#like little me LOVED forests and she loved fairytales and witches and fantasy

[giverofempathy]

oohhhh i am experiencing so many little joys. feeling like im holding my life in my hands and looking down at it with tears in my eyes. everything is so beautiful

[valeriianz]

Would you ever write a.....Fairytale adventure type AU (ﾉ*･ω･)ﾉ? (idk how to explain it ajbdkjvakdv)

(Kinda like...maybe Ghibli movie vibes....ABDHBAHCBKAC)

HYPER HUGS

ahhhh always a privilege to see you in my inbox, Mere 😻

(this post gets long, pls bear with me lol)

fairy tail itself, no. im really not into fantasy or fairy tails, sadly (which sucks cos like, that's half of dreamling AUs right there lol).

but ooh i do love some adventure! especially Ghibli-style! i know that's kinda fantastical but i'd be very into it.

my mind immediately went to a Princess Mononoke AU, a film i havent seen in ages, but Hob and Dream in that scene??

Dream: "I'll cut your throat! That'll shut you up!" Hob: "You're beautiful."

or, OR! have you seen that Castle in the Sky AU??

so, in short... yeah, probably haha.

OH SNAP! i just remembered i have a Little Red Riding Hood au that i had been attempting like, in early 2023 after THAT fanart but i could not figure out how to write it, and i got so frustrated with it that i just gave up. below the cut is what i'd written so far, starting with some ramblings to myself before some "proper" writing... i'll never finish it ;_; sorry.

Hob is still a Red Riding Hood/Hunter type character and he is the only one "brave" enough to visit the witch in the woods, aka Johanna when his village requires medicine/care. The whole village is deeply superstitious and so Johanna stays out of the village for her own safety and it's taken a lot of convincing from Hob (who is one of the only capable hunters so he is Important) that she is fine and won't curse the whole village. The only time Johanna forbids Hob from coming to see her is on the night of the full moon.

But then EMERGENCY happens and Hob sets out for Johanna's on a full moon and runs into Dream. Cue fanart scene. Hob fights Dream and somehow manages to hold his own. Maybe they bang here, maybe Dream gets Hob to open up about why he's out during the full moon and then lets him go. Because Hob has zero survival instincts he goes out again on a full moon just to see Dream. Johanna thinks he's an idiot.

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

There is a witch in the woods; the villagers know this and remain wary of her provocation. She is all powerful but she is also a hermit– quiet and bloodless, when ignored. Many elders in the village have spun up stories, history between them and her. Though it seems all unfounded, Hob had never been anything but curious, growing up with these tales of offering sacrificial goats in place of the children they believed her to steal, before moving on to setting up traps on the edge of the woods where their small hamlet lay.

Hob had also heard stories, though not many, of how she’d been run out, that there may be more of her kind hiding in secret within the community. This too, Hob doesn’t allow to bother him. He is surrounded by superstition and pays no mind to any of it.

Which is all to say, he’s encountered the witch on several occasions. 

And whatever tales Hob had grown up hearing of her comes to a screeching halt the day he first met her.

“What the ever loving fuck are you doing out here?”

Snapping up to attention, Hob had regarded the woman. He’d been a boy of 15 the first time they’d met, and had the notion of fright abandon him by watching his mother die in childbirth to what was supposed to be his little brother, as well as his father being robbed and beaten to death by bandits while he cowed away behind a tree. 

Hob would never be that cowardly again. And he made up for it by going out into the woods nearly every night, despite the warnings from his neighbors. His friends would egg him on but then chicken out the closer they got to the edge of the clearing, lined by dense forest and rustling leaves.

[mayullla]

Title: Sleeping Castle

[ - Cottage (Fem!reader) + Roses (Yandere) + Diluc (Genshin Impact) + Black coffee (Sleeping Beauty au) - ] - Anon's Ask

Summary: You woke up but true love's first kiss but other than you none of your family woke up. Diluc was a kind man taking you in a helping you save your family.

Additional warnings/tags: fantasy au, manipulation, background character deaths, obsessive / dark themes, slightly ooc Diluc

[ - Fairytale Picnic Event - closed - ]

"You should be thankful, Diluc. Do you know how much of a burden it is to cast such a spell dear? I worried for my skin." Diluc tune Lisa's teasing voice as he turned away from her. He had finished what he was supposed to do here and now he planned to leave. "I will have Adeline send the finest wine to the wicked fairy's hut soon."

"My, you say such hurtful words dear." Lisa sighed placing a hand on her face as if she was hurt by his mean comment. Yet there was a sly smile on her face that could not be contained by the acting. "You are always welcome Diluc. Ahhh a nice glass of your company's finest wine will just do the trick to help me relax a bit."

Leaving the witch's hut Diluc left to go and return to his home. A few hours away by a horse he was prepared for the long journey. Relief in his heart that everything was over and done. Every small detail and such were tied together and meticulously checked.

He also got something he had become rather fond of, even if how he got them was rather... unorthodox.

"You should be careful Diluc. If you get caught it is all over for you." Lisa's warning echoed in his mind, the cold wind hit his face as his horse galloped back. "She would never love you anymore. She will only spiral into an obsession of revenge or will become forever lost."

"If that happens come to me and I will wrap up a little something for you. A particular potion that I am rather proud of, you see~"

Witches were in a way considered fairies. They were rare beings who could use magic and brew potions a few living here on this continent. They were respected creatures... mostly while some were feared more so than others. Lisa was particularly known to be the smartest if not strongest fay yet she choose to hide in a small hut in the middle of a deep forest. Many fear her and when the winds blew people can hear screams from the forest rumors spread.

When it was just the trees making that sound.

Diluc just so happened to make a deal with her. Foolish people so caught up with what they hear to scared to even take a step into the forest... he knew Lisa much longer than that.

There was a group Diluc was after, a certain group he wanted to take revenge on for years now. He followed their every move, finding anything and everything about them. And one of them was that they were teaming up with a certain kingdom near his home.

He preferred a more hands on approach than letting others do most of the work when he set off to spy over the kingdom with a few others, it was much more convenient for him to see everything that was happening by himself.

Who would have thought that he would meet a fair lady there, a hidden princess of the kingdom born with a curse that was cast on her birthday? The royal family wanted to hide her yet they weren't able to do so in his eyes. Affectionate you were so different from your rotten family.

Now you were in his hands.

"Diluc you are back. I didn't see you this morning and I was wondering where you have gone." Diluc let himself breathe when he saw you running down the steps of the mansion to greet him. His heart beat when he saw what you were wearing, a flowing pale color dress that made you look like a fairy.

"Where did you go?" You asked smiling at him.

Innocent you were at who he truly was and what he could do. He just shrugged "I meet an acquaintance." He didn't elaborate any further but it seems you have become too curious.

"Acquaintance? If I could ask... why did you meet them." The hesitation in your eyes when you knew well that you were overstepping your boundaries. How you played with your fingers tips angsty for his answer.

He knew you were getting impatient. Diluc had the servants watch over you to make sure you won't do anything stupid and to report everything you did to him.

He knew how worried you have become when your family sleeps soundly in the old small castle in your kingdom long dead, put to sleep but Lisa's magic and killed by the sword of knights of the duke Ragnvindr family.

You were supposed to die a daughter of the king who Diluc personally killed himself. How simple it was to stab the old man in the heart as he continued to sleep peacefully as if nothing happened. Diluc wished he could give the man a much more painful death.

When the kingdom joined sides with the group of the abyss. It was an unfortunate thing for them that they had a spy in their miths, who quickly reported the situation to Diluc.

Many thought that it had been the work of an evil fairy or a witch. That they have angered one of the fays and they choose to take revenge over the whole kingdom putting everyone to sleep. While the people and the innocent soon woke up others and the royal family did not.

Well except for you, Lisa played a cruel joke on him telling him that you would only wake up from a kiss of true love. The surprise in your eyes when you woke up in your deep slumber, a pretty flush in your face made Diluc's face flush too.

Many said he was your faithed one, and Diluc chose not to say anything. You stayed close to him, unable to stay in the castle where you once lived due to its dangers. You begged Diluc to help you save your family, you who didn't know what your family did behind closed doors.

He told you that the blame goes to a group of the abyss, that it was because of them your family had to suffer. You had to suffer.

It was for the best. Diluc never wanted to lie to you yet he could not let you know the deep secrets that he holds over you. Most of your family will forever sleep unable to wake up anymore.

"I... I am sorry... for asking. You are working so hard yet here I am constantly asking you if you have found a way." You looked down ashamed of yourself, yet the guilty face of yours look so adorable in Diluc's eyes.

He will keep you safe.

"Did you eat? Would you like to join me for dinner?" Diluc asked you instead, changing the subject. "No, I didn't. I had a bit of snack after lunch." You told him, the atmosphere lightening a little more.

Diluc glanced over to the head maid Adelinde, knowing the lady smiled when bowing her head to welcome him home. The servants here were all rather fond of you.

The peace you give to their duke, naive you were unable to notice how manipulative they were to keep you here. Diluc knew all that was happening and at one point he felt guilt over it. Not anymore.

Taking your arm he guided you to the dining room, the smile on your face warms his heart as he asked you about your day. You don't have a home but now you do right here in his arms. With that Diluc was satisfied.

He will be the one to protect you, even if you push him away he would still hold you in his arms. Even if you scream he would not let you go, even if you try to run away he would bring you back.

Even if you try to kill him he would still give his heart to you.

[outer-space-face]

@koro-is-caffeinated You wanted to know my top 5 villains so you've asked and you shall receive! Here are mine! :)))

5. The beast from Over the Garden Wall.

I LOVE me some fairytale style villains! And the beast is just such a good mix of dark fantasy and grotesque unanswered mystery. Visually and conceptually he's just so goddamn cool and strange and alluring, and I LOVE IT >:)

4. Heather Chandler from the heathers musical

Though this isn't ome of my favorite musicals and I REFUSE to interact with the fandom, I absolutely LOVE how stupidly and overly evil Heather Chandler is. She is the definition of villains who have no reasons to be villains but still are. AND THEY ACKNOWLEDGE THIS IN THE SHOW. She is so overly bitchy and it is the absolute best.

3. Lady Eboshi from Princess Mononoke

Always loved how she's such a well written character who is much more than what we're presented with initially. She genuinely cares about her people but she's put her efforts into creating more violence and theft and war. Her refusal to change and belief that she's better because of that belief is what makes her so villainous. She enjoys reaping the forest and the spirits and that's what makes her deliciously evil. Also her design badass.

2. The witch from Into the Woods (the musical not the movie because it's ew, just go watch the musical on youtube if you're gonna watch it)

The witch is, to put it simply, THAT BITCH. She's another one of those overly campy evil for the sake of being evil type villains except She's got a little bit of an actual reason and an actually great arc throughout. Also a KILLER FUCKING SONG. She's hilarious while also remaining fully developed and feeling like a real person with real experiences. She feels like that campy villain while also not being shallow which is VERY hard to achieve.

1.Hades from Hadestown

Probably the BEST interpretation of hades yet. He's the perfect embodiment of greed and capitalistic manipulation and it makes for such an amazing villain. Not to mention his wardrobe and his voice are so commanding and it makes you as the audience feel powerless which is exactly what you should feel like in his presence! It's so spot on to what he represents. He's also not made shallow AT ALL. His complicated and rocky relationship with persephone makes his later actions so incredibly interesting and fulfilling as a villain. He is so well written it's insane! All of his songs, lyrics, wardrobe, lines, everything about him is so commanding and powerful. IT IS SO GOOD OMG

(Some honorable mentions include yzma and prince achmed from twisted)

Hope ya liked some of these and thanks for askin' ! :)))

[our-magical-world]

My "improved CR" DR

To be honest, I don't even know if I'll end up shifting to this DR. Because at the end of the day, even if it's a better version of my CR and I have a good life there, it's still too similar to this reality, and I think I'll feel more at home in my fantasy world.

But this is the vision I had in my head when I learned about manifesting, before I knew about shifting, before I confirmed that shifting to my fantasy DR was even possible at all. I asked myself: if I can never go back there, if I have to stay here and live with the rules of this reality, what's the closest I can get? What kind of life would make me happy? And this is what I came up with. When I knew about shifting, I considered permashifting to this better CR life. But I'm not sure yet.

First, the most important thing for me was reuniting with my friends and s/o from my fantasy DR. I believe they're my soul family and I won't be complete without them. Just like we exist in every reality (according to the multiverse theory), I've always believed the people in my DR also exist here, in some way. So I'd find them, their "real world version", and they all would have memories of me and our original world, they were manifesting me as much as I've been manifesting them.

In this reality, me and my friends and s/o are master shifters, so we go to our fantasy DR regularly (group shifting) and I can also shift to any DR I want anytime.

We all live together in my dream house, a fairytale-like house surrounded by nature and close to the forest (but close enough to the city to go there taking a walk if needed, and my s/o and another friend have cars anyway just in case). We also have a big cozy library in the attic, with lots of fantasy books and comfy chairs and a table for reading, studying and writing, and a cozy shared studio with big windows looking out at the forest, where we can work on our projects or do our jobs from home. My friend, who is a mage in my fantasy DR and a witch in my CR, has a little garden where she grows herbs. Oh, important: I haven't decided where we live, but it's somewhere up North (can be North of Spain or another country) so I don't have to endure summer in Southern Spain ever again, because it's hell on earth.

I have enough money to live freely without being tied to a job (passive income or something) and can afford traveling often or buying anything I want. I only work on projects I'm passionate about, without worrying about making money with them (but I do anyway because they're always a success). I'm a multi-talented artist, because I can't choose just one thing: I draw and paint, write books and poetry, make fantasy costumes (for cosplay or medieval faires, for myself or as commissions), and work regularly as a voice actress. Sometimes I also work on theatre, especially musicals. I have the kind of life that never gets boring, because I always have new and different projects to motivate myself. And if I don't feel like working, or just want to work on personal projects and make art for myself, I can do it, so I'm never burned out. Besides doing art, I also work out everyday (m s/o loves working out so we often train together) and take long walks in the forest, sing and listen to music often (usually while I work), read books, or just take time to enjoy a cup of tea and relax.

We all have freelance jobs or do something that gives us a lot of freedom (working from home and having our own schedule), so we can travel a lot. We often travel together to magical places, and attend fantasy conventions and medieval faires and concerts of our favorite bands and artists all around the world. We also try to incorporate fantasy in every aspect of our life, anything that reminds us of our original world: our clothes, food, house decor, music... we play tabletop RPGs regularly and attend LARPs as often as possible, and try to make our lives as magical as possible. One of my friends is a musician and I love singing, so we have weekly evenings of singing and playing the guitar and imagining we're staying at the inn, or we camp in the woods and sing around the campfire. Just nostalgic things that remind us of our world.

In this reality I'm very similar to my CR self, just a slightly improved version (scripting out some insecurities and my anxiety, adding some more self-love and confidence). A version of me who is successful and free and loved and surrounded by friends.

Bonus: My style in my better CR

[thescarletwitchsapprentice]

Baby Sister (Platonic!Yandere!Tetyana “Anya” Malinovsky/Platonic!Yandere!Iridescence x autistic!ADHD!fem!reader)

*Not my GIF, I’m using this because I picture her looking a lot like AoU Wanda.

