#dark!oq

[phoenixshine]

So I’m going to be making a couple of posts in order to post here all the manips I’ve made over the last year that, because of... stuff... i neglected to post here. So here be my @oqpromptparty 2017 ones!

[somewhereapart]

In Sickness and In Health

After Robin gets injured during a reckless heist, Regina tends to him. For OQ Happy Ending week, Day 3 (Wednesday).

Click here to read/review on Ao3.

“You’re such an idiot,” she huffs as she cleans the wound on his back with herbal tonics and antiseptic oils and wishes desperately for some peroxide and Neosporin, and her goddamn magic.

His voice is tense and pained beneath the veneer of joviality as he tells her, “I do believe that’s why you love me.”

An absolute, complete, stupid, reckless idiot.

“It’s not as though we need the riches,” she mutters, “You could have at least waited until this damnable hex wears off.” He breathes in and out heavily, and she tries to hold onto her anger despite how grateful she is to see proof that he’s alive. She still remembers how still the other Robin had been, lifeless and limp without a breath in his body, as she’d clutched him to her in the office that had once been hers.

He has no right to go and die on her again, not this Robin, not the one that’s made for her, she won’t allow it.

“We don’t know when that might be, milady,” he points out, and she rolls her eyes and presses perhaps a little harder than is necessary on the next swipe of the cloth around the raw edges of where so much skin has been scraped off his lovely back.

“That may be,” she admits through gritted teeth, “But at the very least you could have skipped shimmying from a third story window and grating your back on castle walls and rooftops the whole way down.”

“Well, had I gone any lower—ah!”—he hisses as she begins to spread a salve over the angry, pulpy wound and his voice is strained and tight—“I’d have likely been eaten by a dragon.”

“And that’s another thing!” she gripes at him, though she gentles the touch of her hand when she notices the sweat beading along his brow. “Why a dragon? Of all the creatures you could steal from, why the one with wings and talons and fire?”

“Because they have the best hordes,” he shrugs—the move pains him, and she’s glad of it, and then feels guilty that she takes any amount of joy in his misery. But he’s just such an idiot! “And you’ll notice I’ve managed to avoid talon, and wing, and fire despite my back being ripped to tatters. I did that one all on my own.”

“Idiot,” she mutters darkly. Her hands are shaking, she realizes. How long have they been doing that?

“Yes, so you’ve said,” Robin mutters, and he has the audacity to sound annoyed. He has no right to be annoyed, not with her, not after he put himself at risk at the worst possible time and for no actually discernable good reason.

“You could catch fever and die, Robin, and I wouldn’t be able to heal you,” she gripes at him. “This is not the time to be reckless.”

“I made a calculated—”

“I watched you die once, and I have no desire for a repeat performance!”

It’s the last thing she says before she tosses the cloth she’d been using to clean his wounds aside and stalks off, slamming the chamber doors behind her with an impressive bang and leaving him spread across their bed, alone, to stew on what he’s done.

.::.

 Robin wakes hours later, in the dark, still on his belly (no surprise there) with an ache in his neck from the way his face has been smushed against the pillow. He grunts and lifts it to turn to his other side, and the wounds on his back make themselves known, painfully.

He hisses at the rippling fire across his back, but manages to turn his head and finds Regina in bed beside him.

He hadn’t expected her to be there, honestly. With how angry she’d been earlier, he’d imagined she’d spend the night somewhere else, holed up in one of the castle’s many other rooms. They’ve fought before, sometimes bitterly, and he recalls a night where she’d attempted to kick him out of their quarters, refusing to hear a word of sense, but he’d refused to go. He’d insisted he would stay right where he was, in their chambers, until she’d bloody listen to what he was trying to say to her.

So she’d left him there, and spent the next three nights in the east wing study. He’d seen neither hide nor hair of her until she’d strolled into the great hall for breakfast one morning, and taken the meal with him in silence but for two words: “Not yet.”

It had taken until after dinner for her to properly speak with him, but they’d finally made their amends.

So it’s a surprise to see her lying there beside him, in her bedclothes, her dark eyes open and watching him. It does not surprise him that she doesn’t speak. She simply stares at him, a look in her eyes that reminds him far too much of the Regina they’d left behind in Storybrooke. Like she looks at him and sees someone else. The other Robin Hood.

She doesn’t look at him this way often, and usually when she does it galls him. But today, he thinks perhaps he understands. Her last words to him echo in his head, and he grits his teeth against the effort of sliding his hand across the covers toward hers.

