#actually most of nap's interactions with eugene are funny

[josefavomjaaga]

I’m biased of course but

Eugène being ordered to marry a coffee mug casually informed of himself being betrothed, and for a first visual impression being told “please see enclosed coffee mug”

after having first learned of the engagement from the postman

while the bride wrote a tearful letter to her father, declaring she would sacrifice herself for the fatherland, asking for her dear Papa’s blessing in order to have the force to endure her dark fate

and all the rest of this marriage, up to Napoleon specifically telling Julie Bonaparte (Joseph’s wife), what the wedding gifts she was supposed to send had to cost

Funniest Napoleonic Era moment GO

[colonel-insomniac]

The Thief’s Prince (Part One)

Ok, Aladdin AU, anyone? keep in mind that since Aladdin had a genie, I kinda have to write one in too. 1 2 3 4 5 6 AO3

Bobby wouldn't be a thief if he really had any other choice. As it is, he’s simply doing what he has to in order to live, and keeping his friends alive. Instead, he’s known as a thief, a street rat, a sweet talking deceiver, and a lot of bad things he won’t repeat to anyone. Sometimes, it makes Bobby upset to know that other people think badly of him, he only ever tries to be the best he can be, but money is tight, and not everyone can afford it, or afford the reputation he’s made for himself. So he does what has to be done. 

He wishes people were kinder, or would at least see him as a robin hood of sorts, but that probably won’t happen. The only thing to comfort him right now is that no one but those closest to him are aware of his track record. They call him Acro, and where they got that name, he isn’t sure, but it’s better than them knowing his real name and calling for Bobby Porter’s head. Instead, they look for someone who doesn’t exist. 

So he wears a hooded cloak when he’s out trying to…shop. His boss, Eugene Krabbes, runs the Krustie Krabbe, a restaurant front for the true mission, in which Bobby’s managed to reach the top of the pyramid. Their mission is simple—steal from the fortunate and give to the unfortunate. Tomorrow, they’re supposed to attempt a theft mission from the palace, but Bobby isn’t really sure how they can do that without failing severely. 

Right now he’s in the marketplace, wandering through the crowded area, trying to see what he can manage to take without necessarily being noticed. The hood of his cloak is pulled over his eyes to shield him from the sun and to keep out prying eyes. Of course he only gets more stares, but there are several others with hoods up, and they’re normal people, so Bobby prays that no one suspects anything. 

There are apples, bread, cheese, pastries and so much more. There’s also some valuable-ish jewlery, but Bobby doesn’t dare try to steal those. He’s been instructed not to go that far, no matter how much he itches to. Bobby gets that they can’t really sell stolen jewlery at a restaurant, but they’d be able to sell it for more than it costs and use the money they earn to actually buy the things they need. Mr Krabbes just doesn’t listen to Bobby. 

He stops that train of thought before it can really take off, and unhooks his bag. He’s preparing himself for an easy grab-and-go. Today was a good day to hit the markets, it’s so busy they might not even notice him. Bobby inches himself towards the apple stall, inspecting the red and green and yellow fruits. His acting skills kick into effect when he brings a pale arm towards the apples, running a short finger over their unblemished skin. When he’s sure no one’s looking anymore, he tosses four apples in succession into his bag, before slowly walking away. 

No matter how many times he does this, his heart always pounds rapidly when he walks away. He knows it’s wrong to steal in theory, but is it still bad if he’s doing it for a good cause? He figures maybe it’s some sort of paradoxical situation, doing the right thing even though it’s wrong in the basest of its theories. 

Regardless, no one shouts at him to stop, and he hits up the next stall: bread. He operates this one exactly like the apples. Inspect, touch, and once the coast is clear, take. Maybe Bobby gets a little too confident with his abilities. He’s on his seventh loaf of bread when he hears the familiar phrase “Stop, thief!” 

Rolling his eyes, he takes off running, closing his bag hurriedly. He weaves through the throng of people, hoping to lose the guard that caught him, but every time he thinks he’s shaken them off, a new guard joins. It’s like running instantly means you’re guilty for something. Bobby can hear the guards barking at one another that it’s him, or rather that it’s Acro. Same difference, he supposes. 

