The Immortal Gazette Presents: Pygmalion and Galatea |Love, Statues, and Turning Fantasy Into Reality
The Immortal Gazette studio hummed with energy, as usual—though today, the temperature had noticeably increased. Alice sat, casually swirling her tea, while Loki lounged in the chair next to her, eyes flashing with the gleam of mischief. Rumple, ever the professional, was already rubbing his temples in the corner, a bottle of something strong sitting ominously next to him.
“So, today’s story,” Rumple started, his voice thick with the burden of patience, “is about Pygmalion and Galatea. It’s an old myth about a sculptor who...”
“Falls in love with his own statue,” Loki interrupted, grinning widely. “How... romantic.”
Alice’s lips curled into a smile. “I don’t see why you’re laughing. It’s beautiful, Loki. It’s about longing, desire, and...” She glanced at him, eyes glinting mischievously. “Transforming something you love into something real.”
Loki scoffed, “Turning a rock into a woman doesn’t exactly scream romance, does it?”
Alice’s gaze narrowed, her voice dropping a notch. “You know, if you spent half as much time creating something beautiful as you do criticizing others, maybe you’d understand the magic.”
Loki leaned forward, his smirk never wavering. “Oh, but I’m the one who understands magic. You see, I have this thing called self-preservation. Not that I would ever fall in love with a lifeless object… unlike Pygmalion.”
Rumple cleared his throat loudly, obviously already fed up. “The story goes like this: Pygmalion, a gifted sculptor, was disillusioned with women. He thought they were all flawed and imperfect, so he created the perfect woman, Galatea, out of ivory. And he fell in love with her.”
Loki snorted. “Right. Because that doesn’t sound like a man who needs therapy.”
Alice’s eyes sparkled. “I mean, what’s not to love about a perfect woman?”
Loki’s eyes twinkled with mischief. “Oh, I don’t know. Maybe the part where she’s not alive, and he’s basically in love with a glorified paperweight.”
Loki rolled his eyes. “Let me guess, they lived happily ever after in a bed of roses.”
Rumple pressed on, ignoring the bickering. “Pygmalion loved her so much that he prayed to Venus, the goddess of love, for her to come to life. And she did. Galatea became real, they married and had children, and it became one of the most beloved love stories in Greek mythology and they lived happily ever after.”
Alice’s smile grew, dreamy. “See? True love. No tricks. No lies.”
Loki tilted his head, studying her. “And here I thought you were all about real love, Alice. No magic involved.”
She met his gaze head-on. “There’s magic in everything we do, Loki. Sometimes, you need to believe in the impossible to make it happen.”
Loki leaned closer, his voice soft but dangerously playful. “And what if that impossible thing…was me?”
Alice paused for a beat, a teasing glint in her eyes. “What if it is?”
Rumple was about to speak, but the words caught in his throat as the tension in the air thickened. A glass rattled as it slid off the desk, breaking the silence.
“You two are unbearable,” Rumple muttered, turning sharply to grab another bottle. “Just kiss already so I can go back to doing the one thing I’m actually good at like telling stories without getting interrupted by unnecessary flirting.”
Alice raised her teacup, pretending to consider the idea. “What if… I did want to kiss him?” She flashed a quick grin at Loki. “What then?”
Loki’s grin widened, and he leaned back. “I’d say it’s about damn time, darling.”
“I’m this close to quitting,” Rumple muttered, shaking his head. “But, before I do, just remember, if you two are going to keep your ridiculous flirtations up, at least do it somewhere else.”
Loki let out a dark devious laugh then turned to Rumplestiltskin and announced, “You’re just jealous, Rumple.”
Rumple’s eyes narrowed, his patience clearly wearing thin. “Not even close.” “Not even a little bit.” Rumple shot back, eyes narrowing as he took another drink.
With a flick of his fingers, Rumplestiltskin pointed directly at Loki. A puff of smoke appeared at Loki’s desk, swirling like a sudden storm. Loki’s smirk faltered for just a second, confusion flitting across his face.
Then, with a sickening plop, a large, slimy toad appeared on the desk in front of him. It let out a loud croak, staring up at Loki with beady eyes before making a sudden leap—straight into Loki's lap.
Loki jumped back with a yelp, flailing his arms in shock. “What in the Nine Realms—?!”
The toad seemed to settle in as if it were a creature that belonged there, its long, slimy legs digging into Loki’s clothing. He shot an accusing glare at Rumple, who was now leaning back smugly in his chair, arms crossed with a grin that could only be described as satisfaction.
Alice, watching the scene unfold with a gleam of amusement in her eyes, leaned in closer, her voice sweet as honey. “Oh, I’m sure it’s nothing personal... just a little reminder that not everyone enjoys your flirting, Loki.”
Loki’s face contorted in disgust as he gingerly tried to push the toad off of him, but it wasn’t budging. “Rumple! If you think this little stunt is going to stop me from...”
But Rumple wasn’t listening. He gave a lazy wave of his hand, and the toad gave another croak before hopping off Loki’s lap, back onto the desk, and vanishing with another puff of smoke.
“I think,” Rumple said, voice dripping with sarcasm, “that’s quite enough. Now, unless either of you are ready to actually get through the story without flirting, I suggest we move on.”
Alice chuckled, her eyes dancing with glee.
Loki was still wiping at his pants, as if that would somehow cleanse him of the toad’s presence. “I swear, Rumple, one day I’ll...”
“Let it go, Loki,” Alice cut in with a mischievous smirk. “You know you love the drama.”
Rumple rolled his eyes, clearly done with the theatrics for now. “Fine. I’ll spare you both this time. But if you two don’t focus, I might just have to conjure something more... sticky next time.”
Loki shot him a smirk, his usual cockiness returning. “I’m almost disappointed you didn’t go with something more dramatic, like, say, a potion. A cursed one, maybe?”
“I’ll save that for another day, Loki. One disaster at a time.”
And with that, the tension between them simmered just a little longer, as the trio tried somewhat unsuccessfully to pretend that none of this ever happened.
🖋️✨📜🖤
