a christmas fic

Christmas in July - a Kristanna fic for Val-2201

Happy Kristanna Christmas in July, @val-2201! I hope you enjoy this, and that you don’t mind it being posted in the middle of the night since I have work tomorrow and I want to make sure it’s up before the end of the day! <3

“Can I open my eyes now?”

“Not yet.”

Anna fidgeted, bouncing on the cracked leather of the passenger seat as Kristoff’s truck stuttered down an uneven road. She’d tried to guess where they were going, but she was pretty sure that he’d driven her in circles while she’d gotten distracted peppering him with questions.

“Is the surprise bigger than a house?”


“Smaller than an elephant?”


“Is it an animal, vegetable, or mineral?”

“It’s…kind of all three, I guess.” That had really thrown her off, and she’d taken her hands down from her face to glare at him. Anna had gotten just a glimpse of his laughing grin before he reached over to cover her eyes with his calloused fingers. “No peeking,” he said. “You’ll see it when we get there.”

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A Hero’s Duty

This very belated RCIJ gift is for the wonderful, ever patient @somekindoffan.  She’s an absolute angel and I can’t even begin to tell her what our conversations meant to me.  Her prompt was “Hercules! Belle, Megara! Rumplestiltskin AU”.  Well this is definitely very AU.  It’s an odd mix of Disney’s Hercules, OUAT and all the mythology I could possibly fit into one story.  From the Athena-Poseidon feud to Minotaurs, it’s all here. There was even going to be a section where Belle met Hades and Persephone but that had to be scrapped because I had a loose end to wrap up. Who knows you might get it someday.  Lots of Love, thecompletebookworm.  

The throne room shook.  

Poseidon hit his trident against the floor.  "You can’t just let her get away with this.“  

Zeus couldn’t help rolling his eyes.  This conversation had been going on for long enough and he wanted nothing more than to be off Mount Olympus, scoping out the scene.   "You agreed to the rules of the game.  I have no idea why you’re arguing with me.”  

“Because she obviously rigged it!”   Poseidon’s shout echoed against the marble walls, yet only caused Athena to roll her eyes.  

Athena’s stormy grey eyes turned deadly.  "And how was I supposed to do that?“  She didn’t even pause for him to come up with a weak response, instead pushing forward. "Athens has only existed for a short time.”  

Poseidon snarled at the name.  

“It needed a deity and we agreed to let the people choose what would be most helpful to them. A spring of undrinkable salt water was clearly what they needed, at least according to you.”    

“Poseidonopolis would have done marvelous.”  

Athena laughed.  "That’s what you wanted to call it.   They would have been the laughing stock of the Mediterranean.“  

"After being named after such a God, no one would dare laugh.”  Poseidon’s smug smile did nothing to subdue Athena’s laughter; it only got louder.

“A God who does not see the benefit of lumber for shelter, or food for hungry bellies.”  

“You merely created olives, which have nothing to do with your domain.  Wisdom!  Wisdom and Olives have nothing in common!" 

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Okay, so in tribute to my recent delve into Monster High territory, I would like to suggest a headcannon regarding Jackson, Holt, and holidays.

After all, they share their birthday, and things like Christmas are a certain date.

Now, I imagine the two probably did agree to share the holidays. Maybe they deliberately split them up like when they were children – Jackson is awake during the day, which involves every holiday tradition, and then turning on the music when the sun goes down. At that point, Holt gets to have some turkey  and open his presents.

The thing that interests me is that their mother is every bit a Jekyll/Hyde as they are. And presumably both sides of her want to spend time with each son. So Jekyll!Mum wants to have Christmas with Jackson and Holt – and then Hyde!Mum would want to bond with both of her sons too, who can’t be in the same place at the same time. They’d probably have to have a roster so that each possible combination of Jekyll and Hyde get to celebrate together.

I guess my point is that their fire elemental father has to do Christmas four times in a day.

