#but i for one am rolling around in the mud of Prince Charming and princess in peril

[rowanisawriter]

wip whenever

tagged by ten thousand people over the course of the past few weeks where i haven’t had anything to share so now i’m going to subject you all to wyll/shadowheart from a prompt fill i’ve been picking at instead of writing my exchange fic like i’m supposed to…

.

Once upon a time, a princess. Perhaps. She is as quiet as one, as secretive. Hidden away in some internal world, or maybe trapped. Wyll can’t tell exactly how much of her quiet mystery is due to her devotion to her goddess or something else. Whenever he tries to ask, he gets a simple little smile and no explanations. No reasoning as to why she’s whispering to herself, sitting on her heels at camp, far enough from the light of the campfire that the edges of its orange glow barely touch her. No hint on the strange and all consuming injury on her hand that distracts her. No closer to understanding the thoughts that go through her head, strange and beyond his imagination, but he wants to try.

He begins with small gestures, the ones he’s read about in books, the ones they used to read to him back in the city when he was still a duke’s son. He hands her a cup of vinegary wine they found in some ruin or another, a flower plucked from the roadside, a shiny flat rock perfect for skipping across a still lake. She always accepts gingerly, as if expecting a trick along with the treat.

“I just like seeing a little smile on your face,” he tells her earnestly.

She starts to believe him, he can tell by how her smile begins to widen, but then she clutches her injured hand close to her chest and turns away. A princess in peril, locked away in the tower of her mind, and the dragon that traps her within. He feels something in his chest expand at the sight of her pain. Lucky for them, he’s a hero. Saving maidens in distress is what he does best.

[lantanasmuttyfanfics]

Hello king charming x queen charming spending moments with his children. I love your perfil.

First thank youuu love you too second idk I don’t have an excuse why I’m posting late and third please keep in mind that the charming siblings are about 5/6 years old in this fic

Anyway I’m going to try post as many fics as I can before school because lord knows how much I’ll be able to post when it does start

Hope you enjoyed and have a great dayy!!

———————————

Queen charming smoothed out her daughters tiara as they stood in the grand hall with a floor to ceiling mirror.

“Now remember Darling it’s very important that a princess should always look her best.” Darling awkwardly smiled at her mum, her eyes flitting to the window that over looked the vast yard.

“Still fretting about such things my love?” King charming looped his arm around his wife’s waist while placing a soft kiss on his daughter’s head.

“Go play with your brothers Darling.” She didn’t need any more encouragement before she was running, nearly tripping on her gown as she ran to the backyard.

“You’re teaching her bad manners.”

“Am I?”

“Mhmm it’s not befitting of-.”

“Yes yes a lady of her station.”

Queen charming softly rolled her eyes as she gazed at Daring chasing Dexter and Darling in the bright sun.

It was one of those rare days when the charming family had no more duties to complete and were simply able to do as pleased.

It was those days that the family cherished the most, a day where they were free so as they pleased. Etiquette and discipline be damned.

“How about we ask the servants to prepare a picnic for us and the children?” King charming placed a long kiss on the back of her neck, swaying side to side.

“I suppose that would be fun. Alright you go ahead I’ll join you in a bit.”

——

Soon enough a large basket of food was prepared for the family, dishes of sweets and desserts made especially for the young children.

Queen charming instructed the servants to set up as she went walked off, her dress dragging mud as she reached for her children.

“Mama!” Daring jumped in his mother’s arms his face smooshing into her neck, Dexter also waved at her from his place on king charmings shoulders.

Queen charming twirled her eldest around, admiring his sweet face as they made their way over to her husband.

“Have you been looking after your sister?” Daring beamed brightly as he jumped out of queen charmings arms, instead hugging Darling.

“Yup!” Darling softly hugged Daring back her cheek resting on his chest. “Tell her! Aren’t I the best brother?” Daring had a smug look on his face as he looked at Dexter.

Dexter jumped from king charmings shoulders, yelling as he ran up to the pair. “She’s my twin! I’m the best brother.”

Seeing an argument brewing, queen charming swooped down and picked Darling up shooing her sons off as she carried her daughter to the picnic blanket.

“How about some strawberry tart?”

“And pudding!”

Queen charming grimaced but nodded as she set the princess down, king charming setting her in his lap as he plated a serving for her.

“You know Darling you can tell us who is the best brother… we won’t tell.” Darling analyzed her parents before she glanced at her brothers.

She indicated for them to come closer before she poorly whispered, “Dexter.” Both parents pulled back in shock. They didn’t actually think she’d confess much less not hesitate.

“Why is that my sweet?”

“Daring is too… princely.”

Queen charming had to stifle a laugh a she gazed at her daughter. “Sweetheart that’s basically your brothers destiny. Both of them.”

Darling pouted as she stuffed her face with pudding, “but Daring is overly prince like. I like Dexter more for that.”

The charming parents exchanged a glance as both boys started to run towards them. “Darling please do not repeat that anywhere near your brothers again.”

Before she could question, both boys ran up to them, faces red with sweat from their running. “Mum I want a tart.” Dexter stood expectingly not seeing his sister take the last one.

“Come get it!” Darling ran of before anyone could comprehend anything, Dexter cried out in outage chasing his sister as she climbed a tree.

Daring was quick on their heel, a determined look on his face. Queen charming laughed her gaze then falling on her husband as he pulled her in.

Their lips met in a delicate kiss and there was one thing in mind. How they wished that they could freeze the moment.

——————————

Who doesn’t love some good family fluff and before anyone comes at me Ik that this not how canon king charming and queen charming behave but this is my fic

Anyway angst fic coming out on (probably) Thursday but I will try to post today and everyday until school begins

Hope you enjoyed and have a great dayy!!

[rebelwrites]

You Don’t Know Her Like I Did

Jax Teller x Reader 

Text in bold is present day and the rest is memories

Warnings Death

That day would stay with Jax until the day he died. The day his world finally crumbled, the day his life changed forever. The boisterous, loud mouth biker everyone knew had gone and had been replaced with a quiet, lost biker. He remembered the day like it was only yesterday, the one call that broke the untouchable Jackson Teller.

Leaning against his bike, he felt his phone ring for a millionth time. Pulling it out of his pocket he saw all the missed calls from his mom. Hitting call he pulled the phone to his ear whilst he lit a cigarette.

“Mom you know I’m on a run” he sighed.

“I know I’m sorry son but this is important” she sighed, by the tone in his moms voice he knew something was wrong, something had happened.

“What’s wrong?”

“There’s been an accident” Gemma said shakily. “It’s Y/N”

Instantly he felt sick, panic ran through his veins at the thought of his old lady hurt.

“I’m on my way”

Shoving the phone back in his pocket and tossing the half smoked cigarette in the mud he squeezed the throttle, racing home to his baby girl. He was at least two hours away from home yet he managed to get home within the hour, not caring about breaking the speed limits.

His feet pounded the floors of the hospital as he made his way to you. His heart shattered into a million pieces when he saw you laying in the hospital bed, cuts and bruises littering your soft skin. Tubes and wires keeping you breathing.

“What happened” he breathed sitting by your side taking your hand in his.

“A lorry ran a red light” Gemma said her voice barley a whisper. “Jax the doctors are saying it’s not good. We could, she might” she was unable to say the words but he knew what she was saying.

Brushing his fingers over your cheeks, tears streaming down his cheeks.

“Come on princess” he sobbed “just open then beautiful eyes for me. Please”

The only sound in the room was the steady beep of the heart rate monitor that was until the door opened, making Jax glance up to see who was entering the room.

“Sorry Jackie Boy” Chibs sighed “This one wants their daddy”

“Daddy” Harry said squirming in Chib’s arms before he place him on his feet and he ran into Jax’s arms.

Picking his son up, holding him tight in his arms he placed a long kiss on the crown of his head.

“Is mommy going to be okay” He asked as he played with the bullet hanging round Jax’s neck.

“I don’t know buddy” Jax sighed not wanting to lie to the 4 year old. “Mommy isn’t well baby, but no matter what happens I need to remember that she loves you so much”

A couple of hours had passed and nothing had changed.

“Okay Mr Teller, we are going to bring Y/N out of the coma and the rest will be up to her, unfortunately there isn’t much we can do at this stage” The doctor said softly as he did whatever he needed to do to wake you.

Jax watched intently as your eyes fluttered open, one look in them he knew things wasn’t good, the twinkle you normally had, was gone. He knew it was only a matter of time.

“My prince charming” You said, voice horse and not much more than a whisper.

“Mommy” Harry grinned trying to clamber into your arms.

“Buddy be careful with mommy okay” Jax whispered placing your son on the bed, watching as he snuggled into your side.

“Where does it hurt momma” Harry said placing his tiny hand on top of yours “You say kisses make everything better”

Jax thought he had no more tears to shed until Harry spoke.

“I don’t think kisses are going to work this time baby” You whispered using all your strength to hold your son tight, taking in his scent.

You and Jax knew this was the end, your body was shutting down and there wasn’t a thing anyone could do to stop it.

“Jax” You whispered looking at your husband who was trying to squeeze himself onto the tiny hospital bed.

“I know baby I know” He sighed kissing your lips softly, like you was made of glass.

“Look after our baby” You whispered tears streaming down your face as you felt yourself getting weaker. “Look after yourself, raise our son to be an amazing man like you”

“Baby I don’t want to let go” He sobbed into your hair.

“I know but you have to” You sobbed “Just remember I will always love you, you will always be my outlaw prince” Leaning down you placed a kiss on your sons head “my baby boy, I will always love you even when I am not here”

“Momma I love you too” Harry said looking up at your with his big blue eyes full of innocence.

“I love you” You said, your voice getting weaker.

Jax knew what was coming, he knew it was time.

“I love you to baby girl” He sobbed placing one last kiss on your lips, resting his forehead on yours, he watched your eyes close, a smile on your face as the monitor beside you stopped beating constantly and was now just one long beep.

Leaning against the bar, nursing the bottle of Jack, Jax felt a hand on his back. It had been 6 months since the worst day of his life, he had hardly been home, hardly seen his son. Just spent his days at the club.

“Maybe talking to someone will help Jax” Chibs said lowly.

“Don’t really feel like talking” Jax grunted “She’s gone and I feel it might just be too much to bear if I spoke about that day”

After a moment of silence Jax spoke again.

“You’ll never understand, no one will, you don’t know what we’ve been through. That girl’s my best friend and there’s no way you or anyone else is gonna be able to help me. She’s the only one who can and she’s gone” Jax said as hot tears rolled down his cheeks as he held onto his chain that now contained your wedding and engagement ring alongside the bullet. “Chibs, I can’t forget that day, no matter what I do and I feel like I’m drowning in all these memories. Our whole life together is replaying in my head”

The day you walked into the lot of Teller-Morrow, Jax knew his life was gonna change.

“Isn’t that Y/N Y/L/N?” Opie asked making Jax look up. “Yeah man, Jheeze not seen her since we dropped out of school” Jax said wiping his hands on the rag before sauntering over your you.

Jax had the biggest crush on you during his school years yet for some reason never had the balls to ask you out.

“Well I didn’t think I’d see you back in charming darlin’” Jax smirked.

“Fuck me, if it isn’t the famous Jax Teller” you laughed as he gave you a hug.

“But seriously what you doing in charming” Jax nodded offering a cigarette which you accepted, he noticed straight away you wore no wedding band “thought you’d be married to some pompous prick”

“I guess you are half right on that” you laughed pushing smoke out your nose “I dated a pompous prick but all the money in the world wouldn’t make me to go back to that life style. The bastard had an issue with me riding and how I dress so I left his sorry ass”

“Jheeze, guess you can take the girl out of charming but can’t take charming out the girl” Jax smirked “What can we do for ya”

“New tyres for the beast” you laughed nodding your head to the bike parked at your side.

Jax couldn’t help but smile as he watched you catch up with Opie, you had changed a lot since school, and definitely more women now, you wasn’t the skinniest person with your well defined hourglass figure, he couldn’t help himself as his eyes trailed your body, the ripped jeans hugging your curves, the vest stop revealing the perfect amount of cleavage, the battered leather bomber jacket was like a second skin, your hair pulled into a simple pony tail, cigarette hanging out your mouth. Jax was infatuated.

As he walked closer he overheard your conversation with Opie as you sat on top of the bench.

“He just couldn’t handle the fact I’m not who I was in school” you laughed.

Back in the day you were a straight A student Daddy’s little girl" Jax smirked making you roll your eyes.

“Maybe I just want a bad boy” you shrugged smirking as you saw Jax’s breathing hitch.

There was only one person that knew you had always crushed on Jax and that was Opie.

“I’m gonna sort your bike out” he nodded leaving you and Jax alone.

“If you want a bad boy then baby you got it” Jax winked “I’ll take you to the wrong side of the tracks”

After about half an hour Opie tossed your keys to you.

“So what do I owe you” you said pulling a wad of cash out your leather jacket.

“Put you cash away women” Jax laughed putting his arm around your shoulders “I think letting me take you on a date will be enough payment”

“And I can’t cope, it’s another death inside the family. It’s like she stole my way to breathe” Jax said playing with his wedding band. He could tell by the look on Tig’s face what he was going to say so Jax held his hand out stopping the words escaping his lips “Don’t try to tell me it stops hurting, don’t try to tell me she ain’t worth it”

The sound of little feet running along the hard wood floor of the club made Jax look up from the bottle. Reaching down he pulled Harry onto his knee.

“Daddy please don’t cry” Harry said standing on Jax’s knee wiping the tears from his eyes. “Momma wouldn’t want you crying”

“I know baby” Jax sighed kissing Harry’s head

“Are you coming home tonight?” Harry asked as he sat on the bar resting his feet on Jax’s stomach.

“I don’t know buddy” Jax said ruffling his sons hair.

“Pwease daddy” Harry said looking up through his eyelashes at him, tears filling his eyes “I miss momma too but you are never home anymore”

“I’m proud to be in the bad news crowd. The one my mama warned me about. The closest thing to hell she’s ever raised” you winked at Jax as you threw you leg over your bike “you coming baby”

“I’d go anywhere with you” Jax smirked placing his hand on your upper thigh, eyes full of lust.

“Come on then big boy let go bend the law and break some laws” you giggled placing a cigarette between your lips.

“Mmmm there’s other things we could do” Jax smirked running his finger across the top of your boobs.

“Maybe I’d let you do me on your bike” you whispered in his ear biting your lip causing him to growl.

“Grandma said we can order pizza tonight daddy” Harry grinned.

“That’s great” Jax nodded no emotion in his voice.

“Come on Harry” Chibs said picking him up and placing him on the floor. “Go find uncle Hap and annoy him”

As soon as Harry had ran off to find Happy, Chibs places a firm hand on Jax’s shoulder. Squeezing him tight.

“Right you listen here Jackie boy” Chibs said, his tone firm “you have a gorgeous son that’s trying so fucking hard to get his daddy’s attention and you are shutting him out, just like everyone else”

“Come back to me when you lose a wife” Jax scoffed.

“That shit don’t wash with me and you know it” Chibs snapped. Someone needed to be firm with him. “You aren’t the only one that is hurting. Everyday I find Harry just sat on the swing crying. The little lad is trying to be strong for his daddy”

“I swear you two was baptized in dirty water, by the hands of the devil himself, between the banks of a Whiskey River, beside the Highway to Hell” Opie laughed as he passed you and Jax a beer. “You are like the perfect match for each other”

Tonight was a massive celebration for your and Jax engagement, you was currently sat on Jax’s knee, his arm round your waist whilst your arms was tangled in his hair.

“Girl you got an outlaw. Ready to lay down all my guns. A dirty old hound dog. Learning new tricks like cuddlin’ up. You’ve got a hellcat purrin’ like a kitten. You’ve got a sinner down on his knees. It had to be hell on an angel. Lovin’ the devil outta me” Jax’s whispered as he kissed on along your jaw.

“Jax baby, we can’t dip out just yet” you giggled feeling full affect of the weed and whiskey.

“I will be quick” he smirked “promise”

“Fine” you giggled “show me a good time Teller”

“With pleasure princess” he said placing his hands under your ass as he carried you to his dorm room.

“I don’t have to sit here and take this shit” Jax snapped storming out of the club.