His bag thumps against his leg, and his hood blows almost all the way off his head, but no matter how bad the stitch in his side gets, he doesn’t stop. He can’t, uness he wants to lose everything he just got. Bobby runs into a random building, up the stairs, into a random open door. He slows for a moment, trying to be as quiet as he can to throw any authority figure off his metaphorical scent. Bobby can hear them running up the stairs, their boots pounding out the beat to an unheard melody. He stops, fanning himself with a hand, before rushing to the window. The guards footsteps and yelling are quieter, but it’s only a matter of time until they have to come back down.

He thinks of the fabled Aladdin, the thief turned prince, many kingdoms over, somewhere called Aghraba. Maybe Bobby looks up to the guy a little, but only in a “he turned his life around” kind of way. Bobby can hear them coming back down, and scampers out the window, scaling the wall as fast as he can. In hindsight, maybe he should have gone down instead of up. 

On the roof is a blanket that’s rather big, and Bobby immediately knows what he ought to do. Whether it’ll work or not is another thing, but life isn’t fun if you always play by the rules. He grabs the corners of the blankets in his hands, and hopes that it works as a makeshift parachute. No time for second thoughts, he gulps, and runs, leaping off of the rooftop. 

And of course it works. Well, he doesn’t plummet to the ground, so it’s a success in his mind. He takes off running toward the Krustie Krabbe, mentally patting himself on the back for his quick thinking. Bobby notices the guards watching him from the roof he once stood in when he glances over his shoulder, still ordering him to stop. 

They really think he’ll stop when he pretty much succeeded? He laughs to himself, it’s honestly just a foolish way to think. He’s won, that’s it. 

He slows down and takes the cloak off as he nears the Krustie Krabbe, folding it up nicely before entering the establishment. Krabbes waits for him in front of his office door. Bobby knows the drill by now, and just breezes into the room, taking a seat in the velvet chair. “So.” He says, folding his freckled arms, relaxing now that he’s safe. His bag lies on the ground next to him. 

Krabbes doesn’t bother waiting for Bobby to hand him the bag, he snatches it off the floor and looks inside. “Four apples, seven loaves of bread.” Bobby states, proud of his accomplishment. It’s the most he’s managed to take in one go. 

“Good job, me boy. This is why you be the one at the top of me recruits.” Bobby shrugs, but can’t resist a small smile. 

“Anyway, that ain’t the only thing I want to talk to y’a about, boy.” Krabbes sits down behind his desk, hands fidgeting with a pen. Bobby leans forward, thoroughly intrigued. 

“About the attack on the palace tomorrow, yer the one that needs to go in.” Bobby feels the shock running through his veins like electricity. 

“What—me? But I thought… ” Bobby trails off. He’d thought about the mission before, and he wanted to be the one to go inside, but he didn’t expect to actually be chosen to go inside. 

“Look boy, you’re the only one fast enough, and you’re also the only one of my recruits who’s innocent looking. No one will suspect you, boy.” Bobby nods, stomach in knots. 

“Alright, so what’s the plan?” He asks. 

“We send you in tonight, dressed as a servant. But you are not to interact with anyone unless absolutely necessary, boy. You get too cocky sometimes, but the stakes are high for this one.” Bobby blushes and looks at his shoes. It’s true, though. He does get too sure of his abilities sometimes. 

“You are to tend to the prince and when he’s sleeping, take whatever might be valuable. You know that part of the drill. You fill up your bag, your pockets, everything that you can. We’re taking the money and giving it to the people boy, but only after we make sure our organization has enough to satisfy our needs.” Bobby nods, tended at the thought of the prince. 

Once upon a time, when Bobby was just a little boy, the prince would wander the streets of the kingdom. That’s where they met. The two became fast friends in the way children usually do, and had loads of fun despite their different backgrounds. 

But then prince Patrick’s mother died. After that, the prince hasn’t been seen again. It’s been ages since Bobby last corresponded with the prince, and he wonders if prince Patrick remembers him. 

Bobby’s never told anyone about this, and he poses a risk by showing his face around the prince at all, but Krabbes wants him to do this. And so he will. 

Later, when the shop closes, Bobby heads to the living area he shares with Sandy and Edward. Sandy’s a girl, and she’s really funny and she’s good at using her body as a weapon. Edward has less tolerance for Bobby, though. Bobby isn’t really sure of Edward’s skill set. 

He has a moment to rest before he has to set off to infiltrate the palace, so he naps, and after that, he puts on the disguise Edward had managed to get him and leaves. 

