Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Once upon a time, in a kingdom far far away, with snow-capped mountains and gently rolling lakes, there lived a beautiful princess named Stéphane.

Princess Stéphane’s beauty was unrivalled, not just in her kingdom but in all land on earth. She had the most beautiful chestnut hair, sparkling hazel eyes and snowy white fair skin, and all who had seen her could only marvel in awe.

Then came the princess’s birthday. After years of refusing to be married, her parents finally decided that she must marry, but they agreed to the strong-willed princess’s demand that she choose her husband herself. 

Suitors from kingdoms near and far flocked to the country, hoping to ask for the princess’s hand in marriage. But Princess Stéphane was cold and harsh; she dismissed every suitor that came before her, claiming they were either “too ugly”, “too stupid”, “too proud and snobby”, “too weak” or “too straight” (!).

Many suitors returned home disappointed, some miserable and others bitter. “She may be beautiful, but she is cruel and will not be a good wife,” they said. “No,” others disagreed, “underneath her cold facade she must have a passionate heart.” 

Nevertheless, even more were undeterred by the words of the rejected suitors, and the line of suitors in front of the palace gates only lengthened with each passing day. Eventually the princess grew restless: she sent the suitors she deemed “too ugly” away, set the rest three riddles to solve, and drove away every man who could not give the correct answers. She then declared that all remaining suitors must duel each other, and whoever triumphs shall win her hand.

Weeks passed until two men were left standing: Prince Daisuke of the Kingdom of Jaran and Duke Keiji of the Grand Duchy of Keisatsu. The Sun rose and the princes exchanged hostile words. “I will win and marry the princess.” “No, you little piece of shit, I will win and take the princess’s hand!”

They stared down at each other, ready to pounce as the judge announced the start of the duel. They charged, the clanging of their katanas and the sound of their battle cries filling the air. Princess Stéphane watched, dispassionately, from her balcony high in the palace, as the two dark-haired men fought each other fiercely. 

The intense duel for Princess Stéphane’s hand in marriage was far from over when something - or rather, someone - unexpected appeared on the horizon. “What is THAT on horseback?” Whispers spread throughout the palace as the figure approached, and the princess, tenderly embroidering a zebra-patterned handkerchief, scowled as she was told it was yet another suitor.

And indeed another suitor it was. A young blonde knight, riding on a majestic white stallion, arrived and proclaimed his wish to wed the princess. 

“Let them fight,” Princess Stéphane said, not even once looking up from her beloved zebra-print fabrics, already plotting her way out of this mess. 

Down in the duel ground, Prince Daisuke and Duke Keiji exchanged a look. They did not like the thought of a new threat and temporarily formed an alliance, turning their katanas to point the tip at the intruder. Three pairs of eyes met, and the young blonde knight drew his sword, the cold metal gleaming under the midday sun as the three blades clashed.

As twilight settled over the palace, the young blonde had already emerged victorious as the two dark-haired conquests were vanquished. Princess Stéphane was forced by the king and queen to meet the victor on her balcony, clearly displeased with the thought of marriage looming over her.

“Princess Stéphane,” the young knight proclaimed. “I come before you to ask for permission in taking your hand in marriage!”

“You must answer three riddles first,” the princess said coolly, “my maid will give you the questions.” She returned to her room without sparing one more glance, but a pink blush crept onto her fair skin and she rubbed her cheeks angrily, a futile attempt to deny that her heart was fluttering at the sight of the handsome knight.

To the princess’s surprise, by the time supper ended the young man had already solved her riddles correctly. “You must marry him,” the King said, the Queen nodding her approval. 

Princess Stéphane frowned as the king and queen escorted her to the balcony. “I don’t want to get married!” She yelled. “But you must,” the king said. “You promised so yourself; you must honour your words.”

Then the young knight spoke. “Your Highnesses, might I suggest something?”

“Go ahead,” said the King. The princess glared at him.

“Princess, you do not have to marry me if you can tell me my name by daybreak.”

*Princess Stéphane sends every person in the kingdom to find the name of the young blonde knight but no one succeeds*

*insert princess & knight dancing to Nessun Dorma*

*Stéphane realises she only despises the idea of being forced into submission in marriage but not marriage or love itself*

As the whole kingdom scrambled to find the knight’s true name, the princess grew visibly anxious. It was barely minutes before daybreak when she demanded: “What is your name?”

The knight smiled at Princess Stéphane’s question; he had been waiting for it the entire night. He took the princess’s hand in his own, and breathed into her blushing ears as the first ray of sunlight set foot on the land of this kingdom:

“I am Deniss Vasiljevs, Crown Prince of Ladvia, mon amour .”

*Nessun Dorma intensifies*

Princess Stéphane’s eyes widened, and she hastily pulled Deniss onto the balcony, where the entire kingdom watched and awaited their princess’s verdict.

“I have found his name,” the princess declared, and the crowd below audibly gasped.

“He is Prince Deniss of Ladvia, and I shall marry him!”

Cheers erupted from the crowd, petals rained from the heavens (?) and a bright ray of sunlight enveloped the whole palace. The young blonde prince picked up the princess in a passionate embrace, capturing her inviting lips in an ardent kiss. 

“Je t'aime, Stéphane,” Deniss whispered against her lips.

“Je t'aime” Stéphane thought, as she melted into the kiss with her beloved knight in shining armour.

And Prince Deniss and Princess Stéphane (later King Deniss and Queen Stéphane) lived happily ever after, yay! 

Chapter Text

Once upon a time, there was a pretty little girl named Shoma Uno. Her father was a rich merchant, but his mother passed away at her little brother’s (who never made it, poor soul) birth and he (very unfortunately) remarried when Shoma was six years old.

Shoma’s stepmother came in a package with two stepsisters, Yuma and Kaori, both younger than Shoma herself. They lived together peacefully for several years until one day news came of Papa Uno’s death. He was last seen at a certain village many miles away from their town, never returned and was then presumed dead. With Shoma’s stepmother inheriting everything Papa Uno had left behind, the evil woman decided to make Shoma the housemaid and forced her to do every chore for the family.

Shoma was banished to the dusty attic and often slept with dust and ashes all over her body at night. Kaori, the elder of the stepsisters, would often hide scraps of food under her skirt and bring them to a starving Shoma, and secretly leave some warm water for her to wash herself. Unfortunately, there was little else she could do to help poor Shoma, as everyone in the house was terrified by the evil stepmother. Yuma, too, would sometimes try to help Shoma with the chores when she grew tired of her books and sneaked out, but more often than not they would both get caught and a crying Yuma would be dragged away while Shoma struggled with the extra chores she was assigned (e.g. picking out green beans from yellow beans, Shoma can never tell them apart).

Years passed and Shoma grew into an unhappy young woman. With Kaori and Yuma both in their rebellious teenage years, they often angered their mother and she would lash out at Shoma instead, forcing her to do ridiculous tasks. Shoma’s step sisters would then sneak into the attic at night, sobbing out apologies and trying their best to help him. Although Shoma knew it wasn’t Kaori and Yuma’s fault, she sometimes wondered if she could somehow muster up the courage to just quit and run away from this horrible witch’s dwelling, and then promptly fall asleep before fabricating an actual runaway plan. Chronic sleep deprivation left her dozing off during every single chore, aggravating the vicious cycle of yawning -> sleepy -> dozing off -> not completing tasks -> more chores to do -> going to bed late -> not enough sleep again.

One day, the King issued an invitation to all young girls in the country to attend Prince Yuzu’s 20th birthday ball. It was the talk of the kingdom, for the prince is rumoured to be extremely handsome and in need of a bride to wed at his coming-of-age ceremony; every young female in the country dreamt of the prince falling in love with them - well, almost . Every girl except Shoma (her one true love is sleeping, thank you very much). Shoma’s evil stepmother made Shoma and some random seamstresses she hired make ball gowns for Kaori and Yuma (who both looked nearly in tears after seeing a yawning Shoma working on their dresses), and dressed them in lavish jewellery before heading off to the palace on the day of the ball. Shoma was left behind, all alone, and as the sky darkened and the moon rose, she crawled back into her messy and dusty bed sheets for yet another nap. 

