#secretsantacinphen2k19

[meiryuki]

This is my secret santa for Siren for the Cinderella Phenomenon exchange!! I’m glad to finally have an excuse for drawing fanart for this lovely game

They wanted Karma/Rumpel chaos and I thought it would be funny drawing Karma shoving Rumpel aside to take a picture with Lucette (Because, he totally would) 

[klaudealmonte]

This is my Secret Santa for @Kiriponan! I hope you enjoy this!! ❤️❤️

Prompt: Past!Lucette x Fritz? Fritz reflects on his feelings when he sees Lucette acting so distant to everyone? But general past!Lucette x Fritz would be nice too if you can’t do that

He had be born to be her shadow

Fritz had known this fact all of his life. His sole duty was to protect the princess, to keep her safe and secure, to make sure that the kingdom would not lose its heir and future queen. His entire education had been based on that fact, his training, his demeanor.

He had kept his distance in the beginning. His view of her tainted by rumours and half-truths.

She was the witch's daughter, the evil offspring.

Her soul was made of ice.

She had no soul at all, that‘s the reason she never smiles.

She might not even be the king‘s daughter. The princess was the spawn of the devil himself!

Lucette had even surpassed his low expectations. She was disrespectful and cruel. She didn‘t care about those around her and she didn‘t care about the lives she ruined with the decisions she made. He found her cruel and careless. She was nothing more then her mother‘s mirror image.

And yet he had sworn an oath, he had promised his king to protect his daughter to the best of his abilities. He would remain by her side until that duty had been fulfilled.

Fritz could never had imagined that a single moment would upend his entire life.

He had never seen Lucette like that. Her smile was wide as she danced around the empty courtyard with one of her puppets in hand. The twinkling stars of the night sky the only witness Lucette seemed to allow to her little gathering. Her sweet laugh filled the air around her and something inside of Fritz twisted as he watched her almost childish glee. he pressed himself against a tree, his breath hitching as he listened to Lucette. The veil was being lifted right in front of is eyes. The ice melting and shattering and that destruction left a small and vulnerable girl behind. Her pain, her suffering, her longing, her hopes and dreams were laid before him.

He had been wrong. They all had been wrong.

She was not cruel but in pain.

She was not careless but scared.

Her barrier was made of ice because she could not bare to be left behind again.

There was no explanation for the tingle that spread across his very being. Every perception he had exploded into a million stars leaving nothing behind but the sweet sound of her joyous laugh. She left him behind as he tried to grasp what had occured right now.

He watched Lucette much more closely now. How could he not have seen the signs she tried to hide so desperately. How could he have been so blind?

Now he saw every interaction the princess had in a new light. He could sense her insecurities and her fear of rejection. He wanted to scream and riot whenever somebody dared to speak ill about his princess. He wanted to hold her tight, to kidnap her and show her that life was nothing to fear but to celebrate.

He changed his entire demeanor around her. Gone was the grumpy knight who was forced to protect the royal princess. Fritz showed Lucette his happy self, tried to show her that there was kindness to be found if she just let herself believe.

Lucette seemed confused in the beginning. Was he really the first person in her life that showed her any kind of positive feedback? His heart bled for the young princess and his motivation to be her friend only grew by leaps and bounds.

He laughed and made jokes.

He defended her against the evil rumours circulating inside of the palace.

He tried to get her to come outside with him, to experience the life behind the walls of ice she had built around herself and beyond the palace walls. She refused him time and time again, but he would not give up.

And from time to time he could see between the cracks. Could see a genuine smile when he brought her a pastry, when he saw how she interacted with her dolls.

Every smile was like a dart through his heart and the knight didn‘t even notice that the princess wormed her way right into his heart. He started to crave those smiles, the little sassy remark she made whenever they interacted with each other.

His heart fluttered whenever they eyes met.

His mouth went dry when she accidentally brushed against his arm.

His palms got sweaty whenever he had to touch her.

And at night he dreamt about a kiss that might never happen. Of sweet lips that were thought to be cold as ice but filled his veins with eternal fire.

And so he fell, slowly but surely for a princess who had crafted an armor of ice to protect the fierce heart she hid in her chest. His duty turned into devotion and loyalty.

He was her shadow now and forevermore.

[atthechimeofmidnight]

CinPhen Secret Santa!!!