He threw his leg over his bike and sped off to the cemetery. The one place his brother wouldn’t nag him, the one place he could think.

Soon enough he was now sat in front of your grave.

“I’ve got too many I care about in this fucking place” jax sighed as he lit a smoke. “Babygirl I’m struggling, I really am. I don’t know what to do”

“It still amazes me even to this day how you got my every flaw, my rebel heart, every tattoo, every scar and still loved the outlaw in me” Jax whispered as a tear rolled down his cheek. “I know everyone is probably thinking I should be moving on with my life right now but right now I can’t, they didn’t know you like it did baby girl, they don’t really know how I’m struggling to live without you, I’ve hardly spent time with Harry and I know if you was here you be kicking my ass right now”

“Thought I’d find you here baby” Gemma said sitting on the grass next to Jax placing a soft kiss on his head.

“How did you do it Ma?” Jax asked tears clouding his vision “how did you carry on after JT died and continued to raise me?”

“I didn’t shut family out baby” she whispered taking his hand on hers “I leant on the club, I know you are hurting baby but you actions are hurting that gorgeous little boy of yours. He asked me today if you always be this sad”

“I don’t know what to do Ma” Jax sighed.

“Take some time off, let Chibs lead the club for a bit and spend some time with your son” she smiled softly “he lost his momma too and needs his daddy so much. I know things may seem dark right now and like there is no way up but the one thing that got me through my grief was you. You was the strength I needed to carry on every day”

“Daddy” a little voice shouted.

“Sorry Gem” Rat sighed panting slightly.

“It’s okay” she nodded.

Harry climbed into Jax’s lap, snuggling into his chest.

“I’m sorry son” he sighed burrying in face into his sons blonde hair “I know I’ve not been a good daddy recently, in fact I’m sorry for a lot of things”

“Daddy I don’t want you to be sad” Harry said placing his tiny hand against Jax’s cheek.

“I know buddy” Jax whispered wrapping his arms around him.

The two of them just sat there not saying anything, Gemma was right, the only way he would start to try and mean his heart was from the love from the 4 year old snuggled into his chest.

[brandstifter-sys]

Carry On

Five Times Remus Swept Virgil Off His Feet (and One Time Virgil Returned the Favor)

That's a FOB title if I ever saw one

Word Count: 2927                          (Ao3)

Characters: all sides

Pairing: Dukexiety

Rating: T

Warnings: self-doubt, sex mention, swearing, mild gore mention, undertale references, dc comics references, charlie the unicorn references

inspired by @sanders-sides-uncorrect-quotes‘ post linked here

One…

Sans. Virgil truly hated this battle, but he was set on finishing this run to get to the true ending the next time around. Too bad he was getting his ass handed to him by a punny pile of bones!

He growled to himself as his fingers frantically danced over the keys. He didn't care if anyone came into the common area while he was there, he couldn't afford the stress from his room and everyone knew to stay away from him or else.

Remus was not one of those sides who did what he was supposed to do all the time. So when he popped up in the common area, he didn't think twice about lounging on the couch next to his favorite emo.

"Oh come on!" Virgil snapped at his computer as he lost again. He clawed at his hair and let out a long, agonized groan before flopping back on the couch. His hands were shaking and his heart was racing. He was one more loss away from committing murder.

"Uh oh!" Remus giggled and got up. He closed the laptop and grinned at Virgil as the emo tried to murder him with his eyes.

"What do you want?"

"Me? Well I have to make a delivery to the Grand Duke of the Imagination! And you have what I need!" Remus hummed and wiggled his shoulders. Virgil scowled and crossed his arms.

"What are you talking about?" he huffed, ignoring the mischievous twinkle in Remus' eyes. That was a mistake!

Remus swooped down and scooped him up bridal style, laughing at Virgil flailing in his arms and squawking like a gull. He would never drop him out of nowhere! Silly emo could trust him!

"I'm taking you to the Grand Duke so he can spoil you and cheer you up! By any means necessary!" Remus purred and winked, bringing a delightful blush to Virgil's face.

"What the hell?"

"You are my damsel in distress and I don't even have to slay a monster to make sure you're okay—unless you want me to, there's definitely a monster I want to see, in your—"

"No. I am so done with monsters today. Don't even make that joke. Just do what you were planning," Virgil huffed and averted his gaze, no longer squirming to get away. Remus could live with that as long as he could keep holding this tall drink of water!

Two…

Remus was just polishing his morning star when he decided it was a good time to harass his brother and talk about the only thing they seemed to agree on: butts!

He appeared in the common area to the sound of a Disney movie, it would have been perfect, but Roman was not alone on the couch. Oh no, he could clearly distinguish a mop of purple hair next to the prince’s own preened locks. Neither one seemed to notice the duke looming behind them, which was good. Surprising Roman was way too much fun!

“How can you claim this isn’t romantic and charming?!” Roman grumbled as Prince Philip and Briar Rose began to dance and sing in the forest. Virgil snorted and shook his head.

“There’s nothing more romantic than a total stranger in his 20s swooping in and interrupting a 16 year old girl’s furry fantasy without an introduction or asking,” Virgil droned sarcastically. He snickered at the offended gasp that came out of the prince’s mouth and shifted in his seat.

“You wanna pause this and grab some popcorn? My leg fell asleep.”

Before Roman could move Remus struck.

“Hello there! The angel from my nightmares, the shadow in the background of the morgue!” he sang and scooped Virgil into his arms, twirling around with the brightest grin imaginable. Virgil squeaked and clung to him, more out of surprise than fear. He should have seen it coming.

“I think my point stands,” Roman teased, smirking at the pair like a cheshire cat. Virgil shot him a death glare, daring him to say anything more while Remus giggled impishly between verses.

“Perhaps you should take care of that leg and we can continue later. I would hate to rob you of a moment like this!” the prince continued, making Virgil flush and plot his end. Remus laughed and brushed Roman off.

“Looks like I’m the dashing heroic prince today! Better luck next time Hoe-man!” he sang and sunk out for some much needed cuddles. Roman rolled his eyes, ignoring the sleight in favor of appreciating how cute those two could be. Plus he could rewatch his movie without critique!

Three…

Virgil was exhausted. After a long study session for the next video, making sure that Logan knew his lines and keeping Janus from making them take a break, all he wanted to do was fall into a coma. But he was still in the common area and he would have company if he didn't move, but that meant moving. He drooped, letting his limbs hang off the couch, wishing he had the energy.

That was a mistake, and he knew that he would regret it. Especially when something slimy glided up the back of his hand.

"Gross," he grumbled, not bothering to look at the culprit. Remus giggled and licked his hand again before kissing it. He got off the floor and on one knee, smiling at his emo.

"You know you love me!" he teased and brought Virgil's hand to his lips again, "You're like my personal damsel in distress and I just love saving you and making you feel like a princess!"

"I'm not a damsel, just tired. Can I take a nap in peace?"

"Not out here, Scare Bear! You know it gets crazy with the others around!" Remus giggled and scooped him up without any struggle.

"If you take me to your dungeon to do horrible things to me in my sleep, make sure I have both kidneys intact."

"No promises, Charlie!" Remus teased and resituated Virgil so he could rest his head on his shoulder, "But I can promise you a comfy bed and the best snuggle buddy ever!"

"You're bringing Winary? Hellhounds don't make for great cuddles. They stink of brimstone," Virgil mumbled against his neck.

"Nope! You get to cuddle with a stinky dukey!" Remus countered and walked towards his room with his precious cargo.

"I'd rather cuddle with you," Virge mumbled and curled into Remus' chest.

"But I am a stinky dukey!" he said, fighting back the urge to squeal. Virgil huffed and wrapped his arms around Remus.

"I like your scent. It's comforting, like a puppy that likes mud."

"You Sir are exhausted!" Remus declared, "And you are taking a long nap with me so you can get that snark back!"

"You better be there when I wake up," Virge answered, barely able to keep his eyes open. Remus was happy and he was sure to be there the whole time.

Four...

"Virgil, you can't just call Remus every time something mildly inconvenient happens. He's not your footman," Janus huffed as Virgil curled into himself. He was going to summon Remus for a good reason. It wasn't his fault that the duke showed up every time he stubbed his toe!

"I know that, Snake-face," he huffed, "I don't actually summon him when they happen. He just knows."

"And you do nothing to stop him. It's not good for you to be dependent on him for everything. There's a fine line between self-care and sinking into bad habits."

"I'm not sinking into bad habits, Janus. I'm fine with being toted around if it makes him feel like he's being heroic instead of a villain."

Janus sighed and shook his head. Virgil had a point, Remus needed to feel wanted and needed. And who better to provide that for him than Virgil? Remus adored him!

"And I want him to show up right now," Virgil mumbled and hugged his knees. His skin was crawling and he was freezing. Was it too selfish for him to want to have Remus hold him and keep him close? Was he taking advantage of Remus wanting to be someone's hero? Was he even good enough to get that kind of attention from the duke?

"Remus!" Janus called out, rather than sit by and watch Virgil spiral. He sank out at the same time Remus appeared.

Remus got one look at Virgil and immediately pulled him into his arms. Virgil melted into him and let out a contented sigh.

"Scare Bear!" Remus cheered and spun on his heels, "My spider sense was tingling! What's wrong, Bitter Sweetie?"

"I just need some creature contact," Virgil grumbled, "and you're the most comfortable creature I know."

"So no slaying your demons or disemboweling anyone?" Remus giggled and dropped Virgil on the couch before flopping on him. Virgil shifted and wrapped his arms around Remus' waist.

"Nah, just don't leave. I need a Cuddlefish."

"And you got me for as long you want!" Remus giggled and nestled his head under Virgil's chin.

"You're gonna be here for a while," Virge hummed and soaked in the warmth Remus provided.

"I don't mind," Remus said, "I like it here!" And that was an understatement.

Five…

Remus was just going to the kitchen for a snack—he had some prairie oysters with his name on them! But he paused in the middle of the hallway when he saw Virgil on a step ladder, painting a wrought iron fence mural over his door. He was so focused, so pretty, Remus had to stare.

"You know, creeping on someone who's on a ladder is considered a bad idea."

"Do I look like the guy who has good ideas?"

"No, I should know better, you like me."

"No talking bad about yourself!" Remus growled and loomed closer.

"Oh, that's not what I meant. I mean you like the one guy who can kick your ass and you keep calling him a damsel. Last I checked, I saved you from the Dragon Witch twice this week alone."

"It was hot!" Remus agreed as Virge bent over to get more paint on his brush, carefully holding onto the wall, "But that doesn't mean you can't be a damsel too! You're like Dick Grayson—perfectly capable of kicking ass, but also very much in need of some saving every so often! Plus I think you'd make those shorts look good! Almost as good as I'd look getting into them!" Virgil jolted away from Remus as he was getting up again and lost his balance.

It felt like forever, falling backwards with nothing to grab onto. He was sure the impact would be annoying, but not terrible. If he were any higher up his instincts could have easily taken over and he wouldn't land on his back. But that impact never came. Instead he landed in a pair of strong arms.

"I knew you'd fall for me and my feral mojo!" Remus giggled down at him. Virgil stared at him for a second before swiping his paintbrush over Remus' nose.

"Sure, Puppy, you tell yourself that," Virgil said with a smirk, "It's not at all because you had the audacity to call me Dick Grayson when I'm more of a Jason Todd."

"You're more of a hottie who needs to snuggle with me after that kind of fall!"

"You really need to consider just asking like a normal person," Virgil jeered and kissed his cheek.

"Why would you ever consider that? Boring! You need some excitement in your life and that's where I come in!"

"I thought you came in—"

"Dirty jokes are my job!"

"I thought you came in like Peter Parker on a wrecking ball. Chaotically trying to save me from every mild inconvenience," Virge reiterated and wrapped his arms around Remus' shoulders before kissing his cheek again. Remus was a happy boy.

And then...

It was just perfect! Remus was so excited to finally have a gift for Patton that he would like! He appeared in the common area in the kitchen, just out of sight of the duo watching Looney Toons. Patton and Virgil were in for a treat!

He set Fluffy on the floor and motioned towards the couch. The little thing sprinted off in a pale pink blur and Remus waited for the cooing and squealing from Patton.

His heart shattered when all he heard were horrified screams coming from the father figure. He sank out to his room and fought the urge to cry. Fluffy would be able to get back to the Imagination without him.

Virgil paused the show and watched Patton scoop up the hairless cat with tears in his eyes.

"Look Virgil!" he cheered and held up the cat like she was Simba, "A kitty I can pet!" Virgil blinked twice, confused as to how a cat found her way into the commons. That's when he spotted the green collar around her neck and the silver tag hanging from it.

"Can I keep her Virge?" Patton pleaded as Virgil checked the tag. He had a hunch that Fluffy was meant to be with Patton.

"You're asking me?" he jeered and got up, "Let's find the guy who made her and ask him. I'm pretty sure Remus set her loose to find you."

"Remus? He made this little angel?" Patton gasped and cuddled her to his chest. She purred and kneaded his hoodie, getting him to squeal again.

"I'll go get him, and let you two get to know each other," Virgil said with a half-smile. Patton beamed and him and sat on the couch, cuddling his new best friend. Virgil sank out before the cuteness became sickening.

But any mushy feelings faded when he appeared in Remus' room. Amid the weapon racks and canopic jars, Remus was curled up on his bed, hiding his head between his knees.

"Octopuppy?" Virgil asked softly and sat next to Remus. The duke looked up at him with his makeup running down his cheeks.

"Scare Bear?"

"What's wrong?" he asked and brushed a stray piece of hair from Remus' face. Remus shook his head and let out a ragged sigh.

"I can't make anything good."

"Your dog is not gonna be happy to hear that."

"She's a hellhound with three heads. She's not good or normal. But she's a good girl," Remus grumbled and wiped his eyes. He was not about to cry again. Virgil coaxed Remus into his lap and pressed a kiss to his forehead.

"What makes you think you can't make anything good?"

"I made a cat for Daddykins and I really tried to make her perfect for him. But he screamed at the sight of her. You know, you were there," he pouted and hid his face in Virgil's hoodie. Virgil pouted and held him closer.

"Can I show you something?" he whispered, "Something that can prove you can make something good."

Remus nodded and clung to Virgil as he stood. The emo cradled him to his chest and smiled down at him.

"Looks like you're my damsel this time," he teased and sank out, adoring the blush that crossed Remus' face.

They appeared in the common area kitchen to the sounds of giggles and cooing. Remus looked to Virgil for answers only to get a smirk in return.

"Hey Pat!" Virgil called out and carried Remus into the next room. Patton was curled up in his hoodie, using the string to play with Fluffy. Remus had never seen him so genuinely happy.

"Virge!" he cheered, only to coo at the sight of the gruesome twosome.

"I found Remus, so go ahead and ask."

"Remus, can I keep Fluffy? Please? I'll take good care of her! I promise!"

"I made her for you, so yeah, of course you can," Remus answered, completely stunned. Virgil knew that tone all too well. He had only a matter of seconds before a tsunami of feelings crashed over the duke. He would need cuddles.

"Thank you so much Remus!" Patton squealed and hugged Fluffy, "I'm gonna show her my room!" He sank out, leaving the pair to claim the couch.

"You good, Pup?" Virgil asked and hugged the duke, leaning into the cushions. Remus nodded and nuzzled into his chest.

"Good, because right now you're stuck cuddling with me until my legs fall asleep," Virgil mused and kissed his head. Remus shuddered and his breathing hitched.

"I did good," he whimpered, "I finally did a good and made a good thing."

"Finally? Remus, you make a good thing every day—you make me feel loved. You're my knight in slimy armor."

"That's just cuz I love you."

"I love you too, and I think it's only fair that I get to be your dark knight for a while. Because it's okay to need a little help, even if you don't think you deserve it."

"Who taught you that psychiatry crap?" Remus pouted and hid his face in Virgil's hoodie so no one would see him crying.

"You might know him, he's a wily little imp with a lot of passion, a flair for the dramatic, and macabre tastes. He's a handsome sweetheart and don't even get me started on his butt."

"He sounds like a pain in the neck!" Remus giggled.

"Only if he bites," Virgil snickered, "and he's my hero. So don't you dare try to talk shit about the Grand Duke of the Imagination."

Remus giggled and clung to him. He couldn't ask for a better boyfriend and he was pretty sure he didn't want to either.

