#space aladdin au

[chettyspagetti]

He’s protecting his kitten

[k0yaz]

Based on danganronpa, can you write a oneshot featuring Kaito in an Aladdin au with a male reader please? The reader is a prince who sneaks into the city of Agrabah and meets Kaito, a heroic boy from the streets with big dreams. What do you think?

unfamiliar

Pairings: kaito momota x male!reader

CW: sfw, aladdin au, male reader, prince reader, reader doesn’t know what commoners are lol, can be read as platonic or romantic, street violence, not proofread, um stealing?? I eated the wall woah, nomnomomom, concrete looks yummy, can I eat concrete idk what else to put lol

A/N: this was actually so fun to write hello??

Sweltering heat blistered along your skin as you trudged through the streets of the infamous city of Agrabah, feet burning up slightly from hot sand. the As the sultan’s son, you never exactly found it easy to get out of the palace. Your father had always been quite overprotective and sheltering, constantly fearing for your safety.

“(Name)! Don’t go out, there’s too many crooks in the city that want our money! (Name)! A young prince like you has no business with those commoners! What if something happens to you? You are far too delicate to let even a merchant’s goods so much as graze your clothing!”

You swear. You’ve heard it all from your father. No matter how many times you attempted to reason with him or prove him wrong, the old man never let you go. So now here you were, strolling in between the bustling stalls with a tattered brown coat draped over your body, the hood successfully cloaking your face. Crowds of people shoved past you, racing towards stalls of various goods and consumables. They sure were eager.

Desperately clutching at the coat concealing your form, your nails practically dug into the abrasive fabric uncomfortably brushing across your skin like sandpaper. Swarms of people pushing past you made it quite difficult to keep the sleazy scrap of cloth on your body, forcing you to trudge through the claustrophobic spaces. The crowd reeked of sweat and potent spices, making your nose slightly scrunch up from the sting of the unfamiliar scent.

Once you made your way past the suffocating array of citizens, you decided to head into a seemingly more comfortable place—and what else would be closer to home than a spacious and enticing restaurant? Upon entering the dimly lit local restaurant, a divine aroma wafted through your nostrils, giving you a pleasant feeling and also fueling up an appetite for you. Deciding to head towards the desk, cloak still covering your body, you booked a table and ordered your food discreetly, even going as far as changing your tone of voice as a precautionary measure.

The receptionist guided you to a rounded table beside a window giving a view of the street vendors and stalls, albeit a bit hesitantly considering that you were covering yourself completely. However your payment shut his suspicions right up when you just casually tossed a hefty bag of coins on his table. You stared outside, being left alone with your thoughts in the process.

It had always been tough to prove yourself among commoners. Especially as a child, you always found yourself approaching groups of other young boys, asking if you could play with them. Of course being accustomed to the pampering life of the palace, you often weren’t familiar with the usual roughousing and foul language from other children. To say that the sultan held a sort of disdain for this style was an understatement. He hated that his son was even thinking of associating himself with such preposterous behavior. So whenever you even tried to approach commoner children, he would frequently call the guards to come to your side to serve as a factor of intimidation against the children. The palace guards would often make others keep their distance from you, in an attempt to avoid any conflict with the guards.

This resulted in you being painfully lonely as a child, longing to have the same life that the others had. Your father always attempted to soothe you, not very effectively mind you, but would still attempt to tell you things such as— “Look around my boy, you’re better than them. You don’t need such silly things, you’re a prince!” Or “(Name), these commoners are no better than mere servants for us, they should be graced in your presence not see you as another one of them!”

The heated banter outside the window made you think to yourself…maybe father was right? Perhaps palace life is much less violent than the beatings people would receive, or the suffering of poor citizens in the crevices of Agrabah. Watching a poor man—possibly even a child, being threatened by the throat for not being caught stealing a potato or two, only emphasized on your thoughts, showing how cruel the streets of the world were, and how apparent poverty was.

“Kaito you damned scumbag!” A gruff voice called out, catching your attention. You looked outside, curiosity piqued from the sudden yell as to what the hell was even going on. Spiked dark violet hair flowed through the streets as a boy darted between the stalls, carrying large tied sacks along with bunches of fruit in his arms. He briefly peeked behind him, still running with his arms filled before picking up the pace, the nimble dart of his feet kicking sand into the pursuer’s face. The large man tailing the boy coughed, holding his face and spitting out the beige grains.

Curiosity got the better of you. You could just mind your own business, but you’ve already snuck out of the palace. So finding the mysterious thief would be insignificant in the scolding your father would give you once you got back. Quickly, you left the restaurant while still covered in the cloak, not wanting to arouse any suspicion as you left.

“Kaito..” you hummed, recalling the boy’s name. Trying to remember his appearance wasn’t much of a struggle, since he was wide out in the open. As you walked in the direction you believed he could’ve headed, you thought hard to yourself, attempting to trace back bits of his appearance.

Violet spiky hair and eyes…a short goatee, energetic, wearing clothing you would associate with someone who..wasn’t very rich.

You had reached the outskirts of Agrabah’s busy streets, still lost in thought as you kept thinking about this mysterious person who had caught your eye mid-meal. Just then, you crashed into someone chest to chest, tumbling back and causing your coat’s hood to fly back from the breeze. Standing up, you huffed and brushed the sand off of yourself, looking down at a young man holding several sacks in his hand. You instinctively reached your hand out, attempting to help him up.

“My apologies, I didn’t-“

Suddenly, you paused, noticing his distinct appearance. Violet spiky hair..a goatee..and poor clothing. Was this the so called ‘Kaito’ you were looking for?

“You..you’re that boy who was getting chased.” You remarked, his expression looking surprisingly casual despite being caught. “Wow, you saw that? Well, atleast I got away.” He replied, a joyous smile still stuck on his face. He picked the sacks in his arms back up, carrying them with increased fervor. “Need some help?”

He simply nodded, allowing you to take two sacks in your hand. “So, you must be Kaito.” You acknowledged, following him with the bags in hand. He nods, trudging through the pale sand to an unfamiliar location. Still deciding to persist with knowing more about him, you followed up with your questions.

“Why was that man chasing you?”

“I didn’t pay back my debt, in fact I stole more. And I also stole some food as well.”

Your eyes widened at his confession. Why was this man saying it so casually? He shamelessly stole for god’s sake! He stole hard earned money! Kaito suddenly spoke up seeing your expression, still moving as he avoided eye contact, as if he was anxious about leaving a negative impression.

“They’re just a bunch of stupid loan sharks. Harming people from the streets even if they do pay them back. They raise the interest constantly while we don’t even have enough to eat.” He scoffed, gritting his teeth. Softening your gaze, you looked at Kaito’s annoyed expression, feeling bad for assuming that he was an immoral thief. His pace slowed down, halting by a cramped street corner reeking of humid pollution. The walls consisted of several people huddled together in unrealistically small and congested homes, and clearly lacking several basic facilities.

You watched in reverence as Kaito handed out some of the fruit he was carrying, along with handfuls of coins to several people and families. Once he was done he bounded back over to you, flashing a proud grin.

“I’m going to be honest, I didn’t think the prince himself cared much about us common folk!”

At the mention of your status, you immediately scrambled your hands against your face, trying to catch a feel of your dusty hood. Shit. You couldn’t hide anymore from him. Heaving a defeated sigh, you gave up on attempting to wear your hood, hands hanging at your sides. Kaito just patted your back, his expression unchanging.

“Let’s go see the sunset, I know a great spot near the outskirts!”

Reluctantly, you followed him, circling the rim of the city along with him as the two of you took a seat at the edge of the wall. You stared out at the glimmering sun peeking from the horizon, growing slightly dazed from how much you’d ventured today. Well, you were gonna be a deadman by the time you were back at the palace. You just couldn’t help but notice Kaito grasping onto the sides of the wall, staring out with a content expression. Perhaps there were good people still out in the city, maybe...just maybe Kaito was living proof that your father was wrong.

Tugging off your cloak, you tossed the old thing to the side, scratching your skin upon feeling the discomfort it caused you kick in. The tattered rags mixed with the blistering heat caused your skin to feel all scratchy, as if someone had scraped sandpaper against your body. You abruptly cleared your throat, turning to Kaito to start up a conversation before the sunset.

“So, you got pretty big dreams from what I’m seeing. What even is your ultimate goal? What do you hope to achieve, Kaito?”

Kaito just smiled, turning back to the sun and proudly declaring with his chest puffed out.

“I want to give the street commoners, a better life. Even if it’s little by little, I want to bring a better system to Agrabah!”

A/N: yay this was so fun to write but I’m sorry if the end seems less detailed then the first half cause it’s like 2 am and I’m sleepy but I couldn’t sleep peacefully if I didn’t finish this awaaaaaaahsbdbdbdbf anyway goodnight I’m going to bed enjoy

@princeasimdiya12

[nixwriteschaos]

For my request, an you write a oneshot featuring Aizawa and a male reader in an Aladdin AU please? In the fic, Aizawa is a street rat and is childhood friends with the reader. But as they become adults, their friendship/relationship becomes strained as Aizawa keeps getting into serious trouble with the palace guards while the reader tries to maintain his career as a merchant. What do you think?

Trouble

Street!Rat!Aizawa x Merchant!Male!reader [Aladdin AU]

Summary: Aizawa and Y/N had a good friendship that blossomed into a relationship. But as days went on, Aizawa started to trouble the palace which left him getting chased by the guards. A well-connected merchant to the palace can’t be associated with street rats.. Right?

★☽A/N: I think it’s a really good request! Though it did take a while for me to figure it out, but I hope you like it!!

Contents: ANGST - SLIGHT FLUFF? - ALADDIN AU

════❖════

Y/N was a well-connected merchant, having a really close relationship with the king along with his daughter, the princess.

When he was younger, his father was in charge of a small region in the kingdom before being brutally murdered by the residents’ nobles. His father and the king were close since little lads so the king offered a place for him to stay in the palace after his mother died from an illness. As Y/N grew older, he had trouble in the palace, as some of the servants saw him as a "charity case" for the King. They never treated the boy kindly and would often trick him.

Tricking him into getting out of the palace before locking him out. They would sometimes even seduce or bribe the guards into not letting the boy inside which resulted in him having to stay the night outside. Because of this frequent “accident,” he eventually built a small fort for himself. It was in the corner of the library that he was given permission to take shelter at. The librarian was a close friend of his so she allowed the boy to stay there. He made it out of pillows and such.

But during his frequent stay, it was rather lonely. Atleast.. That was before Shota came into his life. The boy ran into the library and caused a small ruckus, the librarian scolding him for being loud in the quiet space. The boy apologized and made his way into the library’s halls of books. He didn’t like reading much, but he loved reading about how things worked and ideas to cause mischief. He was looking at the books and went to the end of a hall and saw Y/N in the corner with a book in his crossed arms as he slept in the small fort of pillows and blankets.

By curiosity, the black-haired boy inched closer to the fort, carefully making his moves in fear of awakening the sleeping H/C boy. But as he inched closer, he felt his wrist suddenly get grabbed. By shock and fear, he yelled and started to swing his hand to try to get the hand’s grip off him. His eyes trailed from the hand gripping him to the face of the person. It was the sleeping boy who was now awake, his slight sleepy E/C eyes looking at him.