So a bunch of discord peeps decided to do a secret santa! Here is my fanfic for @distracteddaydreams ! Hope y’all enjoy! Day requested some post-route politics, and I chose to do a Karma x Lucette fic. about 3k words, sorry about that haha

Lucette could feel the slightest tension begin to set into her forehead. Previously she had believed the royal court of Angielle to be tedious, but the court of Brugantia was proving to be even more so.

The long process of a inter-dynasty marriage had begun, requiring the crown princess to spend long periods of time away from her homeland to perform various duties in her betrothed’s country. Treaties had to be formed about what territory goes where, what monarch goes to what country, trade privileges, etc; and the two countries had to become acquainted formally in a series of diplomatic meetings and balls between royal figures and courts.

If this could be called diplomatic.

Treaties Lucette could handle. Her mother, albeit dubiously, taught her how to negotiate in these situations: what terms were outrageous, how to protect herself and her country as its ruler, how to add bits and pieces into the conditions that would give an invisible upper hand...but not how to handle-

“Lucette, dear, how do you enjoy the tea? It is one of Brugantia’s finest imports. But I’m sure our prince has treated you to this before, yes?

-cattiness. Looking across the table, Lucette mustered her best polite smile (or grimace. She was very sure it was a grimace) to reply, “Klaude prefers coffee, so we tend to take that in the afternoon in the place of tea.”

There was a noticeable, charged pause, causing Lucette’s eyes to flick wildly between the ladies. All of them had angled slightly to face her, expectantly waiting, each looking with a mix of indifference and lightly concealed distaste. 

I said something wrong. What am I missing what am I missing what am I-

“The tea is lovely, though, I will have to urge him to include it the next time we take tea together.”

And like that the tension was cut. The women turned away from her to resume their neutral state, and Lucette could breathe once again. Duchess Angeline, a middle-aged, auburn-haired woman, was more than pleased to recount whatever gossip she heard amongst her servants, and attention was diverted from the princess.

Silently glancing at the clock in the corner, Lucette unfortunately found that she had nearly another half hour left with the court. If she had known that the process of marrying Klaude would take this many unnecessary conversations with so many dull individuals, she would have considered eloping.

As soon as the fantasy sprung in her mind, Lucette squashed it immediately. She has duties. Klaude has duties. And, while Lucette nor Klaude would admit it, they both loved their countries in the way a ruler only could. It was an odd, begrudging love, like a parent to an unruly child, but love nonetheless. For this reason, it was necessary that they fight through the messiness that was dealing with nobility.

Lucette, however, felt absolutely blindsided by the workings of Brugantia’s court. While previously in Angielle, the court had played a significant role in politics, the tyrannical reign of her mother had killed the power of nobility considerably; consequently, the king now absolutely resided over all lands with the court serving as a liaison between the king and the people. Her father intended to keep it that way to continue to ensure stability in the kingdom still recovering from the Great War. Brugantia was frustratingly different. It kept with the tradition of a spread out system of nobles having significant control over various territories, which led to them working with the king and advisors to pass laws that would benefit their lands (and themselves).

How on earth are you supposed to trust these people to do what’s best for the kingdom?, Lucette thought. All they seem to talk about is themselves or the next dullest thing possible.

She took another bite out of the cake in front of her and involuntarily cringed. Another thing she had yet to get used to was how Brugantian tea time seemed to consist of sweet snacks and other various desserts, compared to the more savory tea time she was used to in Angielle. While she did enjoy the occasional pastry, having one nearly every single day was enough to exhaust those cravings.

“Is something not to your liking, your highness?”

Apparently she hadn’t concealed her distaste well enough.

Lucette took a moment to center herself before returning to the duchess sitting across the table from her, silently scrambling to say something other than the fact that she was quite sick of sweets. Suddenly, the lady sitting to her right interrupted before the princess could speak, setting her fork down quite loudly.

“I do think that the chocolate petit four is off today, don’t you agree, princess?”

Lucette nearly sighed with relief. “I do, actually.”

Duchess Angeline was quick to recover, as it appeared the interruption surprised her as much as it did Lucette. Regardless, Lucette was grateful for the unspoken support of the woman. She did not miss, however, the quick glare the duchess sent to the lady and her slight shrug in response. 