She meets him halfway—more than, probably, her fingers sliding swiftly across the expanse of soft cotton the moment his begin to move. They’re warm against his own as they curl and weave together, and then he tells her, “I’m sorry.”

She frowns, and sighs, rubs her thumb across his and answers softly, “I love you.”

He can see how much, can see how worried she is for him, how frightened. It makes him feel a bit guilty for his little errand to be honest—even if the diamond ring he’d pilfered for a very specific purpose is even now burning a hole in his satchel.

He won’t tell her where he got it, he thinks. It wouldn’t do to start their marriage off with a lie, but he thinks she’d probably not be too terribly fond of it if she knew he nearly died in the heist that procured it.

So he’ll keep that little secret to himself and hope she never asks, and tonight he’ll simply tell her, “And I, you. There’s nothing in this realm or any other that I love as dearly as I do you, and I’ve no intention of being parted from you.”

He intends it to reassure her, but she only frowns more deeply, her gaze dropping into the shadowed chasm between their bodies. “I’ve found life—or more accurately death—doesn’t care all that much about our intentions.”

He doesn’t know what to say to that. She’s known so much death and pain—they both have—that he knows no platitudes will ring sincere.

So he offers the only thing that might bring her comfort, and swears to her, “I’ll be more careful. I promise.”

She softens, just a bit, telling him, “That’s all I ask.” Then she leans in and presses a kiss gently to his lips, sealing his promise and settling both their weary hearts. When she pulls back, it’s to disentangle their fingers and stroke hers gently over his bearded jaw, her nails scratching in a way he always enjoys. His eyes drop shut for a moment as she asks, “How’s your back?”

“Painful,” he admits with a grimace, trying very hard to lie very still, lest he cause himself even more discomfort.

Regina sighs, her breath washing against his jaw, his neck.

“It should be redressed,” she murmurs. “I’ll make more salve.”

The bed shifts as she makes her way out of it, and Robin cracks his eyes back open to watch her. The moonlight streaming in makes her look ethereal, in a gauzy nightgown the color of smoke, the blue light reflecting off her skin to make it glow, her hair somehow even darker against the luminescence of her skin. In the moonlight, it looks inky and soft, plaited over one shoulder in a way his fingers itch to unravel.

She’s so lovely. Stunning, in every way, and all his.

He’s a lucky bastard, he knows that. So lucky that a part of her still fits so finely with a part of him. So lucky that she didn’t skin him alive this afternoon when he came loping home bloodied and exhausted. So lucky she’s here with him now, mixing poultices and potions to see him well.

He’s found a home here with her, a possibility he’d thought lost to him after Marian’s untimely demise. Robin thinks again of that ring in his satchel and wonders if she’ll say yes.

She’d told him once that she had wasted too much time in her life on fear and regret and revenge, and she didn’t want to waste a single minute more. She wanted to take a chance on them and see where it might lead.

So far, it’s led them quite well.

So he’ll ask her—soon. Once he’s back in fighting shape, and she’s gotten her magic back, and their world has been set to rights. He’ll ask for her hand and give his in return, and spend the rest of his days in this bed, fighting and fucking and laughing and loving, his Queen by his side.

For tonight, though, he’ll content himself with the gentle, aching touches of her fingers as they do their best to heal him.

[justanoutlawfic]

Favorite Wish!Robin scene...

Regina *heart eyes* Mills: You’re Robin Hood! Think of all the people you’ve helped.

Robin *wtf* Locksley: Robin Hood? No, I’m Robin of Locksley. I’m a thief.

Regina: A thief who steals from the rich and gives to the por.

Robin: GIVES TO THE POOR? Why the hell would I do that?

[ourheroregina]

OQ FIX IT WEEK - DAY 7

Day 7 - Dark!OQ day

@oqfixitweek

She doesn‘t tell him.

The Queen doesn’t tell Robin that she missed her period for more than five months, she doesn’t tell him that she’s been a hormonal mess for a long while now (not that she really needs to tell him that, he’s very much aware of it himself, had to deal with all of her uncharacteristic breakdowns and wishes).

She doesn’t tell him that there’s another heart beating inside her body.

She’s been pregnant before, and she’s been cursed to never give birth to a living child by Rumple. And then there was that potion which she drank on her own will that made sure she didn’t even get pregnant. What’s the reason to get pregnant if you know that the child won’t even be born?

It’s been decades since the potions and now she’s pregnant again.

