#ec ff

I’m not even sorry. Blame @the-notsoevil-queen, She coulda talked me out of this. She chose not to. Thanks to @ninzied @dee-thequeenbee and @belleoftheballpoint for suffering so that this was grammatically correct.

When Whale brings back Daniel, Regina pays the price.

Season 2 divergent. Because I can. Major character death ahead lads. Don’t say I didn’t warn you. Usual warnings that come with character deaths. Graphic as fuck descriptions of blood, and yeah, shit goes wrong in the stables with Daniel guys, tread lightly, I guess?

She never saw this coming.

She’s thought about death and how, eventually, it would come for her often throughout her years. As a child, too young to understand why Mother’s room behind the fireplace was off limits (just that it was), Regina had had nightmares of Cora ripping out her small, developing heart for getting grass stains on her petticoats. She’d daydreamed about slipping beneath the surface of her bath water as Queen and never coming back up, of slipping over the balcony railings and falling down, down, down into blackness and away from humiliation and pain night after night. But a servant would ultimately knock on the door, or a fairy with misguided good intentions would catch her, and eventually Regina stopped courting Death and became her.

Pitchforks and burning at stakes is honestly how she imagined this would go. Especially since the curse broke and everything she held dear shattered around her by her own fucking hands. She didn’t think it would happen like this, because of him, and she was starting to hope—she let it twist and carve its way into her being—that she might yet live to see her son forgive her.

She really should be used to being wrong by now.

You stupid, insolent, little girl, Mother’s voice hisses. Did you really believe you could have this?

Daniel is in ashes at her feet, and Regina has one hand over her mouth and one over her midriff, vainly trying to keep the blood in. The shears that he’d lodged deep into her gut, once, twice before she’d managed to stop him—kill him—clatter to the floor, staining it with drops of red. Where did he get those? is all she has time to think before her knees give out.

My CSSV project is being a little butt right now and I was thinking about those soulmate aus but for Dorothy and Lucas. So here is what happened with that (unbeta-d and completely unplanned).

Prompt: Soulmate AU where Person A gets a tattoo as soon as she sees Person B for the first time and vice versa.

Dorothy has never really believed in fate or luck or destiny- there wasn’t some divine providence or puppet master pulling her strings. Every decision she’s ever made was because she felt in her gut it was right, so when her adoptive parents kept pestering her about every man she ever came across-questioning if she noticed any new markings on her skin- Dorothy laughed and diverted the subject. Soulmates was a fantasy and she wasn’t a kid anymore. She was going to make her own way in life, and she was going to be...more.

(Whatever that was supposed to mean).

That was before a freak tornado ripped her whole world apart and deposited her in the nightmarish version of a stupid musical with a gun and a German Shepard. But nothing has changed, she was still Dorothy Gale and she was going to go home- no matter the cost. 

Finding her soulmate was the last thing on her mind. 

But as it turns out, the universe has other plans, because as soon as helps down the man tragically hung up left for dead, she almost cries out in pain as she feels the skin right above her hip burn. 

After treating him the best that she can with what little she had, she leaves him to rest and examine the new mark on her hip. She knew what it meant. She felt like she should have been happy. But she was in unknown land, with no way to go home, the only thing that came to mind when she looked at the basic sword tattooed on her skin was: Shit.

---

“So Lucas is home?” 

He watched Dorothy nod shyly and he couldn’t help but feel his face light up at the sight.

“Lucas it is then.”

Lucas, it was strange, but...comforting. His body was still sore from whatever had transpired before Dorothy saved him. He felt as if the cuts on his skin were screaming at him to stop moving. Before he cleaned himself up with what little rags he had managed to scrounge up, he couldn’t tell which scars were new and which were old. He didn’t know if the thorned rose imprinted on his chest was recent or something he had done earlier in his life. And what did it mean?

But it didn’t matter, whatever his life was in the past it held nothing in comparison to the way his heart seemed to pump every time he caught her eye as they started the long journey to Emerald City or the protective feeling he got every time she put herself recklessly in danger. 