He scales the palace walls with a little bit of difficulty. They’re smooth walls so he doesn’t have much to grab onto, but he manages to climb it with relative ease and jumps down once making sure the coast was clear. 

He smooth’s out his uniform and walks on the palace pathway. He has a layout of the palace on a small piece of paper. It’s a simple drawing with the names of each room simplified by the removal of their vowels. It’s a shorthand way of writing that Bobby has found to be rather useful. 

“Hey, you!” Bobby stops in his tracks, and turns around. He recognizes the voice as one of the guards from earlier that day, but he tells himself to remain calm. He was cloaked, there’s no way he’d know that Bobby was the thief. 

“Yes sir?” Bobby replies, trying to appear as innocent as he can. 

“I haven’t seen you before. Do you have any form of identification on your person?” Bobby shakes his head. 

“No sir,” he begins, making his eyes tear up to sell the act. “I don’t come from much money and I applied for this job a while back. I only recently got approved. The king took my only form of ID and promised he would return it but he still hasn’t.” 

He sniffs, mentally crossing his fingers that this works. “I didn’t want to bring it up for fear that I’ll lose the only way I can earn a living, and my friends are very sick, I can’t afford to lose my job.” The guard looks at Bobby suspiciously, but ultimately nods, allowing him to leave. 

Bobby makes sure to profusely thank the guard before continuing on his mission. He hooks a left, then a right, and then another right before walking straight for what feels like forever, but eventually he stands face to face with an oak door. 

He knocks, waiting to hear his invitation inside before he enters the room. Prince Patrick, in Bobby’s eyes, is a sight to behold, and in a good way. He stares a moment too long before remembering to curtesy, and he can feel his cheeks heating up. “Do I…know you from somewhere?” Prince Patrick asks, his head tilted slightly. “You seem so familiar.” 

Bobby looks at him for a moment before replying “My name is Robert, but everyone calls me Bobby.” Patrick nods, eyebrows still furrowed in thought. 

“Well, Bobby, I don’t really need anything right now, but I do know it takes forever to walk all the way over here from wherever you must have been here in the palace, so you are welcome to stay.” Bobby nods, silent for maybe the first time in his life, and he can’t help thinking Edward would so appreciate Bobby being quiet. 

He takes a seat on the ground, looking up at the prince. “So,” Patrick breaks the silence. “What do you do for fun, Bobby?” 

Bobby has to think about that for a moment. He doesn’t really do anything he considers fun. It’s all in the name of survival. “I don’t do anything fun, I run errands in the marketplace sometimes.” That, Bobby thinks, isn’t a lie. He just chose not to tell the whole truth. 

“What’s the marketplace like?” The prince asks this with such intensity that it takes Bobby back before he remembers that Patrick hasn’t seen the outside world in quite some time. 

“It’s not really that interesting, Your Highness. There was a thief today, though.” 

“Did you see this thief?” 

“Not really.” Bobby feels bad lying through his teeth like this but he has to throw Patrick off any suspicion he might have against him. “They call him Acro, though that likely isn’t his real name.” 

The prince is full of questions, it seems. “What does Acro look like?” 

“I’m not really sure, they wear a cloak and always have their eyes covered. The guards haven’t caught him once. I caught a glimpse of Acro once, though. He doesn’t appear like a thief, from what I remember.” Bobby’s practically boasting now, and he has to scold himself internally. He’s getting too cocky, this is what Mr Krabbes was worried about. 

Prince Patrick regards Bobby with a curious smile, as though he knows something. “Oh really?” 

“I mean,” Bobby stammers, nervous now. “I mean that’s what I think? I can’t be sure.” The prince is onto him and he’s gonna face execution. 

Patrick studies him, nodding thoughtfully. “Well I want to leave the palace. I haven’t seen the outside world in ages.” The prince’s eyes light up. “Oh! I used to know this great boy, he also went by Bobby! Maybe you know him?” Bobby blushes and looks away, unsure of how to respond. 

“Well…I think—er I mean, it was me?” He doesn’t meet the prince’s gaze, and the heat that courses through his body is nearly unbearable. 

Neither the prince nor the thief say anything for a couple minutes. “Well how have you been, then?” Prince Patrick asks, a gentle smile on his face. 

Bobby answers as honestly as he thinks he can without confessing his crimes: “Money’s been tight across the kingdom, we’ve all essentially been scraping by, and I mean, the thieves have been making the kingdom a little unsafe. But I’m fine, really.”

