The Tooth Fairy Fairly Odd Parents Novels & Stories

- and that all of this was true. But then, fairy? He would know, wouldn't he? Someone would have said something. And yet, he wondered still which of his parents was the fairy, it was a silly thought, but he could not help but wonder all the same. Stranger things had happened, indeed, stranger things unfolded before his eyes almost everyday these days. So as he put a pot on a burner he wondered. He thought the whole thing crazy and unfathomable, almost impossible, but he wondered.

“You are such an unbeliever and you will regret it when the creatures decide to start showing up.” “I think you’ve read one too many fantasy books,” I patted her head in a comforting manner, “You should try nonfantasy.” “You should try believing more.” “I do believe,” I smiled, “In things that make sense like science and not children's stories like the tooth fairy and the Easter bunny.” “The tooth fairy isn’t actually as nice as people think,” she said suddenly, “They’re actually mean fairies who steal your teeth and use them to lay a curse on you.”

Tears filled her eyes as she tried to take them in. Aidan rested his hands helplessly on the pillar in front of him. "This isn't just about being the fairy mother, if...if" Aidan stammered. "If the wolves were to find out we'd be damned," Peri cut in. Both Peri and her advisor Aidan were worried and they assured themselves to just let it be a secret as they appoint her youngest daughter, Saria, as the Fairy mother. "Mother!" A young fairy was approaching. Saria was a fine young fairy with eyes like sunlight and hair blonde. She was slim-built and considerably tall for someone her age.

I start laughing. I was about six years old when I found out the tooth fairy wasn't real. My older cousin Joey told me that there was no such thing as the tooth fairy. That it was just my dad who would leave money under my pillow. When I asked my dad about it, he sat me down and told me Joey was right. I in all seriousness looked at my dad and said “Where do you hide your wings?” We were all laughing at this point.

She nodded, completely unaware of the silent conversation we were having. Of course, we knew better. Sure, fairies are real because Mom met one—but they aren't the ones that my daughter had hoped. They don’t collect teeth in exchange for money or sweets. I also had met a forest fae once in my youth. She was wise and wild and had teeth far sharper than any “Tooth Fairy” in the bedtime stories. That kind of fae didn’t trade molars for gold coins. They traded secrets and shadows. So no, the real fairies weren’t exactly the kind you invited into a child’s bedroom. Although I think the one Mom met is nice and more friendly..

Nova asks innocently. Before Noah can answer, Nolan cuts in. “Probably because the baby fairy is a lie.” “No, it’s not!” Nova frowns, her little brows pinching together. “If it were a lie, how come the tooth fairy left me a dollar?” “It wasn’t the tooth fairy, it was Dad,” Nolan mutters, bored, like he can’t believe she hasn’t figured it out yet. “You’re lying! Fairies are real!” “No, they’re not.” “Yes, they are!”

My mom places her hand over mine and tilts her head to the side as she looks at me in confusion and says, “Son, we support you no matter what.” I say, “She’s a fairy.” My dad looks shocked and says, “A fairy?” I nod, and my mom says, “That’s interesting, there’s so few of them left in the world.” My dad nods in agreement with my mom and I ask, “What do you mean?”

Her fingernails had loosened in their beds and shifted slightly, like loose tiles on a roof. My daughter's lips were pulled back from her teeth. The teeth were small and white and perfect. She had lost her first tooth only a month before I killed her. The tooth fairy had left a dollar under her pillow. I remembered finding that dollar on the floor the next morning and putting it in my pocket. I still had it somewhere.

Leath moved the phone away from her and called Piper. "Piper, what is he talking about?" Piper gave her a tablet and her eyes widened when she saw a website that some students made with the sole purpose of exclusive gossip, Weekly Goods, they called it. It was a picture of her and Professor Moreau by the pool, the photographer was skillful enough to bring out a different meaning to the picture when they were just merely talking. "Father, this is not what you think. That professor's up to something—" her father's cold tone cut her sentence off.

For the next few weeks, I would often see my parents' social media posts with pictures of them having dinner with Harry or the three of them taking a group shot, looking intimate like a family. They posted a picture of Harry holding my mother's arm and smiling gently alongside a caption that emphasized how they were a happy family. I swiped past the pictures and did not like them or comment. Instead, I pretended I had never seen any of the posts. Not long after the holidays ended, my mother suddenly called me. The moment I picked up, I could hear her unhappy tone. "Why didn't you transfer this month's allowance to us, Charlie? Why haven't you paid Harry his salary yet?"