The etiquette of politics is far too complicated in her opinion. Having to say exactly the right thing to get your point across all under the guise of false politeness is...frustrating, to say the least. Entire conversations could be had in complete silence, communicating only through subtle changes in body language. Speaking was worse. Everything had its own hidden meaning, and changing how exactly you said one word could completely turn a situation on its head. It is far easier, Lucette thought, to just be direct. Be honest. Enough of this sickly sweet poison. She did see the logic behind it, albeit dubious. To say something a little too rough to another person in power could be the tipping point for inciting a trade block or, god forbid, a rebellion.

The brown-haired woman sighed dramatically. “Well, we will just have to talk to Remille. It’s not like him to bake a bad cake.” Just as Lucette thought the crisis was averted, then, faintly, there was that dark change again in Angeline’s eyes as the woman raised her teacup to her lips. “Lucette, your step-mother and step-siblings are bakers, yes? Ah, excuse me, former bakers. How does it compare to the servant cooks?”

The princess could feel her temperature rise a couple of degrees. She suspected that there would be some resistance to the engagement due to her mother being, well, Hildyr, and Lucette had prepared to protect herself against such attacks, but it now seemed like dissenters would use anything as a weapon to express their distaste.

 So this is the true nature of the court, she thought bitterly. And while Lucette was not on the greatest terms with her family, their relationship had gotten better, and on most nights the princess did enjoy their company. In these moments, it felt as if the entire world was trying to prove that her changed viewpoint was for nothing, as if every cruel act and word proved her old self right. 

Her hand went to her throat unconsciously, resting where her glass slipper pendant sat before she broke her curse. Lucette fixed her posture, lifting her chin before smiling a cool, closed smile at the woman. I will not let her know that I am irritated. I will not let her irritate me. I am above being petty. If she wants to play etiquette politics, then so be it.

“Yes, they were. In fact, Queen Ophelia,” she said, emphasizing her step-mother’s title, “Still bakes to this day, to relieve stress I believe. She is an extremely talented baker in my opinion.”

Apparently that was not the reaction that the woman was searching for. Duchess Angeliene’s eyes widened slightly as she dropped her cup to its saucer, and opened her mouth as if to defend herself. Before the woman could get a word out, Lucette interrupted her.

“And, if you would, I am the crown princess of Angielle and the fiancé of the crown prince of Brugantia. I assume you have not forgotten my correct addresses?”

The informal usage of her name, without even a title, by a woman she did not even know, incensed Lucette in an extremely deep manner. Stature, as she had learned, was not everything, but even the most basic of manners are required. But to be addressed so informally, so disrespectfully, was so...personal.

Every lady of the court at the table watched with wide eyes. The soft din of noise that usually accompanied afternoon tea was completely silenced. The older, more experienced women corrected themselves quickly and resorted to flicking their eyes between the princess, who had taken an air of regality, and the duchess, who had seemed to have lost all of hers.

Angeline took a moment to regain her composure, although her neck, splotched with red, displayed her flustered state. “I apologize, Your Majesty. I forgot myself in that moment, and…” the woman paused before forcing out, “I do hope you’ll forgive me.”

The princesses let out the breath she did not know she was holding, her hands relaxing in her lap. A victory, although admittedly a small one. If Lucette was not liked by the court, so be it, but she’ll be damned before she is run out by petty women who did not even know her.

There was a knock on the door behind Lucette, snapping everyone out of the tension that had seized the occupants of the room. The lady sitting next to Duchess Angeline (Lucette racked her brain before remembering the Marqesse’s name, Cerise) nudged the woman, who had forgotten that as the host of the afternoon, she was to answer the door. The corners of Lucette’s mouth twitched.

The duchess jumped. “Ah! Yes, do come in!” Lucette did not miss the way her shoulders sunk with relief at the diversion from her failed jab, before noticing all of the courtiers stood suddenly. Whoever came in must be equal to or higher in stature than the court, and Lucette could only pray that it wasn’t the k-

Before the princess could finish her thought, however, she felt arms being draped around her and a low voice close to her ear.

“I do apologize, but could I steal my fiancé away from you ladies for a moment?”

Klaude. Lucette broke into a soft smile, relief both at being saved from the court and happiness at seeing her betrothed for this first time that day.

And then turned a deep red.

Klaude pressed a soft, slow kiss to the skin just below her ear, causing the princess to shiver. What made matters worse, however, was the fact that the prince had buried his face in Lucette’s neck, angling his head just enough to see the rest of the table.