“Who are you?” The H/C cautious eyes watching the black-haired boy. “Why should I tell you?” The boy answered stubbornly. The black-haired boy just stayed silent in response. The now awakened boy just scoffed, “Leave me alone, will you?” He groaned, letting go of the boy’s hand and rolled over to the side to not see the boy’s face.

“You look a bit too young to be out here,” the boy commented, getting a groan of annoyance in response from the other. “You look about my age, aren’t you?” The other boy with H/C hair said in a harsh tone, still faced away from the boy. “I’m 12, you?” The timid looking boy asked. “13,” he answered back. “Oh, you’re older than me,” he realized, shocked.

The black-haired sat down beside the H/C haired boy and continued to sit there in silence for a few hours. Eventually, the 13 year old boy started to feel annoyed by the other’s company. “Would you leave me alone?” He asked with an irritated voice. “If you tell me your name then I might.” The other responded. The 13 year old sighed in defeat and mumbled his name. “Repeat that?” the now curious boy requested. He sighed again and answered with a much clearer voice, “Y/N L/N.” 

“See, that wasn't so bad, wasn’t it?” The black-haired boy smiled.

════

From that day forward, those two were inseparable and would spend time with each other up until they were young adults. It’s now time skipped to their 30’s. Shota being 30 and Y/N being 31. By this time, Shota had the reputation of “the street rat” who hung around with a young boy named Aladdin. While Y/N had the reputation of a successful merchant who was close with the king and his princess.

Originally, the king wanted his daughter to marry Y/N but Y/N protested and had to admit his sexuality. The king was mad at first, clearly enraged by this information but after some time, he started to accept Y/N for his likings.

Though the king never thought Y/N L/N, a practical son to him, would love a street rat like Shota Aizawa. L/N loved Aizawa and he loved him too and started to hang out more often. But Y/N felt some sort of uneasy feeling about the blackhead’s reputation.

If anyone were to find out his relationship with the well-known thief who was friends with another thief and their monkey, his reputation as a merchant would be torn apart.

But he tries his best to spend time with his beloved. Y/N would travel out of the city and would help prosper their kingdom and its wealth. And sometimes he would make an excuse, saying he’s going to another kingdom to get some wealth for the kingdom, but in reality, he was visiting Aizawa and his friend, and the monkey of course.

════

For the past week, Y/N has been…concerned about Aizawa. He has been getting in trouble for years, sure, but now he has been troubling the guards and would always have to run away from them before he could get arrested. And Y/N ended up arguing with him about keeping a low profile.

“Just, please stop! You’ll end up in the dungeon!” Y/N said with a concerned voice. Aizawa just scoffed, “So what? I can always break out,” he said in a relaxed voice, rolling his eyes. “That’s not what I meant.” The H/C haired straightened his posture, he was clearly pissed at his response. “What? That you’re lovey dovey with a thief like me? And you don’t want anyone to know it?” Aizawa also started to lose his temper. “I..” Y/N paused, looked down in some guilt. “Of course, you’re ashamed of me,” Aizawa scoffed. “Oh, don’t twist my words,” Y/N spat with venom. “What? It’s the truth,” Aizawa spat back.

They argued for hours. Each word led to more conflict between them. They said words that they didn’t mean to say. Some words were hurtful too, commenting about their bad childhood and commenting about their personality now. It was a heated argument and it ended not how the two wanted it. It was in heat of the moment and Y/N didn’t mean it when he said,

“Maybe I don’t need someone like you in my life!” In his angered tone. But when he realized his mistake, it was too late to apologize. Aizawa looked at him with shock which turned into disgust and anger and slapped him across the face. “You’re nothing but a privileged man! Don’t ever contact me again,” Aizawa spat out. Y/N wanted to respond, desperate to apologize but Aizawa wanted nothing to do with Y/N at that moment. He left Y/N who stood there frozen, and couldn't utter a word, except two. He spoke to them with such softness, Aizawa couldn’t hear his woes.

“I’m sorry..”

════❖════

★☽A/N: That’s all for this one! But would you guys want a second part? I already have an idea in mind! I know this was a oneshot but I wanted to try doing a cliffhanger! lolol

[sailormew4]

Fanfic Writer Interview

Thankyouuu to @earthtodora for the tag!!

Tagging: @m34gs and @vulpixen

wow this one is a bit long oops.

How many works do you have on ao3?

I have 28 works currently on ao3!

Your top 5 stories by kudos/likes:

Outside In: One, if not the first BNHA fic I uploaded. I'm honestly surprised this one is the one that made start to get known in the BNHA fic atmosphere. The plot is based on that one Teen Titans episode where Beast Boy and Cyborb go into Raven's mind. This time, Bakugo, Uraraka, Todoroki, and Iida go into Midoriya's mind. This is BakuDeku Fic. Fun Fact: This is actually the first time I did something like this, in fact I did something similar for the Voltron fandom right here on Tumblr. Status: Complete

Add Water: THIS IS MY SECOND MOST KUDOS FIC? So context: This is an H2O: Just Add Water x Voltron crossover fic. The premise is Lance is the grandson of Cleo and Lewis from the original H2O series. It's still canon compliant so he's in space trying to hide his mermaid secret from everyone. Gosh, this right season three I wrote this, I haven't touched this fic since 2018 (Voltron Depression am I right?). I might actually go back to my VLD fics. This one does contain Klance. Status: Ongoing.

Mariposa: A MIRACULOUS FIC? DAMN I DIDN'T TOUCH THIS SINCE 2019! So, typical Marinette gets akumatized cause GOD DAMN IT I STILL NEED THIS! I want her to reach her villain era lowkey and give Chat Noir the spotlight he STILL deserves. Status: Ongoing

Friendship in Flames and Curses - OHOHO! Now this one I hoped would be in top five. This is simply a crossover between Blue Exorcist and Jujutsu Kaisen. Rin gets taken by Sorcerers by mistakenly being seen as Curse User. Him and Itadori becomes BESTIES! The comments in this became so crazy, I recently finished this not too long ago on 11/18/24. No focused romantic relationships until the sequel (currently in the works). But I love this fic SO MUCH. Status: Complete

Forget About Love: - Oh my gosh, I'm exposing my Klance Days. This is probably one of the few Klance fics I finished. The premise is after Keith leaves for the Blade of Marmora, Lance is hurt and misses him to the point he takes a potion to make him forget the hurt which makes him forget Keith and his love for him - which fundamentally changes for the worse. Fun Fact: The title comes from an Aladdin 2 song, but the premise is inspired by an episode from the show of Once Upon a Time. Status: Complete.

Do you respond to comments? Why/why not?

I LOVE responding to comments. I used to reply every chance I got to them, but took only replying after I update the fic. I got tired of constantly getting comments to update. But, I always screenshot my favorite comments.

What’s the fic you’ve written with the angriest ending?

... define angry ending? Cause I can tell you which fic I wrote with the most anger? I always strive to have happy endings, maybe bittersweet. But the only one I can confidently say I wrote in anger was my fix-it fic for Voltron Season 8 End to a Beginning. That shit I wrote almost 22k words from spite from the finale. I still plan to update it cause I was really excited but uh chapter two is still kicking my ass.

What’s the fic you’ve written with the happiest ending?

Well, almost all of them have a happy ending. I would say the most happy would be either JJK x Blue Exorcist fic cause its a happy note and had a pretty humorous ending, but there is also my UsaMamo fic Homey Touches where Mamoru realizes Usagi makes his home.

Do you write crossovers?

HA! Did you read my top five? Two of them ARE crossover fics, well they're more AU adjacent kinda. You'll see what I mean. Some others ones I've written are

Legacy of the Moon: A Sailor Moon X BNHA fic. After the death of Sailor Moon, another thousand years passed and Luna finds Bakugo and says he's Sailor Moon, but he refuses to believe it. A BakuDeku focused fic as well. It's still ongoing and the latest chapter is currently being written

An Alien Device: A BNHA x Ben 10 fic. In the summer before the last year of middle school Midoriya is forced to go on a vacation with Bakugo and his Dad. On the first night, an alien device crashed landed to reveal the Omnitrix and stuck itself upon Izuku's wrist. This is also BakuDeku.

Have you ever received hate on a fic?

... have I? This is a genuine thing. I'm mostly bad with social cues, so I could never tell if something was out of hate or confusion. I probably did, but just don't remember it or simply ignored it.

Do you write smut? If so, what kind?

I.... do not. It's mostly because smut itself to me is kinda just... there. Maybe its the demisexual in me, but when I read fics that have smut. I do kinda just... skim it over. Like I'll read it for the genuine emotion but not the actual well physical stuff.

Have you ever had a fic stolen?

If I did, I do not know. I do know that I have a now long abandoned fanfiction.net account (I should move some of my How to Train Your Dragon fics I had there to Ao3). But if I did, I don't know about it.

Have you ever had a fic translated?

... I have been offered. One of my fics was offered, but I had to turn it down cause it wasn't going to be published on Ao3 but a different sight. I just didn't feel comfortable with the idea of having it out there without me knowing what's going on.

Have you ever co-written a fic before?

Yes, why with @vulpixen with a Gravity Falls fic. I was in high school, so I couldn't write as much as I wanted and since I was using her OCs we decided to just co-write together. She did most of the heavy lifting while I did most of editing and stuff. I'm always open to now co-write more often now, in fact I did have a fic being written with Codi ( @collisiondiscourse ) for a BNHA fic. But they're busy with Uni. They do draw me the most amazing cover art for some of my fics tho!

What’s your all-time favorite ship?

... Soooo this is kinda a loaded question. See, I don't have a singular OTP that dominates. I have a Mount Rushmore where I will eat any content of them like its the most delicious bowl of curry ever and it influences all future ships. Those being UsaMamo aka Usagi Tsukino/Sailor Moon and Mamoru Chiba/Tuxedo Mask. This was the start and I will always think of them when comparing any current ships I have. Next would be of course BakuDeku aka Bakugo Katsuki and Midoriya Izuku from BNHA. I don't think I need to explain this one. This sucker got me by the neck when Kacchan got kidnapped and I ain't ever leaving. Next is Klance aka Keith and Lance from Voltron Legendary Defender. By god, if you see me now and think "Wow she's super into BakuDeku"... you have not seen me at my most FERAL and potentially insane. In fact, I did not realize how much this ship STILL holds me its claws until the recent news of it being taken off of Netflix. And the final one *drumroll* is MadoHomu aka Madoka Kaname and Homura Akemi from Madoka Magica. Now this ship, while I don't talk about as often as I like is because their story is still going and I want to see how it ends. Doomed Yuri at its finest.

What’s a WIP that you want to finish but don’t think you ever will?

Any fic, I haven't updated before 2023. I love all my fics to bits but sometimes, hyperfixations come and go. I do plan eventually especially with my resurgence of Klance love, but it might be a while.

What are your writing strengths?

I think its dialogue. I often say my own dialogue aloud when writing to get the tone right. Plus, I'm very much a word person. So I think is my best.

What are your writing weaknesses?

Probably a lot. I know I'm my own worse critic, so I'm harsh. One that I try is conveying words through actions or setting the scene essentially. I can't quite get the tension right in my opinion, but maybe that's because I know how it ends. I haven't really asked what it could be from others.

