Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

“Penelope Bunce.”

I close my textbook when I hear Ms Posibelf call my name. It’s time to present my final project to her and I’m seconds away from just booking it out the door. The only thing stopping me is the fear of losing my reputation as second-best in our year (one of these days I will surpass Pitch) (there’s no way his spell even comes close to exceeding mine). I just have to get through this project.

Yippee. [Insert sarcastic jazz hands here]

Since we’re in our eighth year, we're expected to create our own spell and test it in class. Fortunately, everyone else is busy working out the final kinks in their own projects so if something goes wrong it shouldn’t be glaringly obvious to anyone not paying attention. Unless you were to, like, summon fifty blood-thirsty flibbertigibbets after your spell backfires.

Looking at you, Gareth.

The list is in alphabetical order so my turn comes relatively quickly but luckily for me, I’ve spent months perfecting my spell and I am nearly 70% certain it’ll be mostly fine. Simon will forgive me, surely. Maybe. Some day.

If you’re wondering why Simon would need to forgive me, well. Just keep reading. It’ll be explained shortly.

Anyways.

I take a deep breath and rise out of my seat, smoothing out my skirt before stepping forward. Ms Posibelf raises her eyebrows and smiles slightly when she makes eye contact with me. That’s probably a good sign.

Or a bad one, if the spell backfires. She obviously expects a lot from you.

I don’t have to worry about those thoughts for long because before I know it I’m standing in front of her desk, my notebook clutched in my hands. She nods to me once before looking down at a grading sheet on her desk.

“Ms Bunce. Are you ready to show me your spell?” I take a deep breath.

“I believe so.” She smiles again and I instantly feel a little more calm.

“Very well. Let’s begin, then.” The panic comes rushing back and I take a moment to shove it back down. Panic later, focus on the project now. Presentation is everything here. Ms Posibelf clears her throat lightly and takes a look at the sheet in front of her. “I’m going to start by asking a few questions, then you will demonstrate your spell to me.” I nod, biting the inside of my cheek. That doesn’t seem too bad. I glance around the room and see Basilton watching me with an intense stare. Great. No pressure. Wonderful. When he notices my eyes on him he shifts his expression to look just nearly bored or detached and turns away, saying something to his minions. That’s right. Minions. I have literally heard him call them that. God forbid the great Tyrannus Basilton Grimm-Pitch has friends.

I’m pulled out of my thoughts by Ms Posibelf’s voice. “Explain what your spell is designed to hopefully accomplish. Use as many details as possible.” I take another deep breath.

“Well, my spell is called A Dream Is A Wish Your Heart Makes. In short, when someone casts this spell on another magical being, that being will immediately be drawn towards their soulmate in a way sorta similar to the Crucible.” Ms Posibelf raises an eyebrow and looks like she’s going to interrupt but I keep talking. “Or, if you don’t believe in soulmates, it’s the person your consciousness feels most connected to.” She nods once and I sigh with relief. Then she starts asking more questions.

“What happens when they meet?” This is the part I’m worried about. Not it working-- no, I know I’m smart enough to get it right. Hopefully. I’m more worried about her not thinking I can pull it off.

“Well, they are, in essence, pulled into an alternate universe of sorts.” I see a glint of hesitation in her eyes and backtrack quickly. “It’s not real, it won’t affect any other timelines or anything like that.” She seems to relax a bit and I take that as a sign to carry on. “The spell brings them to… Well… Have you ever seen Disney movies?” The corner of her lips twitch upwards.

“Ms Bunce I hope you aren’t insinuating that I am too old to know who Walt Disney is.” My eyes widen and I wave my hands around quickly, shaking my head.

“No, no no no. Nothing like that. I just… Well. The fairytales, the ones with the princes and princesses, the classics. Those are what the spells hook onto, since they deal specifically with love.” She nods again. “So, it will transport the two people into one of those worlds. The only requirement is for both of them to have heard of the tale. Even if it was a different variation of the story, anything will count. So, for example, if one of them saw the Disney movie Tangled and the other’s heard of even just the Brothers Grimm fable then Rapunzel is a possible outcome as to where they will land.” She looks like she’s thinking it over and furrows her eyebrows.

“So, what happens once they enter the story? Won’t they be disoriented, or even defensive?” I nod, already having expected this question. Thank Merlin.

“When they first get pulled into the spell’s hold they will show up in some sort of blank, neutral place. A hologram-type version of myself will explain the situation and tell them that they must stick to the story. Maybe threaten their mortality a bit.” Ms Posibelf breathes out what might be a laugh, but very well could also just be a small sigh. I honestly can’t tell. “So, then, they’ll get transported into a tale they both recognize. From there, they have to make their way through the story as accurately as possible. If they don’t nothing will really happen, but they won’t know that.” She nods again, pursing her lips as she thinks it over.

“Why bother putting them into this fairytale world, when their consciousness is already connected on a deep or personal level?” I snap my fingers, pointing at the ceiling like I was waiting for her to ask that question. Which I was. I’m anything if not always prepared.

“For this reason exactly. Say the two people don’t know each other yet, or worse, hate each other. They won’t think about it like being brought to their one true love, they’ll think it’s some spell gone wrong and carry on with their days as if nothing ever happened once they’re pulled together. With my spell, they’re forced to work together and understand each other on a personal level if they wish to get out of the simulation of sorts.” Ms Posibelf looks like she’s holding back a smile and she leans over her desk slightly, putting her pen down.

“What happens if the story ends and they haven’t accepted their feelings? Do they just leave the tale?” I shake my head, tapping the eraser to my pencil against my lip while I think of how to phrase it.

“Technically, no. They do leave that particular story, but they’re put into another fairy tale similar to that one. So, using my previous example, they could start with Rapunzel-- or Tangled, I guess-- and if by the end of that story they still haven’t reached the requirements for leaving the simulation then they will be ejected into, say, The Little Mermaid. This will continue until both participants understand and accept their hearts’ greatest desires.” I could be wrong, but I think I might actually see a glint of pride in Ms Posibelf’s eyes. She clears her throat again and folds her hands in front of her, resting them on her desk.

“This is very advanced. You’re certain it will work?” I nod emphatically. She raises her eyebrows. “And how will you know that the two are actually in the simulation?” I grin, reaching back to pull the small handheld mirror out of the bottomless pocket I spelled into my skirt. Magical brilliance on my part, I won’t lie. I put one pocket into all of my bottoms when I realized the female uniforms didn’t have any. It’s on the right side, right where you’d find a pocket on a pair of jeans, but it’s invisible to anyone who isn’t looking for it. Flashing the compact mirror, I explain.

“This mirror is spelled to show me everything that happens if I recite the iconic line from Snow White and the Seven Dwarfs. I will get a live video feed of whomever’s name I say after the phrase and I can switch between the two as much as I please. It’s like watching a movie but I control who’s visible on camera at what time. They don’t know I’m watching, though. It would skew the data if they were constantly aware of my possible intrusion.” Okay, now I know there’s at least a little pride there. I beam, stuffing the mirror in my pocket again. She taps her pen against the desk a few times before marking something on her paper.

“How do you know this won’t backfire? Nearly every single spell doesn’t work for this project so students tend to keep them relatively mundane. This could have some serious repercussions should something go wrong.” I nod slowly.

“I’ve thought about that. When I was looking through past spells from this project I noticed the only ones that were successful were the big ones. The smaller spells rarely worked, and if they did they were made by incredibly advanced and powerful magicians.” Ms Posibelf looks on approvingly and puts her pen down again, clapping once.

“Wonderful answer. I think I’m ready to see this spell.” She looks around before frowning. “Wait, how are you going to test it? Do you have someone who’s consented to helping?” I don’t answer, instead turning around to face Simon, who’s resting his chin in his hand on his desk, looking seconds away from falling asleep as he stares at the opposite wall.

Perfect.

“Hey Simon, can you come here?” I call out, stifling a laugh when his hand jerks out from under his head and it falls before popping back up just as fast. He looks around wildly, looking for me, then grins brightly and hops up, bounding over to Ms Posibelf’s desk. I see Baz tracking his movements across the room with an unreadable expression and hold back the urge to roll my eyes. Their petty rivalry was (possibly literally, someday) killing everyone who had to watch. Simon reaches the desk and startles me out of my thoughts. Again.

“Hey Pen!” I smile.

“You’re still up for helping me with my spell, right?” He nods quickly and I internally sigh in relief. None of this would work if he had for some reason changed his mind. I had explained the bare minimum to him (so as not to sabotage the data) so all he knew was that it would take the person and their soulmate to some fairytale story. He thought it sounded like right fun. Not to mention that he was absolutely certain he’d be connected to Agatha. I don’t think so, but I didn’t say so to him because it’s not my business, no matter how terrible they are for each other. I just have to hope some other poor girl is dragged out of her class or something.

“Yep!” He says, bouncing in place, and I grin at his enthusiasm. Ms Posibelf speaks for the first time since Simon came over.

“Let’s start then, shall we?” I nod and adjust my ring slightly, pointing it directly at Simon’s chest. He just beams down at me, his face open and trusting. I try not to wince. It feels wrong to cast an untested spell on him and the fact that he has no doubts is going to make it so much worse if it fails-- No. Don’t think like that. It’ll be fine. I take yet another deep breath.

“A Dream Is A Wish Your Heart Makes!”

Chapter Text

Baz

I would like to think I have an awful lot of self control. After all, it takes nearly all of it to keep myself in check nearly every day, what with being a vampire and loving my greatest enemy. I guess it’s my own fault for falling for an idiot like Simon Snow, who is convinced he hates me. Not that I don’t hate him. I just hate him for not liking me.

Aleister Crowley. I’m fucked, aren’t I? Don’t answer that.

Luckily (or unluckily, I haven’t decided yet), Snow is an oblivious idiot. I’d bet I could push him up against the wall and snog him senseless and he’d still accuse me of plotting something. Then he’d kill me. I can’t believe that numpty genuinely believes I can kill him. As if I’m the living powerhouse. Right.

So yes, I’d like to believe I have gained some form of impulse control to keep myself in check over the years. Unfortunately, I do have my moments where I can’t help but stare. Like now, as he’s bumbling up to Bunce like the uncoordinated mess he is. His curls catch in the light like a goddamn film and I’m just supposed to sit here, unbothered? I may be undead but even I can only take so much.

Bunce is presenting her spell to Ms Posibelf. I know for a fact it’s going to be brilliant, I could see the pride on Posibelf’s face from my seat towards the back of the classroom. At the moment she’s pointing her ring at Simon and I really shouldn’t be so surprised she’s using him as her test dummy. He has enough magic to survive any backlash should the spell fail.

Niall turns in his seat in front of me. “How much do you wanna bet it backfires?” I smirk, resting my forearms on my desk.

“I’d--” I get cut off when some invisible force violently pulls me forward, throwing me into the edge of my desk. I curse and look around quickly, trying to find out what the fuck just happened. I make eye contact with Simon from across the room and scowl before another jolt shoves me forward. Bracing my hands into the edge of the wood, I take a few deep breaths. It could be anything. Who knows what’s happening? It’s fine. Completely fine.

“Baz, you good mate?” Dev asks from his seat behind me. Of course I am, why would you ask such a silly question? I just LOVE getting the air knocked out of my lungs by some unseen force- I try to turn around but the --something-- comes back and pulls me forward again, this time not letting up when I once again ram my stomach into the corner of the desk. Because THAT feels absolutely wonderful.

I’m ripped out of my seat and the desk makes a god-awful screeching sound as it slides a few inches to the side from my impact. I wrap my arms around my waist and take a couple more steadying breaths. It's fine. It's fine, it's fine, everything is FINE--

Halfway through the third inhale the force returns, tugging me forward a few steps. It feels uncannily like the Crucible, just a little more intense, and I hate it. I hate it so much. Everyone’s staring at me now, and I try to stand up straighter (as if I could do anything straight) if only to spare some of my dignity.

I get tugged forward again and grit my teeth, trying to pull myself back to my seat, but I can’t move anywhere but forwards. A small yelp sounds from the front of the room and I look up, making eye contact with Simon, who is also holding his midsection, a few steps closer than he was before. Oh, fuck no. 

He cranes his head around to look desperately at Bunce and it clicks. This is her fault. I glare at her and open my mouth to accuse her of tying me into her obviously backfired spell but a rather sharp pull drags me forward a few more steps. The same happens to Simon, who whips his head around to look at me with what is quite possibly fear. I don’t blame him. Not really. I’m sure I look downright murderous and some unseen force is dragging him closer to me.

Simon turns his head again after he’s pulled another step closer.

“Penny! What’s happening?!” She just squints, like she’s trying to solve some complex equation mentally, and after a few seconds of staring at both of us it seems to click in her mind.

“Oh, bloody hell. I should have seen this coming a long time ago.” Simon and I share an incredulous look before realizing who we were sharing said look with and averting our eyes. I turn my glare back to her.

“Care to share with the cla-AH--” Once again I’m cut off by the invisible force, stronger than ever. The same seems to be happening to Simon, who looks like he’s being tugged forward on a string, losing his balance every other step. I take another step forward against my will and am terrified to realize we’re only about five feet away from each other. What happens when we meet in the middle?

“Sorry!” Bunce cries out, and something tells me she isn’t talking to me.

“Penny!” Simon screeches, and normally I’d tease him for the high pitched screaming, but he looks like he’s being dragged forward by a semi truck while attached to a rope, barreling towards me with flailing arms. I try to step back because if he doesn’t slow down he’s literally going to crash into me but I’m rooted to the spot. Fuck, fuck fuck fuckfuckFUCK--

I brace myself as he stumbles into me and I swear to Merlin my heart nearly fails. His arms almost instinctively wrap around my waist and without thinking (because I’m weak, confused, and my bloody crush is basically hugging me) my arms wind around his shoulders as we fall backwards. Both of us grow very tense as we wait to feel the hard ground and I squeeze my eyes shut but it never comes. We just keep falling, down through the floor.

My eyes blink open and I nearly scream at what I see. Or rather, don’t see. It looks like a giant white void with no walls, ceiling, and most importantly at the moment, floor. I take a shaky breath, trying desperately to think of possible floating spells that will hold both of us.

Wait. Both of us. Simon. Shit.

My thoughts come to a screeching halt as I glance down at him. His face is buried in my shoulder so I can only really see his curls and he’s digging his short nails into my back through the fabric of my blazer. I allow myself approximately four seconds to live in the fantasy that is holding Simon Snow in my arms before going back to the problem at hand.

I pull out my wand and cast “Float like a butterfly!” but nothing happens. Why didn’t that work? Maybe we were too heavy? I take a steadying breath and go through every single levitation or floating spell off the top of my head. None of them work.

Why aren’t any of them working?!

“Oh god, oh god--” Simon’s whispering under his breath. I start casting faster, ignoring the fact that we are free-falling for who knows how long with no way of telling when we’ll hit the ground. I tighten my hold on him and bury my nose into his curls because dammit if I’m going to die I want to indulge myself at least a little bit.

“Think, think,” I mutter, trying to find any spells that will work. I can’t think of anything. I can’t think of any spells, and we’re probably going to die, and I won’t have even been able to thank Bunce for allowing me to go out like this, with Simon semi-willingly in my arms.

Maybe I’ll visit her through the Veil.

Before I can dive into those thoughts, Simon and I jerk to a stop. The surface we land on is nothing like the actual ground and it feels sort of similar to what I would assume a solidified cloud feels like. I sit up, watching Simon flinch a few feet away from me as though he’d expect me to bite him or something and feel what could very possibly be disappointment.

Disappointed for not dying in his arms, that’s a new one.

“Hello.” We both let out small shrieks when Bunce’s voice sounds from in front of us. All of the blood from my trip to the catacombs the previous night rises to my face when I look up at her, if only to avoid meeting Simon’s stare.

“Pen- Penny?” Simon asks, his voice shaking. Bunce shakes her head with a small smile.

“No, Si. I’m a hologram. You’re in my spell, remember?” Simon nods to himself like that’s just an acceptable answer to that entire statement. Hell, being best friends with her, it might be.

“What spell?” I ask, wasting no time. Bunce-the-Hologram shifts her focus to me.

“It’s my final project. Called A Dream Is A Wish Your Heart Makes. I have to admit, I was not expecting it to be you at first, but it makes sense.” I raise one eyebrow, then squint at her.

“What does the spell do? Where are we? Why wouldn’t what be me?” She smiles again, looking patient and serene. I feel the urge to punch her. Or set her on fire. Or bite her face off. She’s not real, so technically it wouldn’t be an actual casualty, right?

“Right now you both are in a neutral plane of existence. As for the other two questions, I can’t tell you, as it would mess with the data. The only thing you need to know is that you two absolutely cannot change the plot. You must follow the story line as accurately as possible, or else there may be lethal consequences.”

“Lethal?!” Both Simon and I scream. She nods gravely.

“This is an untested spell. Nobody knows what’s going to happen. You must follow it directly. While the real Penny can’t monitor you or know if you break character and change the tale, the spell definitely will and it could possibly kill one of you. I don’t know if it will bring you out of the spell perfectly fine since instead of just falling asleep when you crashed into each other you actually fell into the world physically. Don’t risk it, just work together to reach happily ever after.” With that she smiled and vanished. I stood up, running a hand through my hair.

“WHAT DOES THAT MEAN?! AND WHAT ‘HAPPILY EVER AFTER?’” I try to stay calm as I wait for her to come back but the more seconds go by in silence the more I start to lose it. Are we going to be stuck in this “neutral plane” forever? What story? Or tale? Breaking character? We could die?! I start to feel lightheaded as I pull on my hair, hyperventilating.

For a brief moment I consider trying to calm myself down a little bit because I never freak out like this when others are around me (especially Simon) but eventually decide against it. At this point I don’t care if he sees me break down. We’re just going to die anyways! I let out a slightly manic laugh that quickly dissolves into a small sob as I turn in circles, looking for something, anything, that isn’t just blank white.

Two hands press into my shoulders and I flinch away, tripping over my feet and falling backwards a few steps. A muffled voice calls my name but I turn away, covering my ears. The silence was somehow deafening and I can't focus on anything but the emptiness surrounding me. I'm going to be stuck here forever, no escape, no last goodbyes. Mother would be so disappointed, death by a spell my enemy's best friend decided to test on me. The hands came back, turning me around and pulling my own hands away.

“-az. Baz!” I gasp and open my eyes-- when did I close my eyes?-- and blink away tears. Simon sighs a little in what looks like relief when he sees me responding to him and I take a moment to accept that he just witnessed that little breakdown. Not only witnessed it, but tried to snap me out of it multiple times. A warm feeling blooms in my chest before I quickly push it back down and back away from him, hugging myself tightly. Not now, dammit! Also who tries to stop a panic attack by grabbing the person for fucks sake?!

“Sorry. I didn’t… I just…” I huff in frustration. I never lose my words, that’s Simon’s thing. I think I teased him about it this morning. He seems to be thinking the same thing, because he grins at me.

“Use your words, Baz.” I glare halfheartedly and turn away, sniffing.

“Shut up, Snow. I can’t… I don’t… fuck.” I run a hand through my hair and growl slightly. “Is this what it feels like to be you all the time?” I think he nods, or maybe shrugs. That idiot and shrugging, I swear to Merlin one day he’s going to pop his collarbone out of place. Or maybe I’ll do it for him. It’s infuriating--

“Yeah, pretty much.” I scoff, wiping my face quickly with my sleeve. Absolutely disgusting.

“Well, that sucks.” I wince at how rude that sounded and waiting for the typical “Sod off, Baz.” or maybe a “Fuck you too, then.” but I’m surprised to hear a small laugh.

“It does.” I turn around to face him.

“You know why we’re here, don’t you?” I ask. “I mean, she’s your best friend. Surely she’s talked about her project nonstop to you?” He shrugs (go fucking figure) and drops to the "floor" crossing his legs. I curl my lip and turn away again. How is he so calm? Did he miss the whole “death” part of Bunce’s speech?

“I’m gonna be honest, I wasn’t really listening.” I exhale sharply through my nose.

“You just… weren’t listening?” I see him shrug from the corner of my eye and resist the urge to shake his shoulders until his head falls off.

“I dunno. It’s all very complicated.” He spreads his arms out wide and looks around. “Obviously.” His voice echoes and I carefully sit down as well, pulling my knees to my chest.

“So this is it.” I stare into the void with a blank face. “We’re going to die in a never ending plane of existence that doesn’t actually exist because your friend dragged me into one of your problems. Wonderful.” I drop backwards and throw my arms out, staring up at nothing. “I didn’t even get to say goodbye to anyone.” I whisper, thinking about my family.

Not my father necessarily, no. He didn’t give two shits about me, not really. When he found out that not only was I a vampire (I still don’t know if vampires can have children) but also that I was hopelessly gay and therefore had no chance of passing down the Pitch name he just gave up.

I’m thinking about everyone else. My stepmother. Fiona. My siblings. Mordelia won’t take the news well, I know it. She acts like a little monster but she loves me more than any of our siblings and we both know it. To find out that I died because I was projected into an untested spell on accident, well. I don’t know what that’ll do to her.

Then there’s Dev and Niall. I’d like to think they’d miss me, even just a little bit. I’m a right asshole sometimes (most of the time), but we’re close enough for them to feel some sort of sorrow.

“I’m sorry.” I turn my head to find Simon watching me, his chin resting on his knees and his arms wrapped around his shins. He looks… tired. Like he’s already accepted this entire thing. I raise an eyebrow.

“What for?” He blushes and looks down at his knees. Strange.

“It’s probably my fault you’re here.” I scrunch my nose, squinting up at him.

“What are you talking about? This was Bunce’s spell. Although the purpose of it still remains unclear.” I add bitterly, glaring up at the never ending void again.

Crowley, is this how I’m going out? Glaring at absolutely nothing?

“No, I mean--” Simon reaches up and tugs at his curls. I track the movement lazily with my eyes, watching his face pull into a scowl as he struggles to spit out the words. “Her spell. It was supposed to-- gAAH!” He breaks off into a shout as the “floor” under us vanishes, just like Bunce-the-Hologram, and we start free-falling again.

I reach out blindly for something to hold onto, something I know won’t be there, and gasp once before everything goes dark. Faintly, I think I hear Bunce’s voice, echoing throughout the emptiness, without magic.

A dream is a wish your heart makes.

Penny

Everyone was silent when they fell through the solid floor and vanished, just staring for a good forty seconds. Then Ms Posibelf cleared her throat.

“Get back to work, please.” They all turn to stare at her incredulously, everyone speaking at once. I'm pretty sure Niall asks her if she's "gone completely batshit?!" which immediately earns him one of her fiercest glares.

She quiets everybody else with a single look and they reluctantly settle back down, all collectively deciding to not even look in the direction of that one section on the floor. As if just by looking at it they themselves would go hurtling into the void. Ms Posibelf turns to face me with a glint of honest-to-Merlin amusement in her eyes. “Can we make sure they’re in the spell right now?” She nods towards my pocket and I pull out the mirror, walking around the desk to stand beside her. 

“ Mirror Mirror.”   The reflection of our faces ripples then disappears completely, fogging up before clearing out and showing the two of them, sitting about four feet apart and staring at the hologram of myself.

Simon looks slightly confused and keeps glancing over at Baz, who looks both terrified and pissed. Like, seconds-away-from-going-feral-on-my-hologram pissed. Then I vanish and Baz screams something up at the abyss above them, Simon watching from the same distance as before with a worried expression.

That’s the only low point in this entire spell. I couldn’t figure out a way to transfer the audio through the mirror, only the visuals. Oh well.

Ms Posibelf taps her pen against her desktop and watches the mirror closely. “So, why aren’t they in the first story now?” I let out a small sigh of relief. I was nervous she’d make me try to remove them from the spell’s hold. I don’t know what she’d say if I had to tell her that I hadn’t really figured that part out yet. (I didn’t think it would be necessary). Now that I know it’s working I think I have a chance at getting a perfect grade. 

“The spell gives them a second to process the information before dropping them into the first fairy tale. Get their bearings and such.” Just as I stop talking the floor opens up and they start falling again, vanishing from sight. I smile.

“It’s starting.”

Chapter Text

Simon

“Your Highness, it’s time to wake up. You have the fitting this morning.” I jerk up into a sitting position, glancing around the room.

“Hmgh, what?” I ask, rubbing a hand over my face. My eyes feel heavy, like I’ve been asleep for hours instead of just lying in this bed for a few seconds. My vision blurs in and out for a second before settling on the person who woke me up. A very familiar person.

“Premal?” Premal gives me a strange look before bowing slightly and walking out the door without another word. I run a hand through my hair and tug on it lightly. Baz always makes fun of me for doing it.

I slide out of the bed and three people I don’t know walk in, carrying random fabrics. Trailing after them is a man in a really fancy outfit, looking like a king from the medieval times.

“My son,” the man starts, and I pause. Wait. Premal called me ‘Your Highness’ and now this king-looking guy is calling me his son. Maybe Penny’s spell didn’t backfire? I shake my head, and the thought, away. That’s ridiculous. If it didn’t backfire, then why is Baz here with me instead of Agatha?

The king-guy from earlier speaks up again, capturing my attention. “As you know, the ball is tomorrow night.” I pause. Ball? If what I caught from Penny’s vague description is right, we’re in some sort of Disney fairytale. But which one has a ball in it?

The king starts talking again. “I know you don’t want to talk about this. I actually have to believe you don’t even like thinking about this,” I nod, even though I’m completely lost. A voice in my head, sounding strangely similar to Baz, whispers “When are you not?” but luckily the man continues without prompting, distracting me from my thoughts.

“But you do need to consider finding a partner tonight. The entire kingdom is invited, I’m sure someone will catch your eye. Someone suitable for marriage.” I manage to keep my jaw from dropping and internally laugh to myself. See, Baz? I can look calm and collected too. I blink up at the king.

“Marriage?” I stutter out. In my head I’m racking my mind, trying to think of which story requires a ball a few days after the tale begins. One that involves a prince looking for a partner. The king shakes his head.

“I know you don’t want to think that far into the future, but I’m not going to live forever. I would like to meet the person who will be ruling alongside you when you take over the kingdom one day.” I look down at my hands.

“Alright.” I’m not sure what else to say. The king smiles and I think I may have done the right thing. Thank god.

“I will leave the servants to fit you for the ball.” He awkwardly nods and backs out the door, like he wants to say more but doesn’t quite know what. I can relate.

“Your Highness,” one of the servants murmurs, gesturing to a raised section of the floor in the far corner of the spacious room, surrounded by three body-length mirrors. I make my way over and step onto the pedestal, letting the others get to work. Meanwhile, my mind wanders to the place it always seems to go when I have nothing else to think about.

Where’s Baz?

Baz

Remind me to kill Bunce when I get out of this hellhole.  

No, first I’m going to thank her for those few precious seconds of holding Simon in my arms, then let me kill her. Painfully. And slowly. 

I woke up on the floor. You read that right. The floor. Like an animal. A filthy, sooty animal. Literally. I am covered head to toe in chimney soot. Which would make sense, since I woke up on the floor freezing my arse off by the fireplace. Which leads me to wonder-- Where the bloody hell am I?

The last thing I remember is dropping through the ground again (I should not be able to say again in this situation) and my vision fading out. I immediately notice the absence of my wand but before I can dwell on that worrying fact I hear a muffled shout.

“Basilton! Get over here, now!” I hurry to my feet and have to steady myself against the mantle to keep myself upright, hit with a strong dizzy spell. “ Basilton!” I wince and stumble into the next room, where the voice was coming from. Inside a dining room area stood… the Mage?

He turns to face me and I scowl instinctively. It’s definitely the Mage. “Finally.” He glares at me. “You look absolutely disgusting.” I refrain from rolling my eyes. Something we can finally agree on. “Go make breakfast for your step sisters and I, you selfish brat.” I wrinkle my nose. Unprompted insulting? Who spit in his coffee this morning? And make breakfast? My sisters are most definitely NOT here right now. Wherever ‘here’ is.

I move to pass him but he grabs my wrist, digging his (disgusting) nails into my skin. “Yes?” I grit out, trying not to show how much it hurts. Because holy fucking shit it hurts a lot-- He curls his lip at me.

“You’re such a burden. I don’t know why I shouldn’t just kick you out of here, never to be seen again.” I stay silent, avoiding eye contact, and flinch when he snaps directly by my face. What the actual fuck is happening? “You look at me when I’m talking to you, got it?” I gasp softly and look up at him, nodding. His grip on my wrist tightens. Fucking. Ow.

“Yes,” I hiss. He glares harder.

“Yes?” I blink a couple times. His breath is horrid. Like if a cow ate dog shit, then shit that, then ate the shit again. 

“Yes, sir .” I force the word out, trying not to lose my temper. He smiles and lets my arm go. The sudden change in demeanor unnerves me more than I’d like to admit. 

“Carry on, then. I expect breakfast to be done in ten minutes.” I blanch. Ten minutes? For four people? I turn and rush back the way I came, somehow finding the kitchen. As I hurry through making a semi-decent meal I let my mind wander. What the hell is happening? Why am I making breakfast for two people I haven’t met yet? Why is the Mage low-key abusive? I freeze. Does he treat Simon like this?

Even just the thought makes me slightly sick. And the knowledge that I clearly haven’t eaten in two days. I don’t eat during meal times and Simon seems to be reverting back to his irritating fifth year habits, refusing to leave me alone long enough to eat in private. It’s infuriating.

I don’t think my vampirism passed into this universe, if the lack of bloodlust is anything to go by. The dizziness from earlier felt purely hunger-related, not the blood craving type I got when I went too long without feeding. That’s a huge relief, because I’m positive I saw a mouse whispering to a bird earlier and I don’t think I could really bear draining a conscientious, self-aware creature. I’m not that cruel. 

“Are you done yet? I’m starved.” A whiny voice calls from the next room. It sounds vaguely familiar but I can immediately rule out my own sisters. I grab the trays I set up and carry them out to the dining room from earlier. Passing into the threshold I nearly drop the food, shocked still by who I see sitting at the table. Philippa Stainton glares at me from across the room, crossing her arms over her chest. My eyes shift over to the other girl sitting across from her. None other than Agatha Wellbelove. Of fucking course it’s her. 

I paste a tight smile onto my face and set the trays in front of them, dropping my eyes to the floor when the Mage walks in, taking a seat at the head of the table. He watches me for a second before literally shooing me out of the room with his hands. He rolls his eyes when I continue standing across the table, clueless as to what he’s asking. Or rather, why. Eventually he huffs and glares at me.

“We will call you back when we are finished and you can clean up. You may go.” I frown.

“And why wouldn’t I eat?” He stares at me, incredulous. Then Agatha starts giggling softly, setting Philippa off into an obnoxious, snorting laughter that makes even the Mage cringe. She doesn’t seem to notice, slapping the tabletop in her obvious joy. 

“Y-You? Eat with us? Oh, Basilton. You’re funny. You got me there.” She starts snickering again and I squint at her. 

“Why would that be funny?” Agatha clears her throat prettily and smiles at me, wide and shark-like. 

“Why, because you’re just a lowly servant. I mean, sure, your mother owned the estate and all before she was tragically murdered,” she says, waving her fork in the air lazily, as if the words didn’t make me want to curl up by the stupid fireplace and cry. “But it’s ours now. Once you’re of legal age, we have the right to kick you out, once and for all.” She gives me a funny look. “But you already knew that.”

I shake my head and back out of the room, wandering through the halls, trying not to think about whatever the hell they’re talking about. I find a winding, dark staircase leading up to an attic space and make my way up. 

Once I reach the wooden door I pause, then push it open, coughing at the dust that flies up when it hits the wall behind it. The space is mostly empty, with a few boxes and miscellaneous furniture items left laying around the outskirts of the room.

I collapse onto a dusty futon and cough again before settling down and staring at the skylight in the ceiling. It’s a stained glass portrait, oddly enough. In the picture is a clearish blue heel held in a pair of hands extending towards a foot. I sigh, staring up at it in a daze, before it clicks in my mind. 

Evil “stepsisters” and the Mage. The inheritance of the house. The death of a parent. Sleeping by the sooty fireplace. Crowley. I’m... Cinderella? No, no. That’s not possible. It makes no sense. I stand and start pacing across the room, throwing open the faded curtains covering the large window. Then again, I don’t know what Bunce’s spell was. It very well could have put Snow and I into a story. But a Disney tale? I stalk the room, opening boxes and organizing everything as much as I can. I need to keep my hands busy while I think. 

Bunce’s words come back to me while I’m folding a quilt I found in one of the boxes. 

“You need to know that you two absolutely cannot change the plot. You must follow the storyline as accurately as possible, or else there may be lethal consequences. Work together to reach happily ever after.”  

Fuck, Simon. Where’s he? Is he in this story as well? Maybe another? If he’s here, who is he taking the metaphorical role of? The prince? A selfish part of my mind whispers and I quickly dismiss the thought. There’s no way. It’s just not… it’s not possible. But what if… 

It doesn’t take long to clean the room and I spend a majority of that time denying the fact that I very well might be stuck in a fairytale with Simon bloody Snow. It’s only when I start walking down the stairs that I remember what Bunce said right before we fell.  

“ A dream is a wish your heart makes.”  

I freeze in my place, vehemently denying it. I know for a fact that that’s a song from Cinderella (Mordelia went through a Disney phase a few years ago and I’ve sat through nearly every single film with her) but still. It must be a coincidence. It can’t possibly be that . Anything but that. Even if it were true, Agatha is clearly the evil stepsister in this, not Cinderella. That would be me. 

Aleister fucking Crowley, kill me now.

I find myself standing at the bottom of the stairs again with no memory of walking down the steps. Agatha calls for me to clean up and I rush out, clearing the dishes and bringing them into the kitchen. At this point I know better than to act out. Bunce’s warning echoes in my head. 

You two absolutely cannot change the plot.

If what she said earlier was true, it could possibly kill one of us if we “break character,” so to speak. I hope Simon is doing as he’s told, since I’m positive he’s never seen a Disney movie due to his unfortunate childhood, and there’s a fairly small chance he’s pieced this little spell together this early. I smile bitterly to myself. Imagine his disgust and disappointment when he realizes what’s happening. Assuming I’m right, of course.

Almost on cue (which wouldn’t surprise me at this point, seeing as I’m probably in a film of sorts), a knock sounds from the door. I somehow know that I have to answer for the other three and make my way towards the front door with no problems, despite having never been in this house before and not knowing the layout. 

A short, balding man is on the other side, holding a scroll. He startles when I open the front door and squints at me before shoving a letter into my hand. 

“In royal decree of the King his Majesty I am to invite your household to the royal ball tomorrow night. Any possibly eligible family members in correlation to the prince his Highness are required to attend, as well as their guardian or guardians.” He takes a huge breath and continues. “Details are in the letter, I expect to see you then.” Without waiting for a response he turns on his heel and stalks off towards a carriage at the end of the drive, huffing from the excerption. 

I frown down at the letter and carry it inside, walking to the sitting room. Philippa appears to be trying to play the grand piano while Wellbelove attempts to draw the Mage. It’s hard to tell from where I’m standing but I’m pretty sure she put a huge cartoon mustache on his face which draws a small smile to my face. (Wait. Merlin, did I just make a pun?).

I carefully walk up to the Mage and hand him the letter, retreating back into the doorway to hear him read it out loud. The beginning is a bunch of random nonsense about the prince coming of age and needing to find a partner, which just further convinces me of my Cinderella theory. 

“By royal command, every family with an eligible child is to attend,” the Mage reads, grinning at the two girls. I know I should step in here even though I’m sure to be ignored.

“What about me?” I ask, stepping back into the room. They all turn to face me again and I shrink back slightly under their scrutinizing glares. Starting to wish I was just ignored. Agatha laughs.

“You? You think the prince would ever like you?” I try to hide how much that stings. It’s not like I’ve been asking myself the same question since my first year. Assuming Simon is the prince, which hasn’t been confirmed. 

“Well-- no. But it says everyone, so I’m legally required to be there.” The Mage nods, stroking his chin like some inquisitive detective, but ten times more pervy with the Robin Hood outfit (yes he still has the goddamn costume on, it’s tragic, really). 

“You may go,” Both girls start to protest but he holds up a hand and they fall silent. “ But, you have to get all of your chores done and find something suitable to wear.” Once again both girls immediately try to argue but he silences them again and waves me out of the room. I roll my eyes as I walk out the door and make my way back to the attic. At least I know for sure I’m in some sort of alternate universe where everyone I know is a character in Cinderella. 

Because that’s a completely normal thing to come to terms with. 

If my memory serves me right I just have to do all of their chores, make their dresses, mope about not getting my own outfit made in time, act surprised when a bunch of rodents show me a perfectly sewn formal gown (Merlin please do not make me wear a dress to the ball. While I find cross-dressing perfectly lovely, I personally have no interest in wearing a ball gown).

After that the girls will probably tear it to pieces, I’ll cry over what could have been, then BAM-- I get a new and improved look and I go to the ball, looking for Simon. (The more I think about it the more I’m certain he’s going to be the prince. The only part I’m stuck on is the fact that I play his love interest.) 

How hard can it be?

Chapter Text

May I just say, I am a damn good seamstress.

Now, before this whole in-an-alternate-universe-with-no-escape thing I was not aware of this fact. Maybe it comes with being Cinderella, but the dresses look fantastic. They fit the design in the books they picked out flawlessly. The only problem is the colours. Don’t get me wrong, Agatha looks great in any colour, it comes from being, well, Agatha. But she had to choose bright yellow. Like, bright yellow. She refused to pick another colour. It’s unbearable. It’s like staring into the sun, but more lethal. Philippa chose some horrid red-orange dress that makes her skin look almost green (much like my own face when I saw the fabric she chose. It’s horrendous).

About fifteen minutes before the coach comes to pick them up they shoo me out of the room, getting ready. I make my way back upstairs but the Mage’s voice stops me.

“Basilton, why are you not getting dressed?” I hear the smirk in his voice and grit my teeth, refusing to turn around.

“I’m not going.”

“Why not?”

“I have nothing to wear,” I say, bristling.

“Alright then. I suppose we will see you later tonight, after the ball.” I nod and start up the stairs without another word. When I reach the attic I lean against the door for a second to catch my breath. Cinderella must have been fit as hell if she could climb these everyday holy shit--

I collapse against the large window frame and frown, squinting at the castle in the distance. I wonder if Simon is there, just as confused and scared as me. I wonder if he’s expecting Agatha to come to the ball and dance with him all night. Maybe she’ll see her right away and immediately choose her before I can even get there?

Who am I kidding? Of course he’ll choose her.

I sigh, dropping onto the cushion in the window nook, and rest my back against the small stretch of wall behind me, pulling my knees into my chest. A few minutes pass while I stare at the castle, contemplating the situation. I have no outfit, no way of getting there, and even if I did he wouldn’t give me a second glance. Maybe not even a first glance. Bunce said to stick to the story but it seems nearly impossible at this point. My head falls backwards and thumps against the wall. The curtain unsettles slightly from beside me where it’s blocking the view of the inside of the attic and I frown, pull it back, and immediately shield my eyes from the blinding light on the other side. Hesitantly, I open one, then the other when they seem to adjust.

On a mannequin stood in the center of the room is a lovely pale pink suit. A little outdated, but still acceptable. I make eye contact with a mouse from across the room (which is less unnerving than I would have originally thought) and it makes a small gesture that somehow transfers to go on, then. I smile, slightly giddy, and put the suit on, grinning at my reflection in the dusty, floor length mirror across the room. It’s unlike any other suits I’ve worn before and the fabric is an odd texture but I’m sure it’ll be just fine for the ball. I just need to find Simon and get us out of this nightmare. Then everything can go back to normal.

Then he can go back to hating me.

I shake the thought away and sprint down the stairs, hearing the coach pull up outside. “Wait!” I shout, reaching the landing. “Wait for me,” I pull myself to a stop a few steps away from the steps, not even remotely out of breath, oddly enough. They turn around and stare at me in obvious disgust, which I find highly offensive, considering everything I’ve done for them in the past few days. Agatha steps forward, scowling. I sneer right back as she starts circling behind me.

“You just don’t know when to give up, do you?” I shake my head, watching her out of the corner of my eye. She steps in front of me again and I glare at her.

“I got my chores done and I have a suitable outfit. I’m going to the ball.” She smiles sweetly and reaches forward, pulling on the right sleeve. Unfortunately, it tears right off as if it were being held there by velcro. I gasp as she barks out a (admittedly, very pretty) laugh and tosses the sleeve behind her, moving on to rip apart the suit, seam by seam. I try to pull away but Philippa appears and holds me in place as Agatha completely shreds the fabric.

Eventually the Mage steps in and demands they let me go for the sake of ruining their own dresses (that I made). I watch them strut out the door before turning around and sprinting outside, trying to find the bench I remember from the films.

It takes a little while but eventually I find it sitting under a massive willow tree. Very picturesque. I collapse onto my knees in front of it and wait for the fairy godmother to inevitably show up. A dog approaches me and sits next to me, placing its head in my lap. What was its name again? Bandit? Balto? The air around me brightens considerably and I throw a hand up to my face, blocking the light. When it doesn’t feel like my eyes are going to shrivel up behind my eyelids I remove my hand and take in the figure before me. Sitting on the bench is the goatherd from Watford. Ebb, I think it was. She smiles kindly down at me and reaches forward, brushing hair out of my face in a surprisingly paternal manner.

“Hiya Basil.” I smile in spite of myself at her bubbly voice.

“Hello.” She pats my cheek and stands, already making her way towards the pumpkin patch.

“I know you just want to get this over with, so let’s get down to business, yeah?” I nod, then realize she can’t see me and hum in agreement. With the flick of her wrist a long staff appears out of thin air and she points it towards the largest pumpkin. “Bippity, Boppity, Boo!” The magic hits it a few seconds later and sends it bouncing towards us. On the last little jump it lights up with a flash and in less than a second is a stunning carriage. Ebb claps delightedly and turns around, gasping in excitement. She points a finger at the dog and smiles.

“Come here, Bruno. C’mon little pup.” Bruno, I think. That was its name. Ebb pets its head a couple of times before lightly tapping its nose with her staff. Bruno bounces similarly to the pumpkin and when it reaches the carriage it turns into a footman. This happens with a few more creatures before Ebb finally turns and faces him with a sly grin. “You ready?” I nod hesitantly.

“It’s not going to like, hurt. Right? Because I’d be fine just staying here all night. It’s not that much trouble.” I snap my mouth shut and drop my eyes to the ground, frowning. Since when do I ramble? That seems like something Snow would do. That is, if he could ever spit the words out. I shake my head. Why am I thinking of Snow? Ebb thankfully pulls me out of my thoughts.

“It’s not gonna hurt ya. It’ll feel like a little breeze and bam! You’re all decked out and ready to go to the ball.” I take a deep breath and nod. She smiles sympathetically and steps closer, putting a comforting hand on my arm. “You’ve got this. You’re every bit like your mother, ya know.” She sniffed, her eyes filling with tears. Normally I’d think some rude comment about how emotional she is but I’m frozen in place by her words.

“You-- You knew my mother?” I ask, my voice quiet. She nods emphatically.

“She gave me my job! That woman was a saint, but also absolutely ruthless when she wanted to be. You’re a spitting image. I can tell.” I turn my head and subtly wipe a tear away with the heel of my hand but she smiles knowingly. “You want to go to the ball. I know you’re trying to tell yourself you don’t.” I start to protest but she once again silences me. “Hush, let me talk.” I do. “I think you want to go but you’re scared of confronting Si.” I refuse to let my jaw drop for the sake of my pride but I’m sure the shock showed on my face. She grins. “Just trust me on this one, he’s been worried about you too.” I scoff, crossing my arms.

“Like he’d ever bother worrying about me.” I freeze when my mind catches up with my words, eyes widening, and slowly make eye contact with Ebb, holding a finger up.

“You--”

“Not a--”

“But you just--”

“No I didn’t--

“I think you just--

“Not a word.” She grins and nods slowly.

“Alright, Basil. I’ll let you live in bitter denial.” She waves her hand at me in a gesture that just screams “Fiona” and it takes me by surprise for a second but Ebb doesn’t seem to notice, circling me. After a few contemplative seconds of silence she hums to herself and stretches her arms. “You ready for this? Because you’re going to run out of time if you don’t get a move on.” I nod.

“Yeah, yeah. I’m fine. I’m ready.” She grins widely and holds her staff out, pushing her sleeves up to her elbows and cracking her neck.

“Alrighty.” She clears her throat. “Bippity, Boppity, Boo!”

Just like she said, it just felt like a breeze circling me. I close my eyes and feel myself unconsciously spin in a circle like, well… like a goddamn Disney princess. My earlier hesitation has all but vanished as I stare down at the new suit. It’s a light silver color, almost pale blue (just like the movie) and fits much better than the other. I walk up to the small fountain tucked into the corner of the garden area and step onto the ledge, observing my reflection with a small smile. My hair is somehow completely clean, looking softer than ever and loosely framing my face in dark waves. The suit looks fantastic on me, accenting the perfect places and making me look nearly regal. It’s incredible.

I carefully step off of the ledge and look down at my feet in shock before staring at Ebb incredulously. “You did not give me glass slippers.” I look back down at my feet, marveling at the heels. I didn’t know I could even walk in heels, but apparently I can. At least in this fairy tale world where nothing is real and glass slippers are… surprisingly comfortable? Like, what? Ebb just laughs at me.

“I did! They look amazing, by the way.” They did. Somehow the shoes matched perfectly with my suit and I never thought I’d confidently say I genuinely loved the look. Ebb clears her throat. “Well, you know the rules. Run at midnight. Leave a shoe. Keep the other. Dance your heart out. Got it?” I nod absentmindedly, still looking down at my outfit. I honestly shouldn’t have been surprised that Ebb was supposedly the only self-aware character. She always seemed to be on some other level of awareness at Watford, just hanging out with her goats.

“I’ll be fine. I just need to find Simon, figure out how to get out of here without my wand, and murder Bunce.” Ebb snorts and shakes her head.

“As fun as all of that sounds, try to enjoy yourself tonight, yeah?” I sigh, but nod regardless.

“I suppose. Thank you.” She waves her hand dismissively.

“Agh, it’s nothing. Now go, before you officially pass ‘fashionably late’ and enter the land of ‘bad at time management.’” I stifle a laugh and turn away, trying to hide my smile, and hop into the carriage, sticking my head out the window slightly.

“But seriously. Thank you,” I say, nodding towards her. She beams.

“Don’t mention it. But don’t hurt my Simon. Try to give him a chance to come around, yeah?” I bite my lip, looking down at my hands in my lap.

“I’ll try.” We share a brief smile before she waves her staff again, setting the carriage into motion.

“And have fun!” She shouts after me before vanishing from sight.

Chapter Text

Simon

I hate this. I hate this so much.

I’ve been standing in this massive ballroom for at least three hours bowing to a bunch of girls in fancy dresses as they curtsied to me. It’s pure torture. I’m sure this is loosely based around Cinderella (if Penny’s spell worked) but I can’t be sure because I’m obviously some sort of prince here and in Cinderella you don’t really see him until the ball.

I’ve been keeping my eyes out for Baz in the growing crowd. I’m sure he’s here too and I’m determined to find him. We need to get out of here somehow and I know (especially after his little freakout in the neutral plane) that he’s probably losing his shit trying to find a way out of here. It was unnerving, seeing Baz so… out of control. He’s always infuriatingly collected, like nothing can shake him. I let my eyes roam up to the king on his balcony again, making a big show of yawning. I don’t know how many times Baz has reprimanded me for having an obnoxious yawn (whatever that means. I’ve never seen him yawn in our entire Watford careers but I’m sure it’s just as posh as the rest of him).

On the bright side, the king seems just as peeved as Baz usually does. Maybe he’ll let me leave the ball early and I can search for Baz. I’m this close to just walking away but a flash of blonde hair catches my eye. I look up and make eye contact with Agatha of all people and… Philippa? They see my eyes on them and both giggle oddly, stumbling up to me. One of the king’s advisors reads their names off of the scroll as they strut down the carpet in front of me. Maybe the spell did work. But then why did Baz get pulled to me? Is Baz here? Both girls look up at me from under their eyelashes but my eyes are on a familiar figure walking around far away from the crowd, looking at the massive castle in a secluded, slightly darkened part of the cavernous ballroom area. Baz.

I step forward and see the king’s eyes widen in excitement from all the way up on his balcony. Surely he thinks I’m choosing one of the girls in front of me. Instead I shove past both of them, much to everyone’s surprise. Baz hasn’t noticed me yet, which is odd since usually he can tell when I’m within 15 metres of him. Although, that might have something to do with his obvious vampirism. (Of course I know he’s a vampire, I’m his bloody roommate for Merlin’s sake) (Pun intended). His back is to me so I approach slowly, knowing everyone’s watching us. Penny’s voice seems to whisper in my ear, stick to the story, and I do what I do best.

I stop thinking.

I clear my throat and grin when Baz whips around to face me, obviously shocked he didn’t notice my presence.

“Snow,” he breathes, and if I’m not wrong he almost sounds… relieved?

I make eye contact with him and bow slowly, reaching out to take his hand and press my lips to it, Penny’s ominous death warning flashing through my head. Please don’t kill me, please don’t kill me, please don’t kill me. Baz looks like he’s about ready to pass out from shock (anger?) and is blushing. Like, a lot. I didn’t even think he was capable of blushing because of the whole vampire thing. Maybe that isn’t a thing here? I smile awkwardly, knowing he’s probably just as uncomfortable as I am after that, and let his hand go, standing up straight again. His suit looks bloody perfect (of course it does, that posh git) and he’s wearing glass heels. It’s absolutely ridiculous but still looks perfect somehow because he’s Baz and he could make anything seem fit for bloody royalty. He makes a couple of uncharacteristic squeaking sounds while trying to speak before taking a deep breath and visibly collecting his thoughts. Probably trying to stop himself from reaching out and killing me in front of a giant crowd.

“Simon, I-- What--” I cut my eyes to the side where everyone is watching us quickly before meeting his gaze again.

“May I have this dance?” I ask, then when he starts stuttering again (seriously, what’s up with that, though?) I add in a whisper, “Penny said keep up the act, and we should probably listen to her because she’s usually right.” He nods shakily so I hold my hands out, reaching towards him, before pulling them back a little bit, uncertain. Baz frowns.

“What are you doing?” I laugh nervously.

“I have no idea.” Baz raises an eyebrow and I rush to explain myself. “Agatha tried to teach me how to dance. It went about as well as you’d expect.” Baz exhales sharply through his nose. Was-- Was that a laugh? Now that I think about it, I don’t think I’ve ever heard him laugh. (Does evil cackling count?) I had always just assumed he was incapable of genuine laughter. Now he’s staring at me with a strange look, like he’s trying not to smile or he has to sneeze or something. I can’t tell. It’s usually incredibly easy to read his face (then again, it’s almost always in some sort of sneer or cold smirk). He carefully takes my hands in his and places one of my hands on his waist, keeping the other in his own. Then he positions his own hand on my shoulder lightly.

“Okay,” he murmurs, looking down at our feet. My eyes drop to the floor too. “So, you’re leading.” I nod, my hair brushing against his forehead. He takes another deep breath. It’s probably extremely difficult for him, being so close to me. I know it’s killing me. (Literally, maybe. My heart is racing for some reason and I feel jittery. Maybe it’s one of his tricks, trying to throw me off or something). His voice is quiet when he speaks. “How much do you remember from your lessons with Wellbelove?” I shrug, knowing it drives him crazy.

“Not much.” Baz huffs.

“Alright, so you’re going to take a step forward with your left foot. I follow you, so don’t wait for me,” he pauses and I follow his instructions. Like he said, I didn’t even come close to stepping on his foot since he was following my movements, which means I’m already doing way better than when I was with Agatha. He directs me through a few basic steps for a while and eventually I get the hang of it enough to move at a moderate speed that could almost make it seem like I knew what I was doing.

Baz is surprisingly patient with me. It’s sort of unnerving. I don’t mess up too often under his instructions, while Agatha’s feet would have been long since sore. After a few minutes I find myself actually having fun, waltzing around the ballroom with him. Which... Is probably part of some evil plan of his, right? Right. Even then, I can’t find myself to care. He tenses as we grow closer to the crowd so without even thinking I lead us away from there, towards the door to the gardens.

By now we’ve just passed the curtain leading into the other room just like in the movie and I’m sure the grand duke is going to block us off from view of the rest of the crowd soon. Baz relaxes almost immediately as we move away from the crowd and I grin. His lips curl up too and he looks up at me, his eyes reflecting the stars in the giant windows. Something about that thought makes me pause and he stops with me, his face contorting into confusion. I frown.

“What? What is it?” I freeze when it hits me, just what was so weird about that thought, and a wide, excited smile spreads across my face.

He’s looking up at me.

Ever since we were first years he’s always been taller than me. Always. Currently, he’s tilting his head to the side and biting his lip, seemingly unaware of this fantastic new bit of news.

“What are you smiling at?” I grin, looking down at him. I can’t believe I’m taller than him here. Why am I taller, though? Is it some sort of correlation to the prince being taller than Cinderella? Baz gets that look on his face, the one where he wrinkles his nose and presses his lips together tightly, the one that tells me he’s sort of annoyed with me but is trying to hide it. He always fails.

“Oh nothing,” I draw the ‘oh’ out and he squints at me.

“Snow.” I wrinkle my nose.

“You called me Simon before.”

He shakes his head, smirking. “I haven’t a clue what you’re talking about.”

Jokes on him, I think. He’s not going to be so calm when he realizes his newfound shortness. I smile smugly, winking at him. “Bold words for someone three inches shorter than me.” The smile slides off of his face and he stares at me like I’ve grown a second head before his eyes widen and flicker up to the top of my head, then down to my chin, then back up again, distress clear in his entire face. It’s the funniest thing I’ve ever seen in my entire life and I laugh loudly, tipping my head back.

He smacks my chest and steps away but I tighten my grip on his waist, pulling him back in. I’m not sure why, maybe just to gloat. That seems right, right? Right. He blushes again and looks super flustered for a second and I decide right there that I’m going to make him blush as much as I possibly can before we get back to Watford and it’s physically impossible for his body to send enough blood up to his face to be noticeable. He glares at me but doesn’t move away, surprisingly.

“How the hell did this happen?” I grin.

“I think it has something to do with us being in the story of Cinderella and the height difference between Prince Charming and Cinderella.” I tilt my head to the side. “Although it is odd that you’re the princess out of the two of us.” He makes a choking sound and coughs to cover it up, angling his face away to hide another blush (I can still see it).

His eyes go wide and he steps away, clearing his throat. “Well, the curtain is closed, we can stop dancing now.” I try not to show how oddly disappointed I am to hear that. We seemed to actually be having fun for a second there. He turns and walks out to the garden and I follow him, smiling at the rather pretty scene before us. The stars are very visible, more than they are even from the window in our room at school. The gardens are about as extravagant as you would expect for a palace, looking just like the movie. I had seen a few of them in one of the better care homes. They had a small television set and a few VCR’s that we would watch on repeat.

We stop on a bridge over a small river and stare down at our reflection over the railing. Next to each other we look almost regal, like we were born into royalty (although Baz probably was raised to think so, the rich prat). We’re complete opposites and for once it doesn’t look like we’re against the other, but rather complimenting each other. He’s like the moon with his pale skin and midnight hair, me the sun with my moles and bronze curls. He looks up at me and I smile. (I am feeling way too much satisfaction at being able to say he looks up at me.) He blinks a couple of times and shakes his head quickly after a few seconds, breaking eye contact and turning to walk down the rest of the bridge, his hand trailing along the railing. I follow him, of course.

I’ll always follow him.

Baz

I don’t know how much longer I can take this.

Simon is taller than me. He’s taller than me, and he won’t stop smiling his stupid, happy smile and it is doing things to me. I deserve some sort of award for the amount of self control I’ve exhibited just in the past half hour or so. Eventually we stop and sit down on the wide steps in view of the giant bell tower and clock, just as it looked in the movie before Cinderella had to run away. I’m on the bottom step, turned to face Simon, who’s sitting on the next one up, facing me. The silence around us is tense and slightly awkward as we both try to find something to say. Eventually Simon sighs heavily. 

“I suppose we should probably figure out what’s happening, yeah?” I nod, frowning as I think. This is obviously Cinderella. I just have no idea why. Why are we in a fairy tale world? Why did I have to be Simon’s love interest? Why why why. Simon huffs, leaning against the step behind him and tucking one leg up. “Penny said to stick to the story, so I’m assuming we just have to stay here for a while. Or at least, until the bell chimes. Right?” I nod slowly again.

“I don’t have my wand, so I can’t spell us out of here. You?” He shakes his head.

“I didn’t have my wand. Not that that would have done much for us anyways,” he mutters, frowning at himself. I feel the need to make him smile again, then shake my head slightly, trying to shoo the thoughts out of my head. Get it together, Pitch. 

“It’s alright Simon. I had a feeling that would be the case.” I speak gently, avoiding eye contact when I feel his eyes on me. 

“You said Simon again.” I roll my eyes, still not looking at him.

“That’s your name, if I’m not mistaken.” He exhales quickly, a small laugh. 

“It is, but you never call me Simon. Always Snow.”

I give him a weird look. “I’m… sorry?” He shakes his head quickly, then blushes.

“I- Uh. I actually… I like it. Simon, I mean. Uh…” He tugs at his hair and I swat his hand away without thinking when he winces. 

“Stop, you’re hurting yourself,” I snap. He laughs sheepishly and puts his hands in his lap. 

“Sorry.”

I give him the same odd look. “Why are you apologizing?” He shrugs and immediately my mind filters through all of the ways I could tear both of his arms off in the next three seconds.

“Dunno. You seemed upset?” He shrugs again and I glare at him. He sends me a (albeit small) smug grin and I know he knows how much I hate it when he shrugs. 

“Whatever.” I cross my arms and turn away again, trying to think of anything other than Simon Snow is sitting less than two feet away from me willingly and smiling. At me. On purpose.

I’m not that successful. 

“What’s your favorite colour?” I choke out a laugh, turning to look at Simon incredulously. 

“Excuse me?” He blushes again and shrugs, ignoring my glare this time.

“We’re gonna be here for a while. I don’t want to spend it watching you brood.”

I scoff. “I do not brood. I’m trying to think of a way out of here.” 

He purses his lips and nods once. “Sure.” We fall silent again and I go back to thinking. I’m about halfway through a plan where we somehow find Ebb and beg her to use her staff to send us back when Simon pokes my shoulder. I glare up at him. Up at him. I hate this so much.

“What is it?” I snap. He just grins back. 

“You didn’t answer my question.” I roll my eyes. Is he serious?

I stay silent for a while, trying to ignore him, but I catch his slightly hurt look and can’t help but indulge him, if only to bring out his bright grin again. Pathetic. 

“Blue,” I say. Like your eyes, I don’t say. He jumps, then squints at me. I huff, rolling my eyes again. “You asked for my favorite colour, yes?” He nods, looking confused. I sigh, leaning back on my hands and tilting my head up towards the sky, a small smile growing across my face as I look at the familiar constellations. At my family’s manor during summers and breaks I would stay up late into the night, staring out my window at the stars. It was one of the only constants when I wasn’t at Watford. The stars were always blinking in the sky, no matter what. 

There were a few that matched the patterns of moles on Simon’s skin. I always seek those out first. On nights where everything seemed a little too hopeless, like everything I ever did would eventually pile up and result in never seeing him again, I would find comfort in knowing that just up there in the sky was a piece of him. One that would never leave me. As creepy as that sounded, it got me through many lonely summers.

“My favorite colour is blue.” He stares at me, looking mildly surprised. I scowl. “What, does blue not meet your standards, your Highness?” He shakes his head and looks down, blushing. 

"N-No. I just. I wasn’t expecting… uh.” I smile tightly. 

“You thought I’d say something more… evil?” I suggest, gesturing at myself with one hand. He shakes his head harder.

“No! No-- Well. Kinda. Maybe a little. But can you blame me?” I can’t. 

“What’s your favorite colour then?” I shoot back, drawing attention away from myself. Or, at least, trying to. He gives me a slightly puzzled grin, tilting his head to the side. 

“What’d’ya say?” I sigh as dramatically as possible, tipping my head back to get the full effect. 

“Must I repeat the stupid question?”

He laughs quietly. “No, no. I’m just sort of shocked you’re willingly conversing with me.” I can’t help it. I let out a small laugh and shake my head. 

“Honestly, me too.” We share a look, both genuinely smiling, before I clear my throat and force my face to go blank, hoping he didn't see what was surely a disgustingly affectionate expression. Simon immediately frowns.

“Why do you do that?” I look away. 

“Do what?” I choose to play dumb here. Not usually my first move (makes me feel like I’m sinking to Snow’s level) (although I’m pretty sure he is legitimately confused most of the time) but I’ll make do in hopes that he’ll drop it. 

“You make your face all blank and emotionless. It’s like you can’t let people know when you’re happy.” He throws his arms out during his little tirade and I bite the inside of my cheek, avoiding eye contact. 

“Maybe I can’t,” I whisper, then freeze. Oh shit. I said that out loud, didn’t I? I risk a glance at Simon and he’s staring at me with the saddest expression I’ve ever seen. Damn that empathetic bastard. He’s too perfect. Wait, no fuck-

“You should be able to be happy, Baz.” I’m not sure what does it. Maybe the way he says my name. Maybe the way he sounds like he genuinely wants to help me. I look at him and smile. It's small, yes, but still open and honest. And… wow. It feels like finally letting go of something you didn’t know you didn’t need to keep holding onto, or releasing a breath after holding it in for longer than you thought was possible. It feels freeing. I don’t remember the last time I let myself be even remotely open with someone, let alone Simon. Even if it’s just a bloody smile.

Morgana, that’s depressing.