[shortnotsweet]

Ooh, have you possibly entertained the idea of Prince(ss)/Knight AU with Fiveya? I think either in the roles would be very cute and the whole situation thinking they both have unrequited loves on each other due to their own duties/honor really tugs on the heartstrings!!

A Witch, a Prince and a Princess

Even as a child, Vanya yearns downwards, down the spiralling view from the castle she would have long since abandoned had she any choice in the matter. It’s tall and grand, the grandest in the kingdom, but it’s become shriveled, an empty shell, like a ghost that has not lost its bones. Up in the turrets, the clouds are gritty and stifling, and the ground below and the land beyond are much more appealing, so much so that she dreams of riding a white horse past the borders of the kingdom and into the line where the sky sinks to meet the earth.

For a steed like that, she’d have to be a knight, or something of the sort. Higher nobility owns the best horses, ones that aren’t thin and sickly, or packing mules, but Vanya’s no princess, and she’s certainly no knight. She’s just a servant, one who was born just outside the borders of the kingdom, within the green outskirts of the King Reginald’s reign.

Even as a child, Vanya knows not to speak of her origin of birth - sorcerers haunt those woods, or so the whispers say. Demons lurk within the trees, and when night falls, it brings with it magic, and naked women dancing under the full moon, casting spells and disturbing all that is holy, sacred, and good. Besides, magic is outlawed in Reginald’s kingdom, and exists freely only outside its borders - after a ten-year long campaign to purge his lands of witchcraft, the filthy stuff, (and a decade of rolling heads, fresh from the executioner's block, of limp bodies swaying under mottled necks, feet drifting above the ground, of the night air saturated with broken shrieks as the flames of the pyre grew taller and hotter) Reginald had finally established prosperity and unquestioned political strength amongst the Five Kingdoms, cementing his place at negotiation tables.

No one dares speak of the Sixth Kingdom, lost to the world, its remains scattered throughout the rest of land.

Vanya is a mere twelve when she meets him first - she’s mimicking the knights dueling on the training grounds, wielding a stick that’s not too thick, not too short, and imagining rows and rows of opponents being felled. They’re not too far from the crops, effectively dwarfed by the field of tall dry grass and hidden from sight. She sees only the sky above her, gaping and huge, until she notices him crouched close to the ground, eyes bright with something she can’t place.

“Who goes there?” she shouts, whipping around, still in character, and he emerges good naturedly from the grasses. He’s a boy around her height with dark hair dark eyes, not unlike herself, but when he grins, dimpled and slightly lopsided, Vanya notices his teeth, white pearls against his gums.

He has good teeth, she thinks, numbly.

“Just watching,” he says, cocky and charming in a way that only twelve-year-old boys can be.

“Well - do you want to play?” she asks, because Pogo may be her uncle and not her real father, but he raised her right.

“What’s the game?”

“I’m a knight,” she says, “and you can be the damsel, if you want.”

The boy frowns. “I’m not a damsel. I’ll be the knight - I can rescue you, then. It’s less work,” he adds, as if to entice her. Vanya wrinkles her nose. “You’re the girl, anyway, don’t you know how it works?”

“That’s stupid,” she says truthfully, because she was playing first, he only just showed up, so of course she would know how to play. His face twists in clear annoyance.

“Do you know who I am?” The boy advances, petulant, and Vanya’s makeshift sword shoots out to rap him across his skinny chest, preventing him from coming any closer. Instinctively, his hand comes up to catch the tip, and he glares at her from the other end.

“You’re a stupid boy,” she snaps. “What do you know?”

He bares his white teeth at her. “I know you’re just a servant waving a stick around,” he snarls. “What would you know about being a knight?” When you’re just a serving girl, and always will be goes unsaid, but it’s the smug gleam in his eye that Vanya clenches her fists around, knuckles whitening in her anger.

“More than you!” Vanya shouts, vision blurred by hot tears that roll steadily down her cheeks. Her throat feels tight, uncomfortably so, and her head is light and ringing - it’s as if she’s fevered, not thinking straight.

“I’ve been training to be a knight my whole life!”

“Oh? And how long have you been training to be a prat?”

Outraged, the boy’s face begins to turn a curious shade of red as he sputters, “I’d watch my mouth, you dimwit, I’m the crown prince!”

Without thinking, Vanya gives a loud, unladylike scoff and leans forward to poke him hard in the chest. “My mistake. How long have you been training to be a royal prat, my lord?”

It slips out quick, too fast for her to anticipate, too angry for her to snatch back. The second the words escape her, Vanya stops dead, heart in her mouth and eyes wide on her face. She can see him better now: he’s well-groomed, with a clean face and dark hair, with fine clothes that can’t belong to a stableboy - stableboys don’t wear silk. With blood rushing in her ears and pounding in her head to the drumbeat of a death march, she instinctively backs away, feeling both incredibly small and suddenly enormous, like a target.

The crown prince moves toward her, reaching out a hand, a small gesture that’s hardly threatening, but Vanya reacts anyway, winding back her fist and sending it as hard as she can into his nose.

She doesn’t stay to inspect the damage. Instead, she runs.

He’s left staring after her, blood streaming down his face and onto the collar of his shirt. Five, twelve years old and set to inherit one of the greatest kingdoms in the land, falls in love for the first time of his life. He doesn’t know, not yet.

It’s been two weeks she’s spent sulking around the castle. Her Uncle Pogo is an advisor to the King and the castle’s appointed medic, and it’s a wonder she’s never seen the prince in person before - it is, Vanya reasons, a big castle, but she should have known better. No issues for her arrest and execution have reached her ears, or her Uncles, so perhaps the prince had forgotten about the event (or he was biding his time, waiting to strike).

It’s the latter, but she doesn’t know that, not yet.

The evening is setting into the sky, and her uncle has already retired to his chambers, leaving Vanya to her own devices.

Vanya ducks into the armory, looking both ways before dashing in and between the rows of gleaming metal shapes that she can barely make out in the dark but could attach a name to in a heartbeat. She reaches a tentative hand out to touch a spare breastplate hung on the wall, eyes wide, when someone clears their throat behind her.

Vanya turns, and dark eyes bore through the darkness. A white smirk flashes down at her, and she backs slowly toward the door.

“I’m sorry, your highness, I was just - looking.”

“Wait!” the prince calls out quickly, a hand outstretched. “Don’t go - I’m not - I’m not upset.” She hesitates, wary, and he steps closer. “What were you looking at? The armor?”

Vanya nods. “That’s - that’s good. Knowledge of weaponry.” The prince scratches the back of his head, eyes shifting around. “That's useful. For a knight.”

“Right,” she agrees, and he smiles, oddly gentle, as if he’s afraid she’ll shy away and bolt. “Was your nose alright?” she asks after a moment, inspecting what she can make of his face. It looks alright, with no bruising or deformations, and his grin only grows sharper.

“It was fine.”

“That’s good, your Highness.”

“Five.”

“What?”

“It’s Five,” he says. “Only the servants and visiting nobles call me your Highness, and it gets awfully formal after a while.” Vanya cocks her head.

“I am a servant.” After another significant pause, “your Highness.” She gives him a short courtesy, eyes on the ground, and hurries past him and out of the armory.

From then on, it seems that she can’t get rid of him. He doesn’t catch her in the courtroom, but everywhere else, from the stables to the kitchens, she thinks she catches him lingering in her peripheral, ducking out of sight before he becomes tangible. It’s his castle, so he can go wherever he wishes, but Vanya would really appreciate it if he’d only leave her alone and put her out of her misery - she hasn’t been sent to the stocks, but when his face lights up after running into her on the stairs, she hurries away anyway.

Five finally catches her climbing an apple tree near the woods, and she knows that he had to have ventured out on his own - he has no escort, not even a manservant with him, and from the way he was craning his head, it was clear that he was looking for something. Seeing as he’s the crown prince, Vanya thinks, it probably wasn’t apples.

“I can see up your skirts,” he calls up to her in that unabashed way of his, demonstrating a devastatingly poor choice of wording that he won’t grow out of for a long while. “You should be careful, you never know who could be walking by,” Five tells her helpfully.

“It’s a tall tree,” she says defensively, readjusting her footing. Five only regards her skeptically.

“Rapists can climb,” is his response, and she can only gape down at him, bemused and startled by his impropriety. What a weirdo, Vanya thinks.

He finds her again by the creek, and she ends up pushing him in. After he doesn’t resurface for a good minute, Vanya jumps in herself, horrified, wading through murky water and shouting his name.

It’s a mistake, and she finds herself wishing that she’d killed the crown prince after all, when he only grabs her wrist and pulls her further into the water, laughing all the while.

They return to the castle covered in mud, half-drowned and extremely pleased with themselves.

King Reginald was not pleased, and the rest of the servants weren’t either, due to the tracks of mud painting the corridors.

He’s started training with the actual knights, and the next day, Vanya pulls him into the grasses and demands that Five show her everything he learned.

Five gives her an empty scabbard, promises he’ll get a sword next time, and she hands him fresh bread swiped from the kitchens. She’s good at sneaking around unnoticed, particularly at night - recently, she’s noticed a change. Vanya has more energy at night, like the moon gleams brighter, like the sounds of the dry grass dancing under the sky get louder, like the wind turns sweet and speaks to her.

It feels like magic, sometimes, but she doesn’t mention this to Five. Magic is outlawed, anyway, and Five may be Five, but she’s still a servant, and magic is still punishable by death.

The next week passes, and her thirteenth birthday passes along with it.

He finds her on the surface of the lake, drifting along on her back. The pale veneer of her small clothes cling to her like a second skin, and she looks nearly drowned, with her eyes closed, a white body against the dark of the lake. She’s a lovely, half-dead creature, and he doesn’t want to pull his eyes away from her, but he does, if only for propriety’s sake.

“What are you doing, swimming alone at an hour like this?” he calls down instead, and her eyes snap open, startled. Vanya twists around, losing her careful buoyancy and slipping below the surface for just a second - when she comes back up, spluttering, he’s laughing at her.

“It’s one of the Seven Points of Agilities!” Vanya coughs out. “I thought you, of all people, would know about knighthood.” He sobers, for just a moment. Vanya’s dark hair is plastered to her face, and his mouth twitches.

“Women aren’t supposed to know how to swim,” he tells her carefully, rolling his sleeves up to his forearms, looking torn: should he wade in to help her out, or wait for her to clamber up herself? “It’s a sign of witchcraft.”

“Witchcraft!” Vanya exclaims, amazed, but Five only shakes his head.

“If you’re a witch, they’ll have you burned, you know.”

“I’m not a witch,” Vanya hisses. You prat, she nearly adds, but he is the crown prince, so instead she resigns herself to half-heartedly splashing lake water at him.

On Five’s fourteenth birthday, Queen Grace convinces his father to throw a grand celebration. The feast is full of things he loves to eat: game, beef, and pork sit in steaming piles down the tables, and slabs of venison are stacked next to sweet wine. The hall is singing, glowing warm against its stone walls, and Five looks utterly miserable seated at the high table. He catches her by the eye, pouring drinks for the knights, and beckons her over with a finger. Vanya looks both ways and makes her way towards him through the throng of people, hesitant, but just before she reaches him, a voice stops her in her tricks.

“More wine, girl,” one burly knight barks out at her, and she freezes, apologetic. Vanya averts her gaze and turns away. Five frowns.

“It - it felt wrong.” he confesses later.

“What does?” Were my clothes too drab, too plain, even for a serving girl? You’ve already seen me covered in mud, it shouldn’t matter to you, Vanya thinks.

Five’s brow wrinkles, and he speaks slowly, as if he’s working something and his mind is moving faster than his mouth. “Seeing you.” Her heart stutters, then plummets, but he plows on. “You’re all - docile, and quiet, and -” and you won’t look at me, not in the eyes, he doesn’t say, but he means it.

“That’s how I am, Five.” Vanya feels more exposed than she was that day at the lake, smallclothes dripping wet and clinging to her skin, and she cringes at the feeling, gluing her eyes to the floor. “You’re just a servant waving a stick around,” he’d said all those years ago, and even when she’d punched him in the nose and run away, she knew even then, deep down, that he was right. “That’s what I am,” Vanya finishes in a whisper. Except when I’m with you.

Five doesn’t look like a boy anymore, he looks like he’s going to become a man.

“Maybe someday a frog will kiss you, and you’ll turn into a handsome prince,” Vanya deadpans one afternoon. He’s escaped his guard, again, and they’re perched on boughs of the apple tree again, passing one red fruit back and forth between them.

“You think?” Five asks, chagrined. Vanya smiles and nudges his shoulder.

“Seeing as magic’s outlawed, that’ll probably never happen,” Vanya says carefully, and feels a rush of relief when he only tips his head back and laughs. He doesn’t look like a boy anymore, he looks like a prince, and the other servant girls giggle about his crown and the broadness of his shoulders and the way he’s shot up like a vine these past few summers, a head above Vanya herself, but her eyes linger on his jaw and his eyes and she marvels at how he’s changed so much and he’ll keep changing, but some things, she prays, will stay the same.

She doesn’t know what he sees when he looks at her, but a part of her hopes that will stay the same, too.

Vanya spends her fourteenth birthday alone and terrified, huddled against the wall of her bedroom.

From the forest, the druids watch.

Aelwen is rising.

On Five’s fifteenth birthday, he participates in his first tournament, armor and everything. He meets her eyes from across the grounds as servants secure his helmet, and even after the visor flips to obscure his face, she can still feel his gaze.

Vanya watches him from the stands and ignores the way her heart rises in her chest when one knight gets in a lucky hit, sending a mace crashing into Five’s chest. Five hits the ground and Vanya screams, and the crowd shouts with her, outraged, but he’s back on his feet in a second despite his smashed breastplate.

“I never got a favor,” he tells her later, after he’s subdued his opponent and rests in his tent, waiting for the next round and sweating like a dog in his armor. Vanya’s just a servant tasked with bringing the crown prince water, but he looks up to her anyway, reaching up for the pitcher.

Vanya hands it to him, watches as he drinks straight from the rim, water dripping over the sides of the pitcher, down his jaw, and into the neck of his armor.

“Just for luck, then,” Vanya murmurs, pressing her plain white handkerchief into the hand of his gauntlet.

He smiles.

“You’re getting betrothed?”

“Not yet. It’s...in the works. Her name is Dolores - oh, don’t give me that look. She’s well-read, respectful, and an incredible dancer. She also comes with a large plot of land and wealth, and Father - what?”

“What else do you know about her?”

“I just gave you a list, Vanya.”

“She’s an asset to the court. Beyond that, you make it sound like she’s a doll, like she comes with - with benefits, instead of character traits. Does she have a personality? Dreams? Hopes? Fears?”

“I - well, I don’t suppose I've ever asked,” he says, taken aback.

“She’s been staying here for three months.”

“I’m busy.” Five says with a shrug. Busy with you, he doesn’t say. Vanya plucks at the strings of his latest gift: a violin made of pale wood, a foreign gift he’d never himself had use for but kept because he could appreciate the music it made - he’d just never had time to learn it.

“Too busy to spend time with a potential queen?”

Prince Five doesn’t marry Princess Dolores. Dolores, having her own hopes, dreams, and fears, doesn’t mind all that much, and the next week passes easily.

“It’s the last of the agilities,” he murmurs against her ear. Vanya pulls back from his grasp to look at him, puzzled.

“What?” It’s well into the evening, and Five doesn’t usually stop making sense to Vanya until mid-morning, at least.

“Dancing.”

Oh Vanya, asks the moon, since when are you a romantic?

Since always, she replies.

Vanya’s gathering roots when she meets someone in the forest that isn’t Five.

“There a prophecy, you know. A lot of them, actually,” the boy tells her. His eyes are lined with kohl, and his hair is a mess, but his solemn face is both dignified and kind. The boy is skinny and covered in a black cloak made of gleaming feathers. His name is Klaus, and he speaks of the future. He speaks of death.

“Death?” she whispers.

“I see it. I know it.” Klaus taps his temple, and smiles at her. “You can, too.”

“I don’t understand,” Vanya pleads. It’s a lie, but the dread in her voice isn’t, and Klaus only kindly shakes his head at her.