What are your thoughts on writing dialogue in other languages in a fic?

So I watch anime and read manga. So my thought process is write how the character would think, so for example in my anime fics, I use honorifics if the character does in speak, but in thought its just the name. When there's multiple language at play like say my Voltron fics where I make Lance use Spanish, I just use the Spanish and give translations at the bottom.

What’s a fandom/ship you haven’t written for yet but want to?

So damn, can I say any of the ships I have yet to write for or ones that have like "dead" fandoms. Take Tokyo Mew Mew for example, I want to write an IchiSaya (Ichigo Momomiya x Masaya Aoyama) fic so bad because back in my middle school days THAT was the rare pair despite being canon.

What’s your favorite fic you’ve written?

Oh definitely Legacy of the Moon and Friendship in Flames and Curses. I love Sailor Moon and BakuDeku so much and that one is still so fun to write. As for my JJK x Blue Exorcist Fic, that one is simply fun to just write and have fun with no boundaries, like its purely self indulgent. You can probably tell how much I enjoy a fic by how fast I update.

[nemo-draco]

Thoughts About Dual Entity Pairs in Friendly Globetrotter

Now, as y'all know, we've got both characters from Aladdin, Cuphead, and Orion and the Dark involved in this AU, which actually begins to build things up into a kind of first pantheon of entities that are making Earth work behind the scenes. Now, obviously Dark and Light, or Night and Day, are one such aspect of this, but people who haven't watched the Aladdin series don't know that Aladdin provides another set: Chaos and Fate.

To keep it brief, Chaos shows up in Agrabah one day after being nudged that way by other villain, and he's also somewhat notable in that really his only goal is to poke at the status quo. There's even a surprising twist as far as how the whole matter is resolved at the end, but for the sake of this particular topic I'm going to discuss a particular moment that's very relevant to here: he outright mentions the existence of Fate as an entity, and from what he says, he and Fate have a relationship perhaps mirroring Dark and Light. It's hard to really say for sure, as we only have Chaos's perspective, but he does mention Fate 'cheating at cards', which seems to imply that they do occasionally have activities they do together. So, maybe not entirely antagonistic, but definitely with some friction, in a perhaps I don't understand why you are the way you are kind of way. Chaos also noticeably attempts to subvert the fate that 'such and such hero must always win' with a loophole, which displays a definite interest in playing with the notion of fate and predestination. The question is, would Fate actually be angry with this or would he consider it an interesting challenge? There's also the thought that, due to the twist at the end of the episode, that Chaos might've been playing up a more antagonistic relationship with Fate in order to seem like more of a maverick; really, his only stated goal is to introduce elements of chance into life, making it more 'interesting' and not 'mundane' or 'boring'.

Which seems more like a defense if not exploration of the concept of chaos more than Chaos just being the bad guy for the sake of the ebils.

So, with this and the dynamic presented by Dark and Light, it got my mind going on other instances of 'twin' dynamics between different 'higher' or 'first' entities. The ones that came into being as the world formed and their concept became an actual force acting on the planet. Chaos and Fate, or perhaps you could also know them as Chance and Certainty, probably came to be fairly early on. Maybe even before Dark and Light given that Dark roundaboutly states that he's existed since 'early life on Earth developed light sensitive proteins'. Which is a considerably long time, Pre-Cambrian, at minimum. But there are also other concepts that make up life on Earth that also got their start around this time: Life, Death, Time, and Space. The Big Ones, the things that all beings on Earth must adhere to. Though the fun part for me, especially when playing with the characters and how they behave, is seeing how they play off each other.

I can definitely see there being a period in all of the twin entities cases where they had to take a moment to appreciate their other half, so to speak, or at the very least learn how to. I honestly had a fun thought about it being a moment that sort of takes place for all four of them at the same time, given that, unlike Dark and Light, they can all be around each other without time limits or restrictions. So issues can get resolved a lot faster, so long as the entities in question are willing to actually sit and have the conversation.

Which does beg the question as to why things got so bad for Dark and Light, to the point where one could hurt the other so badly that it runs the risk of killing them. In my mind, it's a mix of factors, with the attrition Dark feels from dealing with other characters mixing with the general dislike he gets from everyone else and the fact that with humanity becoming more technologically savvy, they're able to tip the balance of things more in Light's favor...somewhat. Part of things with Dark feel, somewhat psychosomatic, in that a lot of the problems can be altered or made less powerful by him changing his own perspective. He feels like a lesser, more inferior entity, so it reflects on his own physical state, making him physically weaker than Light who just doesn't have a lot of those problems.

[moonpetrichors-blog]

hey could i please get a lo'ak x f!reader oneshot where lo'ak goes to see payakan (by himself) and he is just chatting payakans ear off about y/n ans how amazing he thinks she is and payakan was like "confess to her???" or something and he was "nahh i cant do that, she doesnt even like me like that" but payakan wasnt believing him so he asks to see her and lo'ak agrees and when y/n and payakan meet payakan "accidentally" exposes lo'ak about his feels, and lo'ak is super embarrassed trying to deny it but y/n cuts him off saying she likes him too , tyy :>

-🪶♡

Confess Already

Tags: Lo’ak x Reader, Oneshot, Fem!Reader, Hella Fluff, Lo’ak Talks Like Aladdin LMAO

Warnings: None

Lo’ak is whipped for you. He’s always chatting Payakan’s ear off about how pretty and amazing you are, and he’s had enough of him not gathering up the courage to confess yet. Payakan is many things; a tulkun, an outcast, but best of all, a wingman.

An AU where Payakan’s not a cockblocker, but a wingman for once LMFAO also im not sure if u meant to be anon or not but like i gave u a hashtag anyways so😜🤝

* ˚ ✦ 676 Words • Read below the cut

╭┈─────── ೄྀ࿐ ˊˎ-╰┈➤ ❝ [20/02/23] ❞

Lo'ak went swimming alone with Payakan, as he regularly does.

Splashing and playing in the sea was something they did all the time. They'd explore the reef or Lo'ak would cannonball off Payakan's back, but Lo'ak was absorbed by his thoughts today.

Payakan whistled in irritation at his spacing out habit, and Lo'ak swished his legs back and forth in the water lazily. He didn't realize Payakan was talking to him until he submerged his fin.

Lo'ak sputtered under the water as Payakan hoisted him back up, his arms outstretched in bewilderment. He glared at him, and Payakan blinked back with the same force. He whistled again as if to ask, "what's wrong?"

Lo'ak ran a hand through his braids, and sighed wistfully. He shifted his body to face Payakan properly and began to sign with his hands.

"I met a girl."

Lo'ak could tell Payakan was intrigued, but did not know who he meant.

He groaned. "Y/N."

Payakan laughed out loud with a succession of clicks. Lo'ak ignored his response and persisted.

"Eywa, she's beautiful. You have to meet her! Every time I'm around Y/N, she's just so amazing... She’s got these eyes that just... And her smile!"

Lo'ak rolled onto his back and laid on Payakan's fin, returning to his daydreaming about you. Payakan was dissatisfied. Lo'ak could determine from his expression that he was perplexed as to why he hadn't confessed to you yet.

He sat up, frustrated. "I can't do that! She doesn't even like me like that. What if Y/N rejects me?"

Payakan whistled again in disbelief, then asked Lo'ak to meet you to make sure of it.

"I could bring her to our swims, but I doubt she even sees me that way..."

Ah, if only he knew.

...

You agreed to meet Payakan, much to Lo'ak's consternation.

So there you were, caressing Payakan gently while marvelling at how Lo'ak managed to befriend him. That was a story he could tell you another day, but for now he was anxious about what Payakan was up to. Why on Pandora did he want to meet you?

Payakan watched Lo'ak's dopey expression, evidently unimpressed, while you gushed at how incredible the tulkun was. Lo'ak was completely smitten by you, his bright smile reaching the corners of his eyes as he observed you.

Payakan, the filter less tulkun that he was, began clicking at Lo'ak.

To Lo'ak's chagrin, he knew you comprehended what the tulkun's clicks implied, and your countenance transformed from awe to uncertainty.

You drew back from Payakan. "What's up with him?"

He kept laughing at Lo'ak, and you whirled around to see what was so hilarious. You noticed Lo'ak's lingering gaze and realized what was happening. Then, a deep flush enveloped his features, and he averted his eyes from you; his skin was flushed and feverish.

Payakan hummed, mocking Lo'ak about his crush in an inadvertent (but not really) fashion. Although Lo'ak couldn't fully grasp what he was saying, he understood the gist of what Payakan meant, and instantly became mortified.

He turned to you, and desperately tried to deny it. "It's not true, Payakan is just a pathological lia-"

You silenced him with a finger against his lips. "I like you too."

That really shut him up.

Lo'ak felt himself go into cardiac arrest and slowly sank backwards into the water, similarly to a dead fish. You thought his reaction was sweet, but Lo'ak assumed he'd finally learned the way of water; perhaps he'll bury himself beneath the sand, too.

He started sinking.

You shouted in a panic. "Eywa, Lo'ak!"

You hurriedly plunged your head to swim after him and haul him over the surface of the water. You tightened your grasp on his waist, and once he regained consciousness, you began to smirk at him.

You giggled. "Did you serious pass out because I said that?"

Lo'ak tore your hands away from his shivering waist, and shielded his face with a clenched fist. "Shut up!"

You could still see the evident blush dusting his features. What a cutie.

[sikyecng]

Kataang au? Do tell me more pls 👁

omg hello anon again!!

recently i stumbled upon a kataang titanic AU fanfic called unforgettable feelings by futureairbender18 on ff.net (sadly it hasn't been updated since 2011) but the fic is really good so i've been wanting to draw them.

as i fell back into the kataang rabbithole, i've also been thinking about similar ships and parallels in other media. ppl have mentioned everlark, percabeth. i've also seen spirited away, howl's moving castle, and nutcracker fanart of kataang which are all brilliant.

don't @ me but kataang WALL-E/EVE??? wall-e/eve dancing together in space reminds me of kataang penguin sledding.

the kataang cloudbending scene in the fortuneteller reminds me a lot of hiccstrid's romantic flight (i'm surprised i haven't seen kataang/hiccstrid parallels yet lol). the way katara wakes aang up from his hundred years of slumber makes me think of sleeping beauty lol (one of my favourite movies).

upon rewatching the first two episodes of atla, seeing katara struggle with her identity as a waterbender while nobody else understood her until aang shows up and opens up her world reminds me a lot of beauty and the beast (watch the kataang beauty and the beast edit on youtube by kataang videos) and aladdin.

kataang growing old together but aang passing away early reminds me of the movie "up."

anyways i have a lot of ideas we shall see how many actually see the light of day.

[wanderingchocolateeclair]

BNHA AU Masterlist

Updated!! 2024 version!!!!

Current AU Count: 81 (the ones on this list)

I will try my best to link any info posts and update this when I can! Please Feel free to send in asks about my aus!