An odd look crosses his face. His face turns red and his eyes go wide, mouth dropping open slightly (mouth breather). He raises a hand out and, almost unconsciously it seems, he tucks a strand of hair behind my ear, his touch light enough that I barely feel it. 

“Oh,” he breathes, his voice a whisper. I look down at my hands folded in my lap and flex my fingers, laughing airily to myself. His hand finds my chin and tips my head back up. I meet his eyes.

“Is that a good 'oh?'” He grins widely. 

“Definitely.” I try not to show how much that single word affects me but he frowns again. “You’re doing it again.” Damn him. At this point I should just tell him I love him and die from the rejection in peace. I force myself to relax and he smiles again. Only then do I realize that his hand is still resting against my face, holding my cheek. He doesn’t seem to notice, and if he does, he doesn’t care. I definitely notice and I’m waiting for him to call out the blood rushing to my face but he stays silent, staring at me with that strange look from earlier. 

“What is it?” I ask softly, watching him carefully. He blinks a couple of times and chuckles to himself. 

“Nothing, I… uh. Your eyes. They’re like… blue and green. Which is weird, because they’re usually grey. Like, dark grey. Most of the time at least. But they look blue and green now and-- I’m just… I am going to shut up now.” He bites his lip and turns away, leaving me to overthink that confession. He notices my eyes? Snap out of it. It doesn’t mean anything. But what if-- 

Ignoring the fluttering feeling in my chest (like I could ever ignore it), I tease him, if only to get some semblance of normality back. “You look into my eyes often, then, Snow?” He flushes scarlet and I imagine sucking all of the butterflies in my stomach into a massive, feeling-less vacuum. Conceal, don’t fucking feel Basilton. Embrace the Disney. Shove it all down. Put on the metaphorical gloves, gain control of your emotions, and for Merlin’s sake DO NOT LET IT GO. 

He splutters. “Wh- Well, uh. I- You know. We’re, um. I-” I put a hand up, silencing him.

“Don’t hurt yourself, Snow.” He huffs and leans against the stair again (and by association, removes his hand. I try not to let it get to me), tipping his head back, exposing his neck in the moonlight. In front of a vampire that supposedly hates him. Why do I love this idiot again? 

He looks at me again and smiles widely, riling up the butterflies again. Oh. That’s why. “I’m particularly keen to green myself. Or maybe red. Or yellow.” I roll my eyes. 

You can’t pick all of them, you numpty.” He wrinkles his nose and grins. 

“Says who?” 

“Says me.” He snorts and I let myself smile. Not with teeth, just a small quirk of my lips. 

“Alright.” He seems to contemplate something before perking up again. 

“How did you know we’re in Cinderella?” 

I bite my lip and answer before psyching myself out. “My sister,” I start, my voice softer than I’d usually allow around him. “She went through a Disney phase a while ago and I was forced into watching the entire collection of movies with her.” Simon is giving me a strange look. 

“How old is she?” I raise an eyebrow.

“She turns ten this year. Why?” 

He shrugs. “You don’t mention her often. I’m just curious, I guess.” I squint at him. 

“Well, we aren’t the type to talk about our lives outside of tormenting each other, are we?” As much as it pains me to say, it’s true. I barely know anything about Simon outside of Watford. 

“We could be.” His voice is so quiet I almost miss it. And what a blessing it would have been. I don’t know how long we’ll be here but knowing what it’s like to be civil with him, maybe more than civil, then going back to how everything’s supposed to be when we get out would make everything that much more painful. Yet I still indulge him. Because I’m weak. 

“What do you want to know?” I ask, my voice only slightly louder than his. He looks surprised at my answer (not that I blame him) and he reaches up to tug at those infernal curls. 

“Um. Is it just you and your sister, then?” I shake my head, looking at my hands.

“I’m the eldest. Then Mordelia, then the twins. And now the baby, as of fourteen months.” His eyebrows jump up and a small little smile creeps onto his face. 

“Wow. I didn’t see you as the big brother sort.” I scoff, though I’m also sort of smiling. (Loathe am I to admit it though).

“Well, now you know.” He nods, then looks out into the distance. 

“I don’t think I have any siblings.” I raise an eyebrow, encouraging him to go on. “I mean-- I don’t know my mum or dad. I was told they dropped me off at a care home with ‘Simon Snow’ written on my arm when I was just a baby.” He laughs sadly and tugs on his curls again, still not looking at me. Good thing, probably. I’m not sure how concealed my emotions are right now but I’m sure I don’t look the part of Disinterested Enemy . 

Try Pining Fool. 

How’d you end up at Watford, then?” I already know. Hell, the entire Magickal community knows. We all felt it when he lit up for the first time. He shrugs. Sigh. 

“The Mage found me after I… you know, and he brought me to the school.” He huffs out a laugh. “I was terrified. Then I wasn’t. Then the entire year went by and I thought ‘thank god, I don’t have to go back to the care home.” He smiles bitterly. “The Mage came to our room after you had gone and told me to pack my things. I don’t know what I was expecting. But it wasn’t a new, dirtier care home than before.” He lets out a slow breath and rubs the back of his neck. “Then he left me there. All summer long. For a while I thought I had imagined the entire year. Of course, he picked me up the next year and I got my hopes up again, only to be let down.” I feel a flash of anger towards the Mage (but what else is new). Simon turns his head to face me and flinches back.

“What?” I’m surprised by the venom in my voice. He furrows his eyebrows. 

“Sorry, just. You look like you’re about to murder me.” I force my face to smooth out to a blank slate again and Simon’s own face falls. 

“I’m sorry. I just realized I hate the Mage more than I thought.” Simon snorts and leans back. 

“Is that even possible?” I shrug, then immediately hate myself. I didn’t just-- 

Simon gets this glint in his eyes and I just know he’s going to say something about it but I shut him up with a look. He holds his hands up in surrender. “Alright, alright. I’ll let it slide. Just this once.” He nudges me with his foot and I shoot him a disgusted look. Which he ignores. “Besides,” he starts. “You can’t possibly hate him more than I do.” I laugh outright at that. He laughs too, albeit quieter, and nudges me again. “It’s true! You just haven’t been paying attention.” I roll my eyes, not bothering to hold back a smile at this point.

“Do enlighten me, Snow.” 

“I will!” He points in my face and I swat his hand away. “You and the Old Families are trying to get him out of his seat as Greatest Mage, yeah?” I nod slowly, not seeing where he’s going with this at all. “Honestly, I’ve been forced to trail after him and do whatever he says for years. I know firsthand how he’s corrupting the World of Mages. He’s not focusing on things that need to be focused on, like the Humdrum, but instead he’s raiding your homes for anything that can incriminate the Old Families? It makes no sense. He should take care of the common enemy and go from there. And there’s no point in fighting the Old Families!” I’m frozen in shock but Simon’s waving his arms around and dragging them through his hair animatedly. Is he-- Is he actually not completely oblivious to the Mage’s obvious ineptness? “You guys have been trying to find ways of destroying him from the outside, yeah?” I nod again and he smiles sheepishly. “I’ve been doing so from the inside.” I feel my jaw drop and quickly close my mouth. 

“You-- How?” He looks well smug right now and I surprisingly don’t feel the usual urge to smack it off his face.

“Think about it, though. I sit in on every meeting. I know every plan, I have access to all of his rooms and offices, I know passwords, names, dates. I’ve been forced to take notes since I was twelve. I have enough information to take him down, but I just need the proper audience. Most people are afraid of him.” He tilts his head to the side, as if he isn’t blowing my mind. “Well, not of him, but of the power he has in his spot in the Coven.” I bark out a shocked laugh. 

“Snow, you’re secretly a bloody genius!” I stare up at him in awe and he blushes, rubbing the back of his neck. 

“Well, Penny’s been helping a bunch. It’s not just me. Actually, it's mostly her.” I roll my eyes, then sit up abruptly. 

“Wait, what if I get the Old Families together, let them hear you out. We could take him down whenever we get out of here.” I rush through the words, already thinking about how quickly I can gather them all for a meeting. Simon reaches out and puts a hand on my arm, pulling me from my thoughts. 

“We have to get out of here first.” I pause, then groan. Somehow I’d forgotten about this ridiculous nightmare (dream?) we were stuck in. 

“Alright.” He stares at me incredulously.

“Alright?” I nod, pressing my lips together.

“I hate to admit it but you’re right. There’s nothing we can do until we get out of here.” He grins.

“We?” 

I nod slowly, giving him a look that screams you’re an idiot . “Yes, we. God, Snow. You have information, I have connections. We’re definitely a ‘we’ until this gets sorted out.” I must have imagined the disappointment on his face at the end of the sentence. I must have. My heart couldn’t take it if he actually did want a ‘we.’ It wouldn’t be in the same way as I do.

“Oh. Okay, that’s… uh, cool.” I raise an eyebrow.

“I’d hope so.” He huffs another laugh and looks just over my shoulder, squinting at something. I let my eyebrow drop and slowly look over my shoulder, trying to find what he was looking at. Upon seeing nothing I turn to him again, eyebrow back in place. “What?” He has the audacity to laugh, a bright smile on his face.

“Made ya look.” I stare at him for a second before scoffing and rolling my eyes. A literal child. You fell head over bloody glass heels for a literal child, Basilton.

“You’re an idiot.” He shrugs. 

“Maybe. But you still looked.” He nudges me with his foot and I glare at him before looking slightly above his head and letting my eyes widen considerably. Then, before he can even question what I’m doing, I jerk backwards and screech loudly, pointing above his head. He lets out a scream of his own and looks up, already jumping away from the stairs. I laugh, dropping back onto the steps, and lean back on my hands again, watching him grumble as he takes his spot as well. 

“ Made ya look,” I mock, watching him pout with amusement. He sniffs, turning away.

"That was uncalled for.” I scoff.

“I think it was perfectly called for, Simon.” He turns his head towards me so fast I’m surprised I don’t hear something crack and throws a finger in my face. I slap it away but he just replaces it with his other hand. “Bloody hell, Snow. What’s wrong with you?” He grins at me, scooting himself closer to me. 

“You said it!” I smack his arm away again.

“What are you on about?” He smiles wider.

“You said my name!” 

I search my memory quickly and hold back a groan. “No, I most certainly did not.” He shakes his head, still pointing at me.

“No, you called me Simon .” He emphasizes ‘Simon’ and leans forward, trying to smirk. It fails miserably, of course, but it’s still frustratingly endearing and adorable. 

“I did no such thing.” He exhales through his nose in a laugh and tips his head forward. I jump slightly and hold back a small squeak when his forehead bumps against mine. I hadn’t noticed him get so close to me. I hadn’t noticed myself get so close to him. He sucks in a small breath and turns his head just slightly, our noses brushing together. This can’t be happening. I can’t actually be this close to Simon fucking Snow. It’s unsafe for my cold, dead heart, dammit. 

I’m going to kiss him. 

If he doesn’t move away I’m going to kiss him and he’s never going to be able to look at me again with those stupid blue eyes and I’m going to die of mortification right here. Forget not sticking to the bloody script, I’ll just spontaneously combust right here on the steps. He looks into my eyes and I’m surprised by how soft they look. I’ve only ever seen him look at me like that in my dreams. (This is so much better than my dreams.)   I place my hand on the step and lean even closer, even though every cell in my body is screaming at me to run. Simon’s eyes flutter shut and he pushes closer to me, nearly sending me into cardiac arrest when his hand finds its way to my face again, a few strands of my hair curling around his fingers. I close my own eyes and reach up to close the few millimetres between us. 

Just before the distance is completely crossed a huge, booming chime goes off. I smile softly and back away a few inches, my eyes still closed. Figures.

“Suppose that’s my cue, then.” I don’t wait for an answer before turning and sprinting away from Simon, grinning when I hear his footsteps stumbling after me.

“Baz! Wait! Where’re you staying? How do I find you?” He shouts after me, even when the crowd of girls stops him with their impeccable timing. I burst through the massive castle doors and take a deep breath of night air before taking off again when I hear his footsteps again. I make it to the bottom of the grand staircase leading to my carriage when Simon shouts again. 

“Baz!” I look over my shoulder at him, still running towards the carriage. 

“What is it, Snow?” 

He points at something at the ground by my… oh. I nearly facepalm right there. The slipper. The bell chimes for the seventh? maybe? time so I just reach down, slip the shoe off, and throw it at him. Then I turn on my heel (pun intended) and hop into the carriage, risking a glance back at Simon, who’s groaning and sitting at the bottom of his stairs, rubbing his back while holding the shoe carefully. He obviously fell down the stairs trying to catch it. I let out a loud laugh and watch his head snap up to look at me from where I’m looking out the window. He shoots me a crooked grin and waves slightly, looking dazed, and I let my lips curl upwards slightly and lean back into the carriage, out of his view, before he can see the lovesick expression that I’m sure is on my face right now.

Holy shit.

Chapter Text

Penny

I sprint up to Ms Posibelf when they start to lean up towards each other on the steps through my mirror and shove the student talking to her out of the way. She looks at me sternly for a moment before I hold the mirror out in front of us and point my wand at it.

I cast "Grow Up!" and the mirror expands to about four feet wide and three feet tall, out of view of the other students. Ms Posibelf’s eyes latch onto the screen and she watches curiously.

“That didn’t take long at all.”

“Well, time moves faster there than here. You don’t know how long it’s going to take for the people to figure it out, so if they moved at a usual speed to us it could possibly take months, maybe even years.” She nods and rests her chin on her hand. Both of us watch in anticipation, not noticing the class watching us in growing confusion. They get close enough that from the view we have I can’t tell if they are or aren’t kissing yet before Baz pulls away, saying something. A quick glance at the grand clock tower in the background shows that it’s basically midnight. We watch Simon chase after Baz in silence, laughing quietly when Baz throws the shoe at Simon. Then I shrink the mirror and put it in my pocket, looking to Posibelf.

“This is… exceptional so far. Very well done.” I beam and walk back to my seat, pulling out my notebook and writing down everything I just saw. I’m so getting top marks.

Baz

It’s been a few days since the ball and I’m bored out of my mind. We got the notice about the Prince going around but so far Simon hasn’t shown up at the manor, which means I have to spend who-knows-how-long cleaning for the absolute monsters that live in the residence. I silently made a promise to myself that I would never call Simon a monster again because compared to the absolute heathens in this fucking house he’s a saint.

This was two days ago.

I can’t help but wonder how far behind I’ll fall in my classes after this. I mean, unless the spell slows time somehow in this dimension-thing that’s happening (which would be magickal brilliance on Bunce’s part, loathe am I to admit it), but still, it’s been literal days. I’m sure to be missing something.

I’m washing the window in the attic when I hear the sound of horses approaching the manor. Squinting through the glass I can confirm that way down the road is a group of men on horseback. They’re too far away to actually make out facial features but I’m positive it’s the royal cavalry leading their heir to the last house in their journey to find the Prince’s missing love.

What even is my life anymore?

I take a deep breath, allowing a small smile to creep onto my face, and turn towards the door, ready to head down and get this over with. Only, when I turn around, instead of the empty, inviting doorway I was expecting, I’m graced with the (horrendous) sight that is the Mage -shudder- grinning at me.

“Can I help you?” I ask, making sure my disdain is clear in my tone. His grin turns sharper, more dangerous.

“Oh, not at all. But, you could make things worse for me.” I frown. What’s that supposed to mean? My mind blanks as I try to remember what happens before the prince comes to the manor to test the slipper, so I have no idea why he’s here if Simon is approaching.

“Pardon?” I say more than ask, trying to hide my confusion. He drops the smile (thank god, it was starting to unnerve me) and openly glares at me. I don’t hesitate to return the look.

“You could cause a problem if left to your own devices. Therefore, I’d say there’s only one way to fix that.” My brain is still trying to catch up with what he’s saying while simultaneously scanning my memory for what the hell happens to Cinderella before the prince puts the damn shoe on her foot, so I don’t realize what’s happening until the door clicks shut, the lock echoing ominously throughout the room.

Fuck.

I sprint up to the door and try the handle, knowing it won’t budge, then I ram my arm into it a few times, trying to break it down. Even when I try to use my --ahem-- extra strength, the door stays sturdy, not moving at all. Which. Is unfortunate and very inconvenient. So, I do the only reasonable thing upon realizing you’re locked in an enclosed space and highly claustrophobic with no immediate escape.

I. Lose. My. Shit.

In my haze of respiratory failure I rip the curtains open and stick my head out of the window, sucking in massive breaths of air, but it still doesn’t feel like enough. Suddenly, I’m back in that coffin under that god-awful bridge, surrounded by the sound of grinding rock and infernal darkness.

Logically, I know I’m probably overreacting. But that rational, reasonable, conscience thought is being drowned out entirely by another, more panicky one that’s screaming “THERE’S NO FUCKING ESCAPE. I’M GOING TO BE STUCK HERE FOREVER. NOBODY’S COMING FOR ME, AND I’M GOING TO DIE IN AN ALTERNATE REALITY SHITSHITSHITSHITSHIT--” and it’s making it very difficult to focus on anything other than the pounding in my head and pressure pushing on my lungs. Why the fuck can’t I BREATHE?!

My eyes blink open slowly and sluggishly (when did I close my eyes?) and I find myself curled in a ball in the corner opposite of the door. The pressure in my lungs is getting worse by every second but instead of the screeching in my head my thoughts are… silent. Completely, utterly silent. I feel absolutely nothing emotion-wise, and I almost want the panic to come back. This void of emotions is so much worse, so much more deafening.

Through the fog creeping into my vision I hear a thump from far below the room followed by a shout, then pounding footsteps. Said footsteps get louder with every second of numbness and the pain in my chest is bringing tears to my eyes. A spark of fear jolts through me at the sound of banging on the door and I curl up tighter in my ball of nothingness. Please, don’t hurt me... I just want it all to go away.

The door actually shakes on its hinges and I cover my head with my arms, peeking at the silhouette standing in the now-open doorway through my fingers. Then I collapse in relief.

Because the silhouette is more familiar than my own shadow. With the untamed curls, broad shoulders and defensive stance, I’m immediately overwhelmed with a sense of endless and unrelenting safety.

Before I can second-guess myself I jump up to my feet and stumble forward until I reach Simon, not stopping until my arms are wrapped around his shoulders and my nose is pressed against his neck. A shudder runs through me as all of the pain in my chest dissipates and I breathe easily for the first time in minutes. A pair of hesitant, careful arms slowly raise to rest around my waist. I push closer and one of the hands that was currently resting near my hip rises to my hair, tangling in the already-messy strands.

“Hey,” he breathes. “It’s okay. You’re okay.” I nod, still feeling my entire body shaking. He must feel it too, because he starts walking forwards, making sure I don’t trip over either of our feet. I go tense, wanting desperately to get out of the room, not further into it, but Simon just holds me closer and keeps moving.

“Please, no,” I beg, shaking my head. “I want to get out, I don’t want to stay in here, please.” He turns his head and gives me a sad but reassuring smile.

“And we will, but we need to finish the story. We’ll leave right after. I won’t let anything happen to you again, I promise.” Right. The story. I feel my eyes fill with tears but can’t find it in myself to care, considering how Simon Snow is willingly promising to protect me even though he has no idea what’s freaking me out so much. It’s so definitively Simon that I’m compelled to believe him. I know he means it.

The backs of my knees hit the futon and I fall onto the stiff cushion, feeling lightheaded. He drops to a knee in front of me and it takes all of my self control not to let my thoughts run with that daydream-worthy sight. He reaches behind him and pulls a shoe out from god-knows-where on his person, the glass hitting the window’s light in a blinding array of rainbow refractions throughout the room.

“Can I..?” I let out a breath of air harshly, blowing a strand of my hair out of my eyes.

“It’s ‘may I,’ Snow.” A small smile flickers onto his face and he looks up at me, eyes twinkling.

“Glad you’re back to your usual snarky self, then.” I bite my lip and look away, trying to stop the fluttering in my chest. Calm the fuck down, Basilton. That very well could have been an insult. Although with the way he was looking at me--

I hum in response and he takes that as an invitation to slide the slipper onto my foot with surprising gentleness. Of course, it fits perfectly, which prompts everyone in the room besides Simon and I to gasp in various amounts of shock/anger.

“It fits,” Simon mumbles. I snort at the obvious statement and roll my eyes.

“Well, I’d hope so, considering it was created solely to fit my foot.” This time Simon rolls his eyes, then stands, holding a hand out towards me. I reach out and take it, still shaking more than I would like.

“Yeah, yeah. Let’s get out of here, alright?” I sigh in relief, sagging into his side a little bit.

“Please.” That earns me a small laugh and squeeze of his hand (we’re still holding hands we’re still holding hands we’re still holding ha--)

I feel a familiar tugging in my midriff, forcing me into Simon’s side, and two strong arms surround me once again, something that is sure to kill my undead heart should it happen one more time because goddamn it, I can only handle Simon holding me in his fucking arms so many times okay-

We make eye contact before the ground below us vanishes yet again, dropping us into the void of darkness.

This time, when I reach out, I find exactly what I need, right where I need him.

Chapter Text

Simon

When I wake up this time it’s not nearly as peaceful as it was when I was in the castle in Cinderella.

For starters, instead of a familiar face gently nudging me awake, I’m met with the sound of yelling and metal clinking against metal loudly. Then a small hand smacks me in the face. Like, directly in the face. Definitely intentionally. I groan, shoving the (surprisingly furry??) thing off of me and sit up, blurrily looking across the circular and drafty room. A glance out of the uncovered window shows that I’m very high up, with a view looking straight out over a small kingdom, a large palace looming far in the distance.

That’s all I get to observe before a trapdoor that assumedly leads into the place crashes open and bangs against the floor. I jump to my feet when a head pops through the hole, followed by a large torso and oh, okay that’s a sword. A very, very sharp sword. Another quick search shows that the only other exit is through the window to my left so by the time the second head appears in the trapdoor I take off, not thinking before leaping out of the window, grabbing the flag pole a few feet away from the building and sliding down and jumping on top of the roof of another, smaller building.

Another shout sounds from the room above me and I take a few deep breaths, pressing myself against the pole and squinting up at the window. Another fairy tale?

The first head peers out and two beady eyes lock onto my figure. The man points at me and barks out a guff “There!” then also jumps out of the window, making a much clumsier landing than I did. The second person follows, then a third, then fourth, then fifth, and so on until about thirteen identically dressed men are on the roof as well, all inching me closer to the edge of the building.

I peek below and behind me and force my face to relax, despite the fact that I now know if I take one step backwards I’ll be falling at least five stories. The first guy (I’m pretty sure he’s their leader or something) chuckles, holding his sword out and pointing it at my throat. I put my hands up, smiling easily, and laugh brightly.

“Fellas, come on! Can’t we talk about thi-IS OH GOD-” The leader growled and shoved the sword forward, just nearly impaling my throat (I need that, thankyouverymuch) and I jerk back, hopping onto the short ledge on the edge of the rooftop. “That’s a no, then.” The man takes another stab (HA!) at hitting me and I step off of the ledge, clenching my jaw to avoid screaming as I free fall. Please hit the awning, please hit the awning, please hit the aw--

This time I do let out a small shriek when I bounce on the stiff fabric above the entrance to the building we were standing on top of, being launched forward and onto the actual ground. I roll to a stop across the small street next to a narrow alleyway and hop to my feet, snagging a shawl off of a nearby clothesline, and rush to wrap it over my head and around my shoulders, grinning at the women near me. One steps forward, smiling knowingly.

“In trouble again, Simon?” I grin, sneaking a hand out to grab a loaf of bread on a nearby cart, then tap it against the side of my head.

“I’m only in trouble if I get caught.” A loud, deep voice barking out orders draws closer and I duck back behind the woman. “Speaking of…” The second I say that the guard points at me again and they all fan out, sprinting in my direction. I turn on my heel and drop the shawl, taking off down the alleyway. The first guard grabs my shoulder and pulls me to a stop, glaring down at me. I smile nervously at him. “I’m in trouble.”

The guard bears his teeth and opens his mouth to speak but before a single word can get out a monkey lands on his head, pulling his turban over his eyes. I grin, recognizing this as the creature that must have woken me up, and hold my arm out. The monkey jumps forward and crawls up to my shoulder, perching there easily. The guard gives up on trying to fix his turban and throws it to the side, snarling at me. I fake a look of confusion, glancing between the guard and the monkey.

“Wow, if I didn’t know any better, I’d say I couldn’t tell which one of you is the beast here.” Then I shrug, turning to face the guard head on, and stage whisper to him, holding my hand up to block my mouth from the animal on my shoulder. “But that would be insulting to the monkey.” With a growl, the guard reaches forward with both hands, looking seconds away from strangling me, and I jump back, whipping around again and hurrying down the alley. At the end is a metal scaffold that I easily climb up to the roof of yet another building. Only when I get up there, I’m met with some of the guards that must have branched out from the group to cut me off. I turn around, planning on coming the way I climbed up, but the first guard is standing right behind me. A glance to the right showed more guards climbing up the sides of the building.

Fuck.

They all start creeping closer again, cornering me against the wall of the taller building directly next to the roof we’re standing on. A small clicking makes me look up and I see a window directly above me, curtains fluttering from when the monkey surely snuck through. The guards catch on a second after me. Of course, it would be hard to miss, since I just flipped backwards through the window. A bunch of women jumped up from where they were sitting inside, staring at me in shocked silence. I laugh nervously, looking at the window directly across from me, and sprint towards it, ignoring their shrieks of fear when I leap out of it without a warning.

The guards all shout out, having missed me again, and I laugh, climbing down the wall using easy handholds in the loose bricks. After dropping to the floor I brush my shirt off, wait for the monkey to land easily on my shoulder again, and casually start walking away, blending in with the crowd of people going about their daily business as if they never noticed the army of guards running a high-speed chase throughout the kingdom. Maybe they didn’t.

It doesn’t take long for me to find a deserted alley, far from where the men lost me, and I slide down against a wall, pulling out the bread. I split it down the middle and hand the one half to the monkey, who immediately shoves half of it in its mouth. I’m about to do the same (because despite having just played a literal prince who lived in a castle with what was probably a never-ending supply of food, I didn’t eat a single thing throughout the story and I’m starving), but a small scuffling sound catches my attention before I can take a bite.

Immediately on edge, I stand and creep closer to a little side-alley, the entrance half-covered by a tattered cloth hanging above it. The alley goes silent as I approach and I frown, reaching out to pull the cloth away. Instead of another guard like I was expecting, a small girl was sitting on the floor next to a tipped-over trash can, her hands filthy as if she was digging through it before being caught. My breath catches at the fear in her eyes and I crouch down, making myself meet her at eye level.

“Are you alright?” I ask, keeping my voice gentle, and the girl relaxes a little bit. She nods meekly, then her eyes dart to the half loaf in my hand just as her stomach growls. I smile. “Hungry?” Another nod. I’m not even thinking about my own stomach as I hand her the bread, looking over my shoulder at the monkey who was hugging its half to its chest. I give it a look. “Come on, don’t be rude.” It almost huffs at me (I didn't know monkeys could make such a sound) and hands the bread over, rolling its eyes.

The little girl smiles gratefully, looking on the verge of tears, and I’m quick to walk away after nodding in what was hopefully a reassuring way. I don’t know how to deal with emotions or comfort people. Penny likes to say getting emotional support from me is like trying to get financial advice from a toddler. Harsh, but ultimately true in the end, if I’m being honest.

I take a step out onto the street and immediately rush forwards, reaching for two little kids running out in front of an oncoming horse. The horse startles, jumping up, and I roll away, releasing the kids at the side of the road, panting slightly. A growl makes me look up at the person directly behind me, who happens to be a very angry-looking woman. She glares down at me and I cringe, looking back at the horse. It was a massive horse that initially spooked me, but the rider was what really caught my attention. Once again, I found myself staring up at Agatha, but this time she was scowling down at me in disgust.

“Get out of my way, commoner.” I frown, squinting up at her.

“Agatha, what-?”

She shrieks. “How dare you address me in an informal way!”

I narrow my eyes. “Um, what?”

She scoffs and pulls at the reins of the horse, directing it towards the massive castle from earlier, and I shake my head, pulling myself to my feet. A smaller man puts a hand on my shoulder, looking up at me with a disapproving eye.

“I wouldn’t get on her bad side, kid. Rumors say she’s here to ask for the prince’s hand in marriage. If he accepts, she rules alongside him and you don’t want to have someone with that much power against you.” He stares off into the distance seemingly in a daze and shakes his head, walking away. Weird. I sigh, reaching down to pick up the monkey (who had fallen off when I dived into the road), and head back towards the tall, run down building I woke up in. Surely the guards were gone by now. As I start walking I let my mind wander, wondering who this “prince” was. Baz, maybe? It’d make sense, now that I think about it. Agatha always seemed more interested in him than me.

Still even then, I hope Baz didn’t have as much of an... eventful morning as I did.

Baz

I woke up to a fully grown tiger standing over my fucking face. Yes, you read that right. A FULLY GROWN TIGER. Standing DIRECTLY over me. Now, it didn’t look like it wanted to eat me, but looks can be deceiving, and I wasn’t about to let myself die in such an over-the-top (and, honestly, a very Simon) way. It’s below me.

So of course, I scream and roll off of the bed, falling onto the floor, and untangle my legs from my sheets, my mind racing as fast as my heart.

Is this another story? Which one has a tiger in it? Is there a Disney story with a tiger in it? Is this still Disney? What if it’s Dreamworks or something? Does Dreamworks have a movie with tigers? Oh my god, PLEASE tell me I'm not in fucking Kung Fu Panda-

The tiger slowly walks over to me as I hold my breath, shoving it’s massive head under my arm, and nuzzles into my side, seemingly perfectly content. I carefully run a hand over the bi-coloured fur, an answer to my questions feeling as if it’s just barely evading my memory. Then a knock sounds at the door and I call out, telling whoever it is to come in. A kind-looking woman steps in, smiling confusedly at me when she sees me on the ground next to the tiger, who’s watching her with a slightly intense stare.

“I see you’re both awake.” I nod, still trying to piece together minute details. What story what story what story- “The newest princess has arrived today, and before you interrupt me saying you don’t want to speak to her-” I close my mouth, despite only wanting to ask who the hell this “newest princess” was and why she was here. “-Just know that your father insists that she’s the perfect match for you.” I roll my eyes without thinking, that one sentence having brought up hundreds of memories of my father attempting to set me up with some girl or another at social events.

“I think I’m fine right here.” The woman shakes her head.

“You know that’s not an option. Please get ready to meet your father in the throne room.” Then she’s gone.

I huff, running my hands through my hair, and let my head fall back onto the mattress behind me. You figured out what was happening last time, you can do it again. Let’s see.

Tiger.

Royalty (I’m assuming).

Looking for a suitor.

Interior of the castle looks foreign, from what’s in this room.

I pause. None of the newer movies should have most of these things, since they’re all remakes now. So that rules those out. Classics, then?

Cinderella: No, for obvious reasons.

Snow White: Not matching with anything I’ve mentioned thus far, so it’s a no as well.

The Little Mermaid: Again, obviously no.

Same with Mulan, Pocahontas, Sleeping Beauty, and Beauty and the Beast.

So that leaves… Aladdin? Wait, of course. It would make the most sense, if it’s still Disney princess tales.

I turn my head, still resting against the mattress, and look at the tiger with a tired expression.

“You have got to be shitting me.” It blinks back at me with a… surprisingly apologetic look? and I wave it off. “I’m talking to a tiger. If I get out of here I’m making Bunce pay for the therapy I’ll surely need.” It huffs, shaking its head slightly, and I smile. Maybe this won’t be as bad. At least I woke up on an actual bed this time.

I slowly get up and ready, putting on the outfit laid out by the woman from earlier. A pair of pale blue pants that are loose everywhere except the ankles and waist, just like the movies, an embroidered cloth that wraps around my waist, partially covering the waistline of the pants, and what looks like a really fancy long sleeved crop top (thank Merlin I wasn’t given a bloody bra like the films) with lovely swirls and designs embroidered on the sleeves and around my shoulders. Essentially just a masculine version of Jasmine’s (that was her name, I think?) outfit.

I make a mental note to myself to do some research on traditional Arabian clothing when I get out of here, since it’s becoming clear that I know next to nothing about their culture and despite what Simon may say, I’m not a complete asshole with no respect for other human beings and I do try to avoid offending people when I can help it.

The woman is waiting outside when I open the door, smiling kindly when I make eye contact. She gestures for me to follow her, (which I’m grateful for, this place is huge), and leads me through two tall doors into what I presume is the throne room. On a… well… throne, is a short, well dressed man, smiling happily when I walk into the room. I don’t recognize him, but I’m sure he “plays” my father. At least he’s not the Mage.

The (assumed) sultan waves me forward, beckoning me closer. I follow his nonverbal instructions hesitantly and he gestures to his side with the same bright smile. I stop next to him, holding my hands behind my back, and look down at my feet. It’s silent for a few seconds before the doors I entered through open once again, and in walks someone who immediately makes me want to run back to the comfortable bed from earlier and hide in the soft blankets with the bloody tiger. Again. You have got to be shitting me. None other than Agatha Wellbelove winks at me as she curtsies in front of the king.

Wonderful.

Chapter Text

Agatha

Penny’s acting strange.

Now, normally that wouldn’t be unusual. After all, Penny is a generally strange person. It comes from being so close to Simon, I’m sure. (I’m not jealous, I swear. I just… wish they weren’t so… touchy all of the time.) But her recent behavior (read: not making eye contact despite being in the middle of a conversation with me; constantly staring at a small handheld mirror she keeps pulling out of Merlin knows where; never not scribbling in her notebook) and the fact that Simon has been missing for nearly two days now has put me slightly on edge.

When I asked her about his disappearance she just told me it didn’t involve me and that I shouldn’t worry about it (what else is new?). This is when I usually drop it, assuming he’s just on a mission with the Mage and didn’t bother telling me beforehand. (Again. What else is new?) But this time, I couldn't help but notice…

Baz is also missing.

It could be purely coincidental, I told myself at first. Maybe a sickness. I mean, I haven’t once seen Baz miss class because of an illness of any sort (Simon always insists it’s because “Vampires don’t get sick, Aggie.” and as questionable as Simon’s ridiculous theory is, I’ve just come to assume that Baz simply doesn’t get ill). But still. Anything could happen.

They could have gotten into yet another fight that landed them both in the infirmary. It wouldn’t be the first time. Although, I stopped by around lunch yesterday to see if I could catch a glimpse of either boy and was met with a very grumpy nurse asking if she could assist me in any way. No sign of the two missing students.

So. Penny has been acting strange. Simon and Baz are missing and nobody wants to tell me where they’ve gone off to. (I did overhear Gareth say something to Trixie about the two of them falling through the solid floor in Possibelf’s class but dismissed him immediately because that’s absolutely ridiculous). Penny immediately reached over and shushed him anyways, which just convinced me further of her possible loss of sanity.

“Oh! Penny!” I call out across the grounds, spotting her sitting cross-legged under a large tree surrounded by many library books, notebooks, and the small mirror she’d been practically glued to since Simon went missing. She doesn’t even so much as glance up at me as I start towards her, just pausing whatever she was writing in one of the numerous notebooks for a second before continuing as if she had never been interrupted. I huff, reaching her spot, and let my bag drop to the crook of my elbow, brushing my hair away with my free hand.

I clear my throat and her writing speeds up until I’m not entirely sure the words are remotely legible before she finishes the sentence and snaps the notebook shut, shoving it in her bag. Finally, finally, she looks up at me, squinting past the sunlight reflecting off of her glasses behind me.

“Oh, hello Agatha. Care to join me?” I roll my eyes at her weirdly formal invitation (seriously, why doesn’t she talk like a normal teenager?) but carefully drop onto the grass regardless, letting my bag fall off of my arm next to me.

“Anything from Simon?” I ask, and she immediately starts fidgeting, pursing her lips and narrowing her eyes at a spot slightly over my shoulder. I sigh, looking away from her. This has also been happening since the... disappearance. Anytime I bring up Simon or Baz (I’m careful to not mention Baz too much in front of her, she might start to think I’m growing an obsession like Simon) she gets all nervous and changes the topic as soon as there’s an opening.

“Nope. I’ve heard nothing. You?” I shake my head, giving her a blank stare that hopefully conveys the utter stupidity of that question.

“No. I didn’t know he was even gone until you said something.” She frowns and makes eye contact with me for a brief moment before directing her stare down to her lap, then to a notebook to her left, then to the mirror next to that. I follow her glance and feel my eyes widen as a familiar shade of bronze flashes against the glass before vanishing. Simon—?

“Is— Is the reflection in that mirror… moving?!” Penny laughs nervously and frantically picks it up, pulling it against her chest, out of my view. I glare at her (not too hard, my mother’s voice echoing “careful, you’ll get wrinkles making a face like that” in my mind) and cross my arms, leveling her with an unimpressed look. She shrugs, still giggling slightly in that panicked way, and holds the mirror closer.

“Pssh, whaaaaat? No, no. Images in mirrors can’t move, Agatha! Heh… Yeah. That’s ridiculous.” Again, she immediately avoids eye contact, and I tilt my head to the side, frowning. Liar.

“You’re hiding something. And that something has something to do with that mirror.” Her eyes grow wider and more panicked and I take a moment to consider letting her off the hook before mentally shaking my head at myself. You deserve answers, don’t cave.

Penny tugs a strand of curly hair roughly behind her ear and shoves the mirror into a… pocket? Female uniforms don’t have pockets, though, my mind (un)helpfully pipes in.

I sigh, making my frustration clear in the sound, and push my own hair behind my ears. “Are you seriously not going to tell me?” Penny looks guilty for a second, good, before she shakes her head, a determined glint lighting up in her eyes. Not good.

“I can’t say. It’s… not my place.” I groan, tipping my head back. She seriously could not be more vague and cryptic right now, I swear.

“Well, can you say anything?” She looks up at the branches hanging above our heads and considers my question before humming.

“It has something to do with my original spell assignment.” I squint at her because wow, that literally answers none of my questions, and nod slowly.

“So, it’s about your project, but you can’t tell me anything because it’s not your place. That makes no sense,” I argue, hoping she sees the obvious flaw in her explanation. She huffs, giving me an annoyed look, as if I was the one being absolutely ridiculous, and starts shoving her notebooks in her bag.

“It makes perfect sense, you just don’t have the proper information to make that call for me.” She glares at me (it’s actually a little intimidating) and I lean back a bit as casually as possible, watching her silently sling her now-full bag over her shoulder and stomp away, heading back to Cloisters.

I groan again, dropping back to lie on the grass, and stare up at the green leaves hanging above my head.

Penny is acting strange. And I’m going to find out why.

Chapter Text

Baz

You know, not even five days ago (have we really been stuck in this spell for five days? time is relative anyways) the most pressing of my issues was restricted solely to getting enough blood in me without Simon noticing and/or giving me up to the Mage and completing my final spell, ensuring my place as first in our class.

Now? I would give anything —and I mean anything— if it meant going back to the least of my worries being Simon exposing my vampirism to the entire school.

Because there is nothing more painful, more absolutely excruciating, than awkwardly sitting next to Agatha-fucking-Wellbelove in silence while she slowly gives up trying to partake in one-sided small talk with me.

I suppose it’s not entirely her fault. But I’ll still be bitter about it.

By now I’ve accepted that I’m stuck in yet another fairy tale. One that involves a significantly large amount of villainy, and by association, the Mage, in it.

Hooray.

I should know what to expect this time. I’ll sneak out to go to the market, nearly get my hand chopped off by an asshole with anger management issues, get saved by Simon (woe be me), have a Moment[TM] in his shabby home (again. woe be my entire fucking life), reveal my identity to the guards, scream at the Mage —assuming he’s the villain again— for arresting Simon (that’ll be fun), then everything else should play out with no additional work required by me. At least not until the very end.

This was one of my favorites to watch with Mordelia due to her constantly complaining about the inconsistencies in the plot (“seriously, why did Jafar feel the need to consult a magickal being when he could have just murdered the sultan and princess and be done with it?”) while I tried to debunk her arguments (“because someone surely would have caught on to his plot when they both suddenly were murdered; also magic genie powers, come on Mordelia.”).

(Or a morbid but favorite comment of mine by her that I still do not have an actual answer for, “what would that shopkeeper have done with her hand after severing it if Aladdin never showed up?” It still haunts me to this very day.)

Sometimes she’s a little too inquisitive for her age.

I remember the last time we watched Aladdin. It was last Christmas break, since Mordelia insisted the two of us watched it despite the film having nothing to do with the holidays and I gave in because she pulled out her bambi eyes (yes, we watched Bambi the previous summer break as well and she must have practiced the look in the mirror countless times since then; I always cave) and I haven’t had enough time nor exposure to grow immune to them quite yet. At this rate, she could give me the Look and ask for a bloody pony (or dragon, that seems much more her style) and I’d barely hesitate.

Anyways, about halfway through Friend Like Me she had paused the film and asked me what I would ask for if I were to ever find a magic lamp. At the time, I had given her a basic, silly answer like ’an endless supply of your mother’s Christmas cookies’ just to indulge her. Now that I’m actually in the story I almost want to take her question seriously, despite not ever being the master of the lamp throughout the story. (Don’t think I didn’t notice that I’m the princess again. I don’t like what this spell is implying, yet I still hear Simon’s clueless ‘although it is odd that you’re the princess out of the two of us’ echoing in my head on repeat.)

Agatha clears her throat, bringing me back to the present and out of my increasingly risqué thoughts about an idiotic fool wandering somewhere out in the kingdom. (Which is probably for the best). I scowl at her on instinct and she crosses her arms, sticking her nose up at me.

“You do realize a conversation goes both ways, right?” I roll my eyes.

“No, I’m completely stupid. Do enlighten me —and use as many details as possible. Less talking for me.”

She scoffs, turning to glare out at the large wall surrounding the garden we’re seated in. The garden itself is very calming and picturesque, despite the tension in the air, and I find myself relaxing as I stare at a rose bush not far off from where I’m sat on the edge of a grandiose fountain. She opens her mouth to speak again but cuts herself off with a squeak, encouraging me to glance at her now-pale face. I follow her line of sight to find her completely focused on the tiger from earlier (now confirmed Rajah) who’s prowling towards her slowly, it’s gaze fixed unwaveringly on her face.

I allow a smile to grace my lips and turn to her again, feigning innocence.

“Oh, do you not like cats? I assure you, he’s very sweet when you get past the bloodlust and sharp fangs.”

Oh, the irony.

Internally cackling at the way she somehow gets even paler, seriously, she’s giving me a run for my money, I lean back on my hands, watching the tiger get up in her face. He stares at her intently before she lets out another squeak and bolts, shoving past him and screeching about “not getting eaten by a bloody tiger, not to-fucking-day, nope nope nope-“ and I allow myself to laugh loudly, grinning at the now amused-looking animal.

“Good boy, Rajah.” I pet his giant head, rubbing a hand through his fur, and smile wider when he emits a pleased huff, pushing closer. After we got… *ahem* ...acquainted this morning and I’ve figured out what’s happening, I’ve immediately warmed up to the kind creature. We stay like that, basking in the warm sun in relative silence, before the sultan storms into the gardens, glaring at me in disapproval.

Jokes on him, I think. I’ve seen that look on my real father so many times I’m practically immune to its intended effects. And Malcom Grimm is much more intimidating than this five foot man with the appearance of a worn-down teddy bear.

“Basilton!” The sultan exclaims, waving his arms around in his stress. “You cannot keep doing this! At least give them a chance.” I frown, glaring at the ground next to Rajah’s tail, and blow a strand of hair out of my face.

“Father, I don’t love any of these people.” I love Simon. And he’s most definitely not here.

“Sometimes, leaders must give up some things for the greater good of their country. Agatha is a lovely girl.” I scoff, ready to argue, but he cuts me off. “I learned to grow to love your mother. We hated each other at first.” He stares at me expectantly as if waiting for me to respond and I glare back defiantly, keeping my lips pressed tightly closed. He sighs, then continues his lecture about responsibility.

I stand, making my way towards the large bird cage I noticed when I walked in (or out, I suppose), then open the latch, hesitating and looking back at the sultan instead of opening the door. Then I say something I’ve told my own father many times, fully expecting him to completely disregard the words but still feeling the need to say them:

“I refuse to give up my freedom of choice for something that can wait a few more years.” Then, “I’m in no rush to figure out my life, and that’s all that matters.”

With that, I turn back to the cage and pull the door open, watching the birds all spring into motion. They circle around each other after leaving the enclosure and fly off, leaving me squinting at the sun for a second before turning back to the exasperated man before me.

He sighs, scratching his forehead with a small hand, and shakes his head. “Fine, fine. You win, for now. I must go.” He walks away, posture slumped and defeated, and I take a moment to feel slightly bad about brushing him off before Bunce’s voice floats back to me.

Stick to the story. Don’t change the plot.

I groan, dragging my hands down my face, and give the tiger a tired look. “Any advice?” It shakes its head at me and I huff out a laugh, shaking my head. “Aaaaand I’m still talking to a tiger. You’ve officially lost it, Basilton.”

Simon

It’s the morning after I first arrived in the next story and I still have no idea which tale it is.

Which is probably an issue.

I turn to the monkey, who hasn’t left me alone since we arrived back at the rundown building I woke up in. It keeps looking at me, nudging me, sometimes even full on shoving me. Finally, after about four more minutes of this, I huff and face it head-on.

“Yes?” It perks up and grabs my hand, dragging me forward with surprising strength. I hop to my feet and head towards the entrance (not the window this time) and slowly make my way down the broken foundation of the building. Only when we step out onto the street do I hear the monkey’s stomach growl, reminding me of my own hunger and our lost meal this morning.

Something tells me I don’t have enough money to buy us some more and usually I’d be against stealing because my moral code is particularly pointed towards the inherently good side (according to Penny) but I really don’t feel like starving before I get the chance to find Baz.

Which could take a while, because once again I’m stuck in a massive kingdom with no hints as to what the fuck is happening.

The monkey hops on top of what looks to be a melon cart in the street and I position myself in a place close enough to grab one yet out of sight of the man running the cart. None of it's real, so technically, it’s not a real crime, yeah? Nobody’s getting hurt from losing one melon either. Yeah. It’s fine. An odd clicking sounds from behind the man and he turns around, shouting out when he sees the monkey holding a melon.

I use that distraction as a chance to reach forward and grab one, swiftly passing the cart and peeking over my shoulder at the raging man trying to grab the monkey. He didn’t seem to notice my existence at all, let alone the fact that I tripped over the cart’s wheel and jostled it a bit as I passed.

I pretend not to notice a suspiciously Baz-sounding voice in my head hiss, “Nice going, you absolute disaster. Might as well just throw the fruit at his head and scream ‘Arrest me! I’m stealing an entire fucking watermelon from an innocent man!’”

It’s not working.

I whistle once loudly, calling the monkey to me, and it sticks its tongue out at the man, waving when it settles on my shoulder. Smug little creature, isn’t it?

I let the monkey take the fruit and do whatever with it for the time being, perfectly happy with making my way down the street casually back to the abandoned building I’m taking residence in. I’m waving off a woman holding pearls out to me when I hear a cry, up the street by an apple cart. A young man, from the looks of the back, is being held in place by a very large and intimidating man, who is obviously downright pissed at something.

At least, I’d assume so, since he’s very clearly seconds away from hacking at the younger man with what looks like a giant butcher's knife. (Why would a man at an apple cart have one of those on hand, anyways?)

Something in me tells me to step in so despite another voice screaming at me to run away from the danger or pretend I saw nothing like everyone else in the general area I rush forward and grab the large man’s wrist just before he can swing it at the younger man.

“Hey, now. Let’s not make any rash decisions! We’re all friends here, right?” The man glowers at me and I swallow nervously, turning to check on the person behind me, only to find his entire face shadowed by the scarf wrapped over his head and shoulders. I think I might be able to make out the smallest smile from under the pale blue fabric.

“This man tried to steal from my cart. He has to pay the price,” says Scary Man. Surprisingly, before I can find an answer that would get the other man out of here with no serious injuries he speaks up for himself, his voice weirdly familiar.

“I didn’t steal, the child was starving.” To prove his own point, he gestured to a small boy hiding behind a post nearby, watching fearfully with an apple clutched in his shaking hands. I raise an eyebrow.

“See? Simple misunderstanding. I’m sure…”

“I'm not telling you my name.”

“...this lovely man would be more than happy to come back and pay you later, yeah?” Scary Man shakes his head.

“Nice try. But it won’t work. Step aside, street rat.”

I scoff, putting one hand on my hip and gesturing wildly with the other. “Okay, first of all, that’s the second time I’ve been called that today and it’s really starting to get old, honestly. See how you like getting called a rodent by a homicidal stranger. Secondly,” I pause, subtly reaching back and taking the other man’s hand, then whirl around, pulling him with me, “Run!”

The man starts yelling again and I throw a grin at the young man over my shoulder, sighing with relief when I feel a small weight land on my back once again. The monkey was safe still, then.

We all jerk to a stop in front of the building I’m staying in and I carefully lead the way up to the top, much slower than I have been going since waking up for the benefit of the stranger still with me. He let go of my hand a while ago (which I’m weirdly bummed about, but I try not to think about that) and was actually making his way up with little trouble.

I push the trapdoor open and pull myself through the opening, holding a hand out again to help the man up, smiling when he seems flustered at the contact. I still can’t see his face entirely but a nagging voice in the back of my head won’t stop telling me I’m missing something, that it should be obvious who’s under the scarf.

“Um, this is it, I guess.” I scratch the back of my neck, watching the man glance around with a detached look. My hands itch to make the place tidier, nice enough to impress the stranger, despite having no idea who he is. I grin, getting an idea, and take his hand again, grinning wider when I hear a small squeak come from him that I’m sure was meant to be hidden. He follows me without protest up the crumbling stairs, although I can sense his hesitance as he pauses minutely at the bottom of the unstable structure before continuing after me.

Gesturing to a makeshift bench made of what looks like a large piece of broken concrete, I wait for him to sit before pulling the tarp covering the large hole that probably once housed a lovely window overlooking the entire kingdom. The view takes the man’s breath away and his small gasp sparks a giddy feeling in my chest. I inhale sharply and watch him stare (assumedly, I still can’t see his face) wide-eyed at the castle in the distance.

The monkey taps my foot and I flinch, frowning down at it. “What is it?” The monkey huffs, reaching a hand out, and presents an apple to me. I put a hand to my chest and smile, gasping dramatically. “Oh, you do care!” It rolls its eyes (again, didn’t know monkeys could do that) and storms off, probably in pursuit of its own food.

When I turn back to the stranger he’s watching me with an odd fondness (I don’t question how I somehow knew that despite not being able to see his face) that he quickly covers up by turning away. I frown again, being reminded of Baz at the ball, and hold the apple out, watching the man startle when he notices my offer.

“Oh, you don’t have to-“ I shake my head.

“No, I insist. Really, it’s okay.” He hesitates for a beat before caving and reaching forward to take the fruit.

“Thank you,” he says, his voice almost a whisper. I smile softly.

“No problem.” We sit in silence, staring out at the castle, and I debate internally whether or not it’s awkward. Eventually I settle on ‘not if you don’t make it awkward’ and take a small breath, still watching the palace in the distance.

“It must be nice, living in the castle. I wonder what it’s like.” The stranger sighs, picking at one of his nails, and ducks his head.

“Suffocating. Nothing like being free to roam the kingdom whenever you please.” That response was a little too certain and bitter to be a random guess.

I raise my eyebrows, dropping onto the “bench” next to him, and bump his shoulder, hoping to get some more information on this nameless stranger. “Speaking from experience?” He curled into himself and fiddled with the apple, tossing it from hand to hand absentmindedly.

“Of course not.” The answer was quick, said in a chipper voice that screamed “definitely.”

I laugh lightly, bumping shoulders again, and squint out at the very far distance behind even the palace. Hundreds, maybe thousands, of sand dunes can be seen in the deserted lands out there stretching miles away from the kingdom, nothing else visible in the barren area from our place in the building.

This time I know immediately that the silence is definitely comfortable, in a way that gives me the familiar nagging again, as if my mind is telling me ‘you’re really close! something’s off and you know what it is, you just need to remember!’ and it’s very confusing. I know for a fact I’ve never been in this situation (obviously) so I’m not sure why I keep feeling this odd sense of deja vu.

I open my mouth, turning to face the nearly-silent stranger, when the trapdoor bursts open, revealing the guard from earlier. I groan, standing and facing him as he pulls himself up again. “Seriously? You again?”

He grins creepily at me and cracks his neck, obviously thinking I’m cornered with someone else with me. By then the stranger was up on his own feet, glancing between the guard and me with apprehension. I curse when I hear more footsteps making their way up the rickety ladder to the trapdoor and rush towards the window ledge, turning towards the stranger with a hand held out.

He hesitates and I sigh exasperatedly, already itching to get away from there. “Do you trust me?” He looks shocked (or at least, I think so, I still can’t see his face. his… body language?? looked shocked??), taking a small half step back before nodding firmly.

He takes my hand and I drag him into my side right before the guard can reach out and grab him, then tip backwards, pulling us into a freefall. The stranger muffles a scream in my weird vest-thing I’m wearing and I tighten my hold around him, waiting for us to hit the massive pile of fabric I saw directly under the window earlier.

Convenient, the wonders of movie magic are.

The second we make contact I let go of him and roll forward, pulling us both to our feet and sprinting down the alley we landed in before he could gather his bearings. Only, when we reach the end of the small side street four guards block our path, forcing us to turn around, where we encounter three more. This time there’s no more windows to escape through. I’m not entirely sure where the monkey is.

All around, not the best situation to be in, not gonna lie.

Baz

Simon Snow is an idiot.

We all know this. We have for quite some time now, yet he never fails to surprise me. Sometimes, he likes to remind me exactly how stupid he is and I feel the need to express as much directly.

This absolute numpty has been talking to me for well over fifteen minutes and still has no idea it’s me he’s talking to. At first I thought it was a joke, just him messing with me. But no. I have lived with him for literal years yet he struggles to recognize the sound of my voice? One wouldn’t think our entire childhood is ample time to get acquainted with someone’s voice. He’s impossible. I will never understand him.

Then his completely reasonable approach to multiple men with swords running at us was to leap out of a ninth story window. With me. In his arms. Seriously, I wasn’t kidding earlier when I said my undead heart couldn’t take it. I’m positive it stopped beating the second I felt his arms around me. (Although that might have been the free-falling from a ninth story window).

And now we’re cornered and I’m nearly certain Simon is more worried about the goddamn monkey than the fact that we’re completely surrounded by guards with orders to capture both of us.

Why am I in love with this imbecile again?

I actually scoff out loud when I hear him mumble, “Okay yeah, this could be a little better.”

“No, really,” I drawl, watching his eyes widen in what I hope is realization. He turns to me slowly, seemingly forgetting the guards around us, and I cross my arms over my chest, rolling my eyes at him.

“B—“

“—Yeah. It’s me, dimwit.” He pouts at me, (no, it’s not adorable, I am not blushing, shut up), and I sigh, nudging my head obviously towards the men around us, reminding him of our situation.

He understands just a second too late, when the first guard pins his wrists behind him, shoving him to his knees roughly. In spite of myself, I step forward, intending on putting a hand out in front of me as if I was going to reach out and grab Simon, before stopping myself and standing up straight. Stick to the story.  

“Let him go,” I say instead. The guard holding him laughs.

“Oh yeah? And what gives you the authority to order me around?” I smirk to myself and reach up to grab the scarf, pulling it out of my face and glaring at the man.

“My title as crowned prince of Agrabah should do the trick, I presume.” The man sputters, sharing a shocked look with the guards around him, before all of them drop to their own knees and bow down to me. Simon winces as the guard’s grip gets tighter around his wrists and I demand the man lets him go free. He rubs the back of his hand with one of his hands, still holding Simon securely with the other.

“I’m sorry, your Highness, but I’m afraid I cannot do that. My orders come directly from the royal vizier.” I scowl at him, crossing my arms. Simon gives me a look, like he knows I’m being overdramatic, but I couldn’t give less of a fuck what he thinks, this is honestly sort of… fun.

Also, being able to annoy Snow so easily is always a bonus.

“I assure you, my father will be hearing about this.” The guard swallows and wipes some sweat off of his forehead and I have to hide a smile at his nervous fidgeting. Yes, be uncomfortable. I thrive on your unease.

Simon shakes his head, squinting at me with an odd look on his face, and I wink at him before turning around and storming away.

Simon

He winked at me.

That cocky bastard winked at me.

I can't believe him. He has the audacity to leave me here with them, too! It pisses me off for some reason— his confidence, I mean. At least, I’d assume anger is the emotion responsible for the burning in my chest. It would make the most sense. Anger towards Baz is familiar. Reassuring. Maybe even calming, in its own twisted way.

Although I must be very mad if it’s making my stomach feel odd as well. Almost like it’s filled with static or something, just constantly buzzing when he does something particularly Baz-like. I also felt the static at the royal ball, which is odd because I wasn’t remotely angry then. That’s never happened before we were put in the spell.

I’m sure it’s fine.

My musing is cut short when the guard growls and ties my hands together, leading me down many side alleys that avoid the main street.

We stop in a deserted alley and I turn to the guard in confusion, about to ask why we weren’t moving anymore, when a fist comes flying at my face at a speed that barely registers before everything goes dark.

Well, this just keeps getting better and better, doesn’t it?

Chapter Text

I’ve never been drunk before—so I can’t exactly speak from experience—but I’m pretty sure this is what a hangover feels like.

My head is pounding, the very little sunlight that reaches my eyes is personally attacking my will to live, and for some reason I’m sore in places I didn’t think I could be sore, despite not having recently done anything strenuous (to my knowledge).

In shorter terms: I feel like fucking shit.

I’m chained to a wall, hanging from a fixture, which oddly enough isn’t my first concern (it probably should be, but since when do I care about making sense?). I’m more worried about the fact that I’m underground, from the looks of it.

There’s a huge window at the very top of the chasm-looking place I’m locked in. I’m pretty sure there’s a pile of bones in the corner, species to be determined. As far as interior design goes, it could use some work.

I briefly wonder how the guards got me here without drawing suspicion but dismiss the thought as irrelevant to escaping. (But. Still. How did they manage that?)

A familiar clicking sound drags my eyes up to the ridiculous window and I meet the smug face of a certain monkey.

“Well, hello again. Nice of you to finally join me.” It doesn’t respond (which is to be expected, in hindsight), instead crawling through the window and climbing down the jagged stone wall. It makes quick work of the cuffs around my wrists and I shake out my hands, trying to gain feeling in them.

Once it gets my attention again it sends me an expectant look, as if it’s waiting for something. I squint at the creature.

“Thank... you..?” It huffs and turns away, clearly annoyed, and I stifle a laugh. I’ve seen Penny give me that look thousands of times when I’m being particularly stupid and I’m well past immune to it by now.

At the moment I’m about halfway through plotting an escape plan that involves screaming up at the abyss until some guard or another gets pissed off and tries to shut me up. They had to get me down here somehow, right? I just need to find out where the door is. If they used a door.

Wait. Ladders are a thing. And ropes.

Fuck.

“Excuse me, young man.” I jump, taking a few steps away from the voice, and screech in surprise. It’s a high pitched, embarrassing sound, and I try to distract from it by tugging at my hair nervously.

Only, it doesn’t seem to calm me down anymore. All I can think about is Baz’s concerned yet disapproving face, a cold hand pulling at my wrist, and “Stop, you’re hurting yourself.”

Fucking hell, can I ever catch a break from that bastard?

I’m genuinely shocked out of my thoughts when I see the small, old, almost withered man hobbling out of the shadows in rags, looking seconds away from kicking it right here and joining the mystery bones in the corner. He grins creepily at me and shows off his five-toothed smile. One looks like it’s made of gold or something. Maybe copper—?

Priorities, Simon. Focus on the important things.

The man laughs, the sound making me flinch at its dry, broken sort of tone. How long has this guy been here?

“Didn’t mean‘ta scare ya there!” I feel my face heat up and I look up at the ceiling window.

“You didn’t,” I say quickly. He lets out another laugh and I wince at the sound.

“Sure, kid. Say, what’d’ya say we get outta ‘ere?” I stare at his eager face for a second incredulously before tipping my head back, spreading my arms out wide.

“And how, may I ask, do you plan on getting us out?”

It takes a full minute or two of him staring at me in complete silence where I slowly start to question his sanity (and general health as a whole, is it possible to die while on your feet and remain standing?) before the man blinks and laughs again, shaking his head at me. “Silly boy. I have my ways.”

Because that’s not ominous at all.

He hobbles past me and reaches out with a cane-looking thing to poke at the wall.

“Uh, sir, are you…are you okay?” He waves me off and laughs again.

“Yeah, of course. Just need to… find… aha!” The cane wedges between two stones and they split apart easily, revealing a hidden tunnel.

“Woah,” I whisper, leaning closer to peer inside. The older man holds me back with the cane and grins at me.

“Ah, ah. Not yet. I believe I can be of some assistance to you.” I push the cane away and step back, wary. On the one hand, I don’t know this guy. But he’s been right helpful so far and maybe I can help him in return.

“How so?” He grins again (slightly less creepy now) and tosses the cane away.

“Wh… what-“

“You wouldn’t mind if I shed a few layers, right?” I stutter out something that might be an affirmative, because he pulls the large shawl thing off of his back and… spits out the golden tooth? Before I can ask why exactly he thought it was necessary to don a fake tooth he stands up straight and gives me a wide, familiar smile. What is this motherfucker doing here—

“Sir?” I gape up at him and he pats my shoulder, passing me to retrieve the cloth and cane.

“Yes, Simon. It’s me. I believe I have found a way to get you out of here.” That gets my attention.

“You what?” He nods absentmindedly, still gathering random items from around the room.

“Yes, you heard me. The only downside is that it would be very difficult, but I think I— we can pull it off. It would have to be soon, and very well executed, which may be a bit of a challenge for you, but I’m sure we can manage.” I shake my head, still reeling from that bit of information. He could get us out?