Alas, Shoma was cruelly shaken awake from her deep slumber halfway through. “What?” She mumbled grumpily, upset over being woken.

“Hello Shoma! I’m your fairy godmother!” A sparkling person hovered over Shoma, shedding an excessive amount of fairy dust on the floor.

“Go away, I don’t know you,” Shoma said exasperatedly, inwardly cursing as she thought about having to sweep the fairy dust covered floor again later.

“Awwww but I’m here to help you!” The fairy bounced excitedly. “I’m Kazuki and I’m going to help you go to the ball!”

“The ball? No thank you, just let me go to sleep,” Shoma groaned, flopping back onto her makeshift bed and refusing to look at the overly shiny fairy.

“But you must go!” The fairy - or rather, Kazuki as (he? she?) said - exclaimed, and with an exaggerated wave of (his? Her? Shoma really couldn’t tell, they are sparkling way too brightly for her eyes) wand, Shoma was fully dressed and more than ready to attend the ball.

Shoma looked down onto her dress and sighed, climbing into the pumpkin carriage her fairy godmother Kazuki prepared for her, resigning to the fact that she actually had to go to the ball now. “Remember to come home before midnight!” Kazuki shouted as the carriage flew off, but Shoma had long since tuned out and never heard them.

(Actually, Shoma fell asleep on the carriage and was nudged awake by the flying horses.)

*At the ball*

“Kaori!” Yuma poked her sister in the elbow as she spotted a familiar figure by the ballroom entrance. “Is that Shoma?”

“Oh wait, yes,” Kaori laughed at how sleepy Shoma looked, even in her gorgeous gown, earning some disapproving looks from the tittering girls nearby but she could hardly care.

Queen Mao noticed the lonely Shoma lingering at the back of the ballroom. “Who is that girl? She is so cute!”

*Mao’s mother hen vibes intensifies*

“My dear people, I hereby declare that I have adopted Shoma Uno as my daughter and she will be Princess Shoma from this day onwards!” Queen Mao announced, having completely forgotten the original aim of the ball (aka finding Prince Yuzu a bride).

Cheers went up and Kaori and Yuma cried tears of joy, Kazuki dumped sparkling fairy dust on everyone’s heads, and Prince Yuzu stole the chance to snuggle his beloved Pooh-san as people stopped paying attention to him.

As the clock inched towards midnight, Kazuki renewed their magic whereas the newly crowned Princess Shoma just wanted her dream 12-hour sleep every day, which Queen Mao promised.

They (except Shoma’s evil stepmother, of course) lived happily ever after.

*Bonus*

Prince Yuzu eventually married Pooh-san (although many people disagreed that this was a valid marriage), and Princess Shoma was dressed up beautifully every day by Queen Mao herself, once she woke up from her daily 12-hour sleep that was and still is her one true love.

Chapter Text

Once upon a time, there was a mother duck who gave birth to six baby ducks. There was one particularly large egg, though, who refused to hatch until the day Mother Duck decided to give up on it.

“???” The tiny little duckling blinked at the unfamiliar world in front of him, slightly sleepy and extremely confused. His siblings poked him with their beaks out of curiosity, and little Misha buried his head into his wet feathers in fear.

“Now, now, this is your little brother, don’t scare him,” Mother duck chastised the other ducklings, who nodded and wagged their tiny tails despite not really understanding their mother. 

As the ducklings grew up though, they realised that Misha’s feathers were still an ugly shade of dust grey when their birth feathers were gradually replaced by new, longer and prettier brown feathers. They made fun of Misha, pecking him when Mother Duck wasn’t looking, deliberately stealing his food and refusing to play with him.

Misha would often wander away into the bushes, trying his best to find food for himself as he starved despite the abundance of plants in the plentiful summer. He would cry on his own, under the shelter of the tall reeds, lamenting his short but miserable life. Why was he different from the others? Why was he so ugly? What did he do to deserve this? 

*insert smol sad grey duckling Misha*

One day in the late autumn, Misha got lost in the thick undergrowth on the river banks, and couldn’t find his way back to the ducks’ nest. As night fell, the howling wind and pouring rain kept him awake, eyes wide open as he shivered from the cold and fright, and did not dare fall asleep. He remembered Mother Duck used to tell them night in the wilderness was dangerous, and the howling foxes would come and hunt them down. 

When the sun rose again in the morning, Misha emerged from his hiding place, completely soaked and utterly miserable. Lost, he wandered aimlessly along the riverbank for days, sheltering in bushes at night and drying himself in the sun at day. He eventually stumbled upon a farmhouse, and shivering in the rain under the barn’s roof, was discovered by the owner of the house, an old farmer called Mishin.

“Oh, poor little thing,” Mishin said, picking up the grey feathered creature covered in rain and mud, wiping him dry with a cloth. The old farmer’s hands were rough and calloused, but his touch was warm and gentle and Misha couldn’t hold back a drop of tear from his eyes.

“No, Rusfed, leave him alone,” Mishin told his cat sternly when it tried to attack a frightened Misha. “He is our guest for the winter.” And he was true to his word, as he made Misha stay in the farmhouse as winter closed in.

“I can’t have you killing yourself out in that cold,” Mishin said, looking at the thick cover of snow outside the window. In the short, bleak winter days, he would put Misha by the roaring fireplace, which he gladly stayed, until the old man went to bed. 

When Mishin went to bed though - which was fairly early, he was an old man after all - Rusfed would come and harass Misha, trying to scratch him with its sharp claws and growling menacingly at him. After suffering from a few painful wounds from Rusfed, Misha soon learned to find shelter in the warm chicken barn, where the cat was forbidden to set paws in. But even there he wasn’t welcomed; the perpetually angry hens often chased him away and the only place he could stay the night in was a small corner of the hay barn.

*insert Misha enduring abuse from Rusfed and angry chickens and Mishin trying his best to tend to his wounds*

Spring came. Misha saw the warm spring sun and the sprouting plants, and decided he could not stay with Mishin any longer. He thanked the old farmer, even though he knew he couldn’t understand him, and left the farmhouse in the night silently. He wondered where he could go; at times it seemed like there was no place in the entire world for him and he was just a reject everywhere he went.

Disheartened, Misha’s legs brought him back to the river where he was born. He could feel the changes in his own body - he has grown larger, heavier, standing a bit taller (for the tall reeds look much shorter now) than he was when he left the river. Yet despite all this he was still shunned by others, and now he had no idea what he should do with his life.

A flock of swans swooped in and landed in the river. Their elegant necks and majestic wings in the air left Misha speechless, and deciding that he would rather be killed by the birds he admired than continue living his miserably lonely life, Misha flapped his wings and clumsily stumbled towards the swans. He closed his eyes and made a timid noise, slightly scared of the sharp pain of their beaks on his body but resigned to his fate.

To Misha’s surprise, the pain never came and he blinked in confusion. The swans surrounded him, rubbing their necks against his feathers affectionately and Misha looked down into the clear water in bewilderment. His reflection left him speechless; he looked exactly the same as the other swans.

Misha: wtf?

Anyway, yes, Misha is a beautiful, graceful, majestic swan and he lived happily ever after with his newfound swan family.

Chapter Text

Once upon a time, it was rumoured that in a kingdom far away, there lived a beautiful princess with dazzling golden hair trapped in a tower by an evil witch.

“Ridiculous! This is completely bullshit!” The ‘evil witch’ Diana - no, she is a sorceress NOT A WITCH - exclaimed in a fury, destroying some of her potion glasses.

“Calm down Diana,” The ‘beautiful princess’ said, calmly piecing together Diana’s potions and reverting them to their original state, as if he had turned back time (he actually did). “This is necessary for our plan.”

“Well, that is your plan, Deniss, not mine,” Diana rolled her eyes. “Anyway thanks.”

“Anytime. So, when are you going to turn Stéphane into a robin?” The young blonde man asked.

