#and i’m like no babe!!! gideon called him tall!!

[toughtink]

because i’m arguing with my husband about this, order of heights for main characters in gtn as i see them from short to tall:

harrow, dulcinea, camilla, gideon, naberius, palamedes, ianthe, coronabeth

canonically, harrow is shorter than gideon who is shorter than pal who is described as tall but still half a head shorter than coronabeth. corona and ianthe are technically the same height, but between general necro demeanor/poor posture and corona’s outgoing personality/hair volume, corona comes off as taller.

[auty-ren]

Salvation

Prologue

Pairings: The Mandalorian x Reader. Din Djarin x Reader. Mand’alor!Mando x Reader.

Rating: Explicit

Word Count: 3.2k

Warnings: Canon-type violence. Mentions of death/injury. Canon divergency. Yearning. Panic and similar themes. The teensiest bit of steamy stuff.

A/N: We’re just getting started babes and holy shit I'm so excited for Mand'alor!Mando. We get to see the best of both worlds! Clan Leader Mando + Dark!Mando. Enjoy💗

Salvation Masterlist | My Masterlist

There was a vice that kept hold of your being, suspended between two planes of existence as you sat helpless to watch time pass at an agonizing pace. It filled you with dread, a heavy and pulling weight that settled in your stomach and had you glued to the floor; praying that the next thrum of violence that waged outside your door would be softer.

You hoped and pleaded every second you sat cowering in your home wouldn't be in vain, that something good would come of the war that had been building in weeks prior. The violence that crept over your village somewhat overnight, an uneasiness that settled between neighbors, and had people barricading their doors with fear.

You squeezed your palms tighter over your ears at the shrill sound of gunfire piercing through the walls of your home. The ground felt alive with footfalls and the impact fire, defeating sounds muffled between layers of durasteel were all you could hear, save for a few lost words that winded aimlessly through the air.

From your window you made out a figure that streamed across the sky; their form bulky and unnatural around the faint release of a jetpack that followed behind them.

Mandalorians had been passing through your village for as long as you could remember. Quiet and brooding warriors who often demanded very little and hardly left a trace that they had ever stepped foot in your town. You felt nothing but respect, considering that all your life you had seen the kindness that had been disguised behind layers of beskar and tall-tales of savage upbringings. As a child, you remember them speaking so softly to you, something that clashed with their demeanor and the heavy blasters that often rested on their hips.

There was never trouble, any thug that had made their way into your village was soon left scrambling at the sight of your guardians. No one ever dared to speak a harsh word in their presence, and your people were left with safe and warm homes that prospered when it felt the Galaxy was falling apart.

Mandalorians had protected you all of your life. But now you wanted more than anything for them to disappear, to fade away like the final wisps of smoke from dying embers. 

You just wanted the noise to stop.

Your eyes had dried beyond the point of tears, streaks of their remnants covered your face and left your skin feeling raw and tacky as your eyes squeezed shut. You heaved a dry sob as the walls of your home shook again, tremors vibrating at the ends of your fingertips as they scraped across the floor. Your joints ache from sitting so long, from trembling in the corner of your home as the only way to seek shelter.

There is a heavy thump that breaks through the noise, something solid that lands over your head. You can hear the unmistakable sound of footfalls as they walk across your ceiling, each step like a knife that twists deeper and deeper into an already gushing wound. Your grasp for anything you can reach, the leg of the table next to you, a book that had fallen from your desk, anything to ward off whatever was making its way to your front door. You felt pathetic, sure that whoever would burst into your home in the next seconds would find joy in the way your hands shook as you held them up in front of you, your only defense.

The weight that you had been holding in your shoulders came crashing down at the sound of a masked voice coming from your door. The shadow of their legs briefly visible through the gap in the door as lights flashed behind them, gunfire ringing through the small room as they barked a message about ‘Imps’ into their commlink.

‘Imperials’ they called themselves, led by the magistrate elect to ‘relieve our town from the clutches of oppressive rulers,’ or so they put it. Suddenly your town was full of strangers, of mercenaries with nasty tendencies that left you hesitant to leave your doorstep. Your home was turned into a hellhole in a matter of weeks, warm and kind faces were replaced with snarling teeth that spit evil in your direction every time you faced them. 

‘All in the name of progress.’

Destruction was the only thing that progressed in these short months, and Moff Gideon had no trouble thriving off every ounce of sacrifice he could squeeze from your town. Gideon had used any and all authority he had to wage war on the Mandalorians, the people you considered your protectors. You and nearly half of the village knew he was crazy for doing such a thing, for provoking the wrath of a people who had carved legends of war and battle into every corner of the Galaxy. All of this suffering because he was too greedy for something that was never his.

Your limbs were heavy by the time sunlight peered over the horizon, brief wisps of warmth dancing across your eyelids as you blinked awake from where you sat.

There was nothing but silence, heavy silence that was damning after a night of constant chaos. Early morning fog still lingered, your breath puffing in front of your face as you pulled yourself to stand. Your door was ripped open before you could even think, your only thought wanting to be able to witness whatever had been left in last night's wake.

The ground was firm and solid beneath your feet, your legs shaking as you stepped off the porch of your home and for the first time in forever everything was still. There was nothing but the faint shuffle of your feet across the ground, and the muffled conversations in the homes you passed by. It seemed you weren’t the only one who was curious; familar faces grew in number, their eyes wide and interested in the wreckage just as you were, everyone you met wondered what would become next. Some of them wept, holding whoever was closest as relief washed over them. Some of them celebrated, cheers echoing through streets as they basked in the absence of Imperials in their homes.

You stood, staring down an alley where the body of an Imperial laid unmoving in the dirt, their white armor smudged, cracking, and littering the wet ground. The reality of what had been happening only a few hours prior laid heavy on your chest, curling tight around your ribs until you felt there was no way to take a breath.

Your hands were shaking as you reached for your face, covering your lip as it trembled from swelling emotion and finally breaking away from the scene before you. You backtracked, fully intent on turning to run back the way you had come when you bumped into someone; their arm came up to grab yours, steadying you as their questions fell upon deaf ears. You stared at the woman before you, the brows knit in concern as she repeated her question.

“Are you alright?”

Everything was starting to bleed together, the sounds of people emerging from their homes suddenly became far too loud, and your awareness of where you stood punching you in the gut. You winced away from the woman, pulling your arm from her grip and ignoring how she called after you. Your lungs swelled with each heaving breath you took, the ground beneath you disappearing faster and faster as you tried to find your way home. Neighboring villagers found their ways into the streets, crowding alleyways and blocking your way home. You ran into a few of them, whispered apologies falling from your lips as you fought to hold yourself upright.

You needed to take a breath. You needed to slow down.

There was no distinction between the voice in your head and the concerned words of people you passed; friends, neighbors, all people you had known for most of your life.

They just want to help and part of you doesn't understand why you don't listen to them.

The ache that tears through your skull sends waves of nausea down your spine, your eyes blinking slowly at the dirt that sat just a few inches from your face. Your breath disturbed it, puffs of clay-colored soil swirling in front of you, and some of it landing on your cheeks.

You pushed yourself up onto your elbow, your entire side sore from how hard you had hit the ground. It was slow, your limbs feeling heavy and weighed even with adrenaline buzzing underneath your skin.

There was hardly any noise now, just a few whispers that danced between the crowds; the tail ends of sentences being lost as they shush themselves. You hear the scuffle of boots hitting the ground, their gate heavy and kicking up dirt in your peripheral. The dark-colored toe of someone's boot walks into your line of sight, you watch the leather come to a stop just a few inches from where your hand pressed into the mud. You followed the boot up the length of its owner’s body until you were met with the bulky visor of a beskar helmet, embers of the morning sun peeking out from behind the silver shine. 

He offers his hand out to you, the ends of his gloves a bright orange that was weathered at the tips. The leather was worn but soft to the touch as his hand wrapped around yours, pulling you to your feet with just a little bit more force than necessary. Your hand shot out to brace yourself against his chest, your weight falling against the solid expanse of his cuirass as you huffed out a curse. Your head was still spinning as you clung to him, trying to find balance on your own two feet as you looked at the stranger. His armor looked new, bright, and unsoiled save for the dirt that smudged from where you had touched it; your eyes are drawn to the obnoxious color offset by the dark linen of his clothes. You mutter an apology, moving to separate yourself from him but find yourself trapped under the arm he used to steady you.

From the corner of your eye, you can see the other Mandos who are waiting on him. Their armors a deep matching blue with white accents on the face of their masks, they stood at attention as if they were waiting on their next command. You looked back at the man in front of you, who you assumed was their leader, your hand still laying on his chest and your faces even closer than they had been before.

His hand hesitated just a breath away from your face, his fingers twitching before he pushed strands of your hair out of your eyes, the leather of his glove tickling the shell of your ear. The knuckles of his fingers traced down your jaw, his touch light and curious as he studied you. His thumb stopped at the apex of your cheek and he drags the pad of it across the same spot of skin a few times, brushing off the dirt that had stuck to your face.