Peppermint and cinnamon | Liz/Ressler (Keenler) Fanfiction | The Blacklist

Title: Peppermint and cinnamon
Rating: T
WC: 4,740
Characters: Donald Ressler, Elizabeth Keen, Meera Malik, Red Reddington, Aram Mojtabai.
Pairing: Elizabeth Keen/Donald Ressler (Keenler)
Summary: Ressler can deal with the decorations and the lights, but he’s not going to a Christmas party. No way in hell. Not even if his life depends on it.
Author’s notes: Friendly reminder that English is not my first language, so I’m sorry for all the mistakes you’ll probably find.
More notes: You can totally blame enalgunlugar for this one, because it was her idea. She was like “It’s Christmas, I can’t believe we don’t have a mistletoe fanfiction” so here it is. You should probably read “83 days” before this because it’s kind of a sequel, but I guess you can read it as an oneshot too. I hope you like it and MERRY CHRISTMAS! ;)

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Bad Timing, a RCIJ Fanfic

Prompt:  "Time travel for the beginners“

Summary: Sometimes the way forward lies somewhere in the past. Rumbelle Time-Travel AU.

Rating: R

Dedication: To @mirime-kisarrastine, who kept me connected to Tumblr when I wanted nothing to do with it by virtue of being her Secret Santa. I know times are hard and 2016 is some weird lab experiment gone horribly wrong but I hope this story gives you a few minutes of enjoyment at least. It was great meeting you!

At first this was supposed to be longer but I took your advice to leave an open ending, though I still have the idea of a second part written down somewhere. Enjoy!

Word Count: 15,676

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Fic: Red Lights

Title: Red Lights
Rating: NC-17
Word Count: 30,853
Summary:  For forty-five years, Isaac Gold has waited to be married to the right woman before becoming intimate. However, facing an annulled marriage and a future of isolation and emptiness, he finds himself at breaking point. He books a night with an escort, and walks into his hotel expecting a terrifying professional. The woman he meets is someone else entirely. She might even be the woman of his dreams. Rumbelle escort!AU.

A/N: My RCIJ fic for the wonderful @ladybookwormwithteeth, who prompted ‘virgin!Gold, waiting for marriage’. I did something a little different with the prompt, but I hope you like it anyway sweetheart! It’s been great getting to know you a little these past two months, enjoy your gift! 

On AO3

Fic: Love Above The Clouds

Giftee: @thescholarlystrumpet

Santa: worryinglyinnocent

Prompt: steampunk rumbelle smut

Title: Love Above The Clouds

Word Count: 8915

Rating: NC-17

Summary: Captain Gold of the Dark Castle air clipper is trying (and failing) to tell himself that his feelings towards his lovely chief engineer, Officer French, are a figment of his imagination. Little does he know that Officer French is having similar thoughts herself…

Note from Santa: Hello Strumpet! I hope you enjoy your gift! It’s been absolutely fabulous chatting with you, darling! I just want to say that I LOVED THIS PROMPT SO MUCH and I had such a great time writing the fic, so thank you for giving me this opportunity!


Love Above The Clouds

The Dark Castle, finest and fastest air clipper in the Merchant Flying Navy, rocked precariously from side to side as a particularly violent gust of wind buffeted the balloon above it. Although her captain had flown in many storms and weathered worse conditions than this, he was beginning to think that there was in fact something seriously wrong with the ship. It should not have been rolling in quite such a dramatic fashion. Captain Gold looked over at the bank of instruments on the wall beside him at the helm, their gleaming brass dials inset in rich walnut wood showing him the conditions outside. The wind speed was not so terrible that their stabilisers shouldn’t have been able to compensate for the movement. He thanked God that they weren’t carrying any passengers and that all his crew were experienced fliers used to the unpredictability of the open sky. He had no desire for anyone to fall ill as a result of the Dark Castle’s apparent failings.

“Captain,” the voice of the ship’s navigator began, somewhat nervously. “I really think something might be wrong with the mechanics, if you know what I mean.”

Gold looked down from the helm at Officer Milliner, standing beside the large globe that tracked their progress around the world on their long delivery missions, holding onto its frame with white knuckles to try and prevent the heavy marble sphere from toppling over. The fine needle that showed their current location was jumping about all over the place, and although Gold would admit to relying on Jefferson to tell him precisely where he was at any given moment in time, he knew for a fact that they were not currently flying in elaborate figure-eights over the deserts of Africa.

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Rumbelle Christmas in July 2016!

