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On the Way pt. 6 Ep 2 (3 of 10) - kleinerHai
#On the Way#kleinerHai#cities#scenery#concept art#characters#travelers#masks#stories#fantasy art#digital art
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Strings And Knots
Draco Malfoy x fem!reader
Summary: Reader makes a bracelet for Draco, and, surprisingly to her, it lasts throughout all their years of Hogwarts.
Warnings: Mention of death, war, murder, suffocation, air pollution, destruction, emotional/physical damage, but overall fluff! (Until the end it’s kinda sad but it ends quite well- just a sad mood.)
Note: I know I did the whole Divination thing wrong since they do it for every month but that’s okay. And I really love this one it’s gotta be in top five favorites! Maybe top three!
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One: The Making
Year: First
Her fingers worked carefully on the thread, the rough texture feeling slightly scratchy against her fingertips. Her hands were red and almost dry, twisting them together before pulling the knot up, securing it as it joined the design she was creating.
She wanted it to be perfect, despite her just learning about a week ago, but each day she practiced a bit and she could tell she was slowly improving.
She grumbled when the strings tangled together and she once again separated the colors. She could use magic, her wand sitting on her bed on top of her Charms and Potions book, but she made it her personal mission not to use the wand, for she wanted it to be made by her very hands, that way the finishing product would be much more meaningful; to her and to him.
Her fingers burned and the tips turned red as she tied the finishing knot at the bottom, taking a pair of scissors afterward and snipping the axis thread, the extra string flying off the once was connected bracelet and landing on her robes. This time she did use the wand, pointing them at the strands and made them disappear with a flick of the tip.
-
“Good, you’re here, look what Potter is doing, hanging around that giant again; honestly, how could you tolerate-what are you doing?”
She was half listening, her fingers focusing on tying the bracelet she made around Draco’s wrist. He made a face she didn’t see, taking his arm to his eyes once she was finished.
“What’s this rubbish?” He snarled, eyes looking disgustingly at the thread on his wrist. The girl rolled her eyes, being used to his on-the-daily-attitude.
“It’s not rubbish,” she protested. “It’s a bracelet. A friendship bracelet to be exact.”
Draco still didn’t wipe the disturbed look off his face, looking down at the thread with uncertainty.
“Look, I have one too; just switched colors.” She said, showing her own by pulling up her robe sleeve, hoping to assure him that out of the two of them he wasn’t the only one wearing a bracelet.
He looked at hers, something in his eyes that she couldn’t read. “Well? What does it mean?” He asked, still looking at the strands on his arm.
The girl shrugged even though the meaning of them meant everything to her. “It represents friendship. Ya ever heard of it?” She asked, a teasing glint in her eyes as she looked at him.
He scowled. “Of course I’ve heard of friendship. We are friends, aren’t we?”
She smiled. “Yeah, why do you think I made it for you?”
Draco rolled his eyes. “Well I will admit I like being friends with you but I’m not sure about walking around with this on my wrist.”
The girl looked down at the bracelet she made herself, the strands not seeming so exciting and meaningful anymore, they seemed to be mocking her now, screaming at her that Draco wouldn’t want to wear some silly bracelet.
“Right…” She whispered, chest squeezing. Draco scoffed, leaning over and picking up her chin with his index finger. She looked at him, eyes uncertain and anxious.
“Doesn’t mean I won’t wear it- at least it matches my robes.” He stated, looking down at the green thread and then at the knitted badge of Slytherin on his chest, mouth twitching but she could tell it was his form of smiling. Her lips stretched wide, eyes sparkling. This time his grin broke, but it was small, nice and toothless.
Two: The Sighting
Year: Second
“Snape assigned another essay, I can’t believe it.” She complained with a light scowl in her voice, plopping her books down on the table beside the fireplace, sitting down on the emerald green couch, the surface silky beneath the skin of her hands. Draco grumbled in agreement to her protests, eyes scanning the paper of the Daily Prophet. She always thought it was interesting, him being so young and reading all those kind of grown up things about the Ministry. But it came with an upside: she could always get updates from him about what was currently going on in the Wizarding world. She leaned forward, finger tapping his knee lightly.
“Anything good today?” She asked, neck craning to meet his face behind the stack of papers, moving pictures all around the pages. He shook his head, folding the Prophet up carefully before throwing it onto the table, right next to her textbooks.
“No,” He replied. “And I bet there is, just wait till my father tells me. And that Chamber, he never tells me anything these days.”
It was her turn to agree with a complaint between the two of them.