Suddenly the ladies of the court were far more interested in the embroidery on the table cloth, and Angeline was determined to look anywhere but at the royal couple. “Well, of cour-”

“Fantastic,” Klaude said, pulling Lucette out of her seat. “If you would excuse us.”

Lucette had barely bent into a curtsey before Klaude had pulled her out of the room and away from the various social rooms deeper into the palace. He was walking at a slightly faster pace than her, forcing the princess to nearly jog to stay holding his hand. 

What’s wrong with him? 

She couldn’t quite see the full expression of his face, but it seemed to her that he had a very firm grasp of his composure. That is, until Lucette looked at his eyes, green and intense with some unpleasant emotion she couldn’t place. The last thing she remembered talking about with him was his hunting trip with his father. Oh.

“Klaude, wh-”

The red-headed man simply squeezed her hand, and uttered, “Not now. Just a little bit more, my love.”

So she kept quiet and followed along. Lucette knew Klaude, and she knew that his ‘not now’ was now a promise rather than a dismissal; however, she could never get used to how she was never able to help Klaude until he decided to reveal to her what was bothering him. It was these small moments where she felt as clueless to him as she was when she first met him, and it was these small moments she despised.

Lucette was so wrapped up in her thoughts and what was possibly bothering Klaude that she failed to notice the number of servants and courtiers lining the hallways dwindling until there were none around the engaged pair. Klaude stopped abruptly, dropping her hand. She then took a moment to assess her surroundings, and noticed that they were in a section of the palace that was being redone, swaths of fabric covering the portions of the wall where wallpaper was being replaced. Lucette turned to look at her fiancé, standing stone still barely a foot from her. She cautiously reached out to touch his shoulder, to do something to bring him out of whatever mood he was in.

The moment her fingertips brushed his shoulder, Klaude pounced on the princess without warning, hands on either side of her face and kissing her with an intensity Lucette had never experienced. Yes, they had kissed...passionately before, but this felt different. The concern in Lucette’s mind faded as she melted underneath him, her hands clutching at his shoulders for stability.

The reciprocation only seemed to drive Klaude further, pushing Lucette against the wall. In surprise, the woman gasped against his lips, allowing him to slip his tongue into her mouth. Lucette’s hands finally found themselves in the prince’s hair, and as she experimentally tightened her grip, she could’ve sworn she heard him make a noise from the back of his throat.

Klaude pulled away, only to return his attentions to her neck. In a sudden moment of clarity, Lucette suddenly remembered why they were in this wing in the first place, and managed to squeeze out a, “What happened?”

The prince stopped briefly in his affections to laugh mirthlessly, and between kisses, said, “One of my...father’s advisors...does not think...that our marriage...is a good idea.”

Lucette froze, pushing against her fiancé’s shoulders to stop his ministrations, shock running cold in her system. “He said what?” 

Klaude released the princess, bringing himself up to make eye contact with her, but leaving his hands on her waist. She could now see his eyes clearly, desire slowly being overtaken by what the princess could only describe as fury.

“He said that it was a political disadvantage. That Angielle was too unstable, too unpredictable to have an alliance with, that...”

Her eyes widened. He was implying that…

“...I was too unstable to have on the throne,” Lucette finished for him. The man flinched in response, and she could feel his hands form fists in the fabric of her dress.

“And earlier too, with the duchess I-” Klaude suddenly exclaimed, the edges of his words tinged with distress, and his right hand moving to clutch the rose necklace she gave him.

That was enough.

“Klaude.” Lucette took his face in her hands, forcing him to look her in the eyes. He looked at her almost frantically, green eyes wide, and she suddenly realized how all of this was taking a toll on him. Klaude had never been the responsible type, she had heard so many stories from him about how exactly he’d hide and shirk his various charges. To now be dealing with all of his duties and interacting with the court and the advisors must be...overwhelming, to say the least. 

The princess returned her focus to the man in front of her, who was still looking at her, searching her face for something that he could decipher, that he could hold onto. 

“We are still getting married, yes?”

The words had barely left her mouth before he retorted with a quick, incredulous, “Of course.”

She leaned forward, placing a delicate kiss on Klaude’s lips, pulling back before the man could deepen it. “Then that is it. Forget everything else. It doesn’t matter what the courts think. Them disapproving of our engagement does not stop the fact that you are going to be my husband.”

