ofgeography:

play-read-write:

just-shower-thoughts:

If Snow White literally had “lips red as a rose, hair black as ebony, and skin white as snow,” she’d look like a walking nightmare.

honestly this sounds like the description of a vampire. Which would also explain how she convinced seven dwarves to let her stay with them. How she could control some animals to do her bidding. How she could sleep for a long time without aging. Why the hunter betrayed the queen for her, and why the queen wanted her heart, so she could be sure she was killed properly. 

the first baby is born in may, and dies in his sleep. the second does not make it to term. the third lives for a year before an unknown illness claims him. the queen pricks her finger on a needle: old magic. blood on snow on an ebony windowsill. the wind carries the the contract, and the woods accept. 

blood now must be repaid with blood later, but the fourth baby is a girl, and she lives.

*

she grows slowly, and out of order. first her hands, long and bony; then her arms, thin, hollow-looking. she never looks quite like a child: no chubby cheeks, no skinned knees, no missing teeth. her hair is thick and so black it sometimes seems viscous. her skin is so thin you should be able to see the blood running through it.

they name her snow white, for the fairness of her skin. so fair that she cries when left in the light too long.

*

the queen dies when snow white is four, still small, and beloved. she is not beautiful, her mouth too painfully red, her eyes too liquid dark, her teeth too pointedly sharp. but only those who do not live in the castle think this. to know the child is to love her. to know the child is to want to please her. to know the child is to know that she is precious.

that she must be protected. that she must be obeyed.

“it is not your fault,” the king whispers to the child on his lip, petting her head. “she was not strong enough. i will make sure you never go hungry.”

the child presses her tiny hand against his cheek. “i know you will,” snow white says.

*

peasants begin to go missing. young boys are snatched from the fields. women are summoned to the castle and never seen again.

“gifts,” her father calls them. “eat. you are too thin.”

the girls are always silent, and the boys always scream. snow white hates it. she wishes they would stop, but she is hungry. she is so hungry. and doesn’t she have the right to survive? isn’t she a child, too?

but her mother’s blood is the only food that ever made her feel full. now she can eat and eat and eat and never feel like she has taken a single bite.

she grows thin. the sun becomes too strong for her to go outside.

“a mother’s blood,” the king muses, and sends his advisors out to find snow white a new one.

*

the kingdom has six queens in six years, but no more peasants go missing. it must be something in the castle, they say. some mold. some terrible illness. something that lingers, and kills you slowly.

but snow white grows healthy regardless. she can be seen, sometimes, on the parapets: in the early years she wears a heavy cloak but as she grows it gets thinner, and then disappears entirely.

she is small, and delicate. her laughter, floating down into the village, is silver and gold and painted in eighth notes. it is said that if you look into her eyes you can see your deepest desire. it is said that she will give it to you. it is said that every time a queen dies it breaks snow white’s gentle heart. she shrinks. she hides away indoors. she becomes frail and cannot leave her bed.

so many queens in so many years. eventually, somebody will notice.

eventually, somebody does.

*

“mirror, mirror, on the wall: who’s the fairest of them all?”

you, my queen.

“there are no others?”

there is one other. but she is young. she was made by the forrest. she doesn’t know what she is.

“another? after all this time? where?”

the kingdom of six queens.

“how strong is her heart?”

she is too young to know for certain. but she when she is hungry, she has always been fed.

*

snow’s new mother arrives on horseback. her lips are red as blood, her hair as black as ebony, her skin as fair as–snow’s. 

she marries the king and they spend the night in his chamber. this has never happened before. snow white does not understand. she is hungry. she always gets fed, the very first night. she always gets blood on her gown.

but her father stays in his chamber and does not come out. in the morning, his eyes are hazy and he does nothing but smile. her new mother’s teeth are red.

snow white waits. she isn’t starving yet. surely her father will snap out of it and feed her.

*

“today?” snow white asks, and her father pats her head.

“i will find you a peasant boy,” he says. “a strong one. your favorite kind.”