She didn’t believe it at first. When she missed her period, she thought that it was just gone, that she was already getting old. But then morning sickness followed and she started having those strange cravings. So she did a few magical pregnancy tests, and when they all were positive, she went to see a midwife, (whose memories were erased, of course), who confirmed that Regina is pregnant.

The curses and potions happened a lifetime ago and she’s heard that these kind of things can be broken by true love. But she didn’t believe it would happen to her.

She’s afraid. She’s anxious, counting days because she’s nearing the time when the baby should die. It always happened on the fifth month, and if she really found the actual date when the baby was created, she’s already overstepped that line.

But she’s still afraid. Nothing turns out to be good for her. There’s obviously a loss waiting for her.

So the Queen doesn’t tell Robin, thinks that it is better not to think about it too much, not to let him dream about the child that he so obviously desires.

If she doesn’t tell him, he won’t be hurt when it’s gone.

However, it’s getting harder and harder to keep her pregnancy from him for she’s started showing (she’s started showing around three months, but thought that Robin would just think that she gained weight). He’ll find out soon.

It turns out that he already knows because one night, when she’s laying on her back with him on top of her, kissing her desperately, his hands running all over her, he surprisingly pulls away from Regina, all breathless and asks, “Are you going to tell me?”

“What?” She asks, her mind still dizzy from lack of oxygen, her eyes closed. She runs her fingers through his hair, tries to pull him in for another kiss but he’s adamant and it has her opening her eyes in confusion.

She finds him looking at her, his eyes serious, and he’s caught his breath now. Regina squirms, uncomfortable under such stare.

“Are you going to tell me that you are pregnant?” He asks again and her fingers freeze on his shoulder, her whole body’s tensing and she’s pulling away from him instantly.

Shit.

“What do you mean?” she asks stupidly as she rights her nightgown. She tries to scold her features, but her heart is beating rapidly in her chest, and her eyes are wide and afraid.

Robin rolls his eyes at her and motions to her stomach and when Regina glances down she sees it herself. She may have been good at hiding it during the day time, she would dress in such dresses and no one could even guess that she was pregnant but her nightdresses… they’re a simple silk and it may be loose and her bump is showing anyway.

Showing a lot.

“For how long did you know?” She asks, her voice shaking. She doesn’t know what to expect, will he be mad that she didn’t tell him? Or will he tell her she should have got rid of it on day one if she knew it’s not going to live?

“For three months,” he replies and Regina’s eyes widen even more. She became really bad at lying, it seems. “You’ve been an emotional mess, you had these strange cravings and gods, Regina, you wanted to have sex everywhere anytime. It wasn’t hard to put two and two together.”

“Oh,” she lets out and anxiously puts a strand of hair behind her ear, looking away from him, somewhat ashamed.

"So why didn’t you tell me?” He asks again and she tenses when he puts his hand on her stomach, the other hand taking hers, squeezing it in encouragement.

“Robin,” she starts, her voice breaking. She has never thought she’ll have this conversation with him. “We will not have this baby. I’ve been cursed and then I cursed myself, and there’s no chance both of the curses are broken.” She explains, looking away again. Meeting his eyes is too much now.

“I’ve known that before.” He reminds her. Of course, she’s told him that when their relationship became more because the other Robin adored children and Regina felt that this Robin might share the feeling. And indeed, he did. “But you don’t know that the baby is going to die.”

“I do, Robin. I’m not meant to be a mother. Regina may be, but I am most definitely not.” She says, and the tears are following down her cheeks now. Damn hormones.

Her own hand is rested on her bump unconsciously, and Robin’s hand covers her. It only makes her cry harder for she loves the baby already and the longer it stays with her, the more painful it will be to lose him, and now Robin will suffer as well.

Robin wraps his arms around her as she cries, and Regina cannot help but babble about how she’ll lose the baby and how she doesn’t even want to think about it, and how Robin will leave her, and how she just wants it to be over.

It takes her a long while to calm down, and when she finally does, she lies down on the bed, completely numb with Robin beside her, his one arm wrapped around her, holding her close, the other rested on her belly.

They fall asleep in each other’s arms, and in the morning they don’t speak about the baby.

They don’t speak about it for two weeks until one day Robin brings a small bed to the castle. Regina becomes hysteric, she locks herself up in her chambers and doesn’t talk with him for hours.

She doesn’t talk about the baby and Robin doesn’t too, but when she falls asleep, he talks to the baby, he strokes her bump and tells her things he cannot tell her when she’s awake.

