#tbt later

[godresembled]

anyway he adores all of his children just as much as he adored/s their mothers

[courierspirits]

things that derp and sus have to communicate, post-film:

a letter board for sussie since they're too light to press the buttons

speech buttons for derpy

things that they actually use the communication tools for:

food ( derp )

no ( sus. has not touched the board since putting those letters there )

cuddles ( derp )

things they actually need the tools for:

none of it. they can communicate without them. sus thinks it's funnier not to and derp is just lazy.

[courierspirits]

what if i told you that derp and sus can both have the ability to communicate telepathically with people and they just simply choose not to? mainly because sus thinks it's funny and derp is just too lazy. but just know...they both can. they have full on convos with each other all the time.

[maidcest]

iv.

she didn't resent this life as much as you did. not until those 'forbidden texts' opened her mind and urged her heart to seek more.

more, more, more. more than her blessed existence as the crown princess. more than what's been handed to her on a silver platter.

...no, you did not resent her. not her previous shortsightedness. not her greed.

it was all 'simply the way things were meant to be' until then.

with enough time, patience, and ambition, a sovereign could twist the world on their fingertips - history said this much.

but tutors, scholars, your parents, their advisers, others... they surrounded her with their ambitions near-constantly. she didn't have the time or room for her own. and tradition - this is how it's been done for nearly two centuries.

you figured—if she was so set on soaking up the ambitions of others, she ought to be swayed by your own at some point, too.

...

in that secret place

dimly lit,

and far away

from their prying eyes

you'll twist those words and–

"lilium,"

you blink a couple times and refocus. she had been staring at you. how long had she been staring at you?

blessedly unfazed, she simply continues.

"do you think i'd make a good prince?"

,,,huh?

"...what?" you cringe slightly, "why would you ever want to be one of those?"

"... so i wouldn't?" she looks so unnecessarily upset... you quickly clarify.

"those are the ones that are usually kissing unconscious girls, putting themselves in unnecessary danger, and generally making situations in these books worse. sometimes dumb, usually graceless... right?"

"no, not in that way, silly..." she traces the pages gently. wistful. confusingly so.

"...it's what they represent. they're true freedom. they have the choice to pursue whatever they want, whoever they desire..."

for a moment, you hesitate.

yes, that's exactly what princes are. they answer that call to action when no one else can. pointless without them, princesses represent the world and achievement of the heart's ambitions in the same way they're treated like the 'ultimate prize' in those books...

ugh, it's nonsense anyway.

this is not a fairytale. in this life, sovereigns have the wealth and power to do anything. there's no use yearning for something so beneath her. her future is already so similar.

"you're a queen, you can do whatever you want. there's no reason for you to be a prince."

"then..." with a hum, she gives it some thought. you think. but she recovers too quickly. "then i'll choose to become my lilium's prince."

sent back in your head, you pause for far too long.

...it was simply something too foolish—even for her—to genuinely desire.

but you suppose... yes, you suppose this achieves the same thing you desire—your freedom. simply... more. you ought to agree.

...

nah, you're not getting caught up in some joke.

"yeah, okay." you pretend to humor her, rolling your eyes dismissively. she whines about 'meaning it truly' and smiles so brightly, giggles so freely... like every day, lately.

at least that's the end of it.

[maidcest]

iii.

eight winters ago, we found something life-changing in the royal library.

it was everything that could fill a future sovereign's head with foolishness.

i applaud the effort of our family to stifle us and our dreams that there could be more than what we had, but we were fortunately too clever. too sharp-minded. too...

too clumsy.

we had a tumble in the library, fell upon each other, and where my arm harshly collided, what was supposed to be a part of the shelf yielded. slowly rusing and dusting ourselves off, we simply... looked for more of those push-ins.

we could only silently work at it, communicating with gestures and expressions. we obviously weren't supposed to be poking around, but... puzzles like this have always been a calling to us.

the distinctive 'click' of the mechanism unlocking followed after about five more push-ins. (it had something to do with our earlier ancestors, or something.) with a grueling pull of the left side, the heavy bookshelf-now-door yielded...

and gaping darkness greeted us as we peered in.

so you scuttled over to the worktable to grab the oil lantern.

when you returned and lead the way, velvet-covered seatings caught our eyes. and pillows strewn about the cushions... old, melted candles... and a bit of dust. as if it were used for decadent, illicit comfort in the past. not at all like the rigid, practical study hall that we're used to...

an entire sealed off wing...!

when you shone your light towards the opposite wall, you revealed... books! lining the wall down the entire hall...

well, of course, we were still in a library... but we immediately noticed that they seemed... different. perhaps it was the pictures on the covers, the cutesy and ornate spines... or how a quick flip through these texts had no familiar semblance to anyone in our world.

nothing of religious theory, not laws, no academia...

it only had all the classics, though we didn't know them to be—Lanterns of the Fairy Queen, The Oath of Light, Whispers of the Forgotten Realms... and so many, many more.

we weren't supposed to be there. and that was all the more reason to keep the knowledge of our discovery to ourselves and leave with books in our arms!

on that night, under the covers and far too late for two young princesses to be so wide awake... we had our first reading session.

we lucked out on our first book – it was a *compilation* of fairytales.

of distraught princesses and silly creatures... fools of many kinds... loves of many kinds. we read quite quickly. these books were nothing particularly *difficult* after all,

but here, we learned the forbidden concepts of 'love at first sight', 'happily ever after', 'star-crossed lovers'... they were all so curious. they weren't even factors in any of our assignments. or mine, at least.

could such things truly exist?