“that is not my favorite,” snow white tells him. she frowns. he has never told her no before. he, and everyone else, has always done exactly what she wanted. “father, i am hungry. you promised i would never be hungry again.”

she begins to cry, and the hazy look leaves him. he falls to his knees, her face between his hands. “of course,” he murmurs, “of course, tonight, i’ll send her. i don’t know why i didn’t before. i don’t know what i was thinking. tonight.”

snow white kisses his cheek. her red lips leave a print.

*

her new mother does not come. in the morning, her father’s eyes are hazy once again.

*

“father,” snow white begs.

“i promise,” he answers, but he is weak, every night he gives in to weakness because her new mother does not come. snow white is hungry. snow white grows thin. snow white cannot go out into the sun.

*

at last, her new mother comes. she has a plate of food: vegetables, fruit, and a slab of meat.

“eat,” her new mother murmurs. she perches on the edge of the bed.

snow white shuffles away from the sunlight coming through the window. “i’m not hungry,” she says.

“but you must be hungry,” her mother says, smiling. she reaches out to chase the edge of snow’s jaw. “you haven’t eaten in weeks. not even a peasant boy.”

snow white looks up, startled. “they aren’t filling,” snow white says.

“no,” agrees her new mother. “i agree. i prefer kings, when i can get them.”

“i prefer mothers.”

“i am not your mother.”

“then what are you?”

her smile is slow and bitter red. “my mother made the woods a promise, and the promise was me. she did not know that promises must be paid in blood, and sustained in blood, and that the blood was also me. she got what she wanted, and i ate until i was as full as a human could make me.”

“are there others? like you? …. like me?”

“there were,” the queen says. “once, there were many of us, and all of us were starving.”

snow white does not yet understand. “then what happened? where did they go? how did you survive?”

the queen runs a finger along the fabric of snow white’s blanket. her nail rips a line through the thread. “humans are weak, snow white. a thousand of them would not be enough to fill us up. but we are strong. our hearts can sustain a body for a hundred lifetimes.”

her teeth grow long. “i have been hungry for such a long time,” she says. 

snow white understands.

she runs.

*

it hurts: her skin is so hot it is nearly on fire. her feet blister as she runs. she has never been outside of the castle grounds, but the woods are dark and shaded. the shade is like jumping into a pool of water. the red bleeds from her skin, leaving her fair and white once more.

she hides inside the hollow of a tree (the woods created her and the woods will keep her safe until her mother’s debt is paid). she sleeps while the hunting parties pass her by, all but one. he is a huntsman. he knows the woods. he knows the woods have favorites, and protect them; but the woods are old and can be tricked.

he waits.

when she emerges, it is dark. her skin is so white he almost wants to drink it. she is small, her hair so black he thinks she has woven the night sky into it. as he notches his bow he thinks it seems a shame to kill something so beautiful, something so beloved by the woods. the huntsman is loved by the woods, too. he knows how its favorites suffer.

she turns to look at him. when their eyes meet he sees his deepest desires. her eyes promise to give it to him. we are the chosen, her eyes promise, as she approaches and he does not shoot. cannot shoot. cannot look away.

“i am so hungry,” she whispers, reaching out to touch his face. “my father hasn’t fed me.”

“she wants your heart,” the huntsman confesses.

snow white knows that already. snow white is beginning to understand the bargain that her mother made.

“she cannot have it,” snow white says, and her teeth get long, and she eats.

*

“mirror mirror on the wall, who’s the fairest of them all?”

you, my queen. but not for long.

*

part two

(via yea-lets-do-this-shit)

immzies-adventures-through-books:

writing-prompt-s:

Rewrite a classic fairy tale by telling it backwards. The end is now the beginning.

Once upon a time there was a princess who loved so deeply that her heart was worn constantly on her sleeve. She fell in love with a prince, and the next year, her father allowed them to be wed- he remembered his own wife every day, and wished his daughter to be as happy as he had been.

The day of the wedding came, and the girl walked down the aisle in a dress of gentle silver. The Prince took her hand and smiled, and leant in to kiss her.

