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For a prompt on the kinkmeme. Um. Kinkmemes are bad for me?
Title: Golden Fishes
Rating: R
Fandom: Once Upon A Time
Characters/Pairings: Dark One Rumpelstiltskin, Ursula the Sea Goddess. Rumple/Ursula
Summary: "It was not every day, after all, that such wriggling, hateful little fishes fell shining into her lap, to be tangled sweetly for her pleasure."
Wordcount: 763
Warnings/Notes: Um. Extremely dubious consent, tentacles. Also, I'm borrowing a lot off the Disney's Little Mermaid version of Ursula, since we see so little of her in OUAT?
Disclaimer: Not mine, and I probably shouldn't be allowed touch it -_-;
Title: Golden Fishes
Rating: R
Fandom: Once Upon A Time
Characters/Pairings: Dark One Rumpelstiltskin, Ursula the Sea Goddess. Rumple/Ursula
Summary: "It was not every day, after all, that such wriggling, hateful little fishes fell shining into her lap, to be tangled sweetly for her pleasure."
Wordcount: 763
Warnings/Notes: Um. Extremely dubious consent, tentacles. Also, I'm borrowing a lot off the Disney's Little Mermaid version of Ursula, since we see so little of her in OUAT?
Disclaimer: Not mine, and I probably shouldn't be allowed touch it -_-;
Golden Fishes
Everything drifted down to her eventually, sifted down through the cracks between worlds, her ocean a great baleen maw of ages. She was first and last, primordial and vast, and when she hungered, sooner or later, she was fed. Wrecked on her shores, fished from her seas, all she needed would eventually fall into her lap.
Occasionally rather literally.
And here. Such a pretty thing, a golden treasure floating up from the wreckage of a world, magic drifting like an ink-dark cloud around him. Wild-eyed and fierce and snarling, a living thing, a defiant thing, trembling within her grasp.
Wriggling, a golden little fish, caught trapped between her coils.
"Oh, now," she purred, wrapping the delicate tip of a tentacle around one flailing arm, drifting upwards the better to tangle him more thoroughly beneath her. "Don't fret so, my dear. We'll have you sorted out in a jiffy. There's just, of course, the small question of price."
And oh! Oh, such a precious face. He stilled, glaring up at her with all the liquid fury of a dealmaker, bested by one ever so much older and more wicked than he. Someone so much kinder, so much more heartless. She laughed at him, caught his cheeks in five-fingered hands and brought his face close to lick at that furious mouth, to trace those snarling, moss-stained teeth with her tongue. He wrenched his head back, his back arching in her coils with all the force of magic in him, and she caught him without effort. Wrapped a black knot of tentacle like a fist in wire-gold hair, tugged it upwards to have him meet her once again.
"Damn you," he snarled, a bubble of bile and hate to stain the saline around them, words of poison to cloud them like ink. She loved it, a pulse of her limbs to push them upwards, to swirl his hatred around them and them within it. He jerked within her grasp, his body at last going limp and resigned, and in the moment as he stilled she trapped his legs beneath her and slid one soft, black tip beneath the leather of his coat, the better to taste the gold beneath it.
"Hush now," she crooned, opening him up beneath her, slipping herself beneath the scales of her shining little fish, while his eyes went dark and pained with hate. "It's only a little price, my dear. Over in the blink of an eye, for a pair as old and wicked as we. Just a little while for Ursula's games, before we send you back to play them with more fragile things. Come, my dear. What do you say. Do we have a deal?"
"... Damn you," he whispered again, hot and hateful. And then, abruptly, there was a flash of gold as his claws dug deep into her skin, a glorious rush of sensation as a dark and vicious magic writhed around her, striving to sink beneath her flesh and open her as she had him. He twisted in the waters that cradled him, pushing himself up against her with a bite of hands around her hips, and pressed his face to hers with a smile that was nothing but teeth.
"Yes," he hissed, trapped and vicious and blackly delighted with her, his magic dark and golden and drowning as the sea. "Yes, my lady, we have a deal." A snarl, a shining thing. "And much joy may it bring you."