“Well, there’s nothing we can do, right?” She tried to assure, but Draco wasn’t one for the ‘look on the bright side’ pep talk. She always knew that, but what she also knew was that it was worth a try.
“I wish there was something I could do.” Draco snarled, lips twitching irritably. She smiled lightly, getting off the couch and sitting the floor, pulling her parchment out with a quill and ink bottle.
“How ‘bout that essay, mm?” She hummed, voice smooth and he nodded, still looking like his head wasn’t with her. She watched him as he looked at of the window for a moment, the tallest one in the Common Room, the evening sun providing a warm glow to the space. His hand went to his head, lightly scratching his ear, when she then noticed the worn out thread on his wrist, green and slightly dirty, displaying its age. She smiled. “You’re wearing it.” She noted, and watched as his head snapped to her, eyes moving from the knotted strings to her face.
“Well we are friends, aren’t we?” He replied like it was a silly observation, shrugging half-heartedly but something brewed in her chest as he joined her, getting his things out for the essay they were about to write. It was something her young self wouldn’t be able to recognize, but it was similar to when her mother smiled at her in the morning, or how her father kissed her hair before leaving for work.
Her older self would know, oh yes, and that older mature young lady would call it love.
Three: The Teasing
Year: Third
“No.” Draco’s voice burst out as she hovered a very reactive ingredient over the cauldron, the potion brewing inside just the right temperature for him to add the alligator heart, dropping a few chunks inside. She grimaced in disgust.
“I was joking.” She then insisted.
“No you weren’t.” He instantly said, looking at her as a way to say “try me”.
She snorted, cutting up an herb he gave her. “I wasn’t actually gonna do it.” She tried to convince, yet he wouldn’t take her excuses, shaking his head.
“Yes you would; then we would end up like Seamus.” Draco responded and she chuckled, looking down at the herbs again so she failed to notice the soft smile on his lips.
“Got a friend, Malfoy? Who’s the lucky person?” Pansy’s voice suddenly broke out, and, the two Slytherins turning to her, saw her long skinny finger pointing at Draco’s wrist, a teasing glint on her face. Draco scowled at her, shooting her daggers with his grey eyes.
“Shut up Parkinson.” He spat, and she shut right up, cheeks flushing. “Not like you have any friends, bet you wish you did, don’t you?”
Pansy’s eyes glossed over but neither of them seemed to take care to it, yet the girl felt a small, very small I tell you, peck of empathy.
Pansy dismissed herself from the classroom right then, crying her eyes out.
The girl turned to Draco. “You didn’t have to be so harsh, ya know.” She whispered. She saw him look at her.
“Yeah I did. Surprised she didn’t say anything about yours.” He said softly, nudging her wrist that had the thread on it.
The girl scoffed quietly. “I’m a girl, it’s normal for us to have silly jewelry on.”
Draco’s pale eyebrow shot up. “‘Silly jewelry’?” He quoted. “So our friendship is silly now?”
The girl felt a pinch of regret hit her. She quickly shook her head. “No, I didn’t mean it like that.”
He still had an absence of a frown on his lips, but he believed the reassurance that she provided when she gave him a kind apologetic smile.
“Good.” She heard him mutter, most likely for her to not hear, but she thanked Merlin her ears picked up on it.
Four: The Admiring
Year: Forth
The Divination book was open in front of her, propped up against her bag that was lazily thrown on the table moments prior. The usual presence of Draco wasn’t met, since she was keeping herself busy while he attended Quidditch practice. The sun was still shining, though it was evening and after supper, through the green see-through curtains.
The Professor wanted them to write predictions on how their future would go, and all she came up with was that she would “experience a heart warming moment” and that “something she dearly loved would break”.
Her eyebrows were furrowed tightly, and just when she about decided to start making them up, the Common Room entrance opened, a certain platinum blonde coming into view, broomstick hung over his shoulder. His face was twisted with exhaustion, yet once his eyes met hers she saw a different expression in his eyes, relief perhaps, for she often didn’t know how to read his eyes, despite them being friends for four years.
He blooped down across from her, next to her bag so he was still in sight. His hand was now dug into his hair, eyes fluttering but he still was able to look at her. She stared longer than she should’ve, but the sight was too warming to her chest, watching his tired eyes gaze upon hers with such softness no one would ever be able to see but her.
She had her right arm on the table, flipping through the pages of the book with her other hand.
“Divination?” Draco asked, peering over at the work she had done. She nodded, and at that moment she yawn came over her.
“Yeah,” she said. “I’m about to start making it up at this point.”