You could hardly breathe under his attention, your lungs burning from how long you waited in between small intakes of breath. His hand was still warm against your face, his other fingers flexing on the hold he kept around your waist. Every second dragged on as you looked at him, studied what little you could see from the layers he wore around his being. Oddly enough, it felt that he was doing the same to you, his gaze felt like a burn as it trailed along with your features, your chest feeling tight and your cheeks hot from how overwhelmed he made you.

And then he was gone.

His hold on you released and he turned back in the direction he had been walking, followed by the Mandos who had stopped and waited for him. They parted the crowds that had formed in the streets, their presence enough to leave anyone in standing back, awestruck just as you had been. You watched their forms disappear from your sight until finally they turned a corner, and you never saw them again.

-

It feels impossible to sleep that night.

Though it had only been a few months, the soured pit in your stomach was telling that memories of Imperials wouldn't fade so easily. There wasn't enough water to wash away the stain that their greed had left behind. Everyone seemed happy, smiling freely and feasting in celebration as the day turned to dusk, and as dusk turned to night you sat, staring at the ceiling of your home and buzzing with something you couldn't quite pin down. You studied the crack that had split that ran from one corner of your home to the next, fresh and taunting you with how you had been cowering beneath this roof only a day ago; watching the stone give way as the very foundation of your house shook. Just outside you could hear voices again; quiet, content voices that felt unfamiliar, almost out of place amongst the chaos that had been living recently.

How could it be over so quickly?

It only took a day, not even that. Your village was wiped clean, the only evidence that there had even been Imperials, were scraps that had been piled together throughout the streets. Pieces of equipment, armor, a couple of uniforms that had been discarded were all that was left of them. And most of it was being discarded without a second thought. 

You had always heard stories of what Mandalorians could be capable of, but you had never believed them.

People liked to talk, to tell stories. It was easy to believe the tales of warrior races were just constructed, exaggerations of the true history of their people. But you were wrong. You hoped that you stayed wrong, that this wasn't temporary or even worse, a dream.

With every night that passed, it became easier, sleeping without worry you would wake up in hell all over again. It came over you slowly. Ease? Relief? Tranquility long enough for you to rest a few hours, then wake up to rebuild the life that had almost been taken from you. It finally felt safe. Safe to live, safe to breathe, safe to dream again.

But then all at once, it was swept out from under you and your heart plummeted when you answered the door to find two guards standing on your front steps.

“Can I help you?”

You noticed the way he ducked his head, his helmet cock-eyed when he looked at you to keep it from knocking with the frame of your doorway. He spoke very softly, almost gentle in the way he said your name; a stark contrast to the beaten, dull blue armor he wore and the heavy blaster strapped to his back. You looked over his shoulder at the female that followed him, her back was turned to you as she scanned the street in front of your home. She wasn’t as large as he was, but her armor was just as thick and a beautiful maroon color that glinted in the sun when she turned to face you.

They both waited for you to answer, turning to look at each other when you gave them a small nod, confirming that they had found who they were looking for.

“The Mand’alor has sent us for you.” The woman spoke, her tone clipped as she took a step closer. “Please. Come with us.”

Your fingernails dug into the softwood of the door frame, your skin burning from the way it dragged across the rough terrain until you released it, balling your fist at your side. You made no other attempt at moving, and neither did they. 

There would be no point in arguing, you would never be able to outrun two Mandalorians, but it felt very tempting at that moment.

“The….Mand’alor?”

You had heard the name before, a few of the Mandalorians in town had spoken it in passing and while you had never asked them who or what it meant, it didn’t take a genius to figure it out. 

They had asked for you by name, and they were too occupied to come and find you themselves. 

You tried to wrack your brain for anything you could’ve done to cause this, of what could have upset someone to this point.

But then again, if they were upset, they probably would’ve just had you killed.

You looked behind you at the mess that was strewn across your room, crates of your belongings dumped in the tiny space and making it much smaller than it seemed. There was no telling where you were going, or how long you’d be gone but maybe you could take a few things with you.

“Can I have a minute please?”

You moved to shut the door, just wanting a little privacy to get a bag ready, but you were stopped when the female guard’s arm shot out, holding the frame still just a few inches before it would’ve closed.

“You don't need to take anything.” She huffed and pushed the door back open, stepping through the threshold to stand directly in front of you. “Come with us.”

You couldn't think of anything to say, not that she wanted a response from you, you just stood there staring at the two Mandalorians who crowded your doorway. She practically snarled an order at you, becoming increasingly impatient with how unresponsive you were.

“Now.”

-

Sometime later

“I-... I don't understand.”

He had you pinned, backed into a wall that you wished would open up and swallow you whole. Your face burned with shame but you couldn't figure out from what. From him? From how close he stood to you? From how every word that dripped from his lips was sweet? Like thick, sugary honey that became far more addictive than any spice you ever heard of; and you were glutenous in wanting more of those delicious words that he seemed so confident saying.

Shamefully so.

“Don't worry about such things.”

His thumb ran delicately over the bottom of your lip, tracing down until he held your chin in between it and his forefinger. He tipped your face to look up at him, his knuckles brushing across your throat as his hand fell to your chest. His fingers splayed across your exposed skin, his gloves are warm and soft as they made their way back up and finally wrapped around your neck.

“You're here now.”

Your breath hitched as his fingers flexed, his grip almost ghosting, as if he was afraid you'd break under any pressure.

You wished you could see his face, the blank stare of his visor did not indicate what he was thinking; though you imagined he was enjoying this from the way he touched you. He was like molten that left your skin burning in its wake, your heart fluttering as he moved over every inch that was shown to him. He held your jaw in the palm of his hand, his helmet coming only a hairbreadth away from your face; your breath puffing clouds of condensation on the smooth surface.

“You're mine.”

-

A/n pt2: I’ll give a sticker to whoever can guess who the female guard Mando was lol

Taglists

Salvation

@all-hallows-evie @sultrygoblin @amanda-loriannn @assaultsofthought @discofern @forever-graphically-frozen @phoenixhalliwell @sweetdarlingrose @haley7242 @dancingwiththeplanets @slep-slop @geannad @equalstrashflavoredtrash @javihoney @farrvey @winchesterxxi @imalovernotahater @clydesducktape @thisgirlcanstrut @ollovaemisc @roadakamelot @forgottenswan @barbaralaplume @imasimpforanyoneisee26 @autumnleaves1991-blog @djarinslover @chickens-r-great @spicys-stuff @dazedcowboi @driftllocked @godiscoming-areyouready @fantasticcopeaglepasta @kesskirata @nuttybeardetective

Mando

@basilbumble @wxrmh0le @jango-fettish @gallowsjoker @groovinomicon @driftllocked @courageinthemidst @hayley-the-comet @victias @freyjasamael @gondowan​ @nicki-mac-me​ @mudhornchronicles​

Permanent

@on-the-razor-crest​ @readsalot73​ @roxypeanut​ @talesfromtheguild​ @vintage-silk​ @ben-is-a-hoe​ @dartheldur​ @b0n-chann​ @dindisneydjarin​ @tangledlove27​ @blueplaidhood​ @lackofhonor​ @holamor​ @ajediherowitchrunner​ @mandhoelorian​ @random-fandom-lady​ @aeryntheofficial​ @stubbychaos​ @promiscuoussatan​ @lark-cale @lilkermit14​ @leather-mommy @zombiexbody​ @absurdthirst​ @nerd-without-a-cause​ @xjaywritesx​ @sappy-stars​ @drownedbytears​ @mrsparknuts​ @gallowsjoker​ @animechan6616354 @paintballkid711 @pedroepascal @dadolorian​ @roxu-radio @lv7867 @theocatkov @xjaywritesx @nelba @persephonehemingway @justanotherblonde23 @emzd34 @stardust-galaxies @misofirebird @roguereds @dee-rosemary @keithseabrook27 @badassbaker @rosiefridayrogersunday @engie115 @satans-tongues @tulipsun-flower @idiotonastar @hayley-the-comet

[clementineviolet]

Here is my liveblogging from season 4, episode 3. Notice how it is all capslock at the end

MAJOR SPOILERS UNDERNEATH. MAJOR. SPOILERS. 

Bro Minnie is SO TALL

MINNIE TAPING UP TENNS BOOTS

Minnie is JEALOUS and ANGRY

Minnie is SO TALL

VIOLET IS DEFENDING US AGAINST MINNIE!!!!! TAKE THAT LOUD CLOUIS STANS!!!

