Waaaaaah, I'm soooorrry! *sob* I was totally gonna update Sing For Me, Nightingale but…
BUT…
WAAAAAH!
I saw this beautiful art on Tumblr of a Tangled!AU for Viktuuri and I was positively drooling over it, SO I COULDN'T HELP MYSELF CRYYYYYYY
P.S. chapter five for Sing For Me, Nightingale will be released soon, so keep an eye out for it if you're anxious for the new chapter :D
Also if someone could give me the name of the artist who created the fanart, that would be awesome~~
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"He's gorgeous."
"Look at him… So energetic."
"Oh, dear, he's opening his eyes!"
It's warm. It's so warm and he loved it, and a sound of content escaped his small lips as slowly he managed to figure out how to get rid of that annoying darkness.
Two blurry figures cooed at him overhead, and he couldn't help but laugh along, gently kicking his feet and swinging his fists in excitement.
So warm…
One of them bent down, and he squirmed in their arms, because goodness it felt so good and comfortable.
"Our little prince…"
He woke up without too much trouble, a small trail of dry drool falling from the corner of his lips.
He blinked rapidly, blue eyes looking up at his ceiling in confusion. What was he dreaming about, again?... Damn… He always forgot his dreams. It annoyed him at times, but he couldn't control it at all. How irritating.
Lips parted to let out a soft yawn before he swung his legs over the edge of his bed and wiggled his toes in the air. A small giggle escaped. Not wearing shoes was comfortable for him – it allowed him to have a small sense of freedom in this otherwise cursed tower.
Long, silver strands threatened to trip him as he absent-mindedly stepped over a thick bundle of said hair, stretching his back and moaning as his spine popped deliciously.
Viktor walked over to his mirror, bright eyes staring back with a mop of tangled and unruly hair sitting upon his head.
He winced. Brushing out the knots would take ages.
Pouting lightly, Viktor set to work, grabbing his favorite red brush and sitting down on the stool.
He took his time, knowing that if he rushed he would definitely cause some severe pain. He languidly brushed his hair, starting from where it began at his scalp and slowly making his way down and around to the many feet of strands he had.
Boring.
So boring.
XxXxXxXxXxX
This is the story of someone very beautiful. Someone very special.
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Viktor let out a small huff of a cross between laughter and exasperation as he managed to reach the middle point, but even still, he had over forty feet of hair to go. It was exhausting and labor-intensive, but it provided him something to do with his hands at least.
It's been about two hours now since he woke up, and feeling no longer groggy, he started to hum softly.
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Once upon a time, a single drop of starlight fell from the heavens.
And from this single drop of starlight grew a magic, silver flower.
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Viktor paused for a moment, hesitating before hopping down the stairs and rushing over to the one window they had.
He pushed open the wooden barriers, and like he broke through the ocean's surface, sweet air filled his lungs.
He breathed in the oxygen deeply, leaning against the opening and watching with incredibly curious and wondering eyes. Viktor didn't mind the height. He had lived with it his whole life – there was no reason to be afraid of it.
His gaze swept across the small gorge, hungry for the outside world.
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Years later, a kingdom was built.
And the queen was about to have a baby.
But… She fell sick. Really sick.
She was running out of time, and that's when they started looking for a miracle. Or… A magic silver flower.
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Viktor sat on the ledge, his feet dangling in the air as he finally reached the tips of his hair, brushing them just once more and leaning back in exhaustion.
He pouted a little as he let his hair flow freely, the long locks of silver flowing gently in the breeze.
What did grass feel like? Was ocean water really full of salt? Did people dance and have fun like they did in his books?
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The magic of the silver flower healed the queen.
A prince was born, with beautiful, silver hair.
His name was Viktor.
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Viktor let out a small giggle as the beautiful bird landed on his finger, gently nipping at his skin affectionately.
"Hello there," he muttered. "I see you came back earlier than usual, Phichit. Did you miss me?"
Phichit let out a tweet, his brown eyes glittering warmly.
Viktor laughed. "I always miss you, Phichit. Do you want to play something?"
The bird looked almost exasperated, fluttering back into the air and gesturing with his tail down to the earth below.
Viktor frowned. "It's not that bad in the tower."
The bird only rolled his eyes as Viktor scooped him from the air and raced away from the window.
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But… A bitter and resentful woman grew furious at this birth of the prince.
For they had taken her flower, the one that granted her eternal youth and beauty.
And so, she snuck into the castle, and stole Viktor.
She kept him hidden in the woods, locked in a towering castle, where she knew no one would steal her flower ever again.