“Wait, how though? We don’t know where Baz is.” He gives me a look, the one that tells me he thinks I’ve missed a very obvious point he was trying to make.

“Why is Mr. Pitch relevant?” I stare dumbly, realizing I really am missing an obvious point.

“Uh.”

“Simon, listen. I know you like to play the hero and save everyone, even those who decidedly do not deserve saving. But you’re going to have to use your brain for this one and actually think.” Ouch. “Just imagine! This could solve so many of our problems! Get Pitch out of the way, and we can easily overcome the Old Families!”

“Uh, sir, I’m not sure if—“

“And think! Oh, the leverage we would have! The heir to the Pitch fortune, trapped in a spell. The Old Families would bow to our every whim! The war would be won before it even started! We could finally gain control over everyone trying to oppose me— us!”

“Sir—“

The Mage turns to me, eyes bright. “And you, Simon! You’d be able to live up to your destiny! The prophecies would be true, and nobody would ever doubt me— doubt us again! Don’t you see? This could solve all of our problems!”

I struggle to keep up. “Okay, yeah, sure, but what about Baz?” The Mage huffs.

“What about him? I’m sure he’s living a perfectly lovely life in a castle of some sort right now! He’d be fine.” I shrug. It makes sense, but something about it isn’t sitting right with me. Many things, actually, but one in particular.

“Okay, but he has a life too, right? Like, what about school?” The Mage scoffs. Figures.

“He’s doing fine academically. Anyways, he’s already missed plenty of classes due to this spell. Nobody would blame us for this. It’ll be fine.” I nod. Okay. Okay. As much as I hate to admit it, that makes sense. I decide to go along with his plan for now.

“So how would we get out of here?” The Mage snaps his fingers and grins, pointing at me.

“The question you should be asking is what we are doing after we get out.” Then he points to the tunnel—oh, duh—and gestures for me to pass through before him. “Come now, hurry. The faster we move, the faster you can get out of the spell. I’ll explain our next step on the way.”

“On the way to where?” I ask.

“I’ll explain on the way, Simon. Just trust me.” Instantly I nod my head.

He can get me out of here. And I won’t have to deal with Baz anymore. Win-win situation, yeah?

...Yeah.

***

We spend what feels like five minutes (oh, the glory of movie magic) walking after the tunnel drops us outside of the kingdom walls, surrounded by what seems to be never-ending desert land. In that time, the Mage tells me his “genius” plan that involves me somehow becoming the sultan.

(“How am I supposed to manage that?”

“I know it may seem distasteful, but you need to get the Prince, in this story, Basilton, to make you sultan.”

“Okay… how do I do that?”

“...Marriage, Simon. You need to convince the prince to marry you, that will make you the sultan.”

“I have to do what?!”

“It must be done. It’s the only way out of the spell. Luckily, where we’re heading right now will get you an item that will aid you in your quest. It’s hidden deep in what the people here call the Cave of Wonders. From there you’ll ‘woo’ the prince, convince him to trust you, then hope he proposes. It’s the only option we have.”)

After his (frankly, awful and vague) explanation of the plan, we approached a sand dune shaped… like a tiger? Huh. Don’t see that every day.

The jaws creak open and a deep, rumbling voice calls out from the darkness inside of the cave. “Who disturbs my slumber?” This thing was sleeping? How can a pile of sand sleep? The Mage pokes the cane into my back, shoving me forward with a nod.

I look back up at the glowing red eyes of the animal and swallow. “Uh, I’m Simon.”

The cave mouth doesn’t react vocally, but rather extends the jaw further and forms a staircase leading to a faint glow far below the opening. I look back at the Mage one more time.

“Just the lamp,” he reminds me, and oh yeah, he did mention a lamp earlier, didn’t he? I nod and face the cave, carefully stepping over the lip and descending the steps, monkey perched on my shoulder.

“Woah,” I can't help but gasp when I pass the threshold to the cavernous room filled with gold and jewels. Cave of Wonders indeed.

The monkey hops off of my shoulder to look around and I remind it to touch absolutely nothing that doesn’t look like a lamp. Why they would need a lamp to help aid me, I have no clue. What am I gonna do? Shine it on Baz? Give it to him as a gift? Does he even care for room decor? He would, fancy bastard.

We pass through the first room and step into the second, which looks mostly similar besides the massive tower of rocks on the far end across from where we entered, holding some shiny gravy-boat-looking thing at the top. Strange. Now where’s that lamp…

I’m looking up at the mountains of gold on the outskirts of the second room, completely distracted, and miss the literal lava river nearly directly below me. I’m only saved from what was sure to be my end by a loud, high pitched screech (courtesy of the monkey) and… the ground moving out from under my foot?

Unfortunately, it was the foot I was using to keep myself stable, so I was essentially launched face/first towards my molten doom.

Oh god. I didn’t even get to take down the Humdrum, or the Mage. What will Penny say? Or Baz? Wait, why would I care about Baz’s opinion on my death? He’s probably going to do a little dance over my grave every day to celebrate the loss of the worst chosen one to ev—

Oh.

Okay. 

So, I’m not dying. Or maybe I’m already dead, and this is the rug that’ll take me to the afterlife—or whatever happens when weird shitty magicians kick it.

“Uh, good… rug… thing,” I mutter, patting the fabric underneath me awkwardly.

One of the tassels lashes out and smacks my hand, and I somehow get the feeling of immense disappointment radiating towards me. From a carpet.

It dumps me very ungraciously onto the ground and I scowl, glaring at the thing. “Excuse you. There’s no need to be rude.” It moves of its own accord to stand up straight (that should not be possible) and flicks one tassel up and down on the ground, somehow conveying a tapping foot. I squint.

“Is it… what I called you? Because I swear I meant no offense.” It hops up until the air and floats over to me energetically, the top half bending into an enthusiastic nod.

“Uh. Okay. What would you prefer? Blanket?” A ‘head’ shake. (can you imagine, “on a magic blanket riiide, a whole new wooorld-“) “Floor mat?” Another. “Carpet?” Immediate positive reaction (don’t ask how I knew a bloody carpet was capable of feeling positivity, I wouldn’t be able to give you an actual answer that doesn’t involve me somehow being drugged or something).

I grin at the magical object and look around, gesturing widely. “Any chance you’ve seen a lamp around here?” I’m met with another enthusiastic nod and I perk up. “Can you tell me where?” The carpet flies up, up, to the top of the rock tower and gestures wildly with one of its tassels at the strange gravy-boat.

I deflate, waiting for it to come back down before responding, rubbing my hands over my face roughly. “Sorry to break it to you, but that’s not a lamp.” I receive a deadpan… vibe?? from the carpet and sigh into my hands.

“Wait… is that… is that a lamp here?” An instantaneous nod. Fuck. I bet Baz would know it’s a lamp. Wait—stop thinking about Baz, dammit! I sigh again, dragging my hands down my face. “So I gotta climb the huge tower thing?” Another nod. “And get the… lamp?” Another. “Aight.”

With the confirmation, I set off towards the rocks, avoiding the lava wherever I can. Climbing the tower isn’t too much effort because, well, I’m pretty fit, if I do say so myself. It comes with spending most of your childhood fighting monsters, I guess.

I’m reaching out towards the lamp when I hear what sounds like shattering glass and whip around, nearly losing my balance in the process. That would have been unfortunate, I think, looking down at the ground far below.

Then I see a blur of brown jump towards the carpet when a low, grumbling voice echoes throughout the room, but I don’t catch what it says before the ground breaks open and more lava spills from the cracks.

Shit.

“Hey, uh, carpet?” Said being turns towards me and seems to do a double take after noticing my… precarious position. It flies up towards me, monkey in tow, and stops directly below me.

I reach out and grab the lamp with one hand, using the other to steady myself against the rocks, and take a deep breath before leaping off the tower. The air whips past me for a second as I free-fall, filled with adrenaline, and for a second I wonder if I missed the carpet despite it being damn near impossible.

But not even a second later the breath is knocked out of my lungs as I fall back-first onto the fabric, sending the monkey flying from its spot near the edge. A hand reaches out of its own accord and grabs it by the tail, pulling it back onto the carpet, and I get a disgruntled screech in return.

The carpet takes off once it’s sure we’re both secure and we fly towards the first room at speeds that make my eyes water.

Seconds after we pass the doorway I turn back and hear a loud crack, watching as the ceiling caves in and blocks the doorway entirely.

Okay. Holy shit. Breathe.This is fine. This is—

WAS THAT A GIANT LAVA GEYSER?????

It was, in fact, a giant lava geyser by the main entrance to the cave (what kind of bloody cave has lava geysers, what the fuck) and it seemed to set off a chain reaction, more popping up and heading straight towards us.

The carpet loops around each of them in an impressive but ultimately unnecessarily terrifying way (seriously, why not just stick to the sides of the geysers since they’re just in the middle and avoid sending me into cardiac arrest?) and we make it to the entrance before the stairs cave (HA) in, leaving a sheer drop from the cave opening and the ground, which is completely covered in lava now. I see a human silhouette in the opening and sigh with relief. He’ll help me out, right? It’ll be fine.

We fly all the way to the top and the carpet moves almost close enough to get out before another crack sounds and a massive boulder falls from above, catching the corner of the carpet and dragging it down.

I leap away from the carpet with a small cry and grab the ledge of the opening, trying to pull myself up with one hand while gripping the lamp in the other.

The Mage reaches out and calls down to me. “Simon! Give me the lamp!”

I gasp as my arm strains from holding my body weight for so long and squint up at him.

“Help me up!”

“No, give me the lamp first! I need the lamp more than I need you!” Okay, ouch.

“Give me your hand—“

The Mage scoffs at me. “You’re not in any place to make demands here, Simon. Give me the lamp. Now.” I’m the one nearly dying, I think I have the right to ask for a fucking hand here. I hesitate, then eventually cave (HA) because my arm is shaking and something definitely feels like it’s been popped out of place. The second my other hand is free I reach out towards him with it.

“Now help me!”

He grins wickedly, staring down at me, and shakes his head. “No. No, I don’t think I will.”

I gasp, tears involuntarily burning behind my eyes at the heat growing below me and strain on my arms. “But—but you—“

He laughs mockingly. “Use your words, Simon.”

A strangled cry crawls its way out of my throat at the familiar phrase and I look up at him, the man I know is corrupt, evil, and manipulative. The man I still sort of think of as a mentor, despite all of this. I mean, yeah, he’s done awful things, but he thinks they’re right, that they’re okay, just because they line up with his ideals. I can't fault him for that, really. I can only hope to show him how he can fix his mistakes. Maybe I’m an optimist, though.

I look up at him, and I forget I’m in a spell.

I forget about Penny’s stories. I forget about finding Baz. I forget this is all fake, that none of this is actually happening. All I can process is that the one person that gave me a chance is watching me struggle and he’s smiling. He’s laughing, even.

He’s laughing, and I’m falling apart.

The last thing I see before everything goes dark is his foot, coming down hard towards my hand.

***

Slap.

“What the fuck.”

This is how I’m woken up. A slap to the face. By a tiny hand. Again. This better not become a regular occurrence.

The monkey huffs above me and I sit up, pushing my curls away from my face. My headache is way worse than it was when I woke up after being caught, which sucks, and now my fingers hurt like hell too. I squint up at the rocks above me. It looks like I’m in another dungeon, just without any windows or chains or secret doors in the walls.

Or backstabbing elderly hiding in the shadows.

Right.

I slowly rise to my feet and look for anything we can use to get out of here. A few feet away is the carpet, shaking out a tassel, and behind it is the lamp, tipped over on the floor. How did it—never mind I don’t want to know.

I stumble over to it and drop to my knees, picking it up carefully and inspecting the writing on the side. It’s in some foreign language I don’t know. Why did the Mage want me to get this?

“Is that a dent?” I murmur, holding it closer to my face. I swipe my thumb over it and squint. “Yep, that’s definitely a dent.” I’m about to turn it over when smoke starts shooting out of the little spout-thing on the end and curls into the air, forming a silhouette of some huge being. I jump to my feet, dropping the lamp, and wince at the clanging sound it makes as it hits the ground.

The smoke shimmers for a second before swirling quickly and with a massive burst of light it all vanishes, leaving some person-shaped creature with more smoke for legs (a singular leg?) screaming in pain and clutching the side of their head, back towards me.

My eyes widen and I step forward, reaching out to help in some way, when the creature moves their hand to reveal a giant dent right in their skull, barely visible in the dim room. Just like the lamp—

I scream and fall back, causing the creature to turn slightly, see me out of the corner of their eye, and scream back, which then prompts me to point at their head and scream again, and so on until a tiny hand slaps me across the face, snapping me out of my panic. Fucking hell. Again, with the slapping.  

The creature suddenly cuts off their scream and starts cackling, pointing a long, pointed nail at me. The dent quickly fixes itself, gone within seconds, and I have to stop and wonder if I’ve imagined the entire thing.

“You-Your face!” They waved their arms around and made a mock-terrified expression. “Aah!!” They gestured wiping away a tear, which seems like a little much in my opinion. “Hooooooo boy. You sounded like a little kid that got their horns stuck in the fence!”

I frown at them. Something about them seemed familiar, like earlier, before I knew it was Baz under the cloak—oh bloody hell if this is Baz right now—but I can't put a face to the creature due to the barely-existent lighting. Their hair swings wildly as they glance around the room, seemingly defying gravity.

“Oh, wow. It’s a little dark in here, yeah? Here,” the voice says, still sort of laughing, and claps twice, illuminating the entire room.

I blink a few times and see the monkey squinting at the ceiling of the room, hesitantly clapping twice then looking disappointed when nothing happens.

I make eye contact with the creature and gape at the familiar grin that greets me.

“Ebb?!”

Chapter Text

Penny

Everything is going as planned and I could not be happier. 

Well, almost. Mostly. Kind of. 

Agatha is being a major pain, which I suppose is understandable since her boyfriend and sort-of-but-not-really-stop-looking-at-me-like-that-penny crush has been missing for nearly a week and nobody can tell her where. (And what an awkward conversation that would be. “ Hey, sorry for the secrecy, your boyfriend is currently busy playing the love interest of his greatest enemy in a makeshift reality. Anywho, did you finish your Magickal History essay ?”)

Other than that minor annoyance, it’s going pretty damn well, if I do say so myself. I’ll be the last to admit this, but I’m getting a little cocky. 

Right now they’re in Aladdin, from the looks of it, and I’m 90% sure Simon has no idea what’s happening. I’m also certain he doesn’t know what a lamp is, but that’s a him problem. He got there eventually. 

At the moment, I’m taking notes and observing the mirror in Ms Posibelf’s class, tracking their progress so far. 

Simon has just gotten over his shock of seeing Ebb and now she’s probably introducing herself and the plot. Everything over there is on track for the story to go exactly how it’s expected to. 

Baz, on the other hand. Well. 

I think he’s honest-to-Merlin bored. 

At the moment, he’s feeding the tiger little bits of meat in the garden, staring off into space with a deadpan sort of disinterest in the world around him. I’m not sure how long he’s been there, but he didn’t seem all too concerned when the Mage told him about Simon’s sure demise so either he’s seen the movie and knows Simon is perfectly fine right now, chatting it up with an enigmatic genie, or he’s genuinely not affected by the news of Simon’s death. Which. 

Going with the way he raptor-gripped him in the previous story, I’d say Baz has been hiding his true intentions towards Simon for quite some time now. Which is fine. I’m not going to tell him how to live his life. He can pine from afar if he wants to. 

But if they get out of this spell on—at the very least—friendly terms and he so much as lays a single finger on Simon with ill intentions I will be paying him a very nice little visit at night while he’s sleeping and I will make him regret his very existence on this god-forsaken planet. 

It’s fine. This is fine. I’m fine. 

“Ms Bunce, please join me at the front for a project report.”

I smooth out my skirt and make my way over to Ms Posibelf’s desk, notebook and mirror held to my chest. She smiles at me. 

“How’s the spell going so far? Any issues?” I shake my head, then walk around the desk to expand the mirror out of sight from the other students. Don’t need any of them blabbing to Agatha. 

“Right now the most climactic event is Simon being absolutely clueless about the story they’re currently in.” Ms Posibelf raises an eyebrow. 

“I thought they were supposed to know every story?” I nod, tapping my pencil eraser to my lips.

“They do. Simon is just… well, let’s just say his memory is… spotty at best. I know he’s seen this movie before, since he’s mentioned it in the past, but there’s a high chance he’s forgotten a majority of it.” Ms Posibelf nods. 

“I suppose that makes sense. But how will he get through the plot if he doesn’t remember what happens?” I sigh, rubbing my eyes with my thumb and pointer finger. I stayed up most of last night (and the night before. and the night before that.) tracking the two to make sure nothing went wrong and the lack of sleep is starting to get to me. I’m pretty sure I’ve started hearing colours at this point. 

This is fine. 

“It’s somewhere in his subconscious, and this entire spell is based around them, so I’m hoping Ebb is going to explain the plan to him right now, if the Mage hasn’t already done that.” She nods again, then checks something on her clipboard and smiles at me. 

“That is all I need for now. Keep up the phenomenal work, and let me know if anything worth noting happens.” I thank her quickly and rush back to my seat after shrinking my mirror, already opening my notebook to scribble down a note in the margin of my paper, filled with little updates of Simon and Baz’s progress throughout the stories. 

Subject doesn’t seem to need to remember specific details to trigger the story, maybe just aspects from it? Like knowing about a genie, or magic carpet? 

The lead on my pencil snaps and I hiss, brushing away the graphite. Calm down. This is a minor setback, if you can even call it that. Everything is working. You did not send your best friend into an untested spell with any of these doubts, so don’t let ridiculous theories get in your way now. It’ll be fine. He’ll be fine. 

I take a deep breath and carefully sharpen the broken pencil, pointedly ignoring the mirror and my notes. 

Maybe a little break wouldn’t hurt too much, right?

Simon

“ Ebb?!”

“Hiya Simon!”

Ebb looks just as enthusiastic and earnest as usual. I raise my hand in a halfhearted, weak wave, trying to process everything. Ebb is here?? Why is Ebb of all people here?? And why did she come out of the—

Ohhhhhhhhhh. Okay, yeah. 

So, I’m a massive idiot. 

“You’re my… genie… aren’t you?” She nods, grinning at me. Okay, so I’m in Aladdin? I think? 

“Exactly right! I’m glad you finally figured it out!”

“How—“

“So, you know the rules,” she says, completely steamrolling over my question. “Three wishes, no wishing for death, love, or more wishes. Yadda yadda. Any questions?” I shake my head, more in an attempt to unscramble my thoughts than answer her question. 

“Uh.”

“Great! So, I’m guessing you’re just going to try to find Baz, right?” I nod, still shocked speechless. “Double great! Makes things easy for me. You just need to tell me how you want to get to him and I can probably make it happen.”

I finally shake out of my stupor enough to answer her. “Uh, can you… can you make me… hm.” I huff, frustrated, and tug at my hair— ‘Stop, you’re hurting yourself.’ —god dammit. 

The biggest problem I’m facing right now (among many many others) is the huge memory wipe that seems to have been cast over my mind. What was the first wish? Ebb watches me patiently, like she could genuinely wait all day for me to find the words. (which is good, because it might genuinely take that long. whoops.)

“Can you... make… me… OH. Can you make me a prince?” I spit it out as soon as I remember, then mentally pat myself on the back. Nice job, Simon. Absolutely brilliant. 

Ebb smiles knowingly. “Sure I can.” Her face shifts, immediately dead serious. “But it’ll hurt. A lot.” My eyes widen and I take a step back, but she grabs my shoulders and holds me in place with startling strength. I don’t remember this happening in the movie—?!

Then she starts chanting something, quickly and in a deep voice, scaring the shit out of me. 

“Ebb—wait, wait no, no let’s talk about this hold on—“

The pressure releases and she steps away, slapping my back while cackling. What the—

“Got ya! I’m just messin’ with ya, Simon! It won’t hurt a bit, I promise.” I pout, rubbing my back where she smacked me. 

“That was completely unnecessary.” She pats my cheek lightly and smiles apologetically. 

“Sorry Si. But you’ve been a clueless little kid this whole time—which is very irritating—and I’ve got to have my fun somehow.” I frown at her. 

“What do you mean by—“

“One prince, coming right up!” Once again completely ignoring me, she pretends to roll up her sleeves (she’s wearing a tank top thing) and points a finger gun at me. A bright stream of light launches from her fingertips and hits me directly in the chest, pushing me back a few steps. 

When I look up at Ebb I’m surprised to find a mirror in her place. Then I’m even more surprised to see my reflection in said mirror. The outfit looks just about like what I remember from the movie (which is, admittedly, not a lot). 

Ebb appears from behind me, leaning an elbow on my shoulder and grinning at my reflection in the mirror. “Whatcha think?” 

I consider the outfit some more. It’s definitely fancy enough to pass as royalty to Baz, I’m sure. 

“It’ll work wonderfully, thanks Ebb.” 

“No problem, Si. No problem at all.” Her smile drops for a second and she mutters under her breath, something that sounds suspiciously like “ maybe this time he’ll get his head out of his arse and be done with this.” 

“What was that?”

“Nothing!” 

I shake my head. Whatever. Ebb’s always been a bit odd. Anyways, I have other things to worry about. 

Hey, maybe this time Baz won't recognize me!

Baz

I’m in a large lounge area near the sultan reading a book I found on the desk in “my” room (coincidentally, it’s full of fairy tales) when we hear it. 

BAM BAM-BAM BAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA-

The older man and I make eye contact, one amused, one suspicious. (three guesses as to who’s who). The sultan taps his lip in thought from his seat across the room. 

“Were those—?“

“Trumpets.” I confirm, raising an eyebrow and staring in the direction of the front end of the palace, where the instruments sounded from. 

Just as I rise to my feet, I immediately pause again. I look at the sultan. 

“And those…”

“Drums.” He responds instantly, looking near giddy as he hops to the door leading towards the balcony overlooking the kingdom. 

Oh shit. 

The second I step out, I’m hit with a wave of loud music, blasting from the main road in the kingdom. At the very end of the street is none other than Simon fucking Snow, sitting on a bloody elephant and throwing coins at civilians at the side of the street watching the display. 

Because of fucking course he would be. 

He looks happy as a clam up there, watching the hundreds gathered cheer for him. It’s criminally endearing. It should be illegal. I could make it illegal, can’t I? Aren’t I royalty? 

Anyways. 

I know at this part I’m supposed to look unimpressed/bored/disgusted with the scene he’s making (and luckily for me, I’m pretty good at that) so I lean my elbow on the balcony rail and drop my chin into my hand, watching him with a cool expression. 

I see the moment he notices me, since I’m still staring at him. It’s almost comical, watching him do a double-take. 

It is not comical watching his face light up even more than it already was. (It’s nearly blinding, and my vision is exceptional). He beams at me and waves energetically, one hand still on the rope guiding the elephant. (Abu?)

I nearly raise my hand to wave back but instead have to force myself not to jump or startle when Bunce’s voice abruptly pops up in my ear. 

Stick to the story. Don’t change the plot. 

Right, I think, shaking my head. Absolutely ridiculous. He’s probably just excited to finish this story and hopefully get out of the spell. Yeah, that’s it. 

I roll my eyes and straighten (ha) up, turning to walk back inside without sparing him another glance, even despite the ache I feel with each step I take away from him. 

Get it together, Pitch. You’ve been able to keep everything under control for over two years now, don’t fuck it up now. 

Right. Yes. 

I don’t see the hurt flicker on his face when I shut the balcony door behind me with a small kick. 

I don’t see him slowly drop his hand back into his lap. 

I don’t see him angrily tug at his hair, only to flinch and pull his hand away quickly. 

I don’t see any of it. 

Chapter Text

“My son will be so glad you could make it, I’m sure!” 

The muffled voice filters through the wall clearly, allowing me to overhear their conversation for a bit without having to make my presence known.

“Your son?” asks Simon, because Simon Snow is dense as a brick. There is literally no one else he could be talking about you absolute idiot—

The sultan lets out an airy chuckle. “Yes, my son, Basilton. He’s the heir to my throne, and he’s, ah, he’s looking for a suitor to help him run the kingdom.” Simon quietly responds with an “ ahh okay” and I have to stop myself from rolling my eyes. He’s an awful actor. 

“Can I—uh— can I see him?” I stand up straight, turning to face the curtain blocking me from view. It’s about time to make Jasmine’s dramatic entrance and say her iconic line in the movie. 

“Oh, of course!” says the sultan. “I’m sure you’ll make an- an absolutely wonderful suitor for him, a-and—“

“How dare you!” I gasp, shoving the curtain aside dramatically. Nailed it. “All of you! Standing around deciding my future?” They all stare at me, seemingly in shock. I hold back a massive grin and instead scowl, glaring directly at Simon. He visibly gulps, backing up a few steps. “I am not a prize to be won.” (if this is ever brought up outside of this bloody spell I will deny it wholeheartedly, but I’ve always wanted to say that line.) 

I storm out, internally cackling at the slightly dazed, lost look on Simon’s face (and is that a blush I see?). The curtain whooshes shut behind me and I finally let myself grin wildly, heading towards my room. 

Maybe this won’t be so bad. 

Simon

Baz was… he was wearing. He was wearing a crop top. 

A bloody crop top!!

The second he made his (over the top and dramatic, as usual) entrance my entire body may as well have burst into flames, with how hot and tingly I felt. If I were capable of going off, this castle would have been nothing more than a pile of ashes. It hurt. For a second, I felt a strong flash of something and it burned. 

It’s not the first time this has happened since we’ve been trapped in the spell, but it’s never been this strong before. Is the spell losing control or somehow falling apart? Did we mess up already, and now the lethal part is slowly coming into play? 

Baz said something about not being a prize or whatever (I didn’t process much besides ‘ I can see his bare bloody waist, what kind of power move is this-‘) which in hindsight makes sense, considering how we’re talking about the rest of his life without… well… him… and storms away, making the curtain flutter behind him. 

I stare at the barely-moving cloth until it stills, then the sultan clears his throat. 

“Well. That could have gone better.” He waves his hands at me. “Oh, I’m sure it’ll be fine. Give him some time, he’ll come around.” I nod, staring at the ground in thought. What happens after this?

Ebb, posing as my royal advisor, gently nudges my side and gestures a small bow. I guess that comes next. I scramble to follow her lead and bow to the sultan, who watches with a lighthearted amusement in his eyes. 

“You may go, a servant will lead you to your sleeping quarters.” I bow again and leave without another word, too scared of somehow messing up the story further. 

As promised, a woman stood outside the ballroom doors with a blank face and her hands clasped in front of her. She holds her arm out to the side and waves for us to follow her, then leads us down numerous hallways that immediately leave my mind. 

“You’ll be staying here for your time in Agrabah. If you need anything at all, please inform myself or the other servants around the palace.” Without waiting for any response she backed out of the room and closed the door, her footsteps fading away quickly. 

Strange. 

Ebb pulls the cloth holding her hair back off of her head and sighs in over-dramatic relief. 

“Finally! I hate these clothes you guys have to wear. Too stuffy.” She drops a heavy cloak to the floor, back in her tank top attire from earlier. “Ah, much better.” I laugh, pulling the turban off of my head and setting it on a large cushion. 

“So…” Ebb draws out the word, lounging back in an imaginary seat floating in midair. I drop into the cushion. 

“Hm?”

“What’s next on the agenda?”

I link my fingers and loop them behind my head, staring up at the ceiling. “Well. I suppose I should try to talk to him, right?” Ebb grins at me from her nonexistent chair. 

“Sounds wonderful. When are you gonna do that?” 

I shrug. “Tonight? I could ride the carpet up to his room or something?” 

“Great idea, Si. And if he says no?”

I frown up at the ceiling. “Well, I’ve never been prone to giving up on him, have I? I’ll just keep bugging him until he has to listen.” 

Ebb makes a short, quiet sound, like she’s trying to suppress either a laugh or groan. “No, no you haven’t, have you?” Her voice sounds slightly sad and distant, like she’s mentally somewhere else entirely, and I peek over at her. 

She sniffs, wiping a hand under her nose, and I internally hum in understanding. She must be in one of her nostalgic moods. Maybe she’s thinking about her brother again? I don’t know much about him, but Ebb seemed to love the guy. 

I wish it didn’t weigh down on her so much. 

We sit in relative silence, the only sounds being her muffled sniffles and my awkward shuffling. I’m terrible at comforting people (as we established earlier) so I usually think it’s best to sit back and wait it out until there’s less tears involved. 

After what feels like a few minutes but is probably hours in regular time, the carpet flies over and nudges me up into a seated position. I smile at  it. 

“Time to go?” I get a ‘nod’ and stand, stretching slowly and wincing when I hear my spine pop. Wait, how long was I sitting there? 

I look over at Ebb, who’s still lying on her air-bed with an arm draped over her face, and grab the turban. “Are you going to be alright alone?” She waves her hand dismissively at me. 

“Ack, don’t worry about me. I’m fine. Go win over your boy.” I startle, nearly dropping my turban, and carefully put it on my head with a small nod. I mean, the Mage did say to ‘woo’ Baz, right? Right. That’s all she meant by that. What else could she be implying, anyways? 

“Bye Ebb.” I get another half-hearted wave and chuckle, stepping onto the carpet. It rises into the air and I wobble, trying to keep my balance. 

“Don’t fall,” Ebb warns tiredly, as if she saw my little stumble through her arm, and I let out a small, embarrassed laugh. 

“Right. Thanks.”

The carpet takes off again, slower this time, and it’s much easier to keep my balance. Somehow, probably by movie magic again, it knows exactly where to go. We pull to a stop right below a balcony that definitely looks fancy enough to belong to royalty and I squint up into the darkening sky, straining my ears for any sign of life above. 

“Are you just going to sit here all night?” Ebb whispers in my ear, and I shriek quietly (as quietly as one can shriek). I turn to face a smiling… bee? and scowl. 

“What are you doing here?” I hiss, carefully pushing her away. She just flies right back over, her wings buzzing directly next to my ear. 

“I was bored.”

“I haven’t even been gone for five minutes.”

“Yeah, yeah. Also I thought you might need some help. And clearly, you do.” I scoff, crossing my arms, and turn away. 

“I have everything under control.” The bee nods slowly (what a weird sentence) and gives me a very unamused look. (again. weird.) 

And yet… 

“But…” I start, avoiding eye context. “If you have any advice, I’d be open… to hear it.” She laughs, directly in my ear, and I push her away again, this time less gently. She doesn’t stop laughing. 

“Hoooo okay Simon. You win this time. I’ll give you some advice.” I lean closer eagerly, only to slump in disappointment a second later at the three word response. “Just be yourself.”

“…That’s it? That’s your great advice?” She smacks my cheek with her wing, an action that stings much more than it probably should. 

“Yes, as a matter of fact, it is.” She pauses, then pops back into her usual human-like state and lands clumsily on the carpet in front of me, grinning crookedly up at me. “I know about your and Davy’s little plan to get out of here. And while I think it’s absolutely stupid and going to backfire in some way, I’m supposed to be backing you up along the way so… Here's my advice.” She takes a small breath. “You want Baz to like you.” 

I inhale sharply, feeling my face heat up involuntarily for no fucking reason what the hell— “Only for the spell,” I’m quick to assure her, though I’m not sure why I felt the need to make that clarification. 

She’s not either, judging by the odd look she’s giving me at the moment. 

“…yes. For the spell.” My face warms up a little more and I squirm as she stares at me with that same odd look before she completely shakes it off and seems like her normal bubbly self. “Well, anyways! I think the best plan is just being you, if you want to win over Baz.” 

I tilt my head to the side, staring blankly at her. 

“What’s that look for?”

“…nothing. Wait—no. No, it’s not nothing. I just…” I tug at my hair sharply (‘Stop, you’re hurting yourself.’) and hold back a frustrated scream. “He hates me. He hates me so much.  How am I supposed to ‘win him over’ if I’m acting like myself?” Ebb gives me an incredulous look. 

“Are you—are you serious?” I shrug helplessly. 

“I mean, yeah. Yeah . Of course I think it’s my personality— like, I don’t know what else it is. Maybe how I look..?” Ebb gives me the same incredulous look before miserably dropping her face into her hands and groaning loudly. 

“ Simon .”

“ Ebb .”

“You sweet, sweet summer child.” 

“— what?”

“You absolute idiot. I love you so much.” 

I squint at her. “Uh. I love you too? But, uh. Those two sentences kinda contrast. Like, a lot . And it’s— it’s confusing me. I- um.” I sit cross-legged on the carpet in front of her and tangle my fingers into my curls. “If it’s not my personality, what is it? Why does he hate me?” 

I find myself shocked at how upset I sound, how upset I feel, at the revelation that I genuinely don’t know why he’s antagonised me specifically all of these years. Ebb smiles sadly. 

“Oh, Simon. He doesn’t hate you. He never did. Not really, anyways.” I stare at her in silence, my brain working in overdrive to process that bit of information. There’s no way— 

“You’re lying,” I say, my voice sounding distant. Ebb pats my arm lightly, still smiling softly. 

“Why don’t you find out for yourself, tonight?” Her lip curls very subtly in disgust. “It won’t even mess up the plan with your Mage.” I raise my eyebrows at her barely-hidden aggression towards the Mage. I suppose it’d make sense for her to hold some sort of grudge over the man who took over for the woman who gave Ebb her dream job and fucked up the magickal society as it stands. 

Hm. Yeah, I’m surprised it hasn’t been more obvious before. 

I nod to Ebb hesitantly and she poofs away, leaving me and my very conflicted thoughts alone under the balcony. 

The carpet starts rising and I hop to my feet. Now or never, I suppose. 

We float above the railing and I step down, landing lightly on my feet on the balcony. 

First step down, fuck knows how many more to go. 

I barely get a few seconds to decide how I’m going to get Baz’s attention when I see the curtain flutter from movement inside. My heart rate picks up a bit for some reason, probably nerves, as the curtain splits open, showing a figure pushing past the cloth. 

“Baz,” I breathe, stepping forward, only to screech and jump back when a massive tiger meanders through the curtains. “Or,” my voice cracks, going high pitched and squeaky, “not. Definitely not Baz. Uh, hi . Please don’t— please don’t eat me. Heh…” 

During my rambling the tiger moves closer, backing me against the balcony railing. I press myself as far back as I can go without tipping off of the edge and squeeze my eyes shut, blocking my face with my arms. 

I hear a light, airy laugh from behind the tiger and peek through the gap between my arms, sagging with relief when I see Baz leaning against the doorframe leading into the (his?) room, eyes twinkling in the setting sunlight. I almost smile back at him but the tiger nudges its nose into my leg and okay wow when did it get that close— 

I shriek again and hop onto the railing, glancing up when I hear another laugh. Baz covers his mouth with one hand and wraps the other around his stomach (goddamn fucking crop top, the fit prat is just bragging at this point). 

“Rajah, that’s enough. Snow isn’t a threat.” I genuinely can’t tell if that was an insult or not. I slowly sink back onto the balcony floor when Baz calls off the tiger, who backs away while eyeing me wearily. Then Baz addresses me. “Snow,” he starts, clearly holding back laughter. “I didn’t know you were afraid of cats.” I scoff, turning my head to hide my blush. 

“M’not. But calling that— that beast a cat is the grossest understatement I’ve ever heard.” Baz smiles softly, crouching down to pet under the thing’s giant head. I stare in awe as it melts into his hand.

“Hmm. I don’t think so. Last I checked, tigers are definitely a part of the feline family, no?” I sputter, at a complete loss for words. Literally just earlier that day he looked like he couldn’t care less about my existence, even disgusted by it, and now he’s willingly teasing me? And talking about cats? 

It’s confusing. He’s confusing. 

He rises to his feet and walks over to me slowly, his smile turning coy. 

“So, Snow. Why are you here?” I ignore the blood rushing to my face and clear my throat. 

“I- uh.” 

Baz raises an eyebrow, still smiling. “Don’t you know? Or were you just in the mood to pay me a balcony visit tonight for no particular reason?” I open and close my mouth a few times but no words form.

“Um…” I can almost hear the Mage lecturing me on how this could be my chance , this is my in , the way I’ll become sultan and get out of the spell. 

Better make the most of this opportunity, right?

“I— yeah. I suppose I didn’t have much of a plan? But I’m here, as long as you’ll have me.” Nice , Simon. Perfect. Very smooth. Baz grins and lightly sets both of his hands on the railing beside me, caging me in, and looks up at me from under his eyelashes. He’s still shorter than me. 

“That’s very kind of you, Snow.” I swallow thickly, trying to focus on redirecting the conversation. 

“You look… um. You look really nice.” Baz blinks, seemingly surprised by either the turn in the conversation or the compliment, but quickly recovers. Interesting. 

“Hmm. I’m rich too, you know.” 

“Yeah,” I breathe, struggling to keep my composure while my mind hyper-focuses on the very little space between us. 

“The son of the sultan.” He leans closer. I blink a couple of times and try to get my brain to reboot. The only thing it’s capable of thinking right now is ‘ when did he get so close?’ and ‘ why don’t I hate it?’

“I-I know.” 

“A fine prize for any prince to marry.” I nod. Okay. Okay. I can work with that. 

“Yeah- right. Right. A prince, like. Uh. Like me.” This also seems to startle (fluster? even? maybe?) Baz, and I watch in awe as his cheeks flush lightly. He ducks his head to hide it for a second before looking up at me, a small but wicked smile, eyes cold. Oh shit—

“Right. A prince like you. You, and every other stuffed shirt, swaggering peacock I’ve met!” He pulls the feather on my turban down over my eyes and I cry out, pulling it back up and staring at him in shock. He glares at me, a few steps away, with his arms crossed tightly over his chest. 

“Baz, I-“

“Just—“ he cuts himself off and takes a deep breath. “Just. Go, Snow. I don’t— Ugh!” He tangles his fingers in his hair and pulls, snarling at me. “Take a hint, Snow. Just go jump off a balcony!” 

I stare at him in shock and he turns his head away. He hugs himself tighter, his entire body tense, and I’m hit with the horrifying realization: I hate seeing him this upset. I hate making him this upset. 

Throughout my entire time at Watford, all I’ve ever wanted was to make him feel just as terrible as he’s done to me. But I could never actually get a reaction out of him. And now that I’m getting it… 

It feels really fucking bad. And that’s terrifying. 

I clear my throat, trying to push those thoughts aside. Pay attention, give him what he wants, follow through with the plan and get out of the spell. He’s your enemy, who cares if he’s a little emotional. It’s what you’ve always wanted, right?

“Right.” I say, and Baz gives me a questioning look. I scramble to respond. “Um. You’re right. I should just…” I point behind me, to the balcony ledge, and hop over the railing, dropping down a few feet before hitting the carpet. 

I hear a small scream and harried footsteps, then see Baz’s head peer over the railing, searching the ground far below. I watch for a few seconds, hidden in the shadows, as his chest starts to heave the longer he goes without finding me. The burning feeling from earlier comes back, much more manageable than before, but this time with a flash of guilt that makes it arguably worse. 

“No, no no no. What did I do? What did I- SIMON!” He calls my name out, leaning way too far over the railing as he grows more frantic. “Shit . Shit. What have I done? SIMON??” I nudge the carpet, and it doesn’t take any more convincing to have it sneak up over the side of the balcony, dropping on the ground directly behind Baz, who looks like he’s about to start hyperventilating. 

“ Baz.” He straightens up and whirls around to face me, openly crying out in relief. He rushes towards me and I brace myself for a slap or something but instead I get a face full of dark hair. 

His arms wrap around my waist and I immediately place mine around his shoulders, tangling one in his hair. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to scare you, please don’t cry.” I ramble, not even fully aware of what I’m saying at this point, and all I can think about is comforting him until he stops shaking. 

Which. 

As we established, is not something I’m used to. He squeezes me once before pulling away, and the warmth that had been spreading throughout my chest while he was so close slowly fades away, leaving me feeling cold and empty. 

Baz glares up at me with shining eyes and takes my collar in his hands, shaking me hard enough that my neck starts to hurt. 

“You idiot. You scared the shit out of me, Simon! I thought you had died , and it would have— it would have been all my fault, and—“ His hands slowly uncurl and he draws back into himself, clearly trying not to cry. I reach out without thinking and cup his face in my hands. 

“Baz, I’m so sorry, okay? I forgot you didn’t know about the carpet, and you seemed mad, so I thought I’d give you some space, and well…” 

I shrug, looking down at the ground, and don’t see him flinch when I pull my hands away. One of his own slowly reaches over into my field of vision and takes my wrist, guiding my hand away from my hair, where it was pulling harshly at the curls. I sigh shakily, unclenching my other hand by my side. I hadn’t even noticed—

“Please stop doing that.” I risk a glance up at him and I’m shocked to find a pained expression instead of disgusted or pissed. 

“What?” 

“Pulling. You’re hurting yourself. I can see it, in your face.” I huff out a sad laugh. Penny had told me it was a terrible habit years ago, but had since dropped it after her efforts to stop me were useless. 

But with Baz, I don’t know why, but at this moment I honestly would do damn near anything to get rid of that pained look. And isn’t that terrifying?  

I nod, staring into his eyes so he hopefully knows I’m serious. “Okay.”

“Okay?” 

I nod again. “Yeah. I’ll stop. Or try to. Nasty habit anyways.” I shrug, smiling softly when his face scrunches in annoyance. 

“Is there any way I can stop you from shrugging excessively?” My brain immediately supplies me with an emphatic ‘literally just ask and I’ll do anything for you’ so I kindly tell it to fuck off before it gets any ideas, like making me say that (really concerning??) thought out loud to Baz. I’m not even sure where it came from, and I’m not entirely sure I want to find out. 

Best to just not think about it. 

Instead, in what I think is a very cheeky response, I just grin and shrug, snorting at the glare he gives me. Not long after that, though, his expression shifts to confusion. 

“Wait, how did you get back up here? I could have sworn I saw you…” I smile guiltily at the immediate drop of his mood and tap my foot against the ground a couple of times, a cue for the carpet to rise from underneath me. It shudders a bit, almost as if excited, and jerks into the air fast enough to nearly make me lose my balance.

It swerves around Baz and stops at the top of the balcony railing, leaving me struggling to stay on my feet. Thankfully, Baz is too busy staring at the carpet with a mix of curiosity and… dread? Huh. Weird. 

Out of nowhere, I get a fantastic idea, a grin lifting up my face. 

“Hey, would you wanna go for a ride?” The dread grows more obvious, especially when he makes eye contact with me.  

“Is this thing even safe?” I go to reassure him but the carpet twitches in what I can assume is offense, causing me to tip to the side a bit and cut off my “sure it is” with a small yelp. 

“It’s fine!!” I say, my voice pitched high and slightly unhinged. 

Baz looks incredibly hesitant—which, understandable— so I hold a hand out, smiling gently in a hopefully comforting way. 

“Do you trust me?” He startles, then looks directly into my eyes, taking my hand in his. 

“Yes.” 

Chapter Text

Baz

His hand is warm. 

I’m not sure why I’m surprised. I mean, he’s always burning. (it’s probably a ‘living’ thing) (or a Simon thing). 

It feels… nice .

I’m always freezing, so it’s a pleasant contrast. For multiple years, I’ve tried to convince myself everything was a ruse, that my feelings weren’t nearly as serious as I had imagined them to be. I kept thinking up ridiculous things that would somehow “prove” how horrible it would be to love Simon, to have him love me in return. 

Things like, “ we wouldn’t even look like a proper couple standing next to each other, with how much we contrast physically.” (we literally fit the ‘sun and moon’ stereotype to the mark, so no.) and “ he would be an absolute mess around children, I’d bet”  which only lead to me imagining Simon caring for a child and that was just a terrible little torture on my mind for a good while. 

Or even “ his zodiac sign probably isn’t compatible with mine” which I thought was a very valid argument until I learned when his birthday was, and that it meant our signs were about as compatible as they can be. So, also no. 

At least I was able to convince Fiona that I was sneaking into my mother’s old office to gather information against the Mage (not to take a peek at my crush’s records to check our bloody zodiac signs, fuck’s sake, Basilton).

Anywho. 

I’m much more graceful when mounting the carpet (I’d like to think that was because of my sense of balance, not Simon’s help) and I have about 0.1 seconds to feel smug about it before the carpet takes off, knocking us both flat on our asses. 

The carpet flies over the castle walls and I gasp, glancing over my shoulder at Rajah. He tilts his head to the side from the balcony and blinks slowly at me, nodding his head once. Right. Animals are self-aware and conscious here. 

I feel Simon’s hand squeeze mine, which prompts me to look down and see that yes, our fingers are still intertwined between us. Oh. Be cool, Baz. This is fine. Just enemies being enemies. 

He doesn’t seem to notice, which, fuck my life, and the carpet reaches a speed that hopefully means we’re about to hit terminal velocity and launch ourselves directly into the rapidly setting sun. (of course the sunset creates a lovely mood lighting that gives Simon an angelic, ethereal glow. of course it does.) 

We swoop over the city, somehow going completely unnoticed by the late-night street-goers buying and selling on the main road. A tassel plucks a flower from a nearby cart, “handing” it to Simon as we leave the kingdom entirely. Sometime around there he lets go of my hand, and I pretend I'm not disappointed. 

Simon, fuck his chivalrous heart, turns to me with a small little smile on his face and hands me the flower seemingly without a thought of how romantic that gesture was, nor how much it would fuck up my undead heart. Rude. 

I take it, because I’m weak, and carefully stroke the soft petals, looking down to hide my surely pink face. Oh, how I wish I was still incapable of blushing. If there’s one thing I don’t miss about my pre-vampire days, it’s being able to blush. (I am well aware that that is a very stupid thing to not miss, you know, when I literally have to drain animals to survive.) 

“You’re doing it again.” I frown, turning to look at Simon. He’s watching me with an unreadable expression. Which is weird, because usually I’d have more trouble reading a children’s book than his face. 

“Doing what?” He sighs, pulling at his hair. I give him a look when he winces and he drops his hand, smiling sheepishly. 

“The, you know,” He waves his hand over his face and puts on a weird, slightly constipated look. I raise an eyebrow. 

“Excuse me?” He frowns in frustration.

“The whole— blank!! That’s the word! The blank face thing. Yeah.” I feel my lips twitch into a small smile (despite my best efforts) and raise my eyebrow higher. 

“Oh?” He nods, either not hearing or not acknowledging my clear sarcasm. Idiot . 

“Yeah. I thought you were gonna stop that. Like me with the pulling thing.” I laugh quietly and tip my head forward, looking up at him from behind a curtain of hair.

“And… how’s that going for you?” He pauses, then curses and pulls his hand away from his wild curls again. 

“I didn’t even notice that time!” I snort, leaning back on my hands, and turn away, staring at the lovely scene around us. 

“I know, Snow.” He pouts at me. 

“You’ve called me Simon before.” 

I exhale another laugh, glancing at him out of the corner of my eye. “Have I?” I hum. “I don’t seem to remember.” He groans, falling back to lie on the carpet. I smirk down at him, then gasp when he grabs one of my hands and yanks it towards him, knocking me down to one elbow. 

“Simon!” I screech, my voice strangled. Is he out of his fucking mind— He turns to face me immediately, grinning wildly. 

“You said it! You said my name!” I scoff, turning away and shoving him back a bit. He lies back down and I slowly do the same, staring resolutely up at the stars. 

“Ooh!” He says, pointing up at a cluster of stars. “I found the Big Dipper!” I squint at the sky. 

“Where?” He shakes his pointed finger a bit and outlines… something. If we were in our world I’d probably be able to see Ursa Major and way beyond, but here my sight is almost dulled with the thin layer of clouds above us.

“See it?”

I shake my head and he drops his hand. “No, I don’t see anything.” He’s quiet and for a second I think he’s just lost in thought or something, but then his warm hand carefully grabs mine, lifting it above us. My breath catches in my throat and I tense when I feel his curls brush against my forehead. When did he get so close?

“Make a pointer, yeah?” I do, and he slowly moves it across the sky, tracing the constellation. “See it now?” I swallow, then nod. You could ask if I saw the bloody queen dancing with fucking Big Bird up there and I’d still say yes. 

“Mhm.” He drops our hands, but doesn’t let go. Why isn’t he letting go?

“Good.” He’s quiet for a bit, then, “Baz?” I hum, tilting my head to look at him, then suck in a breath quietly. He’s already facing me, and when I turn my nose lightly bumps his. He squeezes my hand. “Um. Thank you.” I furrow my eyebrows. 

“For what?"

He shrugs, then smiles crookedly when I glare at him. 

“I dunno. Just. Being here? I guess?” It takes a lot of self control to not let that seem like those few words affected me as much as they did.

“I didn’t have much of a choice, did I? What with the whole ‘lethal’ part, right?” Simon laughs quietly, bumping our noses again. Don’t panic don’t panic don’t panic don’t pa—

“I guess. But still. Means a lot, you know?” No. I don’t know. What do you mean? What’s bringing this on? Does this mean as much to you as it does to me? 

He stares deep into my eyes and I feel myself going cross-eyed trying to focus on his own in the dark. I squeeze his hand instead of responding and he squeezes back, bumping our noses again. 

“ Baz , I—” his breath brushes against my face and I find myself leaning closer to him. 

“ Simon...” his lips curl into a small smile and I swear I see his eyes flicker down to my lips before meeting my gaze again. 

He drops my hand and his fingers lightly push my chin up, angling my face closer to his. This can’t be happening. This can’t actually be happening right now. 

His eyes slide shut and mine follow when he starts leaning down to close the little distance between us, a soft smile still on his face. I feel a feather-light touch on my lips, soft enough for me to think I’ve imagined it, when a massive boom sounds from above us, making me flinch back. 

What the fuck what the fuck what the fuck what the fu—

Half of my back feels open air instead of the carpet and I let out a strangled scream, thinking I’m about to fall off of the side of the damned thing, when an arm wraps around my waist and pulls me forward until I’m tucked into Simon’s chest, trembling. 

Because of course I can’t catch a fucking break. What kind of sick game is this? Fall to your death or have your mortal enemy turned hopeless crush (who just tried to fucking KISS YOU????) catch you and hold you in his arms? 

Did I NOT make myself clear with the whole “might actually die if I end up in his arms one more time” thing? Because I thought I was being PERFECTLY clear!

I feel his chest (fucking chest—) start shaking with laughter and I glance up at him. He senses the movement and looks down, grinning widely. He tightens his arms around me and giggles like the twins at Christmas. That is—annoyingly endearing and adorable. 

“Fireworks,” he says through laughter, and I’m confused until I remember the loud bang. Oh. It was just a firework. 

I laugh a little myself, dropping my head forward onto his chest. “Just fireworks.” He laughs harder, making me snort, then giggle. 

“Just- just fireworks.” We both crack up, holding each other and laughing while more are fired off around us. It feels surreal. 

I sit up, leaning back on one hand, and sigh, letting out a few more giggles. I was planning on giving him the cold shoulder after his balcony stunt (seriously, what the fuck. I didn’t think he’d actually do it. And he’s dumb enough to either miss the bloody carpet or even just rely on his magic—magic he doesn’t have here —to catch him) but of course he’d make sure I tossed that thought out minutes after the fact. 

I risk a glance at Simon, who’s watching me with a giddy smile. 

“What?” He wrinkles his nose, confused. 

“What ‘what?’” 

I shake my head. “You’re an idiot. What’s the look for?” 

He shrugs, ignoring my warning glare. “M’happy, I guess. I dunno.” I smile softly, looking down at him. 

“I guess I’m happy too, Snow.” He grins wider. 

“You’ve called me Simon before.”

“I haven’t a clue what you’re talking about, Snow.”

Simon

This is good. This is really good. 

Which is weird, because it’s Baz, and… and he’s not usually good. I don’t know. Everything in this spell is weird. And confusing. But still… Still good. Really good.

And he called me Simon! It… it makes me really happy, for some reason. 

“Oh,” Baz gasps, looking off in the distance.  I follow his gaze and my jaw drops. The carpet must have risen above the clouds when I was distracted, and now we’re flying over a sea of them, the starry night sky completely visible. It looks like something out of one of those astronomy documentaries, or those weird time-lapse scenes they put in home improvement shows for no reason. Very picturesque. 

“Okay,” I start, still dazedly staring at the sky. “Now there’s no chance you can’t see the big dipper now.” Baz snorts beside me and I bite my lip to hide a smile. I feel like I’ve been doing that a lot recently. It’s weird. It’s good. 

Baz slowly lowers onto his back next to me and I sigh contentedly. 

“Snow…” 

I turn my head to the side, smiling at Baz. 

“Yeah?” 

He frowns up at the stars, seemingly thinking hard over something.  I rise up onto my elbow and look down at him. After a couple of silent seconds I lightly flick his nose, smiling when he scrunches up his face and redirects the frown to me.

“What is it?” He stares deep into my eyes for a second, clearly looking for something. I’m not sure if he finds it—whatever it is—but either way I’m slightly intimidated. 

“What-What is this?” I scrunch my nose up. What is what? 

“What is what?” He rolls his eyes and blows some hair out of his face. It immediately falls back and I absently reach over, moving it away gently without thinking too hard about it. He blushes (yes!) again, looking uncharacteristically flustered. 

He regains his composure (no!) and waves a hand around, obviously frustrated. “This. This whole thing. You’re being nice to me, and you’re close, and it’s confusing.” I back away a bit in shock then shrug, falling back onto the carpet with a sigh.

“I dunno. I haven’t really been thinking about it.” Baz scoffs, turning on his side to look at me. 

“You just haven’t thought about it? What does that even mean?” He looks genuinely upset for a second and I’m shocked at how much I want to make him smile, make him laugh again. Think about it later. Think about it later. Think about it later. 

“I just-” My hand twitches at my side, itching to pull at my hair, but cold, slender fingers take mine and squeeze gently. The urge slowly fades away and I squeeze back in thanks. “It’s always been you against me. We’ve never really worked together before, let alone got along, and I don’t really want to ruin that. I- I guess… It’s nice, yeah?” 

Baz does the creepy staring-into-my-eyes thing again and I try not to squirm, determined to show him that I’m serious. He presses his lips together tightly, looking back up towards the sky. 

“It’s… certainly a change of pace.” I roll my eyes, groaning. 

“Don’t give me that.” He turns to me again, frowning. 

“Give you what, Snow?” I furrow my eyebrows, trying to stay calm despite how quick he was to snap at me. (As if nothing had changed.)

(Because something definitely has changed, right?)

“Your whole… ‘I’m incapable of feeling any form of positive emotions because I’m a broody vampire with a reputation’ thing!” Baz chokes on air, staring at me incredulously. The annoyance at his attitude fades into amusement. 

“My—My what—” I grin, poking his chest lightly. 

“Baz, you’re the most emotionally constipated person I’ve ever met.” He lets out a stunned laugh, staring at me with his mouth hanging open. 

“I am not—” 

“Bullshit! You totally are!” I can tell he’s trying to hide a smile, and when he speaks again his voice is filled with hidden laughter. 

“You have no idea what you’re talking about, Snow.” I snicker and shake my head, flicking his nose again, then laugh outright when he sneezes. Oh my fucking god Baz has a kitten sneeze. Why didn’t I know this? 

He glares at me, though it’s weak and his eyes are glittering. 

“Get away from me.” I just laugh louder and wrap my arms around him, pulling him into my chest again. He squeaks, slapping my arm, but doesn’t pull away. 

“Not until you admit it.” 

“Admit what?” 

“That you—” I start giggling but quickly compose myself. “That you’re emotionally constipated.” My voice cracks on the last word as I break out into loud laughter, ignoring his indignant scoff. 

“I will be doing no such thing. Now let me go, you absolute moron!” I grin down at his pouty expression. 

“Make me.” His face flushes bright red, and I don’t have time to let myself think about what caused such a reaction before his hand creeps up and tugs the feather on my turban down, just like when we were on the balcony. That seems like ages ago. 

I sputter, releasing him to take it off and lay it beside me. He smirks and sits up, leaning back on his hands. 

“Gotcha.” I stick my tongue out at him and he does it back. 

“Oh, really mature.” 

He crosses his arms, turning away. “You started it.” 

“...Again. Really mature.” We make eye contact for a few seconds before we both break, laughing quietly as the carpet makes its way around a massive river, much closer to the ground. We speed up, flying past a few startled birds, and Baz tucks himself into my side, lightly curling his fingers in my vest. I wrap my arms around him comfortably, pulling him closer, and he sighs, watching the world rush past with a content smile. 

We’re quiet for a while before Baz starts humming something under his breath, seemingly without even noticing. It sounds vaguely familiar, but I can’t place it. Maybe one of those depressing songs he’s always playing on his violin in our room?

I consider asking him, but eventually decide against it because I’m sure asking would just make him stop. It’s nice. 

After a minute we both fall silent again, but it’s not uncomfortable like usual. I can’t remember a single time outside of this spell where a silence between us didn’t mean one was about to attack the other. Even in our own room, we avoided each other like the plague, and when we had to be in the same room it was stifling and tense. 

Why? I ask myself. Why couldn’t it have always been like this? Happy, quiet moments instead of uncomfortable, suffocating silences. 

I close my eyes, trying to engrave this moment in my memory. As if I could forget this.

After a few seconds I open them again, then blink in shock. In the not-so-far distance is the castle, lit up by the bright moonlight and lights scattered across the palace and kingdom. 

“Woah.” Baz lifts his head from my shoulder (when did it get there?) and stares wide-eyed in front of us.

“Movie magic,” I mumble, glancing down at the carpet in wonder. It flicks a tassel in my direction and I bite my cheek to hide a bright smile. 

We land on the balcony to his bedroom and stand unsteadily. The second Baz steps away the carpet rises, flying over the edge and descending just below the railing. He leans over the railing ledge on his arms, looking down at me with a soft expression. 

“Well, I suppose this is where we say goodnight, Snow.” I ignore the unpleasant twinge in my chest when he says that, glancing down towards the carpet for a second before tilting my head to look at Baz. 

“Yeah, I guess so.” We watch each other for a minute, neither actually saying anything to put an end to the night. Unconsciously, we start to gravitate towards each other, our faces creeping closer. I choose to ignore the voice in the back of my head screaming about Agatha (we’re having troubles anyways) (that really doesn’t make it better, though) and instead focus on my deal with the Mage as a way of justifying what I’m pretty sure is about to happen. 

You won’t have to worry about cheating if you die in this spell and he’s your way out. This is your chance! The only person who would know is Baz, and he… he’ll be in the spell… And that’s what you want. Yes. You want this. Just stop fucking thinking—

My mind goes completely blank almost on command and I let my eyes slide closed. Finally. 

Anticipation slowly starts fizzing inside of me, rising until I can practically feel it resting on my tongue, shaking me to my core. This has never happened with Agatha. Is it a Baz thing? A spell thing? Is it me? 

Something under me— the carpet, right —jerks upwards, pushing me forward the last few millimeters. Our lips connect roughly and the static spreads to the tips of my fingers, filling every vein, every cell in my body. 

He gasps and I lean into him, chasing the electric feeling humming through me, through us , reaching up with both of my hands to hold his face. It feels like magic. It feels exactly how I imagine being in full control of my batshit powers would be. 

Baz feels like magic. 

I tilt my head to the side and tangle my fingers in his hair, sighing shakily. This is so much better than magic. 

We pull away at the same time, breathless. I blink and look up at Baz, who’s watching me with dazed, shining eyes.

“Simon.” The use of my given name makes me smile brightly. A tassel smacks my ankle, the carpet surely telling me to wrap it up. I take Baz’s hand and kiss his knuckles softly. It’s just to get out of the spell. It’s not like I want to kiss him, right? That’s… That’s ridiculous. It’s all just to escape the spell. Nothing more. 

“Goodnight, princess.” I wink, biting my cheek to hold back a laugh at Baz’s astonished expression. His face goes bright red, flushed enough that I can see it clearly in the moonlight even as I start to fly away. The carpet drops me into the shadows, then back, behind a tree under the balcony. From this angle, I can see Baz clearly, but to him I’m practically invisible. 

Which means I have a perfect view of his stunned smile. He mouths (or maybe says? I’m too far away to hear anything) something, touching his lips gently, then stares up at the stars with a wide, bright smile. It takes my breath away, just like on the steps in Cinderella. For once, I see Baz. Not just the image he pretends is the real him. 

I see the version of him that stops me from hurting myself, then haunts my thoughts for days afterwards. The version that says my name like it’s something special, like it’s important to him, not the World of Mages or a prophecy. 

I see the version I’m growing to lo—

Like. The version I’m growing to like. Tolerate. Vaguely appreciate. Yes.

With one last glance out over the balcony, Baz turns around and walks past the curtain into his room, out of sight, the beaming smile still in place.

I feel my own lips turn upwards at the sight as I sigh, staring off in the direction he disappeared to. I wonder what it’d feel like to kiss him again. 

Wait. What?

My thoughts come to a screeching halt when two pairs of hands grab me, pulling me away from the tree, and another appears in front of me, throwing a sack over my head. I kick at the captures and hear one grunt in pain before something hits me hard in the back of my head, making me dizzy. 

I’m so distracted trying to fight the three people off while insanely disoriented that I don’t feel unconsciousness creeping up on me until all of my senses fade away.

Fuck, not again.

Chapter Text

Baz

Oh. 

Okay. 

So that just happened. 

Penny

Oh.

Okay. 

So that just happened.

Baz

WAIT WHAT THE FUCK—

I snap out of my shock—but not really though because what the fuck— just in time to see Simon, still grinning his stupid bright grin, disappear under the balcony, presumably back to his room. 

That-There’s no way that actually just happened. There’s no way. 

But then again…

“Goodnight, Princess.” 

Yeah, that asshole knew exactly what he was doing. 

I shake my thoughts away, then blink when the flower he gave me floats down from… somewhere… and I barely manage to catch it. 