He stared at her blankly for a second before breaking out into a soft smile. “Say it again, love. Please.”

Lucette acquiesced. “You are going to be my husband.”

Klaude’s hands slowly made their way to her face to tuck her hair back to where it had fallen out during their earlier kiss. “Yes, I will be. And you will be my wife.”

The princess flushed and knew that the small amount of powder she applied in the morning would not be enough to hide the reddening color of her face. She quickly looked away, choosing to not acknowledge her fiancé’s chuckle at her embarrassment. “I-I will be. I will be,” she said, trying to mask how the phrase made her stomach flutter. “We just have to get arrangement terms processed. All of this...interaction is just for etiquette and tradition.”

“Besides,” Klaude drawled slyly, “my father likes you too much to let you go. Something about you being a good influence on me and ‘keeping me in check’, although I have no idea what he could possibly mean by that.”

Huffing, Lucette pushed the man’s shoulders lightly, not bothering to hide the smile now growing on her face as well. She knew that as long as Klaude loved her, nothing else mattered, but it was reassuring to know that the king did not look down on her because of her nature as a witch, her relations, or how cruel she used to be.

Lucette turned, murmuring a soft, “We should head back,” which elicited a groan from Klaude. Regardless of his displeasure at the idea of returning to the day, the prince still followed, offering his arm to walk her, which the princess immediately took. They walked in silence for a moment, both enjoying the other’s company, before Lucette turned to her partner. 

“What was that in the tea room?”

“I’m afraid I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Klaude retorted, blatantly feigning innocence.

The princess raised a brow. “So you don’t remember accosting me in a full room?”

“Oh that? I would hardly call that accosting you, dear, just…” He paused. “Just sending a message.”

Lucette huffed, nudging Klaude to keep moving. The pair walked back to where they were expected; however, unbeknownst to them, word had gotten to the king of Klaude’s ‘message’, and the man was understandably excited about embarrassing the both of them at dinner later that night.

[lunettebritton]

Waltz and Fritz

My secret santa was a person named @lovelyjo in our CP Discord.

I had a lot of fun making this even though it took me like 16 hours in total.

Basic Layout

Combined Version

Blur Version

Shade without Blurring Version

References:::

[verona-mira-random]

Secret Santa for CP

This is my Secret Santa gift for @juliefandom. She wished for Angst and Tragedy, in combination with a bad end from either Fritz or Rumpel, where Lucette dies instead of the LoveInterest in question.

The wolf in his head was howling. Fritz forced the painful sounds out of his focus to pay further attention to the swords coming at him, her scream still ringing in his ears, painfully aware of the downed body on the floor behind him.

Bleeding, but not dead. Wounded, but they had a doctor at that inn, and if he just managed to get her there in time-!

More knights flooded into the throne room and his thoughts were abandoned, all of his mind focusing on the fight instead. Swords met, shouts echoed through the air, and the chaos showed no sign of letting up. Desperation increasing, his thoughts raced.

There was a shove against his sword, his distraction costing him dearly as he cursed, almost losing his balance. It was enough for the wolf to push forward again.

He felt his body twist strangely as the other personality took hold of it, turning away from the opponent and getting more space between them, he ran straight to the princess, scooping her up into his arms, and then kept running.

-oOo-

Varg hated how far the Marchen was  from the palace. If it had been closer, it would have been easier to find the princess back then, easier to remember the shortest path, less time needed to reach it.

As it was, he was forced to move at the fastest pace he knew he could keep up with while also not jostling his precious cargo too much. Stupid knight, not putting the princess first, too busy smashing heads in! So many minutes wasted waving that stupid sword around, when he could have been closer to the doctor already!

The other consciousness reared in his mind, but didn't rise up to fight him, at least seemingly aware of the fact that a fight now would only slow them down or -even worse- make him drop her!

Houses seemingly flew past him as he ran; and then, there, finally, was the building he had been looking for. The wolf tried to ignore how limp the princess had become in his arms as he smashed the door open.

The two knights familiar to the Hunter moved to meet him, only stopping as they saw his load.

A golden glow was his only warning, then the world went away as the fairy knocked him out.

-oOo-

Fritz awoke with a headache and the princess nowhere in sight.