So, this is my first time writing fanfiction, so let me know what you think! 

I love emerald city so much and I’m still upset that Lucas doesn’t know what he actually looks like!

The snow was still falling softly through their makeshift camp, but Dorothy didn’t feel the cold. She was warm and content, tucked against Lucas’s side. His arm was snuggly wrapped around her waist as they lay on the forest floor, and, for the first time since she was torn away from Kansas, she couldn’t imagine being anywhere else.

They had kissed, slow and perfect, until she had lost track of time. It was dark, when they finally broke away from each other. Lucas had breathlessly said that they get some sleep. She nodded, but instead of laying down next to Sylvie, she’d curled up next to him. He had frozen briefly before relaxing.

Now, they were wrapped up in each other. Dorothy was enjoying the warmth of Lucas’s body and the way he was circling his thumb against the small of her back.

“Dorothy?” Lucas asked, squeezing her hip.

“Hm?” She looked up at him, realizing she missed something. “What’d you say?”

Summary: He has no right to ask anything of her, but he must somehow convince her to return with him to Oz. Can he find the words that will make her trust him in time? A Dorothy x Lucas/Roan one-shot. (Contains spoilers for the season 1 finale!) Also available on AO3.

“I’ve come to take you home.”

Her brows rose in a look of incredulity, “And what, you think I’m just going to go with you?”

The fear behind her eyes when she looked at him cut far deeper than any battle wound he’d endured. He didn’t dare reach for her, didn’t dare speak her name. She took an uncertain step backwards, putting another foot of space between them, and he swallowed down the apology that stuck in his throat.

There weren’t words enough to make right what he’d done. Even if she found it in her heart to forgive him he would never again be granted passage into the fortress she’d erected around her heart. She’d thrown her walls up so high they were nearly impenetrable. The warmth had evaporated from her soft brown eyes, replaced by suspicion and doubt.

Summary: Jack visits Langwidere’s room and discovers more than he expected to. Spoilers for 1x07.

(I got inspired by a meta from the other day and had to get it all down). 

It was the grandest room he’d ever seen. Jack’s eyes cast upward in amazement at the height of the ceiling above their heads. He’d never known a room could be so tall. But the opulence didn’t end there. Gilded mirrors, an impressive chandelier, and every possible edge, curve and piece of furniture covered in gold. It proved a stunning contrast to the tall urns filled to the brim with crimson red roses. They were the colour of blood, he thought, and couldn’t remember ever seeing a flower that looked more somber.

Remnants: Confessions

(Remnants in it’s entirety can be read here)

It just slipped out while they’d been kissing.

It hadn’t even been a passionate kiss, not one born of naked skin and sweat-slicked bodies, not one filled with the heated breath and clashing teeth. It had been a small showing of affection, no more than a peck on the cheek, actually, one given while Neal sat at the table in his booster seat while Nadia remained perched on her mother’s hip, one received over a stove where pancakes rose and bacon sizzled.

“I love you.”

The shock still encompasses them, and she’s not certain whose eyes are rounder. Her legs shake beneath her, threatening to give way at any moment as her pounding heart presses tears from her heart to her eyes within seconds.

“Oh, God.”

Her words tremble, and he clasps them to his chest with a tenderness she’s helpless to resist. His hand is now warm on her cheek, and she spies it in his eyes–conflict mixed with peace, the same emotions that rule her life now that David and Neal have become such an essential part of it. Her breath is uneven, yet his is steady, and she fights giving in to its pull, the pull that is David, the safety that is Charming, the need inside her that gnaws at her insides with a ferocity she’d believed forever lost to her after Robin left town with Marian.

Then his fingers stroke her cheek, and she’s melting, she feels it, her atoms rearranging themselves without her permission into emotions engulfing everything she is, like ivy overtaking old stone walls and forcing life back into hollow crevices. She can’t move, can’t breathe, and she wonders just why she’d exposed herself to feelings that have inevitably led to her downfall time and time again.

