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LiteratureHistory Repeats ItselfHe was the pawnbroker. More than that, he was the fearsome landlord who owned the majority of the town and there was hardly a single person in Storybrooke, Maine who hadn't had an unfavorable confrontation with Mr. Gold. In fact, there was only one. Rose French was-- well, she might have been the town librarian, had Mayor Mills not closed down the library years ago for reasons nobody could quite remember. It wasn't a rare sight to see her with a book in hand, regardless of where she was or what she was doing. More than once, she'd nearly run right into Dr. Hopper while he was out walking his dog. She was a nice girl, anyone in town would tellLiteratureI Need You1. “You’re back.” Had he been anyone but Lysandre de Fleur, that would have been an entirely underwhelming response to seeing his friend for the first time in over a month, but the smile tugging at the corners of his mouth told Augustine Sycamore that he was glad to see him. “I am.” He tried to return the smile, but it was clearly forced. “How have you been?” Well, that wasn’t what Lysandre had been expecting. Augustine had spent over a month at the Tower of Mastery studying Mega Evolution, and all he had to say upon his return was ’how have you been?’ He frowned. “How have yoLiteraturesay you won't let go( I MET YOU IN THE DARK ) viktor nikiforov is a lot of things. happy has never been one of them. for as long as he can remember, his life has been devoted to ONE THING: skating. it consumes him; he is nothing without it. he wakes each morning in an empty apartment, save for makkachin, & heads to the rink. he returns alone, usually, or else with one-night stands whose names he can never remember who leave by dawn’s first light. if this isn’t what life is supposed to be like, viktor doesn’t know it. it’s all he’s eLiteraturethings you said in your sleep they’re seated on the sofa in the library, laurent curled up against damen’s side, his head resting against his shoulder. oh, it hadn’t STARTED that way, but it seems that laurent is more exhausted that he’d let on – after only an hour of damen reading to him ( their newest pastime ), he’d begun to drowse. “laurent?” says damen softly, & waits to see if he’ll receive a response. he doesn’t. he can’t help but smile a little as he closes the book and sets it aside. he feels honored, really, that laurent feels so comfortable with him – that he trusts Literaturethings you said i wouldn't understand as a child, he doesn’t understand the art of war. his mind is meticulous – he can consume & process information with ease, & he devours the books in the castle’s library so voraciously that his father has long since given up on the prospect of his youngest son ever matching his eldest in skill on the battlefield. he reads about war. he can, if he applies himself to the task, assist his brother in strategizing. he just doesn’t see the point. war is a bloody undertaking that laurent doesn’t see the THRILL in. even at the age of thirteen, he possesses the charm capable of ( he thinks ) cLiteratureThe Ice WandThe Ice Wand I Once upon a time, there lived a baker and his three sons. He was a kind man, but he had no tolerance for foolishness. Unfortunately, his eldest son possessed this quality in spades. Despite his low standings, he was an extremely vain young man who believed that he was destined for a life far greater than that of a measly baker. He cared for nobody but himself, and he spent his days either at sleep or at play, leaving all of his chores to his younger brothers. They never once complained, more than happy to assist their beloved father in his work. A fortnight after the youngest son came of age, the oldLiteratureyour life was my life's best partHe does not remember much. He remembers the thrill of battle, remembers slaying Sarpedon. He remembers feeling invincible, remembers feeling safe & secure in Achilles’ armor. He remembers Automedon urging him to stop – Achilles does not want you to leave the beach. He remembers the exhilaration he’d felt as he sliced through Trojan after Trojan – ( is this how Achilles feels? is this what it’s like to be Achilles? ) He remembers pursuing the Trojans to the gates, remembers seeing Hector & then… NOTHING. He remembers nothing after that. He does not know who brought him back to the cLiteraturedo not be afraid to flyDo not be an Icarus, they say. Do not fly too close to the sun. You fell, and your name became synonymous with overreaching, clinging blindly to unattainable goals that end in self-destruction. But your father warned you not to fly too high, nor too low, and if you were fated to disobey, I think you made the right choice. You were always going to come to ruin, drowned in the watery depths. At least you felt the heat on your back before the fall, tasted victory, met with triumph. The warmth of the sun must have felt like freedom, and you were drawn as the moth to the flame. The cold ocean spray is less inviting. The sun remembere