“The moon is rising, and so is Aelwen, the White Witch prophesied to free the druids from their exile and lead the Six Kingdoms into its Golden Age.”

“I’m just an ordinary servant.” Vanya insists, but Klaus only takes her by the hand and gestures upwards toward the gleaming moon and back to her hand, which is white in the dark, ethereal against his own flesh. Her eyes widen; she’s seen opals and diamonds and all sorts of finery, but she’s glowing.

“Aelwen, you’re extraordinary,” Klaus says, and for one moment, Vanya believes him. It’s fleeting, but it’s enough.

“Five!” she calls, and it travels through the courtyard as if carried by the wind itself. From the distance, Five whips around and looks up, craning his neck to squint at her in the heat. I’m going to miss you, she says with her eyes, but she only smiles and waves.

He waves back.

Hope, Vanya knows, lives on the same road as Despair.

On Vanya’s fifteenth birthday, someone tries to kill the king, and Vanya hones in on the sound of the dagger whipping through the air to send it right back at the assassin, embedding it in their chest. King Reginald is alive, but his glass monocle cracks down the middle, a result of the blast of energy Vanya releases into the air, built purely from sound.

The monarchy is saved, and a witch is set to burn at dawn.

“You lied to me.”

Silence.

“How long, witch?”

“Not for long.” I promise.

“‘Not for long’?” The words are spat through the bars of her prison with a broken kind of fury, and she flinches. “What does that even mean? Why wouldn’t you - was any of that real? The entire time, were you - did you -”

“I saved his life!”

“You lied to me!”

“Of course I lied, you prat! You were my best friend, and you were perfectly content with me as a servant, but suddenly I’m not, and now - now you’re going to kill me.” She glares up defiantly at him in the darkness, face lit by the torches.

The flames burn smoothly, warping the line of her jaw and illuminating the gleam of her eyes, which are glinting - not supernaturally, he realizes, but with tears. He looks back at her through the bars of the cell from where he’s sunk against the floor again, looks at her free anger, sees her finally set ablaze, and wonders who’s truly imprisoned.

Five closes his eyes for a moment, imagines dawn breaking the sky, Vanya’s head rolling across the courtyard, eyes unblinking. He envisions her waterlogged corpse, waxy and painted with veins that creep up her face like vines, drowned by a barrel. He sees her engulfed on a pyre, her screams rising into the sky like the shriek of birds fleeing to the west.

The Prince will pursue her on horseback - she is an escaped prisoner, after all and a dangerous witch to boot. He’ll take some of his best men, from Sir Luther with his legendary strength, to Sir Diego, one of the most skilled knights in the land. He’ll search for weeks, because a witch hunt doesn’t end easily. She must’ve used witchcraft, the sorceress, because there was no open window for her to escape from, not unless someone handed her the keys to her cell door and ushered her through the hidden tunnels of the castle and away to freedom.

You told me once that I was just a servant girl, and I would always be just a servant girl, she thinks, and waits for some vindictive pleasure to surge up inside her (because he was wrong, and all she’s ever wanted to do was to prove him wrong, just once, and there’s no moment more opportune than this). It doesn’t come.

(It was a long time ago.)

Klaus takes her hand, firm but not unkind, and gently pulls her away, until they’re running, tearing through the long grasses and towards the woods, and they begin to recede into the darkness of the trees, and the castle becomes but a shape in the distance. Before the forest closes its arms and takes her, though, Vanya tugs from Klaus’s grasp and whips around for one last look - this glimpse, of the kingdom where she fought and nearly burned (and very nearly, very possibly fell in love), will have to last her.

She turns to take the plunge, a white shadow against the trees.

It will be a long three years.

King Reginald dies quietly, without a fuss, an incredible feat for a man so cruel. He’d be rolling in his grave, though, if he knew of the prophecies that were whispered throughout the kingdom, of the Druid uprising, led by their own prophesied princess, Aelwen, the White Witch. The ban against magic was lifted within the second year after King Reginald’s death, and ever since, signs of magic and its people have evaded the borders of the kingdom. She’s coming for the kingdom, whisperers the baker. She’s not here to attack, says the midwife. She comes to avenge, the blacksmith suggests. No, confides the wise man, she comes to unite.

They meet just outside the borders of the kingdom, within the green outskirts of the King Five’s reign. The tall dry grasses sing and dance around them, and he takes in her proud, dark eyes, small mouth, heavy, dark hair, and white cloak draped over her small shoulders. He drinks it up like a dying man.

“I request an audience,” the Sorceress says, “with the king of these lands.”

“I’ve been waiting for you,” the King says, and leads them to his horse.

“At night,” the King says slowly, “I dream. I dream about the future. Do you know what I see?”

“No.”

“The sun hasn’t set yet, you know. I could still have you burned.” Five suggests.

Vanya tilts her head, considering, then nods solemnly. “You could,” she concedes.

“But…?”

“But I am extremely powerful. I could kill your kingsguard and set your entire kingdom ablaze before you even had the chance to gather wood for the pyre,” Vanya confesses, and Five crosses his arms.

“Ah.”

“And, of course, burning me would nullify any impending treaty. My people are rather averse to witch burnings.”

“Are they, now?”

“We’re very progressive these days.”

“It’s a good thing, then, that I am too.”

“It’d also look rather bad on your part, having been crowned merely days ago, pledging to start a reign of peace and tolerance, to immediately start another decade-long war.”

“Indeed, it would. I am so fully committed to decades of peace, in fact, that I am appalled that you would even suggest such a thing.”

Vanya turns to the window, to the courtyard below. The sun washes the pavement yellow, illuminating the bustling crowd like an open field of dry grass. “Anything else?”

“I’ve also been told that I’m a huge prat,” Five says mildly, and leans down to press his mouth to hers.

She kisses him back soundly, as if in agreement.

end

Seven Points of Agilities” – riding, swimming and diving, shooting different types of weapons, climbing, participation in tournaments, wrestling and fencing, long jumping and dancing – the prerequisite skills for knighthood

I know nothing about medieval times. This was strongly inspired by Merlin and The Swan Princess, so historical accuracy? Who is she?

Aelwen, “fair browed” in Welsh

@maradeur thanks for the ask, and sorry for taking literally a month to respond. I have a few more prompts and I do intend to get to all of them, I just want to explore them properly, and I’d feel bad giving some prompts 2k words and background research and other ones like, half a paragraph, but I do read all of them and love everyone who asks so keep it up y’all

[rainbows-fanfics]

Can you do a Louistine/Clouis fanfiction where Clem is hurt/ haven’t slept in a while and is sleep deprived and doesn’t tell anyone and Louis finds out and help her? Please I love Louistine and there are barely any Oneshots about them :,)

I wrote this along with an idea I’ve always wanted to do(even though it’s been done before). Sorry for how long it took to get to your request, anon! But thank you so much for the prompt! I’m having difficulties getting enough Clouis inspiration right now…

Louis’ P.O.V.

I like to think of code names for situations I don’t know what to do in. It gives me a sense of validation with the impression that if I name something, I clearly know what I’m doing. Even though I really don’t. Like when we were expecting that raider attack - I didn’t tell anyone, but that was secretly operation ’Impending Deaths’. I named that one last-minute when we were all fearing for our lives that night.

Right now, I had another code name, as I was faced with another situation I had absolutely no idea what to do in. It may not be as life-threatening as Operation Impending Deaths was, but it was keeping me on edge and, for moments at a time, I just couldn’t think straight. I hated coming off as too desperate at times, but right now I was missing something. Well, not someTHING, but someONE.

It was operation ‘Finding Clementine’.

It feels like I’ve been searching for hours when, really, I know it’s only been 10 minutes. What originally was a quick trip to ask whether she’d want carrots or potatoes in her stew tonight turned into a mission. I couldn’t find her in her room, in the dorms, in the courtyard, and in a rushed attempt, not even the greenhouse. I was tempted to search in the roads or the forest but after asking everyone, they reported Clem hasn’t left the school. To their knowledge, at least.

It was a good sign when I found A.J. with Tenn on lookout. He told me she left to take care of something. Where? He didn’t know. So here I am now - pathetically searching every inch inside of these walls calling out her name trying to find her. The mission was growing more serious the longer I went on.

I finally came to the basement and shut my eyes for a moment, remembering the mess that happened in here. I opened them again and pulled on the doors slowly, finding the darkness past the steps a little intimidating as I called out her name for the 200th time.

“Clementine? Are…you in here?”

…

Snap!

I jumped back in surprise when I heard what sounded like a rubber band snapping come from inside. I began to climb down the steps and took a weary look around. There was light down here, but it was past the boiler and the shelves. I gripped my weapon behind me as I slowly followed the trail, shivering when I saw the pool of blood I passed. I didn’t like coming down to the basement for this exact reason. This shit was always scary.

“Ugh…fuck…”

I felt literal music come to my ears when I heard Clem’s voice. Even if it sounded agitated, it did wonders to my heart as I discarded Chairles and rushed to find her. I found she was leaning against the wall messing with her arm, her eyebrows drawn together and her lips curled into a snarl of disgust. When she saw me come, she hid her arms behind her back and changed her expression into a surprise one.

“Oh, Louis. I didn’t see you there.”

“I’ve been looking for you. Why are you down here?”

She fluttered her eyelashes as she looked around, moving her other arm to a random box and tapping it. I noticed she didn’t have an immediate response, as if she hadn’t been expecting the question. She drew her eyes back to me and shrugged lightly, tapping her fingers against it and watching as the dust came off.

“I was just…looking for something. I, uh, found it.”

“Well, what’d you find?”

“…”

“…”

“A ruler.”

“…What’d you need a ruler for?”

“A.J.” I gave her a dumbfounded look. “For his drawing. He needed to make a straight line.”

“Okay, 1. You’re a terrible liar, 2. I’ve seen the kid draw, he doesn’t worry about those types of things, and 3. There’s no ruler around you in sight.”

“Look, I- agh! Shit…”

I hunched down by reflex when she took a sharp intake of breath, baring her teeth and swearing with a hiss. She slowly removed her arm from her back and clutched the spot I found her messing with earlier. I got closer to her until she held up her hand when I was only a few inches away. I turned my head to the side and found a nasty wound she had on the inside of her arm. I could see the blood and forming infection of the scrape.

“Damn! That shit looks horrible.”

“Thanks, Louis, I didn’t know.” She retorted sarcastically.

I brushed past her hand and grabbed her arm for myself, feeling her try to draw back as I tightened my grip. Just looking at her laceration caused me to breathe through my teeth. I wondered when the hell this happened - when she was out last time or if this came from the struggle of the raiders. It looked fresh, but that was all I noticed before she pulled it away.

“I was trying to patch it up. Using some supplies I got from inside.” She looked at it and frowned. “Using one hand without a table is a lot more difficult than I thought…”

“Why didn’t you ask for help? Ruby and Tenn are great at this.”

“It’s just a little cut. I didn’t want to worry or burden anyone.” She attempted to treat it again. “Besides, I’ve had worse.”

“Uh, yeah, but that doesn’t mean you shouldn’t get help when you need it. Willy scraped his arm on the concrete one time and Ruby helped him with no problem.” I took her arm again and grabbed the bandages she was attempting to use. “At least let me wrap it for you.”

“That’s fine, I guess. I already put some stuff on it.”

Without fighting me again, Clementine allowed me to bandage it for her. While I did this, I couldn’t help but think. If she didn’t want to bother ‘anyone’ with this, then that meant she didn’t want to bother me, either. But it could really matter less to me what injury she has - she could have a paper cut and I’d still find something for it. It bothered me that she didn’t know this.

“Look, I get that you’re a badass and you can handle things, and a minor cut is not the end of the world-” I cut the end of the bandage. “-but just know that I’m here for you for anything. Not just to listen, but if there’s something you ever need, I can deliver. I’m not as good with medical stuff, but I’ll still try.”

She sighed with relief and returned her arm. “Thanks, Louis. It’s not a big deal. If it was, believe me, you’d have known.”

“Even the slightest thing such as a mud puddle in my Princess’ way is a serious situation.” I quipped. “I’d sacrifice my coat for you, you know.”

“Like you haven’t already.” She rolled up her sleeve and shook her head. A troubled look overcame her features. “Actually…there’s something else you can help me with. And don’t laugh when I tell you what it is.”

“We’ll just have to see, won’t we?” I leaned back and crossed my arms in amusement.

“Can you cut my hair?”

“…”

“What?”

“Say that again?”

“Can you cut my hair?” Her tone turned stern. “I have to keep it short and it’s long again. I’d do it myself, but then it’d be lopsided. And I don’t want to hear the millions of questions A.J.’s going to ask me about my cut if he does it.”

“Well, yeah. I can do that. There should be a pair somewhere in the dorms - I think Ruby owns a pair. I’m sure she’ll let you borrow it.”

“Really? That’s great. I was going to use my knife, but that works a lot better.”

“…Just like she would’ve helped you with your abrasion there…”

“I don’t want to hear it, Prince Charming.”

———————————————

A pair of scissors in my hand and a couple minutes later, we’re  now in Clem’s room. She grabbed the chair from the desk and slid it over to the middle of the room. When she takes a seat, my eyes widen when her hands come to her hair. I’ve seen her without her hat before, but I haven’t witnessed her without pigtails. My jaw naturally drops when she pulls them out and her hair falls down to her shoulders.

It was amazing, to say at the least. I grabbed it in my hands and felt its texture between my fingers. I separated a few strands of her brown hair. It reminded me of mine, but hers is a lot softer. The longer I take trailing my hands over it, the more I become mesmerized with Clementine’s hair. I forget all about the scissors in my hand and what she’s asked me to do. I take a step back and admire how it looks on her again. Then I went to feeling it again.

“Are you done with…whatever you’re doing?” She snapped me out of my thoughts.

“Huh? Oh, yeah, right. Right.” I started clipping away. “Your hair looks…cute.”

She turned to glare daggers at me. I corrected myself weakly. “I meant it looks pretty. On you.”

She rollee her eyes before returning her head back to its former position. As I cut the ends of her hair, I noticed how tense and silent it is between us. I’ve only went to get my hair trimmed a few times before. Whenever I went, the stylists talked to me about random things. Should I do that now? Or bask in this rich, awkward silence?

“Gotta’ admit, I’m a little attached to your long hair now.” I pause. “…Why do you cut it?”

“Lee told me to keep my hair short. So walkers can’t grab onto it and get me.” She moves her head down to stare at her lap. “I had it long when I was a kid, and people have grabbed me by it before.”

“That makes sense. The pigtails make it harder to grab.” I snip at her sides. “Who, uh, gave you those bands?”

“…”

“..?”

“Lily.”

“Oh.”

The awkwardness resumes as things grow quiet again, no noises besides my cutting. It’s taking a lot longer than I presumed it would. These small scissors let me cut only a little bit at best. Was this really all we had? I could swear I’ve seen a bigger pair around before…

“So, uh, what do you do with…your hair?”

“Me?” I’m surprised at the question. “I grow it out. Keep it in dreads for the same reason. My hair does what it wants, really.”

“Ah.”

“…Is there any way specific you want me to cut it? I get you want it short, but didn’t people used to, uh, style their hair?”

“You can do whatever. I keep my bangs to the side, anyway. No one really notices since I’m wearing my hat all the time.”

“-Or to hide the horrible haircut your boyfriend is about to give you?”

“You can’t be any worse than Javier was.” She tittered. “I never saw it, but I could feel my hair was uneven and cut too short and too long at parts.”

I focus and look at my job so far. It’s exactly as she described. I begin to fix it, chuckling nervously as I do so. I think she notices because I hear her giggle again. I trim her hair until it reaches just at the start of the back of her neck. I take a step back and move her head straight so I can tell if it looks okay. Okay being mediocre, that is.

“Well, alright. I think we’re done here. And, um, don’t kill me if you don’t like it, okay?”

I watch with anticipation as she runs her hand through her hair and grab at certain parts. She feels around her neck where it once was before standing up from the chair. She brushes her bangs to the side and turns around to me slowly. I end up gawking at what I see - a Clementine with freshly-cut short hair surrounded by complimenting rays of sunshine behind her back. Her golden eyes glow as she looks up at me and smiles, making my heart thud against my chest as we both stand there.

“How does it look?” She asked.