“Yet you work for your money and food, correct?” Bobby’s sure this isn’t some random question. He’s convinced the prince knows, or is starting to be aware of Bobby’s background. 

“Yes, Your Highness,” Bobby begins, pausing to think of what else he can say. “I work at a dining establishment named the Krustie Krabbe, and I can manage to get by with the meager wages I earn.” Upon seeing the saddened face of the prince, Bobby makes sure to add “But it’s honest work. And life in a palace? That must be wondrous!”

The prince lets out a one syllable laugh, turning his head away from the thief. “Yeah. There are rules galore, and no one who’s actually a friend in here. It’s so lonely here. I want to leave.” He can practically see the wheels turning inside Patrick’s brain. “Oh, you could sneak me out!” 

“I—what?” Bobby asks. 

“You could sneak me out of here, and take me to the marketplace. That would be great.” Patrick claps his hands together, beaming at Bobby in such a way that he feels inclined to say yes.

“I don’t know if I can do that, I’ll have so many chores to work on here—“

“Oh please, I know you’re the thief they call Acro. I’m not that dim. Not to mention you talked about working at a restaurant. Anyone working for the palace knows this is the only job allowed!” The prince looks smug as he knows he’s beaten Bobby. 

“If you don’t take me outside these walls, I will yell for the guards and tell them exactly who you are, and say that you confessed everything to me.” Bobby mulls over his options, and decides to pull out this emergency card of his sweet talking. He usually only does this when he knows he’ll get caught otherwise, and that only happens when he’s wearing his cloak. No one he knows has ever seen him do this, but Bobby guesses maybe Patrick will have to be the first. 

Bobby stands, and Pat follows suit, scrambling off his bed and standing beside it. Bobby leaps up on the edge of the bed frame, careful not to get his shoes on the clean bed, and brings his face inches away from the prince’s. The prince looks at Bobby with wide eyes, and Bobby smirks back, tossing caution to the wind, and grabs the prince’s chin with his hand. Bobby’s curly hair sits a little over his eyes, but he doesn’t bother moving it. Maybe it adds to the effect. 

The prince practically radiates warmth, one Bobby can’t say he’s ever felt before, but it’s so great of a feeling that Bobby practically revels in it. “You wouldn’t tell anyone.” He states this with such an air of confidence it takes him by surprise. “Right?” the prince nods, cheeks flushing a delicate pink. 

“I didn’t think you really meant you’d hurt me like that.” Bobby added on. “Your sweet little Bobby would never think you’d hurt him.” He internally cringes. Every time he says that line, he always cringes. It’s just so cheesy. He cups the prince’s cheek with his hand, and his blue eyes meet Patrick’s brown ones. 

“No, I…” The prince blinks, “I would never hurt anyone.” Bobby leans away, satisfied, but still maintains the same air he had been. 

“That’s what I thought.” He leaps off the bed frame and takes the prince’s hands in his own. “Now then, I’ll take you outside the palace walls, but not because I’m afraid you will tell anyone, but because I genuinely feel bad. First, though, we must wait till everyone’s asleep.” Patrick shakes his head and nods once. 

“Only one problem with that.” Patrick points out, and Bobby’s smile falters. “The guards have shifts. They switch off every four hours.” 

“I’ll take care of that, don’t worry.” Bobby says this so confidently, even he believes it. 

“You aren’t going to murder anyone, right?” The prince cautiously asks Bobby this, and honestly, Bobby would be lying if he said it didn’t hurt a little, even if he deserved it.

“No! Of course I’m not gonna murder anyone!!!” He keeps his voice lowered, “I’m just a petty thief, not a murderer.” The comment stings, though. Bobby knows the prince doesn’t have a reason to trust him, but it still hurts. He removes his hands from Patrick’s and pivots, marching to the door. “I’m gonna go figure out how to do this, you…stay put.” He says as he opens the door. 

“Robert—Bobby, wait!” The prince rushes towards Bobby, and pushes the door back closed. “Don’t go. I’m sorry that must have been really rude.” 

“No, you’re right. You haven’t seen me in so long, you don’t even have a reason to trust me, technically. You being suspicious of me is a good thing.” Bobby’s just not used to people being suspicious of him, but that’s not Patrick’s fault. “I just gotta go figure all this out.” 

“So let’s figure it out together!” Patrick exclaims, clinging to Bobby’s arm. He seems so desperate for a friend, and Bobby can’t find it in himself to leave. He sighs and nods, allowing himself to be dragged to the prince’s bed. 