Giftee: @penguinboy 

It’s been a pleasure chatting with you and writing this for you! I really hope you enjoy!!

Marked by Fate
Rated Explicit

Prompt: Soulmate marks AU
Word count: 14k

Belle and Rumplestiltskin both developed mysterious marks as children, designating them as two of the lucky few who would find a soulmate. Starry-eyed dreams would fade in the light of harsh reality. But Fate will find a way. This wasn’t exactly the love story either were expecting but it could still lead to a Happily Ever After.

Chapter One

Queen Collette and King Maurice tried for years to have a child. The advice of medics, the prayers of clerics, herbal concoctions that smelled awful and tasted worse - nothing helped. Still Collette’s womb remained barren. It was only after meeting with a local midwife (rumored to be a hedgewitch, as well) that Collette was able to convince her husband to try one more time. She would never tell Maurice what the old woman told her or what had changed her tearful countenance to one of serene acceptance upon leaving the midwife’s ivy-covered cottage. Maurice had his suspicions but he kept them to himself. He was getting on in years and had no heir. And he loved his wife. They’d married for duty, not love, but the years had made them both grow fond in their own ways.

Lo and behold, a few weeks later, Collette told him, tears in her eyes, that she was with child. The usual amount of time passed, with Maurice doting on his wife and her swelling belly. He prayed for a strapping boy, one who could keep their lands and people safe. The day of the birth, he rushed to Collette’s bedside as soon as the healers would let him. She was flushed and breathless, a sheen of sweat on her brow and a mewling babe at her breast.

“It is a girl.”

Maurice felt his heart fall at that announcement. He tried not to let his face betray his disappointment. Keeping his spirits buoyed for Collette’s sake, he looked upon his daughter’s face for the very first time. And she was beautiful. She was not the son he’d longed for but a lovelier child he could not have imagined. They decided easily on a name; they called her Belle.

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A Choice Or Two

Prompt: Belle chooses Rumple over “heroes”

Summary:  After a fight with her husband Belle ends up talking to the Charming’s and gains a new perspective on things.

Warning:  Not friendly towards really anyone but Rumple and Belle.

Recipient:  @charmedrumbelle

AN:  Hi! Surprise, I’m your Santa! I really enjoyed talking to you these past few weeks, and I really hope that you enjoy your gift!

The library was empty.  Well, no, that wasn’t totally true.  The head – and only – librarian was there.  Belle sighed, setting aside a children’s book with a very green cover featuring a tree and a little boy on the front.  Sitting at the desk and sorting through a collection of new books for her library had done nothing but give her time to think; instead of the desired outcome of distracting her from her thoughts.  She had hoped that the menial task would be enough to clear her mind after her last argument, if it could be called that, with her husband.

Rumplestiltskin had promised to be honest with her, and honest he was; easily admitting that he had no intention of helping Emma, her parents, or the any of the company they chose to keep ever again.  Instead of doing the rational thing and trying to talk it out, she had left the house in a huff once more.  They’d never get anywhere if they didn’t communicate and now that Rumple had opened up she had fallen back on her own bad habit of storming away, making it hard for them to actually talk.

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Cannibal Actually ;)



Put me on Santa’s naughty list cos I only went and wrote the thing….I don’t give any kind of fucks that it’s July I am a prompt freak this week! Although it was meant to be a fun little ficlet and then turned into 1700 words of the fluffiest fluff this porn princess ever wrote LOL

@color-division I apologize for stealing your hilarious dialogue, and thank you for the inspiration <3

@victorineb @artbyvictoriaskye @hannigram-hell @lecteronthelam@allegralovelace this is all your damn fault!

December 23rd and Abigail was hovering around the kitchen as Hannibal pre-prepared food for the next day. They were hosting a Christmas Eve dinner party – their first as a “family” now that she was living there until she decided what she might want to do next. She wasn’t exactly helping, but her presence always made Hannibal feel lighter so he indulged her endless stream of musings and questions. He had a lot on his mind and it was a welcome distraction.

“Are there going to be many guests for the party?” Abigail asked

“Only close friends” Hannibal replied.

She thought for a second, figuring this definitely included Will, “You can hang mistletoe” she said, earning herself a glance up from the chopping.

