#thedactivity001

[no-longer-in-kansas]

If I Only Had A Brain// FTL Self Para

Prompt: Friendship

Walking along the yellow brick road was beginning to become tedious. The scenery would change every short while, but aside from that, everything remained rather dull. She supposed the large city of...whatever they were called, possibly munchkins, was enough excitement for one day. Even so, she couldn't help but hope that she would experience something even more exciting on this little journey. 

She was walking through a cornfield, though still on the road, when the road diverged. She crossed her arms in frustration, "Well what exactly am I to do now?" Dorothy examined both paths, deciding quickly that neither looked like the better option. 

"Well you could always go that way," a voice called, nearly causing her to jump in surprise. Quickly she spun around, peering through the corn stalks. She saw nothing, aside from corn and a rather expressionless scarecrow. Huffing in frustration, she turned her attention back towards the decision at hand. Which way to go...

"Then again, you could always take the other path," that same voice spoke again. She turned and faced the scarecrow, her eyes narrowing. It's arms were now pointing in the opposite direction. "How very strange," she muttered to herself. It wasn't as if scarecrows could talk. That would be ridiculous.

Even so, this land was stranger than anything she had ever imagined, and she could not be too sure.

"Did you just...talk?" Dorothy asked aloud, trying not to feel ridiculous at the thought of her asking a scarecrow a question and expecting a response.

She waited, and he said nothing. After several minutes, she rolled her eyes. "Fine then! I'll find my own way." She turned her chin upward, marching defiantly down one path.

"Well good luck with that then," she spun around when she heard the voice again, seeing that the scarecrow's arms were now at its sides. 

"So it was you! You can talk!" She hurried over to stand next to it. "Now now, stop all this nonsense and speak to me when I'm looking at you. Its rude to talk behind people's backs you know."

After a moment, the scarecrow's face softened, "Well there aren't a whole lot of things that I know. You see, I haven't got a brain," he told her, rather matter-of-factly.

She turned her head to the side, "But that's silly. How can you talk if you don't have a brain?"

He thought for a moment, "Well, I'm not really sure. All I know is that there's nothing but a handful of stuffing in my head. No brain."

Dorothy thought for a moment; she had an idea. It was crazy perhaps, but an idea nonetheless. "Well," she began, "I'm headed to see a great Wizard, in Emerald City. He's supposed to help me find my way home, and if he is as great as people seem to think he is, maybe he can help you find yourself a brain."

The scarecrow smiled, "Really? Do you think so? Boy, what I would't give to have a brain!"

She grinned, "Alright then. We'll go to Emerald City together, and we'll see if this wizard can help the two of us."

He thought for a moment, "But if i'm going to go with you, I suppose I should know your name, miss."

She smiled, "Dorothy, you can call me Dorothy."

When he smiled back at her, it was as if her worries shrank back. Here she was, in an unfamiliar and strange land, alone. But now here was someone to keep her company; a friend. She supposed that was what she needed, to get through such a place. She had been wanting for an adventure, and perhaps friendship would be the best adventure of them all.

[thatgirlnamedmarcy]

She sat alone in her livingroom. The tree in the corner, hot chocolate in hand… her favorite holiday CD playing softly in the background. This had always been her favorite time of year… Even when it seemed that her life was turning upside down, she knew that Christmastime was the one thing that could pick her up. She loved every single thing about it… the smells, the taste, the music, the decorations… She loved the spirit. But, lately it seemed as though even that wasn’t enough.

            Christmas in itself had been enough, for as long as she could remember, to make her happy. She didn’t need a million gifts under the tree… though it would have been nice… All she wanted, truly, was someone to share the holiday with. She decorated her entire house by herself… not that it was a large house, but with her being by herself all the time, it seemed much too big. In the midst of her loneliness and busy work schedule.. she felt like she had lost Christmas.

            Most would argue that it wasn’t something that could be lost, seeing as it wasn’t a tangible object… but Marie knew exactly what she meant. She had lost the feeling. The warmness in her heart and the joy of singing or dancing, or seeing Santa at the end of the annual Storybrooke parade; none of it made her feel truly happy anymore. She missed it… She always felt like Christmas was a big deal to her… she didn’t really know why, but she knew that she loved it… everything about it… certainly more than anyone else in town, except maybe that high school teacher… but, she felt as though she could give him a run for his money.

