Various x Reader

Rumpelstiltskin/Mr.Gold x Reader

A/N: There is no Belle in this story. Accept it. I cannot possibly be the only closet Rumpel fan out there...it's just not possible. He's so......words cannot describe how obsessive I am over him. Of course, he's completely OOC in my head...and here. I apologize.

Mr. Gold hated to admit it, but he needed help. Somebody had slipped a sleeping death potion into Henry. It was a most peculiar brew, and Gold couldn't help but feel as though the effects were familiar. As though it was made by somebody he knew.

Who had slipped it into Henry's drink, or food, or whatever was beyond him. This particular version of sleeping death immediately put the victim to sleep, where they would then sleep for 55 years, having constant nightmares that grew progressively worse as the years drifted by. The victim would be perfectly preserved, that is, they wouldn't age or grow weaker at all. On the 55th year, the victim will die of a heart-attack. From the nightmares, Gold supposed. How he knew all of this? The brew was familiar to him, familiar enough to know the effects, but not familiar enough for him to be able to figure out exactly what would counter-act it.

He had tried everything he could think of to fix this problem on his own. It had been a week already...he was under fire from Bailfire, Regina, and Emma. Of course, they hadn't come directly to him. They all had their attempts at waking him.

Henry was too young to have a true love besides his mother...but the potion was brilliantly designed to counter-act that kind of love. Truly fascinating...but now wasn't the time.

As he was reading one of the books in his shop, trying desperately to even find a recipe for this potion, an idea dawned on him, and he smirked as he shut the book.

Emma, Regina, and Bailfire glanced at him. "Did you find anything?" Emma asked rather bluntly.

Gold shook his head. "Not exactly, but I thought of somebody who might be able to help us."

"Who?" Regina asked curiously.

Gold chuckled a bit. "You wouldn't know her."

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I, _____ the young spirit of balance, was lost. Was this a problem? Not really. Did this injure my pride? Ohhh, immeasurably.

"What are you doing out here in the rain, dearie?" I heard a rather...interesting voice ask me.

"Clearly I am searching for the last of the seven ancient, magical squirrels." Was my automatic response. I am a very sarcastic person. "What do you think I'm doing?"

"I would watch what you say, dearie, and I do believe you are lost." The voice responded as a very odd...rather scaly, person appeared in front of me.

I raised an eyebrow. "Has anyone ever informed you that you are extraordinarily creepy?"

"Why no." He responded. "They are typically too afraid to mention it."

"I imagine if you wanted to kill me, you would have done it by now. So on that note, what do you want?" I demanded. I'm not usually like this. I'm in such a bad mood.

"Temper, temper. I merely wondered who you are, and what you are doing here." He responded.

My mood automatically brightened. Introducing myself is one of my most favorite things to do. "Why, I am ______, the spirit of balance at your service." I said with a rather elegant, elaborate bow.

He introduced himself as Rumpelstiltskin in a fashion just a dramatic as my own.

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