Ursula barked with laughter, a rich crow of triumph, and flung him downwards with a twist of her tentacles to land in a tangled bed of seaweed. She was on him before he could do more than gasp, sliding black limbs beneath his leathers and carving him free as a bone knife scales a fish. He snapped out a hand in fury, naked and golden as the things that crawled in black abyssal trenches, and she caught it on a grin, brought it to her lips to press rough kisses to his knuckles and bite at the bones hidden beneath that glittering skin.
"Oh," she purred, rough and adoring at the mingled fear and fascination in his face, at the fire of him and that trembling curl of magic. "Darling, I've no doubt it will bring me joy indeed."
It was not every day, after all, that such wriggling, hateful little fishes fell shining into her lap, to be tangled sweetly for her pleasure. No, not every day at all. In all her aeons, so few fishes such as he.
All the sweeter, then. For the rarity.
Everything drifted down to her eventually, sifted down through the cracks between worlds, her ocean a great baleen maw of ages. She was first and last, primordial and vast, and when she hungered, sooner or later, she was fed. Wrecked on her shores, fished from her seas, all she needed would eventually fall into her lap.
Occasionally rather literally.
And here. Such a pretty thing, a golden treasure floating up from the wreckage of a world, magic drifting like an ink-dark cloud around him. Wild-eyed and fierce and snarling, a living thing, a defiant thing, trembling within her grasp.
Wriggling, a golden little fish, caught trapped between her coils.
"Oh, now," she purred, wrapping the delicate tip of a tentacle around one flailing arm, drifting upwards the better to tangle him more thoroughly beneath her. "Don't fret so, my dear. We'll have you sorted out in a jiffy. There's just, of course, the small question of price."
And oh! Oh, such a precious face. He stilled, glaring up at her with all the liquid fury of a dealmaker, bested by one ever so much older and more wicked than he. Someone so much kinder, so much more heartless. She laughed at him, caught his cheeks in five-fingered hands and brought his face close to lick at that furious mouth, to trace those snarling, moss-stained teeth with her tongue. He wrenched his head back, his back arching in her coils with all the force of magic in him, and she caught him without effort. Wrapped a black knot of tentacle like a fist in wire-gold hair, tugged it upwards to have him meet her once again.
"Damn you," he snarled, a bubble of bile and hate to stain the saline around them, words of poison to cloud them like ink. She loved it, a pulse of her limbs to push them upwards, to swirl his hatred around them and them within it. He jerked within her grasp, his body at last going limp and resigned, and in the moment as he stilled she trapped his legs beneath her and slid one soft, black tip beneath the leather of his coat, the better to taste the gold beneath it.
"Hush now," she crooned, opening him up beneath her, slipping herself beneath the scales of her shining little fish, while his eyes went dark and pained with hate. "It's only a little price, my dear. Over in the blink of an eye, for a pair as old and wicked as we. Just a little while for Ursula's games, before we send you back to play them with more fragile things. Come, my dear. What do you say. Do we have a deal?"
"... Damn you," he whispered again, hot and hateful. And then, abruptly, there was a flash of gold as his claws dug deep into her skin, a glorious rush of sensation as a dark and vicious magic writhed around her, striving to sink beneath her flesh and open her as she had him. He twisted in the waters that cradled him, pushing himself up against her with a bite of hands around her hips, and pressed his face to hers with a smile that was nothing but teeth.
"Yes," he hissed, trapped and vicious and blackly delighted with her, his magic dark and golden and drowning as the sea. "Yes, my lady, we have a deal." A snarl, a shining thing. "And much joy may it bring you."
Ursula barked with laughter, a rich crow of triumph, and flung him downwards with a twist of her tentacles to land in a tangled bed of seaweed. She was on him before he could do more than gasp, sliding black limbs beneath his leathers and carving him free as a bone knife scales a fish. He snapped out a hand in fury, naked and golden as the things that crawled in black abyssal trenches, and she caught it on a grin, brought it to her lips to press rough kisses to his knuckles and bite at the bones hidden beneath that glittering skin.
"Oh," she purred, rough and adoring at the mingled fear and fascination in his face, at the fire of him and that trembling curl of magic. "Darling, I've no doubt it will bring me joy indeed."
It was not every day, after all, that such wriggling, hateful little fishes fell shining into her lap, to be tangled sweetly for her pleasure. No, not every day at all. In all her aeons, so few fishes such as he.
All the sweeter, then. For the rarity.