Regina refuses to talk about the baby till the end of her pregnant, she doesn’t believe that it will live, she doesn’t believe that even when the labor starts.

She just starts believing when the screaming, bloody baby is rested on her chest and Robin is whispering into her ear that they have a beautiful daughter.

Only then she believes that miracles can happen.

(-----------)

Thank you so much for reading! I hope you liked it! :)

[x-wishes-on-fallen-stars-x]

(Heaven Knows) We Belong Way Down Below.

The same blanket ‘gabi is writing’ warnings - there is blood, guts, death, angst, magic, and all things horrific and wonderful (to me at least). Every single fic I post this month will be Horror. Nothing is sacred to me. No one is safe in my hands. You’ve been warned.

Have some Dark!OQ as Queen and King Consort of Hell, ruling with iron fists for Horror Fest 2k17.

read below, or on AO3 or ffnet respectively.

“Long live the Queen.” Strong arms wrap around her as Robin presses a damp kiss, more of a bite than a kiss, at the nape of her neck.

“You’re late.”

She can feel his grin spread across his face as he bites at her skin one more time before turning to lean his back against the balcony railing. “There was a bit of an issue in the dungeon that needed seeing to,” he says.

Humming, Regina leans on the iron bars, the gold of her claw-rings clinking against the metal as she looks out over their domain. “And how did that go?”

Robin doesn’t answer right away. She can feel him raking his eyes over her, drawn towards the way her entire back is bare of the gold lace covering every other inch of her skin.

“I believe Will and I managed to get our point across well enough.” His fingers trail butterfly soft over the base of her spine, half on her skin and half at the very top of her ass.

“Good,” Regina murmurs, turning her head to look at him as she smirks, seizes his jaw with one hand, the pointed tips of her rings digging into his skin as she pulls him towards her, nose to nose. “I do hope you had fun.”

Her pulse thuds against her skin as his eyes darken, a grin pulling at one corner of his mouth before the hand now gripping her ass yanks her into him, their hips and chests colliding as he swallows her moan.

They are already running late—most likely because he was having far too much fun in the dungeon to think about his time keeping—but she bites at his lips, her eyes rolling back under her lids as he sucks at her tongue and the hold he has on her hips tightens enough she thinks she will have bruises by tonight. Gasping, she pulls back with a parting sharp, swift bite to his bottom lip, drawing blood and licking the taste of him from her own.

“Later,” she promises, her cunt clenching at the thought of having him. Based on the way she feels him twitch against her, the way his eyes blacken even more as he sucks his bleeding lip into his mouth and lets it slip back out at an agonising pace, Robin is thinking along the same lines. “For now, we are soon going to be late for holding court. And as much as I would love to punish you, I had something else in mind for tonight.”

“Tempting,” Robin breathes. “But you’re right. Business first, then we can fight over who gets to make whom beg after.” Winking he makes a sweeping gesture towards the open doors leading into their chambers, his hand moving to settle at the bottom of her bare back as she passes.

Court has always bored Regina. Even before her rise to power, before she was the one sitting on the Throne, back when she was just another demon at the beck and call of the King. His favourite plaything until she took his crown, and his head, and threw his useless remains of a soul into the River of the Damned to drown for the rest of eternity.

So since becoming Queen Regina rarely holds court. She never did see the point in it, when everyone in attendance knew the whole thing was a farce—Leopold had never cared for their grievances, never bothered to hold up his end of the bargains he offered those who dared to raise any—but it could, on rare occasions, be useful.

Robin grins from his seat beside her—he hates the formalities of the Old Ways more than she does, but she can feel the eagerness rolling off of him in waves—as he lounges on his own smaller but still impressive throne. And when Will and John drag a chained Sydney before them his eyes shine brighter, and far more deadly than the Hellfire that guards their realm. As Sydney is hurled to the floor in front of the steps leading up them, dressed in bloody and burnt rags, Robin looks positively gleeful. He lifts their hands from where they rest on the arm of her throne, presses a kiss to the back of it before rising.

“Do you know why you have been brought before the court today?” Regina asks. She keep her eyes on the pathetic excuse of a demon at her feet even as she watches Robin removes his cloak and gloves from her periphery. He doesn’t bother to hide the exhilaration in his eyes as he folds them neatly on his throne before removing his scabbard and placing that on top. Sydney trembles and refuses to meet her gaze.

