When they were little, things were much easier. Ingrid had Greta, and Greta had Ingrid. No one ever told them that Ingrid's mother was the Wicked Witch, and no one ever told them that Greta's mother and uncle baked Ingrid's mother alive in her own oven. Ingrid was just told her mother was gone, and Greta was just told that her mom just wasn't good at baking.

When they were six, Greta wandered up to the forrest on the hill. Her mother didn't want her or her brother, Hans, going in, but Greta was too curious not to. She traveled so far into the forrest that she couldn't find her way out, and so she kept walking. When the sun shone directly over the leaves above her, Greta walked with tired limbs into a clearing, where a house the likes of which she had never seen was being eaten by a lean child with blonde hair. Green streaks shimmered in the unruly mess, and at first Greta had thought they were just the sun shining through the leaves. The child turned away from the house with crumbs on its puffed-out cheeks.

"Auwhoa," they said before swallowing down hard the gingerbread in their mouth. "I'm Ingrid." Ingrid stuck out a sticky hand before taking it back to wipe it on her dress. "Who are you?"

"I'm Greta, I live outside of the forest. What about you?"

"I live in the gingerbread house." Greta gave her a confused look.

"But, why would you eat your own house?" Ingrid giggled.

"'Cause it tastes good, why else?" She tore off an icing-covered corner and shoved it in her mouth, crumbs flying everywhere. "Beshid'sh, it wegen... repwu... comesh back." Greta looked at the hole in Ingrid's house and gasped as the hole grew closed. "Shee?" Greta nodded.

"Can I have some?" Ingrid swallowed hard again as she shook her head.

"No, papa says I'm the only one allowed." Greta pouted. "but maybe we can make you cookies!"

"It's okay, I don't really like sweets. I'm just hungry."

"Well maybe papa can make you regular food. Let's ask!" The two six year old girls ran into the house together, and for ten years everywhere they ran, they ran together.

When they turned sixteen, both girls were enrolled in Ever After Highschool, a school to teach Fairytale characters to follow their destined rolls. Greta ran into the woods with her acceptance letter and found Ingrid climbing up her house to grab at the chocolate shingles. Ingrid latched onto a shingle with her nails and Greta hollered up at her to announce her arrival.

"I got in, Ingy!" Startled, Ingrid lost her footing and fell to the ground with a squawk. She pulled out a crumpled letter with the same stationary as Greta's.

"Me too!" They squealed and met up in a bouncing hug. "Ow! Ow," Ingrid said, stopping their hug to rub at her sore bottom. Greta laughed.

"That's what you get for trying to grab your shingles instead of just eating the walls like you usually do." Ingrid pouted and shoved the chocolate into her mouth. "Why the change?"

"Ah fewt wike shelebwating," she tried to say petulantly through puffed-out cheeks. Greta chuckled.

"C'mon, lets go buy some new clothes for school." Ingrid rose an eyebrow. "And restock your candy stash." Ingrid grinned. "Why do you even need a stash, your whole house is a candy stash!"

"It's mostly for giving to people." She took out a lollipop and in a flash of green magic she replicated it into six lollipops. Once they entered the nearby village she held out the lollipops to a group of nearby children. "Hello," she said with a smile. The children, who had been playing with a ball and laughing, dropped what they were doing and ran, screaming. Ingrid stuffed a lollipop in her mouth as tears gathered in her eyes. "Why do they always run...?" She slumped down on the ground, clutching her knees. Greta glared at the running childen, but she was too old to pick fights with kids anymore and so she simply knelt down by Ingrid and hugged her tightly.

"Don't worry, when we go to school, it'll be different," Greta said sweetly in an attempt to console her friend.

"No it won't," said Ingrid, "It'll be even worse. We both saw your brother Hans' letters, everybody's fighting at Ever After High, as soon as they know who we are the 'royals' will take you away and tell me I'm evil and they'll be your new friends and you'll hate me forever after!" Ingrid burst into tears, the lollipop in her mouth falling to the ground. Greta looked down at her acceptance letter, then at her friend.

"They won't hate you," she said carefully, "They'll hate Ingrid Witch."

"Yeah, and that's me!" As Ingrid wailed, Greta gingerly took Ingrid's crumpled acceptance letter out of the pocket in her green skirt and placed her own in Ingrid's hand. Green eyes locked on brown as Ingrid went quiet. "No...no way..." Greta smiled and nodded. "No one would believe it! And besides, if you pretended to be me, you'd have to put up with all the things I have to deal with. I wouldn't wish that on anyone, especially not my best friend!"

"Don't worry about me, Ingy. I'm a lot tougher than you, I can handle it." Ingrid sighed, feeling guilty.

"I won't lie, I'd really like to not have people look at me the way they do," she said in a hushed tone as she looked into the village, where the last few straggling children were being pulled inside as their parents locked the doors. A tear slid down her face and she turned back to her friend. "But, I can't in good conscience ask you to do this for me." Greta wrapped her arms around her friend in a warm hug.

"You don't have to, Ingrid." Ingrid gave her friend a weak smile.

"Thanks, Greta."

"No problem." Greta stood and held her hand out to her friend. "You're way too sweet to just leave to the wolves anyway." Ingrid took her friend's hand and they walked into town. "now, let's go buy you some candy so you can eat your feelings when we get got school," Greta joked. Ingrid stopped in her tracks, and Greta looked to her friend.

"No more regenerating candy house?" Greta chuckled at her friend's terrified expression.

"Nope, you have to leave it here so you dad can live in it." Ingrid's shoulders slumped.

"Aw, man..."


AN: so, clearly I have two very serious issues:

1: I can't focus on more than one fic at a time.

2: I flit from fandom to fandom like a demented-ass butterfly.

3: I am 16 and obsessed with children's cartoons.

There are no known cures for any of these severe, life-altering afflictions.