#she stayed a couple of months in Far Frozen but time in the Realms is funky

[nelkcats]

Honorary Yeti

Frostbite is Leslie Thompkins teacher and inspiration, how this happened? When she was a kid, she fall through a natural portal and ended in Far Frozen, the Yetis were scary until they offered a warm blanket and hot chocolate.

Because she was just a little girl she marveled at everything she was looking at, it seemed so new and shiny. But what attracted her the most was seeing one of the Yetis explaining how to correctly apply a bandage, saving the life of a bright blue being.

Everything was like a dream, with the Yetis starting to teach her everything they did, her learning how to deal with "ghosts" and "liminals", although the latter seemed to be very rare, but no one explained to her correctly what she was learning.

Frostbite was the one who explained everything about medical knowledge to her, and she wanted to be a doctor. However, after waking up in her bed, everything seemed like a dream, and even if she doubted it was, who would believe that her greatest inspiration was a Yeti?

More precisely, this inspired her to learn all possible medical fields, and to become accessible to everyone who needed it.

When the rumored "Great One" she saw in her dreams visited Gotham City with an injury, she was prepared.

[tanglepelt]

Im... um.. the ambassador? 1

I did it. Its a fic now. Based off this idea I had.  A03 Next

Ellie misses her monthly check in with Danny. He finds her in the basement.

The first time Ellie destabilized Danny got panicky. Granted so was she. It was only thanks to the Red Huntress change in heart that she got out alive. A quick little jab of an experimental ecto-dejecto was all it took. She was off on yet another worldwide adventure. Unlike Danny, she didn’t want to go amongst the stars she wanted to sightsee. Find her own path in life. Freshly stabilized with some new equipment she was off. Her first stop was going to be Hong Kong. Now equipped with a phone and translation app Sam downloaded it. Danny wanted her to have at least one call a month to ensure she was safe.

Danny was just being overly protective.

Until he wasn’t. Week three hit and it starts all over again. Her powers being stripped, slowly turning into goop with prolonged use. She had barely explored Hong Kong. Ellie never got to figure out if the mysterious black bat even existed. She’d heard about it in some alley. The same one she was currently having her conundrum in. She wouldn’t make it to Danny on her own. Making the dreaded phone call she pretended not to notice the feeling of being watched.

The phone was a good call. Not that she’d ever admit that to Danny. Danny answered on the first ring and opened a portal the moment she explained. Showing up in full regal attire cursing as he walked through. Whoops. He had been in one of those council meetings.

Danny had just been pacing in the medical ward in the far frozen. A constant back and forth as frostbite began performing tests. Connecting her to tubes she was even in a clear tube at one point. It was as frostbite said a worst-case scenario. The reason Vlad had been so unsuccessful wasn’t due to a lack of DNA as he thought. Those of the infinite realm needed a core to maintain their powers. In Danny’s case, the Ice core is what allowed his powers to safely flow through him. Without it he would either fully die or just never have maintained a ghost form. The core is what allowed the balance between life and death.

She was not made with a core. Hence the destabilizing when using her powers. A core could not form over time without steady ectoplasma. They only grew. When Danny died in the portal accident it was the ectoplasma from the realm that created his core. Or the start of one. Frostbite was a tad bit confusing. Apparently, the core over time gets more mature as the ghost comes into their powers. She was made with DNA and ectoplasma. The powers the ectoplasma gave her would kill her. Vlad had the time for the ecto acne to create a core. Had his powers shown immediately after his college accident it was a one-way trip. No half-life included.

Frostbite found a way to temporarily as in maybe 24 hours max keep her staple as is. Meaning she could keep using her powers for the next 24 hours. His only solution was to attach her to one of his vats of pure ectoplasma. She’d be stuck in the far-frozen medical ward on an IV, with no powers nothing for at least a year. Frostbite says three would be his guess. Her having powers prior to the core was a setback.

Danny did something that seemed to surprise Frostbite. You could see the shock on his face. The way his eyes showed concern. Frostbite had looked at her and then at Danny.

Frostbite then pulled Danny out of the room. Ellie should have been concerned by that, but one of the yetis asked if she wanted to learn some fighting stances. That was much more fun than waiting in worry. If she was going to end up stuck for a couple of years, she was going to make these 24 hours the best she’s had. If it came to it, she’d stay in the medical ward. No more turning into goo for her.

When Danny came back, they had a solution. Ellie could receive a portion of Dany’s Core.

Those in the room seemed to be still at the admission. When she asked if it was safe for her the response was simply that there are cases where a parent ghost gave up a part to save their child when the core was injured or destroyed. As she was Danny’s clone it should be perfectly harmless for her. She would have no problems in the future.

After the procedure was done it wasn’t Danny who took her back to the human realm. Jazz had shown looking concerned telling her that Danny had kingly duties to attend to. Paperwork to handle the boring stuff. Jazz was happy to spend the next week coming to Sam’s to hang out with her. She wasn’t going to just leave before properly saying goodbye to Danny. Especially since Jazz was going to be heading off to Gotham U the following month. She had a full-ride scholarship. Jazz had refused any help from her parents.

Ellie had some new guidelines for the next year or two. Besides monthly in-person visits, a weekly call, and a minimum of a text a day she was back to exploring the world.

The first three home visits with Danny were some of the most exciting times she’s had. Danny’s rouges were super fun to help take down. Danny just told her she could go feral on them. It only took two home visits for them to flee from her.

His parents were a whole different breed. He’s warned her about the whole tear him apart molecule by molecule thing. But man, this was something else. The two even managed to get a hit on her.

On her next visit, only the box ghost was in town. Danny just let her deal with him. She made it last it would. Danny tended to keep their visit calm when he could. Go get food at the nasty burger, mini golf, and jazz-approved events. Jazz wanted them to have a healthy bond. Not one based on bashing in enemies.

It was that time of the month. Her visit day. She had stories to tell him. Ellie had met actual Heroes while she had been out and about. They tried to ask her a bunch of questions, but she honestly didn’t want to answer. Ellie would just turn invisible and stop breathing. If that didn’t help, she just traveled under the ground. Not in caves just underneath the ground. She had intangibility for a reason. Even figuring out how to maintain her temperature with the core. She could match the temperature of the air around her if it was cooler than 75 degrees. Danny’s ice core only allowed her to go lower than her standing body temp. She was super excited about the new use of his powers and one of the heroes was even an alien. Danny was going to flip out.

Ellie was so caught up in grabbing her phone to tell Danny she was here to notice the Fenton parents watching her fly in. Her quick look around revealed nothing. The flash of white happened, slowly transforming back into her human half.

Something hit her. It forced her to the ground. It was worse than when she was destabilizing. Her eyes began to shut. The last thing she saw was the blue and orange lab suits.

**

It had been three hours since Ellie and he was meant to meet up. Danny had a day planned at Sam’s house. It was her 7th visit. The gang was going to have a movie marathon. All four of them. Now Ellie isn’t the best at showing up on time. Normally she’s only an hour or so late and always gives a heads-up.

No, he is not overbearing despite Ellies claims. Its bad enough to let a twelve-year-old be on her own. She’s nearly turned to goo in front of him twice. He has every right to be concerned with her well-being. Especially since she now had a part of his core. While there were no physical effects it did put her at risk. Ellie could be a target to anyone who wanted to get one up on the Ghost King. If it was possible, he would keep her in Amity with them. There were two problems with that. Ellie herself and then his parents. Ellie would never want to be stuck in Amity, she’s a free spirit. A small town would never be enough for her.

Then there were his parents. It was bad enough they managed to shoot her once. Now they were hellbent on getting the ghost girl as well.  Overall, their whole ghost-hunting thing had spiraled. They were desperate to get their hand on a specimen. Danny’s been doing a lot of damage control.

The council was getting antsy. The whole situation was spiraling. The anti-ecto acts were in Congress now. All he can do is hope they don’t pass. Seeing how the GIW has been moving it seemed to be guaranteed. The group had no issues acting early. The last 3 months had been a disaster. Balancing being king, high school, his parent's babysitter, and stopping the GIW's attempts have not left time for much.

Today was not a day to worry about what his parents or the stupid ghost council wanted. He was going to get Ellie and start the movie night. Jazz was even willing to pop in via the web from her dorm room.

There were no responses to any of his messages. Now was a time to be concerned. It's almost hour four. Drastic times meant drastic measures. Did he have Tucker put a tracker in the phone they gave her? Yes. It was finally going to get used. He didn’t abuse the fact it was done. He did trust her.

He found the phone but not his little sister.

The phone was cracked.

On the ground.

Without her.

All he could do was hope this was some prank. It's not uncommon but, this would not be a good one. Ellie did lack a lot of social development. Vlad really didn’t program that in. Better to manipulate those who wouldn’t be able to tell and read him. That’s what this had to be right. Just some stupid prank to mess with him.

That’s it.

He’d go back to Sam’s, and she’d be there. Ready to laugh at him.

But she wasn’t.

The trio was on full alert now. Tucker was checking the tracker's history, pulling up cameras. The first place he was going to check was the GIW. They got a bug in their system a while back that makes rescues a breeze. Sam was taken a hands-on approach and would search Amity. Danny was going to go to Frostbite.

Danny promised he’d never take the infa-map again. Nothing was stopping him from asking. He’d beg if he had to. If they wanted him decked out in full regalia, he’d do it. Announce her as the princess that’s fine with him. Ellie won’t be pleased. She didn't even know.

The council wanted an announcement as it was such a big deal. A royal family was not common. There was only one other king who had one. Kingship was taken by the victor of a fight. The core of whoever took won then morphed. The ghost core slowly takes power from the previous king until the new core forms. Danny became king not as he was the sole combatant, but Pariah's Core after being resealed destabilized. It only latched on to him because he was the closest. It was a first.

He received all the Pariahs core at once. On top of his still-forming core. Danny giving up a piece of it before both melded could would lead to problems in the future.

Giving Ellie a part of the “kings” core, it made her part of the royal family. Becoming king meant taking power. Those after power in the afterlife didn’t typically have kids. She was the first official princess of the realm.

Danny refused to push any of the responsibilities on her. No official announcement had been made. If he had his way, there never would be. Once her core formed around his, Ellie would get to choose.

Danny didn’t notice his and Ellies phone next to Tucker as he left.

In record time he was outside Fentonworks. The ghost shield was on. Something wrong. He noticed the GAV was gone as well. Turning back human he headed in. Inside there wasn’t a note. Ever since Jazz was off at Gotham U his parents always left a note saying where they were. Booking it to the lab he got to the door. It was locked and the security system told him he was unauthorized to enter.

The shield was on. There was nothing to keep out. The lab was on lockdown.

They wouldn’t have.

Tucker had a built-in override to the lab. Activating it not only turned off the security system but the ghost shield as well.

Rushing to the lab he saw his worst fears come true.

There his little sister was. Strapped to a table, arms, and legs cuffed down. The cuffs glowing green had to be blocking her powers. Machines were connected to her. The beeps only taunted him.  The worst part was the fact she was fighting the restraints her mouth gagged.

Jack and Maddie had strapped and gagged a little human girl down.

His sister.

Tag list.. well some. It wont let me tag a few people. 

@imgonnaeatthatglitter @victoria-has-no-secret

@thewondersoflebanon @darkstarsapocalypse

@gin2212 @akikkobara

@apointlessbox 

@valiantsuitcaseskellington

There is three separate chapters (potentially 4). I’m finishing the last one now. If you want to be tagged again let me know. I will not auto retag people unless they ask.

[chiimaera]

“Look, can we… can we not talk about this now? Please?” // @ persephone

THEIR TIME TOGETHER WAS ALWAYS TOO SHORT, the four months out of the year felt like four days by the time it reached its end. some days she wondered if it wasnt better to just stay in the underworld and let the human realm fall into cold frozen ruin. she had pressed her luck a couple times only to have her father forcibly retrieve her when his humans began to starve to death. a rather ironic lecture about duties followed and it had taken every crumb of self restraint not to remind the old man whose fault it was. despite her small frame and compassionate disposition, her fiery ire was something she had inherited from the moody all father himself.

she had never doubted her husbands faithfulness to her, never wondered what he did while she was away until the queen had met her. the nymph of cocytus who seemed to fit far more perfectly into morbid wintery kingdom than she did. oh, the nymph had made sure point that out. every word that left the other womans lips felt like oil to a fire that persephone had not realized existed.

' there will be a day when he tires of you and he will come to me as he did before, needing a woman far more fit to be his queen. after all, the beauty of spring always fades ' then the nymph smiled, sharp and confident in a way that made the goddess grind her teeth.

truthfully everything that had come out of her mouth fell second to the tid bit of information that her husband had been intimate with the nymph. the jealous rage that swept through her felt like a tidal wave, crashing against the walls of her patience until only rubble was left behind. was this was it was to love someone? to feel as though her heart had been trampled at the mere idea that her husband would find pleasure and comfort in a body that wasnt her own?

servants and creatures kept their distance as she stalked through the dark halls of the palace. the spring goddess was usually seen humming a song, placing flowers inside pottery, saying hello to stoic passerby and errant souls. this time her gait was of a queen marching into battle, straight toward the dining hall where she knew he would be waiting. news traveled fast because by the time she pushed open the massive stone doors, another nymph straightened from where she was whispering into the rulers ear before disappearing in pop of magic.

“ look, can we… can we not talk about this now? please? ” they only had three weeks left before she was to leave for her duties and there was better ways to be spending their time together yet—

" no, we will talk about this now, " persephone practically growled. power radiated off her, all the blooms she had placed in the dining area wilted and shriveled in her presence. the servants took steps back so that they were closer to the walls without fully retreating their posts. " you took a concubine? you took a concubine and you didnt tell me? truly you and your brothers are unbelievable! at least, my father is out in the open about his affairs, but you? youve been lying me, spinning fairytales of true love while fucking nymph while im away! "

[snelbz]

A Battlefield’s Miracle {Nessian}

A/N: This story is based post ACOSF. It will 100% contain spoilers for A Court of Silver Flames. Do not read forward if you have not finished the book yet! Written, as always, with @tacmc.

It wasn’t supposed to be this way. There couldn’t have been a worse time or inopportune moment for a miracle.

When war did indeed break out with the remaining fae realms, ready to take up whatever lands were weaker their own, Nesta was one of the first to step up, much to Cassian’s utter dismay and terror.

And his disgustingly overwhelming pride.

She’d been making strides with the female Illyrians, thanks to re-emergence of the Valkyrie ranks. She, Gwyn and Emerie were infamous for their success in the Blood Rite, Nesta more so even if she wasn’t labeled a true Carynthian. Her stand at the Pass of Enalius was regarded as something straight from the legends, something rivaling Enalius’ stand itself.

Most of the women couldn’t fly, thanks to the archaic clipping of their wings, but thanks to their innate sense of battle, having grown up seeing their fathers, brothers, and cousins train, they were naturals. 

They were the Valkyrie reborn, a swift, deadly legion of foot soldiers, who could kill just as well as any airborne soldier.

At Nesta’s request, Rhys and Cassian allowed them to protect the mortal lands from the incoming storm of battle. A small Illyrian legion was with them, but not to oversee or protect them. They were backup, only joining the fight if the majority of the Valkyrie were to fall.

It had been nearly three months of near daily battles when they received word of an incoming assault, larger than one they’d seen yet. To battle with as few soldiers as they had would be suicide. The full power of the Illyrian Legion would be arriving any day to ensure the protection of the mortal lands, and the continued strength of the Valkyrie. Feyre had winnowed into the camp to tell her, but Nesta could only focus on one piece of information as her sister hurriedly informed her of the plan, and of the onslaught they’d soon be facing: her mate would be here within the hour, the remainder of the Night Court’s aerial forces only a day or so behind.

It had been months since she’d seen him, though they checked in on each other regularly through the bond, mentally checking the other for injuries after a harsh battle. The mating bond was a sensual, tangible thing, something Nesta was increasingly thankful for the longer she stayed away from her mate and husband.

She felt a shift in the camp the second his feet touched down in the frozen lands, turning and rushing from the war tent she’d taken as her base of operations, leaving Feyre in the middle of a sentence, but not caring that she was ignoring her High Lady.

She found him as quickly as he found her, meeting in a small clearing, filled with tents. She was sure there were others around, whether Valkyrie or Illyrian, watching their reunion. Nesta needed him, in every sense of the word, but after she threw her arms around him she found herself pulling back to look him over. She was terrified there was something she had missed after his last battle, and it seemed he was doing the same.

“You’re okay,” she breathed, gazing up into his handsome face.

He nodded, leaning down to rest his forehead against hers. “So are you.”

Neither of them were asking a question, just needing the confirmation.

They disappeared soon after, falling into the nearest tent to make their overwhelming feelings known to one another. The emotions that escaped them in the following half hour only prepared them for battle more.

A battle that they faced together.

Just over a month later, once Cassian had left and Nesta was leading her sisters into yet another battle, the first wave of nausea came.

She powered through, ignoring the roiling in her stomach, chalking it up to nerves as she cut through the line of fae soldiers.

But it happened again, day after day. And eventually, leaning over a bucket as she emptied the contents of her stomach, she couldn’t ignore the truth anymore.

Nesta was pregnant.

She hadn’t even realized Gwyn and Emerie had entered her tent, having heard her getting sick. Her head was cradled in her hands and she cursed herself for being so reckless. All those months apart from Cassian, she’d quit taking her contraceptive tonic. There was no reason to, and it only slowed her down on the battlefield. But a quick and hasty joining, as perfect as it had been, was all it had taken.

“Nesta?”

Her head snapped up, finding her sisters, not by blood, but by bond, watching her. It was Emerie who had spoken her name, but Gwyn’s teal eyes had gone wide. She could scent it. Somehow, over the smell of bile in the bucket before her and the blood soaked battlefield, Gwyn had immediately sensed the change in Nesta’s scent and body.

“You’re pregnant,” she breathed and Emerie’s eyes widened as she too caught the scent.

Nesta wasn’t sure what to say, terrified to confirm or deny the life growing inside her.

A message was sent to Velaris and within minutes, Feyre and Madja had winnowed into the camps.

It took the healer less than a few minutes to confirm the small life within her.

“You’re coming back to Velaris,” Feyre said, as Madja washed her hands and went to tend to the badly wounded from the previous battle.

“No,” Nesta protested, donning her leathers, as she did every day. “I’m leading my sisters.”

“Gwen and Emerie can take the lead,” Feyre protested. “They are just as skilled and know what they’re doing-.”

“I can’t just leave them-.”

“You’re pregnant!” Feyre yelled, and the look of pure panic on her youngest sister’s face had Nesta stopping in her tracks. The High Lady of the Night Court’s voice turned into a broken whisper as she begged, “Please, think this through.”

Nesta’s jaw hardened as she lifted her chin, doing everything she could to keep herself from shaking her head. “Do you expect Cassian to come back to Velaris? To sit idly while our troops battle to protect Prythian?”

“I expect him to do his duty,” Feyre said, her tone firm. “Just as I expect you to do yours.”

Her words were clear.

Nesta’s duty - not as a soldier, but as a mother. 

She shook her head, her eyes remaining on her sister’s. “He’ll miss it.”

It. Everything. All of it. Her pregnancy, the child growing inside of her, possibly even the birth of their child.

The gut-wrenching thought was overwhelming. 

Nesta fell back against the bed, sitting and letting her head fall into her hands, her nerves shot. She needed to talk to Cassian, needed to sort it out.

“Nesta.”

Her eyes shot to Feyre’s, the eyes identical to her own. Except her youngest sister’s eyes held fear. Fear for her safety, the safety of her unborn niece or nephew. 

With a sigh, Nesta let her eyes fall shut and nodded. She dragged a hand down her face, and said, “I need to meet with Gwyn and Em. I need to plan with them, figure out how to rework the front line-.”

“They can handle it.”

The voice came from behind her and she turned to find Azriel stepping through the tent.

Nesta’s eyes softened as she took in her friend, one of the warriors who had trained her into who she was today.