“I believe your Queen asked you a question,” says Robin as he makes his way down the steps of the Throne Room. When Sydney remains silent, Robin’s glare sharpens, focuses on him with such intensity that those closest to them tense—though Regina knows he is fully aware of each and every person in the hall with them—before he backhands him. It’s swift, and harsh, and Sydney has no way to prepare for the blow that sends him clattering down onto the flagstones.

“Forgive me, Your Majesty,” he pleads.

“And what, pray tell, should I be forgiving you for?” She wears a mask of boredom, of carelessness—like she is as engrossed by this scene as she would be watching paint dry—even as she bays for his blood.

“I… I never meant to offend—”

“I’m sure,” she cuts him off, not interested in the slightest with his excuses. She didn’t care when he was screaming them after he’d been thrown into her personal dungeons, didn’t as Robin had doled out his punishment, and didn’t now as he begged for his life. “Tell me, Sydney, you have served at this castle for a millenia, correct?”

“Y-yes, Your Majesty,” he stutters, thrown by her question.

“And, in the centuries that you have known me, have I ever taken disrespect lightly?”

He shakes his head.

“So, why then, should I be lenient now?” A twitch of her fingers on one hand, a lazy, half formed gesture, is all the signal Robin needs to grab Sydney’s right arm, twisting it up above his shoulder and holding it there.

“The Queen has plenty of other demons—ones who don’t talk about wanting to bed my wife. Wanting to own their Queen—that are just as gifted as you are,” he hisses to Sydney, though his eyes remain locked with hers even as Sydney begins to beg him.

She listens for a moment, lets him plead for his life so that everyone gathered can hear it. Hear it and witness what she does to demons who don’t know their place, before she is jerking her chin at her lover and snarling “I tire of this.”

Robin’s smile turns bloodthirsty. “As you wish, my love,” he says as he tightens his grip on Sydney’s wrist, deaf to the other demon’s cries, moves his other hand to his bicep and rips them in opposite directions, snapping his arm in two places. His fist collides with Sydney’s jaw mid-scream, cutting it off before it can really start and causing his cheekbone to cave in. Blood pours from his mouth and nose, and trickles down his arm from where bone protrudes through his skin to form a puddle beneath him.

There is a dangerous glint to his eye that has her licking her lips and tilting her head to watch as he hauls Sydney up onto his feet, only to grasp the sword at Will’s hip, no doubt deliberately within his reach, and swing it around to slice his hamstrings and send him back down, spraying Robin and those closest with blood. She watches, transfixed, as Robin passes the blade to his friend and circles him as he sways on his legs, before kicking out at his kneecaps when he reaches the front again.

As his knees crack and shatter against the stone floor, Regina stands. She glides down the steps, the lace of her gown trailing behind her like a river brilliant gold, stepping through the red mess snaking its way across the floor. She places a hand on Robin’s shoulder, stilling him instantly, as she rubs at the muscles and presses a kiss—oddly chaste, innocent even, covered in blood as he is—to his jawline.

Sneering down at him Regina gestures with her hand, her magic lifting him up like a rag doll, and reaches forward to dig the razor sharp points of the gold covered tips of her fingers deep into the flesh of his neck. Unlike with Robin earlier, she holds him until five dots of blood bubble up to dribble down his front.

“You ought to have kept your wishes to yourself,” she whispers, giving him a moment to look into her eyes, to see the steel her kind is made of, before she smiles and rips his throat out.

Robin laughs, delighted, and molds himself to her back as they watch him bleed out in front of the court. She can feel him, hard and wanting and pressing into the crest of her ass, as the light fades from Sydney’s form, trapping his soul forever.

Not saying a word—Will and John will dispose of the body before his soul can regenerate, or find a new host. And the members of court can be counted on to spread the word of what happens to those who step out of line. Gossip has its place, even in Hell—she leaves the Throne Room, her arm linked through her husband’s and her blood screaming for those promises of later.

[audreysl0ve]

Dark!OQ Week: Free Day

Rated M.  Rated VERY M. Regina and Robin find themselves in the Enchanted Forest and make use of Snow White’s castle and its lovely accommodations.

Thanks to @repellomuggletum15 @the-alpha-incipiens, @brookeap3 and @starscythe for the encouragement and help with this.

