#BUT THEN rumpelstiltskin's name does come into play and how else are you going to lead up to the fact that a character has been using a fak

[prosebushpatch]

Was trying to figure out why Hansel and Gretel randomly appeared in a book I was reading, with candy house backstory and everything, in a story that otherwise was not directly informed by a specific fairy tale. At least to my knowledge, it all felt pretty original, until the villainous antagonist started spinning straw into gold and mentioned being betrayed by a miller's daughter and I cupped my head in my hands like, ah, th-the way to defeat him... they gotta figure out his true name... this whole time... he's been rumpelstiltskin.

[kelyon]

Golden Rings 12: A Wolf

The Storybrooke sequel to Golden Cuffs

Rumple notices an unusual event

Read on AO3

Content Warning: Graham in this chapter and nothing good ever happens to Graham. 

He is lying on their bed, spread-eagled and naked on the blue and gold coverlet. The gray-green of his skin looks rough and dull compared to the vibrant silk. His wife stands above him, clad in a gown of emerald velvet. She holds his dagger loosely at her side.

“Tell me the truth,” she orders. “Do you want to do this, Rumpelstiltskin?”

Magic surrounds him, connects him to the blade and to his wife. She is the mistress of the dagger. He gave himself over to her long ago. She owns him, body and mind, will and power. He must obey. It is impossible, unthinkable, to do anything else. At her command, he speaks the truth:

“I want to please you.” His breath comes hard and heavy. “But I am afraid. I do not want to be a slave to anyone.”

Belle sits on the bed  beside him, sets the dagger aside. She cradles his face, leans over and kisses him. Their foreheads touch, they breathe together for a moment.

“Thank you for telling me you’re afraid,” she whispers. “And thank you for wanting to please me. We don’t have to play this game if you don’t want to.” 

“But I do want to.” He reaches for her face, runs his black claws through her hair. It is easier to say these things when he is closer to her. She makes it so easy to be weak. “I want to belong to you, sweetheart. I know you won’t hurt me.”

She kisses him, long and deep and loving. He surrenders to the kiss, he lets her take him. Belle loves him, wants him, treasures him. For some far reason beyond his comprehension, he is precious to her. She will not let him come to harm.

In his long life, no one has ever protected him before. 

“If I ask you to, Rumple, will you face your fear?”

“Yes,” he answers without hesitation. “There is nothing I would deny you, Belle. Nothing in the world and nothing of myself.”

Slowly nodding, she pulls back. She sits up above him. She picks up the dagger emblazoned with his name.

“I won’t hurt you, and I won’t make you do anything you don’t want to do.” Her voice is calm as she looks down at him--calm and cool, but still full of love. “But in this game I will keep you from doing what you want. Do you understand?”

He swallows. Belle will take care of him. Belle will push him to the edge and pull him back again, just as he has done to her a thousand times. Belle loves him and he loves her. 

He trusts her.

“Yes,” he says at last. “Yes, I understand.”

“And if you cannot bear it, if you wish to stop this game, I charge you now that you must say the word we have agreed upon.”

“I will,” he whispers. 

“Tell me the word now, Rumple, so that it is fresh in your mind.”

He almost smiles. “The word is apple.” 

Even the faintest allusion to Regina will be a bucket of cold water on both of them. The woman who hurt Belle in the past, who will hurt both of them in the future--the mere thought of her will be enough to sober them both and signal the end of anything playful.

“That’s very good, Rumple.” Belle punctuates her praise with a kiss on his forehead. “I don’t want to hurt you, not in your body and not in your heart. In this game, I will control you, but you must speak if I go too far.”

“I will,” he promises. And the magic will hold him to his words. “I trust you, Belle. I love you.”

“I love you.” She looks down on him, her beautiful hair curling down to brush against his naked chest. Her smile is so warm, so lovely.

Then she gets off the bed, and holds the dagger aloft. When she looks at him next, her smile is gone, her eyes are cold, her face impassive. This is Belle with power, Belle in control. In control of him. 

His mouth goes dry and his pulse begins to race.

“Until I say otherwise,” she declares, “you are to lay flat on the bed. You will not move. You will not speak, except to answer a direct question or to say the word. You will stop the game if there is any danger to the castle, to myself, or to you. Do you understand?”

“Yes,” he breathes. His cock is already growing hard, just from being near his wife, just from being at her mercy. 

“And Rumpelstiltskin?” she adds.

He cannot speak, but nods to show his attention.

“Under no circumstances are you permitted to come until I say.”

He closes his eyes and bites down a groan. He doesn’t protest--he can only speak to end the game before it begins. And this is what Belle told him she was going to do: keep him from doing what he wanted. His body is hers, he has agreed to it again and again. 

She will do as she likes with him. He will trust her, and he will enjoy the experience. 

With one hand still holding the dagger, she begins to unlace the front of her bodice. The green velvet of her gown gives way to a white silk chemise--light underneath the darkness. She doesn’t remove the dress completely, but lets it cling to her body, half-open. It gives the most tempting, most alluring glimpses of her skin.

He doesn’t realize he had reached for her until he feels the magic pull him back to the bed. It pulls him by the wrists, as though he is wearing shackles. As though he is bound by the same golden cuffs he had used on Belle so long ago.

Perhaps she is thinking the same thing. The next time she touches him it is to twist his wedding ring around his finger. Their rings were once her cuffs. What was once her bondage is now their bond, their marriage, their love.

Half-dressed, she leans over him. He can smell her body--her sweat, her arousal. He wants to pull her close and bury his nose in her. He wants to smell and taste and touch--then hear her laugh and sigh in pleasure.

But he cannot.

Because it pleases her that he doesn’t.

Instead, she straddles him. She hitches up her skirts and petticoats and spreads them out over his body. Silk and lace and velvet tickle the bare skin of his chest. He can feel her legs, her heat, even traces of her slick desire--but he cannot see any of it.   

She sets herself lightly against his cock. The position teases him, taunts him with how similar it is to what he really wants. Their bodies are close together, but not nearly close enough. They will not be close enough until he is fully sheathed inside her and she is screaming and moaning in delight. 

Belle sets the dagger down on the bed beside him. If he could move his hand but one inch, he could grab the blade and all his power would be his own again. 

But even if he could, he wouldn’t. He gave the dagger to Belle. He gave himself to her, and that is a vow he will never break. 

She must see him looking at the dagger, for when he looks on her again, she grins. “That’s good that you didn’t reach for it,” she coos. “Maybe someday we’ll be able to do this without magic. What would you think of that?”

She has asked him a question, so he can speak. “I think I might like that.”

Her grin transforms into a loving smile. Bending over him, she runs her pale hands over his dark chest--first her fingers, then her palms, and then back with her fingernails raking against his bare skin. He throws his head back. A strangled moan fights to escape his closed lips.

She chuckles. “Oh please make noise, my darling. Be as loud as you like.”

He is glad of that permission when her clever fingers brush over his gold-speckled nipples. Faint circles swirl over his sensitive flesh, teasing, tempting. When she finally relents and pinches him, the pain is close enough to pleasure that he groans and arches up briefly before the magic pulls him back down.

“Oh!” Belle sighs as she rides him. “I thought you might like that! Now I can feel that you do.” She grinds down against him, her slick folds rubbing against his shaft. He is still not inside her and it is driving him mad.

But of course she knows that. 

She takes her hands off his chest and brings them to her gown. She pulls the bodice open further, so her arms are just barely in her sleeves. Her white chemise is loosely knotted at the back, when she pulls at the knot, the silk billows out around her. Now her neckline is at her waist and her beautiful pink breasts are finally exposed. 

He groans at the sight of her, his perfect wife. How has he not exploded already?

Because she told him not to.  

“Let me tell you something, Rumple.” She leans over him again, to whisper to him. Her body presses against his. Her nipples are as hard and pointed as his own--he feels them against his skin, as hot as her breath in his ear. “I like it too.”

Then her lovely hands are on her own flawless body. She touches herself the same way she just touched him--sweeping, scratching, pinching. She thrusts her hips against his pelvis and he can do nothing to enhance either her pleasure or his own.

It is excruciating.

It is exhilarating. 

It feels like she does this for years, for an eternity. His wife takes her pleasure and he’s lucky he even gets to watch. She moves around his body while he lies paralyzed on the bed. Using his cock and and his mouth and his balled fists like so many lifeless toys, she makes herself come again and again. He has never been so powerless. He has never been so hard.

She strips away the rest of her clothes and he can see everything. He can see his dark cock entering her and disappearing inside her body. She clenches around him, hot and wet and maddening. He has no control over this. He cannot take her as he wants to. He cannot move, cannot even jerk his hips to get in deeper as she rides him. She kisses him and praises him, allows him to worship her breasts with his mouth.

“You’re so good, Rumple.” Her eyes are glazed and sweat glistens over her skin. Every part of him smells like her pleasure. “Are you ready?” 

He feels her muscles tighten as she uses him for one more orgasm. One more, but not one last. Belle knows that. She knows the beast she has in her bed. A beast who can be tamed, but cannot be denied for long. A beast with hungers and urges that she has long been eager to satisfy. 

She will satisfy him again, his beautiful wife. Because it pleases her to do so. He is her beast, and she will unleash him. They will love each other in every way, in every moment, for as long as they are together.

“I’m ready.”

“In that case, Rumpelstiltskin, I will free you from the constraints of this game... Right... Now!”

****

Power arced across the sky and Rumpelstiltskin jolted upright out of sleep. His breath came out in pants. He was sweating, despite the chill that permeated the drafty house. Inside his pajama bottoms, his cock was painfully hard. 

But he couldn’t bother with that now. 

Grabbing his cane, he heaved himself out of bed and hobbled to the nearest window. He pulled back the curtains and scanned the sky frantically. What should he look for? Would there be anything to see? Clouds hung heavy over the houses of Storybrooke, and the only light in them was the reflection of the orange street lights. It was an eerie and unnatural sight, but it wasn’t what had woken him.

It wasn’t magic.

After twenty-eight years of the curse, he still recognized magic. He knew the feeling, the taste, the vibrations of it, better than he knew any other sensation. This was supposed to be a world without magic--a world where he was powerless. That was why Bae had wanted to come here in the first place

But he knew what he felt. 

It was fading, even as he stood by the window. The surge had been a burst of magic, wild and formless, like the lightning of a summer storm. It was untrained and probably unintentional, the magic of someone who didn’t know what they were doing. Someone who didn’t even know she had magic.

A slow smile spread across Rumpelstiltskin’s face. No, the Savior didn’t have magic. She was magic. In the old world, magic was a skill to be learned, a talent that could be either developed or ignored. But Emma Swan was the product of True Love. Magic was a part of her very nature, and had been from the moment of her conception. Even if she knew what she was dealing with, she wouldn’t be able to fight it or hide it. Magic was her destiny. Whether she knew it or not, she had brought it to Storybrooke.

He closed the curtains. Though it was still dark outside, dawn would be coming soon. And there was so much work to do. 

He limped over to the washroom, to attend the needs of his human body. Mrs. Gold was asleep in the bed, lying on her stomach the way Belle liked to. She had one arm stretched out to the side, her pale skin all but glowing against the dark red sheets. She was reaching to the other side of the bed, to the space where he had been sleeping.

Quietly, Rumpelstiltskin approached his wife. Belle’s face, Belle’s hair, Belle’s sweet, gentle yearning. She was there, he knew it, inside Mrs. Gold. Belle was just sleeping, waiting to be rescued. 

He pulled the quilt up over her shoulders, to protect her from the night air. Belle was always cold. Mrs. Gold had finally stopped going to bed naked, but her negligees barely covered her. There was a gift-giving holiday coming up soon, something like the winter solstice. Perhaps he could buy her something long and made of flannel. Mrs. Gold would hate such a garment, but perhaps she would wear it just to please him.

Of course, he shouldn’t encourage her to think she was pleasing him. That would only lead the poor woman to more disappointment.  

Sighing, he left the bed and went to the washroom. The problem of Mrs. Gold wasn’t going to go away, but it wasn’t the issue that occupied his thoughts now. Magic was what he had to think of. There was magic in Storybrooke. What was he going to do about it?

With the flip of a switch, he brought light to the darkened room. Magic used to be as simple as that. He’d used it for his comfort and his necessities just as the people of this world used electricity. It was an odd reversal of the curse that in this world all but the poorest people had the same luxuries as the Dark One. And now magic was no more accessible to him than a bolt of lightning.

He stripped off his clothes and turned on the water in the shower. In the old world, he had spent weeks mastering the “Indoor Rain” spell. Longer still to tinker with it so he could summon  water that was warm but not scalding. But every house in Storybrooke had this ability--as long as people paid their water bills. That was one similarity between the worlds: Whether something was magic or only seemed like magic, it all came with a price.

Gold’s bathtub had a seat built into the corner to accommodate his bad leg. It was also handy whenever he wanted to watch his wife soap herself under the warm spray. He had made Mrs. Gold get on her knees for him a hundred times in this tub. She would wash his feet, or suck his cock, or bend over his knee and take a punishment. Sometimes Gold would leave her alone on her knees in the shower while he dried off and dressed. He would spray her down with freezing water--sometimes while she was still clothed in those designer fashions she took such pride in wearing. 

She was his thing, and he could break her if he wanted to.

Rumpelstiltskin hung his head and let the water run over him. He would never be clean of these memories, of what Gold had done to his wife, how he had abused the power he had over her. He tried to push the thoughts from his mind. He tried to remember his dream.

Every night since he had come back to himself, Rumpelstiltskin had dreamed of his old life. His dreams always took the form of memories, distinct from any natural dream. In the dreams he was always himself, and he always knew what was going on. He dreamed of his father, of the women who raised him. He dreamed of Millah, of Bae, of the deals he had made as the Dark One.

He dreamed of Belle. Belle as a girl making a deal she couldn’t possibly understand, wanting nothing more than to save her people from an army of ogres. Belle as a captive in his dungeon, wearing the cuffs and learning how to play the games he set up. Belle as he came to love her, came to realize that she was the most precious person in the world to him--and that he had no idea how to cope with that. Belle, loving him so much she allowed him not to love her. Belle, wretched and despondent after he had trapped her in her library. Belle taking her freedom.

Belle coming back.

Belle as his wife, as the mistress of the dagger. Finally, both of them together and equally able to love each other. Belle as his partner and his second self, of them talking and planning and spending every day side by side. Dream after dream of them loving each other, and expressing that love with their bodies.

His cock was hard in his hand. In the weeks since he had awoken from the curse, Rumpelstiltskin had masturbated less than a dozen times. Whenever he did, it was always like this--under a stream of running water, in the early hours of the morning, after dreaming about Belle. 

He took care of himself quickly, mechanically. It didn’t feel right to take much pleasure in this act, not without his wife. This was just a base need, a release, a discharge of too much pent-up energy.

For the longest time, that was all fucking had been to him too. As the Dark One, he had taken a few lovers: People who had offered themselves to him as part of a deal. Students who wanted a hands-on demonstration of that type of magic. Jefferson had been so wonderstruck with new possibilities he was eager to try anything, with anyone. For so long, the most licentious depravities had been enjoyable--but as impersonal as fucking his own hand.

Belle had changed that. Belle had changed everything. With Belle, pleasure and love and intimacy had become entwined again. She had known him, as no other lover had ever known him. And she accepted him. She wanted him.

Rumpelstiltskin came with a strangled grunt. He stifled his noises so Mrs. Gold wouldn’t hear. For a moment, he breathed. He pretended that the heat of the water was Belle’s body all around him, caressing him, cherishing him.

Then he finished washing, and got dressed. 

****

The early morning light was enough to see by as Rumpelstiltskin moved through the house. He had been able to dress without turning on a lamp and running the risk of waking Mrs. Gold. Leaning on his cane, he made his way down the stairs and into Gold’s study.

In addition to the safe in the shop, Gold also had a safe hidden behind one of the bookshelves in this room. Rumpelstiltskin spun the combination and the door swung open. Inside there were stacks of banded hundred dollar bills, an accordion file of documents--contracts, deeds, incriminating photographs of some of Storybrooke’s most upstanding citizens--and a steel box. The box was fireproof, waterproof, and required two separate keys to open. 

Rumpelstiltskin didn’t breathe until the box was opened, and he saw that the contents inside were intact. 

The chipped cup, Baelfire’s shawl, and the dagger. 

He touched the objects reverently. The shawl was wrapped around the cup, protecting it from potential damage. The dagger was separate from that tangle, as though it knew it didn’t belong. Carefully, Rumpelstiltskin lifted the cup and the shawl out of the box. With one hand on his cane, he cradled the precious things in the crook of his arm.

He used to carry Bae the same way.

After scanning the room for a moment, he decided to set the things up on a shelf by Gold’s desk. That way, he would be able to look at them and know that they were safe. Bae’s shawl and Belle’s cup were the best parts of his old life--the best parts of himself. It was better for them to be out in the open, where he could see them and remember.

The dagger, however, was only worth having when it was in Belle’s hand. At any other time, it was a liability. The only weapon that could hurt the Dark One, the only way to control him or take his life. Now that Emma Swan had brought her own sparks of magic into this world, Rumpelstiltskin would have to keep such an explosive item far away from any flames. 

He shut the metal box and locked it with both keys. Wedging the box under his arm, he went to the back of the house. In the kitchen, he grabbed the canvas apron and threw it over his shoulder as he went into the garage. 

The garage produced a garden spade and a pair of rubber boots. Very useful. Gold kept a pair of gloves in the glove box of his car. He would need those as well. Rumpelstiltskin had pulled out the keys and opened the car door before a pang of conscience made him stop.

Mrs. Gold. 

If she woke up and found him gone, she would panic and think she had done something to displease him.

With a slight huff. Rumpelstiltskin shut the car door and went back inside the house. He wrote a quick note saying that he needed to take care of some business and he would be back before it was time to open the shop. Creasing the notepaper, he set it at Mrs. Gold’s place at the dining room table. She would see it as soon as she came down for breakfast. If he got back before she woke up, he could destroy the note and she would never know he had left. 

That taken care of, Rumpelstiltskin drove into the woods. Gold owned most of the wild forest that surrounded Storybrooke. It took about twenty minutes to drive from the pink house to the rustic cabin where Gold liked to get away. 

They had spent their honeymoon there, on some frigid February weekend that had never really happened. The tradition of this world was for grooms to carry their brides over the threshold of their home. But Gold had ordered his new wife to crawl to him on her hands and knees as a beginning of their wedded bliss. 

Because the cabin was so isolated, Gold allowed himself to let loose when they were here. He would have Mrs. Gold walk naked and barefoot through the forest, and let herself get caught in brambles and mud puddles. Then he would punish her for being so careless, so dirty. Out here, both of them got to unleash their animal natures--Gold as a predator, his wife as prey. A victim. 

 Shaking his head, Rumpelstiltskin parked the car and got out. He put on the apron, boots and gloves, and carried the shovel and the box in one hand. He couldn’t walk far into the trees, but he managed to find a clear spot. Balancing on his good leg, he stuck the shovel in the ground and heaved his weight onto it. 

The shovel sank into the forest soil. They weren’t so far into winter that the ground had frozen yet. 

He dug deeper than he needed to. It was exhausting work, but mindless. Almost like spinning. While his body was occupied, that gave his mind an opportunity to roam free. He could think, he could plan. When had dug enough, he tossed the box that held his dagger into the hole. It landed with an unceremonious thud. Then, Rumpelstiltskin hid the source of all his power under the dirt. 

As he patted down the last of the soil and covered the spot with fallen leaves and sticks, a man came barreling through the forest. He ran as though the hounds of hell were after him. Abruptly, he stopped, and spun around to look at the trees and brush around him. He looked disoriented and on the verge of panic.

 Gold knew this man as Sheriff Graham, the well-meaning head of local law enforcement. He was Gold’s tenant, a fact Mrs. Gold often used to her advantage. 

There was also reason to suspect that the sheriff station’s close ties to the mayor’s office was not merely a working relationship. Graham was a handsome young man, after all, though at this moment he looked sweaty and feverish. Like he hadn’t slept in days.

Or like he had seen a ghost. 

Deliberately making noise, Rumpelstiltskin hobbled out into the clearing. Graham jumped at the disturbance. He must have been entirely in his own world.

“Mr. Gold!” Graham panted. His brow was furrowed, his eyes bloodshot. He looked at Rumpelstiltskin like he wasn’t sure what he was seeing. Like his eyes told him one thing, but some other sense was telling him something completely different. “I thought you were a wolf.”

“Did I forget to shave?” 

Rumpelstiltskin grinned as he put the pieces together. The sheriff’s station had hired a new deputy a few weeks ago. Graham was now spending several hours every day in the company of Emma Swan. It was possible that his current state had nothing to do with the surge of magic that had burst through town earlier.

But it wasn’t likely.

“You know, Sheriff, as far as I’m aware, there are no wolves in Storybrooke. Not the literal kind, anyway. Why are you looking for one?”

Graham shook his head. “You’ll think I’m crazy.”

What a person in this world would think was madness was exactly what Rumpelstiltskin wanted to hear. “Try me.”

“I had a dream about a wolf.” Graham rubbed his forehead. It was less that he was answering Gold and more that he was trying to understand what was happening in his own mind. “A white wolf. It had one eye as red as blood, the other as black as night. And then, I swear, I saw the exact same wolf out here. But it ran off. Or maybe it was never here...”

Until now, it hadn’t occurred to Rumpelstiltskin to wonder who Graham had been in the old world. But now he didn’t need to wonder at all. The traits Graham described were unique in a wolf, the sort of coloring that showed up only in one pack. The pack that had lived in the mountains near the Dark One’s castle. 

He remembered the day--about thirty years before this curse--when he had heard the keening howl of a lonely wolf. It had been a white female, with one eye as red as blood, and the other as dark as night. The wolf’s sister had been mated and whelped a lively litter of pups. But because this wolf had no mate, she had no chance at a litter of her own, and her loneliness would only grow. 

Rumpelstiltskin had sensed her desperation and knew that having a favor from even one wolf could be a valuable tool. So when it happened that a human woman running through his forest with her child had tripped over a root and smashed her head against a stone, Rumpelstiltskin whisked the boy away and offered it to the lonely wolf to raise as her own pup.

Graham was that boy, all grown up. The wolf he dreamed of was the only mother he had. The only mother he remembered. And it was driving him to the brink of madness.

“Did you see anything strange out here, Mr. Gold?”

“I’m sorry to say I haven’t,” he answered. “Do wish I could be more helpful.” He made to walk away, but then turned back to the shaken Sheriff. “You know,” he said, “they say that dreams are memories. Memories of another life.”

Graham blinked slowly at Rumpelstiltskin. He could see the wheels turning behind the poor man’s teary eyes. What he said made so much sense, but it couldn’t be true. Could it? Could it possibly? “What do you believe?”

He gave the sheriff a grin he knew he wouldn’t understand. “I never rule out anything.” He nodded his good-bye. “I hope you find what you’re looking for.”  

What would it take to fully give Sheriff Graham his memories back? Rumpelstiltskin didn’t know. But if anyone could do it, it would be Deputy Swan. And once that happened, well… 

That would be very interesting.

****

But whatever hopes Rumpelstiltskin might have had were dashed the next morning when Mrs. Gold unfolded the newspaper and shrieked. 

“Oh my God!” She covered her mouth with her hand and read an article in fraught silence.

“What is it?” He asked, doubtful that anything that troubled Mrs. Gold would merit his concern.

“Sheriff Graham…” She looked up from the paper and her eyes brimmed with tears. “He’s dead.”

Rumpelstiltskin leaned forward. “What?”