“They had the same training you did,” he said, coming to stand next to her sister. “I’ll stay here for a couple weeks, but you can’t stay. It’s not safe for you. Or for the baby.”

Nesta lifted a brow. 

Azriel shrugged, crossing his arms. “If you think I’m letting you stay here during this-.”

“Since when do you order me around, Shadowsinger?” Nesta asked, meaning it as a joke, but finding it hard to dismiss the tension from her tone. 

Azriel could tell.

He could always tell. His eyes softened, although his frame remained rigid. “As soon as Cassian arrives, I’ll winnow him to you.”

We’re in the middle of a gods-damned war! Nesta wanted to scream. And yet, she was conflicted. She knew what she had to do, knew what this new duty entailed, knew what her next step would be, even if she didn’t fully like the idea.

She never backed down from battle, from war, from anything.

But she would not endanger her child, no matter how guilty it made her feel.

With a resigned sigh, Nesta nodded and reached her hand out towards her sister. Before Feyre took her hand, she looked at Azriel, unable to stop the tear that had finally slid down her cheek. “Tell them I’m sorry,” she breathed.

His smile was gentle, but even she had a hard time believing him as he said, “You have no reason to be.”

With that she was winnowed away, back to Velaris, as far from the small camp on the mortal lands as she could be. Far from her soul-bonded sisters, and fellow warriors. Far from the raging battles she’d grown to know as a part of her.

As soon as Cassian touched down in the ramshackle camp, he knew something wasn’t right. None of the Valkyrie would look at him and the bond… It was near silent.

He hurried for her tent, not even remembering what the summons he’d received had said, not that he’d read it all too carefully. He’d been asked to get to the mortal realm as fast as he could and after leaving his tent, he found the first Fae he knew that could winnow.

It had only been minutes since that small note had appeared from Rhysand, and he burst into the tent and found not his mate, but his brother.

“What the fuck is going on, Az?”

His voice held none of the joking tone it usually did when he spoke with the shadowsinger, but-.

He could scent her, she’d been here only a few moments before. But something was…off.

Words barely audible, a deathly quiet, terrified whisper, he breathed, “Where is Nesta?”

Without a word, Azriel held out his scarred hand.

Cassian took it and then they were tumbling through space and time and he had no idea where they were going to end up.

Where was Nesta? Where was his mate?

When they appeared in the atrium of the river house, Cassian looked around. “I don’t understand.”

“Your mate is waiting for you,” Azriel replied, gesturing towards their room, and it was then Cassian noted the hint of a smile on his face.

And like that, he was gone, disappearing into shadows and mist as if he hadn’t even been standing before him.

The house was quiet and Cassian took the stairs two at a time, hurrying down the long hallway until he approached their closed bedroom door.

He debated on knocking, not sure what he’d find on the other side, but with a shaking hand, he turned the knob and stepped inside.

Nesta was inside the attached bathroom, wearing the pants of her leathers, though the intricate jacket was draped across the end of the bed. She wore a thin, white shirt, which showed off her toned arms. He couldn’t see any discernible wounds on her, but was still hesitant as he took a step into the bathroom.

She’d been so lost in her own thoughts that she hadn’t heard him come in, but suddenly, he appeared in the mirror behind her, and the force of her emotions hit her all at once.

She was in his arms instantly, breathing in his scent with an eagerness she hadn’t felt since their last encounter. Neither of them said a word as their clothes hit the floor, but the second Cassian’s lips met her neck, all of his, his primal instincts faded and he swept back into reality the moment he found himself focusing on her scent.

The change in it.

His chest heaved as he pulled back and met her tearful gaze. 

“How long have you known?” he asked, quietly. 

She shook her head, slowly. The soft chuckle was involuntary. “Not even an hour.”

“That’s why you’re here,” he said, quietly.

It wasn’t a question, but Nesta nodded, even as she ignored the urge to roll her eyes. “High Lady’s orders.”

Lifting her up in his arms, he carried her to the bed, his carnal instincts long forgotten, and he laid down next to her. Cassian’s hand hovered over her stomach, a small, barely discernible bump there, hardly able to believe what was in front of him.

“The battle against Rask’s forces,” he said, voice quiet. “You hadn’t been taking your tonic?”

Sniffling, she shook her head and gently pressed his hand the rest of the way to her skin, to her belly. “It hadn’t been on my mind,” she admitted.

Cassian was quiet for a moment before he huffed a laugh, his fingers moving in a slow, clockwise rotation over her abdomen. “A baby.”

Nesta nodded, watching him. “It’s not a good time.”

“Is there ever a good time?” Cassian muttered, looking up at her. “The reality of our world doesn’t grant us much peace.” 

“Is it even fair to bring a child into this world?” Nesta whispered.

Cassian’s eyes softened, although they held no judgement. “I thought you wanted children.”

“I did,” she said, then followed it quickly with, “I do. It’s just… We’re in the middle of war, Cass.” 

“War will end,” he promised, his eyes growing soft. “Soon.”

She closed her eyes, gently pressing her forehead against his, and the two of them laid there, quietly basking in the happiness of the little miracle they’d created. Of the child they would soon bring into this world.

Cassian couldn’t stay long, only able to stay the night and have breakfast with his family. Azriel was still monitoring the front at the mortal lands, but the rest of his family was there. There was no shield to be put up to mask Nesta’s scent, so the second Elain walked into the vast dining room and found her eldest sister, she froze. And as soon as she scented the change, she was in motion. Her arms were around Nesta in a flash, the sound coming from her reminiscent of a mix of a sob and laugh.