            As she sat up in her chair, looking down at her reindeer bedroom slippers and gripping to the mug that was slowly cooling, she sighed, shaking her head before standing and making her way up to her bedroom. She wasn’t going to watch Miracle on 34th Street this year… or Rudolph, or Santa Clause is Coming to Town. She had other things to do, and as Jasper would put it ‘get her head out of the clouds and focus on work… that’s what was important anyways’.

            She could no longer find Christmas within in her, and she wondered if maybe it was because she was changing so much…. and maybe Christmas was changing too.

[peter-driscoll]

Please Don't Leave Me // FTL

Prompt: Love

At first he had been happy and relieved to see her. Then at her news he had grown upset. But then she had collapsed, and now he was scared.

Tinkerbell lay on the ground, her light flickering. He knelt next to her, a feeling of panic rising quickly within himself. What had they done to her?! Those filthy pirates. How dare they lay a hand, or hook, on Tink! He tried to suppress the anger, but to no avail.

"Bastards," He muttered, wishing with all his heart that he could kill every last pirate in Neverland. Gently, he held her face in his hands, brushing her hair back slowly. He took in her expression; she was weak, tired, and pained. Just looking at her, he felt his heart twist.

This was His precious Tinkerbell. His best friend. And now he was going to lose her...no. He pushed the unbearable thought from his mind. He was not going to let her die. That would never happen so long as he was around.

But what could he do? He was helpless. Peter had never had to deal with a fairy's light going out, and he didn't have a clue how to stop it. He was getting desperate now, his heart racing. How long could she hold out before he found a cure? Was there a cure? Surely there had to be. 

Against his will, tears began to fall down his cheeks. He watched her as she started to slowly slip out of consciousness. It was all too painful to watch. Stabbing him in the heart would have hurt far less.

He bent down and touched his forehead with hers, closing his eyes. "Tink," he whispered, his voice filled with desperation. "Tink please. Please don't leave me. Please, please, please." He was shaking now, never having been so scared in his life. His voice was hardly audible now, "Stay awake, Tink. Please."

After what seemed like an eternity, he pulled away from her, opening his eyes to look at her again. Her light was hardly there. Another minute and it would completely fade. He had to do something, but then, what was there that he could do? 

Helplessness, desperation, and rage mixed inside of him, and he let out a loud scream. Tears began to fall harder. There was no hope. He felt like he was drowning. 

In silence, he looked back down at her, a sad smile forming on his lips. He took her hands in his, holding them gently, but firmly. He watched as her light left her, his happiness leaving along with it. Tinkerbell was his best friend, and he...he loved her. In that moment, he felt his heart beat faster. He loved her! That was it! He had always heard of love being used to break curses, so was this really that different? It might be crazy, but it might just work. 

Carefully, he leaned forward, taking in her face once more, before pressing his lips gently to hers. A wave of energy, or magic, poured out of the kiss, filling the area around them. As quickly as the magic at appeared, it was gone. 

He heard her intake of breath, and pulled back quickly, watching her. Her eyes blinked open, and she looked up at him, not saying anything. Peter couldn't help the grin that formed on his features, or the tears of relief which fell down his cheeks. He had done it; she was alright. Tink was saved. And as he looked into her eyes, he thought that she had never looked more beautiful.

He could have stayed there forever, just him and Tink, but her initial message entered his thoughts once more. The pirates had to be stopped. At least he would get to seek revenge for what they had done to Tinkerbell.

He stood quickly, "Tink, please stay here. Stay safe. I'm going after Hook." He paused for a moment before continuing, "Thank you, Tink. For everything." With that, he took off into the air, flying towards the location of the Jolly Roger.

He smiled faintly to himself. "I love you, Tinkerbell," he whispered.

[blackswansasha]

Minds Think Alike | Jefferson & Sasha

She didn't quite remember how she'd gotten out of the little apartment above the pharmacy to wander into the forest, but she didn't regret it either. Father had taken to locking the doors before she could even consider it, so perhaps she'd picked the lock, a trick she'd taught herself over the last 28 years. Dew dampened her shoes and twigs caught on her cardigan, but none of it made her want to turn back. The forest was deep and dark and beautiful, and Sasha had always known that she was the only frightening thing in these woods. The moon gave enough light, but she didn't need it, knew exactly where she was going.