“Impatient. Probably tonight, I guess, I need a deadly silent night for cover.”

“Gotcha, you’ll get your deadly silent night tonight.”

*insert sinister music*

The next day, news broke from the Kingdom of Sweetserland that Prince Stéphane has been turned into a robin by a vengeful sorceress, due to some shady debt his parents never repaid to the sorceress. 

“Good job Diana, here’s a treat for you. I still owe you one though.” Deniss casually conjured up a golden thread and tossed it to Diana.

“You know what? Just make me the goddess of sorcery and I’ll be happy.” Diana caught the golden thread and stroked it lovingly (shut up, she was going to use it to make a magic armour/dress for herself with it).

“Aha you’re greedy, but sure. After I marry Stéphane.”

“Do your people know you’re such an evil scheming god, ye king of all gods, o god of the Sun? I wonder what Stéphane will think about you when he finds out all of this.”

“Well, he’ll never need to know,” Deniss shrugged, “At least the bit about why he became a robin.”

Diana sighed in exasperation. “Honestly, I have no idea why I’m still here helping you.”

“Because you want immortality? And I’m the only one who can help you with that.” Deniss smiled smugly, amused by Diana’s reactions.

*insert cute lil robin Stéph*

“Hello little guy, you’re cute,” The blond prince (prince!!?? Not princess??) imprisoned at the top of the castle tower stroked Robin Stéphane’s feathers gently. Stéphane chirped happily at his gentle touch, and snuggled into the prince’s warm palms.

“You must be hungry,” Deniss wondered, and produced a handful of corn kernels out of nowhere. Robin Stéphane was indeed quite hungry, for he really didn’t want to eat insects but couldn’t find other edible food either. He quickly gobbled up the food, and watched as the blonde prince went about his daily routine.

Which was basically combing his hair (that almost reached the floor) -> tying it into a ponytail -> eating breakfast -> studying books in a language Stéphane couldn’t recognise (Deniss said it’s about sorcery and witchcraft) -> eating -> making pies -> eating -> more reading -> go to sleep. 

It was predictable, boring even, after a few days of observation, but Robin Stéphane just couldn’t tear his eyes away from the handsome prince and his absolutely glorious golden hair that he swore literally glowed in the sunlight. Every time Deniss’s gaze fell on him, it was as if nothing else in the world existed beside themselves, and Robin Stéphane could feel a blush rising to his cheeks (although thank goodness no one could tell, he had never felt so glad his feathers were long enough to cover his blush).

The way they wasted away afternoons to Deniss’s random sorcery experiments, the way he touched his tiny bird’s body gently and affectionately, the way he looked at him as if he was his entire world - Stéphane could feel himself longing for Deniss more and more every day. He grew so attached to the prince that he returned to the tower day after day, sometimes even staying the night while hiding in the unused fireplace in the bedroom. On a bright summer’s morning, Robin Stéphane overslept and was caught red-handed.

“Hmmm? What’s this cute little robin doing here?” Deniss plucked the sleepy Robin Stéphane from his hiding place by the fireplace, a teasing smile on his distractingly handsome face. Robin Stéphane protested weakly with a meek chirp, pouting as Deniss poked him lightly, earning him a laugh from the blond man.

“Anyway…I’ve been thinking, little robin. Can a true love’s kiss really break curses?” Deniss wondered aloud, pointedly flipping through an ancient-looking, thick book. “How does the curse detect true love? What if they were fed a love potion instead?”

Hearing that reminded Stéphane of something - of course, he didn’t use to be a robin all his life (although he would never admit that he almost forgot). He had been cursed to be trapped in a tiny robin’s body by a sorceress; what if? What if a true love’s kiss could free him from this curse?

Robin Stéphane bounced around agitatedly all morning, trying hard to find a chance to leave a small kiss (...or peck) on his love’s face. His chance came when Deniss finally settled down for his sorcery reading session a few hours later, and he flapped his wings and desperately -

Stéphane’s tiny beak came into contact with Deniss’s cheeks, and - POOF (with the added dramatic effect of a large ball of white smoke) - 

“??? - !!!” Stéphane regained human form (albeit very naked) with a true love’s kiss. But he soon realised a problem: without his wings, both of them were, apparently, stuck in the tower. “Wait - how are we supposed to get out now???” 

“Oh, don’t worry mon amour , this entire place is mine.

“What???????????”

And they lived happily ever after, until the end of time.

(Literally. Because they are both gods now and gods are immortal.)

Oh and don’t worry, Diana got her immortality too.

*Bonus scene:

“Deniss, my clothes are starting to get tighter around my waist…am I getting too fat should I stop eating so much sweets but I really love your pies what should I do - !”

“Oh, there’s no need to panic, mon amour …you’re just pregnant!”

“WHAT? HOW??? I’m a man???? And don’t have a - whatever that’s called?? Deniss, please explain?”

“Oh Stéph, gods transcend the limitations of the mortal body.”

“So…I am pregnant? How?”

“What we did yesterday night. Or do you want a demonstration again?”

“Aaaaah - please, not now.”

“But tonight?”

“Y-yeah…will our children be gods then?”

“Of course!”

Ten months later, Stéphane gave birth to a pair of baby boys.

And they lived happily ever after.

(Real) THE END.

Chapter Text

Once upon a time, in a kingdom with magic and fairies, a cute little princess was born.

Queen Evgenia invited everyone in her kingdom to a banquet celebrating Princess Kamila’s birth. The 3A fairies, the most powerful group of fairies in the entire Kingdom of Sambo, came to give the baby princess blessings.

The fairy in the red dress, Alexandra (Sasha), gave her blessing first. “I bestow upon you the gift of wisdom, strength and goodness,” she said, waving her flaming fairy wand.

The fairy in the white dress, Anna, gave the second blessing. “I bestow upon you the gift of beauty, grace and song,” she said, waving her silvery fairy wand.

Then something crashed at the entrance to the banquet hall, making a terrible noise and the guests screamed at the sight of the looming figure.

It was the evil Eteri, notorious in the kingdom for her hatred of young girls. The evil fairy, dressed in a sinister long black cape, stormed into the hall with creepy green smoke emanating from her body. “Why am I not invited?” She thundered.

No one could answer her.

Eteri cackled evilly. “I shall give the precious princess a gift as well,” she said, pointing a deformed finger at the baby girl. “I bestow upon the Princess Kamila a curse - on the day of her 15th birthday, she shall prick her finger on a spinning spindle wheel and die!”

And with that, Eteri disappeared in a whiff of green smoke, leaving behind only the echoes of her evil laughter and a terrified Queen Evgenia.

“Please, save my daughter,” she begged. But the 3A fairies could do nothing about the curse; they weren’t powerful enough to reverse it.

“I will try my best,” the fairy in the purple dress, Aliona, who was the only one yet to give the princess a gift said. “I bestow upon you the gift of protection - you shall fall into a deep slumber lasting 100 years when you prick your finger on the spindle wheel, and be awoken by a true love’s kiss.

Queen Evgenia ordered all spindle wheels be banned in the kingdom, and that they must be destroyed by fire by daybreak. Fifteen years passed, and despite the Queen’s best efforts to protect her daughter, Princess Kamila wandered into an unused attic and (unfortunately) pricked her finger on the forgotten spindle wheel.

Queen Evgenia fell into despair, while the fairies constructed a safe cocoon for the sleeping princess, worried that Eteri’s curse would overpower their gifts of blessings. 

“I will personally go and kill that evil old hag,” Sasha said fiercely, and Anna struggled to hold her back. “No, Sasha, she is too strong for us, you’ll only get yourself killed.”

“Poor Kamila,” Aliona sighed, as she stroked the sleeping beauty’s soft hair gently.

The fairies brought the sleeping princess into a castle in the woods, hidden by tall trees and lush plants. A hundred years passed, and still there was no sign of a passing prince.

“I’m worried,” Aliona said, “what if my blessing didn’t work?” 

“It will be fine,” Anna reassured her. Sasha was nowhere to be seen, probably off to find the hiding Eteri for a fight.