For luck, he would later say. A kiss for luck, a smile for joy, a laugh for a happy ending. It was a saying his own family had had for years, but it was a saying that failed him.

For the second his lips touched hers, she fell to the floor with a sigh.

Not dead they healers told the prince. not dead but sleeping, not dead but unable to wake.

The prince- so ashamed, so in fear of his life and hers- stole her away from the castle that night, away from her father and her people, so they would never have to watch her waste away.

He hid her in a forest, in a casket of diamond and ice, and he waited. Waited, for he did not even know where to start. He did not even know if the hope for her waking had a point.

He was there for two days when they found him. Seven short folk, small men with beards and axes in their hands, and harsh smiles on their faces.

We can help you they said to him, the six cackling behind the speaker. But, prince, it will come at a price.

I would pay anything. He vowed. Only later, realising he should have asked what it would be.

The Seven disappeared and left him on his own. Alone, other than the silent not-dead princess at his side.

When they returned there was an eighth with them- an old frail woman with a basket in her hands.

We will wake her she said, pulling out an apple and throwing it in their air but you will never look at her, talk to her again, and she will work in the mines with my dwarves here.

He wanted to say no. But knowing she was alive, even out of reach, was better than sleep and near death.

so yes he said. Help her.

The old woman smiled and picked out a knife, cutting the apple into small parts. One, she handed to the prince, the other, she took over to the casket, and opening it, she placed it on the princess’ lips.

A gasp, a flash of her eyes opening, and the prince knew nothing more.

***

The princess woke in a place she did not know, surrounded by people she did not know. An old woman and short men- and her prince, asleep on the ground.

He is not dead the old woman said only sleeping. But around you, he will never wake. He saved you but cursed you both- and now your life is tied to my mines.

The princess tried to fight, to leave. 

But the old woman had magic and she did not, and the dwarves were all she knew for many years. Sometimes as friends, sometimes as enemies, often arguing but always allies, they worked side by sides in the underground mines, looking for fairydust and rubies, magic and gold.

They taught her the songs of work and the songs of marches, and soon she forgot that she had even been a princess.

One evening she was walking back to their home alone, when she heard a noise to her left. She looked, expecting a rabbit, a bird, but out stepped a man with a bow in his hands.

You shouldn’t be out in the woods alone he said to her.

This is my home.

Trees are no home for anyone. She wondered if she should tell him of the many people hidden in the forest, each with no where else to go come with me.

Why?

Because I have a place you can go.

She should have said no- but what was there for her in the trees and the mine? So she took his hand and he led her out into the bright daylight, through winding roads intil they arrived at a castle she did not know.

where are we? she asked.

The Huntsman smiled my home, and the home of my queen.

He led her in through the doors, up to a room where a woman was sat on a throne. The woman stood as she saw the princess, staring at her in wide eyed shock.

You look just like her the queen whispered.

Once, the Huntsman said quietly, seeing the question in the princess’ eyes my queen had a child. A daughter who should have been your age. But she was stolen away by the man my queen loved.

You-

I’m not her  the princess said- but she had never known her mother. Only her father and an empty throne at his side.

No. the queen said, her tone one of disbelief. But I am in need of an heir, and you in need of care. Stay here a while, and let us see.

(via littlestartopaz)

Prince Philip is the most badass prince EVER. And here’s why.

thorneofbriar:

onceyougodutch:

chasertiff:

Okay, so he’s got a girly face, and he wears tights and some high boots. Sure.

But check out that noble steed. That’s one ready-to-kick-ass-and-take-names steed.

While other princesses just run away and leave nothing, Philip gets AN INVITE TO HER HOUSE. He gets a song, a dance, and a first date.

He comes home, just to tell his dad he’s not going to marry the princess because he’s in love.

No. Other. Reason. He rides in and is just like, “I met the girl I’m going to marry. Now I’ve got a birthday party to be at. Bye Dad.”

Now how much do you think his dad weighs? That short fat little man? Probably pretty heavy.Not a problem for Prince Philip.

And then he gets jumped by goblins, both hands tied behind his back

But that’s not enough to stop Prince Philip.Oh no.