Sasha had spent most of her life, as the years went by, plotting ways to murder her own father. At first it started out as a simple way to pass the time, a fascination with serial killers, fatal medical cocktails, woodland toxins, and the subtlety of poison becoming refined skills and knowledge. She was not weak enough to call what he gave her emotional abuse, because she'd grown up strong with it either way. Always strong, always better than him. She hated him, and would see the day she'd end his life, one way or another. Sasha reached the Wishing Well on top of the hill and kicked a stone straight across the clearing, when the snap of a branch and the outline of another human stepped out from the shadows. Pulling on her mask of feigned innocence once more, she called out timidly into the night. "W-who's there?"

[thefairestsnowhite]

She hated sleeping now. No matter how hard she tried, she couldn't get passed the fear of the room on fire that she visited every night in her dreams. It felt so real… as if she would burn if she moved from the very spot she awoke in. So, she always stayed there… in the corner, alone and afraid. She gave up screaming the after the third time, but somehow she always woke up in a sweat, with David by her side.

            She tried going back to sleep, curled up in a ball in her corner, away from the fire and smoke. But those nightmares were worse. She’d see her kingdom burning… her friends all die, and the people she loved most suffer by the flame. It hurt her heart so much that she’d wake up from her nightmare inside the dream, and much prefer the burning room. It wasn't until she was awake in Charming’s arms that she felt safe again… and if she could help it… she would never go back to sleep again.  

            She lasted five days with no sleep, against David’s wishes, but it was becoming a lost cause as the curse of exhaustion swept over her in the night, and she knew without a doubt that this time would be the worst of all. As her eyelids slowly came together, she could feel herself sink into the deep tranquility that would soon turn to fear and angst… she didn't even have a chance to stop herself before she was waking up in the burning room again.

            The flames were reaching the ceiling, and she could feel the smoke filling her chest. It was useless… no matter what she did she couldn't escape the fire. She saw it everywhere… even when she was awake, she could see the flames, hollowing her soul and those around her. She’d gotten too close to the heat, and she felt like her heart was bleeding out with all the hurt that she held in everyday… with the hatred that she didn't want to feel and the sadness that she tried so hard to suppress. She fell to her knees, tears streaming down her face as she let out an echoing cry towards the smoke that surrounded her.

“IT’S NOT REAL!!” she called out, her eyes still closed shut. “It’s not real… it’s not real.”

But she knew it was… It was a result of the sleeping curse her step mother had put her under… and right now she’d much rather be back in that glass coffin. She bent down, hugging her knees, trying to ignore the dancing figures of the ones she held most dear, burning in the flames. Seven Dwarves; the men who had come to be her brothers, David… the love of her life, her father, her mother… her kingdom… her people; they were all suffering in the fire, and she couldn't do anything to stop it.

            Then, as if he were an angel… she could feel the soft touch of David’s hand on her cheek, and she opened her eyes to see that she was awake and in his arms… right where she was supposed to be…

“It’s okay… Snow. It’s okay. Shh.” He calmed her, rubbing her head and rocking back and forth on the bed, cradling her like the fragile girl she was right now. But, all she could do was stare out the window, the most horrified of looks expressed through her features. “What’s wrong, Snow? What is it?” he asked, looking in the direction that her eyes were fixated. She just closed her eyes for a second and took a deep breath, looking back out the window before speaking in a hushed tone.

“I see fire.”

[wesley-robinhood]

Nightly Awakenings || Self-Para

Wesley settled in his standard queen size bed, the room comfortably bathed in darkness. Sleep hygiene was something he prided himself in adhering to for a good night’s sleep meant a good workday. It was something that was hard to come by most nights, though for the life of him he couldn’t understand why. Some nights he slept well enough, others not so much. Without fail he’d rouse from his deep sleep, and in the middle of a nice REM cycle no less, to an overwhelming sense of panic. Other times fear. But usually he’d clutch his right flank as if subconsciously expecting blood and ripped flesh to be there. It was merely an old scar, from his college days he’d tell himself. Then he’d settle in for a fitful few hours before his alarm blared him awake.

This was what he knew.