But as soon as breakfast had been cleared away, after Nyx had woken from his nap, Rhysand and Cassian stepped out into the lush yard. With a final surge of love and pride down the bond, they vanished into the air, back to the Illyrian front.

~~~~~~~~~~

“Breathe.”

Nesta shot her youngest sister and High Lady a look of pure hatred. Feyre only rolled her eyes and held her sister’s hand a little bit tighter. 

“What the fuck do you think I’m doing?” Nesta hissed, although her entire body was rigid and clenched. 

Labor was no joke. Nesta had watched her mother birth two more children after her, and even though she was too young to remember, she never forgot the horrid screams that came from her mother’s bedroom.

Nuala, Cerridwen, and Elain all hovered around the bed, keeping Nesta as comfortable as possible until Madja arrived.

And until her mate arrived.

Since she’d found out, it had been the longest nine months of her life, only seeing Cassian in small moments when he could leave the bloodshed of battle. Once it was apparent her water had broken, Rhys had winnowed to the location he’d known Cassian’s camp had been last, only to find it hastily packed and abandoned. The sounds of battle weren’t far off, but Rhys could sense the death without moving closer.

He’d tried to mentally reach Cassian, but found his shields were locked in place, as he often did during a bloody battle. Azriel, however, was by his side in an instant. “What is it?”

He could smell the blood of both mortal men and the fae on his brother, not daring to look into his mind to see who all he’d had to cut down in battle. “Nesta’s in labor.”

A sharp swallow was the only reaction Azriel allowed his High Lord to see. He said, “He won’t leave the battle, you know that.”

He would, Rhys thought, if he used his power, his title of High Lord to command him. But he would never do that, especially asking him to abandon his post during a battle. Rhys only nodded. “I know. Just… As soon as it dies down, as soon as he comes back to himself, get him to Velaris.”

Azriel nodded, his orders received,  and he was gone, a misting, swirling shadow folding back into the fray.

It was hours before the violence subsided, hours before Cassian finally removed his helmet, surveying the carnage and death that surrounded him. He felt Azriel’s presence, rather than saw him appear, and turned to his brother, expecting a report of who all had been lost.

The look on his face told him otherwise.

“What.”

He still wasn’t fully back to himself yet, though he tried. He still wore the mask of the Commander, the male who had slaughtered so many, to protect his people, Enalius reborn.

Azriel’s words were quiet, but urgent. “It’s time.”

Cassian blinked, not understanding what his brother was saying.

And then he dropped his shields and everything from the other end of the bond slammed into him with a force so strong her face physically staggered back a step.

Labor.

Nesta was in labor.

His child was about to enter the world and he’d been so lost in his battle lust that he’d blocked her out.

“How long?” He asked, eyes going wide.

Azriel shook his head. “I’m not sure. At least four hours.”

Swallowing hard, Cassian looked around at the death and destruction around him. He looked down at the blood and gore that coated his hands and his leathers. He couldn’t abandon his troops after a battle, but his mate…

His child…

There was no question.

Azriel extended his hand and Cassian took it, and a second later, there was nothing but shadows left behind.

*****************

“Nesta, you’re going to have to start pushing,” Elain said, gently, brushing the loose, sweaty strands of hair off of Nesta’s forehead.

“No,” she gritted out, her teeth clenched together. “I can’t. Not until-.” Another wave of blinding pain passed through her and the scream that tore from her was pure agony. Once she could think again, speak again, she breathed, “Not until Cassian is here.”

“That’s not in your control, I’m afraid,” Madja chimed in from the foot of the bed. “Baby will come when baby comes, and baby is ready.”

“Not unless I say so,” Nesta spat, just before another scream flew from her throat. “Fuck!”

“Baby’s coming,” Madja said, remaining perfectly calm as she put herself into position. With Nesta’s hand in Elain’s, and her other in Feyre’s, she had no choice but to push. 

Madja was right.

Baby wasn’t waiting.

There was a thundering on the stairs, and heavy footsteps approached the door before it flew open.

A sob tore from Nesta as Cassian appeared in the doorway, his eyes wide, taking in the scene before him.

“Nes,” he breathed, taking a few steps towards her, but Feyre stepped in front of him.

“You can’t be in here,” she said, firmly.

His eyes narrowed. “Like hell, I can’t.”

“The High Lady is correct,” Madja chimed in, turning back to glance at him. “You are…covered in filth, and Lady Nesta cannot chance an infection.”

“He’s my mate,” she breathed, panting slightly from the pain, the urge to push.

“He’s covered in blood, Nesta,” Feyre said, turning back to look at her.

“We do not have time to wait for him to bathe and return,” Madja said, looking under the blanket draped across Nesta’s lap, to provide what modesty she could. “The baby is ready, my lady. It’s time.”

A firm hand wrapped around Cassian’s arm and began to tug him towards the door. He turned to find Rhysand when he was out in the hall and the door was shut on a phantom wind.

It was only a few seconds before he heard a sob and a yell full of anguish and suffering.

The sound made him want to vomit.

“Bath is ready,” Rhysand said, his hand still around Cassian’s arm. “Bathe, go back. Until then, she’s in good hands.”

“I’m missing it,” Cassian breathed, but before he could form a cohesive thought, he was being shoved into a tub full of warm water. 

Nuala and Cerridwen had stripped him down and were scrubbing his skin raw in a matter of seconds. Cassian couldn’t focus, though, could hardly feel as they cleansed the blood and gore and carnage from his skin. 

All he could focus on was Nesta’s screaming from upstairs. 

Cassian helped them scrub his massive frame, and between the three of them they washed the remains of battle from the Commander until the lukewarm bath water turned pink from the blood of his enemies and his fallen comrades. 

As soon as he was clean, the wraiths vanished, allowing him to dry off and redress himself, a tunic and pants left on the counter of the bathroom. Every scream from his wife had him flinching, every cry and overwhelming wave of pain reaching him down the bond now that his shields had been fully dropped.

But suddenly, the screams stopped. Suddenly, love and adoration was all he could feel from Nesta, and he threw open the door and was hurrying up the stairs again, his bare feet padding against the carpet.

The door was slightly open, cracked just a hair, and he could hear quiet murmuring from inside. Hesitantly, he reached out and pushed the door open.

He froze, his body growing completely still as he took in the sight before him. Nesta laid in the bed, her chest heaving, silent tears streaming down her cheeks. Elain and Feyre were both smiling, crying themselves, as they looked to the foot of the bed, where Madja was holding the smallest of babes.

A baby.

Nesta’s baby.

His baby.

The gentlest of cries filled the silence. 

Madja chuckled, softly, as she cut the umbilical cord and laid the baby on the softest of towels to clean her up.

Her.

He had a daughter.

“Cass?”

Cassian’s eyes drifted to Nesta and his vision blurred.

He didn’t consciously tell his body to move, didn’t remember asking his feet to carry him across the room, but before he knew it, he was kneeling by the bed, pressing his forehead against hers.

“You did so good, sweetheart,” he whispered, the tears already streaming down his cheeks. “You did so, so good.”

“Lord Cassian.”

He pressed a kiss to Nesta’s forehead, but moved back, allowing Madja to lay the small bundle in Nesta’s arms. Her tiny wings were loosely tucked inside the blanket she was wrapped in.

Nesta’s eyes filled with tears again as she looked down at the precious baby in her arms. “She’s beautiful.”

Silently, Nesta’s sisters and the healer left them alone, to spend a few moments last as a family.

The tiny baby began to fuss and Nesta softly brushed a finger along her cheek, gently shushing her.

She calmed immediately.

“She looks like you,” Cassian whispered, staring at his daughter in awe. “Has your nose. Your lips.”

“Your skin,” Nesta breathed. “And that unruly, curly hair of yours.” 

Cassian huffed a laugh. True enough, little tufts of dark curls covered her head. “She’s perfect.” 

Nesta didn’t reply. She simply swept her thumb over their daughter’s soft cheek. 

“I’m sorry I wasn’t here,” Cassian said, at last. “I… I’m sorry I missed it, that I wasn’t here for you.”

“You’re here now,” she murmured, looking up at him. “You’re here and that’s all that matters.”

With a soft smile, Cassian wiped a wayward tear from her cheek and pressed his lips to hers.

Beaming up at him, Nesta whispered, “Hold her.”

He froze up a little, only having held Nyx a handful times when he was a baby. Babies were fragile and he was…

Well, there was a reason both Nesta and Amren had always called him a brute.

“It’s okay,” Nesta breathed, sensing his hesitation.

He nodded and sat down on the bed next to her. She transferred the tiny bundle to him and her eyes opened almost as soon as she settled in his arms.

Eyes like the storm gazed up at him and Cassian had never felt so much love in his heart.

He swallowed roughly, brushing a gentle thumb across her cheek. He looked up at Nesta. “Have you thought of a name?”

She smiled, fondly, softly. “Brenna.”

“Brenna,” Cassian repeated. “I like Brenna.” 

“I’ve been holding onto that name for a while,” Nesta said, quietly.

Cassian chuckled. “I can tell. There was no hesitation.”

Nesta smiled as her head fell against Cassian’s shoulder. She looked down at her daughter. “Brenna felt right.” 

After pressing a kiss to the top of Nesta’s head, Cassian gazed down at their daughter. “She’s… she’s perfect.”

“She is,” Nesta replied, a gentle yawn breaking through her words.

Cassian scooted closer on the bed, careful not to jostle their daughter who had settled back into a deep sleep of her own. He wrapped an arm around Nesta’s shoulders, and she wrapped herself around him as best she could.

In that moment, Cassian couldn’t imagine anything else mattering in this world. No lands, no wars, no hidden troves beneath the sea. In his arms, his wife and his daughter, were the most precious treasures he had ever received.

[castiels-majestic-wings]

Sixth Sense - Chapter 2

Paring: Loki x Female!Reader

Word Count: 2,165

Warnings: None

Posted: 31/12/2020

Thor had taken Loki to Odin, in Asgard. But you had managed to convince him to at least ask Odin if you can go in and try to get a read on his- Loki’s aura. You were waiting for his answer. He said he would come back. And if Odin permitted you to see him- read him, maybe even question him. You could find out why Loki did what he did. Maybe even change his view of things, get him to be the brother Thor had once told you about.

You’ve been waiting for a long time. It’s been three weeks since Thor went back to Asgard. You had given up, not expecting him to return. But that’s when you saw the Bifrost on your balcony appear. But it disappeared just as quickly, only there was Thor, making his way inside, his mission included your presence.

“Y/N, it has been a while, my friend.” he extended his arms with a smile before engulfing me in a hug. You pulled away smiling.

“It hasn’t been that long, not even a whole month” You informed.

“Time flows differently in Asgard”

“I know, I know. So how was the trip? What was Loki’s punishment?” Curiosity filled your voice.

“Odin, my father. He sent my brother to prison for eternity.” Your eyes fell, you didn’t know why you felt concerned about him, nor why you felt compassion. You were worried about him. Aura’s can show a lot of things about a person, and his- his was a spiral of emotions. Anger, hatred, fear and betrayal. There was no sign of any positive emotions when you first read him at the tower.

“But, if made it so you can go speak to Loki, but only if you’re under my supervision.”

“You got Odin to agree? How?! I was sure he would decline”

“I explained that you could read him, find out what happened to the brother I once knew.”

“When do you want me to go?”

“As soon as you can, my father doesn’t take lightly to tardiness” A giggle escaped your lips.

“Okay, hold on let me sort some last-minute things and ill be right with you.” You had sorted through the last of your current mission report and packed a few small things in a backpack before making your way back to Thor.

“Okay, I think I’m ready” you readjusted your backpack while walking to the balcony, Thor not far behind.

“You might want to hold on” Giving him a questioning glance you held on to his waist. “Heimdall, bring us up” After a couple of seconds the Bifrost surrounded you. You shut your eyes in fear as you could no longer feel the floor. You slowly opened your eyes, you were scared but glad you did. The Bifrost was beautiful. A rainbow of colour surrounded you before you felt the floor at your feet again. You gathered your surroundings before releasing your grip on Thor. In front of you stood a man, removing his sword from the device in the middle of the room.

“Welcome to Asgard Y/N”

“You know my name? Heimdall knows my name!” You grabbed Thor’s sleeve in excitement.

“Of course, I see everything, I know everything within the nine realms.”

“Everything? Does that mean you see whenever someone is trying to conceive a child?” Your bluntness shocked the men around you. “What? I’m genuinely curious, he’s seen everyone naked!” Heimdall coughed into his fist.

“Uhm, no, I choose not to watch anything deemed inappropriate.” He clarified.

“Okay, that’s calmed me down, I was worried for a minute there.” Heimdall smiled, obviously used to your humour after watching over you for so many years. Thor had escorted you to Odin so he could speak to you personally. To say you were nervous was an understatement. You didn’t know how to hold a conversation with a normal person let alone a king. The walk there seemed long as if you had walked for hours. But in reality, it was only 5 minutes.

As you entered the palace you noticed how tight security was. Something must have happened here before Loki trie to attack us on earth. Thor stopped suddenly causing me to halt next to him. I looked up suddenly frozen, Odin’s presence, it was excruciating.

You knew you couldn’t say anything rash, you couldn’t question him either. You had never met someone with such a powerful presence before. You bowed without a second thought. I kept my position until Thor began to speak.

“Father, this is the Midgardian I informed you of. She holds incredible abilities, she might be the key to helping Loki” Thor's voice was followed by silence.

“And what makes you think she is capable of helping Loki” Odin's voice boomed through the halls, creating an echo that made me flinch.

“She explained her thoughts on his actions without even speaking to him. I believe she will be a great asset”

“I already permitted you to bring her here, she is under your supervision, Thor. If anything were to happen to, her blood is on your hands”

“Yes, Father. Thank you.” Thor bowed his head and turned, signalling me to do the same. Not allowing him to think you were a coward, you spoke.

“Thank you, Your Majesty, I shall try my best to make Loki the son you once knew. Please, put your faith in me. I will not fail!”

“Make sure you do not fail me, otherwise Loki will be the least of your troubles.” Odin snarled, obviously displeased with your presence.

“Yes of course” A small smile made it to your face before you bowed once more, taking your leave. Thor had escorted you to the prisons. Loki’s cell was to the left of the stairway as you entered. Loki had noticed you straight away.

“Brother! My my, what do we have here. The Midgardian that stayed hidden.” The smirk on his face was mischievous, much like his personality. The God of Mischief. You stood in front of his cell with Thor to your right.

“I’m a tactician I stay on the sidelines.” You were unable to place the confidence that took over your body, but you could bite back.

“Oh, but you’re much more than that.” Loki placed his forearm on the forcefield leaning on it. “You’re different, definitely Midgardian, but how you read me without my speaking was glorious.”

“Good so you know why I’m here.” His smirk fell off his face. “Don’t bother trying to hurt me, Thor will not leave my side. You won’t be able to attack me.” He lowered his arm and went to sit down on the bench in the corner. Thor opened the forcefield and entered, holding it open enough for me to walk inside. Loki glared at me, not wanting his deepest secrets revealed, by a Midgardian no less. You went to walk to Loki but was stopped by Thor’s grip on your arm.

“Thor, I’ll be fine, but if you want me to get a deep reading I need to get closer to him” I placed my hand above his as he loosened his grip. He tensed ready for any trick Loki might try. I walked in front of Loki and grabbed a chair to sit face to face.

“There’s a darkness in you that isn’t your own. It’s fighting your goodness, your natural aura.”

“Aura? There is no such thing as being able to see or read auras” Ignoring his comment you continued to stare at him, not losing eye contact.

“The colours, you’re naturally drawn to them. Greens and gold. There’s a hint of blue hidden within the darkness. That colour makes you sad, angry, frustrated. Why do you dislike blue so much” His eyes changed, no longer were they sarcastic and mischievous, but sad and vulnerable.

“Is it your heritage? Thor told me you were adopted. But still, you have a small similarity to Thor’s aura, you’re still Asgardian.” Loki saw in your eyes that you were nothing but truthful. Not one word that left your lips was a lie.

“What? No, that can’t be-”

“Why not?”

“I’m a Frost Giant, Odin stole me from Jotunheim as a Trophy, a way to bargain his way through if the Jotuns attacked once more.”

“Then if frost giants are blue, why aren’t you?”

“Odin altered my appearance when he found- when he took me”

“But you are Asgardian, Odin’s blood flows in your veins”

“I am not his son!”

“No. Not a son, but a relative of some kind.”

“How can you tell? You read auras?” Curiosity filled the room.

“People of the same blood give similar auras.”

“How can you be so sure?” Thor was eager to know, after finding out that Loki wasn’t his brother it broke him. If there was a chance that they were related- even distantly, he would take it.

“I’ve seen it, because of Clint. And his family”

“So Loki isn’t my brother? But a relative?”

“Yes, I can’t say what exactly but I could ask Odin. He might know something about this”

“Are you sure?”

“Positive-” I looked up at Thor. “I must speak to your father, alone.” You urged. Both Thor and Loki looked your direction. Both equally as confused and curious.

“Father does not allow just anyone to be alone with him.”

“I’m not just anyone” A smirk appeared on your face, much like Loki's when he knows- thinks he's won. “Let’s go have a chat with the Allfather” You stood from your position, Thor following before opening the cell. After you exited Loki looked at you curiously, with a hint of hope in his eyes.

“I will find out the Truth for you- even if I can’t tell you myself” He could tell you were sincere. Why would anyone be willing to do this for him? It intrigued him. He kept his gaze on you until he could no longer see your form. As you entered the great hall you had asked Thor to wait outside. Odin looked at you curiously seeing you make your way towards him alone.

“Odin, I must speak with you privately.”

“Privately? No one shall speak to me privately unless its Frigga or Thor”

“It’s about Loki’s origin. Unless you want the guards to know his birth mother, I suggest we have our privacy.” Odin’s eye widened, you hit a nerve. He signalled the guards to leave, and it stayed silent until he knew no one could hear us.

“What do you know Midguardian?”

“I know that Loki- even if his father is a frost giant, his mother was Asgardian. How she is related to you I’m not sure. But its royal blood- your blood.”

“How did you find this information?”

“Thor told you that I read auras correct?” Odin nodded, deeming the silence necessary. “Well families, that share the same blood have similar auras. And his aura- his Asgardian aura, is similar to Thor’s and your own. What can you tell me?”

“Who his mother is doesn’t matter”

“I assume she’s either dangerous or dead. Or both.” Odin seemed uneasy.

“I won’t tell either of them. Any information you tell me right now I won’t tell Thor or Loki”

“And why my dear, should I trust you”

“If you want me to clear his darkness, I must know everything”

“Not a word, to anyone other than myself”

“You have my word.” He sighed, composing himself. He hadn’t spoken about her in millennia, nor had he forgotten her.

“My daughter, Hela”

“You have a daughter?”

“Yes, My firstborn”

“So Loki he’s- he’s your grandson?”

“Yes.”

“That’s why you won’t kill him? He might be frost giant, but he is still of your blood” Odin was breaking. His shell was slowly opening.

“Does Frigga know?”

“No”

“How could you hide that from her? She- Her daughter has a son!”

“With a frost giant! She was already trying to overthrow the kingdom. Working with the frost giants- then she became pregnant with Lafeys child” He growled, angered by the memory.

“I see. Now that I know, I should be able to get a better read of your grandson.”

“You must not tell anyone of what we just spoke”

“I gave my word. I shall not tell a soul.”

“Leave” He ordered. And you had no reason to decline. You left the grand hall telling the guards that they could return to their post. Your figure leaned against the wall, your nerves catching up, making your breath heavy and unstable. You slid to the ground, seeing Thor approach you.

“Y/N? Are you alright?”

“Yes- My nerves just caught up with me that’s all. Plus, your father is a scary man” A giggle escaped your lips making Thor smile, happy to know that you were okay. How were you going to keep this secret you didn’t know. But you had to- you gave your word. And you’ll be damned if you broke it.

Taglist: @lovermrjokerr @lucywrites02 @lord-byron

[treatian]

The Chronicles of the Dark One:  Breaking the Curse

Chapter 6: Girl of Ash

The hardest thing about all of this was locking up the shop and going home each night. Such a simple thing to anyone still living on their loop, but for someone who still had their memories, for him in particular, each night it was a struggle to get into his car and drive back to his home, instead of bolting for the town line. He wanted to go. He'd wanted to drive out there and cross the line every night since he got his memories back. Some nights he even thought he would finally break down and do it. But he fought that temptation. Over and over again, always the same routine, his stomach always in knots by the time he pulled up to his house…it was nearly unbearable.

He was the Dark One. His instinct was to test the Curse, to see if maybe it had weakened enough to make a single exception and let him through the border to go and find Baelfire. Fortunately, his brains always managed to overrule that instinct. His instinct was to test the Curse, but his mind reminded him that there was no need. He knew this Curse. He'd spent so much of his life focusing on it that he probably knew more about it than the woman who had foolishly cast it for him. He knew that while there were small signs of weakness in it now that the Savior had arrived, the weakness he needed was too big to be considered small. Which meant he was still trapped here. He could drive out there, try and cross the town line, but he knew he'd fail. He'd have car trouble, or an accident, or get some important call last minute to summon him back. Silly as something like that seemed, even though he had his memories, he was confident that the Curse would keep him here. Just like it seemed to be keeping Emma Swan here.

She'd been in town now for nearly two weeks. Aside from the original series of events she'd brought with her-his memories, time moving, David's awakening-things had been rather dull for the last few weeks. Emma had moved in with none other than her mother not long ago, and they were still working on settling in. The poor girl had slept in her car long enough after being kicked out of Granny's. He was happy to see that she'd chosen to move in with Mary Margaret. He was sure something would come of that someday, but for now, it just seemed to be two women, who appeared to be the same age, living as roommates. Other than the fact that she had no idea who she was really living with, it seemed to be a good arrangement. But of course, Mary Margaret wasn't the only one who was having difficulty remembering things.

He didn't need Dove to get an update on David Nolan, just a trip to Granny's. The whole damn town knew about him and talked about it constantly. He'd woken up, but he had no memories. Nothing. The town talked on and on about how his wife went to his bedside every day at visiting hours with stacks, heaps of pictures in an effort to jog his memory. So far, nothing. It was amnesia, the doctors claimed. He wasn't so sure. His theory was that it was a part of the Curse Regina hadn't planned for. She'd meant for him to spend his entire life in that coma, frozen in time, and therefore hadn't thought to give him memories. But now that he was awake and walking around, he certainly didn't have memories of before and no life to speak of here. He couldn't think of a worse fate. But fortunately, the doctors and Mary Margaret had befriended him and were providing him support. He cared little for any of it other than Mary Margaret being there for him.

It could be good. It could be excellent. He wasn't willing to say it was part of the Curse breaking, but he certainly believed it could help the Curse break. After all, the last time David and Mary Margaret had been together in Storybrooke, their love had woken each other up. If it had worked then, it could work again. And who knew what two more people, two adults, his own grandparents, supporting Henry, could do for the good of breaking the Curse. It was potentially a life-changing development, but one that was in its infancy. Only time would tell if it went anywhere.

There had been a few more minor incidents between Emma and Regina, as it could be expected, but nothing major or catastrophic. Archie and Mary Margaret were helping Emma to find safe times to meet with Henry, but he was nearly certain that Regina knew anyway. For a town that contained an entire realm, plus a few others from distant realms, it was the epitome of a small town. If he knew that Emma and Henry were spending time together without needing to be told by Dove, he assumed Regina knew. Why she was still allowing it, that was the real question?