Damn Minnie is on the dark side

Sophie is DEAD “a hero” gurl what

Minnie didn’t rat us out thank god

Vi defended Clem so god is real

MINNIE COME BAAACK

Violet we need to talk about that

AJ did the YOU KNOW I HAD TO DO IT TO EM POSE

Keep forgetting AJ got SHOT

AWWW TENN IS AJ’S FIRST REAL FRIEND I CRY “YOU DONT COUNT YOURE OLD”

JAMES NO BB WHY YOU HURT

AJ if you tell him that i wanna flip him i’ll kill you

I Love You James and I Trust You

I keep calling James “baby” he’s my platonic babe

James really collects walkers like regulars people collect rocks

James I....girl I’m gonna go along with what you say but this is interesting

I don’t wanna see it that way because I fuckin shot Lee so he wouldn’t turn

Yeah James that shit hurted but it’s ok baby

I don’t wanna say that James fucks walkers but (IM JOKING) (but am i really)

AJ shush we’re going along with him

“I’ll ALWAYS PROTECT YOU” BB AJ PLSSS

I love AJ he’s so cute

This is terrifying

Omfg the mask and the breathing i dislike

I love when they do first person camera it’s so much scarier

This is the creepiest shit i’ve seen on TWDG i don’t even know what to say

The music!! beautiful

What in the hell is going on do they LISTEN TO MUSIC THIS IS THE MOST TERRIFYING THING INDONT

WHAT

UHHHH

What’s funny is that this reminds me of the PAX footage where a zombie shoots Clem the middle finger do y’all remember that

I’m really not sure actually that shit was crazy BUT I KILLED LEE I DONT WANNA BELIEVE THAT

AJ stop hitting him with these personal questions

That was a crazy ass scene

James is Definitely one of the most unique characters in TWD franchise

RUBYYYYYY

HOOTENANNY

YOOOO ITS TIME FOR A PARTYYYYYY BRO CAN I DANCE WITH VIOLET PLs

Oh no we’re placing collectibles already not good

AJ this is the creepiest monologue

AJ baby you’re a good person

HEY AJ NO FORESHADOWING CLEM GETTING BIT SHUSH

TICKLES FOR MY BOY

Nevermind he wanna be serious

“IF I GET BIT YOU’LL...”

I’m torn because now it’s like... do i wanna put AJ through that like I did Clem? what if there is a bit of Clem in there? aughhhhh

NO AJ NO WHAT??? IM NOT BITING YOU NO

Fuck

If there’s an ending where AJ and Clem are walkers together... i’m fucking suing 

I don’t know what to do with AJ

VIOLET!!!!!!

YES LETS TALK

VIOLET IS ALWAYS ON OUR SIDE

We can save her don’t worry bout it

Violet ;____;

“I WONT LET HER TAKE YOU OR AJ OR ANYONE ELSE I CARE ABOUT”

Omg Violet talking about how much she cares for Louis i cry

Oh my god finally confirmation that Vi is like 1 cm taller than Clem if she stands up straight

We’ll GET THOSE BOYS

SHE MADE US A BUTTON IM SCREAMING THE HEADCNAONNFJDJSJDNNSBJDJDJSJJSJSJJDJDHJSHD

A STARS BUTTON OH MY GOD THIS IS SO GAY I SCREAM

VIOLET

WE AFE GONNA

WERE GONNA

WERENFNDNJZHDJD

DANCE!!!!!!!!!!! AHSHJSJZJDJDKDKJDKDKD

OH YM GOD

SO MANT HEADCANONS

COMING TRUE

THIS IS TRUE WLW CULTURE

TAKE HER HAND BITCH

OH MY FOD

OH MY GODJDJJDJSJDKDKDJDJDKJDKSKDKD

THE AMOUNT OF GIFS

I am

paaainf our

this is amazing

i scream

i love

my short girls who dance and exchange gay gifts

THE HUG BRUH I CANT

BRUV

KISS

KISS

KISS

violet doing the gay arm thing

AJ REALLY RUINED THE MOMENT FJDJDKDNDKKD

That scene made 20biteen

When can we tell AJ pls

Y’all know i’m boutta hit AJ with that

This is the cutest shit of all time

HUG HUG HUG BABY

So many hugs I’m dead

Let’s go have this damn hootenanny

VIOLET TEACHING AJ I SCREAM

We doin jazz baby

How has it already been like an hour and a half

Jesus Willg i don’t think we should do that but uhhh just make sure we don’t fuckin die

I swear to God willy if you get us killed

I’m ready for the most turnt party of all

time

ITS OK WILLY YOURE PROBABLY GONNA DIE BUT

YES AJ WITH THEM MOOOVES YES BITCH

ROSIESEEEE

TENN AND WILLY I CRY

Tenn i love you bb

Fuck You Raiders

Yeah we naming it

WILLY JR

That gay smile Clem shared with Vi i can’t

OMG YES LETS LEARN WHY THEHRE IN HERE

The amount of gay smiles

OMG RUBY I LOVE I THOUGHT THAT WAS MARLON

“THAT LITTLE MORHERFUCKER”

Of course that’s why Willy was sent here this little meme boy

I HAVW TO GIF THAT

No AJ no

TENN REALLY TOLD HIM FJDJSKJD

EVERHONES FACES I SCREAM

This turned emo can we go back to having fun and listening to country

34 DEAD KIDS JESUS

Louis i’m so sorry

No we gotta hear Violet

Only if you wanna love

Her dad was a drunk and her mom

worked 3 jobs, grandma shut down after grandpa died, this is emo, oh fuck this is turning dark, oh no violet that sucks so

much

Violet you were TRAUMATIZED

OH FUCK

11 YEARS OLD

I’m so sorry Violet i can’t

Do you wanna hear some of my baggage

That was such an amazing scene jesus, props to Gideon

OMG VIOLET HAS A PRETTY VOICE I SCREAAAAAAM

GAY SMILE

WOW DAMN THAT VOICE VIOLET!!!! GIRL OF MANY TALENTS

minnie and vi singing together that’s it

When. will we tell the group we together

AJ LETS CUDDLE BABY

tenn and willy i cry

thank you so much for that violet i’m

crying so beautiful

jesus we’re so damn emo

DREAM FUCK NOT READY

IM

NOT

EMKTIONALLY

OREPARED

oh my god the graphics look

amazing i’m

shook

she ALWAYS PICKS THE TRAIN

LEE BE MY MUFASA

“YOU KNOW I WAS MAKING IT ALL UP AS I WENT ALONG RIGHT” TRU THATS HOW I PLAYED HIM

Lee can you give me girl advice

YAAAAS LETS SAVE LOUIS

THE RANCH

A GIRL WHO LOVES YOU

GAY!!!! RIGHTS!!!!!

AJ is a small bb boy he loves to shoot ppl

Lee would be so fucking proud

HUG HUG HUG HUG HUG

OK YOU DIDNT HAVE TO DO THAT CLEM THRNJGINTO HER S4 SELF TO ME BRCH BYE

SHES SO MUCH TALLER NOW JESUS WOW SHE WENT FROM HALFWAY UP HIS CHEST TO HIS SHOULDER

Scissors be hard Lee

Bye Lee immcrying

HEY JAMES!!!!

JAMES IS SO SHY

TENN SHUT UP I CANNOT DO NOT SAY THAT

20!!!GAY!!!TEEN!!!

Oh no Vi is gonna tell Tenn about Minnie and Sophie huh

I’m worried about AJ too fuck

Tenn bb i’m so sorry

Of course I’ll tell her Tenn

Violet don’t save me I’ll be fine probably

hopefully

KISS

GAY LOOK OF LOVE

“GO LOOK IN ANOTHER DIRECTION” KDKDJDJJDKDKD AJ PLEASE IM TRYNA HAVE A MOMENT

This is not gonna go well. This episode has been too good

Oh no Clem has a bow not gonna be good for me later on

This is very creative gameplay

I’m failing so hard

OH GOD LUKE FLASHBACKS

I feel like i’m gonna throw up in so nervous

MINNIES CONCERN FOR TENN I CRY

TENN FORGIVES YOU

ooh girl the emotions

THANK YOU MINNIE

WHERE IS LOUIS

OH NO LOUIS WHAT HAPPENED

I’m sorry Louis GODDAMMIT

MINNIE FOR FUCKS SAKE

Oh for fucks sake

HUG!!!! IM SO SORRY LOUIS

Jesus christ man

THEY FUCKING CUT OUT HIS TONGUE??? WHAT THE FUCK

WHt THE

FUCK

WHY

MO

NOOOOOOOOOOO

this is the worst possible thing we’ll help you louis it’s ok

let the others GO GODSAMMIT YOU EVIL FUCKING BITCH

Larry was an abusive fucking asshole Lilly

Lilly what are you gonna fucking do is she gonna make me choose who to hurt or kill what the fuck what the fuck

Oh god is this about Sophie and Minnie what the fuck

This is amazing acting by Lilly’s VA

Sounds like slavery but ok

Oh my god MINNIE KILLED SOPHIE WHAT THE FUCK

I KNEW IT FUCK FUCK FUCK

WHAT IN THE FUUUUUUCK

VIOLET SHHHHHH

NO NO NO NO NO NO

DONT YOU FUCKING TOUCH HER

OH MY GOD

AJ IM SORRY BUT HOLY SHIT

A WHOLE ASS EAR

YOURE RIGHT AJ!!!! WE’RE GONNA KILL HER

OK AJ WAIT HOLD ON IM ANGRH BUT I REALIZS FHIS IS TOO MUCH ANGER AND HLOODLUST

LEAVE HIM THE FUCK ALONE

NO NO NO NO

WHERE ARE YOU TAKING HIM

AT LEAST VIOLET HAS A HAND

MINNIE YOU FUCKING BITCH

MINNIE PLEASE IM TRYING TO REDEEM YOU SORRY GIRL

TOO CLOSS TO MY THROAT THANK YOU

OH FUCK VIOLET THANKS FOR THE SAVE WE ARE FONNA NEED SO MUCH THERAPY

RIP MINERVA???