“What’s going on in that mind of yours?”

Abigail picked up a spice jar and pretended to study it, “You need help with Will.” She said. It wasn’t a question, merely an observation. One made having lived through countless hours in their company whenever Will came over. Which was always. Watching them stare at each other and make their little jokes was vomit-inducing. They were worse than twelve year olds, dancing round each other, and she was getting exasperated.

Hannibal actually stopped and considered her bold statement, which although possibly true was not something he thought widely known. It was Christmas though, and he felt particularly warm towards his surrogate daughter.

Here we go again, watch him deny it as usual, she thought as he half smiled and leaned over the counter towards her, “Will only needs to be alone with me.” he said. Although this gave nothing away, Abigail realised that he had technically acknowledged, out loud, that he was trying to kiss Will Graham. An impressed smile spread over her face. She was actually excited now.


The dinner was going splendidly. The wine was flowing, the food was – unsurprisingly – delicious, and everyone was fully in good spirits. Even Frederick had cracked a smile when Alana had nudged him and told him about the weird, lone mistletoe she’d seen hanging in an odd part of the hall. It was definitely in stark contrast to the elaborate décor that adorned the rest of the ground floor. Clearly a gaudy attempt to get his hands on Graham, he thought. Never one to miss an opportunity to be a pain in the ass he cut through the chatter, “So there’s only one mistletoe in the house, isn’t that weird?”

Clearly Abigail wasn’t the only eagle eyed one in the group, as Jack agreed, “Not subtle, Hannibal”

Picking up on the fact her husband obviously knew Hannibal was up to something, Bella joined in the teasing, “Oh you have someone in mind, Dr. Lecter?” she said and there was a smattering of laughter.

Blunt as a spoon, Frederick snorted, “Graham, of course”. Will practically choked on his dinner.

He set his glass down pointedly, not sure if he was angry at Frederick, or embarrassed that people had picked up on their mild flirtation. I mean that’s all it was, wasn’t it? It was just banter. I mean yes, Hannibal and he had a lot in common, very alike, but it didn’t need to be made a big deal out of. It certainly didn’t need dropped like a bomb over dinner.

Not in front of Abigail either. When he checked to his left to see how she had reacted, he was a little startled to see her with a look that said she was as fully aware as the rest of them. Hannibal for his part, didn’t help matters, but simply sat there with his expression unreadable and said nothing.

Will refocused on the anger and without looking at anyone in particular he said, “You’re sure paying a lot of attention to that mistletoe, Frederick…” his tone frosty. The awkwardness spread. Alana took a sip of wine to hide her giggle, Jack raised his eyebrows, Bella fixed a smile on her face and Bedelia shook her head at the lot of them. Frederick had been shut up at least, looking suitably sheepish.

“You’re being rude, Will” Hannibal finally broke the silence. Will opened his mouth to retort but Abigail quickly cut across to defend him, desperate for them not to start sniping at each other.

“Maybe we should just change the subject…..” she said hurriedly. They all slowly went back to their dinner, noise level rising once more. Will chewed sulkily and Hannibal almost imperceptibly frowned. This might be difficult.


Will was just going to leave. Under the guise of going to the bathroom he was going to get his coat quietly out of the pile, say goodbye to Abby - maybe Hannibal too - and go home to his dogs. The prying eyes he had felt on him since dinner were exhausting and he wasn’t really feeling in the same raucous mood as the rest of them. As if on cue, roars of laughter rang out from the lounge. Will sighed and opened the bedroom door.

As he was fishing out his coat, he sensed a presence behind him.

“Where are you going, Will?” Hannibal said softly.

Will didn’t look round, “Home. I have a headache I think…must be all the tension.” He said, the last bit partly under his breath.

“If you are referring to Frederick’s crass remark, then I think you’re over reacting.” Hannibal said as he made his way slowly over to him, placing his hand soothingly on Will’s back. “I had been under the impression you were staying here with us tonight,” he added sadly. Will wanted to shrug him off, now paranoid about how they were coming across despite the empty room. It felt nice though, and no different from Hannibal’s usual lack of regard for personal space.