Summary: You wake up to find yourself “surprise adopted” by Tetyana “Anya” Malinovsky as her “baby sister.” 

Author’s Note: So....I kinda wanna see how well Anya’s received here. She is very similar to Wanda Maximoff, personality and appearance-wise, maybe voice as well. She is Ukrainian (because thanks to Wanda, I’ve become more interested in my Ukrainian heritage) and has a twin brother I might write about. She also loves fairytales. As for the Iridescence, she is a very powerful witch, practically witch royalty. She’s called the Iridescence/Iridescent Witch because that’s her magic color and when light is reflected through something iridescent, there’s a lot of color, meaning she can utilize any color of magic she chooses, with practice of course. She is usually benevolent, but as a yandere, her idealism and ideology are twisted a bit. I might write a bit more about her kind of explaining her, at least what I have so far.

vid’ma: a witch.

Your head is throbbing as you come to. What the hell happened to you? The last thing you remember is someone whispering in your ear, a crystal glaze in your vision, and then darkness.

Opening your eyes, it takes a bit for them to adjust. But when they do, the place you find yourself in looks like it came out of a fantasy world. A mural of a magical nighttime forest is painted around the walls and a starry sky on the ceiling, the stars almost seem to actually twinkle. The unicorns and faeries in the forest also seem to move, giving the impression that you’re actually in a magical forest. 

The head of your bed is surrounded by a white canopy decorated with flower petals and butterflies. You feel a light breeze brush against your skin and you hear a soft voice singing a lullaby in a language that you don’t understand.

“H-hello?” you call out.

The singing stops and that’s when you see her. A woman with brown hair tinted with red and soft brown eyes. She wears a light blue dress shirt and a cream colored skirt going to just above her knees. It’s decorated with faeries and flowers. On her feet is a pair of black Mary Janes and dress socks. She gives a soft smile when she sees you.

“You’re awake.” There’s an accent in her voice, something Eastern European. She approaches the bed and sits on the edge. “How are you feeling, baby sister?”

“Umm.....a bit dazed and confused---wait, what did you call me?”

She gives a little giggle.

“Baby sister.”

You blink.

“Um....I’m not your baby sister.”

“Yes you are, at least you are now.”

You begin to feel confused and panicky.

“Who are you?”

“My name is Tetyana, but as my baby sister, you can call me Anya.”

“Were....were you the one who....who knocked me out?”

She sighs.

“I didn’t want to, but I had no choice. This world isn’t safe for you, baby sister...”

She reaches out and pets your head, something you don’t really mind.

“I want to be the one to protect you, and that’s what I intend to do.”

“I can defend myself just fine,” you assure her.

“I don’t want to risk it.” There’s a bit of firmness in her tone now. “You never know what sort of disasters lie out there waiting for you....here you are safe with your big sister.”

“Thanks for your concern,” you protest as calmly as possible. “But I’m perfectly capable of defending myself.

You try to sit up, but she pushes your head back onto the pillow.

“No,” she says. “Here is safe. Here is calm. Out there is not.”

You have to admit that she’s right about the second part. The lights aren’t too bright and it’s relatively quiet. 

“But.....why me?” you ask.

“Because....we’re very alike....I understand you; we both think differently from most.”

“Is that why it’s so dim and quiet here?”

Anya nods.

“Plus you’re also adorable.”

There’s one question that plagues your mind, but you’re not quite sure if you should ask.

“Eh, screw it,” you think.

“So, um....hypothetically, if I tried to escape you, what would happen?”

“Easy. I would simply take you back.”

“I’m a fast runner.”

“I bet you’re not as fast as your new big brother Erik. And anyway....”

She flattens out her hand and to your shock, a crystallized wisp appears.

“You’re.....you’re....”

Anya nods.

“Vid’ma....a witch....I’ve trained to protect my loved ones since I was ten.”

Her voice becomes especially firm now, firm enough to scare you.

“I’ve already lost my parents, and I worry I might lose Erik.....but I won’t lose you, baby sister. Ever.”

She makes the wisp disappear. 

“But if you intend to keep me here, why am I not tied up or anything?” you ask.

“Because I want to be able to trust you, baby sister. I won’t use restraints unless you prove to be difficult.”

That’s a slight relief to hear.

“Now....I bet you’re hungry. I’ll go prepare you something. Oh! Have you ever had chicken paprikash? It’s amazing, but it takes so long to prepare. How about some borscht? Do you like borscht, baby sister?”

“I-I’m not....hungry,” you insist.

“You’re going to be hungry eventually. And you need to eat. It’s good for you.”

She gives you a soft kiss on your head.

“Get some rest, baby sister. I’ll go make you something to eat.”

And with that, she heads out.

You sigh as you turn in the new bed. You never thought you’d be taken captive, let alone by a witch. Is there any chance of escape?

“I’ll just have to try, but I need a plan first....”

[I’m sorry if this isn’t all that great, but I really wanna introduce her to y’all. Lemme know if you want a second part. I can also do a romantic yandere plot with her, as she’s over 18.]

[pvrrhadve]

I trust ur taste in books, so can you recommend some? 🥺🥺🥺

yes absolutely!! this turned out obnoxiously long so i'm putting it under a read more

at this point you definitely all know about 2 of my favourite series, the queen's thief and the locked tomb

on the jellicoe road, also by melina marchetta. my fav ya contemporary, about a girl at a boarding school in the australian bush trying to figure out where she comes from, where she belongs and how to heal. marchetta's writing style can be a little difficult to get into for some people but she really really does it for me.

while tqt is my #1 favorite series, my 2nd favourite is melina marchetta's lumatere chronicles which is both kinda dark and full to the brim with love and hope and healing. some of my fav characters ever are in these books and the ending is so warm and radiant it straight up made me weep. some tw's that i go into here

the darkest part of the forest by holly black. ya fantasy. she wrote this specifically for girls who absolutely would've bargained years of their life away to the faerie king to become a monster-hunting knight when they were 11. black's magnum opus.

the girl who drank the moon by kelly barnhill. mg fantasy about a little girl who is accidentally given magical powers by a friendly bog witch. reads like a ghibli movie.

this is how you lose the time war by amal el-mohtar and max gladstone. a lyrical and devastatingly beautiful epistolary sci-fi wlw love story about 2 enemy time travellers.

abhorsen/old kingdom trilogy by garth nix. a ya fantasy classic about grief, duty, dead things and primordial cats and dogs. definitely holds up.

tess of the road by rachel hartman. ya fantasy. one of the best books i've read this year, had me completely emotionally invested by chapter 2. tess is SUCH a good character and her arc is so beautifully done. a companion novel/future series to hartman's seraphina duology but imo you don't need to read them first to enjoy this (you can ofc, but while the 1st (seraphina) is a really good scholarly fantasy about identity and also dragons, the 2nd (shadowscale) sadly didn't do much for me). tw for sexual assault (recounted as a memory, not graphic) and religious abuse.

the colours of madeleine by jaclyn moriarty. young ya/older mg contemporary portal fantasy. i picked these up on a whim a couple years ago and didn't expect much from them but was very pleasantly surprised by how fun and original they are. i reread them this summer and they're just as good the 2nd time around.

in other lands by sarah rees brennan. ya portal fantasy deconstruction. it's borderline satire and one of the funniest books i've ever read but it's also very sincere and intelligent in how it deals with its main character and his struggles.

middlegame by seanan mcguire. fantasy/sci-fi. honestly could not explain the plot of this book to you or why it's so good but there's psychically linked alchemically engineered twins who have various and sundry powers and i loved it.

sunshine by robin mckinley. paranormal urban fantasy. another book that i cant really explain but love anyway. i mean it's in the very general neighbourhood of "vampire romance" but like... weirder and frankly whatever you're expecting it to be it's probably not that.

keturah and lord death by martine leavitt. fairytale-like and haunting. every hades and persephone retelling wants what this book has.

the scorpio races by maggie stiefvater. her iconic standalone horsegirl fantasy <3 deeply atmospheric and about how being stuck on an unspecified celtic island in an unspecified but vaguely modern time could understandably be enough to drive you to fuck around with the local carnivorous water horses.

braiding sweetgrass by robin wall kimmerer. honestly if i could make everyone read just one book off this list it would be this one.

lab girl by hope jahren. beautifully written memoir about life, love and botany. one of my fav nonfiction books.

[riotwritesthings]

The Curious Witch and the Cursed Wolf

Chapter 3: A Name and A Feeling | AO3

Art by the wonderful and adorable @gayspacesprinkles​

Chapter 1, Chapter 2

Title: The Curious Witch and the Cursed Wolf (Chapter 3) Collaborator(s): Riot @buckybarnesbingo​ Square Filled: B4, warm and fuzzy feelings @starkbucksbingo​ Square Filled: N4, “Why aren’t you afraid of me?” Ship/Main Pairing: WinterIron Rating: T Major Tags/Warnings: fantasy AU, witch!Tony, wolf!Bucky, fairytale vibes, Non-graphic injury Summary: Once upon a time there was a man, and a wolf. They both went into the forest looking for different things, and instead they found each other. Word Count: 1,697

~~~

Once upon a time there was a man, soaring through the air, weaving through the trees, laughing, lighter than he’d ever felt in more ways than one.

“I’m doing it, I’m flying! Look look!”

Tony, the wolf says in his strange voice, like a whisper in the back of Tony’s mind, like it’s being spoken warm and low directly in his ear.

“Are you looking?!” Tony demands as he circles the clearing, picking up speed.

Don’t fly into a tree, the wolf tells him, but Tony is too busy crashing into a tree and hitting the ground to respond.

“Owww,” he whines and then squeaks when the wolf’s cold nose presses to the back of his neck.

Conjuring a broom for himself hadn’t been hard, once he’d simply told himself that he could, and getting it off the ground hadn’t been hard either. Just like the stories.

It turned out that steering was the hard part.

At least he’d thought to conjure himself up some new clothes too, hadn't scraped himself up too badly on the tree bark.

“You can, but we’re in a forest, I was going to say,” the ball of light says with a huff, and Tony just laughs.

He has magic. He can do so many things, now. He'll be able to make things so much better.

"That was awesome!" Tony says gleefully as he pushes himself upright again, laughing and pushing the wolf away when he continues sniffing at Tony with obvious concern.

"Oh no, you're an idiot," the ball of light says, with a sighing sound like a soft breeze. "And you're probably going to die."

Tony is going to protest, because he's not, he's just excited, but the wolf beats him to it with a low growl.

He was doin' okay right up 'til the end, the wolf says.

The ball of light screams, flashing brighter for a second.

"Y-you can talk?" She demands in a squeaking voice, bobbing up higher into the air.

"He's been talking the whole time," Tony says, wrinkling his nose in confusion.

Only to you, says the wolf, and Tony can see the amusement beneath the stormy blue of his eyes.

"He can talk," the light says again.

"Is that not normal?" Tony asks, still more confused than anything. "I mean, I'm a witch, apparently."

"No," the ball of light says with feeling as she floats hesitantly closer.

You're a talkin' firefly, the wolf points out, baring his fangs and then snapping them when the light floats a little too close.

"He's not wrong," Tony says helpfully. The wolf lets out another soft huff of breath, his tail thumping once against the ground, and Tony smiles.

“I’m not a firefly,” the light protests, wings shaking with agitation. “My name is Pepper.”

“Hi,” Tony says. “I’m Tony, and this is a wolf.”

The wolf makes a sound that Tony is pretty sure is a laugh, tail thumping against the ground as Pepper makes an annoyed sound.

“Are you—" she trails off, circling the wolf, and Tony steps closer because he doesn't care if the wolf isn't 'normal.'

Tony isn't normal, never has been, and maybe all he knows is that the wolf has been through more than enough but that's plenty. So Pepper dips down towards the wolf again Tony bats at her with a glare.

"He's under a curse,” she says, floating up above their heads again. "A strong one."

"Oh," Tony says, even though it really shouldn't be a surprise at this point. “Do you know—“

”Look, I'm a messenger, I’m not here to answer a million questions," Pepper says, sounding huffy. “I have more messages to deliver, and I'm late because I had to chase you down for so long."

"Wait—" Tony says, because he does have a million more questions, but she’s already floating away, still grumbling to herself.

Tony watches her go, the wolf still seated huge and solid and wild beside him. When Tony looks over at him the wolf lets his tongue loll out in an expression that Tony is pretty sure is a smile.

"So, cursed huh?" Tony asks, and the wolf tips its head to the side for a moment before nodding slowly. “Do, um... do you have a name?”

Don’t know, says the wolf, ears drooping a little.

Tony can’t let that stand, has to do something.

“Well you need a name,” he declares. “So we’ll just have to give you one. What do you want it to be?”

The wolf shifts, still a little unsteady on three legs, and droops a little further.

“Well, you probably don’t want me picking out a name for you,” Tony says with a sheepish grin. “You’ll end up with something like Buttercup.”

The wolf lets out a sharp huff of breath.

Bucky, he finally says. I think... it used to be Bucky.

“That’s a terrible name,” Tony says gleefully, “I love it. I’m going to call you Buckaroo, and Bucky-bear, and—“

Don’t, Bucky says with a flash of his teeth.

Tony just laughs. Bucky leans over and nudges his huge head into Tony’s chest, knocking him over in the dirt again.

He pushes himself upright and Bucky is smiling at him again, eyes bright. He continues watching Tony, like he’s waiting for something, head cocked slightly to the side.

“It probably won’t be long until you’re walking as good as new,” Tony says slowly, because he doesn’t want to say goodbye. “I guess, you probably have somewhere you need to be—“

Bucky whines again, such a deep and sorrowful sound, drops his chin down to rest on his front paw and stares up at Tony with big sad eyes.

“Or!” Tony says quickly, heart jumping. “Or, you, if you wanted to come with me...”

Bucky’s tail wags aggressively, and Tony smiles. The stone in his chest glows bright enough to shine through his shirt, like it’s connected directly to the warmth spreading through his heart.

“I’ll get better at flying,” Tony says quickly, “So I won’t hold you back, your stride has to be huge—“

No flyin’ in the trees, Bucky interrupts, and then huffs when Tony pouts.

Bucky pushes himself to his feet, gives himself a great shake like he’s shaking off water, and Tony watches in awe as half of his size melts away. Until Bucky’s head is barely even with his shoulder, much smaller but no less fearsome.

Ready, Bucky says, smiling again, white fangs no less intimidating now that they’re smaller.

Tony smiles back, collects all his things, and they go.

 ~~~

They walk deeper into the forest, and Tony tells stories of all the things he’s seen so far, all the people he’s met and the ideas he’s had, all the new ideas that he has now.

There are so many inventions he can build now that he can summon the parts he needs. So many people he can help back in his old village, that he can heal, and maybe they’ll actually listen to him this time. Maybe they’ll let him help.

Bucky listens, asks questions, lets Tony grab onto him for balance when he gets distracted talking with his hands and tips over a tree root.