VIOLET WHAT NO COME WITH ME

BYE AASIM THANK YOU SIR

If Violet gets caught in the explosion i am ducking suing for emotional and punitive damages

NO NO NO TENN NO

JAMES FUUUUUUCK NO

SAVE JAMES SAVE JAMES

“YOU DONT FUCKINF SCARE ME” YES JAMES

YES JAMES!! HIT HER WITH THAT CARLEY WISDOM

TENN OH FUCK

FUUUUUCK

SHOOT HER TENN

FUUUUCK

YES AJ BITE THAG BITCH

AJ GO FOR THE CHESTTTTTT

OH SHIT AJ

LILLY DONT YOU DARE MANIPULATE MY BOY

ohhhhh fuck this is a DIFFICULT DECISION

THIS IS TOO MUCH

BYE LILLY SHOOT AJ

THE BOMB

[inkedwolf-archive]

Fallen

The following is a compilation of roleplay scenes and canon that Mac has experienced the past few days. Bits and pieces to a much bigger story with several other characters. This is but her part in all the madness. 

Wednesday, Just After Sundown

With a grin that matched her own, he turned about and spread his arms wide, an arm's length short on either end of touching the walls.

”Home.”

It was not a question. He merely stood there, welcoming her into a hug.

Home.

As the words left his lips, that low rumbling sound that was his voice called to her. Her gaze had turned from the copper tub, and although her devotion to bathtubs was a well-known secret, in that very moment, she had eyes only for him. Pale hazel eyes sought out his as she walked over to him, slowly closing the distance, stopping only when her hand could brush against his leather-clad chest.

Even through his garb, she could feel the heat radiating off of him, beckoning her closer. It was addictive and in the cool climbs of Kul’Tiras where the wind was often salty and bitter with cold. Like a warm blanket, she wanted to be wrapped in him, to lose herself to his embrace.

She was tall for a woman, long and lithe, yet he still towered over her. With the distance between them but a memory, she slipped her arms around his waist and pulled herself close, burying her face against his chest, letting his warmth envelop her. Her nails raked against his leather vest, dragging across the smooth surface.

Another barrier.

Gods, they both had so many. Clothes were among the simplest to remove, the rest wouldn’t be so easy. Mac, herself, had spent lifetimes hidden behind walls of her own making, caging herself in with her past, her loss, and her sorrows.

Tryn was among the first to see Mac for more than just the mask she wore before the masses.

He still didn’t know all of her. Just as she didn’t know all of him.

The good, the bad, the ugly…. There was still so much to learn about one another. The thought terrified her. Letting someone in. Letting him see just how broken she truly was. She was terrified to look up and see pity in his eyes. Disgust, hatred, anger-- All those she had spent a lifetime becoming numb to. The one thing that still cut deep, however, was pity.

She didn’t want to be pitied. Not by him or anyone else. She didn’t want him to find just how shattered she truly was and to start treating her like some sad and broken thing. She feared what was to come, what she would share, what he would think of her… Yet, there was a quiet peace in the back of her mind.

Acceptance.

She had spent so long hiding who she truly was that for the first time, there was someone before her who wouldn’t push to know her past. He was there, waiting, smiling with open arms, waiting for her to be ready to share a part of herself. He was like that in all things. He never pushed, he simply waited for her to be ready.

She wasn’t sure if she was, but she was damn well ready to try. If only she could find the right words.

Tilting her head back, she smiled up at him and rose up to her toes, only to suddenly hear buzzing and static-filled voices shouting from her hip. How she loathed that device. Turning up the volume, she heard others screaming over the radio waves.

Termina was being attacked. A call to arms sounded.

One look said it all, those pale hazel eyes of hers finding his balefire gaze. They had only just arrived in their new home but it was time to go. Time to fight.

Hours Later, Closer to Midnight

Mac returned. Not to the place she now called home, but to her old house hidden away in the mountains. The evening had been a blur. The battle had left her numb. The aftermath even more so.

Death. She had touched death.

The memory made her stomach turn and before she could stop herself, she was on all fours dry heaving into the thick grass. She had lost all the contents of her stomach earlier after she healed him. No.

That wasn’t him. Not anymore. She healed a corpse. Dead flesh that needed to be knit back together.

Someone like her should never heal the dead. She was no flesh shaper. No death knight. Her gifts were about life and creation. What she had done had violated the very laws of nature. You cannot heal the dead. Yet she did. She did and she could feel it like some vile toxin pumping through her veins. She did it because it was him. 

Was.

Cries from the house pulled her attention from her dark thoughts.

The girls.

She had all but stolen them. Scooped them up amidst the battle and ran the moment their mother fled to their father’s side. She had heard the scream of anguish. She hadn’t seen it, but as she heard that scream, she knew without a doubt that he had fallen.

She felt her own bond to him break. Nothing like the Wolf Mother’s. No. This was nothing at all like that. This was her life duty bound to his. A promise, nothing more. Deep and bound in blood, but still no more than a promise.

Broken or not, in that moment, she fulfilled her oath. Protect his children.

She had scooped them up and fled, taking them to her house in the mountains that no one knew of save for Tryn and Gideon himself. Now only Tryn. The dead took secrets with them to the grave.

She heard a voice singing to soothe the girls. Her cousin. She had stolen the woman in a moment of dire need. She had to heal, yet she couldn’t leave the children alone. A hasty hearth to Boralus and back, yanking the woman from her office and warding her home so that she couldn’t leave magically or otherwise until Mac returned.

She had threatened the woman’s life. Her own flesh and blood and she had threatened her. Protect them with your life or die. She had barely gotten the words out before unknown magic pulled her from her home. Time and space blurred and she had been in Termina again… Until now. 

Now she was home and terrified to step through that door. How could she face those two girls who hadn’t even seen their first year? How could she hold it together, knowing their father was dead?

A voice whispered in the depths of her mind. The Bitch, the wolf within her. 

”Mourn him when they return him to the earth. Until then, he’s not dead.”

Mac shook her head. She was right. They had her heal his fresh corpse. They wouldn’t have done that if they didn’t plan for him to be pulled back from the beyond. She wouldn’t mourn him.

Mourning would happen only when the funeral pyre was lit. 

The Next Day

She had pulled the mattress from the guest room to the living room, her cousin helping her before she was sent back home. Mac wanted the girls close, so the moment the bed was in place, she let them curl up together and drift off to the sound her Mac humming a gentle Gilnean lullaby. The moment they were asleep, Mac curled up next to Tryndan on the floor. He had been the one to pull her back to Termina. Her cousin said as soon as Mac had vanished, Tryndan had appeared and passed out on the floor.

Mac didn’t risk moving him. Instead, she kept them all close. The girls on the mattress and Mac in his arms. Her home was an indoor garden. The moment her lullaby faded, the sounds of nature sang to them all as they dreamt.

It was in the hours just after dawn that Mac heard the cooing of two very awake girls. Peeking open an eye, she saw them sitting on the mattress playing peek-a-boo with one another. She couldn’t help but smile as she propped herself up and watched them.

They didn’t know their whole world was different now.

Moving slowly, Mac inched away from Tryn and rested on the edge of the mattress, joining the game with the two girls. She used the corner of the blanket to hide her face and then when she felt those chubby hands tug, she popped up with a silly face, time and time again, filling her house full of the sound of tiny giggles.

As happened with most games and young children, eventually they tired and found something new to play with. This time it just happened to be the large sleeping worgen on the floor. Mac watched as they crawled over and turned Tryn into a furry jungle gym. He was sleeping, yet he didn’t want him to wake up suddenly so she leaned down and whispered in his ear.

“I’m going to make breakfast. Be mindful of the pups.”

Even though she hadn’t called the place home in some time, somehow the pantry and icebox were still packed with fresh foods. Either she had visited here and there to clean and restock, or there was some other magic at play.  Her raven locks were a wild mane that was tangled and in disarray. Still, a simple leather band and she had her long locks pulled back and out of her face, letting it all rest atop her head in a messy bun.