Love isn’t weakness, but it leaves one vulnerable to pain.

Yet she’s here, and so is he, whole somehow in spite of the scars and bruises they’ll both bear for life. His arms are now around her, and there is nothing in the world for a few blessed seconds except them–the two of them and their children–and she wishes she could freeze time again as she had once before, that she could cling to David, Neal and Nadia, that Henry would accept them as she hopes he will, that fears of losing this would simply vanish as suddenly as her happiness has so many times in her past.

Then his breath is on her temple, his fingers in her hair, and she gives in to the inevitable as warm lips form words on her skin that take root in her heart and bloom through the ashes.

Written for @evilcharmingweek Day One

Read on ff.net

No. It was the only thought in David's head as the darkness swirled around Regina. Consuming her, devouring, destroying. They'd been through too much; fought too hard for their ending to be a horrific twist of fate that would take them back to the beginning, back to the manic rage of the Evil Queen. He couldn't look away from her, hardly noticed anything else that was going on around him. Regina was curled in on herself, terror evident in her every feature. He willed her to look at him, to focus on anything, but she looked everywhere and nowhere at the same time. He knew only one thing for certain: she wouldn't survive this.

When it came down to it there hadn't really been a choice. He was the hero, after all, the prince, the white night. In the end he was the friend and the father. So it came to down to him, down to a split second decision that had him reaching out with steady fingers, pulling the dagger from Emma's hand, and allowing the darkness to take him away. He never heard the screams of the three women he left behind.

He hadn't thought about the consequences. Had never imagined he'd be ripped from his land, sent back to the Enchanted Forest alone, empty and full at the same time. He hadn't expected the power constantly bubbling under skin, never imagined it could feel so damn good. David felt he understood Regina now more than ever: her wild desires, her unchecked authority. It all came down to control. He came from a world where everything was constantly threatened, where the safety and protection of his family, his kingdom, his town, his hope, had always been hard fought and rarely won. He could change that now, could manipulate fate with a flick of his finger. It was addicting. How had Regina been so afraid of this? How had she ever let it go?

"It would have ended me." David turned to see Regina standing behind him. Her eyes widened at his appearance, but she wouldn't let herself look away. He'd done this for her, become this so she didn't have to.

"Regina! You're here!" David closed the space between them, engulfing her in his arms. "How did you get here?"

"I…" she started, but there was no need to finish. She could feel David in her head, poking around, reading her thoughts before they became words. She couldn't have stopped him, she could have tried, made it more difficult for him to prod and probe, but what would have been the point? She hadn't come here to keep secrets from him.

"You came to get this out of me?" he asked her needlessly.

"You saved me, David," Regina took his hands in her own. They were cold; his hands were never cold. "Let me do the same for you."

"I don't want to be saved, Regina," David shook his head, laughing with manic eyes. He was excited, giddy even, and so very dangerous. "I get it now, I do. What you can do, what you can feel? It's so much more. Everything is so much more. I don't need to be saved."

"Like hell you don't," she interrupted. "Look at yourself, David. Look!" she waved her hand and a mirror appeared before them. For the first time, David saw his new self. It wasn't what he'd expected. There was a golden sheen to his skin, his eyes were dark, jeans and flannels replaced with heavy leathers, but the new Dark One didn't seem to find the changes nearly as disturbing as the woman next to him.

David smiled once more at his reflection before snapping his fingers and transforming himself into Prince Charming. "Is this better?" he asked her innocently, sweeping his fur lined cloak towards her. "Or perhaps this?" Another snap and he is David Nolan freshly awoken from his curse induced coma; the man that almost kissed her in her kitchen. "You wanted this," he taunts, stepping close. "You could have it now. I could give you whatever you want." His lips are so close they brush her cheek with each word.

"I want my friend back." Regina plants her hands on his chest, pushing him back so that they're no longer breathing the same air.