Bucky says that he doesn’t remember much, only running, being hunted. Tony doesn’t ask any questions.

As the trees grow even taller around them though Bucky slowly says that sometimes, he remembers more. What it was like to have a home, a life, but it’s faded, barely more than a dream now.

Tony doesn’t know what to say so he reaches out instead, runs his fingers through Bucky’s thick fur a couple times. Bucky’s steps lighten, ears and tail perking up again, and Tony smiles.

It’s nice, not to be alone.

Night falls early, this deep in the forest. The thick leaves blot out all light from the stars, and the darkness is deep and cool around them.

"Do you think I can manage an all-night magical fire to keep us warm?" Tony asks once they find a place to spend the night, safe between an outcropping of rock and the roots of an ancient oak tree. "Or should I just magic us up some blankets?"

He does want to try the fire, but he also wants to not burn them both to a crisp overnight.

Blankets, Bucky scoffs and gives him a look that Tony quickly figured out is his version of a teasing grin, stops sniffing at the ground to push himself to his feet and then stretches, stretches, stretches himself out huge again. Until he once again stands taller than Tony's head, huge and fearsome.

Then he drops down to the ground again, makes himself comfortable and gives Tony an expectant look. He huffs in fake annoyance when Tony flops out on top of him, but Tony isn’t buying it.

Tony wiggles and shifts until he can prop his crossed arms and chin on top of Bucky’s massive head, grinning down at him. Snuggling into Bucky thick fur and soaking up all his warmth.

Why aren’t you afraid of me? Bucky asks, his usually quiet voice even softer.

"Why would I be?" Tony asks, frowning a little.

All he's seen of Bucky so far has been pain, and fear, a hesitant reaching out and a warm soul beneath it all. The way he'd jumped in front of Tony when Pepper first showed up.

Nothing that Tony should be scared of.

He pushes his fingers into Bucky's fur, scratches behind his ear, and smiles again when Bucky's eyes fall closed.

"Why aren't you afraid of me?" Tony has to know, because he'd seen the way Bucky had gone tense at the word witch. He'd seen the wound that took Bucky's leg, seared and torn as if by some incredible force and heat. Something unnatural and terrible.

He'd really expected Bucky to leave.

You're... different, Bucky says slowly, so warm. Safe. Good.

Tony presses his smile into Bucky's fur, cheeks warm.

"Well, since neither of us have anything to be afraid of, maybe we should stick together,” Tony says. "You know, for safety."

For safety, Bucky agrees, and presses his head up harder into Tony's hand.

[haveamagicalday]

My reads of 2020

My top ten is in a separate post but here are the rest of my reads!

5 Stars

If You Tell by Gregg Olsen 

This is a memoir about the Shelley Knotek case. It focuses heavily on the relationship and struggles of her three daughters that were just children when Shelley’s tortures started. This book was fantastically written for such a morbid tale but be warned, it is not for the faint of heart. Trigger Warning: Abuse, torture, murder

Wayside School Beneath the Cloud of Doom by Louis Sachar 

The Wayside school books were some of my favorite growing up. I made sure to reread them all before reading this one. It felt like no time had past at all. This is a great blast from the past that won’t disappoint old fans of the series. 

4 Stars

All Your Twisted Secrets by Diana Urban

A group of seemingly unrelated students are invited to a scholar dinner that turns out to be a trapped. Once all the students arrive, they are locked in with a bomb and the the option to choose one person to die or they all die. As the night slips away, we learn the secrets and connections the students share that brought them to their predicament. Surprisingly not as suspenseful as you would think it would be and the secrets/bad things the students had done in the past really weren’t that twisted. Still it was very fun with an explosive ending.

Beyond the Shadowed Earth by Joanna Ruth Meyer

This is a sequel to Beneath the Haunting Sea and actually focused on the hero from the first’s books antagonist, Eda. Eda overthrow our hero from the first book as heir to the throne, blamed the king’s death on her and had her wrongfully banished to an island that launched the story of the first book. After that we never visited Eda again as the book focused on a different story instead of getting her kingdom back. So in this one, we see what happened to Eda after she took over. She is not a good person and the author isn’t afraid to make her unlikable at first, but also redeemable through her adventure and misfortunate. 

Break Your Glass Slippers by Amanda Lovelace

Another book of poetry from Amanda Lovelace that delivers profound and touching poems.

Daughter of the Forest by Juliet Marillier 

A classic retelling of The Six Swans. This story takes place in a medieval/fantasy version of Ireland. Marillier is one of my favorite authors of fairytale retellings. This book is definitely a slow read but is gorgeously written and rich in character development. The story follows the fairytale with little variation. Trigger Warning: Rape (graphic depiction).  

Lady Killers: Deadly Women Throughout History by Tori Telfer

Nonfictional account of female serial killers. I liked that this wasn’t written like a wikipedia page and took a more narrative approach. After the first few women, they all start to blend together though. Lots of poisoning happens. It would have been nice for some variety. 

Malorie by Josh Malerman

The sequel to Bird Box that we probably didn’t need but was still good nonetheless. This one focuses more on Boy and Girl (now named thankfully) as teenagers and their view and challenges of the world they’ve grown up in. This book introduced new concepts that were interesting and creative. Somehow this managed to have a relatively happy and satisfying conclusion.

The Monstrous Feminine by Barbara Creed  

A look at horror films through a feminist and psychological lens. I absolutely loved this book and the ideas it presents. The first half of the book takes a look at certain horror films (such as Carrie, the Exorcist, Alien, ect.) and “challenges this patriarchal view by arguing that the prototype of all definitions of the monstrous is the female reproductive body.” I liked the first section of the book more than the second part where I felt it focused too much on Freud and his findings and challenging them through horror films.

No Judgements by Meg Cabot

A cute, fluffy romance that takes place on a small island preparing for a category 3 hurricane. Bree finds herself forced to shelter with the island’s resident heartbreaker and they don’t get along. At first ;)

The Silent Patient by Alex Michaelides

Alicia, a famous painter and wealthy wife, shocked the world when she killed her husband and then stopped speaking afterwards. Now committed to a mental institute, Alicia is still refusing to speak. Theo is a therapist who jumps at the opportunity to work with Alicia and discover what really happened with her husband. Some of the twist was easy to pick up on at first but there was plenty that kept me guessing. This was a real page turner.

When We Were Magic by Sarah Gailey

Alexis and her group of friends have one very big thing in common; they are able to preform magic. One night, Alexis’ magic causes an accidental death of a classmate and the friends have to ban together to make things right. This was a creative and moving read. There’s plenty of magic but it almost comes secondary to the friendships and blossoming love between two of the friends. 

The Year of the Witching by Alexis Henderson

Immanuelle lives in. a patriarchal society where the prophet’s word is law and the town is bordered by the evil and forbidden Darkwood. In the Darkwoods lurks four witches that seem to be calling out to Immanuelle. This book had fantastic world building and the story was unique and engaging. Sometimes it felt like we were just skimming the surface of possibilities and I felt that the book could have been longer or divided into a series. While the story wraps up in the end it does turn out there is going to be a sequel so I’m excited for that! Trigger Warning: Mentions of Rape

3.5 Stars

The Cousins by Karen M. McManus

Jonah, Aubrey and Milly never knew their rich grandmother. Her children were all cut off ominously with a note simply saying “you know what you did.” Now their grandmother is reaching out to the cousins and inviting them to work at her island resort for the summer. Lots of secrets and twists await them! This book was a lot of fun and probably my favorite of this author’s so far. Some of the twists border on zany but the overall tone of the book is a little zany so it works.

Horrid by Katrina Leno 

After her father’s death, Jane and her mother are forced to move across the country into Jane’s mother’s childhood home. The manor has many secrets hidden within that Jane must face. The book was well written and intriguing. The books deal with grief and mental illness with a touch of the supernatural. I felt that the overall pacing felt off though. Very little happened in the beginning and then a lot happens in the last 30 or so pages and then it ended abruptly. It was a great concept though and I'm interested in more from this author!

One of Us is Next by Karen M. McManus

A sequel to the hit novel, One of Us is Lying. This book focuses on one of the character’s from the first books little sister and two of her classmates. The stakes in this one didn’t feel quite as serious as the first book but it was a fun read with interesting twists!

The Return by Rachel Harrison

Julie went missing, leaving her 3 best friends grappling with tragedy. Then, exactly two years later, she comes back with no memories. The four friends decide to spend a weekend together but something is not quite right with Julie. This book was creepy! However, it focuses more on the relationships of the four characters and dealings with grief with a touch of supernatural sprinkled throughout. It’s a gripping novel from start to finish that will keep you guessing.

3 Stars

All the Missing Girls by Megan Miranda

Nicolette returns to her hometown for the first time in ten years after the mysterious disappearance of her best friend. Shortly after arriving another girl goes missing, forcing Nicolette to relive what happened years ago. What made this book a page turner was that it tells the story backwards. Once she gets to her hometown it starts on her 10th day and works backwards to what happened on the day of her arrival. Unfortunately, while the concept works at first it builds up to a lackluster and disappointing ending. If you were to put the book in the correct order, it wouldn’t work as there are stuff that is found out in the first few days that the reader doesn’t know about but the characters do that wouldn’t make sense in a narrative sense.

Behind Closed Doors by B.A. Paris

From the outside Jack and Grace come off as the perfect couple but behind closed doors, everything changes. No twists here, Grace is Jack’s prisoner and she is desperately trying to get away. The book alternates between past and present about her current situation and how she got there. This involves a lot of suspension of disbelief. Jack is a cartoony type of villain with no real motive and he would never be able to get away with what he was doing. Grace is also not the smartest person, there were a lot of different ways she could have escaped but for the sake of the story she doesn’t. Don’t get me wrong, this was still a suspenseful and fun read but also questionable and some points.

The Blue Salt Road by Joanne M. Harris

A quick, fairytale like story about a selkie who was tricked into becoming human and now longs to return to the sea. I feel like there was a message being preached in this story, but I can’t really pinpoint what it was. Regardless, this was a magical little read.

Clown in a Corn Field by Adam Cesare

Clown in the corn field is a slasher film put on page. It starts off like a typical YA novel and sets up a mystery as to who the clown is, but then the clown attacks at a party and the rest of the novel is that one night as the clown wrecks havoc and the teens have to escape. I think I wold have preferred and more drawn out mystery but fans of slasher films would really enjoy this!

Coral by Sara Ella

A sort of retelling of the Little Mermaid. Sort of. This book focuses on strong themes of mental health. The mermaid/fantasy side is minimal and almost completely disappears in the 2/3rds in to the novel. It was a slightly confusing read but had a powerful depiction of depression. Trigger Warning: Suicide

The Doll House Murders by Betty Ren Wright

A sad but sweet little mystery novel about a preteen girl who discovers a dark secret via an old dollhouse and its mysterious moving dolls. The subject matter was dark but the story was written for middle graders and thus mystery is handled with simplicity and strange charm to it.

Good Girl, Bad Blood by Holly Jackson

The sequel to A Good Girl’s Guide to Murder. This book hasn’t been released in the US yet but you can still get the British/original version on amazon which is what I did. This novel requires a stretch of disbelief and I didn’t think the mystery was as good as the first one. However, if you are a fan of the first one, you will still want to check this one out as well!

I Know Who You Are by Alice Feeney

You definitely have to suspend your disbelief when you read this one. It's gripping and while some twists were easily guessed, the final one took me for a surprise. It's equal parts dark/chilling and cheesy/silly. I'm still left with a lot of questions after the ending. It makes the book fall apart when you think about it but if you just take it for what it is, an entertaining but cheesy thriller, you'll enjoy it.

The Harp of Kings by Juliet Marillier 

This book features the children of the main characters from the Blackthorn and Grim series but you don’t need to read that series in order to read this one (though you should!). The book features three teenagers that are training to be warriors that are selected to go undercover in a nearby kingdom to find the stolen Harp of Kings before the new king’s coronation can take place. It was slow in the beginning and I felt there wasn’t much character development but it was an enjoyable read.

In Darkling Wood by Emma Carroll

Alice’s sick brother is getting a lung transplant and Alice is forced to stay with an estranged grandmother. Her grandmother lives on the edge of darkling wood, a place rumored to be filled with fairies. This book reminded me of a less dark version of When A Monster Calls. It deals with some of the same themes but this is more aimed towards children with a feel good ending.

The Lost Girls by Heather Young

In the summer of 1935, six year old Emily disappeared leaving her two older sisters and parents devastated. Sixty years later, both sisters are dead but one of them left behind her house and a notebook detailing what happened that summer for her grandniece, Justine. This book wasn’t so much of a thriller but focused more on Justine’s current issues with her daughters and ex boyfriend. I found the chapters with the notebook pages in between chapters more interesting than the modern story.

Love, Stargirl by Jerry Spinelli 

I read the first Stargirl years ago but reread it before reading this one. This sequel doesn’t manage to capture the same charm as the first one did. The book is a series of letters that Stargirl writes (but doesn’t send) to Leo from the first book following her over the course of a year. I found it surprisingly boring at times and Stargirl seemed far to normal as compared to the first book. It was neat to see what she was up to after the first book but overall I didn’t think it was a necessary sequel. 

A Psalm for Lost Girls by Katie Bayerl

Callie’s older sister was considered a saint in her small town before she tragically passed away. Now the city is trying to have her canonized, but Callie knows her sister wasn’t a saint, and the pressure is what ultimately killed, so now she’s on a mission to prove that her sister was just a normal girl. This book involved a missing child that Callie’s sister was supposed to find before she died but couldn’t. The mystery there was very predictable and was kind of on the back burner to Callie’s story. I think this would have been a more interesting story if it had been from the sister’s perspective and how it felt to be a teen saint while she was still alive.

The Rose Without a Thorn by Jean Plaidy 

The story of Katherine Howard, the fifth wife of King Henry. I was looking for a novel that painted Katherine as sympathetic, as most adaptations make her out to be a seductress. This novel was strange as it read as a wikipedia entry in a narrative form. It was all telling and no showing and lacked real emotion. From the minor research I’ve done, it seems to be pretty accurate in terms of events that happened. Trigger Warning: Sexual Abuse featuring a minor (but isn’t presented as such)

Sadie by Courtney Summers

Sadie’s sister was murdered and she is determined to bring the killer to justice. In between each chapter about Sadie is a the transcript for a podcast that is covering the case, as well as Sadie’s future disappearance . This is a very popular book but to be honest, I'm not sure what the point was? The podcast was an interesting idea but it basically just rehashed everything we already knew. Not much was added by it. The ending just fizzles away and the story tended to drag in places. It was very well written though and I think I was just not the right audience for it.

The Seventh Bride by T. Kingfisher

A creepy retelling of Bluebeard. It reads like a YA in some places but Adult in others. It was definitely unsightly and out there but I found it confusing in some places. It has some great creepy imagery and slight body horror to it.

The Supervillain and Me by Danielle Banas

Abby’s brother is a superhero beloved by the whole crime ridden town. But when a supervillain comes into town, Abby finds her paths crossing with him again and again. Okay, so the supervillain wasn’t even a villain and the reason for wanting Abby to help him was not a very good one. The book is mostly about the romance between the two which was nice but nothing spectacular. I found myself more interested in the musical Abby was starring in. It was about a cannibalistic royal family whose oldest son falls in love with a servant and he has to save her from being eaten by his family. Now THAT sounded interesting!