How..?

The petals look like they’re almost glowing a soft white in the moonlight. I stroke one gently, feeling like I’m physically incapable of not smiling. It’s weird. It’s good. 

“It had to be you, Simon Snow, didn’t it?” I ask, grinning uncontrollably down at the small, stupid flower.

My voice lowers to a whisper and I twirl the stem between my fingers, watching the petals blend together for a moment before splitting again. “It always had to be you.”

I carefully reach a shaking hand up to my lips, tipping my head to look up at the stars. If I focus, I can feel the buzz of electricity still humming under my skin. This was real. This actually happened. He actually kissed you. 

He kissed you. 

Simon Snow, my archenemy since we were eleven, the prophesied Mage who has supposedly come to save us all from mortal peril, kissed me. Me , his evil, bloodthirsty roommate who’s been nothing but cruel towards him since the moment we met for no reason other than the fact that my father didn’t like his mentor. 

He kissed me.

Perhaps I should send Bunce a gift basket or something when we get out of here. Even if this mess doesn’t end up going anywhere—of course it won’t, he has a bloody perfect girlfriend waiting for him—I at least had this. One moment, one second, where I could pretend he was mine. And even if that’s the most of him I’ll ever get, it was more than I’d ever imagined. More than I deserved. 

A cold breeze brushes past me, blowing a few strands of hair in my face. I huff out a quiet laugh as I shiver. The flower petals flutter in the wind and exhaustion hits me in a rush. I blink heavily in the direction of my room and send one last smile up into the sky before making my way past the curtain, collapsing onto the bed and passing out immediately.

Simon

“I honestly expected more from you, Simon.”

The Mage’s disappointed voice is the first thing I hear as I slowly fade back into consciousness, head pounding. How long has this asshole been monologuing? Was he just practicing while I was unconscious, or did he think I was awake?

Either way, he looks stupid. 

“Huh?” My voice is scratchy and I hiss when I crack open an eye only to be met with blinding sunlight. I reach up to rub at them, then jolt when I find my hands tied to the arms of the wooden chair I’m seated in. “Wh-Wha’s goin’ on?” The Mage takes a step closer and glares down at me. I swallow, leaning back a bit to put some distance between us. 

“I wouldn’t do that, if I were you.” I freeze, then peer behind me when he gestures to something over my shoulder. Or, as I immediately found out, the lack of something over my shoulder.

The chair is alarmingly close to the ledge of the tall tower we’re in, and one poorly-timed sneeze could send me to my watery grave. Oooookay. Tread lightly, Simon. Ha, tread. 

“I’d suggest listening very carefully, Simon. Although, you don’t have much of a choice though, do you?” He and a few of his Men laugh like the friendly bunch of psychopaths they are before the Mage sobers, staring right at me. I squint, trying to focus on him through my hazy mind. Which is difficult, when there's four of him blending together every few seconds before separating. It's sort of making me sick.

I know for a fact I’d be panicking more about the ledge thing if I was even slightly more lucid right now. But half-awake Simon has other priorities. 

“Hey! You-You push’d me int’ the lava cave,” I slur, blinking away the spots in my vision. He puts his fists under his chin in a mock pout. 

“Aw, did I huwt your feewings?” He drops his hands, putting on a serious expression. “Well, the world isn’t fair, Simon. One day you’ll understand that. Consider this me giving you a little… nudge in the right direction. Or, stomp, I guess I should say.” He laughs again with his Men and I scowl. 

“Lis’n ‘ere, ya spooky psycho. I thought we had some sort of pact thing goin’ on before you tried to fuckin’ kill me. Wha’ was up with that, by the way?” He smiles at me kindly, which is way more unnerving than comforting at the moment, and lightly touches my chest with the tip of his staff. The chair creaks ominously. 

In a poorly timed attempt to lighten the mood, I grin up at the Mage and raise my eyebrows, trying to ignore my racing heart. “That was the chair, I promise.” 

Instead of laughing (which I guess I probably shouldn’t have expected, in hindsight) (he must not be a fart joke guy), he digs the staff into my chest, making the chair tip back for a second. 

Well, shit. 

“We did have a plan, Simon. But you had to let your feelings get in the way, and now I have no choice but to get rid of you.” I don’t focus on the (probably important) end of that sentence, still stuck on the feelings part. 

I blink up at him, clearly confused. “What—What feelings?” The creepy smile vanishes. 

“You seriously don’t know— I give up.” He throws his hands up, moving the staff away. “I give up! Simon,” he glares at me. “You ruined our perfect plan the moment you kissed Pitch.” He practically spits out ‘Pitch’ and I flinch. 

What? But… that was… for the plan, right? Right?!

“I didn’t mean anything by the kiss! It was just to get him to trust me, like you said! I-I didn’t mean… I didn’t…” I trail off and look away from the Mage because now that I think about it, I definitely could have gained Baz’s trust in another way. Any other way. Why did I try to kiss him on the carpet? Why did I actually kiss him on the balcony?! 

Why was I so happy when he kissed back? 

“Face it, Simon. You don’t want to leave him in this spell. That makes you a liability.”

“No, no! I do! I- I want… I want to…” I swallow, blinking away tears. Why am I crying? I want this! I… I want to leave… him… no. No! I don’t! But I have to! I need to get out! Ugh! 

My fingers twitch and I tug against the ropes binding my wrists to the chair, wanting to do… something. Anything besides sitting here. No, no no no! You want to leave him. You NEED to leave him. It’s Baz, he’s your enemy. He’s… evil.

Even that sounds ridiculous now. There was nothing remotely “evil” about his smile on the balcony, or the way he leaned against me on the carpet, or how happy he seemed when talking about his little siblings on the steps in Cinderella. Or anything he’s done in this spell, really. 

Baz wasn’t evil. He was just… a boy. 

A boy I kissed. A boy I don’t hate. I don’t hate him at all. Not anymore. When did that happen? 

Why does the idea of leaving him in the spell suddenly make me sick? 

“You want to what, Simon? Clearly, you’re being manipulated and can’t see what’s happening right in front of you.” I shake my head roughly, trying to block his words out. 

No. It’s not true. I can’t—

“Don’t you get it? Either you leave the spell without Pitch or you don’t leave at all. Eventually one of you is going to slip up and it’s going to get you both killed. And now… now you’ve been corrupted. You’ll never get out of here. Which leaves me with no choice.” He smiles wickedly at me, then pushes me backwards with the end of his staff. 

“NO-!” My scream gets cut off as the freezing water floods around me, something heavy around my ankle dragging me further down into the depths. I hit the seafloor and the small breath I took before I was submerged is knocked out of me.  

I managed to break out of the ropes somewhere on the way down but the weight is ridiculously tight around my ankle, impossible to remove or drag up to the surface. 

Fuck. Fuck fuck fuck—

I kick as hard as I can away from the sandy seafloor, spots starting to blur around the edge of my vision.

No. 

I slowly stop struggling, letting everything around me fade in and out as my chest fills with unbearable pressure. My cheek brushes against the ground and I let my eyes flutter shut. 

Maybe… Maybe it’s for the best. It… It’ll be okay. If anyone can find a way out of here alone, it’s Baz. 

Everything... will be fine...

***

“Simon!” 

I’m woken up by—you guessed it—a slap to the face. This one is much stronger than your average monkey smack, though. 

“Wake up! You need to hurry!” I cough, spitting out some water—oh right, almost drowned—and squint up at Ebb’s terrified face before closing my eyes again and groaning. And here I had just accepted death. Now I had to wake up again? 

“I—“ My voice cracks halfway through the word and I clear my throat. A glass is immediately pressed into my hands, but the idea of putting water inside my mouth makes me feel slightly nauseated. 

“Simon, you need to get up, please.” Ebb begs, tugging at my hand. I open my eyes and set the glass down, weakly dragging a hand down my face.

“Ebb,” I say, my broken voice making me wince. “Please, give me a second. I literally drowned for a second there.” Instead of smiling at the (admittedly poor) attempt at a joke, she twists her fingers in front of her anxiously, glancing around the room. 

“I know, Si. I was the one who got you out of there. But you need to go, like, now.” I shake my head, then groan again when the action makes the room spin. 

“One minute. That’s all I’m aski—“

“You need to save Baz.” That stops me in my tracks. I stare up at her with wide eyes. 

“W-What?” She nods frantically. 

“The Mage is searching for Baz right now, and I don’t think he’s planning on having a nice little chat. He thinks you’re dead.” I jump to my feet, squeaking when the entire room starts swaying. Ebb pops up beside me and steadies me. “Whoa! Slow down!”

“No,” I gasp. “I need to get to Baz. I can’t… I can’t let him get hurt. I-I need to see him.” Ebb smiles sadly, patting my arm a couple times. 

“Let’s get going then.” 

She carefully but quickly guides me through the halls, stopping when we reach the throne room. We creep inside and hide behind one of the large pillars around the entrance, giving me a second to catch my breath. 

“Your Majesty, Your Highness. I’m so glad I found you.” The Mage’s voice sends chills through my body.

“Ah, welcome! What is it you need?” The sultan’s cheery voice reaches us from across the room. I can’t see anything with my back against the pillar. 

“You see, I don't know how to say this... Prince Simon… he was seen jumping off of the west tower earlier this morning.” Two gasps rang out, alerting me to Baz’s presence as well. 

“No, that’s absolutely terrible!” The sultan cries. “Did… did they find a—his—“

“Not yet. I’ve had my men searching since the news reached me, and I can assure y—“

“No.” Baz’s voice is quiet, but the Mage stops talking immediately. “No. This—This wasn’t how it was supposed to go. He was—He was supposed to—“ He cuts himself off with a strangled cry and something in my chest cracks. 

“Your Highness, I—“

“No! Are you sure. Are you sure that’s what happened? He didn’t… You were supposed to say he left the kingdom. Not—not that. This isn’t how the story is supposed to go. It’s not how the story is supposed to go. I did everything right, I swear! Why isn’t he—“ 

I try to turn, to run towards him, but Ebb keeps me in place with a sharp head shake. Why? How can she expect me to just stand when I can hear him crying just a few feet away? 

“I’m afraid these things just happen.” The Mage doesn’t sound even slightly remorseful and I pray Baz picks up on it. He's lying! Don't believe him!

“You,” he hisses, and I internally cheer when I hear the venom in his voice. Yes! There he is! “You did this.” 

“Now, now,” the sultan starts nervously, but Baz plows over him as if he’d never started talking. 

“No! It was you, wasn’t it? You killed him.” His voice cracks on ‘killed’ and once again I try to go to him but Ebb grips my wrist, frowning sharply at me. 

‘Not yet,’ she mouths. I give her a pleading look but she just shakes her head. ‘Wait.’

“Let’s not go jumping to such outrageous conclusions without any proof.” The Mage says, clearly smug. “After all, there isn’t even a body to signify his death.” Baz makes a choked sound that sounds suspiciously like a sob before I finally manage to break out of Ebb’s hold, rushing out from behind the pillar. 

I stumble a bit without her help but manage to keep myself upright, facing the other three in the room. 

I point at the Mage. “You.” He snarls. “You pushed me off of a fucking tower with a weight strapped to my foot! I didn’t jump off shit!” A shaking, disbelieving voice pulls me out of my rage. 

“Simon..?” I immediately drop the defensive stance when I turn to Baz, running over and wrapping my arms around him. He presses the side of his face into my shoulder and cries, trembling violently.  

“It’s okay. I’m okay. He didn’t hurt me. I’m fine.” He pushes closer, breathing quickly as his fingers grip my shirt. 

“But—But he threw you off of a tower?” I snort, nudging the side of his head with my nose. 

“Yeah, but I’ve been through worse. I’m fine.” Baz releases a shaky breath and loosens his death grip on me slightly. 

“Is that supposed to be comforting?” 

I laugh. “Well. Maybe? It sounded better in my head.” He sighs, sounding much more like himself, and looks up at me with a deadpan look. 

“Oh goodie. You’ve been through worse than literally drowning. I’m so relieved.” I grin, bumping our foreheads together. I missed this. I missed him. 

And to think that I accepted never seeing him again so easily. 

“This isn’t over!” The Mage’s outraged voice startles both of us out of the weird bubble we were in. The sultan takes a step towards him but before he can even reach out the room fills with red smoke. We all start coughing, waving away the colorful air.

By the time the smoke clears a bit—just enough to see through—the Mage is gone.

Chapter Text

THIS ISN'T AN UPDATE (expect that sometime in the next week or so—) BUT IT IS JUST AS—IF NOT MORE (definitely more)—IMPORTANT.

if you're confused that means you didn't read the title of this chapter, but i won't hold it against you. 

anywho.

SOMEONE VERY VERY TALENTED MADE FANART FOR MY FIC AND I CAN FINALLY SHARE IT WITH YOU

if you've been keeping up with the end notes then you already know this. i just had a shitty phone and no laptop so i couldn't attach the images without having a conniption

(if you haven't been keeping up: excuse you, i'm fucking hilarious occasionally [that's a lie] and you should probably go read those)

but now~

i have a laptop again. 

which means...

AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA-

GUYS I'M STILL FREAKING OUT GO GIVE nic0_draws SOME MUCH DESERVED ATTENTION ON INSTAGRAM RIGHT NOW. AGAIN. 

because i know you all did the last time when i told you to, right? right??

doesn't matter, do it now. i dare you. i triple dog dare you. times ten. thousand. yes. 

-moi

Chapter Text

Baz

I refuse to let Simon out of my sight. 

He told me what happened with the Mage and the tower in full after the bastard vanished and now anyone who wants him will have to pry him from my cold, dead hands. 

Wait. That idiom doesn’t work. (Is it an idiom if it’s actually true? Whatever.) 

Anyways, we’ve been hiding in the palace library since the sultan sent his men after the Mage. I’m currently seated on one end of a large couch, Simon on the other, with our legs stretched out between us as we read our separate books. It’s grossly domestic. 

He somehow managed to find a story that interested him and we’ve been reading in silence since. (the cover looked like some form of mythology? which was very unexpected, coming from him, but it appeared next to us when he sat and he hasn’t put it down since, so…)

I’m still making my way through the classic fairy tales. Every so often, Simon will huff at something in his book and I’ll catch myself staring at him, at the way he furrows his eyebrows when he’s concentrating on the story, the way he bites his lip and squints at the pages with a faraway look in his eyes. Just… him. He’s incredibly distracting. 

Also, I’m not quite sure where we stand anymore. 

I mean—I’m positive we’re above the whole “enemies” label by now, but that’s about it, clarity-wise. How does one explain us? Enemies to lovers? Enemies to hesitant acquaintances; tentative ‘friends’ to the person you kiss on a balcony? Is there even a term for the mess we’ve gotten ourselves into? 

Does he even remember the kiss? (I know I do. Merlin, there’s no way I’m forgetting it). I mean—he was immediately kidnapped, knocked out and drowned right after, only for the culprit to get away with the promise of returning. If I were him, kissing my—whatever we are—probably wouldn’t be anywhere near one of my biggest concerns. 

I wish I knew what he was thinking. 

“Hey, Baz?” I startle, blinking down at the book in my lap. Did he notice me staring? I didn’t even catch myself this time. Fortunately, when I turn my attention to him he’s still very much stuck to his book. I tilt my head to the side. 

“Yes, Snow?” His lips quirk upwards and he glances up at me for a second before turning back to his story. 

“You’ve called me Simon before.” I purse my lips, trying to hide a smile, and interlock my fingers in front of me casually.

“Hm, what was your question?” He looks like he wants to keep pushing the name thing (seriously, what is it with the name thing?) but ultimately decides to drop it. 

“Have you ever read this book?” I squint when he lifts it, showing me the cover, then shake my head. 

“I can’t say I have, why?” He shrugs, then grins at my instant glare. Fucking shrugging.

“Dunno. Seems like something you’d like. All poetic ‘n stuff.” 

“‘Poetic ‘n stuff?’” I repeat, incredulous. What’s he talking about? I’m not… poetic… and stuff… Ridiculous. He nods quickly, leaning into the space between us. Too close too close too close—

“Yeah! Like, here—“ He opens to a seemingly random page (but immediately starts scanning it, clearly looking for something, so it must not be as random as I had thought) and hums when he finds whatever he’s looking for. 

“Here." He clears his throat obnoxiously and I hate myself for finding it adorable. "‘I will never leave him. It will be this, always, for as long as he will let me.’” He pauses, then dons that faraway look again as he continues reading. My eyes slide shut and I allow myself a moment to just listen to his voice. “‘If I had had words to speak such a thing, I would have. But there were none that seemed big enough for it, to hold that swelling truth.’" He pauses again. "Yeah, super fancy and complicated and smart sounding and stuff.” He closes the book as I open my eyes, holding the page with his thumb, and reaches across our legs to poke my chest with the corner of the spine. “Just. Like. You.” 

Everyone who’s ever told him he struggled with words (including myself, many many times) is a fucking liar, apparently. Because he just said a few sentences on a random page in this book I’ve never even heard of before today and suddenly my heart decided to go for gold with a olympic gymnastics floor routine. If he can read so easily right here, why the hell is he always having troubles in class? 

But he seemed to know what he was looking for. Why did he pick that specific line? Why that line to me—

I should stop myself. Thoughts like these are what caused too many slip-ups in the past. 

But, my mind unhelpfully argues, At Watford, Simon didn’t like me. It didn’t matter when I slipped up and revealed too much; he never noticed.

He didn’t kiss me either, though—

Stop it! No! No hope! Hope kills the weak, and we’ve established long ago that you’re very weak in affiliation with Simon Snow. Knock it off. Bad. 

I ignore my inner mess and will my face to stay the same shade, thank you kindly, then raise an eyebrow at him. 

“I’m going to… take that as a compliment.” He snorts, dropping back against the arm of the couch. 

“All right.” We watch each other for a few seconds in a surprisingly comfortable silence (considering the company). When it becomes clear he’s done talking I let my lips curl up and turn back to my book. 

After a few minutes of not hearing his page flip I look up at him, then do a subtle double-take. 

Simon, having just been caught staring at me with… some expression on his face, quickly turns away, cheeks bright red. I bite my lip to hide a smile and watch him for a second, making my amusement clear as he almost unnoticeably looks at me for a brief second. (Key word: Almost. I've had too much practice in sneaking glances of him and he lacks subtlety) 

“See something you like, Snow?” He huffs but his ears get noticeably darker. Cute—NO. NOT CUTE. Dammit Baz, stop being gay for one fucking minute.

“Distracted, ‘s all,” he mumbles, still refusing to look at me. I let out a bark of laughter, nudging his leg lightly with one of my feet still laying between us. 

“Care to share with the class?” He huffs and shakes his head, finally making eye contact with me. 

“You mumble, when you’re thinking.” I freeze. Record scratch. Hold the fuck up.

“I-I do not—” I splutter, trying not to think about the things I could have mentioned in the past hour or so without realizing. Like the kiss. And my stupid, stupid feelings. 

Pitches do not mumble. Especially not without being aware of it. 

He nods, slowly grinning as if realizing this is something he can finally hold against me. (It might be—What did I say what did I say what did I say—) 

“Yep.” I raise an eyebrow at his confident expression (I’m completely cool and collected. I'm not at all panicking. Said raised eyebrow does not twitch). I take a deep breath, leaning towards him. 

“Hm, and what exactly was I saying?” I know that’s a risky question, that I could just be digging myself into a hole, but if I happened to be talking about something non-incriminating (not that I was actually speaking out loud) I need to make Simon well aware that it isn’t some huge, scandalous thing he can use to take me down. That is, assuming whatever I said (or didn’t say!) wasn’t something along the lines of a confession. 

It’s almost funny, how so much has changed in the short span of time we’ve been stuck in the spell, yet we easily fall back into our old routine of constantly trying to one-up the other. But now it’s less antagonistic, more playful. It’s… nice.

“I… I dunno, you were kinda quiet,” he huffs, clearly upset with his lack of actual proof. I let out a silent sigh of relief. Nothing to worry about, see? It’s another win for me, then. That makes this... zero for Simon in our little matches and however many we’ve done throughout our time at Watford for me. It doesn’t matter. I’ve won. Again.

I’m not gloating, shut up. 

“Sorry, what was that?” I raise a hand to my ear, obviously mocking him. “I couldn’t hear you. Did you say—” He groans, covering his face. I grin, raising my voice. “Did you say you didn’t hear me—” 

“Stoooooooppp,” he whines, somehow laughing and scowling at the same time. 

Okay. Maybe I’m gloating a little bit.

“No, Snow. I don’t believe I will.” He blows a raspberry at me and I wrinkle my nose. “Very mature.” 

“You deserved it, you prat. You, uh… You said something about finding a way to get out of here using other fairy tales or something. Yeah. There.” He leans back and crosses his arms, blowing a stray hair out of his face. Cute. NO—

I sigh. “All right, Snow. I’ll give you this one.” His face positively lights up and he jumps forward (obviously about to celebrate his first “victory” obnoxiously) but I hold a hand out, glaring at him. “But only this one. Don’t expect it to happen again. One of my greatest joys in life is proving you wrong.” He rolls his eyes, slightly subdued once again. 

“Yeah, yeah. I know. But it still counts.” I purse my lips like I’m considering denying him, but break immediately and start laughing when he tries to glare at me. It’s adorable; his face gets all scrunched up and he looks like a pouting child. 

“Yeah, well I’ve got about… hmm… six years of wins on you, so. I guess I can concede one for your ego.” He scoffs, crossing his arms and turning away. I stifle another laugh in my fist. 

“Whatever.” He sighs, then noticeably tenses for seemingly no reason. I briefly glance in the direction he’s facing to find whatever made him so uncomfortable but he starts talking, distracting me. “Did you… uh. Did you come up with any good ideas? To get out?” I frown at the subject change, silently analyzing him. 

“None that would actually work. Why?”

He shifts, staring down at his hands, which are fidgeting anxiously in his lap. Strange. “Um. No reason. Just… wanted to ask I guess. Heh.” He scratches the back of his neck and I raise an eyebrow. 

“Mhm… okay.” I make the skepticism clear in my voice, which only causes Simon to fidget even more. “What is it really, Snow?” My tone sounds more annoyed than I meant, but I can’t take it back. I pretend I don’t see him flinch away from me a bit. Great going, Basilton. A+

“Let’s say… let’s say you found a way out of here. Of the spell. And… this way, it only lets you leave. Alone. What—What would you do?” Oh. He thinks I’m going to… find a way to leave him in the spell, alone? Surely he knows better than that by now, right?

I sigh, reaching forward to rest a hand on his bent knee in between us. He finally meets my eyes, biting on his thumb. 

“If you’re worried about me leaving you here, stop.” I try to smile gently, but he still looks doubtful. How can I convince him that I’m telling him the truth? 

My mouth starts moving before my brain, something that rarely happens. I can only hope I say something useful. 

“I may be a literal monster, but I do have morals, Simon.” Well. I guess that works. “I would never leave someone here—extravagant and luxurious as it is—alone with no known escape. It… it sounds awful.” I shiver slightly, imagining going through all of this without Simon. 

He slumps for a moment and some strange emotion flickers across his face before he looks down again. Weird. Instead of over analyzing the odd reaction, I wait for him to process the first part of my sentence. The part where I basically revealed my identity as a vampire. Fuck, I’m an idiot.

Three. 

Two. 

One. 

His head snaps up and he gapes at me. There it is. 

“Did you just—You just told me—You basically just admitted—“

I lean back, watching in amusement (and fear. definitely a lot of fear. also anxiety. can’t forget that). “Well, you’ve known since the beginning. No harm in telling you now, I suppose.” He stammers incoherently, arms flailing around as he collects his thoughts. 

“But you’ve never admitted—“ 

I smirk. “You’ve never asked.”

He makes a choked sound. “I’m pretty fucking sure I did—“ 

I can’t help it. I start to laugh, then I can’t stop. Simon whines just as I start to calm down, which sets me off again.

“Baz! Stop laughing!” I shake my head, hugging my arms around my waist as I struggle to breathe through giggles. “It’s not funny! You just casually confirmed something you’ve been denying for literal years while I’ve been telling everyone, like-like it was nothing! My entire worldview is-is flipped upside down—” He’s struggling to keep his composure now, too. 

“Well, then,” I manage to gasp, “I guess it’s time you learn how to do handstands, then.” Oddly enough (or maybe not, knowing Simon) his face lights up. 

“Oh! I actually know how to do those!” I blink up (fucking up) and him incredulously. Oh my fucking god.

“You what?” He nods quickly. 

“Yeah! In third year Penny said I wouldn’t be able to hold a handstand for two minutes straight so I spent my free time outside of class practicing for a week. I got pretty good at it.” He frowns, scratching his head. “It’s been a while, though. I wonder…” My mouth falls open as he stands, then flips upside down, swinging his legs in the air within seconds. I wince and reach out to grab at him when he starts tipping, but he quickly rights himself with a triumphant “Aha!” and I retract my hands hesitantly. 

“How—How are you—“ I can’t even finish the sentence, a little too focused on how his shirt is riding up—down?—as he sways to keep his balance. (Why, why do I have to be so gay at the worst times?) I force myself to look at anything other than Simon and his stupid bare stomach, that asshole, only to immediately turn back and snort when he screeches and falls backwards. “I wasn’t counting, but I’m pretty sure that wasn't two minutes, Snow.” 

He sits up, groaning and rubbing his head. His entire face is bright red and I’m once again glad my bloodlust doesn’t exist here; I’d probably do something I’d regret. That’s really going to suck, once we get out of here.

Simon curses, dropping backwards and staring at the ceiling with a dazed expression. “That was… a lot easier… when I was fourteen.” I lean on the arm of the couch, watching him. He lazily turns his head to look at me with a small grin and I can physically feel my heart stop for a second before picking back up at a much faster pace. 

“Hi,” he whispers, because he’s an idiot. A cute idiot, but an idiot nonetheless.

Of course, I’m absolutely besotted with him, so I respond just as quietly, “Hi.” 

Neither of us move for a while, I’m not entirely sure how long. Then Simon sits up, not breaking eye contact with me, and tucks his legs under him, raising himself a few inches. I take a deep breath as his hand reaches towards me and gently rests on the back of my neck. My eyes search his for something, anything to explain what’s going on in his mind. 

“What are you..?” I trial off, my voice quieter than a whisper. Instead of responding, a light pressure behind my head pushes me forward and he leans towards me, eyes closing, and oh. That’s what he’s doing. 

I let my own eyes shut as he closes the distance between us and for the second time in 24 hours Simon Snow is kissing me. 

Only this time, I know for a fact this wasn’t just a part of the story. This—whatever this is—is Simon doing something of his own free will. It doesn’t make any sense. Nothing with him makes sense anymore—maybe it never did.

He pulls away and I blink a few times, staring directly into his eyes. “Is—Is this okay?” He asks, his voice low. I roll my eyes, smiling as I take the collar of his shirt, and pull him back in. I stop just close enough to feel his lips brush lightly against mine. 

“You’re an idiot.”

This time, I’m the one who closes the distance.

Simon

I don’t know what we’re doing. I don’t know what I’m doing. 

I do know how to make lists, though. And right now I’m making one of random observations in hopes that it will somehow sort through the shit in my head, or help me to ignore it easier. 

It’s not working.

Things To Not Think About: 

1. Baz is almost worryingly cold (always. because he’s a vampire. oh my fucking god he’s actually a vampire. I’m kissing a vampire.)
2. His hair is softer than I imagined (and, now that I think about it, I’ve definitely imagined it. A lot. Huh.) 
3. I really like kissing him.

I don’t know how to feel about that last one. 

Something about kissing Baz is different from kissing Agatha. With Agatha it’s like… plasticky? I don’t know how else to describe it. It doesn’t feel real. It feels like we’re playing characters in a children’s story or something. It’s... routine, I guess. I thought that was fine. It certainly wasn’t bad.

But then I kissed Baz. 

Then I kissed him again.

Then he kissed me. 

And it… It feels entirely different from Agatha. It’s alive, it’s overwhelming, in the best way. Kissing Baz is like the feeling I get when I see Penny for the first time after a long summer—in terms of excitement, of course. I don’t want to kiss Penny. I want… I want to kiss Baz. What the fuck, I want to kiss Baz. 

This is weird. This is very weird. 

At least I don’t have to worry about leaving him in the spell now (god, I felt like shit when he said he’d never leave me here). There’s no way I’m working with the Mage. Not anymore. I’m not sure why I ever decided to. 

It doesn’t matter anymore. I will find a way out of this spell, without the Mage’s help, and Baz will be coming with me. I press myself closer to him and tighten my hold on his neck, a silent promise. I won’t leave you here. Not anymore. You’re stuck with me now, whether you like it or not. 

“Oh!” The sultan’s cheerful voice calls from the entrance for the library, scaring the shit out of me. I jerk away from Baz and fall onto my back, smacking my head against the ground. 

I vaguely process Baz struggling through an explanation (Baz. Struggling. I’d celebrate if I wasn’t in so much pain.) as the sultan watches us in innocent amusement. Bless that man. 

I groan, sitting up and rubbing the back of my head. “What’s goin’ on?” Baz looks down to me, expression somehow both relieved and flustered. It’s hilarious. 

“I thought I’d stop by and let you know that the kingdom is being gathered as we speak for the announcement!”

“Announcement?” I ask. What announcement? The sultan smiles giddily, hopping in place. 

“Ah, yes! I will be informing the people of your engagement!” Baz and I both glance at each other, blushing, before quickly looking away. 

“En-Engagement?” Baz asks, his voice cracking. I just nod along. The sultan waves him off. 

“Yes! Unless, of course, you are not… getting engaged..?” He looks at us expectantly and I find myself turning to Baz again. 

He looks completely overwhelmed (can relate) but he glances at me for a split second in search of what I assume is support and I try to seem as encouraging as possible (which probably isn’t a lot). Even if I’m not working with the Mage (never. again.), I’m pretty sure this is the best way to get out of here. So I’m all for it. 

“Sure. Yes. We’re—we’re engaged.” Baz sounds slightly breathless, looking back to me with some emotion I can’t place. I ignore the warmth in my face and smile back, shrugging. 

“Why not? Never been to a wedding before, could be fun.” Baz snorts and mouths the word “Idiot” to me. I feel my smile widen. 

“Oh, wonderful! I’ll head out now. Please, go to your rooms quickly and get ready; then we can show the kingdom our new happy couple!” 

Baz looks at me again, blushing, and I grin up from the ground. The sultan rushes out of the room, prompting a man and woman I’ve never seen to walk in. 

“We will be escorting you two to your rooms.” I pull myself up and stumble a bit towards one of them, looking over my shoulder quickly to flip Baz off when I hear him laugh. 

I spin around, walking backwards towards the doors, and wink at him. “Now, it’s not very nice to laugh at your fiancé.” 

He jolts, then opens and closes his mouth a few times, completely frozen in place. I grin and shoot finger guns at him, then vanish around the corner and into the hallway. 

The woman huffs quietly to herself before leading me to my room in silence. I don’t mind—I have too many thoughts running through my head to hold any sort of conversation right now. 

When I make it to my room I collapse backwards onto the bed and sigh, turning to look at the lamp. 

“Hey, Ebb?” Almost immediately, she pops up next to me, cross-legged. 

“Hiya Simon! How’s it going?” I sigh again, burying my face in my hands. Good question.

“I don’t know. I really, really don’t know.”

A hand rests on my shoulder, patting reassuringly. “Hmm. Try starting with the biggest thing going through your mind right now, then elaborate on it.” 

I take a deep breath and tell her about the Mage. I explain the plan, and how I want nothing to do with it, and how I really don’t want to leave Baz here alone. 

She smiles, looking oddly proud. “I’m really glad to hear that, Si. So what’s next?” 

I sigh, collapsing back onto the pillows. “Well,” I start. “The Mage unfortunately had the right idea with the whole ‘becoming sultan’ thing, I think. I don’t remember exactly how this one goes but I’m pretty sure this is how we’re supposed to move the story along.”

“Mhm."

“So, we just have to go along with whatever the sultan says and hope it all turns out, I guess.” 

Ebb pats my shoulder again, smirking at me. “Great plan. Now, about Baz~”

I splutter, quickly turning red. What does she know— “Nothing! There’s nothing about Baz! Everything is completely normal between us. Yes. Yes. Stop looking at me like that.” She raises an eyebrow and puts her hands up defensively. 

“I didn’t say anything, but okay. Sure.” I hide my face behind my hands again, groaning loudly. Stop it, Simon. You’re beginning to seem paranoid. This is ridiculous. You’re fine. Everything is fine. 

“Ebb, what do I do?” I whine, not caring in the slightest how childish I probably sound. She laughs, flicking my forehead.

“Listen to that brain of yours. I know you like going in with gut instincts and heart, but sometimes you miss some pretty great things happening up in the ol’ attic.” She shrugs, twirling a strand of her hair around a finger. “And who knows? Maybe your mind and your heart want the same thing. You just need to listen to ’em.”

I nod slowly. “Okay, that makes sense, I guess.” Ebb flicks my forehead again. I swat her hand away. 

“Don’t you have somewhere to be, lover boy?” I scrunch up my nose. 

“Lover—?” Oh. OH. I jump up, frantically adjusting my clothes. “Fuck! I need to go!”

“Language!”

I stick my tongue out at her, rushing towards the door. “Bye Ebb! Thanks for everything! See you after the, uh, the thing!” She laughs as she waves me off, shaking her head in amusement. I feel the weird urge to give her a hug. 

“Bye, Si. Be careful out there.” I barely hear the end of that sentence before I’m out of earshot, sprinting down the corridors. 

I nearly crash into Baz in my rush, who looks just as frazzled as I feel. 

“Where were you?” He asks, then shakes head, turning around and dragging me behind by the wrist. “It doesn’t matter. We have to go, they’re waiting for us.” 

“They?” I ask, tripping over my feet as he pulls me along. 

“The entire kingdom, Snow.” His voice is a strange mix between annoyed and fond. I find myself smiling, even when he sneers at me over his shoulder. “Would it have killed you to be punctual just once?”

“Sorry!” He rolls his eyes and pushes me through a pair of balcony doors. I brace myself on a railing in front of me and blink at the massive crowd of people screaming below me. 

Baz approaches silently beside me, much more graceful than my own entrance. Of fucking course. 

The sultan, already on the balcony, starts some speech about love and bringing two sides together and yadda yadda but I barely process any of it. Not when Baz is right there looking completely indifferent to the events around us. Even so, I can see the underlying nervousness.

“Hey,” I whisper, nudging his side. He bristles, but his face doesn’t change. “What’s wrong?” An almost imperceptible head shake. 

“I don’t like this.” I frown. Did I do something wrong?

“Don’t like what?” He sighs, still tense. 

“Something should have happened by now, but it’s not.” 

I notice he’s right when I look to the sultan and see him just awkwardly standing there, completely silent. The crowd is also eerily quiet, only hushed conversations reaching us. That’s… odd. 

“Wait yeah, what’s going o—“

BOOM!

We all flinch, whipping around and looking up at the sky. Red clouds start swirling above the palace, bathing everything in a dark light. 

“The Mage,” Baz gasps. I squint in the direction he’s staring at and feel my eyes widen in surprise. 

“What’s he doing?” Everyone watches as he cradles… something in his hands, standing in a courtyard-looking area above us. 

The item glints in the low light and I freeze. 

“The lamp. Oh no, oh fuck—” I pat my pockets, trying to find it even though I know I left it in my room. Shit shit shit—

He rubs the side of it and Ebb appears, absolutely massive. She towers over the entire palace, making it look like a toy dollhouse in comparison to her. 

She shakes her head sadly and reaches a huge hand forward, pulling the entire castle into the clouds. Somehow, she lets go and we don’t go falling to our deaths. Movie magic at its finest, huh?

She pulls the balcony we’re settled on out of the wall and drops it on the floor of the courtyard a ways away from the Mage. 

He smiles creepily at us, still holding the lamp. I glance over at Baz and nearly flinch at the fierce glare he’s directing towards the Mage. 

“Nice work, Simon.” The Mage’s voice sends chills down my spine and I freeze. Me? He laughs haughtily. “And here I thought you couldn’t do it. I guess I should have trusted you, after all.” 

Something clicks in my mind and I barely hold back a scream of frustration. He’s trying to trick me. Or frame me. Or both. 

“Simon, what’s he talking about?” Baz asks, voice shaking. I flinch. 

“Nothing,” I say, then wince when it comes out more defensive than I wanted. Baz turns to face me fully, confusion written into every inch of his face. The Mage speaks before I can even think of a way to explain this shitshow. 

“Oh, you haven’t told him the news yet? Well, I suppose you wouldn’t want to, if our plan was to go as we had discussed.” 

No no no. I don’t want to work with you anymore! Stop making me seem like a bad guy! 

“Simon. What does he mean? What news? What plan?” Baz is still staring at me, something similar to dread joining the confusion. I reach forward and grab his hands desperately, clinging to them with a death grip. He squeezes back just as hard. 

“Nothing, don’t listen to him. He’s just trying to set us against each other.” Baz still looks conflicted, which apparently is enough incentive for the Mage to continue. 

“Oh, does he really not know anything?” He laughs, then frowns in fake sympathy. “I’m afraid your precious ‘Snow’ hasn’t been entirely honest with you.” 

I scowl at him. “Don’t.” 

He grins wickedly. “Watch me.” He takes a few steps forward, closer to us. “Our plan is almost complete, Simon. You just need to break the news. Then you’re out of here for good.” I shake my head, ignoring Baz’s stare. 

“No. No. I’m not—I’m not working with you. I’ll find my own way out.” 

He pouts mockingly. “Aww, Simon. You know you don’t need to keep up the silly little act anymore; the plan is complete! You convinced Pitch that you were in love and got engaged to the prince. Now you can finally leave the spell, and you won’t have to worry about him again!” I open my mouth, ready to yell, but Baz’s quiet voice interrupts me.

“You’re lying.” I internally sigh with relief. Good. Baz doesn’t even believe him. It’s fine. Everything is fine. 

The Mage clicks his tongue. “No, I’m really not.” With a wave of his hand the air in front of him ripples, then starts glowing, blurry figures and muffled voices slowly becoming more and more clear. 

No. 

The projection-like screen shows the Mage talking to me as we walk through the dunes. I somehow know exactly what Projector-Me is going to say, but I can’t tear my eyes away from the screen. 

“You need to convince the prince to marry you,” Projector-Mage says . “That will make you the sultan.”

The look of genuine shock on my face is easily mistaken for disgust. No! I didn’t mean it like that!

“I have to do what?!”

Of course, my words didn’t help either. 

The air ripples again, then suddenly I’m tied to the chair, staring desperately at something in front of me. 

“I didn’t mean anything by the kiss! It was just to get him to trust me, like you said!” 

I physically feel the moment Baz closes off next to me in my bones. 

My entire left side damn near goes numb with the frigid air surrounding him. The screen vanishes. I stare down at my feet, unable to face either of them. 

Baz’s voice is just as cold and collected as it is when I truly fuck up and piss him off (the one that means I should probably run far, far away if I want to keep all of my internal organs, well, internal.) when he speaks again. 

“The question in the library… About leaving someone in the spell. That wasn’t hypothetical, was it?” I turn to him immediately and shake my head wildly, waving my hands. 

“No, no— Wait, it’s not what it looks li—“

“Was it?!” He snarls, his voice breaking as his previous composure completely dissipates. I gape at him, stunned by the outburst. This can’t be happening right now. This can’t actually be happening. 

I’m still speechless (why can’t I fucking speak? Goddamn it, Simon. Use your fucking words.) when he glares at me through teary eyes, ripping his hands out of my own. I almost forgot I was still holding them. I reach for him again, protesting weakly. 

“Don’t,” he hisses. “Don’t touch me.” 

The Mage laughs again but I can’t look away from Baz. “It’s a shame,” The Mage starts, “but I guess I’ll just have to go through with the plan myself, hm?” 

Baz refuses to look at me, instead staring resolutely at the ground. I can just barely see tears running down his cheeks, falling silently to the floor. It hurts so much more than I thought it would. I wasn’t ready for the ache I’d feel, the stinging in my own eyes as I watched him fail to keep his unbothered mask in place. 

“You, genie!” The Mage’s call breaks me out of my thoughts. I hesitantly tear my eyes away from Baz and crane my head up towards Ebb, who was subtly wiping away tears in her giant state. She blinks and frowns at the Mage.

“What?” 

“I have my first wish. Make me sultan!” Ebb shakes her head, then snaps her fingers, switching out the Mage’s clothes for something much more fancy. No… 

He grins, pushing his sleeves up. “Wonderful. For my next wish, I want to be a powerful sorcerer.” Ebb sends me a helpless look as she snaps again, hitting the Mage with a lightning bolt-type flash. 

“You can’t do this!” I shout, rushing forward. I make it a few feet before he raises a hand, freezing me in place. A strangled cry crawls its way out of my throat as I try to push against the magic around me, but it’s as if I’m paralysed. I can only just barely inhale shallow breaths through my nose.

“Oh Simon,” he says, stepping forward and patting my cheek patronizingly. My mouth can’t even force a curse at him past my lips. “I believe I already have.” I stare wide-eyed ahead, unsure of what to do. Think, think, THINK.

“Ah, ah! Not so fast, Pitch. It appears you’re… running out of time… ha, get it?” My heart jumps to my throat when I hear the glee in the Mage’s voice. I can't move my eyes or see what Baz is doing, but it’s obviously not going to be good. Can’t can’t can’t. I can’t do anything. I can’t save him. I can’t… 

I can’t do this anymore.

I manage another strangled scream, straining against the spell, before the Mage comes back into view. He takes my chin and roughly shakes my head back and forth, humming.

“Oh, I suppose you would like to see him?” I make another vaguely animalistic sound in the back of my throat and my heart rate picks up when I’m slowly spun to the left, so I can see Baz. 

He’s somehow stuck inside of a giant hourglass that’s rapidly filling up with sand. What the… I can’t hear anything but he’s clearly panicking as he pounds on the glass, trying to break out. Oh shit. The same thing happened in Cinderella, right? Trapped in an enclosed space?

The spell around me suddenly releases and I drop to the ground, gasping. My lungs spasm as I suck in a huge breath, trying to ease the pounding in my head. Then, the second I gather my bearings a bit, I sprint over to the hourglass (the sand just reached Baz’s chest, fuck) and look for something to break it with. From this close, I can hear his muffled voice screaming behind the glass. Oh god, oh shit—

“Not ssssso fasssssssst,” I whip back around just in time to watch the horrifying sight that is the Mage turning into a massive snake. What the fuck what the fuck what the fuck— 

He hisses and lurches forward, snapping his jaws at me. I grab a random sword that appears beside me (thanks, movie magic) and swing at him as hard as I can. The sword just barely brushes the giant scales when he wraps around me and curls up tight, squeezing me. 

I wheeze as the air is forced out of my lungs, vision blurring in and out of focus. Again? Really?  

Just as I start to slump forward—nearly unconscious—a loud roar sounds from nearby, followed by an anguished scream. I’m knocked out of the Mage’s hold and drop onto the ground, sliding a few feet away . A flash of black and orange fur passes briefly and I smile weakly. Oh hey, the demon cat liked me after all. 

I cough violently, rolling over to my back and inhaling deeply. 

Baz. 

I slowly—every type of movement hurts, especially involving my neck, for some reason—turn my head to the side, jolting in fear when I only see a pale hand sticking out of the completely full hourglass. 

No, no no NO—

I crawl over to him, shaking violently as I pull myself up to my knees, and adjust my grip on the sword, pressing my forehead against the cool glass for balance. Then I jam the hilt of the sword into the hourglass as hard as I can, once, twice, three times until it shatters, releasing a wave of sand. 

I sob, collapsing forward, then push myself up and start sifting through it with my arms, trying to find Baz. The broken glass cuts my arms, but the pain doesn’t even register through my panicked haze. Please, please be okay. 

The second I feel something solid I cling to it, pulling it towards me as hard as I possibly can. A flash of jet-black hair enters my vision and I choke out a pathetic whimper, laying him down gently beside me. 

“Baz…” My hands scramble to wipe as much sand away as possible. He looks pale as a ghost (or a vampire), with tiny grains of sand still stuck in the small creases on his face. I swipe some off of his cheekbones, sobbing with relief when his eyes crack open. Thank god. Merlin. Magic itself. The bloody universe. Everything and anything at this point.

“Wh… Simon?” I nod mindlessly, just watching him as he slowly gains awareness again. He stares up at me in astonishment, then confusion, then the freezing anger is back and his eyes narrow into a dark glare. “Get away from me.” My eyes widen when he tries to sit up and I reach out to help him, but he pushes me back with a glower. “Get. Away.”

“Baz—“

He grits his teeth and snarls at me, shoving me hard in the sternum. I let out a strangled scream (my entire chest and torso is throbbing from the Mage’s suffocation bit earlier) and flinch away, curling into myself as my vision fades in and out. Fucking OW

Through blurry eyes I watch Baz stand unsteadily, stumble forward, and pick up the lamp (left unattended on the ground, oddly enough). He glares up at the Mage, still in snake form. What’s he doing?!

He rubs the side of the lamp and Ebb appears at his side in her regular form and size, expression sorrowful. Baz tightens his hold on the lamp and takes a deep breath, eyes dropping to the ground.

“I’m done with this story. I’m done with this spell. And I am done with the lies.” His voice cracks on ‘lies’ as he glances back at me, but he shakes it off and turns to Ebb, a determined glint in his eyes. My vision swims and I rest my temple against the cool ground as he continues talking. 

“Clearly, the spell doesn’t require everything to go exactly how the stories go. Maybe because there’s so much variation between the different versions told over time? Whatever.” He’s rambling uncharacteristically, but it’s clearly helping him regain his composure. He stops shaking as much and looks visibly less frazzled. 

“The point is, following that logic, I should be able to do whatever I want, divert from the plot however I please, so long as the story ends the same way it does in the classic fairy tales.” He turns to Ebb, a slightly crazed look in his eyes. “Right?”

She smiles sadly and shakes her head. “That, I can’t tell you.” His face drops and she places a gentle hand on the lamp between them. “What’ll it be, little one?” She asks softly. Baz takes another steadying breath, the determined look slowly coming back. I hold my breath.

“I wish for the Mage to be an all powerful genie, like you.” 

He… He WHAT?!

“Baz! No, that’s insane!” I shout from the ground, my voice barely more than a croak. He doesn’t show any signs of hearing me, just glares up at the Mage as Ebb snaps her fingers. I shakily push myself up onto my elbows, grimacing as sand sticks to the stinging cuts from the glass. 

Side note: hearing a gigantic snake that looks like it belongs in your nightmares cackle is positively terrifying, 0/10, would not recommend. 

In the blink of an eye the Mage is just as big as Ebb was earlier, now in a human-ish form again. He laughs manically, screeching about the power, but then cries out when two shackles appear around his wrists, dragging him down to the destroyed courtyard. What the—

A dark, twisted lamp pops into existence and I watch in muted horror as the Mage is sucked towards it, screaming in agony the entire way. 

The courtyard is silent for a moment after he disappears. Ebb steps forward, picks up the lamp, and rears her arm back, throwing it far into the distance. It fades out of view over the dunes outside of the kingdom and I collapse again—in relief, this time—my arms too weak to hold me up. 

Baz’s voice is muffled (although that’s probably just the fuzzy shock taking over my mind, now that the conflict is over) and barely reaches me from halfway across the courtyard. I grit my teeth and hold back a whimper of pain, once again curling up in a ball. 

“Ebb, my second wish is for the law on marriage to be changed; only the heir may choose their partner, regardless of status.” A few seconds pass before Ebb clears her throat.

“Anything else? You still have one wish left.”

“I wish for your freedom.” Her… what?

I don’t hear Ebb’s response, but I do tip my head over just in time to see her glow a bright yellow before the lamp in Baz’s hand disappears. 

Baz, still facing away, nods once and wraps his arms around himself, then looks over his shoulder at me. 

I cough, curling into a tighter ball when it sends a sharp wave of pain across my entire chest. You know, maybe I should start considering the possibility of these injuries being more than superficial.

Baz keeps his face carefully neutral, though his eyes are holding more emotions than I can possibly sort through at the moment. 

We make eye contact for a long second before the ground vanishes, dropping us into darkness once again. 

Somehow, I know Baz doesn’t reach for me.

Chapter Text

Baz

Stupid. Stupid, stupid, stupid. God, I’m such an idiot. 

I can’t believe I actually—

I can’t believe he—

Fuck! 

So, so stupid. 

Never again. I will never let something like this happen again. I should have known. I should have known. Of course he didn’t actually want to… what? What were we even doing? Stargazing? Kissing a few times? Showing each other basic human decency for once? And that was apparently enough for my ridiculous feelings to decide it was finally happening, the thing I’d been waiting—no, foolishly dreaming of, for so long? 

‘Do you trust me?’

I shouldn’t have. I really, really shouldn’t have. God, how could I be so. Fucking. Stupid. 

I hate myself for it, but nearly every cell in my fucking body is pleading with me to go to him, to help him off the ground, to make sure he’s okay. He went down a while ago when I shoved him away (stupid, stupid, stupid) and hasn’t made an effort to get back up since. Which… is not like him at all. 

How much do you really ‘know’ him, though? You thought you finally had him at least a little figured out, and look where that got you.

And then there’s the rest of me. The stubborn, betrayed part of my mind. I can’t tune out the voices in my head, screaming about my naivety. Screaming about him. Screaming about absolutely everything. 

I can’t stop thinking.

The second the ground vanishes I cross my arms tightly across my chest, hoping with everything I have that we wake up in our world. For the first time, I actually find myself despising Bunce. Despite her constantly being shadowed by Simon and his, well, everything, she’s clearly the brains in their little duo. I’ve always respected her for sticking around him so long. 

I never held her brilliance against her. Not until now. I would give just about anything to get out. Anything to end this mess. 

I don’t wake up on the floor this time. Nor do I find an oversized feline hovering over me. (I miss Rajah already.) The sky opens up below me and I start free-falling towards what looks to be a shallow lake, miles below. The air around me shimmers for a second before my clothes are replaced with a magenta grecian-looking outfit. What the…

I barely have a moment to process the fact that I’m in yet another story (ugh) before a bird squawks next to my head, shattering the momentary internal peace I was starting to feel.

Wait a damn minute.

You can’t survive a fall from this high in the air—not without a spell to slow yourself. I’m going to fucking die wait no no no NO NO NO NONONONONONONO—

“ AGH —”

I wheeze and groan as the breath is knocked out of my lungs with no absolutely no warning by what feels like a sack of fucking bricks. Is anything in a movie world supposed to hurt that much? Whatever I hit wasn’t nearly as impacted as I was, seeing as it just grunts lowly and sways in its place. Something large closes around my waist. I carefully open one of my eyes, then the other in shock. My gaze slowly follows the lines of a broad, dark chest up to a twisted face. 

A massive centaur-looking creature grins down at me with what is possibly the most horrifying smile known to man. Like, he could give the Mage a run for his money. 

I squeak out a small “Eep!" (though I will deny ever making such a sound if anybody were to ask) and his grin widens. 

“Looky here at what I caught! What a pretty little thing...” I gag, shoving his face back with my hand and swinging my legs out of his arms, then hop to the ground. I wipe my hands on my silky clothes as I shudder. (seriously though—they’re so. soft.)

“Nope, sorry. I don’t date older men, and you’re…” I reach up and tug at his beard thing before starting off in the opposite direction, calling over my shoulder, “ ...definitely not my age.” 

He aims that disturbing grin at me again and clambers forwards at a speed far too fast for my eyes to track. I nearly pass out from shock; because that’s some horror movie shit right there, and I want no part of it.

He grabs my arm and laughs loudly, dragging me closer to him. I struggle against his hold, scratching and clawing at his hand even though I know it’s useless; his entire hand fits around my wrist and then some. 

He wraps a giant arm around my waist and hoists me up to chest level like I weigh nothing, smooshing me against him hard enough that I grimace in pain. I let out a strangled scream through gritted teeth as he drags me towards the lake, kicking and twisting around the entire way. He just cackles, undeterred as he trots into the shallow water.  

“Let me go—” I cry out in frustration as the centaur tightens his grip around me, completely unaffected by my escape efforts. Show something, dammit! 

At least Simon’s not here to s—

“Halt!” 

I groan loudly, rolling my eyes. Of course. Of FUCKING course he had to show his stupidly self-righteous face right at this exact second—

“Step aside, two legs!” I curl my lip at the centaur with disgust. Two legs? Lame insult, buddy.

“I, uh. I’m gonna have to ask you to let… uhm. Release your captive there.” I sigh, crossing my arms and fixing Simon with the most deadpan stare I’m capable of making. Which is saying a lot.

“Eloquent as ever, Snow. But I’m afraid you’ve wasted your charm because I’m perfectly fine. Move along.” I wave two fingers at him, shooing him away dismissively. He shakes his head and takes a step forward, looking between the centaur and I with obvious skepticism.

“You don’t look fine.” 

I smile sweetly, uncrossing my arms and kicking a dangling leg out almost cheerfully if not for the obvious sarcasm radiating from my entire being. 

“No? That’s odd, because I feel just dandy.” He scoffs, rolling his eyes. 

“Yeah, right—” 

“—You see, Snow, I was just having a lovely discussion with my good friend—” I pause, tilting my head back to look at the centaur. “What’s your name again?” 

He puffs his chest out and grins (and by association knocks me forward with a small huff of air). “I am Nessus. But you can call me—” I wave a hand around lazily, cutting him off. 

“Yeah, thanks babe. A lovely discussion with my good friend Nessus about the importance of consent. Isn’t that right, Nessus?” I pat his chest a couple times with the back of my hand, smiling at Simon innocently. 

My smile grows more strained as the arm around my waist squeezes tighter still, crushing me. 

Simon leans his weight on one foot, putting a hand on his hip and smirking. Damn him. 

“Uh-huh. And… you don’t need any help?” 

“Nope.” I respond a little too fast, my voice noticeably more breathless than usual. In a ridiculously futile attempt to distract myself from the crushing of my rib cage, I rest my elbow on the giant arm around me, feigning nonchalance as I look at my nails. 

“No, no problems here. I’m great. Just continue on your wayyyOW MOTHERFUCKER—” Apparently, Nessus gets bored easily, because the arm that was slowly cutting the circulation off throughout my lower body tries to squish all of my organs into a little ball of painful mush inside of my rib cage. 

“I’m bored.” There it is. “We’re leaving now. Don’t think about following us, pretty boy.” I snort at Simon’s disgruntled expression.

“Pretty—? Nevermind. You’re not leaving with him.” Simon doesn’t allow Nessus a moment to respond before he’s throwing himself at us headfirst, swinging past me and looping an arm around the centaur’s neck. He yanks Nessus backwards and startles him enough to drop me. 

I fall into the shallow water and sputter, quickly resurfacing and coughing violently, hair completely covering my face. It’s deep enough that when I lean back it can cover my entire face (and, of course with my luck, I landed flat on my back) but it only reaches about halfway up my waist if I’m sitting up. 

A distant scream rips through the air and I reach up, parting the hair in front of my eyes to peek out at the scene before me just in time to watch Simon toss Nessus across the lake area like it’s nothing, not even breaking a sweat. Someone behind me whistles slowly.

“Damn, kid. Nice throw.” I freeze when I hear the startlingly familiar voice and immediately my entire body fills with chilling dread, making me shudder. You have got to be shitting me… 

“Fiona?” I twist around, eyes widening comically when I see Fiona perched on a rock by the edge of the lake, tapping her… hooves? She smirks down at me and winks, then looks back up at Simon, who’s slowly making his way back over seemingly in a daze. 

He stares down at his hands almost in disbelief, a giddy smile spreading across his face. He looks up at Fiona with childlike glee and bounces in place. 

“Did you see that! I just threw that guy! It was insane! Did you see it?” He whips back around to look back in the direction of Nessus’ crumpled form, sending a wave of water at my face in his excitement.

I choke on a mouthful of water again and shove my hair fully out of my face, running my hands through it as I cough. 

“Oh, shit. I’m sorry!” He twists back around, sending another splash towards me. I glare at him, wiping water off of my cheeks in an aggressive sideways swipe. 

“No problem,” I force through gritted teeth, silently seething as a droplet runs down the bridge of my nose. He winces, then thrusts a hand out towards me. 

I scowl as I take it, stumbling into him and slipping when he pulls me up because of course I do. 

Simon, the chivalrous asshole, just casually catches me before I can face-plant back into the water, then I’m being held bridal style in Simon Snow’s arms. 

Because of fucking course I am.

He stares at me for a moment before I pointedly clear my throat, tugging on the handful of fabric from his clothes I’d managed to cling to before I almost-fell. 

“Oh—Sorry, sorry!” He scrambles around for a second in a panic before stumbling over to a large rock by Fiona, lightly setting me down on the semi-dry surface. It’s… annoyingly thoughtful. Doesn’t mean I like him. Or forgive him. 

“...Thank you.” I begrudgingly say after a few seconds of silence, then start to wring out my hair. Simon nods enthusiastically, looking slightly lost. Good.

“No problem.” An awkward silence fills the air. Then a certain, infuriating voice cuts through it like she’s wielding Simon’s bloody sword. 

“WELLLLL THEN.” I roll my eyes and share an exasperated look with Simon before catching myself and turning away. “What’d’ya say we hop on good ol’ pegasus over there and get outta here, eh?” I see Simon nod in my peripheral before he freezes, turning to face me. 

“Uh, you can come with us, if you want?” I sniff, turning away from him and crossing one leg over the other. 

“I’m fine right here. I’ll be able to handle myself, Chosen One.” I pretend I don’t notice his full-body flinch away from me. He deserves this. He deserves this. He deserves th—

“I…” He pauses, then seemingly gathers his thoughts with a shake of his head. “Alright. Uh, bye, then.” 

I cross my arms tightly and listen for footsteps, then look over my shoulder expectantly when they never come. Simon stands exactly where he was a second ago, fidgeting and staring down at his feet. 

“Can I help you?” The question comes out harsher than I intended, and I have to force myself not to wince. Simon doesn’t bother trying to suppress his cringe. 

“I deserve that. And, and a lot worse. I just… I’m really sorry, for what it’s worth.” 

Oh, right. I almost forgot why I was mad at him for a second. 

I glare down at the shimmering water, tapping my fingers against my arm. “It’s not worth much at all, actually.” He nods once slowly then finally steps away. 

I wait until I don’t hear anything but running water in the lake before I let the tears fall. 

He deserves this.

He deserves this.

He deserves this.

Chapter Text

Simon

I’m in Hercules. 

That was my first thought when I woke up. 

My second was holy SHIT I’m in HERCULES.

I love this movie. Like, if I could pick one Disney movie to watch for the rest of my life, it would be Hercules. 

And yeah, I suppose I shouldn’t be this excited considering… well… everything that just happened in the last story. But come on! It’s HERCULES. I mean—It’s basically me, right?

A kid born with a ridiculous amount of power he doesn’t know how to control, unaware of his connection to a magical, unreal world. Finding a mentor (we don’t talk about that though) and trying to fit into the role prophesied since birth, basically. It’s me. 

This one’s always been my favorite because of that. It was easy to relate to, you know? Even after I started going to Watford, it was a massive part of my life. I used to pretend I was like Hercules, that I was destined for greatness, that because of fate, there was no way I could mess up badly enough for this magical life to be taken away from me. 

I looked up to the character throughout my entire childhood. I aspired to be just like him. He… he was my hero.

And now I get to play him. I’m so excited. 

HERCULESHERCULESHERCULESHERCULESHERCULESHERCUL—

“Kid. Kid. Stop with the fucking vibrating, it’s weird.” I try to still, twisting around on Pegasus (PEGASUS!) to beam at Fiona. I was a bit surprised when I found out she was playing Phil, but it’s weirdly fitting. 

That isn’t to say she doesn’t terrify me, but it’s hard to take her seriously when she’s half goat. I’ve spent more than enough time around Ebb, so horns and hooves strike no fear into my heart. She glares at me (she looks exactly like Baz when she does it—it’s creepy) and rolls her eyes. 

“Look, I know you’re excited and all for… whatever it is we’re doing right now… but Jesus Christ kid, you need to calm down.” I huff. For a moment I had forgotten how genuinely irritating Pitches can be when they put their minds to it. (Or maybe it’s just their default.)

“Sorry,” I shrug sheepishly. “I’m just really really excited for this story, I guess.” Fiona snorts, crossing her legs. She’s situated on the back end of Pegasus, seated like it’s a bench and not the back of a flying horse. 

“No, really?” I shake my head, turning back to stare at the ground below us. If the story is following the same sort of ideas as the previous two (have we only gone through two stories?) then I should be searching for Baz right now. Hopefully the centaur doesn’t get too rough with him before we get there. 

I woke up on Pegasus mid-flight (which was a horrifying experience I’d rather never repeat), so I didn’t have much time to plan how I was going to approach him. I know in the story we’re supposed to meet by having me save him from Nessus, but I don’t know what he’s going to do after the whole Aladdin-thing. 

Yikes. Yeah, let’s not think about that right now. 

“Let me go!” I perk up when I hear Baz’s voice carry up into the air. 

“Down there! Let’s go.” Pegasus dives towards the ground with no warning and Fiona screams, digging her nails into the thin fabric of my clothes. We land unsteadily and I hop off, sprinting towards the exact spot they should be. 

And… BINGO.

“Halt!” Baz bristles, obviously pissed at something. Probably me… 

He grits his teeth and groans, throwing his head back like the dramatic asshole he is. Only now it doesn’t seem as cocky as it usually did. Less “I’m better than you” energy, I think.

And if that’s not a sentence I never thought I’d associate with Baz. 

“Step aside, two legs!” ...Wow. That line was somehow more lame in person. Baz tilts his head back, aiming a downright disgusted look at Nessus. I shake my head. 