He breaks his hands free and starts chucking goblins.

Look at that face. That face. The “BITCH JUST YOU WAIT” face. He may be tied down by a dozen goblins but he’s not gonna take no shit from this witch.

In fact, he’s so strong, she ends up keeping him chained to the wall, but he still fights back.

Now when he finally does get free–

He’s ready to go into battle UNARMED. He don’t need no shield or sword, he’s going to go punch Maleficent’s face in with his fist. If Flora didn’t stop him, he probably would have, too.

Backed up against a cliff edge, nowhere to go. Fighting off goblins. But there’s so many and just one Philip.

NBD I’LL JUST JUMP AND SLIDE DOWN THE ROCK PILE IN MY SKIN-TIGHT TIGHTS.

Gate closing?

who gives a fuck? certainly not prince philip.

Lighting hitting rocks around me?

NBD BRO

Giant forest of thorns?

Bitch, get out of my way. I’ve got a princess to save.

Giant dragon of hell?

CHARGE HEAD ON.

Fire? Dragon? Burning dry twigs? No. Fucking. Problem.

Just smack that bitch on the nose.

Sheer cliff face? Fire burning behind me? Back to a wall?

Calm down guys, I got this.

I’LL JUST FUCKING SCALE IT ONE-HANDED.

And fight the bloody beast from 500 feet high, with literally nothing to save me if I fall.

Lose the shield off the cliff?

JUST STAND THERE AND SMILE ‘CAUSE I’VE GOT A FUCKING MAGIC SWORD THAT’S GOING THROUGH YOUR HEART BITCH.

Just chuck it. Straight through.

Then jump out of the way…

And survive. That’s what happens to bitches who mess with the woman I love.

Get the horse.

Get the girl.

EXPLAIN NOTHING.

that’s how he EARNED his happily ever after.

Srsly. The most bad. ass. prince. disney ever wrote.

I 1,000% never thought of it from this point of view before and am now screaming Too Hot, Hot Damn, Made that dragon wanna retire man.

“EXPLAIN NOTHING”

CLEARLY I need to watch this movie again.

(via windbladess)

rikodeine:

photogenic-falcon:

I came across this very odd pond in a forest

#it’s fucking fairies get away from it

put ur foot in there and you’ll never be seen again 

(via yea-lets-do-this-shit)

idiopathicsmile:

idiopathicsmile:

“So you see,” said the Royal Advisor, wringing his hands, “the curse states the princess will die on the night before her twenty-fifth birthday–”

“Hang on,” said the princess, “‘ON the night before’–”

The Advisor nodded grimly.

“So what you’re saying is that, until that one specific date, I am effectively immortal?”

“Technically yes, but then–” the King stammered.

“Wow,” said the princess, who was sixteen and did not possess amazing impulse control. “I’m gonna go teach myself how to juggle chainsaws while hang gliding over shark-infested waters, catch you chuckleheads later.”

Here’s the thing about curses that most people don’t realize: curses are selfish.

Not the motives behind them—not necessarily, at any rate—but the curses themselves, the nuts and bolts of the magic, so to speak. If someone wraps an enchantment around you, and that enchantment’s sole purpose is to doom you on a particular day and time—the stroke of midnight is pretty popular, for whatever reason—well.

Something that complex and powerful operates according to its own rules. It wants vengeance, and that means doing whatever must be done to ensure that no rival foe shows up at the eleventh hour to steal its thunder. Princess Hammerhands the Sharkpuncher, as she would later come to be known, was an extremely rash and somewhat foolish person, but the “immortality until you die” loophole is real.

Knowing your body will defy death takes some of the thrill out of death-defying stunts, as it turns out. Some, not all. Princess Hammerhands the Sharkpuncher had some good years on the daredevil circuit. She picked up several neat tricks—a good performance wasn’t just about survival, but artistry, she figured. She befriended sword swallowers and fire breathers and professional dragon ticklers. But after three years, she was feeling antsy again.