Winterdream by Chantal Gadoury

A Nutcracker retelling. This was a sweet retelling of the story. It didn’t add much to the original tale or the ballet but it was a good winter read to get into the spirit of Christmas.

They Wish They Were Us by Jessica Goodman

Freshman year, Jill’s best friend was killed by her boyfriend., Graham Now it’s senior year and Jill is the president of an elite school club but someone keeps texting her about Graham’s innocence and she can’t keep herself from diving deeper into the mystery to unearth what really happened to her friend. Gripping and twisty, this book was a solid teen mystery!

Not Rated

I’m Thinking of Ending Things by Iain Reid

I read this almost a year ago and I still don’t know what to think about it. I can’t decide if the story was genius or simple shock value. Did the twist make sense? I don’t know honestly. I read this before I even knew there was a netflix adaptation coming and I while I read this book in one sitting, I only made it halfway through the movie. I personally don’t think it translated well to screen. If you are looking for a quick disturbing read with an ending you WILL NOT be able to guess, then I highly recommend this one.

The Merry Spinster: Tales of Everyday Horror by Mallory Ortberg

There’s a pretty popular post on his webiste that has a link to a horrifying retelling of Curious George. This is a collection of retellings/unrelated short stories by the same author. I didn’t read all of the stories in this because some of them were just too difficult to get through and confusing. However, the dark retellings of fairy tales and children books were really enjoyable. I particularly liked the retellings of The velveteen rabbit, the frog prince and the six swans. I think they can all be found online and not just in this collection.

Midnight Sun by Stephenie Meyer

Is it good? No. Is it garbage? Yes. Did I still read it any way? Yes. Team Edward for life.

[joannechocolat]

ORFEIA: on grief, and the dark side of fairytale.

When my daughter was eight years old, I began to write a crime novel about the death of a child. Nine pages in, I abandoned it. The thought of losing a child like that, even in fiction, was so viscerally upsetting to me that I ditched the idea permanently. Or so I thought.

Twenty years later, I wrote Orfeia, the story of a woman, Fay, who loses her adult daughter Daisy through suicide, and of her journey through the different levels of London, through Faërie, and finally to the Land of Death, where she must face the Hallowe’en King, and enter a battle of wits with him for her daughter’s return. It is a battle she cannot win, as she is losing her memory; and yet I like to think that victory, like love, is in the eye of the beholder.

Why I decided to write this story then, and in that fairytale genre, I didn’t ask myself at first, except that it seemed right, somehow, and because somehow the story wanted – needed – to be told.

In some ways Orfeia closely follows The Strawberry Thief, in which Vianne Rocher has to come to terms with her beloved Anouk growing up, getting married and moving away. At the time of writing it, my own daughter was embarking on the same journey, and it was inevitable that some of my own experience would make it into my fiction. I know it isn’t the same sort of loss, but for a parent, there is a kind of bereavement when a child leaves home, along with a sense of questioning their purpose and direction, now that the child’s upbringing is no longer at the centre of their life. But Fay’s real story comes from elsewhere, and has taken me a long time to process.

We often find in fairy tales accounts of people who die of grief. But I saw it happen first-hand, and it was anything but fantasy. My great-aunt, my grandmother’s sister, had been living as a cleaner in Paris. Her only son, whom she adored, but with whom she was estranged, had been living abroad for years. From time to time she would hear news of him and his family, but he never wrote to her. She had a single – very old - photograph of him with his wife and their daughter, which she always proudly showed me when I came to visit.

One day a friend, assuming that she already knew, made a casual reference to her son’s suicide. My great-aunt found out in this dreadful way that her son had died some years before. The shock of the news sent her into a sudden, dramatic decline. The tough Parisian resilience that had helped her survive a war, an acrimonious divorce and near-financial ruin just collapsed almost overnight. In only a few months, she became completely unable to function, or even to remember who she was. She would look at herself in the mirror and complain that “an old woman” - or sometimes a “witch” - was spying on her through a secret window. She died in a retirement home, less than six months afterwards.

That memory has stayed with me, and I used it in Orfeia. I wanted to take a familiar story (the myth of Orpheus and Eurydice) and use it as a metaphor for a woman’s journey from grief to a kind of acceptance. The fairytale and fantasy details act as a reflection of Fay’s mental state, as her life (and maybe her sanity) begins to unravel. I also wanted to hint on some level that her growing confusion and memory loss might be something to do with grief-induced dementia.

             If that sounds a little bleak, it is - which is why I also wanted to give Fay some kind of resolution. It’s also the reason I chose to tell this story through the lens of fantasy; because the truth underlying it – the raw grief of a mother robbed of her child – was still too much for me to explore within a real-world setting. But fairy tales are dark tales; in spite of attempts to make them into harmless stories for children, they deal with the darkest of issues – grief, loss, murder, abuse, monsters both human and inhuman, and of course Death, that ultimate monster, and our constant struggle with him – which is why they speak to us on a deeper, more intuitive, more primal level than stories of the real world.

In pre-Freudian times, fairy tales were the only means to express deep and unspoken feelings that could not be otherwise expressed. Now that we understand more about the workings of the human mind, they emerge as a kind of counterpart to the human subconscious; a direct conduit to what we feel; the secret language of Humankind.

During my time as a Languages student I fell into the rabbit-hole of German psychoanalysis. During that time I came to believe that there’s a direct parallel between the levels of the conscious and unconscious mind and the different narratives that we use to express our identity. History is the ego; the conscious, rational, factual mind and the official identity of a culture. Story – that is, fantasy, folklore and fairytale - reflects the human subconscious; its needs, fears, and dreams throughout the centuries; the secret, hidden identity running alongside the official version. So the further we look into ourselves, and the more we explore our cultural identity, the more likely we are to find value in these “fantasy” narratives, which are in fact the truest expressions of our collective unconscious.

In Orfeia I wanted to challenge the distinction between what we think of as “reality” and “fantasy.” Just as Fay slips from one state of consciousness into another, the story slips between both worlds, from the familiar ego-London to the World Below of London’s subconscious and its secret, forest heart.

The framework of existing folklore is surprisingly receptive to this. The two Child Ballads I chose as the foundation of the story lead naturally to each other. King Orfeo – the Celtic adaptation of the Orpheus myth - already contains many fairytale elements, which made it easy to incorporate the further elements from The Elphin Knight. And the idea of riddles as a means of communicating with Death (the unknown, the unconscious mind, etc) just seemed like the next logical step. To expand my theory of the conscious and the unconscious mind as a universal analogy, I was trying to introduce the idea that fantasy and reality are all part of the same world, just as the conscious and the unconscious mind are all part of the same brain. Anything that can be imagined is real on some level of existence. That means that all my books – including the ones not generally seen as fantasy - are actually part of the same extended multiverse. Whether I’m writing fantasy as Joanne M. Harris, or literary fiction as Joanne, I like the symmetry of that - and also how much it will annoy those among the literary community who refuse to acknowledge fantasy as the legitimate art form it undoubtedly is.

[eternalstrigoii]

Haunt-ober Night #7: Haunted (prompt)

                                 I used to come here when I was a child, the imagined version of you says over your shoulder as you ducked under a familiar layer of disturbed spider’s webbing. Like a mother’s quilt, the familiar patchwork drooped and sagged with dirt, stone-dust, and merciless time; you could recall – perfectly – that it had been there when you last set foot inside. You were no more than eleven, maybe twelve years old, and you could not yet reach that point of the doorframe, so you had not concerned yourself with the weightiness of its drape. Now, it would’ve stuck in your hair if you hadn’t ducked. It would stick on his horns if he did not go lower – tangle around the thumb-claw of his wing and need to be tenderly removed from his sateen feathers. How embarrassed you would’ve been if you’d been impulsive enough to bring him along.

My father told me stories of this place. All of them were ghost stories. I never believed them. He could never tell the same one twice.

It was different than you remembered.

What was left of the roof sagged dangerously low on one side, and the bulk of the East-facing wall had crumbled to the foundation. What low stone remained was just high enough to trap leaves and other tree-bracken as though the storm-winds did not blow from the opposite direction.

It might’ve been safer for you to stand where the roof did not exist.

The most intact of the walls held the door as well as a frameless, glassless window. The ledge was damp with dew even on the inside, and clean enough to require little dusting off before you folded a part of your dress neatly under the backs of your legs to settle.

I used to sit in this window, you imagined yourself saying, though you had already made up your mind: you were never going to use this place as a secret meeting-spot. You would rather take your chances in the open fields than embarrass yourself like this. You used to be able to see the moors from here. Not much of them – you couldn’t tell where it started and where the forest ended, then – but the water was always clearer.

“Because no one did their laundry in it,” you said, entirely to yourself. To your father’s nonexistent ghosts, perhaps. You knew why, as an adult, he did not want you to “explore” a crumbling structure – and, to a degree, you’d known as a child, too. Prospective danger was a part of life, and no more a deterrent for adventure than it should’ve been.

Your child-self would be proud of you, sneaking off in the dead of night once you were sure he was not coming. Trying to find a place on earth safe enough to be with the man you loved in secret.

First, he said it was an ancient battleground. That the souls of brutally slaughtered pagan warriors rose again with the light of the full moon to reap their vengeance on those who’d conquered them. Then, he said it was an estate built by some wealthy nobleman for his ailing wife, to get her out of the plague-riddled city. It used to be as grand as a palace. Fifty marble fireplaces, an indoor well, whatever she needed to recover. Twelve beds made of pure silk, stuffed with duck feathers. The more you thought about it, the more you realized your father might’ve been making fun of the nobility, as he should. No one would want a bed of duck feathers; it would deflate to a sack when you laid on it. She died the day he brought her here. Consumed by grief, the nobleman would’ve sooner faced the devil than another day without his truest love.

Had he ever finished that story? Did he ever say that his false nobleman died in any particularly horrific way? You’d always presumed something like hanging – you’d never seen a hanging before, but you’d imagined that it would be relatively easy inside a house. Getting the rope around the rafters would be the hard part. Everything else…

You scrubbed the heels of your palms over your eyes. How silly of you, overthinking scary stories. You should’ve been asleep.

The witch who cursed the king’s daughter lives out here, you imagined saying. Whispering, practically against the leaf of his ear while you were folded into the safety of his wing. The king had a daughter once, and a wife. And, though you might relay the version you’d been told, your imagined-incarnation practically trembled with laughter – though you did not say it out loud, the fact that he must’ve deserved it bled into your retelling. Terrible things don’t happen to good people unless they’re done by someone like him. Good kings are as much a fairytale as witches with grudges against them.

Unless she knows him like the rest of us do.

The cool of the stone had begun to seep through the layer of your dress. You sighed and pulled yourself up from the ledge as well as the swirl of fantasy and memory. You don’t want to think about the warmth of his body against yours when it’s so cold at night. You don’t know if it would be cold at night if you didn’t know what it felt like to rest against someone. The kisses you would press to his jaw, the tickle of his beard, and the gentle enthusiasm of his mouth on yours in return. Sneaking away like teenagers to kiss and caress and sleep in the shafts of moonbeams.

You would anger the non-existent human spirits over their so-called star-crossed love. It couldn’t be here.

You paused to take one last glance at the wall of thorns that cut through the forest like the sudden interjection of a scar, and you made a quick retreat to the other side of the not-quite structure, and climbed over the still-mortared stones where there was no roof to cave in on you. If you did not find somewhere, at least your neighbors were not close enough to cast suspicion.

The shiver that ran up your spine, unfortunately, had nothing to do with witches. Not even if you imagined that would be exactly the word they used if they recognized that you were consorting with the fey. Something-something blasphemy and heresy and taking money from farmers instead of kings, because the human world made ever so much sense.

No, the shiver that ran up your spine had nothing to do with witches. Nothing to do with fear of suspicion, either, though you certainly gathered your wrap a bit tighter around yourself.

At the edge of the forest, not far beyond the ruin, golden eyes caught the faint, silver light, and glowed like the embers of a newly-stoked flame. They followed your retreat down the hillside, even as you grew smaller in the distance.

How close you’d been. Practically within reach. Conall’s little mouse.

You would be again. Perhaps, next time, you would satisfy the instinct to look backward when you felt a shiver.

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

Tag List: @fateischosen, @madlenfireknight, @boxxyass, @mor-ranr, @blacksirenswolf, @swim-reaper, @thetempleofthemasaigoddess, @deathonyourtongue Message me if you’d like to be added to the tag list for future fics! Looking for more? Click my icon; there’s a masterlist!  

[wordsthativelost]

Stalking Jack

Hey, look what I found on an old flash drive!  I guess that counts as “words I’ve lost - and found” I don’t even have a place to post original fic any more.  Might as well put it here. I wrote this when I was very depressed.  I still think it’s *interesting* if not necessarily *good* CONTENT WARNINGS: suggested child abuse, hints at sexual abuse, suggested violence. -----

    "My real mother would never make me do that," you say to me.

    All children tell themselves secretly that they have other, better, parents somewhere -- kinder, grander, more exciting -- or so I have heard.  I never did, but then I was never one for daydreaming.  Not like you.  Most children are not brave enough, cruel enough, to speak that story aloud.

    You, however, stand before me, your eyes now level with mine, your father's broad jaw jutting forward, and cross wiry arms against a chest that is no longer quite so thin. You repeat, "My real mother would allow me to stay."  To hide the trembling, you push your hand through that ragged straw hair with its gleam of sunrise, covering your eyes so I do not see the hurt.  O my careless burden, my Jack, your words slice my heart in two, and it falls empty to the dirt floor between us; but no blame spills out, no blame at all.

    How can I blame you for denying me, denying this the home I made for you?  We are dirty and dark, rough and ramshackle, no place for you, O my shining youth, my shame, all sunlight and softness and the sweet drone of summer bees.  Surely you could not have sprung from between these splintered thighs, slipped from this chinked womb.  

    "Good.  Then ask your real mother for food and a fire," I say harshly.  Like this hovel, I have no shelter left to offer, and the Spring turning is still many weeks away.  "Go and find work, for there is nothing more for you here."

    Your eyes, molten gold, flow away from mine. "There's still the cow.  I could take her to the knacker's yard."

    "What?  She is all that I have left from..."  I do not finish. I do not think of the time before.

    "She is too old.  She is useless.  She requires feed and water and gives no milk in return."

    "She is not yours to sell."  This is true.  The cow had been a gift to me, a calf then, with eyes as warm and whimsical as a promise of faithfulness and fertility.  It is also true that she is now withered and dry.  I am still not ready to let her go.  "You would kill her to purchase a few more days of idle scribbling?"

    At that, your eyes flash.  "I am not idle!"  You shake your hand at me, still gripping the stick of charcoal you use to etch your fancies on scraps of wood and bark.  "You have never understood.  You have never cared about what is important to me!"