This was what he felt, which was really nothing. For those nights it was like a dreamlike state was wiped clean.

*-~-*

Robin breathed in deeply, as deeply as he could without straining his bruised and beaten ribs. It was a fool’s errand, coming to the Dark One’s castle. He thought he could trick the Dark One into stealing a potion. He was a fool, and worse…he was a caught fool.

With bound hands straining against magically tied rope that attached to a hanging chain, he moved every so often to get the circulation flowing. His body ached, he was tired. Weak. Wounds wept of pus and fresh blood.

He slept.

He woke. Woke to scorching fire and sizzled skin branding open. Someone somewhere was screaming as if they were being murdered, and it surprised Robin to find out it was him doing the screaming. Soon the screams stopped, only because his voice fell away and left in its place an inflamed throat.

He slept again, it was merely a moment till the imp came back with a fresh apron and a red hot poker. Its voice a mixture of childish laughter and creepy darkness. That same laughter rang in his ears as Rumpelstiltskin skewered his barely healed multiple wounds. The smell of burnt flesh filled the small room and Robin, though he tried his best, fell unconscious.

*-~-*

Jolting awake, Wesley’s hand gripped his chest as if it harbored some secret flesh wound. There was nothing but a scar and labored breathing long past four in the morning. Jotting down ‘Dream state: unknown’ in his dream journal he kept faithfully on his end table, he slammed it shut and pinched the bridge of his nose. Perhaps he’d get two more hours of sleep. Perhaps. 

[rubyredlucas]

Curse that falls on young lovers | drabble

You're watching the world on four paws the first time you see him. He's surrounded by the pack, by Anita's pack and the witch queen, and you're certain you're going to be killed, but that doesn't stop your foolish mind from thinking that collecting that fallen box is a good idea. And he protects you, for reasons unknown. You are a monster undeserving of patience, kindness, defence, or love, and it's him who raises his bow in their direction to allow your escape. You think he must be daft.

You're running with the wind at your paws when he finds you again. He smells of burnt sugar and pine needles beneath the witch queen's armour, and you shift back to two feet almost involuntarily because you know this isn't a good idea but you need to understand what a queen's man is doing following a child of the moon. You move swiftly, stepping only on soft earth to sneak up and hold your blade to his throat, his scent permeating your senses and you know you'll never forget it. He says he's not going to hurt you, he calls you wolf, he's not afraid of you, and you call him stupid.

You remove your blade as he confesses the contents of the box. And you can hardly believe it until you open it yourself, the throbbing orb of magic casting red light around you. He says he lost his heart to the queen for keeping Snow White alive and well, and you feel your stomach drop, your regret bubble bile up your throat. He sees your reaction, he knows your yellow eyes, and he isn't afraid of you. You call him foolish, and he just grins, teeth glimmering like the weapons he hides, and promises to help you and your Snow.

You and your pack, your Snow, meet with the Huntsman again. He still smells of burnt sugar without the armour, and you think you like it but you tell yourself you can't because he works for her and it's wrong. He's handsome in the way you wouldn't notice at first, with big dark eyes like bottomless pools, and when he smiles it's the most unexpected thing. He watches you, expecting the wolf to make an appearance, but you're better than that, you're strong. You think for a minute it's admiration, but his sugar smell and kind eyes have you confused and you know he's just gaping like the rest of them do. He's still not afraid of you, and you think he must be plain dumb.

You try not to feel pity for this foolish man and his lack of a heart, but when he finally decides to take it back, that glowing orb of magic that throbs in your palm, you feel indebted to break him from his curse after all he's done for you and your pack. He's different after he's whole again, a light in his eyes you never noticed before. The Huntsman has always been kind and you have always been cold to him, you don't fail to notice that he only smiles for you, and no matter how much you insist you're a monster he's still not afraid of you, and for a moment you believe him. You call him thick.

You step carefully though the slush of ice as your Snow catches up, her cloak catching the last of her nakesake. You're in awe of the beauty of the lake, and when Snow calls it romantic, you ignore her, ignore the trust and loyalty built between yourself and this strange man. You and the Huntsman and your Snow run from the witch queen. You fall beneath the ice of Lake Onondaga and the Huntsman's totem makes you grow scales and fins, and you call him stupid.

