Another RumpleXReader because I just cant deal with what hes done! I hope you enjoy, and if youd like me to write some characterXreader with other characters, lemme know! Wendybird with a Wand Heart for a Heart – RumplestiltskinXReader Key: (y/n)-your name (h/l/c)-hair length and color Back at the pawnshop, your mind was still reeling from what you had overheard. You had only been sitting in the back room of the pawnshop, reading, but then Hooks stormed in and you discovered was a horrible truth. It wasn’t as though you hadn’t had suspicions; you knew Rumplestiltskin had been lying about knowing about the Snow Queen, Anna, and Elsa. You knew about most of the deals he had made, including his deals with them. Therefore you suspected the dagger Belle had was a fake. You’d tried not to let it bother you; after all you knew how Rumple felt about power. But what you had overheard Hooks say in his message to Emma was a different matter. You still couldn’t quite believe he had actually planned to destroy Emma, his son’s true love, with that damned hat! But he hadn’t stopped there, oh no; he’d taken Hook’s heart as well. You were Rumple’s friend, you’d stuck with him through so many of his horrible choices, but this had crossed a line. After overhearing all this you’d sat frozen in your chair, thinking. It had been about two hours now, and you knew what you had to do. You didn’t want to do it; you hadn’t asked to know what he’d done. But you did, and you had a duty to protect the people of Storybrooke—your friends—from him. You hear the bells tinkle as the door swings open and the footsteps that follow. You close your eyes briefly, taking in a deep breath. “I’m sorry, Rumple,” you sigh, and emerge from the back room. “(y/n)!” Rumplestiltskin says, looking up in surprise. “I…what are you doing here? Did you need something?” His face looks so…innocent. There’s no guilt, no remorse in it. Is it an act, or does he truly feel nothing for his crimes? “I know what you did, Rumplestiltskin,” you say, your voice tight. He squints at you, an expression you recognize as his confused façade. “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” he says. “Yes, you do,” you say. “The dagger you gave Belle is a fake. And you’ve been using the Sorcerer’s hat to absorb power!” “Have you been looking into that mirror?” Rumple asks. You laugh derisively. “Don’t insult me, Rumple. I KNOW this to be true…I know you were lying about not knowing the Snow Queen. You have the real dagger, and you’ve been using the hat. You can TASTE its magic in the air!” “I need to separate myself from the dagger, (y/n). Try to understand, you always have before.” “But you’re killing people. Tonight, you tried to kill Emma! How could you do that?” “How do you know that…?” Rumple says, his voice wondering. “Hook,” you say. “He barged in here looking for you, and left a message for Emma on her phone. I overheard him.” Rumple closes his eyes in that way he does when he’s irritated with someone who isn’t currently in the vicinity. “Damned pirate,” he whispers. “He knew all that because you blackmailed him. Anna was right; you turn love into a weapon! And it doesn’t even look like you feel any regret!” “I never regret anything, dearie,” he says. “That’s a lie,” you say. “We both know that you’ve been full of regret. That’s why you came here, was it not? Regret?” “What are you going to do, dearie?” he says, ignoring you’re statement. “Tell everyone? I admit, they will believe you, but be warned; if you harm my marriage—” “Me? Harm you’re marriage? ME? Ha! You’re the one who is harming your marriage! It doesn’t matter if I don’t tell a soul! Belle will find out, everyone will. If you had in fact succeeded tonight, they would have. Did you ever think about that?” “I had a plan,” Rumple says. “Of course you did. But that doesn’t matter now, because I know everything you did, and I know what you intend to do. Hook’s heart was the missing ingredient to break you from the dagger, I assume?” “How could you possibly know about that?” Rumple asks. “One of my greatest magical skills is empathy, remember? I can tell when someone’s heart beats in their chest and when it beats elsewhere!” Rumple just looks at you; that nervous, calculating look he gives people when considers them a threat, and they have the advantage. “What do you want?” he asks. “For your silence?” “Simple,” you say, and quick as a flash fling your hands forward in a blast of light magic that knocks Rumplestiltskin back into one of the shelves. He recovers quickly but stares at you in astonishment for a second too long before he conjures a sheet of flame to fling at you, so you are ready for it; you block it easily and send out your next attack. You are not a more powerful sorcerer than him, but you work in light magic, which gives you a slight advantage. Now the two of you are full-scale dueling, his brown eyes alight with fire, your (e/c) ones glowing with power and your (h/l/c) whipping around you as you dance. His next blast of fire scorches your left arm and you scream in pain, but keep fighting. You conjure a magic sword and swing it through the air, blocking Rumple’s attacks, trying to throw him off-balance. At last there’s an opening, and you lunge, burying the sword in his side. The blow is not fatal; nothing but the dagger can administer a fatal blow when there’s magic. But it’s painful, and he stands there stunned, staring at you with a betrayed look in his eyes that almost makes you withdraw the blade. But not quite. You stare into his face, the same sweet face you first saw more than three hundred years ago, and saw again when Belle had come into his life. Where had he gone wrong? Your hands shake, but your resolve is strong. “I’m sorry, Rumple,” you say. You plunge your hand into his chest, grasp his heart, and yank it out. Then you remove the sword and his wound heals quickly. You stare down at his heart; it’s small, like it stopped growing when he was young, and black as coal. There are a few ribbons of light running through it, but they are weak. It’s a sad sight to behold. You look up and meet Rumple’s betrayed and terrified eyes. “You want to know how it feels to be betrayed by someone you love?” you ask, then squeeze the little heart. Rumple gasps and sinks to his knees, clutching at the place in his chance where his heart was a minute ago. “Like that,” you say, and stop squeezing. “What are you going to do?” Rumple whispers. “Making a deal,” you say. “You’ll get this back when you give Hook’s back.” With that, you storm from the shop.
Posted on: Fri, 21 Nov 2014 22:56:20 +0000
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