Desperate Souls: Chapter One

Summary:

Notes:

I barely heard the pathetic little rap on the front entrance of the Dark Castle. Whenever I spin, I fall deep into a vortex. To forget. But the faint knocking continued and after I magicked myself down to the foyer, I snapped my fingers and the door swung open.

A cloaked creature tumbled at my feet unable to rise.

“What the hell do you want?” I demanded. The rain was lashing against the windows, the clouds rumbled above, and my visitor was soaked to the bone. “Well?” My shout echoed throughout the castle.

“Please, Dark One, please help me! I didn’t know who else to go to!” A familiar feminine voice responded.

I flicked back her hood, curled my finger under her chin, and raised her head up. Belle of Avonlea was humbled before me, bruised and bloodied. She was one of those pesky heroes who roamed the countryside, bent on liberating the people from the clutches of us villains. Snow White and Prince David led the heroes. How Belle of Avonlea joined them, I don’t know, but from the start she was different from the rest. She rarely carried a weapon; she preferred books and trickery to brute force.

I’ve had a few encounters with the sly little minx. Once, I was on my way to the Evil Queen’s to pay a call and Belle ambushed me out of nowhere, and plunged a dagger in my back. The one time she carries a weapon! Well, it wasn’t much of an ambush. I could sense her presence, heard her panting for breath, her feet hitting every infernal twig in the whole damn forest. She wanted to slay the beast.

I jerked the dagger out of my skin and spinning around, pinned her against the tree. Were she anyone else, I’d have slit her pretty throat right then and there. Let her blood soak the ground, a warning for the heroes of what awaited them if they attempted something so foolhardy. But I peered into her eyes and despite her intentions, her heart and spirit were pure. She only wanted to do good. Rid the world of evil and whatnot. The deep calleth unto the deep, my perverse little soul was drawn to hers.

Rather than cut her, I leaned in and kissed her softly. She gasped against my lips and when I backed away, releasing her, she didn’t wipe my kiss off. Actually, she licked her lips. Not my finest moment, for all I knew she would tell others I had grown soft and had feelings for her. I didn’t; I just wanted to ruffle her feathers. Vex her, confuse her, tease her. Belle stood there, palm on chest, breathing heavily, befuddled at my actions. She then scampered off, back to her group of heroes.

The next time I saw her, I was going to and fro following the heroes spying on them, fully invisible. None of them knew I was there. They couldn’t. Well, Belle of Avonlea somehow detected I was there. She kept looking in my direction, wearing the identical expression she wore after I kissed her. She couldn’t see me, but her pure soul sensed my wretched one. She could have alerted the heroes of my presence. Should have, if she had any loyalty to them. Not that they could have done anything to subdue me. But she could have warned them to stop talking. Yet she didn’t. She let them ramble about their futile plans. I went on my way, knowing precisely how to thwart their future strikes against me.

The third time, I had taken on the form of one of their own and heard the fools discussing invading my Dark Castle. To take me down. Make me their slave. Control me and have all the power in the realm. Belle of Avonlea claimed to know how, having gleaned special knowledge from an ancient book in an obscure language. It was a ruse. She blatantly lied to them and they believed her. They failed.

That last encounter was over a week ago.

“Please, they will kill me. Please.” Belle whimpered.

Tears eked out from beneath her purple swollen lids. Her lovely face was bloodied and if I wasn’t all knowing, I wouldn’t have recognized her. She wouldn’t last much longer on her own. Hell, she was half-dead already. Only the gods knew what trouble she had gotten herself into. Or what trouble she was about to get into now that she was in my custody.

I couldn’t bear her crying. I scooped her up in my arms, silently commanded the door to close, and carried her up to one of the bed chambers. Not that I felt sorry for her. Oh no, for I had great plans for Belle of Avonlea.

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I originally listed Anthony Trollope but cut him in favor of Oscar Wilde for reasons (Wilde is better, imo). So, if your favorite 19th Century English Lit author isn't listed, you can yell at me in the comments, or reblogs, or through an ask.

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Finding Home

A03

Synopsis:  Tilly Jones may or may not have killed someone…she can’t remember. But then when she meets Margot, she is able to discover the truth, and she finds love along the way.