Days ticked by and the 100th year was close to the end. There was still no sign of a prince, and Princess Kamila showed no sign of waking up. Aliona and Anna’s anxiety heightened, until Sasha returned, slightly bruised and dress battered, but with bright eyes.

“A true love’s kiss doesn’t have to be from a prince!” Sasha declared, and proceeded to press a chaste kiss to Kamila’s forehead. Aliona and Anna gasped at Sasha’s bold move, but cried tears of joy as Kamila’s eyes slowly opened and she blinked confusingly.

“We did it!” The 3A fairies got into a tight group hug in celebration.

“Now, I found more fairies in hiding who all have a grudge against Eteri,” Sasha said, “Who wants to come with me and declare war on that evil old hag?”

They set off at daybreak, leaving a very confused Kamila in the care of an equally confused young aristocrat who simply happened to pass by the woods on horseback. 

They lived happily ever after (maybe?), except Eteri who was now imprisoned by the fairies & co.

Chapter Text

Once upon a time, in a kingdom full of magic and fairies, a cute little prince was born.

King Yuzu and Queen Mao were overjoyed and invited the entire Kingdom of Jaran to the banquet celebrating Prince Shoma’s birth. Seven of the kingdom’s most powerful fairies came, each with a blessing to give to the little prince

The fairy in the orange dress, Wakaba, gave her blessing first. “Prince Shoma, I bestow upon you the gift of music,” she said.

Next was the fairy in a yellow shirt. “Prince Shoma, I bestow upon you the gift of dance,” Kazuki said, waving his wand and sending a spark of twinkling fairy dust shooting into the sky.

Then it was the fairy in the purple dress. “Prince Shoma, I bestow upon you the gift of great joy,” Kaori said, laughing merrily as she waved her wand.

“Prince Shoma, I bestow upon you the gift of beauty,” Mai, the small fairy in the sky blue dress said softly.

“Prince Shoma!” The fairy in a white shirt said, “I bestow upon you the gift of grace.” Koshiro flew around the young prince’s cot in graceful circles.

Then it was Yuma’s turn. “Prince Shoma, I bestow upon you the gift of wisdom and strength,” the fairy in the black shirt said.

Just as the last fairy was about to give her blessing, a loud crash sounded and a looming figure appeared at the entrance of the banquet hall. The hall descended into chaos as guests screamed and fled, and the fairies huddled together in fear.

“My name is Javi,” the man in the black cape proclaimed. “I am extremely disappointed that I was not invited to this banquet. King Yuzu, I will never forgive you for leaving me behind,” he continued, pointing a deformed finger at the King who was biting his lips (in guilt?)

“I have come with a gift for the prince as well,” Javi declared. “When Prince Shoma reaches the age of sixteen, he shall prick his finger on a spindle wheel and die!” He cackled evilly and left the hall in a swift motion, leaving behind only the echoes of his sinister laughter and visibly terrified fairies and Queen Mao.

“Please, save my son,” Queen Mao begged, but the fairies hung their heads. “He is too powerful,” they said.

The last fairy who had yet to give her blessing spoke up. “I may not be able to reverse the curse, but I have an idea,” she said, smoothing out her turquoise dress. (“This is chaos,” she muttered under her breath.)

“Prince Shoma,” she said, “Instead of dying, you will fall into a deep sleep that can only be awoken by a true love’s kiss.”

The King and Queen pleaded with the fairies to bring the young prince to live with them in the woods, to which they agreed. Every single spindle wheel was promptly destroyed, and they were outlawed in the entire kingdom.

“Wakey wakey,” Kazuki called, zooming into Shoma’s bedroom. The young prince had grown into a young man, still as cute as ever, but he always had sleeping problems - or rather, waking up issues, that the fairies attributed to as a possible side-effect of Satton’s final blessing to him.

Shoma groaned in his sleep, turned on his back but showed no sign of waking. “Wake up~” Kaori called as well, pushing and pulling Shoma’s cheeks to make weird faces. 

“Oh well, it’s time for Emma then!” Koshiro concluded cheerfully, and with a wave of his wand an overexcited bouncy ball of toy poodle appeared, pouncing onto Shoma’s sleeping form and promptly started to lick him.

“Emma~morning…” Shoma blinked sleepily, digging his fingers into his beloved puppy’s thick curls and messing up her fur. Always so effective.

Then Shoma’s 16th birthday came. The fairies hovered around him the entire day anxiously, trying their best to make sure that Shoma would not prick his fingers on a spindle wheel (that somehow survived the King’s aggressive decimation of the entire species). Night fell and Shoma took to bed (he needed 12-hour sleep every day) and the fairies let their guard down, heading to bed as well, naively believing that no harm would come Shoma’s way.

Unfortunately, Emma woke Shoma up in the dead of the night, leading him to - gasp - an abandoned spindle wheel. Curious, he reached out to touch the spinning needle and instantly fell into a deep sleep.

Emma barked and yelped sharply as her favourite human collapsed, realising that she must have got into trouble. Hearing Emma’s distressed calls, the fairies scrambled out of bed to discover Shoma lying unconscious in the woods next to a spindle wheel.

“Who the fuck left this stupid thing here?” Satton asked angrily to the other bewildered fairies. They had never seen it; it could only have been a cruel twist of fate. “Never mind,” she sighed, and the seven fairies silently laid the sleeping beauty onto his bed, with Emma watching over him with sad eyes.

The next morning, Emma pounced onto Shoma’s unmoving, sleeping figure as usual, planting puppy kisses all over his face (aka licking Shoma). The fairies looked on in misery, knowing that Emma’s efforts to wake Shoma would be fruitless - 

“Mmmmm…stop it Emma…” Shoma mumbled, ruffling Emma’s coat sleepily as usual. He blinked, propping himself up agonisingly slowly, completely oblivious to what had happened to himself the night before and to the fairies’ disbelief stares.

“Wait, what?” Yuma frowned; he didn’t understand. “How?”

“Emma must be Shoma’s true love!” Kaori exclaimed, clapping delightedly. The others nodded vigorously, voicing their agreement.

And the fairies, Shoma and his dog Emma, lived happily ever after in the forest.

Chapter Text

Once upon a time, in a magical kingdom far far away, there was a prince who fell under an evil curse nearly a hundred years ago.

The prince was only known as the sleeping beauty; his true name had long been lost to the tides of time. His country, the kingdom of Sweetserland, had fallen into disarray after his parents passed without a legitimate heir, but their enchanted castle withstood the test of time and trials of war. 

The three fairies who gave their blessings to the newly born prince grew desperate as time passed and the 100 years inched to an end. If the prince was not woken by the end of the 100th year, he would really die and there was no turning back this time. They posted a notice at the foot of the castle, saying that the Sleeping Beauty can only be awakened by a true love’s kiss, and anyone who sees the notice is welcome to try.

(Under the watch of the fairies, of course, they had to make sure Sleeping Beauty won’t get killed or something, and that people were only allowed to kiss his hand. NOT his lips, no, who made that shit up?!)

One beautiful, clear, autumn’s day, a prince passed by on horseback through the woods that now surrounded the ancient Sweetserland Castle. On the way home from a diplomatic trip, he, of course, had also heard about the legend of the Sleeping Beauty. Intrigued by the tale, the prince decided to take the longer route home to come and have a look for himself. (He was mainly more interested in the fairies and magic and all, because few people in his kingdom could do magic at all.)

“Your name, please,” The fairy at the entrance asked in a monotone - she had obviously been screening people for longer than she wanted - “And where you hail from.”

“I am Prince Deniss from the Kingdom of Ladvia,” the young prince said.

“Alright, there you go,” With a quick wave of her wand, Deniss was transported to the chambers where Sleeping Beauty laid for the last hundred years.

He barely had time to marvel at the incredible convenience of magic before his breath caught at the sight of the Sleeping Beauty.

*insert description of how beautiful sleeping beauty is* (brain got tired sorry)

Deniss kneeled and held the sleeping prince’s hand in his own tenderly. His lips brushed across the prince’s fair skin, leaving a light kiss.