But a question to solved later, not until after the Curse broke, and she regretted that decision. It would happen, he assured himself. The day would come, sometime soon, when the Curse wasn't just weakened but broken, and then he'd get back to his Baelfire. How…he wasn't entirely sure, but he'd get to him. In the Enchanted Forest, he'd measured his time left in decades, then years, then months, now there was the possibility that he was down to days. He just had to remember that.

And so he did, as he pocketed his gun at the end of the day, grabbed his car keys, checked for any other messages from Dove, then walked out to the front of the shop. Resigned to go home, he flipped the sign to "closed," turned off the lights, left the shop, and-

Paused.

As he turned to lock the door, he thought he might have heard something. Something around back? A scuffle?

He smirked a little as he turned his attention back to the door and locked it. It wouldn't be the first time a couple of raccoons got into a fight in that back alley. That was probably all he was hearing.

Until he got halfway down the street to his car and heard the sound of glass breaking. Not glass bottles toppling over or hitting a trash can. It was the sound of a window shattering. Irritated enough from the day, he sighed as he turned around, part of him already expecting the sight that met him. Someone had just closed the side door to his shop after entering. The small rectangular window by the handle had been broken. A break-in. Though he had false memories of them happening when he was a younger man, he knew that he'd never once had one of those in all his time here in Storybrooke. Everyone was too afraid of him to attempt such a silly thing.

He was tired and irritated, and so he removed his phone from his pocket, content to call 911 and sit in his car until the police handled it and he pressed so many charges it made the thief's head spin. But fucking 911! All he got was an answering service at the station, a recorded voice that told him to stay on the line for emergencies. A ridiculous notion. One would think if he was calling 911, it was a fucking emergency! Unless, of course, the Evil Queen was having a literal fucking emergency of her own, and the sheriff was too busy to do his damn job.

He'd been irritated before; now, he was downright angry. He left a curt message for the sheriff to get to his shop when he was not otherwise engaged and checked the gun in his pocket before hobbling around to the back door. He checked the windows as he went. There was a shadow moving around inside but no sounds that he could hear. It was one person. A rather large individual to be such a skilled cat burglar. Fortunately for him, he knew every inch of his shop, every place the floors creaked, everywhere the door squeaked.

Gun out, he let himself in quietly through the back door. His eyes swept over the familiar space finding every appropriate shadow. No motion whatsoever. He ventured further into the store, careful with every cane and footfall. At the threshold to the showroom, he glanced around. More familiar shadows, but one small motion that didn't belong. He smirked as he took in the sight before him. It wasn't a large burglar, just a pregnant woman, one who was so absorbed in his safe she didn't appear to even notice he was there. Ashley Boyd, formerly known as Ella, famously known as Cinderella. He pocketed the gun, finding no real threat as he watched her eye his property. His heart hitched when he remembered that he'd stored the dagger in that safe, but then calmed again when he realized that the safe also contained the contract she'd signed to give her baby away for adoption. An adoption that was never finalized, something Mr. Gold had always put off in the Curse. Coincidence…he doubted it. Just as he doubted that the girl breaking into his store now wasn't a coincidence. Someone was off their loop, and given the possibilities, this was the best situation of them all.

"A precious debt from a woman of ash will find the boy of fire…"

He'd spent so much time in the Enchanted Forest focusing on the Seer's prophecy he could practically hear it now. His heart skipped a beat at the thought of it. Wasn't this an interesting and yet highly anticipated turn of events?

"Ashley. What are you doing?" he questioned, startling the girl so that she jumped to face him.

He expected her to cower. She hadn't been much of anything back home, a little slip of a thing so in need of her Prince to save her. It would have been in her character for the girl to beg, maybe even plead and explain her presence. But he'd forgotten that no one here was who they'd been before. And instead, she only grit her teeth together the closer he got.

"Changing my life!" she shouted.

He watched her arm move up as if to slap him, but the blow never came. Instead, his eyes exploded in pain as she sprayed something into them that burned. He stumbled backward into his shelves, screaming as he tried to get it out. But he'd dropped his cane, and pain roared to life in his shattered ankle. He heard items tumble around him as he tried to catch his weight, but his leg gave out instead. Over the pain in his eyes, there was the sensation of tumbling forward and then-

[delirious-comfort]

It is I, the one who doesn't sleep. I prompt you to write the hidden storyline regarding the DarkSwan arc. Give us all the swen feelings they should have given us

Fora moment it seems all time has stopped. One second, she's there, the next she'sgone. And it's that moment right after Emma disappears from their view thattime seems frozen.

Asplit second is all it takes.

Asplit second to understand what Emma just did.

Asplit second to feel the punch to her gut because for the first time itwasn't she herself who had to sacrifice everything.

Asplit second to become aware that Emma is no longer tied to this realm.

Asplit second where it suddenly hurts to breathe.

Asplit second to once again question every choice she's ever made.

Theone-handed pirate is the first to take her second away by reaching for thedagger and it makes her fume. It's David who pulls him back and keeps him inplace.

"Shedid that for you," is the first sentence uttered and she has stop herselffrom snarling at Snow. Because she understands Snow is hurting, but more sobecause she's isn't quite sure whether Snow's tone was one of accusation oramazement.

Shemakes a move for the dagger and growls when firm arms are wrapped around her.His arms. Her happy ending.

Butif he is, why does she feel so incredibly sad deep inside?

--

Henrytells her that he has complete faith in her. Her little prince who isn't solittle anymore. Soon he'll be off on his own adventures and it scares her todeath. She's not quite sure she's ready to let him go. Because if she does,what does she have left?

--

It'sDavid who hands her dagger.

"Findher."

"Iwill."

"Wecan come with you."

Butshe shakes her head. They have a baby and a grandchild to look after whileshe's gone.

Snowstill hasn't said another word to her. She sits in the rocking chair in littleNeal's room and just stares ahead.

"Iwill find her," Regina offers.

Snownods but it isn't enough.

"No,"Regina says, crouching down and looks her in the eye. "I will find Emma. Iwill bring her home to you. Unharmed. I promise."

It'sa promise she shouldn't make, but it's one Snow needs to hear. It's the onlyconsolation she offers to Snow before using the dagger to portal jump. Apparently,the dagger can do anything.

--

FindingEmma isn't nearly as difficult as she thought it would be. All she has to do isfollow a trail of destruction, deep into the forest. Whatever world this is, itseems abandoned and... lonely.

"I'mafraid to open my eyes."

"Howcome?"

"DoI look like Rumpelstiltskin? Scales and glitter all over?"

"Youlook like Emma. Questionable choice of outfit, but still Emma. Minimum amountof sparkling."

Emmaopens her eyes then and frowns. "I remember this."

It'san odd phrasing that makes Regina question everything. When she looks closer atEmma reality sets in. "How long has it been for you?"

"Twoyears, five months and thirteen days."

"Oh,Emma."

--

There'sa little cottage in the forest. A fire is crackling. Emma is asleep on somepelts on the floor. Curled up in a fetal position and it's the first time Reginaallows herself the tears that have been threatening to fall all along.

Thisisn't her happy ending. Not at all.

--

Theystay in the cottage for a couple of days. It's as if something dark is pullingat Emma with each day that passes. In the mornings when Regina wakes up for thefirst time Emma is never there. When she wakes up for the second time there arealways more pelts. Wolves. Bears.

Reginadoesn't ask and Emma doesn't tell.

--

It'sonly after Emma announces that she wants to see Henry that they get themselvesready for their return to Storybrooke.

Snowis beside herself with emotions. David is glad but cautious.

Henrycries and hugs Emma as if nothing has changed.

Killianis nowhere to be found.

--

Emmasleeps in Regina's basement. There is no bed, just pelts. Regina still doesn'task. The basement is entirely closed off from the outside world and it seems tosuit Emma just fine. When Regina turns on the light one Wednesday morning tobring her breakfast, Emma is pacing the floor.

"Ididn't mean to," she says, never looking up. "I didn't mean to, buthe just kept fucking sneezing. And at first turning him into a statue wasenough. But I could still hear it. In my mind. Over and over. But I didn't meanto."

"Whatdid you do?"

"Destroyedthe statue."

"Ithappens," Regina says, as casually as she can. It's strike one for Emma asfar as human casualties go. "Meet me at my vault in an hour. Can you dothat?"

Emmanods.

Snowcries when Regina tells her about Sneezy. She cries and tells Regina that herdaughter would never do such a thing. Regina tells her Emma is still herdaughter and if she gives up on her now, that's something they can never comeback from.

--

"Whyhere?"

"Angermanagement therapy," is all Regina says as she opens the door to hervault. Then another door into a room Emma has never seen before.

"Haveat it," Regina says.

Theroom is filled to the brim with stone statues.

"Realpeople?"

"Juststatues."

They'regone in under thirty minutes and when Emma falls to the ground she's crying.

"Ireally didn't mean to."

"Iknow."

--

Henrycomes home one day, refusing to speak to her. He's slamming doors left andright and when the slamming stops, she goes up to check on him.

"SHEHAD NO RIGHT."            

"Whathappened?"

"Shetook her heart. Made her say all the things I've been wanting to hear. But noneof it was real. How could she, mom?"

Reginaknows the answer. Knows Emma just wants to make up for the hurt she has caused.Is too far gone to understand she's only causing more harm. Henry hugs her andcries.

Thatnight, Emma doesn't come home at all.

--

Emma'ssense of time is completely gone. Regina is the first to notice.

"Twokills in five years, I guess that's not too bad for the Dark One, is it?"

It's only been three months since she sacrificed herself.

"Whyhim?"

"Hedidn't love you. He was supposed to be your happy ending and he didn't loveyou."

"Iwas the one who ended it, Emma. Why not kill me instead? You took Roland'sfather from him. He deserved better than that."

Emmashakes her head. Her hair is now white. Some days it sparkles. Some days itlooks like she's dipped it in baking powder. She's changing. It hurts Regina toher inner core.

"Itdoesn't matter," she says. "I asked him, and he said no."

"Heloved Roland."

"Hewas supposed to love you."

"Idon't want you here tonight."

Emmadoesn't come home for an entire month. It's only when she opens a portal andsends Roland home to a different realm, one where Robin is still alive and now a father to a son his wife lost in childbirth, that Emma can sleep in the basement once more.

--

WhenRegina comes home from a stressful day, Emma is standing in the kitchen withHenry. They're both laughing, signing along to music while cooking her dinner.It warms her heart. For one night, it's like the old Emma has reemerged. It'sonly when Henry goes to bed that Emma breaks down and drinks until her wordsslur.

"I'ma monster."

"You'reEmma. You're only a monster if you believe it."

"Doyou think I'm a monster?"

Reginashakes her head. "You're still Emma." It's mostly true.

Thatnight Emma falls asleep with her head on Regina's lap. Regina is softly humminga tune while stroking through long curls that seems a little blonder thatnight. She doesn't move from the couch all night. Soothes Emma every time shewakes up in tears, shushes the nightmares away and gently presses her lips toEmma's forehead when she murmurs that she really didn't mean to.

--

It'sRumple who talks to Emma. Who helps her balance the darkness with the lightthat's still inside of her. They bond in the weirdest of ways. It's as ifRumple is vicariously living through her and within Rumple, Emma finds someonewho truly understands what's happening inside of her.

"Itwas never meant to be her," he says to Regina.

"Iknow."

It'sperhaps one of a handful of things they fully agree on.

--

It'sa year after Emma's sacrifice that she comes out of the basement. She's wearingher red leather jacket and Regina can barely stifle a sob.

"MadamMayor."

"MissSwan."

"Ithink I need to talk to my mom."

Emmahasn't called Snow her mom since she's killed Sneezy. When she comes home thatnight, Regina doesn't ask. Emma still tells. She speaks and speaks until hervoice gives out. This time, there are no sparkles anywhere on her skin, nosparkles in her hair, just her eyes.

It'sthe most beautiful thing Regina has ever seen.

Thatnight, Emma sleeps in Regina's bed. They do nothing but cuddle but Regina canfeel the thumping of Emma's heart beating in sync with her own.

Andfor a moment, all seems well.

"Youdidn't give up on me."

"Icould never."

"Ithink I'm getting better."

Reginanods and presses a kiss on Emma's forehead.

"Ilike it when you do that," Emma admits. "Do it some more."

Andshe does.

Shekisses the Dark One.

Shekisses Emma.

Becausethey're the same person and Regina has never had to learn how to love themboth.

Shealready did from the moment Emma Swan stepped into her life.

Andit's Emma Swan who became her happy ending. It's been Emma Swan who was herhappy ending all along.

It'salways been all of Emma. 

[newgeht]

The Witching Hour

Geez guys... I got a little obsessed with Netflix original’s Sabrina the Teenage Witch and look what happened vkjsbre

Welp... I have managed to post for erzajane week, even if it’s a day late. The prompt being: Spellbound

Enjoy everyone!

Summary: No one said going to the prestigious witch academy, Fairy Tail, was going to be easy. Good thing for Erza, she never drifted through anything. Including the day she summoned a demon… Pairings: Erzjane, Erza & Lucy, Kagura & Lucy, Erza & Kagura Characters: Erza Scarlet, Kagura Mikazuchi, Lucy Heartfilia, Irene Belserion, Minerva Orlando, Sting Eucliffe, Mirajane Strauss Words: 7,320 Rating: M (for violence)   AO3 | FFNet

11:50 p.m.

The veil between the world of spirits and the realm of mortals was the thinnest on the day of Hallows Eve. Even thinner at the witching hour. For months Erza had planned on summoning a spirit for the academy. She would prove that once in for all she was better than Minerva Orlando. That witch was more like a bitch in her eyes, and Erza wasn't going to stand falling into her shadow any longer. Not today and the days following after.

The digital alarm clock on her bedside let her know it was five minutes before the stroke of the new day. She laid her head back on her pillow, still baffled by her idea. She had to do this, otherwise Erza wouldn't gain the recognition she wanted.

Still in dressed in her school uniform, she slipped from the sheets in her bed. Her dorm consisted of two other girls: Lucy Heartfilia and Kagura Milkovich. They were the best roommates she could ever ask for, giving her space and privacy when she asked. And they were never privy to her more personal life, especially Lucy.

The girl lay snoring and sprawled out on the middle mattress, yellow hair standing in tufts on her pillow case. A smile of fondness crept over her mouth as she picked pulled the coarse sheet over her slim frame. She made a note internally to check on Lucy's eating habits tomorrow, the blonde had a habit of passing meals when she was stressed.

Lucy was the top student of the witching academy. Erza was always proud of how the blonde managed to memorize spells and ingredients for summonings, but that was mostly due to her own photographic memory. Though it was hard for her to execute said spells, she wasn't as gifted as the rest of them (magic wise). Even without it, she was sure that the blonde would still be toppling over the rest of the girls.

But her other roommate was a completely different story. Her eyes passed over to Kagura, she looked almost dead. No, a sleeping beauty. Not one single strand of her obsidian hair was misplaced, the sheets tucked around her frame in a precise manner. Her face positively glowing in the moon's light, Erza wouldn't lie to say she hadn't crushed on her friend at some point.

Kagura only had one issue; she simply didn't want to play the devil's hand. Erza wished she had the courage of the girl. Had the gall to practice sword fighting techniques instead of working on her studies.

But as she looked closer, another ghastly shape sat at her bedside table. It was Kagura herself, the girl flipping through the pages of one of their textbooks. She must really be behind if she was using an astral projection to study. Without looking up she monotonously stated, "Go before I get the head mistress."

She could feel the tips of her ears get hot as she finally left the room. It was unnecessary to try to make any conversation, especially at this time. She had so much to do in such a little frame of time.

The head mistress was done checking rounds at this point in time and it was time for Erza to make her move. She didn't bother to wear shoes as she padded through the dormitories hallways. On the tile her heels would click and that would wake up her other classmates.

The only problem was that to get to the classrooms, she would have to sneak through the warlock's dorms. She absolutely dreaded this as she pushed through their double doors. Silently she closed those steely doors behind her tiptoeing down the rest of the hallway. But as she got closer to the next turn, she could hear hushed voices. Erza pushed herself up against the wall, taking in a very large breath.

She could feel her heart speed up, the voices not coming any closer. A very hushed whisper, someone haughtily whispered. "If it were up to me, I wouldn't even be here. You know what my father wants of me."

"I don't care, Minerva. You can decide whether or not you stay, you have a choice. I can't stand..." The rest of his words were incomprehensible, she needed to get closer. It was one she didn't recognize but she knew it was a man's voice. It held a doopy timbre, yet it was laced with compassion. Erza dared to inch closer to the corner, her ears straining to listen to what was happening.

"Hear thy truth and know thy tongue, lift my senses, sacrifice will be given later." As the last word fell from her mouth, Erza's ears picked up on so much more. Even the hard breathing of the couple right around the corner.

Inching closer to the corner Minerva's voice was taut. "Just get out of here Sting. Leave before the Mistress comes and finds you, I'm not going to save your ass-"

A door on the far end of the corridor slammed shut, Minerva's words strangled. "Leave now."

Their feet thundered against the wooden planks, coming right for Erza. She pressed herself up against the wall, closing her eyes shut. In the pocket of her suit coat, she frantically wrapped her fingers around a cool marble. Minerva's foot stepping right around the corner as she crushed it within the palm of her hand.

Her whole body flattened against the wall, Minerva rounding the corner with a great speed. Right behind her the teen she had called Sting. He had very fair locks that were brushed haphazardly to the side, his clothes resembling that of the mortal school down the road. Erza had so many questions but for now she couldn't make a peep, holding her breath as Minerva's hazel orbs stared right at her.

Her hawk eyes never acknowledging Erza's existence, only staring at the wall that lay behind her. She gave herself a pat on the back as the two retreated to the girl's dormitory, her nemesis's hand wrapped around the one of a mortal boy. Minerva never looked back once, dragging that boy to possible safety. He could get killed if he was found here.

But now Erza had a completely different problem -whoever was coming down the walkway. She could still only hear steady breathing, not a single footstep. She finally dared to take a step into the archway of the hallway, coming face to face with a color of hair she knew so well.

Red.

Her mother, otherwise known as the head mistress, stood right before her. Her brown eyes fleeting, a typical cruel grin set upon her face. Those orbs looking every which way, never discovering who was standing before her. Erza was frozen, afraid that the Marble of Baal hadn't worked; the chunks of marble in her pocket sending a chilly fray into her skin, her hair fleshing to stand on end.

She was scared to breath in the face of Irene Belserion, the woman standing tall with her infamous stave. The wood unruly and scathed by the marks of time, sashed down with tattered clothes of the witches and warlocks who had held it before her. Her mother huffed, the butt of her staff colliding with the floor. Sparks erupted from the hit, her lip curling.

"Your little tricks has fooled me, for now, but I will find you. Whether you be the best, banishment will be your fate." Her decree was final -Erza new that. But the eyes she shared with her mother had bored into her own, almost red as Irene stepped by. "Return to your bed and the devil may hold mercy."

Those words ringing in her ears, the spell Erza spake earlier still in effect. She bit her lip to restrain her own words, her nails digging into the skin of her palms. Her mother taking her sweet time as she sauntered down the hall.

Not a single click escaped from her black heels as her mother made her way into the girl's dorms. Erza letting out a small breath as the doors shut behind her. She didn't have anymore items to save her tail now. She had to be extra wary of the time and of her own restraints.

Looking down at her hands, the tips of her fingers began to reappear. The weight of the glass shards in her pocket disappearing as the cloak of invisibility began to recede. Making quick work of this opportunity, Erza made her way down the hallway.

12:15 am

It was odd to hear the soft echos of her classmates as she walked down the hallway of the boy's dorm. Erza was surprised to hear how late the misfits stayed up, not even doing homework from the sounds of rock music. How did they get away from her mother's clutches?

Though the rules had always been more lenient against the warlock population. Their contracts with Zeref had differed much than their own. And she was jealous of it. Her baptism at the age of sixteen had been painful, a deep and discolored line stained on the palm of her hand from the depth of the blade. She had sworn that her mother had been trying to cause more harm than good that fateful night.

She shivered involuntarily as her feet finally padded against the tile of the school's front wing. Only the top floor oddly containing the porcelain white tiles. Mainly because no one would want expensive mahogany being ruined by the pure nature of witches -destruction. The headmistress did not like having to replace her lavish floorboards.

The top floor used for laboratories and training rooms for spells and conjuring. The same exact floor in which Erza Scarlet would execute her summoning.

She looked down at her scarred palm, gritting her teeth. She stayed close to the blank walls as she tottered down the hall, trembling as she took each step. A current of doubt pushing against her as her feet carried her to room 333.

A fear settled within the depths of her stomach, suffocating her as it struggled to burst free from her mouth. She gulped it down, the urge to scream dawning on her. A small line of sweat breaking free from her pores, taking a long and slow trek down the curve of her face. It had lain on the edge of her jawline for but a moment before breaking free, falling to the tiles.

Erza grasped the handle of the door, the gold knob her sanctuary. As soon as the pads of her fingers touched it, the cloak had gone. Erza gasping for the air she so desperately needed.

The presence had lifted but caressed the a stray lock of hair. We will be back for you.

1:00

She had been frantic. In a daze. She had packed ingredients and hid them in cracks and crevices of this old a misused lab but within their hiding spots some had been damaged. Erza had worked to stitch back the broken arm on the small burlap doll. Tearing string from her own skirt to fix the limp arm. It was a waste of time and she could feel the room heat up. Or was it just her?

She huffed as she kneeled on the floor, all the ingredients lain before her. All except for the goat's eye. There was no way she could replace it in a hour's time. Well, never say never. There was a supply closet on the first floor. The biggest pantry of witches goods in the entire coven, but her heart was against leaving the dim room. The beats ricocheting at the thought of stepping from the small safe space.

Though the room was very dingy with its broken desks and glass cabinets missing their panels or cracked with the sheer mischief of time, it had always provided her with an area to breath in. A space in which she could act freely. The place in which she swung her sword, studied from ancient texts, and where she spent her time in procrastination.

She gripped her knees, staring at the ingredients in contemplation. All five elements of the star illuminated by their own special qualities. The edge of her skirt tattered from the small bit of string she managed to pull. The effort had most definitely been put into this small plane of hers. Why not just go get it?

She weighed her choices on a scale. First she put it simply. If she didn't go fetch (simply, remember) the goat's eye, there would be no summoning. If she were to go grab it, then she would have all the tools necessary to summon her little demon. But what were the consequences of each situation? This was the tricky part.

The possibility of being caught would put her career as a witch to an end and her family's name would be shamed for life. The last part sounded good to her but then the Wrath of Irene would ensue. But if she successfully broke into the closet, then she would rise to fame in this academy of magic!

She looked down at her cheap wristwatch. The smallest hand mocking her as it ticked by the twelve.

1:05

This night was going to get her crucified or make her rise like the sun. The thought of not wearing shoes was nice but her feet were freezing. And the cool temperatures of the tile were starting to seep into her bones.