Gods au

Fallen Deities au (needs to be updated, has changed)

Fantasy au (here)

Neon Souls au (couldn't find the lore post, so have this instead)

Pirate au (no lore post yet, but here's the fic link)

Corrupt Horrors au (again, lore post has been eaten, have this)

Masquerade au (one of my more recent favourites)

Villain au (here)

Regal au (edgejeanist designs) (ectoloader designs)

Circus of Death au (here)

Space Rangers au (here)

Radioactive au

Broken Dollhouse au (here)

A Little Mermaid au (no lore post yet)

Forest Keepers au

College au

Supernatural Beings au

Roleswap au (snippet)

Mafia au

Siren au (again, no lore post so have mermay post instead)

Ghost au

Game over au

Peaceful au

Commission Kids au

Actor au

Trapped au (no lore post yet)

Heist au

Haunted au

Spy au

Secret Identity au

Single Parent/Teacher au

Royal Bodyguard au

Personality swap au

Fusions au (here)

Greatest Showman au

Revenge au

Maintenance au

Secret Fairground au

Jar au

Childhood Friends au (each ship has its own)

Denial au

Grief au

Pirates/Mermaids au

Deep sea Creatures au

Fish au

Dance au

Pilots au

Airport au

Hospital au

Olympic au

Winter olympic au (they are only slightly different)

Superhero/Bartender au

LoTR/Hobbit au

Orchestra au

Racing au

Celestial Bodies au

Assassins au

Teeny Beans!! au

Real Nightmares au

Immortal/Reincarnation au

Space Time Reality au

Wolf!Tsu au

Fox!Shinya au

Shifter au

Modern Devil au

Reforged Scraps au (of which Silver has joint custody over)

New Unnamed Fantasy au

Eldritch Forest au

Time Travel Dr-who-inspired au

Tangled au (edgejeanist)

Cinderella au (edgejeanist)

Aladdin au (mirukyubami)

Beauty and the Beast au (ectoloader)

Submerged Secrets (NEW)

Universe Hopping au (NEW)

Archeology au (NEW)

Sentience au (NEW)

Tormented Masterpieces au (VERY NEW)

Kingdom au (ALSO VERY NEW)

AU's made with the lovely @laughteronsilverwings:

Interdimensional Therapy au

Ass^2sins au

[ghostlyforxst]

So for my first request, can you write a oneshot featuring Leorio and a male reader in an Aladdin AU please? In the story, Leorio is a street rat who's arrested and brought towards the reader who's a prince. Rather then imprisoning him, the reader decides to punish him with public humiliation. So he has Leorio's hands and feet in gold shackles, his mouth covered by a multilayered cloth gag, and his cock locked in a gold chastity. Then he forces the street rat to follow him as he roams around the kingdom so everyone can see Leorio's new appearance. You can decide on the intimate acts between them. What do you think?

GENDER: Male Reader

WARNINGS: Aladdin AU, Inappropriate Language, 18+, Humiliation, Degrading, Slight! Praising, Chastity, Oral (male receiving), Anal (dry), hand job, Gagging, and Grammar/Spelling Mistakes

CHARACTER: Leorio Paladiknight (+ mention side characters)

WORD COUNT: 1.7k

A/N- Had myself blushing throughout writing this, but I hope this was to your liking!

     Leorio leaps from the rooftop with a thud of his feet, panting, a loaf of bread in his hand as he charges into the crowd of people—veering away from the guards that jumped at him. 

     “Stop! Thief! You won’t get away easily this time, street rat!” The guard shouted from behind, furiously. 

     Leorio sends a person into the guard, nearly being yanked back by his tattered vest by the guard, peering over his shoulder as he cackled. Leorio whirls back around, shouting as he collides into a clothes line and hurling the clothes onto the dirt ground and him.  

     “Owah!” Leorio cried as he was snatched up. 

     “No more running, thief. You’ve been a problem for months now,  I’m sure the prince would be glad to handle you.” The guard grinned, dragging Leorio away. 

     “Shit,” Leorio mumbled. 

_

     Kneeling before you was a man, a thief, a fairly handsome one at that—despite his ebony hair shrouding his face as he bowed. You peered down at the man, smiling smugly.

     "What is your name, street rat?" You inquired, thrumming your jeweled fingers against the golden-engraved arm of the throne. 

     “Leorio,” the thief murmured. 

     “Your words cannot be heard, now speak up and give me your attention.” You frowned, scooting further off your seat to eye him closer.

     “...”

     Gesturing a hand to your royal guard, the guard’s gloved fingers entangled with the man's rumpled hair and forced his head back, a pained whimper stifling from him. Your eyes broaden as you hide your face with your hand, confounded with his personable features: his teary eyes, his trembling lips that mutter excuses, and his defined features.    

     "Oh would he make a fine pet," You pondered, "maybe that should be his punishment."

     “Leorio,” he yelped, “ Leorio Paladiknight.” 

     You hummed and rested back into the cushioned chair, “a petty thief you are, thieving a loaf of bread. That didn’t get you far, hm?” 

     Leorio scowled, “it was for my sick friend-”

     “Hush now, I've already decided your penalty.” You interrupted, rising from your seat to shadow over him.

     He lowers his soft and rich brown eyes defeatingly, submitting to you. 

     "You'll be sentenced to public humiliation.” you declared before turning to the guards. “Strip him and chain him in the finest, including his dick, and then bring him to me at the gates.” 

     Leorio’s eyes widen, speechless, turning away as you invade his breathing space.

     “Be a good boy and I’ll fuck you tonight.” You susurrated, lifting your chin with an impish grin. 

     You wave your hand at your guards to haul the eye-catching thief away. You already felt aroused, envisioning Leorio suggestively, pinching at your tightening trousers—impatient to see him.  

_

     Your heart thud against your heaving chest, you’ve had many concubines before but they have never made you feel this exhilarated and captivated—what was it with this street rat?

     Your breath hiccuped, the clattering of chains drawing you from your thoughts, as you felt your cock twitched at the sight of him; his lean physique was exposed, giving you the pleasure to view his caged girth. His wrist and ankles were fastened with quality-bejeweled chains— it was a praiseworthy sight. 

     He halted before your eyes, waiting in his nakedness and gilded binds, with blushful cheeks. 

     “There's my little slut.” You smiled, happily throwing your hands up. 

     “Please your majesty, please I'll take any other punishment than this!” Leorio pleaded, his waterline glistening with pitiful tears. 

     “Tempting, but did I give you permission to speak?” You questioned, seizing his chin.

     He nodded his head no and sniffled. You plunged your hand into your pocket and probed around until you retrieved a flashy and garish gag, thrusting it between his lips and strapping it around his head. “This will assure that your chattering mouth will stay quiet throughout the ball.”  

     “Plwsh!” Leorio choked, his cheeks wettening. 

     “Hm?” You hummed, chuckling.  

     “Prince Y/N.” The servant addressed, bowing. 

     “Yes?’ You answered, raising a brow. 

     “Queen M/N and Princess Machi are waiting for your arrival.”      

     “Alright, thank you.” You nodded, reaching for the leash of the chain. “Let us depart.”  

     You stepped up onto the arrayed camel, with help of servants, heaving Leorio up and into your lap. Your lips kissed at the skin of his nape, teasing the sensitive skin between your teeth. 

     “Mhmph.” Leorio groaned, his ass nudging up against your hardened dick. 

     “Patient,” you laughed, “you’ll receive pleasure after your punishment, my pet.”

     He whined, avoiding your amused eyes, embarrassed by his desperate actions. 

     “Another whore?” Machi commented, eyeing Leorio as her camel came to rest alongside you. 

    “Jealous my dear sister?” 

    Her eyes rolled and simpered, “He is cute.” 

    You smiled huffily, stroking your hand along Leorio’s thigh. 

    "Mother is waiting, c'mon." 

_

     The marketplace was crowded, you felt Leorio’s heart throbbed restlessly as the local’s nosy eyes watched you all pass through—lingering on Leorio’s bare body.

     “Look at you, gathering all the people’s attention. Is that what you wanted, to be noticed, to be the centerpiece?” You speak against his ear softly, reaching to trace the slit of his cock. 

     Leorio whined through the gag, drool dribbling down his chin, and slouching his head. Soon the streets were swarmed with the local’s gossiping voices, sharing their thoughts with their friends and family. 

     “Must be the prince’s new plaything,” One whispered, curiously. 

     “Understandably, the man is quite attractive.” Another answered, their lips curling upwards. 

     The remarks at the tawdry and thronged ball were worse, the words were more suggestive as if it was ordinary. They were handsy, their accessorized fingers dancing around his barren skin and their nails nipping at his flesh teasingly, it made him squirmed beneath their touch. 

     “He has a nice girth to him for being a street rat,” Prince Kurapika mentioned. 

     You nodded your head in agreement, discerning Leorio’s tightening grasp on your arm. You observed him as he stared at you teary-eyed, stepping in front of you.

     “Kan weh leaveh, yourr mmajesth?” Leorio asked behind the gag, gripping at your clothed chest.  

     You tugged him from the noisy ballroom into the placid hall, whisking him further away into an empty room. You shoved him against the wall, your heart racing with unsteady breaths, you tore the gag from his lips and forced your lips against his desperately. How could you resist him? His embarrassment excited you, wondering if he would make those same facial expressions when he was underneath you.

     You withdraw from the kiss and moisten your lips with your tongue, “Do you want this?”

     “Yes, yes please.” Leorio whined, his chained hands tugging at your shirt. 

     Your lips grinned lopsidedly, “Alright, but we got to make it quick. Don’t need people to come looking for us.” 

     Your hands take hold of Leorio’s shoulders, urging him to his knees. “Remove my trousers.”  

     Leorio grasped your pants feverishly, yanking them to the ground along with your briefs. His fumbling finger enveloped your erection, caressing your dick steadily as he closed the space between the both of you. His tongue pokes from between his lips, lapping at your oozing cock before taking you fully into his mouth—bobbing his head persistently, his tongue swirling and pressuring competently. Your head rolls back, pinching your bottom lip between your teeth, fingers stroking over his head with a groan. 

     You stared hazily down at Leorio, “god, did he feel so good~” 

     You grabbed a fist full of his dark hair and forced your cock down his throat, his muscle constricting around you as he choked. Leorio’s hands clawed at your hips as you plunged yourself into his mouth, fucking his face wildly. 

      “Your mouth is fucking me so well,” you keened, “s-so close!” 

      Leorio whimpered around your dick and you gasped, your hips stilled as you spewed your steaming release down his throat. You watched as he gulped down your cum, opening his mouth to present you his tongue and empty mouth. 

      “Such a good whore.” You mumbled, kissing him.”so fucking gorgeous like that, spread  yourself out for me like a good boy.” 

     Leorio pressed his face into the chilled-marbled floor, spreading his cheeks and flaunted his pucker, whining.

      “Quiet.” You snapped, rubbing the head of your cock around his hole. 

      “Please-ah!” 

      You sheathe yourself into his ass dryly, your hands on either side of his head. “I told you to be quiet, do you want to be gagged again so early?” 

      Leorio only cried in response and thrusting his hips back. You chuckled, pulling back before thrusting yourself back in and repeated it. “Desperate little thing.��� 

      His lips parted with a restrained wail, scratching at the floor as his body jerked with each ram of your length.

     Fat tears drizzled down his cheeks, the chastity denying him any pleasure. Leorio was on edge, unable to attain his own orgasm, thrashing and pleading. “Please,,,remove the chastity!” 

    “Beg for it.” You snickered, sending your cock into his prostate. 

    “Please your majesty, I’ll do whatever you desire if you grant me the wish to cum.” Leorio begged, sobbing into the floor. 