    No, I do not understand you, O my strange one, my changeling child.  How you drink tales and eat stories, how you exhaust yourself from your pretend battles and lie spent, bleeding words from a thousand invisible cuts.  But still the ice in my chest melts before your fire.  "See that you get a good price for her, then," is all I say.

    But when you return the next evening, you bring me no cheese for our supper, no wood for our fire.  No copper coins to purchase a few more tomorrows.  Instead, you show me a fist filled with foolish fancies, and your mouth drips with dreams like poisoned honey.  A strange man, you tell me, a man with flaxen hair and the eyes of a lion, met you on the forest path and offered you great things. You traded my cow, my past, for his promises and plans.

    I say nothing. You chatter on nonsensically, but I cannot hear you over the howling in my ears and I cannot see you for the darkness in my eyes. I take your folly and fling it out the door, scattering your daydreams like dirt in our yard, and you fall silent, and I think that now the rage in your heart will choke the hunger in your belly.  

    Maybe this time your stories are true.  Maybe you are not my son.

    In the morning you are gone.  You have followed this stranger's ensnaring lures, I tell myself.  Trapped in the clinging vines of your own imaginings, you climb them into the clouds of fairytales, the fog of let's-pretend.

    I hope that someone will feed you there.

    As for me, I search beneath my pillow for my small bag of precious things:  a faded blue ribbon, a crumbled flower wrapped in a yellowing scrap of lace, many tiny ivory teeth that tumble onto my hand, biting into the palm.  There is also the ring, the one your father gave me six months before you were born.  I use my own teeth to pry out the stone, sparkling topaz, like his eyes, like your eyes. It glitters like the deceitful endings of your magpie daydreams, and I close my fist tightly. The Travelers will come by soon, when the Winter rains end.  Perhaps they will trade me supplies and seeds for the empty silver band.

    Weeks later, I am digging in my new garden with a stout sharpened stick.  You return to me, your golden eyes blazing like the sun reflected in the puddles all around me. Sitting in the doorway, you watch me kneel in the mud, and spin me fantastic tales of a giant's mansion, filled with amazing treasures. No, you did not see the giant, you admit; but you met his woman, a delicate, fragile, timid thing.  She pitied you, you say.  She fed you, and cosseted you, and hid you when the giant returned, his voice like thunder.  The woman told you to run, and you did, ran all the way back to me.

    "And look what she gave me!"  Your voice cracks like ice with excitement, as you shove a small purse into my hands. "Gold! Jewels! She says that all the giant's fortune shall be mine!"

    I look inside, and my eyes see only the dull gleam of brass buttons and bright shining beads.  O my besotted fool, my dreamer.  When have you ever seen real gold, real jewels, so that you should recognize them?  But then, when have I?

    I say nothing.  Instead I give you hot soup, made from the wild onions and cattails I have gathered near the lake.  You eat three bowls' worth, scowling all the while, comparing the meal to the rich scraps from the giant's table.  "But you shall eat such food now, shall you not?" you tease me. You insist that you must go back on the morrow, to fetch me more wealth from the giant's store.

    When you have left, I pull out my last set of spare sheets.  The cotton is soft from many washings, but still not worn through.  I boil the cloth with the onion peelings until it is the color of ripe wheat, of new butter, of your father's hair, your hair, shimmering under the smoking tallow-dips as you struggle to soothe your frantic fantasies to lay quivering, flat upon the page. I cut and pin and stitch it into a fine dress, such as an alderman's wife might wear, and sew the buttons you brought me down the front and sleeves.  Tomorrow I will bring this into town, and see if I can trade it for an iron trowel.  

    It is only two weeks later when you return again. I am searching the ground for fallen sticks to burn; although the days are warmer now, it still grows cold at night. "My father!" you shout as you rush to me. "The giant's woman told me of my father!"  Your words spray out like stones from beneath a cart wheel.  I flinch as they strike me.  Your father, you say, your real father, was a great man, a fine lord, a king! Indeed, he was the true owner of the grand house where you have been hiding for so many days. The giant came and slew him, and cast you, his infant heir, away into poverty and filth.  Surely, you ask me, it is your duty to reclaim all that should be yours by right?

    My duty is to feed you.  I grind acorns dug from the beneath the bracken and set to boil for hours.  They taste bitter and flat, so I stir in a handful of dried berries and the last of the windfallen apples.  You wolf down the porridge and grimace, but then you grin at me, like you are hiding the most delicious secret.  "Look at what I brought you from the giant's house this time!"  You thrust an odd bundle of carved sticks and wires into my hands, fingers stained brown and purple from cooking.  You tell me that this is a harp, that I can hang it in the doorway, and the wind will make it sing with marvelous, magical tunes. You say that it will make me less dull, make my days pass quickly and my sleep more restful.

    I say nothing.  You are so pleased with yourself and your gift.  O my heartless poet, my clown, what need have I now for music? Your father whistled haunting melodies to me once, when I was young and lovely, and I would hum them back to you as you suckled greedily at my breast, to put you to sleep so your father could have his turn.  If I want songs I can go listen to the senseless yammerings of the forest birds. My days are too short and my dreams too empty as it is.

    When you are gone the next morning, I turn the little device over in my hand, recalling your tales of talismans and triumph with a sour smile. I take the beads you brought me, and string them on my old blue ribbon, wrapping it around and around the delicate wooden frame.  A few early jonquils stuck here and there give a festive look.  The blacksmith believes me to be a hedge-witch, and has been pressing me to supply him with love charms.  Surely he will exchange this pretty bauble for a sharp axe.  Who knows, it might even work.

    You return to me again, only eight days gone. I am chopping at a dead tree with my new axe, pleased to depend no longer upon finding sticks on the ground. You are running through the trees, pale hair streaming behind you, something clutched against your chest.  "The axe!  Give me the axe!" you shout, shoving a squirming hissing bundle into my arms.  Snatching the axe, you whirl about to face the path to our house.

    I look down and see that I am holding a goose. It pecks at me.

    "She betrayed me!" you say, voice raw with fury and hurt.  The goose? No, the giant's woman.  She had assured you that everything in that fine house should be yours.  That you should eat at the giant's table.  Wear his clothes.  Sleep in his bed.  She took your hand, you tell me trembling, and brought you to his rooms with silk soft words, promising to uncover his most secret treasure.  

    O my wounded innocent, my dupe.  I hear the axe sing like a harp as it slices through the air, chopping your story into slivers. You asked her instead to take you to the giant's larder.  So that you might share his delicacies with me, foraging too long in the dirt and the muck. The giant's woman flushed red and hot and sharp, answering that she'd as soon give you a goose that laid golden eggs as provide a feast for the harlot of the woods.  

    Your eyes flicker with hot angry flames as you repeat her words. Do you believe that they shall burn me?

    When you asked to see this goose, she laughed at you. She pointed to the kitchen gardens, where the chickens wandered foolishly, and she laughed and laughed, and then the giant returned.

    Stop thief she shouted, and he lunged for you. You ran, you say, and you ran, and as you ran she grabbed shrieking at the giant, and you ran.  In the yard you saw the goose, the golden goose, and you snatched it and you ran. And now the giant is running too, running after you, coming for you.  Coming for us.  Down the forest path to our little hut.  "I'm sorry, I'm sorry," you cry, "I will protect you," and O my brash brazen boy, my hero, you are weeping and angry and confused and terrifying, and I lift the axe from your hand.

    I say something.  "Take this wretched bird into the house and shut the door." And I turn and I wait for this giant.

    I stand ready, axe held level.  I shall chop down that strangling vine you have been climbing.  I shall hew it out, root and branch, and no clinging tendril shall remain to claim you. I shall bite deep with my blade until the sap gushes out sticky and wet, and washes away any hidden thorns.

#

    When I come back inside the little house, you sit still and huddled on your bed.  Your eyes, your golden eyes, are bright and full of tears and terror, not dark and empty like your father's are now. "You were a great lady once, mother," you whisper to me. "You were a queen in a splendid castle."

    I say nothing. But I nod, and hold you close until you fall asleep against me.  When your breathing is slow and soft, I go back to my small garden, and finish weeding among the pushing green that reaches already to my knees.  Later tonight I will take my axe and strike the goose dead.  It would be wiser, I suppose, to keep it for the eggs, but I can render the carcass for the good yellow fat instead.  I will make you many dip candles, O my treasure, O my song, O my prince, my son, and they shall burn clean and bright; and you shall scribble out your stories by their golden glow for many months to come.

    Besides, goose broth will taste well with these beans.

[elareine]

Fic Masterpost

For a masterpost of my tumblr ficlets, see here.

Note: I’ve added fics with multiple pairings to every relevant category.

Jason Todd/Tim Drake

Secret Witness (34k, ao3) CSI except with ghosts. WIP. 

A Hope Like You (12k, ao3) A/b/o with single dad Jason and identity porn. WIP. 

Silver and shadow and vision of things not seen (8k, ao3) WW2 and post-WW2 urban fantasy noir. WIP.

Turn yourself toward home (4k, ao3) Retired pirate seeks retired navy officer.

The space between us (8k, ao3) Mr. & Mrs. Smith in space.

Hold me (like you held on to life) (6k, ao3) Vampire sex to spite the parents.

If I know you (4k, ao3) Annoyed witch cares for sleeping prince.

Lifelong learning (5k, ao3) College, but it’s not an AU.

safe with me (14k, ao3) Figuring out intimacy, with a dash of d/s.

Ornamental (2k, ao3)  Christmas party butt plug fun.

Far away (1k, ao3 I tumblr) + So close (1k, ao3 I tumblr) Tim’s in space and then he’s not.

Like no other pain (2k, ao3) Soulmates, but Tim makes it angsty. 

If I had a type (then baby it would be you) (1k, ao3 I tumblr) One-night stand with surprise bondmark.  

The Sacredness of Tears (13k, ao3)  Tim gets the ability to travel through time, but somehow that’s not the main story. 

The Reluctant Brides (13k, ao3) Genderbent regency.

Adamare (9k, ao3 I tumblr: 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7) Harry Potter AU. 

What demons they carry (5k, ao3 I tumblr: 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9, 10, 11, 12, 13, 14) Outsider POV of demon!Tim.

Shelter (19k, ao3) Royalty arranged marriage. 

glaukopis, promachos, atrytone (4k, ao3 I tumblr:  1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7) A god and his reincarnated lover.

Not the hurricane (2k, ao3 I tumblr) Soft handjobs. 

Night falling softly and without mercy (4k, ao3 I tumblr) When you want to marry your bodyguard but are pretty sure he means to kill you. 

Reasons to be jealous (4k, ao3 I tumblr) Unfounded jealousy crack. Side DickDami.

Just a fool for you (6k, ao3 I tumblr) The Regency Daemon Thing. (Part two of ‘foolish, perhabs’)

A fool’s game (1k, ao3 I tumblr)  Outsider POV of The Regency Daemon Thing. (Part one of ‘foolish, perhabs’)

A fool to believe (2k, ao3 I tumblr) Epistolary companion to The Regency Daemon Thing. (Part three of ‘foolish, perhabs’)

Blood will tell (9k, ao3) October Daye AU. 

So easy to begin (4k, ao3) Dealin’ with fear toxin and trauma, a/b/o-style. 

Somebody ring the alarm (2k, ao3) Strangers flirting while undercover.

To love and to honour (6k, ao3) Five anniversaries and a wedding. 

A question of trust (3k, ao3) Jason hides an injury.

The Wedding Job (3k, ao3) Leverage-style heist.

One day the slipper fits (2k, ao3) The perils of not-dating. 

Dick Grayson/Jason Todd 

clock ticking (sudden silence) (7k, ao3 I tumblr) Dick’s soulmate timer is an asshole. 

The stars gaze back (1k, ao3 I tumblr) Stardust AU with more swearing.

In the Shallows (20k, ao3) Celebrity ‘She Loves Me’ AU.

I dream of our story (our fairytale) (1k, ao3 I tumblr)  Epilogue to In the Shallows. 

A revolution is a simple thing (6k, ao3) Anastasia AU.

Dick Grayson/Damian Wayne

Soft, sweet (and never too much) (2k, ao3) Sweet and kinky PWP.

Don't make me close one more door (1k, ao3 I tumblr) Bodyguard AU. Dami goes undercover and develops feelings. 

Misperceptions (6k, ao3 I tumblr) DamiDick-centric compaion to Reasons to be jealous.

Damian Wayne/Tim Drake

These stars will guide us home (2k, ao3 I tumblr) Developing feelings while being far apart.

Vigil (4k, ao3 I tumblr) Injuries, cuddles and feelings. DamiTim, Joyfire+Dick.

That sacred bond (1k, ao3 I tumblr) Fake marriage for the aliens.

Jason Todd/Roy Harper

Winners get road rash with @scootboot97​ (3k, ao3 I tumblr) College AU dorks and oral. 

Of wizards and black knights (1k, ao3 I tumblr) Cyberpunk damsel in not-so-much distress. 

Dick Grayson/Bruce Wayne

Wonder (2k, ao3) Officer Grayson partners up with Batman.

All that's dead and gone and passed tonight (1k, ao3 I tumblr) Hunger Games AU. 

Tim Drake/Conner Kent

Met a boy (cute as can be) (1k, ao3 I tumblr) Summer romance.

Snow comes down in June (2k, ao3 I tumblr) College dumbasses try to stay friends.

Jason Todd/Damian Wayne

That word on your skin (2k, ao3 I tumblr) Getting the same tattoo is one way to ask for a date.

warmth, shared (1k, ao3 I tumblr) Jason’s feeling old and gets cuddles on a mountain.

Jason Todd/Roy Harper/Tim Drake

At its core (1k, ao3 I tumblr)  Considering fatherhood and marriage. 

Turning point (1k, ao3 I tumblr) Cuddles against nightmares, with a surprise ghost.

Other ships (DC)

Vigil (4k, ao3 I tumblr) Injuries, cuddles and feelings. Joyfire+Dick, DamiTim. 

The wonderful everyday (1k, ao3 I tumblr) Flirting in an Ikea. Joyfire.

Down, down (2k, ao3 I tumblr) Prince visits tentacled sea witch. Superbat.

Would make me whole (1k, ao3 I tumblr) Angsty jerk-off session. JayRoyDick.

Promises (whispered, shouted) (1k, ao3 I tumblr) Injuries in the desert with not much hope. JonDami.

Won't you die tonight for love (1k, ao3 I tumblr) Vampire marriage surprisingly includes a third person. DamiJayTim.

You still look like a movie (2k, ao3 I tumblr) High school teachers pine. DickWally, side JayTim.

Spellbound (1k, ao3 I tumblr) Morning after marred by worry about a love potion. Trinity.

Through the night (we'll make it) (2k, ao3 I tumblr) H/C vignettes. Robinpile.

Gen (DC) 

rewind, fast forward, stop (3k, ao3 I tumblr)  Deaged Jason angst. Jason, batfamily.

In silence (1k, ao3 I tumblr) Jason’s telepathy doesn’t help him with Bruce. Jason, Bruce.

A soft place to land (2k, ao3) Trying to get Bruce to retire. Jason, Dick, batfamily.

touched your head gently (felt my heart melt) (7k, ao3) Movie-verse Floyd as a father through the years. Floyd, Zoe, squad. 

