Prince Aladdin

shanastoryteller:

i just rewatched aladdin with the roommates and it got me thinking

aladdin wishes to be made a prince, but all genie does is get him a lot of stuff and money. that’s not what a prince is. a prince is the son of the king, someone in line for the throne. someone with a lot of money is just - rich. so what i think is:

genie goes okay, that’s a big one - and i can do it! but not on my own, not if you want to do it right. not if you truly want a chance to marry your princess for real, as a prince. and aladdin is a foolish, moral, kind boy - and he agrees. he’s fallen in love with jasmine, an innocent all encompassing love, and he’ll do anything for this sweet, clever girl he only knew for a few hours. so genie takes him across the desert, far from agrabah, and plops right in the middle of a skirmish and is like okay, good luck! and aladdin is like ?????

but there’s assholes with swords attacking a young girl, and aladdin doesn’t even have to think about that, just like when he stood in front of the whip for those little kids. there are three men against him, but he’s fast and clever and has been against a dozen trained palace guards. so it’s not easy to get out of there alive, especially with the little girl to protect, but he manages it with only a thin slice on his upper arm, and he’s endured worse for less. so he picks up the little girl and says “i think we should get out of here, hmm?” and she’s in a pretty red silk getup with tiny jewels encrusted on her like stars against sunset. and she nods and throws her arms around his neck. she won’t talk, only points in the direction of home, but aladdin’s okay with that, he’s used to quiet, scared kids. so he keeps up a steady stream of stories of agrabah, which seems almost like this other desert land. but there are more men with swords and aladdin is like what the fuck is going on, but he hides the girl in a corner and fights them too. and that’s how it goes all the way home. there’s no one on the streets really, and they all scatter when the men attack, and they keep on attacking, he fights his way all the way through the city with the girl on his hip or hidden away.

and he should have known, of course, but he was tired and bruised and bleeding by the time he realized the little girl is silently guiding him to the palace and he’s like why can’t you princesses stay inside??? but he walks up and the guards get one look at the child in his arms and whisk him through and multiple people try to take the girl away but she won’t budge from him, a stubborn pout to her lips as her hands remained locked behind his neck. and he’s finally tossed into a throne room where a tall old man is sitting in agony and two young men pace in front of him, each at least a decade older than aladdin. “they’ve taken our sister!” one of the younger men hiss, “i don’t care about their power or their connections, they’ve taken esfir, and we must go get her!”

“uh,” he clears his throat, “hi?”

and all three men whirl on him and the old man stumble-runs to him. esfir finally lets go of aladdin to picked up and twirled around by her father. the two men are rahim and shapur and they look in wonder at this dirty boy of fifteen who’s returned the girl to them, and he speaks with an accent and clearly is not from here and they get the story from him - he’s traveled across the desert because those in his own country want him dead. “you know,” rahim says as the king clutches at esfir in desperate relief, “you could have held her for ransom. you almost died saving her, and we would have paid handsomely to have her returned safely.”

and aladdin gives him a flat disapproving look, appearing in this moment four times his age, and says “people are not objects or bargaining chips. especially not lost little girls.” and rahim and shapur share an impressed conspiring look and they each grab one of his arms and lead him away. “hey! what are you -”

“do be quiet little brother,” shapur says cheerfully, “we really have to get you out of your rags.”

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(via windbladess)

pathlesspagan:

pipistrellus:

when ppl act like leaving gifts for fairies is to get the fairies’ attention so they’ll be kind to you~~ when really leaving gifts for fairies is the supernatural equivalent of a mafia protection racket

😂😂😂😂

(via cthulhu-with-a-fez)

what’s a fire and how does it - what’s the word? - burn

nehirose:

voidbat:

shanastoryteller:

so i have this disney playlist i listen to usually when i’m driving and i was blasting poor unfortunate souls this morning and i was thinking

what if ariel didn’t sign the scroll?

because she’s about to, okay, and she looks at the paper. the parchment made of seaweed, the ones that’s specially treated to survive underwater. and she thinks of her cave of treasures, her books that remain perfectly preserved underwater. “no thank you,” she says slowly, becoming keenly aware of air of this place, of the not-people she’d seen who hadn’t been able to pay the price for sea witch’s bargain. “i – no. thank you. but no.”

ursula tries to convince her otherwise, but ariel runs. she goes back to her cave, destroyed as it was by her father’s anger, and thinks.