“?” The Sleeping Beauty’s eyelids fluttered, and he slowly opened his eyes.

“Oh damn we made it,” the fairy at the side commented, disappearing into a puff of white smoke, presumably to tell her companions of the good news.

The Sleeping Beauty smiled at the sight of the handsome man by his bed - he did not have amnesia, he still remembered the thing about his curse and the true love’s kiss etc. - being awake it must mean he is my true love, he thought.

“I am Prince Stéphane Lambiel of the Kingdom of Sweetserland,” he said awkwardly, a blush crawling onto his cheeks. “May I know your name?”

“I am Prince Deniss Vasiljevs of the Kingdom of Ladvia,” the young blonde prince smiled. “May I…ask for your hand in marriage?”

Stéphane literally grinned as he tried to reach up for a kiss. “Of course!”

And Prince Deniss took Stéphane back to the Kingdom of Ladvia, where they married and lived happily ever after.

Chapter Text

Once upon a time, there was a prince named Javier in the Kingdom of Spania. He wanted to marry a princess, but he found fault in all the princesses who came at the King and Queen’s request. 

Prince Javi didn’t want to marry any of them; they were either too short, too stupid, too obnoxious or too snobbish. But there were no more princesses (well, those who wanted to or needed to get married anyway) left, and Prince Javi grew sad with each passing day.

One stormy night in the summer, there was a knock on the castle gates. A young girl stood outside, drenched in the pouring rain, begging for a shelter to spend the night. She claimed to be a princess too, but in truth her soaking clothes and lack of proper shoes made her claim a bit suspicious.

Nonetheless, Prince Javi invited her in and decided to set up a test for the young woman, whose name was Yuzu. He ordered the servants to place a single pea on the bed, then cover it with 20 layers of mattresses and 5 layers of bedsheets. If Yuzu was indeed a princess, then she must be sensitive enough to realise there was a pea beneath her bed.

The next morning, the prince asked if Yuzu had a nice rest. “No,” she whined, “I almost couldn’t sleep at all! There was something hard in my bed, it kept me awake the entire night and I’m pretty sure I’m bruised by it.”

Sure enough, the maids reported that Yuzu indeed had a small bruise on her back that matched where the pea was placed in her bed. Prince Javi was overjoyed, for only a true princess would have felt the tiny pea under 20 mattresses, therefore Yuzu must be a princess!

Prince Javi and Princess Yuzu were married and they lived happily ever after. THE pea went on display at the Royal Museum and you can still see it there, unless - 

“JUN! How many times have I told you that you can NOT eat the pea and it’s not edible anyway!!!”

Chapter Text

Once upon a time, in the icy wastelands of the North, there lay a kingdom named Siberia.

In the Kingdom of Siberia, there was a young couple named Mark and Artur. Artur’s father was unhappy with their relationship, and demanded that Artur must marry another man, or be killed.

Fearing for their lives, Mark and Artur decided to elope and fled into the frozen forest in a midwinter’s night. Cold and hungry, they stumbled upon an abandoned hunter’s hut in a small clearing, and lit a small fire as the blizzard roared and the winds pounded onto the rattling windows.

Little did they know, however, that two other men were in pursuit of them. Not Artur’s father himself, he was too physically unwell to go into the frozen wilderness in the middle of the harsh winters; it was Andrei, Artur’s friend who he told about his escape plan and Evgeni, who was informed of the mess because of a (very unfortunately) slip-up by Andrei, and who so happened to be the man Artur’s father wanted him to marry.

“Zhenya, where are you going?”

“Into the woods,” Evgeni said, a frown upon his face. “And find those stupid bastards.” He angrily packed a bag and headed into the freezing forest, with Andrei trailing behind. 

For Andrei was hopelessly in love with Evgeni, who never responded to his confessions, and he was anxious to learn that Artur’s dad wanted his son to marry Evgeni (he thought Evgeni liked Artur too). On the other hand, Evgeni actually really just wanted to make sure those two dumbass lovebirds don’t freeze to their deaths in the cold Siberian forest, right in the middle of winter.

But the forest was huge, and without knowledge of which direction they went, night quickly fell and Evgeni set up a small camp for the evening. As the four men in the forest slept - Mark and Artur huddled around the fireplace in the hut, Andrei rubbing his hands together and curled up into his sleeping bag, and Evgeni dozing off by the fire when he was supposed to be on watch guard - something dark and sinister (or not) emerged from the shadows of the forest.

“Aha! What do we have here?” It was a spirit called Misha, known for his mischiefs on the unfortunate passerbys in the forest. He pulled out a tiny vial containing a deep violet liquid, made from the juices of a magical flower called “love me, love me not”, and poured a few drops onto the eyelids of all four Siberian men, all the while snickering and laughing merrily. The purple juices of the flower would make the person it was applied to fall in love with the first person he saw when he woke up, but its effects may or may not work - and there was no way to predict whether it would or not. (Essentially a Russian roulette.)

As the Sun rose, chaos reigned in the forest. Andrei was the first to wake up from a restless sleep, only falling further in love with Evgeni, who was half asleep and half awake. He headed deeper in the forest, in hopes of finding his friend Artur and Mark - he indeed eventually found Artur, alone and asleep, in the hunter’s house.

“Wake up!” Andrei hissed, frantically shaking Artur awake, meaning to apologise to him for failing to keep their escape plan a secret, and warning him of the potential dangers now that Evgeni was in search of them as well.

“Hmm?” Artur blinked and woke up, and the unfortunate effects of the love potion planted by Misha kicked in. Artur fell in love with Andrei and proclaimed his love for the poor, confused man, who panicked and bolted off like a frightened deer, running back towards Evgeni’s camp with Artur in tow.

On the other side of the forest, Mark, equipped with an old hunter rifle he took from the house, was out hunting for food - even a small hare would be a nice hearty meal to their empty stomachs. It so happened that he came across Evgeni’s camp and set eyes on him - 

(don’t ask me why Mark didn’t see Artur when he first woke up, and why Zhenya happened to be the only sane person unaffected by the flower juices)

“Zhenya, run through fire I will for thy sweet sake!”

“What the fuck? You kidding me?”

“No I’m serious! I love you Zhenya!”

Evgeni sighed. “Mark, sit down, you’re getting delirious,” he said, shoving Mark into a sitting position on the thick, snow-blanketed forest floor. “Think about Artur, he’d be heartbroken to hear that.”

“Artur? I don’t care about him,” The dark-haired man declared while wrestling with Zhenya for his hunting rifle. “I only have eyes for you!”

Figuring there was no point in arguing with him, Zhenya shook his head tiredly. “You need the cold to get some sense into your dumbass brain.” He tied up an obedient Mark and left him in the snow, heading off into the forest instead in search of his missing companion, Andrei.

Meanwhile, Andrei was terrified as Artur continued to proclaim his newfound, undying love for Andrei.

“Wherefore was I to this keen mockery born? What at your hands did I deserve this scorn?” Andrei cried into the freezing cold air, puffing and panting from running. “What have I done to you, my dear friend? I apologise for failing to keep your secret, but why do you pull such a cruel joke on me?”

“Oh but I do love you so much, Andrei!” Artur declared. “Will you not so much as set eyes on me?” 

“Artur please! Are you not content with your sweet love with Mark? And yet I do not deserve even a look from Zhenya!” Andrei lamented, collapsing onto the soft snowy floor, out of breath.

“Andrei?” Just then, Evgeni appeared from behind a tree, rifle in hand, startling both men.

“Zhenya!” Andrei exclaimed, relieved to see a person who still vaguely seemed to be sane. Artur noticed the way his face lit up at the sight of Evgeni, and was consumed by an inexplicable rush of jealousy.

“What is there to Evgeni that you love?” He demanded. “Am I not fair? Am I not-”

“There you go, another one gone insane,” Zhenya interrupted, sighing exasperatedly. “What is it about this forest that drives people mad?” He kicked the ground in frustration.