Mrs. Gold nodded and showed him the article. She began to read the text out loud: “First responders arrived at the sheriff’s station late Wednesday night, responding to a 911 call from known drunk driver, Emma Swan. Sheriff Graham Humbert was declared dead on the scene. The medical examiner confirmed the cause of death as a cardiac event. Despite the association of alleged vandal Emma Swan, autopsy reports indicate no suspicion of foul play. A source close to Humbert theorizes that he may have had a heart condition that went tragically undiagnosed.” 

She shook her head. “A heart attack?” she whispered. “But he wasn’t even thirty-five!”

Rumpelstiltskin did not let his hands shake as he picked up his cup of tea. Dead. The only other person to come close to having the curse broken was dead.  “That does seem unusual.” 

Not only unusual but unnatural. Supernatural. It was obvious what had happened: Graham worked closely with both Regina and Emma. Of course he would be caught in their crossfire. If the Savior’s magic had any effect in this world, it could well be that the Queen had a few tricks up her sleeve as well. So, Regina understood what had happened to Graham, and she had decided to eliminate him. 

Poor man.

“God!” Mrs. Gold shivered. She sank back in her chair and let the paper fall into her lap.

“You’ve gone white,” he observed. “Are you alright?”

“He’s just dead,” she said softly. “Just like that. Twelve hours ago, he was fine, but then--” she snapped her fingers. “Gone forever. Poor man never got a chance to be free.”

He looked at her carefully. Odd that Mrs. Gold would care about the lives and deaths and freedoms of other people. That was much more Belle’s domain. 

Had Belle ever met the wolf-boy in the old world?

“Did you know him well?” he asked gently. Even without Graham, there was still magic in this world. There were still memories that would sound crazy unless you knew what they meant.

“He was kind to me.” Mrs. Gold tilted her head, her gaze seemed far away. Was there something different about her voice? Or was he just hearing what he wanted to hear? “Poor man was trapped, Regina did that to him. But he did the best he could for me. I’ll never forget that.”

“What did he do?” Rumpelstiltskin whispered. He stared at his wife, only half-believing what he was hearing. It couldn’t be real. But perhaps it was. Emma’s magic could be doing miraculous things right now. Right before his eyes. 

But then it ended. Like the popping of a soap bubble. Mrs. Gold blinked and snapped out of her reverie. 

“I--” It took her a moment to focus, for the curse to reassert its control over her. “I don’t remember. Graham was just… a nice guy.”

Slowly, Rumpelstiltskin made himself nod. 

Mrs. Gold went back to the paper. “Weird that it’s just a little half-column in the back pages. I mean, the man is--was--the sheriff of the whole Goddamned town. You’d think a sudden death would be front-page news.”

“Mr. Glass is certainly using uncharacteristic restraint,” he agreed. “I wonder if the powers that be told the paper to bury the story.”

The breaking of Graham’s curse was a threat to the power Regina had over the reality of this town. His death had solved most of that problem for her, but not all of it. No good would come to Regina if people around Storybrooke began to poke around in the circumstances of the sheriff’s death--or his life, for that matter. Better for her if no one looked at this too closely. Better still if people gradually forgot that Sheriff Graham had ever existed at all. Doubtless, Regina would use all the power she had to make sure no one ever mentioned Graham again. 

 ****

Since Gold had been the sheriff’s landlord, and the man had no other family, it fell to Rumpelstiltskin to clean out the apartment of any personal effects. There was precious little, and nothing worth selling in the shop. Mostly clothes--cheap but well-cared for--and the debris of a life of police work. The walkie-talkie radio set was better quality than anything the city issued out. That could be useful to someone. 

Under Graham’s bed, there was a plastic crate full of items that could never be resold. There were harnesses and collars, leather cuffs and spreader bars, whips and floggers and bamboo canes. A half-empty spool of black-dyed rope. The number of toys and restraints would rival even Mrs. Gold’s collection. Everything was high-quality--much more expensive than the salary of a town sheriff could afford--and every item that wasn’t black was either blue, red, or royal purple.

Poking through the crate with the end of his cane, Rumpelstiltskin revealed a layer of dildos and plugs--some truly breathtaking in size. A black leather strap-on harness was clearly the method of delivery for the dildos. There were nipple clamps and cock rings and thin chains with hanging weights. Deeper still were collections of needles and electronic pain devices. He couldn’t identify the small metal objects that looked like miniature cages or conjoined rings. But then Gold’s knowledge helpfully supplied the phrase cock and ball torture.

Nothing about Sheriff Graham gave the slightest suggestion that he would use these implements on another person. But Rumpelstiltskin knew who would. Regina had never discriminated in victims. Perhaps it gave her more of a thrill to hurt a man than a woman. Especially the sheriff, who was supposed to have as much power and authority as the mayor. But no one was allowed to have more power than the Queen. She probably took great pleasure in reminding Graham just how powerless he was.

Rumpelstiltskin would put money down on a bet that Graham was never allowed to use a safe word when he was with Regina. For twenty-eight years, the man had been at the mercy of a woman who had no mercy. A woman whose lust and bloodlust were both insatiable. And the instant he had gotten even a taste of freedom, she had put him down like a dog.  

He had half a mind to take the crate of paraphernalia and have it dumped on Regina’s front lawn. It would be so satisfying to declare open war against the Evil Queen, to expose her for what she was and bring out the whole truth for the entire town.

But if Rumpelstiltskin were capable of doing that, he would be the Savior, and not Emma Swan. 

He was not the hero of this story. It was not his role to go up against Regina. He was not a white knight. Rumpelstiltskin was the shadow-power, the trickster-demon, the Dark One. The best he could do was to know who the real heroes were, and make sure they had the tools they needed to defeat the real villains.

With that in mind, he decided to pay a friendly visit to City Hall. Perhaps there would be a copy of the Storybrooke Town Charter that he could borrow. The office of sheriff was currently vacant, after all. It would be his duty as a citizen to make sure that vacancy was filled in a lawful manner, by the candidate who could do the most good.   

[ingravinoveritas]

I cannot believe that person is going around commenting on posts calling out Ainsley's abuse and calling it sexism. Disgusting.

Thank you, Anon.

I literally just had a 15+ reply back-and-forth with that person on this post, and I am both physically and mentally exhausted right now. I am absolutely 100% here for calling out sexism in any and all of its forms, but I’m completely gobsmacked and baffled as to how it’s sexist to dislike Ainsley because of facets of her personality that were shown long before tonight/have nothing to do with what happened tonight/but then her behavior tonight pushed it over the edge. Has no one ever had a “last straw”? A “straw that broke the camel’s back”? Rumpelstiltskin spinning straw into gold, except this was a whole bunch of obnoxiousness and gaslighting instead of gold?

(...I ran out of “straw” metaphors at the end there. Apologies.) Let me say here and now, once and for all, that I know my liking of Martin is tied up in the fact that he is being played by Michael Sheen. Yes, I am a fan, but there are also numerous other male characters on TV that behave in a similar/cold brooding fashion, but to whom I have no attraction solely because they are not played by Michael Sheen. Michael takes the character of Martin and deliberately imbues him with sexual magnetism and power, because he knows that is what makes Martin so dangerous. He is an incredibly talented actor and the few moments where the real monster inside Martin comes out have been utterly terrifying. But still I watch, because Michael is the reason I started watching PS in the first place, and he makes every episode he’s in that much stronger.

However...and I can’t believe I even have to say this--my attraction to and liking of Michael does NOT mean that I condone or am defending anything Martin has done or is doing. I feel that he is one of the strongest and most well-written characters in the show--by contrast, Ainsley (to me) is one of the weakest characters, and has been since the beginning. One of the clearest examples that still stands out in my mind is the episode in season one where Ainsley is interviewing Martin in Claremont and her boyfriend/cameraman Jin gets stabbed. She cares more about getting the story than getting him medical attention, and the more she tries to come across as a serious reporter and caring about finding out the names of the Surgeon’s other victims/getting justice, the less believable it seems. My feelings toward Ainsley changed and warmed as the season went on, right up to the finale...but what happened in tonight’s episode honestly did away with any good feelings I had started to have toward her. She was abusive toward and gaslit Malcolm, full stop, and it was no better coming from her than if it had been Martin doing it. Anyway...yeah. I don’t know what else to say that hasn’t been already said, but I agree with you that it’s absurd to call people “sexist” for disliking Ainsley, especially when my dislike had and has nothing to do with her being a woman. Ugh, so, so tired right now...

[incoherentbabblings]

An Endless Hope (7/9)

After a horrendous blizzard falls over Gotham, Tim undergoes a sharp change in character before disappearing. Upon discovering what has become of him, Stephanie sets off on a solo journey in a magic realm to bring him home, meeting some faces who seem awfully familiar along the way.

Archive Of Our Own Link Click Click!

Stephanie grew angry, frustrated that this world seemed determined to take her through one long extended metaphor of her interpersonal relationships. Whomever this old woman was supposed to be, she had no time for it.

“Yes, yes. ‘Tis me. A human being. I am trying to get to the ice witch’s palace, but this lovely creature decided here was a better stop. Not to be rude but… I’m not here willingly.”

The old woman smiled at Stephanie’s attitude.

“Come in. Warm up. If you want into that palace I can help, but I’ll need to know your purpose.”

“No,” Stephanie stubbornly pushed back. “I can find my own way in.”

The lady was not impressed, trudging up to Stephanie and Abie. She grabbed Stephanie’s ankle and tugged hard, making Stephanie tumble off the reindeer and land face first in the snow.

“You will die if you just barge in with no idea how that magic works. Only a fool would do such a thing.”

Raising her head, spitting out snow and glowering at the woman, Stephanie sardonically replied, “Maybe I am a fool.”

“A fool in love?”

Stephanie’s jaw twitched and the lady sighed. She held out a palm for Stephanie to take.

“You haven’t gotten this far on your own. The final steps will be yours, but you will need one last push to get you over the edge.” Chewing her lip, Stephanie took the woman’s hand and was hauled up. After being allowed inside the sweltering hut, Stephanie perched herself on a little wooden bench, taking off her cloak and shoes. The old woman looked back at Abie, “You can come in too Mr Reindeer.”

“His name is Abie,” Stephanie interjected.

Abie trotted inside. He was a little bit too big for the space, but it seemed he appreciated the warmth as much as the plate of beetroot that the lady placed in front of him as he settled on some hay near the fire. The lady pat his large head and looked to Stephanie,

“A good name. What’s yours?”

A plate of cheesy potatoes was pulled out of the oven. Stephanie’s stomach once again grumbled, and she swallowed sorely.

“Oh no. I’m done playing that game. Last time a nice old lady offered me food and help and asked my name I ended up brainwashed for weeks.”

The woman seemed amused at Stephanie’s short fuse temper and asked, “Which old lady?”

“Who knows. A cottage by a big river. I was drowning and she picked me up…” Stephanie looked down at her gloves, feeling a stab of sympathy for the old lady. “I think she was lonely and wanted the company. I must have looked like a gift from God.”

The old lady snorted, unimpressed.

“Good thing I have no interest in letting you stay here very long then,” and Stephanie watched as the old lady piled two plates high full of cheesy goodness. “I am a witch, not like the one whose castle you are hunting, but I look after the land surrounding. There’s a couple of us here and there. We maintain our little plots of land and try to keep out of trouble from people like the Princess of Summer or the Snow Queen.”

“I met the Summer Princess, I think. She’d just gotten married.”

The old lady made an impressed face. “Red hair? Green eyes? Jaundice skin?”

Stephanie nodded, “Yes. A palace in the trees?”

The old lady whistled, sitting down next to Stephanie, and tucking into her meal. She placed the second plate and fork on Stephanie’s lap.

“Took her long enough. She’s a good girl really, a little proud, but when things get hard our pride is all we have. Her pride prevented her happiness for some time though.”

Stephanie sighed, looked at the potatoes, then Abie resting against the fire, and turned to eat. It was very tasty.

The two ate in silence for a while, and when Stephanie was finished, the lady took her plate and placed it in the sink.

“So,” the woman said gripping her counter. “A human crossed the border and is trying to get to the Snow Queen’s palace. There is strong magic around her home. I can help you cross, but I need to know why.”

“She took someone.”

“Another human? Yes, she does that sometimes.” The old lady turned, a suspicious eye on Stephanie. “But no-one has ever been followed. No rescue attempt has ever been made. You jumped borders to find them. Who is this person to you?”

“He’s my… he’s mine. My person. My boy.”

The woman’s suspicious look grew soft, “Your heart?”

“I love him very much,” Stephanie said simply. “He doesn’t deserve to be abandoned or forgotten.”

The heat was becoming uncomfortable, so Stephanie looked for permission to take off her tights.

“Oh, yes. Sorry. I have to keep it very warm here.”

“Understandably.”

The woman with a sigh sat down opposite Stephanie once more. She grew solemn.

“It is good, that you are motivated by love. She doesn’t understand such a thing. It means you can get inside.”

Stephanie could not let go entirely of her suspicion of witches, and asked, “Why would you help me? Surely it won’t matter to you if I fail or succeed. Actually, if anything, if I do succeed… she might hurt you.”

“Oh, she wouldn’t dare. Don’t you worry about that. It’ll be nice for her to learn a lesson about humans and their tenacity for once. I’m tired of her taking and taking with no thought to the consequences. She sees you all as so weak.” A breath, a stilted silence, and Stephanie waited patiently. When the woman spoke again, it was with a quiet urgency, a need to make Stephanie understand the severity of her quest. “You're going to have to give something up, something you love, something he loves, in order to reach the throne room."

Stephanie thought for a moment, then offered her hands entreating, "My gloves. I made them for him. Took me weeks. Would these do?"

The lady sighed, then pushed Stephanie's hands back towards her chest.

"No. I'm afraid that's not enough." She inspected Stephanie from head to toe, and Stephanie fought the urge to push that there was nothing else on her that Tim loved, outside of her own life.

Oh. Was this where it had all been heading? Childhood, first love, parenthood... Death?

Clasping her hands to her chest, she begged, "There has to be something..."

Reaching forward, the lady tugged the at the hair tie that held in what remained of the fantastic braid the Summer Princess had given Stephanie. It had mostly fallen out during the fight and flight from the robbers, but still. The lady lightly combed her trembling wrinkled fingers through Stephanie’s hair. It was still curly and wavy, a little bit wild, but soft and shining.

It really was too long. But Tim liked it, even if he had never said so aloud, so she had put off getting it cut for over a year. She liked that he liked it.

Stephanie’s breathing stilled. “Take it.”

“You’re sure?” The lady brushed Stephanie’s cheek as she stood up. Fumbling through some cabinets, it seemed she was looking for a pair of scissors.

“It’ll grow back,” Stephanie pushed. Grabbing the curls in two bundles, she shook the golden strands. “It’s like twenty inches at this point. I don’t need it. Not if it will help Tim.”

Panting with panic, Stephanie watched the lady struggle to find anything to chop her hair with. There was a spinning wheel in the corner but the woman honestly didn’t have a pair of scissors?

“A simple pair of scissors will not do,” said the woman, seemingly reading Stephanie’s mind. What else would work?

“Wait, here,” and Stephanie pulled out from her belt the knife the boy had given her. “Can you use this?”

The woman looked shocked that Stephanie even had such a thing. “Where did you get this?”

“A little boy gave it to me. The robbers who live by the edge of the forest.”

The woman took the knife. “This is a very special weapon. He would not have let go of such a thing so lightly.”

Stephanie resolved to find the precious boy and return the knife once her and Tim began their journey home.

Moving behind Stephanie, the woman twisted up her hair into the beginnings of what would have been a French twist. Holding the knife near the base of her neck, Stephanie prayed she hadn’t made a mistake of trusting the wrong person.

The woman paused and asked for one last confirmation, “This isn’t just hair, you know? Well, it is for you maybe, but over here –”

“I’ve cut it short before. He didn’t care. Hurry up,” Stephanie snapped. “I need to go to him, he needs me. Long hair or bald.”

“Well you won’t be bald,” the lady reassured, tone teasingly pleasant. “Just a little bit of a choppy cut. But still, I’ll ask again. What’s your name? And what is the name of the boy you are hunting for?”

Stephanie gulped, knowing she probably didn’t have much of a choice, especially with a sharp knife very close to her spinal cord.

“My name is Stephanie Brown. And I’m wanting to find Timothy Drake and bring him home.”

The woman whispered to herself, and then the sound of the sharp knife cutting through her hair like hot butter made Stephanie shiver and cry out, almost as if someone had pulled one of her fingers from its joint. For an unknown reason she began to cry. She felt the short strands of hair fall down and frame her face. Her right hand went up to feel the damage and the woman stepped in front of her. She placed the knife back in Stephanie’s lap and shook the thick and long clump of hair in her other hand. Stephanie looked up at her, eyes wet and red.

“You’ll have to wait a bit longer,” the old woman said as she trundled over to the spinning wheel. Feeling unsteady on her feet, Stephanie got up and watched the old woman whisper at her chopped off hair and begin to thread the machine.

“You can’t make yarn out of human hair,” Stephanie protested, voice thick with phlegm made by her tears. “It’s not good for that.”

“Ahem. Who is the magic lady here? You’ve heard stories of people turning hay to gold right?”

“Rumpelstiltskin?”

“That’s a terrible name. But if we can do it with hay, imagine what we can do with hair…”

And she began to spin, muttering to herself every now and then, whilst Stephanie repeatedly ran her hands through her short hair. Shortly after her first pregnancy she had chopped most of it off and obsessively straightened it. Back then she had told herself it was because it was getting difficult to manage its length under her Spoiler mask, but in hindsight it made just as much sense to blame it on wanting to start fresh. She had her baby, she knew Tim’s name, and they had begun their relationship in earnest, both as Robin and Spoiler and Tim and Steph. New beginnings and all that. She’d also wanted Dana and Jack to take her more seriously. Short straight hair belonged to a more responsible lady. Not a frivolous teen mom. Fat lot of good it had done her, but she had tried.

She had tried.

“Listen closely,” the woman said, twisting the hair and pressing the pedal as she worked. “I know what she does to the humans she brings back with her. She longs for their fragile beauty to be preserved, but the entire kidnapping process is just too traumatic for humans, so they quickly die. From the cold, from grief… doesn’t matter. They can’t survive with her. So, in recent decades, she’s been testing freezing their hearts. They can survive longer in the cold that way. But freezing their hearts strips them of what she loves about humans. But she’s too foolish to understand why she loves them so.”

She paused and looked at Stephanie. A moment passed of uncomfortable silence, and the woman narrowed her dark eyes at Stephanie.

“You know why you love this boy, correct?”

“Yes.”

“Tell me.”

“Does it matter? Is chopping my hair off and coming all this way not proof enough that I love him?”

The lady was having none of Stephanie’s bashful anger, and pushed harder, “I need to know why.”

Stephanie grabbed a tuff of her short hair and walked away, over to Abie and the fire. She was sweating, she was so warm.

“Because he understands. He understands what I’ve gone through and he doesn’t think me weak or foolish for it. He’s watched me grow up and he’s proud of me. He’s grown up too. He doesn’t make me do things I don’t want to do. He indulges whatever stupid fancy I get into my head. Like me growing flowers as a substitute for children because he knows that it’s just what I need to do at that moment to work through something in my head. I’m not a victim to him, I’m a hero. He’s beautiful. He has breath that smells like coca cola and he holds me like if I’m not there with him nothing in the world makes sense. He told me once I keep him on the straight and narrow and I like that what I think matters to him. He’s so smart and he’s so kind and genuine and when we argue it’s not over whether or not I forgot to do the laundry last night… Because he’s been through so much pain, that it leaks out in odd ways… he tries so hard to not let it colour the good times. And yet he tries to be better. And I want to help him be better because he believes I am better too. And he’s gentle. Oh my God… he’s so gentle with me. I can't give that up. No-one else has ever come close.”

The sound of the fire crackling and the reindeer snoring filled the cabin, and eventually the cranking of the spinning wheel stopped. Stephanie looked up to see gold embroidery thread in the woman’s left hand and a needle in the right. She looked at Stephanie like a proud grandmother.

“Sew this into your gloves. You’ll be able to open the doors of her palace then.”

Brushing her cheeks clear of tears, Stephanie nodded, sat down, took off the gloves, and set to work.

“You’ll enter the palace, and then you’ll find him. Then what?”

“We’ll go home.”

“He may not be able to leave. He may not want to leave. He may not remember you, or home, or your family. Any of it.”

“Magic?”

“Magick,” the lady corrected, and Stephanie rolled her eyes. “When his behaviour changed, what preceded it?”

Stephanie paused in her sewing, thinking out loud. “He’d seen a figure in the storm. It must have been her watching him. We were playing outside, and the snow picked up. He was looking upwards, sticking his tongue out to catch snowflakes. Something got in his eye. It was so sudden.”

“It’s a speciality of hers. A type of glass. It gets in your body and freezes everything. No love, no warmth. It fades away. All that’s left is an insatiable boredom and coldness in both mind and body that can’t be relieved.”

“He kissed me,” Stephanie remembered. “Right before he left. I think it was him, one last burst, before he slipped away.”

The lady smiled and wrapped up the cooled dinner she had made, setting it on the windowsill.

“True love’s kiss? Clever boy to try. It works in some instances, but not here. This is a physical object that needs removing.”

“From his eye? What can I do? Aside ripping out his eyeball.”

“Don’t… don’t dismiss the possibility entirely.”

“I will not hurt him.”

The lady tapped Stephanie’s breastbone. “You humans. All so soft. So warm. I believe you know what kind of world you are in Stephanie. Play by our rules. It will get you there. I believe in you, for what an old lady’s opinion is worth.”

Stephanie watched at the lady settled in a rocking chair and closed her eyes to rest. Tilting her head, Stephanie smiled.

“I know who you remind me of.”

“Someone nice I hope.”

“A doctor. Back home. She gave me a second chance. Made me realise I’m not a total failure.”

The lady smiled in response. “Who else have you met on your journey?”

“Mother…best friend… mentor… family of maybe one day in-laws? And you.”

“Who is left then?”

Stephanie’s smile faltered, and she returned to sewing. “No-one good.”

She wasn’t intending to make a pattern with the thread. She didn’t have time. She did the hems of the wrists and fingers and made several lines of hidden stitches up and down the ribbing. She worked until she ran out of thread.

She put the gloves back on. In the dimming light of dusk, they glimmered. Golden lines shooting through the pitch black. Stephanie stood up and announced,

“Done.”

Abie looked up, sensing she would be setting off soon. The old lady rose up and opened the front door, letting the cold flood in. The sun had nearly set.

“It will not rise again for you. Eternal winter from here on out. Which is good news for you, hate to have you go snow blind.” The lady walked to Abie and pat his nose with careful deliberateness. “Drop her off at the red berry bushes. Then come back here.”

In a flurry of excitement that panicked Steph, the reindeer bucked up and thrust his big snout under Stephanie, pushing her up and over onto his back.

“No wait! I need to get my coat and shoes and –”

“Good luck Stephanie!” The lady proclaimed at the door, gesturing for Abie to set off once more. “The gloves will keep you warm for a time, but not forever. You'll need to gift them over to Timothy if you want to leave the palace. Be swift!”

“I’ll freeze!”

She tried to get off, but the reindeer once again began to canter, causing her to shriek in fright and pain. No cloak, bare legs and toes, with only a peasant blouse and a purple pinafore dress to protect her from the cold. Her mittens wouldn’t even protect her fingertips.

“No, no, no. I’m no good to anyone if I’m dead,” she howled over the wind, which stole her voice away. “You have to take me back.”

The reindeer ignored her and continued onwards. Feeling like she was being stabbed thousands of times by the smallest of needles, she continued to cry out in pain, fingers tightening in the reindeer’s fur in an attempt to focus her brain.