she’s the daughter of triton. her books never got wet, though she lives in the ocean. she feels a pull inside her, to the land, to somewhere else, but what if – what if –

what if she doesn’t need the sea witch or her father to perform magic for her? what if she has her own?

ursula had wanted her voice because that’s how she performed her magic. singing in this cave had given it powers and protection, and when she saved her prince from the sea – she sang then too, to keep him safe, to guide him back to life and away from death.

so she has magic. she only needs to figure out how to use it.

so that’s what ariel does now. she’s quiet and keeps to herself, and her father and sisters think that it’s because she’s upset with her father, that she’s busy licking her wounds. she’s moved on from that. she has no trident, and is uninterested with fueling her magic with the souls of the damned like ursula has. so she needs to figure something else out.

she does what she’s not supposed to do, and goes where she’s not supposed to go, slipping past the guards and patrols to the one place in the sea that is forbidden to all of them.

the crevice in the earth where what remains of her grandmother lives.

ariel goes to amphitrite, and the sea goddess is so much bigger than ariel, the size of great whale as she curls at the bottom of the sea floor, too old and too tired to do anything more than sleep. “granddaughter,” the great being croaks, opening an eye as blue and as unfathomable as the sea, “you look like me.”

“they say i look like my mother,” she says, and to herself adds: that’s why father can barely stand to look at me.

“you have more of me in you than your mother,” she says, and she shifts and pulls her mass of red hair over her shoulder. “more of me in you than your father does, even.”

“i have magic,” she says, pulling her bravery to the fore as she swims closer to her grandmother, “i want you to teach me how to use it.” amphitrite pushes herself up, and it’s the first time she’s moved in a millennia, and ariel notices for the first time that her grandmother isn’t a mermaid – she has legs.

she has legs.

“you have power,” amphitrite corrects fiercely, “and i will teach you to wield it.”

and so she does. ariel spends her nights by her grandmother, learning to harness the power of the sea that runs in her veins, and sleeps her days away while her sisters and flounder and sebastian grow more and more concerned, but she refuses to tell them why. she refuses to be stopped.

but her heart still aches. she fell in love with her prince, and she wants him still. so she swims to the edge, goes to the beach where his castle resides in the dead of night when her lessons with her grandmother are complete, and sings

. she’s careful not to let any magic leak through, only her voice. she does not want to enchant him. she wants him to love her as she is. so she sings, her voice clear and powerful and cutting through the air. she hopes he can hear it.

then one day a figure walks to the beach, and it’s him, her prince. “hello?” he calls out, “are you out there? are you – please, it was you that saved me, wasn’t it? won’t you come out and let me see you?”

so she does, waves her tail at him until he catches sight of her and takes hesitant, disbelieving steps closer.

“you’re a mermaid,” he says, eyes wide, “i thought i saw – but it couldn’t be.”

“i am, and it can,” she says, heart beating wildly in her chest. he’s just as handsome as she remembered, and she wants him just as much. “my name is ariel.”

“ariel,” he repeats, and pulls off his boots and goes wading into the water, watching her to see if she flinches away from him. she doesn’t, and his strides grow bolder. “my name is eric.”

“eric,” she whispers, and when he’s close enough he touches her, trailing fingers across the bare skin of her shoulder and tangling them in her hair.

when he kisses her, she feels powerful enough to undo the world.

so there’s that now, spending her nights with her grandmother and her prince, and she knows how to make her own legs now, could walk onto land and be made a queen among the two legged men.

but she’s a princess here first, and before she can do that she needs to take care of something.

ursula.

the rotten sea witch with her rotten sea magic won’t be allowed to torment her people any longer.

she tells her grandmother, and amphitrite smiles and says, “an excellent decision, child. i’ve enjoyed our time together, but i think it’s time for me to sleep once more. i’ve taught you everything i can.”

and tears prick ariel’s eyes, but she holds them back. she knew that it couldn’t be forever, that her grandmother can’t die but no longer desires to live and this is the in-between.

“you’ll be an amazing queen,” amphitrite murmurs, and closes her eyes for a millennia more.

this isn’t something to be done in the dead of night, although it would be easier to do it then.

she will make a spectacle of it, she will remind the sea that her people are not to be trifled with.

once upon a time they feared a blue eyed, red haired sea queen with the power to destroy them all. it’s time for them to do so again.

so she drives ursula to the center of the city. her sisters cower and people hide, and her father comes rushing forward to save her.

