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For the Twisted Fairy Tail challenge being held at More information about the challenge can be found here: www.deviantart.com/journal/OC-…

Artist's comments are after the story!! Enjoy!

This was just not Oz’s day. Or week. Or life for that matter.

It was bad enough that he was the third son to a king of a very small kingdom, which caught the attention of all of the gossipers. Third sons were considered bad luck to any one, doubly so if the child was the third son of a king. He had grown up trying so very hard not to botch everything he touched but despite his best efforts, things had gone wrong anyway.

Trying to guess a tiny little man’s name? Oz had only been trying to help his family. Seriously, he had been certain that Ganimedes was the correct name. It wasn’t his fault that Rumplestiltskin took off with his younger sister.

Or how about helping Little Miss Bo Peep find her sheep? He had been certain that she was desperate for help when he heard her complaining to her mother that they were lost. How was he to know that Bo Peep was trying to get rid of the sheep so she could run away with the butcher’s son?

It was probably desperation to escape any more embarrassment from their third son that drove the King and Queen to send Oz on the hundred year quest that took him over a hundred leagues from his home. The journey had been full bumbling around (like seriously, helping a wooden puppet escape from the belly of a whale? Oz could still smell whale stomach acid on his clothing!), but when Oz finally stepped from the thorny forest and looked at the castle before him, he felt that just this once, things would go right!

That is, until he got closer to the castle. The door was rotting and hanging by splinters on it’s hinges. Dust coated everything so thoroughly that Oz would have no problem tracking his way back out of the castle. And the strangest part was that he kept coming across people. Very, very old people. Sleeping elderly people. In clothing that had been fashionable at least one hundred years ago. Old ancient clothing that practically hung off of the bodies that had clearly not had anything decent to eat in recent days.

Feeling dread pile in his stomach, Oz had entered the room at the top of the stairs in the tallest tower. This room was no different from the rest of the castle. Vines covered the window and dust had settled in every nook and cranny. The walls were cracked and starting to wear away in places and spider webs crisscrossed the room.

His eyes rested on a girl resting on a stone bed. At least, he thought it was a girl. The closer he got to the figure the more he saw that she was not a girl, but that she was a very old woman. Her clothes were faded and even starting to disintegrate in places and her hair was snow white, limp and lifeless.

I’m supposed to kiss this sleeping corpse? Oz thought to himself with disgust. That was the information he had paid for, even if the information had come to him in the usual bumbling manner. Maybe a kiss to the cheek, like how he would greet his grandmother, would do the trick?

A quick peck to the cheek later, nothing had happened to the woman and Oz was fighting the urge to gag. It wasn’t just that she was old, but she also smelled old and her skin felt like old crackly paper.

“I don’t believe this,” Oz muttered, his voice sounding loud in the silence of the sleeping castle. “Why does magic always activate by a kiss on the lips?”

He could just walk away. There was a pretty milk maid in the last village he had wandered through. He wondered if she had a boyfriend or if she would be interested in him and if he could make a life not as a prince, but as a regular villager.

He looked back at the sleeping figure, her chest barely rising and falling, and his thoughts faltered. He groaned to himself and thought, If I don’t kiss this woman, I’m going to wonder about it for the rest of my life. Can I live with that?

Oz sighed heavily and grimaced. He really didn’t want to kiss a sleeping woman old enough to be his great grandmother. But he also really wanted to know what would happen. And besides, what was the worst that could happen? That he would kiss the granny and she would continue to sleep?

After a moment to steel himself, Oz puckered his lips and leaned forward…..

omg, I got it DONE!!! *throws glitter* I was beginning to wonder when I kept putting in more details and the hours started to pile up, but it's done!! Woohoo!!!

I used my OC's Oz and Miara in a completely alternate universe for this challenge. Yes, yes, that is a VERY old Miara sleeping there. I wanted to take Sleeping Beauty both from the Prince's point of view AND make a twisted version of the fairy tail that asked, "What if Sleeping Beauty aged while she waited for her prince?" I actually have a whole different version of this concept bubbling in my mind with a completely new OC set, but I chose to work with my already established OC's for this event.

I believe Sleeping Beauty (the story at least) is still (c) The Grimm Brothers
Art (c) A. Dubbert
Please do not steal, copy, alter, trace, distribute, or reproduce in any way, shape, or form without distinct permission from me. Thank you.