Draco chuckled, reaching up and lazily rubbing his eye. “Agreed; kinda stupid really.”
She nodded once again, starting to get too tired to talk. She scanned the page that was open in front of her, spotting the sentence “you will witness a break up between two strangers” and thought that was good enough. The other predictions spoke to her but this one didn’t seem to do such, for she was at that point picking random ones out to write down. She was focused on writing, so such so that she didn’t notice Draco lay his arm down, close to her hand but the skin wasn’t close enough to brush. She also didn’t notice his grey eyes moving from his wrist to hers, the marching thread being admired scanned with his eyes.
She looked up them, feeling his finger tips brush her robe sleeve, and she met his eyes.
“What are you looking at?” She asked, eyebrows furrowing only to curve even deeper than before when he quickly responded, a little too quickly.
“Nothing.” He said shortly, taking his arm back. She held a confused expression but didn’t pry on the subject.
“Can we go to bed now?” He asked abruptly, trying to change the topic of conversation. She hummed, packing up her now finished work and putting it in her bag. She stood up, about to grab the bag when Draco beat her to it, his pale hand gripping the strap.
“Thanks.” She muttered, suddenly feeling a small flush appear over her cheeks.
“For what?” He asked, confused, like he didn’t know he just did a kind deed.
She scoffed at how oblivious he was. “For carrying my bag. You don’t have to do that.”
It was his turn to scoff, lips twitching in slight annoyance. “Well we are friends, aren’t we?”
Five: The Breaking
Year: Fifth
The Hogwarts Express seemed to vibrate underneath her, the engine coming to life as it was ready to ride on. Everyone was excited for the upcoming year, happiness flooding their features and chests.
She, however, grew worried when she didn’t have the usual company of her friend, not having seeing him yet. She didn’t spot him in the platform or while she was walking along the hallways of the train, going to their usual compartment. She was thinking he went with his other friends, perhaps he wanted to catch up with them.
But she couldn’t help but feel a little hurt, since he always at least met her before each year, in the same seats on the same train in the same compartment. Why was it different this year?
She looked out the window, miraculously thinking maybe he was running along the train’s side, yelling for it to stop so he could catch up. But of course that wouldn’t happen since the boy was always on time, so he must be on the train, just not with her.
The compartment door opened abruptly, causing her head to snap in the direction of the noise. Draco stood there, in a black suit, black tie, and black shoes. He strolled over to the seat and sat across from her, leaning his hands on the table in front of him. This all happened just in time as the train started churning, wheels turning and gaining speed as it headed off to the school.
“Where have you been?” She asked, unable to hide the worry in her voice.
“I was looking for something.” He answered simply, looking a little irritated.
“For what, exactly?” She asked, getting annoyed as well, the irritation brewing in her chest as he once again left her with no answers.
“I was looking for this.” He said sharply. He had slapped something on the table for her to see, the green thread immediately recognizable between his fingers. It was the same as it has always been, dirty as it went through the years but the knots stayed true. The only thing was that the bottom was broken, the knot becoming undone.
“Can’t wear it if it’s broken, right?”
She was half listening, still gazing at the strings that were on the table. She grabbed it gently between her fingers, caressing it like a baby and analyzed the damage.
“It fell off on my way here.” He explained, kind of annoyed that it did such thing at such an inconvenient time.
“I can fix it.” She said quietly, surprised he still possessed it. “I just can’t believe you still have it.”
“What, you don’t have yours?” He asked, looking a little hurt beneath the annoyance that she’s so surprised at that occurrence.
“Of course I do,” she started, and missed his eyes going to her arm to see if it was there, and she was telling the truth. “I just didn’t think you’d-“
Draco groaned, rubbing his head with his hand and looking at the window, grey eyes reflecting the sun’s warmth. “We are friends, aren’t we? Honestly…”
She looked down at the bracelet, the knots worn down and dirty, but the meaning stood true. She didn’t know what it was, but somehow her mind went back to her Forth Year, working on her Divination homework, and writing down “something she dearly loved would break.”
She supposed her made up predictions weren’t made up after all.
Six: The Decision
Year: Sixth
“This is stupid.” Draco’s voice blurted shortly, looking down at the homework in front of him, the essay’s words seeming to combine in his mind, creating an annoying jumble of ink.
“I know, but Slughorn insisted.” She reminded, causing his silver eyes to roll in the back of his head. He quill lazily sat on his hands, twirling it mindlessly out of boredom.