“you’ve committed great crimes against my people,” she says, not flinching as lightning gathers in the sea witch’s hands, “so now shall a great crime be committed against you.”

“foolish girl,” the sea witch snarls.

triton is yelling. he won’t get there in time.

he doesn’t have to.

she doesn’t need to sing anymore. instead she lifts her hands and pulls ursula apart without ever touching her, not only renders flesh from bone but also sets free the souls she’s been hoarding, reverses the magic done to those who’d fallen into the sea witch’s trap.

they all stare at her, her people, her father, and her sisters. she looks to triton and says, “i’m not a little girl anymore.”

he opens his mouth, closes it again, then says, “i can see that.”

all at once everyone’s perceptions are turned sideways about their youngest princess. she commands a power that even her father doesn’t have access to, she’s not depressed and dreamy – she’s powerful young woman who knows exactly what she’s doing.

so she does what she wanted to do, she gives herself legs and steps onto the sand and launches herself into eric’s arms. she becomes his bride, and the rumors run rampant of what she is, of where she came from, but they can’t prove anything and so they rule.

they live long, happy lives. ariel is his consort, his advisor, his wife, his tactician, and his best friend. all those years reading drowned books have certainly paid off. she ages herself along with her husband, bears his children and then teaches them they ways of her – their – people.

her husband dies, and she disappears, like the stories of selkie women that everyone whispers around her. their children give their father a sea burial, and vow to see him again one day. what they know and none of their subjects do is this – their father’s body isn’t in that casket.

she returns to her ocean, her legs form into her glittering green tail, and she goes home. she uses her terribly powerful magic, and brings her husband with her. she went from princess ariel of the sea to queen ariel of the land, and now she’s back again.

she’s not quite a teenager, but neither is she the old woman she pretended to be on land. she’s returned her and her husband to the prime of their life, and as she gained legs to be with him, he now gives his up to be with her.

eric becomes a merman, and a prince by virtue of being ariel’s husband.

she returns to her family and her world without missing a beat, and they all welcome her as if she never left, treat her husband with kindness and respect.

because they all know.

it doesn’t matter that she’s the youngest. when, far in the future, triton’s reign ends –

ariel’s reign will begin.

YYYYYEEEEEEEESSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSS @nehirose

OH MY GOD THE @ NOTIFICATION GOT BURIED SO I ONLY JUST SAW THIS?  AND IT’S SO AMAZING I’M REBLOGGING IT REGARDLESS OF IT NOT BEING SUNDAY BECAUSE IT’S AMAAAAAAAZING.

(via clockwork-mockingbird)

cinderella: redo

shanastoryteller:

so i was watching cinderella while doing my nails and waiting for them to dry which was clearly a Mistake because now i can’t help but think -

the evil stepmother was always evil, okay. say her abuse of her own daughters was different than that of cinderella’s - but it was still abuse. giving them impossible expectations, telling them they were never good enough, never pretty enough, never smart enough. and then she gets married, and anastasia and drizella are ecstatic because this man seems kind and warm and maybe just maybe he can temper their mother, maybe with him around she won’t be so cruel. so they’re on their very best behavior in the beginning, they do just as their mother taught - they trot out their best upper court manners in an attempt to get their new stepfather to like them. but it just comes off as cold and snooty and they’re trying, they are, they’re just bad at it. and they see how he is with cinderella, the smiling girl their own age, and they are jealous. they don’t mean to be, they try not to be, they know it isn’t becoming of young ladies. but she gets hugs and kisses and affection and they get rulers slapped on their hands when they reach for desert and sharp jabs to their sides when they slouch and - soon they hate cinderella, not for anything she’s done, but for what she has and they dont

but then her father dies. and it’s all a tumble of things and cinderella is crying and they’ve lost their only chance at escaping their mother’s clutches and it’s terrible. and everything settles and there’s no reason to be jealous anymore but resentment is hard to let go of and they don’t know what to do. they’re only kids too after all. and they’re so terribly bad at comforting people, they can do flowery words and know all the right bows but cinderella is so sad and they just don’t know what to do with that, because they’re supposed to be sisters but they’re not even friends

and slowly but surely their mother starts abusing cinderella, starts making her a maid in her own home, and she’s their mother, what are anastasia and drizella supposed to do? she rules them with an iron fist, and cinderella doesn’t even like them anyway, it’s none of their business.