Scents began to fill the air. Sweet at first, fruits and honey. Then there was the earthy scent of porridge. Luckily, for Tryn, Mac wasn’t about to force her eating habits on him. As he was stuck on the floor, drooling beneath two babes, Mac let a large steak dance across the pan before she set it on a plate to rest. She didn’t cook it. Not really. Simply seasoned and gave the piece of meat a nice sear before she set it on the plate to bleed its delicious juices all over the plate.

Eggs were next. Mac wasn’t one to skimp on breakfast and she hummed while she cooked. This time it wasn’t a lullaby but a soft tune that had a happy melody. So much had been lost the night before, yet Mac held herself together and hummed as she cooked for Tryn and the girls.

She didn’t take long. In fact, before he was in a lake of his own drool, Mac came over and gently moved the girls, one at a time, back to the mattress to free Tryn from his adorable prison. As she moved them, she brought the blankets up around them, tucking them in together so they could share each other’s warmth.

She sat there for several moments, just watching the girls doze quietly as she knelt on the edge of the mattress. It wasn’t until she pulled her gaze away and looked up at Tryn that he could finally see the hidden sorrow in the depths of her eyes. She had been doing her damnedest to hide it.

She didn’t think she could hide it from him, he always saw through her masks. There was a small smile that curled in the corners of her lips. Not one of happiness, mind you. Just a small private smile that begged him to be patient with her. She was holding herself together, but just barely. Surely he would see that.

As she rose up and away from the girls, her voice was quiet again. “Come and eat, love. I made you steak and eggs. The girls have some milk porridge cooling for when they wake. We’ll let them rest for now.” 

During Breakfast

The quiet meal had turned into something so much more. While Mac thought she would hide behind the much needed satisfaction of a good meal, instead, breakfast was almost all but ignored as Tryn peered into her very soul with those balefire eyes. He watched her as she put on her mask, hiding behind it, and clutching it tightly like her only lifeline.

He watched her, and yet he couldn’t let her suffer alone.

His questions felt like a sharp knife, cutting away her protection. Making her face the horrors and pain that her mind was trying so desperately cast away and let sink into the dark depths of her memory. She realized only as she started to answer him that those thoughts were an anchor, weighing her down, pulling her into the darkness with it and he wasn’t cutting away her protection.

He was saving her from being pulled under.

Words flowed from her, they weren’t easy to say, nor to hear spoken aloud. Yet she confessed her dark thoughts one by one. The perversion of her power, how she had gone against her very beliefs. The loss she felt. The blood bond that was broken. One by one, she laid them out for him and as the last confession left her lips, she didn’t see pity or disgust waiting for her.

She saw only him, holding his arms out, waiting to comfort her. She didn’t hesitate as she closed the distance between them. The walked forward and fell into his arms, wrapping her arms around him and holding him tight.

Far Too Soon

She had only just lost herself in Tryn’s comforting embrace when her com came to life. Mac listened to the chatter as it came over her radio. She couldn’t believe what she was hearing. Not only were they parading people through a safe house, they were demanding the children to join the circus act. What in the hell were they thinking? She pulled away from Tryn gently, but the moment she was free, there was no longer despair. There was fury.

Mac had grabbed her com and dialed in Blackstone’s private frequency. "A word." She said tersely.

"Aye." He answered after a moment.

Mac wasn’t one to sugarcoat, least of all in this. The moment he answered, she cut to the chase. "Every single person who was seen yesterday is a potential leak, intentionally or unintentionally. You're going to lead them right to the Wolf Mother. The more people that know where she is, the more at risk she is."

"I know.” He replied. “ I have a plan for it if it does happen, I promise. Please just trust me. She requested I tell them she's takin' visitors. I'll be there the whole time. I will not let her be hurt, or anyone else in this company."

Men. By the gods, how stupid they were. Tension sounded in her voice. "Oh, you think you'll be able to protect them? One man, against how many?"

"Mac. Trust me. She told me to do this."

She didn’t trust any of them. Not now. None of them were thinking clearly. "She isn't in her right mind and you know it. And you want me to put children at risk?"

"She wants her kids. Don't fight her on it. Will you just -trust- me. If you want her to stay in bed, lean with her a bit, yeah?"

Mac didn’t answer. She was beyond furious. How could they all be so blind? So stupid. She wanted to throw her com. To leave it deep in the forest and run with those two girls and Tryn. Letting them join their mother when her location was becoming the worst kept secret in Azeroth put a pit in her stomach that made her nauseous. The coms kept going off. The company line. People discussing the children.

No one would listen. No one. All they wanted was to keep the Wolf Mother happy.

Mac didn’t care about her happiness. She could care less if the Wolf Mother was miserable.

She wanted her safe. Moreso, she wanted the girls safe. She wanted the unborn babe safe. The Wolf Mother, she could take or leave. It was the children Mac cared about.

Right now, they needed their mother to remain alive. No one would listen. It would be like fish in a barrel if their enemy caught wind of their location. She barely heard the words over the com when she realized someone was being sent her way to retrieve the girls.

She was cornered, backed against the wall. What choice did she have? Kill someone following stupid orders? Run with the girls? Her mind reeled with the possibilities. She would do it. She would kill for them. She had no doubt about that. Her mind went to what would happen if she stole those girls to safety. The wolf mother wouldn’t rest. She would push herself to the ends of the earth to get those girls back. She would kill the babe inside of her to hunt Mac down.

She could keep the girls safe from a potential and likely risk… but if she did, she would be killing the unborn babe still growing in the wolf mother’s womb. That wasn’t a possibility. It was a certainty. She closed her eyes to keep the tears from spilling down her cheeks.

She had to let them go.

Mac slammed her fists on the counter as her eyes flashed that brilliant amber color. Reckless fools. She looked up at Tryn, that quiet wrath bubbling beneath the surface. Pursing her lips as she shook her head, she said nothing to him. Nothing needed to be said. He had heard every last word.

Pushing off the counter, she growled under her breath as she walked over slowly to collect the girls. How she wish people would listen to reason. Instead, they knew only madness.

Soon After

Mac waited quietly outside of her house that looked like it was being consumed by the forest around it. Everything was in bloom and the lush surroundings were a veritable paradise. She was no more than twenty feet from her front door, which was open, revealing the fact that much like outside, the inside of the glass house was wild and covered in beautiful growths, bringing the wild indoors.

Mac looked exhausted, her skin paler than usual and dark circles were heavy under her pale hazel eyes. The expression she wore on her face was one of complete and utter numbness. She didn't want to feel, not in this, especially not now. While she had put on a cheerful face for the girls as she tended to them, playing with them as the hours of the day ticked away, keeping them safe and happy, that time was now over. She had two choices. Hand the children over to their mother’s pawns, knowing full well the dangers of bringing them out of hiding. Or run.

She couldn’t run. Not without risking the life of an unborn babe and countless others. So, she stood there waiting for Syana's mother, the girls wrapped up warmly, one tucked in the crook of each arm. She stood there like a sentry, simply waiting for it all to be over.

The wait wasn’t long for the woman who had come to claim them. Mac felt her presence moments before she appeared a few feet in front of her, carried to Mac’s hidden refuse by the hearthstone she had entrusted to Syana. She barely heard the woman as she thanked Mac for keeping the girls safe, feeling her take one, then the other from the crook of her arms.

It wasn’t until that weight was lifted that Mac spoke, in no more than an angry whisper.

"She is in a safe house that you are parading the entire damn company to. Every person who sees where she is a potential risk. You might as well put a bloody target on her. And now... This? NO ONE knows of this place. No one. It is safe and you are putting these children at risk."

Mac clenched her jaw. She wanted to scream but she wouldn't in front of the babes. "She is not in her right mind and you know it. And your daughter? Her husband? They're too devoted to see that right now Daria doesn't need people who will follow her orders. She needs someone to defy her and keep her safe. Keep her children safe. What happened yesterday.... will happen again.. and again... because everyone in this blasted company is to blind and too stupid to use common sense."

She took a step forward, lowering her voice even more. "Send Keantha to Pinky's Groggery. She's getting a crash course in how to be a midwife." Mac swallowed hard and exhaled a controlled breath and she unclipped her com from her belt and tucked it next to one of the girls. "Your son in law knows where to find me if there is no one else in an emergency."

And with that, Mac turned and walked away.

Seconds Later

How much longer could she hold it together? She didn’t truly know. She felt it all welling up inside of her like a great storm. One after the next, storms collided until there was only the tempest raging inside of her. She had left the woman with the girls, not even risking a glance back. Instead, she surged into her house and without a word, wrapped her arms around Tryndan moments before the Stone to The Hound’s Tooth activated.

The world titled as they were pulled from one place to the next and as she pulled away she quickly moved to an empty bloodstained table to collect herself. She refused to cry. Refused to let him know how broken she felt. She refused… and yet she splintered before him, cracks showing in that coveted mask of hers. She tried to hide, but the more she hit, the more clear it was that she was falling apart.

How much more?

With eyes closed as she breathed in deeply and forced herself to exhale, she tried to quiet her mind. It wouldn’t be silenced. She couldn’t it run from it forever. Luckily, a wet nose, a heavy nudge, and a quiet whine pulled her from the chaos.