She noticed his robe sleeve rolled up at the action, wrist muscles twitching and moving as his fingers worked the quill.
The bracelet made of thread was not only repaired but still sitting on his wrist as good as ever, the green shining the meaning of it. Just looking at his made the feeling of her own on her skin a lot more noticeable, heart warming at the sight.
“Do you want me to make you a new one?” She asked, and when he turned to her she gestured to the strands that were getting older by the day.
His eyebrows furrowed deeply, displaying large amounts of confusion. “New one? Certainly not.” He replied. “This one’s just fine; don’t know what you’d think that, really.”
She smiled soft but it was unsure. “You sure? Cause I was thinking about making myself a new one.”
Draco scoffed but looked a little frustrated. “Scared of a little dirt?”
“No.” She replied. Draco then nodded towards her wrist.
“Then it stays. Mine’s as old as yours.”
Seven: The Pulling
Year: Seventh
The air was musty, ash seeping the air, suffocating the lungs of beings who breathed it in. Of course no one cared at the moment; the air pollution the last thing on their minds. The living breathing representation of evil was standing in front of them, laughing like what was happening was his dream come true. Because, realistically, it was. Deaths, damage, emotional and physical, destruction, all of it was part of his dream. To end it all and face the boy who lived, and all for what. Just so he can kill the boy who he was trying to murder ever since he was a baby?
It wasn’t that the girl was paying much attention as the living evil spoke, too busy staring at the ground that inc held healthy green grass, grass that her and Draco used to pick at while they complained about classes they had that day. Or any day for that matter. Sometimes his long skinny fingers would dig into her sides, wiggling until he heard the sound of her laughter, something he may never hear again because of the cold voice calling him.
His mother. His father. The living evil.
He stepped forward, ready to leave the cruelty of his peers and the burning stares he just knew where there. His head swam with so many emotions but he didn’t have time to look them through, just focusing on walking to the other side, the other side where evil doings were being performed. The other side that he didn’t have a choice but to be on.
He was gonna go, he really was, despite the soft tug he felt on his wrist, and, looking down, saw her index finger hooked underneath the thread of his bracelet as she pulled, the knots begging him to stay along with the maker of them. He met her eyes despite the emotions crashing his rib cage, threatening to get to his heart, but he held the gaze all the same.
“Stay.” She said softly, eyes swirling, knowing all those years with him weren’t for nothing. She didn’t last all those times with him as a child or teenager just for him to walk away.
“Why.” He muttered back, voice dry as ever so much so that he felt like his throat was filled with sand and he was speaking through the tiny rocks. She answered with a small smile, something so small making him plant his feet on the ground, making him stay away didn’t the living evil on the other side….making him have a choice.
“Well, we are friends, aren’t we?”
#imagines#stories#x reader#hogwarts school of witchcraft and wizardry#draco lucius malfoy#draco malfoy imagine#draco malfoy x reader#draco x reader#draco malfoy#tom felton x reader
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Once upon a time
Everyone knows once upon a time, but did you know that countless cultures have their variation of how classic stories begin, and one one from Welsh is, "A long time ago," similar to a few others from other cultures that go, "A long long time ago."
But, some, like Lithuanian go: "Beyond nine seas, beyond nine lagoons," similar to the Czech, "Beyond seven mountain ranges, beyond seven rivers."
These are some variations from Arab texts: This happened or maybe it did not. The time is long past and much is forgot.
There was or there was not—is anything sure or certain but the greatness of Allah?—a king so powerful that man and Djinn bowed before him.
This is how many Hausa tales are begun “A story, a story. Let it go, let it come.”
And of course, we have one that is a combination and modern invention that has become part of media culture and storied greatness: "A long time ago in a galaxy far, far away." <3
These are just some. But it's been among the most wonderful part of my research before I began putting down the first words for Tales of Tremaine. But the art of storytelling is one of the most human things there is. It's central to us, and it has passed long and far by tongue and time over lands and through cultures. Some beginnings are so similar to each other, some not so much.
But then you see the threads between them in the stories, the themes, tropes, archetypes, motifs. But the traditions span the world. They are old. They are cool. And they are beautiful.
And storytelling is one of the gifts that connects us all, like music, and other arts.