Keep reading

(via cthulhu-with-a-fez)

mishacakes:

Finally! Here’s my contribution to the Valor Anthology, “Bride of the Rose Beast”. Valor is a book I’m still so happy and honored to be a part of, and you can still get the 300+ page ebook HERE for $5! Enjoy!

(via determamfidd)

kyraneko:

lyraeon:

evil-bones-mccoy:

yourunderwaterskies:

lyraeon:

But what if the princess was in the tower because she was the dragon?

Like the queen gives birth and oops it’s this adorable little scaley lizard with tiny wings that she can never quite seem to fold right

None of the King’s advisors or doctors can explain it, no one can remember anyone who might have cursed the royal family, plus sire she’s clearly yours still I mean look at those eyes

They just kind of accept it and keep her in a tower so no one tries to slay her

The queen or castle servants reading bedtime stories to the toddler princess, who’s made a nest of her favorite toys and some jewelery she stole off her mother, and when she laughs little puffs of smoke come out of her mouth

The king being so proud when she flies across the room for the first time

And once the princess comes of age, confused knights breaking into the tower to find a twenty foot long dragon sitting at the vanity getting her horns polished by her handmaidens

and the “kidnapped” princess is her girlfriend?

this feels like a minotaur myth gone amazingly right.

Okay, who brought this back? Because I haven’t seen notes on this thing in literally months.

She goes flying around the surrounding kingdoms, just watching and listening.

And pretty soon she has a dozen girls sharing the tower with her.

Some were being pushed to marry, or promised in marriage to someone they hated. Some were already married.

Some were poor, or hunted, or enslaved.

Some were thrown out, abandoned, banished.

There’s a princess there, yes, one who would rather sit in the solar and read books than marry a boorish prince and interact with her subjects all day.

There’s a wizard-student who fled her university after one of the professors tried to curse her for disagreeing with him.

There’s a girl who ran away to be a knight, and a girl who was thrown out for being pregnant, and a wife who ran out the door with her toddler carried in her broken arms, her belly swollen and unwieldy, and stories circulate from the bar the next day about how the dragon swooped down and stole away a man’s wife.

Probably ate her, he says. Good riddance.

There’s a formerly-wealthy merchant wife, cast out by her husband in middle age so he can wed someone young and pretty.

There’s an elderly grandmother who’s outlived her family and her usefulness.

A street child, rag-clad and starving. A baby, left abandoned on a hillside.

It begins to filter through the land, spoken from fathers to daughter, husbands to wives, employers to servants: if you are bad, the dragon will take you. if you are stubborn, or willful, or refuse to marry, the dragon will find you. if you are useless, or slovenly, or disobedient, you will be thrown out and the dragon will pluck you up in its claws and take you back to its lair filled with bones.

They do not understand that this is not a threat but a promise.

They do not know that the version their servants tell each other, their wives tell their daughters, their mothers tell circles of friends, is “if you are desperate, the dragon will find you. if you want out, the dragon will rescue you. if you pause outside, and tell your fears to the soft beating of wings somewhere in the sky, you will fly, and the dragon will carry you home.”

There are bones, but they are surrounded by living flesh.

The tower, the Princess’s Tower in the central kingdom, is hidden by the finest spells and left alone by longstanding tradition. The nature of the Princess’s curse is a matter of speculation, but most likely, people say, she is under some fairy’s enchantment, and she will sleep for a hundred years until the right prince finds the way in.

The wizard-student was fairly advanced in her studies, and is quite good at teaching the runaway scullery-maid and the young unmarried mother turned out when her belly showed. The gates to the far reaches of the tower grounds open to a hillside two kingdoms away, and to an alleyway in a major city, and to a deep tideswept cave near a fishing village and a harbor, and to a storage room in the oldest wing of the Princess’s home palace.

The rich former merchant’s wife sorts through the dragon’s hoard of gold and gems, and delivers instructions to the runaway postulant and the worn old farm wife; dressed as a young clerk and a common tradesman, they go to call on this merchant who sets the best prices, and that factor who has misplaced goods available for a low price, and this manufacturer of looms and that seller of books.