A magic bean takes concentration to be used properly.  Unfortunately, Regina’s mind is anything but focused as she uses that bean.  She meant to transport them to her castle, but certain thoughts bubble in her mind, thoughts that have her second guessing that decision, has her mind racing through several different, safer corners of her kingdom instead.  She’s somewhat surprised when they arrive in the middle of an old trail, a mere mile from Snow’s summer castle.  The nostalgia and happiness of the moment - of knowing that they made it, makes it happier than she can imagine.  She should wait, should make the treck to her castle herself (or hell, use her magic to poof herself there) but there’s such an appeal in bringing Robin to Snow White’s castle.  She can hardly wait to share a lust-filled night in the princess’s bed.  In fact, the debauchery of it all is too powerful to resist.

Besides, Regina’s castle has… memories.  And issues.  And things she needs to discuss with him, places where they cannot go, places where her mind wanders at times, and no, she’d rather not deal with all of that right away.

“This looks like my realm,” Robin says cautiously as they make their journey.

“It’s almost exactly like yours in every way.  Except the people are real, so we are going to have to try to kill less.  Oh and my son won’t be urging every man, woman and child to hunt us.”

“Mm,” Robin says, winking at her.  “Sounds a bit boring, no?”

“Oh, I think we can keep each other’s interest,” she says in that deep, smooth voice of hers.

He looks at her warmly, biting his lip as his eyes take over every part of her body.

They haven’t spent too terribly long with one another, but still, she knows what that look means.  And thank god, because she wants to rip his clothes off just as badly as he appears to want to rip hers off.

But they will both have to wait.

She’s been giving him the same heated look he’s been shooting her, but she turns away now, and focuses on the road before them.  “Come on, I have a lot to show you,” she says, ignoring his suggestive Oh yes you certainly do response.

When he fails to get a rise out of her, Robin takes a an interest in their destination.  He picks up speed, darts through overgrown woods and sighs out a puff of frustration.

“Can’t you… use your magic to transport us there?” he asks impatiently, as they continue their journey.

“Robin of Locksley, man of the forest, now can’t even stand do a one-hour hike…” Regina clicks her tongue disapprovingly, “I guess I have made you soft, after all.”

“Soft isn’t the word I’d use to describe how you make me,” he grunts.  “And I haven’t had time to explore your body without threat of death hanging over us in forever.” He grabs her and pulls her close, arms looped tightly around her waist, lips inches from her own.  “I’ve been dying to pay you proper attention, so let’s just go…” He nibbles on her neck, pressing kisses between small bites, and it’s absolute heaven.

“I want to take you on a stroll through our new town,” she argues, though her voice has that edge of need she can’t hide.  She wants this as badly as he does.

Continue on FF.net

Continue on AO3  

[somewhereapart]

Adventure Awaits (Dark!OQ)

Author’s Note: We've seen Robin of Locksley pop the question, but what was Regina's answer? For OQ FixIt Week, Day 7.

She's still staring at the ring, the note, her face cracked into a wide smile, warmth flushing and flushing around her rapidly beating heart when she hears his steps behind her – she's meant to hear him, she knows. He can be silent as a cat when he wants to be.

There are words on the tip of her tongue, words from another life, and she doesn't want to start them off with the shadows of Then, and Him, but she just can't help herself. 

“That arrow almost took off my head, thief,” she teases, glancing up into the mirror to meet his eyes.

He's smiling at her, all fondness tinged under with nerves, and the hand not gripping his bow rises to comb fingers lightly through the brush-smoothed locks of her ponytail as he assures her, “Never.”

Her smile widens impossibly – he's rougher around the edges, this Robin of Locksley. More uncouth, more crass, feistier and more combative (dirtier in all the best ways, too). But he has a gentle streak, a tenderness in the way he touches her in the quiet moments.

It reminds her of weaving fingers across tabletops in Camelot, of gentle hands on her as she lay bleeding out in that backward reality before Henry had saved them all. She's made peace with the fact that he's not Robin Hood, wrapping it up in the realization that she's meant to love this man in all his realms and roles.  

She's made discovering who he is here, now, an exercise in curiosity rather than comparison, and she's found that he fits nearly along all the jagged edges left by her violent separation from her Other Half. He's quick-witted and nimble-fingered, passionate, and surprisingly patient when he wants to be. And he lacks judgement, just as he always has – as Robin Hood had, she corrects herself.  (Comparison is a knee jerk now and then, after all, but she's trying and it gets easier by the day.)

When he asks her, “What do you say, Your Majesty?” and bites into his lower lip to hide the anxious anticipation of awaiting her answer, she wants to say Yes, it’s right there on the tip of her tongue.

But it stalls there behind her teeth, her smile fading away ever so slightly as her answer seems to stick in her throat. 