#once upon a time#how stories begin#Lithuanian#Czech#arabic#Hausa tales#welsh folklore#European lore#world folklore#in a galaxy far far away#art of storytelling#storytelling#storytelling techniques#stories#djinn#archetypes#what about your culture#did i miss anything#what did I miss#add your own#add your own thoughts#folklore#myths and legends#folktales
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#belicomic#funny#lol#haha#humor#meme#memes#fantasy#book#storytime#booklover#tinystories#shortstory#shortstories#story#poetry#fiction#storytelling#stories#quote#quotes#quotesaboutlife#feelingpositive#happy#inspiration#kindness#lifequotes#love#lovelife#lovequotes
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Let's share our projects together!
What are you currently working on? Is it a novel? Short story? Novella?
What genre is it? Tell me about your characters, where did you get the idea for your book? Let's share our projects here together ✨.
My project A.N. came to me thanks to homework for my uni in the winter term. We were supposed to write a short story and that's when I came up with the idea for the Angels of Night. I wasn't planning on continuing the story. I tried so many new methods, like writing from third person perspective (until then I wrote only in first person), multiple POVs, writing about angels, and more. It was just something to school that was never supposed to continue. I was working on a whole different project at that time that I wanted to finish. There just wasn't a place for something new.
But my friends kind of wanted to know more. I had the whole story in my head, I knew what happened before and what would happen after. So I started telling them, because they were curious and I guess that's when I realised I wanted to finish it. I want to write the beginning and the end.
I have a whole post about this story prepared, so you'll have to wait a little bit to read more. But let me know what you're currently working on, I'd love to hear about all your stories💗.
#blog#writers on tumblr#writeblr#writerscommunity#writing#writers and poets#writers#female writers#creative writing#writer#on writing#writer stuff#lets be friends#lets chat#share out projects#author#book writing#writer community#novel writing#novel#romance novels#fiction#romantasy#literary fiction#novella#short story#story#original story#stories#short stories
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#poll#my polls#poll time#random poll#tumblr polls#random polls#polls#polls on tumblr#tumblr poll#polls are fun#fiction#story#narrative#stories#random#random thoughts
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don't fucking interrupt me when i'm reading my x reader fics it's rude
#× reader#fan fiction#tumblr writing community#tumblr writers#fics#fanfic#wattpad#stories#fandom#booklr#reading#fangirling#spencer reid x reader#stiles stilinski x reader#rafe cameron x reader#spencer reid#stiles stilinski#rafe cameron#imagine#short story#one shot#author#ao3#recommend me stuff#female hysteria#girlblogging#gaslight gatekeep girlboss#girl interrupted#x reader#writers on tumblr
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Some of my writer’s block cures:
Handwrite. (If you already are, write in a different coloured pen.)
Write outside or at a different location.
Read.
Look up some writing prompts.
Take a break. Do something different. Comeback to it later.
Write something else. (A different WIP, a poem, a quick short story, etc.)
Find inspiring writing music playlists on YouTube. (Themed music, POV playlists, ambient music, etc.)
Do some character or story prompts/questions to get a better idea of who or what you’re writing.
Word sprints. Set a timer and write as much as you can. Not a lot of time to overthink things.
Set your own goals and deadlines.
Write another scene from your WIP. (You don’t have to write in order.) Write a scene you want to write, or the ending. (You can change it or scrap it if it doesn’t fit into your story later.)
Write a scene for your WIP that you will never post/add to your story. A prologue, a different P.O.V., how your characters would react in a situation that’s not in your story, a flashback, etc.
Write down a bunch of ideas. Things that could happen, thing that will never happen, good things, bad things.
Change the weather (in the story of course.)
Feel free to add your own.
#writeblr#writing help#writing tips#writing advice#books#writing#wattpad#stories#author#writing community#creative writing#writers on tumblr#writers block#writers blog#writblr#female writers#writerscorner#writing motivation#writers block cures#novel writing#writer things#writing encouragement#authors supporting authors#author blog
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Omg let me tell yall about how one act, even if done out of self perservation, can ripple out in the most positive ways.
My friend during covid had her and her family go to a butcher and directly tell them they'd put 400 down every month collectively and they'd just order roughly the same thing every month.
So she's been doing this for like 3 years, still 400ish for like a stupid amount of meat.
But the butcher could do this bc they could regularly supply him and having a garenteed income was such a big deal. Particularly bc that means he could commit that much money to the farmers he orders from, which means those farmers also get that stable income too. So this one act helped all the way up the chain.
It helped her and her family, and friends who they gifted with meals when ppl are sick.
And that butcher offered lower prices to others and could have a steady supply of good quality meat. Because-
The farmer also got a steady income. Free from the worry of getting their next bill covered. They got better feed and could care for their animals better. This improved the lives of the pigs/candle as well as the farmer getting to live a happier healthier life.