“I, uh. I’m gonna have to ask you to let… uhm.” Wait, that line won’t work. There’s no way Baz would let me call him a damsel. “Release your captive there.” Nice save, Simon. A+ work. 

Baz is clearly unimpressed, if the judgmental feeling slowly consuming my soul and his deadpan stare is anything to go by. 

“Eloquent as ever, Snow,” Dammit! I thought it was good! Wait, Snow? “But I’m afraid you’ve wasted your charm—” HA! I’m charming! “Because I’m perfectly fine. Move along.” He clearly shoos me away but I stay put, hesitating. 

On the one hand, I really don’t want to make him more mad at me than he already is. But two, this is following the plot of the story, and I don’t have that level of trust with Nessus to leave him alone with my… whatever Baz is… and trust that he won’t do anything sketchy or morally questionable. 

“You don’t look fine.” A bright smile crosses Baz’s face (clearly fake, still unnerving) and he kicks a leg out with sarcastic enthusiasm. It’s kind of hilarious. 

“No? That’s odd, because I feel just dandy.” I scoff and roll my eyes, still trying not to laugh at the mental image of Baz kicking his leg out while being held like a fucking doll in a child’s arms. 

“Yeah, right—” 

“—You see, Snow, I was just having a lovely discussion with my good friend—” He pauses, tilting his head back at Nessus. “What’s your name again?” I have to stifle a laugh with my hand. 

Nessus grins and Baz makes a disgruntled face. “I am Nessus. But you can call me—” Baz cuts him off with a detached wave of his hand.

“Yeah, thanks babe.” Babe? “A lovely discussion with my good friend Nessus about the importance of consent. Isn’t that right, Nessus?” He pats his chest a couple times, smiling that fake, innocent smile again. It’s just as unnerving as the first time. 

I’m still hung up on the “babe” thing. I don’t know why. 

Nessus visibly tightens his arms around Baz, who’s smile grows much more strained. 

I lean my weight on one leg, putting a hand on my hip and smirking. Okay. Two can play at this game. 

“Uh-huh. And… you don’t need any help?” 

“Nope.” A spike of genuine worry flashes through me for a moment when his voice comes out breathless but it passes quickly when he… starts looking at his nails? Is—Is he serious right now?

“No, no problems here. I’m great.” Clearly. “Just continue on your wayyyOW MOTHER FUCKER—” Nessus (poor guy needs one of those stress balls) absolutely crushes Baz against him. I wince at the cry of pain drawn out of him. 

“I’m bored.” I- “We’re leaving now. Don’t think about following us, pretty boy.” I wrinkle my nose. What the—

“Pretty—? Never mind. You’re not leaving with him.” I sprint forward, not even remotely struggling through the water. That’s normal. Totally.

My arms wrap around his neck and I throw all of my body weight backwards, flipping Nessus over me. The second he emerges from the shallow water I grab his beard and spin in circles, building up momentum. Holy shit, I’m so strong here. This is so cool.

I grunt and throw him as far as I can, smiling when I see him vanish through the waterfall. I hear Fiona whistle behind me and say something, but the words don’t process. It’s like my powers are back, but actually manageable. This is going to be SO fun.

I bounce in place and twist around, beaming at Fiona. “Did you see that!” I can feel myself grinning madly, almost to the point of pain. Oh my god oh my god oh my god oh my god this is so cool— ”I just threw that guy! It was insane! Did you see it?” I turn around again to look at the place Nessus is curled up in the water. 

Strangled coughing distracts me from my adrenaline-induced high. Shit, Baz. 

I whip around, then wince when he chokes on another mouthful of water. “Oh shit. I’m sorry!” He glares at me and angrily wipes the water off of his face, clearly seething. Yikes… 

“No problem.” He practically forces the words through his teeth. I reach out a hand, then hesitate when he just stares at it. Is he going to take it? I wouldn’t want to, if I were him. I don’t know where we stand anymore. He seemed pretty upset (understandably) in Aladdin…

My worries are cut short when he reaches for my hand, pulling himself up. Unexpectedly, he slips and starts heading right towards the water again. Without a second thought I reach out and scoop him up into my arms, pausing to marvel at how light he is. Is this a part of the movie? Actually, when was the last time I saw him eat? He doesn’t touch his food in the dining hall. 

He clears his throat, giving me a pointed look. Oh. Right. Still holding him.

“Oh! Sorry, sorry!” I look around frantically, then smile when I see the rock by the water. When I reach it I carefully set him down, trying to be as gentle as possible. After all, it’s sort of my fault he’s in this whole scenario, I should at least try to be accommodating. 

“...Thank you.” He gives me an odd look as he wrings the water out of his hair, like he’s somewhat surprised but trying to hide it poorly. 

“Uh—No problem.” He nods, then we fall into silence. I scratch at my ankle with my other foot, looking around aimlessly. 

Welp. This is awkward. 

“WELLL THEN!” Fiona shouts, making me jump. I watch Baz flinch violently—almost enough to fall off of the rock—before he catches himself. Then he glares at her, looking more annoyed than I think I’ve ever seen him. Actually, that’s a huge lie. I’ve DEFINITELY seen him more annoyed. Usually at me. 

“What’d’ya say we hop on good ol’ Pegasus over there and get outta here, eh?” Fiona seems completely unaware of the uncomfortable energy around us. Or maybe she does notice, but doesn’t care enough to do anything about it.  

I find myself nodding before I see Baz tense in my peripheral. I turn back to him, suddenly awkward again. 

“Uh,” Great start, Simon. So eloquent. “You can come with us, if you want?” He crosses his legs and looks away, turning his nose up at me. Okay. Wow. Fuck you too. 

...Wait no. No, I deserve this. His anger is warranted. I have no right to be upset. Fuck. This is my fault. This is weird.

“I’m fine right here. I’ll be able to handle myself, Chosen One.” I flinch back. It’s been a while since he called me… that. Almost forgot how much it hurts. Ha, of course he wouldn’t let me forget. That’s Baz. Lowest blow, right?

I gather myself and try to speak, but no sound comes out. I clear my throat and try again. 

“I…” You what? What are you even trying to say right now? I shake my head. “Alright. Uh. Bye, then.” Baz crosses his arms, his entire figure looking almost painfully tense. I don’t move for a few seconds, too caught up in staring at him. Because that’s not creepy.

“Can I help you?” he snaps. I wince, watching his face twitch (probably irritably). 

“I deserve that. And, and a lot worse. I just… I’m really sorry, for what it’s worth.” Baz turns to me for a second, something flashing in his eyes, before he shakes his head and looks down. His hair falls into his eyes and I feel the random, impulsive urge to move it away. Get it together, Simon. I clench my hands tightly together in front of me. 

His fingers start tapping his arm impatiently. “It’s not worth much at all, actually.” Ouch. Okay, I deserved that.

I nod once, then step away. As Fiona and I mount Pegasus, I blink back frustrated tears. 

You have no right. No right to be upset, no right to be emotional. This is your fault, own up to it. 

You deserve this.

Penny

Well, this couldn’t possibly be going better!

Okay, it probably could. I know something went down towards the end of Aladdin, but without any audio it was near impossible to understand exactly what happened. 

I think I got the main gist of it, what with the Mage and his dramatic reveal, the betrayal, etc etc. I may have cried a bit. 

Agatha still refuses to drop it, but now she’s just being weirdly passive aggressive in hopes that unrelenting sass will make me talk. She’d make a great detective, because it’s actually working. Not in the way she wants, no. Never. 

It’s just that every single day as she glides past our usual table in the dining hall (she hasn’t been taking meals there since the second day after Simon and Baz ‘vanished’) and sighs something like “Gee, I wish someone knew where my boyfriend was right now.” and “Huh, it’s been a while since I last saw Baz tormenting Simon. I almost miss it, sigh.” (yes. she says sigh. out loud.) she’s also unwittingly dwindling down on my already-fragile will to live. 

Managing the spell and trying to work out a way to give me access to the audio through the mirror without interfering with the story while simultaneously blackmailing an entire class into silence so as to avoid an issue with Agatha and somehow keeping up the pretense that everything is perfectly fine, why do you ask? is EXHAUSTING. 

Not to mention that I’m going through the seemingly ever-present crisis of “I spent eight years of my life listening to Simon’s never-ending rants about Baz’s fucking hair and fit body and bloody shampoo, eight years of putting up with Baz’s nonstop animosity towards Simon, only to just now put together what was actually happening this entire time."

My entire childhood was for fucking nothing. I can imagine Dev and Niall would be feeling the same if they knew exactly what was happening. But alas, the only thing my class knows is that something started dragging Simon and Baz towards each other until they fell through solid stone and they’ve been missing for nearly four days. 

This is fine. 

“I wish I could inquire with someone holding a clandestine knowledge of the whereabouts relating to my boyfriend and his archenemy, but alas, sigh.” Oh right. Did I mention she’s starting to sound slightly Shakespearean? Yeah, that’s a thing now.

I slam the book I was reading closed (Magickal Properties: A History. Definitely recommend) and drop it onto the table, glaring up at her through my glasses. 

“FINE. You want answers?” She practically collapses in relief, dropping onto the bench across from me. 

“Yes. Merlin, finally. I thought I wasn’t being obvious enough.” 

I hate her. 

I love her, but I hate her so much. How can she possibly look genuine when saying that, as if she wasn’t moments away from posting lost posters around the school. As if I haven’t spent the past few days working my fucking ass off to keep all of this under wraps—in mostly legal ways. 

Hey, it’s been a rough week! You have no room to judge.

“Penny? Peeeeeennyyyyyyy.” Agatha waves a hand in front of my face. “Hellooooooooo—” I swat her hand away. 

“Stop that.” She frowns, squinting just over my shoulder before meeting my eyes.

“You were glaring at me, like completely zoned out. It was creepy.” I roll my eyes. “OH!” She perks up, slamming her hands on the table. “You owe me an explanation. Make it a good one.” I huff, crossing my arms across my chest. 

“Fine. Simon and Baz are… indisposed at the moment at an undisclosed location.” Agatha pauses, then groans loudly, attracting the attention of the tables around us. 

“Penny,” she gripes, pouting. “You know exactly how not-useful that is.” 

“The word you’re looking for is useless—” She cuts off my mumble with an emphatic point directly at my face. I wrinkle my nose.

“Exactly what I’m talking about! Just tell me where! I know you know where they are.” 

I sigh. “Okay. Okay, fine. I kind of know where they are.” Agatha brightens, but slumps when she processes the end of my sentence.

“‘Kind of?’” I nod, absently opening the cover of book, just to have something to look at besides Agatha.

“Mhm. They’re doing something for my spell in Posibelf’s class, so they’re sorta out of commission until the spell testing is over.” Agatha gapes at me.

“How did you manage to get Baz to consent to testing your spell? And with Simon—”

“I didn’t.” My voice is quiet, but she immediately snaps her mouth shut. 

“What?” she hisses, leaning over the table. I stare at the cover of my book intently. 

“It sort of… was a spontaneous little backfire in the spell. But it’s all fine! Everything is going as it was supposed to, but now… Baz is there as well.” I shrug, then frown when I’m reminded of Simon. I miss him. 

It’s weird, I’ve been practically stalking him nonstop for the past four days, yet the mere action of shrugging sends me spiraling into a lonely little depressive episode. That’s probably normal. 

“And what does Posibelf think about all of this?” Agatha seems a little more calm now, and the neighbouring tables have stopped openly staring. Progress.

“She actually didn’t mind. Said it might be a chance for them to finally get along.” I’m completely bullshitting my way through this by now. Either way, Agatha nods along like this explanation makes perfect sense.

What she doesn’t know can’t hurt her, and right now I think it would be a very bad idea to tell her I’ve been watching her “boyfriend” make out with the guy I’m about 60% sure she likes more than said boyfriend. 

Crowley, this is confusing.

“I highly doubt they’re even remotely getting along right now. Or ever.” Who’s gonna tell her? She pauses, clearly contemplating something. “Wait. How have you been keeping track of them? Is that what your mirror thing was for?” 

I freeze. Shit. I was hoping she’d forgotten about that. “Uh—” 

“I knew it! C’mon, show me. I wanna see them.” She leans even farther over the table, practically off of her seat. 

“I don’t know if that’s a good idea…” I’m being honest now. For all I know, they’ve resolved their issues already (however unlikely that is) and they’ve skipped right to the typical greek mythology customs of being extremely homosexual. That… would be very difficult to explain to Agatha. 

“Oh, come on. They can’t be that bad. Show me.” I wince, then give in and reach into my pocket. Agatha follows the movement, her face brightening. 

“Hey, did you spell those into your skirts?” I nod hesitantly, placing the mirror face-down on the dining table. She doesn’t seem to notice, just drops fully back into her own seat again and looks down at her own (pocket-less. Ha.) skirt. “Could you maybe show me how to do that? Or do it for me?” I huff out a laugh, shaking my head. 

“I can teach you how. It’s not that complicated.” She hums, then her eyes drop to the mirror. Dammit. 

“Let’s take a look, shall we?” She grins and stares expectantly at me, interlocking her fingers and resting her chin on them. I sigh again (i’ve been doing that a LOT lately) and slide the mirror between us, flipping it. 

I squeeze my eyes shut and brace myself for the worst. When nothing catastrophic happens immediately I peek at Agatha’s face. She’s staring intently at the mirror with some sort of odd expression. It’s slightly sad, a little relieved. But there’s also something else. It looks like… dread? No, that’s not right. It’s… It’s almost… ambivalent? Is that the word? I don’t know. I can’t explain it. 

I look down at the mirror and get a short glimpse of Simon grinning at something, looking positively giddy. At least Baz is nowhere to be seen. Not good for my experiment, but I don’t have to try to lie again. 

Agatha still hasn’t looked away from the mirror. 

“...Agatha?” She shakes her head, then smiles again, the expression almost completely wiped from her face. The only proof of it ever having crossed was the slight tension between her eyebrows. 

“Uh—” She laughs quietly to herself, blinking a few times. “Huh. That’s… That’s something. So they’ve been in there the whole time?” I nod, watching her play with her hair. Maybe this is actually taking more of a toll on her than I originally thought… 

“Yeah. Hey, if you ever need to talk—” She stands abruptly, swinging her bag over her shoulder and laughing frantically. Wh—

“Well, looks like I have to go! Sorry for cutting our chat so short but I have… class! Yeah! I have a class. You’ll have to teach me the pocket thing later, bye!” She practically bolts out of the dining hall, leaving behind a short lull in the room before everyone shrugs and continues on with their meals. 

I squint at the doors. Strange. 

“What’d you do to scare her away?” A sarcastic voice drawls before Dev sits down in Agatha’s seat, Niall following shortly after. Great. 

I wrinkle my nose. 

“Can I help you two?” Dev leans back casually, running a hand through his hair. He smirks slightly. 

“A little bird told me it was your fault Baz has gone missing. Just thought we’d fact check. You understand, right?” I cross my arms, glaring at him. Ugh. I almost forgot how much of an asshole he is. 

“Well, your bird must need hearing aids because, in case you haven’t noticed, my friend is also missing.” I push my glasses up and open my book to a random page, obviously done with the conversation. They don’t move at the clear dismissal. 

“Okay, but you see…” A tan hand reaches across the table and closes my book. I scowl, following the arm up to a much more serious face. “It’s been four days and after the mess from earlier this year, you can understand why we’d be a bit…” He trails off. 

“Interested?” Niall suggests. Dev nods, sending him a small, almost unnoticeable yet grateful smile. I tilt my head to the side, silently observing the interaction. 

“That’s the word.” He turns back to me, stony expression back in place. “So we thought we’d stop by and have a little talk.” I bite my lip, thinking hard. How much do I want to give away? Should I tell them as much as I did Agatha? Would that be wrong? Baz is their best friend...

Before I can decide what to do Niall picks up the mirror, squinting at it. I reach forward immediately, trying to snatch it back. No no no— 

He just casually leans back out of reach (curse upper body strength), waiting until I drop back into my seat before he rights himself. 

“What’s this?” Dev asks, leaning over Niall’s shoulder to look at it. His eyes widen at whatever he sees on there and I glare as hard as I can, trying to hide the panic bubbling up inside of me. 

“It’s… Baz. And, and Snow?” I roll my eyes. Even they call him Snow? This is absolutely ridiculous. Wait, they're both visible in the mirror now??

“Give that back.” I make my voice as forceful as possible, trying to channel my inner Mitali Bunce. They glance up at me before turning back to the mirror, eyes glued to whatever scene is playing out in front of them. 

I reach over, at least just to tip it down so I can see the glass as well, but Niall lifts it above his head and Dev tuts at me. Ugh. What pests. 

I roll my eyes and impatiently hold a hand out. They look at me for a moment before relenting and dropping it into my palm. I lay it flat on the table between us and nearly cry in frustration at what’s reflecting back at us. 

Of course. Of course they chose this exact moment to… what is it they’re even doing? 

Baz is in Simon’s arms, full bridal style, and they’re just… staring at each other. Okay, fuck you two. 

I look up and cringe when I see the twin eyebrow raises across from me. They must have learned that from Baz. Maybe they all took lessons together when they were kids.

“It’s… uh. A…” I stall, then internally prepare for a very awkward silence when I think of some sort of excuse. “It’s… fanfiction?" Okay. Sure. "It’s a new, uh, a new style recently created in the magickal community, based off of Normal fanfic. Yeah.” God I hope they don’t try to fact check that later. I have no idea if it’s true; I’m just pulling shit out of my ass at this point. 

Oh, there’s the silence.

“It’s… what?” At the very least, nothing will be funnier than Dev’s face after that. 

“Oh, I’ve heard of that,” Niall says quietly, almost to himself. He’s looking at the mirror with mild curiosity. Well goddamn.

I change my mind. Nothing will be funnier than Dev’s face after that. 

He whips his head to the side to gawk at Niall. 

“You have?” Niall blushes bright red, avoiding his eyes. 

“Yeah? I guess?” He shrugs, and I’m hit with a sharp pain in my chest. I miss Simon. 

Instead of teasing his friend like I’d half expected, Dev just sort of nods with a small “huh” and looks down at the mirror too. We all watch Simon put Baz on some rock and awkwardly try to interact with him as Baz clearly ignores him. Niall huffs out a quiet laugh through his nose and Dev nudges him, a small smile pulling at the corners of his lips. 

“It’s exactly the same as it is in real life, just at some random island-looking place. How’s this fan… fanfiction?” Dev asks, looking surprisingly genuine as he moves his attention away from the mirror. Niall keeps watching whatever scene is playing out, looking deeply immersed even without any context or dialogue.

I scramble for some sort of reasonable response. Think, think. Anything.

 “Uh... Slowburn, enemies to lovers?” 

Dear. God. Aleister fucking Crowley. Someone smite me. Kill me. Do it. Erase my existence. 

I did not just fucking explain my best friend and his bloody enemy’s relationship with a fucking fanfiction trope. To said enemies’ two best friends. 

Fuck my life.

They both stare at me for a solid minute while I try to hide the fact that I’m genuinely dying a little inside with each passing second of silence. Just let me rest. Please. 

I consider making a run for it before I humiliate myself further, but then they share a very obvious look. I watch them as they seem to have some sort of silent discussion before Niall shrugs and Dev nods seriously. They both turn to face me at the exact same time. 

“Bunce—” Ugh, they call me Bunce too. “—What we’re about to do cannot leave this table.” I raise an eyebrow. What are they on about now? 

They share another look before Niall shrugs again and Dev reaches into a pocket seemingly sewn into the inside of his uniform blazer. Huh, guess I’m not the only one who thought of that. 

His hand emerges from the pocket holding a small slip of paper, slightly wrinkled but still clearly some sort of card. Oh, Merlin. What am I getting myself into? Is this some sort of cult? 

I slowly reach out to take the card. Dev gives me a weird, knowing look and Niall bites his lip, watching my reaction closely. I make sure I look as skeptical as I feel.

“Think about it.” With that vague statement, they both stand and walk away, right out of the dining hall. And there they go… 

I flip over the card and scan it quickly, then bite my tongue to suppress an incredulous laugh.

“Operation: SNOWBAZ - Meetings every other Thursday in Rhys’ room.”

You’ve got to be shitting me.

Chapter Text

Simon

If Fiona doesn’t stop talking in the next three seconds I might legitimately just jump off of Pegasus’ back. I’ll do it. 

“-ey! Are you even listening to me?” I sigh, rolling my eyes. 

“You were saying something about stopping in Thebes to find crime.” I literally only remember that from my obsession with the movie, so honestly I’m just going off of my memory here and hoping she wasn’t ranting about another one of her Normal exes. 

Again. 

“Good, you were listening.” There it is. “I’m pretty sure we’re gonna be landing in a few minutes, so prepare for ultimate bloodshed, kid.” I’m glad I’m facing away from her, because I’m pretty sure my annoyance is very clear on my face. 

“Uh-huh.” She pokes my back. She keeps doing that whenever she wants to say something. 

“Oh, and if we see Basil make sure you don’t freeze again. That shit at the lake was painful. And I was just watching!” I inhale deeply. Just a little longer. A few minutes, then I can get off of this fucking horse. 

“Yep.” My voice is completely deadpan. She pokes me in the back again. Hard. I wouldn’t be surprised if her long nails started leaving marks. 

“Did I detect sarcasm, ya little shit?” I shake my head, more to show my frustration than disagree. 

“Why would I ever be remotely sarcastic towards you, Fiona?” She leans into my line of sight slowly, squinting at me. 

“Now I seriously can’t tell if you’re being genuine and it’s tripping me up.” I shake my head again. 

“It doesn’t matter.” She opens her mouth to speak. “Oh look, we’re here!” I cut her off with a cheerful tone and hop off of Pegasus before he even lands fully, glad to finally put some distance between myself and Fiona. 

“Now, hold on. We still need to go over the plan, brat.” I groan, slumping forward and drag my feet as I walk back over to them.

Not pouting, stop looking at me like that.

“Fine, then. What’s the plan?” 

She pauses, then purses her lips and squints up at the sky. “Ah, never mind. I forgot.” She waves her hands and moves past me, stepping into the crowd. Oh for fuck’s— 

I do my best to follow through the crowd, keeping an eye out for familiar faces. I know Baz isn’t supposed to come in until a bit later, but the plot’s already been a little wonky in the past few stories so we can’t be too sure.

A carriage flies down the road, nearly hitting Fiona in its wake. The driver twists their head around as she screams expletives at them and flips her off. I grab her shoulders and steer her away, hurrying us across the busy street. 

“Hey, Mack.” I look up and immediately shield my eyes as… is that fucking Dev?... opens his large coat. 

“WOAH WOAH WOAH!” Fiona reaches up and tries her best to cover my eyes without turning around and, ya know, looking at my face (which. come on. really? covering my eyes? am I twelve?) but only manages to smack my cheek since I’m already looking away. 

“You wanna buy a sundial?” Dev asks, his voice almost comically suspicious. 

“NOT interested.” She starts walking, then turns around and grabs my wrist, dragging me down to follow clumsily at the weird angle. “And we’re moving, and we’re moving—” I sigh. 

“That’s it! I’m movin’ to Sparta!” I perk up and start moving toward the voice, knowing that this is where I’m supposed to jump in. 

Me. I get to jump in. As Hercules. Holy shit. 

“Excuse me. It, uh,” I clear my throat when the people seated at the small fountain all turn to stare at me with blank faces. “...seems to me that what you folks need... is a hero.” Fiona, watching from a few feet back, mutters a quiet “ouch” and I subtly flip her off behind my back, a pleasant smile on my face. 

“Yeah,” the owner of the original voice said, an old man with a skeptical tone. “Who are you?” I stand taller. 

“I’m He—Simon. Simon. I’m uh, I’m a hero.” ‘Nice one, idiot,’ says the inner Baz-like voice that only seems to show up when I’m being a dumbass. Typical . ‘Go ahead, mess up your own fucking name.’ Everyone around the fountain starts laughing. 

“Dear god. This is painful.” I grit my teeth at Fiona’s laughter-filled whisper. 

“Shut up,” I hiss. A barely muffled cackle follows. 

“A hero!” One of them jokingly swoons. 

“Is that so?” Another asks. 

“How many towns have you saved?” With my life as it is? You have no idea.

“Uh. None.” 

“Ever reversed a natural disaster?” 

I don’t have to lie on this one, at least. “Well. Um, no. But—” 

“Oh, listen to this. He’s just another chariot chaser. Just what we need.”

“That’s a laugh.” 

“Hey pea-brains!” I frown, turning to look at Fiona. She stomps over (it’s really loud with the hooves. I have to stifle a laugh.) and crosses her arms, glaring at the citizens. 

“This kid has done more in his life than any of you ever will. Don’t you get it? He’s a genuine article!” 

WOW, is it weird to listen to Fiona of all people compliment me. Even scripted.

“Hey, aren’t you the goat woman who trained Achilles?” I perk up. Achilles? 

Fiona takes a menacing step forward, but the man seems unfazed. “Hey, watch it—”

The strongest-looking of them all grins at her. “Hey, yeah! Nice job with the heel, by the way. Ya missed a spot!” I physically flinch backwards at that. 

I was literally just reading The Song of Achilles in Aladdin and the ending broke me, so having someone joke about one of the greatest tragedies I’ve ever read is actually such an asshole thing to do I might just have to show him where Apollo doesn’t fucking shine.

Fiona must feel similarly (maybe she just finished the book as well) because she storms over to the man and starts smacking him, spitting out impressive curses the entire time. For the second time I have to drag her away (if I let her get a few good hits in, nobody has to know but me). 

“AND YOU CAN ALL KISS MY FUR-COVERED—” 

“OKAAAAY. Time to go. It’s been nice talking to you all!” I flip Fiona over my shoulder and try to ignore the screeching as I rush us out of there. 

As soon as the group is out of sight I put her down. She huffs, stomping a hoof and crossing her arms. 

“Was that really necessary?” She grumbles, blowing a loose strand of hair out of her face. I raise my eyebrows. 

“Were you really going to leave without me dragging you away again?” 

She shrugs. “Touche.” 

“Help! Anyone, please! I need help! Simon!” 

I pause, turning towards the familiar voice. Baz appears in the crowd, spinning rapidly in circles as he looks for… me? His eyes meet mine across the busy street and he slumps in relief before running over. I push forward past the large group of people and grab his shoulders as soon as he’s close enough, trying to steady him. 

“Thank fucking Merlin.” He gasps, tipping forward. I hurry to shift my hands to his elbows, holding him up. He grips my arms tightly and looks at me with clear terror. 

“Hey, hey. It’s okay! Tell me what’s wrong.” I make my voice as steady as possible. He nods, then glances over his shoulder frantically. I know he’s going to talk about the two kids and the rock slide, so I just have to calm him down enough to be able to form the words. 

“It’s-it’s the twins. Please,” he practically whimpers, still looking back at… something. Meanwhile, I’m completely frozen. 

“The… the what?” What? His… siblings? This didn’t happen in the movie? Well obviously, but—

Baz turns back to me and tears fill his eyes. Shit. Baz doesn’t cry. He doesn’t lose his composure. He just doesn’t. I have no idea what to do. 

I hold him tighter. “Baz, what do you mean? What about the twins?” 

“They—There was a rock slide, and they’re stuck. I can’t—I can’t get them out, and they’re trapped, and I don’t know what to do.” He’s full-on sobbing now and I feel my heart ache at the sight. How could I have ever seen him as evil?

“Hey, it’s okay.” I try to soothe him, cupping his cheek with my hand. He shakes his head madly, hair flying around. I take hold of his shoulder with my other hand and shake him lightly, finally getting him to look at me. “Baz. Listen to me. This is just a part of the spell. It’s not actually your siblings in the rock slide.” 

“No, no you don’t understand. They were screaming, and—and crying for me, and I couldn’t help. I couldn’t—” He breaks down, covering his face with his hands. I pull his hands away and bump our foreheads together.

“Baz. Listen to me.” He takes a small, choked breath, but goes quiet and loosens his grip on my arms, shaking. “This is probably the spell just trying to mess with you. Your siblings aren’t supposed to be here—” As soon as the words leave my mouth he jerks away, a mad look in his eyes as he pulls at his hair. Wh—

“Neither am I!” He shrieks, his voice nearly hysteric. I just stare, completely dumbfounded at his outburst. “I wasn’t supposed to be in this stupid spell with your stupid face and these stupid fairy tales. Bunce’s hologram even fucking said that! So why the fuck should I believe you when you say those aren’t actually my little siblings about to fucking die? Huh, Snow?” Oh. Oh shit. He gets right up in my face and I’m struck with the ridiculous urge to lean closer, but I shove the thought away immediately, not even entertaining the idea. Focus, Simon.

“I…” I have no idea what to say. Think. Say something. Anything. Literally anything is better than the silence you’ve created now that he expects you to speak. “It’s probably nothing.” Sure, that’s what we’re going with. Baz’s gaze sharpens (is it weird that it was sort of comforting for a second, seeing him show some sort of hatred towards me?) and he steps away, crossing his arms tightly over his chest, looking downright pissed.  “...I’m sure it’s just the spell trying to spook us or something.”  He presses his lips together and nods, the manic look back in his eyes. “Yep. Sure. Then explain why the fuck this—” He shoves something at me (a… piece of paper?) and returns to his closed off position, arms fixed tight across his chest once again. “—appeared in my hand when the rocks fell.” He steps back and gestures to the paper, expression both furious and anxious.

I carefully unfold it, then feel my eyes widen as I read the single line in the center. 

There’s only one rule in this spell; I highly advise you to abide by it. 

I look up at Baz and he nods shakily, looking more uneasy by the minute. 

“One rule? What—” I pause, then it clicks. 

“Absolutely do not change the plot,” we both whisper together. Oh shit. 

“You went completely off-script last time in Aladdin with… everything,” he stiffly glosses over the mess that happened previously, something I’m grateful for at the moment. Although we should probably have a Talk about that some time… “And I didn’t do much better towards the end at all, really. So this must be the spell… threatening us?” He blows out a huge breath, running his hands through his hair. Mood. 

He laughs slightly hysterically, shaking his head. “That is… sort of terrifying, when you really think about it.” I smile nervously, glancing away for a second. 

“Yeah…” We make eye contact for a second as the gravity of this genuinely nightmarish situation hits us full-force. Baz takes an unsteady breath and holds his hand out between us. I squint at him, but his face is unreadable, even to me. 

“What are you—”

“I am willing to offer a… truce of sorts. I haven’t fully forgiven you for everything yet, but right now I need you, and I’m pretty sure this—” He gestures to the note still clutched in my hands. “—is basically a warning directed towards both of us. We don’t have another choice but to work together.” I immediately take his hand, ignoring the small shock of electricity that shoots up my arm at the touch. Yet. He said yet!

“Yeah, uh. Truce.” We watch each other for a moment before a large crash coming from the area where the rock slide shakes us both out of our weird daze. The panic returns to Baz’s face immediately and he pitches (ha pitch) forward, clinging to the front of my Grecian-looking outfit. 

“Please, I don’t even care if they aren’t really them anymore, I can’t even watch copies of my siblings die. Surely you’d understand how awful that would be,” he begs, already dragging me towards the wreckage. “Simon, please, just-just help me. Just this once. I won’t ever ask for anything again if that’s what it takes, just help them.” I frown, pulling us to a stop for a second. His breath hitches and he looks deep into my eyes, clearly terrified. 

“Hey, breathe.” He takes a big breath and I nod, smiling encouragingly. “You got it. Deep breaths. I’ll get them out, promise.” He nearly collapses in relief but I brace him again. 

“Thank you.” A thought comes to me before I can respond and I freeze, the smile slipping off of my face. 

“Wait. Baz,” I ask, my voice shaking slightly. He looks up at me, immediately tensing at whatever look is on my face right now. 

“Yes?” 

“Are you working with the Mage right now?” He immediately scowls, shoving himself back. 

“Typical,” he snarls, immediately closing off. “Of course that’s what you’d immediately assume.  I’d never work with him. Which you’d think anyone with common sense would understand. Oh!” He tilts his head and smiles with mock brightness. “You don’t! Clearly! Why do I even bother?” He throws his arms out, then lets them fall to his sides, giving me the most disappointed look. I feel like a child whenever he looks at me like that. Like a child getting lectured by his mum (not that I know what that’s like). I step forward but he matches it with a step back. 

“Baz, wait—”

“No, no. You’ve said more than enough, Snow.” I flinch, then shake my head and push forward, grabbing his shoulders to keep him from storming away. He stares up at me with wide eyes and I force myself to look as determined as possible. 

“No, listen to me. The plot of Hercules has Meg—that’s you, by the way—working with Hades, who is the villain of the story. If the note really is a warning and we have to follow the plot, we’re already off to a terrible start.” I study his reaction warily. A few emotions cross his face, the most prominent being confusion. 

“But… Who the hell is Hercules?” I sputter, staring at him incredulously. Is- is he serious right now?

“Wha-How do you not know Hercules? The Greek hero? You know, the main character of the story we’re in right now?” He rolls his eyes. 

“The Greek hero is Heracles, not Hercules. And besides, I’ve never seen the movie. Didn’t bother when I found out they titled it Hercules. You know, not the name of the Greek hero you seem to love so much? ” I stare at him for a moment because yeah, I know that, but still. How dare. 

“...Anyways.” His lips quirk up into a small smirk as I change the topic, clearly a sign of defeat in his eyes. “Your character sold her soul to Hades for something irrelevant to our main focus right now, and doing his bidding is what brings her closer to getting her soul back. Then she meets Hercules and… uh.” I clear my throat and look away, awkward. 

“They fall madly in love, go through some sort of traumatic event that probably ends in one of them dying because Hades seems to play a big part and the context clues are all right there, the other saves whoever died, then yay happy ending. Am I correct?” He raises an unimpressed eyebrow as I stare at him, awed. 

“You’re sure you’ve never seen the movie?” He scoffs, crossing his arms. 

“No, I have not. It’s just very… predictable.” I pout, looking away from him. 

“Well, it’s my favorite, so fuck you,” I grumble under my breath. His eyes light with amusement. 

“What was that, Snow?” Shit.

“Uhh, I said ‘I guess you’re right, aren’t you?’” He smirks, looking way too smug. I think he heard me the first time…

“Come on. We need to go. I believe you promised me something.” He tries hide his desperation, I can tell, but I can also practically see the worry radiating off of him in waves.

“Right. Let’s go uh, save your siblings. This is gonna… rock.” WHY. WHY DID I SAY THAT.

“...That was awful.” There’s barely hidden laughter in his voice as we start off through the crowd. 

“Aw, I know you’re cracking up inside.”

“No.”

“Oh, I can dig up some more, if you really like them that much.” Baz gives me an unreadable look, then turns to face forward again. 

“...idiotsaywhat.” I blink at his fast-paced speech. 

“.. .What?” Baz bursts out in laughter and I swear I see some of the tension leave his shoulders.

“Nothing, Snow.” I jog to catch up to him.

“What’d you say?” 

“Nothing.”

“Baz.”

“...I do love hearing you gravel at my feet.” I stop abruptly, an astonished smile stuck on my face. Baz looks over his shoulder at me with a sly smirk. “Do hurry, Snow. We have places to be.” 

I shake my head, then hurry to catch up again, still smiling. 

“Right.”

Chapter Text

Baz

This… is going surprisingly well. 

I mean, don’t get me wrong—I’m still scared out of my goddamn mind. But now, there’s rock puns… Yeah. 

We fell into a half-comfortable silence a while ago, leaving me alone with my troubled thoughts. 

I can still hear the first scream. It was either Sophronia or Petra, and while not being able to tell them apart usually doesn’t bother me, somehow the realization really messed with me this time. (I can only separate them by their smiles typically.)

This spell must really be getting to me. Maybe I’m going mad. 

“Hey,” Simon says, nudging me softly. I turn to look at him, desperately trying to hide the repeat of ‘hurry hurry they could be dead hurry you’re too late faster faster move get to them they need you they need HELP—’ running through my head. Either Simon’s getting better at reading me (unlikely, a bloody rock would have a better time pointing out human emotion than him) or I’m more shaken up then I thought because his eyes are practically shining with worry. 

(‘BAZ HELP PLEASE HELP US PLEASE HURRY HELPHURRYPLEASEBAZSAVEUS—’) 

“Yes, Snow?” He nudges me again, then sticks to my side, keeping our arms connected. I almost immediately blush at the feeling of his warm skin and internally scold myself. Be a disaster gay some other time. Preferably literally any other time. You’re supposed to be a sophisticated gay, so GET. IT. TOGETHER.

“Stop worrying about it all. Everything’s going to be okay.” I snort, rolling my eyes. 

“Sure. Why didn’t I think of that?” He nudges me again. 

“I mean it. I’ll save them. I promise.” I look down at my feet to hide the bright blush covering my cheeks. God dammit, he needs to stop making declarations like that. It’s bad for my heart. 

“I know you… think you can. But…” He stops, grabbing my hands in his. I blink rather stupidly between our hands and his face. He gets a ridiculously somber glint in his eyes and I just want to lean closer, to kiss the grave look off of him. I probably would, if the voice in my head (which may or not be my conscious, haven’t figured that out quite yet) wasn’t mentally slapping me across the face.

BE. GAY. LATER.

“No buts. I’m serious,” he insists sincerely. I squeeze his hands. 

“Okay.” 

He nods. “Okay. Good.” Another crash sounds from the rock slide area, closer now, and I flinch closer to him. He doesn’t say anything (small mercies), just holds me for a brief second before pulling away and leading us towards the rock slide, pointedly not letting my hand go. 

We break through the large crowd surrounding the rock pile and I gasp, rushing forward. Once I’m close enough I drop to my knees and crawl forward to look inside the small crack underneath a large rock.  

“Sophie! Petra!” I cry out frantically. Two quiet whimpers reach my ears and I sob with both relief and dread, stretching a hand in the opening as far as it will go. A small hand, then another, clumsily grasp my fingers tightly. I use my free hand to wipe my face, bowing my head. “You’ll be okay, I promise. I love you both so much, you’re so brave.”

Simon appears behind me and carefully but quickly guides me away. I struggle at first but he’s much stronger than me here (being undead did have its perks sometimes) so it doesn’t take much effort for him to convince me to move. The second I’m out of the way of potential falling rocks he rushes back over to the girls.

I bite my lip and pick at my nails anxiously, shuffling as Simon carefully pulls some of the larger boulders off the mound. This goes on for some time, my fear somehow both increasing and relieving with every rock removed. 

“Baz, this should be the last one! Come over here so you can get them out when I hold the biggest piece up!” I’m at his side before he’s even finished talking, though I have no memory of moving. He blinks, then smiles quickly and turns to the slightly smaller pile, bracing his feet and crouching to pull up the ginormous boulder. 

As soon as I can see a head I drop and reach forward, scooping one of them up by the armpits and dragging her out before going back for the other. Besides me, Simon’s legs tremble from the strain put on them as he struggles. He grits his teeth and grunts, actually glowing for a second before the rocks visibly shift upwards and his stance becomes slightly more steady. 

Well, damn.

I pull the other twin out, making sure she doesn’t hit her head on the sharp edge of the rock above us, then put her down and rest a hand on Simon’s leg as I shuffle back and out of the way. 

“Simon,” I start, wiping tears out of my eyes. “Simon, you can let it go now. They’re safe.” He lets out a low growl and quickly pulls his fingers away, letting the rock crash to the ground. He drops to his knees besides us and pants, wiping sweat off of his forehead. 

I furrow my eyebrows and put a hand on his shoulder, meeting his tired eyes. 

“You alright?” He nods, still out of breath, then covers my hand with his own. 

“I’m—hah—I’m fine. Just, just. Yeah.” He waves vaguely and drops his head to his chest to take a few deep breaths. I hesitantly turn my attention to the twins.

“Are you two okay?” I cup a different cheek in both hands, looking between them for injuries. They shake their heads in sync, something they’ve been able to do since near-birth, oddly and creepily enough. 

“No, Baz.” 

“We’re okay, Baz.” 

I slump in relief and pull them into my chest for a second, holding them as close as I dare. Two pairs of hands cling to my clothes and I drop my nose to their heads, whispering reassurances to whoever needs to hear it. (Spoiler alert: it’s me. I’m the one who needs it. A lot.) 

I release them and they step away, reaching for each other’s hands. 

Simon stares at them, a vaguely horrified expression on his face. I give him a confused look.

“What?” 

He continues to stare, still clearly spooked. “They—You can’t tell me you DON’T notice?” I squint at him, completely lost. Notice what? Are they hurt? Did I not notice some sort of injury? 

“Notice what?” He manages to tear his eyes away from the twins, who had taken to blinking slowly at him, still in sync. 

“They sound exactly like those fuckin,’ uh,” he snaps his fingers a few times. “SHINING. They sound like those twins from The Shining.” 

My mind completely stops all functional thought for a second. What the hell? 

“I-I don’t—” I stammer, at a loss for words. How does someone respond to that? Knowing my family, I should probably take that as a compliment or flattery or something. But… still. 

What do you say when your crush of three+ years tells you your siblings resemble horror movie characters? 

Seriously, I’m asking. I have no idea.

“I’m not kidding! They even act like them! Look!” We both turn to look at the twins, who stare at Simon with wide eyes and smile (oh— that one’s Sophie). Petra tilts her head to the side and reaches a shaking hand forward, making direct eye contact with Simon. 

“Come play with us,” she whispers, and honestly, neither of us should be shocked that she somehow knew a line from The Shining, yet Simon visibly shudders and even I’m a tad bit unnerved (mostly because I have no idea what kind of parent would let their four year old watch a fucking horror film.) (Except for my father, apparently.)

(...never mind, I’m not surprised.)

I tip my head forward slightly, conceding. “I guess I can see it.”

They both turn to face me and beam, dark, tangled hair floating around their heads. A wave of affection hits me (as it does every time they’re even remotely happy) and I pull them to my chest again, the adrenaline finally bleeding out of my mind and leaving me exhausted. 

“Baz…” I turn to Simon, a soft smile pulling at my lips. He has a look on his face that I can’t quite read. 

“Yeah, Snow?” The look clears and he smiles weakly. My eyebrows furrow. “What’s wrong?” 

“Wh-uh, how much do you know about this story?” I grow more concerned as he not-so-smoothly changes his sentence mid-thought.

“Not… much? Only what you confirmed earlier, really. I’d only just heard of it before the spell, though.” He nods, looking both apprehensive and thoughtful. 

“Okay. So now would be a good time to warn you to get away, I guess.” I frown, squinting at him.

“From what?” He looks up at me, visibly tense. I don’t like that look...

“You need to get the girls away from here. It’s… Not going to be pretty, so on the off-chance you’re right and they actually are here for real—” While I appreciate him considering my worry from earlier, he looks a little too disbelieving for it to seem completely genuine towards the end there. “—they aren’t going to want to watch this.” He pauses, tilting his head in consideration. “Well, maybe they will. They’re pretty weird.” 

I glare at him. “Careful.” 

“In a good way!” He’s quick to assure, before the grim look is back. “You guys really do need to go, though. Do you hear that?” We both pause, listening for whatever he’s talking about. After a few tense seconds I jolt. 

“Is that… growling?” Simon nods stiffly. 

“It’s a hydra.” I connect the dots almost instantly. 

“You can’t possibly—”

“I have to. People could get hurt!” 

“You could get hurt, you numpty!” I raise my voice, then point at him accusingly when he juts his chin out determinedly. 

“Baz.”

“No."  

We glare at each other silently for a moment before the growling gets louder and the ground starts to shake under us. 

“You need to leave.” He shouts, standing unsteadily. I rise with him and cross my arms. 

“Not without you!” 

He looks pained for a second before shaking his head. “Think of your sisters. I know this story as well as my own, trust me.” Those last two words send a spark of anger up my spine at the memory of Aladdin but I brush it aside to make room for the anger I feel for this story. Even if he’s making a surprisingly valid argument at the moment. 

“But—”

“I know what’s about to happen, you don’t.” He pokes my chest angrily. “Use your big brain you’re always bragging about and think. The twins shouldn’t be here for this. Stop being stubborn.” I frown harder.

“Fine. But—” I grab his wrist before he can run off. “—be careful.” He looks like he wants to argue so I slide my hand down until I’m holding his hand. Our fingers intertwine and he looks into my eyes curiously. “Please, Simon.” 

Something shifts in his gaze, becomes somehow both more and less focused, and he nods, then jerks his head to where the twins are sitting on the ground, watching us silently. 

“I will if you do.” He smiles when I nod and pulls away, hesitantly letting go of my hand. My arm falls to my side as he turns and sprints away. 

“Baz?” Both Sophie and Petra ask from below as they clamber to their feet clumsily. I crouch down and steady them. 

“Yes, little puffs?” They giggle, leaning into my arms. 

“The bright boy said we should leave. Are we gonna-gonna listen?” Petra asks, tugging at my clothes.

“He looked scared. Baz, why is the bright boy afraid? Isn’t he a hero?” Sophie stares up at me with wide eyes. Why was I stuck with explaining this? Aren’t meaningful questions a problem parents should be stuck dealing with.

I pause, then make sure they’re both looking at me before speaking. “...Sometimes, even heroes are allowed to be scared.” 

“Really?” They both gasp.

"I mean, sure. Like…” Well, shit. Here goes nothing, I guess. “Do you two remember watching Cinderella with Mordelia and I?” They both nod quickly. I lean closer, as if I were telling them a secret. 

“Cinderella was terrified when the evil stepmother locked her in the attic.” 

“Nuh-uh!” I shake my head, smiling softly. 

“Yuh-huh!” They giggle again and I can feel some of the tension leave my shoulders. “It’s true! But everything was okay in the end, right?” They both nod, putting exaggerated brave faces on. 

“Right!” 

“Uh-huh!” 

I stand and brush off my legs, smiling when they both take one of my hands. “Let’s get going now, all right?” They take off, trying to pull me along after them. I catch up in a few steps and rush us all away from the rock slide, swinging our arms to make them laugh. We blend into the crowd of onlookers and I rise to my toes trying to see over a few people’s heads as they start cheering. God, do I wish I still was tall.

A clash of metal attracts my eyes to the left of where we rescued the girls and I nearly scream when I see a giant hydra snap its jaw directly beside Simon’s head, just barely missing him as he swings a sword from Merlin knows where at it. 

Fiona is standing off to the side screeching useless advice as Simon scrambles around, trying to find an angle that will actually harm the monster. 

The crowd all cheers as he cuts the hydra’s head off but he doesn’t turn to acknowledge them. Instead he braces himself and holds the sword out in front of him. The head rolls to his feet and he simply kicks it away, not taking his eyes off of the limp body. 

A few seconds later the head’s replaced with two others, something Simon was clearly expecting. He rushes forward and cuts those off, waits, then continues until a horrifying number of heads are all writhing about, trying to tear him apart. 

“Oh, what are you doing?!” I finally scream alongside the crowd, gripping the girls’ hands. Sensing the serious mood, they stay quiet and just hug my legs. Simon’s head snaps up and he meets my eyes which is odd because there’s no possible way he heard me over the rest of the people shouting. I frown at him. 

‘What are you doing?’ I mouth. 

‘It’s going to be okay,” he replies silently, then does what is possibly the stupidest thing I’ve ever seen this idiot do up to date, which is saying a LOT. 

He backs into the wall of rocks left from the slide and grits his teeth before his skin starts glowing bright gold like it did earlier. A shaking fist raises from his side and strikes the wall, causing another, larger rock slide that crushes the hydra. 

And. And— 

“SIMON!” I’m not even sure he hears me under there (or if he’s even alive—but we’re not gonna think about that. Nope. Nope, nope nope nope), but more than a few people twist around to look at the psychopath screeching from the back; so now I’m terrified and humiliated. This is great. 

“Baz?” Two quiet voices jolt me out of my thoughts and I immediately kneel down to their eye level. 

“Yeah?” My voice cracks halfway through the word and I clear my throat, absently wiping tears off of my face with the heel of my hand. Think of your sisters. 

“You’re sad.” Petra says simply, then reaches up to help wipe my tears away. Of course, she just succeeds in slapping me sloppily, but the innocent gesture just makes me start crying harder. Sophie joins in and I’m hit with a wave of hysterics because this is a rather pathetic sight, isn’t it?

I’m surrounded by a large group of people who’ve gone silent in shock after watching their supposed hero get smooshed with the fucking enemy as I sob into the frantic hands of two little girls who don’t know how to deal with emotions yet. 

At least Bunce can’t see any of this. 

“Look! Look!” Someone shouts, pointing towards the rocks. I slowly lift my head and turn in that direction, then jump to my feet when I see one of the larger rocks tremble slightly. Please…

The rock lifts a few more inches and tumbles down the small hill of other boulders, then a head full of messy curls rises from the dusty mound like… well, like a god. 

He stumbles out of the rubble and reaches a hand up to swipe his bloody lip with his thumb. That little bit of movement is enough to get me moving. I shove past everyone and break through the crowd, not stopping until I crash into Simon. 

“Woah, hey!” He returns the embrace just as tightly, leaning into me. “I told you it’d be okay,” he whispers into my hair and I shiver. 

“That doesn’t excuse you for being a complete dumbass,” I mutter, the words losing any sort of bite with the pathetic sniffle that follows. Simon pulls back and frowns, wiping away more tears because clearly I haven’t cried enough in front of him in the last however many days we’ve been here. 

“I had to—” 

“You most certainly did not—”

“No, Baz, you don’t understand. That’s literally how the film goes. That was the only option.” 

I snort. “Well, we’ve clearly proven that that’s not true.” He gives me a deadpan look before reaching behind him and pulling out a tattered piece of paper. 

“That,” he says, pointedly unfolding the note, “is exactly what we will not be testing. I rather enjoy being alive, thank you.” I sigh, staring at the note for a moment. 

“What now?” I ask, looking up at Simon. He raises his eyebrows.

“You’re asking me?” 

I roll my eyes. “Yeah, Snow. I’m actually asking you for advice. Don’t get used to it.” I sigh again. “But you’re right.” His eyebrows rise higher and mine lower into a pout. “Don’t give me that look.”

He shifts his features into something more innocent. “What look? I’m not giving a look. You’re giving a look.” I glare at him before continuing. 

“...Anyways, you said it yourself. You know this story. Not me. So, tell me what happens next.” 

He smiles and takes my hand. I ignore the electric feeling again.

“We start by getting out of here. You look like you’re about to pass out and I feel like I’m about to pass out. We can worry about everything else later.” I nod, yawning to myself. 

“Mm, that sounds nice.” I pause. “I feel like I’m forgetting something.” Simon shrugs (I don’t even have the urge to commit a murder this time, I’m just too relieved he’s not dead) and I lean into him, swaying lightly. 

“Hey, steady,” he mumbles when I fall into his chest as a wave of dizziness hits me full-force. Why do I still feel like I’m forgetting so—

“Shit,” I hiss. “The twins!”

Chapter Text

Simon

I freeze. 

“What do you mean, the twins?” Baz jerks back and whips around, frantically searching the gathered crowd. 

“They were right… here. Shit.” He turns back to me, gritting his teeth in frustration. “I lost them. I don’t—I can’t—”

“Hey,” I try to calm him, lightly grabbing his shoulders. Key word try. “It’s okay. We’ll find them, okay? Everything’s gonna be fine.” He releases a breath and nods, reaching up to hold my arms. 

“Right. Right, you’re right.” I smile tightly and lead us towards the crowd, which parts for us almost instantly as cheers break out. I don’t bother stopping to appreciate the literal chanting of my name surrounding us (no matter how cool it is holy shit—) , too focused on looking for the girls. 

“There!” Baz gasps, dragging me around a corner to a hidden alleyway. 

The twins (hands still linked) are turned away from us, facing the dark wall at the end of the alley. 

“Uh—” I start as a chill runs up my spine. I know I joked about the horror movie thing but what the fuck.

“Sophie, Petra!” Baz takes a step forward but I grab his hand and hold him back, earning an angry glare. “What are you doing?” he hisses. I wince, knowing I’m going to get a very negative response to my next words.

“Baz, those aren’t your siblings.” He grits his teeth and tries to pull his hand away but I hold it tighter. Now is not the time to be stubborn, you prat!

“I thought we went over this already. We don’t know if they—SWEET MOTHER OF MERLIN, MORGANA AND METHUSELAH.” He takes multiple backwards as the twins slowly turn around to reveal unnaturally wide, horrifying grins that stretch nearly to their ears and completely blank eyes. 

“Okay,” I say, my voice shaking. “That’s gonna haunt my nightmares for a while. Hahaaaa...” Baz covers his mouth with his other hand, muffling a sob. Yeah, that must be a little traumatizing. 

“Baz,” starts one of them, her voice warped. I honestly sort of wish I had my cross on, but it seemed to have vanished when we were dropped into the spell. “You should have listened to the bright boy.” Bright…? Does she mean... me? 

“No,” he mumbles, shaking his head. “No, this can’t be… this isn’t happening.” He drops to his knees, eyes never leaving the twins. They tilt their heads to the side and start… melting?? What the FUCK?? 

They giggle, the sound distorted as they transform into Pain and Panic. Okay, now this I can deal with. Did I call it or did I fucking call it ammirite? 

I crouch down next to Baz, ignoring the pang in my chest when he turns and buries his face in my shoulder with a whimper. I wait a minute for him to calm down a bit then wrap an arm around him and carefully but quickly guide him away from the alley, not missing but not quite fully processing the glint of familiar eyes winking at me from the dark. 

So the Mage is Hades. Okay. This is fine. You knew this was going to happen. 

But Baz didn’t… 

We walk around aimlessly for a while as I half-carry Baz to the villa in the movie. We probably need to move along with the story if we don’t want anything like this to continue happening. 

I shiver at the thought of Penny melting into Hades’ hellspawn. No, I’m not happy that it was Baz’s siblings, but the thought of having to watch her… 

“All right, here it is.” We approach the tall building and I push past a curtain, leading Baz towards an old grecian couch. I lightly push him down until he’s lying across it. His eyes are completely blank even as they fill with tears. I pretend I don’t feel my own eyes start to water at the sight.

I turn to find something for him to drink, just to move and do something, when a hand grabs my wrist. I look down to Baz curiously. He stares at something just past my shoulder, still not completely here. The hand on my wrist is gripping me hard enough to make my fingers start tingling. 

“Stay. Please?” His voice is croaky, which further cements my urge to get him some water. But even so, I nod and lie down next to him on the cramped furniture, wrapping an arm around him. He curls closer to me and buries his face in my chest, clinging to the front of my clothes. 

“It’s okay. We’re okay. The girls are safe. That wasn’t really them back there.” I run a hand through his hair, smiling sadly as he relaxes into the touch. “They’re safe. You’re safe.” He exhales shakily. 

“Thank you, Simon.” I hide my face in his hair, pressing a small kiss there without even processing the action. Think about it later. Think about it later. Think about it la—

He sighs and presses closer, breath evening in seconds. 

I try to stay awake. I really do. One of us probably needs to, especially since the spell is feeling a bit spontaneous and unpredictable at the moment. Literally anything could happen. 

But the coolness of Baz’s breath against my chest eventually lulls me into the best sleep I’ve had since this mess started. 

***

“Hm…” I feel something shift beside me and open one eye, squinting at the blurry figure half on top of me. My eyes clear after a few seconds and I blink rapidly as dark hair fills my vision. Baz yawns, the hand splayed across my chest sliding down a few inches as he opens his eyes sleepily. I clear my throat and attempt to hide my blush. 

“Morning?” He moves his eyes up to meet mine, then goes bright red and moves his hand away from me, sitting up quickly. I laugh quietly, placing a hand on his shoulder to drag him back down when he tries to move further away.

“No,” I whine, still half asleep as I cage him in with my arms. “Too tired. Don’t move.” He squeaks and I bury a smile into his hair. 

“Simon.” I laugh to myself, squeezing him as he reluctantly relaxes. 

“Hm, ‘like it, when you call me Sim’n.” He goes still for a second before releasing a shaky breath and hesitantly rests a hand on my waist. I shiver.

“What time is it?” He asks, his voice quiet.

“‘Dunno. Must’ve lost my watch somewhere between Cinderella and now. ‘M tired, though. Go back to sleep.” 

He laughs silently. “No, we have things to do.” I groan. 

“Noooooo. No more things. We’ve been doing things since we got stuck in this stupid world. Maybe I just wanna lie here for a while.” 

“Surely you can’t be comfortable on this thing.” I turn my face until I can look up at him. Our noses brush and he blushes again. 

“I’ve slept on worse before.” I adjust the arm around him pointedly and smile as his breath catches. “S’ not terrible, all things considered.”

“You’re an idiot.” 

“Maybe, but what does that say about you?” 

He huffs, opening his mouth to respond. 

“Oh! There you two are!” Fiona enters the villa and I jerk backwards, falling off of the couch thing. She raises an eyebrow. “Smooth.”

“Shut up.” I grumble and sit up, rubbing the back of my head. I hear Baz laugh from his spot on the furniture and scowl. 

“You’re blowin' up, kid!” Fiona goes on, completely ignoring her nephew. I ignore her as I get up, stretching lazily. “—and, hey, are you even listening to me?” nOPE. “We have shit to do, golden boy.

I crack my back and run a hand through my hair, turning in her direction. 

“Uhhh, I’m famous now blah blah blah, you have a schedule of useless tasks, yadda yadda yadda. Oh, and I’d move if I were you.” Her eyebrow twitches higher. 

“Why’s that?” Not even a full second after the words are out of her mouth a crowd of screeching girls sprints into the villa, trampling over Fiona. I wince, then yelp as they all start grabbing at me. Fiona whistles through her fingers and they all turn towards her for a second, allowing me a chance to sprint away. I rush to the wall and hide behind a tapestry, holding my breath. 

Don’t be suspicious, don’t be suspicious, don’t be—

“Where’d he go?” 

“He was right here!” 

“There! On the veranda!” I listen to them all take off and release the air from my lungs, slumping against the wall. Thank god. One of them almost got my sandal.

“Let’s see, what could be behind curtain number three?” Baz pulls back the curtain with a smirk, hair still slightly mussed from sleep. It’s adorable. 

I grin at the accidental reference to the movie and step closer. “Hey.” 

He gives me a strange look. “...Hey?” 

“Wanna play hooky?” 

He frowns. “What do you mean?” I shrug, grinning as he glares at me. Cute. 

“It’s an American phrase, I think. Kid at one of the homes said it all the time and—anyways, uh, I mean, we forget about the spell and all the stress that comes with it. Just… have fun.” He wrinkles his nose. 

“That sounds great and all but what about the ominous note?” He holds the paper up and I calmly take it, unfold it, and tear it in half. Then I smile, grabbing his hands and leading him out the door. 

“What note? We’re going to have a fun day and there’s nothing you can do about it!” 

“I wouldn’t be too sure of that, Snow.” 

Baz

Okay, maybe he was right. I was having fun. But I’d never tell him that.

He took me to some restaurant near the bay, then a play. It was awfully date-like, but I refused to let myself overthink it. Falling down that rabbit hole was not something on the list of things that Needed To Happen today. 

Currently we’re walking through a lovely garden area, with a massive fountain in the center and multiple statues surrounding the ivy-covered walls. 

It’s also a very date-like atmosphere. Dammit. 

We walk along the side of the fountain, Simon’s mindless chatter filling the silence. 

“—but that’s when I said that honestly , they shouldn’t base their entire governing system around brute force because honestly what’s my head going to do for the goblin economy, right?” I hum to show that I’m listening, watching him gesture wildly as he speaks with an expression that is probably much too soft for “enemy status.” Fifth year me would be appalled. 

Scratch that, last week me would be appalled. 

“Hey,” he says suddenly, cutting himself off. I school my expression and raise an eyebrow.

“Hey..?” 

“Today, um.” He looks down at his feet, then abruptly into my eyes with an intensity that genuinely startles me for a moment. “Today was good, right?” All of the breath is sucker-punched out of my lungs. 

Wh- what does he mean by that? Like in a friend way? In an enemy way? In an awkward small talk way?

After a minute I realise he’s probably waiting for an answer and blink forcefully, shaking my head. 

“Uh, yeah. It… was good.” He smiles blindingly at me and I can’t tell if I want to look away or never stop staring at his constant brightness. 

“I think… I think I was wrong about you.” And, there goes the oxygen again. 

“W-what?” I cough. He smiles brighter, somehow, completely oblivious to the reaction he inflicted with his fucking words. Get it together, idiot.

“I mean, I always thought I hated you, but after all this…” He shrugs. “I dunno. I think I was wrong. You’re not the big scary villain I always imagined you to be, and I guess it took this spell to realize that.” His smile turns sheepish as he blushes and looks away, towards the fountain. 

I take a moment to get a hold of myself and gather my thoughts while he’s distracted, though my mind is spinning with all of the possible connotations of him admitting that.

“I… suppose I was wrong about you too, Snow.” In more ways than I can imagine. He gives me a stunning grin (everything about him is stunning; always has been) and it makes me lightheaded. I pitch forward (HA) and just barely catch myself by clinging to Simon’s shoulders. 

Because of course I do. 

“Woah, you alright?” I nod, swallowing hard as he instinctively holds me by my waist to steady me. I look up (fucking UP) at him and feel my breath catch in my throat. 

“Fine. I’m fine.” I wince as my voice cracks, then freeze when Simon brushes a strand of hair away from my face, leaning much closer than he was a second ago. His hands shift a little lower on my waist and I shiver, glancing down. “What—”

He tips his head and starts to close his eyes as he slowly moves forward, intentions more than clear. I let my own eyes fall shut as all brain function ceases because this makes it the… holy shit it’s the fifth time Simon’s willingly tried to kiss me; fifteen year old me would be DYING. 

And yet...

“Wait…” I pull away, still close enough to feel his breath on my lips. He blinks, then looks at me with clear confusion. 

“What’s wrong?” I release a shaky breath and step away. His arms fall to his sides and I track the movement, avoiding his eyes. 