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Viktor couldn't help but sing lightly to himself, twirling on his feet and dancing over his locks of silver hair as he went around to occupy himself.
"Mother should be back soon," he told himself rather vaguely as he spun on one foot.
It was a secret pleasure, dancing like this. It almost reminded him of what floating on ice would be like. Free movement, the music created with one's body… Viktor's heart ached.
He grimaced and immediately stopped.
He should… Go finish some chores.
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Yet Viktor could not help himself.
Every year on his birthday, he would sneak past her to the window, and look in awe as hundreds of twinkling lights were let go, in hopes that one day their lost prince would return.
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Viktor finally finished with everything, and he submitted to his feelings once more.
His legs carried him across the floor, gracefully avoiding piles of his silver locks and flowing his arms through the air. His eyes were half-lidded, hearing a music that no one else could listen to but himself.
It's me, his heart cried as he twirled through the air and spread his arms out as if greeting someone with a warm hug.
This was Viktor.
It was him.
This – dancing – it gave Viktor something he thought he would never have. Freedom.
And suddenly, his heart sang, and he let out something akin to a laugh as he gave one last spin before finishing with his hands cupped on his chest, as if he was gently cradling his carrier of emotions and assuring it. Shh. I know. Breathe. Dance. Wings. Freedom.
It was wonderful.
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Yuuri had never wanted this life.
It was purely for the money he so desperately needed. Not when – not when his sister was dying.
This routine (he thought with a grimace) had fallen into his hands at the mere age of eight. It absolutely horrified and disgusted him that it came so naturally to him.
Stealing.
Black market.
No.
No.
Now was not the time – he was on the job, dammit.
So he shook that feeling away until all that was left was the one he needed at the moment.
"Eros."
A smirk made its way onto Yuuri's face without permission. He winced on the inside. The look on his sister's face… If she ever found out… She would hate him… She would definitely hate him… Just like their parents did.
"We only need a distraction." Yuuri drawled, his Eros persona coming in. He hated it. He hated Eros. "Then the tiara is ours."
"Right," his accomplice muttered. Yuuri's eyes were fixed upon the brunette.
Not only did he get dragged into a life of deception and pain, but he had chained a young teen with him as well. A boy who was too young – too new – to get into this sort of style. It felt so wrong and horrible… But Yuuri knew that if he didn't, then the boy would definitely have died on the streets he found him in.
"Eren."
Green eyes flashed up, and for a second, the boy's façade broke away from his steely gaze. Yuuri only called him by his name when they were – were off the job – why was he…?
Yuuri was still, looking over this brunette whom he had taken care of and looked after for so long. Still too young…
"We don't split this." Yuuri's voice was still smooth, still calm and collected, but his eyes were somber and full of regret as he stared at Eren. "It's yours. Take it and leave."
"I… What?" Eren asked, taken back. "E… Eros…"
"Too young." Yuuri muttered, tearing his eyes away and gazing down below them. The guards had taken absolutely no notice of them. Good. "I never should have dragged you into this kind of life, Eren… I'm responsible…"
Eren's eyes widened slightly before they narrowed. Ah. That was what Yuuri had taken an interest in all those years ago. That small boy who held such passion and determination in his eyes…
"Fuck you," Eren said simply. "I'm not ditching you and you know it."
"Eren – " Yuuri's voice was a little more rough now, reminding them both that Yuuri was a fully grown man at twenty-three while Eren was a mere fifteen.
Yet…
"NO." Eren snarled back. "Now shut up. We got a tiara to get. I don't want the money, your… your sister needs it. Hand me the rope."
Yuuri's eyes hardened once more into the persona he absolutely despised. Eren was right. This could wait. At least until after they received the money they need.
"Ready."
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Yaaaaay, here's the first chapter! I tweaked some things here and there to fit them more, like I changed Yuuri's name to Eros when he's 'working', I also made it a drop of starlight, yadda yadda.
Concerning Yuuri's – ah – apprentice, yes, I am heavily referencing him on Eren Jaeger from Attack On Titan. Sue me, I had no idea who to put Yuuri's sidekicks as and none of the other characters quite fit.
Sorry if that possibly makes you uncomfortable, but since Eren is here, Levi will also be here. Yes I am a hardcore Ereri fan, and if you don't like it, don't worry. It won't be pronounced that much and only subtle hints.
This is, after all, focused on Viktuuri and some other things. This is by no means a crossover, but rather like borrowing two characters from a different fandom.
Ummm, thank you all for reading, and uhhhh look out for updates on all of my other fics.
The next chapter for this will be out iiiiiinnn… A few days, maybe? A week at most.
GoooodBYE!