This is still happening, this has been happening for years for all of them.
It's baffling that such a small act of community spreads so much stability and joy, ranging from the farmer relaxing to a BBQ at a block party. All bc my friend was sick of grocery store meat prices on chicken.
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Do y’all know about Frédéric Thomas? He is a French parasitologist who heard a story about crickets in New Zealand leaping into the water even though they can’t swim, and immediately speculated this suicidal behavior was related to behavior manipulation from an internal parasite. This is before neuro-parasitology was a field at all, and before people really put much stock into parasite’s ability to control animal behavior.
Thomas was certain that studying these crickets would be a huge priority for the scientific world given the implications of a parasite controlling an animal’s actions in such an insidious way. Unfortunately, absolutely nobody would fund Thomas’ expedition to study the crickets, and his grants were all declined. In a wild move that showcases the balls to the wall, near- insanity level passion of a biologist, Thomas declared a hunger strike and wrote a letter to the president of France saying he would not eat until someone took the matter seriously and funded his study on the suicidal crickets. I feel like those of us in research can at least a little bit understand this impulse.
Well the French government actually got Thomas’ message and freaked out a bit at the negative publicity that could arise from a crazy worm scientist starving to death. So they send some government bigwigs to the university to pressure Thomas and his department heads into calling an end to the hunger strike. In the flurry of attention that resulted from this, a Swiss billionaire heard about Thomas’ plight and offered to partially fund the study. The French government was happy to get rid of Thomas and contributed funding as well so that Thomas could head to New Zealand to study his suicidal crickets. He was right about the parasites causing the behavior!
The hunger strike debacle is not even the wildest part of this story. I love biology so much
#neuro parasitology#source: this is your brain on parasites by Kathleen mcauliffe#funny#stories#parasitology#biology#weird#animal behavior
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You want to know why Inigo Montoya remains such an iconic and beloved character even 35 years after the Princess Bride came out?
It's because he's one of the few characters in fiction who has a story where he has dedicated his life to revenge, his whole motivation is about getting revenge....and he gets it! and then he isn't empty or despairing! he doesn't regret it! he's totally satisfied!
because so many stories about revenge or rage are about characters "seeing the futility of their actions" or learning "their desire for revenge has only made them the monsters they hated" FUCK THAT.
Inigo Montoya kills the man who kills his father, is allowed to live in the narrative after and be happy about it and it is so satisfying. it's fantastic. it's iconic.
let more characters rage against the world, bring it down with bloodied hands, and let them be FUCKING RIGHT about it. Let them celebrate their success with sharp grins, and let them live happy, full lives where they always remain proud/fulfilled for what they've done
#inigo montoya#my name is inigo montoya you killed my father prepare to die#stories#the princess bride#fiction#writing#william goldman#revenge#rage#revenge in writing#rage in writing#wrath#its rare a few other examples of this#iron widow#sort of#the devil judge#i cant think of any others#six of crows#crooked kingdom#kaz inej genya all get revenge#1 k#2 k#5k#10k#20k#30k#40k#50k#60k#70k
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Fairy tale nerds of Tumblr I need your help.
I've been trying to find a fairy tale for AGES, this has been almost a decades long quest. I first read it in a Highlights magazine around the mid 2000s, when the theme was "Fairy Tales from around the World." Now I don't know if this is actually an older fairy tale or just one that was made up for the magazine masquerading as a story from somewhere else. I've done my own research and have come up zilch.
So, this story was about a prince that was cursed to be a wolf until he was able to bite a bride the night of her wedding. Well, it just so happens that such a woman is riding through the forest with her new beau, a very uncouth man that calls her his "little chicken." Long story short, a pack of wolves waylay their carriage, the wolf prince bites the lady, becomes human again, and they fall in love and marry.
And what happened to her original husband?
Well naturally he gets turned into a chicken and they eat him at their wedding feast.
Classic.
if anyone knows the title of this fairy tale or where it may have originated, please let me know! I'd love to see if I can read it again.
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Pour one out for all the stories you'll never find again, that you barely remember in totality, but that left an impression on you that you'll never forget.
The short stories from standardized tests that you only had a few minutes to read, but those minutes will last a lifetime.
The books on the library display shelf you used to occupy time until your mom could come pick you up from school.
The graphic novel you picked up when you were first getting into comics and could never find again.
The single lines or themes from stories you otherwise don't remember, save for the one thing that you saw and internalized as a new part of your personality.
Let's pour one out for the books that built us, even if we never could find them again, and couldn't if we wanted to.
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