Eventually Abie slowed to a trot, unable to keep up the pace, and Stephanie was allowed to catch her breath. She was cold, of course she was, but not enough to fear for her life just yet. Maybe she had a bit of extra endurance thanks to the old lady and the gloves, but still; she would have had a lot more time if she had been allowed to put on her tights.

They continued along in the darkness. The sky was clear, and Stephanie spent most of the journey looking up at the sky. Moonlight did its job enough to let her see shadows and adjust so she was not riding blind. She’d seen the Milky Way from her time in Africa, but still. This was another planet, so their stars and galaxies were different. Her mouth dropped open as her eyes adjusted, and she laughed with joy at the sight of the night sky in full.

She had no idea for how long they ran. At some point the equivalent of the Northern Lights sprung into life, dancing across the sky. It was the first time Stephanie had seen such a thing, and she marvelled at the dancing blue, green and purple lights, shimmering like curtains in the breeze. They were so bright they lit up the snow as they crossed hill after mound, up and down across sweeping valleys. Abie chuffed and sped up a little.

“Are we getting close? We must be…” Stephanie asked. Her heart stuttered, and she knew her question to be true.

They finally crossed the summit of one final peak, and Stephanie gasped loudly at the sight. Where the Princess of Summer had seemingly taken care to integrate her home into the surrounding environment, the palace that Stephanie gawked at in the centre of the valley was anything but incorporated.

It was far too large to be occupied by one creature. It spanned the width of the valley, seemingly hovering a hundred feet from the valley basin, a frozen river flowing underneath. There was one path in and out of the structure, the road built into the hillside. Numerous towers in sharp angular shapes pierced the lit-up atmosphere, and the entire fortress glowed and reflected the dancing night sky.

Very distantly, Stephanie could see a purple blob on the river. Tilting her head, she realised it was her car, half buried in snow and ice.

The pair slowly made their way down the pass. Stephanie brought her feet up, her toes burning from the cold, to tuck them under her legs. The reindeer had a broader back than any horse, so she tried her best to perch delicately. Her shivering had gotten painful, teeth chattering and breathing difficult. She readjusted her grip on his neck, and lowered herself down, trying to take some of his warmth. What had that woman done, sending her out here with none of her warm clothes?

White bare trees marked the beginning of the bridge, which was lined with red holly bushes. Abie stopped, and Stephanie knew this was where she was on her own. Looking down, at the snow and ice that she would have to plant her feet into, she gulped. Slowly, bracing, she lowered herself down, crying out when her toes reached the floor. The snow was so tightly packed she did not sink in, but her body temperature was still warm enough to melt it slightly underfoot. She very quickly felt chilblains developing. Much more time here and she would be frostbitten.

She looked to the reindeer, who seemed a little mournful, like he was sending her off to her doom. She smiled shakily and smacked a wet kiss to his snout.

“Thank you, Abie. Be good!”

Abie chuffed, then turned around and left her. The sound of his snow treading hooves filled the valley, and Stephanie heard her own pulse throbbing in her head. She watched him go, just for a moment, then turned back towards the road. Shaking her feet like she would before a sprint and taking several icy breaths, building herself up for her task, she sprinted across the bridge. Going through the front door was perhaps not the most sensible option, but it was the only entrance she could see. She wasn’t about to go smashing her way into an ice palace (yet). She tried to keep quiet as she bolted across the several hundred-metre stretch, but the cold stung, and she cried out in pain.

There was no wind. There was no life. Empty and beautiful and cold. The purple and green sky made her feel like she was in a nightmare, the feeling akin to when she had been in and out of fevered consciousness during her time with Black Mask. The visuals made no sense and she was cold. Very cold.

Death. It was just like lying on that hospital bed, Leslie forcibly restarting her heart the few times it found the strain of living with a broken body too much.

She crashed into the huge door, slipping when the snow turned to ice, and the sounded reverbed over the valley. She fumbled with the huge doors, trying to locate something to grip and push or pull so she could slide in, but it was perfectly smooth and clear – clear enough to let her see the inside. There was no-one, nothing. No sign of life to be found.

She banged on the door hard, shrieking,

“Hey! Hey! You have someone who doesn’t belong to you! Give him back! Hello! Let me in!”

Kicking did no good, nor did body slamming it. Hot tears began to form again, and after one ill advised head butt, she slumped forward on her knees. There was not even a crack in the ice from all her efforts. It was ice, not diamond, why couldn’t she make a dent?

“I haven’t come all this way to be beaten at the front door,” she hissed. She pressed her gloved hands against the ice. “You can’t… you can’t keep him from me. Let me in!”

Something in the ice gave way, and she stumbled forward onto her thighs. Her hands, or rather the gloves, had melted all the way through. Squealing, she got a grip on the other side, and ripped through a hole. She did it again and again, opening up a space near the ground that was big enough for her to crawl through.

She scrambled inside ungraciously, and to her disappointment it was no warmer inside than outside. She remained on the floor, strength leaving her, until she was able to grip what she supposed was a side table and haul herself up. Movement caught her eye as she rose, and when she looked to the side, tense, she screeched. The sound echoed through the empty high-ceilinged antechamber. Stephanie cringed at how girly she sounded as she lost her footing on the ice and slipped, smacking her head again.

Well, now everyone knows you’re here.

Everyone being no-one, as no movement or noise appeared in response to her antics. Grunting, she pulled herself up to look in the mirror which had frightened her. Still not quite to grips with her appearance, she again reached up and curled her fingers into her hair.

It was lopped so choppily into a bob that, coupled with her full bangs, it made her look like she was six years old again, when she had found a pair of scissors in the bathroom and deigned to give herself a haircut. Crystal had found it funny. Arthur had not.

Her nose was red, as were her cheeks. Her lips were cracked and raw, and the skin around her eyes were stiff and sore. The water she had cried had quickly frozen in the wind as her and Abie ran, and it had not been kind to her skin. There was a giant red mark on her forehead from headbutting a solid ice door. She looked a mess.

“Keep going,” she breathed, trying not to falter. “Nearly there. Keep going, Steph.”

She stirred up enough energy to jog through the palace, occasionally losing her footing on the slippery ice.

Stephanie followed the corridors inwards, the refracting and reflecting light from outside disorientating and confusing. No matter which way she turned, no matter which empty rooms she entered, they all seemed to be pointing towards the centre of the structure. She cried out for Tim every now and then, in the empty hollow rooms, seeing as there was nothing living in the castle, but in her heart she knew, even if he could hear her, he probably wouldn’t care enough to answer.

As she continued, her pace slowed. Her limbs grew heavier and her walking faltered. It became her pushing herself upwards and onwards, only to make it a few steps before collapsing to her knees again. She used the walls and what little furniture there was as support, but she was sluggish and tired. Her limbs burned and breathing was laborious.

Finally, she reached another set of doors, these ones made from a crystal rather than ice, so she could not see what lay on the other side. Her heart thumped erratically, and she was sweating. She was so close. This door had handles thankfully, so Stephanie managed to grip it, getting to her feet one last time, and shove it open.

A huge amphitheatre opened up before her, dozens of meters high. There were steps down leading to the main open space which circled around a throne, suspended on what looked like a gravity defyingly crooked and thin staircase.

At the base, sat very neatly with crossed legs, was Tim.

“Tim!” Stephanie cried out. He looked up at her, face confused, and even from the distance, Stephanie could see he did not look well.

Her heart jerked, throwing her forwards. Stephanie took a step to run down to meet him, but her feet had grown numb from the cold, and she stumbled.

Tim watched, disinterested, as a blonde girl wearing a thin blouse and woollen dress fell down the clear stairs. She was not quiet in her descent, crying out and cursing at each solid smack and crack. She tumbled head over ankles before coming to rest for a moment on the flat ground. Tim watched as she whimpered and lay still for a moment, apparently catching her breath.

Feeling nothing more than confusion over the bizarre appearance, his attention returned to his task of spelling a word from broken mirror shards.

“Tim!”

When he looked up at the sound of his name, the blonde girl crashed into him, wrapping him up in the warmest embrace he had felt for weeks. Her hot breath moved through his hair, and he felt a solid, tempting heat emanate from the centre of her chest.

“Tim,” she sobbed. “Tim! I found you!”

[treatian]

The Chronicles of the Dark One:  Storybrooke, Maine

Chapter 7:  Games

He took the sword back to his shop. He put it into a nice case, something to assure it couldn't be so easily stolen again, and then he sat in the back and waited. He waited, and he stared. He waited, and he pulled out the potion he'd mixed for himself. He waited and pondered whether or not he should take it. He waited and concluded that whether or not he should take it depended on what happened next.

He wasn't magical here, he couldn't use a mirror or a cauldron to see what was happening, and he couldn't use a crystal ball to see what had happened, and he couldn't use the Seer to see what would happen. Here, he had to use his own intellect. He had to go with what he knew. With Snow White and David awake, the future was uncertain. Until he was certain this problem was fixed, he couldn't put himself under again. And he was confident that he would know when and if it was.

Regina. She was paranoid. He'd heard Snow say that she was on to them in the forest. If they got away or took the potion and stayed, he felt certain that she'd come to him either way. There was no need to watch the news for answers; she'd bring it right to him. He was confident…but that didn't mean that waiting for that moment was any better. By the time he finally heard the bell to his store chime, he was ready to jump out of his own skin. He wanted to sigh with relief when he saw it was Regina, but instead, he kept a straight face. He didn't want her to know that he was awake. For this encounter, he had to be sure he wore the mask of Mr. Gold and not Rumpelstiltskin.

"Well…I thought you'd at least have the sense to hide out in your cabin."

"Excuse me?" he asked innocently enough. Fortunately, he'd played Mr. Gold for so long it barely took a thought to summon him forth.

"Don't play dumb with me!" Regina yelled, striding toward him. "You know everything about this town, cursed or not, and I refuse to believe you haven't a clue what's been going on today! This sort of thing reeks of you!"

"Madam Mayor…" he chuckled to himself. "I'm flattered you think so highly of me, but considering my work here, I think you'll find I'm quite ignorant of whatever event you are speaking of. Tell me…what have I missed?"

She stared him down, her eyes looking for a lie, but he was older than her and had been lying since before she was born. She'd find nothing in his stare. "A John Doe escaped from the hospital this morning," she spat out quickly. "He'd been in a coma for as long as the doctors can remember. We've been searching for him all day!"

"Well, that is a lovely story of recovery, but it seems to me that he might be in search of his family and not a pawnbroker. I do hope you find him, though."

"We have," she answered. "Mary Margaret located him in the woods. By then, he'd fallen back into a coma. We only just barely got him back to the hospital in time to save his life."

His heartbeat raced. Found in the woods…they hadn't gone through with it. They were still here, David was still in a coma and Snow…Mary Margaret...

"Ah…then it seems to me you should be speaking to his doctors or better yet Ms. Blanchard to see if he revealed a name before she found him."

"Enough with the lies!" Regina yelled, fumbling for something in her pocket. She stepped up close to show it to him. It was a vial. It was the vial! It was the vial he'd put the potion into. It was empty. Snow and David had taken it. All was as it should be…nearly.

"That's mine!" he breathed, faking surprise as he plucked it from her fingers. "That's part of my collection, but it's been in the back. It's not for sale until I can have it cleaned. How did you get it?"

Regina scoffed. "Like you don't know."

He didn't have to play the part, something deep in his chest, Mr. Gold, he suspected, didn't like the disrespect she was showing. It was easy enough to work with.

"Madam Mayor, I assure you this vial is part of my alchemical collection from the 1560s. It's worth…hundreds of dollars, even without the rest of the collection. I wouldn't let it out of my sight."

"Then how did it end up outside, today, of all days."

"I have no idea. I was here all day."

"All day."

"Except…"

"Except?"

"When I left for lunch."

Regina smiled like a cat who had just captured a very tasty mouse. "Granny's was closed today," she pointed out. "Everyone was searching, including her."

"Which is why I had to eat lunch at home," he explained easily. "I wasn't sure why she was closed, so I just went home, made myself a sandwich, spent perhaps a bit too much time reading the paper. He must have stopped in then."

She crossed her arms in front of her in frustration. That was good. When she'd first walked in here, she was convinced he had his memories, and now she was starting to doubt herself. It was all a lie, but lying was second nature not only to him...but to Gold as well. Mr. Gold knew as well as he did that the best way to get away with a lie was to be confident in it, to believe the lie was the truth. He really was himself and Gold. How fortunate and startling all at once.

"Did you forget to lock your shop?" Regina questioned, trying to find holes in his story. There would be none.

"I never forget to lock the shop."

"Did your shop appear broken into?"

"Not to my eyes, but then, I'm not a detective, Regina. We'd need your bedmate for that."

"What are you talking about?" Her arms fell, and her face dropped at that particular comment. That was exactly what he'd wanted to happen.

"I think we both know what I'm talking about, Regina. You and your sheriff...quite the lone wolf that one, I doubt he'll ever really settle down."

He smiled as Regina watched him carefully. Now that she was starting to believe him, he had to admit he'd thrown that quip about him being a lone wolf in just for the fun of it. And he was about to have some more. There was no magic in this world for him to use, not on his own. But Storybrooke was a town made of magic that had been carefully woven together like firm strands of thread into fabric long before they'd arrived. That's why he was so certain what he was about to say would work, even if he didn't have his powers at the moment.

"Now, the day's nearly done, and I have work to do," he explained, pocketing the vial. "So if there's nothing else you have to report to me, Madam Mayor, then you'll excuse me…please."

He smirked perhaps a little bit more than he wanted to on that, but it was impossible not to as Regina's eyes went round as saucers, and she looked like she'd been slapped. He liked this. He enjoyed this game of keeping her in a state of confusion over what he knew and didn't know. But sadly, as she turned on her heel and left, he acknowledged that it was the last time he'd play the game for a while.

Things were as they should be. He'd been holding off on taking that potion for himself until he knew for certain they were right. Now he knew. And yes, he could stay awake as he was now. He could continue to keep Regina in a constant state of "is he or isn't he"…but eighteen years was an awfully long time to wait, an awfully long time to play a game that would only be mildly interesting. Years ago, he'd seen what happened as Regina cracked. The only one in the town with memories made it a prison. Having false memories, being under the Curse…it was easy compared to that. It really was just like living in a dream. It was lonely, the world always would be without Belle or Baelfire, but he'd rather live the next eighteen years of his life in a lonely dream than counting down the days until Emma's birthday. He'd rather grow angry and irate every day at the sight of the broken down library across the street than be reminded of Belle when he looked at it. He'd rather Baelfire's old ball just be a ball rather than a memory of his son.

There was no question in his mind. He was going to put himself under again. And in eighteen years, he'd wake up, and he'd meet the Savior, get her to break the Curse, and play the game with Regina all over again. But until then…

He put the empty vial back in his black bag and put it away, as it had been, then he wandered back out to the place he'd been when David burst in…no, he couldn't do it this way. David had burst in nearly first thing that morning. It was afternoon now. What would Gold think when so much time had passed? It wouldn't be the first time Mr. Gold had worked through lunch, but the missing hours were too much. He sighed as he got down onto the floor. He had memories of David with the sword. Now the sword was in a different place. He'd let Mr. Gold think that he'd been assaulted and knocked out and was only just now waking up; ironic when he was about to go to sleep and re-enter the dream. He only hoped that Gold did nothing to make Regina even more suspicious of what had happened today.

Laying on the floor, he gripped the potion tight, summoned up images of Belle and Bae, his two favorite people in the world, then closed his eyes and swallowed the potion. His last act was to toss the vial far away from him so that Mr. Gold would never suspect-

Something shattered far away. He was on the floor, laying on his left side, his cane still in his hand. How had he gotten to the floor? He sat up slowly and looked around. His eyes landed on the windows, the shadows outside…that wasn't the way it had looked before…before…

His last memory was the man he had told to get out of his shop, heading for the door. He must have gone, but…he'd grabbed a sword and…

His eyes went to the umbrella stand. No sword. No strange man. He must have…he must have come after him. The man had been angry or frustrated; it was hard to remember. But he'd been crazy; he remembered that much. After he turned to leave…they must have had some kind of altercation. Maybe he'd hit him? He didn't feel sore anywhere, but he preferred to think that over the scenario where he fainted like some kind of damsel. If he'd hit him, it would have knocked him out for several hours; that would have been why the shadows resembled later afternoon rather than early morning.

He listened carefully, suddenly wondering if the man could be in the back. Perhaps that was the sound of glass breaking he'd heard. But there were no sounds from anywhere. He was alone. Truly alone. He used his cane to get to his feet and shuffled into the back to find what had fallen and broken. He had to call the police and report an incident; the sooner, the better.

He had work to do.

[princesstadashi]

Big Hero 6/OUAT AU

Okay guys--so I worked this whole big AU up in my head while I was at work today, inspired by @honeyxmonkey ‘s Tangled the series OUAT AU and @greensword101​ ‘s accompanying ask to me about Fred finding Hiro and giving him a hug once the curse was broken! Now, sadly I think I accidentally left my page of notes at work, or else they’re just lost somewhere in my bag, but I’m going to type of everything that I remember and hope for the best--here we go!

Backstory of how everyone got dragged into the curse: So I’m not even going to try to go into weird multi-versey type shit and try to be detailed with this but what you need to know is that Fred/Tadashi and Honey Lemon/Gogo are the main ships here, and Fred’s mom/Gogo’s parents are not happy about this, like at all. I have this headcanon that Gogo’s parents, while not as wealthy as Fred’s parents, are pretty well off (business owners? doctors? I’ll leave it up to your imagination) and are not at all happy with Gogo’s lifestyle choices/were probably emotionally and psychologically if not physically abusive to her, which is why as soon as she could she ran away to live with Honey Lemon’s family, and she and Honey Lemon eventually got together. Definitely not the match her parents wanted for her and they’re still mad that she wasn’t this perfect feminine daughter that they wanted. Fred’s mom is kind of the same way but mostly she’s just homophobic as shit and also wanted to marry Fred off to some rich girl like her and Fred’s dad’s parents did to the two of them. When it came down to choosing, Fred’s dad chose his son over her and divorced her, so she’s pissed because of that. 

Moving forward before this gets too long: Long story short, Gogo’s parents and Fred’s mom kind of knew each other from moving in the same social circles and when they somehow find out about the curse (which wasn’t going to hit most of San Fransokyo, if at all) they either go to Regina or (more likely) Rumpelstiltskin and make a deal so that they can get not only themselves and their families pulled into this other world where they can have the lives that they wanted, but also pull in the friends and other people who encouraged Gogo and Fred to be themselves and “punish” them for what they did. 

Characters Involved and Their Lives After the Curse:

Fred (new name: George): Engaged to Gogo (a match set up by his mom and Gogo’s parents), his dad in the cursed world doesn’t even fight his mom on things so he had no one to teach him to fight for himself and so he’s just sort of letting life get away from him and hiding in his fantasy stories and comics to escape reality.

Gogo (Edith): Engaged to Fred, never actually rebelled and never ran away from home so while she’s still got her fighting spirit on the inside it’s mostly been stamped out and she spends her days going to social events she hates and acting like she’s the perfect daughter she isn’t.

Honey Lemon (Heather): Works in an overly busy dress shop trying to earn money for college but is so underpaid she barely makes rent, let alone being able to save anything. She does all the tailoring on Gogo’s dresses and other clothes, including working on the wedding dress (which Gogo’s mom is never happy with, she’s probably made fifty dresses by now.) She and Gogo are secretly having a bit of a relationship (fitting rooms = closed doors and privacy with limited clothes for at least a short period of time) but no one can know. (More on the relationship below.)

Wasabi (Darnell): Honey Lemon’s roommate. Also trying to earn money for college (also failing at it), he works cleaning Fred’s family’s house--he’s great at the job because he’s so detail and cleanliness oriented, but he hates being around any germs, and the biggest part of the curse for him is having to clean Fred’s room.

Hiro (Nico): Hiro is a foster kid being “raised” by a horrible man named Montel (a.k.a. Yama) who forces Hiro into stealing things for him to “pay his keep” (and Hiro has the scars to show what happens if he disappoints him.)

Aunt Cass (Rachel): Works as the cook of Fred’s family, Fred’s mother delights in ordering her to make ridiculously elaborate and detailed meals, whether they have company or not, and then criticizing every part of them. Rachel would probably leave except she has a young son, Max, to look after and she can’t afford losing a job and having him taken away from her. (Red herring name alert: Max is actually a human version of Mochi, but if I ever turn this into an actual story it will be fun to throw people a bit off the trail! Also the reason Fred’s mom pulled Aunt Cass into this is because she felt Aunt Cass encouraged Tadashi and Fred to get together, being bi herself, and so she has an especial and very misplaced hatred for her.)

Tadashi (Shiro): Tadashi was found on the outskirts of town unconscious and covered in horrific burn scars. No one new his name except a few letters on a very decayed medical alert bracelet that looked a bit like Shiro (Tadashi Hamada--the “H” and “a” were pretty smeared kind of looked like “r” and “o”, the rest were completely illegible, so they guessed a bit on his name.) He was put in the hospital and put into a medically induced coma while he continued healing. When Emma came to town and time started moving again, Tadashi recovered enough for them to wake him up, but he has no memory of who he was or who his family was, and as his burns were still very severe and had gotten infected he’s still in the hospital for a very long time. (Explanation for Tadashi being alive: back in BH 6 world Fred’s dad, being a superhero, rescued Tadashi but since Tadashi was in such bad condition was still trying to get him back to being stable before letting anyone know that he was alive in case he didn’t make it. Fred’s mom did not count on this being a factor when she made the deal!)

Baymax (Mike): Baymax is a nurse in the hospital where Tadashi is being kept--in Once Upon a Time fashion, he did become human once in our world (I imagine his appearance being a lot like Aziraphale’s, only his irises are dark brown/almost black.) Another glitch in the curse (this time a literal one): even though Baymax’s memories were changed/rewritten for the curse, as a robot his system had backup storage for his memories. Robot brain being combined with a human brain was not quite compatible, so Baymax still talks/moves a bit like a robot which means a lot of people make fun of him for that, but more importantly, while he doesn’t remember everything, Baymax does have flashes of memories from the other world, and somewhat remembers being a robot. Of course anyone he tries to explain this to acts like he’s crazy so he’s learned to keep it to himself, but needless to say he feels a very strong connection to his patient, Shiro (who he at least on some level realizes is probably Tadashi), and is very, very protective of him. 

(This started getting long so actual story development below the cut!)

Story Ideas:

-Fred and Gogo, while resigned to their eventual marriage,are still both incredibly gay in spite of being forced into the closet, so their general secret arrangement is that they’ll be married for their parents’ sake but both are free to privately have lovers or partners (as long as their parents don’t find out about it.) Gogo’s first choice, of course, is Honey Lemon. Honey Lemon is totally in love with Gogo, but she’s torn as to whether she’d truly be happy spending her life as someone’s mistress and not truly married to someone she loves.

-Fred and Hiro meet for the first time when Fred catches Hiro breaking into his room, having been sent by Yama to loot the house. Fred almost calls security, but he sees how skinny Hiro is and how beat up he is and takes pity on him. He wants to call CPS but Hiro begs him not to, afraid of being sent to an even worse home (he has curse memories of being in even worse homes to keep him from ever leaving Yama.) Fred would gladly try to take Hiro in himself but he’s too afraid of what his mother would say. So instead he and Hiro make a deal--any time that Hiro wants to, he can come by the house, and Fred will provide him with money or whatever else he needs to take back to Yama to avoid getting in trouble, and then Hiro gets to secretly spend a few hours with Fred, playing video games, reading comics, doing all the fun kid stuff he never gets to do at home--and of course Aunt Cass makes it her mission to make sure that Hiro always gets at least one good meal while he’s there, even though she doesn’t understand why it hurts so much to see this teenager she doesn’t even know leave to go back to his foster home.