I revel in the uncertainty of her voice. She appears very timid with this, as if my opinion would make or break the way she feels about her hair. When I realize I’m taking too long to answer and her smile starts to drop, I take a step forward and look at her with half lidded eyes.

“You look beautiful.” I tell her.

“R-Really?” Her eyes widen. I swear I see a blush on the ends of her cheeks.

“Would I really lie about my girlfriend’s appearance?” I ask her. “Well, yes, if you were covered in walker guts and you asked me how you smell. I’d reply, ’you smell just like lavender and dandelions, darlin’. And then I think you’d punch me.”

She laughs and nudges my arm. “Come on! I’m serious! You…really think I’m beautiful?”

“Why wouldn’t I? You’re my girlfriend. And…you look amazing.” My breath is hot as I say this. “As for my job on your hair? Well, I’m naturally gifted. So that was a given.”

She smiles and pokes around her head. “Well, everything’s about even and I’m not bald anywhere. So I’d say you did a good job, too.” She stops and the frown drops, but when she gazes up at me, it grows back and her eyebrows raise slightly. “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome. Clem, I…you shouldn’t be afraid to ask me for help with this…stuff. Not just for cutting your hair and letting know how beautiful you are, but I’m here to support you. You know. Like you do with me.”

“Are you telling me you want a haircut, too?” She puts a hand on her hip coyly.

“We’ll see how much I trust you before I let you lift a hand on my precious dreadlocks.”

I brush my hands along them and close my eyes for effect. When I hear Clementine laughing in the background, both my chest and heart swells. She takes the bands and puts her hair in pigtails again, returning her hat in its place right over it. But even after all of that’s done, I still can’t get the image of her with her hair down out of my head.

She really is beautiful.

[writtingsofspn]

Aladdin AU

Summary: Aladdin AU!

Pairing: Sam x reader

A/N: Finally continuing with my Disney princess AU list! Please please please let me know what you think and if you’re as excited as I am for the rest of this story!

You’d always loved spying on these meeting between your father and his advisers, finding the perfect hiding spot just outside the door when you were only 7. It made you feel important, informed of all matters, prepared in case you ever need be. Not that you ever would.

Years ago the matters seemed much less daunting, a thief stealing cattle from farms in the south, neighbors quibbles blown out of proportion, things such as this. Now, however, each meeting concerned the same thing as the last: money, or rather a lack there of. Citizens starving, the homeless population growing larger, family businesses disappearing, all caused by the treasury being all but empty.

This was what today's meeting concerned of course, and as always Amal, your fathers most trusted adviser, had an answer.

You listened as most of the men trickled out of the room, discussing amongst themselves what is to be done for the kingdom, while Amal stayed behind preparing to propose something he would not dare discuss in front of the other advisers.

“You know my king” He began, the mere sound of his voice making you want to roll your eyes “there’s always the solution I brought up last meeting”

You father sighed loudly “I told you once and I’ll tell you again I will not hear any more of that suggestion”

“But your majesty-“

“I will not be betting this kingdom on old wives’ tales”

“It is not as though you have another option sire”

Another sigh came from him, you could all but see him put his head in his hands, the stress of the kingdom’s situation weighing heavily upon him.

“Legend tells of riches far beyond any mans imagination” Amal continues cautiously “Certainly enough to save the kingdom for decades to come”

“Where can we find such riches” You could hear the defeat in your father’s voice, making your stomach drop.

“Many speak of a tomb buried deep beneath the kingdom, accessible only through caves on the northern shore”

“Then send a team to these caves, have them look for this tomb”

“I’m afraid it is not that easy your majesty” Amal chuckled “legend says only one man has any hope of finding this tomb, the son of the man who built it”

“So the fate of my kingdom rests in the hands of the son of a man who built a magic tomb that only reveals itself to him” A laugh and a pause as your father reveled in the hopelessness of this situation “So be it then. Amal, I trust you and only you to find this man. Do whatever necessary”

“As you wish your majesty” You could hear the giddiness in Amal’s voice as he said this which just made you sick. “In the meantime what are we to do with the people”

“Distract them I suppose” Your father sighed “Just until we can secure the money”

“A royal wedding perhaps”

You felt your heart drop. Surely they weren’t speaking of your own wedding. You were but a child, you knew no men to whom you could marry. Certainly you couldn’t get married to a man you didn’t know so soon.

“Y/N won’t be happy…but I suppose sacrifices must be made.”

And with those words your fate was sealed.

-

Dean awoke to a loaf of bread hitting his face. Groaning as he pushed himself to a sitting position on the hard ground.

“Where’d you find this one?” He asked as he tore off a piece and shoved it into his mouth.

“The baker is very easily distracted when beautiful women are nearby” Sam chuckled.

“So you dressed up as one?” Dean teased causing Sam to roll his eyes. “Did you already eat a loaf yourself?”

“Yes” Sam lied, the memory of the smiles of the poor kinds elicited from the loaf of bread given to them that Sam had stole for himself bringing a smile of his own to his face.

Dean nodded, seeing right through his brother as he tore his own loaf in half and threw it at Sam before he could protest.

Sam only nodded in response, catching the loaf easily and startded chewing on a piece of it happily. “So what’s on the schedule for today?”

“I’ve got some leads on work” Dean answered groggily “Check those out then I guess find some place to sleep for tonight”

Sam nodded, taking another bite of his loaf “Dean…we’re not going to be able to keep this up for that long”

“We won’t need to Sam” Dean answered looking off into the distance “We’ll find work, good, steady work and one day get off the streets, be able to actually buy our food…not have to pose as women to get it”

His attempt to lighten the mood having the desired effect as a small smile pulled at the corners of Sam’s lips. “You think so?”

“I know so”

-

“They tied me to a tree since they were in such a hurry but felt bad for me, in spite of me being a prisoner of war, and thus left me a sword and a promise to come back. When they did they found me still alive but surrounded by bodies sliced to death by my own hand”

His story had an air of being well rehearsed, the passion with which he told it much similar to that of a man over compensating for something.

“Wow” You said with as little emotion as possible; the prince, however, took no notice.

“You know there are many beautiful women in my home country” He said changing the subject as if it were a natural progression.

“mhm”

“I could have any of them if I choose” He continued undeterred “But the pull of a women with the title of princess is something else’

You paused for a second, honestly unsure of whether or not you were expected to thank him for such a comment.

“I guess what I’m trying to say is” He didn’t even look at you as he said this, instead inspecting his nails as he lounged in his chair casually “I would be honored if you were to give me your hand in marriage”

“No” The answer came to you quickly and easily though that was hardly a surprise.

“What?” The prince’s gaze snapped to you and he immediately sat up straight. This was undoubtedly the first time you had his full attention this entire encounter.

“I said no” Now it was your turn to lounge in your chair and inspect your nail bed mockingly “You clearly don’t care about me, are incredibly rude, remarkably narcissistic, and quite frankly I’d rather jump off my balcony than marry you”

The prince stared at you in total shock, his mouth hanging open slightly. And you’d be lying if you were to say that brought you no pleasure.

“And on that note I bid you adieu” You stood and bowed mockingly, turning around to take your leave.

“Don’t you dare walk out on me” The bite in his voice caught you off guard, turning around to find him on his feet and very red-faced. “Never have I met a girl so selfish-so vile-so undeserving of my affection”

“Me? Selfish? Vile?” You laughed “Have you looked in the mirror? You waltz in here as if you own the place, as if you were entitled to my hand.”

“I’m a prince” He spat as he folded his arms over his chest “You’re a princess, you do the math” And with those charming words he stormed out of the room, no doubt to complain to your father before going back him in the twelve carriages employed to bring him here.

You made your way towards your room, pausing only when you heard your father’s assurances to the prince as he tried to salvage the situation, knowing you were in for it once he left making you sigh before slamming your door behind you.

Your father forced it back open not soon after, much quicker than you were expecting. “What was that Y/N”

“He was an ass” You shrugged.

“Language please” You father sighed, plopping himself onto your bed.

“He is!” You cried “He was incredibly rude and didn’t care about me at all”

“Y/N there aren’t that many princes in this world, you unfortunately don’t have that many options”

“I know” You sighed “but I do still have options. I know that finding someone I love may be out of my reach but I at least deserve someone I like, someone who cares about me”

“And after word gets out about how you treated that man how many of those princes do you expect will be willing to come see you”

You were shocked into silence, you honestly hadn’t considered that. “But he treated me poorly as well, why isn’t his character being dragged through the mud as well”

“You’re the woman, you’re always expected to be significantly better behaved, as unfair as that is it’s how the world works”

You sighed, putting your head in your hands “Why do I even have to get married, it’s not fair”

“I know but as a princess it’s your duty. You owe it to the kingdom”

“I feel…I feel like a prize” You groaned “Being auctioned off to the best bidder”

“That would imply that you have no choice” Your father shook his head, grabbing your hand comfortingly “and you do. These men are for your choosing, not the other way around”

You made no answer, not fully accepting this answer but not having the motivation to object.

“I just ask that you be civil to all those to come”

“Alright, I will be civil” You promised, offering him a small smile as he left the room, collapsing dramatically on your bed as soon as the door was shut.

You laid for a while, doing nothing but staring at the ceiling before walking out to your balcony and looking out over the city. You just needed to escape your life, just for a bit. To not be reminded of your upcoming wedding to god knows who for just a day. To be a normal girl.

And so you resolved to do something about it, to not just sit on your ass feeling sorry for yourself for a change. You walked to your closet, finding a dark coat with a large hood and throwing it on before slowly climbing your way down the balcony.

It’s about time you took your life into your own hands.

-

You kept one hand at the base of your hood, keeping it draw close to your head doing your best to hide your identity as you strolled the streets, feeling at peace for the first time in who knows how long. As you neared the center of town, however, things took a turn as the effects of the kingdoms poverty became more prevalent.

Young children sat on each street corner, grumbling stomachs heard from blocks away. You reached one particular street in which tables piled high with goods lined each side of it. You looked at the poor kids on the curb, their large eyes looking up at you pleading for help. Looking around you saw that the table next to you was piled high with food, surely this man could spare just one apple for hungry children.

Without second thought you plucked one from the table and handed it to one of the children, watching with a smile as he ran quickly down the street with his prize.

“What do you think you’re doing” A harsh voice broke your train of thought as you saw the man behind the table leaning over it yelling at you.

“I hope you plan on paying for that”

“Oh-I-uh” You hadn’t considered bringing any money with you, still not sure why this man was so angry over one measly apple.

“That’s what I thought” He shook his heads before yelling out “Guards guards, thief!” and pointing right at you. You didn’t have time to think before your hand was seized and you were being pulled down the street.

Part 2

[exileseverafter]

The Exiles Ever After: Chapter One

This is the story of a giant baker down on his luck and kicked out of his home, a would-be Prince Charming with a pet bear, a curious scientist princess and a good-hearted liar in a world that’s a bit like our fairy tales, but also very much not. It also features toads, wolves, cakes, violent plants, commerce, trauma, and an uplifted moth. 

New chapters crossposted Tuesdays and Wednesdays. If you like it, please RT.

For Ezra’s 18th birthday, he treated himself to fresh pecan rolls and listened to a flute concert in the village square. For his 19th birthday he was exiled.

Likely nobody realized the significance of the day he was sentenced to gather as many of his belongings as could fit on his back, climb onto the back of a saddled roc and let the roc driver carry him away from the Cloud Island of Mielle. No one was that intentionally cruel. Even the judge seemed to sympathize even as she ignored his pleas and protests. The elderly lawyer arguing on his behalf had set a bony hand on his shoulder and sighed, shaking his wig-clad head. “It’s just how people are, Mr. Kettle. This sort of thing doesn’t happen here. People need someone to blame.” Ezra was prone to travel sickness and promised himself he would not mingle it with spite as the enormous, red-feathered bird sailed through the atmosphere. He would rise above this. It was nothing but a setback, one of many the brilliant and misunderstood were likely to face in their lives. The more he reflected on how gracious it was of him to forgive the angry citizens in the jury, the better he felt about himself. Anything was a comfort in a time like this, when the cold, thin air stung his face and left him shivering in his too-light coat. “Didn’t bring a parka with you, laddie?” The roc driver was far too jovial and friendly to have ended up in the position she had, Ezra thought. Sammie, as the woman called herself, wore the heavy leathers and hooded mask of one used to braving the chilly winds; only her eyes were visible. She had a rather deep and throaty laugh. “Lucky for you the spring’s coming down there. Wouldn’t want you to freeze.” “Wouldn’t want me to freeze, would they? No, they’re just content to let me rot.” Ezra imagined he had nothing to lose by talking with this woman; he certainly couldn’t make a break for it on the back of a bird soaring over a valley. “S’not so bad! Not so bad at all. I’ve driven exiles in far worse states than you’re in, and they always make it. Usually, anyway. Weather’s a bit harsh, what with the rains. Oh, and you’ll have to get your land legs; that’ll take a bit. And plants take much longer to grow. And then there’s the humans…” “I know! I know. Thank you, ma’am. I did my research on the Center of the Universe in the time I had.” It was, Ezra thought, kind of them to give him a few days to prepare before he was banished. Considering the charges, he knew they didn’t even have to offer him that. Perhaps the judge was more merciful than she revealed. “My husband’s brother had a friend whose grandfather traveled to the Center of the Universe. Willingly! Old Kentammenon just hopped off onto a mountain peak and made his way down from there. Drank from the streams and ate the creatures he could catch.” Ezra blew on his hands to warm them better than his gloves were doing, and looked back up at the driver. “Did he? Was he a humanologist?” “Nay, he was up to his ears in debts!” Sammie laughed again, steering the roc into a sharper turn than Ezra cared for. “Read about diamond mines in the Center and thought he could make his fortune that way. Funny thing about diamond mines; dragons love ‘em. One bit his hand right off.” Ezra paled, covering his mouth. “Was that meant to be encouraging, ma’am?!” “You didn’t let me finish, laddie! He knocked that dragon upside the head and took it down with one blow. The little human folk were so impressed, one of ‘em gave him a job with a traveling show. Kent made his fortune that way, and he didn’t have the sense The Sun gave a baby buzzard.” Sammie looked over her shoulder briefly, and he thought he saw her wink. “With all those books, I’d guess you to be a scholar. Am I right, laddie?” Ezra tugged the pack of books, jars and cooking pots tighter over his shoulder, even if it strained his back. “I’m a cook, actually.” “Then those are recipes?!” “They’re family heirlooms. The recipes, I mean.” Ezra now felt rather foolish having brought them instead of more important necessities, but he couldn’t abide leaving his pride behind with what was left of his family home. “It’s a way to make a living.” The pilot just shrugged. “Long as the humans know you don’t want to cook any of them. They get strange ideas in their heads about we Sky Folk. Comes from living so far from the sun. Makes the body puny and the brain odd.” She tapped the side of her head, and then whistled. “Alright, girl! We’re almost there, so time to bring her in!” The descent was far too quick for Ezra’s stomach; he barely realized what had happened until the bird reared back and landed in a cluster of great tall fir trees that towered far over his head and brought to mind thick hair brushes. They were standing at the bottom of a rocky cliff covered with lichens and green moss. Ezra wondered at first if Sammie had stopped here in order to let the bird rest and drink from a stream, but she looked expectantly at him over her shoulder. “Well, laddie? This is it!” “This…what? What do you mean, this is it?” “The Center of the Universe. We’re standing on it. It’s quite big, you know! A huge marble covered with things. You need help getting that down? Noticed you’re a little on the short side…” Ezra shook his head, dumbfounded. “No, I can get down just fine.” Despite his reassurances, he had to take a few false steps and then more tumbled than dismounted from the roc. His bag followed after, spilling cookbooks and pots all over the too-hard, too-damp surface of the forest. He scrambled to recover his belongings and save them from the mud before he continued, gesturing all around him. “I know it’s the Center of the Universe! I read about it, remember? So I know this is a forest. But I was told I’d be sent to somewhere I could make a living. Like a town, perhaps.” “A town? Full of humans? Can’t believe you’d take that kind of chance after what happened when you trusted one of them.” The memory stung, and Ezra sucked in a breath. Sammie continued, oblivious, as she dismounted the roc and landed with far more grace. “Doesn’t help that some of the Folk down here feel the need to throw their weight around and give us a bad name. You know what sorts get exiled and all. No offense meant to present company,” she added while ignoring Ezra’s glower. “Word of advice, stay away from the wee humans. They won’t trust you and you’d best not return the favor. Cook for yourself from what you can hunt and forage. Maybe sell some cakes to the local witches in exchange for charms and chicken eggs. They’re not afraid of anyone.” The last of the line of Kettle, chefs who shaped custards out of lightning and soups littered with stardust, and he was to spend the rest of his life in oblivion in the woods eating nettle stew because of some overgrown beanstalk. “Where am I to live, then?” he asked, no longer attempting to hide the defeat in his voice. “I was told I’d be given a place to live.” “And thankful you should be for that! Usually they just send you on your way with your belongings and let you do as you will. But I suppose you’re not yet two decades old so they had some mercy. You’re to live right there.” Sammie pointed to a path through the crooked trees. The canopy of the forest dimmed the sunlight even at high noon; what escaped fell upon a dilapidated, one-floor cabin with a tiled roof staying on apparently through willpower alone. The tiny shapes of birds nested in the windowsills, and an overgrown mess that might once have been a garden crowded around a stone well. “…Oh.” Ezra wondered if he shouldn’t be thankful it wasn’t a cave. “This used to belong to a fellow by the name of Chulainn the Great. Bit of a cranky sort as he got older, and the humans started calling him a wicked giant. Get used to hearing that, by the way. Humans think they’re normal-sized. Anyway, it’s got furniture and a stove; ought to serve you just fine, though I’d get it fixed up some before winter. Suppose you could find yourself another place if you wanted. The Center of the Universe is your prison, not that house. Well! I suppose this is goodbye…” Sammie moved to slap Ezra on the back, but then seemed to notice the way he was staring at the lonely little cottage. Her eyes creased in sympathy, and she gave him a pat on the shoulder instead. “You’re younger than my daughter. I think it is unfair what they did decide for you, laddie. But…” “It’s for the best, I know. Public good. People feel safer when there’s someone to blame.” Ezra sighed and started walking towards the cottage. “Thank you for the transport, ma’am.” “You’ll be fine. The young always thrive better. Just…do be careful who you open your door to, won’t you?” He looked over his shoulder with a rueful smile. “Oh, no worries. I intend to be very careful about that from now on.”