“I can’t. Not when… Not after everything that happened in the last story. I just—” I look into his eyes and see… understanding? That… wasn’t what I was expecting.

He nods, then smiles sadly. “I get it. I fucked up, and you have every right to want space.” I nod, trying to ignore the shaking in my hands. 

“Thank you.” He huffs out a laugh. 

“You do not need to thank me. You owe me nothing, Baz. Even if you tell me you never want to see me again, I’ll respect that.” 

I shake my head. “I… I don’t think that will be necessary. I’m still… upset, but I think, with time, we can…” I trail off, unsure of how to finish that sentence. Luckily, Simon seems to understand what I mean. He nods. 

“Of course. Take as long as you need.” He gets a strange glint in his eyes, then his smile turns more sly. Oh no. 

“In the meantime…” He reaches forward and takes my hand, pressing a short kiss to my knuckles. “I’ll just have to do everything I can to earn your trust back.” I ignore the vibrant blush that is definitely covering my face and try to look as solemn as possible. 

“I’m holding you to that. You’ll be doing my evil bidding for years, Snow.” He grins, then puts his hands up in mock fear. 

“Mercy, mercy!” He takes a step backwards, seemingly forgetting about the fountain directly behind him as his legs hit the back of the short wall and he tips backwards. I rush forward and grab the front of his clothes, catching him before he can fall in. He rights himself by clinging to me and spins around quickly, tangling our feet and nearly sending us both into the fountain. 

By the time we’re certain we aren’t going to fall, I process our position. Simon is practically holding me in a bloody dip as I cling to him. He tries to smirk (which is somehow attractive on his ridiculous face) and carefully pulls us back up to stand, safely a few feet away from the fountain. 

I brush off myself, pretending I’m not nearly as flustered as my burning face and shaking hands may lead someone to assume. 

“You’re not off to a great start,” I try to deadpan, but my voice is way too breathless for it to come across that way. He just winks and starts off towards the entrance of the garden. 

“Sorry,” he calls over his shoulder before turning around and walking backwards. “I’m the Chosen One, not the Graceful One.” I hide a snort behind my hand. 

“Where are you going?” He shrugs easily.

“Fiona’s gonna storm in here in about fifteen seconds, pissed at me for vanishing all day. Thought I’d let you avoid the blow up.” I put my hands to my heart dramatically. 

“How thoughtful.” He grins, then flinches as a shrill voice screeches from the entrance. 

“SIMON FUCKING SNOW YOU BETTER HAVE A FAN-BLOODY-TASTIC EXPLANATION FOR THIS BULLSHIT—” 

“That’s my cue!” I tip my head to the side, smirking. 

“How many times have you seen these movies?” He shrugs again (sigh) and turns around, jogging out of the garden without another word. 

I drop onto the fountain wall, sighing. 

“What a day. What a fucking week.” 

I jolt as multiple people start… is that humming? below me??

I cautiously bend over, glaring when I see what looks to be some cartoon depiction of the muses engraved but somehow animated and moving staring at me expectantly. 

The tune they’re humming seems vaguely familiar and I try to remember where I’ve heard it. A memory of Mordelia singing this song while doing homework flashes through my mind. 

“No chance, no way, I won’t say it. No, no~”

“What’s that?”

“Oh, it’s from a Disney film we haven’t watched together yet. I dunno if you’d like this one.” 

I sigh, giving the five muses a deadpan stare, causing them to pause their singing.

“Nope. Not gonna happen. You’re about five years too late.” 

They grumble and curse at me as they walk away, vanishing around the corner of the fountain. I laugh to myself bitterly. 

I’ve known I’ve been in love for a LONG time.

Chapter Text

Penny

I’m going to do it. I’m going to tell Agatha. 

I can’t take all of these secrets anymore. I’ve never really been any good at lying, but my limited experience in covering Simon’s ass did NOT prepare me for this shitshow. 

Of course, I wouldn’t have this issue if Simon didn’t consistently try to kiss Baz while he had a fucking girlfriend.

But no. He’s always striven to make my life just a little too difficult. Usually I like the challenge, but now my grade is on the line so all bets are off. I know telling her will probably be messy (to say the fucking least), but having her find out on her own either by eavesdropping on other students in this class or—Merlin forbid—catching them snogging after they come back would be… yikes.

Not to quote ABBA but why did it have to be me?

I sigh deeply, channeling my inner weary elderly. You can do this, Penny. You fought the fucking Humdrum, for Morgana’s sake! You can tell your friend that her boyfriend is cheating on her. Because of you. With his enemy. Who happens to be her sort-of-crush. Also, you kinda just ran away from the Humdrum...

Fuck. This might be a little harder than I thought. 

“Whatcha thinking about?” I scream at the voice directly next to my ear and throw my fist back over my shoulder as hard as I can. A groan followed by a curse makes me pause. I consider the current situation. 

That voice sounded like Agatha. 

So did the groan. 

I am at lunch, and this is usually around the time when Agatha gets to our table.

...

Well, this is great! I don’t have to worry about pissing her off when she’s already mad at me for punching her in the face! Now I can just lightly break the news to her about Simon and take her to the nurse to get some ice (if necessary). Perfect. Nice work, Penny.

“Penny, what the hell?!” I turn on the bench and wince. Agatha is on the ground, hair a mess around her face and hands cupping her nose. The worst part is the furious glare on her face. It’s enough to strike fear into any man’s heart. Or woman. Or other. Either way, I’m terrified.

So, naturally, I panic. 

“SIMON CHEATED ON YOU.” 

Silence. 

The air seems to still as she carefully removes her hands from her face, staring at me with an unreadable expression. There’s tears in her eyes, but I’m pretty sure it’s from the punch to the nose. I hope it’s from the punch. I'm not sure what I'm going to do if she starts crying. 

"What.” Her voice sounds dead. That’s probably not good. 

...Nowhere to go but up?

“With Baz,” I stumble over my words, just trying to get it all out before I second guess this whole “honesty” thing. Agatha tilts her head up at me, eyes as empty as her voice. “...And, uh. It’s sorta, kinda, maybe, my fault. Heh. Heheh. Pleasedon’tkillmeI’msorry— ” 

She blinks once, then starts laughing. No, not laughing. Cackling. Hysterical cackling. She sounds deranged. 

I take back what I said about the glare being scary—this is pee-your-pants HORRIFYING. 

If someone told me Micah was cheating on me behind my back I would be throwing shit and rioting. I would not laugh. Hysterically. What the fuck, Agatha.

“I see… that you are taking this well...“ I slowly grab my tray and step away from her, creeping towards the doors. “So I’m just going to g—” I cut myself off with a squeak when she instantly stops laughing and grabs my arm in a death grip, terrifying glare firmly back in place. 

“You aren’t going anywhere until I get a damn-good explanation, Penelope.” Ouch, full name? 

I nod, cringing. “That’s fair.” 

She pulls herself up to her feet and drags me over to the table with unexpected strength. Though I suppose the constant kidnapping may inspire a desire to gain some muscle. I drop into my seat, flinching when she slams her books down and sits with a blank face. 

How?! How is that scarier than the glare?!

“Talk. Now.” I swallow hard.

“Okay. Uh. It’s my spell. It…” 

I explain for almost half of our lunch hour, then we both sit completely still for another ten minutes after I’m done. 

“Wow.” Agatha says weakly, breaking the silence.

“Yeah.” 

“I mean, wow. I should be upset—well, more upset—but honestly I’m not that surprised.” She breathes out a laugh, shaking her head. “He always seemed more interested in Baz than he ever was in me.” I pat her arm in sympathy. I’m not romantically interested in either boys, obviously, but I am his best friend and I’ve thought the exact same thing numerous times. 

And we’ve never had to set a limit to how much he talks about Agatha.

Agatha sighs, staring up at the ceiling with a wistful expression. “I mean, yeah I’m bummed or whatever because I’m single and that sucks but like… I’m happy for him, you know? Ugh, that doesn’t make any sense—”

“No, no! It does!” I’m quick to assure her, hoping her good mood stays and takes away any urge to kill me. “I wasn’t close to him in the same way you were, but I still get it.” I huff out a small laugh, shaking my head. “How many hours did we spend listening to him rant about Baz’s fucking hair, or his ‘perfect bloody body’ while he played football?” Agatha snorts, a surprisingly undignified sound I didn’t think she was capable of making.

“We were so blind!” I start laughing with her. The people at the other end of the table give us odd looks. 

“Merlin, we’re idiots.” 

We both sigh and laugh some more before falling silent once again. I rest my chin on my hand and look down at the table, then grin mischievously. 

“Hey, Agatha?”

“Hmm?” 

“Would you like… to see them?”

She gives me a strange look. “What do you mean?” 

I pull the mirror out of my pocket and slide it across the table, then point my ring at it. 

“Mirror mirror!” 

It fogs up before a clear image of Simon and Baz in each other’s arms, faces mere inches apart and steadily moving to close the small distance. 

Of course. Of course they have to be doing this shit right now. At least I don’t have to hide anything from Agatha now. And she’s taking it all extremely well. 

I look up at her and blink. She’s smiling down at the mirror. Not bitterly, not with a thirst for vengeance. A genuine, happy smile. 

“They really are perfect for each other, aren’t they?” She asks, idly twirling a strand of hair around her finger. I snort. 

“No way. There’s too much conflict with the warring sides and all of that nonsense they’ve been dealing with since first year. But… I think if anyone could figure it out and make it work—even with all of their history—it’s those two.” Agatha nods, looking thoughtful. Something on the glass makes her frown. (But even so, it seems like a weight's been lifted off of her shoulders, leaving her much less tense and rigid. It's a good look on her.) 

“Wait, why is Baz backing away?” I furrow my eyebrows. What are they up to now?

“What do you mean?” She leans across the table some more, pushing the mirror closer to me.

“Look,” she squints at the image, as if that’ll make it easier to understand. She should know better than to think anything relating to Simon and Baz would ever manage to make any sort of sense. 

I look down just in time to see Simon kiss Baz’s hand and almost fall backwards into the fountain. Seems about right. 

I pat Agatha’s shoulder in a slightly-patronizing way. 

“Oh, you have no idea what you’ve missed.”

Chapter Text

Simon

I pull myself over the high bar, flipping lazily in circles. 

“And then he said he’d—”

“—Forgive you with time, yeah, I know,” Fiona grumbles, crossing her arms. I send her a bright smile that makes her wince. Maybe an aversion to positivity is a Pitch thing, not just a Baz thing.

“Yeah! I’m… this is good, right?” She raises an eyebrow, stepping away from the short wall she was leaning against. 

“What do you think?” Good question. 

I drop to the floor, picking a weight up and throwing it as hard as I can. It flies out of the arena-like area Fiona dragged me to and vanishes with a small twinkle in the distance. 

“I… yeah. I think it’s good. Really good.” I smile to myself, picturing Baz’s face when I kissed his hand. I’m not entirely sure what possessed me to do that but his reaction was definitely worth it. 

“Then that’s all that matters, kid.” I nod, half-lost in thought. 

“I guess.” We go silent for a minute before Fiona groans, starting towards the exit. I frown after her. 

“Where are you going?” I call. She shrugs, not turning around. 

“I’m bored. I’ll find something to do until the next monster attacks.” I frown harder. This wasn’t what happened in the story. But I guess in the real movie, Meg was a traitor working with Hades, and Baz explicitly said he wasn’t so this is probably just the plot trying to get back on track.

Sure enough, as soon as the thought leaves my mind a bright flash to my left reveals the Mage, wearing his usual attire and smiling creepily. Ugh.

“Hello, Simon.” I shiver when he makes eye contact, gaze (literally) blazing. 

“I don’t want to talk to you.” I turn away just after seeing his face drop into a mock pout. He pops up in front of me, flames flickering through his hair. 

“Aw, that’s not a very nice way to treat the person who saved your life. Without me, you wouldn’t even be here.” I scowl, hating that he’s right. Without him, I never would have been taken to Watford. I never would have met Penny, either. Or Baz.

I stay silent, turning away again. He floats into my sight, looking slightly more peeved than before. Good. 

“Why don’t you just hear me out, huh? Maybe we can… strike a deal?” I growl and whirl around to face him, glaring as he starts to cackle. 

“That’s not funny.”

He puts his hands up in surrender, still giggling. “Kidding, just kidding. Poor joke. Won’t happen again, I promise.” His smirk turns sly. “Speaking of promises…” 

I purse my lips and push past him. Whatever he has to say will fall on deaf ears; I’ll be damned before I’m tricked by him again.

His voice follows me. “A little vampire decided to seek me out after you left the garden…” I tense, then shake my head, ignoring him again. He’s lying. He’s lying. He’s lying—

“Yeah, said something about wanting to truly join the dark side.” I snarl, facing him. 

“Liar.” He just grins.

“Oh, good! You were listening!” I clench my fists at my sides, taking in a deep breath. Calm down. This is exactly what he wants—a reaction. The Mage’s face grows more serious than it’s been this entire conversation and I prepare for the worst. “You’re right, he didn’t come to me. I came to him. And if you want him back, I’d suggest you do as I say.” He levels me with a threatening stare and somehow I get the feeling he isn’t even remotely joking anymore.

“What are you going to do to him?” He smiles grimly. 

“That remains to be seen. So!” The grin instantly is back on his face as he steps forward, holding a hand out. “Twenty four hours, I take away your godly powers, yadda yadda. You know the drill, I’m sure. Do we have a deal, Simon?” I look directly into his eyes, hands remaining firmly at my sides.

“Prove it.” He falters, his hand dropping slightly. Your turn to be caught off guard.

“Prove it? What are you, twelve?” He shakes his head, then snaps his fingers. Besides him, tied up in what looks to be ropes of… smoke… okay, interesting—is a struggling Baz. He looks up at me and gasps. 

“Don’t listen to him—” 

I rush forward but the Mage pushes me back with a sharp jab to the chest, barely blinking. Baz vanishes and I glare as hard as I can at the Mage.

“Let him go.” He picks at his nails and winkles his nose, adjusting his posture to a bored stance. 

“No, I don’t think I’m going to do that. Unless…” He holds his hand out again. Baz appears again—this time with the smoke covering his mouth—and starts thrashing harder, shaking his head wildly at me. I pointedly ignore him, taking the Mage’s hand. He grins and tries to pull back but I hold tight. There’s more I have to do before this is over.

“We have a deal. But. Baz can’t be hurt. Swear you’ll let him go and promise he’ll be safe from any harm. Deal?” He groans, but nods anyway. 

“Clever boy. Fine, okay. I’ll give you that one. Pitch is safe or you get your strength and powers back. Deal.” I let his hand go, then drop to my knees as a wave of lightheadedness hits me—not unlike the feeling I get after I go off.

“Yeah, you might feel a little queasy. That’s normal, just a side effect. Hey, now you’re just like everyone else! How’s it feel, eh?” I shakingly push myself back up to my feet, still ignoring Baz’s silent protests from behind the Mage. 

“We had a deal. Let him go.” The Mage smirks at my weak voice but nods nonetheless, snapping his fingers once again.

The Mage disappears in a flash and Baz drops to the ground, gasping. I sprint forward, grabbing his head and checking him for any injuries. 

“Are you all right?” I ask breathlessly, hands fluttering around as I look for any sign of pain. He shakes his head, sending my heart rate racing before he sighs and drops his head forward onto my shoulder. 

“I’m fine.” I slump in relief and wrap my arms around him. His voice is muffled in my chest when he speaks. “You shouldn’t have done that.”

I huff. “Yes, I should have. I wasn’t just going to let him take you. We don’t know what this spell is capable of but it’s already shown that it isn’t against… a lot of bad stuff. I didn’t want to chance it and have you suffer again because I was stubborn.” A sniffle distracts me from my spiraling thoughts and I automatically move a hand up to tangle in his hair. Fuck, I don't know how to deal with tears. 

“Baz..?” 

“I’m—I’m so sorry. I don’t know what he told you, but I swear it wasn’t true. I would never—” He cuts himself off and I frown, pulling back to look in his eyes. 

“What are you talking about? You have no reason to apologize.” He freezes, looking panicked as he grabs the front of my clothes. 

“What did he tell you?” What did he tell you? 

“He sort of tried to convince me that you were ‘going to the dark side’ but it wasn’t even really a full attempt. More of a lame joke.” Baz visibly collapses with relief and I continue to wonder exactly what the Mage told him before snatching him.

“That’s, that’s all? He didn’t say anything else?” he presses. I shake my head, furrowing my eyebrows. What happened between them?

“Yeah, nothing else. Is there something you need to t—”

“NO!! Hah..” He cuts me off with an uncharacteristically nervous shout. I raise my eyebrows but drop it. For now. Bigger fish.

“Okay… Well any minute now a psychotic giant is going to start terrorizing the town so we should probably get out of here.” He gives me a bewildered look but nods and we leave the arena. At some point our hands link before we reach the crowded streets. So I don’t lose him, I tell myself. 

Someone bumps into him harshly and he stumbles into my arms, immediately blushing bright red and jerking away when our noses brush. 

I hide my disappointment when our hands are separated by grinning brightly and throwing an arm around his shoulders casually, drawing him closer to me and away from the people surrounding us. 

“What are you doing?” he hisses with no real bite. His cheeks are still slightly pink. Cute. 

“Didn’t want you to get shoved again,” I say easily, grinning wider when he pushes closer to my side. 

“...Thank you.” He tries to hide a smile by looking down at the ground. 

“No pro—”

“SNOW. WHERE ARE YOU?” A deafening, booming voice cuts me off and I immediately know it’s the cyclops. 

“What was that?” Baz looks up at me with horrified eyes. I grimace. 

“I pissed off a titan?” He scowls at my vague answer. “...it’s the next part of the story. You’re, um. You’re not gonna like this part.” He frowns, crossing his arms. 

“Why wouldn’t I like a bloody thirsty titan searching for my—you. You.” I raise my eyebrows.

“‘Your you?’” He glares dangerously. It’s the “stop talking or lose a fucking limb” glare. I haven’t seen that one in a while—Hell, I almost missed it.

“Shut up. Why does that—that thing want you?” I scoff, pretending to be offended. 

“I’ll have you know I’m a catch.” I’m joking, of course, but for some reason Baz blushes again. Strange. 

I’m quickly distracted by a bunch of screams coming from a small group. The very same group that insulted me earlier. Oh, how fun.

They shout for me and I feel my jaw drop as a massive shadow grows above the wall they’re backed up against in fear. Was–was he that tall in the movie??

Instantly, I push forward and the scrambling crowd parts, leaving a semi-decent path to them. Before I can fully take off a hand grips my wrist tightly, keeping me in place. 

I turn back to Baz, meeting the same frantic stare mirrored in my own eyes. 

“What do you think you’re doing!? You don’t have your full strength, this thing could kill you!” He pulls me closer, getting right in my face. I furrow my eyebrows, tugging at his surprisingly strong hold. 

“I need to help them.” 

“They’re not real.” A feeling of bright, burning indignation instantly rises in my chest. He’s sure one to fucking talk—

“Okay, you have no right to tell me that. Not when I’ve been telling you that the entire time while still listening to your worries. Baz, I can’t just watch them die because of me.” I try to plead with my eyes and he shakes his head, pulling me closer. I let myself fall into him, wrapping him in an embrace. 

“Trust me. Please.” He takes a deep breath and rests his forehead on my shoulder. 

“Simon.” 

My heart drops at the blatant fear in his voice. He doesn’t deserve this. He doesn’t deserve any of this. I look back over my shoulder at the group, eyes widening as the shadow looms closer, casting darkness along the entire street. 

“I don’t have time. I need time.” Baz clings to me.

“You need to get out of here.” I let out a humorless laugh and roll my eyes, blinking away angry tears. This stubborn motherfucker.

“I have to do this.” 

“You really don’t.” 

“Baz.” 

“Simon."

I sigh, then press a quick kiss to the top of his head. It has the desired effect and I watch with bitter satisfaction (because I can’t even take a moment to appreciate his blush) as he pulls back to stare wide-eyed at me. 

“Wh—”

“Baz, I need to do this.” He bites his lip, clearly conflicted. Internally, he probably knew that even with my reduced strength there wouldn’t really be anything he could do to stop me. But something was holding him back from letting me go. 

“Promise me you’ll come back safe.” I frown. 

“I can’t—” 

“Just. Just promise me. Just say it. I don’t care if you don’t really mean it. I just need to hear it.” I blink at the uncharacteristic honesty before nodding quickly. 

“I promise.” He looks off behind me like he wants to say something else, do something to hold me back longer, but gives in and steps away. 

“Okay. Okay, good.” I smile sadly and reach forward to tuck a strand of hair behind his ear. I’m finding that I do that a lot now. That I like doing it.

Just have to make it through this part. 

He nods behind me and I take the hint, sprinting towards the group. 

“SIMON SNOW. COME OUT, FACE ME!” I slide around the corner blocking the titan from sight and feel my heart drop again as he towers over me. (That’s the second time that’s happened in five minutes—probably not healthy). 

I open my mouth to distract the cyclops but he instantly notices me and picks me up, throwing me over the town. That works. I hit a mosaic with my own face on it which is simultaneously hilarious and painful. 

I groan and slide to the ground, trying to ignore the aching pain in my entire body. (note to self: being thrown at what is basically a cement and glass billboard fucking hurts).

I watch through blurry eyes as the cyclops approaches me in a matter of three large steps and picks me up by the back of my clothes, tossing me in the air and smacking me like a bloody volleyball into a wall. I cough, not fully processing the distinctly iron-like taste in my mouth. My left eye won’t open all the way and I’m pretty sure my ankle is sprained or something. 

“Snow!” I squint at the short blob running towards me, not entirely concerned about the cyclops. He wasn’t screaming anymore, so that had to be a good thing, right?

“F’na?” I catch sight of the white streak in her dark hair and slump back against the wall. Thank god. Someone else take a turn. I’m done. 

“C’mon kid, get up. You can take him; he’s weaker than the alley cat by my ex’s old place!” I smile tiredly, closing my eyes. I remember that story… heh… they named him Mustard. What a weird name for a— 

A hand instantly starts slapping my face. “Hey! Hey, no snoozing! You need to get back out there!” 

I sniff, pulling myself up a little to alleviate pressure from my chest. 

“‘S no point. I can’t win. Not against him. Not without my powers.” Fiona glares at me, looking the most intimidating I think I’ve ever seen her. 

“You promised.” I flinch. Fuck. I had nearly forgotten about that in the rush of trying to get the cyclops away from everyone. “Baz is scared shitless right now but he trusts you to get the fuck back up and take this loser down. So do it!” I nod, pushing myself up a little too fast. Fiona rushes to help me, throwing my arm over her shoulder. 

“Woah! Hey now. Easy tiger, not that much passion.” I chuckle weakly, taking a few steps forward on my own. The giant hand appears out of nowhere but I’ve seen this movie more than enough times to know exactly what was coming. I reach to the left and pull a pile of rope and a torch off of the wall next to me, swinging the flames at the cyclops the second I get close to its face. 

He screams, dropping me to swipe at his face. No matter, I had expected that as well. I pull at the rope I quickly tied to his finger while he was pulling me off of the ground and swing forward as hard as I can, winding it around the titan’s legs and pulling them tightly together. 

No, I don’t have an obsession, you do. Shut up.

He totters unsteadily, backing away in an attempt to keep his balance. I burn the rope on the end tying me to him and drop to the ground, softening the fall with a roll. The instant I gain my footing he roars, clutching at open air as he falls off the cliff side conveniently (or inconveniently, for him) positioned right behind him. 

I let out a shaky laugh, swaying as the familiar adrenaline crash hits me. 

“I did it. I actually did it.” The ground quakes as the cyclops presumably hits the ground far below but I’m too exhausted to truly be concerned about it. 

“Simon! Look out!” Two hands press hard into my back and I squeak in surprise, turning just in time to see a giant pillar fall directly where I was standing seconds prior to being saved. 

Saved. Someone saved me. There’s no way they had time to get out of the way in time. 

I freeze, then sprint towards the wreckage as soon as it clicks. 

That was Baz’s voice. Meg dies in this scene. Holy shit, Meg DIES—

“Baz!” I reach the pillar and cry out as I spot a familiar dark head of hair. “NO!”  

Without thinking, I drop into a crouch and lift the pillar as hard as I can, sending it flying away from me. From us. 

I fall to my knees and frantically reach for the body—no, not body, fuck. 

“Come on, come on, please.” Baz’s head is completely limp as I roll him over. I slap a hand over my mouth to muffle a sob, brushing his hair out of his face. 

This wasn’t what I meant. I don’t like this. This isn’t what I wanted. 

His face crumples, eyebrows furrowing in clear pain, but it’s the most beautiful and nerve-inducing sight I’ve ever seen. He’s okay. He’s okay. He’s gonna be okay. He’s okay—

“Si—”

“SHH.” He blinks blearily up at me. “Don’t talk, fuck, it’s—you’re gonna be okay. Just—just stay there. I’ll figure something out, I promise.” My voice cracks on the last word as I start crying harder. I never made him promise the same thing. Why didn’t I make him promise? 

“Simon, please.” I sniff, holding his cheek in one hand. He shakily reaches up to cover it with his own. A smile flickers across his face before he winces.

“The spell… We obviously messed up somewhere. Many somewheres. This… this was bound to happen, right? We were expecting it?” I shake my head, wiping my face with my other hand.

“No. No, you’ll be okay, we can fix this! I can get you back! Everything will be fine,” I’m babbling, I know I’m babbling, but I can’t stop. The idea of losing him, of somehow having to finish this alone and tell everyone that he was gone when I got out of here… 

“Are you always this articulate?” I choke on another sob as he unknowingly quotes part of Meg’s last line. “I can’t do this anymore, Simon.” He keeps saying my name. Why does he keep saying my name? Why does it feel like a goodbye? “Merlin, I can barely see you right now, my vision’s so spotty.” I laugh pathetically, watching his breathing slow as a tear falls down the side of his face and into his hair.  

“Baz…” 

“You’re going to have to—” he coughs wetly and I flinch, shaking my head. No. “You’re going to have to let me go, love. I’m sorry.” He squeezes my hand once as his eyes flutter shut and a numb feeling spreads throughout my body. No, no no nONONONONONO—

“Baz, Baz wake up. Come one, wake up. You can’t be—you can’t just die. You have to—I have to—fuck.” 

He stays completely still, not so much as a puff of air when I check for a pulse. He’s as cold as ever, and as pale as he has been since we were kids. He’s always looked sort of dead, but at this moment he truly looks gone. Like there’s not a person in front of me. 

No, no this isn’t right. He’s Baz, he can’t die. I need him. I can’t do this without him.

“Baz, you asshole, you can’t just…” I sniff. “You can’t do this to me. I can’t… I can’t live without you. And I know that sounds stupid because up until this mess I thought I wanted nothing more than to get rid of you but fuck. I was an idiot—I am an idiot. Just. Wake up. I can’t—” I take a shallow breath, panicking as he remains unresponsive. I… No, I can’t… I just…

“I love you!” 

And oh. That makes so much sense. 

I love him.

Holy shit, I love him. 

I love Tyrannus Basilton Grimm-fucking-Pitch, and it took him dying in my arms to realize it. 

No. He’s not dead. I can fix this. 

I look around and make eye contact with a devastated Fiona. Shit, right, she’s family. 

“Can, can you…” She cracks a sad smile and jerks her head away. 

“Go, get him back. I’ll stay here and watch him.” 

I nod, now determined. Without stopping to think about how stupid this idea is, I sprint straight off the cliff side, bracing myself as I fall through open air. If this doesn’t work out, I guess this is another way to get to Hades. 

Pegasus swoops in and picks me up seconds before I hit the ground. I gasp, wrapping my arms tight around his neck. 

“Took you long enough,” I shout to be heard over the wind. The horse huffs and continues flying towards the clouds. I squint down at the ground far below barely able to make out the cliff side from this high. 

Soon, I promise. I’ll get you back. 

Even if it’s the last thing I do. 

*** 

“Ah, Simon. Just the person I wanted to see.” I highly doubt that. “So glad you could join me down here! Bit cold, without company.” I shiver, glaring as the Mage creeps out of the underworld’s shadows. His eyes burn with an unnatural light that doesn’t belong in such a dark place. 

“Where is he?” I growl and he puts his hands up in mock surrender. 

“Woah! Take it easy, Batman! I just want to talk.” He smirks and I feel the nearly uncontrollable urge to punch it off of his face. 

“I have nothing to say to you.” I grab the front of his clothes and pull him in, giving him the darkest look I’m capable of making. “Now tell me where he is.” He laughs, pushing me away. 

“Walk with me, will ya?” I step back and jerk my head in agreement. 

He leads me through the darkness, guiding me past towering, ornate rooms. We come to a stop near a river and I take a deep breath. This is it. 

Leaning over the edge, I scan the sea of souls for a familiar face. Where… There!

I drop to my knees and reach a hand into the water immediately when I see Baz, completely forgetting the whole instant aging factor in it. Instantly, I jerk my hand out of the water, staring in awe as the wrinkled skin smoothes out. Right. River of the dead.

“Woah there! I wouldn’t touch that if I were you. Your boy is running with a… different crowd, these days. And not a very lively one, at that. Heh.” I scowl up at him. 

“You like making deals.” He smirks. 

“I do.” 

“Take me in his place.” He snorts, then stops to contemplate. 

“Oh, well. The one person who seems oh so keen on ruining all of my plans trapped forever in a river of death.” 

“Going once!”

He doesn’t acknowledge my outstretched hand, instead stroking his chin like a detective on those old shows Agatha’s dad seems to like so much. “Hmm. Is there a downside to this?”

“Going twice!” 

“Okay okay okay.” I sigh with relief when he takes my hand. He meets my eyes, grip tightening. “You get him out, he goes—but you stay.” I don’t wait any more time, diving headfirst into the water. 

Blinking through the fog, I search for Baz and swim deeper. I pass more and more of the dead while my body rapidly ages and my movements become slow and stiff. I pass hundreds of near-identical souls in my search, none seeming to process any disturbance around them. 

Just after that thought crosses my mind one of the souls looks straight at me, face pulling into an anguished expression. A young woman, by the looks of it, with curly hair like my own. She looks vaguely familiar but I can’t seem to place where I’ve seen her. 

She reaches towards me, trying to call out soundlessly through the water. I can’t read her lips, but something just behind her catches my eye and I start swimming towards the familiar figure. 

The woman seems to think I’m moving towards her, and she tries desperately to grab my arm, to pull me along faster. 

I shakingly point behind her, at Baz. She turns around, then looks back at me with a determined look. Before I can question what the look means she pushes herself forward and wraps her arms around my elbow, swinging me at Baz much faster than I could swim in this state. 

I reach Baz and pick him up bridal style, then turn back to her, knowing I’m running out of time but wanting to express some sort of gratitude towards the stranger. She wades forward, smiling sadly through tears in her eyes (somehow visible despite being in water), then puts a hand on my cheek. 

I expect her to be cold—since she’s, ya know, dead—but the touch is warm, giving me a small burst of energy. Then she presses her forehead to mine and tries to say something through the water again, and I barely read ‘boy’ on her lips before she’s pulling me into a hug, careful of Baz between us. 

I return it best as I can despite being extremely confused and having both arms full and smile as she pulls away, my entire body filling with that warm, energetic feeling. I nod in thanks and she gestures for me to head up. 

Right. On a time limit. 

I kick as hard as I can with my weakened legs, positive I’d be dead by now if not for the weird boost the soul gave me. 

As I break through the surface and suck in a massive breath, the Mage curses violently. The air around me starts glowing a bright golden color that has the Mage squinting and hissing. Like a vampire. 

Speaking of… 

I glare at the Mage when he steps in my way and headbutt him as hard as I can (how’s that for “using my head?”). He groans and bends over to hold his forehead and I move past him, determined to make it to the cliff before it’s too late. 

In what seems like no time (thanks, movie magic) I’m approaching Baz’s… body… 

I swallow as I kneel beside him, still unnerved with the lack of life in him. Carefully, I release his soul back into the body.

His eyebrows twitch, then furrow properly as he grimaces and I damn near collapse in relief. He blinks slowly, eyes clearly unfocused. His gaze locks onto my general person and I smile brightly, laughing as he groans and reaches up to cover his eyes. 

“So… bright…” I laugh again, louder this time, and gently move his arm away. He smiles up at me softly and wow, it’s somehow more breathtaking than it was on the steps in Cinderella. 

“Hi.” He laughs quietly, looking so confused and so happy . 

“Hi?” I sniff through another chuckle, then realize I’m crying and try to hide my face by turning away. Baz carefully guides my head back to face him and I’m not prepared for the concerned look he’s giving me. “What’s wrong?” I sniff again, laughing through the hum of relief still coursing in me. 

“Nothing. Nothing at all. Just glad you’re not dead, ‘s all” He snorts, smiling wider at me than he probably would have dreamed a week ago. 

“Not entirely, no.” We stare at each other for a second, both grinning like madmen, before he shakes his head. “What, uh, what exactly just happened. One second I’m dying, the next, I’m back, and you’re here, and..?” 

I furrow my eyebrows. “You don’t remember?” He shakes his head again. 

“Anything I should be concerned about?” I think back to the strange encounter with that one soul but decide against sharing anything about that. Maybe later, once I’ve thought more about it. 

“No,” I say, shaking my head. A small smile creeps onto my face again. “Nothing note-worthy.”

He raises an eyebrow and shit, I missed that. I missed that a lot. “With you? I sincerely doubt that.” I roll my eyes and grin, taking his hands to pull him up to sit.

“Yeah, yeah. I know. Worst Chosen One to eve—mph!” I cut myself off when he leans forward and kisses me, immediately shutting my eyes and reciprocating. 

Oh. Missed this too. 

He pulls back and opens his eyes partially. I stare in awe, still reeling from the unexpected kiss. 

“I shouldn’t have called you that. Even when I was mad at you. I’m sorry.” 

I blink once, then twice. Did—Did Baz just apologize? To me??

He huffs, blowing a strand of hair out of his face. 

“Don’t sound so surprised.” Oh. I said that out loud. He snorts. “Yeah, you did.” 

Fuck. 

I shake my head, ignoring the rising heat in my ears. “I didn’t mean it like that.” I pause. “Sorry.” 

He laughs, then leans up again and kisses me quickly. I sigh happily, leaning in again because honestly that was cheating, but the ground beneath us shifts into a cloud-like consistency and brings us… up? 

Baz and I share a look. Is this it? Are we finally getting out? 

“My son!” A booming voice calls, and I turn to see what looks to be a giant buff man glowing like me standing in front of—

Oh. Right. The story’s not done yet. 

“I’m so proud!” Zeus continues. “Saving this young man, sacrificing your own life for his. That’s what marks a true hero!” Baz gives me a Look that I pretend to ignore. “You’ve proven yourself worthy, and now you may come home to live with us here in Olympus.” 

I stand, helping Baz to his feet, then face Zeus. “I’m… I’m honored.” 

He spreads his arms wide, gesturing to the open gates behind him. “What are you waiting for then, my boy?” I smile and turn, taking Baz’s hands. 

“This is the moment I've always dreamed of. You have… no idea. But a life without Baz, even an immortal life, would be empty.  I—I wish to stay on Earth with him.” I look directly into Baz’s eyes. “I finally know where I belong.”

I know I’m just quoting the movie, but the words seem heavier right now, with everything we’ve just gone through at the forefront of my memory. I can tell Baz feels the same, with the way he’s looking at me.

I tune out Zeus as he responds, then the cloud we rode up on moves to drop us off on the ground. We turn to face each other. 

He stares down at our interlocked hands with a troubled expression and I nudge him lightly, getting him to look at me. 

“What’s wrong?” He furrows his eyebrows, staring deep into my eyes as he searches for something. He shakes his head, leaving me to wonder if he ever found it.

“I—Before I… you know.” I flinch but he carries on as if his own death meant absolutely nothing to him. “I swear I heard you say… something.” 

I feel something stir in my chest as my realization from earlier returns full-force. 

I love you. 

It would be so easy, to say it right here. To just tell him. 

But it could ruin everything. 

I plaster a smile onto my face and shake my head, hoping I look convincing. He seems half-lost in his own thoughts anyways, so maybe he can’t pick up on the pain in my voice when I speak. 

“Nope? I don’t think I said anything, uh, too important?” He looks down at our hands in—dare I say—disappointment and I want so badly to take it back, to see what would happen if I told him right now. 

Instead, I squeeze our hands and bring them up to knock his chin up lightly. He looks at me with that same troubled expression and I press our foreheads together, smiling softly. 

“Whatever comes next, story or no, we’ll handle it. Right?” He nods, lips curling upwards. 

“Together.”

I grin widely, elated now that he’s not mad at me anymore. 

“Together.” 

I release his hands and pull him into my arms, biting my lip as he presses close and wraps his arms around my waist. There’s no way I’m letting myself ruin this with my messy emotions. 

The floor opens up and drops us into the familiar void. I hold Baz tighter, hoping we’re finally done with this disaster. 

Everything goes dark and I release a slow breath. 

This is it. 

***

“A fine strong wind and a following sea; King Triton must be in a friendly-type mood!” 

Oh you’ve got to be shitting me.

Chapter Text

Baz

I can breathe. Underwater.

Would you like to know how I gathered this very normal and not at all terrifying information?

I woke up next to a sunken ship. U N D E R W A T E R.

Oh, and I have a fucking tail. A mermaid tail, to be unnecessarily specific. Or merman. Whatever. A tail is a tail and gender is a social construct. Moving on.

It’s quite lovely, actually. Almost as long as I am tall with small fins along the sides, and the scales are a darker indigo instead of Ariel’s typical green. I’d appreciate it more if it wasn’t on me and making me spin upside down every few seconds while I lose my balance because I’m basically floating—

Well, I think to myself as I clumsily swim closer to the ship. At least I know what story we’re in. 

I suppose this means Simon is Prince Eric. Lucky bastard. 

“Baz, wait for me!” A high pitched voice calls from behind me. I slowly spin in a circle, then wave my arms around to keep upright when I start tipping upside down. Again.

Wait. I know that voice.

“Mordelia?” She blinks up at me, her own tail shimmering blue and yellow. Huh. I don’t remember this in the movie. Flounder, maybe?

“Yes. That’s my name.” Little shit. I roll my eyes and smile, taking her hand. 

“Come on, little nightmare. We have a ship to scavenge.” She furrows her eyebrows with an adorably nervous face. 

“Are-Are you sure? It looks dangerous.” I grab her shoulders and will myself to sink down to eye level. Then I smile encouragingly, winking at her. 

“That’s what makes it fun, right?” She nods shyly. I smile, nudging her chin up lightly. 

“You’ll be all right. I promise.” I reach down and grab her hand again, then pull her along with me. 

We squeeze through a small porthole and look around, grabbing random small items as we move through the ship. I shove a fork into the small bag I woke up with and turn around, grinning at Mordelia. She refused to leave my sight, sticking to my side and jumping at every noise. 

For a moment, she branches off to grab what looks to be an old smoking pipe, then returns to hand it to me. I ruffle her floating hair and put the pipe in my bag. 

“Thanks, little puff.” She beams a toothy smile and looks past me, then pales. 

I frown. “What’s wrong?” A shaking hand rises and points behind me. Slowly, I turn and stare out past the large window across the room, straight into the eyes of a massive shark. 

Oh. Oh shit. 

“Swim,” I blindly reach behind me, grabbing Mordelia and pushing her towards the exit. “Swim!” 

We hurry through the ship, hearts racing as the shark steadily tears apart the structure behind us. 

We reach the porthole and I shove Mordelia through the opening, following just seconds before the shark crashes through the wall entirely. 

“Aah!! BAZ!!” I shudder as flashbacks of the twins in Hercules flit through my mind and whip around, shaking my hair out of my face and gasping when I see Mordelia crouched near the seafloor (when did she get down there?? And how did I not notice??), pulling at—is that my bag!?

“MORDELIA!” I scream, swimming towards her as fast as I can. “LEAVE IT! GET OUT OF THERE!” 

She looks up and freezes, still clutching the strap of the bag. It looks like it’s caught on a hook or something. I follow her gaze and suck in a huge breath of… water…

Headed full-speed towards her is the shark, jaws open wide. 

I look to the shark, then to the ground, then to the shark again, before nose diving to the seafloor, dragging Mordelia straight up by her armpits as fast as I can. The shark snaps its jaw shut just centimetres away from my tail, making the water surrounding it shudder. 

It whips around and takes off after us again. I catch sight of a small ring-shaped metal… thing and get an idea. 

“Swim through there!” I point at the ring and push her forward, following her when I’m sure the shark is still following. The second I make it through the ring I hear a dull metal clang. Bingo. 

We slow to a stop about ten feet away and I heave out a huge sigh, bending over and holding my head. 

“Baz?” Mordelia’s quiet, worried voice forces me to look up, plastering a tight smile onto my face. 

“Yes?” She flicks her fins anxiously and avoids my eyes, holding her hands behind her back. “What is it?” 

Wordlessly, she holds a hand out and bites her lip. I blink in shock as she presents the bag to me. 

“I’m sorry! I know you said leave it, but it seemed important and I know it meant a lot to you so I didn’t want to just leave it, and-and—” I hurry forward and grab her face lightly, making her look at me. 

“Oh, Mordelia. It’s alright, little one. I wasn’t upset. Just insanely worried.” She blinks, sniffing. 

“Really?” I nod. 

“Really really.” She giggles and I teasingly flick her nose. “But don’t make a habit of it, okay?” I smile when she nods seriously and hands me the bag. 

“Promise!” 

I take her hand and lead us to the surface, looking for the small island where Scuttle is supposed to be. 

I spot the isle and guide us towards it, dropping the bag on the sand once we rise out of the water. A large seagull pops around the corner of a small rock tower and hops over to us, humming some tune. 

“Whatcha got for me today?” I nod to myself, pushing the bag closer. Ah. Ebb. I suppose that makes sense. 

She reaches a wing into the bag and somehow pulls out the fork. I roll my eyes but subject myself to looking like an idiot for the sake of plot. Bunce owes me so hard for this. 

“What is it?” Ebb holds it to the sky like it’s some godly artifact.

“Ooh, this one’s special. Very, very unusual indeed.” She sticks it in her “hair” on the top of her head, twisting it around. “This, right here, is a dinglehopper!” She pulls at it and I hide a laugh as the feathers on her head poof out. “Humans use these little babies to straighten their hair out. They go nuts over ‘em!” I take it from her and let out a small laugh. 

“A dinglehopper.” 

Mordelia digs around in the bag and pulls out the pipe. “What about this one?” 

Ebb snatches it out of her hands and peers into the mouthpiece. 

“Ah, this I haven’t seen in years. This is wonderful! A banded, bulbous, snarfblat.” Mordelia leans in closer, inspecting the object. I smile, happy to see her so relaxed. At least I know she’ll have one good adult watching over her when she starts attending Watford. 

“Now the snarfblat dates back to prehistorical times, when humans used to sit around and stare at each other all day.” Ebb leans in close, pressing her beak to Mordelia’s nose. She giggles as Ebb huffs a small breath onto her face. “Got very boring.” She backs away. “SO! They invented the snarfblat to make fine music.” She holds it up to her beak and clears her throat. “Allow me.” 

She blows into the mouthpiece and sprays seaweed directly at Mordelia’s face. She squeals and laughs, throwing a handful of sand at Ebb. Music...

I’m supposed to be somewhere, aren’t I? Like, a long time ago.  

“Oh god, the concert!” I picture Triton’s furious face from the movies and feel my tail (what a strange concept) swish anxiously unconsciously. “I’m dead. I’m-I’m definitely dead.”

“That was today?” Mordelia asks, looking at me nervously. I nod, stuffing the items back into the bag quickly. 

“Uh, Ebb?” She looks up from the pipe and waves me off. 

“Ah, don’t worry about it. You know I’ll see ya later.” I nod, then slide my arm through the strap of my bag and take off, knowing Mordelia isn’t far behind. 

*** 

“I just don’t know what we’re going to do with you anymore, young man.” King Triton (‘played’ by my own, actual father, definitely Not a fan of that) sighs tiredly, holding his head in his hands on his throne. 

I bow my head, staring down at my tail and absently admiring the way the scales shimmer in the light. It really is lovely. 

“I’m sorry, I just forgot—” 

“As a result of your careless behavior—” I sigh internally. Of course, even in a make-believe world my father would interrupt me before I could defend myself. 

“Careless and reckless behavior!” I snort behind my hand when a tiny lobster Fiona peeks out of his beard.

“The entire celebration was—”

“RUINED! Completely destroyed! This concert was the pinnacle of my distinguished career! Now I’m the laughing stock of the entire kingdom!” I open my mouth to argue but Mordelia peeks out from where she was hiding behind me. 

“But it wasn’t his fault!” Our father and Fiona turn to her and she visibly shifts further behind me again. “He-ah. Well first there was the-the shark. Yeah! And we almost died! But we didn’t! Then the seagull—” I slap a hand over her mouth seconds too late and she winces. “Oops.” 

“Seagull? What?” My father scowls at me. “Oh, you went up to the surface again, didn’t you?” I look down again. “Didn’t you?” 

“Nothing… happened…” 

“How many times do we have to go through this, Basilton. You could have been seen by one of those—those barbarians!” 

“They’re not barbarians!” I glare at him and he glares right back. 

“They are dangerous. Do you think I want to see my own son snared by some fish-eater’s hook?” I scowl. 

“I’m not a child—”

“Don’t you take that tone with me, young man! As long as you live under my ocean, you’ll live by my rules.” I swim forward, finally losing my temper. This is starting to hit a little too close to conversations I’ve had with my actual father and I don’t like it. 

“If you would just listen to me—” 

“NOT ANOTHER WORD. And I am never, never, to hear of you going up to the surface again. Am I clear?” I jerk backwards, shaking my head, then swim away without responding. 

Mordelia’s hand tangles with my own and I squeeze it reassuringly. 

We make it to the hidden grotto and I glance around before shutting the “door” behind us. 

“Baz…?” I hum, turning to Mordelia. She sits on the rock in the center of the hideout, watching me with an anxious expression. “Are you okay?” I smile sadly and move a floating strand of hair out of her face. 

“Our father just doesn’t understand that I don’t think the same way as him. He won’t even give me a chance to explain myself.” 

She pushes off of the rock and wraps her arms around my waist. 

“I’ll listen to you. Then you won’t need him to understand!” I feel my eyes start to tear up and wow, that’s a weird feeling underwater. 

“Thank you, little terror.” If my voice is choked up, neither of us mention it. 

We spend a while in the cave, Mordelia back on the rock while I explore the shelves of items. 

I laugh to myself, finding a small box of corkscrews. 

“Look at this stuff, isn’t it neat?” I sing under my breath with a smile. Mordelia giggles. 

“Wouldn’t you think my collection’s complete?” She barely finishes the line before giggling again and I swim over to her, tickling her sides. 

“Wouldn’t you think I’m the girl,” I bite my lip and grin as she screeches, flailing around while she tries to get out of my hold. 

“EEERRDUUUHHH EVERYTHING!” I let out a loud laugh and release her, watching as she lazily floats down to the rock again, a few stray giggles escaping her. 

I glide over to one of the higher shelves and grab a necklace, humming a few more lines to myself. 

“You have a pretty voice.” I look over my shoulder at her. 

“What was that, little one?” She tilts her head to the side. 

“Your voice is pretty.” I resist the urge to hug her right then. I swear one of these days she’s going to melt my heart and I’m going to die and honestly I’m okay with that. 

I hum in a noncommittal way, not sure how else to respond. 

A few more minutes pass before she speaks again. “Can you sing more?” 

I choke, turning around to face her fully. Surely she’s joking? 

She blinks up at me, looking completely innocent. Stupid Bambi eyes. 

I sigh, then move over to her and smile mischievously, taking her hands and pulling her up. 

“I wanna be where the people are,” I sing as dramatically as possible, spinning her around in a circle. She laughs loudly, momentum making her spiral away as I let her hands go. She hurries back over and I take her hands again, moving in a vaguely waltz-like dance (which is difficult without, you know, legs). “I wanna see, wanna see them dancing.” 

She twirls away from me, grinning widely as I continue. “Walking around on those—what do you call them? Feet! ” I swat at her with my tail, then jerk away when she tries to retaliate. We chase each other around the small grotto, laughing and screeching when one manages to hit the other. 

At some point we both stop and I put my hands behind my head, letting myself slowly sink to the seafloor. Mordelia lands beside me and copies my position.

“Out of the sea,” I whisper-sing, squinting up at the small skylight at the top of the cavern. “Wish I could be…” Twisting to the side, I brush a strand of hair out of Mordelia’s face, smiling softly as her eyes flutter shut. 

“Part of that world.”

Chapter Text

Simon

“Max! Come here boy! Come on!” I pat my legs and crouch down, laughing when the giant dog runs over and tackles me to the ground. 

I fall back and groan as he licks my face, drool dripping down my face. A hand comes up to smear it off and I wrinkle my nose, pushing him back by the chest. “Gross.” 

“Silence, silence everyone!” The ship’s attendants all quiet and turn to the speaker. He was on the ship when I woke up, but I didn't recognize him. Although, his face was pretty green at the time so I guess I had a pass. 

But now, he’s mostly fine pallor-wise. A little pale, but I’ve lived with Baz since I was eleven so I’m not concerned. At first I thought he was Ebb, only because from the side they look startlingly similar. But then he turned fully around and I saw a few major differences. He’s like Ebb, just… sharper. 

I dunno. 

I figured the story out right away though! So that was cool! 

“It is now my honor and privilege to present our esteemed Prince Simon—” He drawls my name more than says it, “—with a very special, very large, very expensive birthday gift.”

“Ah-uh…” I stare at the man, realizing I still have no idea what his name is. 

“Nico.”

“Nico, hahah… you shouldn’t have.” 

He stares at me for a second, then completely deadpan says, “I know.” I blink. “But happy birthday.” He waves to one of the crew members and they pull a large tarp off of a statue of… me. 

Oh, that’s fun. 

“Wow. I mean, you really shouldn't have.” Nico snorts. 

“I commissioned it myself. I had hoped it would have been a wedding gift, but…” 

I roll my eyes, making my way over to the side of the boat and sitting on the ledge overlooking the ocean. 

“Come on, don’t start. You’re not still sore I didn’t fall for the princess of Glauerhaven, are you?” I blink. 

Where did that come from? I don’t know a princess from… Glauerhaven? Is that even a real place? 

“Oh Simon,” Nico sings in a patronizing tone. “It isn’t me alone. The entire kingdom wants to see you settled down with the right girl.” Something about that sentence doesn’t sit right with me, but I don’t have time to process it before I hear a muffled scoff from below me.

Which would be odd, because there’s only supposed to be the wall of the ship and open ocean under me, but then I remember the part of the scene where the princess is sitting on a ledge directly beneath the prince. 

I turn to face the horizon, hiding a smile. “Well, she’s out there somewhere. I guess I just haven’t found her yet.” 

“Perhaps you haven’t looked hard enough yet.” 

I glance down over the little wall I’m seated on and make eye contact with Baz (who has a tail . It’s dark and kind of hard to see at this angle but. Wow.), then smirk and wink at him. 

His eyes go wide and he jerks back in surprise, accidentally tipping straight off of the ledge and falling straight into the water with a small splash. I laugh loudly, slapping a hand over my mouth to stifle it. 

“Trust me, I’ll know,” I say after a beat when I remember I have the next line. I kneel over the ledge, facing the crew. “It’ll just hit me, like—BAM! Like, like lightning!” On cue (because movie magic of course) lightning flashes behind me, followed by a low rumble of thunder. 

“HURRICANE A-COMIN'!” One of the crew members shouts, then starts ordering others around to prepare for the brewing storm. I move away from the wall and try not to panic, despite knowing exactly what happens next. 

Relax, I think to myself desperately. You’ll be okay. This isn’t Aladdin, there’s nothing that can drag you down, you won’t drown. It’ll be okay. You’ll be okay. 

Even so, I peer over the ledge again and swallow nervously, the idea of being fully submerged making me slightly sick. 

Deep. Breaths. 

A large flash of lightning hits the center of the ship, setting the deck aflame and splintering the wood. I shout out in shock before the ship lurches to the side and everyone is thrown overboard, into the unruly waves. 

No no no no—

I brace myself and take a deep breath before the water surrounds me completely, blocking out the sounds of the storm. Can’t breathe, can’t breathe, get out get out get out GET OUT—

I break the surface and gasp, immediately choking on a mouthful of salt water as a wave crashes over me. 

GET OUT GET OUT GET OUT GET OUT GET OUT GET OUT GET OUT—

“Simon!” A hand grips my wrist and pulls me onto a rescue boat. I cough, trembling violently from the cold and lingering terror. Nico pats my back, then jerks his head to the side when a high-pitched bark sounds from the wrecked ship. 

No… 

I choke on air, struggling with the concept of breathing when the fear of going back in the water comes crashing back. 

I had Ebb to save me last time. I don’t have a genie that can wish for me to be okay here. I can’t do this, I can’t—

“Simon… kid…” I sniff weakly, shaking my head at Nico. 

“I can’t do it. I can’t do this again. I’m-I’m going to die, and I’m scared, and-and—”

He grabs my shoulders and I gasp, ignoring the tears running down my face. More water. 

“Simon, listen to me. You aren’t gonna die. You know the other kid stuck here with you wouldn’t let that happen. That fear, it’s not going to hurt you. How you react to it, though, that’s what’ll get you. All right?” I sniff again, nodding. Right. Baz wouldn’t let me die. He’ll save me. It’ll be okay. I’ll be okay. 

Shit, is this what Agatha felt like all those times? Just depending on the hope that I’d come to her rescue before it was too late? 

“R-Right.”

“How you react is your choice, Simon. So the big question is, what are you going to do? Got it?” I clench my jaw and nod again, this time slightly more confident.

Nico grins—he’s missing two teeth, oddly enough—and pats my shoulders encouragingly. Another panicked bark reaches us and I hop lightly from foot to foot before turning to the side of the small boat, preparing to jump. 

My determination falters slightly when I return my focus to the water again but I shake my head and dive without another thought, pushing as hard as I can against the waves trying to force me away from the ship. 

I reach the large wall and use the easy handholds to make my way up to the deck, then I hold my shaking arms out to the dog. He’s stuck on a higher platform and seems too scared to jump down. 

“Max!” I call. He looks down at me and I wince when I see the fear reflected in his eyes. I take a careful step forward, holding a hand up to him. “Jump down! You can do it, I know you can!” 

He backs away before running forward and jumping, landing roughly in my arms. I turn to the ledge, then flinch when another lightning flash comes down and crashes into the ship, destroying half of it. 

The force of the blast sends us flying over the other side, into the water. I don’t have time to take a breath before the water covers my head, so I start flailing around to reach the surface. A wave pushes me back down right before I break through, sending me spiraling deeper as my chest burns.

My eyes sting nearly as hard as my lungs as I sluggishly force myself to reach the surface but I’m disoriented and I can’t even tell which way I’m swimming anymore. 

Help, help I can’t breathe I NEED AIR I NEED AIR I NEED TO GET OUT OF THE WATER GET ME OUT OUT OUT AIR I CAN’T—

Through my blurry vision I see a plank get launched through the water, most likely from the ship breaking. I don’t have the energy or time to move away from its path and it hits me directly in the forehead, everything moving slower than usual.

Black spots start to spread from the corner of my vision and my body goes limp as I dispel the little air left in my lungs. 

Small bubbles are the last thing I see before everything fades away. 

Baz

The storm is so much worse when I’m actually living it. 

It always looked awful in the movie, but holy shit. 

I can’t swim more than a few meters before a wave sends me in the opposite direction, making it insanely difficult to reach the surface and find Simon. 

Lightning strikes again and I catch a flash of bronze curls in the momentary brightness. 

Maybe I won’t need to go to the surface. 

I hurry over to the spot as fast as I can and gasp when I see Simon floating through the water, unconscious. 

Fuck. I don’t have time. 

Maneuvering myself behind him, I wrap my arms around his waist and drag him up to the surface. I nearly cry when his head just drops lifelessly to his chest. 

Where’s the shore, where’s the shore, where’s the FUCKING shore—

“Baz!” I look up and almost sob in relief as I see a panicked Ebb struggling to fly through the strong winds. I hoist Simon higher, making sure his head is above the water, and wave quickly before readjusting my hold on him. 

“I can’t find the shore,” I shout up at her, nearly hyperventilating. I can’t carry him too much longer, and I don’t know what I’m going to do if I can’t find somewhere safe to lay him. 

“I got ya, follow me!” I barely catch the words through the howling wind, but then she starts flying and I get the general idea.

We swim for what seems like seconds and hours all at once and I can feel myself sinking lower, below the waves in exhaustion, begging for the relief that comes with being weightless underwater. Then I remember Simon and push myself to stay as high in the air as I can, arms absolutely burning as I strain to hold him and swim at the same time. 

“There!” I follow her gaze to a nearby beach by what I’m assuming is his castle, materializing more and more as the storm fades and the water calms. 

The second we reach the sand I crawl forward, laying him down as softly as I can and collapsing next to him to gasp for air. 

Holy shit. 

My hair sticks to my face and sand is getting everywhere but I swear I’ve never felt more comfortable in my life now that I finally have a reprieve. 

After a minute or two I roll to my side, breathing still labored. Simon is flat on his back, completely unresponsive. 

“You better not be dead, you asshole.” I pant, then just to be sure, I reach over with a shaking arm and check for a pulse. My eyes flutter shut when I feel the faint thrumming. “Oh, thank Merlin.” 

I inch closer, brushing a curl out of his face. There’s a small cut on forehead, probably from when something hit him and knocked him out. 

“You beautiful monster.” I huff out a small, tired laugh. “You’ve put me through absolute hell, yet I’m still helplessly gone for you.” His chest rises and falls evenly and I track the movement almost obsessively. He’s okay. He’s alive. You saved him. “...Yet, it doesn’t feel so helpless as of late.” 

I shake my head, wiping sand off of his cheek. “You are so lucky I love you.” 

His eyelids flicker slightly, hopefully hinting at him waking up. I need to see his eyes. I just need to see them, see that he’s alive and well; then I’ll go. 

He blinks, looking up at me. Then his mouth falls open and he stares for a second before slowly reaching a hand up to tuck a loose strand of hair behind my ear. I shiver and close my eyes. He’s tired, he doesn’t know what he’s doing. Remember, hope kills the weak. You can’t afford weakness right now.

“Baz…” I open my eyes and smile softly at him, reaching forward to wipe some more sand off of his jaw. He looks slightly panicked and so, so tired, but he can’t seem to break eye contact.

“You’re okay. I got you,” I whisper, then look up when I hear a dog barking. That’s my cue. 

Without another word I quickly crawl back to the water and swim away, coming up further from the shore to watch him from behind a rock. 

Simon stumbles to his feet with the help of some man I’ve never seen. The man roughly brushes the sand off Simon’s back, then ruffles his hair and throws an arm over his shoulder, dragging him towards the castle. 

Just before they’re out of sight, Simon turns and looks over his shoulder, scanning the water. I duck behind the rock and press my back against it, taking a deep breath. 

Once I’m sure he’s gone, I push myself up onto the rock and lean on my elbows, sighing wistfully in the direction of the castle. 

“Soon,” I murmur. “Just a day or so now, and I’ll be with you again. Easy-peasy.” I blink and scowl. 

Easy-peasy? I’ve been spending too much time with Simon.

…WOW, is that a sentence I never thought I’d think.

Chapter Text

Baz

“Baz, you’ve been in there all morning,” someone whines. I ignore them, making a face in the mirror and laughing to myself as my hair floats weightlessly around me. 

“Baz,” someone else calls, much more strict-sounding. Sigh. I roll my eyes with a smile and swim out of the changing-room-type area, humming to myself. (I’m still not sure why they even have one of those, we don’t have clothes to change). (Although the mirrors are very nice). 

I pass the strict one, reaching out to pluck an underwater flower from a plant next to her, spinning it between my forefinger and thumb. It looks like the one Simon gave me in Aladdin, but pink. 

I definitely don’t blush as the events of that night flash across my mind. Next question.

The king gives me a weird look as I grin at the flower so I tuck it behind his ear and swim by him as well, still humming. 

It’s… it’s been a good morning. I no longer want to hit Simon when he passes through my thoughts. The opposite, actually. He just… the way he was looking at me when he woke up yesterday…

For what seems to be the first time since this whole thing started—maybe even before then—I’ve woken up feeling something akin to hope. 

Hope that maybe these feelings really aren’t just a promise of heartbreak. Maybe they’re reciprocated. Maybe… maybe all of this useless pining wasn’t so useless after all. 

Fuck hope. It’s giving me bad ideas.

I stretch out on a rock, completely tuning out Fiona as she rants about how stupid Simon is. It’s almost comical. 

“—AND THE NEXT TIME I SEE HIM WEAR SOMETHING AS ATROCIOUS AS THOSE CHEAP ASS TENNIS SHOES TO A FORMAL SCHOOL EVENT I SWEAR TO FUCKING MERLIN I’LL BUY HIM A PAIR OF PROPER FOOTWEAR AND SPELL THEM TO HIS FEET FOR A MONTH—”

No, it’s definitely comical. 

I had a feeling she wouldn’t be singing Under The Sea (which is a shame, that would have been fucking gold), but this is entertainment enough. 

A light tap on my shoulder distracts me from my thoughts, which had just started to stray back to Simon as I picked at more of the pink flowers. I turn over my shoulder and see Mordelia, grinning at me. 

I raise an eyebrow as she beckons me away. 

“Yes?” I ask as we swim away, keeping my voice quiet. She shushes me, dragging me towards the grotto. 

“It’s a secret,” she whispers, struggling with the door. I attempt to help her but she swats me away. “No, it’s a surprise. You can’t see it yet.” 

I sigh dramatically, turning around and crossing my arms. 

