you have experience with animal handling?”

“During several internships, yes.”

“Wonderful. And horticulture?”

“I know how to keep a healthy habitat.”

“Excellent. And do you have any siblings?”

There it was, barely three questions in and already off the deep end. “Yes, three.”

The woman fixed two keen, dark eyes on him. “Three including you?”

“No, three besides me. I’m the second oldest, if that matters.”

“Ah! That’s alright then, Second of four, very good.”

By now he was looking at the manager with unrestrained wonder, eyebrows almost disappearing under his fringe.

“Well that all seems to be in order, just one more question—are you comfortable?”

He faltered, blinking. “I...well, to tell you to truth this chair could do with a few less pillows.”

To his amazement the manager’s face lit up with genuine delight. “Oh that is very good to hear. I do apologise for all that nonsense, but there’s rules against asking people about the circumstances of their birth, you know. Here, let me.”

He got to his feet, still rather stunned, and watched how the manager removed three pillows and, from underneath them all, a small green pea from his chair.

“There we are! Now, we’d be very glad to have you, you certainly meet all our qualifications, and I assure you we offer excellent terms and benefits. You clearly have plenty of experience with amphibians and birds, but you will need some on the job training, because apart from the usual frogs, swans and ravens, we also have clients in some of the rarer categories.”

“Clients? I thought this was an animal sanctuary,” he stammered.

“It most certainly is! Except our residents have not always been animals.” The manager smiled meaningfully. “You’d be surprised just how many people, especially royals, decide they would rather stay enchanted.” She looked a little embarrassed for a moment. “Which is of course exactly why I need to take certain precautions with my employees, you understand.”

He was pretty sure he did not at all understand, but he wasn’t about to admit that now. “Right.”

She peered at him again. “I do still need you to promise me not to fall in love with any of them.”

“Why on earth—”

“It’s happened before,” she said gravely. “We also have a couple of private parks, with a more human enclosure, I mean house, because we do get the occasional beastification.” She shook her head. “The last person we hired, well, our client was kind enough not to file an official complaint, on account of the whole finding his true love thing, but it was really very embarrassing.” He sat very still for a moment. “So, how many of those are there?”

“Beasts? Only two at the moment, since that unfortunate incident.”

“And your other...residents?”

“Hmm lets see, seven swans and seven ravens, three frogs, a stag, a hind, a fox and a bear. Well, and the cat, but she’s an exception, she lives in our head quarters and mostly looks after herself.” She gave him a rather worried look. “I haven’t scared you off, have I?”

He gave her a weak smile. “You promised me five weeks paid time off, so no you haven’t. But I am going to need some more information.”

“Wonderful,” she sighed. “In that case, let’s start with giving you a tour.”

[callmemana]

Unhappily Ever After: Why Couldn't Time be on Our Side!

This is a collaboration with the amazing and talented @crazyk-imagine ! Thank you so much for partnering up with me! It's a fairy tale au for the 86’ Naval Aviator squad! I hope you enjoy the stories!

A/N: the HEA's are going to be mostly the same story line as the Disney movies, UEA are going to be darker and more towards the Grimm fairy tales/stories.

The chains that held her from the man cut into her wrist again and again as she jerks to save him.

“I’ll stop fighting if you let me save him!”

“Rapunzel no!” He shouts, voice losing its power by the minute.

“Please! Please!”

Mother Gothel looks at her, then at the man and smirks.

“He’s already gone, let’s go.”

“No, I will fight you until the day I die! Please, just let me heal him and I’m yours!”

Mother Gothel let’s the chains loose just enough for her to reach him, but she was right.

He lost too much blood too fast. Rick was gone.

[brightwitchbrews]

A Star Named Kindness

A star named Kindness watched over the Earth. Fire and ash spun into land into ocean into creatures that roamed. Kindness lit the morning to show them their way. Kindness kept watch over her garden far away, beaming with pride as life learned to walk.

It tottered and teetered, falling to the brink and sometimes all the way back to ash. Yet life, ever persistent, crawled up from the earth and the seas, clinging to trees and the underside of the sky. A kaleidoscope of beings twirled the planet in a brutal, beautiful dance.

A new creature emerged and hauled itself upright. They worshipped the stars, aligning their footsteps to the wisdom of constellations. Kindness shone all the brighter to keep them on course.

But this creature began to make its own light. They installed false stars made of copper and crystal. Their footsteps traced confused circles across the earth as they sneered at the night sky, obscured by the halos of technology and hubris.

Kindness watched as, drowned within light, the creatures’ hearts darkened. The light was too close and too bright. The creatures forgot how far they could see. Kindness shone as bright as she could, but no one was watching.

The creatures grew empty as Kindness despaired. They made their lights brighter and clutched them more closely, serving only to make the shadows within ever more stark.

Weary at last, one creature extinguished her lights and turned to the sky. With a measure of darkness and a measure of distance, her heart caught the fire of a sky filled with starlight.

From the inky cradle of a night winking with purpose, one curious flame caught the creature’s eye. Her footsteps traced rhythms of cosmic design and by the light of a star named Kindness, found her way home.

——

Sign up to my email list for more tiny teatime tales. Perfect for a cosy read over a cup of tea! ✨

💌 brightwitch.com/tea-tales

[nofrigatelikefanfiction]

February 1938

"Come on, Steve !", Bucky encouraged.