“Alright. Where are the guards in the daytime?” Bobby pulls his map of the palace and opens it, placing it on the bed for Pat. 

“Hm. They usually stay towards the front gates and with my father. They’re supposed to accompany me too, but they don’t, which is good.”

“Okay so what I’m understanding is the whole back area is essentially clear?” Patrick nods, and Bobby can feel an idea forming in his mind. “Right. I’ll meet you over at this back wall,” he places a finger on the paper, “tomorrow at noon exactly. No sooner, no later.” When Patrick nods, Bobby simply nods back. 

He’s managed to get completely distracted by his mission, all because of the prince. Truthfully, Bobby would be lying if he said he wasn’t quite enamored by the prince, but just ‘cause Aladdin wound up marrying Jasmine doesn’t mean Bobby will have the same luck. 

“Now, I seriously do have to go. I need to maintain a disguise.” Bobby practically leaps off the bed, trying to show off a little. 

He bows real low, “Good night, my prince.” 

Patrick nods, distracted and pink in the face, and Bobby winks before heading out the door, feeling much too confident in his abilities. Now, time to get on with the mission.

He heads inside the building, which interestingly enough, is quite cold despite being the middle of the summer. Bobby walks through the first room he finds, and opens all the drawers and cabinets. Nothing of much value, which is stupid. It’s the palace. Shouldn’t the knives be made of diamond and the bread dusted with gold? He shakes his head and grabs some silver knives anyways. 

Of course, he’s already strapped with a dagger, but there’s no harm in a little extra protection. Bobby goes from room to room in this manner, ears alert for any sort of noise. No one comes though, so he figures he’s safe. 

And then he comes across a dainty locket that is encrusted with emeralds. He pockets it for himself, intrigued. 

Eventually, he scrambles up the palace walls again, loaded with a bagful of semi-valuable items. And the locket, of course. It feels wrong, though. He knows Patrick, and the prince doesn’t suspect Bobby of robbing them. Maybe he doesn’t have to know that Bobby was the one who looted the palace. He will have to drop off the items with Krabbes and head back, insist on staying with the prince. A solid alibi. They can’t accuse him if he was with the prince. 

“Mr Krabbes, it was a success!” He calls, cloak still draped on him. He put it on at the palace, in case he got caught. The restaurant is abandoned at this time in the night, but Krabbes calls out to Bobby, telling the boy to go to his office. Bobby complies, and strides into the office, grinning past the guilt he feels. 

“Good job me boy, I knew y’a could do it. Any issues we gotta take care of?” Bobby shakes his head, even though there potentially could be. 

“I gotta head back though, boss man, otherwise they might suspect me.” Krabbes freezes at that, but nods, warning Bobby to keep his guard up as he leaves again. 

He knocks on the oak door again, and enters again, brushing the dirt stain from when he toppled over the wall on his way out. “You’re back!” Patrick exclaims, and the glee on his face makes Bobby’s heart pang in guilt. 

He nods, “Yeah, I finished my task, so I figured I’d come back.” The prince claps happily and beckons Bobby forward. 

“You’re clothes are dirty and so are you.” Patrick states matter of factly. 

“We aren’t able to bathe ourselves often in the outside walls. The last time I bathed must have been last week.” Bobby reminds himself not to get angry at the thought of how wasteful it must be to bathe every day. 

“That’s terrible. You’re free to use my washroom, if you would like to, that is.” Bobby’s eyes instantly widen at the offer and he nods shyly, slightly embarrassed at being offered a bath.

The prince shows Bobby to the room, which is complete with a marble tub with gold feet. Patrick excuses himself, and Bobby strips, stepping into the tub as it fills up with water. 

He takes the locket out of the outfit lying on the ground, and dunks it under the water in an attempt to clean it. Bobby’s fingers rub at the gold base of the locket. The emeralds glimmer under the light of the kerosene lamps. 

Bobby squints, because if he’s seeing right, it seems that there’s green fumes exiting the locket. A silhouette appears before his eyes, the same deep green of the emerald, but he has to bite his tongue to keep from screaming when yellow eyes meet his. “Greetings, Robert Porter.” The thundering voice resonated through the room and Bobby shushes the mystical form. 

“I am so dead.” Are the only words that managed to exit the boy sitting naked in the tub.