She briskly stepped by the hallway that led back to the dorms. Those slim rectangular windows of the doors gleaming in the moonlight, eyeing her carefully. Erza's jaw was still clenched shut, afraid to utter a single sound -a single exhale. No one would know she was here. Not a single trace of would be left.

Her ears perked up and she stood still in her tracks. A silent whoosh from behind creeped behind her. A eerie creak resounding. Followed by the quick patter of footsteps.

A hushed yet chirped voice peaked, followed by straight silence. "Erza…"

She quickened up her pace, those same footsteps coming right behind her. They were coming. Her breath stalled for a moment, breathless.

"Wait… Scarlet, come back here. It's me."

She stilled, her feet urging her to leave; her only sanity recognizing the loo of a feminine presence. Slowly she turned, meeting the viscous honey-brown eyes of her very own roommate. The stark platinum hair she knew so well somewhat combed through, leaving soft curls around her face. One hand raising to wipe the guise of sleep from her eyes; rose pajamas adorning her figure. Just as her, she bore no shoes on her feet.

"Heartfilia…" Her friend was a relief. Lucy would know exactly how to help her, she always did.

1:20

Erza briefly explained what had happened and her current plan. Lucy had tutted, muttering under her breath as they silently stalked through the school's hallways. The blonde had not been happy with her choices thus far. Most specifically the decision to do this all by herself. As many would say, she was a lone wolf.

Lucy groaned as they walked down the last flight of stairs, looking as a penguin as she wobbled down the grand staircase. The wisps of sleep still about her as her zombified state made her trip down the last step. A small squeak elicited from her lips during her fall. Erza rolled her eyes as she landed flat on her stomach. She was surprised that the thud wasn't loud, the girl but a featherweight.

"Geez, Lucy…" Erza cringed as she emitted a moan. It was apparent stealth was not her strong suit. "You must be quieter, we are already in jeopardy."

With a grudging effort, she pulled Lucy up to her feet. Her tone scolding as she began to escort her down the hallway, tugging her by the elbow. They had absolutely zero time to waste in this matter. The Pantry was going to be a very challenging to find, the door hidden by some relatively high level enchantments (her mother's fortee).

The walls, just as the ones above, looked precisely the same. The difference in that fact that the first floor was the nicest in the education wing. The walls donned with red velvet wallpapers, the darkest barren wood that man could buy -the ultimate eye catcher being the golden fixtures that hung from the ceiling every ten feet or so. But right above all, was the jewel embezzled chandelier that hung right under the staircase. The red rubies glistening within their entrapment in the obsidian frame.

Lucy yanked her arm free, rubbing it with a sore pout on her face. "Yeesh… You don't have to tot me around like a child."

"I sure do when you fumble like one." She snapped back curtly, immediately placing her hand against the soft wall. It would be hard to sense the enchantment as magic flowed ceaselessly throughout the academy; an overflowing chalice that the modern world would never see nor touch.

A mere grumble came from Lucy. The silence overwhelming as their search began. She wasn't left to her devices -far from it, but she couldn't help but feel the darkness of this hallow night pull her under once more. Erza could hardly focus as she drummed her fingers against the wall.

By this point they had excavated the entire left side of the bottom floor, nothing to be found. Not one string of an unfamiliar magik or the possibility of a small rune. Nothing was ever going to be that easy, right?

She breathed steadily, counting as she drew the stale air in. One, two, three… Steadily pushing it out. Her fogged mind lifting its drawn curtain only a bit. Her cogs turned as she reached for this presence. Though in from one moment to the next all thought vanished. The recesses of her mind channeling the darkness that had come for her earlier. Those spirits taunting her and soon enough the world wasn't the same anymore.

A hand lightly cupped her shoulder. Her breathing faltering as bony white fingers crawled down from their position, gripping the lapel of her jacket. The plaid sash tugged. She violently turned. A whirlwind of frantic intentions as she held her hands up to defend herself.

Erza grasped the appendage. Her hand reeling against the bony wrist. A high falsetto ringing in her ears as she met familiar light brown eyes.

"That hur-Erza," Lucy cried out. The brim of her long lashes wet as her stomach panged. Erza released her grip immediately, a red circle forming around the porcelain skin. There was surely to be a bruise soon.

"!- On the Dark Lord's name… Lucy." The girl backed away from her ever so slightly as she tried to coddle her into her arms. "It wasn't me… I- The spirits are slipping through."

She only acknowledged her with a small nod. Her eyes still wet but she made no move to wipe them. At the pace of a snail, Erza lifted her thumb. The smallest of motions made to swipe the stray tears from under her long lashes. The salt stinging the pad of her thumb, making Erza quake with uncertainty.

Time was ticking away but it wouldn't be wasted. Her friend more important than some silly demon. Even as Lucy pulled her wrist from Erza, she still managed to latch onto the silk fabric of her top. "Let me see," she requested tentatively. Already knowing how much she had overstepped her bounds.

Lucy's arm falling limp as she lost the effort to struggle. She had already spoken to her roommate about her morals. The first of her set commandments stating that she would never harm a fellow witch. Mainly those within the bounds of their coven. And much later down her list one outlining her duties to those who were her friends. Erza had already promised (not to Zeref) that her witchdom would go under the pretenses of knighthood in order to honorably protect those close to her. Those she roomed with most definitely included.

Erza gave a small smile as she looked over the flamed ring. Being perfectly honest, she knew nothing of anatomy of the physical body. Frowning at the damage she created.

"I'll teach you how to fix it once we find The Pantry. It's just some major bruising," she rolled her wrist with hesitance, "nothing feels or looks broken." Lucy squinting with displeasure at the small pop from her wrist. "Y-Yeah… We'll be good for a short while."

"Are you sure there isn't just a spell-" She was cut off by the shake of a head.

The upward turn of her lips was hardly noticeable as Lucy gave her a stern but earnest scolding. "You should know by now that any spell needs some sort of ingredient in order to work properly. If we didn't use the earth, then Zeref would not be happy."

Erza was sure to scold herself again later. How could she forget such a simple fact? She sighed, still frustrated over the loss of time. "If only we could find the damned closet."

"There has to be something we're missing. A simple clue… Headmistress Belserion placed the runes down, correct?" Brown eyes fleeting to the wall with curiosity alight; searching for an unanswered question.

"Yes but she redid it for a reason. Remember the last time it was broken into?" Erza was not privy to the thought of those intruders, that entire night a blasphemous mess. Witch hunters were always a fly to swat.

Lucy rolled her eyes, crouching down to the floor. She cradled her damaged wrist to her chest as her other hand feathered over the floorboards. "Let's not speak of it… But our keeper isn't to be underestimated. Come feel, Erza."

"The floor?" She was most certainly vexed, stubborn to Lucy's request.

The blonde merely tugged on her skirt, the fringes pulling from the mess she made earlier. With another sigh, Erza complied. She stopped down to her level, placing her palm against the floor. It was cool but a completely different twinge of cold she knew. It clicked, as she understood Lucy's request. Each floor board she touched, full of an abundance of the magik any witch knew as enchantments.

Her lids slid shut as she relished in the newfound energy -a satisfaction deserved through this arduous task, thus far.

"Now we must find its origin… The main source will be where the door is at." Lucy stood up, turning her head down the long corridor.

Erza followed, lulling over the new information. "We don't have the time to search every single floorboard."

"I know. Hence why I need to ask one more question." Erza was alert, more than willing to answer. Lucy's jaw tightened, going lax as she spoke quickly. "I need to know where Headmistress Belserion would put the door. Only you would know."

The strings had most definitely been pulled as Erza felt herself close off. Lucy's brown eyes widening to observe her as an owl -all knowing. "That's what I thought. Don't worry, I'm not one to tell."

Or pry, she thought. She slid her foot against the floor, the mysterious energy seeping into the soles of her feet. The power familiar, harsh -just as the wiles of her own mother. With her fortitude of stone and sheer isolation, it was hard to believe that Irene would have wanted a child in the first place. But here she was, taken back in for her mother's own desires. Whether they be selfish or instinctive, Erza had hardly known.

"We're not close…" The whispers of her classmates speculations filtering through her mind. Questions never coming through for the simple fact of the Headmistresses wrath. The witch never taking kindly to rumors of any sort.

"You're closer to her than the rest of the school's populus. Just think about it Erza. Where would the Headmistress hide the door?" Lucy's voice was held above the smallest of whispers, encouraging her. The blonde pushing her up on her own pillar.

Erza directed her attention down the hall, a stony figure calling for her. It was the woman of justice, scales held within the wraps of her hands. The blade of her sword glistening with specks of marble, the gold that lined the pedestal she sat upon hardly visible.

Justice was one of the foundations of this school. One of the most important things to Irene Belserion as she sought out the miscreants within their populus. Erza nodded toward the statue, triumph lining her words. "Right there, Lucy. She's protecting it."

They both proceeded down the hallway. The protection that lay near the stony woman, filtering about their steps. It grew as they neared; a sickly captivation over the two of them. Now they just had to sift through the inner workings of the spell.

1:25

Lucy had been kneeling in front of the statue for about five minutes. Erza holding her hand over the ancient symbols so that her eyes may see. There was two things they had discovered: one, the door was most definitely here -the energy they had identified as enchantment (and Irene's) pouring from the ground and Lady Justice herself. Two, this was going to require much more time to hack than Erza would have preferred.

She let out a huff, the pink silk of Lucy's night shirt pulled taut. "I'm going as fast as possible, Erza. The wording of the enchantment is odd and I can't switch it around so mindlessly. Unless you want a consequence."

The blonde was dignant as her finger brushed over the chipped scrawl. Some of the text had flowed from one place to another as Lucy worked her own magic. A small line of sweat breaking out over her forehead. Her very own magical energy being drained.

"Sorry," she grumbled. Erza made more of an effort to shine her hand over Lucy's meddlings. Only to get in the girl's way more than she had been previously.

Lucy was hyper focused on the wrought marble before her, pressing her manicured nails down on the lifted text. By now she was nearing the end of the stone's passage. She switched one more letter through the text. The small text brushing past all the others to be put at the top.

Erza did not recognize a single word as Lucy spoke. Her tone changing from one to another, eyes glowing golden as she read the new passage aloud. Erza stepped back from the flurry swirling around the girl's body, the spirits of tonight crying with a new change. The front of the stone shifting and changing mercilessly before Lucy's tongue.

The front of the statue fell with a resounding boom. A yellow yet artificial light billowing from the entrance just made. A small and square hole in which they wouldn't be able to walk through, but the passage short enough to see the entirety of the room.

Shelves upon shelves of glass jars full of living organisms and baskets billowing with plants and flowers alike. Lucy sighed with content, shaking as she looked on. Her eyes darted to Erza for a moment before laying her body onto the floor. Her face serene in the sight as her orbs were far away.

"I can only keep this open for so long. Go in and fetch what you need but bring back frankincense and aloe. Be steadfast, Erza." Lucy went limp as her eyes stayed open, the shadows dancing around her form.

The sight made Erza's guilty conscious grow but she would come back quickly. Lucy wouldn't suffer for any longer. She reeled from the brightness as she made her way through the small hole, holding her hand up from the magnificence.

There wasn't a directory of any sort as she meandered through the aisles. Each row she shited through only pushing her farther from her goal. She had found various animal ovaries, lavender, oils of various plants, even the heads of ancient peoples. There was no limit to the stock a witch or warlock may need.

She tapped against the cage of a mouse, chuckling as it scratched at its entrapment. "I'm sorry, you're not the one I'm here for. You know where I can find any eyeballs? Goat ones, preferably."

It squeaked, it's nose rising high into the air. Erza was confused as to why anyone would want to use a mangy rodent for a spell. Or any sacrificial endeavor. The things were dirty and scampered about, tarnishing whatever they thought was food. She was glad all the animals caged in The Pantry had been placed in plexiglass instead of a simple iron cage. If they had a way, they would nibble through it too.

Erza continued on her way, brushing her hand against the woven handle of a basket. She had soon found some aloe, the small leaf mingling with the broken glass in her pocket. Erza hated to admit, but she had no idea what frankincense looked like. This place lacking labels galore in order to find it. Maybe she should have paid attention in Witch's Necessities 101.

She had soon found the goats eye, reaching high for the dusty jar. The glass tipping over into her hands, as some of the formaldehyde splashed free; suffocating in the aroma of alcohol. Almost as if death were a liquid.

The beady eyes shined within the container, apathetic toward Erza's hand. The small cloth consumed in the formula as she reached for one. None of the numerous parts drifting into her hand, only slipping about the container. A small squelch erupting from one. The tissue lining her hand, viscous and murky -almost retching from her mistake. Clearly she had underestimated how hard it would be to the slitted eye.

Her hand froze in the jar as the floor beneath her thundered. Metal ringing nigh as the crackling of glass tumbled. Heavy breathing accompanied by the drag of pieces. The creatures chittering stall by stall as the steps neared her.

"Who shall I punish today?" A dark tone accompanied by the shuffling of feet. The next phrase muffled by a large crash, a knock of wood.

Through the shelves, they began to fall like dominos. Each one toppling straight for her as she stood in an incapacitated state. The fear of the night overwhelming her so.

Her hand held the jar to her stomach dashing down the aisle; sliding as the shelf beside her creaked. Jars fell and shattered, leaving the remnants of the goodies left inside. All pooled in the acidic bath of embalming juice and oils.

Erza screeched as an iron disc flew by her head, a chuckle coming down the crooked lane. "Found you."

She quickly pocketed the slimy orb, making it lie within her breast pocket. She scrambled backwards, tripping in her attempt to stand -blind to her new opponent. Erza stood in the middle of the room, the small crook in the wall beginning to close.

"Dammit…"

Her heart palpated as she looked for the last item. There was no way she could leave without it, she needed it. Lucy needed it. The frustration bubbled in her throat, scanning the ground for any leaf or plant. All the colors blending into one as she frantically scanned the ground.

A small sheath of silver flasheshed from the heavens. Too late she realized it was a sword, the blade arching down for her. She backed away, the frustration freed as a cry of pain. Her shoulder hot and flamed.

One foot locking with another, gravity pulling her back to the ground. Her vision blurred, the stone slab in the wall shutting.

Before her stood the same beautiful marble statue that Lucy had tampered with. The thin stone lips sharp as they quirked to the side. The blade dripping with a dark coat of red, tainting the white floor. Her scales missing one of the sides, the balance offset.

"There will be no mercy for intruders, especially you. Scarlet." The voice was too deep for a woman's, poisoned with wrath. And yet wrought with guilt. Her head bowed, her blindfold poised in Erza's direction.

The short sword was angled right above her. One hand holding the weapon, small fissures braking in her hands as she wavered. The blade dove straight for her heart but she wasn't so motionless.

She barreled toward the door. Speeding on her hands and knees to the closing slab, reaching aimlessly. In pain and in distress, she cried out once more. "One more second!"

The door still closed, feet clambering behind her. She didn't dare look behind. Another bronze disk winding past her head. "Lucy!"

Erza dipped her head low, the breeze of the academy calling for her. She wiggled under the stopped door, pulling herself against the floor.

An unnatural hand latched onto her ankle, yanking harshly. Another screech was unleashed as she kicked back, her sole smashing against brittle stone. Her hands pasted against the floor as she was pulled back once more into oblivion. The stone beginning to press into the back of her thighs.

Familiar dark tresses were a curtain and long pale arms wrapped around her own. Dark orbs full of disappointment as she was saved from the woman of justice.

2:10

Erza seethed as a special ointment was applied to her shoulder. Not only had she ruined her only uniform but there was no frankincense to be had.

"I told you this was foolish," Kagura's voice held in a monotone fashion. She wrapped her shoulder tightly, her blazer and button down set on the floor.

Her face was red as Kagura finished wrapping the bandages around her bosom. "You weren't supposed to get involved."

She only shook her head, throwing her soiled clothes into the garbage can. Erza opened her mouth in protest, "You will not soil those wraps with dirty garments."

Erza huffed, standing from the bench. Lucy was conscious but lost. Kagura had tended to the girl far before Erza had returned from The Pantry. The inflamed ring around her wrist disappeared, returning to the smooth skin before.

"Then give me your jacket," Erza demanded. She stood from the bench with her hands on her hips. Her stomach taut in the cool hall. She dove back into the trash can for one reason only -the slimy yellow goat's eye; surprised that it hadn't been squashed like the other.

Kagura's eyes rolled as she shrugged out of her own school uniform. "Ungrateful," she muttered.

Erza caught the blazer with ease, buttoning it up. "Don't think I'm not thankful…" Lady Justice's voice boomed in her ears, still making her unsteady. "I am… I just- You two weren't supposed to be here. And look at the mess you two will be thrown into."

"There won't be as long as you summon that demon," Lucy interjected. Kagura's hand forming into a small fist as the blonde continued. "Even the Mistress isn't capable of summoning one, there won't be any consequences if you do. There will be praise instead."

"Or expulsion," Kagura drawled.

Lucy pet Kagura on the head, already on her way for the stairwell. "You never know then but we must go. The witching hour is upon us."

The two were on the opposite side of the coin but Erza couldn't help but agree. What type of mess had she gotten herself into?

2:50

They had made it back to the third floor without a single stop. Well, Lucy did stop to take a small bathroom break. The idea to powder her nose in the middle of the night seemed senseless to them, but neither said a word. Their friend looking much better once she exited the east hall girls bathroom, her pink pajamas straightened and her hair much more neatly combed through. A new fire set as she found herself once more.

Kagura had happily picked the door open and then locked it shut. A small grin set upon her lips the entire time. Even during the time they spent setting up the redstone pentagram. And even as the three of them gathered and readied their ingredients.

They set up each of the elements at the five points. An lamp of oil alight, saltened water, a feather of a raven, and a blue sapphire. The top point of the star holding her small burlap doll.

She walked round the circumference taking a thoughtful look to everything -even down to the smallest details. Her toe prodding at the powder that has settled deep within the crevices of the floorboards. Erza looked between the two girls, nodding.

"Get ready… The hour is nearing."

Kagura grumbled once more as she stood at the point of the earth. "I never said I would participate in your silly charade."

"And yet you set up a perfect star," she shot back.

Kagura paused and she felt victorious. Though she feared for her friend's safety, the three of them would be the most powerful together. She wouldn't take this accomplishment for herself if the spell succeeded. They would all bask in glory.

Erza stalked to the center of the circle, unfolding the small handkerchief. She handled the eye with the utmost care as she placed it in the middle of the circle. Even more cautious as to not disturb the maroon lines. Even the fine powder could not be misplaced for this ceremony. Perfection was key.

She stood at the highest point -life. Erza bowed her head toward Lucy and then Kagura, raising her palms face down to begin the proper incantations. A small silver blade settled in the band of her skirt. The metal chilling against the front of her hips, ready to jump out.

The match in the blonde's hand set alight as she kneeled down. She quickly set the lamp ablaze, a small flame rising from the nozzle. The copper tray a dizzying sight as the flame lifted higher, those passing already doing their work.

She closed her eyes for a moment, taking a synchronous breath with her roommates. One of her hands dropped as the other lifted, spreading her fingers wide. She could feel her own magic mingle with the warm essence of Lucy's and the mysterious strings of Kagura's, pinching her brows together as she searched for the beginning of the incantation. The words lost to her as those of Hallows Eve, rumbled with excitement around them.

Erza's muscles slowly began to bunch up. A presence like no other filling the room and her mouth opened. Her eyelids popping open to the bright glow of the pentagram. A blood red filling her vision as they brushed the cusp of Tartaros. Her voice low as she chanted on, thanking Zeref for his merciful grace and the powers bestowed upon the three.

A prayer of the thoughts and musings running about their minds. A flash of a sharp smile and everything went dark. The room a deep abyss of negative thought but she still held on, holding out her palm further -closer to the middle. Her fingers stretching to reach the presence that sat in the center of their star.

Zeref had delivered.

Now it was her turn to fulfill the bargain. Her mind racked with the spell, her tongue moving with ease. She flicked her palm upward, the star flaring brightly with red. The largest line crossing over the threshold of three.

On this Hallow's Eve, I deliver thy

Zeref's creation and servant

Come forth unto me deimon with the binding of scarlet!

In one quick motion, she presented her blade. Metallic glinting across the black walls; swirling with the deep hues of crimson to make pink. Another movement across her scarred palm. It burned. Drops of mars falling down onto the sad little doll.

The seconds ticked by. She fisted her palm, the red running from the wrinkles in her hand. She felt a sense of euphoria washing over her, dazed in her stance. A fog lifting until she stared deep into the depths of dark and mirthy pools of blue and porcelain skin.

3:02

Her breath fell short as a woman lain within the pentagon of the star. She was nimble and voluptuous. Her curves outlined in the skin-tight dress she donned. Lips plump with shined gold, accented by her silver hair. The waves proceeding down and down, laying atop her bottom.

Had she summoned a queen instead? Erza stared in awe, much like her roommates.

The demoness blinked, observing each of them. Her gaze merely flicking over Erza's appearance. Maybe she should have dressed up a bit more, made her face and had her hair done. Her heart fluttering in a way she hadn't known possible.

A long pink tongue swiped over her lips, curving over her angel's bow. "And which one of you is my treat?"

Lucy's jaw dropped and Erza only reciprocated her feelings. She stood up straight, clearing her throat. "I'm afraid there's no 'treats'. You will not be eating any humans or witches during your stay."

A small pout flounced over her painted lips. Her long legs peaking from the slit as she sauntered over to Erza. Her breath felt strangled in her throat as she neared, the frown turning around -a dangerous curve leering. The blue glinting with mischief.

Her hand was a blur as it wrapped around her wrist. "I think you'll be my treat on this fine day."

She winked and Erza froze as her bloodied hand was brought to her mouth. Grinning before her tongue slipped out once more. The pink muscle curving over the fine line in her palm; pressing flat against it. A sultrous moan rumbling from the demon's throat. Next thing she knew, those golden lips were pressed against her palming. Gently sucking against the wound she made.

Erza bit her lip. A small whimper emitting from her mouth as she pulled away. The demon's mouth encased with red as she let out a small sigh.

"And Zeref let you be my master?" She merely nodded, wishing that she would take her back into her hand -no, be wrapped in her embrace. The woman before her bursting into a fit of laughter. "I'm going to have much more fun than I did last time then. Seems like you're still hurt, Mistress."

Her eyes darted to her shoulder, the blue fabric darkened by her shoulder wound. Her slim digits smoothing over the fabric sending an involuntary shiver through her. But the moment was stolen by Kagura. "And who may you be?"