He could recognize the inn Varg had run to, but the building was quiet now. Worry gnawing at him, he went to look around.

Just opening the door was already rewarding him with distant voices. Instead of following them straight away, he stilled. He smelled blood.

The door was just a bit further down the hallway and ajar. There was a strange feeling coiling in his stomach as he pushed it open.

It was a bedroom. A bed,  a table and chair, a drawer. And no one was in.

The bloody sheet covering the bed seemed to attract his gaze in an eerie way. It was covering a vaguely human form. Breath caught in his lungs, fear rose inside him; he felt the wolf inside him twist, push through the short moment he spent frozen, staring at the bed.

Fritz pulled the sheet away.

He didn't know what was worse, staring at the lifeless body of his princess or knowing it was his fault.

-oOo-

The wolf's howls must have attracted the people that stormed into the room and pulled him away from the dead body of the center of his world for the last several years.

He fought and pulled against their grip and tried to get out of grasping hands that were forcing him away from his love.

Darkness washed over him as Varg pounced forward.

-oOo-

Varg didn't care for the glares sent his way, barely listened to the recollection of how Alcaster had sneaked back into the country and tried to get all of the royal family killed in one sweep.

The king being in attendance here clearly spoke of a failure there. The wolf wished that ripping out his throat would be enough to allow his princess to take breath again.

As it was, he needed to make do with glaring at them, baring teeth and feeling the knight flail in his mind; all the pain and sorrow, grief and guilt tearing him apart.

Fritz didn't fight his grasp on the body anymore. It was strange how easy it was to stay in control now.

Halfway listening, he took in how Alcaster had pushed the kingdom into a civil war with the Witch Queen's supporters and the traitor's knights using the kingdom as their playground. It left the remaining loyal knights and everyone wanting to help scrambling around for information and orders about how to proceed.

He finds himself thirsting for the Witch Queen's and the traitor's blood.

-oOo-

Fritz is silent in his mind as the blade cuts apart opponents, only stirring when nudged and otherwise just unmoving.

Varg knew that he wasn't even watching what was going on, what was happening with his body, as if his very will had been taken by the princess' death.

It's a bit of a pity, he muses, that Fritz will never see how Varg drove a sword through Hildyr's chest. How Genaro executed Alcaster and rallied loyal knights to hunt down the usurpers.

But it didn't matter in the end if Fritz saw it or not. The knights state only meant he wasn't going to disappear.

-oOo-

There was a strange feeling gnawing at him in the aftermath of the last battle. Not right away, but it settled in with the lessening number of people left to track down.

The witch who had created him had managed to slip away yet again, trail lost among trading ships at the harbour. Rage filled him at the thought of the leash still existing somewhere, but he also doubted the man would ever search him out.

But it also left him floating in this world, where he hadn't existed at some point. He was left with Fritz' possessions, but no task. No order to follow. No opponent to fight.

It started as a gnawing feeling, until loneliness tore at him.

No one is comfortable talking to him. Because he is a curse. He looks too much like Fritz. He's too vicious. Too inhuman.

Varg looks at them and hates.

He was a wolf. He wasn't supposed to get lonely. But wolves were pack animals. He had forgotten that the curse dictated his actions.

At least Fritz couldn't leave.

-oOo-

The king looked at him with worry in his eyes. Emelaigne feared him too much to not run from him. The prince wasn't any different from her, and their mother barely crossed his path.

Fritz was still. An unmoving curled up dog, only apathy left for the world.

The funeral of the crown princess was a quiet thing among the celebrations of the other faction’s defeat.

The inhabitants of the inn were there; Waltz looking like someone ripped his heart out, a puppet getting its strings pulled from afar now. 

The doctor wasn't looking much better. Having bartered with the witch doctor before each time a patient was about to die, the princess was his first failure.

The Fairy and Witch looked like their world had collapsed under them, taking their lives with it; the bar girl looked like she had cried her eyes out.

The sword fighters were standing together, looking stone faced.

The royals were a mixture. The King seemed to have aged decades. The Queen had cried. The Prince was just looking down. The remaining Princess seemed to have used up all of her tears.

The princess’ body is in the coffin, still preserved by magic to not turn to dust, was slowly lowered into the ground among a sea of white lilies.

The fairy seemed to have cast some sort of spell, as the dirt filled the grave on it's own and lilies sprung from the soil, only leaving the gravestone reaching up past the blossoms..