“Well then, I suppose I’ll just sit here until you can be bothered with my lovely presence.” 

“You’re so–hrng–dramatic sometimes–hah.” I suppress a smirk as she struggles behind me, then the rock creaks and is audibly thrown to the side. I look over my shoulder, then sputter when two small hands slap my face. 

“You know, you could have just told me to cover my eyes.” She giggles, keeping her hands in place as she leads me into the cavern. 

“That’s no fun.” She brings me forward a few more feet (or fins, I suppose) and pulls her hands away. I blink a few times and push my hair out of my face. 

Then I see it. 

And immediately burst out in laughter. 

Mordelia huffs, crossing her arms. 

“Well,” she asks with a pout. “I thought it was a lovely gift, but sure, laugh it up.”

I try (and fail) to stifle them, whipping around to cup her cheek in my hand. The “gift” was a life-sized statue of Simon in a princely uniform. 

“Aw, I love it. It’s just…” I snort, turning back to the statue. I swim closer, reaching out and flicking Statue Simon’s nose. “God, it’s so inaccurate.” 

She frowns, moving to my side. 

“How?”  

“Well you see,” I start, not taking my eyes off of the statue. “There’s no moles, first of all.” I brush my hand across the side of Statue Simon’s neck, right over the spot where one of his more prominent marks resides. I’ve daydreamed of kissing it numerous times, not that I’ll share that part. 

“And here,” I point at his eyebrows. “They are not this clean. I swear he’s never met a pair of tweezers before.” Mordelia laughs, poking the space between them. 

“And his chin isn’t that sharp. Not to mention his nails—” I sink down, inspecting his hands closely. “He bites them.” I give Mordelia a sardonic glance. “It drives me insane. Always has, really. They’re so jagged and stubby.” 

Mordelia drops onto the rock in the center of the grotto and holds both of her hands out in front of her, inspecting her own sharp nails while I continue criticizing the statue.

“Oh, and that is definitely not—” I snap my mouth shut before finishing the sentence, blushing intensely as I look away from Statue Simon’s (truly unfortunate) ass and over at Mordelia. She grins toothily at me, clearly hiding a laugh. 

I clear my throat, moving along quickly. “I mean, I suppose it isn’t that far off. I’m just… extra-aware of him. Right?” She looks over at me, then at the statue. 

“Yeah, looks pretty good to me.” I smile, then appraise the statue once again. 

“Pretty good,” I repeat quietly, taking it in. 

I wish the real Simon was here right now. 

Just as the thought crosses my mind, a shadow covers me. 

Shit. 

“I consider myself a reasonable merman.” Shit. “I set certain rules, and I expect those rules to be obeyed.”

I turn around, facing the king. “But—”

“Is it true that you rescued a human from drowning?” 

SHIT.

“I had to!” I move away from the statue, scowling at my father. 

“Contact between the human world and the mer-world is strictly forbidden. Basilton,” Ouch, full name. “You know that. Everyone knows that—” 

“He would have died!” I shout, not caring about any repercussions. He can’t possibly assume I’d just leave him to drown?

“One less human to worry about!” My father bellows, which startles me so much I flinch back. Malcolm Grimm does not lose his composure unless he is well and truly pissed. 

“You don’t even know him!” I try to get my earlier confidence back but it’s difficult, especially after his outburst. 

“Know him?” He sets his mouth in a straight line and glares at me disapprovingly. “I don’t need to know him. They’re all the same. Spineless,” He moves forward a foot. “Savage,” Another foot, “Harpooning,” Another, “Fish-eaters, incapable of any feeling—” 

“I love him!” I slap my hands over my mouth, shrinking back. Bad idea. Very, very bad idea. 

“No,” my father whispers and I almost wish the shouting would come back. “Have you lost your senses completely?” I shake my head, backing even further away. 

“N—”

“He’s a human; you’re a merman.” 

“I don’t care.” My voice shakes as I blink away tears (a lot of good that does, underwater).

“So help me, Basilton. I am going to get through to you, and if this is the only way to do it,” he gives me a dark look, creeping forward. “Then so be it.” 

The trident in his hand glows before he points at something on a shelf behind me, sending a bright lightning-bolt of magic at it. I scream, jerking out of the way before I get hit. Holy shit.

As he continues destroying the grotto I grip the statue, hiding behind the stone as tears fill my eyes and vanish in the water. 

I look up just in time to see him point the trident at Statue Simon. 

“No!” 

I back away and duck behind the rock Mordelia was on earlier (fuck, Mordelia. I lost track of her when my father came in and haven’t seen her since—) just as the statue is blown to pieces. 

A long, deafening silence follows before being broken by a small sniffle. I uselessly wipe my eyes and look out over the rock. Fiona shuffles forward, looking apologetic. 

“Baz, I—”

I glare as best as I can, crossing my arms tightly over my chest and turning my back to her. 

“Just go away.” 

More silence follows, so I allow myself to sink onto the rock, hugging myself as I look around at the destruction. One of my fins brushes against a flat-sided stone, gaining my attention. I reach out and grab it, then gasp and let it drop onto my lap. 

Staring up at me is half of Statue Simon’s face, imperfect but still close enough to him that I feel more wretched emotions stirring in my chest. 

My thumb brushes against his stupidly perfect eyebrow and I choke back a sob, curling into myself as I cradle the broken face. So much for a good day…

“Poor child,” a slimy voice muses. 

“Poor, sweet child,” says another. I look around, wiping my face. 

“He has a very serious problem.”

“If only there were something we could do…”

“But there is something.”

I shake my head and squeeze my eyes shut, pulling at my hair lightly. 

“Who–Who are you?” I clear my throat, then blink and stiffen when two eels slither out of the shadows.

“Don’t be scared,” one hisses as they swim near. I lean back, curling my tail close. 

“We represent someone who can help you.” 

“Someone who could make all of your dreams come true.” 

Yeah, right. 

“Just imagine,” the both hiss together. 

“You and your prince,” one grins sharply, flashing jagged teeth. 

“Together, forever.” 

I sniff, then frown at them both. “I don’t understand.” 

“Davy has great powers,” they whisper together. Dav–oh. Nope. Not happening.

“The… sea witch?” They nod. “What–That’s–No! I couldn’t possibly–Get out of here. Leave me alone.” I scowl and turn away from them, glaring at the stone still resting on my tail. 

“Suit yourself,” they say. “It was only a suggestion.” 

I look down at the sound of something solid bouncing towards me and hitting the rock. It’s… the other side of Statue Simon’s face. Wonderful. 

I carefully lift the piece and line it up with the matching half, instantly tearing up again at the completed image. They’re my way to him; I have to go.

“Wait,” I clear my throat, trying to dispel the raspiness in my voice. 

“Yes…?” They ask, turning around. 

“I’ll do it. I’ll go with you.” 

They share a not-at-all-conspicuous look and grin again, nodding for me to follow them. I set the pieces of the statue on the rock and follow, not stopping even after Fiona and Mordelia call after me.

“This way,” one of the eels says, leading me into the Mage’s lair. Great. 

I pass over the garden of those weird parasite-looking souls and cringe, trying to avoid touching any of them. 

Swimming to the entrance of the cavern, I avert my eyes from the ledge where the Mage is seated. 

“Yes, come in. Come in, my child. We mustn’t lurk in doorways–it’s rude. One might question your upbringing…” He laughs while I swim further into the room, giving me chills. “Now then, you’re here because you have this thing for this human. This–er– prince fellow.” 

I frown, wrapping my arms around myself and staring at my fins. 

“Not that I blame you; I mean he’s quite the catch, isn’t he?” Ugh, disgusting. I’m pretty sure that was the grossest thing he’s ever said to me. “Well, angel fish–” Never mind. That beats it. That definitely beats it. “–the solution to your problem is simple. The only way to get what you want…” 

He very slowly creeps out of the shadows, stopping when the dim light hits him. And wow, what a sore sight he is. Overall, he’s mostly the same (even has the goddamn Robin Hood accessories). In fact, not much has changed if you ignore the giant tentacles he has instead of legs. 

Because why not make this a horrifying visual that will surely haunt me for a few years? It’s not like I’ll be able to make eye contact with him again after this whole fiasco is over anyways.

“...is to become human yourself.” 

I force myself to look at him without getting sick. “You can do that?” 

“My dear, sweet child.” Barf. “That’s what I do. It’s what I live for. To help unfortunate merfolk, like yourself. Poor souls with no one else to turn to.” Well, I guess that last part checks out.

He moves around a cauldron type stand, grabbing bottles from a shelf as he talks. 

“Here’s the deal. I’ll make you a potion that will turn you into a human for three days. Got that? Three days.” I nod, approaching the cauldron and cautiously peeking inside.

“Now listen, this is important. Before the sun sets on the third day, you’ve got to get dear ol’ Princey to fall in love with you.” 

Ha. 

“That is,” the Mage continues. “He’s got to kiss you.” 

Ha.

“Not just any kiss—the kiss of true love.” 

Oh, he’s funny in this one. 

“If he does kiss you before the sun sets on the third day, you’ll remain human–permanently–but if he doesn’t, you turn back into a mermaid. And… you belong to me.” I shiver, but don’t back away. I really wish I didn’t need to do this.

“So, have we got a deal?” I take a deep breath.

“If I become human, I’ll never see my sister again.” If I don’t get out of this spell, I’ll never see my sister again. 

The Mage laughs patronizingly. “Well, that’s right. But… you’ll have your man. Life’s full o’ tough choices, innit?” I can’t help but agree. He laughs again. “Oh, and we haven’t discussed the subject of payment! You can’t get something from nothing, you know.” 

I frown. “I don’t have any–”

“–I’m not asking much,” he interrupts. “Just a token, really. A trifle. You’ll never even miss it!” 

I wrinkle my nose, remembering exactly what happens next.

“What I want from you is… your voice.” 

“My voice?” I’m curious to see how the movie would make this work. In the animation, the voice quite literally leaves her throat which makes sense for cartoons but… that’s not logically possible.

“You’ve got it, sweetcakes.” Nope. Nope. I’ve just barfed in my mouth a bit. Sometimes, I really hate how accurate this spell is. “No more talking, singing, zip.”

“But without my voice, how can I—”

“You have your looks! Your pretty face!” I move back a bit, severely uncomfortable. “And don’t underestimate the power of the body language, ha!” 

Okay, it got worse. I’m somehow so much more uncomfortable right now.

The Mage snaps his fingers, looking bored. “All right, now I’m going to need you to sign this here scroll for me.” 

“What sc—” I cut myself off when a golden sheet of paper appears next to me, as well as a quill. Sure, that’ll work underwater. Why not? 

I squeeze my eyes shut and sign the line at the bottom without reading a single word, knowing my father would be having a conniption if he could see me right now.

He throws some of the bottles into the cauldron and chants something in a language I’ve never heard while I watch with thinly-veiled panic. 

“Now,” he says after a while. “Sing.” 

Ah fuck. Sure. Great. 

Ignoring my embarrassment, I sing the little song Ariel did in the movie, praying he ends everything soon. I’m about to snap at him to hurry it up when something blocks my airway, cutting off my singing and breath. 

It stings for a second, then my entire throat feels painfully cold before the giant, wispy, hand-shaped obstruction leaves, carrying a glowing ball that I’d guess is my larynx.

I automatically reach for my throat as if I’d be able to physically feel the difference, then let out a silent scream when my lower half burns.  

I look down and gasp, choking on a mouthful of water. My tail is slowly splitting down the middle as I watch, head throbbing and vision spinning from the agonizing pain and lack of oxygen. 

I stupidly try to take another breath, swallowing more water and coughing as my nose stings. A thin arm wraps around my waist and something pulls at my hair, dragging me away from the cave in a blur. 

Finally, finally, I reach the surface and break through the waves, sucking in a massive breath of air and dropping to my knees in the shallow water. I collapse forward and push myself over with shaking arms, rolling onto my backside and sitting up. 

Slowly, I lift one leg (leg!) out of the water and bent it at the knee.

Oh. 

I reach up and touch my throat again when all I hear is a raspy wheeze. Right. Almost forgot I couldn’t speak for a second there. 

“Well, look what the catfish dragged in!” Ebb lands on my bent knee, making me flinch. I try to shout in surprise, but of course no sound comes out. “Look at ya! Look at ya! There’s somethin’ new. Don’t tell me—I got it. It’s your hairdo, right?” 

I laugh silently, shaking my head. 

“You’ve been using the dinglehopper, right? No? Huh, well let me see.” She taps her foot (talon?) for a second before jumping. “New… seashells?” I raise an eyebrow, causing her to wave a wing at me. “No new seashells. I gotta admit I can’t put my foot on it right now, but if I just stand here long enough I know that I’ll—”

“HE’S GOT LEGS, YOU IDIOT!” Fiona shouts from a nearby rock. I blink over at her, just now noticing her presence at all. “He traded his voice to the sea witch and got legs. Fucking Crowley, Petty.” I look to Ebb, who’s somehow sporting a fond grin even as a bird. 

“I knew that.”

I laugh silently as Fiona fumes.

“Baz’s been turned into a human. He’s gotta make the prince fall in love with him, and he’s gotta kiss him!” I blush as Ebb gives me an intrigued look, glancing at Mordelia. 

“He’s only got three days,” Fiona continues. “Just look at him! On legs! On human legs! My nerves are shot. I need alcohol.” She fans her face briefly before freezing. “This is a catastrophe! What would his father say? I’ll tell you what his father’d say, he’d say he’s gonna kill himself a bloody crab.” 

She paces back and forth on the rock, slowly getting more agitated as the others watch. 

“I’m gonna march straight home right now and tell him just like I should’a done the minute—”

I rush forward clumsily and pick her up, shaking my head. Please, no. Don’t take me back there.

“...and don’t you shake your head at me, young man. Maybe there’s still time. If we can make that sea witch give you back your voice, you could go home with all the normal fish, and just be…” I give her my most pathetic look, silently pleading with her. She glares at me, then shakes her head and looks away. “Just be… miserable for the rest of your life. All right, all right.”

Yes!

“I’ll help you find that prince. Boy, what a soft-shell I’m turning out to be.” I cheer some more with Mordelia while Ebb hops over. She teasingly taps Fiona on the head. 

“You’ve always been a soft-shell, Pitch. You just don’t like ’ta admit it!” 

“Bullshit.” 

“Now Baz,” Ebb continues, leaving Fiona sputtering. “I’m tellin’ ya, if you wanna be a human then the first thing you gotta do is dress like one.” I blink, looking down at the water where my lower half is hidden. Fiona snorts.

Yeah… 

“Now, lemme see…” She hops over to the shore and drags over what looks to be a large, tattered sail. I raise an eyebrow, hoping to clearly convey ‘how the fuck do you expect me to wear this’ with eye contact alone. 

Luckily, Ebb seems to understand. She just waves me off, then starts messing with a rope until it all cinches together to form a very crude skirt… thing… I guess that’s the best word for it. There’s a few random bunches of fabric secured awkwardly by the rope that really tie the whole “shipwrecked” look together. 

Long story short, Ebb should never go into the fashion industry.

I stand unsteadily, bracing myself on a nearby boulder, then slip into the makeshift clothes. 

Ugh. 

It itches in all of the wrong places, and the material is incredibly light in a way that sends shivers across my legs whenever the breeze hits it. And I can feel sand everywhere. 

Everywhere. 

“Wow, you look great, kid! You look absolutely sensational!” I wrinkle my nose and look at the skirt again, lightly tugging at the fabric. More sand sprinkles down and lands near my feet. 

“Max!” A familiar voice makes me look up, then shriek (silently, of course) when a massive dog starts chasing after me. 

Nope, nope, nope—

I sprint around a rock, then hop onto it when the dog continues to chase me. I’m not afraid of dogs by any means, but when a particularly large one is coming at me in a dead sprint I think my reaction is understandable. Once I’m sure I’m not going to fall over, I open my eyes. 

And scream. Silently. 

Simon grins, face mere inches from mine. 

“Baz!” And oh, he sounds so excited. I smile and open my mouth, then close it. Right.

“Oh, right. The voice thing.” I nod, relieved I don’t have to spell this one out for him. I suppose this tale (ha, tail) was pretty self-explanatory, though. We sit quietly for a moment before he clears his throat, offering me a hand down with a sheepish smile. Cute.

“Sorry, I just remembered you couldn’t respond.” I roll my eyes as he helps me climb off of the rock. Of course, my legs have lost all function and I pitch forward, bracing myself when Simon catches me. 

His hands immediately come to rest on my waist as he sets me down and I shiver again. Not the fucking time, you gay disaster. 

“Hey, uh. You probably want to get out of… that.” I blush and look down at the skirt as he helps me walk towards the castle, then nod. “I don’t blame you. Looks itchy.” 

Then, because he’s Simon Snow and his head is as dense as a fucking brick, he reaches out and lightly brushes my hip, wrinkling his nose (adorably. I hate him).

“Yep, definitely itchy.” I bite my cheek and pretend he’s not seconds away from making me collapse for an entirely new reason. (Swooning. Apparently I’m not below that. Not for Simon). 

He hums, helping me walk through the sand like I’m a useless toddler. I feel both charmed and degraded, something I’m starting to notice is a common occurrence in this spell. Wow, Bunce, just can’t give up the nonstop embarrassment, can ya? 

“You know, it’s sorta weird being the only one of us talking. Your insults are surprisingly good at keeping up a conversation.” I look up at him, then tug at his sleeve when he doesn’t notice. He blinks and turns to me.

“Hm?” I raise an eyebrow, then glare at him. 

Bold of you to assume I can’t manage a simple interaction without words. I’m Tyrannus Basilton Grimm-Pitch, god dammit! I can do anything I fucking please.

He laughs loudly, throwing his head back. “Okay, yeah. I guess you can still get your point across without words, huh?” 

I get flashback to the Mage and his fucking ‘don’t underestimate the power of the body language’ and try to not outwardly gag. 

“Well, I suppose I can fill in the gaps. Hmm…” He squints down at me (down. Again.) and puts on a weird pouty, broody face. Is this motherfucker supposed to be impersonating me—

“Snow, you’re an idiot,” he says in what is possibly the worst impression of my voice I’ve ever heard. I mean, I haven’t heard many impressions, of course. But holy shit. He somehow managed to miss the almost-nonexistent bar, which was currently placed by Mordelia when she was being particularly pissy towards me.

(‘oh look, I’m Baz, I’m all fancy and stuff and I don’t do silly things like chores because I’m Baz and I’m too cool for chores—”)

“HA! That’s your ‘Snow, you’re an idiot’ face! I’m successful!” He throws a fist in the air in triumph and I hide a smile, shaking my head. 

“You’re ridiculous.” My eyes widen and I reach up to touch my throat, before turning to Simon. For a second I thought I had spoken out loud before realizing that wasn’t possible.

Simon gives me a shit-eating grin. “I got it that time too, didn’t I?” 

I huff, looking away. 

“You wish.” I glare at him. 

“Stop that.” 

“Stop that.” 

“Snow, I swear—” 

I slap a hand over his mouth, trying to push down a smile when he starts laughing.

“I’d say I’m a pretty good translator, no?” I roll my eyes again, shaking my head.“ ...You’re an idiot.”

Chapter Text

Simon

Baz takes forever in the bath. 

I know this shouldn’t be surprising, seeing as we’ve been living together for the past eight years, but dear god. 

I mean, there aren’t really clocks here, so I can’t be 100% certain, but I’m pretty sure it’s been literal hours since he disappeared behind the doors to the washroom and he hasn’t been seen since. 

“Is something wrong?” I pause (when did I start pacing?) and look at Nico. He gives me his ever present deadpan stare. 

“Wh-No, no I’m fine. It’s just…” I turn in the direction of the bathrooms again, even though we’re on the other side of the castle. “He’s been in there a while, yeah?” 

“Aww, you worried?” Nico mock-pouts, then smiles cruelly. “I’m sure he’s fine. But if it’s really gonna bug you, I say go check up on him.” 

I perk up. Why didn’t I think of that? “That’s a great idea!” He sputters as I start towards the door. 

“Hey, hey, kid! Slow down! I was joking.” 

I stop, hand on the doorknob. “What? Why not?” He rolls his eyes. 

“Oh, I don’t know. Maybe because baths usually require a lack of clothing, and while you guys seem to have started to get along throughout this whole spell thing, I’m pretty sure you’re not quite that close.” 

Oh. Right. 

I feel my face burn in realization and embarrassment as I stare dumbly at the door. I… did not think this through.

I turn around, walk stiffly back to the ridiculously long dining room table, and sit.

And wait.

And… wait.

And wait some more. 

“You’re fidgeting.” Nico rubs his temples, scowling at me from his seat. I bite my lip and shove my hands under my legs.

“Sorry.” 

We sit in awkward silence. I try to stay still, but come on. How long does one guy need in the bloody bath anyways?!

“Maybe I should—”

“No.” Nico interrupts me before I even finish my sentence, not bothering to look up at me. 

I sigh, dropping my chin into my hands. The dining room area is huge and expensive-looking, with a super long table down the middle. It’s sort of overwhelming. 

At least the entire wall to my left is made up of one big window. It’s nice, watching the waves from far away. 

Very, very far away.

That boating trip Aggie’s dad invited me on doesn’t seem so fun anymore. 

A knock at the door startles Nico and I, both of our heads dropping from our hands before popping back up to look expectantly at the door. 

Finally.

Slowly, like… ridiculously slowly… the door opens, revealing Baz in a pink and white suit standing next to a sweet looking woman. 

The woman gestures for him to move forward, and he visibly takes a deep breath before stepping further into the light. 

I feel myself rise to my feet almost instantly, staring at him with wide eyes. He looks down at the suit and shrugs shyly, pulling at the sleeves lightly. 

The suit is much… softer… than I’m used to seeing him in. There aren’t many sharp edges like his usual clothing, and the fabric makes his hair look even darker in contrast. He tucks a strand behind his ear and I track the movement with a little too much focus.

I still want to touch his hair again. Is that weird? That’s weird. 

Is it? 

He makes eye contact with me and I watch in a half-daze as his cheeks turn a color similar to the clothes. 

“You look good—great. You look great.” I clear my throat, shaking my head. Stupid.

He smiles softly and nods his head and I think about how Baz would never smile at me like that one week ago and I’m not entirely sure why we’ve been doing this whole rivalry thing if I could have looks like that directed at me every day and—

“Are you two gonna sit down or keep making eyes at each other, cuz’ I’m hungry but I’m quickly losing my appetite.” 

Baz turned to Nico with a scowl and opened his mouth before snapping it shut and exhaling sharply. 

Oh, right. No talking.

“What’s the matter, cat got your tongue?” Nico croons, resting his head on his fist. I give him a warning glare, all too familiar with the look starting to form on Baz’s face. I’ve been on the receiving end of it too many times to not recognize the tension in his eyebrows and the slight clenching of his jaw. 

Nico must be an idiot though, because he keeps taunting Baz. I don’t really process what he says; I’m too busy watching Baz slowly look more and more murderous. Oh no.

“Oh, come on. No need for the silent tre-AY—”

In less than a second I’m behind Baz, arms wrapping tightly around his waist as he launches himself at Nico. He snarls as he tries to push forward but I dig my heels into the ground and hold tighter. 

“Baz! Calm down!” He tugs against me again and I pull him into my chest. “Hey, hey. Breathe. There you go…” He collapses against me, still glaring at Nico. 

I press my nose into his hair (it still smells like the beach. It’s not bad, but I think I prefer his normal shampoo) and very, very slowly let my hold around him loosen. He pushes back into me further, then tips his head back to glare at me. 

I release him with one arm to flick his nose, laughing when he wrinkles it. 

“Easy, tiger shark.” His eyebrows furrow and I laugh again. “Get it? Like, ‘easy tiger’, but shark because it’s The Little Mermaid? And a tiger shark—” 

“Shut up. Just listening to this is melting my brain cells.” I stick my tongue out at Nico and look down at Baz, who looks very unimpressed with my brilliance as well. 

“Tough crowd.” 

“If you’re all quite finished,” the woman from earlier clears her throat, startling us all. “I believe dinner is ready.” She huffs and turns around, allowing us a moment to get seated while she assumedly finds servants to bring in the food. 

I jerk away from Baz, face burning as I take my seat at the head of the table. Baz quickly follows, sitting to my immediate left. 

“So…” Nico starts, then trails off. 

“So…” I repeat, and quickly glance over at Baz. He nods slowly, staring up at the ceiling and tapping his fingers against the wooden tabletop. 

Nico scoffs, then pulls out a pipe. I look over to Baz, wary when I see the smirk growing on his face as he stares at the item. 

“Do you smoke?” Nico asks, noticing his interest. I try to give him a subtle head shake, a sign to not trust that fucking smirk because I know damn well that it’s not going to end well. 

Baz nods quickly, putting on an innocent look that Nico should really be able to see through, because it’s like Baz isn’t even trying to be subtle, right? 

Baz holds his hands out, then grins manically when Nico hands it over. 

Oh no…

Baz holds it up to his lips, glances over to wink at me, then blows into it as hard as he can. 

There it is.

“Why-You little-I can’t believe—” Nico sputters, wiping soot off of his face. I slap my hands over my face to hide the laugh building in my chest, which is extremely difficult when Baz has no reservations and is silently cackling in his seat. 

I bite my lip and wince, glancing over at Nico. Instead of the animosity I’m expecting, he looks like he’s fighting back a smile himself. What..?

“Hilarious.” He deadpans, and Baz certainly seems to agree when he starts wiping his face with a napkin. 

“I don’t think I even want to know what just happened.” The woman from earlier appears again, this time with two servants in tow. 

Nico surprisingly lets out a snort. “Most likely not, no.” 

I trade a look with Baz, who looks all too smug. He smiles genuinely at me for a second before turning his attention to the woman, leaving me reeling. Get. It.Together. 

“Tonight’s meal is stuffed crab, prepared by our very own chef.” She rounds the table, stopping at my side. I smile up at her and she lightly rests her hand on my shoulder, giving me a wink. 

“I’m glad to see you look so happy, your Highness,” she whispers, glancing over at Baz. I follow her eyes and feel something warm in my chest as Baz jokingly tosses his napkin to a still-sooty Nico, smiling brightly. “He’s good for you.” 

I nod. “Too good.” 

Baz turns to us, giving me a confused look. I shrug, then shake my head. The woman (I really should ask for a name) pats my shoulder once before leaving the room. 

“You know, perhaps our guest might enjoy a tour of the kingdom?” Nico not-so-subtly suggests after a few minutes in comfortable silence. I turn to Baz. 

“Would you? It could be fun, like that one day in Hercules!” He nods, hesitant at first before more certain. A light blush covers his cheeks and I smile to myself. 

“Splendid. I’ll arrange for a day trip at once,” Nico says, gesturing to a nearby servant. I raise my eyebrows at him. 

“You’re being awfully nice.” 

He waves me off, lifting the dome thing over his plate. “Nonsense. I just want the castle to myself tomorrow and I found a way to get the two most annoying people out for a day.” 

I scoff, catching Baz rolling his eyes. “That’s terribly rude. I could have you fired for that.” 

He raises his glass to his lips, clearly smirking. “I dare you.” 

I don’t have time to respond before a small clang is heard from near Baz, his hand hovering suspiciously near the dome lid of his plate. Oh right. The crab. 

“What the fuck happened to my crab?” I don’t even bother trying to hide my laugh at Nico’s outburst, collapsing back into my chair. I can hear quiet wheezes from Baz that show him in a similar position. 

Yeah. This one’s gonna be a breeze.

Baz

Dinner was… a ride. 

It’s much later now, and I’m finally alone in a palace guest room. Just being in Simon’s presence was painful. I spent the entire time stopping myself from doing something impulsive like trying to touch his god-forsaken curls or hold his hand. It’s never been this difficult before, to control myself.

It’s absolutely terrifying.

It took all of my strength to not completely melt back into him when he stopped me from killing Nico (who turned out to be not-half bad at holding an interesting conversation). I’m going soft and I can’t tell if it’s a good or bad thing quite yet. 

“Come here, Max!” I turn to the window and carefully pull the curtain aside, fighting a smile when I see Simon playing with that blasted dog. 

He runs around the grounds below, laughing like there’s not a single trouble in his mind. Knowing him, there probably isn’t.

He pauses, then turns around and looks up at the window, grinning. I slowly raise a hand and wave, then sigh a little when he returns it immediately. After a few seconds I close the curtain and cross the room to flop back onto the bed. 

Merlin, I’m so fucking gay. 

“You have no idea how much shit I went through today to cover your ass. I hope you can spare some gratitude, you brat.” I crack one eye open and smirk at Fiona, who’s glaring at me from the dresser near the bed as she wipes flour off of her shell. 

“Now, we just gotta get the other idiot to plant a good one on ya. I propose we…” I smile softly, letting her plotting lure me into a deep, dreamless sleep. 

I’m out in seconds. 

***

“WAKE UP!” 

I jerk up into a seated position, letting out a silent shout. Fiona cackles and I turn to glare at her. 

“Ha, your bedhead is fuckin priceless.” 

Sniffing, I drop back onto the pillows and turn away from her. Not pouting. Shut up.

“Yeah, yeah. I’m all mean and you’re just a helpless victim etc etc. We have shit to do today.” She pulls the blanket off of me (how she managed that in her tiny form, I’ll never know) and tugs at one of my fingers until I sigh heavily, crawling out of the warm bed. 

“Attaboy!” I roll my eyes, silently mocking her as I make my way towards the walk-in closet. Vera (at least, this world’s Vera) told me my clothes would be in there when I woke up as she walked me to the dining room last night. 

You’ve got to be shitting me. 

…Is what I would have said, if I had a voice. Instead, I just gaped at the only item in the whole fucking closet. 

A dress. Because of course it would be a dress. 

It looks like the one from the movie (which is to be expected), with the light long sleeve blouse thing, black—oh Merlin is that a corset?— and a blue skirt. 

“Hey, why’re ya just standing he—HA.” Fiona makes her way over to the dress and cackles a bit, tugging at the long skirt. “Oh, this is perfect.” 

I turn to her and glare, shaking my head incredulously. How is this perfect?

Fiona rolls her eyes. “You’ll look hot, which will make Snow want to kiss you.” I wrinkle my nose and ignore the blush spreading across my cheeks. 

Surely she’s joking…

“Here, I’ll help ya put it on. Not like you have any other options, eh?” I scoff, then begrudgingly nod. 

I suppose I don’t have a choice, do I? 

Cut to about ten minutes and three one-sided arguments later and you’ve got me in a bloody dress. 

Because sure, why the fuck not. 

The corset piece sucks major ass, but apparently it looks acceptable if Fiona’s whistle of approval means anything. 

“Lookin good, kid. I’d ask you to take a picture of Snow’s face but cameras don’t exist here.” I give her a look that I hope expresses my complete and utter exhaustion with her. 

“Don’t give me that, here. C’mon, there’s a mirror in the other room.” She walks (crawls?) out of the closet and leads me to a standing mirror. 

Oh. Okay then. 

I turn from side to side, watching the skirt follow the movements. This is... interesting. 

“All right, but we’ve got to do something about that hair.” 

I roll my eyes but follow her to the vanity dresser, sitting in the cushioned chair situated in front of it. 

My reflection stares back at me through the mirror, a slightly comical sight with my messy hair. 

“Oh, damn it all. I can’t do anything when I’m this small.” Fiona paces across the dresser before shaking her head. I give her a deadpan look, which she waves off. “I know you can do it yourself, but I know someone who could definitely do it better. Call Vera.” 

I gape, half offended. Also; just… call Vera? Without a voice?

Fiona looks at me like I’m an idiot. Like I’m Simon.

“This is fairy tale world,” she says slowly, like she’s explaining this to Swithin. “You’re in a castle. Just ring that bell.” I look at where she gestures and nearly facepalm. 

Near the door, a long hanging rope sits innocently in the corner. I stand and walk over, hesitantly pulling on the cord. A very, very distant bell goes off somewhere in the palace and I make my way back over to the seat, tapping my fingers on the skirt. 

A knock sounds at the door not even a minute later and Vera lets herself in. Immediately upon seeing me, she rolls her eyes fondly and walks over, taking her place behind me. Fiona sniffs from where she’s hiding under the bed. 

“Brush, please?” I reach into one of the drawers and pull out the brush, handing it to her. “Thank you.” 

I sit quietly while she hums, gently brushing away the knots. After a few minutes she squints at my reflection, then reaches over my shoulder to grab a large ribbon. She portions off half of my hair and pulls it up into a loose ponytail, tying it off with the ribbon in a bow. 

Okay. This is fine. 

“All right, can I get you anything else?” I watch my reflection as I shake my head. She places her hands on my shoulders and makes eye contact through the mirror, smiling softly. 

“You’re going to have a lovely time, okay?” I nod, hoping she can see how grateful I am. She pats my shoulders once before leaving with a warning to be at the castle entrance in ten minutes.

I slowly exhale, leaning back in the chair until I’m staring at the ceiling. 

You can do this. It’s just a fun outing. Not a date. Don’t think of this as a date. 

“Uh. I think you should get moving if ya wanna make it.” I sigh, rolling my head over to look at Fiona. She rolls her eyes as I aim my best deadpan expression at her and crawls up my clothes until she reaches my shoulder.

“Don’t give me that.” She lightly pinches my ear, making me swipe at her. “You’re gonna have fun, just relax. You deserve a break.” 

I try not to smile, shaking my head and setting her on the vanity counter.

‘Thank you,’ I mouth. She waves me off. 

“Ah, just get out of here. And kiss him, while you’re at it!” 

Simon

He’s late. 

I’m not worried, but it’s the first time he’s ever been late to something (other than the first few months of this school year).

Hm. 

BUT! I definitely will gloat about it, just to be petty. 

Footsteps sound from the grand staircase behind me so I turn around, a smug smile already in place. 

It slips off of my face and turns into a gape the second my eyes land on Baz. 

He’s… He’s in a dress. Or a skirt, or something. But. Still. 

It’s blue, and it makes the blue in his gray eyes stand out even from a distance. The skirt part sways around his ankles with every step, and his hair is half-pulled up by what looks like a big bow. 

I think you could probably hear a giant buffering sound going off in my brain right now. 

I blink quickly, shaking my head. Get it together.

He absently reaches up and tucks some hair behind his ear and I’m gone again. This never happened with Agatha…?

“You’re drooling.” I snap out of my thoughts, instantly raising a hand to swipe at my face. Only when I hear Nico cackling do I realize he was joking. 

I scowl at him, then squeak when I turn back and see Baz standing a foot away from me. 

He smiles shyly, rocking back on his feet and interlocking his fingers in front of himself. 

“I–You–You look great.” He wrinkles his nose and tugs at the dress, giving me a look that says “really?” 

I nod emphatically. “Yes! I mean, it’s very… different then what you usually wear but… It’s nice, too.” He smiles genuinely at me and nods once in what I take to be a thanks.

“You guys gonna… go?” We both turn and blink at Nico, who looks decidedly unimpressed. He turns to Baz, gives him a quick once-over, then nods. “Not bad, kid.” Understatement, much? “Now leave.” 

He practically shoes us out the doors. I laugh to myself, then turn to Baz and cheekily offer an elbow. He gives me a sly smile before sliding his arm around mine, then falls into step with me as we walk to the carriage. 

“Careful, don’t trip.” I give him a hand and help him into the carriage before climbing in myself. I reach for the reins and he curls his hands in his lap anxiously. I look up at his face, then follow his nervous glance down to my own hands. 

He gives me a look that seems a little too doubtful of my nonexistent carriage driving skills and I scoff, waving him off. 

“Trust me, I know what I’m doing.” He raises an eyebrow, then holds a hand out as if to say “ go ahead then.” I sniff, roll my shoulders, then turn and face the horse pulling the carriage. 

“Move please.” Baz lets out a choked wheezing sound and I grin. “Worth a sh—”

I’m cut off by the jerking of the carriage as the horse starts walking down the castle drive. 

“Oh.” Baz looks equally as stunned. We sit for what has to be half of the ride in a sort of surprised stupor, the reins completely limp in my hands. Then I shake my head and set the reins down. 

Baz blinks, then looks out at the surrounding woods. He leans his elbow on the side of the carriage and rests his chin on his fist, sighing peacefully. 

“Beautiful,” I hear myself say after what is probably a minute of open staring. He startles, turning to me with red cheeks. I feel my own face burn and I quickly turn to the road. “The—uh, town.” He blinks a few times before looking out at the city, which is just down the hill we’re on. It really is beautiful in a quaint, small village way. 

(Still doesn’t compare to Baz, I’ll finally let myself admit.)

The carriage stops moving and I clear my throat, ignoring Baz’s stare that hasn’t really left since I opened my big mouth a minute ago. “All right. Here we are then.” 

I hop out and help him down again. This is fine. This is fine. This is—

His eyes light up at something behind me and he starts moving towards it, dragging me along behind him. We’re still holding hands. We’re still holding hands and I sort of never want it to stop and is this normal? I feel like this isn’t normal? 

He beams at me over his shoulder and my knees go a little weak. What’s wrong with me?

I look over his shoulder and laugh to myself. Of course. 

Across the city square is a small band, and Baz is completely absorbed in the violinist. The musician looks to be around twenty, and she’s playing an upbeat song with the rest of the players. 

Slowly, with more hesitance than I’d usually associate with Baz, he approaches the band and watches with the crowd as they finish their song. They all put their instruments down and announce that they’re taking a short break. 

The crowd disperses a bit, still hanging near but checking out the other shops around the square. Baz pulls me over to a stand with little charms, then releases my hand to look closer at one. 

I watch him for a second before glancing over my shoulder at the violinist. She’s taking a drink, sitting on a nearby stool. Perfect. 

I carefully pull away from Baz, then rush towards the violinist while he’s distracted. She gives me a confused smile, standing. 

“Uh, can I help you, your Highness?” Her voice is very high pitched. I smile awkwardly. 

“Hi. Sorry, I don’t want to bother you, but…” I scratch at the back of my head and laugh to myself. She waves me off, smiling.

“Nah, it’s fine! What’d’ya need?” 

I force myself to make eye contact with her. “Um. My… friend, over there. He loves playing his own violin, but he hasn’t really had a chance for a while now due to reasons that would take way too long to explain.” I laugh nervously. “He saw you playing and looked so excited, and I just–It’s totally cool if you just tell me to screw right off, but I thought it wouldn’t hurt to ask so…” 

She smiles, looking over at Baz. I turn and make eye contact with him. He frowns, then starts making his way over. Quickly, I face the woman again. 

“Uh—” She holds a hand up. 

“Don’t, it’s all right. Your friend,”  she winks at me, “can use my violin while we take our break as long as he takes care of it.” Baz finally reaches us, and I grin at him. He raises an eyebrow. 

“Heeeeeey yoooouuuuu.” I poke his shoulder and he raises it higher, crossing his arms. I look back at the woman, who’s watching with an amused smile. She bends down and picks up the violin and bow, then holds them out to Baz. 

He blinks, looking between me and the woman. I give him an encouraging smile and nudge my head towards her. He frowns, biting his lip. 

“It’s okay. He asked very politely and said you played, so why not? The square’s too quiet without music but we’ve been playing for a while now and we’re hungry.” She laughs lightly, then pushes the instrument closer. 

“Do it,” I whisper, smiling wider as I watch his resolve crumble. Yes! 

He slowly reaches forward and takes the instrument, then immediately all of the hesitation vanishes. An excited smile crosses his face and he places the violin under his chin, instantly messing with the tuning pegs. 

The woman laughs at his enthusiasm before giving me a wink. 

“I’m gonna go get something to eat, if that’s all right.” I nod.

“Thank you, again.” She waves me off, already walking away. 

A long, low note brings me back to Baz. He has his eyes closed as he starts some song I haven’t heard before. His fingers move along the strings quickly as he plays, sometimes nearly seeming to blur as the song gets faster. 

He sighs, then the song picks up and he sways, smiling wider than I think I’ve ever seen. 

How could I have ever hated him? How could I have possibly imagined him to be a monster?

I look over my shoulder and see the crowd forming again, all watching in awe as he plays. I step back a bit to allow him to be seen better, then watch as his face smooths out completely for the first time since we’ve been in this spell. 

I want to kiss him. 

The thought is surprising, but no longer unwelcome or unfamiliar. I’m slowly starting to accept that what I feel for Baz isn’t going away any time soon, nor is it something I want to go away. 

This is something that is becoming very clear to me as I watch him. He finishes the song with his eyes still closed and a smile that makes him look like he couldn’t possibly be more at peace than he is at this moment. 

All is still for a second before the crowd starts cheering, startling Baz out of whatever daze he was in. He blinks, then steps back when he sees the crowd with a blush. 

I huff out a laugh and step forward, smiling at him. 

“That was amazing,” I say when he sees me. He carefully sets the violin back in its case and  moves closer to me, then wraps his arms around my shoulders and pulls me into a hug. 

I gape for a second, then hold him back, letting my face drop to his hair. After a second he pulls back, still holding my shoulders, and bumps our foreheads together. I look into his eyes and smile softly.

‘Thank you,’ he mouths. I shake my head. 

“Don’t. It was nothing.” He shakes his head right back, furrowing his eyebrows. 

‘Really. Thank you.’ 

I laugh. “Okay, fine. You’re welcome.” He smiles at me, then backs away. I pretend I’m not disappointed. 

“That. Was. AMAZING!” The violinist appears out of nowhere, holding a baguette. I step away, watching Baz silently get flustered at the compliments. It’s funny; I never expected him of all people to be embarrassed by praise. 

“Man, you’re so good! Where’d you learn?” He opens his mouth and starts… speaking? trying to speak, but then freezes and huffs angrily, pointing apologetically at his throat. The woman nods, smiling understandingly.

“Lost your voice? Major bummer.” She shrugs, then her eyes catch something over his shoulder. “Ah! The band’s ready to get going again, so I gotta go. It was awesome talking to you though!” She smiles at both of us before running over to the other musicians. 

Baz looks at me again and silently groans, dragging his hands down his face roughly. I laugh and step forward, grabbing his wrists and holding them between us. 

“She wasn’t lying, you know. You were amazing.” He turns red, turning his head away from me. Cute. 

He shakes his head and looks back to me before tugging me away from the musicians. 

“Okay, okay,” I laugh. “No more compliments. For now.” He glares half-heartedly at me and adjusts his grip until he’s just holding one of my hands and walking beside me. 

I try to not freak out. (I’m pretty sure I fail).

We walk past a lot of small shops and windows, including the charm one. He slows as we pass it, clearly trying to subtly look at one in particular. It looks like a… oh. 

It’s a small, black tiger, and the small details make it look almost identical to the one from Aladdin that nearly ate me.

I purse my lips as I get an idea and tug at his hand to get him to look at me. 

“Hey, let’s get something to eat, yeah?” He nods and we buy some bread like the woman had earlier. 

“I’ll be right back, okay?” He nods absently, too busy staring critically at a (terrible) puppet show. 

I rush across the square and place a coin onto the table, startling the employee. 

“I’ll take the tiger, please.”

Chapter Text

Simon

I forgot about the boat scene.

It didn’t even cross my mind until we passed a rental dock area and Baz pulled me over with an excited smile, and by then I couldn’t even say no. 

Curse my stupid feelings.

I give the rental person money and help Baz into the boat, then stand at the edge of the dock for a good minute, pathetically trying to hype myself up. 

It’s just a tiny row boat with Baz, in shallow water with absolutely no clouds in the sky. Calm your shit.

A pale hand reaches out and taps my boot. I look down at Baz and he gives me an encouraging smile. 

He tilts his head, silently asking if I’m okay. 

You’re being ridiculous. 

I shake my head to clear it, then climb into the boat. Baz and I tip as the boat rocks, then laugh when it settles. I sigh nervously. 

This is fine. 

He puts a hand on my arm, giving me a questioning look. I smile tightly and nod, then grab the oars and row us away. We follow the small river down to a lagoon area, passing through drooping willow trees and stopping in the center of an enclosed dome of the hanging branches.

I look around at the water, shining with small cracks of light from the setting sun through the leaves. It’s beautiful, seeing all of the colors reflecting on the lake. 

God-awful screeching makes Baz and I flinch, whipping around to stare at… a seagull? 

Wait… I recognize that voice. 

Baz drops his head into his hands, clearly implying that he would be groaning if he had a voice. I snort, bumping our legs together to make him look up. 

“So, Ebb’s the bird?” He gives me a pained look, nodding. Something (most likely whoever plays the crab) cuts off Ebb’s singing with a choking sound and I let out a loud laugh. 

“Who’s the crab?” Baz glares at me, like he can’t believe I would actually have the audacity to ask him that. 

‘Guess,’ he mouths, and I put on an exaggerated thinking face just to irritate him. 

“Hmm, one of your siblings?” He shakes his head.

“Dev?” Another head shake.

“...your father?” He sticks his tongue out and leans back, shaking his head. 

“It’s me, motherfucker.” I yelp, then turn just in time to see a small crab drop into the water.

“Fiona?!” I ask in a strangled voice. Baz presses his lips together like he’s trying not to laugh and nods. 

“Of course,” I tug at my hair, huffing out a laugh. “Of course, that makes perfect sense.” I freeze when I remember something from the previous night. 

“Wait, was Nico going to eat Fiona–” 

“There, you see… him.” 

Baz and I blink at each other, confirming that we didn’t just imagine Fiona’s overly-dramatic singing voice.

“Sitting there across the way.” 

Baz’s hands slap loudly against his face again and I sympathetically pat his arm. 

“S-He, fuck. HE don’t got a lot to say, but there’s something about he-him. Dammit.” 

“You know you can just sing the original words, we won’t be offended,” I call out, hoping Fiona hears me from wherever she’s hiding. 

“Fuck off, I’ll do what I want,” she yells from somewhere, then, “And you don’t know why, but you’re dyin’ to try, you wanna kiss the guy. Go fuck yourself, Snow.” 

“Love you too, Fiona.” 

Baz’s shoulders are shaking from the force of his laughter as his face remains hidden in his hands. I smile, leaning back on my hands to watch him.

“Yes, you want heeeeim. Fuck off, look at her you know you do. HIM. Possible he wants you too; there is one way to ask him.” 

Baz peeks up at me through his fingers and smiles apologetically. I shake my head, laughing as Fiona continues. 

“It don’t take a word, not a single word. Go on and kiss the guy.” 

A beat of silence, then a quiet “shit, okay.” 

“Shalalalalala my oh my!” Somehow, she finds an entire chorus and they join her for the next part. Baz pulls his hands away and smiles at me, laughing to himself. 

“Looks like the boy’s too shy, ain’t gonna kiss the guy! Shalalalalala ain’t that sad? Ain’t it a shame, too bad. He’s gonna miss the guy.” 

The music fades (when were instruments introduced?) for a minute, then starts up again with just Fiona singing. 

“Now’s your moment, sitting in the blue lagoon. Boy you better do it soon, no time will be better.” 

I mean, she’s not wrong. 

“He don’t say a word, and he won’t say a word, until you kiss the guy. Wait, word and guy don’t rhyme—ah fuck it I don’t care anymore—SHALALALALALA DON’T BE SCARED!”

Baz and I share a brief look of fond exasperation as Fiona screams, then is drowned out by the rest of the chorus. The air around us is suddenly filled with hundreds of bright, shining lights that bounce around to the beat of the music.

“You got the mood prepared! Go on and kiss the guy! Shalalalalala don’t stop now, don’t try to hide it, how you wanna kiss the guy.” 

I snort, then blink when I look at Baz. He’s staring at the lights as they dance across the water, nose wrinkling as he laughs. 

He’s breathtaking, and in this moment I can’t remember a time when I’ve looked at him without feeling like my heart is seconds away from exploding from my chest, like my face is tingling from smiling too wide, like my stomach’s trying to float out of my body. How have I not always been completely taken by him?

“Shalalalalala float along and listen to the song! The song say kiss the guy!” 

Baz glances at me, still grinning, then blinks when he sees me staring. He furrows his eyebrows, giving me a confused smile. 

“Shalalalalala the music play! Do what the music say! You got to kiss the guy.” 

We both lean forward slowly, almost subconsciously, and Baz watches me from under his eyelashes.

“You’ve got to kiss the guy.”

My eyes start to slide closed as our noses brush and I sigh shakily when I feel Baz’s fingers hesitantly tangle with mine. 

“You wanna kiss the guy.” 

I pause, just before the space is fully closed. “Wait.” 

“You’ve gotta kiss the guy.”

He blinks at me, clearly confused. I smile sheepishly. 

“Are you okay with this? I know you said you needed time, I just wanted to make sure you were comfortable with all of th—”

I’m shut up by Baz rolling his eyes fondly and smiling as he reaches up and tilts my chin down, slowly leaning in to make sure I know he’s very aware of what’s happening and he’s more than okay with it. 

I sigh in relief and follow his lead, anticipation building as I feel his breath against my lips. 

SPLASH. 

Everything goes silent as we’re submerged under the water and I kick my feet around as I try to find the floor. 

Where is it, why can’t I feel it? Why can’t I feel the ground? I thought the water was supposed to be shallow here—

A hand wraps around my arm and drags me upwards until my head is out of the water. I splash around for a second until I’m able to keep myself slightly afloat. 

The hand moves to my face and lightly brushes my hair away from my eyes. I blink a few times, then sigh in relief when I see Baz.

He rests his palm against my cheek and gives me a worried look. I shake my head, shaking from the cold and residing fear. 

“M’ fine.” My voice is scratchy, and he only looks more concerned. “I thought the water was shallow here,” I gasp, staring down at the water as I kick my legs, hitting nothing but open water. Baz follows my gaze and shrugs, slicking his hair back like he does when he gets out of the shower at Watford. Dammit.

“Guess not.” He presses his lips together with furrowed eyebrows and swims closer to me. 

‘You okay?’ he mouths. I nod, giving him my best smile. And I am, at least with him close. He’s cold as usual, yes, but he’s warmer than the water so I find myself pushing further into his space. 

“Thank you.” He bumps my chin up to look at him and shakes his head, giving me a small smile. 

I clear my throat and try to gather my thoughts. I’m trying to ignore the water pushing against my body from my neck down. A drop runs down my nose from my hair and I shake my head roughly to try to throw some of the water out of it. 

Baz huffs, glaring at me playfully as he gets sprayed. I smile sheepishly and laugh. 

“My bad.” He rolls his eyes and smirks, then swipes at the water, sending a small stream at my face. 

I let out an offended cry and splash at him harder, soaking his entire face. He pushes more water at me, then backs away, laughing silently as it gets in my mouth. 

I spit it out while laughing, then leap at him, wrapping my legs around his waist to cling to him as I mess up his hair, un-plastering it from its slicked-back style. 

He gapes at me, staring up at me with wide, surprised eyes. I smile triumphantly at my work. Now his hair is curly and wild as it hangs in his face, no longer making him look so severe and cold. 

He wrinkles his nose as a strand falls in front of his eyes and I immediately push it out of the way. My legs release their hold on him and I swim back a bit, loudly laughing as he glares at me through the curls that fall back into his eyes. 

I bite my lip and swim further back when he starts to creep closer, then screech loudly when he tackles me, wrapping an arm around my neck to hold me in place while he rubs his knuckles into my head. 

“MERCY! MERCY, PLEASE!” I shriek, laughing as he stops, moving his hands to my shoulders. We just stare at each other for a moment, treading water and grinning like idiots. We start leaning towards each other again, eyes just starting to close. 

Then Baz’s eyes go wide with fear and he pushes me away from him. 

“Wha..?” I frown as he starts thrashing around, silent cries coming out in choked wheezes as he struggles with… something… underwater. 

I hurry forward and reach for him, but just before my hand can grab his hand, something below drags him underwater so fast I barely process it. 

What the FUCK—

I blink for a second, then take a massive breath and dive under the water, squinting against the dark water. My eyes burn with my lungs the deeper I go, but eventually I see something flailing around and swim as fast as I can towards it, ignoring the flashes of imaginary lightning in my peripheral vision. 

It’s just your imagination, it’s not real, Baz is more important, get to Baz, help Baz—

I squint harder when I see a second figure, then nearly choke on a mouthful of water when I see who it is. 

The Mage appears to be some sort of squid-person, and one of his tentacle things is wrapped around Baz as he sluggishly fights against the hold. 

I think the fuck not.

The Mage looks up at me and grins wickedly, then pulls Baz closer and says something to him before releasing him. 

A few bubbles rise from Baz’s mouth as he floats limply in the water and I rush towards him, ignoring the Mage as he sinks into the shadows with a dark laugh.

I slide my arms around his waist and drag him up to the surface, kicking my legs as hard as I can despite the painful burning that comes with every movement. 

I’m not sure how long it takes until I break the surface and drag us over to the small outer bank of the lagoon, laying Baz down carefully before coughing up a mouthful of water.

I hear a wet wheezing sound and turn my head slowly over to Baz, feeling like my ears are stuffed with cotton.

He’s lying on his back, eyes closed and hair plastered to his face as he gasps. I pull myself closer and sniff wetly, reaching a trembling hand to push some of his hair out of his eyes. 

He huffs out a weak, shaking laugh without opening his eyes and shudders. I wait for him to catch his breath before speaking. 

“What, uh, what was that?” He sniffs, finally opening his eyes to look at me. I’m surprised to see tears forming, even as he smiles. 

“Hey, what’s wrong? Are you okay? He didn’t hurt you, right?” I instantly start panicking when his eyes close again, but he blinks and shakes his head, raising a shaky thumbs up. 

I collapse in relief down next to him, my arms too weak to hold me up any longer. “Thank Merlin.” He sighs shakily, then rolls over to face me. 

I tip my head, scanning his face for any sign of hidden pain. We’re so close that our noses are nearly touching, but the mood is entirely ruined. We’re soaked, exhausted, freezing, and the Mage is likely hiding out just under the water next to us, watching and waiting for either to do something he doesn’t like. 

“Well,” I croak. “One of us has to swim out there and get the boat.” Baz shivers violently and tucks himself into my side, clinging to my top and shaking his head. 

“Hey, hey. It’s okay, we’re safe right now. It’s okay.” He shakes his head harder, nails digging into my chest through the clothes. I shush him and run a hand through his hair. 

“We’ll figure something out. I can try to get out there quickly, then hopefully the oars aren’t lost, and—” 

Baz pulls back to glare at me, eyes still shining with terror. I try to look as sympathetic as I can. 

“Baz, I know. Trust me, I know. I really don’t want to go out there either. But we can’t just sit here all night. He might… he might come up here.” We both shudder and he pushes closer to me, hiding his face again. “We need to leave. I’ll be quick, I promise.” He clings harder, shaking his head against my chest.

“We’ll get the boat.” I gasp, surprised to see a regretful-looking Mordelia swimming a few feet away surrounded by other sea animals. “I’m sorry I couldn’t get here sooner; I tried but the eels stopped me.” 

I shake my head. “You’re okay. And thank you.” She smiles weakly, eyes flickering down to look at Baz before she turns around and swims towards the overturned boat. 

“Here,” she says, pushing the boat onto the shore next to us. “And! Terry found the oars!” She holds it up, then smiles apologetically when the very end of the handle on one of them snaps off in her hand. “Heh. Looks like they’re a little busted. Hope you got insurance.”

I snort. Baz sniffs and sits up, pushing the hair out of his face and sighing heavily. He gives his sister a grateful but tired smile, then huffs out a laugh when she quickly pulls herself onto the shore to give him a quick hug before retreating to the water. 

“I gotta go, but please be safe.” Baz and I nod, then watch her sink below the water, leaving the lagoon unnaturally quiet.

“We should get out of here,” I say after a minute. Baz nods numbly, then  collapses back against the rocky sand, eyes fluttering closed. 

I force myself to get up and move, flipping the boat over and pushing it in the water, then I put the oars inside and nudge Baz. He blinks a few times, looking confused for a second before shaking his head and sitting up, crawling over to the boat. 

God, he must be exhausted. 

I help him into the boat with as little rocking as I can manage, then row away as fast as I can. 

“Simon! Thank fucking Morgana. Where the hell were you?!” Nico screams as we pull into the dock, pacing anxiously. I give him a tired, apologetic look and he falters. “What happened?” His voice is more serious than I’ve ever heard. 

“It’s a long story. We’re safe, and that’s all that matters for now.” Nico looks like he doesn’t know if he should check me for injuries or strangle me. I press my lips together and furrow my eyebrows, helping a half-asleep Baz out of the row boat. 

“Is… is he okay?” I give Nico a small nod as Baz stumbles into my side, losing his balance every other step. 

“He… will be.” 

“Okay, I know you said it was a long story… but what the hell happened to you two?” I shake my head.

“Ask later. I think we just need to get back to the palace before we crash right now.” He nods, looking  completely lost, then walks us over to our carriages. 

“Are you okay with going on your own? I can find someone to take my carriage back and ride with you two—”

“We’ll be fine,” I interrupt, putting a hand on his shoulder. “Just lead the way.” 

He nods, then hesitantly walks over to his carriage and hops in, waiting for us to get situated. After I get Baz up and into the seat I follow, making sure he’s comfortable before nodding to Nico. 

We take off towards the palace in silence. I look over at Baz, who’s pressed against the side of the carriage and shivering as his damp dress sticks to his skin in the cool night breeze. 

“Here,” I offer, lifting my free arm. He blinks sluggishly and turns to me, looking seconds away from passing out. I set the reins down and take his hand, guiding him closer until he’s comfortably tucked into my side. 

He sighs sleepily and pushes closer, fingers curling weakly into my shirt as he rests his head on my shoulder and closes his eyes. 

“You can sleep, it’s all right. You’re safe.” He nods, not seeming fully aware of the action, then exhales deeply, out in seconds. 

I catch myself drifting off as we make our way back to the palace. Baz is completely knocked out by the time we reach the large doors, so I just pick him up bridal style and carefully make my way up the stairs into the castle, doing my best to jostle him as little as possible. 

“Where are you going?” Nico asks when I take a right at the top of the stairs instead of a left, where Baz’s room is. I turn to him. 

“My room’s closer, and I’m not entirely sure I’d be able to make it to his and back without passing out.” He nods, then gives me a small, strained smile before turning on his heel and stalking away towards his own rooms. 

I find my rooms with little difficulty and use my foot to open the door as quietly as possible, closing it the same way. Baz remains asleep the entire time and only stirs when I place him on my bed. 

I sit next to him and run a hand through his hair when one of his eyes opens.

“Hey.” He blinks a few times, clearly struggling to stay awake. 

“I’m going to call for someone and ask for some pajamas, okay? You can sleep until they get here, but I think it’d be best if you take the corset off now.” He nods, yawning as he forces himself to sit up and stretch, wincing at the feeling of his stiff clothes rubbing against his skin. 

“Here, let me help.” He nods, head drooping as he scrubs at one of his eyes, still half-asleep. I move behind him and start untying the strings, then pull it off as carefully as I can. I stand as he takes a deep breath and wraps his arms around his stomach, collapsing back into the pillows.

“Your Highness?” A muffled voice calls through the door. Baz already looks to be mostly asleep again, so I make my ways over to the door as quietly as possible.

“Yes?” I whisper as I open the door. Vera (as I learned was her name this morning) gives me a stiff nod and hands me a bundle of clothes. I blink and give her my most grateful smile. 

“Thank you so much. I was worried I’d have to wake up some poor servant.” She shakes her head, then carefully smooths out her apron. 

“You just see to it that Basilton is comfortable, understood?” I nod, smiling kindly at her. 

“I will. Thank you again.” She nods, then turns away and starts down the hall. I shut the door as quietly as possible and turn back into the room. I set the clothes on the bed next to Baz and lean over him, lightly shaking his shoulder. 

He startles, then stares at me with blurry, tired eyes.

“Vera brought spare clothes. You should change before you get sick.” He nods and sits up, then goes still and stares at his lap like he forgot what he was supposed to be doing. 

“Here, put this on.” I gently hand him a pair of pants and a long tunic, then take my own clothes and go to the closet. 

I take my time changing, knowing Baz would most likely need more time in his current state. 

After a few minutes of silence on the other side of the door, I knock lightly. 

“Hey, Baz? I’m going to come out now. Uh. Stomp on the ground or something if you’re not ready yet.” I pause, then slowly open the door, peeking out to make sure he’s actually done.

I nearly melt when I see him, in his pajamas, curled around one of my pillows and fast asleep. I make my way over to the bed and pull the blankets over him before slipping in next to him, taking the limp ribbon out of the small section of his hair it was still miraculously holding in place.

After setting it aside, I run my hair through the tangles as gently as I can, listening to Baz’s slow, even breathing. He leans into the touch subconsciously, sighing deeply. 

I reach over him after a while and put out the small lantern lighting up the room. The room goes dark and I rest my arm over his waist, falling asleep nearly seconds after closing my eyes.

Baz

I wake up slowly, my mind fuzzy. 

“Hmm, morning.” I shiver when I hear the groggy voice behind me and sigh. 

This is nice.

I shuffle backwards until I’m pressed against Simon, smiling when his arm tightens around me. He laughs into my hair. 

“You’re so cuddly when you’re tired.” I huff but don’t bother trying to move away. He’s so warm, and the idea of losing my heater sounds like torture. 

He laughs quietly again, then takes my hand with the one wrapped around my waist. I squeeze his hand once, melting into the blankets around us. It feels like a dream.

We lie in comfortable silence for a few minutes before Simon sighs. 

“We should probably get up.” I whine (it comes out as a wheezy sigh) and shake my head. He huffs out a laugh before extracting his arm. “No, I’m serious. I think Nico mentioned a guest coming over today, and I’m pretty sure that means I have to greet them or something.” 

I sigh heavily at the loss of warmth, watching blearily as Simon crosses the room to his closet. 

“You can stay in here if you’d like,” he calls, then exits in an outfit similar to the one he wore yesterday. 

Don’t think about yesterday. 

I nod, watching him make his way back over to my side of the bed. He sits next to me and leans down to tie his boots. 