“I just don’t like being the butt of the joke, feels like high school” Will admitted quietly.

“That moron aside, they don’t mean to make you feel that way. In fact, Abigail is the one who hung that mistletoe…I think she might have been hoping we would kiss” Hannibal reassured him. He knew fine that her feelings on the matter were what was really getting at Will, and this might be the thing to make him stay.

Will turned into him and looked up at Hannibal with wide eyes, searching for the truth in his face, uncharacteristically soft, and found it. Hannibal’s hand was still resting on Will’s shoulder and he slid it up to his flushed cheek. Will’s heart felt like it grew in his chest at this soft, new touch. Suddenly a question he never even knew he wanted to ask came tumbling out, “Were you hoping that, Hannibal?”

Hannibal lowered his gaze to Will’s lips and then back to his hopeful blue eyes, before pressing his mouth softly on Will’s in answer. Will hesitated for just a breath, and then gave in. He kissed Hannibal back, clutching at his waist. As Hannibal tried to press himself closer, Will’s legs got trapped against the bed and buckled. They fell onto the coats of everyone at the party, one or two sliding to the floor in a heap.

“Isn’t this a little cliché for you, Dr Lecter?” Will teased between kisses, thoroughly enjoying the feeling of Hannibal‘s weight on top of him.

Hannibal chuckled into Will’s mouth, “Oh do be quiet, William, I am the host after all and can do as I please” and leaned down for another kiss.


After a few minutes, Will suddenly remembered why they were even there and scrambled to stand up. Hannibal perched on the edge of the bed.

“Maybe we should go back to the party.” Will said in response to Hannibal’s confused look.

“They are all far too drunk to notice, Will, it hasn’t been nearly long enough” Hannibal said. Will wondered if he meant their absence or the kiss, but gathered up the fallen coats nonetheless.

“Yes but it’s rude…” Will mocked. Hannibal just shook his head and made to follow him back downstairs, towards the sound of merriment.

Hannibal had been wrong. As soon as they walked back into the room, all heads turned to them. Maybe it had been longer than it seemed….or maybe it was the fact they both had hair messed up, clothes out of place and red, kiss-swollen lips; and hadn’t even thought to straighten themselves up. In the light of the lamps and the fire they might as well have been wearing a neon sign reading “just been making out”.

Jack and Bella gave each other a knowing look. Frederick all but spat out his brandy, “Oh God… finally!” he exclaimed theatrically.

“Took them long enough.” Jack laughed.

Alana started giggling, throwing herself back into the cushions, “Have you two seen yourselves?!” She managed to say. They looked at each other. Hannibal couldn’t help but smirk lovingly at Will as he blushed right to his cute little ears.

Bedelia rolled her eyes so hard at this, she almost toppled off the arm of the chaise, “I was beginning to wonder if they were ever coming back down…” she said, slurring slightly, setting Alana and Frederick off again. With a nudge from Hannibal, Will finally moved to join Alana, and with Hannibal settled on his other side, he finally felt the love in the room. It was everywhere. They were actually happy for them.

Abigail was sitting on the floor by the fire just beaming at them. Her TWO dads, together at last. Her Christmas wish for them all to be a family had come true.

Also on Ao3

All I Want for Christmas (#hannigramxmasjuly)

Originally posted by nitratediva

//thank you to @darkdreamsofhannigram and @consciousdarkness for the wonderful prompt!

Will was supposed to be looking forward to the holiday. Or at least the time off. That’s what normal people did. His students. The team at the BAU.

Even Doctor Lecter had carved out a ten day vacation. They said their seasons greetings on the 20th.

Don’t hesitate to call if you need me, he said.

Fat chance. Will could only imagine how someone like that spent the holiday. Probably booked steady with lavish parties that Will would hate.

Class warrior wasn’t exactly Will’s best side. And yet in the case of Doctor Lecter, it was the lesser of evils. Either dislike the man because he was one of them, and a psychiatrist to boot. Or admit the unthinkable.

That he was attracted to him.

That Will Graham, with all his salt and don’t-give-a-fucks, actually had a thing for the preening bastard.

Maybe time apart was a good thing. Their recent sessions had felt a little close.