     “Fine, since you asked so nicely.” You purred, digging into the pocket of your trousers for the keys and unlocking the chastity. 

     “Thank you! Thank you! Thank you!” He repeated, rolling his hips against yours hastily. 

     “Calm yourself.” You grunted, returning to a leisured thrust. 

     “Mhm.” Leorio hummed, dumbified as he slobbered on himself. 

     “Fuck.” You cursed, picking up your pace.  

     The room resonated with a slick smack and it smelt of musk, grunts and moan unveiling the real reason for its smell and noisiness. Your bodies were flustered and doused in sweat, becoming exhausted as the both of you neared your ends. 

     “Can I cum, sire?” Leorio mewled, his legs spreading further. 

     You didn’t answer, waiting for your second orasgam to approach, and driving your cock vigorously. 

     “Now.” You breathe, burying your face into his back as you coated his pliable wall with cum. 

     A guttural moan emits from Leorio as his thick cum spurted from his dick and onto the expensive floor and onto his heaving chest. 

    “We’ve gone longer than we should've, clean up quick and let’s leave.” You ordered, snatching your pants and briefs from the ground. 

     “Yes, Prince Y/N.” Leorio spoke sluggishly, crawling from the floor. 

     You brushed your hands through your hair, neatening your sex hair, before retrieving the chastity and gag from the now cum stained marble. “C’mere.” 

      Leorio stepped towards you and you grabbed his wrist, yanking him closer and securing the gag back around his head. You crouched below Leorio’s waist, flicking his drooping cock, and guiding the chastity back onto him. 

      Leorio’s eyes tighten shut with a wordless choke and goosebumps crept up onto his skin.  

      “Let’s go, I’m sure my mother is questioning my absence.” 

_

     “Where has your brother wandered off too?” The queen asked, her eyes searching the just-about vacant ballroom.

      “Probably fucking his new toy.” Machi mumbled, huffing.

[lsleofthelost]

this is a thing that’s been in my brain for way too long, so even if it’s kind of half baked i’ve decided to release it into the wild

so, before i’ve watched the descendants movies (can u believe there was a time when i didn’t have all of them marinating in my mind…) i kind of assumed that by Descendants, they meant like really descendants, as in 2-3 generations at least, not just children of heroes and villains. i remembered that a couple of months ago, and thought well, that could make a great AU, where we keep all the characters but we make them a little more distant in generations. and because i love historical dramas, i’ve created a whole fake history in my head.

here’s what i have so far:

The timeline is that King Adam created the Isle when he did, and sent the first batch of villains then. The action of the films that historically take place before that are shifted to take place practically simultaneously or soon after Auradon forms (Hercules, The Sword in the Stone, Mulan, Aladdin, The Sleeping Beauty, Emprerors New Groove, Pocahontas) so all the villains and henchmen are sent there as the first experimental batch. They get an Island from the Olympians, the Island that before was serving as a prison only for the God of the Underworld, Hades. They call it Le Carcéral, which just means The Prison. The magical cage at that point is different, it allows everything to come in, but it doesn’t let anything or anyone leave. So the magically inclined can summon their belongings, even parts of their castles, perform magic, etc. but if they tried to curse someone outside, it would either bounce back inside or just dissipate at contact with the barrier.

During Adam’s reign, there is still unrest in other Kingdoms, and with their strong military (backed by Wei, the Empire from Mulan) and experience in dealing with villains, Auradon helps them to catch and neutralise the threats by sending them to Le Carcéral in exchange for these Kingdoms either paying a tax or joining the Union and also pay the tax but now getting offered military support, trade agreements, political unity etc. So the films that take place during this are: Rapunzel (Corona joins), Frozen (Arendelle doesn’t, they already trade well and have a good military), Alice (Wonderland can’t really join, since it’s kind of like a dimensionally weird space + value privacy in their politics, but they get some trade agreements because they have unique products to export, still pay the prison tax), Cinderella (i’ve long ago decided to call their Kingdom Sujeong, also join; but stay pretty closed off politically, not letting Auradon interfere a lot), Ariel (Tirulia, which is what I think Eric’s Kingdom is called, enthusiastically joins, Atlantea doesn’t, still pretty hostile to humans).

So there are all these new villains and their henchmen, but there is also a pretty steady, if small, stream of prisoners accused of the worst crimes. Treason, practicing dark magical arts (magic overall is still legal), first degree murder, mass murder, drug trafficking, etc. The Island becomes crowded, so the fairies bring up more territory all around to enlarge it. This is also the time where they realise that by enchanting the barrier to let absolutely nothing leave, they made it so the prisoners’ years and even souls are trapped, they are sort of preserved in age and can’t even die. They modify the enchantment but that turns into a huge riot and a lot of people, including the Auradon patrol guards and some volunteers, die, so they reverse it. This is around the time when Le Carcéral becomes The Isle of the Lost colloquially for the prisoners.

Sometime during the calmer times, I’m thinking soon after Corona joins, Belle gives birth to their first son, securing the line of succession with Le Grand Dauphin Marcel. They have three more children, two girls and a boy, but only the girls survive. Elisabeth marries the Camelot prince, and Adelaide marries an Auradon noble who was gaining traction to start a civil war.

King and Queen start being more religious after the loss of their son, and proclaim Catholic Christianity the official religion in the Union. They don’t outright ban practice of other religions, but Agrabah leaves nonetheless, they still house their worst prisoners at Le Carcéral, so they now pay a bigger tax but they are an incredibly rich land, they can afford it. (The Hunchback of Notre Dame takes place around here)

With more religion, they start to introduce and enforce more and more laws against magic.

Marcel marries the princess of Schwarzwald, Charlotte, Snow White’s oldest child, and has a child of his own, while Adam is still ruling, Benjamin. Marcel dies unexpectedly, when Ben is only five, so the title of heir apparent, Le Grand Dauphin, goes to him.

Adam is already in his fifties-sixties when the events of Peter Pan (Auradon and Camelot don’t consider the native population and proclaim the islands theirs, and cleans away the pirates in the surrounding waters), Atlantis (the discovery of Neverland spurs more exploration missions, but theirs is officially fruitless since the members of the crew decide to keep Atlantis a secret from the world), The Princess and the Frog (yes this opens plot holes by being so close in time to Pocahontas, but this is my fictional world so i’ve decided it’s just two different places, so the land Tiana is from is just New Orleans, a country in the Commonwealth of former Auradon colonies. They join but Naveen’s Kingdom doesn’t, since they are majority Hindu), 101 Dalmatians (the downfall, capture and imprisonment of Cruella de Vil make huge news, as she was regarded as The Style Icon of all Kingdoms). The fact that as much as they punish villains, new magical villains, or villains using magical artefacts, are still so active makes Adam outlaw magic fully, with only exceptions having to get the Crown’s personal approval.

When Benjamin is around 13, Adam dies, leaving him with the tension at the border with Aragon, Moors and Ulstead (Kingdoms of Aurora and Phillip). They want to make a bid for overturning the Union and coming out ruling over it. Some reasons are that their House has strong connections, through history and marriage with many other Union Kingdoms, they want to reverse the magic ban, and they own more land than Auradon and have to pay huge taxes for it. Queen Regent Charlottes rule is spent in trying to minimise the threat of war, small battles at borders, and protecting Benjamin. When he comes of age and is crowned King (at age eighteen), he is also continuing that. But he sees an opportunity for peace when he learns that Princess Audriana has been presented to society and has yet to have an official marriage contract. They get married, and pleased to see someone of Amanacer House on the throne and to have their taxes reduced, the war actions seize.

Once the threat that has been hanging over his head for more than five years is taken care of, Benjamin starts looking at the project that his father has been passionate about but been turned away by his grandfather. Freeing the trapped descendants from the Isle of the Lost.

[jessicas-pi]

(looks at ask game) (grabs dice bag and pulls out 2d10)

24, 34, & 18?

Excellent choices!!

24. the modern AU where Jyn and Cassian work at a motel!

Jyn leaned back in her chair. “Your turn to deal with them,” she whispered to her coworker. “It’s always my turn,” he complained, but sat up straight and smiled at the guests. “How can I help you?” She zoned out while he checked the guests in, counting the dirty ceiling tiles for the hundredth time, and in a minute or two, the guests were gone, leaving them alone again. Cass hummed to himself, spinning back and forth in his chair. “Did you forget your book?” Jyn asked, surprising them both. He looked over at her, brow furrowing. “Huh?” “You usually read, but today, you don’t have your book. Did you forget it?” “No. I finished it.”

34. Lost In (Wild) Space (Lost in Space/Rebels crossover!)

(This AU was started ages before the Ahsoka show was a thing, and we thought Ezra was in Wild Space/the Unknown Reigions. Just for context.)

“Wait. Wait.” Penny held her hands up. “What did you say your name was?!” The man looked at her, seeming confused. “Ezra Bridger?” “Mmm. Mmhm. Yeah.” Penny cleared her throat, then crossed her arms. “You, um. Does the phrase Spectre 6 mean anything to you?” Clearly, it did, because he stared at her in shock and suspicion. “So what, if it does?” “Penny?” Mom asked, frowning. “Do you know this man?” “Yes. No. Sort of.” Penny clapped her hands together, and took a deep breath. “Guys… we are in a galaxy far, far away.” “Yeah, we know,” Will replied, rolling his eyes. “No, I mean—” Penny huffed. “A Galaxy Far, Far Away! Do you seriously not remember? Star Wars? Star Wars: Rebels? That show I watched nonstop when I was a kid?” She waved her hand at their new guest. “Ezra Bridger! The Jedi! Guy who only wore orange all the time! Space Aladdin! Got kidnapped by the purple squid-whales! Come on, doesn’t this ring a bell?” “Wait, is he the one you had the really big crush on?” Judy giggled, raising her eyebrows. “Wuh! Bup! Bap-bah!” Penny objected quickly, pinching her hands in shut your mouth motions. “That is not the bell we’re ringing right now. Ring a different bell.”

18. All I've Learned Has Overturned

“Third Sister. Didn’t think you were still around.” “That was kind of the point, Seventh Brother.” Reva treaded softly across the sandy ground, unlit blade in her hand, circling the Inquisitor as he circled her. “Or should I call you Cal Kestis?”

[mmufanatic]

Here's the MMU/ Red Dwarf AU that nobody asked for! You probably don't need to have watched Red Dwarf to understand this.

-So, Daisy, Hazel and Alexander work on a mining ship (yep, ship in space and no, I have no idea what century this is) called Red Dwarf as maintenance crew

- On one of the planets they stop at, Alexander finds a pregnant stray cat that's ill

-Alexander being Alexander takes it in (completely throwing my 'Alexander is scared of cats' headcanon out the window) and looks after it. Only Hazel knows.

- Someone hears the cat meowing and reports it.

- Alexander and Hazel are told by the captain that they either tell them where the cat is or spend 18 months in stasis ( suspended animation). If they tell them where the cat is, it will be chucked out because it was unquarantined.

- They refuse and are put into stasis for 18 months.

- During this time, a radiation leak occurs, killing the whole crew, including Daisy, but Hazel and Alexander are safe in stasis.