-Hiro and Baymax meet when Hiro’s class goes to the hospital to help decorate it for the patients (remember when Henry went and met “John Doe”? Same visit, even though Hiro is of course in a different, older class and also probably in a different wing of the hospital.) Baymax sees Hiro and, with his glitchy memories of the other world, remembers Hiro, but unfortunately Hiro is only freaked out by this stranger calling him Hiro (”My name is Niko!”) and acting like he knows him. Finally Baymax has to give up on that. Still, he “conveniently” sends Hiro to decorate the room of a sleeping patient in the burn unit. Hiro is grumbling about how stupid all of this is, how decorating a room won’t really help anyone, when he hears a voice saying, “No act of kindness, no matter how small, is a waste.” He turns around to realize that the sleeping patient has woken up. 

The patient introduces himself as Shiro, and even though Hiro feels weird talking to this guy who’s mostly covered in bandages, somehow they end up talking all the same, and Hiro finds himself spilling his whole life story to Shiro, who turns out to be a great listener. When Hiro’s teacher tells him it’s time to leave, Hiro finds he actually doesn’t want to go! But Tadashi asks him to wait for a moment, and then pulls a small bag of gummy bears out from a bag by his bed, saying, “Here. My nurse brought these for me and I was saving them for later, but I think you need them more than me.” Which almost makes Hiro cry because he loves gummy bears but he can’t even remember the last time that he had them. (A.K.A. Hasn’t had them since being sent here by the curse.) He promises to come back to visit Tadashi as soon as he can, and he makes good on that promise. He and Tadashi can’t do a lot for each other, but they always find ways to do small things, like how Tadashi will always save the desserts from his meals to share with (or more often give to) Hiro, and Hiro will check out books from the library that he thinks Tadashi would like and reads to him. “No act of kindness, no matter how small, is a waste” becomes their motto. 

-Hiro, spending time with both Fred and Tadashi, and having started seeing both of them as older brother/almost dad figures, plus eventually finding out that they’re both gay, starts dreaming of a life where Tadashi heals enough to leave the hospital, then meets and gets together with Fred, and the two of them adopt Hiro and they all live their happily ever after together. Hiro never manages to get Fred to physically come to the hospital with him, but somehow convinces him to become pen pals with a “lonely guy with no family or loved ones to look after him (he totally pulls out the puppy dog eyes guilt trip) and somehow despite anyone’s best efforts to keep it from happening, Tadashi and Fred start to fall in love all over again :)

The Curse Breaks (a,k.a. the one part of the story I actually wrote):

Hiro races towards the center of town, running as fast as he possibly could. He’d through that Montel was evil--he’d never imagined that things could possibly get worse, but when Yama’s memories had returned Hiro was pretty sure it was only the delayed shock of getting all his memories back at once that had let Hiro get away with little more than a bloody nose (and his life.) Hiro had no idea what the hell was happening--how he was here, in some town called Storybrooke and not in San Fransokyo, and how he had these two completely different lives and memories living in his head and currently at war with each other--but all he really knew is that he needed to get somewhere safe. Somewhere that Yama couldn’t find him and hurt him. 

“Hiro!” Hiro almost kept running when he heard someone shouting his name, too terrified of Yama catching up with him if he stopped, but then he suddenly felt arms wrapping around him and, after a moment of struggling, he realizes that he knew the person holding him.

“F-Fred?” Hiro gasps, looking up at the older man.

“Yeah, Hiro--it’s me,” Fred answers, a look of relief in his eyes as he smiles down at Hiro.

“Y-You remember?” Hiro cries, glad that this was at least some sort of proof that he hadn’t gone completely crazy.

“Of course I do.” Fred hugs him tighter. “I-I’m so glad that you remember too, I was afraid that you might not--”

“No, I remember.” Hiro shakes his head before adding with a shiver, “A-And Yama does too...”

“Yama?” Fred repeats only to gasp after a moment. “Holy shit! I-Is that who you’ve been living with this whole time?” 

“I think the answer is obvious,” Hiro answers, pulling away and gesturing to his bloody nose.

“Oh my God.... Oh my God, Hiro I am so, so sorry,” Fred whispers, his voice full of horror. “I can’t believe-- I-I should have gotten you out of there a long, long time ago, but the curse...”

“Curse?” Hiro repeats in confusion. “What curse?”

“Apparently that’s what’s gotten us all here--a curse that took us from home and put us here, and gave us fake memories and made sure that we’d all be as miserable as possible. And it’s not just people from San Fransokyo, you won’t even believe who some of the people living in this town really are...” Fred answers before adding quickly, “But I can explain more on the way--all of our family and friends are back at my house, apparently my mom and Gogo’s parents have something to do with all of us getting wrapped up in this.”

“So everyone’s there?” Hiro asks hopefully. “Aunt Cass, Wasabi, Honey Lemon?” He’d have asked about Gogo too but Fred had already mentioned her so he could only assume that she was.

“Yes, everyone--even Mochi, can you believe that he’s actually Max?” Fred laughs. 

“Whoa... That is pretty crazy,” Hiro says, shaking his head, trying to wrap his head around the idea that Aunt Cass’ cat had somehow become a human child.

It was as he was thinking this over that another thought occurred to him. 

“Wait, Max...” he says slowly, and then gasps as the realization fully hits him. “Holy fuck, Baymax!”

“Hiro, I-I’m sorry, I don’t know where Baymax is yet, everyone coming out of the curse has everyone pretty scrambled up...” Fred starts to say apologetically, but Hiro cuts him off. 

“No! I mean, I think I know where Baymax is!” Hiro cries, tugging on Fred’s hand. “C’mon, we have to go get him!” 

“...The others can wait,” Fred after agrees after only a moment’s hesitation. “Let’s go get Baymax!”

A few minutes later, both of them rush into the hospital--things were in such a disarray that they didn’t even bother to stop at the nurse’s desk, Hiro leading the way up the stairs to the burn unit where he hoped that he’d find...

“Baymax!” Hiro lets out a huge sigh of relief when he sees the man in his standard white scrubs--it was still incredibly weird to think of the marshmallow-esque robot that Tadashi had made was somehow human, but all that really mattered that he was here and that he was safe. 

“Hiro!” The man turns to Hiro, a bright smile on his face, quickly putting to rest any fears that Hiro might have had that this wasn’t actually Baymax.

“Wait, that’s Baymax?” Fred cries in surprise.

“Fred, hello!” Baymax answers cheerfully, waving to him. 

“I... Uh... Hi?” Fred waves a bit awkwardly.

“I’m so glad that you’re okay,” Hiro says gratefully, hurrying into Baymax’s open arms and giving him a tight hug. 

“I am very well, thank you,” Baymax answers, hugging him back, before letting him go and continuing, “There is someone else here who would like to see you!”

“Someone else?” Hiro repeats in confusion. Who else could be here that he knew?

“Hiro!” 

That’s when Hiro hears a voice--a voice that, even before the curse, he’d given up on ever hearing again. No. No, it couldn’t possibly be--!

That’s when he sees Shiro, sitting in a wheelchair next to his hospital bed--the burn scars had greatly changed his appearance, it was true, and his hair was a bit longer than it had been before. But there was no mistaking those eyes, or that smile. 

“T-Tadashi?” Hiro whispers, tears welling up in his eyes before he could even fully process what was happening. “I-Is it really you?”

“It’s me,” Tadashi answers, looking a bit teary eyed himself, and, without even thinking about the consequences, Hiro launches himself at Tadashi, landing in his lap and wrapping his arms tightly around him, never wanting to let him go, only to find his hands wandering over Tadashi’s features--his arms, his hands, his face--trying to prove to himself that this was real, that Tadashi was really here with him. Tadashi was doing much the same, half laughing, half crying, stroking Hiro’s hair and kissing away the tears as they fell down his cheeks. 

“H-How?” Hiro whispers. “How are you here? “

“I don’t know,” Tadashi admits, shaking his head.”I-I don’t remember anything that happened to me after the fire... But I’m here, and I’m with you, and that’s all that matters.”

Hiro decides that questions can wait for later--all that mattered was that he had Tadashi back. 

“D-Dashi?”

Hiro suddenly remembers that he wasn’t the only one here who had a very good reason to be glad that Tadashi was alive.

“Fred?” Tadashi cries, looking up at Fred with what could only be described as joy in his eyes, and Hiro wisely chooses to move out of the way just in time to avoid being caught in the middle as Fred pulls Tadashi into a deep, passionate kiss. Maybe back in San Fransokyo his old self would have found this gross or made a joke out of it. But not anymore. This was something he’d been trying to get to happen for months, and it felt like his dream was finally coming true. Shiro and George--no, Fred and Tadashi!--were finally a couple, and maybe with this stupid curse gone, they could get married and adopt him so he could finally be away from Yama!

But wait. No, that wasn’t right! Hiro shakes his head. That was Niko’s dream, when he was stuck here, not Hiro’s dream! Hiro never would have dreamed of his older brother and his brother’s best friend getting married and adopting him! ...Would he have? More to the point, though: if a curse had somehow sent them here (and he couldn’t think of a more logical explanation at the moment), and it had indeed been broken--shouldn’t they be back in San Fransokyo? Shouldn’t they have gone back home?

Hiro feels a cold shiver pass through him. What exactly was going on here? And who would have the answers? 

“I have heard that there is a relief center being set up for those who are trying to find loved ones or who have questions about the curse,” Baymax pipes up, in the uncanny way that he had of almost reading Hiro’s thoughts. 

“Well, that sounds exactly like that place we should go,” Tadashi says, turning towards them, with Fred’s hand firmly wrapped around his own. 

“It does--maybe then we can bring some more information back to the others,” Fred agrees.

“Dashi, is it okay for you to leave the hospital, though?” Hiro asks a bit worriedly--he knew that Tadashi had been recovering, but he hadn’t left the hospital since being here!

“I can come with to monitor his condition,” Baymax offers.

“That would be great, thank you, Baymax.” Tadashi grins up at the other man.

“You are welcome!” Baymax replies, looking pleased to be of assistance. 

“Well... If Baymax is coming with us, then I guess it should be okay,” Hiro finally relents. 

“So, are we ready to go?” Tadashi asks, looking first to Fred and then to Hiro.

“Yeah,” Hiro agrees, taking Tadashi’s free hand as Fred continues to hold the other and Baymax begins pushing the chair forward. “I think we are.”

As long as he had his family and friends by his side, he was ready for whatever the future had in store for them.

((Random future story bit: The group running into Yama and Baymax giving him a good punch in the nose since Tadashi can’t stand to do it himself. “I no longer have programming, so I am no longer prevented from injuring a human being :)” (Protective Baymax is SCARY AF and also totally awesome!)))

[idesignedthefjords]

RSS fic: He thought it said ‘Satan’

A Rumbelle Secret Santa gift for @spottytonguedog! She prompted “He thought it said Satan”.  The inspiration for this fic came from this meme but don’t click until you’ve read the story!

Thank you @rumbellesecretsanta team for being my beta :) I was freaking out.

Summary: Belle tells Baelfire stories about her land and her Christmas customs. She tells the story of Santa Claus, and how children from her land send him letters and wish lists by placing them near the fireplace with some milk and mince pies.

Rumple finds the letter and chaos ensues. 

Dark Castle AU where Baelfire lives with Belle and Rumpelstiltskin in the Dark Castle.

AO3 link

Belle had been at the Dark Castle for several months now. It took her awhile to get used to Rumpelstiltskin and his young son Baelfire, and they had to get used to her too. Belle didn’t seem afraid of The Dark One, and she certainly wasn’t afraid of Baelfire. The boy was just as lonely as his father, since there were no other children in the castle, and the children from the surrounding villages didn’t want to play with him; too afraid to be turned into snails.

But now that Belle was settled, Baelfire seemed to be much happier. They often went exploring the castle and the surrounding gardens, and when Rumple gave her a library she would read stories to him after dinner or tell the stories of her childhood. They were the same ones her mom told her.

 -------------------------------------------

The castle being in the mountains meant it got cold fast. The curtains Belle pulled from the windows were back in their place. This time Rumpelstiltskin put them back on, not wanting Belle to put herself in danger again, and risking him not being near to catch her.

“It would be a bad investment if I lost my maid already!” he teased.

“Just admit that you like me and you care about me,” Belle replied.

Before Rumpelstiltskin could reply, Baelfire barged in and interrupted them. “Papa it’s snowing outside! Can we go outside and play?”

“I still have to make some potions Bae, but you can ask Belle to go with you,” Rumpelstiltskin replied.

Once Belle and Baelfire were dressed for the cold weather, and outside the castle grounds, Baelfire started building a snowman. Belle fed the few birds who dared to fly high in the mountains some birdseed. When the snowman was finished, Belle offered Baelfire her scarf to put around its neck.

“It’s getting dark Bae, let’s get inside to warm up before I start dinner.” Belle suggested after making sure the scarf was tied properly.

“Oh please Belle, can we stay for a bit longer? Do you want to have a snow fight?” Baelfire pleaded.

“Well, seeing as I just gave up my scarf for your snowman, I think I’ll pass,” Belle replied. But when she saw Baelfire's face drop she added: “But we can make snow angels? It’s something we used to do in Avonlea. Did you ever make one? It’s really easy! Just lay down on the snow, with your arms and legs stretched.” 

Baelfire immediately dropped down. 

“Ok and now what do I do?” he asked.

“Now you  wave your arms up and down and move your legs from side to side.” Belle explained. “Now stand up carefully and you can see the snow angel!”

“Wow this looks beautiful! What else did you do in Avonlea?” Baelfire asked, while making another snow angel.

“You know what, I will tell you once we get inside.” Belle shivered. “We did have some special celebrations during the Yule. I haven’t heard you talk about Santa Claus? He was very important during our celebrations. I can tell you all about him if you like?”

That sparked Baelfire's attention. The promise of another story from Belle, and especially from her lands made him jump up and run inside. Belle smiled, maybe if she could get Baelfire excited for Midwinter fest, she could have a bit of her old home in her new home in the castle.

 ---------------------------------

When Belle returned from the tower to check up on Rumpelstiltskin and give him his tea, she went back to the library where Baelfire was already waiting for her. “Come on Belle, tell me about Sandy Claws!”

“His name is Santa Claus”, Belle smiled. “He wears red robes and a hat, both lined with fur. He lives in a faraway land, and only visits us the night before Yule.. He leaves presents under the Yule tree. But he only visits children who have been good the previous year to leave them gifts.”

“How does he know if you have been good? And what kind of gifts does he bring?” Baelfire interrupted.

“Well, he has a magic book, and the names of the children who have been good show up in the book.” Belle explained.

“A magic book?” Baelfire looked apprehensive. “Papa says all magic comes at a price. What is the price of getting gifts from Santa Claus?”

Belle took a few moments to reply. “Children write him a nice letter and wish lists with the gifts they would like to receive. They leave their letter near the fireplace with some milk and mince pies. So the price will be the milk and mince pies, and you have to have been a good person during the whole year.”

Baelfire seemed to accept her answer. “Could I also write a letter? Or does Santa Claus only visits the children in Avonlea?”

“If you write him a nice letter and draw one of your lovely drawings, I am absolutely sure he will also visit you. I will make mince pies, and you can leave them tonight,” Belle suggested.

Baelfire jumped up. 

“I am going to make a drawing right now! And I already know what I want to ask for!” He ran towards the stairs, almost knocking his father over.

“Ouch! Watch out Bae! Some people are tired from working, you know. Not that our maid would know that… Are you done playing Belle? I am hungry and I don’t smell anything cooking. I heard something about pies?”

Belle stood up and headed towards the kitchen. “Yes Rumple, I will start making the meat pies for dinner.” If she made extra pastry she could use it for the mince pies. And hopefully her little plan would work and she would find out what gifts Baelfire wanted tonight so she could surprise him during Yule. She felt Baelfire needed to feel like a carefree child, if only for this one holiday.

--------------------------------------------

After dinner Rumpelstiltskin went back to his tower to work some more. Belle and Baelfire prepared the mince pies and milk for Santa Claus, and placed them on a table in front of the hearth.

“Did you get your letter and wish list? What did you ask Santa?” Belle asked Baelfire.

“I’ve got the letter, and I also drew a picture for Santa! But what I’m wishing for is a surprise. I’m sure you’d like it too, though,” Baelfire replied.

“Well, let’s get you off to bed then. We must give Santa some time to find it. He only comes when you’re sleeping.” 

Belle and Baelfire climbed the stairs to their bedrooms.

Rumpelstiltskin was just coming down from his tower when he passed them. “Belle, I was just looking for you! Could you please clean my workroom before I continue my work? It’s a mess.”

Belle sighed “Do I have  to do it now? I was just going to bed!”

“You can do it now, or you can do it in a few years when I turn you back from your frog-form. What do you prefer?” he teased.

Belle just shot him a look, and turned around to fetch her cleaning supplies. Baelfire’s wish list would have to wait. She had plenty of time to take a look at it before he woke up.

Rumpelstiltskin went to the main hall. He smelled something sweet. He followed his nose towards the fireplace. Milk and mince pies? What an odd combination. He then noticed the letter addressed to Satan. Did his maid write Satan to save herself from the Dark One? That strange girl and her love for dangerous beasts… But then he noticed Baelfire’s handwriting. Not being able to control himself, he opened the envelope addressed to Satan and started reading.

 -------------------------------------

“Well, I’m not really sure why you would come to me for a dog, but I’m flattered that your son drew me a picture. I never get anything nice….” The red, horned man spoke. “My  dog just had puppies a few weeks ago, you can have one?” 

The man grinned. “And we don’t have to make a deal.”

“No deal, as in free? Why? What’s wrong with it?” Rumpelstiltskin asked suspiciously. He didn’t like the idea of getting things for free. Nothing in life was free.

Satan just waved his hand. “Oh nothing is wrong with it… but I don’t need all these dogs. Just take one. Your son can send me a ‘thank you’ note with another drawing. How is that for a deal?”

Rumpelstiltskin thought about this. Baelfire really wanted this dog from Satan. He wanted it badly enough to try and send the letter through the fire in the fireplace, hoping it would get to Satan through the fires of hell. This puppy would make him happy, even though Rumpelstiltskin couldn’t understand why.

“Ok fine, I’ll take the dog, and I’ll let my son draw another picture for you. Do you also want the milk and mince pies?” Rumpelstiltskin asked.

“Hmmm no, the picture is fine” Satan looked confused. “Here’s the little green beast!”

“Green?!”  Rumpelstiltskin looked in shock at the little pup in his arms.

 ----------------------------

Back in the castle, Belle stared at the fireplace. The letter and drawing was gone, but the mince pies and milk were still there. Did Baelfire fall asleep before he could place them? Or could Santa Claus be real? No, that couldn’t be. Or could it? She stepped slowly towards the fireplace and carefully stretched her neck to see if she could find any evidence of a fat old man dressed in red coming through the chimney.

“You’re up early!” Belle yelped and jumped backwards from the fireplace .When she swirled around she saw Rumpelstiltskin standing behind her holding a blanket. “I don’t think cleaning the chimney would be useful during the winter months” he teased.

“Did you bring another baby?” Belle eyed the wriggling blanket Rumpelstiltskin was holding.

Before he could reply, they were interrupted by a sleepy Baelfire. 

“What’s wrong Belle? I heard you. Did you see Sa-“ he stopped in the middle of his sentence. “What are you holding there papa?”

Rumpelstiltskin swelled with pride “I have something for you Baelfire. Something I know you wanted more than anything!”

He walked towards his son and handed him the blanket. Baelfire slowly unwrapped it and gasped when a tongue suddenly made contact with his cheek. 

“A puppy!” he exclaimed. He now unwrapped the puppy with more urgency and held the little pup up. “Oh papa thank you! This is the best gift ever!”

Belle looked at the pup and back to Rumple. The puppy looked… odd. He had a green fur coat. She had never heard of a green dog. The puppy almost looked like… Rumple in dog-form. She didn’t understand where he got the dog from. But he must have been the one who found Baelfire’s wish list.

“Rumple, what kind of breed is this?” Belle asked.

“Don’t you worry about that dearie. This is none of your business after all-“ right at that moment the puppy started barking because Baelfire threw a stick into the corridor, trying to play fetch with his new pet. The barking wasn’t like a normal puppy bark. Belle suddenly felt like she had to run far away. A deep, primal fear instilling in her. She looked at Rumpelstiltskin and he looked as horrified as she did. His eyes wide open with fear.

“Rumple? You felt it too, right? What is that dog?” Belle was still trembling with fear.

“Like I said, nothing to worry about! Can you watch Bae for a moment? And give that dog something to eat!” Rumpelstiltskin replied before disappearing.

Back in his tower, Rumpelstiltskin took a few deep breaths. He knew something was up with that dog! Satan wouldn’t have given him a normal dog for free. He took some of his books on mythical animals from his shelves and frantically searched what kind of animal this was. He wasn’t quite sure if Baelfire was safe, but he didn’t seem to be affected by the dog’s barking.

After an hour or so, he finally found what he was looking for! A greenish dog whose bark instilled fear in the people who were unfortunate enough to hear it. This wasn’t a normal dog, it was a cú sidhe! Of course Satan needed a dog like this… He continued reading:

The cú sidhe is a harbinger of death and takes the soul of a person to the afterlife. The cú sidhe is capable of hunting silently, but he can let out three terrifying barks. Those who hear the barking of the cú sidhe must reach safety by the third bark or be overcome with terror to the point of death.

They were lucky this one was just a puppy! He could scare them all to death by the time it was full-grown! Him being the Dark One would have been dragged to hell by his own pet. The dog couldn’t stay. He had to bring this bad news to his son and disappoint him. Again. Why did he even ask for a dog? Who put this idea in his head? He knew who did this, that girl with her stories!

 ----------------------------------------------

 Rumpelstiltskin slammed the book on the kitchen table. 

“This is all your fault! You and your silly stories! And look where it got us! A demon dog who terrifies people to death?!” Rumpelstiltskin exploded. “You are endangering Bae. We are lucky it’s still a puppy, but what if that thing grows older and is capable of scaring Bae to death with his bark?” 

Belle looked at him with tears in her eyes. He thought she was going to cry, and he felt conflicted about that. He didn’t want to see her upset, let alone being the reason she was upset, but another part of him was angry with her for putting Baelfire in danger. His son was the most important person in his life. But Belle was… not un-important.

Belle took a shaky breath and Rumpelstiltskin prepared himself for her tears. 

But then she spoke as calmly as she could, “Rumple, I didn’t want to put Bae in danger. I merely told him the story about Santa, and how the children in Avonlea would write him and asked him to grant them their wish. It was a story! I was planning on sneaking back down to get the wish list so I could get him the perfect gift for Christmas. You are the one who got him the demon dog, not me! So don’t you dare blame me for this!”

Rumpelstiltskin was fuming at this point, although he wasn’t sure if he was mad at Belle or mad at himself. “You are the one who planted the idea of Satan giving out gifts in his head so yes this is still you fault! Either way, the dog has to go!”

“What? No papa I love him!” Baelfire had just walked into the kitchen, with an excited demon puppy right behind him. “You can’t throw him out!”

“Bae, please… he is dangerous. It’s not a normal dog. He is a demon dog, he is a monster and he could kill you…” Rumpelstiltskin pleaded with Baelfire.

“What do you mean papa? He isn’t a monster. Santa wouldn’t give children demon dog’s.. right Belle? Tell papa about Santa!” Baelfire exclaimed.