except one night anastasia crawls into her sister’s bed in the middle of the night and wakes her up. “i was thirsty,” she explains, eyes wide and shiny, and they’re bad at this with other people but drizella has no problems with pulling anastasia into her arms. the younger girl clutches her sister and continues, “i was thirsty and i went down to the kitchen to get some water and - and cinderella is still up! she’s doing the dishes, and she should be asleep, mom is going to make her make breakfast in the morning and -” she cuts herself off with a hiccup and whispers, “it’s not fair.”

“life isn’t fair,” drizella says, echoing one of their mother’s favorite phrases. but her sister is staring at her with wet eyes, and it’s not like their mother is likely to get up before sunrise anyway, she hates waking up, so she pulls herself and anastasia out of bed and off they go.

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charminglyantiquated:

Coexisting With The Fair Folk Who Have Taken Up Residence In/Around/Beneath Your University: A How-To Guide

See more of my comics here, and my art here!

Whole bunch of lore/things I couldn’t fit/everything I love about the overlap in superstition and General College Weirdness below the cut-

Keep reading

incorrectdiscworldquotes:

roachpatrol:

magica-tenore-regina:

lizthefangirl:

ademigodgirl:

rainbow-bear:

A king has no sons, no daughters, and no queen. For this reason he must decide who will take the throne after he dies. To do this he decides that he will give all of the children of the kingdom a single seed. Whichever child has the largest, most beautiful plant will earn the throne; this being a metaphor for the kingdom. At the end of the contest all of the children came to the palace with their enormous and beautiful plants in hand. After he looks at all of the children’s pots, he finally decides that the little girl with an empty pot will be the next Queen. Why did he choose this little girl over all of the other children with their beautiful plants.

The seeds were all dead (burned, fake, etc.).  The other kids cheated and got different seeds and planted them.  The little girl didn’t cheat and was not able to grow anything because the seed was dead.  She was the only one who didn’t cheat.

damn

Nothing like original fairy tales! 

i get the moral it’s trying to convey but that king is an idiot and the kingdom’s doomed. you don’t appoint an honest kid who will forthrightly admit a failure like that to leadership of a country, you put that kid in charge of like… the army, or something. the department of agriculture. 

i’d send out dead seeds, then appoint the kid with the biggest and most beautiful plant anyway. ideally the same kind of plant as the dead seeds were from. and ideally a kid with a really good pokerface. that kid knows:

a) how to perceive failure early (a well developed second plant means they knew how soon the first seeds should sprout and didn’t fuck around when they didn’t) 

b) how to fix the situation (a second plant of the same species means they got someone to help them identify the seeds and plant more, or are observant enough to do it themselves)

c) how to get the best people for a job in to do it (kids aren’t great gardeners. a beautiful science project probably means mom did all the work— just what you want from a child ruler and their regent)

all around, that kid (or their mom) is the kind of devious results-oriented bald-faced liar you want to go toe-to-toe with the lords of your country and the rulers of your neighbors. not a little kid who admits defeat so early and in a situation with such high stakes. ‘whoops i didn’t grow a plant’ sounds a lot less sweet when you phrase it like ‘i give up on ruling my country’. 

you know, i think i’d also send agents out to encourage the kids to destroy each other’s plants. let’s see who’s good at seige warfare, too.

Did Lord Vetinari write that post?

(via slyrider)

naamahdarling:

roachpatrol:

charminglyantiquated:

so if there’s one single trope i’m always down to fight it’s the animal bride (folklore motif 402??) which a lot of you are probably familiar with as the selkie - the fisherman either falls in love, steals her skin to trap her on land/gain power over her, or they fall in love and THEN he steals her skin to keep her from leaving, and either way she spends a lot of time gazing sadly out to sea and then she or her child finds the skin and never returns again.
and that’s awful on a whole lot of levels - it’s not love, it’s control.