The demon was obviously offended, swirling around aggressively. Her hand held over her heart, batting her long lashes. "And who am I you ask?"

Her nod was dismissive. The demon continuing on her small rampage. "To some, I am the Mother of the Darkness itself. Others I am known as Zeref's concubine, mistress. The one who took a bite from the forbidden fruit -lead men astray from the righteous path."

Once again they were all thrown into awe. The demoness standing straight with pride, hands settled on the swell her hips. A small smirk settled on her lips as Kagura bowed her head in a form of apology.

"I am Mirajane -Zeref's first creation."

And with that, she left in a dark portal. A small paper left on the ground.

-I'll fix you later. (Love Mira)

The golden lips plastered onto the paper. If this night was good, the morning would be glorious. Erza looked between her two friends, a wide smile on her face. Unnoticing her healed injury and the missing scar.

They retreated to their room for the rest of the morning. A hard knock on the door throwing the three from their slumber.

Depending on the response I receive, I may continue this. 

[gwenore]

Beware of Antique dice.

My fic for my giftee Crankynerdgirl for the 2017 @rumbellesecretsanta event. I had a great time writing this for you, and though I have never played D&D before I hope you get a kick out of this one. And that you enjoy the smut.  (A bit early, but it is the 20th where I am so I am on time.)

Merry Christmas!

Prompt:  Dungeons & Dragons, Secret Hobby

Synopsis: Belle buys an antique die unaware of what consequences lay in store.  Word count: 3699-

Belle was cleaning up after another Sunday night D&D session with her friends. It had been a great deal of fun, especially with David playing his paladin character, that simply known by the rest as Charming due to a critical fail on diplomacy early on in the campaign, rushed ahead into danger, dragging the rest of the party with him. Had it not been for a couple of lucky rolls from the cleric, played by his girlfriend Mary Margaret, he’d be dead. For someone who was in the group mostly because her boyfriend and friends was into it… she wasn’t that bad of a player. Not to mention she would almost always bring snacks… which was always welcome.

Archie, who played a barbarian… totally out of character of the tiny nervous man who was the image of nice, but that is what is so great with this game, you really could do anything… just survived the encounter by the skin of his teeth, having to be dragged away from the conflict by the much smaller ranger played by Belle’s good friend Ruby.

It made for a really fun scene.

Belle had DM’ed this campaign for a while now, and she loved it so far, as did her players. It was a very odd combination of everything she enjoyed reading about in her stories. A great lover of books she had plenty of ideas for what would happen.

Though by far her favorite part was the story was an reoccurring NPC of hers simply called Rumplestiltskin. She hadn’t really planned for him to be a mainstay just someone to give a quest to the players and antagonize them a bit… which was why she had simply came up with the name on the fly, not thinking anymore of it.

However she quickly became attached to him, using him more and more often, and she had to admit the sessions she was able to play that powerful trickster who her PCs could never be certain was on their side or not was her favorite.

During the months she had been running the campaign she had really fleshed out his character, having made up his entire back story… about how he got his powers and the motivation between doing what he did.

His actions may seem irrational to the PCs, but all it was done in order to help him back to his son, who had, in an attempt to save his father and break the curse that had given him his power, gotten trapped in another realm… one which even the powerful trickster had not even been able to find as of yet.

It had been so much of fun when she got to play someone so unlike her usually quiet and reserved personality. The rest of the players were really amused by her over the top hand movements and gestures whenever Rumplestiltskin was in the story.

Already planning the next session she picked up her purse and a bag slid out. Belle smiled gently as she picked it up.

It was a purchase that she had done on impulse, but as she was browsing her local antique shop… which she would do each time she had some time to kill.

This time she had found this really strange old die. It was cut from a heavy stone, having some real weight to it and sparkling with golden color and black dots.

It was insanely cheap too, not made from any precious materials it seemed nor had it any other value, as not many in the small town were interested in dice… perhaps outside of Belle’s little roleplaying group. So of course Belle had to buy it.

Standing in the middle of the room she was rolling her stone die in the palm of her hand, feeling its weight. She had wished she had thought of it earlier as she would have loved to use it during the session.

Oh well… there would always be next time.

Playfully she allowed the die to roll over the table, thinking of her character Rumplestiltskin and what sort of mischief he come up with to torment her party of players the next time.

The dice spun around the table… and it did not stop.

Instead as it continued to spin and spin in a perfect circle around the table.

Belle furrowed her brow nervously. The die did not slow down as it by all the laws of physics should… instead it started to speed up.

“What…?” Belle asked stunned as it all the sudden started to glow. Standing there absolutely frozen in shock.

When she thought that it might be wise to run far away from the physic-defying glowing die the light became overpowering near blinding.

When the light finally died down Belle was no longer in her small studio apartment above the library. Instead the pretty brunette found herself in a massive medieval castle with every window closed up by curtains… leaving it absolutely dark and only light up by candlelight. In the middle of the room was a large long table, a throne with the back towards the door.

Surrounding the table was all sorts of items from several myths and legends that she had read about. All in all… this place was all too familiar…

Belle big blue eyes were widening greatly once she realized just why she knew this place. Not because she had been there… or not physically at least. She knew it because… because she created it. She had planned out this room in great detail… having described it several times.

This was the main hall of the dark castle of… Rumplestiltskin.

But that was impossible.

Rumplestiltskin was nothing more than a fictional character. There was no way that this was actually happening.

All the sudden she heard a voice just outside that door. That voice… that distinct impish voice. She had imagined it so many times…

She was so stunned that it was basically a miracle that she was able to hear the voice was actually coming closer. Not sure what she should do Belle did the first thing came into her mind.

To hide under the table.

Just as she did that she hid herself the massive doors to the main hall opened and she heard the clacking off his boots resonate off the stone floor. Belle desperately attempted to stay still, not daring to even breathe she was so scared as her eyes were shut close.

‘Please just go away… please… please just go away.’

This was repeated over and over in her head, her heart pounding so hard that it was aching in her chest.

“For someone who apparently has the ability to sneak into the castle of the Dark one himself…  you choose hide under the table?” she heard a mocking tone right by her ear. Opening her eyes she looked right into a pair of glowing reptilian eyes.

A terrified gasp escaped her lips as she covered her mouth as she attempting to crawl away, but was blocked by the table.

“Oh… come on… do you really think that you can run from me? You are even more foolish than I thought,” Rumplestiltskin let out a menacing giggle as he considered her. She noticed his brows furrowed. She then realized how out of place she must look. “Now… who are you? How did you get in here? I will advise you not to lie. It is not going to end well.”

With this threat he started to slowly wander around the table, moving his fingers against each other. Belle started to nervously crawl out, face to face with a character she herself had created. She doubted that this would be smart to share with him though. It was highly doubtful that he would take that revelation well.

If he would at all believe her. Belle was not sure if she ever would believe someone if they were to tell her if she was some fairytale character… even if she was in fact named after one.

On her knees she nervously crawled out from the table, twinning her fingers nervously.

“Um… my name is Belle French… I’m… I’m an adventurer,” she struggled to come up with any sort of explanation that he would believe… and not turn hostile over.

A displeased huff came from his throat.

“An adventurer?” he rolled his eyes. “Like I do not get enough of those… only even those usually tend to knock on the door. How were you able to get past me?!”

Cocking his head he stalked closer to her, a predatory gaze in his glowing eyes, a smile showing his jagged teeth, making Belle shiver slightly as she backed away. She was aware that he was dangerous… it was after all she who created him.

“Um… I… uh… happened to fall into a portal?” Belle swallowed. Rumplestiltskin wandered over to her, looking the strange woman up and down.

“Seems a bit silly to be able to fall into a portal. It is something I would not advice,” Rumplestiltskin moved his hands, as he continued to walked around her, using his claws to tug her shirt slightly.

“Must be some portal to explain those clothes,” he raised his brow.

“But fashion aside… you have yet to give me a reason for me to not show you what happens with intruders into my castle,” the dark one then countered as he stared deeply into her blue eyes. Belle was near panicked and blurted out the first thing that came to mind.

“I know you are searching for your son!”

This stopped the powerful sorcerer, his fingers moving nervously. “What?”

“Your son… the one you lost. The one who is stuck in another realm,” Belle stuttered forth. “Baelfire his name is, but you would always call him Bae. He is the reason you chose to become the Dark one... to save him from the Ogre wars. But he saw what the curse was doing to you and wanted to save you from it… but you were too afraid then and he got lost in that portal to a realm you have not been able to find, despite doing everything in your power to do so.”

As the woman spoke the Dark one’s pupil narrowed greatly and he seemed absolutely horrified that some girl would know so much about him… he had never told anyone about this, kept it the outmost secret.

“How do you know that?! Are you some kind of witch?” he asked, drawing a bit away from her. Though… he could not sense magic on her… then again this did not mean that she didn’t have it… and if she was able to hide it from him… it was dangerous magic indeed.

“No! I am no witch… just…” Belle could not finish her sentence. How could she ever tell him the truth. How would he ever be able to believe her?

“Just…?” the dark one enquired.

“I cannot tell you… trust me, I just can’t,” she pleaded.

“Oh well… perhaps this will change your mind,” he said as he snapped his fingers, Belle finding herself in a dungeon cell deep in the bowels of the castle.

“You will stay here, until you tell me why you know what you should not. And dearie… I can smell a lie,” she heard his voice sneer in her head.

Inside the darkness of the cell Belle collapsed as she started to sob. What was she going to do now?

  Rumplestiltskin was seated at his throne in the great hall. It had now been over a fortnight since that so called adventurer had shown up in his place.

He had tried to figure out where she came from or who she was, but he had come up with nothing. He would question her, promise her whatever she could want, that he would make any deal… especially if she could tell him about his son.

She refused, saying she could not. Even when he had offered to send her home if she would only tell him how to get there.

Once… having drunken himself into a stupor on some brew with magical properties he had even pleaded on his knees to her begging her to tell him about his son if she knew. Still she refused, but had comforted him stroking his hair until he passed out.

It was not just her identity he was unable to figure out. He felt he had exhausted every chance he had to find his son.

It had left him… tried.

Sitting there as he watched the hours tick away he used his claw to carve into the wood of the table as his thoughts once again wandered to his captive.

She was an enigma… very kind… beautiful. No form of malice in her form. He had let her out to do some chores, brought her a servant dress so she could change. He thought about being cruel… to torture her in order to get the answers out of her…

But… he found himself unable to…

He was undeniably drawn to her… perhaps that was why he did not dare to stay close to her for long. It was as if she had… a power over him. A power that seemed greater than even the one his dagger had over him.

He had the feeling… though he could not be certain that if she told him to do something… he would be compelled to obey.

Yet she had never really done anything… not used the power he was certain that she had. Determined he closed his hand, digging the claws into the palm of his hand.

He would confront her. He would make certain that she told him everything. No matter the cost.

Swiftly he made his way down towards her room in the bowels of the castle, but he found himself freezing outside her door, his hand hovering over the door knob. A soft growl came from his lips, before he forced himself to open the door and walked inside.

  Belle sat on her cot as she moved her fingers over the fabric of the dress. She had tried to think of the way back, but… she had no real knowledge of how she got here in the first place. She was sure it was tied to that strange dice… but… what use was that when it was not in this realm?

Her captor… her creation… most of her thoughts were about him. She knew that she may never tell him the truth.

She created him. She was the reason that he suffered as he did. She was the reason that his son had been taking from him and why he had not been able to reunite with him.

In this realm… she was unable to give him the happy ending that she wanted so much to grant him after having seen the pain in his eyes.

But… here she was powerless…

These thoughts had lead her into a trance so when her door was opened she startled to her feet, standing face to face with those golden eyes.

“Rumple-“

Belle was caught off as he placed a clawed finger on her lips.

“No. No more of your words! Tell me! Tell me who you are!” he sneered, his face just inches from her, showing his jagged teeth as he breathed heavily.

“Rumple… you know I cannot,” she said, cornered by him. In truth… though she would not admit it out loud, she had fallen for her own creation. She knew him so well… knew him better than anyone could know a living being.

Having him stand so close… just there… she could smell him. He had a deep musky smell… almost like the air smelled after at thunderstorm.

He continued to move towards her, pressing her up against the wall.

“Always the same! Yet you cannot tell me why I cannot know!” he sneered softly.

“I…” Belle started. “Know that if I could I would, but…”

“You would rather rot away in this castle with a monster than tell the truth?” he sneered, his body now pressing against hers and she could feel him tremble ever so slightly. Belle’s breath became heavier.

“I…” she started, but she was unable to continue. Having him so close… Belle bit her lower lip. Rumplestiltskin himself felt a heat go through his body as if he was ablaze. They both stared deeply into each others eyes.

“Tell me…” he whispered, yet standing so close he was completely in her thrall. Her very presence was intoxicating.

She was the ultimate mystery, yet she shared nothing.

A low growl came from his lips as he pinned her arms to the wall, Belle gasping softly.

“If you don’t…” he tried to threaten her… to scare her, yet a child could see the hesitation in his eyes. Belle’s heart was pounding.

Standing there, feeling him against her like this… Belle gave in and did what she had desired to do for so long. Leaning closer… as close as his hold on her allowed, she kissed his lips. Their lips barely brushed against each other, before she pulled away, her blue eyes hesitantly moving to meet his.

“Why…” he started. “Why did you…?”

She did not speak, but instead leaned her face close once again, kissing him deeply, as she moved her body against his. The grip on her arms lessened as they slid across her form, starting to loosen the laces that kept the dress on.

Part of her knew this was insane, but… every part of this situation was insanity incarnate... so… why not give in?

Her fingers slid over his silken shirt, moving down towards those leather pants, feeling how he was just as excited as she was, making a low pant exit her lips.

Rumple continued to grind against her as the dress slid down revealing her naked breasts to the cold air. Slowly he lowered his head brushing his lips against her collar bone, gently gracing his sharp teeth against her skin.

Belle felt a shiver go down her spine, lifting her head and moaned softly, one of her arm wrapping around the back of the neck, her fingers caressing his hair while the other was cupping his member, feeling his excitement against the palm against her hand.

A low rumble came from the Dark one’s lips as his hand moved down, lifting her leg as he continued to push her against the wall as his teeth graced his teeth against her skin.

“Who… who are you?” he groaned softly, about to down in her smell and warmth. Belle did not answer him, pressing her lips against his again, silencing the questions that she was not able to answer.

Rumple had now lost all sense and was driven only by his desire for her… this mystery that he now held within his grasp.

Lifting her up he had her body up her legs wrapping around his hips he forced her up against the wall. Despite his stature he was having no trouble holding her, and in this position she was able to remove his shirt completely, tossing it to the stone floor. His hands were caressing her pushing down her underwear, feeling how wet she was.

A low rumble came from his throat as he licked her neck. Her smell had become somewhat sweeter… far more enticing. Some part of his mind still enraged by just what she was… where she came from. Yet by this point he could only think about how much he wanted her.

Still… his frustration showed itself as he bit her neck, his sharp teeth leaving a mark upon that ivory white skin. Belle felt the slight pain, arching her back, feeling the rough almost scaled skin against her stomach and breasts, creating a pleasurable tingle going through her body.

Belle’s voice rang across the brick walls as she felt him penetrate her, the rough skin on his dick made her shiver with pleasure.

“…Rumple…” she moaned loudly, pulling on his hair rather roughly with one hand while the other was digging her nails into his shoulder.

Rumplestiltskin let out a low rumble… feeling her heat around him and it made him pant, lust filling his voice as he licked her neck.

Belle had never experienced anything like this before in his life, feeling the stone cold wall against her back, the rough brick scraping against the skin on her back, leaving slight red marks.

Yet Belle could not even feel the pain, delighting in the pleasure that she felt. Never had she felt anything like this before, the legs wrapping around him quivered slightly, already her sight was flickering due to the immense pleasure moving through her body.

“I am…” she moaned loudly in his eyes. “I am… almost…”

He growled softly in her ear, his movements becoming rougher as he was driven on the edge, and panting loudly.

Belle felt her muscles spasm as she came just as he trusted deeply into her as he came. After he leaned his forehead against her chest, still continuing to hold her up and pinned against the wall. Belle attempted to catch her breath, resting against him, her hands continuing to feel the nape of his neck and shoulders gently.

She could not believe… she could not believe this was real… that what she had created… felt so real.

Slowly he allowed her down, still gasping, beyond exhausted, not from what they had just done, but from his days of worrying and pondering.

Seeing the need in him to rest she coaxed him towards the bed and laid him down, before climbing in after. The cot was small… hardly enough space for the two of them, so Belle was resting against his chest.

She wonder if he was uncomfortable, but he was already passed out, his arms holding around her gently, yet firmly as he did not wish to let her go.

Belle smiled as she continued to caress his hair gently, and placed a kiss on his forehead.

Just then something shimmering caught her eye.

On the small table was a golden die.

[ddaddsprompts]

Before your ask box closes i FINALLY thought of a prompt: the dads with a ticklish s/o :D (btw your writing is amazing!)

I’m so sorry it’s taken so long to get to your prompt! Hopefully, now that we are four people instead of just me, things will go faster and you won’t have to wait as long! - Mod Mare

🥃 “Want another round?” At the sound of Robert’svoice you turn your head towards him. It’s strange how a few months can changea man so much, but Robert proves it’s possible. He got professional help,picked up a hobby other than drinking and cryptid hunting and actually startedtaking a shower every other day instead of once a week. His drinking gotbetter, too, decreased to a normal and acceptable level. He still can drink youunder the table though. The empty glass in front of you was only your third drink,however, so you slide it over to where he’s standing in front of thetable. He dips his head and disappears for a moment, returning with two filledglasses. You scoot to the side to let him slide into the booth again.Automatically, he throws his arm across your shoulders, pulling you close untilyour sides are pressed together. Like always whenever he touches you, youblush. Though he told you he wants to take things slow and wait until he’sready, you two still behave like a couple in public, only with less kissing andhand-holding. “Thanks, Bobert,” you say raising your glass in a toast. He rollshis eyes. “I told you not to call me that,” he grunts and drops his arm again. Indoing so, his fingers brush over your nape, right where the fine hair thickens followingyour spine up your skull. You can’t help the shudder that goes down your back andlean away from the touch. Robert frowns, then his expression turns downrightevil. “Oh, someone’s ticklish, huh?” You glare at him and move to the edge ofthe booth. He holds up his hands in a placating gesture which is destroyed byhis smirk. “Scout’s honour. I won’t tickle you… for now.”

🍸”Help!” You try to wrench Christie offof you, but Christian holds down your arm with surprising strength for a seven-year-oldchild. To be fair, you’re holding back, not wanting to accidentally hurt them,but the longer this goes on, the harder it is to control your body. “Help!”Joseph finally puts down his book and takes in the scene in front of him with agrin. When Christian asked you whether you’re ticklish, you should have knownthe twins had a plan. You wonder if telling the truth would have saved you, butfigure the outcome would have been the same, no matter what you said. Christiemanages to pull your shirt free and slips her hands under the fabric. A verymanly yelp escapes your lips as she begins tickling your sides. Now that theycan reach your skin, the torture is even worse, your end is near. Your vision isblurred because of the tears and you’re laughing so hard you can’t beg for helpany longer, but Joseph wouldn’t have saved you anyway. With a chuckle, yourboyfriend sits down on the ground next to you. “Looks like the valiant knighthas been slain by the Spider Prince and Princess! Surrender and your miseryshall end!” You try to squirm out of Christie’s reach, but Christian moves over,effectively trapping you. Gasping for breath, you look at Chris, but he’s too busyplaying on his Gameboy. Faced with inevitable defeat, you still put on yourmost determined expression. “Never, Spider King!” Joseph leans over you andgrins. “Then suffer!” At the feeling of his fingers expertly squishing your sides,you scream. It’s a wonder none of the neighbours call the police.

☕ The beeping of Mat’s phone alarm slowly wrests you from the realm ofdreams and thrusts you back into the waking world. You groan and pull thenearest object over your head, which probably is a pillow, not that you care. Nextto you, Mat chuckles and moves, the bed shifting along with him. His weightleaves the mattress and you hear him walk, the creak of the door telling you he’sgone to the bathroom. One of the major disadvantages of dating a barista: Healways gets up far too early. It’s probably only four or five am, far, far too early for any human being to beawake, and yet you enjoy cuddling with him far too much to sleep in your ownbed. The pillow on your head is suddenly pulled off, exposing you to the light.You groan and cover your face with your hands but Mat’s having none of it,gently prying them off again. Once your eyes adjust to the brightness, you seehim leaning over you, dreads hanging down. One lock brushes over your neck,making you squirm away, giggling. Mat raises an eyebrow. “Are you ticklish?”You vehemently shake your head. Mat copies the movement, but a lot slower – it causeshis dreadlocks to glide over your skin. A shudder runs down your spine. You tryto escape, but Mat’s weight on top of you keeps you trapped in place. Mat chucklesand does it again. “You are.” You can’tspeak, trying to catch your breath between giggles, but you manage a nod. Youkeep your chin pressed to your chest and pull your shoulders up as far as theygo so he can’t tickle you anymore. “Are you going to stay like this forevernow?” You grunt. Mat kisses your forehead and climbs off the bed again. “Seeyou later, turtle.”