Notes: Dedicated to @onceuponanovel.Special, special thanks to @mariequitecontrarie for all of her beta work on this. As well as providing the title for this story.This is my first Curious Archer fic. I usually write Rumbelle fics, but when I saw Curious Archer in Season 7, I thought they were adorable and wanted to try and write for them. Apologies if it falls short in any way.

Tilly passed the large troll beneath the bridge for the third time, uncertain if she should hang around or return to her boxcar. She had been wandering the city for hours and now the dark shroud of night had descended. Feathery brown clouds covered the moon and only the dim streetlights lit her path. She paused for a moment, before she started pacing around the bridge again, her lithe frame too keyed up with unspent energy to be stationary for long. Hugging herself, she sank her two front teeth into her lower lip, tears threatening to sprout.

Images, like quick film cuts, flashed through her mind. They were disjointed and foggy, and she couldn’t be certain, but she may have just killed someone.

She remembered going to the bakery to buy a small cake for herself and the next thing she knew she was standing over the little old lady, with a bloodied butcher knife in her hand. She could easily recall the unblinking eyes of the dead lady, the weight of the butcher knife, and the crimson sheen on the blade. But for the life of her, she couldn’t remember plunging the knife into the woman’s frail chest. The last thing she could recall was throwing the knife on the floor and dashing out of the bakery.

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A03

Mariequitecontrarie: Maybe Belle could confess her feelings and Gold does something stupid to make her think they aren’t returned?

Author’s Note: This is a very belated birthday present for @mariequitecontrarie. Apologies for it taking me this long. 

Belle paced another lap around the sitting room. She couldn’t sit still. All day she had been fidgety. Mr. Gold should be home any time now. Grabbing fistfuls of her apron, she wrung it fretfully. It had taken her several hours, but she had come to the point that though Mr. Gold would want her to leave, she had to have her say. She would apologize for forcing a kiss upon him and then she would confess her love for him. Yes, that is the right thing to do. Having spent several hours in prayer, she felt that God would want her to be honest with the man she loved.

Bae was at a friends for supper and that would provide her and Mr. Gold plenty of time to talk. The boy had feigned sickness, but he quickly recovered after his father mentioned going for the doctor. Whatever it was, Bae felt well enough to play at Emma’s. Belle figured it had something to do with avoiding his lessons.

The door creaked and Mr. Gold came in. “Belle?” After he shed his coat and hat, hanging them up on the peg, Belle noted how quickly the color rose to his thin cheeks. “Are you all right?”

“Yes.” Belle advanced towards him and froze when he backed away. The last thing she wanted was to make him uncomfortable. “Mr. Gold, I want to apologize for what happened a few mornings ago.”

“W-what?” Mr. Gold sputtered, “W-why should you a-apologize?”

“I kissed you!” Belle jammed her hand into her skirt pocket and fingered her rosary. “When you were asleep, I kissed you.”

Mr. Gold’s eyes widened. “You did?”

Belle frowned. Doesn’t he remember? He practically ran from the room, apologizing. In his slumbering state, he had returned her kiss, believing that she was someone else. Then he avoided her. He would leave whenever she entered the room. The poor man felt uncomfortable in his own home. And it was her fault.

“Yes.” Belle turned around, putting her back to him. She couldn’t bear to face him when she made this confession. It would crush her if Mr. Gold were angry or disgusted. “Mr. Gold… I love you. I think I loved you since we first met. That’s why I kissed you.”

Belle waited for Mr. Gold’s response, but he remained quiet. The only thing she could hear was his rhythmic breathing…she had fallen asleep listening to his heartbeat and to the warmth of his breath surrounding her. She loved every inch of that man and didn’t know how she could live her life without him.

She counted the seconds and after a minute of silence, she knew. Mr. Gold didn’t feel the same way about her.

“I understand.” Belle closed her eyes and sniffed. “I think it would be best if I leave. I – I haven’t seen my father in years and I need to find him. I’ll leave in the morning.”

She went into the bedroom, closed the door, and began to pack.

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@jackabelle73 prompt:  Nun’s Story!Gold…. what were you thinking as you snuggled up in the same bed with Belle?

The Nun’s Story  Part One  Part Two  Part Three  Part Four  Chapter Five

Chapter Six

A03

Note: Not beta-ed; expect mistakes.