Of course he could be imagining most of it. Even so, it was hard to ignore those moments when Hannibal gave him a look that could melt ice. Will could swear he even heard his breathing change.


The name might have tumbled out once or twice.

It always started the same way. A session. A long pause where Hannibal checked him over head to toe.  

“Tell me about your love life, Will.”

“Not much to tell.”

“Your fantasies then.”

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A Change of Heart: RCIJ Fic for NinaBonita4

Hi @ninabonita4! It’s MarieQuiteContrarie, your Secret Santa! I’ve had a blast writing this story and getting to know you! You prompted “Medieval/Victorian; wedding; first time.” This is Medieval with Victorian touches, light angst, a touch of magic, and always a happy ending. I hope you enjoy the tale and the sweet first-time smut. *Hugs* - Marie

Title: A Change of Heart
Summary: After 7 years of betrothal, Laird Roland and Lady Belle’s wedding day is almost here. He wants more than a marriage of convenience; so does she. If only they had the courage to tell each other…
Rating: NC-17 | Word Count: 23,300
Artwork: @moonlight91
Thanks to: @magnoliatattoo @witchnova221 @mysticpoet @im2old4this - you all helped, and I so appreciate it!
A/N: Rumple is called Roland in this story by everyone but Belle. The surname Demhain means “Imp” in Scottish Gaelic.

AO3 Link

Scotland, the Borderlands, circa 1475

She was walking while reading again.

Roland Demhain wiped his sweaty brow with a scrap of cloth and leaned his sword against a tree, taking a brief rest from training. Pulling out a strip of Cook’s dried beef, he chewed slowly as he watched Lady Belle de Berwick circle the moat surrounding the castle, one of the estate’s few books pressed against her nose as she strolled. Roland suppressed a smile and shook his head; it was a wonder the girl could read the words at all with the pages so close to her face.

“Come now, Roland,” said his sparring partner, David de Caoraich, nudging him with the point of his sword. “Stop focusing on your stomach. Or are you seeking an excuse to moon over the lass?”

Glowering, Roland shoved the last bite into his mouth and snapped his attention back to his work. He lunged, answering David’s parry with one of his own. “Belle is a child,” he growled as steel met steel. “I am not mooning.”

“Nay, of course you aren’t,” David said with a mocking bow.

“Save your breath for your swordplay, princeling,” Roland said through gritted teeth, advancing on David. “En garde!”

Roland had David cornered in a copse of trees within a few clever moves. He was about to deliver the fatal blow when a high-pitched cry rent the air, followed by a splash.

Roland whipped his head in the direction of the sound. While his attention was divided, David took a swipe at his knees, causing him to trip and sprawl on his arse. His fellow knight laughed heartily, ribbing him for his clumsiness, but Roland ignored his jests and scrambled to his feet.

Where was the Lady Belle?

Roland raced to the shore of the moat, scanning the perimeter. Ripples tumbled upon the surface of the water, but Belle had disappeared from sight. Saints! The girl must have tumbled into the moat.

“What’s happened?” David called out, his face grim as he rushed toward him.

“Belle’s fallen in,” he clipped out.

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Blushes and Brushes

Mr. Gold/Belle French, Teen+, 16,166 words

Summary: Gold hasn’t been inspired to draw or paint in ages, until he lays eyes on Belle French. When he accidentally leaves one of his drawings in the library, and she finds it, he decides that maybe the way to the pretty librarian’s heart is with a paintbrush.

Notes: For the lovely @ak-vintage. The prompt was “non-magical Storybrooke, blushes and brushes.” I had a delightful time being your Santa. I struggled so much to get this done on time. I did not expect life to attack the way it did and I’m so sorry this wasn’t more. I had just lofty plans and I had to drag them back down to Earth. There maybe be a naughty follow up epilogue in the next couple weeks, so watch this space. ;) This is posted as one long fic on Tumblr, but chapters on AO3.


It was wrong.

He knew it was wrong to watch her like this, hiding in the back of the library in the shadows of the reference section. The windows were high and a bit yellowed with age but still gave good enough light to see what he was doing. But the light up front? Oh, it was glorious. The wide front windows of the library let in cascades of afternoon sunlight making the marble floor gleam. The old wood paneling had a lovely warm glow to it as well, giving the old building a richness of life.