The farm wife knows the best sheep to buy at market, the ewes who will bear twins and the lambs which will have the finest wool. Another country over, this time in the company of “his” elderly “father,” she buys cows that will give good milk, and chickens that will lay good eggs.

An elderly wizard visits a university, and inquires after their library; she is let in, and watched as she pages through books filled with arcane topics in languages she can’t understand; back at the tower, the wizard girl and her students capture the pages in a scrying crystal.

A pretty young fishwife smiles at the vegetable-seller as her daughter clings to her skirts, and soon the girls and women of the tower have seeds to plant. Looms hum, and dyestuffs are boiled, and even the poorest in their former lives wear bright dresses, or breeches and tunics if they prefer.

The dragon brings back a pirate woman from the harbor, stolen from the hangman’s noose while the crowd cheers; she knows where there is treasure stored, and soon the young girls have gems to play with, and the girl who ran away to be a knight has someone to learn proper swordwork from.

The little girl whose first flight was in her mother’s broken arms wants to be a blacksmith; when a swordblade breaks, the dragon breathes on it, as long as needed, while the child determinedly hammers it back together.

The dragon princess surveys her kingdom with approval. It is small, and tonight she will fly over a small town, where she heard breaking crockery and yelling last night, to see if someone steps out into the darkness and wishes for a better life, and tomorrow there may be one more.

(via clockwork-mockingbird)

shishitsunari:

delta-hazashiroe:

jbwarner86:

fuckyeahcomicsbaby:

The Girl with the Skeleton Hand

okay but seriously

this is adorable

What a cute story

Omg it’s so cute

(via cthulhu-with-a-fez)

hanginggardenstories:
“ A GUIDE FOR YOUNG LADIES ENTERING THE SERVICE OF THE FAIRIES, by Rosamund Hodge
I.
This is the lie they will use to break you: no one else has ever loved this way before.
II.
Choose wisely which court you serve. Light or Dark,...

hanginggardenstories:

A GUIDE FOR YOUNG LADIES ENTERING THE SERVICE OF THE FAIRIES, by Rosamund Hodge


I.

This is the lie they will use to break you: no one else has ever loved this way before.


II.

Choose wisely which court you serve. Light or Dark, Summer or Winter, Seelie or Unseelie: they have many names, but the pith of the choice is this: a poisoned flower or a knife in the dark?

(The difference is less and more than you might think.)

Of course, this is only if you go to them for the granting of a wish: to save your father, sister, lover, dearest friend. If you go to get someone back from them, or—most foolish of all—because you fell in love with one of them, you will have no choice at all. You must go to the ones that chose you.


III.

Be kind to the creature that guards your door. Do not mock its broken, bleeding face.

It will never help you in return. But I assure you, someday you will be glad to know that you were kind to something once.


IV.

Do not be surprised how many other mortal girls are there within the halls. The world is full of wishing and of wanting, and the fairies love to play with human hearts.

You will meet all kinds: the terrified ones, who used all their courage just getting there. The hopeful ones, who think that love or cleverness is enough to get them home. The angry ones, who see only one way out. The cold ones, who are already half-fairy.

I would tell you, Do not try to make friends with any of them, but you will anyway.


V.

Sooner or later (if you serve well, if you do not open the forbidden door and let the monster eat you), they will tell you about the game.

Summer battles Winter, Light battles Dark. This is the law of the world. And on the chessboard of the fairies, White battles Black.

In the glory of this battle, the pieces that are brave and strong may win their heart’s desire.


VI.

You already have forgotten how the mortal sun felt upon your face. You already know the bargain that brought you here was a lie.

If you came to save your sick mother, you fear she is dead already. If you came to free your captive sister, your fear she will be sent to Hell for the next tithe. If you came for love of an elf-knight, you are broken with wanting him, and yet he does not seem to know you.

Say yes.


Keep reading

(Source: giphy.com, via amusewithaview)

ranbrown:

imageimageimageimageimage

And that’s our complete contribution to Valor!You can buy the complete e-book here.

The End | Patreon | Twitter | Vote for us on TWC

(Source: skullamity, via cthulhu-with-a-fez)