Ryszard’s breathing had grown shallow, but that was no surprise since Belle was fully burrowed into his chest and sound asleep. He shifted, attempting to angle his from her, so she would not feel his hardening length. I’d die if she woke and felt that. It could be helped though, it was a natural reaction to sharing a bed with the woman he loved and adored. They were cramped and the mattress was lumpy, but he intended to relish every second of this night. Milah was the last woman I shared a bed with. And that had been a dozen or so years ago.

He had never been much good at love making. Milah had a good laugh at his pathetic attempts at pleasing her, so they stopped. She informed him that she only married him because he had been a successful business man. She sought affection elsewhere and yet they continued on with their sham of a marriage. Then she got pregnant…with Bae.

Ryszard had no intention of giving the child his name, or having anything to do with it. He had mustered up what courage he had and was planning to leave. But then one night, after the birth, Bae was screaming at the top of his lungs and he couldn’t bear to hear the child in agony. Milah was nowhere to be found. He went in to just check on Bae, but somehow that led to holding the baby and him losing his heart to his child. I fell in love for the first time. Bae shouldn’t be to blame for his mother’s sins and he had always wanted to have a family.

So, Ryszard claimed Bae as his own and his boy never knew the truth. As far as he was concerned, Bae was his son in every way that mattered.

His arms encircled her and he settled his chin on top of her head, inhaling a lungful of Belle’s flowery, tantalizing scent.

Ryszard was relieved that she had calmed down enough to rest. She had been so worried when that cough rattled in Bae’s lungs. His son was strong and he knew that Bae would be fine, but he was touched that Belle had been so maternal. Bae had never known a mother’s love and though it was impossible for them to be a proper family, he was happy for Bae that he had a mother figure in his life.

He dropped a kiss on the crown of Belle’s head. He wouldn’t sleep tonight, he couldn’t. Not when this would be as close as he could be to having Belle completely.

For the morning crowd.

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Dog Days: Chapter 3

A03

Chapter One  Chapter Two

Rating: G

Synopsis:  Gold loves his dog Wilby and is devastated when Wilby is taken from him. Two years later, Belle French finds Wilby and hopes to reunite him with his owner.

For the Rumbelle Revolution.

Special thanks to @onceuponanovel for the lovely artwork. Because of it, I think we have a new OT3. :~)

Maine

Gold grumbled a litany of profanities and rejected the call from an Indiana number for the second time. It was almost the heat of the day, the painfully bright sun was glaring down upon him, sapping him of his energy and whatever moisture was in the area. And some fool from Indiana was pestering him, distracting him from tending to his animals. They needed fresh water. He didn’t have time to deal with telemarketers, not when he was the only one managing this working farm.

When the phone rang again, he answered it, growling his response. “What the hell do you want?”

A small gasp on the other end made him smirk. Perhaps they’d leave him alone now.

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Thirty, Flirty and Thriving: Chapter 2

A03  FF.Net

Chapter One

Summary:

When Belle turns 30, she decides to do away with her spinster librarian image. Encouraged by her father, she goes to Gold. Gold knows fashion. She is drawn to the pawnbroker…but she must keep her feelings in check because Gold is gay.

Special thanks to @onceuponanovel who designed the artwork and gave me much support and feedback for this story. Love you, sissy!

Belle shuffled towards the employee entry way of the library, which was situated at the side of the building, silently scolding herself for losing track of the time at Granny’s. Ten minutes until the library opens, she calculated after checking her wrist watch. Usually she was at the library a half an hour before opening. Always punctual and she had not taken a day off in three years.

Thankfully her loafers allowed for her quicken her pace. She had only meant to be at Granny’s for a few minutes, to find out what information she could about Gold’s personal life. According to Granny, Mary Margaret, and Ella, the “old bastard” lived like a hermit. To their knowledge he didn’t date and he never looked at a woman unless wanted to find fault with her. That didn’t automatically make him gay, of course. But Storybrooke was a small town and small towns tended to be judgmental about alternative lifestyles. Mother Superior of the local church, and the like, would no doubt make Gold’s life miserable if he publically “came out.” So, it made sense that he would keep that part of his life private.

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