Belle sighed “Baelfire, Santa wouldn’t give you a demon dog. But Santa Claus didn’t give you this dog. Your father found your letter and he thought it said ‘Satan’ instead of ‘Santa’. So he went to Satan with the letter, and Satan…”

“Would give me a demon dog..” Baelfire finished her sentence for her. He went quiet and looked at his puppy. The pup didn’t realize there was something wrong and was licking Baelfire’s hand.

“Bae...” Rumpelstiltskin started in a desperate attempt.

“No papa. I won’t give up my dog. He is not a monster. I still love him. He doesn’t want to kill me.” 

Balefire looked at his father with watery eyes. “I think he is just misunderstood. Yes, he doesn’t look like a normal dog, and maybe he does have magic that can be used for evil. But I love him!”

Belle smiled. The similarity between the puppy and Rumple didn’t escape her.

“I agree with Bae. The puppy is just misunderstood. There is good in him, even though he is different from other pups. We can show him that he doesn’t have to use his magic for evil. Maybe he can use his magic for good? He can become our guard dog. Scaring away unwanted visitors like the Evil Queen?” Belle suggested. “Besides, I kind of like the green coat. “

Rumpelstiltskin sighed. He realised he was going to lose this battle. “Ok fine. The little beast can stay. But I am going to put a protection spell on us so we will be unaffected by his bark.”

“Oh thank you papa!” Baelfire ran up to his father and gave him a hug.  He then turned to Belle and gave her a hug as well. “And thank you for convincing papa to let me keep him”.

Rumpelstiltskin muttered “She didn’t convince me. I am master here, I won’t let a maid tell me what to do…. Especially when it comes to beasts like that.” But Baelfire was already preoccupied with scratching the dog behind his ear.

Belle laughed and brushed by him on her way out of the kitchen. “I think the little beast is all bark and no bite. Just like someone else with a beautiful green skin.” 

She left a stunned Rumpelstiltskin behind.

[kattahj]

Thoughts on The Last Wish (the first Witcher book)

Fair warning: this is decidedly mixed and with plenty of show-book comparisons that aren't always in the book's favour (though sometimes they are).

I wasn't at all sure that I wanted to read the Witcher books. I may love the TV show, but the question "Would I like to read a version of this written by a dude in the 80s and 90s, with less focus on the female characters, and the kind of fanboys who throw a hissy fit when black people appear on screen?" was answered with "well, maybe". Especially when I started The Last Wish and got anonymous boobs (in the faaaaace) on page 1.

But I kept reading and I kind of enjoyed myself.

See, I'm a sucker for twisted fairy tales, and a large portion of this book consists of such twisted fairy tales. We get full chapters for Snow White, Beauty and the Beast, and Hans-My-Hedgehog, as well as nods to Cinderella, Rumpelstiltskin, Rapunzel, The Billy Goats Gruff, and probably more stuff that I've forgotten.

And yeah, it's action-heavy to the point of stupidity, and there's a lot of casual misogyny, but it's still fun. Even if it's fun I sometimes hate myself for having.

Take the Beauty and the Beast chapter as an example. On one hand, the Beast is cursed while he rapes a priestess, and his true love is a homicidal vampire who has to die (graphically, with a stake between her breasts) for him to turn back. On the other hand, there's a lot of fun anecdotes about how merchants send their daughters to the Beast's castle as a way for them to earn some money before they marry someone else, and it's also fun to read about what a loser Beast is. But I do think there's a reason this one was the only adventure not to make it into the TV show (yet).

And Renfri may be an uncomfortable mix of murderer, victim, and fuck buddy, but I can't help it, I still enjoy reading about a Snow White who curses every other sentence and shacks upp with robbers. (I'm really sad Marilka isn't in the book, though. I liked that cheerfully psychopathic little girl.)

It's interesting that the circumstances around their battle are different from the show. Stregobor has locked himself away, and through stuff people tell Geralt about Renfri's gang, he realizes that she means to capture people at the market and give Stregobor an ultimatum: come down to be killed, or she'll murder the civilians one by one until he does. So Geralt kills off her entire gang to protect the town, and then Renfri returns, saying that Stregobor just laughed at her and wouldn't come down. The two of them fight, and as she dies she tries to trick him into holding her so she can kill him. So, yeah, book Renfri is a piece of work and Geralt's moral dilemma is a little bit lighter on him.

In general, the tone is a lot more outright humourous than in the TV show. There are still serious moments, but they're fewer and further between. It's also a lot chattier. There is a LOT of dialogue - Geralt is more talkative, and so is everyone else. It works fine for written text, but so much of it is exposition or random jokes that I understand why they'd cut it for the screen.

The stories are more expanded upon than they are on screen, which of course in many cases lead to much needed and appreciated context. In others, I quite like the changes made for TV. The situation with the elves, for instance, originally depend on a rather Deus ex machina type of solution - I prefer the way the TV elves and Geralt talked things out. (Even though I thoroughly enjoyed the way the book has the Sylvan and Jaskier playing music together afterwards. That was cute.) But then, the scene in the show is more hopeful that there can be a way for the elves to survive and both species to coexist. In the book, it's more, "Yup, you're all going to die, and that sucks, but humans are racist fucks and there's nothing to be done about that."

The stories are still told non-chronologically, though the system of doing so is a bit easier than what the show does - there are standalone adventures and then a frame story inbetween of Geralt recuperating at the temple, with each adventure tying into some aspect of his stay there. I quite like these slower parts, they're much needed between all the monster fighting. But as I understand it, the first four adventures were originally published in magazines, and the frame story and final two adventures were added later. I do think it shows, as the mood is different, and the last two adventures also more tied into Geralt's background and relationships than the others.

It does get a bit weird that Geralt's relationship with Yennefer, and her desire to have a child, are detailed at length through dialogue with the priestess Nenneke before we even meet Yennefer in the final chapter, but I guess this is an effect of how the stories were published. This part of the book was published after Sword of Destiny, and I'm assuming we get more of Yennefer there, and that most of the readers would already have encountered her by the time we get this. Nevertheless, when read like this, it's clunky.

OTOH, there actually isn't an orgy going on when Geralt meets Yennefer, so I'm not sure why the show added that. In the book there are only erotic statues, and a very naked, very seductive Yennefer. I still got a bit of a "yikes" vibe from the scene, though, especially since it's the first introduction in person to her (after the exposition), while in the show we've already known her for several episodes at that point. And then we get a bit about how as a sorcerer she can be attractive but never truly beautiful, because sorcerers are ugly women who are made pretty by magic and thus she has "an ugly woman's evil and cold eyes". Double yikes.

Interestingly, where show Yennefer hates that Geralt has tied their destinies together, book Yennefer is totally charmed by it.

Jaskier is even dimmer than he is in the show and not half as endearing. His second wish to the djinn is another "yikes" moment. In the show he wishes for his lover to return to him "with open arms, a cheerful heart, and very little clothing", which is already a bit iffy, but in the book he wishes that a countess who rejects every man will let him fuck her, which is... oy. But that's par for the course for these stories, unfortunately. :-(

I do enjoy the gentle ribbing Jaskier and Geralt have going on. Their relationship feels a lot more mutual. I hope to see more of that in season 2.

I also hope to see Nenneke, who is a matronly priestess from the frame story who treats Geralt with a combination of contempt, tenderness, and medical care. 

I don't know what could be made of Iola, who is, as it later turns out, the owner of the anonymous pair of breasts on page 1. She's a younger priestess who has given a vow of silence, which means she gets to fuck Geralt and listen to his tales without ever interrupting by telling him anything about herself, or indeed having any sort of personality. I honestly don't know if that character could ever be made palatable, but I kind of half want to see them try.

And yeah, it IS pretty noticeable that the three female characters in the book who are most unambiguously good (Iola, Lille, Pavetta) have next to no dialogue.

The Swedish translation mostly works well. Sometimes there's dialect and/or archaic language, usually for humorous effect, not enough of it to be irritating. (And I'm guessing that's in the original as well.) Jaskier is called Riddarsporre (Larkspur) in translation, which I'm sort of fine with. It's certainly better than them ignoring diacriticals and thus calling the horse Plotka, which means rumour - the original name is Płotka, which as we all know means Roach. Different words! (Translated to Swedish, Płotka would be Mört, which isn't a GREAT name, admittedly.)

I can kind of see why these stories, testosterone-laden as they are, would have a bunch of annoying fanboys. At the same time I find their "but people CAN'T be black, it's SLAVIC FOLKLORE!" whining even more annoying now. Grimm Brothers aren't Slavic folklore, and without black people we wouldn't have my favourite Cinderella film (dude, the conniptions they'd have over the genetic mix in THAT royal family). Furthermore, Skellige in this version is ridiculously Irish. Like, so Irish I'm surprised it's not populated by leprechauns. Though they also have bagpipes, so maybe Gaelic is a better term. The Elvish language seems to be a mix of Romanic, Germanic and Gaelic languages. (Their name for themselves, Aen Seidhe, is of course related to the Irish aes sidhe, and the Sylvan is Roman.) And of course djinni and ifriti are Middle Eastern (though Aladdin is set in China in some versions). So it's pretty much "put all myths and fairytales in a pot and stir." And that’s fine, but you don’t get to be all “MINE! NO ONE CAN HAS!” about it.

To be fair, I can also see why people who AREN'T annoying assholes would be fans of these books. Especially if they can compartmentalize the sexism, alternatively lived in the 80s when even children's shows had lots of bikini babe extras. There's a lot of rather rowdy fun to be had, and some tenderness.

And yes, I have ordered the second book from the library. (Ebook sadly only available in Finnish. So if you live in Sweden and speak Finnish, you're in luck!)

[lady-divine-writes]

After 6000 Years, This Is Where We Begin (Rated PG)

(Some after wedding bliss, featuring my personal head canon that they get married at the Globe Theater and featuring the Queen song ‘You Take My Breath Away’)

You can reduce me to tears With a single sigh Please don’t cry anymore Every breath that you take Any sound that you make Is a whisper in my ear I could give up all my life for just one kiss I would surely die If you dismiss me from your love You take my breath away

Aziraphale smiles when Crowley holds him tighter, singing to himself at the start of the next verse.

So please don't go Don't leave me here all by myself I get ever so lonely from time to time

Crowley seems so calm, so at peace, so far removed from the demon Aziraphale knows, the one that feels every emotion that passes through his body so completely it tends to overwhelm him.

Here, beneath an indigo sky filled with stars, he’s finally found his bliss.

Aziraphale regrets interrupting it, but in a few short hours, it’ll be sunrise.

“Crowley, my dear?”

“Hmm-mmm?” Crowley mutters to the tune of the music.

“Everyone’s gone home. Hours ago, as a matter of fact.”

“So they have,” he replies, not lifting an eyelid to check.

“And the managers are going to want their theater back.”

“Probably.” Crowley rests his head further into the crook of Aziraphale’s neck, his breath ghosting his skin.

“Maybe we should leave, too? Get along home and put ourselves to bed?”

“No,” Crowley says without pause.

“Crowley!” Aziraphale chuckles.

“Aziraphale!” Crowley mimics. “How often do we get to dance like this, hmm? Alone underneath the stars?”

“We’ll find the time. I promise. It’ll be easier now. Besides, we’re not exactly alone.” Aziraphale catches sight of what’s left of the staff (the losers of a ‘straw draw’ Aziraphale saw them at earlier) seated at a table off to the corner playing cards while they wait for the happy couple to leave. The more understanding of the lot either ignore them or smile as they waltz by. One or two throw them glares of pure venom. “We’ll be living in your flat. There’s plenty of room to dance there. And we can miracle up some stars. If I recall correctly, you used to be pretty good at that sort of thing.”

Aziraphale feels Crowley’s steps slow, feels him frown against his neck, exhaling so deeply he flattens against Aziraphale’s body. Holy God above, does he wish he’d kept his mouth shut! Of all the things to bring up, and on this day in particular! It’d been perfect up till now!

Crowley was right. For a clever angel, he really could be quite stupid.

Aziraphale holds his breath, waiting for his demon to react – for him to pull away with a monotone, “Okay, then. Let’s run along home,” and lead him off to his Bentley, hands shoved in the pockets of his tuxedo trousers.

But he doesn’t.

He threads the fingers of his right hand with his angel’s left, his pinkie searching for, and finding, the band on Aziraphale’s ring finger. With a contented sounding exhale his smile returns, and in that moment, everything seems right with the world again.

“You’re the only miracle I need, angel. The only star in my sky.”

Aziraphale’s heart stutters – at the sentiment, its meaning, and the softness of his demon’s voice. “That’s rather romantic of you.”

“You sound surprised.”

“Maybe I am a little.”

“You don’t see me as a romantic?”

“I didn’t say that. It’s more that … you’re a romantic in actions, not so much words.”

“Well, then – in the spirit of active romance, I’ll make you a deal.”

“A deal?”

“Yup. I’m still a demon. Deals are what demons do.”

“All right. What’s the deal then?”

“Call me by my full name, angel, and I might consider going with you.”

“Your full name?” Aziraphale asks, confused.

“A-ha.”

“Who are you taking your cues from, then? Rumpelstiltskin?”

“Strike one.”

Aziraphale’s nose scrunches as he tries to determine what in the world Crowley is talking about. “Do you mean Anthony? Oh …” he groans “… you’re not still going on about that now, are you?”

“You’re just gonna have to try it and find out.”

“Oh, Lord.” Aziraphale shakes his head. “O-kay. Anthony Crowley, would you do me the honor of accompanying me home?”

Crowley snickers. “No. Because that’s not it, angel.”

Another soft groan from his angel has Crowley smirking.

“Anthony J Crowley?”

“Try again.”

Aziraphale racks his brain, trying to solve this riddle before sun up so that the tired group gathered in the corner can finally go home and get some rest. But when the answer occurs to him, thoughts of anyone but his husband siphon swiftly away. “Anthony J Crowley … Fell?”

Crowley smiles, and kisses his husband on the forehead. “That’s it.”

“I---I thought I would be going by Aziraphale Crowley now, if we decided to change our names at all.”

Crowley shrugs. “I think Crowley Fell makes more sense.”

“It sounds like a sentence,” Aziraphale says sadly. “One that’s a little too on the nose, as they say. I was afraid that it might bring back bad memories.”

“It does,” Crowley admits, “but I can’t keep running from my past. I mean, it’s been over 6000 years. I should start thinking about getting over it. Don’t you agree?”

“I would understand if you didn’t.”

“You know, Aziraphale, things didn’t end too badly for me after I fell.”

Aziraphale tilts his head questioningly. “How do you mean?”

“I got tossed out of Paradise in Heaven, but I found it again here on Earth. With you.”

Crowley looks down at his angel as Aziraphale looks up, their eyes meeting in between. Crowley stares at him long, lovingly even with those serpent eyes that seemed so inhuman to Aziraphale at first – a bright and blaring indicator his demonic magic couldn’t hide that he was who he was.

Evil.

They’re a warning for anyone who happens to see not to be fooled by his handsome exterior, as something truly wicked lies beneath.

But now, Aziraphale can’t imagine Crowley without them. It would be odd to see him with brown eyes. Or green. Aziraphale has tried to picture it before, unsuccessfully. The Crowley that Aziraphale knows – the one who has followed him through history, teased him, cajoled him, saved him, and then, finally, proclaimed his love for him, couldn’t look more lovely, more human, if he tried than he does in this moment. Aziraphale’s cheeks go pink beneath Crowley’s stare, but he can’t look away.

He doesn’t want to miss a thing about this moment.

“H-how long is all this romantic talk going to last, do you think?”

“Don’t know. But you should soak it up while you have the chance. Just in case.”

“I guess I should do. I do admit, I like how Crowley Fell sounds, but I like the idea of taking your name, too. Call me old fashioned, I guess.”

“We can always switch. We’ve switched bodies before, why not names?”

“True.”

The song ends and a new song begins. The tempo shifts, becomes upbeat, and Crowley spins Aziraphale quickly. He yelps at the change in speed, giggling with the giddy feeling of sailing the night air in the safety of his husband’s arms. When they return to the dance, however, he notices one young lady at the table has fallen asleep, head resting on her crossed arms. He knows she has children – 8, 6, and 3 – being watched by their dad while she works. He remembered overhearing something about the three-year-old being sick, and that the other two had to wake up early for school in the morning. If that’s her life, what about everyone else’s?

It tugs at his heart.

Plus, selfishly, he doesn’t want their wedding reception to be the thing these nine strangers curse come sunrise.

“Crowley?”

“Hmm?”

“The least we can do is help tidy up the place. That way, when we do leave these poor overworked and underpaid people to their tasks, they won’t have that to contend with.”

“Why? We paid for them to clean up. Not us.”

“Yes, and your silliness has caused them to miss their buses and trains.”

Crowley stops dancing. He looks at the staff layered at the table, two more in the process of putting their heads down for some shuteye, one nodding off sitting straight up, and rolls his eyes.

“Oh, all right then.”

Crowley snaps his fingers. The nine people at the table disappear without a sound. Aziraphale looks around in alarm.

“Wha---where did you send them?”

“I sent them home.”

“Whose home?” Aziraphale pictures them stuffed into some random one room flat, the first Crowley could think of, solely for the purpose of getting them out of the way.

“Their homes. They’re all fast asleep in their beds, dreaming about whatever they like best. As far as they’re concerned, they’ve been there since eleven. A reasonable time. Plus, they’ve each got themselves a hefty tip for the time we’ve wasted. I thought you’d like that.”

“I do.”

“Good. Now can we keep dancing?”

“And how long do you intend to keep dancing?” Aziraphale asks, though the answer no longer concerns him much seeing as the exhausted staff have been properly seen to.

“I don’t know. Till the stars fall out of the sky?”

“That sounds about right.” Aziraphale smiles, resting his head against his husband’s shoulder, melting back into the sway of slow dancing together, without a care in the world. “Of course, tours of the theater start at 9:30, so …”

“Shut it, angel.”

[intothewickedwood]

Once Upon A Time Rewatch: 2x14 Manhattan

Rumple taught Milah how to sow! Awww!

It’s so interesting that Milah didn’t want Rumple to fight in the ogre wars at first. If you ask me, that’s the sensible stance to take. I wonder what changed her mind. I guess it was what Rumple said about it.

Wow, Neal really doesn’t wanna be found.

Emma processing all that finding Neal in place of Baelfire implies xD.

I love that reveal! I think I remember calling it just before I initially watched the episode.

Woah, this looks really bad to Emma. It looks like Neal and Rumple set her up from the beginning.

What are the chances that 2 people from that world would find each other in the LWOM? There must be some sort of magic at play there.

Aww, Rumple treating his grandson to a hotdog is so cute!! And then he thanks Henry for bringing Emma to Storybrooke!! And Henry trying to reassure Mr. Gold is so sweet. My heart!!

Poor Emma. This must be really hard for her.  

I’m not sure I believe that everything that happens, happens by design. I just believe that we have what we have and then all hell breaks loose. But then and again who knows for certain. Maybe our past guides our future or something wild like that.

I think Emma should have told him about Henry. I understand why she didn’t; having him in her life was too painful.

Wow. She’s been wearing that keychain this whole time!

That girl is not a freaking beast! She’s a child for god’s sake!!

And they haven’t given her any water in days!! How cruel!! Wow, the people fighting in the ogre’s wars really don’t give a damn about children.

Omg, can that young actress see under that make up? Is this safe??

Rumples so excited to be a father!!

It seems the Seer’s prophecies come to past no matter what. The Seer is Raven Baxter’s ancestor?? Rumple is??  

It’s true. Henry has a right to know who is father is. I didn’t meet my father until I was 9 because my mother couldn’t bring herself to call him and my father didn’t actually do anything wrong?? But yeah, not knowing is the worst, at least, it is if you want to know.

Hmm. Where did Rumple get that ring from? Am I forgetting something?

Rumple: “The future is like a puzzle, with missing pieces. Difficult to read and never, never what you think.” I like the way Rumple’s foresight works. It gives him just enough of a heads up without giving him knowledge of absolutely everything that’s going to happen.

How does Regina know where the dagger should be?

How does David not know that you can have more than one grandfather??

The Seer knew the chain of events that would lead to Bae being fatherless. That’s so interesting.  

What’s the point in sending all those people out to fight the ogres when their methods are seemingly ineffective? And to think, even knowing this, they later go on to recruit children! Like, what’s the point??

Mr. Gold can be hella scary sometimes. What’s he threatening to do anyway, beat Emma??

Wait. That doesn’t make sense. The Seer said Milah was already pregnant and on that same night Rumple damaged his foot. But when he arrives at his old place, Milah is carrying a baby, so unless they waited a while to let Rumple go after his injury…Oh! Unless he had already been with the soldiers for around 9 months, I guess.

Milah seemed so happy when she told Rumple Bae’s name.

For goodness sake, who gives a damn about what other people say. Rumple left the battlefield because he didn’t want his son to grow up fatherless like he did. I will always stand by Rumple here. He just wanted to be a good, present father.

Why does Milah have to be so cruel here. I don’t dislike the woman but would she have rather become a single mother? Rumple was a dedicated, loving parent to Bae. Who wouldn’t want that for their child? I mean, I get that more went on, with him making a deal that prevented them from having another child (which I think was understandable, given the fact that their son would have died otherwise) and not allowing them to leave the village but I don’t understand her anger here.

Look at Rumple with his son. This is such an adorable scene!! He just wants to be a good Papa!

The flashback makes it even more heartbreaking for Rumple. He loves his son more than anything and goddamn it, I just want them to be a family again. I know a lot has happened but Rumple instantly regretted letting Bae go.

“Is this my son?” I just know, from that moment Bae is gonna be the best father he can be.

Hehe, Hook getting thrown around by Cora!

Imagine Cora as the dark one. Goodness help us all!!

Imagine if Bae decided to be 14 again. That would have been wild! But it’s also heartbreaking how much Rumple wants Bae to say yes to that. He’s lived hundreds of years regretting letting his son go. I mean, that is such a dedicated father. He cares so much and would sacrifice everything for his child.

Neal: “Every night, for more years than you could know, the last thing I see before sleep, is the image of you… You and me, over that pit. Your hand… Wrapped around mine. And then, you open your grip. And as I fall away, all I can see is your face. Choosing all…this…crap over me.” My soul just broke.

Seer: “It will not be an easy path. It will take many years… And require a curse. A curse…powerful enough to rip everyone from this land. You will not cast the curse… Someone else will. And you will not break the curse… Someone else will.” That explains so much.

Aww. Henry and Neal getting to know each other. And Henry’s smiling whilst talking to him.

Seer: “The future is a puzzle with many pieces to be sorted. In time, you will learn to separate what can be, from what will be….. You will be reunited with your son, and it will come in a most unexpected way…. A boy… A young boy will lead you to him. But beware, Rumpelstiltskin, for that boy is more than he appears. He will lead you…to what you seek. But there will be a price. The boy… Will be your undoing.” If Rumple knew this, then I wonder why he initially didn’t want Henry to come with them to NY. Maybe he didn’t want Henry to be the boy.

Also, was Henry Rumple’s undoing in the end? I don’t know if he was the first time he died (Maybe he was because the events that came after searching for Henry in Neverland led him to make that sacrifice). But in season 7, Henry wanted to save Ella and Lucy and Rumple ended up in the globe, which allowed him his bonding moment with Wish Hook, which could have led to his sacrifice but I suppose a better explanation is that Henry retrieved the Author’s pen, which led to Wish Rumple taking possession of it and using it to try to write personal hells for all of the characters, which then led to Rumple making his final sacrifice. So, I guess, in a way, Henry was his undoing.

Gold, don’t you dare hurt Henry!

[thejollyroger-writer]

Keep Hope Close at Hand - Chapter Four

Summary:  When a curse is going to send the inhabitants of Enchanted Forest, Captain Killian Jones, husband to the Princess, must take their daughter through the wardrobe to save them from the curse and give her the ability to break the curse when the time comes.