Distractions would only prolong the inevitable, yet this distraction was one she couldn’t ignore.

Max. The large wrinkle-faced mastiff stared up at her. He had been forgotten in the chaos. Left behind in the ruins to fend for himself. His master slain, his home destroyed, his family in the winds and lost in grief.

Mac knelt down and parts of her mask chipped away. As she pet him, offering him some small comfort in all that he had lost, Mac looked up at Tryn, her bright hazel eyes brimming with tears as her lower lip trembled.

Grief was a strange thing sometimes. While Mac had little in common with the large wrinkly faced creature, in that moment she felt as he did. Alone. Abandoned by most everyone.

As she stared up pitifully at Tryn, her voice cracked as she spoke, sounding hoarse with sorrow. “Will you take him home? We can’t leave him here…”

Finally Over

She had pulled herself together just enough to pass off information to Keantha, telling the healer all that she needed to know and how to find her if there was an emergency. She thought it was over, but the worst had yet to come.

Mac was hidden behind her mask as Kari walked up to that lavish fire pit. Words cut through Mac like a knife.

Selfish.

Coward.

If she only knew. If only one of them would listen, really listen to her. Mac hid behind her mask, taking every cut. She didn't want to fight. Not over this. Not with Kari. Not with Sal who stood quietly behind her.

She didn't want to fight, yet she wanted her sister to understand. Why did none of them understand?

In the end, she did the only thing she could. She hugged Kari and walked away.

She tried to get them to hear her. To listen. They were all too lost and Mac....

She just wanted to go home. 

@theruneslayer @bastard-blackstone @fires-of-blackstone @karicharbonneau @salvador-nightbane @keantha @gideonbelmont 

[therumbellehappyendingaward-blog]

Chapter 2 writer; @thecompletebookworm

PROMPT: TIME

AO3: HERE

A/N: I actually haven't watched the show since somewhere in Season 4.  I've attempted to get up to date with the Gideon/ Season 6 things, but it is after all, only a week when I have a job that's driving me crazy.  I apologize if I messed up something crucial, but I guess we're already in AU zone since Gideon was successfully saved and we have this potential angst with a side of fluff and babies, so what's a little more AU. Basically what I'm saying is when I'm wrong about something in canon, please don't hate me.   

Trigger Warning:  Description of Panic Attack (To avoid skip part after “Whatever it is we can fix it” to section break.)  

The walk from the library to the pawnshop had never felt longer.   Even in her worry, Belle couldn't help but smile at the Gold and Son sign.  It may have come from the Black Fairy's curse, but there was still something touching about the names together on the sign, her boys working together.  

She pushed the door open trying to force a smile on her face.  

"Mother!"  Her son was the first one forward, his head darting up from his work as soon as the bell on the front door chimed.  "Mother! I thought we weren't going to see you until lunch.  Is something wrong?"  

Gideon rushed over, hands already ready to support her if necessary but waiting until she gave her permission.  Gideon craved physical contact but was seldom willing to ask for it.  It was a reflex that she and Rumple were still working on, but it would take a lot more than freely given hugs and kisses to get over twenty eight years of neglect and abuse.    

"I'm fine."  The words felt small and untrue, but she pulled her sons arms around her anyway, allowing herself to lean back into his tall frame.  She felt him relax and it gave her courage. Gideon didn't hate her.  Not yet at least.  Things with this baby would be fine.  They would just take time.  

Time she wasn't sure she had if she was honest with herself.  She saw the worry in Rumplestiltskin's eyes, even if he tried to hide it. Belle wasn't sure if knowing the truth would actually help his worry, or if the addition of a fourth family member would send him over the edge.  

Still she knew she couldn't keep the news a secret for long.   It had been four hours at most since she found out about the baby and already she wasn't acting like herself.  She had practically fled the library, leaving it unmanned and unlocked.  It had been practically a miracle she'd remembered to grab a coat, but she supposed that was in part because keeping herself healthy had never seemed more important.    

"Is it so wrong for me to miss my family in the middle of the day?"  She gave Gideon a kiss on the cheek.  

While she knew the baby couldn’t be a secret for long, seeing their faces made her realize she couldn't do this right now. She just needed a few moments, a little more time to center herself, to let herself get used to the idea of a baby.

It wasn't that the child wasn't wanted.   Gods no.  She already loved this baby with every ounce of her being.  It was just unexpected and with life in Storybrooke already so up in the air it felt like too much to handle, more than she felt she could handle.  

She hadn't realized she had started to cry before she felt her husband's hand wiping away the tears.  

"Sweetheart, Everything is going to be okay.  Whatever it is we can fix this."  

Somehow that only made her cry harder.  She couldn't even look at either of them anymore.   Her entire body felt like it was out of her control now.  She was shaking and she couldn’t breathe.  Was

"Gideon help me get her to the cot in back"

Belle could hear them moving her, could feel her son’s hands around her, but she didn't feel like she was present any more.  It was like they were doing it to someone else someone who didn't have earthshattering news for their family.  

A million questions ran through her head as she tried to focus on actually getting some air.   Maybe her inability to breathe wasn't coming from anxiety and something was actually was wrong with her.  Was this the unspoken cost of the magic necessary to speed things along? Was her body betraying the baby right now? Hurting them instead of providing of safe shelter?

The questions racing through her head at a million miles a minute were only silenced by everything slowly fading to back.  

She felt the hand first.  A steady rhythm going through her hair, somehow anchoring her. Next she felt her head lying in the lap of her husband.  

"Sweetheart?"  His voice was so unsure; his eyes brimming with unshed tears.  

Belle forced herself into a sitting position and tried to look around. "Where's Gideon?"  

Gentle hands pulled her back down onto his lap, before resuming their slow dance through her hair.   "He's fine.   I sent him to get Doctor Whale."  

"No!"  The word escaped her before she realized she said it.  

Rumplestiltskin looked affronted.  "Belle, we're worried.  We're both terrified something is wrong.  You haven't been yourself lately.  You’re tired all the time and your stomach isn’t even tempted by Granny’s hamburgers.  You need to let us help you."  

When said like that, any hope of keeping the pregnancy to herself or just between Rumplestiltskin and her died.  

"I'm scared." The words were barely audible in the quiet shop.  

The hand paused in her hair.    “Belle, even after all this time, you are the bravest, most remarkable person I know.  It’s okay to be scared, but you have to face the problem.  You taught me that.”  

His eyes were so earnest and pleading.  They had agreed on no more secrets and she couldn’t resist anymore.  

“I’m pregnant.”

She studied his face as the emotions flooded across it. His worry changed to confusion and then to love and wonder.  

Rumplestiltskin placed a hand against her still flat stomach, as if he could feel the babe growing in it already.   Then he leaned forward to capture her lips in a kiss that was practically reverent.  

“That’s wonderful.  But how?”   He bashfully avoided meeting her eyes.  Obviously he knew how.  He’d always been an enthusiastic participant.  But she knew what he meant.   They hadn’t exactly been in a bedroom state of mind recently.  Between helping Gideon and rebuilding the trust in their relationship, it never felt like the right time.  Plus the pain that had still lingered from an expedited birth could certainly put a damper on even the most romantic of intentions.  

“That was my first thought too.” She whispered. Belle tried not to focus on the hand ghosting over her abdomen making this feel real.   “I looked in the library-“  

“Naturally,” Rumplestiltskin chuckled before pressing kisses into her hairline.  

She hummed in pleasure at his actions.  It was easy to forget she had ever been worried when he seemed so ready to shower her and the baby with affection.  Of course, the bigger and more unpredictable challenge was still to come.  

“And I think the Evil Queen didn’t use enough magic to speed up my pregnancy.”  

She felt Rumplestiltskin tense beneath her at the memory of the terrible time, of how he missed his second sons birth, of how she wouldn’t even tell him Gideon’s name, of the blatant fear on her face.  

Belle hurried on with her explanation trying to keep them in the present.  “If you’re having fraternal twins, you need more magic.  Of course I don’t know much about magic, but that seems to be about right, I mean larger cost and all.”  She was babbling, but really couldn’t stop herself.  It felt easier if she got it all out at once.  

“And maybe I shouldn’t even be calling them fraternal twins, it could be super-, superf-” She should have brought her notes from the library, because even as she tried to explain it was like her mind was blank.  

“Sweetheart,” He grabbed her hand, trying to keep herself from getting too worked up again.  “You’re not doing this alone anymore.  We can figure this out together.”  

“So you’re not mad?”  Even though Rumplestiltskin seemed excited, she couldn’t help but ask. She needed to.  

She knew this pregnancy dragged up so many regrets and fears.  If there had been no Black Fairy, no Evil Queen, they would have had two lovely children, with the language of twins all their own.  They would have decorated a nursery and switched out the cribs for bunk beds eventually.  There would have been laughter as their house was made the castle or pirate ship or dragon’s den for countless playtimes.   But that was a time stolen from them, an illusion that she needed to give up on to give both her children an opportunity to be themselves and not her silly idolized version of them.  