It’s not her first proposal, after all. At least this time, she’s the one who gets to answer.

“I’ve been married before,” she reminds him, as if he could have forgotten when they’re here in the high-ceiling chambers she conquered from the man who’d tried to conquer her.

“I don’t mind,” he shrugs, as if that was the issue, and as if he isn’t pulsing with nervous energy that she can feel at her back.

“I did,” she tells him, growing serious for just a moment, that smile finally slipping away entirely. “My marriage was hell. It was a prison; it stole me from a life I wanted and caged me in a… a nightmare. 

She tries not to think of it most of the time – of those early years, her marriage bed, the King, the loneliness, and anger, and despair.

Robin’s smile falls in the wake of hers, his fingertips brushing her neck lightly as they move to settle on her shoulder.

“You don’t wish to marry again,” he states, and try as he might to hide it, she can see the disappointment, the rejection in the way his gaze drops away for just a moment.

She brings her hand back to squeeze the one on her shoulder, and waits for their eyes to lock again in the looking glass before she corrects, “I don’t wish to be owned. I know how marriage often works in this realm, and I want to make it very clear that I won’t be a wife who gets treated like a subject. I’ll be a partner, an equal, and nothing less.”

“Have I ever treated you as anything less, Your Majesty?” he asks her, and no, no he hasn’t.

“Never,” she tells him with a small smile. “But if I’m going to promise myself to you, I want a promise in return.”

Robin gives her a nod, and then a promise: “We’ll be equals, always. We’ll take only what is given to each other, and steal nothing more.”

You can’t steal what’s been given to you echoes through her mind, but she pushes it back, forces away the shadows of what came before for what is standing behind her now.

“I’ve never belonged anywhere, Regina, until you. And now I want us to belong to each other, for the rest of our days.” 

The smile grows again, blossoming over her cheeks – he’s not as prone to poetry as Robin Hood had been, but he has his moments. And he’s sincere, and she trusts him, trusts his heart, so she puts him out of his misery and says, “Now that sounds like an adventure I want to be a part of.”

His grin resurrects itself, his dimples winking deep and dashing before her chair is spun with the magic of well-muscled arms, the scrape of wood on stone loud in the room, and then he's kissing her. Hard and hot and eager, the way she likes it, the way they both do.

She laughs softly into the kiss – okay, alright, she giggles, her heart feeling lighter than it has since… well, since she had a lot more lightness in her, that’s for certain. She feels good, feels happy, feels like things are finally falling into place. There’s a future set out before her, one of her own making.

The circumstances that got her here, got both of them here, may not have been of their own choosing, but everything that lies before them is.

She’d thought her existence one of unending bleakness, and had thought that every trace of Robin had been wiped out of existence, and yet here they are. Tangled up with one another, his hands pushing soft velvet up her thighs, his mouth tracing warm kisses down her neck, and Regina feels something that she’d thought she’d never have again after she was ripped in two.

Hope.

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Dark OQ Week: Family

This is my own little retcon for giving the Queen the family she deserves, as well as my own attempt to answer what Wish!Robin is, and why he didn't age. Written for Dark OQ week - Family. Thanks to @repellomuggletum15 and @the-alpha-incipiens for not letting me quit this :)

They end up spending another day at Snow's castle. Sleeping in, making love by the fire, it is all... quite a perfect holiday. But now it's time to show him around the woods of the Enchanted Forest, and ultimately her castle. She's oddly excited to show him her former home, now that they've cleared the air. So her morning is full of giddy anticipation for what may come. And then everything changes in a moment, as she hears a sound that makes her blood run cold.

She'd recognize that laugh anywhere. It's a squeal, and a long giggle, and then a Put me downnnnnn Johnnn! that has her tackling Robin and throwing him off the trail into a dense gathering of shrubs. It's almost comical, she supposes, as she bum rushes him, headfirst, and rolls him out of eyesight of the approaching group.

It's not the first time she's been... rough with Robin, and he takes it well, he really does, rubbing his head while she grabs his hand and leads him uphill, deeper into the woods. He mutters, "I truly hope that was necessary."

"It was," she hisses, "Now shut up."

She can't help herself; she has to look. She pulls back thick, leaf laden branches of a nearby shrub and watches as the boy skips down the trail.

"Uncle Johnnnnn you cheated at hide and seek!" he exclaims, "That's not fair!"

"I can't just close my eyes and let you roam around the forest!" he argues, "that game doesn't work here."