But the real beauty of the library was her.

Belle French.

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The Highest Bidder

Summary: Maurice sells Belle to the highest bidder. Rumplestiltskin brings gold, but not because he’s looking for a maid.  Nothing goes as he expected, of course.  A gift for the lovely @takethatbembridgescholars from the prompt “Maurice sells Belle to Rumple”

A note to my awesome giftee: thank you so much for the prompt!  This was more fun than I ever expected it to be.

Read it on AO3 | FFN

The first time Belle did magic, she was thirteen years old.  She’d been climbing a tree, and a branch fell out from under her.  But she’d climbed too high, and the fall broke both of her legs, bringing her mother and all of her attendants running.  But Belle’s legs straightened back out almost right away, and her screams turned to confused looks.  Lady Colette bundled her daughter off straight away, and tried to keep the news quiet, but of course Sir Maurice found out.  His wife was able to mollify his dislike and distrust of magic, and it worked fairly well…until the ogres came.  

Belle’s magic had been mostly under control until then, escaping in small ways, but it didn’t do anything that couldn’t be explained away with a little creativity.  Colette was good at that, but once Belle’s wild magic reached out and forced the ogres back from their lands, it was impossible to hide her any longer.  Most of the people in the Marchlands rejoiced; they were safe, even if their neighbors were not.  But then, most of them blamed Sir Gaston for earning the ogres’ ire in the first place, because everyone knew the story of what had brought the ogres to their kingdom. Belle’s magic, however, had saved them, and the people of the Marchlands celebrated.

Sir Maurice, however, was not so comfortable.  On one hand, he had his wife telling him that Belle was a good girl, and that they’d get her every book on magic that they could and make sure she learned to use her magic safely.  On the other, however, lay the Holy Order of Clerics, who whispered and warned that Belle was dangerous.  Young women who gained magic always turned to evil, they claimed, providing the examples of Princess Cora, Queen Regina, Maleficent, and dozens of others.  

“We can take her in, keep her safe,” Bishop Chesson told Maurice for the hundredth time.

“Absolutely not.”  Colette disliked speaking over her husband, but she knew that Maurice wasn’t thinking straight about this situation.  “I have heard rather…concerning things about what happens within your Monastery.”

Bishop Chesson drew himself up, huffing irritably. “All base rumors, My Lady.”


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on the count of three [1/1]

for Day 3: Beloved Tropes – my favourite of all days – i’m reposting a fic i wrote from several months ago using the ‘best friends for life, friends to lovers’ trope. i had no other way to contribute to cs au week this year since i am so monumentally busy, so i hope you enjoy! :)

summary: they’ve been friends for as long as either of them could remember. living in Storybrooke had many faults, but the perks were each other. this is the story of growing up, losing one’s way, only to find their way back to one another.
word count: ~6800
rating: m [for best friend sexual feeling]


There’s no such thing as love.

At least, that’s what she tells herself.

And if there were such a thing, why does it make her feel so much pain and heartache? No good can come from an emotion that does  nothing but tear you down.

Sure, she might have had it…once. But that was long ago; before the big move, before her new job, before Neal.

Before everything go so fucking messed up she couldn’t think straight and her vision would constantly blur because of the tears.

So, no. Love isn’t a thing.

Not for her.

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French Braid

@ashadeofpemberley said:

Optional prompt (since I know you don’t write a lot of Swanfire-centered fics): Emma is pregnant with a little girl and Bae is trying to learn how to braid hair. He practices on everyone who has even slightly long hair and will sit still.

You are perfectly right, I don’t do a whole lot of Swanfire-centric stories because for some reason I can’t. I even turned this into a pretty obvious Rumbelle fic. I hope you like it anyway. :)

It was three o’clock on a Saturday and Mr. Gold was sitting on a stool in his kitchen, a cellphone held in one hand and his head being yanked back every so often by his son.

“Can you hold it up higher, Pop? I can’t see,” Neal muttered around a rubber band dangling from his lips.

The long-suffering sigh was loud, but he held it up, the video paused at a particularly difficult maneuver. His head was jerked to the left, then the right and there was one strand that was pulled so tight at the root that his eyes watered.