(Author’s note: If you’re enjoying, please RT! You can find the full story linked on the main tumblr page if you don’t want to wait for the Tumblr posts.

[lamiaward]

Swan Queen Week, day 4 : Family Vacation

I do not own OUAT

It was just another day in the Swan-Mills household. Emma was singing under the shower, leaving a trail of dirty clothes from her morning run. Regina was trying to yell over the very loud music, before walking down the stairs tying the sash of her robe angrily. Henry was dragging himself upstairs five minutes late, wiping his eyes and only opening them when he arrived at the kitchen and accepted a mug from his mom. And then the habitual chaos was interrupted by Lucy running inside.

Regina slowly turned away from the kitchen counter, and stopped the usual complaint about some of Emma’s habit that was really more for show, and Henry stopped hiding his grin behind his cup of cappuccino. Lucy grinned at them both, panting.

She held up the animal in her hands like she was presenting it as the rightful princess/prince of the animal kingdom. “ Look, I found a cat” she proudly announced.

Regina stared at the cat.  “She is a handsome specimen “ she stated, and Lucy nodded happily. “ But I will not tolerate cats in my house, nina”

“ But grandmaaaaa” Lucy said, holding the tabby cat up again. It looked utterly unimpressed by that, although it didn’t once try to fight itself free.

“ No. I already have enough work with your other grandma, who needs to be fed and cleaned after as well, and my job. Ask your father” she nodded in Henry’s direction and went to work again. Lucy immediately ran to Henry, and placed the cat on his lap.

“ Look papá, it is so amazing. It is really smart, and understands us” Lucy raved, petting the tabby cat that was sitting stiffly on Henry’s lap.

He looked down at it. It was looking at Lucy, who kept gently petting it. Oddly, it wasn’t purring or moving or doing any of the things cats usually did when you petted them.  “Is it really that smart, pequeño Guerrero?”

Lucy smiled. “It is so, so smart papá”

Henry returned the smile. “ It is, huh?” he carefully petted it, once. “All right. I think- “  he was cut off when Lucy threw her arms around his neck, and kissed his cheek happily. She kissed the cat on its head as well, then happily said ‘come on, Jane Austen, we are going to show you to other grandma!”

Henry stared as the cat gracefully leaped off his lap, and followed his little girl as she walked out of the room, happily chatting to the cat. He slowly turned to his mom. “ Is that normal cat behaviour?”.

“ Is what, mi cielo?” Regina said, sliding another pancake on the tower that was on a plate next to her.

“ Just- it seems kind of different, and we actually do know people who were turned into mice. So should I check whether it is all right?”.

“ I did not feel any residual traces of magic, but I will admit I did not pay the utmost attention” Regina said, turning around to smile at him. “ I will look at it as soon as Lucy and Emma have joined us for breakfast”.

Henry grinned at her.  “Thanks mom” his expression became a lot less carefree. “I don’t ever want to risk her getting hurt”.

“I have a son with the same taste for adventure and foolish heroics, so I know the feeling” Regina said drily.

Henry just grinned.  “I know him. He gets all that from his mom”

Regina tried to look stern and unimpressed, but her eyes were glinting. “ He does take after the sheriff in that way, yes”.

“ Nope. I meant his other mom, the totally badass queen and mayor for nearly forty consecutive years”

“That is ridiculous. She would – “

There was suddenly a loud yell and a sound not unlike a body falling and a mirror shattering. Regina and Henry shared the exact same look of fond exasperation (although Henry’s was a lot more amused). Regina handed Henry her apron, and walked out of the kitchen. She marched up the stairs, and into the bathroom.

She was unsurprised by the sight.

Emma was on the ground, wrapped up in the shower curtain like a rather sheepish caterpillar. To the left of her, there were pieces of glass that she would glance at and flinch. In front of her was Lucy, the cat cradled close to her chest and with an expression Regina absolutely agreed with.

“She started screaming and wouldn’t stop” Lucy says, looking down at Emma.   “Are you okay, abuela?”.

“ I WAS NAKED” Emma said

“Mi alma, you have never shown any qualms about being naked before”.

“ SHE IS OUR GRANDDAUGHTER. I DON’T WANT HER TO SEE THAT”

“ Look at Jane Austen” Lucy said, more or less shoving the cat in Emma’s face. Emma sneezed, and was so surprised she finally stopped yelling. She looked at Regina, then looked at the cat, then finally at Lucy.

“Jane Austen?”.

“Si. I first wanted to name her after a superhero, like maybe wonder cat, but she is so graceful and smart so I decided on a writer”

“ All right. You got a cat, and decided that it didn’t matter you would give me a heart attack as long as I saw the cat” Emma muttered, face-planting.

Lucy beamed. “Isn’t she extraordinaria? “

Emma lifted her head, and forced a smile. “Sure. Can I get dressed now?”.

Lucy nodded. “ Sure”

Regina kissed her forehead. “ Just go downstairs, bonita, and help your dad with making breakfast” she nodded at Emma, and lowered her voice  “I will take care of your foolish abuela”

Lucy shrugged. “ Okay” she smiled at Emma. “Bye abuela! I hope you get out of the shower curtain, it’s really not a good look” and then she and the cat left.

“I blame you for how much she acts like a little queen sometimes” Emma groused, pushing herself up.

Regina snorted. “The girl engages in mud wrestling, refuses to use a saddle when riding and just yesterday pointed out all the ‘pretty toxic flowers’ that were in the forest. That is not exactly queenlike behaviour”

Emma grinned. “Of course it is. You behave like that” at Regina’s look, she shrugged. “ Maybe not the mudwrestling, but you love horse riding and I am pretty sure you started her obsession with toxic flowers. Also, you have a bunch of stuff you secretly love but pretend to hate”

“ I will inform Whale immediately of your concussion”

Emma rolled her eyes. “Just help me get up”.

“ Although I am not certain whether vivid hallucinations and stupidity can be caused by hitting your head. Perhaps is just the Charming heri- “

“ Regina, cut it off” Emma groaned.

“ You broke my mirror, and you still haven’t cleaned anything. Your muddy tracks are still in the hallway, your sweaty clothing is strewn through my room and -  “

“ I fell, can’t you even be concerned about that?”.

“ Not when it happens every two weeks, ma patosa, and you still somehow manage to not anticipate it”.

“ Not like this- and really, can we do something about Lucy? Can’t let her wear a bell, or something”.

“ Get up, darling” Regina said.

“ You can at least ask nicely’.

Regina waved her hand to fix the mirror and started walking out of the room. “ Suit yourself. There is an abundance of greasy food downstairs, but I am sure we can eat that without your help”.

Regina was only barely out of the room when she heard Emma struggle to get up behind her. She rolled her eyes but also smiled when she heard the furious cursing behind her. Usually, Regina actually had a fouler ( and swear words that were more creative than the ‘fuck’ Emma preferred) mouth, even if she showed it only in certain circumstances, but Emma could give her a run for her money right now.

She walked into the kitchen with a bright smile that grew even more when she saw Henry point out things and calmly answer the stream of questions Lucy was firing at him. She shook her head when Lucy would command Henry to wait so she could tell the cat she had placed on the counter next to her what exactly Henry was saying.

“ How many times have I told you that my kitchen do not function as chairs?”

“ But they are comfy” Lucy protested.

“I very much doubt that” she said. “ Get off my counter, Reinita”

Lucy shrugged, and jumped off the counter. “ I like knights better, abuela”.

Regina smiled. “ Yes? “

Lucy nodded. “ I wasn’t sure for a long time, but now I definitely think knight is the best option”

Emma choose that moment to walk into the kitchen. “ Because your badass grandma is a knight?”.

Lucy shook her head. “ Knights don’t have to dance” she said happily.

Regina arched her eyebrow. “ You love dancing”.

“ I love modern dancing and ballet “ Lucy said, demonstrating.  Emma clapped happily, and Regina smiled brightly. Lucy plopped down in her chair after her demonstration, grinning. “ I don’t like the dancing at balls”.

Emma grinned and sat down as well. “ Don’t like your greatgrandmother hear that” she said

Regina smirked. “Actually, do tell Snow” she and Snow were very close, but they still seemed to enjoy aggravating the other just slightly. Or maybe , in Snow’s case, it was just kind but slightly(really) oblivious behaviour. On the other hand, you would expect the woman to know at least part of Regina’s dislikes, considering they had lived together for ages. And really, Emma could’ve sworn her mother was smirking when she surprised Regina by building that birdhouse in the garden without permission.

Lucy giggled.  “ Okay, abuela. Can I wear one of your dresses to the next ball?”

Emma choked on her drink, while Regina sat down regally and picked up her fork calmly. “ Why is that? “

Lucy shrugged. “Greatgrandma is really nice and I love her, but we don’t really share the same clothing style”

Regina smirked, but Emma interfered before Regina could say anything.  “Believe me kiddo, you don’t share Regina’s clothing style either. Or at least I hope you don’t “.

Regina used her special voice, the one that meant Emma only had to make one more little mistake and Regina would destroy her happiness. “ And what is wrong with my clothing?”.

Emma swallowed the gargantuan bite she had just taken. “ I love your clothing, especially the things you wore as queen- well most of it, the feathers are just weird. But do you really want her to wear anything like that?”.

Regina didn’t answer, and Emma happily continued eating as she knew she had answered correctly. “I have a dress I could alter in some ways so it would be more your style” Regina told Lucy, who smiled brightly and immediately tore into her pancakes. There was silence for a while after that, as most of the people around the table were too busy stuffing their faces to talk ( and after that one incident Regina had gotten a mouthful of pancake in her face, speaking with a full mouth was strictly forbidden)

Because this was the Swan-Mills family, the tranquillity didn’t last long.

Emma was taking a break from eating to tell a funny story and happened to gesture wildly to show just how difficult it had been to capture the illegally kept ‘monster’ as mrs Irwin kept running after her with a cane, insisting it wasn’t dangerous. She was gesturing so wildly, that the jug next to her, as well as the salt, her own glass and the syrup fell.

Regina immediately held up her hand, freezing all the falling objects. Emma smiled at her and mouthed ‘sorry’ and continued her story as Regina levitated all the items away from Emma. She was just lowering her hands again, and turning in to Emma’s story when there was a loud, panicked call and she felt something move in her hair.

Emma immediately jumped up.  “Damn it, not again  “ she muttered, striding over to stand behind Regina.

“ I- “.

“Don’t roast the messenger, Regina. He can’t help it that he is disorientated”.

“ Snow has trained him, I know it. She has taught him all the way to surely aggravate me, knowing I cannot just snap the – “ she looked at Lucy, who was staring at her with wide eyes, and deflated. “ Get the thing out of my hair’.

“Mom, just use magic” Henry said when Emma was still carefully trying to untangle the bird from Regina’s hair. “ Fine, fine��� she took a step back, and flipped her hand. There was a small puff of smoke, and the bird appeared in her hand.

She narrowed her eyes. Anyone who spent time with Snow, learned at least to recognize bird species, as Snow insisted it was important to know what kind of bird your messenger was ( even if you didn’t even use birds, because cell phones existed) so you knew what to feed them. “A robin” Emma growled, looking down at the bird.

She quickly glanced at Regina, already thinking of ways to tell her mom to never do this again, when Regina smirked. “ Did you anger her? “.

“ Maybe” Emma muttered, realising she was actually more likely to be annoyed by this than Regina. Of course, Regina missed that person , but she didn’t seem as hurt by it as she was constantly surrounded by family.

As Emma refused to give her mom the satisfaction, she quickly wrote a note – know what you’re doing, not working. Also, answer is still no – and sat down again. Things were just calming down again when-

The tabby cat in Lucy’s lap jumped and grew. Grew and her features twisted, a tail disappearing, whiskers vanishing, fur receding, paws growing. Until there stood a stern-looking woman with her hair in a tight bun , and bright green eyes.

Regina couldn’t save all the things that were dropped this time. She was too surprised herself.

Emma groaned, and tightened her hold on Regina. “ Make it stop” she groaned against Regina’s neck, as doors were slammed and people were running and an excited voice kept yelling “we are going to Hogwarts, we are going to Hogwarts!”

Regina slowly started to pull away, or tried to. Emma was still spooning her, and only tightened her grip when Regina tried to move away. Regina stopped fighting Emma’s grip , as she knew Emma was physically stronger than her, and she didn’t want to use magic. Yet.

“ You were the one to start it yesterday, mi alma. I suggested that we went straight to sleep, instead of indulging in other activities”.

“Hm, but you enjoy it so much when I convince you “ Emma grinned. “And I wasn’t the one who started that last bit, the- “ .

“ Emma, Lucy might not immediately connect the dots, but Henry most assuredly will know what it means that we both naked”.

Emma closed her eyes, and buried her face into Regina’s shoulder “ So? I will just tell them to stay out of the room, so we can stay like this for at least ten minutes”.  

“ Emma, we have a schedule”.

Emma partly opened her eyes again when they both heard those footsteps running towards them. “ Regina, don’t you- “ Emma shrieked when Regina easily transported her beneath the shower, the shower magically turning on and raining cold water down on Emma. Regina lazily transported herself in the bathroom as well, with effectively cut off Emma’s angry rant.

By the time Lucy went running into the room and jumped on the bed, Regina left the bathroom. She was still trying to convince Regina to jump on the bed as well when Henry and Emma joined them. While Lucy was still talking, they creeped up on Regina and managed to get her on the bed as well, which was when a tickle fight was immediately started by Emma. Regina groused when they all left the bed, but she was smiling brightly and quieted when Henry threw his arm around her to kiss the top of her head.

Of course, she still complained a little when they had to run through the airport because they were on the late side, but her mood improved again when Emma got into a heated discussion with an airport official that wanted to search her (it’s a fucking belt that made the thing go off, it is right here). By the time they were through security, there were at least two guards that needed a vacation as well, especially the one that had made the mistake to frighten Lucy.

The rest of their travel was far less uneventful, apart from Regina reacting to her first flight perhaps. They didn’t even have turbulence, and both the landing and picking up the luggage went as well as could be expected. They quickly arrived at their destination.