Will someone tell me what's going on tonight (1k, ao3 I tumblr) Dick’s OC boyfriend is an asshole, Wally offers comfort. Dick/OC (past), Bruce, Wally

At its core (1k, ao3 I tumblr) Considering fatherhood and marriage. Duke-centric, side JayRoyTim.

Hockey RPF

Sometimes I lie (4k, ao3) An FBI agent and his informant. SidGeno.

Finding Surety  (13k, ao3) Fake Dating. Marner/Matthews.  

Do you know (I still miss you) (6k, ao3) Getting back together with a little help from your friends. Eichel/McDavid. (Part two of ‘Read all about it’)

The name that history wrote (8k, ao3) Harry Potter AU, triwizard tournament. Eichel/McDavid.

the whole world's out of sync (9k, ao3) 13 going on 30 AU. SidGeno.

stellar nucleosynthesis (13k, ao3) Magical realism and truth spells. Danny/Claude.

But you were always on my mind (7k, ao3) Soulmarks complicated by dyslexia.

Feather (9k, ao3) Crimean war magical realism AU. SidGeno.

Other fandoms

starts with truth (MCU, 8k, ao3) If Steve talked to Tony and Pepper earlier about the winter soldier. SteveTonyPepper.

someday my prince will come (X-Men Movies, 7k, ao3) Erik deals with an enchanted forest. Cherik.

Nothing easy worth doing (Power Rangers, 2k, ao3) Superheroing while autistic - pros and cons. 

Shoot me down (Star Wars, 12k, ao3) Kier survives. Everything else still happens. LeiaKierHan.

Ask his mind (ask his heart) (Star Wars, 2k, ao3)  Anakin gets dosed with sex pollen. ObiKin. 

A Woman is Herself (Lady Sherlock, 7k, ao3) Joanna Watson character study. JoannaJohn. 

Will it burn forever (this light) (King Arthur: Legend of the Sword, 11k, ao3) Love spell adventures. ArthurTristan. (There’s a podcast!)

Someday soon (Arashi RPF, 1k, ao3) A glance into the future. Ohmiya. 

With fates to come (D.Gray-man, 1k, ao3) Tikki is Cassandra. TikkiAllen.

Dedication with @magoril​ (FBAWTFT, 2k, ao3) Theseus fixes things for his brother. TinaNewt. 

Shiny things (FBAWTFT, 2k, ao3) Percival gets a service Niffler. Gen. 

[jewishdragon]

What is this Enchanted Forest Chronicles thing and where can I read it??????

OH ANON I AM SO GLAD YOU ASKED! 

Ever wanted a fantasy adventure that turned tropes on it’s head? Wanted a very light story that makes fun of classic fairytales while reveling in their essence at the same time? 

Want a fantasy-comedy story that will have you laughing at every other paragraph bc the humor is ON POINT?

Want a story with evil wizards, good witches, brave princesses, and lots and lots of dragons?

Want a story where a very improper princess volunteers to be kidnapped by a dragon bc she doesn’t want to get married and then goes on an magical adventure to save the dragon kingdom?!

Im sure you do! So please go read The Enchanted Forest Chronicles by Patricia C Wrede! 

the Chronicles consist of 4 books:

Dealing with Dragons

(I love Princess Cimorene so much she is the best)

Searching for Dragons:

(my favorite cover ever, LOOK AT CIMORENE’S CALVES HOLY FUCK SHE BUFF. HER SNARLING FACE SHE IS FERAL AND READY TO KILL SOME SNAKES) 

Calling on Dragons

(Book 3 is amazingly ridiculous and fun ok ok ok) 

Talking to Dragons

(Daystar looks like SUCH A DOPE I DONT UNDERSTAND. How could Cimorene let him outside with that haicut!)

While I recently collected the books on PDF it’s probably best you try to find them in a more… legal fashion. the Libby app often has them, your local library could too! Or look online for the books, physical, audio, and ebook versions abound! 

(but if that fails just PM me i’ll send you the PDFs. I only say this because I’ve bought the books a few times now. I’ve spent the money on them.)

KEEP IN MIND: This series is nearly 30 years old! Not all of it has aged well (there’s a brief section with a character named g*psy Jack, who is a bit of a huckster, which I think is the most egregious part. Aside from that there’s nothing like, racist or homophobic!!! I promise! but you know. 8/10 could use more diversity, but 10/10 for fun fairytale adventure with a boss ass princess leading the way!)

oh and 10/10 for dragon biology. Dragons have little sexual dimorphism and choose their own sex when they go through puberty, and are allergic to wizards

(poor Roxim... )

Oh and Cimorene isn’t the only disappointing princess:

(Cimorene is just the only one who WANTS to be) 

[gt-adventures]

Hey Little SongBird

(SFW GT fantasy adventure short story.)

A Tale of the Mystic Woods 

Staring: Yonah HaEsh the half-giant wizard. and guest-starring Ophir, the mostly human bard. 

Summary: Ophir the bard needs a story to get back in the good graces of the Bards Guild and ventures into the Mystic Woods to find one. And what a story he ends up in! In the clutches of the Great and Terrible Yonah HaEsh. Can Ophir, through story, song, and dance, touch the evil “man-eating” giant’s wicked heart and avoid a terrible fate? (yes of course he can!) 

Warnings: Yonah’s job is to be a villainous fairy tale giant (and wizard). That means the whole “fee fi fo fum” and threatening to eat people routine, and he’s really convincing. At no point in this story does he ever intend to follow through on the threat. ALSO Ophir tells a fairytale that ends slightly gruesomely (I actually changed it to be less so… still) 

---

I hate the stereotype of bards being horny tricksters who use their voices to seduce people into infidelity. Any such stories are complete poppycock and base slander. Bards are more than pretty faces and lovely voices. We are first and foremost story tellers, entertainers! Actors and chroniclers! Often risking life and limb to get you the stories you love so much. Those fancy sword moves and fight dances you see on stage aren’t just for show.  

But still. Going into the Mystic Woods in search of my next story was not a great idea. Solo’ing an adventure into such a dangerous realm was asking for death, with no one around who could tell of it. And yet. I had run out of new material and was desperate. Why didn’t I just purchase rights from another bard through the guild? You might ask. Clever, very clever, but that’s what low rankers do. The apprentices, the journeyors. Not Masters such as I. At least. Not ones who are blacklisted from the guild for not properly crediting a story. How was I to know it wasn’t public domain! It seemed pretty generic to me. 

Another problem with being blacklisted? No one wants to adventure with you. Not anyone high ranking enough to help me anyways. 

Regardless, to earn back my place in the guild I needed a new story, an impressive story. So I gathered my supplies and took the first teleport to the City of Luster, closest city in the Kingdom of Orr to the Mystic Woods. Sure, other cities exist at its borders, but Luster is the only one with a direct path into the Woods. A path that is safe, to a point. 

It’s also a great place to get a few last minute supplies. For example, a small ukulele. My previous instrument, my precious goldenrod Oud, was repossessed by the guild. I needed something cheap and lightweight. And also I was banned from purchasing from most craftsfolk because, and I’m sure you’re tired of hearing this, im Blacklisted. 

Luster is so large that I was able to find the ukulele in a pawn shop. I wasn’t after a ukulele, that’s just what was there. 

Right! I was ready to go.  

Whistling the first ever song I wrote, and tuning my new old ukulele, I set off down the road. 

And Into the Woods. 

---

Maybe I should lower my standards? Surely the guild won't be too hard on me?

Or perhaps it would just take more than a day and night in the woods to find a story. 

The first day I found some gnomes preparing for a small feast of the half-moon glory. I was confident that something would happen at the party. Something had to go wrong, and maybe a hero, maybe I, would save the day! Or night, as it would be night. No such luck, it was a very nice celebration, absolutely no issues. Wasted a day!! 

Not that i'm on a time limit. 

The gnomes were so nice, and they made the most delightful floral scented cakes. They enjoyed my songs and tales about heroic gnomes and I left their camp with a flower crown and a sack of cakes. 

I felt like today I would find a story! 

Nope. 

In this forest of wonder and magic and monsters and secrets, I ran into nothing. I even played music to attract trouble but Nooooooooo, guess even the beasts of the woods knew I was blacklisted! 

It was late afternoon when I found some interesting deer tracks and decided to follow. 

Bards aren’t known for our stealth but I’m going to tell you a secret. What’s the guild gonna do! Blacklist me? 

Anyways the secret is: certain Bards learn to play notes and pitches that cancel out our footsteps and create silence. 

I followed the prints to find a small herd of very interesting deer! 

They had really interesting patterns, each one slightly different but only if you looked closely. That meant I needed a closer look. 

So focused on the deer I didn’t watch my feet and I tripped. The deer ran off. 

“HEY!” a shrill voice called from somewhere in the trees, “What did you do that for?”

No idea who was yelling at me but I was taking no chances, and like the deer I bolted. But not fast enough, not nimble enough. 

An arrow shot by my leg and stuck in the ground. I stopped. And stood perfectly still. 

“idiot.” the voice was now right behind me! 

I turned. And looked down. It was an elf! With plum purple skin and dark green hair. 

And they were laughing. 

Then another elf fell from the trees to land silently next to the first. This one had dark green skin and straw yellow hair. Their long ears were standing straight up reaching higher than my eyes. 

They were laughing too.

“What’s so funny?”

“You responded to ‘idiot’!” Said the purple one. 

Ugh. Elves!!

Then they got suddenly more serious. 

“Can’t believe it! We’ve been hunting those deer for days and you happen to trip when we got them in our sights!”

“I’m, sorry?” 

The second elf elbowed the first, “he couldn’t have known we were there, Damian! Not his fault!” She spoke in elvish but I’m fluent. 

The first elf, Damian, looked up and half groaned half sighed, “and I suppose, Bridget, that I should apologize to the human for almost shooting him?”

I don’t know why I spoke up but I did. 

“It was an impressive warning shot!”

Damian’s ears stood up again then folded back and a little red flush appeared on the purple cheeks. As did on Bridget’s but for a different reason. 

“Yes. Warning shot,” they said. 

This time I managed to keep my mouth shut. Not a smart idea to quip about an elve’s bunting prowess. I still wasn’t happy to learn they were trying to shoot me! 

“You’re an adventurer?” Asked Bridget.

“A bard!” I said.

“Need a place to stay tonight?”

The shadows were lengthening, I hadn’t noticed. And then my stomach growled. 

“I sure do. But are you sure? I mean I did scare the deer-“

Damian shouldered their bow and nodded, “It wouldn’t be very elven to leave a stranger in the woods.”

Even not hunting they moved so silently I couldn’t take my eyes off them as I followed them to their village. We stopped by the temple, as it is the respectful thing to do when entering the village. It was set up for fall, done up in browns and oranges and paper chains. On the altar was a single brown leaf. The first one seen by a member of the village. 

I’m not elvish but I still prayed to Autumn for my hometown to have a bountiful harvest. 

I sat on the floor in the common dining hall as my new… friends, sat on stools made of tree stumps. They may not have caught any deer but there was some sort of roasted meat concoction wrapped in sugary leaves, crystallized to give it crunch, making a sweet and savory combination I’d never experienced before. The same sugar crispy leaves were used to scoop a sort of nut and vegetable curry. Delightful! I could write a song just about the food. 

I of course told them why I was in the woods, since they were curious. 

And they told everyone how I tripped and fell, exaggerating it greatly. All the elves laughed but knowing elves I was better off. They enjoyed slapstick comedy. The fact that I was able to laugh at myself seemed to gain me favor. 

One elf, with lighter green skin and dark brown hair laughed like the rest and yet, their eyes were deep in thought. They were a strange one, I think. Even by elf standards they had a strange name. 

Jacuzzi? Who names themselves jacuzzi?

Then they spoke. 

“So, you need a story?” They asked. I nodded.

“I think I can help you,” they said, “at the very least point you in the right direction.” 

At their words a lot of the company got quiet. 

“If you’re that desperate, there’s,” they paused, as if they were still considering whether or not to tell me, “A wizard. If you encounter him, you’re sure to get a proper story.”

I couldn’t think why this made the elf act so strange, plenty of mages made it their job to participate in tales. Though. With wizards they were usually evil, if not a member of an adventuring party. Nonetheless! A story about a wizard sounded fantastic. 

“Where does-“ I stopped myself from finishing that stupid sentence. Nowhere in the Mystic Woods stayed put so asking for directions was complete folly. 

“What’s the best way to, uh, find him?” 

Jacuzzi shrugged “The birds have the most up to date information. But you’ll know it’s his place when you find the tower in the garden.”

Lots of wizards had towers, few had gardens. That was more of a witch thing. 

“He’ll be there? Tonight”

“Probably, he can't- well he’ll be there. If not tonight then by the morning. Don’t mess with his things.”

“Why-”

“He considers it extremely rude-  You don't want to be rude”

Sound advice. 

“Hold on tonight?” Damian re-entered the conversation. “Are you mad? Traveling the forest at night is dangerous! Especially alone.”

“So? I’m trying to get into trouble. Doesn’t make a difference if I find it at the tower or on my way.” 

My confidence wasn’t entirely fake. I had a good meal, I wasn’t tired. I could knock this out by morning! 

“Thank you, for everything.” 

I swear I heard giggling as I departed. If these elves were pulling one over on me well! I don’t know what I would do but I’ll think of something. I had a wizard to find. 

It wasn’t long before I realized why I should have waited for morning. 

No! Birds! 

From Who could I ask directions? The sun was about to set. It was only early autumn, the days were still a decent length, but it would be dark real soon. No birds, no people. 

Wait. I spoke too soon. There were footsteps. It was a slim chance but maybe they could help me. 

“Young man, what are you doing? Don’t you know it’s dangerous to be out at night alone?”

The voice had a deep and soft quality that wasn’t human. But they were speaking Orriandish. Really folks, dont meet strangers in the forest that you can’t see. They’re usually evil witches or sorcerers or cyclops ogres. Yeah, one-eyed ogres are skilled talkers, luring people to them. It was only after I answered I realized this could be an ogre. 

“Aren’t you out alone too?”

“Why yes-” the voice was closer and then I saw them. 

Thankfully it wasn’t and ogre. But it was a witch, and a dwarf one. Uncommon. Probably not evil. It did explain why they were confidently out at night. Dwarves had pretty amazing night vision. They had the traditional black robe and hat, and a cat sat down beside them. It was a really large cat, which was amusing next to the short witch. Their long braided beard was decorated with trinkets, which was a quaint look I must admit. 

“But I live here.”

I stood up straight, which I guess was a bit rude. 

“How do you know I don’t?” I stammered, “I could!”

The dwarf stroked their beard, “I guess it’s possible, do you?”

I sighed and slouched, “No…”

“But I am looking for trouble.” I explained my story and the dwarf listened, smiling kindly. 

“So the elves told me I would be guaranteed a story if I found this wizard who has a tower and a garden-”

The witch’s eyebrows raised. 

“- you know this wizard?”

The cat mrowed loudly, his tail swishing on the forest floor a bit faster. 