The knight inside him wasn't just quiet now. There was a void where he had been.

Varg screamed.

[klaudealmonte]

This is my Secret Santa for @AI the Frog!! I hope you enjoy it ❤️❤️

No AU’s, but mainly the Rumpel and Klaude pair or the Lucette and Fritz, with Fritz going between himself and Varg. (Wow, thats oddly specific)

It was a dance, a give and take.

He had told everybody that Varg had disappeared, that he had finally accepted the darkness inside of himself, so the wolf was no longer needed.

What a lie that was.

A tale they had spun so that unimportant people would not bother them anymore. It was after all unimportant what they thought. They knew that the only person that mattered didn‘t care about their unique circumstances and that was good enough for them.

Fritz and Varg had an agreement, because they both knew that Lucette needed and loved them. They were both vital to her happiness and so they would learn to share the same body to make their princess happy. And if Lucette knew of their pact, she acted none the wiser.

She loved Fritz‘s softer side. The gentle kisses, the caresses whenever she was stressed, the gentle way he danced with her across the room. Lucette cherished the moments when he made her laugh, or when he brought her the baked goods she loved so much. Lucette felt so safe and loved in his arms. Their love was the air she needed to breathe, to be able to move forward.

She loved Varg‘s more intense side. The way he pushes her against the wall and ravishes her, the way his hands finds their way into her hair pulling at it just a little bit. Lucette loves the moments when he makes her moan in delight or when he steals her away in the middle of the night to play a game of tag in the woods. She felt desired and worshipped in his arms. Their shared love was the fire she needed to fight for the things that she wants in life.

Lucette never said anything. She acted like she never knew that she was sharing her life with two men. Once she would have recoiled at the thought of having two lovers, or any lover at all.

She never believed in love at all, it was such a foreign concept for a girl that had only known contempt and hate all her life. Her mother had poisoned her idea of love and intimacy. In Lucette’s mind it was something people used to gain something, a tool. But she had never been so wrong.

The love she felt for both of these men was so vastly different and still the same. And so she never questioned why nobody around her seemed to notice the subtle shift in behaviour. After all nobody loved them like she did.

The way their voice had a slight growl to it, when Varg was in control. The way his moves got more elegant, more wolf like. He was toeing the line of wild beast and civilized man. A hunter surveying his surroundings, waiting for the right moment to pounce.

It felt exhilarating to be his preferred prey. To feel his gaze across her skin, the tingling feeling it left behind.

Fritz‘s demeanor was softer, smoother around the edges. A true knight, her knight in every aspect of the word. She knew that he would fight any enemy she had to face. His eyes scanning every room for every kind of danger. His shining light made her a better person. His morals guided her in a world she still needed help with.

She had never felt so warm in her entire life. His very being made everything just a bit brighter. He melted the ice one piece at a time.

Yes their relationship was a dance, a give and a take. The perfect balance between the light and the dark.

They were both vital for her well being and so they will stay by her side.

Forever.

[stormgardenscurse]

He didn’t need a gift; a smile was all that mattered.

My Secret Santa gift to Verona-mira. I hope you like it! The prompt was redeemed Myth getting roped into a Marchen Christmas Celebration. It’s about 1k words and Myth/Lucette!

Myth was a lot of things, but never had he considered himself extroverted in the least.

Sure, he’d been in the royal court, attended the odd ball or two - but even then he’s always left as soon as he could. Myth much rathered the company of a few close friends compared to a large gathering.

Which was why he was, understandably, reluctant at the invitation of a party - as well as the task of helping set it up.

He’s never even celebrated Christmas on his own before! What made them think he’d be suited to plan and decorate the event space?

Just as he was about to give Delora his answer, she raised a palm toward him, stopping the words. “Before you say no, there’s a reason why I’m asking you, out of all people.”

Myth raised a brow. “And what might that be?”

Sharp, magenta eyes met his. “It’s for Lucette.”

At that, a small smirk tugged at his lips. “What about the Princess?”

“You already know,” Delora straightened, words linked with fond exasperation. “It’s her first Christmas with the Marchen, and we want her to feel comfortable. Parfait figured that you’d know how to set things up, with all your time in the castle.”

“You’re worried that things won’t be to her taste.”