Tags: @shireness-says @wellhellotragic @flyflyangel @stahlop@superchocovian @kingofmyheart14 @drkeldonmd @darkcolinodonorgasm@profdanglaisstuff @pirateherokillian

Start at the Beginning: tumblr // AO3

Chapter One: tumblr // AO3

Chapter Two: tumblr // AO3

Chapter Three: tumblr // AO3

Also on AO3!

“Daddy, it’s beautiful!”

Hope has seen her fair share of ships in her twelve years of life; Killian made sure of it, taking her to museums and tours, the U. S. S. Constitution a normal location for them to spend a few hours at least once a month. But, looking at the Jolly Roger looming in front of her, you would think by the look on her face that she had never seen a ship before.

Though Killian is aware that the Jolly is perhaps more beautiful and pristine than many, thank you very much.

“She, darling,” he corrects.

“What?”

“Ships are referred to as she .”

“But why?”

Killian looks down at his daughter once more, resting his hand on her shoulder. “Because, my darling lass, women are the most important thing in the life of a man, just as ships are the most important thing to the life of a sea captain.” He leans down, trying his hardest to keep his balance, a skill that has lost its ease since the last time he was at sea, just so he can whisper in her ear, “Would you like to board her?”

Hope nods her head vigorously, and Killian is both amazed and unsurprised at her response. The Jolly should have been her home for the past twelve years. Her life started on that ship, both from conception and birth, and it is completely unfair to her that she has not been able to even know about the ship that meant so much to her own family. All Killian can do now is make up for lost time.

Once they have reached the Jolly with the rowboat, Killian tethers it to the side of the ship so they can climb up the ladder, allowing Hope to take her time and go first.

“Welcome home, my darling,” he says, taking her into his arms as they stand on the deck. “Would you like a tour!”

“Yes, please!”

Holding her on his hip as long as he can muster (his bones have apparently gotten old, too), he walks around the ship, taking his time to show her all the cabins, the crew’s quarters, the kitchen, before walking her around the deck, her hand clamped around his, showing her the pieces of the riggings, how to ready her to begin sailing with all of the ropes and the sails, before ending triumphantly at the helm.

Being behind the helm — his helm — finally, after so long, and able to have her on the open water instead of just tied to the docks in Misthaven as King David insisted, is somehow even a better feeling than Killian imagined it would have been. Including its time in Misthaven when Killian sailed under another flag and sailing the Jolly was “no longer needed,” in David’s words, it has been more than fifteen years since Killian was last able to sail her.

And, for a man who has been alive for more than three hundred years, those fifteen have seemed incredibly long.

He is back where he belongs, back where he was made to be, with his daughter standing beside him, her small hands looking even smaller when compared to the size of the helm. His life is almost complete.

All he needs now is his wife back.

They sail back to the dock in silence, Hope watching in awe when Killian turns the helm and the sails shift direction, and Killian watching lovingly as his daughter is finally able to appreciate one of the most important possessions in his life. When they reach the dock, Killian expects to find Smee outside of the office, having seen the Jolly come in, but no one is there.

Even as he sails to where Smee told him to dock his ship, the entire shore remains empty, completely devoid of movement — which Killian finds incredibly interesting, since there were people not only on the dock and the dockside when they took off, but also scattered across the beach. But as he climbs off the deck and tethers himself to the dock, everything around him is silent, still.

Curious.

Before they leave, Killian takes one of the envelopes from next to the office door, slips a handful of bills in it, enough to cover the first few weeks, and slides it under the door with his name scrawled across the front.

“What’s next, daddy?” Hope asks, taking his hand once more as they walk down the abandoned dock and back towards the town.

“Next is the pawn shop near Granny’s, I’m hoping they have something that I have been missing for quite a while.”

“How would they have something of yours? I thought you were never here before?”

Killian nods, realizing just how much more to this story there is than the pieces he told Hope just that morning. Pieces that he will have to continue to explain to her if he wants her to understand the plan he has formulated, even if it is just pieces of a plan.

“In the book Henry gave me to read, it says that the pawn shop is where things people lost in the curse all came to when the Evil Queen created this land, especially things that would help people here remember who they really are. You already heard Henry say that I was Captain Hook, but one of the things that I left with your mother when we went through the wardrobe was my hook for her to remember me by. But since everything related to the truth is hidden in that shop, I'm hoping that my hook will be there, as well.”

Hope is silent for a moment, and when Killian turns his head down to her, she is nodding.

“Okay, daddy,” she says. “If you say that's right, then I believe you.”

Gods , she really is too good for him.

What he doesn't expect to find when he walks through the door of the pawn shop, however, is his crocodile, the man he chased for decades in hopes of finally getting his revenge for taking Milah from him.

Though in this land, the name Rumpelstiltskin wouldn't do, so he goes instead by Mr. Gold, owner of the pawn shop that holds the lost and magical artifacts from the Enchanted Forest.

Seeing his face before him after so long — though, of course, it's a much different face than he remembers, far less scaly and reptilian and more… normal — makes Killian do a double take, and he is happy that Hope is slowly making her way around the shop, taking in everything that's available. Does Gold have his memories? The man who taught the Evil Queen how to do magic, the reason she was able to cast a spell in the first place, nonetheless a curse?

Swallowing his silence with a large gulp, he approaches the counter instead of following Hope around the room, hoping that Rumple has no idea that he's Rumple in the first place.

“Good afternoon,” Gold says, turning his face from Hope to Killian for the first time since they entered the shop. “How may I help you?”

By the tone of his voice, the lack of recognition on his face, Killian continues to assume the man's memories have also been erased, though Rumpelstiltskin was never a man that allowed himself to be read easily.

“I'm looking for something, and from what I've been able to learn, this is the place it seems most likely to have ended up.”

Gold nods, just as another man appears from the shop behind him — a man who seems familiar to Killian, though he is unable to place his face. It's not his biggest concern at the moment.

“Is that so?” Gold asks, maintaining his unresponsive look. “What is it that I can help you find?”

“Well, it's a hook —” he starts, but before he can say any more, Hope calls out from across the room:

“Daddy, Daddy, I think I found it!”

Killian turns towards his daughter's voice, then smiles across the counter at Mr. Gold and the man standing behind him before moving over to where she is standing.

He follows her point into the case in front of her, and she is correct. There, between a bracelet he knows he's seen on Ariel before and the hilt of a sword bearing the Camelot sigil, sits his hook. Turning back towards the counter, he points into the case in front of him.

“There it is!”

Gold turns to the man behind him, gesturing towards the case Killian is pointing into.

“Neal, my boy, will you assist this man?” he asks, then disappears into the back without another word, even before getting a response from Neal.

Neal.

Suddenly, the pieces lock together. Neal is married to Emma here because of the curse, but Neal is also Rumple’s son, which would make him…

Bae, who he hadn’t seen since he was a boy, though he must have returned to the Enchanted Forest at some point in order to be here now.

Trying to keep the surprise off his face, Killian simply turns his attention back towards the case, keeping his eye on the hook as Neal pulls it off the velvet underneath it and hands it to him.

“Will that be everything for you?”

Killian is about to say yes, especially knowing that everything here, like his hook, already belongs to someone else. But, out of sheer curiosity, he begins to look around the shop instead of just paying for his hook and leaving.

He follows Hope to a display of jewelry, smiling down at her when she turns her eyes up to him, but his smile disappears when he sees what she is reaching out to touch: a necklace with a small metal ship wheel hanging from it.

A necklace that he bought Emma on his last voyage as a pirate, before he offered her father to give up his title to marry her.

“And this necklace,” he says, nodding down at Hope as she begins to take it down off the display. “Yes, that will be everything.”

As he pulls his wallet out of his pocket, the bell over the door rings, and he turns around to find the one face he was surprised to have gone this long without encountering:

Regina. The Evil Queen.

Killian tries to play dumb, hoping that she, too, is cursed, but he knows she can’t be — it’s her curse, why would she curse her own memories?

Slowly, dramatically, she walks over to him until she is just a few inches from his face. “I’ve been searching for you,” she says quietly, the smile on her face showing that she is trying to seem civil, but he knows from experience that civil has never been something she has been good at. She turns to Gold, who has come back into the shop. “Would I be able to borrow your office for a few minutes while I have a chat with our newcomer?”

“Of course, Mayor Mills,” Gold agrees, gesturing back towards the office, and Killian follows Regina there, his hand wrapped tightly around Hope’s, but Regina turns around to stop them when she realizes this.

“You can leave your daughter out here. This will only take a few moments.”

Hope looks up at him, her bright eyes suddenly full of terror, not even sure why she is afraid, but Killian’s eyes narrow, never leaving Regina’s.

“No,” he says firmly, shaking his head.  “No, whatever you have to say to me, you can say it to my daughter, as well. I’m not going anywhere without her.”

It’s a challenge, more of one than Killian was intending, but Regina just frowns, then after a moment, she nods and turns back around.

Only then does Killian turn down to Hope and smile at her, adding a quick wink before following Regina into the back of the pawn shop.

[lilacmoon83]

Dreaming Out Loud

Also on Fanfiction.net and A03

Dreaming Out Loud

Chapter 48: Smoke and Mirrors

The first thing Belle noticed upon waking was the smell of soot and when she opened her bleary eyes, she found her surroundings to be shrouded in darkness. And she was not alone. She heard voices, male from the sound of them and she lifted her head. Around her were walls made of rock and she looked down to find herself in some kind of mining cart. The mines...that's where she was. Then the memories all came crashing back to her. The portly man in the red cap had come after her and despite fighting her way to escape, he had put something over her mouth. The smell of the substance on the cloth had rendered her unconscious. But her mind still swirled with questions as to why. She had never seen this man before and had no idea why he might want to kidnap her.

Most in this town knew Rumple well enough to know that doing something like this to someone he cared about was as good as a death sentence, never mind that she would never approve of killing under any circumstance. But when she heard her name, things started to become horrifyingly clearer. Especially when she realized her wrists were handcuffed to the inside of the cart

"Belle…" Moe uttered, as he noticed she had awakened.

"Father...what's going on?" she demanded to know.

"Relax Belle...I promise you'll understand soon enough. This is for the best," he said. She looked at him with confusion written on her face.

"For the best? What does that mean?" she asked again in a demanding tone.

"That monster will ruin you. You will be better off forgetting him again...you were going to leave him behind before and it would have been the best thing for you," Moe explained. She stared at him in disbelief.

"You don't get to decide what is best for me! This is wrong, father! Let me go!" she pleaded.

"I'm sorry Belle," he apologized, but she didn't believe he meant it.

Cora looked around Regina's home with an impressed air about her.

"A lovely home...you've done well for yourself, dear," Cora mentioned and Regina found herself resisting the urge to preen under her mother's scarce compliments.

"Thank you, Mother. It is this world's version of a castle," she replied.

"Yes...now our real work begins. Persephone and her precious daughter must pay," Cora added. Regina frowned.

"How long have you know that Snow is Persephone's daughter?" Regina asked with scrutiny.

"For many years now...I'm actually the one that told Leopold that his fair little retch wasn't actually his," Cora responded. Regina's eyes widened.

"Leopold knew?" she exclaimed, as she clenched her teeth.

"Of course dear. I wanted him to know exactly who the daughter he doted upon really was and where she came from. I wanted him to realize that the pride he had in thinking she was his little girl was untrue; that his heir was illegitimate. My only regret is not being able to tell Queen Eva the same," Cora responded.

Regina was stunned. Were she and Snow the only ones that didn't know about her true heritage? For she knew if her mother and Leopold knew that Rumpelstiltskin certainly knew, probably from the time Snow was born, knowing the imp. It didn't matter though. It didn't change the fact that Snow still needed to pay. She and her perfect little family had taken Henry away from her and turned him against her. And that would not stand. But it had to be done carefully.

"Mother...we must be cautious on how we deal with the Charmings. Not only is Persephone powerful, but Henry will hate me forever if I kill his family," she mentioned.

"I've been waiting a long time to deal with the woman that cursed us with that wretched girl,"

Cora cooed.

"And Emma and her parents. We can't just kill them," Regina reminded..

"Yes, we can," Cora stated. Regina's face fell.

"Don't worry, dear. Henry will be made to understand that what we're doing is for his own good," she added. A cold chill slithered down Regina's spine at those words. Her mother had killed Daniel for her own good. She had accepted Leopold's proposal for her own good and put her on the Throne for her own good. And somewhere, deep inside Regina, the need to protect Henry from her mother bloomed. But turning against her would spell only her own doom and the need to still make Snow and her perfect little family pay was still very present. There was a war inside her, a war she had not felt since before she had descended down the path from young Queen Regina to the Evil Queen. She clenched her fists and her anger at Snow threatened to boil over. It was so much easier to hate her step-daughter and blame everything on her. Yes, if Snow was gone, then her problems would be solved. But deep down, she knew that wasn't true.

Maleficent had warned her about casting the curse and the emptiness it would leave inside her. And it had...it was an emptiness that not even Henry had completely filled. She thought he had, but that was when the curse was keeping everything and everyone in order. But now...it was all gone and again, because of true love's kiss. She was sure other villains were somewhere laughing at her being defeated now twice by something such as a kiss.

With Persephone protecting the Charmings though and David's weird pseudo friendship with Gold, there was no way she could take all of them on without her Mother's help. Could her Mother really be the lesser of two evils?

"Mother, we must handle Snow's demise delicately. It's very important. Her husband has developed somewhat of an unlikely friendship with Rumpelstiltskin," she informed. Cora seemed to ponder this for a moment.

"Perhaps, but I have something he wants and I assure you that he won't bat an eye at tossing his friendship with some pauper turned prince when he sees what I have," Cora promised. Regina swallowed thickly.

"Then what do you plan to do to Snow?" she asked. Cora smirked.

"Let's just say that I happen to know that the plant I used to have in Eva's court is somewhere here in Storybrooke and I believe it's about time that she come back to work for me. She failed to help me undermine Snow White when she was a girl, but this time, she'll help us see to a very tragic demise for her," Cora stated in a pleased tone.

Red led them through town, tracking Belle's scent from the article of clothing provided. David's phone buzzed insistently again and he finally answered it.

"What is it, Leroy?" he asked.

"It's the Queen...she's gone," he reported. Snow watched her husband's expression go from concern for the task ahead of them to hard edged and rigid.

"Check the cameras," he ordered.

"Yeah...those are gone," he reported. David clenched his teeth.

"Dammit...we'll be there as soon as we can," he responded, as he hung up.

"Regina is gone," he growled, as he balled his fist.

"What?!" Emma cried.

"The cameras are gone too…" he added.

"Gone?" Snow asked.

"Like magic," he answered bitterly.

"I'll go to the station and assess the situation while you all keep looking for Belle. Obviously, Regina found a way through my magic and I'll need to see the cell to determine how," Persephone said. Snow nodded, as her mother squeezed her hand and then disappeared in a puff of lavender smoke.

"You should have let me take care of her from the beginning and this wouldn't be a problem," Gold growled.

"This isn't the time to play the blame game...and killing her is still wrong," Emma countered, as they stopped near the Game of Thorns flower shop.

"Red?" Snow asked.

"The scent...it's muddled now. It's the flowers…" she said, as she struggled to keep the scent. David looked to Gold and saw he was seething with barely contained rage. He stepped into the shop and found it empty.

"You think he's behind this?" David asked.

"Oh, I know he is, dearie. Suspend your thinking that a father would never abduct his own child. Sir Maurice is not you," Gold replied.

"What the hell does he get out of kidnapping his own daughter?" Emma wondered.

"To keep her from me," Gold responded, like it was obvious.

"Yeah...but keeping someone under lock and key isn't as easy as it sounds. He knows we were gonna check his shop and his home. If I had to guess, they're not there either. So where would he keep her?" Emma reasoned. Just as she said that, Snow noticed something on the ground and knelt down.

"What is it?" David asked.

"I think it's part of a footprint. Whoever's shoe it was is really dirty," she mentioned, as they looked at the substance on her fingers.

"That's soot...I know where he took her," David said, as they hurried off after him.

Persephone rushed into the station, where Leroy and Happy were in the process of locking Keith up.

"Well...hello doll face," he leered. She glared at him.

"Call me doll face again and I assure you it's the last thing you'll ever be able to say," she snapped, as she waved a hand over the lock on the other cell where Regina had been.

"What are you doing?" Happy asked curiously.

"Trying to figure out what magic was used. The spell I used isn't easily nullified," she explained.

"Ain't it obvious, sister? Regina got out and then blasted the cameras," Leroy retorted.

"No...she didn't. All magic leaves a signature and this is not Regina's," Persephone replied.

"Then who would have freed her?" Happy asked. Persephone swallowed thickly. Thankfully, she knew it wasn't Hades. She'd know his mark anywhere, but the sinking feeling in her didn't disappear. She didn't know her signature, but instinctively she knew it had to be Cora. She was the only one that would have the magic to free Regina. She almost felt faint at that. They had expected her to eventually find a way to this land, but they had not expected it to be so soon.

"I have to go," she said, as she disappeared and then reappeared in front of Regina's house.

"Cora...I know you're here…" she called. But there was no answer.

"So...that's how you want to play it? Lurking from the shadows...fine by me. Just know that if either of you hurt my family or think of employing anyone else to do so...I won't hesitate to turn you to mulch!" she called with vehemence. She let her warning carry for a few beats, before she disappeared again.

Cora peeked through the curtain with a smug smirk. The Goddess was unnerved by her presence in town, which made staying concealed for now all the more fun. Like a game of cat and mouse, with her as the cat of course. As matriarchs of their respective families, Cora could already feel the coming stand off between her and the Queen of the Underworld. And she relished it. She couldn't wait to cause Snow White to lose yet another mother and give her everything she so justly deserved. Of course, that meant making the Princess truly suffer by taking away what she loved most. Her Prince Charming and lovely daughter. And then, only when Snow White was finally nothing more than a broken shell of a girl at her feet, would she grant her the release of death by allowing Regina to finally crush her heart.

"Let the games begin," Cora said quietly to herself.

"Father...you have to let me go! This is wrong!" Belle pleaded.

"I know it seems that way now, Belle. But I promise this is for your own good," Moe reasoned.

"You don't get to decide that! You cannot continue to try to force me to live the way you want me to. Why can't you understand that?" Belle exclaimed.

"Belle…" he started to say again.

"No! This is my life and if you do this, then you are the true monster!" she interrupted.

"Belle...that beast is the monster! I don't know what he has done to you, but this will fix it," Moe said. Her brows furrowed in confusion, as she watched him put a hand on the lever that controlled the mining car.

"Father...what are you doing?" she asked fearfully.

"Sending you over the town line. At least as Lacey, you can be free of that beast. Even if you leave and I never see you again, at least I know that monster won't be ruining you," he replied. Her mouth dropped open in shock, as he admitted he'd rather never see her again than allow her to be happy as herself.

"Please don't do this...I have friends! I don't want to leave them again!" she pleaded.

"This is for the best, darling," Moe said tearfully, as Emma and David rushed in with Snow and Gold behind him. Moe hit the lever and the car started speeding away, as Belle screamed. Emma drew her gun and pointed it at Moe, making him move away. David stopped the mining car and ran down the tunnel. The car screeched to a halt, barely a few feet before the line and a frantic Belle looked up.

"Belle?" he asked. She breathed in relief and nodded.

"Still Belle," she confirmed, as he unlocked the cuffs and lifted her out of the car. When they returned, she saw Emma had cuffed her father and she ran to Rumple, as he enveloped her in a hug. Snow sighed in relief, as she felt David's arms encircle her waist and she leaned back against him, relishing it, as he pressed a kiss to her hair. She turned in his arms and he cuddled her against his chest, folding her into his arms.

Dark magic swirled in Gold's palm, as he threatened to virtually vaporize Moe for what he had done.

"Rumple...no," Belle pleaded.

"He needs to pay, Belle. How can you defend him after what he almost did to you?" he growled.

"I'm not...but I don't want you to kill him," she countered.

"No...he has to pay," Rumple argued. But she put a hand on his forearm.

"And he will...because I never want to see him or have anything to do with him. Ever again," she said firmly.

"Belle…" he started to plead, but she put her hand up.

"No...just stop," she said, cutting him off.

"Belle...I'm your father," he reminded.

"No...you're not. Father's do not do what you just tried to do," she hissed. Emma nodded.

"She's right…" Emma agreed.

"And you think you know so much about father's, Miss Swan? Or mother's for that matter?" Moe questioned, glancing at Snow and Charming. Emma smirked and gave him a smug glower.

"Oh yeah...I know about having parents, in a way no one ever expected. And my parents...they'd never even think of doing to me the things you've done to your daughter. They're real parents, who love and support me, no matter what. If I thought you weren't a lost cause, I'd say you could learn a whole hell of a lot about parenting from them. But...I don't think you're worth their time," she replied. The looks on Snow and Charming's faces at that clearly stated they were both surprised and touched by their daughter's staunch defense of them.

There had been times over the years in the dreamscape that they had truly felt like horrible parents. There were even times in Emma's anger that she had told them such. And though, they knew she hadn't meant those words at the time, it was never lost on them that in many ways, she could have been right. So to hear her so passionately defend them nearly brought them both to tears. It's not something they would expect from her, so perhaps that was exactly why she believed they deserved such. Emma may have saved them all, but Snow and Charming were determined that there would not be any more challenges or battles that she would face alone.

Moe could only glare at her though and Emma never really expected to get through to him. She had a feeling he was just one of those people that would never change and this instance, perhaps Belle would be better off without him in her life. It wasn't for her to say, but she certainly wouldn't blame the brunette if she truly did cut him out of her life.

"Let's go...you can have your phone call at the station, because I'm booking you for conspiracy to commit kidnapping. And if I manage to get to the rat you hired to do the job before Gold, he's going to jail too," she informed, as she marched him out of the mines and back toward town.

Snow and Charming followed behind Belle and Gold with their arms around each other's waists. They couldn't help but exchange looks filled with so much love and emotion that anyone noticing probably would have felt like they should avert their eyes, for the looks passing between them seemed so intimate.

Unfortunately, when they reached the station, they found a nearly frantic Persephone waiting for them.

"What's wrong?" Snow asked in concern.

"Besides Regina being gone," David added.

"Because I don't think Regina was the one that freed herself," Persephone responded.

"What do you mean?" he asked.

"I thought you said she couldn't get through your magic?" Emma questioned, as they took Moe into the station and locked him up.

"She can't, which is why I don't think she did," Persephone responded, as she watched Gold hobble over to the cell that had once held her and examine the lock. They shared a knowing look.

"Then who did?" Emma asked.

"Cora…" Gold hissed and Snow felt dread knot in her stomach.

"She's here?" she squeaked, as she felt Charming's arms encircle her waist again.

"I'm afraid so, snowdrop. I knew she'd come...I was just hoping for more time," Persephone replied.

"So...if she's here and hasn't shown herself yet, what's her ploy?" David asked.

"She is patient...she'll lurk in the shadows and bide her time until she's ready to make her move. What that move will be...is uncertain," Gold responded.

"He's right, which means none of us should move about the town alone, no exceptions," she warned, as she looked to Gold.

"And you…" she started to say.

"She's going to come to you wanting to make a deal," Persephone warned.

"And she has nothing I want," Gold retorted.

"Really? So when she offers you the globe that will allow you to pinpoint Baelfire's location, you won't sell us out?" she challenged. He went silent and Belle looked at him in disbelief.

"Rumple!" she scolded.

"How can you expect me to turn down an object that will allow me to find my son?" he questioned.

"Because the price is too high!" Belle exclaimed.

