What if Robin Hood hadn't been able to save his wife when she caught a deadly disease whilst carrying his child? What if the newly widowed Evil Queen had summoned him instead of the Huntsman to hunt down and kill Snow White? Set in the Enchanted Forest AU, dark! Regina, dark! Robin, dark! Story
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A Light in the Dark - Chapters: 2/2 (complete)
When the eyes can burn into the soul there are no masks that can hide your true self. Prompts from the Outlaw Queen Week "Masked Ball" and "Getting Caught"
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Closet Endeavours - One Shot (complete)
While searching the farm house for anything that might help bring down the Wicked Witch, Robin and Regina seem to be getting along well, until she sees destiny marked on his wrist, but something prevents her from running away. Response to prompt: "Friends locking them inside a closet"
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Dream - One Shot (complete)
Regina banged the door and ran away from pixie dust magic and her soul mate. But what if the man with the lion tattoo had followed the stranger who made such a racket?
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Safe - One Shot (complete)
Regina is on the run from Snow White but she can't run forever. As her nemesis is about to fry her alive, Regina is rescued by a mysterious rider, who turns out to be only too familiar to her heart.
AO3
Seen , caught, kept - 1/3 (in progress)
Robin can't sleep and wondering about the castle, which once was a home to an Evil Queen, he comes by something he should not be seeing. Missing Year, Outlaw Queen
AO3
Concealed - One Shot (complete)
Emma's heart is conflicted after she had seen her magic flip out of her control and harm the ones she cared about. She decides to go to Regina for help but tonight might not be the best night to go inside that vault. Outlaw Queen, Emma's POV
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OUAT - Evil Charming
A Step too Far - One Shot (complete)
What if David hadn't left after he devoured Regina's lasagna? What if he suddenly became interested in devouring something else of hers?
I wrote and posted the first part of this three part story a billion years ago but was never able to write the two other parts for some reason. As luck would have it, today I felt inspired to give part two a try. I did and this is the result.
Since it's Sunday evening and a thousand moons ago Sunday evenings were all about OUAT to me, watching an episode and posting something from my stories, here we have a sneak peek of chapter 2 of "Seen, caught, kept".
Chapter 1 "Seen"
Chapter 2 "Caught"
“Enjoying the show, thief?”
It was as if time had stopped altogether as her words reverberated through the room.
Robin was absolutely sure he was going to die.
If the depths of her eyes told him anything, it was that he was going to die. She would kill him, resurrect him, and then kill him again for this.
Robin opened his mouth, a pathetic attempt to explain himself dying on his lips, as her deep brown pools challenged him to speak.
“Well?” she spoke again as her hands moved from her sex, slick fingers coming in contact with the silk sheets as she crossed her legs slowly.
Robin took a deep breath and attempted to speak again, but a weak sound came out instead of the extensive apology he felt he owed her. She arched an unimpressed brow at his response and tilted her head to the side a little, examining him even though he still stood in the shadows.
“Step into the light,” she commanded and Robin was surprised by the speed with which his legs worked on their own suicidal accord and took step after step until the moonlight washed over him as well. He stood a few paces from her still unable to speak, her eyes trapped his own like some kind of spell.
Her face still did not betray any emotion as she broke their eye contact. Her eyes raked their way down his torso and landed on the evidence of his desire for her marked in his pants. She tilted her head a little bit more to the side and squinted her eyes, probably going through all the ways she could castrate him inside her head.
Robin felt utterly pathetic as he stood there, wondering where she would throw her first fireball at. But nothing of the sort happened, instead, she hummed as her eyes went back to his and spoke, “It seems that some parts of you were enjoying the show-” her voice was a little hoarse, but also dead serious, Robin could not make out what she was thinking.
Robin swallowed and finally found his voice, “Milady-” he gathered the little that was left of his chilvary, “I apologize. I did not mean to-”
“To what?” she interrupted him, she sat there, naked as the day she had been born, and yet carried herself with such confidence Robin did not know if he felt embarrassed or enticed.
“To look at you whilst you-” he tried to find his words, her gaze was so strong, her calm demeanor making him doubt his ability to string words together into sentences.
“Do you know-” she suddenly stood from her sitting position as she spoke, “-the penalty given to those who enter the Queen’s quarters uninvited?”
“I don’t-” he was able to give her.
“Death” she spat back at him, still not breaking eye contact.
Robin only swallowed and was scared to see her open up a sinister smile at his reaction.
“Oh boy-” his voice came out in a whisper.
Her lips then turned into a thin line, she looked as if she was holding something back. A chuckle was followed by heartfelt laughter, as she placed her hand on her chest, shutting her eyes and throwing her head back as if this had been the funniest thing that had ever happened to her.
Robin did not know how to feel about this, he had heard the stories about her temper in her previous reign before the curse. That she was mercurial and short fused, and that she had killed entire villages after fits of rage. Although he could not help but enjoy the musical sound of her laughter, it sounded real and as if she was indeed amused somehow. He found it odd that it made a shy smile appear on his own lips.
She sighed, whipping her eyes as she stood there in her naked glory, her laughter subsiding. “Such a silly rule-” Her eyes were back on him, “I have a better idea to punish you-” she waved her hand towards the door that stood ajar and it banged shut on its own, the sound of the lock reverberating through the room. “I don’t want any more visitors, do you?”
Robin did not know what to do, think or say. The words, “No, I don’t.” tumbled from his lips. Even though his brain was arguing that if she was indeed going to punish him, he would very much want help in escaping her claws.
Or would he? A small voice asked in the back of his mind.
“Good-” she spoke as she finally moved from her spot and approached him, her steps languid, hips swaying. Robin could only stand there as she prowled around him like a feline taking in its prey, her hand brushing lightly at his hardness as she passed him. She stopped behind him and Robin could feel her hot breath on the back of his neck, he could not believe he felt more and more enticed by her actions, even if they might end badly.
Her hands were suddenly on his hips, fingernails strapping at the fabric of his sleeping shirt as he felt her heat approach his back until her lips were on the shell of his ear. “My hands are tired.” One of her hands slipped under his shirt, her fingers were still a little slick with her juices, “But I’m not done yet-” she racked her nails down his stomach slowly and Robin was sure he was hallucinating.
She started moving again, her hands moving in concert still on him as she came to face him once more, “I still have-” she was now a breath away from him, their noses nearly brushing as she slurred meeting his eye, “-an itch to scratch.”
the best fanfiction you've ever read was written by a woman in her 40s before she made dinner for her kids. it was written by a teenager after school when they should've been studying for a history test. and a barista came up with the idea while they cleaned the espresso machine and busser fact-checked it on their break and the post-doc edited between writing grant proposals and the nurse apologized for typos in the notes after a long shift and behind every drabble and one-shot and multi-chapter fic there is a person with a wonderful and interesting and chaotic life and it is such a privilege that we get to be a part of it because they decided to do this thing we all share, for fun.
A non-writer asked me "but where do you get your ideas" and i genuinely did not know how to explain that it's not a place. it's not a website. it's not a folder. it's that i was on the bus and a woman was holding a paper bag very carefully and something about the way she held it made me need to know what was inside and then i needed to know why she was sad about it and then there was a whole person and then there was a whole story and the bus had already stopped and i missed my stop. that's where.