“She’s not even born yet,” he said, for the thirtieth time.

“I know, Pop,” Neal said with audibly fading patience.

“You know you didn’t even really grow hair until you were three.”

“I know, Pop.”

“Nothing but fuzz for years,” he said hissing through teeth as his head was yanked back again. “Thought you’d never get hair.”

“I know, Pop!”

“She might not even like braids,” he grumbled. His arm was beginning to arche from holding the phone up so long and he wished his son would just get over this whim already. There was plenty of time to learn new things. Though, after a moment’s reflection, he supposed it was a good thing Neal wanted to learn how to braid hair rather than, say, learn how to change a diaper. He loved his son, but there were some lines that couldn’t be crossed.

“Be quiet, I’m almost done.”

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In Time

Happy Rumbelle Christmas In July!!!!

I had the honor and privilege to be Santa for the fabulous @rainydaybatsy , who I really enjoyed interacting with and finding out all about her Orphan Black theories! You were an amazing giftee who not only helped when I was nervous about the prompt, but answered all of my crazy questions and just made this whole thing so much fun! :-)

I was worried when I received your prompt because I had never read The Time Traveler’s Wife and I wasn’t sure how I could fulfill your prompt with just the information on a Wikipedia page… but then I though, well, A&E fuck around with time so much on Once Upon A Time, why couldn’t I?  And a plot was born!  I hope you enjoy my interpretation of your prompt…

Summary: Rumplestiltskin comes into possession of an enchanted object that is supposed to take him to his heart’s desire. He is sure it will take him to lost son, but instead it keeps transporting him through time and space to entirely different person… one that will change his life forever.

Rating: Mature

In Time

By The Naughty Scandalous Scorpio

rainydaybatsy prompted: Time Traveler’s Wife book AU

 Rumplestiltskin knew how to make a good deal.  He could always spot a desperate soul, understood how to leverage a person’s weakness, had a clever tongue, could produce an iron-clad contract, and in the end… acquired what he desired.  As The Dark One, he could just take what he wanted, but he got a thrill from the complex dance that was the art of the deal.  All magic came with a price, after all, but acquiring a magical artifact in trade for something he could provide was just good business.

The old witch came to him wanting enchantments for the safety and prosperity of her village.  In exchange, she would give him her most prized possession, if he would just assure that her village was safe from the ogres and bandits, free from all the various diseases roaming the land, and that the crops and beasts were plentiful and fruitful and would be for as long as Rumplestiltskin lived.  Since he was technically immortal, that was a steep order, but it was nothing the incredibly powerful Dark One could not do if he so decided the item was worth the price. And he had.

He examined his new prize with thorough eyes, looking to see how the magic flowed through and around the artifact.  To most, this object would just appear to be a sparkling, pink rose, floating in a plain, glass jar. To Rumpelstiltskin, it was an item surrounded by complex magical forces, some of which he could not identify and this made him uneasy.   The promise of this magical item was far too nebulous for his tastes and also much too alluring.   It was supposed to take the user to their heart’s desire. 

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And the Dark One Makes Three -- an RCIJ for 13callieb

Happy Christmas in July, @13callieb! Surprise, I was your Summer Santa. It took me awhile to get a hold on this fic, and as I told you, the ending was a bear to get through but, well…it ends. That’s definitely a thing that happens. So I hope you like it!

AO3 link

Belle couldn’t believe what she’d just witnessed. The Apprentice had split the Dark One from her husband and now they were laying on the floor next to each other apparently unconscious – the well dressed Mr. Gold persona that she’d married on one side and the sparkly Dark One she’d first fallen in love with both laying there on the floor while everyone looked on.

“So…do we need to kill it?” Emma said from behind her. “Or how do we handle this?”

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We Are Both

A Rumbelle Christmas in July 2016 gift for @thenaughtyscandalousscorpio. I really hope you like it!!!! :) 

Rated: Explicit

Summary: Rumplestiltskin splits the Darkness from himself. Belle gets ideas.

Also on AO3: http://archiveofourown.org/works/7562833

(thank you to @mariequitecontrarie for being the best beta a Rumbeller could ask for!)

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