“Love looks not with the eyes, but with the mind,” Andrei sobbed. “And therefore winged Cupid is painted blind.”

“Oh no, not you too,” Zhenya groaned. “Am I the only sane person around? Come on, let’s go.” He started hauling the two men back towards his camp, both crying and arguing.

When they returned, the four men were finally reunited by the campfire. “So. Anyone care to explain this shit?” Evgeni asked. The three men remained silent, merely glaring at one another.

“Let’s start with you.” Evgeni looked at Mark, who had already freed himself from the hastily tied ropes around his arms. “Are you not lovers with Artur? What happened?”

“Artur?” The dark-haired man scoffed. “Evgeni, keep thy Artur, I will none; if ever I have loved him, all that love is gone.”

“Well sorry, I don’t want your love,” Artur spat, turning away from Mark. “Andrei, my love, to what shall I compare thee?”

Andrei shot a panicked look at Zhenya, eyes wide in bewilderment. Zhenya rubbed his forehead and really didn’t want to know how he had gotten himself into this shit. “First things first, not my Artur, I don’t like him.” Everyone raised an eyebrow and he frowned. “What? I came here because I don’t want you dumbasses freezing to death.” 

Andrei exhaled and was visibly relieved, while the other two men continued glaring daggers at, well, someone - Mark at Andrei, and Artur and Zhenya.

“And secondly, this is fucked up. Artur, what happened to you?”

Truth to be told, Artur didn’t know either but he was so enamoured with the fair-skinned Andrei that he directed all his frustration towards Zhenya. “I don’t fucking know, okay? That guy -” he looked at Mark - “has nothing that can compare with Andrei.”

Andrei started tearing up again. “This is a cruel joke,” he sniffed. “What have I done to deserve this?”

“Ugh.” Evgeni wanted to slam his head against something as the scene descended into chaos once more and the three men started throwing out different obscenities at each other. This forest must be cursed, let’s get out of here, he thought, and started packing up and planning a route home.

The next morning, Zhenya woke up to the sound of arguing voices - they were at it again.

“The course of true love never did run smooth,” Mark shouted.

“But love can never be forced,” Andrei retaliated in the loudest voice he could manage.

“Andrei, my love, my life, my fair Andrei!”

Evgeni could feel a pounding headache growing within his head. “SHUT THE FUCK UP FOR A SECOND WILL YOU?” 

His outburst silenced the three men engaged in a heated argument in an instant. “Listen, let’s go home, this forest is cursed.”

They set off at noon, but halfway through their trek they were hit by a snowstorm. Blinded by the fierce winds and thick snow, all were separated and fell asleep.

The blizzard, magically created, died down once the men lost consciousness. “Oops,” Misha appeared out of thin air, riding on a broomstick, laughing hysterically at the men’s dishevelled state. He enjoyed the madness while it lasted, but unfortunately his teacher asked him to reverse the spell with an anecdote potion. With great regret, he spread the potion on the eyelids of the three men (Zhenya was the lucky one, it seemed, to have been spared from the effects of the flower juices), which would restore them to normal once they woke up.

“Thanks for the fun haha!” Misha giggled as he finished the job, scratching his own hair in satisfaction. He took off, doing several somersaults in the air, thin fairy wings briefly shimmering in the bright winter sun, and disappeared in the frosty skies.

“Mark? Where are you?” Artur awoke with a start, a strange sense of hollowness gripping his heart. “I’m here,” Mark responded sleepily, snuggling closer to the warmth of his boyfriend. “What happened?”

“I - oh…I don’t really know,” Artur rubbed his eyes, trying hard to dig his memories out but they had become way too blurry. “I feel like I’ve had a dream?”

“Me too,” Mark said, but neither could remember what it was. “We must’ve had a nice sleep though!”

“Get your lazy asses off the ground and let’s go home,” Evgeni was extremely unamused and was the only one who actually remembered what had happened, although he swore to himself that he would never, ever speak of the atrocities again. Truth to be told, he was just a little bit envious of them having lost their memories.

They returned home and Evgeni threatened Artur’s father to allow Artur to marry Mark. They eventually did, and lived happily ever after.

(Poor Andrei though, Evgeni still didn’t realise he loved him.)

Chapter Text

Once upon a time, there was a beautiful prince named Mark in a kingdom far away. 

One day, however, Rusfed, an evil sorcerer, foreseen that his own death would be related to Prince Mark. Fearing his death, Rusfed decided that his evil agenda still needed a long time to complete and he set off in search of Mark, eventually casting a curse over the prince which turned him into a beautiful white swan. Rusfed’s curse was slightly incomplete though, and as a result, Prince Mark would temporarily regain human form under moonlight, until the sun rose again at daybreak.

Many years passed. In a neighbouring kingdom, Prince Artur was celebrating his birthday at a party, but the Queen insisted that he must choose to marry someone at the royal ball to be held the next day. Prince Artur lamented over the fact that he could not marry someone he loves, and proceeded to withdraw into brooding sadness. His friend, Andrei, tried to cheer him up, suggesting that they go out on a hunt.

Still sulking, Prince Artur agreed to Andrei’s suggestion and they set off with crossbows in pursuit of a flock of swans. As they reached a serene lake deep in the forest, the swans landed and Prince Artur pulled his bow, taking aim at the biggest and most beautiful swan.

He dropped his bow in shock as the swan transformed into a human under the silvery moonlight. “Who are you?” the prince asked dreamily, as if in a trance.

“My name is Mark, I used to be the prince of the kingdom of Siberia,” the dark-haired man said. “I was cursed by an evil sorcerer to be a swan by day and only human in moonlight,” he added, explaining his transformation.

“Is there a way to break the curse, fair maiden?” 

Mark shook his head forlornly. “There is one, but not very realistic: if a person who has never loved before swears to love me only, the spell can be broken.”

The prince’s expression visibly brightened. “I shall -”

He was interrupted by a strong gust of wind. An owl-like creature appeared, levitating above the middle of the lake, and drew a wand-like object from within his feathers.

“That’s Rusfed, the evil sorcerer,” Mark whispered in Artur’s ears, having somehow made his way to hiding behind the prince. Anger rose in Artur and he drew his sword in a fury. “Ye evil creature! I shall vanquish you this day!”

Surprisingly, Mark tried to hold back the enraged prince, wrapping his arms around him. “No, please don’t kill Rusfed,” he pleaded, “If Rusfed dies, the spell can never be broken.” 

The evil sorcerer cackled, as if to taunt the prince’s inability to break his curse, before disappearing into the darkness once more, leaving behind only the echoes of his evil laughter.

“Don’t worry Mark, I shall be the one to break your curse,” Prince Artur vowed, “I swear to love you and you only forever!” 

Mark nodded tearfully, giving the prince a tight hug before walking into the lake. The moon was sinking fast and only a few minutes remained before it completely disappeared below the horizon. “I must go,” he said, as his arms began transforming into majestic white wings. Prince Artur watched in silence, completely lovestruck, as the beautiful man slowly morphed into a swan, staring at the graceful creature as it flapped its wings and soundlessly moved across the water.

What both of them never noticed, though, was a dark shadow that had been lurking behind the trees for as long as they had been conversing, piercing eyes fixed on them.

*insert ominous music*

The next evening, a lavish ball was thrown in celebration of Prince Artur’s birthday. The Queen arranged for several princesses to attend the ball, pressurising her son to choose to marry one of them, but Artur barely spared a glance to the women desperate for his attention. Having already fallen in love with Mark, the idea of marrying someone other than the one he loves disgusted him to no end - it was sickening and just plain wrong .

A guest, whose name he had never heard of, arrived late and had quite an entrance (most of the other guests shot discreet disapproving looks at him). Uninterested, the prince was about to find his way out when the person following the masked man looked surprisingly familiar - 

Artur’s heart skipped a beat as he realised that it was Mark. He didn’t even allow his brain a second to ponder on how on earth Mark managed to come to the ball and in human form too; his legs had already carried him into a short sprint across the dance floor, and he extended one hand in invitation: “May I have the pleasure of having your first dance?” 