BUT. but the thing is. you how selkies/seal women was a pretty common variation of this? another really popular one was swans.

i just want you to think about that for a moment. swans. like…I get it, they’re pretty, graceful birds, certainly it’s easy to imagine them magically becoming pretty graceful ladies? but have you ever fought a swan. swans are awful. swans are the devil’s geese. imagine seeing a pretty magic lady and being absolutely enchanted by her, and stealing her magic feather cloak, and then you go up and say ‘hey i’m in love with you, let me make you my queen, it will be great, we’ll be so happy’ and she just looks at you for a moment and…

you know i was going to say maybe she just shouts for her sisters and suddenly you’re realizing you’ve made a terrible terrible mistake bc you’re surrounded by big fucking birds who are all hissing. but honestly if this swan lady is as aggressively down to brawl as any other generally unhappy swan, then she’d straight up fuck you up on her own. she’d just deck you roundhouse, honestly. you don’t fuck with swans. why does this trope exist

okay but consider this: a woman walks to the park every day and feeds the swans and watches them paddle gracefully around the lake, sighing to see how beautifully they swim. 

finally one day, a swan comes up to her and says ‘why don’t you come and swim with us? you always sigh so wistfully to see us on the water, and you would be most welcome to join our company, for you have always been a true friend to our kind’

and the woman says, ‘i can’t swim’

and the swan says, ‘we’ll teach you’

and the woman says, ‘literally i can’t swim, my husband stole my sealskin and should i venture into deep water i would surely drown’ 

and the swan says ‘your husband fucking WHAT’

the next morning the woman’s front yard looks like this. 

image

and neither the woman nor her husband are ever heard from again, though for very different reasons. 

@elodieunderglass

tagged for imaginary swans doing the lord’s work

(via ifeelbetterer)

janedoodles:
“ lungri:
“ I read an Anglo-Norman lai of Celtic origin about a werewolf when I was at university.
The King invites him into his court… then into his bed… then kisses him ‘’over 100 times’’. And that’s literally the end of the...

janedoodles:

lungri:

I read an Anglo-Norman lai of Celtic origin about a werewolf when I was at university.

The King invites him into his court… then into his bed… then kisses him ‘’over 100 times’’. And that’s literally the end of the story.

People have wanted to fuck werewolves for longer than we ever realized

(Source: mistkindred, via cthulhu-with-a-fez)

writing-prompt-s:

inkskinned:

writing-prompt-s:

A friendship between a time traveler and an immortal. Wherever the time traveler ends up, the immortal is there to catch him up to speed.

when we meet, i’m older but born after her, which is confusing. she was immortal somewhere after the 3rd century, we’re not sure. something about an ancient ritual. a sacrifice. she was twenty. if she ages, it’s nowhere i can see. the cut on her ribs from the ritual never heals. she is constantly annoyed by it.

we met in a meadow, by chance, when i got lost after woodstock. she looked at me with these odd eyes as i stumbled out of the loop, still smelling of sweat and other things. for a long time we stared at each other, she in her peasant clothes, me in tattered peace signs. and then she laughed.

she meets me in london during jack the ripper’s reign. we get tea. i tell her about the future where women are rulers and she snorts. i tell her about medicine. she tells me about witchcraft. i tell her about spaceships. she tells me about books that will die before i get to read them. when she laughs my heart feels funny. i think it’s the death on the wind.

she meets me by the berlin wall. we break it down together. she dances her bare feet in the dust. when she laughs something very small breaks in me. i miss my twenty-third birthday by accidentally going back to the dinosaurs. when i find her in the twenty-second century she’s holding a cake for me, telling me she’d found the signs of my travels somewhere back in twenty fifty-three. we sit on a rooftop and look at the stars and eat cake. i save her a slice. when i go back in time, i find her crying. i don’t tell her how i knew. there is something really beautiful in watching someone break into a smile when they’ve been sobbing.

i don’t know what happens. i stop jumping so much. we’re not supposed to. we’re not meant for long stays, we’ll change fate. just in and out. but hours turn into days. we spend a week in paris in her apartment over the city and i’m silly drunk when she leans over to me. 

kissing her stops time. kissing her stops everything. 

she waits for the future where we are legally allowed to be together. in the meantime i find her in dark corners. she laughs when i get tangled in my own skirts. she shows me a different world. a place where i stay. she knows i have to go. but i can’t help wish i could stay.