"Or maybe you don't turn it down," David said, earning incredulous looks from all the women in the room.

"Do you think you could play double agent?" he asked, cluing them in on a plan of sorts.

"You want to double cross Cora? That's gutsy, even for you, dearie," he warned.

"What other choice do we have? She's going to come to you and probably evade the rest of us until she's ready to strike. Let's not let her get the drop on us," he suggested.

"I think the question is what is she going to want from you in exchange for that globe?" Snow asked.

"Probably a truce. A promise that I won't kill her on sight," Rumple responded. Emma's brow furrowed.

"What did she do to you?" the blonde asked.

"Never mind...making deals with Cora is almost as bad as making deals with Hades. However...without that globe, I might as well kiss the possibility of finding my son goodbye," he replied bitterly.

"Cora may say she wants a truce, but you and I both know she only wants that for one reason," Persephone countered. He nodded evenly.

"The dagger," he agreed.

"The dagger?" David asked.

"Quite simply, should Cora find my dagger and use it to kill me, then she becomes the Dark One. And I don't think I have to tell any of you what that would mean for all concerned," he responded. There was dead silence, as they let that sink in.

"What do we do?" Emma asked, breaking the silence.

"When she comes to you...let her convince you into a truce and get the globe. Let her think she's in control and then we track her. Once she thinks she has you at a truce, that's when she'll search for it," Persephone reasoned. Gold nodded.

"It sounds like it's our best bet, even if there's a lot of room for things to go wrong," David mentioned, not missing the troubled look on his wife's face. Emma checked the time and started for the exit.

"I gotta get Henry. He'll be getting off the bus any minute," she mentioned. The others followed, with Gold and Belle returning to the shop and Persephone letting her daughter and husband have a few moments alone.

"Snow…" he started to say.

"Cora is evil…" she blurted out.

"I know," he responded.

"No Charming...you don't know what she's like! She used my dead mother to manipulate me into telling Regina's secret. Then she killed Daniel in front of Regina," she reminded, as he put his hands on her arms.

"She won't stop until she takes away everything I love...everything her own daughter loves. That means Henry, Emma, my mother…" she lamented, as she trailed off and tears filled her eyes.

"You…" she finally managed to choke out, as he folded her into his arms and kissed her hair.

"I know you're scared...I am too. I'm terrified of losing you and our family. I don't even want to think about my life without you..I lived that when I thought we couldn't be together back in our land," he confessed. A tear slipped down her cheek and he brushed it away.

"I know...so did I," she recalled.

"Without you...I felt dead inside," he continued.

"I took a potion to forget you...it was the worst mistake ever," she reminded. He smiled gently and caressed her cheek.

"I understand why you did...I was in misery without you, but that's why I'm going to fight with everything I have for you...for Emma and Henry. Because I refuse to ever be separated from you again," he said passionately. She swallowed.

"And I'll fight for you...even if it means ending Cora myself," she realized darkly, before her green eyes flicked up to him again. She could see his worry, but he brushed it off.

"Let's hope it doesn't come to that," he replied.

"But if it does, I will do it...I will do anything for you," she promised. He hugged her close at that.

"And I you," he confessed, as he slowly led her out, tucked closely to his side.

They joined their daughter and Snow's mother at the bus stop to greet their grandson. He dipped his head down to capture her lips in a tender kiss, just as the bus pulled up and deposited Henry. With that, the five of them headed home to the loft.

Regina parked her car on the curb. A simple glamor spell had disguised her easy recognizable car as something less conspicuous and they watched Emma arrive at the bus stop with Persephone.

"These carriages are strange," Cora commented.

"They take some getting used to, but I've found they are a preferable way to travel when magic isn't an option," Regina said idly, just as they spotted Snow and Charming join the other two women at the bus stop, arms around each other.

"Ugh...are they always this nauseating?" Cora complained.

"Yes...as a matter of fact, they are. True love…" Regina said, hissing the last part with contempt.

"Love is weakness, darling. True love will be Snow White's undoing," Cora stated.

"Believe me, I've tried to get rid of her Charming multiple times, but that love always seems to save them," Regina warned. Cora smirked.

"Yes...Snow White seems quite willing to do whatever is necessary for him. It will be interesting to see how far she really will go," the former Queen of Hearts cooed. Regina gave her mother an odd look in response, but Cora didn't elaborate.

"It's time to find the person I asked you about earlier," she added. Regina nodded curtly and started the car, all while casting a longing look at Henry's retreating form.

"Don't worry sweetheart, you'll get him back and then everyone that has crossed you will pay dearly," Cora promised. Regina resisted the urge to shift uncomfortably and then slowly drove off for their intended destination...

[justanoutlawfic]

for the sentence starters: “Crap, who’s dead now?” + "We're all horrible people!" + Charming Family and the Mills Sisters

Takes place in my Free (Can’t Break Me) verse, where Stable Queen and Snow ran away to our world. I can’t promise that Zelena will be a big part of the rest of this verse, I still struggle to write her.

Also on AO3

Regina stood behind Snow, smiling as she rocked herbaby girl. She couldn’t believe it had been 9 years since David had joined thefamily and now it had grown even more. Snow and David had gotten married 5years after meeting and were just having their first child, Emma Ruth Nolan.She was beautiful, looking like a mixture of both of her parents. They weren’t theonly ones who had added along the way, Regina and Daniel had welcomed adaughter 3 years earlier, whom they had named Amara Grace.

They were happy, things were good. Snow was now ateacher and David was working on becoming detective at their local policestation. Daniel and Regina’s careers had taken off as well. Things were quiet, mellow.

David’s phone rang and Daniel jokingly rolled hiseyes. “Crap, who’s dead now,” he teased, knowing his brother-in-law could getcalled into work.

“It’s not work,” David said, shrugging a little bit. “It’sweird, I’ve been getting calls a lot from this number over the past few days, Idon’t know who it is.”

“I’ve been getting the same,” Regina admitted and Snownodded to show she had too.

“That’s weird,” Daniel scratched the back of his neck.“Anyone get into some unknown debt?”

Snow rolled her eyes. “I bet it’s just some kind ofscam.”

There was a sudden pounding at the door, which madeRegina jump. Daniel placed a hand on her back, helping her not go into panicmode. 18 years later and she could still be brought back to her childhood in ablink of an eye. She walked over to the door and opened it, gasping at theother side.

Regina had discovered Zelena when they were children.Regina had gotten herself into some magic trouble and was in a coma. Cora hadrecruited Zelena to help and it had woken her up. She and Zelena had beenclose, playing together and having a lot of fun…until they realized that theywere sisters. Cora immediately sent Zelena back to her adoptive father andseemingly erased Regina’s memory of the situation, but it hadn’t worked. She hadsecretly tried to find a way back to Zelena for years, but it never worked. Thelast she knew, Zelena had gone to Rumpelstiltskin for help…which Regina knew wasn’tthe best idea. Zelena couldn’t be reasoned with, though. She said that therewas no other way out.

Then Regina had made a choice of her own to escape andthat had been the end of that.

“Zelena,” she whispered.

“Hey sis.”

“How did you get here?”

“Mother. She cursed the kingdom.”

Regina swallowed. “What?”

“She brought us all this land with no magic so shecould find you.”

Snow came to the door, followed by Daniel and David. “Regina,who is this?”

“My sister,” Regina said, softly.

“I didn’t know you had one.”

“It was always Mother’s best kept secret. She gaveZelena up before she married my father.” She bit her lip. “Cora’s in this land.”

Snow’s eyes widened and she held her baby closer. “Doesshe know where we are?”

“Not yet,” Zelena said. “But she’s trying to figure itout. She’s long since killed Leopold so we all could get here, but on her own,she’s scary enough. I need your help.”

“Help?” Regina laughed bitterly. “Zelena, I ran awayfrom her.”

“Yes and that’s why we’re all here!”

“She wanted me to marry a man twice my age, she wantedto ruin my life even further, I did what I had to do. She was horrible.”

“We’re all horrible people!”

“Regina’s not,” Daniel said. “Zelena, I understandthat you’re upset, but we can’t help you. We’re finally free from Cora.”

“And the people in Storybrooke deserve to be herprisoner? To pay the price because she’s angry at the three of you?”

“What exactly do you expect us to do?” Regina asked. “Tocome back, so she can what…have me marry George? No way in hell.”

“No, I want you to come back so we can fight hertogether. I’m one of the few people that’s awake. We can’t let her win.”Desperation shone in her emerald eyes. “Please, Regina. I can’t do this alone,you grew up with her, you know what she’s like.”

“Regina,” Snow whispered. “Maybe Zelena’s right.”

“Are you insane?” Regina looked from Emma to her. “Youthink we should go there?”

“I think we shouldn’t let Cora hurt anyone else. Yes,we’re free and safe, but for how long? Your mother will figure out where we areeventually and she’ll try to hurt us. Don’t you think it’s best that we team uptogether and try to take her down? She won’t see it coming.”

Regina sighed, pacing in place for a moment. For thepast 18 years, she had been free, she had found a way to relax and find her ownhappy ending. Going back to fight her mother, it was the last thing she ever thoughtshe’d have to do. It wasn’t fair, she had two beautiful children, a husband andnow, a niece.

But she knew in order to keep that precious family,she couldn’t run again. It was time to face her mother once and for all.

[klinejack]

i was tagged by @clarz - thank you for this! rules: answer questions given by the person who tagged you, write 11 new questions of your own, tag 11 people. 

i’m gonna tag some people today cuz i worked hard on this and it took a long time...whoops. no pressure XD @wellsjahasghost @tylerstitties @runicscribbles @xproskeith @anomalagous @ginevraslovegood @quicklikelight​  @westhallen @lozenger8 @prudence-halliwell @malecbellarke

omg i’m sorry i just realized it’s really long. this is what happens when you take 2 days to answer a tag game. feel free to skip my answers and head to the new Qs if you want! or neither! love you <3

1. Do you find it frustrating that although you know how certain things “work” (for instance, how a love interest not calling you back automatically increases your interest), you can’t help but being drawn in? Can you give me an example? (For the record, this principle describes the entirety of my complicated one-sided relationship with one Harry Edward Styles.)

Yeeeeah i feel like most things in my life approach that level of frustration tbh. I have very little self control sometimes. I’m covered in a haze of addiction, and my impulse control/temper lives on a volatile little rickety branch in my brain where there’s always a lightning storm in the distance. Okay so what I mean is (and I’m not sure i really understand the question but I’m trying), I find it extremely frustrating that I am always aware of what the outcome will be and yet I constantly put myself in the position to be frustrated and/or disappointed by it. Did I get it? Like, if we’re talkin about celebrity obsessions, or having a crush on someone (which, yeah, I guess I kinda remember what that’s like irl), I suppose I’ve come to terms with that kind of distant admiration thing being divorced from reality- I mean, it’s been a life long struggle, so it doesn’t really get to me as much anymore. Usually. The “fangirl” in me is very, very young, and I don’t really know her anymore. If I’m talking about fighting my impulses or my mental health, or like, leaving earlier so I’m not late and then angry in traffic.... that’s a bit more frustrating. I will never leave early. Why? I don’t fucking know. And it’s the Worst. Idk if that fits with your question but yeah, I know how my behavior affects my mood and I could change it, but I don’t, and I can’t help it.

2. What is the longest book or series of books you’ve ever read? Were you at a loss when you finished? Do you generally like series or prefer stand-alone books?

The Sword of Truth series by Terry Goodkind! I love it so much. Haven’t read it in a long time, but that shit is like over 20 books and he’s still writing.. a legend. I was at a loss several times at the end of certain books that I thought were really gonna be the End, but then he made some like, spin off series a bit. So we’re good. Generally I love a good series, but there are so many stand alone books that I adore so.. I don’t know. Why am I writing so formally? This is tiresome, I’m gonna stop now. Stupid capital letters.

other series i love include everything in the tolkien universe, and of course harry potter, and also the percy jackson books. tolkien is pretty epic, to say the least, and rick riordan is fucking prolific, so hp is like, on the small side in terms of series (tho i did reread the last 2 at least a dozen times, and the audiobooks on many a long drive). also those motherfukcing maze runner books were like... there’s not that many of them, but that one i can definitely say left me at a loss. i’m still not ready to watch the last 2 movies but i hope to one day. for dylan.

3. Ever seen a therapist or gone to a support group? Did it help?

yup. i’ve seen quite a few therapists. i don’t think it’s helped in the long term, and i’m not sure it helped in the short, though there was a time i liked it because i was indulging my self analysis, but that for sure wasn’t helpful. i tried a couple cbt therapists thinking that could be a good way to go, but nothing ever really changed, so it’s hard to tell what’s going wrong- is it the therapy or is it me? idk i just think on the whole it’s got a negative color for me. i still see someone once every few weeks, but it’s a chore. this is really completely against everything i believe about therapy, btw, and i def considered becoming one when i was in university. i do think it’s beneficial, i guess just maybe not to me.

4. What is the longest road trip you’ve ever taken? Did you drive or were you just a passenger? What is your favorite road trip ritual, if you have any (the particular gas station snacks, the car games, the fights over music choices, the rest stops, etc.)?

oh my, well i’ve been on a few road trips in my life, but probably not as many as you americans do. the longest one was probably as a child, when i was about 3 or 4 my parents took us across the states, to the grand canyon (i don’t think we actually got there) in our mustard yellow vw bus. i had to be too small to remember but i definitely do (my dad’s a photographer so the boxes upon boxes of film helps): - sleeping on the ceiling in the bus like on a fucking shelf that stuck out above the driver seats. it was way too cool. - staying in a trailer park and walking over to this little building where there was some scary movie playing that had spinning wheels on fire (i think it was like some 80s horror version of rumpelstiltskin or something). i can literally picture a scene from it, just can’t really describe it. traumatizing. - playing on a beach somewhere (cape cod?) and having something nip at my little toes.

on other trips with friends we’ve shared the driving, but the most recent one from LA to vegas my friend wouldn’t let me touch the rental wheel. he thinks i’m a terrible driver. it was ok tho i got to take pictures instead.

i don’t really have a fave ritual since i don’t do much road “tripping” per se, but since i’ve lived in both toronto and new york i have done a shit ton of driving long distance, and i absolutely love it. my fave thing to do is make sure i have enough show tunes and stand up comedy on the playlist, and even some cds on back up, so i can lose my voice on the drive. usually i have some good ol’ tim horton’s french vanilla and a croissant on the side to keep me going, and if it’s long enough i usually stop somewhere for some french fries and/or a coke to wake up. god i love driving.

5. Which do you find increases more rapidly, your age or your idea of what age is old?

ugh. my age. i don’t feel old but that stupid time nonsense says otherwise. it needs to stop.

6. Do you talk to your animals when no one else is in the room? What do you say to them? Do you talk to animals you see on the street, at zoos, in your yard? How much of a face does an animal have to have to be talk-to-able? (For example, do rodents count? Birds? Fish? Cockroaches? WHERE’S THE LINE)

absolutely. i talk to pretty much fucking everything, animals or otherwise, i don’t care who’s in the room. there is no line. the line does not exist.

7. If they cooked, which dish of your mom’s/dad’s/parental figure is or was your favorite? Which was your least favorite? Do you often cook dishes your parents used to make for you for yourself now, as an adult?

welllllll my parents do cook, but over the years i came to really dislike a lot of my mom’s cooking.. habits, lets say. my dad is great on the bbq, and with all meats, but my mom is usually the organizer and most often the chef. her staples are chicken and brisket, sometimes salmon, in various ways. the problem is i’ve always been a picky eater, and tho my own tastes have branched out, my mom still thinks she needs to cook everything super plain and sometimes it’s kinda gross. like, she’ll make some fancy chicken for everyone else and throw a boneless breast covered in teriyaki sauce in a casserole in the oven for me. it does NOT taste good. but she can make a really great schnitzel, and brisket is hard to do wrong. i don’t make anything for myself the way she does it really, but my eating/cooking habits are all wonky anyway.

8. Do you ever check your voicemail? Do you answer calls from numbers you don’t have programmed into your phone?

i check it if someone left a message, why wouldn’t you? what if it’s an emergency? in fact, my best friend does not. so i guess.. that’s a thing. i for sure do not answer any call that doesn’t show a name that i recognize- even then it’s a stretch. i have to really want/need to talk to you, otherwise it’s gonna be on my terms. my phone and i have a hate-hate relationship.

9. How often do you go to the grocery store? Are you good at it? Do you have any kind of strategy or list prepared beforehand?

i go when i run out of something i wanna eat; my store is right on the corner. i basically just do the curve around the breads/fruits/veggies if i need it, then head to the aisles which i skim from the back where the frozen/refrigerated stuff is, poking in to the aisles i need to grab the shit i’ve run out of. i eat pretty much the same way most of the time so my list is in my head (which is not always a good place, but i try hard. if i forget something i go back for it next time).

10. Do movies frequently make you cry? Do you find you’re more likely to cry in the theater or at home? When people are around or by yourself?

oh hell yes. if they’re good or i’m in a mood. i don’t think it matters much where i am if it’s public or private, the cry will come if the moment is right, and i could give no shits XD

11. Have you ever seen the sun rise? Did you kind of like the weird, slightly chilly liminal space of it, or did you just wish you were still in bed?

yes i have, in so many different contexts. mostly i watch it rise because i stay up That Late most of the time (except this time of year, i haven’t seen it in a good while), wishing my ass was finally in bed going “fuck. there’s the sun again. way to go me.” but i’ve also experienced that first bit. out in the desert after a 16k hike, sweat pouring off my skin and fire burning on the surface, hissing it away. standing on top of an ancient mountain facing the dead sea, limbs aching from climbing it with the sun racing at our backs, trying to get to the top before we missed it rise. ya. sunsets are pretty, too.

so how am i supposed to think of 11 questions?? i hope none of these are from some post i saw one time, i’m gonna try to be original without rambling too much:

1- if you could go back to one major decision you made that impacted the path of your life and change it, would you? what was it? how do you think your life would be different? or don’t answer those second two questions, if you don’t want to.

2- in what direction does your belief lean (like, you don’t have to agree with my description of it, but what fits your image best):

a single/multiple divine power that controls every facet of our existence (or like, any traditional religious worldview), with or without free will?

a harmonious interconnected universal complex that directs matter and energy but is affected by our existence in said universe?

everything is just a series of random events passing through time and everything that happens, everything we do, makes the next thing happen, but it could have happened any other way as well.

do these things make sense? idk try and figure it out.

3- on that topic, what do you think happens when we die? do we go to heaven/hell or some other religious construct? do we have a soul that sticks around? reincarnation? do we just... end, and decompose, and that’s it? what do you really think? are you afraid to find out you were wrong?

4- tell me about a moment in a movie or a show that made you go all tingly inside, like, that really special tingle, and every time you see it you get those feelings again.

5- what’s your go-to method for letting out stress?

6- what are 3 of your favorite words (english or otherwise)? why do you love them? the way they sound? the way they look? what they mean? (i usually would answer this based on sound, kinda like fave color, just a feeling).

7- this isn’t so original but i wanna know- if you could live in any other period of time, in any part of the world, what would it be and why? or would you even? would you if you could choose your station/place in society?

8- is there anything you’ve ever done or ever happened to you that you absolutely never ever could ever tell anyone about? not even your soulmate or someone who would never judge you? if so, does it bother you, or do you have it tucked away in your mind and never think about it?

9- which teen wolf cast member would you get along with best? not who would you like to be in a relationship with, but who do you think you’d have the best relationship with (romantic/platonic/otherwise)? if you don’t think you know any of them well enough... which one would you bone? boooooooooone all night long?

10- do you have a talent/skill that you feel is really underrated or underused by you or others? is there something you’re really proud of but have nobody to brag to about it because nobody you know really cares at all? brag to me.

11- do you think it’s truly possible to be happy if you never have a significant other(s) for the rest of your life? could you ever be?

THAT’S ALL FOLKS. wow i can’t believe i wrote all of that shit and you read it. way to go us. thanks again, clara!

[cryptechhq]

CrypTech: A Cultist Conundrum

I’m throwing up the first story written in the CrypTech universe. Fey wrote this one out and I love it so much. Minor editing was done by me, but it was her creation and it’s great. I’m only uploading it because I work nights and was awake while building this blog. Enjoy!

The bookstore was wedged like a cut of cheese between the buildings as he glanced up from his book. Shelves like honeycomb and the air thick with the scent of liquor. Tonight was game night, the night he waited for since the last blue moon. The night where the eye over the world flickered and he saw what lay deep within. Those who were never allowed to walk in the daylight, those who hid themselves.

Fixing his favorite shirt, the one with the flowers, palm trees and surfboards, he remembered his vacation. He had walked around looking for a certain book he never did find, but instead he found this shirt under a pile of blue and neon pink button up shirts. The ocean scent on the air, it had been the last time he saw his mentor.

Tails, claws, eyes and sharp teeth were upon him as he smirked. Here at this bookstore, that had stood since the old days, he felt at home. The store had always been here, along the veins of the earth that ran beneath it. The energy that twisted its inner blood throughout like highways. This small piece of land hid secrets under the dirt, where runes were once carved and people left the dead in the sea of dirt.

Playing with his phone, he went to take a picture of his dungeon and dragons group as the flash went off and he saw a woman hiss as she took off towards the back. Staring at the picture he saw the green like smoke that was around her and those cat like reflective eyes. A whisper she was, as he tried to recall her. Had he met her before? Grasping at his memories, he tried to think, but nothing was coming to him.

A sharp pain came to his mind as he got out of his seat and chased after her quickly. As he caught up, he saw she was in the small alley looking around. Time slowed as he went to say something to only be caught by what he was seeing. The mirror like shards around her slowly coming back up as he saw the pointed ears, reflective cat-like eyes and those sharp teeth. They reminded him of a dream, as he saw the mirrors take whole as she appeared human. As if the image he had saw before was nothing but a dream.

“Wait!” the word vomit hit the air as she stopped tilting her head looking at him.

“Why?”

What was she? He had seen creatures and monsters in the city before, but she was something new. Something different from the typical creatures he saw. Was she a witch too?

“Are you-” He went to ask, but he saw her eyes go wide before she took off down the alley. Turning around he noticed the shadow watching them, and as he looked back she was gone.

He had seen her at the bookstore before, on game night. But recalling her name was hard. He knew nothing about the others, aside from that a few worked in the city. But the dead zone was theirs. The area the city forgot about, with the cenmatry(?) building that once held patrons. Now it was just an empty shell, wrapped around with a grass fence.

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Entering the dead zone, the huge white shelter stood there in the middle of the street. No bus ever stopped here, only rushed down the road like a roach when the lights were turned on. The sign stapled to the boarded up window said “not in business.” as he fished for the keys in his pocket. The city forgot about a lot of things. Here in the center there was nothing, except boarded up shops and stores. Not a living creature dared to come through unless they were quickly passing through. No one ever stopped, unless they were like him. Those who have seen in the back of the eye and know the eyes does not see all.

Popping the door open, he kept trying to figure out what she was. Reflective mirrors, was it a spell or an enchantment. He was still learning more than his craft. Scribbling in his notebook, he came up with ideas, but was interrupted by a dripping sound. A single drip that tattered against the floor, the note played over and over again. As he searched for the source, he hoped a spring would not form from the ceiling, creating a waterfall.

A crash came from upstairs, and he rushed towards it. as he reached the top he saw her there, soaking wet and sniffling. Raising an eyebrow, he went to ask a question, but stopped as he saw blood running down her arm. He went to her side as she took a step back.

“Don’t.” It came out a hiss, and he raised his hands defensively

“I think I have a spell for that.”

“What?” She asked, as he flicked his wrist, and the cut on her arm slowly healed. Looking around she heard a noise and shivered.