- The cat was sealed safely in the hold ( idk how it got in there, but lucky for the cat!) and had the kittens. Over 3 million years, they evolved into a humanoid cat species that formed a society very similar to humans given that there was human stuff in the hold so they adapted to use it and learnt societal rules based off the books that they found there.

- Over time, the cats are pretty much human, except they have sharp teeth, some have claws, they purr, hiss, growl and love wool or string.

- One of these cats is George.

- Supplies are low and there aren't many of the cats left (George's parents are dead).

- The radiation is now at a safe level so they can leave the hold. They decide to take a smaller ship and leave Red Dwarf to find a new home.

-George is left behind because supplies are low and there isn't much room on the ship so someone has to stay behind, and thanks to a mix of racism and ableism, it's him.

- He's alone for a few years and he gets really bored in that time.

- It occurs to him that none of the cats looked around the rest of the ship, other than the hold, because they didn't know what killed the crew so they didn't want to risk it

- He looks around and finds the sleeping quarters and BOOM! There's CDs, DVDs, books, clothes, blankets, cushions - there's so much stuff to keep him entertained.

- He takes what he wants down to the hold so it feels more like a home

-He still feels really lonely though, especially at night

- Once the ship's computer is absolutely sure that the radiation levels are safe, Hazel and Alexander are let out of stasis.

- They go straight to the hologram projection suite and upload Daisy's disc (they create a Daisy made of light, basically. It's Daisy but technically it's not. Long story. Anyways, Daisy's back! Yay!)

- They go to their sleeping quarters and are more than a little freaked out to find a lot of their stuff gone.

- Hazel's all ' The ghosts of the crew took it! They're angry that we're alive when they're not!' bc I think Hazel would definitely have survivor's guilt.

- Daisy is very annoyed and wants a logical explanation so she scans the ship for life signs and gets a reading from the hold.

- They go down there, armed to the teeth, and find an Aladdin's cave of all their stuff, with George in one of Daisy's dresses, reading an Agatha Christie.

- Needless to say, this was definitely not what they were expecting.

- It takes a lot of explaining from Hazel, Daisy, Alexander, George and the ship's computer but eventually they work out what happened. They even find out that they're all the same age.

- Trouble is, George isn't very keen on giving up their stuff.

- They realise that he's really into politics (there were a lot of books on politics and history) so they try to explain it to him like that

( 'So... I colonised your wardrobe?'

'Yes.'

'And now I have to give your things back? Like the British Museum should give the stolen things back?'

'Yes.'

'....Ok.')

- He's still not very happy about it though

- At first, George is quite scared of them because they burst in with a load of guns.

- He soon learns that they're not a threat though and is just annoyed with them because in his mind, it's his ship and they just turned up

- As a compromise, they agree that some of their stuff is off limits, but some things can be shared.

- George still doesn't trust them

- Daisy and Hazel share a room and are really close.

- Alexander's in a room on his own and a bit lonely- he's quite jealous of Daisy and Hazel

- George finds the hold lonely and a bit scary when he's trying to go to sleep and he's vulnerable but he doesn't trust the others so he stays there.

- Then, after a while, there's an emergency, which gets sorted out pretty quickly, but George's routine is messed up, it was loud and overwhelming and since Daisy, Hazel and Alexander turned up it feels like everything has been one change after another.

- He goes down to the hold and has a pretty bad meltdown.

- Alexander was worried because he left abruptly so he goes to see him

- He finds him and ends up helping him through the meltdown.

- George isn't expecting him to be nice about it because he got used to ableism from the other cats

- But Alexander's just like ' Oh, I get them too, they're horrible aren't they'

- Once he's calmer, they read for a bit but once it gets late George doesn't want to be alone.

- And Alexander has a spare bunk!

- George stays in Alexander's room for the night and they both get a better night's sleep.

- After that, George stays in that room with Alexander and they become close friends.

- Alexander finds it very cute that George purrs when he hugs him

- George is just annoyed that he can't stop it.

- All four of them become good friends, although they are still a bit annoyed at George when he takes their stuff without asking.

[singswan-springswan]

okay but considering the space aladdin Aladdin AU, genie Kanan is never one to skimp on dramatics not only did he make his new son a prince, but he also actually magicked an entire kingdom into existence Over There complete with a legitimate history and real people and planted the memory of it in the mind of the world and put it on maps and wrote it in books and to top it all off he fabricated a whole life's worth of memories for ezra of actually growing up as the prince of that kingdom. the only thing he forgets to do is give ezra a fake princely name so when the sultan asks who he is he blurts out "Jabba the Hutt" and the crowd goes wild

[loonygooby]

Okay, here's the Camp Camp Medieval/Fantasy AU inspired by Aladdin (1992) and The Thief and the Cobbler (1993/95?), this AU is set in the fictional kingdom of Peaksburg in the 1806, most characters would be aged up, with Nikki and Nerris being 19.

Aladdin- Nicholette "Nikki" Jones (Nikki is an orphan tomboy and street urchin thief, she's been orphaned ever since she was 9 years old because her father left, and her mother died of a disease, she's been stealing to survive for 10 years, on how she would disguise herself being a prince is by pulling a Mulan, and disguising herself as a man, by being "Prince Nicholas III", LGBT wasn't a thing back then, the law, just like in the movie, says, "A prince must marry a princess", she grew up poor and living poverty)

Princess Jasmine- Princess Nerris (Nerris is daughter of the king and the princess of Peaksburg, she has to marry a suitor, Nerris grew up to be a beautiful woman, (Like I headcannon her in canon) she has long brown curly hair, no braces, no glasses, she wants a life of her own, she's never done a thing on her own, she's motherless, because her mother, the queen of Peaksburg, died when she was 9, her mother has been dead for 10 years, if Nerris does marry, she wants it to be for love, not for legacy. She wants to be in love with someone for their personality, not looks. And those snobby, obnoxious, princes/suitors aren't helping.)

The Genie- Harrison (I imagine Harrison as a genie being yellow like Bill Cipher from Gravity Falls, a goatee, and a brown little ponytail on the top of his head, and Harrison turns human during the song, "Prince Nicholas")

Abu- Comet (Space Kid is called "Comet", Nikki's little male brown squirrel companion, just like Abu in the original, Comet gets turned into an elephant)

The Magic Carpet- Timothy (The eagle, known in this AU as "Timothy the Magic Eagle")

The Sultan- King David (He's King of Peaksburg, he's a middle-aged man)

Rajah- Wolfie (The wolf from the episode, "The Forest", she's Nerris' companion in this AU)

Jafar- Daniel (Daniel is King David's royal advisor, he's an evil sorcerer in secret, attempting to take over the kingdom by marrying Nerris, he's 46 like David, like Jafar in the original, Daniel disguises himself as a longtime, lonely, elderly prisoner man. Unlike Jafar in the original, Daniel's first transformation is a grey-ish white fire-breathing dragon, and his final one being a grey-ish white genie.)

Iago- Max (Max is a crow in this)

The Cave of Wonders- Xemug

Razoul- Sal (Sal is captain of the royal guards of Peaksburg)

The Other Royal Guards- (The background police officers from the episodes)

The Peddler- Quartermaster

Gazeem the Thief- Dirty Kevin

The lady with the broomstick- Penelope Priss

The Balcony Harem Girls- Sasha, Erin, and Tabii

The Hungry Orphans- A random little girl and little boy

Prince Achmed- Prince Edward (Nerris' snobby, spoiled, obnoxious suitor and knight)

Omar the Melon Seller- Lester (The computer guy from some of the episodes

Farouk the Apple Seller- Cameron Campbell

Songs:

"Peakian Nights" (Parody of "Arabian Nights")

"One Jump Ahead"

"You Can Count On Me" (One of the deleted songs from Aladdin)

"Friend Like Me"

"Prince Nicholas" (Parody of "Prince Ali")

"A Whole New World"

"Why Me?" (One of Jafar's deleted villain songs)

"A Whole New World" (Reprise)

In honor of:

Albert Hirschfeld

(June 21st, 1903-January 20th, 2003)

Howard Elliot Ashman

(May 17th, 1950-March 14th, 1991)

Richard Edmund Williams

(March 19th, 1933-August 16th, 2019)

Robin McLaurin Williams

(July 21st, 1951-August 11th, 2014)

Gilbert Jeremy Gottfried

(February 28th, 1955-April 12th, 2022)

[aladdinaladdinblog]

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[dickens-daily]

CHAPTER XXV—A VISIT TO NEWGATE

‘The force of habit’ is a trite phrase in everybody’s mouth; and it is not a little remarkable that those who use it most as applied to others, unconsciously afford in their own persons singular examples of the power which habit and custom exercise over the minds of men, and of the little reflection they are apt to bestow on subjects with which every day’s experience has rendered them familiar. If Bedlam could be suddenly removed like another Aladdin’s palace, and set down on the space now occupied by Newgate, scarcely one man out of a hundred, whose road to business every morning lies through Newgate-street, or the Old Bailey, would pass the building without bestowing a hasty glance on its small, grated windows, and a transient thought upon the condition of the unhappy beings immured in its dismal cells; and yet these same men, day by day, and hour by hour, pass and repass this gloomy depository of the guilt and misery of London, in one perpetual stream of life and bustle, utterly unmindful of the throng of wretched creatures pent up within it—nay, not even knowing, or if they do, not heeding, the fact, that as they pass one particular angle of the massive wall with a light laugh or a merry whistle, they stand within one yard of a fellow-creature, bound and helpless, whose hours are numbered, from whom the last feeble ray of hope has fled for ever, and whose miserable career will shortly terminate in a violent and shameful death. Contact with death even in its least terrible shape, is solemn and appalling. How much more awful is it to reflect on this near vicinity to the dying—to men in full health and vigour, in the flower of youth or the prime of life, with all their faculties and perceptions as acute and perfect as your own; but dying, nevertheless—dying as surely—with the hand of death imprinted upon them as indelibly—as if mortal disease had wasted their frames to shadows, and corruption had already begun!

It was with some such thoughts as these that we determined, not many weeks since, to visit the interior of Newgate—in an amateur capacity, of course; and, having carried our intention into effect, we proceed to lay its results before our readers, in the hope—founded more upon the nature of the subject, than on any presumptuous confidence in our own descriptive powers—that this paper may not be found wholly devoid of interest. We have only to premise, that we do not intend to fatigue the reader with any statistical accounts of the prison; they will be found at length in numerous reports of numerous committees, and a variety of authorities of equal weight. We took no notes, made no memoranda, measured none of the yards, ascertained the exact number of inches in no particular room: are unable even to report of how many apartments the gaol is composed.

We saw the prison, and saw the prisoners; and what we did see, and what we thought, we will tell at once in our own way.