🌹 Damien is intelligent, charming and a gentleman through and through. That’swhere the problem lies. Because as much as you love it when he wraps an armaround your waist or puts a hand on the small of your back, it’s also maddeningas hell. So far, you managed to not give away what you consider your greatestweakness, but only barely. Lucien, you’re sure, already knows what’s up; he keepson shooting you unamused looks whenever you have to bite your tongue so you don’tstart giggling when Damien does it again. It’s only a matter of time untilDamien finds out. You assumed it would be during sex or another activity withequal amounts of touching. You did not takeDamien’s interest in yoga into account. That’s a battle you cannot win. Seeinghim go from one painful-looking pose into the next with ease reminds you ofyour aching, ageing bones. You barelymanage to do the ‘low lunge’ without your back screaming in protest and Damienmakes it look so easy. “Here, let mehelp you.” Damien steps behind you and puts a hand on your shoulder. The otherslides down your spine, applying the faintest of pressure. You manage to hold in,until Damien’s hand settles at the curve where your spine meets your ass. Yousplutter, then laugh and, in your attempt to squirm out of reach, you fallforward on your face. “Oh my! Are you okay, Y/N? I didn’t mean to push so hard—“He tries to help you up again, but that just makes you laugh harder. Damien liesdown next to you and chuckles. “You’re ticklish?”“I’m neither going to confirm nor deny that.” He reaches forward and brusheshis finger over your side. With a yelp you scoot backwards and glare.

🎣 Right after Amanda, the invention of chocolateburgers and Long Haul Paranormal Ice Road Ghost Truckers, cuddling with Brianis the best thing in the world. You love putting your head on his chest andwrapping your arms around his torso; you love giving him belly rubs, making himlaugh so much it vibrates through his whole body. It’s even better when youboth are tired from a long day at work and flop down on the couch right afterdinner. You’re not always ‘on top’, so to speak. Sometimes, like it is rightnow, Brian’s head lies comfortably on your chest as you hold him close to you.You move your hands to his hips, starting to draw silly patterns into his skinwith your thumb. Brian giggles against your shirt and squirms away from yourtouch. You pause. “You can’t be serious. You’re ticklish?” It’s like Christmasand Thanksgiving in one. Brian pouts. “Am not.” You wiggle your fingers againsthis waist, drawing a snort from Brian as he tries not to laugh. “Are too.”“I bet you are ticklish. Maybe here?”He pokes your side; you raise your eyebrow. He tries under your arms, but youdon’t even twitch. “I think you’re trying to deflect from yourself, dear.”Brian smirks and scoots upwards. “I’m going to find your weakness, Y/N, mark my—“He blinks in surprise at your sudden, startled laugh and leans back. You coveryour mouth with your hand and duck your head, but not fast enough. Realisationdawns in his face. Brian grins and dives back in, rubbing his beard all overyour neck. “N-no!” You whine. You try to escape but he’s stronger and pins youdown, mercilessly assaulting your neck until you’re a laughing, sobbing mess.

👟 It rarely happens, but sometimes, you and Craigend up arguing. Most often, it’s about silly things, like what you should havefor dinner or who was supposed to do the laundry but didn’t. You never gotloud, there was no throwing dishes involved because Craig had a master’s degreein communication, but there always was reconciliation sex afterwards. That’s theonly thing stopping you from storming out of the room right now because you’vebeen at it for an hour and stillhaven’t made any progress. Well, not the only thing, but the most convincing. “Craig,their bodies won’t decay just because they had ice cream once.” It feels likeyou’re stuck in a continuous loop; you must have said that sentence 300 timesby now. “Once? Bro, you take them out to ice cream after every major gamewhich, to you, is basically every game!”“It’s ice cream! They’re kids! Let them live a little! It’s only frozen milk,how bad can that be? No, I don’t want to hear the recipe again. I heard it fivetimes already.” Craig furrows his brows. You can tell he’s going through yourconversation so far, counting each time to prove you wrong. His shouldersdeflate as he counts to five. With silence descending on you like a heavy quillblanket, Craig unexpectedly reaches out and pokes your side. You flinch away. “Bro,what—“ He does it again. Your back hits the wall, trapping you in a corner.Craig wiggles his fingers. “You can’t just end the argument by tick— NO!” Craigwraps an arm around your waist; his free hand mercilessly tickles you in allyour sensitive spots. You gasp for air and try to free yourself, limbs flailinghelplessly. Somehow, you manage to kick Craig in the knee, sending you bothtoppling to the floor. Your eyes meet his and then you’re both breaking intolaughter.

📖 “Now, in theory, were this a match I would throw you right over my head.”From where you are slung across Hugo’s shoulder, all you can do is hum. Youdefinitely do not want him to throw you down, but you don’t think he’s goingto. That would definitely put a hamper on later activities. After your first physicalbrush with wrestling which led to Hugo and you making out, him suggesting to showyou more moves became a pick-up line which never fails to work. With how close andpersonal you always got, it’s a downright miracle he never noticed how ticklishyou are. Maybe he’s just never touched you in the right spots before or if hedid, you were already breathless so it didn’t matter much why you gasped forair to begin with. “Careful now, I’m going to let you down again.” Slowly, Hugoshifts his hands from your knee-pits upwards while bringing you back into anupwards position. When his hands brush over your lower back, where your shirthad ridden up due to the athletics you’ve been doing, a startled laugh escapesyour mouth. Hugo pauses; you can’t see his expression but you imagine himfrowning. He brushes over your back again. Again, you laugh. “Well, well, well.I didn’t know you were ticklish.” Without any obvious effort whatsoever, Hugolies you down on the bed. You do notlike the smirk on his face. “I’m not?” Hugo raises an eyebrow. “Okay, I am. Alittle.” His other eyebrow joins the conversation. “Fine, a lot.” Hugo folds hisglasses and puts them aside. “You know, I’m a fan of show, don’t tell.” Youonly get what he means when his hands are suddenly all over you. You try toscramble away but there’s no escaping JDSlamminger.

[nightmareonfilmstreet]

[Recap] AMC’s THE TERROR Chills Your Soul in Series Premiere

“In 1845, two Royal Navy ships left England in an attempt to finally discover a navigable path through the Arctic. They were the most technologically advanced ships of their day. They were last seen by European whalers in Baffin Bay awaiting good conditions to enter the Arctic labyrinth. Both ships then vanished.”

So begins the premiere episode of AMC’s The Terror, the highly anticipated new series based on the novel of the same name by Dan Simmons. The story is structured around the true story of Sir John Franklin’s lost Arctic expedition, which is a completely true and tragic tale of the HMS Erebus and HMS Terror, wherein 129 men were lost and never heard from again. The Terror will fill the gaps in the narrative with tales of madness and monsters.

“Go For Broke” opens a couple of years after the ships disappeared with two Royal Navy officers questioning an indigenous man about the fate of the expedition. The man explains to the officers that he met one of the captains, whom he referred to as Aglooka. When shown pictures of the three captains that led the expedition, Sir John Franklin (Ciarán Hinds), James Fitzjames (Tobias Menzies) and Frances Crozier (Jared Harris), the Inuit man identified Frances as the person he met on the ice. He was leading the remains of the crew across the frozen tundra, hungry and dying. Crozier relayed a message to the man, asking him to tell whomever came after to not stay, that the crew are being pursued by something called Tuunbaq and that they are “dead and gone”. He then gives the Inuit man the buttons off of his uniform to show to the officers.

  “You love your men more than God loves them, Sir John”- James Fitzjames “For all your sakes, let’s hope you’re wrong.”- Sir John Franklin

  With that ominous warning, we are taken four years into the past. We see the two ships in all of their glory, plowing through the ice littered waters of the Arctic. Sir Jon stands at the helm of the lead ship, the Erebus, and surveys what he commands. A religious man by nature, Sir John looks upon the frozen wastes and sees something that God has destined him to conquer. That’s if he can keep his second and third in command, Crozier and Fitzjames, respectively, from biting each others heads off. Fitzjames is a bit of a braggart (I mean, he is pretty handsome), and Crozier seems to have lost all sense of joy for his life and tries his best to find it at the bottom of a bottle. The expedition is going well so far, they are making good time, so the only real problems they have involve which spirit to serve at dinner.

As the officers dine in their lavish quarters, the rest of the crew eats down below. They are a jovial bunch, happy with the adventure they are embarking on and ready to do their part to fight through the cold to the warmer climate of the Pacific Ocean. As they eat their dinner, one of the men falls ill. “Falls ill” may have been a bit tame. The young adventurer convulses on his bench, spewing blood and bile everywhere as the others fearfully try to calm him down.

    All of this happens before we even get to the opening credits (which are absolutely gorgeous, by the way). This sets the stage for the dangers that are to come. After the sick young man has calmed down, he is taken to see Doctor Stanley (Alistair Petrie) and Surgeon Goodsir (Paul Ready) on the Erebus. Stanley is a gruff, unloving man who scold the young sailer for not telling anyone that he was feeling ill. When the sailor tells him that it’s because he didn’t want to disappoint Sir John, Stanley tells him that Sir John will assuredly praise his loyalty at the funeral. Pretty rough, dude. Goodsir, on the other hand, tries to help the young man stay calm and find a way to accept his upcoming death. In one of the most powerful sequences in the entire episode, we see Goodsir try his hardest to comfort the young man as death approaches. He lies to him, telling him that he will see a light a his family will be waiting for him to take him into heaven. When the young man mentions that he was an orphan and has no family, Goodsir tells him that it will be the angels, then, that take him to the entrance of the promised land. You can tell that he is trying anything and everything to comfort the poor boy, but nothing works. The young man, in his final moments, sees a vision of an Inuit man standing at the foot of his bed, wearing a terrifying mask. The boy screams that “He wants us to Run”, then dies in the throws of absolute terror.

  “This place wants us dead.”- Frances Crozier

  This feeling of doom permeates the entirety of the first two episodes of the series. We know by now that The Terror is a show about a monster stalking the expedition, but what we are shown right away is just how dangerous everything is on this expedition. Literally everything is trying to kill you. The cold, the food (already rancid after only a year), the ice and the ships themselves seem to be hell bent on making sure that these men do not survive. The main conflict of the series happens early on, as Sir John and Crozier argue about the best route to take for the rapidly approaching winter. Sir John wants to continue to the west like they planned, but Crozier sees that winter is coming fast and advises that they take an easterly route to safer waters. He fears being stuck in the pack ice throughout the winter, which not only holds them captive but also drifts and takes them wherever it sees fit. Against all protestations, Sir John is the commanding officer and makes the decision to plow on as planned.

    Guess what? Yep. They get stuck. For the second episode of the night, “Gore”, we fast-forward 8 months to the next spring. If the first episode dealt with the dangers of hubris, this next episode had everything to do with pressure. Not just the pressure placed on the boats by the ice, but also the pressure building inside each of these sailors as they await their fate. The ships have been stuck in the ice all winter and the men have started to get a little antsy. They play soccer on the ice and have romps with each other in the dark storerooms, but you can tell that they need too get moving and they need to get moving soon. Sir John and Crozier have not been speaking to each other, leading Sir John to finally admit that he was wrong about the path they took and to try and make amends with his second in command. To help determine their next move, they send our lead parties to try and find out which direction the ice is retreating.

How can put this delicately… These lead parties did not, go well. One group had to turn back after they found their provisions to be spoiled and rancid. They got off pretty easily, compared to the other group. This one, with Goodsir in tow, found their way to the shore of Prince William Island and an impassable wall of ice. This forces them to abandon their boat of goods and trek along on foot. As they return to the boat later that day, however, they see that their boat and been upturned and their camp has been ransacked. This wasn’t some little tiny canoe, either. This gigantic, 10-man lifeboat was thrown about by some gigantic beast that they say “must be a bear”.

  “If we don’t leave now, we’re going to disappear”- Frances Crozier

  As night descends on the camp, they are pelted by astonishingly large hail and hear a loud menacing roar in the distance. They have been followed by the “bear” and arm themselves in anticipation for the attack. As they all load and cock their weapons, one scared young sailor takes a shot in the dark, thinking he has felled the beast. What he has done, instead, is shoot an Inuit man in the chest, leaving him mortally wounded in the snow as his daughter tries to save him. Goodsir is called to the scene, and as he turns to face the group, he sees it. The beast. Tuunbaq. Almost as retribution for the wounding of the Inuit man, it attacks one of the sailors, leaving enough blood on the ice to guarantee his death.

    As they return the ship, it is clear that neither Sir John nor Dr. Stanley want anything to do with helping the indigenous man. They turn their nose up in the air and won’t even come near enough to touch him. Goodsir begs for the opportunity to try and save his life, which Sir John reluctantly agrees to. Unfortunately, the man’s gunshot is too deep, and he will die. As he is dying, his daughter tries to get him out of the belly of the ship, screaming that he must die under the sky, that he must die on the ice. She is held back by Crozier, who is able to communicate well with her due to his prior expeditions in the area. To her father, she begs him not to leave her. She claims that she cannot do this alone. That she isn’t ready.

That Tuunbaq will not obey her.

Here ends the first two episodes of The Terror. To say that a lot happened would be an understatement, but we must remember that this is a one-season show. We have just watched 20% of the entire series, so the amount of exposition is warranted. If I had to say anything about this show, its that AMC has an absolutely stunning hit on their hands. This show is gorgeous, form the ship’s interiors to the soaring bird’s-eye shots of the icy wasteland. The mystery is definitely there (What, exactly, is Tuunbaq and how can an Inuit man control it?), and the interpersonal drama between the Captains is exquisitely written and performed. In two short hours we have ben given completely fleshed out characters with backstories and motivations. Some television series cannot offer than in an entire season. We genuinely care about these men, even though we know what their final fate will be.

    As a young sailer is about to be lowered into the water to dislodge some ice from the propeller of the Erebus, Sir John comforts him by saying “God lies in all realms”. He doesn’t know how right he is. It is not his idea of God that surrounds them, however. In The Terror, ice and death are the gods in charge. And yes, Sir John, they do lie in all realms.

The Terror airs every Monday night on AMC, and I implore you to set your DVR for this one. This is one of the best looking, acted, and most horrific television shows that cable has given us in a long time. It is also the best two hours of television that AMC has aired since the first season of The Walking Dead. After you check out the two-hour premiere, head over to our official Facebook Group, Horror Fiends of Nightmare on Film Street, and let us know what you think. I will be writing recaps of each episode for Nightmare on Film Street, so be sure to bookmark that home page.

  The post [Recap] AMC’s THE TERROR Chills Your Soul in Series Premiere appeared first on Nightmare on Film Street - Horror Movie Podcast, News and Reviews.

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[magiesheartlove]

Kallura Dating AU Fanfic Ideas

Okay, so this is an idea for a Kallura AU I've had for quite some time, but I was hesitant to share it because;

1) It's kind of corny and far fetched and really just wishful thinking and such, but I still had a lot of fun thinking about it.

2) I was worried it would be found by some angry Klance shippers. Not gonna lie, those guys scare me!!

Anyway, I finally decided to take the plunge and share it with my fellow Kallura shippers. These are mainly just notes and ideas for this AU. Not sure if I will ever write this in the future, but it's still a fun idea to play around with.

As for any Klance shippers out there….please don't hurt me, I mean no disrespect.

Back to this, the idea came to me one day while I was just scrolling through the Kallura tags and thought to myself this random idea; "how would it have been like if Keith and Allura were already a couple since the start of the series?"

Now, of course I knew that was impossible since how could they have met before that time when Keith was still stuck on earth and Allura was frozen alive millions of galaxies away, right? Well, then I remembered the fact that Allura is connected to the lions as stated by Coran in the first episode….and Keith was able to sense the energy of the Blue Lion back on earth. We still have no explanation as to how Keith was able to do that, I really hope they do eventually address it in the show, but what if, somehow, Keith managed to connect to Allura when he sensed the energy of the Blue Lion?

Here is where it gets all Young Adult Fantasy Novel-ish, so please humor me here.

IDEAS!!!

*While in stasis, Allura's Altean quintessence, or magic whichever you call it, created some kind of Astral Mind Plane while she was asleep. So, in this AU she was aware she was asleep but not for how long and wether or not her father was alive. Think of it like the computer AI of her father where she is surrounded by juniperberries and can manifest anything she wishes, except living breathing people or animals, which makes her feel very lonely and only the imaginary animals can keep her company.

*Back on earth, while Keith is still a student at the Garrison, her often travels to the desert to have some alone time, or see his old shack. He senses something about this place, but is unsure what. Every night when he goes to sleep he's reminded of that energy he felt in that area, even if it was faint, and one night finds himself mentally transported into Allura's Astral Plane.

*At first, Keith assumes he's dreaming and spots Allura, but before he can ask her where he is, she surprises him by flipping and throwing him to the ground, having grabbed his Marmora Blade (still wrapped up) and points it at Keith's neck, demanding to know who he is. (Talk about a first impression) 

*Upon realizing he felt actual pain, Keith realizes he's not dreaming and Allura introduces herself, explaining what the world is, merely a manifestation of her own mind, which somehow Keith managed to enter somehow.

*At first, the two get off to a rough start, not entirely sure if to trust one another and the two ask various questions about the other. After a while, they two conclude neither is a threat, and Allura theorizes maybe Keith is her ticket to waking up and defeating Zarkon.

*The next morning when he wakes up, Keith notices that he still feels the same soar on his back from when Allura knocked him down, concluding once again that everything was real.

*Life goes as normal for Keith during the day at the Garrison, and at night he keeps visiting Allura in the Astral Plane, where she shows him her memories of Altea and culture and about Voltron, as well as her hoping Altea is still there, as is her father who may also be frozen and asleep, and hopes she will wake up and see her people again. Keith and Allura bond over having lost their families and feeling alone, and how they feel more comfortable in the outdoors. Keith finds an immediate liking to the exotic and rare flowers of Altea, as well as the forests Allura says she used to sneak into when she was young because she wanted to see the neon butterflies at midnight, despite her father's forbiddance.

*This trend continues on for as long as Keith had spent at the Garrison. Every visit brought the two closer and they learned something new about the other. For the first time, Allura doesn't feel alone in who knows how long, since even she herself is unaware of how long she had been asleep, since time there seems to sit still for her. Keith finally finds someone he feels comfortable enough to open up to, aside from Shiro, and discovers that he's much happier during the day, something Shiro takes notice of. Though, not bouncing happy, just smiling more and a bit more easy-going than before.

*Shiro one day asks Keith what has caused his sudden shift in demeanor. Keith tells Shiro she met someone online, a girl from England named Allura, and that they've been video chatting for seven months now. Shiro asks Keith if maybe she could come and visit, but Keith lies and says her "parents" won't let her, due to being overly protective. If Keith told Shiro he had been seeing an alien princess in some kind of mystical dream-like realm Shiro would be inspecting what Keith's been putting in his drinks.

*Allura does tell Keith about Voltron and about how she's not sure where the lions are, or wether or not Zarkon has them hostage. Keith, after so much time, wholeheartedly decides he wants to help Allura, though he questions how he can if they're so far apart. More determined than ever, Keith vows he will find a way to reach Allura, no matter what it takes. This is when they finally share their first kiss.

*During this time, Keith tries to figure out a way to find Allura by doing more research on space travel, and even sneaking into the Garrison library for more information, nearly getting caught in the process, leading to the professors believing he has a "disciplinary" issue, as well as arriving to classes late.

*Shiro one day confronts Keith about this and states that he needs to get his priorities straight. Keith, of course, only agrees without revealing anything about Allura.

*Shortly after, Shiro and the Holts head off for the Kerberos mission and when Shiro is presumed dead, Keith morns the loss while Allura comforts him.

*Afterwards, due to more problems at the Garrison, Keith is eventually kicked out of the Garrison (or dropped out, whichever), and spends all his time back in his old Shack. That is where he starts to sense the energy, stronger than before, and finally finds the cave with the Blue Lion symbols. Once he tells Allura, she is overjoyed, because this means if Keith finds the Blue Lion he can finally reach her and together they can maybe find the other lions in the process.

*Of course, Keith's search is proved in vain since he still can't find where the lion is, never the less, Allura still offers him words of encouragement and comfort and the two share fun stories and play like little kids in the juniperberry fields to ease the stress. Other times, they would just sit by a tree close to one another and kissing. Each one more passionate than the last.

*A year later, when Shiro finally returns, Keith explains to them what he found, yet still doesn't inform them about Allura, since he's still not sure how they will take this information, and if he reveals he knows about Voltron then they might suspect him of something.

*The first episode goes as it did, only with a huge twist for the rest of the paladins. When Allura wakes up, she does pin Lance to the ground when he tries to flirt with her, and when she sees Keith, the two are frozen in place, overwhelmed with a sense of shock and happiness. The two embrace and share a loving kiss, which shocks, and confuses, everyone else. It's here where Keith finally reveals the truth and apologizes for not having said anything until now. For the remainder of the episode, Keith and Allura are often side by side, and near the end after they formed Voltron, Lance is expecting Allura to hug him, only to be disappointed when she instead runs up to Keith.

*The rest of the series happens as in cannon, but with Keith and Allura behaving more like a couple. Even during the hilarious food fight scene in episode 2, Keith managed to catch on to what Allura was planning when she flung the green alien food at Pidge, reminding him of the times they would play certain games while in the Astral Plane, and by the end the two go off to have a dinner for two. Without throwing stuff this time.

*In "Crystal Venom", before Keith gave Allura his jacket, which she wears all episode over her pink nightgown, and at the end after Allura had to say goodbye to her father Keith sits beside her the entire time, holding her hand, while she's still wearing his jacket.

A/N: Allurea wearing Keith's jacket gives me life!

*In the second to last episode, when Allura and Shiro infiltrated the Galra ship, she and Keith share a moment and Allura, while in her Galra form, lifts Keith up and kisses him, and Keith doesn't mind at all.

*After Allura is captured, a desperate Keith realizes he may still be able to telepathically communicate with Allura just as they did when he was back on Earth. He is able to commune with her in the same filed as before and Keith promises to rescue her, but Allura begs he and the paladins don't hand the lions to Zarkon. Hesitant, Keith still promises he'll find a way to break her out, but does stay true to her word, and the two share a kiss. Never the less, the paladins still go ahead and face Zakon's defenses with Voltron, and Keith obviously doesn't protest. (which, the last part surprisingly happened in cannon too.)

*As for the Keith!Galra subplot, while in this AU Allura is well aware of Keith's dagger, but just like him is unaware that it's Galra origins. When both believe they are the reason Zarkon keeps finding them, naturally the two run off to see if that is the case, and during this time they have the usual cannon conversation, only added with Allura taking notice that something is bothering Keith, but he's unsure if to tell her what he suspects about his heritage. After the pod blows up (and that iconic Space Dance scene happens!) Keith finally admits to Allura about the dagger and was worried what she would think of him, for he's now more confused than ever about who he is. Even if they are not entirely convinced Keith is Galra or connected to them by his own free will, Allura states she knows Keith and knows he would never betray her or the team.

