Originally posted on AO3, decided to move it over here for people who don't like AO3.

These "chapters" are just prompt responses so the quality might vary. Most of them will feel incomplete, some of them will be completed. It depends on demand.

First prompt was requested by Anon. They asked for a thominewt Tangled or Disney's Little Mermaid. I ended up writing both.
The Newt version in this one is from the books. (Not Thomas Sangster)

Tangled (Thominewt)

They'd out run the guards a few miles back, the thick foliage of the forest providing cover as they trudged through the dwindling daylight. It'd been earlier in the day when Thomas had hatched his half-baked plan to steal the crown from the palace, and Minho, his loyal partner in crime, had been nothing but ecstatic. Things hadn't gone well – when did they ever? – but Thomas's quick thinking allowed them to escape unscathed.

Now, they were lost in the woods, the royal family's crown tucked safely in the knapsack hanging from Thomas's shoulders. The humidity of the forest pressed around them, making them sweat despite the cool of the shade.

They cut through the thickness, dodging upturned roots and low hanging branches. Minho glanced over his shoulder with a triumphant grin and tossed a canteen Thomas's way.

"Drink up shank. You're sweating like a pig."

Thomas caught the canteen with ease and uncapped the container, a playful smile on his lips. "I thought you liked it when I'm a hot and sweaty mess, Min."

"Only when I'm the reason why."

Thomas hummed, the cool liquid sliding down his throat a great relief to his otherwise overheated body.

They tumbled out into a clearing, bright and beautiful under the afternoon sun. Poking high into the sky was a tower covered in layers of ivy; the red roof faded from years of storms. It must have been an old watch tower, back when the kingdom was smaller and animals were still a threat.

"Looks abandoned,' Minho murmured, shielding his eyes against the sun for a better look. "Would make a great place for shelter."

"And a better place to hide from the knights." Thomas supplied. He tightened the knapsack around his shoulders for better security then made his way towards the tower. The vines appeared to be thick enough. Hopefully they were sturdy enough too.

Thomas grabbed onto a fistful and hoisted his body into the air.

"What the hell are you doing?" He heard Minho ask, incredulity lacing his tone.

Thomas grinned. "What's it look like? I'm climbing the vines!"

"That's dangerous, Thomas."

The brunet barked out a carefree laugh. "When did that ever stop us, Min?"

The older boy grinned in delight. He was scaling up the tower before Thomas could blink.

"Last one to the top is a rotten shank!"

"Oh, you're on!"

Despite the height and the possibility of death by said height, Thomas raced his partner to the top of the tower. Minho crawled in through the window first, that infuriatingly adorable cocky grin already plastered on his flushed face. Thomas chose to ignore him as he climbed through the window. He had just gathered his bearings when a loud clang sounded through the room.

Minho crashed to the floor with a heavy thud, his body unmoving.

Thomas's heart jolted in fear. Without thinking, he whipped out a dagger from its hiding place in his clothes and held it up against the throat of his soon-to-be assailant. The figure stilled, the sharp blade of the dagger pressed precariously against his skin.

He blinked.

His assailant was a boy – possibly no older than him and Minho – with long golden tresses of hair that trailed the floor in unbelievable lengths. He was tall, easily towering over the brunet, with muscles that bulged from his arms; a heavy iron frying pan in hand. His eyes were a startling shade of blue, wide and defiant.

(If Thomas were honest with himself, it was because of this boy's eyes he found himself breathless.)

Thomas blinked again, entranced by the figure before him.

The blond let out a dark chuckle, eyes glinting. "Are ya gonna gawk at me all day or are ya gonna slice my throat and get on with it?" he growled.

Thomas felt his heart skip a beat.

"I'm not going to kill you," he said, brows furrowing. He lowered the sharp weapon slowly, letting the mysterious boy trail it with his eyes. "We mean you no harm. We thought the tower was abandoned. Minho and I were just looking for a place to hide."

At the mention of the other boy, an agonized groan escaped his fallen partner's lips. Thomas felt a well of sympathy swell in his chest. Minho's head was going to smart later.

The blond stranger lowered his frying pan, a curious scowl set on his lips.

"Hide out from what? Bandits?"

Thomas smiled in amusement. "From the knights."

The boy tensed again. "So you're bandits?"

"Who just need a place to stay."

Minho moaned again.

The blond tore his eyes away from Thomas to chance a glance at the pained male on the floor. He sucked his teeth, as though the sight of Minho sprawled on the ground was a nuisance to him. He suddenly sighed.

"Okay. You can stay. But on one condition."

"What's that?"

The tall boy fixed Thomas with a hard stare.

"You have to take me with you when you leave."

Thomas was by Minho's side when the boy came to. Newt, as the blond was called, gave him a pitcher of water to serve to Minho then returned to his closet to pack up important essentials. He carefully tipped the metallic cup into Minho's lips, mindful of the way he drank so he wouldn't choke. When he was done, Minho sat up slowly, a scowl etched onto his face.

"Ugh," He groaned. "Shuck me, it's like I got hit with a brick. What the hell was that?"

"A frying pan." Thomas smiled. "You scared Newt."

"The shuck is a Newt?"

The boy in question appeared on Minho's other side, yards of hair rolled up in his hands. More still trailed the ground despite the bundle. (Thomas wondered how it was even possible for hair that long to exist.)

"Names Newt and you're lucky I only knocked ya out with a fryin' pan."

Minho gaped at the blond, eyes raking over the boy's form. He turned to Thomas slowly, dark eyes inquisitive.

Thomas couldn't help but smile sheepishly. "He's coming with us. Hope you don't mind."

Minho snapped his jaw shut, brows pulling into a frown. "What?!" He shrieked.

Before Thomas could explain any further, Newt pulled away from them with a mischievous grin. "Glad ya can agree. Now," he tossed the length of his hair onto a hook just outside the window and turned to them as the rest of his unnaturally shimmering locks flew out of sight. "Are we leaving or not?"

Minho returned to gawking, utterly speechless.

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