"I don't feel like going out", grumbled Steve, who was sketching, spread out on their bed.

Bucky had guessed his reply. It had been like that since his Ma had passed away, a bit more than a year ago. It couldn't go on like this.

"I've already bought the cinema tickets. Everybody says it's great !"

"It's about dwarves", Steve protested.

"It's a fairy tale ! It's about a princess, a prince, an evil queen... The first long animated feature film ! An hour twenty of ART, Steve. In Technicolour !"

"You do realize I'm colourblind, don't you ?"

Bucky sighed and sat on the bed, facing him. He put his hands on the page Steve was sketching on, hiding his work.

"Hey !"

"Just admit it, Steve", Bucky said teasingly. "You don't want to go because you know their art is better than yours and you're afraid to see how much".

"That's not true !" Steve exclaimed, scandalised. "My own art is perfectly fine, and I'm afraid of nothing."

"Then come with me ? Please ?"

Bucky pouted. Steve stared at his lips. "I would be real disappointed if you didn't come with me. Please ? For me ?"

He could see Steve's resolve was starting to shatter.

"Fine", he relented. "If you care so much, I'll go with you".

"Aw thanks Steve, you're a real pal", Bucky smiled, and he kissed him on the cheek before he could overthink it and chicken out.

He quickly got up from the bed, and strided for the door.

"I've got to dash, Irv from work invited me for a drink, but I'll be back in a couple hours and we'll go to the cinema together. Wear something nice ! I'm not taking you out in your pajamas. And have a wash ! Look smart."

Steve threw a pillow at him. Bucky ducked and the pillow landed in the kitchen.

"You missed me !", Bucky gloated.

He picked up the pillow and threw it at Steve. It hit him right in the face, and fell in his lap.

"Jerk !"

"See you in a couple hours ! Byyyye !"

-----------------------------------

Steve had been enthralled by the movie, and had loved all the songs. Bucky knew that, because while Steve's eyes had never left the screen, he had spent a lot of time looking at him. They slowly left the theater, and walked home. The cold night air was tinting Steve's cheeks with a pretty pink.

"You were right", admitted Steve. "It's a really good movie. It must have taken so much work from the artists ! And the songs were so nice ! The music was great, too, from what I could hear."

"Are you glad you came, then ?" Bucky asked softly.

"Yeah ! It was a good time. Thank you for insisting I come out with you. You could have gone with someone else. I'm not much fun these days."

Bucky slowed his pace, and looked Steve in the eyes.

"I don't care. You're my friend. I got the second ticket for you."

"Oh."

Steve looked down. If his cheeks hadn't already been flushed from the cold, maybe he would have blushed.

"Thank you", repeated Steve. He looked up and smiled at Bucky, who felt his insides melting.

He grinned. He clapped Steve's shoulder and grabbed him by the neck to incite him to start walking again.

"You're welcome, pal", he replied, and started humming "One day, my prince will come", thinking of the movie once more.

Steve smiled.

"I like it when you sing. You could be in one of those Disney movies, you know. Hollywood would love you. You've certainly got the looks for the industry. You could play the prince in the movie adaptation."

"Aw thanks Stevie. But I couldn't leave you behind ! If I'm gonna be rich, I'd want you to become rich with me !"

Steve grimaced.

"Yeah, I'm not sure I'd like that. I'm not made to be in the starlight, with cameras pointed at me. Plus they'd have me play Sneezy, obviously, and I wouldn't want to play that part."

Bucky stopped humming.

"You are not Sneezy !"

"What, am I Grumpy ?"

"Most of the time, yes, but that's not the point."

"Who am I, then ?"

Bucky's lips stretched into an insolent smile.

"Snow White", he swaggered.

Steve looked insulted.

"I know I'm short and skinny, but I'm not a girl ! And my hair is blonde !"

"I'm just teasing ya. You're not Snow White, obviously", he lied through his teeth. "She makes great apple pies, and you and I both know you can't cook for shit".

The last time Steve had tried to cook for them both, he had almost set fire to their tenement. Bucky had decided that food being rare and expensive enough, he was going to be the one in charge of the cooking. Steve would be restricted to washing the dishes. It was better that way. Bucky was rather good at cooking, he had often helped his mom in the kitchen; and he loved cooking for Steve. It made their flat feel more like a home. It made him feel like they were family; like they were a couple. Even though they were not.

"Alright, you have a point. But who am I, then ?" he pestered his tall friend.

"Ah, I won't tell you. You have to guess !"

Steve snorted.

"You're full of shit".

"Mayyyyybe", Bucky conceded, and he smiled again.

Later in bed, as Steve was slightly snoring, he thought of all the times he had seen him pale and cold just like Snow White had been at the end of the movie. How his best friend and the man he loved had so often been on the brink of death, and how he wished he were indeed a prince who could carry him to a castle, where they could be comfortable, eat plenty and sleep in fancy sheets. They would be happy, healthy and warm.

He turned around, and fell asleep. He didn't know his life's story was going to get further away from a fairy tale than man could ever imagine. He didn't know he was going to be the one who was going to be spending decades in a glass coffin. For now, he was just sleeping, safe and sound. He dreamt of kissing Steve, and of living with him happily ever after.