*During the Space Mall episode, Keith does manage to find an antique shop where he finds a locket with a flower styled like a junperberry. Lucky for him, the owner finds the treasure "worthless" and tosses it out, only for Keith to quickly grab it before he suspected anything.

*After it's stated conclusively that Keith is in fact half Galra, Allura still doesn't hate him, but is left in shock to uncover that the man she loves is part of the race that destroyed her people. She doesn't resent him or shut him out, but she does behave a bit distant not out of hatred, but out of confusion and fear of losing him. After Keith and Hunk return from the Weblurm she realizes on her own she never should have been afraid to begin with, and that Galra or not, he is still her Keith. Then, this scene happens….

Allura: "Hunk, thank you for getting the scoltrite."

Hunk: "No problem. You know, Keith was there too. Isn't there something you'd like to--" *(Hunk is completely cut off when Allura runs up to Keith and surprises him with a kiss on the lips)* "Oh… nevermind."

*Before Keith goes on the suicide mission, Allura once again speaks with Keith about the whole thing, mainly because she doesn't want him to leave without saying how she feels. She apologizes for even suggesting the idea of Keith ever betraying her because of her own hatred and trauma the Galra had caused her.

Allura: "I'm so sorry I hurt you. You've proven time and time again it's not what's in your blood, it's who you are that counts. And who you are…is the man I love."

*Keith is taken off guard because this was the first time either one of them had said "I love you." Guess what his answer is…. ;)

Keith: "Allura…I love you too."

*Aaaaaaaaaaaannnnnnnndddddddd……….Cue the Kiss!! And Keith handing Allura the locket he found.

*Of course, when Allura is presumably dead, Keith not only screams her name, but also lets out a heartbroken yell, almost like a roar, and cries literal tears and slams his fists onto the dashboard. Once it's revealed Allura is still alive, he smiles and the two share a tight loving embrace once they are reunited right before rushing towards the Black Lion and find Shiro missing.

To be continued in season 3….

Wow, this turned out longer than I expected, but since I'm not entirely sure if I will have the time (or, at least as much time as I hope) to work on this, at least I get to share the ideas with my fellow Kallura shippers. If anyone wishes to "adopt" this story, just send me a message.

Thank you Kallura shippers, I love you guys!

[imyourliquor-youremypoison]

Great Minds Think Alike (Riverdale - Jughead x OC)

Pairing : Jughead x OC

Synopsis : A new girl arrives in town around the time of Jason Blossom's accident. That alone makes her suspicious and unlikeable to most people. Jughead has every reason to investigate on her, the timing is too perfect, right? And it has nothing to do with the young girl's odd yet charming way of always seeming to find her way back to him, no matter the situation.  

Word Count : 2k

MASTERLIST

>>> Part 2

The first time Iris entered the small town of Riverdale, she thought she had just stumbled upon the most boring place on earth and gave a desperate look to her dad as soon as she saw the ridiculously low number of people who lived here under the Welcome to Riverdale sign.

A great deal of arguing happened when her parents broke the news to her that they were getting a divorce and then ensued a fight about who Iris would live with. The choice ended up being a practical one: after selling their house, her mom moved to a small apartment in Chicago, and her dad decided to go back to his hometown, in his childhood house. A house big enough for Iris to live in with him, big enough for her to keep sulking about being torn away from her life and friends and to keep avoiding her dad to silently punish him for destroying her life.

That's what she thought about when she saw the old looking but huge house with a white fence surrounding it. Iris was hyper aware of being dramatic, but nobody expected her to react any other way: she was at the age where every little change in her habits felt like a personal attack against her.

For the first month she mainly stayed in her room. It was the beginning of summer break, it was a shame to waste her holidays like this, but she was content with being on her own despite the boredom that came from this constant isolation. After a while she began to wander the streets early in the morning or late in the evening, to discover the town freely, without having too many people around to wonder how the hell she was – because it was the kind of small town where everybody knew everybody.

Riverdale didn't have the same holiday vibes than Chicago, Iris found herself appreciating the lack of sun and not having her air stick to the back of her neck or worrying about getting a sunstroke. Still, it was nicer to walk around before sunrise and after sunset. She gradually discovered what would later become her favorite spots in the town – the drive-thu, the public library, the gazebo in the park and her latest find: that 50's looking diner at the edge of the town.

It was way past 10pm the first time the saw the red neon sign that read “Pop's” and Iris wasn't going to deny herself a milkshake. Besides, she had been looking for a place to sit down and work a little the whole day, and the park was full of screaming kids today. If it gave her an excuse not to go back home before her dad went to bed, then it was all the more better.

A bell rang when she walked through the front door of the diner and Iris took in the interior, looking at the black and white floor tiles, the red seats of the booths and the jukebox sitting at the far end of the room. A little smile cracked her severe looking face and Iris couldn't help but nod appreciatively at what she saw. The man behind the counter greeted her and gave her a warm smile when she ordered her milkshake, before telling her that it would come right up and to take a seat.

Her bag hanging off her shoulder, Iris slowly walked down the row of booths – all empty, except for one. Curiosity took the best of her – she might not want to be looked at like she was some sort of curious animal but she wasn't asocial in the least – so she approached a little closer to have a better look. It was a boy who looked to be around her age, probably going to Riverdale High – since it was the only High School in a fifty miles radius – so this must be her first encounter with a potential classmate. His eyes were fixed on his computer screen and it seemed like he hasn't noticed her at all, despite the ringing of the bell when she opened the door.

For a couple seconds or so, Iris fumbled with the handle of her bag and hesitate, but she took a deep breath and stepped closer. The boy stiffened and his eyes slowly drifted from the computer to her, though he didn't move a muscle, his fingers frozen over the keyboard as though he was waiting for her to walk away before continuing.

“Hi,” Iris said. “It is okay if I sit with you?”

His brows shot up and he sat straight up to look around him, seeing all the booths were empty and they were the two only clients at this time of day.

“Why?” He asked.

This less than polite answer took Iris aback and she mimicked the boy's surprised expression upon hearing those words, though her determination didn't falter. She took in his appearance before answering and realized that while she might not be asocial at all, it might be his case. He looked tired – suitcases under his eyes kind of tired – and his disheveled head and creased shirt was a testimony of the fact that he obviously didn't plan on seeing anyone today, let alone a perfect stranger.

“I work better when I'm not alone,” she finally said, not waiting for his answer to sit down across from him. “I won't make conversation if that's what you're afraid of.”

The boy huffed, as if he was offended by her choice of words.

“I'd be surprised if you could handle a conversation with me,” he grumbled under his breath, not clearly not making any effort to not be heard from her.

“Are you always this rude or am I just lucky?” Iris asked, clicking her tongue inside her cheek.

She grabbed her laptop and set it on the table, seeing the way the boy's features went through surprise at first, then resignation and acceptance. She wouldn't leave this booth.

“Sarcasm,” he observed, giving her a pointed look. “Now you have my attention.”

“I don't want your attention, I want silent company and a white chocolate milkshake,” she replied as she began to type.

She just spent a month not talking to anyone but her reflection in the mirror, maybe she was just a little rusty? Iris didn't remember ever starting off a conversation this badly and yet there was something about this guy that made her stay where she was sat and not storm off to an empty booth at the other end of the diner.

The man brought her her milkshake, giving the boy a knowing smile when he walked away and went back to cleaning the counter.

“Who's being rude now?” Grumpy pants asked her.

“Who's making conversation now?” Iris said, merely sparing him a glance.

“What are you doing?”

“Writing, isn't it obvious?” She answered.

“Did you just sass me?” He asked, seemingly puzzled.

His dark wavy hair fell before his eyes and the screen light of his laptop emphasized his pale complexion and the circles under his eyes. He had blue eyes. Suddenly Iris realized she was staring a bit too hard if she managed to notice the color of his eyes.

“Evidently,” she laughed. “You're not very good at social interaction, are you?” She sighed in a way a teacher would when trying to get a difficult pupil to understand something.

“So much in common already and you haven't even introduced yourself,” he snickered.

“I'm-”

“I know who you are,” he cut her off. “I merely pointed out the fact that you haven't told me despite inviting yourself at my booth.”

“Your booth?” Iris repeated. “You haven't told me your name either, but maybe I should just look and I'll see it written on this booth?”

The hell was she going to let him make her feel bad about herself! She might not have displayed her good manners tonight, but he obviously didn't have any.

“Touché,” he said. “Name's Jughead.”

“What kind of name is that?” Iris asked in a chuckle, momentarily forgetting to make an effort and be polite.

“Mine,” he said, clearly not amused.

“Sorry,” Iris apologized and swallowed down, taking a sip of her milkshake and focusing back on her screen.

Five solid – though seemingly endless – minutes passed before either of them said anything, and Iris was surprise to hear the boy – Jughead – talk again after her rude question. She had to admit this one was on her, she should have kept her mouth shut.

“It's a nickname,” he said. “You're not asking how I know your name?”

“I'm the new girl in a small town, I would expect people to talk,” she simply answered and shrugged.

“Well, aren't you humble,” Jughead scoffed. “And out of all the people here, I'm the lucky one who gets to be insulted by the new girl.”

He was so blatantly trying to get rid of her while simultaneously enjoying himself very much that Iris wanted to grab the book in her bag and smack it on his head to make him swallow back his pride. How could this stranger awaken such violent impulses in her? The best way to get back at him was to not play along.

“You know, this is the most entertaining conversation I've had in weeks, if you're trying to ward me off and prevent me from coming here to bother you again, this is a bad strategy,” Iris simply told him, not looking up from her screen and continuing to type as though he wasn't bothering her in the least.

Jughead looked angry – or maybe he was hurt in his pride? - that she wasn't falling for it and kept opposing him with such force. After all, the idea that he misjudged her remained in the realm of possibilities. The new girl might be more interesting than he first thought and far more complex than what she looked like. From the outside she was another beauty queen who would no doubt end up member of the Vixens within the first week of school. Her ashy brown hair was tied back in a ponytail for purely practical reasons it seemed since it was quite messy and it looked like she had tied it without using a mirror. A few strands of hair framed her scarcely makeup-ed heart-shaped face. With her shorts and top she looked like an Cheryl Blossom number two, even though it was unlikely she knew her.

His lack of answer apparently didn't bother her whatsoever, and her fingers kept skillfully typing away whatever she was writing on her laptop – Jughead wanted to know, curiosity took the best of him. He noticed how she sucked in her cheeks when she stopped typing to think – about a word probably – and how her left eyebrow twitched when she deleted a sentence and rewrote it.

Time passed unevenly this evening. Neither of them had any idea what time it was when she eventually closed her laptop with a satisfied sigh and smiled, as though their entire conversation had been a figment of Jughead's imagination. She paid for her milkshake and wish him good luck with whatever he was writing himself before walking out.

It wasn't until much later, when Pop told him that it was time to leave that Jughead realized she had forgotten something. On her side of the booth he spotted a card lying on the seats and when he picked it up, he saw it was her ID. Must have fallen from her bag. He shrugged and shoved it in his pocket – he had no idea how or when he would return it to her, but he didn't want to leave it to Pop in case she came back. For some reason he wanted to give it back to her himself.

Iris Cecilia Graham from Chicago was the first interesting thing happening since Jason Blossom when MIA last month, and the fact that she arrived around the time of the boy's presumed death was just another reason for Jughead to see her again.

If you like my work please consider buying me a coffee <3

A/N: I’m just putting this out there... it’s my first attempt at writing with Jughead, I love this character so much I couldn’t resist! For those of you who read my other stories and wonder when the hell I’m updating those, I’m sorry for being such a distracted fuck who’s fundamentally unable to focus on one work at a time. But I swear, I’m also working on the end of Off Limits! :)

Let me know what you think!

[treatian]

The Chronicles of the Dark One:  The Dark Curse

Chapter 171:  What She Knew

Belle had to go. With the serum a failure there was simply no more getting around it. He was too close to her, he wanted her too much. And it was getting worse by the day. It wasn't just how he acted when he was around her that worried him, but now it was his thoughts that he found disturbing. He wasn't just thinking things that could be easily excused male hormones run amuck. He wasn't just thinking of inadequate sex like he'd experienced with Milah or the raunchy urges he'd had with Cora. Her presence brought out something different in him, something tender-a word he would never have thought to describe himself with in the last hundred years, and yet here he was. In his imagination, he wasn't just seeing himself kissing her, though he did plenty of picturing that, he saw them laying together in bed, talking about idle prattle. He had the urge to stroke is fingers through her hair and rub her back. Then last night, the unimaginable...the words "Will you marry me?" had popped into his head seemingly from out of nowhere. His pulse began to thud rapidly against his chest and he broke out into a cold sweat. It wasn't the voice of the Seer in his head…it had been his own. Ordinarily, that wouldn't have been considered a strange phenomenon, especially when he'd sat in his chair picturing the woman downstairs as he was. But crisp and clean as the words were with a slight echo, in an undeniable, unquestioning tone…suddenly his curiosity as to whether or not the things he saw in his head were boyish fantasy or vision became a fear.

How often had he seen something in his head of her wearing clothes that were not from this world? Were these truly just fantasies? Or could they be images of the future? The brown-haired woman in the bed beside him, he'd had one questionable fantasy of rolling over and finding it was her…but could it be her? A vision? Not a fantasy. Truth? His future? Theirs?

It didn't matter. It didn't matter because it wasn't going to happen. Belle had become a distraction he couldn't afford to have in his life. He had to remain focused on Baelfire and yet, one little talk with Jefferson had changed everything. Funny, he would have thought that a fear like this would have been enough motivation to stay away. Yet, he found that all he wanted to do was talk with her, be in the same room as her and despite knowing that he shouldn't give into those urges he found he couldn't help himself. He found himself doing a lot of things lately he'd never done before either; like asking whether or not she truly was happy here with him, as Jefferson suggested. And he wondered whether or not he had anything to do with that happiness or if it was merely liberation from a society she hadn't wanted to live in. Had she truly cared for that brute of a man, Gaston? Did she miss him? Long for him? Did she go to bed each night with images of him in her head as he did with her? His stomach turned as he thought of those moments, and a new thought came to him. Did she ever think of him as she put her hand between her legs…just as he did with her?

A distraction. Curiosity was a good thing, but worry was the opposite, and he was getting so close to the end of all this he couldn't afford to make a mistake now. With the experiment a failure, with no discernible way to change himself, he came to one last option. His only choice was to get rid of her. It was a ridiculously simple answer considering how long he'd agonized over it. But it was his desire not to do it, to find any other option that told him it was right.

He had questions. How should he do it? Should he simply free her or find her more work? Where would she go? Back to her father? He thought not, but he couldn't be sure. Should he get her a house somewhere with a library and let her do her work there? Make some kind of deal with Regina to make sure she was protected when the Curse hit? Should he just kick her out, give her a few coins to start a new life, and let her be angry with him? Perhaps that was best. The less he knew about where she went after the castle was best.

But the real question was when. When would he do this? The answer was simple and yet too difficult to fathom. He should do it as soon as possible. But three days after his return from the England Realm, nearly a week after Jefferson had stopped by with Grace, nothing had been done. He was putting it off, he knew, but that was the worst thing he could do. The second worst thing he could do was continue their relationship as if he weren't trying to figure out how to get rid of her. He was doing both.

She still slept in her new room every night, he still moved her chair for her and she ate her breakfasts and dinners on the far side of the table. He still smiled every time the clock signaled that it was tea time. He always paused and considered not going down to see if he could make things easier and yet here he was…in the Great Room again, happy to see her for tea.

She'd been picking up some stray straw from his wheel when he stepped in, and she seemed unaware of his presence until he helped himself to tea. When she turned and saw him, she smiled. Oh, her smile made him feel like nothing ever had.

There was nothing to talk about today. No book that she'd been working on since he hadn't brought her one from England, no people they needed to argue about, no upcoming plans that they needed to discuss. He'd figured that like most days she'd sit in her chair and he'd sit in his, they'd drink their tea, perhaps have a small conversation about the weather, and then go their separate ways. She startled him when she followed him around the table and jumped up onto it. He let out a small "oh" with a gasp as she crossed her ankles, one over the other, and allowed them to swing in front of her.

"Why did you want me here?" she asked after a moment.

He tried to hide the way his heart had stopped at that question. It was an odd one, nothing like she'd asked before, nothing like anything they'd ever talked about before. And she'd asked it with such seriousness. Did she know? Did she have any clue what was going on in his mind right then about getting rid of her? On the one hand, he didn't know how she could know, but on the other hand, he wouldn't have been the least bit surprised if she did. She was gifted like that.

"Place was filthy," he joked before taking a sip of tea. He watched her carefully, trying to see if she'd let on to anything, but all she did was smirk with amusement. Her body language told him nothing.

"I think you were lonely," she stated boldly, nearly making him choke on his tea. "I mean, any man would be lonely."

Lonely…first his heart had nearly stopped now it took off again at a speed that would make a prized thoroughbred jealous. She knew something. But what? Was it to do with sending her away or was it something else?

"I'm not a man," he corrected, leaning up against the table beside her despite the fact that every voice in his head, every cell in his brain was telling him to get away from her. If she sensed what he thought she did, then being closer to her wouldn't help things. It might make them worse.

Still, he longed to know; not to guess but to actually know! What was it that she knew? Why had she asked these questions? Why was she bringing up loneliness?! The image of her in white flashed in his head again. Was it too late?

"So, I've had, um, a couple of months to look around, you know. And, uh…upstairs…there's uh…clothing. Small…as if for a child?"

Women. She was everywhere now, wasn't she. From why she was there to loneliness, and now onto a subject he'd rather not divulge to her, but…maybe that was it! Maybe this was what she knew! He hadn't spoken Baelfire's name, not in her presence, but they'd had conversations that revolved around him. Two that he could think of, one on Bae's birthday and the other when they'd stood in front of that mirror and she asked about his family. But if she knew, then why was she asking? He hadn't said much to her about his son, hadn't given her details, but that wasn't out of the ordinary. He didn't like to talk about his son around others for fear they'd use the information against him, but Belle…he didn't actually think she had a cruel bone in her body. And even if she did, who was she going to tell? Her friend the Blue Fairy? She already knew. The only person she'd ever come face to face with was him.

And it would be nice to have someone he could trust, to be able to speak his boy's name out loud again! What would she do if she knew? What would she think of him? How would she react? Would she care? Would she help him?

"Was it yours?" she prodded when he said nothing. "Or was there a son?"

A son. She knew. She'd gotten so far into his life that she already knew. There was no point in lying about it.

"There was," he admitted as his voice caught. He could hardly believe he'd said the words. "There was a son. I lost him…as I did his mother."

For half a second, the world seemed frozen as he waited for something bad to happen. For the image of her face to melt away before him and reveal some wicked villain who was dead set on keeping him from Baelfire and wanted to steal the Curse. Or worse, for her to touch him; to put a hand on his shoulder or throw her arms around his neck and gather him in closer as he mourned. There was no doubt in his mind that if she did that, he'd be lost to her. He'd give in to every urge, every to desire to touch and cry and kiss.

But fortunately, nothing happened. Nothing more than a sigh and a few words. "Um…I'm sorry." Two words. But they weren't false condolences that were so often passed around when someone lost a child or someone they knew. Her words were genuine. For Milah the grief was misplaced, but for Baelfire…he was sorry too. Still. Always. Forever.

"So…you were a man once," she muttered, changing the subject. "An ordinary man!"

Why did she need to know that? He couldn't be sure if that thought was his own or one of the voices, but there it was. This conversation was strange because it was about him. Not why he wanted her here or who his son was and why he was gone, she wanted to know about him! No one ever wanted to know about him. Why did she? Did she know something or not? Did she know what he knew?! Why did she want to know him in this way? Did she want to know him in any other ways as he so often imagined? As he hoped?

Suddenly she let out a huff next to him. "If I'm never going to know another person in my whole life…can't I at least know you?"

His throat was dry. He had tea, but he felt like his stomach was in knots. He wanted what she spoke of desperately. So desperately he was sick over it, but there were so many reasons why his answer to her should be "no", not the least of which was that he was going to send her away soon. Not soon enough, apparently. They got along now, but when he cast her out, how would she retaliate? His secrets were safe with no one but the voices in his head.

"Perhaps…" he muttered jokingly as he rose to face her and set his cup aside. "Perhaps you just want to learn the monster's weaknesses. Eh?! Eh?! Nanana!"

He smiled at her even as he teased, but she didn't respond. She didn't look insulted or taken back. She even ignored the finger he'd wagged in front of her face and kept her eyes glued to his own as she continued to beam.

"You're not a monster," she declared. "You think you're uglier than you are, that's why you cover all the mirrors up, isn't it?"

Her voice was gentle, but it was also undeniable. She'd gotten the last part wrong, but the first part…it was as if she was telling him the sky was blue or she was beautiful. She wasn't suggesting it as though it was outlandish, instead she simply stated a fact. To her at least. The idea that he wasn't a monster was an idea she shared with no one else in the world, not even himself. But it had been such a long time since anyone had seen him that way; looked at him as she was looking at him now! Not since Baelfire or even…

Margery. The night he'd gone back for her.

"I still hope and pray that one day you'll find a woman who will truly see you as Milah never did! A woman who will see beyond this."

A friend's ironic hope? A coincidence? Or strangely prophetic? Could it be her? Could she be the answer to Margery's prayers?

Or was she a problem he needed to excise sooner rather than later? Before he could respond to her, there was a knock at the door that forced them both to turn their heads. It was a good reminder.

She was such a distraction he hadn't even noticed someone had come onto his property.