“Of course,” the breathtakingly handsome man replied, his eyes sparkling wondrously under the bright lights of the chandeliers, and the prince’s heart soared. The orchestra began a slow waltz, and Artur led Mark into the dance floor, pulling him into a close embrace with one arm around his waist.

Drowning in the warm fuzzy feeling of love, Prince Artur was completely oblivious of a very suspicious exchange. As they danced, moving across the dance floor, a lonely figure stood in the royal gardens, desperately knocking on the glass windows but no one at the party picked up the minute noise. “Mark” heard it though, and seeing the desperate expression on the person with identical features as him, his lips lifted just the tiniest bit, curling into a devilish smirk as his eyes glinted maliciously. 

The true Mark slammed his fist against the glass window, with even more force, but his efforts were futile. No one except the fake Mark noticed him, and the prince was absolutely swept away that he did not even blink twice at the imposter’s dark smile.

*insert dancing times*

At the end of the ball, the Queen demanded her son choose a bride. “I only have eyes for him,” Prince Artur proclaimed, clutching “Mark’s” hand in a tight grasp. “I will marry my love!”

Everyone in the ballroom froze and Rusfed appeared in the crowd, cackling in a hoarse voice. “Dear Prince, love has blinded you,” the evil sorcerer mocked, as he reversed his spell and revealed that Artur had not been dancing with the real Mark the entire time - instead it had been Evgeni, Rusfed’s son, shrouded in the illusion of Rusfed’s spell that made him appear as Mark.

Horrified at the realisation of his terrible mistake, Prince Artur rushes out of the palace to the lake where he had first met Mark. He found Mark sitting alone by the lake, gazing melancholically into the beautiful moonlight, and he fell to his knees, sobbing uncontrollably.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” he repeated, over and over. “I’m so sorry, I love you, Mark,” the prince cried miserably.

Mark bit his lip and shook his head. “It’s too late,” he sighed. “It’s too late.” 

“I’m sorry, please forgive me,” Artur pleaded, but Mark only shook his head again. “There is nothing to forgive, Artur,” he said quietly, his calm voice breaking the prince’s heart.

Rusfed appeared again by the lakeshore. “Oh, look how dumb the prince is! Now my curse can never be broken,” his wicked laughter echoed in the forest as he morphed into a hideous owl-like creature. 

Infuriated at being tricked by Rusfed’s illusion, Prince Artur drew his sword. “You shall be met with my wrath, o vile creature!”

Prince Artur engaged in a bitter battle with Rusfed, but as a mere mortal, Rusfed’s supernatural powers proved superior to even the prince’s outstanding sword skills. Artur lay on the grass, eyes shut, dying as his laborious breathing became shallower and shallower until it was no longer. Rusfed grabbed Mark by his hair and attempted to transform him back into a swan -

Another man appeared seemingly out of nowhere, and Rusfed froze in his tracks. “Evgeni?” He sounded genuinely surprised. “What are you doing here? Go home, my son.”

“Your son? Don’t be ridiculous,” Evgeni sneered. “ You , of all people, should remember my true identity.” 

Rusfed’s grotesquely large eyes grew even wider. “But -”

“No buts,” Evgeni said, “Rusfed, you shall die.” He commanded.

A freezing wind picked up and grew into a howling storm surrounding the lake. Rusfed barely had a second to splutter a protest before he was thrown violently into the water, and a vortex as dark as the infinite depths of hell appeared in the centre of the lake, sucking everything in its path into the bottomless void.

“What- who are you?” Mark whispered, stunned by what he had just witnessed.

“I am Evgeni Semenenko, my love - call me Zhenya,” The tall man reached out and lifted Mark’s chin with two fingers. Mark looked up fearfully into the man’s dark, piercing eyes, and froze in terror as he realised he had seen these eyes before - the person who had fooled everyone into thinking he was him.

“What do you want?” Mark swallowed nervously.

“Nothing and everything,” Evgeni said, his fingers releasing Mark’s chin and making their way upwards. “Tell me - where else did he touch you?” He asked, rubbing Mark’s hair forcefully, as if to rid it of the horrid scent Rusfed’s deformed claws had left on his curls. 

Mark shook his head. “Nowhere,” he answered timidly. 

Evgeni pulled him into a crushing embrace, arm resting on his waist, and sighed in contentment. Mark could hear Evgeni’s strong heartbeat under his rib cage, could feel the burning, searing love Zhenya had for him in his warm touch, despite his cold skin. For once, strangely enough, he had never felt so safe and loved before being held in this man’s arms. 

“Mark, my love,” Zhenya said, running his fingers through Mark’s hair tenderly yet possessively. “You are mine.” He narrowed his eyes in satisfaction, lips curling into a dangerous smile. Mark made a small whimpering noise as Zhenya attacked his neck with hungry kisses, but willingly allowed himself to be carried away by the devil’s incarnate to their final destination, wherever that may be.

Chapter Text

Once upon a time, in a kingdom far away, a queen gave birth to a beautiful baby boy. He had skin as fair as snow, lips as red as blood and hair as dark as ebony, but the queen sadly died in childbirth.

Years later, the king married a young woman named Eteri. She was beautiful but vain, and had the heart of a poisonous snake. Queen Eteri had an enchanted mirror that never lied; every night she would ask the mirror who was the most beautiful and she was always satisfied to hear the mirror’s answer that she was the fairest.

One day, years later, Queen Eteri asked her mirror the same question. “Mirror, mirror, on the wall, who is the fairest of them all?”

“Prince Adian is the fairest of them all,” the mirror said, unable to lie. Queen Eteri smashed the mirror against the floor in a rage, furious to learn that she was no longer the most beautiful. The enchanted mirror could not be broken, but the blunt force left a large crack on its face that only grew longer and wider with time, just as Eteri’s jealousy for the young prince did.

At Prince Adian’s fifteenth birthday, Queen Eteri was so consumed by her jealousy that she sent a huntsman to kill him and bring his heart to her. However, the huntsman could not bring himself to kill the beautiful young prince, and told him to run away from the kingdom as far as possible. He returned to the Queen with a fawn’s fresh heart instead, and Eteri, pleased with herself, did not realise the hunter’s lie.

Driven deep into the forest, Prince Adian was exhausted and starving when he came upon a large wooden house in a clearing at sunset. There were lights on and smoke rising from its chimneys, so he knocked on the door carefully, hoping that the house’s owner would be kind enough to let him stay the night.

“Misha, go get the door,” Daria shouted from the kitchen, pushing away a grey-haired cat sniffing at the cooking stew. There was a large crash, followed by a loud exlamation “ow!”, and someone else called “I’ll get it, don’t worry!”.

After a few moments of chaos, the door finally creaked open. A dark-haired man stood by the door, and his expression clearly showed he was slightly taken aback by the miserable state of the prince at the door.

“Excuse me, I’m sorry,” Prince Adian said, tugging at his tunic that was drenched in sweat. “Can I - maybe -”

“Oh, please do come in,” the man invited, “Welcome to our house, my name is Mark!”

At dinner - after a short argument regarding “why on earth do you let people in so easily” - Mark explained to Adian that the house was inhabited by six people (three couples). Mikhail and Evgeni were brothers and both princes of a fallen kingdom, with Daria and Andrei their respective wife/partner, and Mark was also a prince, who was banished from his own country because he insisted on marrying Artur. They found the desolated forest a safe sanctuary, and eventually decided to make this their new home. “Don’t worry,” Mark concluded cheerfully, “you are welcome to stay here for as long as you need to!”

Adian nodded solemnly. He had no idea where he would end up if not for the kindness of these people, and he thanked them profusely, making even Evgeni, the stoicest of them all, blush a little.

Days turned into months and into years. Time passed peacefully in the quiet forest, with Adian gradually learning to help Daria out with chores and cats, spending the nights drinking or partying and dancing with the rest of the household (especially Misha), and sometimes wishing he was deaf so he didn’t need to hear the weird noises coming from every bedroom at night. But the peace was shattered when a suspicious old woman appeared at the cottage one day.