“I’m worried that you might mess things up, with what we had in mind.” She quipped. “We’ve agreed to enchant the decorations around the building, but the lot of us with magic will be off running other errands; you were our next best option.”

“I’ll do it,” Myth finally said. “That is, if you’re not too worried about my inability?”

Delora huffed, throwing an annoyed glance toward him before she walked away. “It’s a good thing that you’ve redeemed yourself, Myth.”

Deep down, he’s also glad of that. A large part of it was actually due to the Princess snapping him to his senses; so he supposed that he owed her for his better life, among other things.

-

It was the day of the celebration, and Myth couldn’t have been more relieved of being done with his preparations.

The witch spent hours arranging decorations and testing enchantments - he’d even been roped into testing dishes by Annice, who’d wanted to make sure that the food was befitting a Christmas dinner.

Frankly, Myth thought that food tasted the same wherever one went; but he’d kept that sentiment unspoken, for the girl’s sake.

“Myth?” A voice called. “Are you going to the Marchen as well?”

He turned to see Lucette; she was dressed in a simple, elegant manner, with hair tied to the side as she’d always favoured. 

It’d taken Myth a moment to form a reply, but he does so smoothly enough. “It’s good to see you, Princess. And yes - I was invited, by some miracle.”

They fell into step beside each other. “I’m sure they don’t view you as harshly as you think.”

“You’re too kind,” Myth smiled at her. “But I think I’ve still got a ways to go.”

Lucette fixed him with her golden gaze - It’s slightly paralyzing, but not in a threatening way. “Stop that. Even if you’re unconvinced, I know for certain that you’ve changed.”

“Well, it’s mostly because of you that I was able to.”

“In that case,” She jested, “I suppose the hero of the story is Delora, for cursing me.”

Myth faced her exasperatedly. “You’re shifting the praise to her, now?”

Lucette shrugged, a smile on her face. “You started it.”

He shook his head, letting out a small laugh. “I guess I did.”

-

A short time later, they’ve arrived at Marchen. The warmth from the various spells he’d cast spreads throughout the building. Even steps away from the entrance the pair had been able to feel it.

“Before we go in, I think I should tell you something that I’d forgotten to mention earlier.”

Lucette lent him a curious look. “Okay…”

“You look even more beautiful than usual today, and I apologise for saying this so late in our encounter.” It was true, and he’d kick himself for it later on.

A light blush crept its way onto her face, and before Lucette was able to respond, the door flies open to reveal Annice. The younger girl beckoned them in hurriedly. “Oh my- I hope you two haven’t been out too long! It can get chilly after a while.”

“It’s no worry,” Myth assured her. 

He glanced at Lucette, trying to gauge her reaction towards the room. Lights were strewn around the windows, floating and twinkling like pixies. In the corner was a modestly-sized tree with presents underneath. The room also held other smaller elements, like paper-cut reindeer he’d enchanted to trot along the tables, and birds made of holly that would fly around and rest on the tree’s branches.

Speaking of which…

Myth placed a hand behind his back, silently casting a spell. One of the birds took on a light green glow; it flew towards them. As it did, a lily formed in its beak, which was offered to Princess as the creature stood on his outstretched palm.

“It isn’t the most extravagant present,” Myth started. “But I hope you like it.”

Lucette took the lily, studying it’s translucent petals. “You wove this together with snow?”

“It’s winter captured into a flower.” He spoke with a hint of pride. “The lily doesn’t melt either, unless you will it to.”

“I love it,” Lucette smiled softly. “Thank you.”

Her eyes sparkled as she’d spoken. It made him happy to see her like that.

As the celebration went on, Myth was surprised to find himself without an urge to leave. It was a new sensation, but he can’t say that it wasn’t a welcomed one.

Eventually, it came to a conversation with Delora. The purple-haired witch took a glance at the flower in the princess’ hands, and let out a smile. “You know, Princess. It was Myth who set this up.”

Lucette looked at him curiously. “So this is where you were yesterday.”

“Delora asked me, of all people. How could I refuse?” Myth said.

“Please, it took a while before he agreed.” Delora rolled her eyes. “I had to mention you before he’d said yes.”

That prompted a bit of redness from her cheeks, to which Delora suppressed a laugh.

“No need to be embarrassed, Princess.” Myth smiled fondly. “I’d do a lot for you - even if it’s something as tedious as this.”