Professor McGonagall was waiting for them, talking to a bartender before turning around and striding in their direction.  “I hope your travel was pleasant” she said.

Lucy nodded, Emma shrugged and Henry smiled. Regina was the one who answered. “It was fine, although those airport officials are complete morons”.

Professor McGonagall’s lips twitched. “ I do prefer our ways of transportation to the muggle ones”

Lucy eyes brightened. “ Could we travel that way next time? “.

“I thought you liked the plane, Luce” Emma said.

“ Well yeah, but I want to try everything”.

“We will see” Regina said, and turned to professor McGonagall. “ Where are we going?”.

“Diagon alley. Follow me, please”

Lucy kept pointing out everything, from the odd clothing of people around them to things levitating. Henry smiled and chatted with her, answering her questions with the ease of someone who is used to being asked another question each minute. Regina made small talk with professor McGonagall, sometimes glancing at Emma and smiling as she noticed Emma was doing the thing again, the thing where she was on high alert and studying everyone to make sure they weren’t a danger to her family.

Lucy squealed when the professor tapped the wall, and it moved away, immediately wishing to know how it worked. She shut up shortly after that, too enchanted by all the shops and people and animals around them.

Regina quickly took her hand when her granddaughter almost ran off without them. “ Keep with us , dear” she said.

Professor McGonagall turned around. “Welcome in Diagon Alley. I will show you the shops, and help you figure out wizard money. People will probably stare at you, as you are dressed as muggles, but that will be solved by a trip to Madam Malkin’s robes for all occasions. Do you have any questions?”.

Lucy threw her hand in the air. “ Can we buy an unicorn?”.

“ No. Unicorns are endangered creatures and are not meant to be kept as pets”

The stately witch started to walk, and they all followed her. Lucy hugged Regina, then tugged her hand free so she could walk next to professor McGonagall, who was startled when Lucy grabbed her hand.

Lucy smiled at her. “ My abuela says I can’t walk in a strange place without someone holding my hand. It’s so I don’t get lost”

“ Your abuela seems like a sensible woman”.

“ I think so. Why do you need a wand? “

It was just the first of many questions. While Lucy questioned everything, from the practicality as well as beauty of witch’ robes to whether quidditch was the only sport witches had, Emma tried to take Regina’s phone.

“We are on a holiday, so don’t try to run the town from here” Emma said gently.

“ It is nothing connected to my job, Maleficent is just informing me when she and Lily will be coming as well’.

Emma pursed her lips  “Oh”

“Professor McGonagall seemed very interested in their ability to shapeshift into dragons”.

“I suppose that is more impressive than being the saviour”.

Emma’s tone had Regina looking up from her phone, and arch her eyebrow. “ I thought you and Maleficent were on friendly terms now”

Emma shrugged. “ We are.”.

“ Then what is the issue?”.

“ Nothing”.

“Emma- “.

“ All right, all right. It’s just- “ Emma looked the other way. “ You guys have a lot of history, and I know she still really likes you. And she is pretty impressive”.

“We may have formed a friendship again, but neither of us wish for anything else. Besides, you have a wrong idea of what we were”.

“You were girlfriends” Emma said, a muscle in her jaw twitching. Whenever she saw Regina around Maleficent, it always struck her how familiar the two were around each other. How they seemed to know each other.

Regina laughed. “ No. She was my teacher and I confided into her, as she was in a similar situation to my own. And yes, at a certain moment-  “ she lowered her voice, careful to make sure Henry or Lucy couldn’t hear “ we were having sex. But at that point in my life, when I started giving in to darkness more and more- “ Regina shook her head. “ We weren’t girlfriends. It was more complicated, and it was certainly nothing like you and I”.

“ Yeah, I know”

Regina grabbed Emma’s hand when she started to pull away, looking at Henry as if she was thinking of an excuse to leave. “ Emma. If I did not want to be with you, if I weren’t very happy with what we have, I would not be with you. I have been stuck in several dissatisfying relationships and I do not want that again” she squeezed Emma’s hand , then let it go. “ You do not have to doubt us, because there is no one else that I want. Just you “

Emma swallowed. “ I love you” she said, and suddenly hugged Regina tightly. Regina smiled and allowed Emma this moment to compose herself, to hide part of what she was feeling. They slowly separated, and were just leaning in when a throat was cleared.

“Your family is already inside” professor McGonagall said.

“Thank you” Regina politely said, before nudging Emma and giving her a look.

“Uh thanks” Emma said.

Professor McGonagall offered them a brisk nod, and they followed her inside. “ Why do I feel like we are being led to the principal’s office ? “ Emma whispered. Regina ignored her and walked into the room. Her eyes immediately lit up, and Emma sighed.

“We are going to have to fit stuff , aren’t we?” she really was unlucky to be the only one of the family we didn’t like trying on clothes, or letting people poke her as they adjusted clothing. Well, Lucy didn’t enjoy it as much as Regina and Henry but still. She was all alone in her boredom and loathing.

Fortunately for Emma, dress robes weren’t the only things they bought that day. She also felt a lot less like making up an excuse to check out the joke shop she had heard about when Regina asked her to come into the dressing room and give her opinion on the dress robes she was wearing ( it included a lot of enthusiastic kissing, and the professor’s unimpressed look as she caught them, again). Then they actually left for the joke shop, and even Regina spent a small fortune on several items. She bought skiving snack boxes, dung bombs and self-writing quills for Emma while she bought certain items for herself that Emma didn’t even need to know the purpose of, as she was innocent as she long as she didn’t know what kind of things Regina would use to torture prank her mother with.

The other shops were just as much fun. Emma finally convinced Regina to allow her to buy a broom after a lot of arguing, grovelling and promises ( and kisses), and she and Lucy were pretty much screaming about that for hours. after a lot of arguing, grovelling and promises ( and kisses), and she and Lucy were pretty much screaming about that for hours. Regina actually bought a wand, and they had to more-or-less pull her and the other little nerd (Henry) away from the wand shops’ s owner, who happily told them all about wand theory.

Lucy officially deemed it ‘the best day ever “

[jaeminlore]

Youth // Jung Hoseok

-

the prompt: could you make a Prince Hoseok fanfic? It’d be nice if it were fluffy (Hobie’s been getting all up in my feels as of late) but I have nothing specific in mind. the au i based this scenario off of: i’m in an arranged marriage but i’m in love with the sibling help

words: 3056

category: fluff + minimal angst

author note: hobi is always in my feels ngl. he’s just so happy and handsome and can we talk about the fact that hobi is the definition of husband material? my sister and i talk about that a lot. anyway, enjoy!

- destinee

-

“You coming, Prince Hoseok?”

The tall prince groaned and hurried to match the stride of his guard. “Honestly, Yoongi, I don’t know why I have to do this.”

“We’ve been through this, Your Highness,” Yoongi glanced at him. “An arranged marriage is a great way to merge two kingdoms for years.”

“But what if she’s really rude or something?”

“Then I guess you’ll have just to marry a rude princess.”

“Thanks, Yoongi,” he said sarcastically.

Yoongi opened the door to the main hall and bowed over dramatically, “That’s what I’m here for, Your Highness. Now she’s already arrived with her staff, so please try to pretend that you like this idea, alright?”

“Fine,” the usually happy prince rolled his eyes and passed Yoongi. He strode across the room, towards the crowd of people waiting for him.

He could already see the princess he was going to marry. He took in her face. While attractive, the sneer upon her lips turned Hoseok off. What could she possibly sneer about in his castle? Everything was absolutely perfect to him.

The first thing out of the princess’ mouth begged to differ, “We’ll have to change the drapes. Write that down.”

Her advisor followed her around as she already had begun to make interior design plans. “My chaise can go over there, in place of that ugly upholstered stool.”

“Hey,” Hoseok made himself known. “That’s my grandmother’s ugly upholstered stool and there is no way you are going to get rid of it. Who said you could redecorate my castle anyway?”

As he crossed his arms over his chest, the princess walked towards him and smiled slyly, “We’ll be husband and wife, soon. You’ll have to make room for sharing.”

How did she make it sound like he was the unreasonable one?

Just as Hoseok was about to comment what a disaster this was, the doors to the hall burst open, and you ran in, the bottom of your skirts caked in mud. “Sis, there’s a lake out there with geese and everything!”

Hoseok couldn’t help but quirk a smile at your small, happy figure. “Who’s this?”

Y/s/n rolled her eyes. “This is my little sister, Y/n. She’s supposed to be measuring the layout of the land for the landscaper I’ll have come in after the wedding.”

“Yeah, about that.” You walked up to the pair, ignoring the protests of both staffs as you trailed mid behind you. “I like the landscape already. All the colors really blend well so I was thinking you wouldn’t have to redo the gardens at all.”

Hoseok stepped closer to you and faced your sister, “I like her idea.”

You smiled up at Hoseok, admiring the handsome prince. He was much taller than you, but that didn’t stop you from getting on your tiptoes and attempting to match his height.

“What are you doing now, Y/n?” Your sister asked, obviously annoyed at your constant bout of energy.

“I’m trying to be as tall as the prince,” you answered, struggling to stay on your tiptoes for a long amount of time.

Hoseok reached for you elbow to help steady you, “Watch yourself, Princess.”

“Right,” you stumbled back onto your flat feet, feeling your cheeks heat up at the older boy’s words.

“Well,” Yoongi said in his droning sort of voice. “I suppose we’ll need to start the engagement ceremony.”

-

The next day, Hoseok asked Y/s/n if she wanted to go ride horses with him down one of his favorite trails.

“I suppose,” she answered haughtily. “I could use a leisurely stroll.”

“Horse riding isn’t for leisurely strolls,” you chided her as you followed her and Hoseok into the stables. “Horse riding is for racing and jumping and all that fun stuff.”

Hoseok turned around and held out his palm. “I like the way you think.”

You clapped his hand, a smile filling up your face.

Y/s/n crinkled her nose. “Then why don’t the two of you go race for some in-law bonding. I have a book to read and a parlor to remodel anyway.”

“Really?” You asked her. “I can go?”

“I don’t care,” she said. “Do whatever you want.”

You turned to Hoseok, “Do you mind if I come with you?”

-

Somewhere in his mind, Hoseok had let out a long sigh of relief. Perhaps it was your youth, being a few years younger than him, but it was much easier to talk to you than it was to talk to your sister.

That was probably going to be a problem in the near future.

“I don’t mind.” He sent you a soft smile. “We better go ahead and tack up if we want to get out and home before dark.”

“Okay. Bye Y/s/n! Have fun reading your boring book!”

She waved you away and left.

Hoseok addressed you as the two of you walked into the tack shed. “You don’t like books?”

“Of course I do,” you answered. “I like adventure and fantasy novels. Science fiction and dramatic tales of retold history. I’m not into the heavy romance she reads.”

“Aren’t you at that age?” Hoseok wondered aloud. “Don’t most girls began thinking about boys at nineteen years old?”

You shrugged, sending him a mischievous smile, “I’m not like most girls, Hoseok.”

For some reason, that playful smirk made his heart race.

He blamed it on your energy. Perhaps you were just too energetic that it upped his cardio levels. That had to be the case.

Once the horses were all tacked up and warmed up, Hoseok and you sat upon your horses in front of the long trail Hoseok had first mentioned.

“This isn’t really fair,” you began.

Hoseok glanced at you from the corner of his eye, “How so?”

“You said yourself that this was one of your favorite trails. You must know the turns in your sleep. Give me a thirty second head start.”

“No, way.” Hoseok said.

“Please?” You clasped your hands under your chin and gave him your best puppy-dog eyes and pouty lip.

“No,” he spoke, though he wavered a bit.

“Fine,” you sat up straighter as your horse shifted beneath you. “I guess you’re just afraid I’ll beat you.”

“I am not,” he scoffed.

“Then give me the head start.”

“Fine. I’m counting now.”

You kicked your horse and he sensed your cue to begin galloping.

The trail wasn’t too hard to maneuver about. Luckily, you and your horse were so in tune with each other that he knew your commands before you enforced them.

You could hear Hoseok’s horse gaining on you, but your horse was already going his maximum speed. If Hoseok caught up, he caught up.

Throughout this, you failed to see the large bullfrog hopping across the road. Your horse saw it, however, and stopped abruptly in his startled form, throwing you over his head and onto the road.

“Y/n!” Hoseok slowed his horse and jumped off, running to you: a pathetic lump in the road. “Are you hurt?”

“Nothing but my pride,” you answered, pushing yourself into a sitting position and giving him an assuring smile.

Hoseok grabbed your cheek and turned it this way and that, looking for any cuts or bruises. Then he ran his hand down your arms to do the same.

Everywhere he touched he left a buzzing sensation running behind him. You felt heat rush to your cheeks when you finally looked at the prince.

“You’re a bit flustered, probably from surprise,” he murmured, “But other than that I don’t see any injuries.”

You bit your lip nervously. There was no reason to be so flustered around this boy. Especially when he’s your sister’s fiancé. “Thanks, Hoseok.”

“Call me Hobi,” he said, patting you lightly on the head before standing up and offering you his hand.

You placed your small, smooth hand in his large, touch ones and allowed him to pull you up. “Thanks, Hobi.”

“No problem. Now I’d say I won that one, didn’t I?” He asked, a twinkle in his eye. “Since you broke the rules and dismounted.”

“First of all, that was never against the rules. Second of all, I was thrown off my horse!”

Hoseok sent you a wide smile, “Than you wouldn’t mind starting again?”

“You’re on.”

-

You were happy to spend the next few months with your sister at the palace. While she got ready for her big day, you were able to explore the grounds as you pleased. You even made friends with many of the guards and servants there.

It felt like you had gained a whole new family. You were going to be sad when the wedding was over and you had to return to your home.

Today, you felt like going to the garden and helping the landscaper pull weeds. It was a fun job, and you were able to step out of your dress and into pants for once.

The landscapers name was Jin, and he loved the help you offered him. The two of you gossiped a lot while you worked, mostly about your sister and how annoying she was.

“Hoseok told me she had him change his suit color five times,” Jin complained.

You rolled your eyes, “Poor Hobi. He’s going to be in for a horrible ride.”

Jin scrutinized you, “What did you call him?”

“Hobi?” You furrowed your eyebrows. “He told me I could call him that.”

“Wow,” Jin grunted, pulling at a particularly tough weed. “Hoseok only lets his close friends call him that. You must’ve made a good impression on him.”

“I have that charm,” you agreed, jokingly flipping your hair off your shoulder.

“Jin, if she makes me go to the tailor one more time I am going to- Oh hello, Y/n.” Hoseok walked into the garden, feigning a smile. “What I was saying was I am going to rejoice because I too think the suit should be bright pink.”

You giggled, “Don’t worry about it, Hobi. I know my sister is a tyrant.”

At that, Hobi dropped on his back to the grassy floor, “I don’t want to get married to her. She’s so mean to me. What did I even do?”

“She’s mean to everyone,” you tried to console him.

“Not me,” Jin piped up, not noticing your looks of warning. “She told me I was handsome and laughed at all my jokes.”

Hoseok turned to look at the gardener, “She flirted with you? Wait, does that mean she is upset because she thinks I’m not handsome enough?”

“That can’t be true,” you said without thinking.

A smirk grew on the prince’s face and he looked at you, “Why’s that, Princess?”

You averted your eyes, feeling your cheeks get hot. “Because you’re really handsome. If my sister can’t see that then she’s blind.”

Hoseok sighed and looked back at the sky, “I’m glad you think so. I think I care about your opinion more than her’s anyway.”

Jin, the only one sensing the obvious tension between you two, cleared his throat, “Wow, look at the time. Y/n, can you finish this up for me while I go water the queen’s gardenias?”

“Of course,” you said, smiling.

Only when he left did you realize you were alone with Hoseok. You attempted to reassure him, “She’s not that bad once you get to know her. I’m sure you’ll be happy with her.”

Hoseok moved beside you to help with the weeds, getting the knees of his pants dirty as they pressed into the soil. “She’s the complete opposite of me and what I’m looking for.”

He said the next sentence under his breath, “I wish I could just marry you.”

Your breath caught in your throat and you turned to look at him, “What?”

“I wish I could marry you instead, Y/n,” he said. “It’s just a thought, but I think about it a lot, I suppose.”