"We were never just friends, Regina. You can't deny that. There's always been something." He steps close again, cups her cheek, and leans in to whisper in her ear. "Even when you were trying to kill me. Did you ever ask yourself why you couldn't get the job done?" His tongue slips out to lick behind her earlobe, nipping and sucking his way down her jaw.

"This isn't you." Regina tried to step away again, but he's holding her firmly against him with a hand behind her neck, the other making its way to her backside.

"Maybe it is," he said against her neck. "Maybe this is what I was always supposed to be."

"The David I know would never say that. Let me bring him back." Regina wiggled out of his old. She had to do this before she lost her nerve, before the promises he was making became impossible to refuse.

"Or," he pulled her close again, transporting them both to the bed chambers of her castle. "You could join me. Think of what we could do together." When the smoke cleared he once again appeared as the Dark One and she as the evil queen.

Regina shoved away from him, almost tripping over the heavy skirts and too high heels she was no longer accustomed to wearing. "Think of what we've done together!" her screams echoed around the stone walls. "You and me. David and Regina. You did this to save me from the Evil Queen and now you dress me up like some doll?" She swept her arms up, her magic righting her appearance to someone much less deadly than her former self. "I know what you're feeling, David. I know how good the power feels, but you can't give into it. You helped me. You helped me find myself again and get back my son. I'm not leaving here until I can take YOU back to your daughter."

"I haven't lost Emma!" he yelled right back in her face. Mirrors shattered all around him; the dark magic was coming off of him in waves.

"She's afraid of you, of what you're becoming. So is Snow." She took a cautious step toward him, glass crunched under her feet.

"But you're not." He closed the distance between them, settled his arm against the small of her back and leaned his forehead against hers.

"Of course I am," her voice shook with the confession. "I'm terrified."

David's fingers brushed against her cheek, then slid down to her neck. His fingers paused, pressing over her pulse point. "Your heart is racing," he whispered, sliding his hand further down to her chest, reaching in to feel her heart.

Regina gasped at the intrusion, but didn't pull away. Instead, she wound an around his neck, her other hand loosely circling his wrist where it disappeared into her chest. He wasn't squeezing.

David closed his eyes to the feel of her heart fluttering wildly against his fingers. This was life: so small, so fragile, so frantic and in the palm of his hand. He could crush it. It wouldn't take any effort at all. One gentle squeeze and there would be no one left to stop him.

There would be no one left to stop him.

His thoughts were racing. She was the only one who had come, the only one who had dared to face the raw power of the Dark One. His fingers tightened their grip without him realizing. He was squeezing harder and harder until Regina's whimpers broke through his trance.

"David. Please." She was still leaning against him, not moving an inch save for her fingers running through the hair just above his color, pulling to try to get him to focus. "I know you're still in there. This isn't you," she was barely whispering, her panted breath warming his face, tears falling freely between them.

You know how to get this out of me? He wasn't speaking, but Regina heard him plainly; his voice was in her head, in her heart.

"I know where to start," she gritted out, squeezing desperately at his wrist as the pain in her chest was becoming too much to bear.

He released her heart as gently as he could, retracted his hand and let it rest where she held it against her chest. Regina sagged against him, muscles tense from holding so still for so long. His grip on her waist tightened enough to support her while her breathing evened out. David took their hands from her chest, guided them to the dagger secured to his waist. "Take it," he urged, squeezing her fingers against the hilt. "Don't let me hurt anyone else."

Who did you hurt? she thought but couldn't say. She had hoped she had gotten to him time, hoped that she could spare him the pain and regret of taking a life, of using power to hurt and destroy.

He stepped back once the dagger was safely in her grasp. Back, but not away. He watched her watch the dagger in her hands; he listened to the thoughts of failure and remorse running through her mind. But she was wrong; he hadn't yet gone that far. David extended his hand, tipping her chin up to meet his eyes. "You. I hurt you, and I don't want to do that."