“I do indeed,” there was an extreme fondness in their voice. 

“And you know where he is?”

The witch laughed, “I’d say this was coincidence, but in these parts there are too many of those to be truly coincidental. I do in fact know the currently location, and it’s close by.”

“Really!” I almost danced with excitement. 

Unlike the elves the dwarf had no hesitations. They pointed me in the right direction, and informed me of a few roadblocks and landmarks. 

“Thanks so much!” I waved back at them and didn’t look where I was going and almost tripped. 

Almost. 

“And light your lantern!” 

Oh right, duh! 

Finding the tower was easy with the witch’s directions. They’d even told me the thorns were fake and the vines safe to climb up. That should have raised red flags, or some color, but I was so focused on achieving my goal. 

Now, we bards aren’t really known for our… physical abilities beyond dance. We can fight sure, but a fifty-foot climb is gonna leave most bards gasping for breath. I'm proud to say I was merely on the cusp of wheezing, though I was having difficulty standing. 

I needed to rest. So I lay on the windowsill. 

Which I failed to notice stretched so that I could more than easily lie down.  The cool night air and stone felt so nice. I looked into the tower. 

And my heart stopped. 

I’d gotten a brief glimpse before nearly passing out, but it was different now. 

Exactly the same. 

But. 

Bigger. 

You might know, my readers, that wizards are all human. All of them. Non-humans aren’t allowed to attend the academy. I’m sure those like I, being a quarter fairy, might be let in, but... This- this giant sized workshop didn’t make any sense. A giant could not be a wizard no way. Why would the elves say this was a wizard’s tower? Did they not understand the difference between wizard, witch, and sorcerer?

But the dwarf witch, they had to know! They had not corrected me. Plus, the workshop did have a very wizard feel to it.

What was going on here? 

I needed a moment to process so I rolled over to look outside. Looking inside made my head hurt. 

But a Giant Wizard. If that were real, what a story! If it were fake, then well, a giant mage is still exciting. I looked once more into the room. Three desks, one for material prepping and alchemy, one that looked like the main workbench, and one… like a spare workbench? It was not very organized compared to the other. And shelves full of things I could not identify. 

And on the floor, an open trap door with stairs leading down. Down to where the wizard must be. 

I was thankful I had noticed the shift in scale, or I surely would have fallen 15 feet onto the floor. Instead I got out my grappling hook and rope and rappelled down. With a flick, the hook dislodged. This place was large, I would need it again. 

I could have spent hours in this room, just taking in the immense magical collection, but that wasn’t why I was there. And I heard noises from down the stairs. Water? Clinking metal? I took each stair one at a time, slowly making my way deeper into the tower. 

Either the kitchen just happened to be one floor down or this stairwell was enchanted to take you to the floor you were thinking about. For just as I reached the landing I saw the massive doorframe that led into what was clearly a kitchen and small dining room. Small for the giant, who was at the sink washing pots, pans, and other things. 

He certainly looked like a wizard! A tall wide brimmed hat with a curling point, and robes that matched the garish colors and patterns. He had a neatly trimmed goatee and mutton chops, and long curly black hair tied behind his back. On his handsomely large nose rested thick square spectacles. Not only was he tall, he was just plain large. 

I know I talked about the false stereotypes of bards, but we weren't the only profession with them. People tended to think of Wizards as more delicate, as they spent all their time studying, never going out, forgetting meals. But this, man, for he looked more human than giant except for being over 20ft tall, well the only word for it was burly. 

I’d never imagined a wizard who, if you removed his wizard robes, put him in a flannel shirt and handed him an axe would be a picture perfect lumberjack. Now such a wizard was right before my very eyes. 

Suddenly I was not so confident. I should have lost my nerve back at the window, when I saw the scale of the workshop. But it just didn’t hit me until I saw the giant. I’ve seen giants before, they are actually larger than this person, that made him seem more dangerous. 

Oh. 

Oh no. 

This wasn’t just any wizard, or any giant. 

This one was evil. 

Maybe I could just leave! Yeah. I would just get the fuck out of here. I was not prepared to handle an evil giant wizard. 

I made my decision a bit too late. The giant stopped cleaning a plate to look up and sniff the air. 

Shit. 

It was futile to run, but it was my only option. I didn’t even make it up two stairs before the giant roared with delight. 

“FEE FI FO FUM!”

No no no! Not that! 

“I SMELL THE BLOOD OF THE HUMAN KIND!” 

Well technically I was quarter fairy but-

“BE THEY ALIVE OR BE THEY DEAD, I’LL GRIND THEIR BONES TO MAKE MY BREAD.”

Yeah… I should not have come here. Evil giants tend to eat people. I’d had a small hope that this smaller giant, who was very likely a proper wizard, wouldn’t. Also the line about grinding my bones to make bread? I’m no alchemist but I dont think powdered bones make for a good flour, and wouldn’t even be enough to make bread for a giant if it were! As far as I knew giants didn’t bother with such things and just gobbled people up. 

Which didn’t bode well for me as this giant made it stairwell in a few seconds and scooped me up in one hand, holding me up to his face. 

“How convenient, a tasty little thief” he smiled, revealing very giant-like fangs. His breath was horrible. “I was just thinking I needed some dessert.”

“Please! Mister Wizard, I did not steal anything, I am no thief! I’m a bard!”

The giant raised his eyebrows, but did not set me down, instead he turned and walked back into the kitchen. 

“A bard?” he asked, “what’s your name?”

“Ophir Shel Peh!” I said. 

“Not Jack then?” The giant tapped his chin, and his eyes found my ukulele. “Hm. Yes I would say you probably are a bard! I don’t get many of those.” 

He sat at the personal dining table. And set me in front of him, putting his elbows on the table, and his chin over intertwined fingers. It was silent except for his breathing, and my heart in my ears. Every breath he took blew around me, and it was just a little warmer than I expected. He didn’t say anything for a long time and I started shaking, adding my rattling bones to the noise. 

“Why are you here?” he asked before I fainted (I had… somehow forgot about breathing). 

“Adventuring!” I couldn’t say ‘for a story’! THAT’S CHEATING. But perhaps... Ah I can’t lie to you reader. I wish I could say I was perspicacious enough to consider this giant was a professional fairytale villain. But I had no idea. I was damn lucky he was though. And he’s really good. I understand why His Mystical Majesty hired him. 

Let’s get back to me being a complete dumbass shall we?

The giant’s face hardened and I worried I’d fucked up. 

“Adventuring?” he asked rhetorically, but I nodded, then he looked a little morose. 

“Shame, I was thinking of letting you go-”

He was!?

“-But I guess I have to eat you after all.”

He didn't sound at all troubled by it. I mean, he had threatened to do so. I backed up and he smiled, knowing he could snatch me up no matter what. I think he could tell I was going to ask why, even just to stall. 

“It’s nothing personal, I don’t like intruders on my good days. But I can’t have you out there talking about me, spreading the word of a merciful giant. You’ll only get more people killed. ” 

That was a lot to process but I got the gist. 

“I won't talk!”

He stood up and slammed his palms on the table so hard I finally fell down. 

“You’re a bard, it’s your job!” 

Unfortunately he was right. 

Then he looked a bit surprised by something, narrowing his eyes at me. 

“I suppose,” he said, “your job also involves performing?”

I nodded. 

“I don’t get to go out much,” he said, though I wasn’t sure that the entire truth “If you give me a good show, I might consider it payment for what would have been an extra special treat. I can smell the fairy blood on you.”

I tried not to make a face. My fairy blood made me smell better? Great. And there was always a chance he was lying, just to get a show and his dessert. Evil giants might be fairly honorable, but evil wizards were notoriously dishonest. So I had no idea with this evil giant wizard. 

“Wh-what do you want me to do?” I asked. 

He sat back down, perfectly copying his original pose. 

“Tell me a story,” he said. “And perhaps I will not eat you.”

Great. Legally there weren’t many stories I could tell. You might be asking, ‘Ophir! You’re about to die, what do you care?’ Well if I live and I'm found out, I’ll be expelled from the guild for life. I’m already in hot water. 

That… and the only stories I could think of were ones with evil wizards or giants, who ended up dead. Curse my stupid brain. But I couldn’t refuse, he would eat me! Guess I had no other choice. 

[(adapted from a real tale)

The story of Maestro Lattantio and His Apprentice Dionigi. 

It was an old tale, from the long dead kingdom of Italy, so anyone could tell it. A wild tale of a wizard and his apprentice battling it out in ways only two mages would. Wanting to be free of his abusive master, Diogini kept turning into things, animals, creatures, to escape. 

But Lattantio would transform into the exact creature or monster or animated object needed to re-capture Diogini. Eventually Diogini turned into a fish and swam down a river. Lattantio declared that he was through with these games and would kill him. Lattantio turned into a kingfisher hawk, intending to snatch him out of the water, but Diogini jumped into a basket carried by a handmaiden  for the princess. The handmaiden had been doing laundry, so being a fish wouldn’t do. He turned himself into a beautiful ruby ring. The princess found it in her pocket and he became her new favorite piece of jewelry. 

Then one day, the King became ill, and Lattantio was called in to cure him. He did of course, and in payment, asked for the princess’s ruby ring, for he could tell it was Diogini. But he could come back tomorrow for the payment 

That night, when the princess took off the ring, Diogini transformed back into a man. He apologized for his ruse, and explained that the wizard Lattantio was his enemy, and would do anything to get him back into his clutches. The princess, who at first was horrified, saw that Diogini meant her no harm, and he was as handsome a man as he was beautiful a ring. She asked how she could help. 

The next day, when Lattantio returned, the princess stepped forward and held out the ring. Then dropped it to the floor. It turned into a mouse, so of course, Lattantio turned into a cat. The princess whistled to one of the palace dogs, which leapt at the cat, breaking its neck. 

Diogini quickly returned to human form and separated the dog from the cat’s corpse, tossing it into the fire. The only way to be sure the evil was truly destroyed. 

Impressed by Diogini’s skill and at the behest of the princess, the King was happy to make Diogini the court wizard, and his son. 

]

I concluded the story, and looked at the giant, distressed to find he looked unimpressed. 

“That was,” he waved his hand in a dismissal manner, “diverting, but I could just have easily read that story.”

WHAT! I’d done voices! I was dramatic and expressive! How dare he say reading it from a book could be the same! But I couldn’t be angry because I was scared. 

“Though I suppose it was decent,” he continued, “just not enough to keep you alive.”

Crap.

“Dance for me,” he said, “and perhaps I will not eat you.”

It took me a few seconds to notice he wasn’t eating me, but instead was giving me another chance. But… Dance!? On this table? With my leather boots on? And my thick pants? And no music!? This was not good. 

“S-sure” I said, I was still shaking badly. 

Since there was no music I thought perhaps, something that conveyed real meaning through motion. I could hear the song in my head at least, so I wouldn’t falter or look like I was making shit up. 

I leapt and gestured, and waggled my body in the most embarrassing ways.  

“What is this crap?” said the giant after I had danced for only a minute. 

“Interpretive dance, mister giant,” I said, freezing in a most uncomfortable pose. 

“You’d better pick something else,” he said. “And give it some more personality”

All I knew was he had given me a second chance. Ok. So I didn’t have music, but maybe something rhythmic would be better. I didn’t have the right shoes but my footsteps were still very audible. 

So I went into a new dance. Hopping and stomping and tapping my feet. Then I started singing. I had been so stupid that I forgot I could do both at the same time. I basically re-invented a few ritual dances from my hometown, used to bless the beginning of each month. If I lived through this I would go home and teach everyone. 

The giant Watched me carefully from behind those huge glasses. Judge, jury and executioner. 

Finally I was sore and out of breath, jumped up to land with a mighty THUNK, ending the performance. 

The giant looked a bit sorry now. Why would he look sorry!?

“That was very impressive, and your singing was a nice touch, but I think such things would best be done with a group. Alone it was underwhelming.” 

What did he know! I’d danced my freaking ass off! I sat down and tried not to cry as I regained my strength. Why weren’t my best efforts good enough!? I was a Master bard. But I was at the mercy of the most subjective critic. I had to change tactics. Impressing him wasn’t going to cut it. 

“Well, since it’s getting late,” he reached out a hand.  

“Wait!” I shouted, nearly breaking my voice which would have been a death sentence. 

The giant’s hand paused, “That was so bold I’m inclined to do so, but not for long.”

“You, liked my singing?” I asked. 

The hand retreated. “You could say that.” Then he caught on. “Fine. One last chance.” 

He leaned back, crossed his arms, and cleared his throat. 

“Sing for me, little bard, and perhaps, I will consider not eating you.”

I scrambled to my ukulele. It was so old it was already out of tune, so I hurriedly tuned it, under the piercing gaze of the giant.  

“Your voice isn’t magical is it?” Asked the giant as I tuned the ukulele.

I smiled “No, it is. My fey ancestry. Never really tested its power. Mostly I’ve transfixed crowds or made them cry with the opening notes. I’ve also played monsters to sleep.”

He leaned forward as I realized my mistake and quickly added “but that doesn’t work if you know about it! Which you now do!” 

Thankfully he believed me. I was telling the truth, but there was no reason for him to trust me. 

“Well, just make it a nice song. I’ve got sensitive ears.”

Oh fantastic. That meant he could probably tell if I went out of key. I had a moment’s thought to play something screeching and horrible, to make him bleed from his ears, giving me a chance to get away, or at least cause him pain before he ended my life. No. My first choice of song was probably the best one. 

I sat down criss cross apple sauce, but back very straight. And I strummed the opening cords. 

[

In the quiet mystic morning  When the sun’s just graced the land O’er the horizon, lies a story And it begs to take my hand

Now that summer’s ceased its gleaming And the harvest’s past its prime In adventure I’ve found meaning But I’ll be homeward bound in time 

Bind me not, to the pasture Chain me not to the town Set me free to find my calling And I’ll return to you somehow

-

As the first instrumental break started I turned my attention to the giant. His face was as stoney as ever.  I wasn’t hitting my mark. So I continued. 

-

If you find it’s me you’re missing And you’re hoping I’ll return To your thoughts I’ll soon be listing  On the road I’ll stop and turn

-

The old strings were threatening to cut into my fingers but I just used the pain to fuel my voice, powering it with agony and sorrow. I saw the giant’s brows raise as my human sized voice grew to fill the giant room. 

-

For the wind has set me racing As my journey now begins To leave the path I’ll be retracing When I’m homeward bound again

Bind me not, to the pasture Chain me not to the town Set me free to find my calling And I’ll return to you somehow

-

The second, and last, instrumental break. I had started crying at the chorus and couldn’t see the giant through my tears. My last performance, and it was for my murderer. 

And still my song rang out. 

-

In the quiet  Mystic morning When the moon has gone to bed When adventure’s lost its meaning…

I’ll be homeward bound

Again

-

My ears were ringing from the sheer volume, I was clutching the Ukulele so hard it threatened to crack. I was numb from all my efforts. Now would be a great time for him to eat me, maybe I would feel no pain. 

Then, as my ears and eyes cleared up, I saw. 