Having delivered our credentials to the servant who answered our knock at the door of the governor’s house, we were ushered into the ‘office;’ a little room, on the right-hand side as you enter, with two windows looking into the Old Bailey: fitted up like an ordinary attorney’s office, or merchant’s counting-house, with the usual fixtures—a wainscoted partition, a shelf or two, a desk, a couple of stools, a pair of clerks, an almanack, a clock, and a few maps. After a little delay, occasioned by sending into the interior of the prison for the officer whose duty it was to conduct us, that functionary arrived; a respectable-looking man of about two or three and fifty, in a broad-brimmed hat, and full suit of black, who, but for his keys, would have looked quite as much like a clergyman as a turnkey. We were disappointed; he had not even top-boots on. Following our conductor by a door opposite to that at which we had entered, we arrived at a small room, without any other furniture than a little desk, with a book for visitors’ autographs, and a shelf, on which were a few boxes for papers, and casts of the heads and faces of the two notorious murderers, Bishop and Williams; the former, in particular, exhibiting a style of head and set of features, which might have afforded sufficient moral grounds for his instant execution at any time, even had there been no other evidence against him. Leaving this room also, by an opposite door, we found ourself in the lodge which opens on the Old Bailey; one side of which is plentifully garnished with a choice collection of heavy sets of irons, including those worn by the redoubtable Jack Sheppard—genuine; and those said to have been graced by the sturdy limbs of the no less celebrated Dick Turpin—doubtful. From this lodge, a heavy oaken gate, bound with iron, studded with nails of the same material, and guarded by another turnkey, opens on a few steps, if we remember right, which terminate in a narrow and dismal stone passage, running parallel with the Old Bailey, and leading to the different yards, through a number of tortuous and intricate windings, guarded in their turn by huge gates and gratings, whose appearance is sufficient to dispel at once the slightest hope of escape that any new-comer may have entertained; and the very recollection of which, on eventually traversing the place again, involves one in a maze of confusion.

It is necessary to explain here, that the buildings in the prison, or in other words the different wards—form a square, of which the four sides abut respectively on the Old Bailey, the old College of Physicians (now forming a part of Newgate-market), the Sessions-house, and Newgate-street. The intermediate space is divided into several paved yards, in which the prisoners take such air and exercise as can be had in such a place. These yards, with the exception of that in which prisoners under sentence of death are confined (of which we shall presently give a more detailed description), run parallel with Newgate-street, and consequently from the Old Bailey, as it were, to Newgate-market. The women’s side is in the right wing of the prison nearest the Sessions-house. As we were introduced into this part of the building first, we will adopt the same order, and introduce our readers to it also.

Turning to the right, then, down the passage to which we just now adverted, omitting any mention of intervening gates—for if we noticed every gate that was unlocked for us to pass through, and locked again as soon as we had passed, we should require a gate at every comma—we came to a door composed of thick bars of wood, through which were discernible, passing to and fro in a narrow yard, some twenty women: the majority of whom, however, as soon as they were aware of the presence of strangers, retreated to their wards. One side of this yard is railed off at a considerable distance, and formed into a kind of iron cage, about five feet ten inches in height, roofed at the top, and defended in front by iron bars, from which the friends of the female prisoners communicate with them. In one corner of this singular-looking den, was a yellow, haggard, decrepit old woman, in a tattered gown that had once been black, and the remains of an old straw bonnet, with faded ribbon of the same hue, in earnest conversation with a young girl—a prisoner, of course—of about two-and-twenty. It is impossible to imagine a more poverty-stricken object, or a creature so borne down in soul and body, by excess of misery and destitution, as the old woman. The girl was a good-looking, robust female, with a profusion of hair streaming about in the wind—for she had no bonnet on—and a man’s silk pocket-handkerchief loosely thrown over a most ample pair of shoulders. The old woman was talking in that low, stifled tone of voice which tells so forcibly of mental anguish; and every now and then burst into an irrepressible sharp, abrupt cry of grief, the most distressing sound that ears can hear. The girl was perfectly unmoved. Hardened beyond all hope of redemption, she listened doggedly to her mother’s entreaties, whatever they were: and, beyond inquiring after ‘Jem,’ and eagerly catching at the few halfpence her miserable parent had brought her, took no more apparent interest in the conversation than the most unconcerned spectators. Heaven knows there were enough of them, in the persons of the other prisoners in the yard, who were no more concerned by what was passing before their eyes, and within their hearing, than if they were blind and deaf. Why should they be? Inside the prison, and out, such scenes were too familiar to them, to excite even a passing thought, unless of ridicule or contempt for feelings which they had long since forgotten.

A little farther on, a squalid-looking woman in a slovenly, thick-bordered cap, with her arms muffled in a large red shawl, the fringed ends of which straggled nearly to the bottom of a dirty white apron, was communicating some instructions to her visitor—her daughter evidently. The girl was thinly clad, and shaking with the cold. Some ordinary word of recognition passed between her and her mother when she appeared at the grating, but neither hope, condolence, regret, nor affection was expressed on either side. The mother whispered her instructions, and the girl received them with her pinched-up, half-starved features twisted into an expression of careful cunning. It was some scheme for the woman’s defence that she was disclosing, perhaps; and a sullen smile came over the girl’s face for an instant, as if she were pleased: not so much at the probability of her mother’s liberation, as at the chance of her ‘getting off’ in spite of her prosecutors. The dialogue was soon concluded; and with the same careless indifference with which they had approached each other, the mother turned towards the inner end of the yard, and the girl to the gate at which she had entered.

The girl belonged to a class—unhappily but too extensive—the very existence of which, should make men’s hearts bleed. Barely past her childhood, it required but a glance to discover that she was one of those children, born and bred in neglect and vice, who have never known what childhood is: who have never been taught to love and court a parent’s smile, or to dread a parent’s frown. The thousand nameless endearments of childhood, its gaiety and its innocence, are alike unknown to them. They have entered at once upon the stern realities and miseries of life, and to their better nature it is almost hopeless to appeal in after-times, by any of the references which will awaken, if it be only for a moment, some good feeling in ordinary bosoms, however corrupt they may have become. Talk to them of parental solicitude, the happy days of childhood, and the merry games of infancy! Tell them of hunger and the streets, beggary and stripes, the gin-shop, the station-house, and the pawnbroker’s, and they will understand you.

Two or three women were standing at different parts of the grating, conversing with their friends, but a very large proportion of the prisoners appeared to have no friends at all, beyond such of their old companions as might happen to be within the walls. So, passing hastily down the yard, and pausing only for an instant to notice the little incidents we have just recorded, we were conducted up a clean and well-lighted flight of stone stairs to one of the wards. There are several in this part of the building, but a description of one is a description of the whole.

It was a spacious, bare, whitewashed apartment, lighted, of course, by windows looking into the interior of the prison, but far more light and airy than one could reasonably expect to find in such a situation. There was a large fire with a deal table before it, round which ten or a dozen women were seated on wooden forms at dinner. Along both sides of the room ran a shelf; below it, at regular intervals, a row of large hooks were fixed in the wall, on each of which was hung the sleeping mat of a prisoner: her rug and blanket being folded up, and placed on the shelf above. At night, these mats are placed on the floor, each beneath the hook on which it hangs during the day; and the ward is thus made to answer the purposes both of a day-room and sleeping apartment. Over the fireplace, was a large sheet of pasteboard, on which were displayed a variety of texts from Scripture, which were also scattered about the room in scraps about the size and shape of the copy-slips which are used in schools. On the table was a sufficient provision of a kind of stewed beef and brown bread, in pewter dishes, which are kept perfectly bright, and displayed on shelves in great order and regularity when they are not in use.

The women rose hastily, on our entrance, and retired in a hurried manner to either side of the fireplace. They were all cleanly—many of them decently—attired, and there was nothing peculiar, either in their appearance or demeanour. One or two resumed the needlework which they had probably laid aside at the commencement of their meal; others gazed at the visitors with listless curiosity; and a few retired behind their companions to the very end of the room, as if desirous to avoid even the casual observation of the strangers. Some old Irish women, both in this and other wards, to whom the thing was no novelty, appeared perfectly indifferent to our presence, and remained standing close to the seats from which they had just risen; but the general feeling among the females seemed to be one of uneasiness during the period of our stay among them: which was very brief. Not a word was uttered during the time of our remaining, unless, indeed, by the wardswoman in reply to some question which we put to the turnkey who accompanied us. In every ward on the female side, a wardswoman is appointed to preserve order, and a similar regulation is adopted among the males. The wardsmen and wardswomen are all prisoners, selected for good conduct. They alone are allowed the privilege of sleeping on bedsteads; a small stump bedstead being placed in every ward for that purpose. On both sides of the gaol, is a small receiving-room, to which prisoners are conducted on their first reception, and whence they cannot be removed until they have been examined by the surgeon of the prison. [2]

Retracing our steps to the dismal passage in which we found ourselves at first (and which, by-the-bye, contains three or four dark cells for the accommodation of refractory prisoners), we were led through a narrow yard to the ‘school’—a portion of the prison set apart for boys under fourteen years of age. In a tolerable-sized room, in which were writing-materials and some copy-books, was the schoolmaster, with a couple of his pupils; the remainder having been fetched from an adjoining apartment, the whole were drawn up in line for our inspection. There were fourteen of them in all, some with shoes, some without; some in pinafores without jackets, others in jackets without pinafores, and one in scarce anything at all. The whole number, without an exception we believe, had been committed for trial on charges of pocket-picking; and fourteen such terrible little faces we never beheld.—There was not one redeeming feature among them—not a glance of honesty—not a wink expressive of anything but the gallows and the hulks, in the whole collection. As to anything like shame or contrition, that was entirely out of the question. They were evidently quite gratified at being thought worth the trouble of looking at; their idea appeared to be, that we had come to see Newgate as a grand affair, and that they were an indispensable part of the show; and every boy as he ‘fell in’ to the line, actually seemed as pleased and important as if he had done something excessively meritorious in getting there at all. We never looked upon a more disagreeable sight, because we never saw fourteen such hopeless creatures of neglect, before.

On either side of the school-yard is a yard for men, in one of which—that towards Newgate-street—prisoners of the more respectable class are confined. Of the other, we have little description to offer, as the different wards necessarily partake of the same character. They are provided, like the wards on the women’s side, with mats and rugs, which are disposed of in the same manner during the day; the only very striking difference between their appearance and that of the wards inhabited by the females, is the utter absence of any employment. Huddled together on two opposite forms, by the fireside, sit twenty men perhaps; here, a boy in livery; there, a man in a rough great-coat and top-boots; farther on, a desperate-looking fellow in his shirt-sleeves, with an old Scotch cap upon his shaggy head; near him again, a tall ruffian, in a smock-frock; next to him, a miserable being of distressed appearance, with his head resting on his hand;—all alike in one respect, all idle and listless. When they do leave the fire, sauntering moodily about, lounging in the window, or leaning against the wall, vacantly swinging their bodies to and fro. With the exception of a man reading an old newspaper, in two or three instances, this was the case in every ward we entered.

The only communication these men have with their friends, is through two close iron gratings, with an intermediate space of about a yard in width between the two, so that nothing can be handed across, nor can the prisoner have any communication by touch with the person who visits him. The married men have a separate grating, at which to see their wives, but its construction is the same.