It was Queen Eteri, dressed in tatters, disguising as a poor woman trying to sell her farm produce. For she had finally realised that the hunter had tricked her, when the enchanted mirror told her that Prince Adian was still the fairest of them all, and set out to kill the prince - now a grown young man - herself. 

“Kind man,” she said in a hoarse, shaking voice, playing her part of an old woman quite convincingly. “Would you be so kind as to give me a penny for this ripe apple?” She asked.

Adian, with Mark’s kind-heartedness having rubbed off him, took pity on the old woman (unfortunately). He gave her a penny and took the plump, luscious-looking apple, completely oblivious of the venom it contained. With a quick look to the sun hanging high in the clear blue skies, Adian decided to take a small bite of the apple and quickly succumbed to the posion, collapsing into a dark oblivion.

Seeing this, Queen Eteri returned to the castle, cackling as she went. “Mirror, mirror, on the wall, who is the fairest of them all?” She asked her enchanted mirror. “You are, your majesty,” the mirror responded, and Eteri laughed evilly.

Zhenya and Andrei were the first to return from town at twilight, and Andrei was horrified to discover Adian lying unconscious in front of their cottage. “Get me the box,” Zhenya ordered, quickly pulling a packet of smelling salts from his pocket in a fruitless first attempt to wake Adian. Andrei hurriedly brought Zhenya’s medical box from the house, and even as night fell, he refused to give up. Even the cat was meowing urgently at the side, and Misha and Daria tried to comfort it (and themselves) by stroking the cat’s furry coat. But nothing could revive Adian, and the six men and a cat mourned the loss of their dear friend.

*insert sad instrumental music*

Adian was carried in a glass coffin and the men were prepared to bury him when a hunting party passed by. Mark explained to the leader of the party, who happened to be King Plushenko of the neighbouring country, of Adian’s tragic life story.

“Such a pity,” King Plushenko sighed, patting the glass coffin gently. “I would have liked to adopt him as my son, if only…”

“Wait. What the fuck?” Misha exclaimed and Andrei let out a short scream before clamping his hands over his mouth. The rest of them rushed over to find Adian awakening, and Daria and Mark could hardly hold back tears of joy. 

“How…what did you do?” Zhenya asked with a frown. (He checked Adian’s pulse and it wasn’t there! Does this man know some kind of dark magic - or healing magic - that he doesn’t?)

Plushenko raised an eyebrow. “Ah, I remember you,” he said, “the younger prince of Siberia. I can teach you if you want to learn,” he offered to the young man who shared his first name, who didn’t even waste a second in agreeing to his suggestion.

King Plushenko eventually brought Prince Adian to his kingdom and officially adopted him as his son, and took Zhenya as his apprentice.

One day, Queen Eteri was at it again. “Mirror, mirror, on the wall, who is the fairest of them all?”

“There is an heir to a kingdom, who is fairer than you,” the enchanted mirror answered.

Queen Eteri flew into a rage and stormed into the neighbouring country in her mirror’s directions. “Who is the heir to this kingdom?” She demanded to know.

“The King’s son,” the palace guards answered, puzzled. “Well, adopted son, really.”

Eteri forced her way into the castle and discovered that King Plushenko had adopted Prince Adian. She pulled out a dagger, madness driving her desire to kill the prince once more, but was held in place by an invisible force that she could not wrestle out of.

“Look who we have here,” Prince Adian said, glaring at the woman who had long been posioned by her own jealousy and vanity. “Zhenya, what should we do with her?” 

Prince Zhenya gave a short, disdainful laugh, and with a snap of his fingers the invisible force shoved Eteri into a kneeling position as if she was a prisoner. “I have the best idea,” he said, “if you let me execute it.”

“Of course,” Prince Adian said, a mischievous glow in his eyes, more than eager to know what Zhenya had in mind.

A pair of red-hot iron dance shoes appeared, and forced itself into Eteri’s feet. “What are you doing?!” She screamed in agony as the burning heat scorched her skin. The invisible force that had been pinning her down to the ground now forced her to stand on her feet. “I AM THE QUEEN OF SAMBO!! YOU CANNOT DO THIS TO ME!!” Eteri continued her anguished screams, as her feet refused to obey her and broke into an uncontrollable dance.

“Yes I can,” Zhenya said coldly, as he watched with amusement at the woman descending into a hideous hysteria. “This is not Sambo; we are the Princes of Petersberg and we can do whatever we want to you here.”

“I DEMAND TO SEE YOUR KING!!” Eteri protested, and the two men exchanged a knowing smirk. “Look behind you,” Prince Adian said, unable to hold back and finally bursting into maniacal laughter at Eteri’s pained and panicked expression.

King Plushenko had indeed been standing behind Queen Eteri the whole time. “Great job boys,” he praised, and couldn’t resist laughing at Eteri’s distorted features. Prince Zhenya snickered as Eteri’s mouth opened to a soundless scream, her deformed legs still moving vigorously even as her body collapsed onto the floor, and Prince Adian’s eyes were shining brightly with excitement and the sweet taste of revenge.

Eteri visibly exhaled for the last time and her entire body went lifelessly limp. “Well, now for the less fun bit: we’ll have to clean up,” Plushenko shrugged, “We don’t want to scare the others.”

Zhenya and Adian nodded, and within a few snaps of their fingers, the violent scene strewn with blood and melting body parts returned to its usual clean, spotless state.

“Job done!”

All of them, from King Plushenko to Daria and Misha’s cat, lived happily ever after.

Chapter Text

Once upon a time, in the kingdom of ISU, the capital was suffering from a rat infestation. The people tried every single method they could ever think of, and still the rats would not leave.

Desperate, the King and Queen of ISU issued a notice that promised 1000 PCS (*PCS is the official currency in the country) to whoever can rid the kingdom of the rats. It wasn’t long before a man in zebra-print clothes turned up, claiming to have the solution to the rat infestation that long troubled ISU.

Slightly skeptical, the King asked the man to present his solution. “It is very simple,” the man, who introduced himself as Stephane Lambiel, the zebra piper, said. “I can do it right now and you can see with your own eyes.” 

Stephane took out a shiny silver pipe, and started playing a fast and merry tune. Every single rat in the kingdom emerged from their damp and mouldy hiding places as soon as their ears caught the sound of Stephane’s music, following him until Stephane eventually led them to the swollen Goe river. The rats, completely enchanted by the music, could not stop themselves and fell into the turbulent waters of the Goe river, where they all drowned.

The people of the kingdom of ISU were amazed; unfortunately, the king and queen appeared unimpressed. They refused to pay Stephane his 1000 PCS, claiming that they would not accept his methods. Indignant at the ISU’s shameless behavious, Stephane left the kingdom, fuming and vowing to take revenge. No one in ISU took his words seriously at the time, but in hindsight, their arrogance was their downfall.

One beautiful, calm summer’s day, Stephane returned to ISU. As the people were busy celebrating the kingdom’s latest achievement, a successful model of the TES machine, no one noticed that the zebra piper had returned and the devastating scheme he had in mind.

Stephane took out his pipe and started playing, this time a powerful yet melancholic tune. A majestic lion with sad eyes, a sleepy-looking poodle dog and a fiery bird followed Stephane out of the kingdom, disappearing into the horizon.

A few hours passed before the Kingdom of ISU realised what had happened. The Queen’s favourite dog was missing, and the two prized attractions of their famed circus, the lion and the firebird, have all but disappeared into thin air. Frantically, they searched the whole kingdom high and low, but there was no trace of the animals to be found. The King and the circusmaster were furiously helpless, as the three animals must have left the kingdom, yet there was nothing in their power that could allow them to locate the animals. The Queen fell into despair, and the circus became so dilapidated as no one came to their shows anymore that they eventually had to close down.

In a country far far away, in a small village named Champéry, Stephane and the animals lived happily ever after, surrounded by beautiful snow-capped mountains and peaceful lakes; far from the hot mess in the kingdom of ISU, far from the haunts of the TES machine and the PCS that ISU owed them.