The giant's eyes, red. Shiny trails of tears down his cheeks. His arms were still crossed but he looked like he was almost strangling himself. Still, I did not let myself feel any hope. 

“Dammit,” he hissed and sniffed, “I should eat you for making me cry.” 

No. No no no no no. 

“But I won’t” he sniffed again and got out a handkerchief, “You’ve more than earned your life.”

I collapsed and started crying harder. I had done it. By the gods. I had fucking done it. I let myself melt into the table, half passing out. I didn’t want to feel or think for an entire week. I guess because he wasn’t going to kill me, the giant let me lay there. 

When I finally sat up he was making tea! I very much wanted to get the fuck out of there but the tea smelled amazing, almost magical. 

He noticed me moving. 

“I find tea helps after a harrowing adventure,” he said cheerfully. 

His demeanor was entirely different. His face was softer, his voice was higher, his dark brown eyes colder, but considering they had been blazing before, it was a friendly warmth now. 

That really had been an adventure hadn’t it. One that really made use of my skill set. One that was perfect to turn into a story. It had great pacing too, with just a bit of tweaking. I’d already started writing out the flowery prose and accompanying staging in my head. My interpretive dance was going to be way better in the retelling, but don’t say anything to the guild alright? Everyone embellished. 

I had to scramble away as he set the table, which meant setting down a smaller table and chair for me, and then bringing over his own cup and the teapot. He touched the sides of the pot that must be hot enough to scald skin from bone like it was nothing, pouring out near boiling tea. I watched mesmerized as he used a bit of magic to pour the tea into my teacup. 

“Let it cool,” he said, as he took a drink of his own tea, “I’m not normally a fan of sweetened tea, but I thought a little extra honey would do your throat some good.”

I gingerly stood up and got into the chair. It was normal sized of course, since he was giant. But here I felt like a doll that some demonic girl had set up for a tea party. 

“Thanks,” I said, and indeed my throat felt raw. I couldn’t wait to drink the tea, but it was still too hot. 

“I should be thanking you,” said the giant, smiling and showing off his fangs, but it no longer felt so threatening, “That was quite a show! You must be a really high ranking bard.”

My face turned very red, “I- well I’m on probation,” I admitted, “blacklisted. So really, thanks for-”

I saw his eyes glitter, literally. 

“You- you never meant to eat me did you?”

He grinned even wider, “No, but I trust you won't include that in your tale.”

I shook my head. 

“I very much enjoy playing the big bad giant,” he mused, “But I have other work; I can’t have adventurers showing up all the time.”

Now I was curious, “If I may ask, what else do you do then?”

There was a short pause as he considered whether or not to tell me. I wondered if it was a grand secret. 

“I’m a royal wizard,” he finally said, and there was a massive amount of pride underneath his tone. And resentment. That was concerning. 

My jaw dropped, “You- A Royal Wizard?”

This might be the most interesting person I’d ever met. How did a giant, or giant-esq thing become a royal wizard!? How did a royal wizard end up running an evil tower? 

“You already got one tale, but if you’re not inclined to leave so soon, I can give you another.”

I definitely knew where this was going and I definitely wanted this tale. 

“But on one condition,” he said. “You cannot tell it until either I or the Mystic King is dead.”

“Are- you dying?” I asked. 

He laughed, “No, but I am still a villain. I try to keep a fairly low profile, but any day a slayer could show up and succeed in killing me.” 

That made sense, but now that I was not mortally terrified of him, I saw that this man was much younger than I’d previously thought. He looked barely 24, a young man, and he had to worry about slayers! It also meant it couldn’t have been in this job for that long, being evil must really suit him. 

“Hopefully it won’t be for years, which will give you time to make this tale as grand as possible,” he continued. 

He drank more of his tea.

“I’m not great story teller,” he started off, “but I suppose the tale of how a foolish half-giant with dreams of becoming a wizard, and ending up a prisoner in the woods, might be a good one.”

Prisoner? Even more layers. Yes. This should be a good one indeed. 

Though he was right. Gods, wizards! They have no concept of narrative flow! They don’t leave out details! 

And yet. It was riveting. Yonah HaEsh, for that was his name which I finally learned, was half giant, half FireWitch. His father, the FireWitch, got interested in magic, but he wanted more structured study, beyond what witches can do. So he disguised himself as human to attend school. He was found out eventually, expelled and arrested for infiltrating the kingdom as a dangerous magical monster. He was almost executed before he was offered a job here in the tower! And amazingly, the Grand Master of the school had taken pity on him and allowed him to continue his studies here and graduate, earning the right to call himself a wizard. 

I had forgotten about my tea by the end and it had gone cold. That was an easy fix apparently: he pinched the cup between his thumb and pointer finger. A few seconds later it was steaming again. 

I finally took a sip, it was incredible. I made a mental note to write a poem or a song about it. But I had other things to think about, to talk about. 

“It’s a great story,” I said, with a cockiness I should have tried to keep in check, “but it needs a lot of work. It’s a good thing I’ve got a lot of time. I’ll need to go out and interview people.”

I stood up, “Which means, I need to hear it again.”

Yonah raised an eyebrow, “Oh?”

“I should have been taking notes,” I said, “I need more specific dates and times and names! Oh and if you can tell me how your parents met, that would make for a great prologue.” 

He stood up too, clearing away his and my tea settings. But he didn’t clean them, just put them aside. 

“In that case,” he said, returning and offering his hand palm up, “We should take this upstairs.”

I still hesitated a bit, but I sat on his hand and was transferred to his shoulder. I’d never been on a giant’s shoulder before. I was tempted to touch his curly hair, since mountain giants don’t have hair, I thought it amazing that this half-giant had such thick silky locks. I settled to lean a bit towards his head for steadiness. Yonah didn’t say anything as he regathered the teapot and cups, and even got a few pieces of berry-nut bread and goat cheese. Then headed up to the workshop. 

Once again, he had a human sized desk that he set on his much larger one, and human sized pens (really nice ones), and a few human sized notebooks. Though I guess, since he can reduce to human size whenever he wanted (that was part of his “disguise”), and had many human friends, it made sense. 

“We can go in order,” I said, “But I think I want to start on what you got up to in school. We want people to really get attached to you and your friends so that they are on your side by the trial.”

Yonah liked that idea. I think he wanted this story to show him in a positive light, even if he was officially evil. 

We worked through the night. And my second cup of tea got cold. 

[FIN]

[PLEASE REBLOG and/or tell me what you think in an ask/message!]

FOR REFERENCE, HERE’S HOW THE SONG SOUNDS: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=VooU55wzSEc

Liked this Mystic Woods story? I have more!

For GT ONLY stories: gt-adventures.tumblr.com/tagged/mystic+woods+story

[I have to mention, that I have many more Mystic Woods stories, however those contain safe/soft non-sexual v/o/r/e... But lucky for you! i have filed them them separately! and (when needed) Every story comes with detailed content warnings!]

For ALL mystic woods stories:

vo/re-scientist/tumblr.com/tagged/mystic+woods+story (take out the “/” in vo/re)

[one or two of my GT-ONLY stories are on my not so secret vo/re blog but from now on I’m posting the GT-ONLY ones here! hurray!]

[darkpoisonouslove]

3-7, 13, 16-17, 21, 25-26, 28, 30-32, 36, and 41. (If you're still doing ask thing.)

I’m doing it! Wow, you sent a lot of numbers. Okay XD. Let’s see.

3. if you were any historic trope, what would you be? (i.e., the knight, the town baker, the witch of the forest, etd.)

Totally witch of the forest but if you can also mix writing into that.

4. tell us about your ideal battle outfit.

A body suit that covers everything and is made of very strong materials so that it won’t tear and will protect me from injuries (idk why the hell I would even need a battle outfit, I am not the type of person that goes well with battles). Also, def a headpiece to protect me from head injuries and keep my hair where an opponent can’t grab it and drag me by it.

5. what would you be a god/goddess of and what would people sacrifice to you?

I would be the goddess of forgiveness and people would have to sacrifice their anger and desire for vengeance to me because that’s the only way to forgive and heal.

6. name five iconic quotes that make you feel things.

Time to go through the quote tag, I see. It’s a good thing I’ve been collecting all those quotes. So idk what qualifies as iconic, but here you go - five quotes that make me feel things:

“I am somebody. I am me. I like being me. And I need nobody to make me somebody.” - Louis L’Amour

“Maybe it’s because I take everything as a lesson, or because I don’t want to walk around angry… or maybe it’s because I finally understand.” (I haven’t written down where this is from (pretty sure it was some TV show that I definitely HAVEN’T watched) but it does make me feel a lot of things)

“Love the animals, love the plants, love everything. If you love everything, you will perceive the divine mystery in things. Once you perceive it, you will begin to comprehend it better every day. And you will come at last to love the whole world with an all-embracing love.” - Fyodor Dostoyevsky

“When the whole world is running towards a cliff, he who is running in the opposite direction appears to have lost his mind.” - C. S. Lewis

“Hurt people hurt people. That’s how pain patterns get passed on, generation after generation after generation. Break the chain today. Meet anger with sympathy, contempt with compassion, cruelty with kindness. Greet grimaces with smiles. Forgive and forget about finding fault. Love is the weapon of the future.” - Yehuda Berg

And a little bonus because I had this one in mind ever since the beginning but I got five before I managed to find it:

“She took a step and didn’t want to take any more, but she did.” - Markus Zusak

This really needs a cut:

7. scythe, battle axe, broad sword, spear or trident?

Scythes are cool, but I’m not sure how functional they are. I definitely do not get the trident as a weapon, and spears are not good weapons imo if they’re the only thing you have going into battle. Axes look cool but are a little bit brutal for my taste, I think (though, you’ll be killing people with all the weapons - it’s why they’re weapons!). I think I’d pick a broadsword. That would suit me best.

13. cabin in the woods, apartment in the city or mansion in the suburbs?

I’m a bit torn between cabin in the woods and a mansion in the suburbs. I think I would take a mansion on the very edge of town where there are as few people as possible.

16. describe your ideal fantasy outfit

I really love the look of Regina Mills’ outfits (from OUAT) because she has the dress aesthetic but the skirt is open at the front and she wears pants underneath so that she can ride horses and, generally, be more mobile than a normal gown would allow you to be. I imagine her outfits are also a lot lighter than typical gowns were throughout history. Idk, I really like how that looks. Also, I would love some floaty veils - they look so magical and dreamy.

17. of all the fantasy races to ever exist, which one would you be?

A mermaid. God, what I wouldn’t give to be able to breathe underwater and swim with the sea creatures.

21. an evening in the forest with elves, a night in the caves with vampires or a morning in the garden with fae?

I think I’ll take the evening in the forest with elves. Though the vampires also sound kinda tempting tbh.

25. favorite childhood story? (doesn’t have to be a fairy tale)

It is a fairytale and I do know how it was called but no idea how that will be in English. Anyway, the story was about a king with three sons who sends them on a quest to bring the most beautiful puppy they can find. They have one year to do that. The brothers set out on a journey together but reach an agreement to separate at the inn they’re staying in and meet back there when the year is up. From there on we follow the youngest son who gets robbed and lost and stumbles into a castle in the woods. The door opens but he can see no one. Only floating wooden (I think?) hands that lead him through the castle. Once he’s settled in, they lead him to the owner of the castle who turns out to be a white talking cat. For the next year he stays there and the two of them have all sorts of fun along with all the other cats that live there. At the end of the year, the cat reminds him that he needs to return to his father, and he gets mad at himself because he wasted the whole year and didn’t find a puppy. She gives him a walnut and tells him only to crack it open when he gets back to his father’s palace. He meets with his brothers at the inn and sees what beautiful dogs they’ve found. Meanwhile, he’s brought a dirty mutt that his brothers mock him about. When they go to their father, though, he cracks the walnut open and from inside shows up the smallest puppy that also dances. The king is impressed but decides to give them another task. He tells them to find the finest fabric that can go through the eye of a needle for which they have a year again. The youngest prince returns to the castle of the white cat and spends the next year with her again. Then she gives him… some sort of other nut (I don’t remember what it was anymore) and sends him back to his father. When he gets there, he cracks the nut, but inside there is another nut. And another. And another. Until finally there is an entire piece of fabric in the last one that actually does go through the eye of a needle. Everyone is absolutely shooketh, but the king gives them one final task. He tells them that they need to find wives in the next year and come back to him so that he can decide who will inherit the kingdom. The youngest brother returns to the white cat again and spends that year with her as well. On the last day of his stay she tells him that at midnight he has to cut off her head and her tail and throw them into the fireplace. He starts crying because he loves her and can’t do that but she tells him to trust her and do it. He does and she transforms into a woman. She is the princess of the castle but she and her whole retinue were cursed to become cats (I don’t remember why anymore, the backstory escapes me). He takes her to his father who pronounces him the next king but the cat-turned-woman-again says that she has a kingdom of her own and so they leave the kingdom to his brothers.

Wow, I can’t believe how much I remember from that fairytale. There must have been at least ten years since I’d last read it. Anyway, yeah, I adored that tale and my grandparents and parents weren’t happy about it because it was the second longest fairytale in all the books we had and I made them read it to me all the time. It was my absolute favorite. Damn, i wanna go search for the book and read it now!

26. tell us about an experience you’ve had that seemed unreal or supernatural. (doesn’t have to be scary)

A few weeks ago I saw a cat that had these eyes that immediately let me know that that cat could understand absolutely every word I would say to it. I do think that animals in general understand us but in a reading-our-emotional-state kind of way. Not in a I-totally-get-all-the-words-you’re-saying kind of way. But I’m pretty sure that was exactly what was going on with that cat. It was kinda weird, but not a bad weird.

28. tell us three sayings that you live by.

Ah, goddammit! There are a lot of Bulgarian sayings that fit my views on life but they’re not exactly translatable, y’know?

Treat people the way you want to be treated is one principle that I *try* to follow.

Forgive but don’t forget is another principle that I believe in (I know the original is forgive and forget but I don’t believe in that. And also, remember all those things I remember from that fairytale I haven’t read in years? You think I know how to forget things? I’m a lot better with forgiving, tho, I promise.)

Everyone deserves love is a hill that I will die on tbh. I know it sounds corny, but love is the one thing that can save people and I firmly believe in that.

Not exactly sayings, but close enough for me (hopefully for you, too.)

30. describe your ideal masquerade ball outfit (mask included).

Ehh, I have no idea. It’s gotta be purple and black, tho.

31. splashing around in a river with mermaids or flying through the sky with harpies?

Definitely splashing in a river with mermaids. God, I love mermaids.

32. what would you end up in the dungeon for?

Voicing my opinion. I have literally zero respect for authority. If you’re wrong, you’re wrong and you’d better believe I WILL call you out on it. I don’t care if you’re god or whatever.

36. would you rather be a pirate or a king/queen?

Eh, I don’t know. I really don’t want to be a queen. That’s too much responsibility that I could handle, but I really don’t want to. Can I write if I’m a pirate? If yes, then that’s settled.

41. stained glass windows or fairy lights?

This became long. I’m sorry if some answers are a bit sparse. I just really didn’t know what to do with some of the questions. 😅