“I gotta keep going, bye.”

“You’re safe here, warded the place myself. I’m Jakz, and you are?” He asked, as he looked around. Grabbing up an old shirt, he tossed it towards her. The shirt dropped like a dead bird as she watched him.

“Fey.” One word as she went to the window looking outside. Left, right, and up. Nothing was there. She crumpled near the window, taking in a breath.

“This is stupid, you aren’t CrypTech.”

He raised a hand, gesturing to the room. “This is CrypTech.” She ran a hand through her hair.

“You’re joking.”

“Nope.”

Leaning back against the wall, she let her shoulders drop. “You’re one person, and you state you have supernatural solutions. Ever dealt with pissed off cultist?”

“First time for everything. So what type of cultist?” He looked out the window before shutting the blinds, leaving the room dark. He went over and turned on a lamp. Sitting down in a chair, he looked at her as if telling her to come sit at the table. With a foot he tried to clean up the water on the floor.

“Also where did the water come from?” He asked. She sat down across from him wiping her nose with her arm.

“It was raining in Arcadia.”

“The city?” He asked as she made a face.

“For supernatural solutions you don’t know much. Arcadia is another name for…you know right?” She asked as he looked at her shrugging his shoulders. “Don’t tell me I am your first customer….” She let out a nervous laugh as she took in a sharp breath.

“Well, I am fucked. You’re what a warlock? Mage? Made a contract with a good neighbor?” She kept playing with the black rubber band on her wrist as she looked around taking in the room. The TV, the computer set up with four screens and the carved runes.

“No, I am a witch...and you are?”

“Give me your full name and find out?”

“Rumpelstiltskin.” He replied in a deadpan voice. Smirking she nodded her head.

“But yet don’t know what Arcadia is. Wow, didn’t get into Hogwarts or something?”

“Listen here, Tinkerbell.”

“Oh, so you do know what I am?” He made a face, she could be or couldn’t be, glamour magic was very common, especially around creatures that lived in the dead zone.

“You said cultist and you needed help. I do know some stuff about them.”

“Oh really, Mr. Potter.”

“Tell me everything, Tink.” He saw her smirk as she let the glamour drop.

“Kay, Jack?” She questioned as he shook his head. “Jack isn’t your name, how about another one with a J? Jake?”

“You said you needed help, Bibbidi-bobbidi-boo.”

She laughed as she wringed out her hair. “Cthulhu cultist.”

“In the desert?” He blurted as she nodded her head.

“Yes, they been recruiting out here and weren’t happy I called their old one or whatever sushi.”

“You must have done more for them to come after you.”

“I also took something, humans didn’t and shouldn’t ever have, maybe.”

“Easy. give it back, no more cultist.”

“Not so easy, that’s why I am here. If I wasn’t desperate I wouldn’t be here, I would be home googling answers.” She placed a book on the table as he went to touch it, she slapped his hand.

“Don’t touch, it’s the Necronomicon. It does stuff to humans.”

“How-?!” He saw her pull it back. Yet as her hands crossed over the book, it disappeared.

“You think they would have hidden it better. Also they never said I wasn’t…” She paused before finishing her sentence.

“Wasn’t what?”

She shook her head, “So help me deal with them and I’ll pay you.”

“I need more information.”

“I just told, you I took the book and now they are after me. When you took that stupid picture earlier it messed up my glamour, and one of them found me.”

“So that’s why you ran.”

“Why else would I run? We were in a middle of a campaign. And now my poor tiefling rogue is stuck unless you continued game. “

“You play Azura!” She rolled her eyes as he tapped his fingers against the table.

“We will go talk to them.”

“No.” She blurted, “Are you nuts, they are cultists and not the average cultists. They still use blood.”

“Like I said I need more detail.”

“Urgh.”

“Look you give me information about them, and your kind, and you don’t have to pay.”

“I can pay, no problem, but giving information is rather hard. Especially ‘cause your human. How do I know this isn’t going to end up like a episode of the x-files or something. I don’t want Trump coming after us.”

“Even creatures are scared of trump?”

“More like scared of what he can do. Like, hello, you live on this planet too.” Rubbing her eyes, she tapped her fingers against the table, before speaking.

“Fine. Ask and I’ll answer, but you have to help me get these sushi cultists off me. And no, I am not returning the book.”

“Why do you need it so badly?” He watched her as she looked at the mark on her wrist.

“Mostly, no human should have it. It’s like the ultimate necromancy field guide. Bet they can’t even read this.”

“You’re a necromancer, and?”

“You can ask more than one-word answer questions, you know?” Rubbing the back of her neck, she watched as he scribbled more stuff down.

“You didn’t answer the question.”

“Ever hear of good neighbors?”

“What, like State Farm?” he asked looking up from his notebook.

“Fairies, fae folk, elves, trolls, ringing something in that head?”

“Heard of them yes. So you’re a fairy?”

“sort of.”

“Arcadia is what. fairy land?”

Nodding her head, she glanced out the window. “Faerie it used to be called. But with all the fae names and stuff Arcadia was the best. So, Jacob how you gonna take care of the sushi cult?”

Glancing at his notes, “Well Wanda, we are going to go talk to them.”

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“We are going to die.” She stated as she dried herself off downstairs. He grabbed a backpack and a few items from the desks.

“Good thing you’re a necromancer.”

“Can’t re-animate myself, blondie.”

“What type of witch are you? Water, an element?”

“It’s a surprise.”

Locking up the shop, he stopped as she cracked her back. Quiet like always but something felt off.

“They hide in downtown, near the old church.”

His car chirped as she stood near it. “How did you get into my place? I warded it.”

She froze, her eyes never meeting his. “Ever have things go missing in your place?”

“Yes, but answer the question.”

“You left a welcome sign in the window. What does that do?”

“Stop with the riddles, Fey.”

Leaning against the car she crossed her arms over her chest. “You welcomed anyone who needs a welcome in. I am shocked you didn’t know about that rule. So pretty much any fae folk are welcomed, along with blood suckers. Also it's easy getting to places through Arcadia.”  

“Wait, have you been taking my stuff?” She got into the car as he got in the driver seat staring at her.

“Who knows? Could have been anyone in Arcadia going through the dead zone.”

“You better not have taken my Runic black dice set.”

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“Left up here.” The street lights guided the way. There were people out this night, walking along the shops. As he drove into a small parking lot he could see the huge black iron fences surrounding the old church. Large, grey and white stone, it used to tower over the city Now it was just a small building in a shadow of a corporate office.

“Shit.”

“What’s wrong?” He asked as he parked the car.

“There’s iron, if there’s a fight I am screwed. Also there’s not much dirt. More concrete than anything.  If I need to raise the dead I need dirt, they can’t break out of concrete. Modern coffins are bad enough.”

“We are talking not fighting. Let me handle it.”

Her eyes shifted as she curled her hands. He opened the fence, and she followed behind him, trying to not touch anything as she kept an eye out. Fixing his shirt, he ruffled his hair a little as he looked back at her.

“Where to from here?”

Shrugging her shoulders, “Not sure, I came from Arcadia to here. I didn’t have to enter the church this way.”

The door was falling apart as he pushed it open, letting it fall. Inside was a heavy layer of dust and spider webs.

“No one here.”

“We need to move the altar.”

“I thought you said, you never came in this way.” She started trying to push the altar as dust flew all over the place.

“This usually causes something to happen in action movies. Also I can use an extra set of hands.” The altar moved as she was huffing.

“Don’t work out much?”

“Shut up, Blondie.”

There were stairs leading down as she looked at him and then started down the stairs.

“You can see in the dark.” He whispered as she felt the walls as she walked.

“No, I am following the wall.”   A light was flickering as she stopped, and felt him bump into her. She stumbled as she saw cloaked figures running around like she saw before. “Uh.” It came out as she went to take a step back to stay there.

“Go.” He stated as she looked back at him.

She took one step as she saw a hooded head look towards her. “You.” A growl came out from the hooded person as she smiled and waved, “Hi. Sorry about calling your octo god sushi?” She walked slowly as she felt Jakz get in front of her.

“We are here to talk, nothing more.” The hooded figure glanced at him before sniffing the air.

“A human.”

“Middle man.” Jakz explained before grabbing Fey’s arm. She turned to look at him as he mouthed two words Trust me.

“She took something of ours.” The hood was pushed back showing a human with fish like skin. It took Jakz a thorough effort to not start humming a Lovecraftian Christmas Carol.

“Is there somewhere we can talk? Instead of right here? Like a café or something?” he asked. as he took in the hallways and lights.

“The chamber, Elder Craft should be there. This way.”

Following the fish like man, Jakz held on to Fey’s arm as she curled her fingers. The chamber was huge, and looked as if they were under the sea. Blues, greens and the scent of sea salt. A man was pacing as he stopping locking eyes on them. The fish man bowed his head,

“Elder Craft, a human brought the thief.”

“Good, reward him.” Elder Craft stated. As Fey looked at him the green smoke started to form around her.

“I am not here for a reward. Here to talk, Elder Craft, right?” Jakz stated as the smoke started to disappear, still lingering. “Why don’t you tell me about the book she took?”

“It’s none of your concern human.” Craft hissed as Jakz let go of Fey’s arm.

“It is my concern when you start hunting down my client.”

“She’s a thief.”

“Then how come the book belongs in Miskatonic University library? Is a thief a thief, if she took it from a thief and returned a lost library book?”

The elder walked quickly to Jakz face as he was a few inches away, hissing. “She did what? No.”

Fey glared, her eyes locked on the elder. As she glanced around she saw there were bloodstains being cleaned. The elder went to grab her, but stopped as lighting crackled from Jakz.

“Don’t touch my client. We done here? If you want your book, you’re going to need a library card.”   

Fey rubbed her wrist as she heard foot steps coming quickly. A growl as the elder looked at her.

“Sorry for calling your god sushi.” The elder made a face as he turned his back to them.

“Never come back here. Else when he wakens, you’re going to be the first sacrifice.”

“Bye.” Jakz went to say something she grabbed him as he felt sea sick. Everything was turning as he saw trees and lights and then they were back at the car, Fey taking quick breaths as he looked at her dizzily.

“What was that?” He tried focusing on something to stop the feeling of being at sea. She looked beat.

“A glimpse of Arcadia. I didn’t like that they were surrounding us, and they looked ready for a new sacrifice. Couldn’t have the guy helping me end up a soul for some sushi god.”

“Now to get the book to the library.”

She glared as she looked at her wrist. “No, our deal was I keep the book.”

“I have a plan. But more questions.”

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Smoke danced from the coffee cups as they sat in the studio apartment. Morning crept through the window, and Fey added another spoonful of sugar to hers.

“What now?”

He took a drink from his cup as he placed a hand on the table. “Can I see the book again? I am not going to touch it.” Crossing her wrist over the table, it appeared.

“I need it for a day.”

She took a drink as she glared. “What are you planning? You can’t touch it.”

“Why not?”

She sighed. “It corrupts human minds. The whispers of it often causes people to kill and, well, you saw the cult.”

“Then how come you can touch it?”

“Fae blood. Also, that library…”

He smirked as she looked at him, “It doesn’t exist.” She looked shocked as she took a spoonful of sugar and placed it into her mouth.

“You tricked a cult…who knows, maybe you have fae blood in you.” She smirked as he saw her rub the cover.

“Why didn’t you hide in Arcadia instead of coming to me? You said you were desperate but yet you seemed to be taking note of everything? What are you hiding?” She tapped the spoon against the coffee cup.

Cracking her neck, she had a smile on her lips, “It’s a long story as well...” She flipped out a knife, as crackling could be heard. She looked at him as she craved a symbol into the window’s glass. She put the knife away as she sat back down. “To keep other fae from entering. And blood suckers. And it’s a long story.”

“I have time.”

“Trade you a tale for your full name?” He let out a laugh as she put another spoonful of sugar into her mouth.

“Hey.” He blurted as she looked up at him shrugging. “You’re going to eat all the sugar.”

“I need to get my strength back, jumping to and fro is tiring.” He looked at her as she leaned back in the chair. He stared at the cover as blue lighting danced from his fingers. She saw him point his hand, and the sparks went to the computer.

“What are you?” He looked at her as he was focusing on the book.

“Hey.” She blurted as he closed his eyes. Sparks dying out as he smiled as she leaned over the table looking at him. Before slapping one of his cheeks like a seal  “Don’t be possessed. Come on I don’t need another corpse.”

“Boo.” She almost fell back as she glared like a house cat.

“What did you do?” She grabbed the book checking it over as she opened it looking at pages, flipping through them quickly.

“I made a copy.” Raising an eyebrow, she hugged the book to her chest.

“You downloaded the book…that’s new.”

Putting the book away she finished her coffee with a yawn. “This has been one hell of a night. Still can’t believe you ended that conflict with a lie.”

“I do that sometimes. How long were you running from them?”

“Four months. Any other questions, tech wiz kid?” He let out a laugh as she looked at the desktop screen to see the typed words moving as if alive.

“Want a job?”

“I don’t know, let me check my schedule.” She pretended to flip through a book as she nodded her head, “I can move grave robbing to tomorrow at midnight, and... oh no. Well, I can move that to next blood moon.” She looked at him. “I figured you were going to need help.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” He asked

“You don’t know everything. Some things, yes. And you got yourself a silver tongue.  I did say I would answer any question. We made a deal.”

“What does that have to do with a job?”

“Don’t know much about fae folks, a deal is a contract. You’re looking at you new co-worker, Jules.”

“That’s not my name, try again co-worker.”

[swanqueeneverafter]

13. Hat Trick, Pt.3

Enchanted Forest. Past. (Jefferson meets with the Evil Queen at her castle. He enters with the hat box and is escorted by several guards.) Evil Queen: “Jefferson. So good to see you looking more like yourself. I assume you’re here because you’ve reconsidered my offer?” Jefferson: “I want your guarantee. That, if I do what you ask, my daughter will want for nothing.” Evil Queen: “You have my word. Now, let’s open that box of yours and see what it can do. (He pulls a top hat out of the box:) I do so like a man who dresses for the occasion.” (Jefferson places the hat on the floor and spins it. It begins to spin on its own.) Jefferson: “Step back. (The hat forms a purple vortex:) After you!” Evil Queen: “Together!” (They link arms.) Jefferson: “Hold on!” (They both jump into the vortex and are transported elsewhere.) Storybrooke. Jefferson’s House. Present. (Jefferson brings Emma to a room with several top hats lining the walls.) Emma: “I don’t know what you think you’re doing, but if you hurt my friend, I swear I’ll make you regret it.” Jefferson: “Hurt her? I’m saving her life.” Emma: “How do you figure that?” Jefferson: “Don’t play stupid. We both know what happens when people try to leave Storybrooke.” Emma: “What are you talking about?” Jefferson: “The curse.” Emma: “What curse?” Jefferson: “The one keeping us all trapped. All except you.” Emma: “Have you been reading Henry’s book?” Jefferson: “Henry? You mean the Queen’s father?” Emma: “Henry, the mayor’s kid.” Jefferson: “Oh, Henry. Your Henry. And his book of stories. The ones that you choose to ignore. Maybe, if you knew what I know, you wouldn’t.” Emma: “Why have you been spying on me?”

Jefferson: “Because, for the last twenty-eight years, I’ve been stuck in this house. Day after day, always the same. Until one night, you, in your little yellow bug, roll into town, and the clock ticks, and things start to change. You see… I know what you refuse to acknowledge, Emma. You’re special. You brought something precious to Storybrooke – magic.” Emma: “You’re insane.” Jefferson: “Because I speak the truth?” Emma: “Because you’re talking about magic.” Jefferson: “I’m talking about what I’ve seen. Perhaps, you’re the one that’s mad.” Emma: “Really?” Jefferson: “What’s crazier than seeing and not believing? Because that’s exactly what you’ve been doing since you got to our little hamlet. Open your eyes. Look around. Wake up. Isn’t it about time?” Emma: “What do you want?” Jefferson: “I want you to get it to work.” (Jefferson sits Emma down in front of a table of sewing supplies and materials.) Emma: “You want me to get what to work?” Jefferson: “You’re the only one that can do this. You’re going to get it to work.” Enchanted Forest. Past. (Jefferson and the Evil Queen end up inside Jefferson’s hat. There are several different coloured doors lining the walls.) Evil Queen: “I forgot how magnificent you are.” Jefferson: “I’m not here to relive the past. I’m here for my daughter. (He points toward a door made of glass:) Here – this is the entrance. It’s important that we stick together. Same amount of people that go through have to come back. No more, no less. It’s the hat’s rule, not mine.” Evil Queen: “I understand.” Wonderland. Past. (They enter through the mirrored door and arrive in Wonderland. Along the path, they encounter the Caterpillar.) Caterpillar: “Who are you? Who? Who?” Jefferson: “I hate Wonderland.” Storybrooke. Jefferson’s House. Present. (Emma and Jefferson are still in the sewing room.) Jefferson: “Make one like that.” Emma: “You want me to make a hat? You don’t have enough?” Jefferson: “Well, none of them work, do they? Or else you wouldn’t be here. Now, make a hat, and get it to work.” Emma: “I don’t-” Jefferson: “You have magic. You can do it.” Emma: “The hats, the tea, your psychotic behavior… You think you’re the Mad Hatter.” Jefferson: “My name’s Jefferson.” Emma: “Okay. You’ve clearly glommed onto my kid Henry’s thing. They’re just stories. The Mad Hatter is in Alice in Wonderland – a book. A book I actually read.” Jefferson: “Stories. Stories? What’s a story? When you were in high school, did you learn about the Civil War?” Emma: “Yeah, of course.” Jefferson: “How? Did you read about it, perchance, in a book? How is that any less real than any other book?” Emma: “History books are based on history.” Jefferson: “And storybooks are based on what? Imagination? Where does that come from? It has to come from somewhere. You know what the issue is with this world? Everyone wants some magical solution for their problem, and everyone refuses to believe in magic. Now, get it to work.” Emma: “Here’s the thing, Jefferson – this is it. This is the real world.” Jefferson: “A real world. How arrogant are you to think yours is the only one? There are infinitely more. You have to open your mind. They touch one another, pressing up in a long line of lands. Each just as real as the last. All have their own rules. Some have magic, some don’t. And some need magic. Like this one. And that’s where you come in. You and your friend are not leaving here, until you make my hat. Until you get it to work.” Emma: “And then what?” Jefferson: “Then I go home.”

Wonderland. Past. (Jefferson and the Evil Queen come to a hedge maze.) Jefferson: “You want to go in there?” Evil Queen: “What I want is a short walk through.” Jefferson: “A short walk? You know who this belongs to.” Evil Queen: “The Queen of Hearts. She’s not one for subtlety.” Jefferson: “This wasn’t part of our deal. You know what she does to anyone that crosses her.” Evil Queen: “Indeed. Better than most. You can’t leave Wonderland without me. Two go through, two go back. You’re not going to let the Queen of Hearts keep you from returning to your daughter, are you? (Jefferson says nothing and begins to follow her:) That’s what I thought.” Jefferson: “Wait. (He picks up a branch from the ground and throws it towards one of the walls. The hedge grabs the branch and pulls it into the wall:) Stay away from the walls.” Evil Queen: “I’ve got a better idea. The walls should stay away from me.” (The Evil Queen magically creates a fireball, and blasts a path through the maze. The two of them proceed until they reach a vault containing a wall of hearts like the Evil Queen’s. She pulls a drawer open and takes out the box.) Jefferson: “Okay? You got what you need. Shall we?” (The two of them go to leave, but are suddenly ambushed by several of the Queen of Hearts’ guards.) Guard: “Trespassers! Halt!” (Jefferson and the Evil Queen begin to run through the hedge maze. The guards follow and try to stop them, but are thwarted by the Evil Queen’s magic. They run back to the burned path, where the Evil Queen magically causes the hedges to reform. They end up back at the mirrored door they entered through.) Jefferson: “The Looking Glass! There it is!” (Jefferson sees that the Evil Queen has stopped.) Jefferson: “C- What are you doing? We can’t stop now. We got to get out of here.” Evil Queen: “There’s something I need to do first.” (She breaks off a piece of mushroom.) Evil Queen: “A little snack.” Jefferson: “Are you mad? Do you know what the food here does?” Evil Queen: “I’m well aware.” (The Evil Queen sets the opened box on the ground and places the piece of mushroom inside. Purple smoke emerges from the box and materializes into Henry I.) Evil Queen: “Oh, daddy!” Jefferson: “This is what she took from you? Your father?” Evil Queen: “The Queen of Hearts has always seen me as a threat. So, she wanted some leverage. I got it back.” Henry I: “The Queen’s soldiers – we must hurry.” Jefferson: “You knew only two can go through the hat… Which is why you didn’t tell me about your father.” Evil Queen: “It was the only way to make sure you’d help me.” (Jefferson tries to chase after them, but his feet are swallowed by the ground.) Jefferson: “Wait! Wait! Wait, please. My daughter… My Grace… She’s… She’s waiting for me. I promised her I’d… I’d be home for tea.” Evil Queen: “A promise which you now have broken. If you truly cared for your daughter, you never would’ve left her in the first place. You were right, Jefferson. You don’t abandon family.” (The Evil Queen and her father go through the mirrored door.) Jefferson: “No! No…” (The Queen of Hearts’ men finally catch up to Jefferson. Two of the guards drag him away.) Knave of Hearts: “Take him to the Queen.”

Enchanted Forest. Past. (Prince Charming barges through the front doors of Rumpelstiltskin’s estate.) Prince Charming: “Rumpelstiltskin! Show yourself.” (Rumpelstiltskin appears behind him.) Rumpelstiltskin: “Still dressing like a prince, I see. Even though you ran away from the life I gave you. How’s that for gratitude?” Prince Charming: “You gave me a prison sentence.” Rumpelstiltskin: “Yeah, one that you’ve now skirted. Careful, dearie – King George is a vengeful man.” Prince Charming: “I’m here about Snow. Rumour has it, she’s after the Queen and she came to you for help.” Rumpelstiltskin: “Yes, indeed.” Prince Charming: “What did you do to her?” (He draws his sword.) Rumpelstiltskin: “What did I do to her? You mean, what did you do to her. You caused her pain. Without that pain, she would never have drank my potion to forget about you. That’s what changed her.” Prince Charming: “Undo the potion. All magic can be broken.” Rumpelstiltskin: “Oh, yes. With twoo wuv.” Prince Charming: “So, that’s it then? True love’s kiss will awaken her?” Rumpelstiltskin: “Most certainly. But, it’s going to be hard to kiss her when you don’t know where she is.” (Rumpelstiltskin swats Prince Charming’s sword and starts to walk away.) Prince Charming: “Name your price.” Rumpelstiltskin: “How about… your cloak?” Prince Charming: “My cloak? Why would you want my cloak?” Rumpelstiltskin: “It’s drafty in here.” (Prince Charming takes off his cloak and places it on the table.) Prince Charming: “Where is she?” Rumpelstiltskin: “On her way to the Queen’s Highway.” (He magically produces a map.) Rumpelstiltskin: “This is the route she’s taking, but you better be quick. Because, if she kills the Queen, she becomes as evil as the woman whose life she takes.” Prince Charming: “She could never become that evil.” Rumpelstiltskin: “Evil isn’t born, dearie – it’s made. If Snow starts down that road, you’ll never get her back.” (Snow White is preparing herself at the spot that Rumpelstiltskin specified. Suddenly, Prince Charming ambushes her from behind.) Snow White: “Get your hands off me!” Prince Charming: “Snow.” Snow White: “Who are you? What are you doing?” Prince Charming: “I’m helping you remember. (He kisses her:) I told you – I will always find you.” (Snow White punches him in the head, causing him to fall unconscious.)