Roland pouts adorably, once again chiding John for being such a rule breaker, and her heart melts at the tender moment. God, she wishes she was there, wishes she could hold him again, trade secrets and eskimo kisses and feed him treats…

"Who are they and why in the hell are we hiding from them?" Robin looks positively pissed. "You've got magic, I've got my bow, that man is the size of a barn door and I doubt he could move quick enough to avoid an arrow, this is ridiculous, I'm going back on the trail."

"Nooo!" she whispers. "That's Robin's child, those are his men."

His eyes go wide for a second, then slant, and he rolls them, looking absolutely livid. "For fuck's sake you could have cracked one of my ribs over this, who cares if it's awkward for them to see you…"

"I'm not hiding from them," Regina explains. "I'm hiding from Roland. His son."

"We are hiding from a child?" Robin asks, dumbfounded. "This is ridiculous, I'm going back on the trail, we've wasted enough time —"

"Don't you dare," she threatens, "If you even go near that child…"

"I don't care about the kid, I'm not threat to him. Unless you think he's a threat to me. What is he going to do, bite me with his baby teeth?"

"He'll think you're his papa, you idiot," she explains.

"I gathered that, and so what?" He asks, agitated. "I'm not going to spend my life running away from a toddler because I happen to look like the boy's father. He should learn one way or another. I'm off…"

"You'll traumatize him!" she exclaims, because he has to understand, doesn't he? How much it will hurt the boy, how can he be so callous... how can he care so little…?

"Yes, well, his father died at the hands of Hades himself, and some crazy witch had a sister he's now never going to see, and he's jumped more realms than anyone has in a lifetime. I think he's been traumatized already, a little more won't hurt him."

Robin is walking with purpose back to that trail, and Regina made a promise to him, to never use magic without his consent. She doesn't want it to be like this, doesn't want to use magic on people she cares for, but, well, at this instant she doesn't care much for him at all, so why not?

She waves her hand and freezes him dead in his tracks, before he can traumatize the poor boy.

And then she follows Roland a bit, hidden in the thick foliage that surrounds the trail. She lets him go, let's tears fall and wanders back to Robin, releasing him from his frozen state.

"What the hell?" he asks, massaging the arm that had been held in the air for the last fifteen minutes. He probably can't even feel it anymore, and Regina doesn't even care.

"If you're going to act like a pathetic piece of trash you can't be upset when I treat you as such," Regina snarls at him. "You were going to hurt that child, for what? For fun?"

"I was going to go about my business and not spend my life ducking around corners to hide from a child," he exclaims.

"It's a big realm," she reminds him, "you'll probably never see him again, so why not just this one time consider someone else's feelings?"

"Oh I highly doubt that will be the last we see of him," Robin groans, "you will probably be meeting up with him soon, won't you? I saw the way you looked at him, it's like a mother hen looking after her baby chick. It's just a matter of time. And then where the hell will I be?"

"I assume you'll be off in the corner somewhere licking your wounds, feeling pathetic that you are jealous of a child!" she screams back.

"I'm not jealous; I'm annoyed. I don't like children, Regina. And I do like you, but you've taken me to a realm where the boy exists, and...was that your plan all along? You'd spend your days playing mother while I go off to wherever the fuck you send me, and then, what, beckon for me at night when you need your fun? Like some fucking pet you can just lock away when it's convenient?"

"Oh, you wish I liked you enough to treat you as a pet!" Regina snarks, "And as for the rest, this argument is irrelevant because I'll never see Roland again. I won't risk it, not when you're still here. So congratulations, you win. I've given up yet another loved one for you, are you happy?"

She hates him, at this moment, hates him as much as she hates herself. He's not her Robin, he's a pathetic, twisted shell of the man she loved. The man she loved would never… never be so callous about the feelings of a child. She was an idiot for ever letting herself feel so much for a man who obviously is nothing compared to the real Robin.

She doesn't speak to him the entire rest of the way to the castle.

When they enter through the gates she mutters, "Pick a room, any room but mine. Take your own damn tour of the castle. I'm tired, and I'm looking forward to finally being able to sleep on my own bed. Alone." She was supposed to share with him, tell him secrets, things she's proud of and things she's ashamed, and yes, scared of...but instead there's only an unsettling, cool distance blowing between them. And the last thing she wants to do with him is talk about painful memories, so she welcomes that distance now.

She stalks off to her chambers, missing the way Robin's face falls ever so slightly as she storms away from him.

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