You emerge from the lake and shed your scales to grow back into your fur, the feeling of gills and fins foreign to a wolf. Your Snow is used to it, and she calls you as beautiful and dangerous as the icicles around your camp, glittering teeth and ease to kill, but the Huntsman says nothing, just watches in awe. It is Wolfstime and you can't quite shift back yet, so you can only listen as he tells you of his childhood, of his wolf family. It's not awe that he watches you with, but familiarity, admiration, and when you finally shed your fur and curl up at his side, maybe even desire too. Maybe he's not quite as dumb as you thought.

You have almost made it out with your Snow and your Huntsman, free for a little longer from the grasps of the witch queen, but she captures the pack you so mercilessly left without a leader, and threatens to kill them. Your Huntsman says he knows what she wants, and with each passing second you feel your heart break like the ice you once fell through, because you know and dreaming that you could have kept him was foolish. You beg for the first time in your life, beg him to stay, because you know she'll take his heart again and there will be nothing you can do about it. He is solemn and he is brave and your Huntsman insists that if you and Snow stay safe, then maybe he can withstand it all.

You aren't even allowed true love's kiss before he is whisked away and you are sprinting on four paws, away from the witch queen, away from your broken heat, away from the tears that blind your sight. Snow says that you will find him and remind him who his heart really belongs to, but it's another pipe dream. You howl when you know his heart is taken again, you cry when the curse comes and you know you won't ever see him again. Because you are a monster and you killed good people and you don't deserve the second chance your Huntsman gave you.

[themadhatterscurse]

Misguided Ghosts || Emma & Jefferson

It was more than hard to be in a city filled with people who didn't believe in what he was saying - Jefferson's cast off as insane maniac who talked in riddles, threw tantrums, and listened to no one. The question he would ask them all, however, would be how far would they go for their child? He was facing that question with every second that ticked on... and since Emma Swan came, it's been ticking. The clock was moving and that meant there would be hope, there could be magic; he could go back home and take his daughter - his Grace with him to be the man he was meant to be... a father who would never, ever, leave his daughter. It was frustrating to see her day in and day out, happy with a family that wasn't hers, to want for nothing when all he wanted was her - she was his everything.

"I've got to get magic, I've got to believe, why does no one believe! Believe, believe. Time's ticking, time's a wasting!" he exclaimed to himself in a hushed tone as his hands moved over his head to ruffle his hair (like one would do when they were quite frustrated - which he was). His hands moved frantically over his mouth as he shook his head furiously he could feel his brain rattling on the inside of his head. "Calm, calm, you're out in public Jefferson!" Scowling furiously at himself, he took in a breath as he shook his head and pulled his hands up to his face to stare at them. "Jefferson, Jefferson, are you really Jefferson, Hatter?" Laughing to himself as he shoved his hands angrily into his pockets, he shook his head.

The realities were conflicting, almost always fighting each other and often times he would wake up and have to remind himself of who he was: He was 'The Mad Hatter' and travelled between worlds, doing people's biddings to live the life that he wanted to. He lost his wife, gave up his profession, and foraged for mushrooms with his daughter, Grace, to sell at the market. He would do anything for his daughter, including leaving her to go to Wonderland with The Evil Queen. She betrayed him, he was left in Wonderland -- but somehow, somehow, he made it here in Storybrooke, where he was no better off than he was in Wonderland. There was no magic - he needed magic to make it work.

For a long time he stayed in his mansion, known as the old man who lived in the mansion on top of the hill - no one knew him, no one bothered him, and everyone just left him alone. But Emma, oh Emma, glorious Emma came into the town and he just got that much closer to getting his life back. It was all he wanted, all he ever wanted. If someone, anyone, would give him his life back, his Grace back, he would never bother a soul again. But it wasn't going to happen that way.

"Oof!" Bumping into the Deputy (by all means an accident, really!), Jefferson's eyes become wide eyed as a manic grin touches his lips for a second, before fading back into a frown. "Oh, my dear, my poor sweet dear. I'm terribly sorry about this, Miss. I've just been, well, lost in my thoughts that never seem to end. You know the deal..." As his sentence drifts off, his lips become a fine line. "Are you okay, Miss?" His mind was working at a hundred miles per hour - the gears were turning. There's hope.