time isn’t real. that’s the thing. we experience it only based on our own perception of events. i only realize what’s happening because i stay too long. we are skinny dipping in a cold ocean the first time i notice it. she says something wrong. it’s not a bad mistake. but she doesn’t seem to remember how we got here for a moment. and then, in a flash, it’s gone. we are hiking through the amazon the first time she starts screaming. it’s been a long history. there’s just too much. she has periods of lucidity followed by eons of confusion. everything for her flashes by in an instant. she can’t remember what’s already been invented or what are stories i’ve told. her language is slipping. 

i hold her in a future where she is shaking. i kiss her neck. she smells like summer. “i’m losing myself in it,” she whispers. her skin is still bleeding. “i’m losing it.” i don’t know what to say. infinity is a long time to wait. she experiences time in flashes, sees a hundred years at a glance. and me? i show up and evaporate before she even recognizes me.

if she is mad, i am just as bad. i travel too much to find how to stop this. into parallel universes. outside of the ages. i don’t sleep and i don’t eat and the whole time i hear her screaming. 

it comes to me while i am sitting in the library of alexandria. time isn’t real. if i break the law, time could unravel. i think of her. if it’s worth it. what happens if i’m caught. we aren’t supposed to do things like this. even if we’re in love. 

but i am in love. i am in love.

i open the loop. i could ruin everything. but there she is, crying on the night she will be taken. and my heart breaks. it’s simple. the only way to undo it without leading to ruin is to make sure it never happens in the first place. i take her hand and i give her my loop. she has all of time to explore now. i’ve already seen it. i take her place. 

it is many years later. we meet in a meadow and she laughs.

This is beautiful.

(via littlestartopaz)

Prince Philip is the most badass prince EVER. And here’s why.

thorneofbriar:

onceyougodutch:

chasertiff:

Okay, so he’s got a girly face, and he wears tights and some high boots. Sure.

But check out that noble steed. That’s one ready-to-kick-ass-and-take-names steed.

While other princesses just run away and leave nothing, Philip gets AN INVITE TO HER HOUSE. He gets a song, a dance, and a first date.

He comes home, just to tell his dad he’s not going to marry the princess because he’s in love.

No. Other. Reason. He rides in and is just like, “I met the girl I’m going to marry. Now I’ve got a birthday party to be at. Bye Dad.”

Now how much do you think his dad weighs? That short fat little man? Probably pretty heavy.Not a problem for Prince Philip.

And then he gets jumped by goblins, both hands tied behind his back

But that’s not enough to stop Prince Philip.Oh no.

He breaks his hands free and starts chucking goblins.

Look at that face. That face. The “BITCH JUST YOU WAIT” face. He may be tied down by a dozen goblins but he’s not gonna take no shit from this witch.

In fact, he’s so strong, she ends up keeping him chained to the wall, but he still fights back.

Now when he finally does get free–

He’s ready to go into battle UNARMED. He don’t need no shield or sword, he’s going to go punch Maleficent’s face in with his fist. If Flora didn’t stop him, he probably would have, too.

Backed up against a cliff edge, nowhere to go. Fighting off goblins. But there’s so many and just one Philip.

NBD I’LL JUST JUMP AND SLIDE DOWN THE ROCK PILE IN MY SKIN-TIGHT TIGHTS.

Gate closing?

who gives a fuck? certainly not prince philip.

Lighting hitting rocks around me?

NBD BRO

Giant forest of thorns?

Bitch, get out of my way. I’ve got a princess to save.

Giant dragon of hell?

CHARGE HEAD ON.

Fire? Dragon? Burning dry twigs? No. Fucking. Problem.

Just smack that bitch on the nose.

Sheer cliff face? Fire burning behind me? Back to a wall?

Calm down guys, I got this.

I’LL JUST FUCKING SCALE IT ONE-HANDED.

And fight the bloody beast from 500 feet high, with literally nothing to save me if I fall.

Lose the shield off the cliff?

JUST STAND THERE AND SMILE ‘CAUSE I’VE GOT A FUCKING MAGIC SWORD THAT’S GOING THROUGH YOUR HEART BITCH.

Just chuck it. Straight through.

Then jump out of the way…

And survive. That’s what happens to bitches who mess with the woman I love.

Get the horse.

Get the girl.

EXPLAIN NOTHING.

that’s how he EARNED his happily ever after.

Srsly. The most bad. ass. prince. disney ever wrote.

I 1,000% never thought of it from this point of view before and am now screaming Too Hot, Hot Damn, Made that dragon wanna retire man.

“EXPLAIN NOTHING”

(via clockwork-mockingbird)