...

i have no room to wonder now.

[maidcest]

ii.

you noted that the head maid never mentioned a close niece up until that day of hire. it could've been a coincidence then... but there were far too many red flags after.

...

despite this maid's bangs covering an eye, she was sharp and dextrous. charismatic at times. efficient in spite of her seeming frailty. and... eerie. hauntingly so.

even if you're the only one who's suspicious and there's otherwise no proof that she's not a maid, you know better. in fact, you've decided she's at most a maidthing. an it-thing that can't be explained.

you finally open your eyes. in the privacy of the garden and the company of only the maidthing, there's no need to fix the scowl.

"...what?"

"i brought you the tea you requested."

you know by the scent of it. "peppermint tea. i don't believe i sent you to bring tea..."

"you were speaking with your face again, of course," your scowl deepens, and her lips curve into a rueful grin. "see? there it is again... another headache?"

of course 'another headache'... and the maidthing's persistence never made it any better.

"...creepy as always."

the maidthing doesn't respond to it, taking silent amusement as always. it sits across from you at the table, sipping tea... citron. it drinks nothing other than citron, just like...

"i don't care if you've learned it by being at my side all this time. it's annoying when you decide things on your own."

"a day like this is to be enjoyed, my princess... it wouldn't do to have a late start to it."

slippery. always toeing the line. especially that smile, when it should be bowing its head. apologizing. even the head maid would.

"i always have headaches when you're around. it can't be helped by tea,"

"but you always look so relieved afterwards..." you make no comment as you begrudgingly lift the cup of tea to your lips. another win for the maidthing. "...i've noticed a bit of growing tension, you're right. has my service been lacking?"

"you're hiding something, and i'm sick of pretending this is normal."

it's as if time stops—the maidthing's movements halt, cup suspended without taking a sip. but when it raises its eyes to finally meet yours, something has changed about them.

"...it's true. i haven't been completely upfront about my past. i've wanted to tell you, but..." it silently places its cup down on the saucer and rises from its chair. "...we must talk about this in a more private area. it has to do with—"

"her."

you were just trying to verbalize your awareness, but perhaps you said it with more hostility than necessary. yet that sickly sweet grin it always makes—it's there. any guilt you felt in that moment dissipated.

"that's right."

you had frayed nerves before, but you practically bristle at what you can only perceive as cheek. especially as it slowly rounds the table, towards you.

"i could run. scream. i could report this to my father. he'd have you in chains for your involvement–"

it shakes its head and bends to gingerly take your hands in its own.

"you can always trust your maid, my princess. i promise you this with my life."

the maidthing makes no sense, yet you can't bring yourself to snatch your hands away. you don't know why, at least in the moment...

"...fine."

[maidcest]

i.

it has been 3 years since the death of your older sister.

...

you remember when the entire kingdom practically tore itself apart in grief. all attendees of the ball were thoroughly scrutinized. the servants were investigated for treason and negligence.

in the end... the world is full of injustice. there was no additional trace of the poison that she had ingested.

there wasn't enough evidence to do more than fire or at worst jail a great number of servants for negligence. even the previous handmaiden resigned in shame. it was suspicious at first, especially as no one asked her to. but she was cleared of wrongdoing with her solid alibi—she was sent off to fetch an attendee at your father's behest.

the most the crown could do from then was watch their remaining princess carefully, teach them well, guard them dutifully, and adore them fervently.

bothersome. tiresome.

you lived in her shadow before, but in many ways, her death smothered much of the light that remained in you.

after all, you were to be groomed into the queen that she was meant to be. everything was harder.

you despise her for this. you miss her.

you [l̵͛̉̍͗o̸̓̽̿͠v̷̈̅̈̉è̶̊͋͑d̵̅͆͌̈] her.

sometimes you forget that you live in the present.

"princess?"

the scowl of your brow was noticed.

the voice was familiar by now that you needn't even open your eyes. it was introduced as the head maid's niece—your new handmaiden.

[blindfoldcd]

What's that? Who's that? Who's stumbling and tripping and now flat on the ground?

That's right.

A redhead with a scarf and an eyepatch.

She had heard him coming, of course (who couldn’t, when one is none too graceful in their approach), yet elects to ignore it as she continues reading the book balanced in her palm. Once she hears a thud just feet from where she sits, the book is moved aside and bright blue eyes rest on the heap that is Bookman junior, unamused.

Miya blinks slowly, just once, before raising an eyebrow. “Careful, your grace, your shoe is untied. Wouldn’t want you to trip or something.”