The prison chapel is situated at the back of the governor’s house: the latter having no windows looking into the interior of the prison. Whether the associations connected with the place—the knowledge that here a portion of the burial service is, on some dreadful occasions, performed over the quick and not upon the dead—cast over it a still more gloomy and sombre air than art has imparted to it, we know not, but its appearance is very striking. There is something in a silent and deserted place of worship, solemn and impressive at any time; and the very dissimilarity of this one from any we have been accustomed to, only enhances the impression. The meanness of its appointments—the bare and scanty pulpit, with the paltry painted pillars on either side—the women’s gallery with its great heavy curtain—the men’s with its unpainted benches and dingy front—the tottering little table at the altar, with the commandments on the wall above it, scarcely legible through lack of paint, and dust and damp—so unlike the velvet and gilding, the marble and wood, of a modern church—are strange and striking. There is one object, too, which rivets the attention and fascinates the gaze, and from which we may turn horror-stricken in vain, for the recollection of it will haunt us, waking and sleeping, for a long time afterwards. Immediately below the reading-desk, on the floor of the chapel, and forming the most conspicuous object in its little area, is the condemned pew; a huge black pen, in which the wretched people, who are singled out for death, are placed on the Sunday preceding their execution, in sight of all their fellow-prisoners, from many of whom they may have been separated but a week before, to hear prayers for their own souls, to join in the responses of their own burial service, and to listen to an address, warning their recent companions to take example by their fate, and urging themselves, while there is yet time—nearly four-and-twenty hours—to ‘turn, and flee from the wrath to come!’ Imagine what have been the feelings of the men whom that fearful pew has enclosed, and of whom, between the gallows and the knife, no mortal remnant may now remain! Think of the hopeless clinging to life to the last, and the wild despair, far exceeding in anguish the felon’s death itself, by which they have heard the certainty of their speedy transmission to another world, with all their crimes upon their heads, rung into their ears by the officiating clergyman!

At one time—and at no distant period either—the coffins of the men about to be executed, were placed in that pew, upon the seat by their side, during the whole service. It may seem incredible, but it is true. Let us hope that the increased spirit of civilisation and humanity which abolished this frightful and degrading custom, may extend itself to other usages equally barbarous; usages which have not even the plea of utility in their defence, as every year’s experience has shown them to be more and more inefficacious.

Leaving the chapel, descending to the passage so frequently alluded to, and crossing the yard before noticed as being allotted to prisoners of a more respectable description than the generality of men confined here, the visitor arrives at a thick iron gate of great size and strength. Having been admitted through it by the turnkey on duty, he turns sharp round to the left, and pauses before another gate; and, having passed this last barrier, he stands in the most terrible part of this gloomy building—the condemned ward.

The press-yard, well known by name to newspaper readers, from its frequent mention in accounts of executions, is at the corner of the building, and next to the ordinary’s house, in Newgate-street: running from Newgate-street, towards the centre of the prison, parallel with Newgate-market. It is a long, narrow court, of which a portion of the wall in Newgate-street forms one end, and the gate the other. At the upper end, on the left hand—that is, adjoining the wall in Newgate-street—is a cistern of water, and at the bottom a double grating (of which the gate itself forms a part) similar to that before described. Through these grates the prisoners are allowed to see their friends; a turnkey always remaining in the vacant space between, during the whole interview. Immediately on the right as you enter, is a building containing the press-room, day-room, and cells; the yard is on every side surrounded by lofty walls guarded by chevaux de frise; and the whole is under the constant inspection of vigilant and experienced turnkeys.

In the first apartment into which we were conducted—which was at the top of a staircase, and immediately over the press-room—were five-and-twenty or thirty prisoners, all under sentence of death, awaiting the result of the recorder’s report—men of all ages and appearances, from a hardened old offender with swarthy face and grizzly beard of three days’ growth, to a handsome boy, not fourteen years old, and of singularly youthful appearance even for that age, who had been condemned for burglary. There was nothing remarkable in the appearance of these prisoners. One or two decently-dressed men were brooding with a dejected air over the fire; several little groups of two or three had been engaged in conversation at the upper end of the room, or in the windows; and the remainder were crowded round a young man seated at a table, who appeared to be engaged in teaching the younger ones to write. The room was large, airy, and clean. There was very little anxiety or mental suffering depicted in the countenance of any of the men;—they had all been sentenced to death, it is true, and the recorder’s report had not yet been made; but, we question whether there was a man among them, notwithstanding, who did not know that although he had undergone the ceremony, it never was intended that his life should be sacrificed. On the table lay a Testament, but there were no tokens of its having been in recent use.

In the press-room below, were three men, the nature of whose offence rendered it necessary to separate them, even from their companions in guilt. It is a long, sombre room, with two windows sunk into the stone wall, and here the wretched men are pinioned on the morning of their execution, before moving towards the scaffold. The fate of one of these prisoners was uncertain; some mitigatory circumstances having come to light since his trial, which had been humanely represented in the proper quarter. The other two had nothing to expect from the mercy of the crown; their doom was sealed; no plea could be urged in extenuation of their crime, and they well knew that for them there was no hope in this world. ‘The two short ones,’ the turnkey whispered, ‘were dead men.’

The man to whom we have alluded as entertaining some hopes of escape, was lounging, at the greatest distance he could place between himself and his companions, in the window nearest to the door. He was probably aware of our approach, and had assumed an air of courageous indifference; his face was purposely averted towards the window, and he stirred not an inch while we were present. The other two men were at the upper end of the room. One of them, who was imperfectly seen in the dim light, had his back towards us, and was stooping over the fire, with his right arm on the mantel-piece, and his head sunk upon it. The other was leaning on the sill of the farthest window. The light fell full upon him, and communicated to his pale, haggard face, and disordered hair, an appearance which, at that distance, was ghastly. His cheek rested upon his hand; and, with his face a little raised, and his eyes wildly staring before him, he seemed to be unconsciously intent on counting the chinks in the opposite wall. We passed this room again afterwards. The first man was pacing up and down the court with a firm military step—he had been a soldier in the foot-guards—and a cloth cap jauntily thrown on one side of his head. He bowed respectfully to our conductor, and the salute was returned. The other two still remained in the positions we have described, and were as motionless as statues. [3]

A few paces up the yard, and forming a continuation of the building, in which are the two rooms we have just quitted, lie the condemned cells. The entrance is by a narrow and obscure stair-case leading to a dark passage, in which a charcoal stove casts a lurid tint over the objects in its immediate vicinity, and diffuses something like warmth around. From the left-hand side of this passage, the massive door of every cell on the story opens; and from it alone can they be approached. There are three of these passages, and three of these ranges of cells, one above the other; but in size, furniture and appearance, they are all precisely alike. Prior to the recorder’s report being made, all the prisoners under sentence of death are removed from the day-room at five o’clock in the afternoon, and locked up in these cells, where they are allowed a candle until ten o’clock; and here they remain until seven next morning. When the warrant for a prisoner’s execution arrives, he is removed to the cells and confined in one of them until he leaves it for the scaffold. He is at liberty to walk in the yard; but, both in his walks and in his cell, he is constantly attended by a turnkey who never leaves him on any pretence.

We entered the first cell. It was a stone dungeon, eight feet long by six wide, with a bench at the upper end, under which were a common rug, a bible, and prayer-book. An iron candlestick was fixed into the wall at the side; and a small high window in the back admitted as much air and light as could struggle in between a double row of heavy, crossed iron bars. It contained no other furniture of any description.

Conceive the situation of a man, spending his last night on earth in this cell. Buoyed up with some vague and undefined hope of reprieve, he knew not why—indulging in some wild and visionary idea of escaping, he knew not how—hour after hour of the three preceding days allowed him for preparation, has fled with a speed which no man living would deem possible, for none but this dying man can know. He has wearied his friends with entreaties, exhausted the attendants with importunities, neglected in his feverish restlessness the timely warnings of his spiritual consoler; and, now that the illusion is at last dispelled, now that eternity is before him and guilt behind, now that his fears of death amount almost to madness, and an overwhelming sense of his helpless, hopeless state rushes upon him, he is lost and stupefied, and has neither thoughts to turn to, nor power to call upon, the Almighty Being, from whom alone he can seek mercy and forgiveness, and before whom his repentance can alone avail.

Hours have glided by, and still he sits upon the same stone bench with folded arms, heedless alike of the fast decreasing time before him, and the urgent entreaties of the good man at his side. The feeble light is wasting gradually, and the deathlike stillness of the street without, broken only by the rumbling of some passing vehicle which echoes mournfully through the empty yards, warns him that the night is waning fast away. The deep bell of St. Paul’s strikes—one! He heard it; it has roused him. Seven hours left! He paces the narrow limits of his cell with rapid strides, cold drops of terror starting on his forehead, and every muscle of his frame quivering with agony. Seven hours! He suffers himself to be led to his seat, mechanically takes the bible which is placed in his hand, and tries to read and listen. No: his thoughts will wander. The book is torn and soiled by use—and like the book he read his lessons in, at school, just forty years ago! He has never bestowed a thought upon it, perhaps, since he left it as a child: and yet the place, the time, the room—nay, the very boys he played with, crowd as vividly before him as if they were scenes of yesterday; and some forgotten phrase, some childish word, rings in his ears like the echo of one uttered but a minute since. The voice of the clergyman recalls him to himself. He is reading from the sacred book its solemn promises of pardon for repentance, and its awful denunciation of obdurate men. He falls upon his knees and clasps his hands to pray. Hush! what sound was that? He starts upon his feet. It cannot be two yet. Hark! Two quarters have struck;—the third—the fourth. It is! Six hours left. Tell him not of repentance! Six hours’ repentance for eight times six years of guilt and sin! He buries his face in his hands, and throws himself on the bench.

Worn with watching and excitement, he sleeps, and the same unsettled state of mind pursues him in his dreams. An insupportable load is taken from his breast; he is walking with his wife in a pleasant field, with the bright sky above them, and a fresh and boundless prospect on every side—how different from the stone walls of Newgate! She is looking—not as she did when he saw her for the last time in that dreadful place, but as she used when he loved her—long, long ago, before misery and ill-treatment had altered her looks, and vice had changed his nature, and she is leaning upon his arm, and looking up into his face with tenderness and affection—and he does not strike her now, nor rudely shake her from him. And oh! how glad he is to tell her all he had forgotten in that last hurried interview, and to fall on his knees before her and fervently beseech her pardon for all the unkindness and cruelty that wasted her form and broke her heart! The scene suddenly changes. He is on his trial again: there are the judge and jury, and prosecutors, and witnesses, just as they were before. How full the court is—what a sea of heads—with a gallows, too, and a scaffold—and how all those people stare at him! Verdict, ‘Guilty.’ No matter; he will escape.

The night is dark and cold, the gates have been left open, and in an instant he is in the street, flying from the scene of his imprisonment like the wind. The streets are cleared, the open fields are gained and the broad, wide country lies before him. Onward he dashes in the midst of darkness, over hedge and ditch, through mud and pool, bounding from spot to spot with a speed and lightness, astonishing even to himself. At length he pauses; he must be safe from pursuit now; he will stretch himself on that bank and sleep till sunrise.

A period of unconsciousness succeeds. He wakes, cold and wretched. The dull, gray light of morning is stealing into the cell, and falls upon the form of the attendant turnkey. Confused by his dreams, he starts from his uneasy bed in momentary uncertainty. It is but momentary. Every object in the narrow cell is too frightfully real to admit of doubt or mistake. He is the condemned felon again, guilty and despairing; and in two hours more will be dead.

[2] The regulations of the prison relative to the confinement of prisoners during the day, their sleeping at night, their taking their meals, and other matters of gaol economy, have been all altered-greatly for the better—since this sketch was first published. Even the construction of the prison itself has been changed.

[3] These two men were executed shortly afterwards. The other was respited during his Majesty’s pleasure.

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