You felt like choking. Did this boy just admit to thinking about you in his free time? “Actually, I think about you a lot, too. If you want to know.”

Hoseok and you made eye contact, both of you smiling softly at the other.

You studied his face, and the way his golden skin seemed to outshine the sun. How pretty the slope of his nose and the bow of his lip seemed to you.

His gaze trailed down your face, landing on your lips. He suddenly licked his own, blinked and looked away.

“I should probably go see what Y/s/n is up to,” he spoke, ears red.

“Good idea.”

-

Even though you knew it would probably a good idea to avoid Hoseok, you couldn’t find it in yourself to do.

Over the many weeks in preparation for the wedding, the two of you had gotten closer.

So close, that Hoseok often came to you with his worries.

“The wedding is in a week, Y/n,” said Hoseok.

“You’ll do great, okay?” You reached out and rubbed his arm for assurance.

He exhaled in frustration and ran his hand through his hair. “Why are you the one comforting me?”

“Sorry?” You looked at him, confused.

“You’re always there for me and Y/s/n always ignores me. That’s not how it’s supposed to work. Y'know, I think I meant it the other day. I really wish I was marrying you.”

He had gotten closer with every word, so that now he was towered over your short form. “Y/n, I think I want to marry you.”

His eyes flitted you your lips and he swallowed thickly. “But I know I want to kiss you.”

He dipped his head to match your gaze. You could feel the warmth of his breath as it fanned your lips, “I just want to know if that’s okay.”

A slight nod to confirm that it was indeed, okay to kiss you was all Hoseok needed to capture your lips in his own.

He gripped your waist, holding you in place while he kissed you. You could feel his tongue graze your bottom lip as he tried to deepen the kiss. Eventually, you allowed it, opening your mouth slightly for his tongue to enter.

It was back and forth, push and pull, passionate and messy, until a door slammed. Hoseok pulled away slowly, watching your expression through hooded eyes as he licked his own lips. They were swollen and red, and you were sure yours were the same.

Neither of you even noticed that someone had entered the room, for the action of catching your breath was first and foremost.

“What did I just witness?” Yoongi said, rubbing his eyes before giving you a stank face. “If you guys are going to sneak around, at least don’t do it in one of the main halls.”

“I need your help,” Hoseok said, grabbing your hand and squeezing it gently. “I need to get out of my marriage with Y/s/n.”

Yoongi looked at your interlocked hands and sighed, “Can’t the two of you just tell the queen? I mean, you’d still be marrying a princess.”

“But my parents would never agree to it,” you said. “They want my sister to be married first and take the throne, since she’s older.”

Hoseok looked at you, a wave of determination in his eyes. “I won’t get married to your sister. I promise.”

-

You knew Hoseok had every intention to keep his promise, but on the day of the wedding you began to doubt his word.

What if he did marry Y/s/n? What if you had to watch them grow old together while you pined after your brother-in-law?

You sat on one of the thrones beside the queen, Hoseok’s mom. You bit your nails nervously, only to have Her Majesty slap your hand away. “Have some class, Dear.”

“Sorry,” you whispered, folding your hands in your lap.

Soon, Hoseok walked down the aisle and stood in front of the minister. His fancy prince attire made your heart swell in pride as you thought of his bright future.

If only you could be in it with him.

When your sister appeared, you felt tears behind your eyes. She looked beautiful, but the gaze she gave Hoseok was not a loving gaze. Not even a friendly gaze. It was a gaze Hoseok shouldn’t have to live with the rest of his life. You could see tears of resentment in her eyes, and you suddenly felt sorry for your sibling.

She didn’t want this any more than Hoseok did. Maybe all her annoyances were to try and get Hoseok to call off the wedding. Maybe all she really wanted was to flirt with the gardener and be a normal girl.

You missed the vows while thinking of the couple’s misfortune.

The minister smiled at your sister, “Do you, Y/l/n Y/s/n, take Jung Hoseok as your husband: to have and to hold, in sickness and in health, for better or for worse, for richer or for poorer, as long as you both shall live?”

“I do.” Your sisters voice cracked. Her resolution was breaking.

“And do you, Jung Hoseok, take Y/l/n Y/s/n as your wife: to have and to hold, in sickness and in health, for better or for worse, for richer or for poorer, as long as you both shall live?”

Hoseok stilled. He glanced at your sister before uttering the clear words you longed to hear, “I don’t.”

The crowd gasped, but the queen beside you pushed you into a standing position. “He told me everything last night. Go to him.”

You couldn’t disobey the queen, so you hesitantly walked through the crowd.

Hoseok, who had been looking for you, suddenly smiled and ran towards you. “I told you I wouldn’t marry her. I’ll marry you instead.”

You slapped his chest playfully as happy tears began to leak from your eyes, “I thought you were going to go through with it!”

Hoseok pulled you into his chest and kissed your forehead, “I had to clear it with everyone first. I’m sorry I scared you, but look.”

He turned to around, where you saw your sister talking to Jin with a relieved smile on her face.

“I think everything turned out okay.”

~the end~

[protectmetatron]

Story of the Stars ||Chapter One||

So, I decided to write a long term Metatron fanfiction. I’ll try to be publishing a new chapter every three days, and maybe less. I’ll hash out a time schedule later. 

**************************************************************************************************

Once upon a time, a long time ago, hundreds of angels watched slimy things crawl out of the mud, and they watched them grow into what they are now. But after all, that was a very long time ago. Angels still lived and flourished, but that was in separate places than I am now. I precede this story with an incredibly hopeful introduction, for after all, that is what it is- a story. But stories have their way of reflecting the world we live in day to day. Mine, for the time being begins in a library, so to speak, ten months after a disaster en masse of angels falling to earth. None are left in heaven. The angel Castiel is set to lead the new order of this world, and nonetheless, I feel as if he would be a magnificent leader. But after all, what I think matters not. The reality of the situation is this: Castiel will play under Metatron’s rule or he would face a disaster.

               Not that he wasn’t already facing one, of course. The kind of dilemma that Castiel himself faced was a great burden. I myself knew this, and I alone knew what could solve that little problem in Castiel’s heart.

               No, not alone. I realized that then, in that instant. Metatron, the Author, knew Castiel’s secret and how to solve it. Maybe my concertation with the Scribe gave me the advantage in this situation, but I’d rather not think of it that way. I’d rather think of it as a friendship.

               So, let’s begin at the beginning.

               I’m human. Yes, I know it’s crazy enough, I tell myself that every night, you aren’t cut out to be a hunter. And the truth is, maybe I’m not. I’m the researcher, kind of like Sam Winchester, the brother younger, but unlike him, I tend to avoid conflict. No, I can fight. I have the capability. I just do not partake in that kind of activity.

               Kevin Tran was still frantically- well, diligently translating Metatron’s tablet when we went looking for the actual entity- of course, I had gone along, because I figured that there wouldn’t be fighting. Sam and Dean insisted on going first, and I had no objection. The place was like a library, or it was actually a library, I was sure it was some form of collection.

               Dean and Sam had gone first. I had stayed behind. I watched silently behind the bookshelf.

               “You’re Metatron?” It was Dean who spoke first, incredulously. The man who he had spoken to was short, holding a gun directly to Sam’s chest, hazel eyes wide and wary, with a hint of fright. His salt and pepper hair was curly and askew all over his head, as well as a scruff around his jawline that bordered on a short goatee. I stared at him. I had to say, Dean was right, the man standing in front of the two didn’t look much like an angel.

               I stepped back. The last thing I wanted to do was get shot, and it looked like if I startled him, someone could get shot. I slid backwards, disappearing into the bookshelves, putting distance between myself and the three men. My fingers caught on wider spines of books as I brushed them as I moved backward, and I stopped hastily, catching one that was in favor of falling off of the shelf. My eyes caught the title. The Maltese Falcon, it read. I raised my eyebrows, flipping to the front page. It looked like a mystery.

               Before I knew it, I had read halfway through the book. Engrossed, their voices were a distant memory. It was something I had always done, tuned out the rest of the world when engrossed in a good story. When I was little, I had always fantasized about adventure. Come to think of it, adventure was exactly what I had gotten, and to be honest, I wasn’t sure that I liked it. It was a catastrophe most of the time, and it occurred to me that fiction was much more fun than what the real world was like. The princes often died in horrible ways, and the princesses were never rescued.

               “Hey, wonder brain.”

               My head snapped up and I locked eyes with Dean Winchester, who was looking at me with arched eyebrows. “What?”

               “Well, we didn’t get much out of him. We’re leaving.”

               “Huh?”

               Exasperated, Dean rolled his eyes. “Maybe I should start calling you wonder bread. Full of air.”

               “That was surprisingly well thought out for you.” I shot back. “Dean, maybe I can do something.”

               He scoffed lightly. “You going to get information out of him with your feminine charm?”

               The sarcasm in his voice was obvious. We both knew that I lacked especially in feminine charm. I never wore makeup, my nose wasn’t slim or pretty, and my eyes were a dark blue that was neither enticing nor mysterious. My hair, although not tangled, was hardly ever sleek or brushed. In short, I was the equivalent of a scrappy homeless kid that had grown up very rarely taken care of.

               “No, dumbass.” I pursed my lips. “You two have a way of talking that isn’t altogether kind, you know?”

               “Wha-what?” Dean snorted. “Please.”

               “I know where you’re staying, dude, I can come back. Just let me. Besides, technically, I shouldn’t even be with you guys. It’s no biggie.”

               He squinted at me and crossed his arms. “Okay, but you better be back by tonight. Don’t get any ideas.”

               “Stop being gross.”

               He didn’t say anything. He just arched his eyebrows again and walked back. “Come on, Sammy.”

[readfelice-blog]

Berlin drei

The princess came crashing down into a new world, a comet from the depths of space, she was full to the brim from places she had travelled through, all the sights and sounds coursed through her. A voyager inside the meat, another passenger. She surveyed what she saw bleary eyed, it was familiar but at the same time so strange, the people spoke in a language she didn’t understand, she was afraid.

There was a house, through the city, down a never ending street that seemed to only change slightly, “is this it?” she thought. She was in an uncanny world that seemed to endlessly repeat itself, sometimes shop fronts would be galleries, she tugged at the straps of her bulging backpack, sweating profusely under her cumbersome layers, frantically checking her google maps to check she really was supposed to continue going straight, eternal, eternally down the same road.

But of course it changes, like life always does and she found herself suddenly on budding leafy streets, in front of ‘no fire no glory’, how fitting she chuckled to herself silently. She met the girl, she got the key, with trepidation and excitement she found her front door, tucked between a bakery and an ice cream shop, a sweet new world, all painted in pastel yellows, across the street was a park, a playground, children tumbling everywhere, home.

The weeks that followed moved through so many peaks and dips, a loophole, a dark room nestled away from the sunshine, a man utterly at ease with himself sitting at a laptop, she stands at the bar, they are both paused, after some time ‘do you need anything?’.

Yes.

The house of world culture, a beacon sat proudly on the edges of a garden, of one of the many she would roll through. A night she anticipated greatly that scared and excited her, she was harassed by a meat man who would not leave her alone and saved by a young german prince, who was overcome, in the toilets she thanked him, it was the second time in 2 weeks, she was not totally afraid but she was rattled, worried it would become the trend. But then there was smoke and flashing lights and everything sunk away in a flurry of sound.

She escaped to her loophole, there she found the berlin bear, not immediately but the bear swept her up and she let him, she let him guide her and she let him enter her little yellow house and introduce her to herself.

She was lonely and she wasn’t sure how to ground herself in this new world, a stranger still despite forming new relationships and cementing older ones with kindness and good will. Finding people she’d only knew round the edges to be full of light.

But at night she would close her door and be scared, almost breathless, afraid she would be expelled and never find footing in this city, it was always shaky ground beneath her feet, on a border, sitting on her balcony wondering how she could go back, feeling like she could never go back, feeling like she’d rather hurl herself off a building than return empty handed. This journey was her plight, her attempt to rearrange the mottled mess that she had built around her into some kind of semblance of a hospitable place.

The bear, was the only new constant, a whirlwind formed around them, an intense and almost terrifying passion filled her and suddenly she was amplified, finding her body in strangers across the city, waking up in a spectrum of beds, almost as an aside to the bear, as a way of entertaining them both.

Its as if the princess detached, like an iceberg split in twain, somewhere she was above this disaster watching the pair float in opposite directions, both slowly melting in a sea of poison and unrest, a job, a big step but in the heat and stench of a restless night, intoxicated hurtling to a bureau to a sunflower, like a bee.

The Sun: the illusive light that penetrated but she could never turn to find, was starting to pour into her life and at first she didn’t know how to perceive the illumination that opened up all the cracks of her mind. Seeing things she had never seen before, finding erotic places on herself she had never really considered part of her, places on her body that were suddenly charming where once they had been grotesque.

Singing, night after night, alone in her room, in between the spells of near insanity, inside a closet of loneliness that only ebbed but never receded, still afraid.

A handsome grey haired man she’d met on Friday night and had kissed her before she slung herself into a taxi walked past her that same Sunday strolling neatly with his bicycle and his girlfriend, he gave her such a heartwarming smile, it healed in its kindness. Sat in her garden of eden on a monument looking out over manicured gardens as the sun hung in the sky, slowly lowering itself to bed.

The boy she let in that left right away, scared by the fire that was burning inside her as she attempted to translate everything that was suddenly alive in her.

Then the bear, the last time she let him in her house, which she prepared so carefully but still couldn't impress him with, the woman she couldn’t be because she didn’t know how to be, because she never was and never would be, though that woman was the shadow that she lived with, an amalgamation of what she had been and someone she had never met. He left and she utterly lost herself, the last residual elements of her splintered and shattered.

A crash and then a cascade of men and self destruction followed, in 2 weeks she magnified, she suddenly flew through them, sandwich to substance abuse to bed after bed after bed, some she slept in others she ran from, full of something she refused to face.

The princess is gone now.

She had to leave.

But she didn’t die, she woke one morning full of pain and there in the background another princess was being made, a bed she couldn’t remember a man she didn’t know, a night she had no recollection of, an ornate vase splayed on the floor, mud and detritus cast around it, a plant, unhinged.

“That was me wasn’t it?”

A hot mad day, singing about her suicide, crying out to the neighbours that had viewed her wreckage, aghast, just far enough out of sight to not recognise, but there. Wandering the streets, wretching inside as if possessed, no longer caring who she met or what she did as long as the path was to oblivion, tweeting insanities, writhing and seething and lashing out.

She woke again and it felt like death surrounded her, blood, glass and splinters. Then to an island and into the sun, it awakened something inside her and she said farewell to the vessel, to the meat, she clutched its hands and she told it softly, it is not in the folds of hierarchy that you will find yourself, it is in the blue of the lapping water and the never ending sky, you are not looking to become, you are looking to be, look to the moon, let yourself finally be saved, let that teabag once dropped by another man you could of loved but never could of reached be your guide.

Breathe Deep.

The meat watched another passenger depart.

The meat sighed.

The meat saw that the future was still there, it was faint but it was hers, to find it she had to cross herself and during that journey to forgive everything, to find love and nurture and sweetness, to remember that her door was nestled between an ice cream shop and a bakery for a reason.

She is in the sun now, it keeps finding her, and she has found her garden of Eden, its not private property after all, anyone can go there, it’s in bloom, it is the setting of the salvation she has so restlessly wished for. There is a reason she came here but she was carrying the wrong totem.

Everything is blue, it reminds her of the moomins and it brings her back into contact with WOMAN. A different WOMAN, a WOMAN woven in to the lives of men now to, she doesn't want to type another caps lock woman again, you get the picture.

I remember the moomins, I remember the garden, I remember waking up and feeling good in the morning. I am still lonely but I am less afraid and my loneliness is not hurting me anymore, because the actor that plays it is me and I want to remember everything, not hide from it anymore.

I am not Catherine.

Or the unicorn.

Or courtney.

Or the mermaid.

I am here and I am now and I am practising taking it in and being grateful, the sun is rising in my life, I can walk in it now, I am healing.

I am here and I am now.

I’ve been eating a lot of carrots and thinking about Miss Honey, who went to the trouble of peeling and cutting hers before she had them as a snack, now I follow her lead.

And now I’m going to close this laptop, make some tea and read before my eyes naturally lose sight of the day and I fold into slumber.