Rumplestiltskin’s arms tightened around her.    “I could never be mad about this.   Having a family with you was all I ever wanted.”  

There was so much sadness laced in those words.   So many memories of the times she’d doubted that, of times when his quest for power to protect that dream sabotaged it.  

Belle began to fiddle with her wedding ring to give herself something to focus on.  

“I just don’t know how to tell him.  Without you I’d certainly mess up telling Gideon I was pregnant.”    

There was a crash behind them and Belle lifted herself off Rumplestiltskin’s lap to see the source of the commotion.    

Gideon was staring blankly at them, a tea tray smashed on the floor in front of him.    

“Pregnant?”  His voice was shaking.  

Belle tried to pull her son into an embrace, to hold him as they sorted things out, but he pulled away from her.  

“No!  This can’t be happening now! You said you would help me! You said you’d help me free the children still stuck in the Dark Realm!”  

Every word felt like a stab.   She knew things wouldn’t go well, but she thought it would be her son’s insecurity in his place in this family that caused all the problems not his desire to be a hero that was so much like hers.    

“Gideon! Wait!”  Her shouts were only greeted by the slam of the shop’s front door.

She turned to look back at Rumplestiltskin, who staring at his cane intently seemed much calmer than he had any right to be.  

Belle tried to pull him off the cot to help her chase down their son, but he merely waved a hand and repaired the tea set Gideon had dropped.  

“What are you doing? We have to go after him!”

He gave her a weak smile.  “No, sweetheart, that would only be chasing him away.”  

Belle reluctantly sat down on the bed next to him, leaning into him as if she could absorb all his calm and parental knowledge.

“He needs time to come to terms with it.”  Rumplestiltskin squeezed her hand.   “I think we all do.  We just have to remember.  This isn’t like last time.”  

Even as he said it, Belle heard the slight waver in his voice that meant Rumplestiltskin was trying to convince himself as well.  

[daenerystargaryensass]

Siren’s Song

Inspired by @katyakora “A Question of Instincts” - Team Legends needs help with an anachronism. Ray knows Mick is…acquaintances with a gal who can help. Too bad they wanna rip each other’s throats out.

“You know we don’t have to do this?” Mick paused in his pacing and looked up at his mate.

“What d’ya mean?” Ray rolled his eyes; sometimes Mick’s lizard brain affected him more than he realized.

“Babe, we haven’t even tried to contact your fri…I mean acquaintance.” he corrected at the growl. “And you’re already tense and pacing.”

Mick wasn’t a huge fan of other creatures; especially ones he referred to as “riddle speaking, brain melting fuckers”. Unfortunately, that was exactly what they need to fix their latest anachronism. The man had amassed quite the following, most of whom where trained fighters. With such massive numbers, they needed an advantage. Hence the suggestion of contacting the creature who could do what they needed and wasn’t a dire enemy.

Mick sighed and ran a hand over his face.

“Just don’t like the idea of her around my hoard.” Ray made a face; his lover had already stated that several times. Going over to Mick, he snuggled into him, hoping the affection would help him open up.

“You’ve said that before. What exactly do you mean by that?” Mick sighed again, wrapping his arms around the smaller man.

“Not exactly sure what’s she’s gonna ask in return. Could be lots of things; things that might be weird.”

Ray couldn’t help but laugh.

“Weirder than anything we’ve dealt with before? Or do you just not want her near me?” Mick only grunted, which Ray took as a 50/50 answer.

“Look, if it’s really bothering you out that much, we can find another way. May take a little more time, but we could do it.” Rumbling, Mick nuzzled into the smaller mans neck.

“You know we ain’t got that much time as it is.” Blowing out a breath, Mick made his decision. “Gideon, find us some place to land, by saltwater.”

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“Well, well, well! Mikaere Rory, as I live and breathe. Look who decided to come out of their cave! And you brought friends!”

Whatever the team had been expecting when the term “siren” was mentioned, it wasn’t anything like the woman standing before them.  She looked…. well absolutely normal. A little colorful and eccentric, but nothing that screamed “I’m a mythical creature!” Then again, Mick didn’t look any different unless he was shifted.

Sitting on a rock, she looked like your typical college student. Short, barely 5 foot tall. Soft and curvy, she was wearing a long black shirt, ripped jeans, and combat boots, with a backpack slung over her back.  Bright blue-green hair, short and curly. Cat eyed sunglasses obscured her eyes. Though now, as they got a closer look at her, she seemed to shimmer all over, like she had been dusted in glitter. Her face was twisted in a sarcastic grin as she lazily lounged on the rock; she was obviously enjoying this.

“Drusilla. Thanks for meetin’ us.”

Mick was tense from head to foot; even with the team in his sights and Ray right next to him, he couldn’t help his lizard brain. He fucking loathed siren’s, but she was the only one he knew who was willing to play nice with fire creatures.

“Now who do we have here?” Hoping off the rock, she made her way towards the group. Her voice was rich and melodic, with a vague hint of an accent.

Coming face to face with the siren, Ray looked her up and down. Now that the siren was closer, he could tell several insignificant things that, if one didn’t know better, screamed at her non-human status. Drusilla’s skin had a vague greyish-green tint, if the light hit it just right. The tops of her ears came to a slight point. The shimmer could be dismissed as glitter, but it was obviously a physical sign of magic.  Reaching out a hand, she took a deep breath.

Mick let out deep rumble that froze everyone but Drusilla; clearly a warning growl, but the siren just looked even more amused, pushing her sunglasses up on her head. Her eyes shone an unnatural slivery green.

“Relax your lizard brain, Mickey. You know I mean no disrespect.”

Not sure what was happening, everyone stayed still as siren and dragon stared one another down.

“Right…. forgot you water banshees live by smell.” Mick grit out.  Drusilla laughed; a wave of calm swept over the group. Drusilla held out her hand again.  

“As your lovely dragon has probably told you, I’m Lady Drusilla, of House Thunderclaw, but you can just call me Dru.” Shaking Ray’s hand, she let out another laugh. “Ah, I see you found your mate. What a handsome specimen!” She threw a wink at Ray, ignoring the rumble Mick let out. This siren was either very brave or very crazy; but, being someone Mick could “tolerate”? More than likely both.

After shaking hand with the rest of the team, she stood back, head titled. “And…” she took another deep breath. “Are they….no! They’re your hoard?!” The woman let out an amused snort. “Oh, only you Mikaere.”

“Wait, you can tell that sort of thing?” Sara wasn’t exactly surprised though; there was a lot they still didn’t know about the whole creature thing.

Drusilla nodded. “It’s only obvious to another creature. Whatever we consider “ours” becomes marked with our scents. Keeps squabbling to a minimum.” She gestured to the picnic tables.

“Now that introductions are out of the way, let’s have a seat and discuss why I was sent such an urgent message.”

Pushing two tables together, they all sat down, Mick and Sara right across from Drusilla with the rest of the Legends where Mick could see them. Sara gave the abridged version of how they had come together and what their current objective was. During the entire thing, Dru sat with an interested, but mostly neutral expression.

“So, I will take a wild shot and say you have come up against another odd occurrence. And to deal with this, you need me?”

“What exactly can you do?” Nate, bless his soul, couldn’t keep his mouth shut any longer. Mick did feel a twinge of sympathy; he was obviously being affected by her Call, if his red face and tense body was anything to go by. Dru gave him wicked smile and Mick could tell he was physically trying to will away what he was feeling.

“Firstly, no one legend or tale gets in completely correct. We sirens do live in the water, with our merpeople cousins. Most of us in saltwater, though some of us are freshwater or can live in either. Our abilities come two-fold; we feed off of any strong emotion, not just sexual. The best is sexual desire, however. To bring those emotions out, we have a special Call that makes beings believe what they desire most is really happening.  Drowning or injury usually doesn’t happen; at least with older, more mature sirens.”

“Thank fuck you’re mature.” Mick bit out, still tense. He had worked with Dru before and wanted to growl at her definitions of “often” and “mature”. The siren just rolled her eyes; they’d obviously had this discussion before.

“I’m nearly 700 years old, Rory. I think that more than makes me mature.” She grinned, showing a hint of sharp teeth.

Even Sara looked suprised at that; the team knew that she was using a glamour to hide her real appearance, but nearly 700?

“Good magic.” She shrugged. “And siren’s age very, very slowly. A snail’s pace, I think is how you would put it.”

“What do you actually look like then?” Christ, Mick was really regretting not duct taping Pretty’s mouth shut before they came. The man was gonna get himself devoured before the end of this…and probably not in a completely sexual way either.