Description
For the Twisted Fairy Tail challenge being held at More information about the challenge can be found here: www.deviantart.com/journal/OC-…

Artist's comments are after the story!! Enjoy!

This was just not Oz’s day. Or week. Or life for that matter.

It was bad enough that he was the third son to a king of a very small kingdom, which caught the attention of all of the gossipers. Third sons were considered bad luck to any one, doubly so if the child was the third son of a king. He had grown up trying so very hard not to botch everything he touched but despite his best efforts, things had gone wrong anyway.

Trying to guess a tiny little man’s name? Oz had only been trying to help his family. Seriously, he had been certain that Ganimedes was the correct name. It wasn’t his fault that Rumplestiltskin took off with his younger sister.

Or how about helping Little Miss Bo Peep find her sheep? He had been certain that she was desperate for help when he heard her complaining to her mother that they were lost. How was he to know that Bo Peep was trying to get rid of the sheep so she could run away with the butcher’s son?

It was probably desperation to escape any more embarrassment from their third son that drove the King and Queen to send Oz on the hundred year quest that took him over a hundred leagues from his home. The journey had been full bumbling around (like seriously, helping a wooden puppet escape from the belly of a whale? Oz could still smell whale stomach acid on his clothing!), but when Oz finally stepped from the thorny forest and looked at the castle before him, he felt that just this once, things would go right!

That is, until he got closer to the castle. The door was rotting and hanging by splinters on it’s hinges. Dust coated everything so thoroughly that Oz would have no problem tracking his way back out of the castle. And the strangest part was that he kept coming across people. Very, very old people. Sleeping elderly people. In clothing that had been fashionable at least one hundred years ago. Old ancient clothing that practically hung off of the bodies that had clearly not had anything decent to eat in recent days.

Feeling dread pile in his stomach, Oz had entered the room at the top of the stairs in the tallest tower. This room was no different from the rest of the castle. Vines covered the window and dust had settled in every nook and cranny. The walls were cracked and starting to wear away in places and spider webs crisscrossed the room.

His eyes rested on a girl resting on a stone bed. At least, he thought it was a girl. The closer he got to the figure the more he saw that she was not a girl, but that she was a very old woman. Her clothes were faded and even starting to disintegrate in places and her hair was snow white, limp and lifeless.

I’m supposed to kiss this sleeping corpse? Oz thought to himself with disgust. That was the information he had paid for, even if the information had come to him in the usual bumbling manner. Maybe a kiss to the cheek, like how he would greet his grandmother, would do the trick?

A quick peck to the cheek later, nothing had happened to the woman and Oz was fighting the urge to gag. It wasn’t just that she was old, but she also smelled old and her skin felt like old crackly paper.

“I don’t believe this,” Oz muttered, his voice sounding loud in the silence of the sleeping castle. “Why does magic always activate by a kiss on the lips?”

He could just walk away. There was a pretty milk maid in the last village he had wandered through. He wondered if she had a boyfriend or if she would be interested in him and if he could make a life not as a prince, but as a regular villager.

He looked back at the sleeping figure, her chest barely rising and falling, and his thoughts faltered. He groaned to himself and thought, If I don’t kiss this woman, I’m going to wonder about it for the rest of my life. Can I live with that?

Oz sighed heavily and grimaced. He really didn’t want to kiss a sleeping woman old enough to be his great grandmother. But he also really wanted to know what would happen. And besides, what was the worst that could happen? That he would kiss the granny and she would continue to sleep?

After a moment to steel himself, Oz puckered his lips and leaned forward…..

omg, I got it DONE!!! *throws glitter* I was beginning to wonder when I kept putting in more details and the hours started to pile up, but it's done!! Woohoo!!!

I used my OC's Oz and Miara in a completely alternate universe for this challenge. Yes, yes, that is a VERY old Miara sleeping there. I wanted to take Sleeping Beauty both from the Prince's point of view AND make a twisted version of the fairy tail that asked, "What if Sleeping Beauty aged while she waited for her prince?" I actually have a whole different version of this concept bubbling in my mind with a completely new OC set, but I chose to work with my already established OC's for this event.

I believe Sleeping Beauty (the story at least) is still (c) The Grimm Brothers
Art (c) A. Dubbert
Please do not steal, copy, alter, trace, distribute, or reproduce in any way, shape, or form without distinct permission from me. Thank you.