“I hope the visitor isn’t super important. I’m terrible at acting like royalty.” I smile with heavy eyelids, reaching a hand over to run up and down his back lazily. He sighs, pausing momentarily to lean into the touch before moving onto his next boot. 

“I’m sure it’ll be fine, right?” He looks over his shoulder at me and I give him an encouraging smile, using my nails to scratch light circles into his back. He hums.

“You’re making it very difficult to want to be productive.” I grin at him when he turns to glare (read: pout) at me and pat the bed. He laughs, shaking his head. 

“You know I can’t. After all,” he says, standing and spreading his arms out as he turns on his heel to beam at me. “A prince’s work is never done.” 

I blow a curl out of my face and cross my arms, raising an eyebrow. He laughs nervously, then reaches back towards the doorknob. 

“I’ll be right back, I swear. As soon as this visitor business is done, I’m all yours.” He winks, then opens the door and leaves me cold and flustered.

All mine? I don’t hate the sound of that.

***

I’m impatient, sue me. 

He was taking too long! I’m bored, and the blankets have long since lost their warmth. 

So I stand on unsteady legs, shuffle to the door, and start walking down the hallway, keeping an eye out for anyone to ask for Simon. 

“—make a lovely bride.” 

I blink, then slowly creep towards the corner right before the grand staircase of the castle. 

“I-uh. Sure, yeah. Glad… everything worked out…” I frown at the hesitance in Nico’s voice, then peek out from behind the corner before slapping a hand over my mouth to muffle a gasp. 

Simon stands arm in arm next to fucking Agatha, with the Mage (with legs) smugly smiling from beside them. 

“We wish to be married as soon as possible.” I shake my head in disbelief, blinking away angry tears as I step closer to the stairs. I reach out to a pillar to both hide and steady myself, watching Agatha smile at him sweetly and squeeze his arm. 

“Kid. This is stu—”

“Ahem.” The Mage gives Nico a sharp look that has the man backing away a few steps. 

“I mean–of course…but these things take time, you know?”

“This afternoon,” Simon stresses in a robotic voice. “The wedding ship departs at sunset.” 

“I… Very well.” Nico bows once, then walks away. I blink back more tears, watching Simon turn to Agatha and press a kiss to her hand. 

No…

My eyes move over to the Mage and I shiver. 

(‘I love how you still think you can win. I wonder how far your precious human will go to save y—’) 

No. Deep breaths. There’s no water, there’s no darkness, no… 

The Mage looks directly at me, as if sensing my stare, and grins wickedly. I get the message, even without words. 

Stay out of my way.

I shake my head and back away, running towards my room. I don’t think I’d be able to face Simon if he came back to his own room, or Merlin-forbid, came with Agatha.

I collapse onto the large bed and curl around a pillow, barely managing to hold back tears. 

“Hey, kid! Congrats on the wedding! Everyone’s talkin' about it, how the prince is gettin' hitched tonight at sunset!” I sob silently when Ebb’s triumphant voice enters through the window. “Uh, is it a bad time?” 

“He’s not getting married to Baz, you idiot.” Fiona grumbles from where she’s sitting on the bed beside me. “He’s engaged to someone else.” 

The words are a direct hit to my heart as I shake, wishing for all the world that I could just scream. 

“Oh… Oh, kid. I’m so sorry.” Ebb lands in front of me, brushing over my hair with her wing. “If I’d have known…” 

“It’s too late for that. Let’s just… think of something else.” Fiona starts pacing back and forth across the sheets. 

I sniff, waving them off. 

Ebb somehow looks worried, even in seagull form. 

“Hey, you sure you’ll be okay alone, kid? I mean, this sucks. Like, it sucks a lot, and–oof—”

“What she means is,” Fiona grits out through her teeth when my shoulders shake harder. “We don’t want you doing something impulsive right now.” 

I scoff. Yeah, right. Me, impulsive. Sure.

“... We’ll give you some space.” 

I don’t bother giving them any sort of answer.

Chapter Text

Baz

I slide down the wooden pillar on the dock, watching the ship fade into the horizon. 

I got dressed (a shirt similar to Simon’s and a pair of pants were waiting in my closet) after a few hours of sulking to watch the ship leave, as a way of closure or something. 

I don’t know what I was thinking either, because now I can confidently say that crying silently with the company of a crab is Not It. 

Well, I think as the ship gets smaller and smaller. I guess this is it.

“BAZ! WOAH!!” Ebb crashes into a pole next to me, then falls directly into my lap. She pops right up, frantically looking between the boat and our spot on the dock. 

“What the bloody hell is wrong with you?!” Fiona shrieks from beside me. Ebb gasps for air, then stares at me with manic eyes. 

“We gotta get you on that boat, kid!” I frown, shaking my head. It’s too late for that… “I know, I know. But Davey’s got Simon under some spell, and he’s using his weird voodoo magic to make an illusion thingy that looks like the blonde girl! I saw it through a window with my own eyes!” 

“Woah, woah. Slow down! Say it again, but breathe this time.” Fiona steps closer, looking much more focused. 

“Right, right.” Ebb takes a deep breath. “So, I was flyin, as you do when you’re a bird—”

“Petty.” 

“My bad. So I’m flyin, and I look into a window on the wedding ship in a totally not creepy way, I swear—”

“PETTY.” 

“YEEZUS, and see Davey do some weird wavy thing with his necklace before a giant flash thing happens and suddenly the Wellbelove girl is standing in front of him in a wedding dress! We need to get you back on that boat, so you can kiss your man before time is up!” 

Fiona paces as I shake my head. I know there’s no way in hell I’m swimming to the boat. Not after yesterday. Plot be damned. 

“Maybe we can help?” I pull my head out of my arms and see Mordelia leaning her elbows on the edge of the dock. “I think we can use one of those barrels to drag you along until we reach the ship!” A dolphin emerges from the water, nudging a floating barrel towards Mordelia. 

I sniff, wiping my nose with my sleeve. Fiona shrugs, looking at me. 

“Your call, kiddo. You wanna go get him?” I press my lips together, then nod. I don’t really have much of a choice, do I?

“Great! Hop in, we should be able to get you there with plenty of time before the sun fully sets!” I shiver, sliding my boots off and rolling up my pant legs before sliding into the water. 

My muscles lock up immediately at the cold temperature and memories of being pulled under but Mordelia wraps her arms around my waist in a hug until I exhale shakily and cling to the barrel. 

She gives me a worried look. “You ready?” I nod, holding the barrel tighter. 

It probably takes less time than it feels, but we eventually reach the boat after numerous stops when I choked on water as the waves grew. 

“Here,” Ebb calls from above, dropping a rope. I cling to it and drag myself up, trembling violently. 

“—you Simon, take Agatha, to be your lawfully wedded wife, for as long as you both shall live?” 

I hold my breath, pausing just under the railing of the ship. 

“I do.”

“Baz?” Ebb whispers when she sees that I’ve stopped. I shake my head, tears burning my eyes again. I can’t do this, I can’t do this, I can’t–

“You can do this, it’s okay.” I let out a silent sob, shaking my head harder as I cling to the rope. “Everything’s gonna be okay, and you’re gonna get out of this spell, and you’ll be so happy. I promise. But you just need to get this part over with, okay?” 

I gasp wetly and stare at her. Sometimes, I forgot about her awareness of the fourth wall in this whole thing. I mean, sometimes even I forgot this was just a spell. 

“And, uh, do you–”

A high pitched scream cuts off the officiator, followed by shouts from the rest of the crowd. I glance up and feel my eyes widen when I see animals crawling around on the deck, generally causing mayhem. 

In the middle of it all is Simon, staring straight ahead completely unaffected by anything happening around him. He’s clearly under the influence of some sort of spell and I mentally facepalm myself for not noticing earlier. How could you forget that part?

I grip the railing and force myself over it, going unnoticed in the chaos. I take a second to take a few deep breaths, which gives me the perfect opportunity to watch Ebb swoop down, grab the shell necklace from around the Mage (who was hiding behind a table and watching the whole thing from afar), and smash it on the ground. Agatha immediately flickers away like she was a hologram this whole time and Simon’s eyes clear. 

A glowing ball that I now recognize as my voice floats over to me and forces its way into my mouth, making me shudder at the strange intrusive feeling. It settles and I reach up to touch my throat, almost scared to see if it’s really back.

“I–Baz?” I blink, then look up and see Simon shaking his head and wincing as he presses the heel of his hand into his forehead. He’s staring wide-eyed at me, like he has no idea how either of us got here (and chances are, he doesn’t). 

“...Simon?” He starts, then beams. I laugh, actually laugh, with actual sound, and cover my mouth when my eyes start to water. 

“Your voice!” He runs over to me and picks me up, spinning me in the air with a bright laugh. I shriek, clinging to his shoulders as he sets me down. “You got your voice back!” 

I fail to stifle a giggle (god dammit, did not miss that) and hide my face in his collarbone.

“Yeah, I did.” He holds me tighter, then pulls back and takes my hands in his.

“Can I kiss you?” I inhale deeply, then nod with a smile. 

“I’d be disappointed if you didn’t.” 

He doesn’t need any more convincing, instantly dropping my hands to brush my hair out of my face—something he does a lot, I’ve come to notice—before tilting my chin up and leaning in. I reach up on my toes and curl my fingers around his ridiculously fancy shoulder tassels, smiling when our noses brush. Finally…

“Simon, no!” 

I scream, my entire spine suddenly sparking with agonizing pain. I feel my muscles seize as I go limp in Simon’s arms, sinking to the floor. I look down and watch, slightly nauseated as my legs basically sew themselves together and form my tail. 

No, no no no no NO WE WERE SO CLOSE—

“Baz!” 

“You’re too late!” The Mage appears out of nowhere, back as a half-squid monster. He cackles and grabs my arm, dragging me up and wrapping a tentacle around my neck. I gasp and force my eyes to the side of the ship, taking in the fully-set sun. No…

“Let him go,” Simon steps closer and reaches for me, but the Mage tightens his hold, making me wheeze painfully.  

“Don’t come any closer. Not if you know what’s good for him.” I struggle against the tentacles, ignoring the pain from my waist down. The Mage drags me over to the edge of the ship and sneers at Simon once more before throwing me off the side of the railing into the waves. 

I hit the water with a cry and thrash around as I try to adjust to being underwater but I’m dizzy and disoriented and my tail is still burning.

“Not so fast, little prince. I’m not done with you yet.” The Mage grabs me by the arm again and pulls me uselessly behind him towards his cave. Every movement sends painful tingling down my spine and I can do nothing but try to stay upright as he drags me through the water. 

“Stop—struggling, you brat.” 

He throws me down onto the floor in the cave and scowls. I sneer right back at him, panting. 

“David, enough.” I choke on a sob when I hear my father’s voice. Great. Just fantastic. 

“Wow, Malcolm Grimm himself! How are you? It’s been so lo—”

A large bolt strikes near the Mage, cutting him off. He gasps dramatically and puts a hand to his chest, staring at where the light hit. 

“That was so RUDE! My, where are your manners?” 

“Let him go.” I’ve never heard my father speak with that much emotion. It’s unnerving.

The Mage hums, tapping his chin. “Hmm, no. I can’t really do that, see.” He waves his hand, summoning the scroll with a smirk. “We made a deal.” 

My father tries to destroy the scroll with more magic, but it shines brighter, completely unaffected. 

“Ah-ah, Malcolm. This is a legal, binding contract. No take-backs. Although…” He swims closer to my father. “I would be interested in… an exchange.” I blanch when I remember what he’s planning and shake my head wildly. 

“Don’t do it, please, don’t—don’t—”

“Do we have a deal?” The Mage hands my father the same pen I used and watches with a sadistic grin as he signs over my name. 

“No!” 

“Oh, Malcolm.” Fiona sounds heartbroken, watching my father with sad eyes. I pull harder against the restraints, screaming incoherently. 

I have no choice but to watch as my father slowly turns into one of those soul-parasites and the Mage grabs his crown and trident. 

“Father?” My voice cracks as he turns to look at me, looking weaker and more vulnerable than I’ve ever seen before. 

“Finally, it’s mine! It’s all mine!” 

“You–You monster!” He turns around and looms over me threateningly. 

“I wouldn’t want to test me right now, brat. Contract or n—” He cuts himself off with a furious scream, whipping around to face… Simon?!

“Get out of here, you idiot!” He shakes his head at me, looking unnaturally pale but determined as ever. He can’t seriously think he’s able to hold his breath this long…

I watch the Mage tighten his grip on his trident as it starts to glow with wide eyes and turn to Simon. 

“Watch out!” He notices just as it goes off and pushes himself down in time to avoid being hit by a bolt. 

“Get him!” The Mage shouts. The two eels wrap around Simon, clearly trying to suffocate him. I scream, struggling as hard as I can to get to him. I can’t watch him die, I just can’t—

“Say goodbye,” the Mage grits out, pointing his trident directly at Simon’s chest. “To your sweetheart.”

I cry out and twist roughly to the side, finally managing to break free just in time to launch myself at the Mage. I grab the trident right as it goes off, making the blast hit the two eels instead of Simon. 

I sigh with relief, then feel a spike of panic when Simon slowly goes limp in the water. Shit! 

I rush over to him and loop my arms around his chest, dragging him up to the surface as fast as I can. He coughs when we break through the waves and shakes his head. 

“I… probably shouldn’t have tried to hold my breath for so long…” I laugh through tears, pressing our foreheads together and grabbing a handful of his curls.

“No… No fucking shit.” 

“You need to get out of here, okay?” He frowns. 

“No, not without you.” I open my mouth to argue back because god dammit, we don’t have time for this, but the Mage rises out of the water directly below us, suddenly ginormous. I cling to one side of the now-massive crown on his head as we’re lifted into the sky, glancing over and seeing Simon do the same. 

The Mage monologues for a second while making a literal hurricane, then shakes his head and throws us into the water. I immediately lose sight of Simon as I fall into a whirlpool, hitting the sandy sea floor with a groan. 

“So much for true love!” The Mage mocks, sending small blasts into the whirlpool and cackling as I struggle to dodge them. I still have no idea where Simon is, and I’m fairly fucking sure this isn’t what Bunce had in mind when she made this hellhole. 

Oh, are we going to have some words when I get back to our world. 

A loud, piercing scream interrupts my panic/revenge plots and I look up just in time to see a ship impale the Mage, taking him down with a huge flash of lightning. 

Shit, Simon must be scared shitless right now.

Water floods into the whirlpool as it dissipates and I brace myself against the literal wall of water that comes crashing down on me.

It picks me up and throws me around in circles for a second, then it settles and I float dizzily to the sand below me. I blink up at the swirling water as it slowly fades to darkness, then let myself go with an exhausted sigh. 

Simon

I sit on the beach, fidgeting with the tiger charm. I still haven’t given it to him yet.

I found it on my dresser, long after the Mage mess. I honestly think I blacked out for a lot of it, because one second I was driving a ship through the Mage’s gut, the next I was face-down in the sand on the beach. 

Nico came sprinting from Merlin-knows-where and slapped me across the face before pulling me into a tight hug. It was very touching, until I said as such and he smacked me again for accusing him of having feelings. 

He took me to my room despite my protests to stay and make sure Baz was okay, made me change and eat something, then finally let me go down to the beach. 

It’s been a few hours now and I haven’t seen him. 

I’m starting to get hungry, and I know logically that it’s going to get cold as it gets darker and my thin shirt isn’t going to do shit to keep me warm, but I don’t care. 

It’s bright enough by the moon and lights from the castle to see pretty far out if I squint, but now I’m nodding off every other second and it’s getting harder to keep my eyes open.

Just a little longer…

I’m not sure how much time passes before a hand shakes my shoulder, rousing me from my half-asleep state. I jerk up, heart racing as I look for Baz. 

“Sorry kid. Just me.” I twist around and blink drowsily, letting Nico help me up and walk with me to the castle. “You can always try tomorrow.” I hum, stumbling a bit through the sand.

He walks me to my room, then pushes me towards my bed. 

“I’m trusting you to not try to sneak out the window and look for him when I leave, got it? I can and will station guards at all exits if need be.” I drop face-first onto my bed and wave him off, kicking my boots onto the floor. He goes quiet for a second before knocking on the frame.

“...Night, kid.” 

The door shuts with a small click and I lie still for a second, then turn my head to stare out of the window, tightening my fist around the charm.

You better be okay, I silently plead. 

Wherever you are.

Chapter Text

Simon

I’m back on the beach. 

It’s late again, and the sun is just starting to turn the sky into a rainbow of bright colors. Not that I take much time to appreciate it.

I woke up early—much earlier than Baz usually did when we were at Watford. Nico brought me a small bag of food and joined me for an hour or two before complaining about sunburn and returning to the castle. 

I absently pet Max, squinting out at the slow moving waves. They’ve been the same all day, back and forth, in and out without stopping. 

There’s absolutely no sign of Baz. It’s like he just vanished during the big fight or something. 

“Hiya!” I screech as Ebb lands on my bent knee. She screeches in return, flapping her wings a bit. 

“Ebb! You scared me!” I let out a long breath, tugging at my hair. She settles on my knee again and pats my arm. 

“Sorry. Hey, have you seen Baz? I’d look for him, but it is unfortunately very impossible for avian creatures to grow gills and swim.” I snort, shaking my head. 

“No, I haven’t. I’ve been waiting here, trying to see if I spot him.” 

“No luck?” 

“Nope.”

She hums, then sits quietly, joining me in looking out at the waves again. 

Back and forth.

In and out. 

Repeat.

“I’m gonna ask around, okay? Keep me posted.” I nod, furrowing my eyebrows and watching her take off. 

Back and forth.

In and out. 

Repeat.

I sigh as I watch the sky take on a striking mix of reds, purples and oranges.  

“Pretty sunset.”

I nod, then do a double take. 

Baz smirks from where he’s propped up on his elbows on one of the rocks jutting out of the water nearby. I jump to my feet, staring at him with wide eyes.

“Baz!” He raises an eyebrow. 

“Yep.” 

I falter. “It’s… you?” He raises his other eyebrow. 

“…yep?” 

I laugh disbelievingly and take a step towards him, then another, then run until I’m waist deep in the water and directly in front of the rock. It’s about chest height to me, and Baz is looking down at me with bright eyes.

“Where were you?” He grimaces. 

“I… had a bit of a rough landing after the whole… impaling part.” He reaches up and lightly rubs a spot on his head. I frown. 

“Are you hurt?” He shakes his head. 

“No, I’m fine. Thank you, though.”

I remember the charm in my pocket. 

This morning before I left, I found Vera and asked if she had a small chain I could put the tiger on so it could be an actual piece of jewelry and she managed to find one from an old bracelet.

“Oh! I have something for you.” He gives me a skeptical look. 

“Should I be scared?” 

I huff, shaking my head. “No, you should not be scared. Just close your eyes and put your hand out.” He frowns, but follows the orders with little hesitation.

I pull the charm bracelet out of my pocket and place it in his open palm, then back away a step, barely even feeling the water around my legs. 

“Okay, now you can see.” He blinks a few times, then looks down at the item and blinks some more. 

“Is this..?” 

I grin and cross my arms, tapping my fingers nervously. “Yep.”

He looks down at me with an incredulous smile. “But… how?” I shrug, laughing when he gives me a warning glare. 

“I saw you looking at it at the market and bought it when you weren’t looking.” He just stares at me so I start rambling to fill the silence, worried I somehow upset him. 

Shit, wait, a lot of bad things happened in Aladdin and this is probably just reminding him of all of that and now he’ll never love me—

“I mean, it looks like the one from Aladdin, so I thought it’d be nice, and I know there’s a high change it might not even be able to leave this story but I still thought—”

Baz cuts me off by placing a finger on my lips, then he flicks a curl off of my forehead with a smile.

“It’s perfect. Thank you.” His tail swishes behind him as he stares at the charm. I clear my throat, forcing myself to make eye contact with him. 

“Um, I could put it on? If you’d like?” His eyes shine and he nods eagerly, holding out his right arm. I take the charm bracelet and loop it around his wrist with ease, having plenty of practice with Penny and Agatha. 

“And…” I stick my tongue out as I pinch the clasp, then just sort of hold his wrist for a second, relaxing into the tingling feeling in my chest from the contact. “There.”

He stares at our hands, then looks up to my face, then back to our hands, then back to me. I hold eye contact and feel a burst of impulsiveness take control of my brain-to-mouth filter.

“I love you.” Baz and I both blink, then I slap a hand over my mouth. Shit. 

“Wh—”

“I MEAN! Uh…” I laugh nervously, having absolutely no idea how to get myself out of this. Baz is completely still, which gives me a great view of the blush slowly rising up his neck to his face and ears (probably in disgust). Stupid brain, where’s Penny when I need her?

“Simon, I—”

“—don’t have to say anything, hahaaaa~” I grit my teeth and cover my face with my hands. Stupid. “Just, just forget I said that. Please.” 

He pulls my hands away and looks down his nose pointedly, like we’re in school. 

Like we used to be, before the spell.

His voice is completely emotionless and cold when he speaks, making me flinch. 

“Did you mean it?” 

I blink up at him. “...What?” 

“Did you mean it?” He leans closer, narrowing his eyes at me. I feel any sort of fight I may have had crumble under his stare. 

“...yes.” I wince at how small my voice is. “Uh. I just… I’m sorry if this ruins things, or if you don’t want to talk to me again, once this is all over. I mean, I wouldn’t want to talk to me, after being a right asshole to you for years before dropping this on you with no warning, and—” 

He huffs out a disbelieving laugh and shakes his head, then grabs my shirt, pulling me into him. 

“You are the stupidest person I’ve ever had the displeasure of meeting.” I flinch, but he holds tight, pulls me even closer. “Of course you have the absolute audacity to tell me you return my feelings after five years of what I thought to be hopeless pining.”

My eyes widen to a nearly painful degree as I process the end of his little speech (confession??). 

“What..?” I breathe, not quite trusting my own ears. 

“I love you," he whispers, then drags me up to him and pulls me into a kiss. I lightly take his face in my hands as he pulls me closer, tilting my head. 

OKAY YEAH. THIS IS FINE. 

He pulls away with a soft sigh and laughs, eyes still closed. 

Pretty...

I stare dazedly at his smile, more genuine than I think I’ve ever seen, the bright flush covering his face, and the quick rise and fall of his chest. 

“You’re so beautiful,” I breathe, not even fully processing the words leaving my mouth. I lean up to press a quick kiss to his lips again. 

I can do that now. He loves me. He actually loves me. And he loves the bracelet. But also me.

He gasps, twisting to look over his shoulder. I squint at the sudden bright light behind him and cover my eyes. A few seconds pass before I move my arm, then back away in shock. It’s… 

Baz stares down at himself, now with legs and in a glittering silver suit. 

“Woah,” he breathes, watching the sunset’s colors reflect off of the fabric.

He laughs, then turns and leaps towards me, sending us both crashing into the water. I come up and spit a mouthful of water out, then throw my head back and laugh loudly when Baz follows, grinning widely. 

He jumps forward and throws his arms over my shoulders, laughing when I spin us in a circle and send water spraying around us. 

We press our foreheads together and smile, heart racing. I take in his face and just think about how happy I am right now, looking at his bent nose and gray eyes, his wavy hair that’s more of a mess than he ever would have allowed a week ago, the love (love!) in his eyes that surely matches my own. 

“I love you,” I say again, because I can. He smiles, pressing a quick kiss to my lips. 

“I love you too.” He pulls himself closer, tightening his arms and wrinkling his nose as his smile widens. 

“No matter what story comes next, I think this one’s gonna be my favorite.” 

Baz hums as I press a kiss to his cheek. “Mine too.” 

“Bleck. You two are disgusting.” We turn to see Fiona sitting on the rock next to Ebb, who’s wiping tears out of her eyes. 

“Shut it, Pitch. This is so cute, agh. I just can’t—” She turns and sniffles loudly, making Baz and I laugh. 

“Yeah, yeah.” Fiona awkwardly pats her back, looking embarrassed. 

“I’m just so happy for them!” Ebb sobs, and I drop my face into Baz’s hair to hide my smile. 

“We get it, just stop crying. You’re making me look like an idiot just standing next to you.” 

Baz’s shoulders shake with suppressed laughter as he pulls back to look at me. 

“You ready?” I smile wider, taking his hand. 

“Of course.” 

The waves under us vanish and we drop into the darkness, tangled with each other as we fall. 

Penny

I pause mid-sentence in my daily update to Posibelf when I hear very faint screaming. 

“Ms. Bunce?” I shush her, turning to the center of the room and squinting at the ceiling. It sounds like it’s coming from…

Wait. 

I scramble to pull my mirror out, cast “Mirror Mirror,” and blink when the screen stays blank. 

Oh. 

OH.

“Everybody get out of the way!” I shout. The students near the center aisle in the classroom run in different directions, hopping into their seats to get out of the way of some invisible threat. 

The class goes quiet in anticipation of some Bad Thing after my interruption (it makes me feel very cool, but that’s not important), and that’s when they hear the screaming. 

“What..?” Ms. Posibelf stands slowly, squinting at the ceiling. She starts to point her wand but I knock it down, wincing when she gives me a stern look. 

“Sorry, but… That shouldn’t be necessary.” She raises an eyebrow, turning back to the ceiling. 

“—AAAAAAAAAAAAA OOF.” 

The classroom sits in varying degrees of shock as Simon and Baz fall through the (seemingly) solid ceiling and land on the floor. We seem to collectively hold our breaths as we wait for either of them to say something. 

“Ugh,” Baz groans under Simon, and we all tense.

“Why the fuck are you so heavy?”

Chapter Text

Simon

We’re back. 

We’re actually BACK.

I knew the second we hit the ground, only because Penny screamed and I’ve heard Penny’s scream so many times (that’s what happens when you befriend me and are constantly put in mortal danger. Hm.) so I just knew. 

Baz groans, pushing at my arm weakly. “Why the fuck are you so heavy?” 

I wheeze into his shoulder. We’re back. We’re out, we’re safe, we’re alive—

“It’s… hah… it’s all of my love for you.” He scoffs, fingers curling into the back of my uniform. 

“Yeah, right. It’s all of those bloody scones, more like.” 

I pull back just enough to grin down at him, then laugh a little when I see his hair. It’s a complete mess, yet somehow he still looks as attractive as ever (damn him). 

“What is it?” He asks quietly, giving me a confused look. I shrug, smiling when he wrinkles his nose. 

“Nothing. Just like looking at you, ‘s all.” His eyes lose focus for a second as his ears turn a very very light shade of pink. I already miss the blushing. 

“You’re ridiculous,” he says, glaring with no real anger. I smile, bumping my nose against his cheek. 

“I know. But you looooooove it.” 

“H-Hardly.” I laugh, catching the slight stutter. 

“Penelope Bunce,” Ms Possibelf’s disbelieving, breathless voice reminds us of our company. We both turn to look over at her desk, where she’s staring at us with lost, wide eyes.

“...Yes, ma’am?” Penny says, voice high and slightly nervous-sounding. Baz and I look from her to Possibelf. 

“Has anyone ever told you you’re going to be a brilliant mage one day?” 

Penny very nearly fucking preens. I glance back at Baz, who looks disgruntled and more than a little bitter, and nudge his shoulder. 

“I’m sure your spell will be okay, too.” He scowls at me. 

“I don’t want your pity, Snow.” 

I pout, whining dramatically as I drape myself over him. He scoffs, even as his arms wrap around me to keep us upright. 

“You weren’t calling me ‘Snow’ when we—” 

“Okay, that’s quite enough.” He presses his lips together and glares at me, daring me to continue. 

(Un)Luckily, I’ve never really found that glare all too intimidating, and I (according to Penny) lack self preservation, so I don’t listen to the silent threat. 

“Sorry, who are you talking to?” I put a hand up to my ear, giving him my most innocent smile. He tightens his hold around my waist until it’s almost painful, squinting at me. 

“Snow.”

“Who? I don’t hear anyone talking to me—”

“Merlin, you’re insufferable.” 

“Who’s insufferable?” He huffs and I know I’ve won.

“Simon.” He rolls his eyes, then very poorly fights a smile when I beam. 

“That’s better.” I laugh to myself as I brush some hair out of his face, then I lean up (ugh. up.) to press a kiss to his lips. 

“Simon,” Penny gasps in a strangled voice and I’m reminded where I am again. Whoops.

I pull away and look at Baz, whose eyes are still half-shut. He blinks a few times, shaking his head, then releases me from his arms and stands, brushing himself off. Aw.

I huff from the floor, then make grabby hands towards him when he looks down to me. 

“Stop that, you look like Swithin when he wants to be picked up.” I smile brightly, making slightly more intense grabby hands. 

He frowns, like he can’t decide whether or not he wants to actually fully associate himself with me in front of the entire class, but then he must realize it’s far too late for that by now. 

He holds a hand out towards me, looking physically pained. 

I let out a triumphant laugh and take it, pulling myself up and using the momentum to pull him closer. He gasps as I quickly lean in to kiss his cheek before grinning and backing away towards the door in a half-jog. 

He whips around and glares at me before smiling in a way that gives me chills. 

“I’m feeling generous,” oh no, “ so you get five seconds.” 

Oh SHIT. 

“One.”

I squeak and turn around, sprinting out the door and down the hallway.

“FIVE.” I hear, then impossibly fast (bloody vampire powers) footsteps. 

“SHIT!” I scream, pushing myself to move faster down the hall when I hear him get closer. 

“You can’t beat me here, Snow.” I choke on my own spit, nearing the end of the hall. The asshole doesn’t even sound remotely out of breath, and the footsteps are getting so much closer.

“It’s, hah, it’s not—fuck—Snow,” I pant, then make a sharp right, hoping to throw him off when I turn the corner quickly. 

As it turns out, that wouldn’t matter, since I run directly into someone turning at the same time as me. 

Someone who’s perfume smells very familiar.

“Ow—What the hell?” Agatha and I crash to the ground. She pushes herself into a seated position and presses a hand to her forehead, where I’m pretty sure our heads collided. 

I just stare at her dumbly from my spot on the floor, absently processing Baz slide to a stop when he rounds the corner and sees us.

Agatha winces, then turns to see who the fuck was in such a hurry so as to dead sprint down the halls before freezing when she makes eye contact. 

“Simon?” She gasps, jaw dropping. I nod, not trusting my voice to actually work (ha, like Baz). Shit, how do I tell her? What about Baz? How am I supposed to handle this? Why can’t I just fight something instead of having a serious, emotional conversation with my (ex??) girlfriend? 

“Uh, hi?” I clear my throat and blush when my voice cracks. “Hey, Aggie.” 

She blinks a few times, then pushes herself up to her feet and holds a hand out. 

I get a strong feeling of deja vu and turn to look at Baz, but he’s… gone? 

I look back to Agatha and shake my head, using her hand to pull myself up. 

“You-You’re back?” She stares at me like she can’t quite believe I’m actually standing here, even though her hand is still holding mine. I quickly pull my hand away, taking a few steps back. 

“Uh. Yeah…” I avoid making eye contact, still trying to find a good way to explain “hey, so I sort of cheated on you with my enemy and as it turns out I love him a lot more than I loved you, but I think what I felt for you was platonic and the pressure to find a pretty, smart girl who could put up with my mess automatically made me think it was romantic attraction and what I feel for Baz is definitively not platonic so please don’t hate me” without it ending in tears or a (well-deserved) slap to the face. 

“Hey, listen—”

“Can we talk—”

We both laugh awkwardly. 

“You first,” I say, stalling as I scramble for an explanation that isn’t insensitive. She takes a deep breath and smooths out her skirt. 

“I… think we should break up.” I blink once, twice, then stare at her with wide eyes. She gives me a nervous but genuine smile. 

“Wha..?” I know this is a great opportunity to come clean, but I have no idea how my vocal cords work right now. 

“We need to break up,” she says, much more confident this time. I shake my head and laugh incredulously. 

“Thank god.” I sigh, then wince when I realize I’ve spoken out loud. Agatha crosses her arms and raises an eyebrow (not nearly as effective as Baz) as I scramble to explain myself. “I didn’t mean it like that!” 

She laughs, waving me off. “You’re fine. I think… We’re much better off as friends?” I nod quickly, relieved laughter bubbling out of me. 

“Yes, yes. That’s-that’s what I wanted to say too. I, yeah.” 

Eloquent as ever. 

Agatha gives me a sly smile. “I know.” 

“How?” I frown as she starts laughing. 

“Simon, I know what happened in the spell.” I freeze. 

“How-How. Uh, how did you—?” I break off into nervous laughter, my mind racing. 

She lightly takes my hands in hers and squeezes them comfortingly. “Penny had a mirror that was able to show everything happening in the spell, and she explained everything to me.” 

I go bright red. Penny saw EVERYTHING? Who else knows about this? 

“Hey, relax. It’s okay.” I take a deep breath as Agatha continues. “It was surprising, at first. But… It makes sense, and you two looked really happy. So, to ease your conscience, I’m not mad. I… I think we both knew our relationship wasn’t really meant to be the way it was, and neither of us were really happy. Right?”

I nod quickly, still trying to get past ‘Penny saw it all.’

“So… I think you should probably go back to your new boyfriend, yeah?” She gives me an encouraging smile that lifts into something more teasing when I go bright red. 

“Boyfriend,” I say, breathless as I stare at her dazedly. 

She laughs, giving me a shove down the hall. “Go, and don’t be late to lunch. I want details.” 

I nod and give her a thumbs up before rushing towards the exit. I need to make it to Mummers, since I’m certain Baz would head straight to our room. Or the catacombs. Or the pitch. Or the Wavering Wood, if he was really desperate enough. 

Fuck.

“Hiya Simon!” 

I blink, then look to where the voice called. Ebb sits criss-cross a ways away with her staff on the ground next to her, one of the younger kids napping in her lap. 

“Hey, Ebb.” I slow to a stop before moving towards her. “Have you seen Baz?” 

She gives me a weird, knowing look and smirks as she pets the goat. 

“That’s very vague, Simon. I have definitely seen him, many times.” I shake my head and smile. 

“Yeah, I walked into that one. Did he run by here recently?” She reaches up to hold her chin, flashing a mischievous smirk that looks unnervingly similar to Nico’s. 

“He did, to your room I’d presume.” I sigh, relieved, and smile gratefully. 

“Thank you, Ebb!” She waves me off. 

“Go win over your boy.” I freeze, then turn around to squint at her. 

I could have sworn she said those exact words in Aladdin…?

Her eyes flash with amusement and I blink. 

“How did you—?” 

“Don’t leave him waiting, now.” She gives a nod towards Mummers and I nod distractedly, slowly backing away. 

“I’ll—I’ll talk to you later, Ebb.” She nods, waving me off with the same knowing smile. 

“Bye, Si.” 

…Okay then.

I’m still not entirely sure why Baz ran, but I’m too excited to overthink it. Agatha isn’t pissed at me and she supports Baz and I. Things couldn’t be better, and I’m over the fucking moon. 

I reach our door (our door, I’m ecstatic over a bloody door) and gasp for air. I ran up all of the stairs and believe it or not, impaling a giant sea monster does jack shit in terms of cardio, apparently. 

I listen on the other side of the door for a second to see if I can hear him, then feel my heart race pick up when I pick out rustling. 

I smile and bounce on my heels as I reach for the doorknob, then freeze when I hear a sniffle. 

The smile slides off of my face and I press my ear to the door. 

I hear a muffled gasp and another sniffle and press my hand flat against the door. Is-Is that Baz? Why would he be..?

A broken, cut off sob floats past the door and my heart pangs painfully when I realize he’s trying to stay quiet. 

Okay Simon. You can do this. Just… go in there and help him. Yeah. 

I take a slow, deep breath and open the door carefully, pressing my lips together to prevent myself from making any sound when I see him. 

He’s perched on the end of his bed, knees pulled up into his chest. His face is hidden in his arms, and his shoulders are twitching every few seconds. 

I take another deep breath and walk over to him, then lightly sit behind him, wrapping my arms around his waist and resting my cheek on one of his shoulders. 

He stills, then relaxes back into me. He stops crying, but the twitching doesn’t stop. I frown. 

“Hey, it’s okay. Please don’t try to repress any of this. I know from experience that ignoring problems doesn’t do shit to make them go away.” 

He releases a small, shaky breath and nods. I angle my head so my chin is on his shoulder and I can sort of see the side of his face as it crumples, tears falling silently down his cheeks. 

“It’s okay,” I say quietly, kissing his shoulder lightly and rubbing small circles into his waist where my hands rest. “You don’t need to hide anything, promise.” 

He fully falls apart at that, shaking his head and choking on his breath. He curls into a tighter ball and I move my cheek to rest back on his shoulder, holding him quietly as he slowly breaks down. 

“I…I-I don’t—”

“Shh,” I whisper. “Just keep breathing.” I press closer to him until my chest is flat against his back and take a deep breath, knowing he can feel the movement. 

He inhales shakily with me the first few times, then grows more steady after one or two more breaths. We sit quietly for a minute, breathing together without as much exaggeration now that he’s calm again. 

“Do you wanna talk about it?” He freezes, then hesitantly shakes his head. 

“N-No. Not right now. Just give me a minute.” I nod against his shoulder. 

“Of course.” 

A few more minutes pass before he sighs, leaning his weight into my chest. I just hold him tighter. 

“I’m… I’m fine now.” I smile softly, nudging my nose against his jaw in encouragement. His breath hitches before he clears his throat. 

“Um. I just…” He takes another breath (lots of breathing we’re doing here) and tangles his fingers together nervously. 

“Do you want me to talk for a minute?” He sighs, clearly relieved. 

“Please.” 

I smile, pressing another kiss onto his shoulder. 

“I talked with Agatha.” He goes completely rigid. 

…Oh, so that’s what this is about. 

“And?” He asks, voice cracking. 

“We broke up,” I say quietly. He laughs, more of a shocked huff, then turns his head to give me a disbelieving look. I smile easily, shrugging. He glances down at my shoulders before looking back up to my face, evidently more interested in our conversation than my irritating habits. 

“But… you two are literally perfect.” I shake my head. 

“As friends. We’ve never really felt like a couple. Everyone just thought we’d be perfect together and that was that; it was almost decided for us.” 

Baz stares at me with wide, stunned eyes. “Wait, but in the halls you looked like—”

Oh… Baz.

“I was shocked because I thought I’d have a bit longer to find a way to tell her I wanted to end things. Nothing more.” Baz bites his lip and looks down at his hands as they pick at his comforter. I sigh. 

“I guess being in the spell helped me realize that I wasn’t happy in a relationship. Being with someone and not knowing if what I was feeling was genuine or just something expected of me, it was overwhelming.” Baz deflates, closing his eyes and dropping his head. 

“Right.” 

I squeeze him once, then rest my forehead on his shoulder and take a deep breath in through my nose. He smells like cedar and bergamot, making me melt into the familiar scent. 

This, I think. This was what I was missing. 

“I realized that being with Agatha wasn’t making me happy at all. I had settled down by fifteen.” I laugh, shaking my head against his blazer. “It wasn’t what either of us wanted.” 

Baz nods, looking heartbroken. He’s not getting it. 

I press my lips together, then reach forward to tuck some of his hair behind his ear. 

“The spell made me realize, it made me realize that the one thing I wanted was right in front of me this whole time. Literally, actually, right now.” Baz blinks, then turns to look at me with a frown. 

“What?” 

I smile. “You’ve been here, with me, this whole time. It took four long, traumatizing fairy tales to figure it out, but I got there eventually.” 

He shakes his head, looking completely lost, but still so hopeful that it makes something in my chest burn. “I… I don’t understand.” 

“I love you,” I say simply, and he gasps softly. There we go. “I love you, and the way you talk about your siblings, and your surprised laugh, and very, very occasionally, your blush.” I reach up to poke his barely-pink cheek. His eyes are wider than I’ve ever seen them. 

“I love how smart you are, even under extreme pressure. I love that you humor my stupid questions while you’re trying to think, and I love your genuine smile, and I love dancing with you.” His eyes fill with tears again, but this time he’s smiling so I think I’m doing okay. 

“I love how you take every chance you get to be as dramatic as humanly possible, even in life or death situations.” Baz laughs wetly, reaching up to wipe his face. “I love seeing you so genuinely happy while staring at a flower just because I gave it to you.” 

“I love how protective of those you love, and how willing you’d be to do anything—” My breath hitches as I get flashbacks to the pillar crashing down on him. “Anything to save them.” He shivers, leaning further into me. I take it as an invitation to keep going.

“I love how strong you are, and how you call me out on my bullshit because sometimes I don’t realize exactly how badly I fucked up and you don’t hesitate to make it clear. But in a good way.” 

I quickly kiss his cheek, smiling to myself when he laughs breathlessly, tipping his head back to blink at the ceiling. 

“I love how you treat my fears seriously, no matter how irrational they are. And how, despite the absolute train wreck that spell was, you never once failed to find a way to mock me, even when you didn’t have a voice to mock me with. You never lost your charming asshole-ism.” 

He snorts. It’s becoming one of my favorite sounds. It proves that he’s not completely proper and fancy all the time. That he doesn’t feel the need to be perfect around me (which makes him seem more perfect to me, cheesy as that sounds). 

“I especially loved being taller than you, but unfortunately you had to have one flaw.” I shake my head sadly, trying my best to not laugh when he rolls his eyes. “Three inches from perfection. Hm, it’s such a tragedy.” 

“Oh, you wish.” He scoffs, smiling down at me with bright, dazed eyes. I hum, closing my eyes and inhaling easily. The smell of his shampoo instantly calms any of my remaining nerves and I open my eyes, gazing at him patiently as he tries to process everything I just said. 

And boy, did I say a lot. Whoever told me I’m terrible with words can go fuck off (except for Baz. I’m not letting him leave any time soon), I just improvised that fucking poetry and I didn’t stutter once. 

“That was pretty good,” I smile, then scowl when Baz finishes with, “you know, for someone who didn’t recognize me even after spending an entire evening conversi—”

“Shh—” I hold a finger up to his lips and hold back a smile when he laughs. His lips drag across my finger and I can’t hold back my own laugh as I watch him. “That was one time, and it wasn’t even that bad.” 

“You’ve lived with me for nearly eight years!” He barely spits the words out through his laughter and I snort, hiding my face in his shoulder. 

“Nonsense,” I break off for a second to compose myself. “Your face was covered.” 

“By a nearly sheer scarf—” 

“LITERALLY WHEN DID I SAY I WAS OBSERVANT?” 

He throws his head back, entire body shaking as he dissolves into silent cackling and covers his face with his hands. I try to hold myself together, but I’m convinced it’s impossible for anyone to look at the pure mirth emanating from Baz without breaking down with him.

He tips back far enough to collapse onto the bed and I lean heavily on my arms, my sides aching. Every few seconds he’ll let out a small squeak and it’ll set me off into hysterics again. 

I eventually take a deep breath and wipe my eyes, still shaking slightly as I hold back more laughter. 

Baz sighs, still giggling quietly as he wipes his own face. I just stare, entranced with the way his chest rises and falls erratically, the way his hair moves when he blows it out of his face, the way he smiles when he’s close to cracking up again. 

He drags his hands down his face and looks over to me, biting his lip to hold back another laugh. 

“What?” His voice is quiet and light, and the corners of his lips seem to keep lifting higher whenever he tries to suppress a smile. 

“Nothing.” He hums, closing his eyes and rolling onto his side to face me. 

“...Thank you.” He opens one eye, hiding his smile in his arms. I shake my head. 

“Nothing to thank me for.” I drop down to lie next to him, on my side to face him directly. The school’s beds aren’t made for two people, and we’re at most a few inches apart. He shifts to prop his head up on his hand and just watches me. 

“What is it?” I whisper after a minute. He blinks slowly, then carefully reaches out and traces an odd pattern on the side of my neck. I shiver at both the coolness of his finger and the touch itself, giving him a questioning look. 

“You’re made of constellations,” he mumbles, completely captivated with whatever invisible patterns he sees. Then his words seem to catch up with him and he moves his hand like it burns, the blood left in his body rushing to his face. 

I ignore the warmth in my own face and reach out to take his hand, intertwining our fingers. 

“You know, I wonder what a day with you saying everything that came to your mind would be like.” Baz looks thoughtful for a moment before smirking at me. 

“I don’t know if you’d recover from the insults.” I scoff, putting my empty hand to my heart in mock offense. 

“Why, Basilton,” I put on a posh voice. He wrinkles his nose and sticks his tongue out, making me laugh. “That’s no way to treat your… roommate.” He gives me an unimpressed look at my lame finish and I shrug, laughing harder when he shoves me back by the shoulder. 

I roll right back to him, then squeeze his hand. He reciprocates and swallows, nervously biting at his lip. I carefully reach up to pull his lip away from his teeth with my thumb, making him inhale sharply through his nose. 

“What are we, then?” I ask. He furrows his eyebrows. 

“What do you mean?”

I sigh. “I mean, like, we’re more than roommates, we’re definitely more than friends…” I trail off, making eye contact with him. I definitely know where I stand in regards to this, but I don’t want to push him or move too fast.

 He looks conflicted, then stares over my shoulder with an indifferent face. Wha—Come on!

“I suppose, if you—” 

“Hey, woah. None of this ‘I suppose’ stuff. What’d we say about the whole fancy talk thing?” He glares at me. What!!

“Too complicated of words for you, Snow?” I frown, both at the name and the odd hostility in his voice. 

“No? I just don’t know why you got all closed off. And now you’re defensive.”

His eyes flash and he sits up, tense. 

No, no no no! Wrong direction, he’s taking this in the wrong direction! He’s on the wrong side of the fucking road, driving backwards into confusion land and HOLY FUCK SIMON STOP THINKING. 

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” I scoff, pushing myself up to sit next to him. 

“Come on, Baz. You totally just got all weird there.” 

He turns to me sharply. “‘Weird’? What’s that supposed to mean?” 

I could scream. I could legitimately scream. Where is this coming from?

“I mean, I asked you a question and you completely closed off. You wouldn’t even look at me, and–hey wait.” I stand as he storms towards the door. “Baz!” I rush over to him and grab his wrist before he can reach for the knob. 

“Let me go.” He grits out, not turning to look at me. I tug on his wrist until he has no choice but to turn around. 

“Hey, talk to me.” He blinks a few times and I’m stunned when I realize he’s trying to blink tears away. “Baz…” 

“Just. Stop.” He tries to pull his hand away but I hold tight, stepping closer to him until we’re nearly chest to chest. 

“Listen to me, okay?” He huffs, then nods, jaw clenching. 

“Fine.” 

I take a deep breath, then grab his other hand. 

“I want to call you my boyfriend.” My voice is quiet as I stare down at our hands. His head snaps up but I keep my eyes focused on the way his fingers fit with mine. 

“Wh—”

“I want to be able to hold your hand, and meet your siblings, and listen to your aunt verbally assault me because I’ve learned that that’s just the way she expresses affection.” 

I finally look up at him, smiling sadly when I see tears running down his cheeks. I lean forward and lightly kiss one away from his jaw, then pull our hands up between us. “I want to read with you on lazy afternoons, and go out and just have fun for a day.” 

Baz squeezes our hands. “I want that too.” 

“Then what happened back there?” He deflates a bit, looking at the ground. 

“I was… defensive. I know.” I nod lightly, waiting for him to continue. “It’s just. I’ve wanted this for so long. And I don’t know, I just…” He stops and I pull our hands up higher to kiss his knuckles. 

“Take your time. I’m not going anywhere.” He sighs shakily and nods. 

“Right. I just got overwhelmed and snapped at you. It’s a lot, you know? I mean, my father is practically allergic to emotions, and I’ve used a ‘blank face’ as you've taken to calling it to block out any strong feelings.” He presses his lips together and shifts uncomfortably. “I’m sorry. I’m working on it.” 

I bump his chin up to look at me and give him an encouraging smile. “It’s okay. Thank you for telling me. And,” I make sure he’s paying attention before continuing. “I’m sorry too. I shouldn’t have called you weird or closed off.” 

He smiles, shaking his head. “We’re already so bad at this.” 

I laugh, bumping our foreheads together. “I know. But that’s okay, because we’ve made it this far convincing ourselves that we hate each other, and we’re still alive. We surely can’t be in more danger than say… the days you pushed me down the stairs and sent a chimera after me.” Baz groans. 

“For the last time, you fell down those stairs. And the chimera attacked me too, so we’re technically even!” I laugh, letting his hands drop to hold his face. 

“Sure.” He opens his mouth to respond and I reach up on my toes before he can even start talking, smiling when he instantly shuts up to kiss me back. I move my hands to his shoulders and press him against the door, sighing happily when his fingers curl into my blazer. 

It’s weird, kissing him when I’m shorter. Good weird, somehow. I think I like it better than when I was taller. It’s more fitting, in a way. I like being able to pull him down to my level. 

“—better not be snogging or something equally as traumatizing—” I barely have time to process the voice on the other side of the door before it’s opening, dropping Baz and I onto the floor outside of our room. 

“MERLIN!” Penny shrieks, jumping back and pointing her ring at us. Baz groans, glaring at me, then Penny. 

“I’m blaming you if I get a concussion from all of this falling.” Penny scoffs, hopping over our legs to walk into our room. 

“Behold the field in which I grow my fucks,” she says, dropping onto his bed with an exhausted sigh. He gapes, looking torn between laughing and scowling at her. 

“Get your shoes off of my sheets,” he ends up going with, giving me a small smile when I help him stand. 

Penny waves a lazy hand, toeing her Mary Janes off and kicking them onto the floor. 

“How are you even up here? Why don’t the wards stop you?” Baz steps closer, clearly trying to look somewhat intimidating. It’s sort of comical, since his clothes are wrinkled, his hair is a disaster, and his lips are much pinker than usual (I did that. I’m very proud). 

Evidently, Penny feels the same because she just gives him an amused once over and stretches across his blankets, making him wrinkle his nose in disgust. 

He scoffs, but relaxes when I come up behind him and wrap my arms around him, brushing his hair to the side and pressing a light kiss on the back of his neck.

Penny makes a gagging sound and sits up, looking very displeased. I grin at her from over Baz’s shoulder. 

“I have made a very, very big mistake, haven’t I?” 

Baz hums. “Probably.” I smack him lightly, then reach up and kiss him quickly when he turns to face me. 

“GUYS. GET A ROOM.” We pull away from each other and blink at her, then look out at the room, then back at her while she watches in fascinated horror. “You two move in sync now, okay. This is normal. What the fuck.” 

“Penny,” I interrupt her before she gets the whiteboard out and starts writing a Know and Not Know list because she’s getting that manic look in her eyes. I sit next to her on the bed (much to Baz’s annoyance) and wrap my arms around her in a hug. 

“Yes?” She asks, her voice squeaky and slightly hysterical. 

“Thank you.” She falters, looking at me with confusion. 

“What?” 

I smile. “Thank you. If you didn’t put us in the spell, I don’t think I ever would have been this happy.” I look up at Baz, who’s watching me with a look softer than I think he’s ever allowed himself around other people. Penny notices this as well, because she’s looking between us with something akin to weary resignation. 

“Damn, you two are too cute for me to feel properly resentful.” Baz scoffs, crossing his arms. 

“You feel resentful? I have some words for you.” 

She raises an eyebrow. “I’ve gotten roughly eleven hours of sleep max in the past two weeks.” 

I snort, resting my head on her shoulder and itching my nose when her curls brush against my face. Baz opens his mouth to retort before freezing, then turning to her looking nearly murderous. 

“Two. Weeks.” he grits out, eyebrow twitching. “You made me miss two weeks of classes.” 

I mean, it was nice knowing Penny. We had a lot of fun, and I honestly thought she would die by provoking a mythical creature so this is fitting, really. 

“Yeah, but you got a boyfriend out of it, so—”

I jump up and put my hands on his chest, holding him back from mauling my best friend on his own bed. 

“Baz, you’ve got to find a better way to channel that anger.” He glares at Penny over my shoulder before sighing sharply and scowling (read: pouting) down at me. 

“Two weeks, Simon.” 

“I know.” 

“Two weeks.”

I grab his wrists and hold them between us. 

“Baz, breathe.” He begrudgingly listens, then starts towards his desk. 

“...What are you doing?” 

He doesn’t bother looking over his shoulder as he reaches for his bag and I sigh. 

“Oh, no you don’t,” I wrap my arms around his waist and pull him away just before he can grab some sort of textbook or notebook. 

“Simon—”

“Nope. No work. We’re taking a mental health day—” I grunt as I drag him away from his work. It’s a lot more difficult with his *ahem* strength *ahem* and height, but I didn’t kill all of those monsters with fucking kindness so I manage just fine. 

“I missed two weeks—” 

“I’m aware.” 

“—of work, and I need to be at the top of our class by the end of the year, and—”

I turn him around and pull him down into a kiss, ignoring Penny’s loud “bleck” in the background. Baz melts into me, tension leaving him almost instantly. 

“Unfair,” he mutters before leaning in again.

I pull away just enough to keep our foreheads connected and sigh. “We are having a mental health day. You will worry about school tomorrow. Okay?” He nods slowly, eyes unfocused. I kiss him lightly again and pull away quickly then gently push him to sit on my bed. 

He drops onto the blankets with a dazed smile, lifting a hand to touch his lips. I watch him with a happy grin for a second before turning to Penny when her shoe hits the back of my head. 

“Penny!” She sticks her tongue out at me. 

“Is this what I’m going to be stuck with from now on?” I shrug, dropping next to her on Baz’s bed and resting my head on her shoulder. 

“I dunno. I hope so.” Baz is lying on his back now, arms spread out to his sides as he smiles at the ceiling like a dork. 

“I don’t. I have so many regrets right now.” I laugh quietly, watching Baz’s eyes droop. Penny rolls her eyes when she sees me staring, then falters when she looks over and sees him nearly entirely passed out. “Si?”

“Hm?”

“Would… Do you think my spell was successful?” I pause to think about it for a second. 

“...I mean, it did its job, yes. It felt so real. At times I forgot I was even in a spell. It’s very impressive, Pen.” She smirks, then looks more serious. 

“But..?” 

“But…The idea of taking a bath terrifies me. If it started pouring while I was outside, I don’t think I could guarantee I wouldn’t immediately spiral into a panic attack. Baz can’t handle small spaces, and I’m sure feeling too much pressure over his abdomen would make him pass out.” 

Penny frowns, clearly feeling awful. I wrap her in a hug, breathing in a comforting mix of herbs and chocolate that always seem to follow her.

“Don’t blame yourself. It wasn’t your fault, okay?” She takes a shaky breath, staring at her hands. 

“Doesn’t mean I can’t feel terrible.” I sigh, playing with her hair while she thinks. 

“Is it time for lunch? I’m starving.” 

She snorts, then pats my hand and stands. “Yeah, yeah. C’mon, let’s see if we can satisfy that bottomless pit inside of you.” I freeze.

Bottomless pit. 

My magic. 

Merlin, how could I have forgotten my own magic? 

Not once since I’ve gotten here have I felt it rise up like it does when I’m overwhelmed. 

I look over to Baz, fast asleep on my bed. Maybe…

“Simon? Everything okay?” Penny’s holding the door for me with a raised eyebrow. I shake my head, then jog over to her. 

“Yeah, yeah I’m good. I’m really good.” I spare one last glance back at Baz then close the door softly. 

***

“A hydra?!” Penny and Agatha shriek together, attracting the attention of the nearby tables. 

Well, most of them had been staring since I walked in. Apparently news spreads fast when you kiss your enemy of seven years in Magic Words. 

Who knew?

I shrug easily, not noticing their eyes bug out as I stuff half a roll in my mouth. I missed Watford food so bad, it’s not even slightly funny. 

“It wasn’t too bad. I’ve seen the movie so many times, I knew I’d be fine.” Agatha sighs heavily, pressing her fingers to her temples. 

“But you couldn’t know,” Penny laments. I wave her off. 

“I’m fine. It’s not a huge deal.” Agatha throws her own roll at me. “Hey!” 

“Dumbass. You could have died.” I gape, then shake my head and laugh. 

She’s much more relaxed than she usually is, and as terrible as it seems, I’m pretty sure it’s because we’re officially broken up. She’s almost more affectionate towards me now that our relationship is over. It’s nice, having my friend back. 

“Oh, my tea’s cold,” Agatha sticks her tongue out, placing her mug on the table. Without even thinking, I reach over and poke it.

“Here, I got it.” 

Penny and Agatha flinch back, expecting an explosion. Once I process what I’m doing, I jerk back too, covering my face with my arms. 

“What…?” Agatha’s shaking voice makes us blink at her mug, which is still in one piece and… steaming. 

“Simon.” Penny’s voice is awestruck, as she stares at the mug. “Simon, that was wandless magic, wandless magic that worked and didn’t end in an explo—”

CRACK.

“GET DOWN!” 

We all duck under the table as the mug self-destructs, tea going everywhere and spilling over the sides of the table, directly onto Agatha’s head. 

We crawl back up to the table hesitantly and I wince, holding my breath as Agatha drops heavily into her seat, face unreadable as she wipes tea off of her face. 

“Uh. I’m so so so—”

“Heh.” I cut myself off when she laughs, then she laughs harder, then she’s holding her sides and cackling, and Penny starts, then I’m off too and suddenly a silent commons is staring at us as we wheeze over a pile of glass shards. 

Sounds about right. 

“Hey.” We all freeze when a loud thud sounds, announcing the arrival of Dev and Niall. They slide into the seats by Penny and Dev nudges her with an unreadable look. She gives him a small, vague nod and he beams, turning to stare at me. 

“Uh. Hello.” Niall squints at me, then smiles. 

“How’s Baz?” 

Suddenly all four of them are very interested in what I have to say next. I shrug awkwardly, unable to make eye contact with any of them for more than a second. Especially not with them all sitting in a row as they stare me down, what the fuck. 

“He’s fine? He’s asleep in our room right now.” Penny gives Dev a meaningful nudge. 

“In Simon’s bed.” I slap my hands over my face as I feel it burn and groan. 

“Don’t say it like that.” I hear a quiet clapping sound and look up just in time to see Dev and Niall quickly put their hands at their sides. Strange…

“You thirsty?” Agatha smiles kindly and passes a (non-shattered) mug down the table towards them, filled with steaming tea. 

“Thank you, Agatha.” Niall says cordially, and Dev nods, accepting another cup as they’re passed down. I just blink stupidly at them all, completely lost as the four keep non-subtly high fiving, fist pumping, and just giving weird, solidarity head nods. 

“I feel like I’m missing so—”

“Why ever would you think that?” Dev interrupts, smiling sharply at me. I snap my mouth shut and put my hands up, shaking my head. 

“I don’t think I want to know.” 

“You don’t.” They all chorus together, in terrifying synchronization. 

“Psst.” We all turn to the other end of the table, where Gareth hissed. “Was the operation successful?” I raise my eyebrows and look at the others, who all nod together. He throws his fists in the air. Rhys, sitting across from him, gives me a wide, knowing grin and two thumbs up. 

Okay what the fuck.

Chapter Text

Baz

“I miss Rajah.”

Simon tilts his head back to look at me. “You can’t get a tiger.” 

I hum and twirl one of his curls around my finger. 

“We’ll see.”

“Baz, please.” 

I feel my lips lift into a small smile as I gaze down at him before shaking my head and turning back to my laptop screen resting on his lap. 

He relaxes further against my chest, watching the opening sequence of Cinderella. 

It's been a few months since we were released from the spell and the teachers gave all students a day off while they prepped for the newest term, so I suggested spending it watching “our movies” on my laptop. I can tell Simon’s not entirely sure how I got the device in here without getting it confiscated, but it’s funny watching him try to guess. 

He’s leaning back against me and I’m more content than ever with my arms wrapped around him.

Dev and Niall said they had some sort of important thing to do, and according to Simon, Penny and Agatha said the same. They’ve all been acting strange around us since we’ve gotten back, but not in a bad way. It’s like they’re almost overly supportive of our relationship. 

Not that I’m complaining. Just suspicious.

I press my lips against the side of Simon's head and he sighs contentedly, tipping his head back to kiss my jaw. 

“I love you.” 

“Mm, I love you too.” 

“You’re still not getting a tiger.” 

I smack him with a pillow, laughing when he shrieks and throws a blanket over my face. 

“You can try to stop me, Snow.” He twists until he’s facing me directly, then leans up on his elbows and makes me reach up to kiss him. (I do it. I’ll always do it.)

“I’m allergic to cats,” he murmurs when I pull away, and my jaw drops. 

“You’re kidding.” He laughs at whatever expression I’m making. 

“Yeah, I’m kidding.” I smack him with another pillow, grinning as he laughs hard enough to tip off of the small bed. “...Ow.” 

I sniff, rolling over to face away from him. 

“That’s what you deserve.” 

“Hey, don’t give me that.” I feel the bed dip as an arm wraps around my waist, flipping me over to face him. 

“What?” I give him my best glare, which doesn’t do much now that he’s had so much exposure to it and seen me cry when Swithin said my name for the first time. (It was more baby babble than anything, but there was a very clear “Bazza!” and I still tear up every time I think of it). 

Turns out showing vulnerability can make you much less scary to a person. Who knew?

“You’re so cute when you’re grumpy.” He squishes my cheeks together, laughing to himself. Fucking hilarious.

“M’ not cute,” I mumble, swatting his hands away. He laughs again, then tucks himself into my side and plays with a string on the sweatshirt I’m wearing. (It’s his. I love it.)

“You’re adorable.” I scowl. 

“You’re a great boyfriend.” 

“I’d like to think so, yes.” 

Damn him. 

He smirks (tries to, actually, and fails) and takes my hand, gently kissing my knuckles. 

“If you warn a wish, it won’t come true. And after all..."

We both pause and turn to the laptop, sitting untouched at the other end of the bed. I lace our fingers together and he smiles, wrapping his free arm around me comfortably.

“A Dream Is A Wish Your Heart Makes.”