“Oh, sweetheart,” she cooed, wagging a slim finger near Nate’s face,barely grazing his cheek. The slight brush made him whimper. Mick let out another warning growl; Ray’s death grip on his arm was the only thing keeping him in his seat. Fucking touchy, cocky water bitch. “I’d give your pretty little brain nightmares if I showed you my true form. Don’t need all that knowledge going to waste.” Removing her hand, she turned back and gave Mick a hard look.

“So, let’s talk terms before Mikaere here tries to turn me to ash. I’ll keep it short and sweet. In the spirit of knowing how much pride Rory had to squash down to call me and the fact that there will be an ample feeding source, all I require in exchange for my services is that Mickey here admits that we’re friends and that he doesn’t hate me as much as he pretends to.”

(Tune in next time to see if Mick can swallow his pride and admit his friendship to Dru so they can complete the mission or will this be too much for Mr.Stubborn)

[imgilmoregirl]

A Thing Between Light And Darkness (Chapter 12)

AO3 Link

Rumford couldn't see anything and it frustrated him like nothing else could. He was used to keeping an eye in everything that happened around Storybrooke through Pongo's eyes and it always made him feel powerful, because he knew everything about everyone and had all the secrets and information the residents wanted to hid. However, now sitting at the Lunae Libri with Belle in his arms, he was paralyzed, the echoes of the conversation Gideon had with Victoria Belfrey making his head spin, because even all those miles away from his house, Rum could feel that his boy was in danger and that there was magic in that woman.

He looked down at Belle, curled in his lap, analysing the chain he had brought while she procured something in one of her beloved books, completely unaware of what was happening in his mind. Belle mumbled something under her breath, flipping up a page and Gold slid his hands down her arms, bringing her close to his chest in a fail attempt to calm his descompassed heart. Breathing in the sweet essence of her shampoo he gave herself the luxury of fearing for just another second before he did what he should.

"There is something wrong with Gideon," Rumford forced himself to whisper to Belle.

She dropped the book to her lap, turning her had to take a look at his unexpessive face, appearing to be trying to understand if she in fact had heard him right.

"What?"

"There is someone dangerous in the house," he repeated and this time he lifted her petite body alongside with his as he stood up and disappeared from the library, leaving Belle alone, confused and terrified.

Gold materialized in the front door of Isabelle's house, getting a hold of the handrail when he felt his knees get weak; he hadn't used that ability in a long while because it took a lot of his strength and left him in need of feeding himself again. But at least he was there, right where his son needed him. And apparently Rum hadn't been the only one who came in Gideon's rescue, because he saw Alice appearing magically down the street. He had to admit that she was getting better in controlling her powers, although he wasn't much happy to see her there, putting herself in danger.

But glancing away from his niece, he could see the woman that tried to break into the house, dressed in fine clothes, her short hair perfectly straightened behind her ears. Rumford grunted at her, moving into Victoria's direction with a swift movement. He abruptly pressed her against the wall, hands closing tightly around her arms, enough to hurt, but it only caused a wide calm smile to take her lips and that was when he felt the tingle of magic and recognition on his fingers. Then, that deep laugh he so remembered came from the woman's throat, but in a voice, that wasn't Belfrey's at all.

"Hello, Rumford."

She dissipated from there as if her body was made of smoke, and Rum's hands hit the cold wall as he felt like the research Belle spent so many time making, was finally showing up, like an old prophecy. For a long moment, he was just frozen in place, until Alice passed by him, running through the opened door and he followed her as quick as he could, having his first vision of his son laying flaccid on the floor.

"Gideon!" Alice exclaimed kneeling beside her cousin. "Oh, Gideon, wake up!"

There were tears in her eyes; she was clearly afraid of what might happen to the boy. Alice never had real friends, she was a very closed person and the fact that people always noticed how odd she was made them keep their distance, so Gideon was the first to be there for and Gold knew that losing his friendship terrified her. However, the prospect of something bad happening to his boy didn't do any good for Rum either and he needed to be sure that Gideon was fine.

"Get out of the way, Alice," the Incubus commanded.

Alice stepped back and he used his powers to lift his son's body to the couch. His niece followed him to the living room and sat by Gideon's side with a haunted expression in her face.

"He is pale," she murmured.

"He fainted and bumped his head,' Gold answered noticing some traces of blood in the back of Gideon's head. "Go fetch some water for when he wakes."

The girl gave him a glare that clearly said this was the last thing she wanted to do, but Alice knew better than to disobey her uncle, so she nodded and headed to the kitchen. Rum slid to the centre table, taking a seat while watching for his unconscious son and though what he should do now.

"Rumford?" He heard Isabelle’s voice calling from the doorstep and suddenly remembered that he had left her alone in the library.

"In the living room!"

There was a muffled noise echoing in the corridors, which he was sure to be the attrite of her high heels against the floor and then, Belle appeared, dropping her hand-bag to the floor and immediately rushing to Gideon’s side, her hair falling to her face when she took their son’s hand in hers and kissed his knuckles.

"Oh, my poor boy," she whispered, touching his pale face.

They watched as Gideon suddenly jumped on the sofa, sitting quickly, scanning the living room with wide eyes, not even giving himself the needed time to awake properly.

"Where is she?" He questioned exasperatedly. "Where is Victoria?"

"Yeah, explain him where she is," Mrs. Potts said as she entered the living room, carrying her grocery bags and being followed by Alice, who was coming from the kitchen.

The challenge was explicit on the housekeeper’s tone. She and Gold had never been on good terms, both because in the past each one claimed to know the best for Belle and that was the opposite of what the other had in mind, but also because, her, as a human who used magical sources for protection and foreseen, loathed the ones linked with the darkness.

"Gideon, that was not Victoria Belfrey," Rumford started, carefully. "It might be her body, but she was someone else, just disguised."

"Who?"

"Eloise," the Incubus answered.

At this information, Alice got startled, glancing directly at him for the first time since she had come back with the water.

"Eloise, like my mother?"

"Exactly your mother," it was Belle who answered, gently petting Gideon’s hair and avoiding the girl’s eyes.

She hated being the one to tell this to Alice, but she also felt like it was her duty, and only hers, to share this information, because it was Belle who found out, that not just Malcolm, but also Eloise was alive.

"But I thought she was dead," Alice mumbled, confused, blinking her eyes repeatedly to keep her tears from falling down her cheeks.

Reaching for the pocket of her coat, Belle took the chain from there and handed it to Rumford, who held her glance for some long seconds, before nodding understanding, because they both knew it was time for the secrets of this family to end.

"Take it, you two,” Gold said, offering the chain to his nice and gesticulating for Gideon to come join her, “it might explain some things."

Standing up, Gideon made his way to Alice and closed his hand right above hers, where the chain rested and they were dragged, like every single time before, to another place in another time. But today they were inside a beautiful, cosy living room, with pastel-pinkish walls, dark golden curtains and wooden brown furniture, however, the scene happening in there was very far away from being beautiful.

A tall, dark-haired man with intense blue eyes, dressed all in black stood in one of the ends of the room, a baby girl wrapped in a red blanket in his arms. A woman stood before him, some of her hair braided and falling around her shoulders; she had a cold expression in her face as she made a quick flourish with her left hand and the curtains started to burn, alongside with most of the furniture.

"What the bloody hell are you doing?” the man shouted at her, angrily. “Eloise, stop it."

"No," she shook her head, eyes narrowing with determination. "I fought darkness for long enough."

Lowering his gaze to the child in his arms, the man, who as mad as he seemed to be with Eloise, still looked surprisingly fearless, for the first time appeared to be pretty aware that the house was getting full of smoke and the flames approached him at each passing second.

"But the baby - " he started, unsure, rubbing the little girl’s back repeatedly. "You can't do this to Alice."

Eloise’s eyes stopped in Alice’s little form. She was a very calm baby, and was distractedly sucking at her thumb, head laid against her father’s chest as she faced her cruel mother.

"He told me if I let go of this family, then I can be in control of myself. No more fights with a fate I didn't choose."

"Eloise, please,” the man begged, “you can't let Malcolm delude you this way. This is a lie and you know it!"

"If I can't trust my father, then I'm lost," Eloise said, stepping back. "I'm sorry, Killian."

The image got blurry and suddenly they weren’t inside the Jones’ living room anymore, but in the middle of the wreckage the house had become, reduced to ashes. Two people stood there in the dark of the night, facing the doomed place while the rain soaked their clothes.

"She destroyed this place," Regina murmured, folding her arms against her chest, feeling cold, "and everyone inside."

There was a loud squeal and Rumford stepped forward, using his powers to remove some of the ruins that were hiding the tiny babe, which cried aloud, probably starving by now. He bent and picked her up, facing her dust covered face.

"No, not everyone," he mumbled, both to Regina and to himself. "Hello, Alice."

The vision dissipated and in the next moment, they were back to Gideon’s house and Alice was letting the chain fall to the floor as she took a step back, shaking her head and allowing some tears to ran free down her face. Rumford stood up, coming closer to touch her arm, but she shifted away from him.

"Alice."

"You lied to me," the girl accused. "She killed my father and she tried to kill me!"

"I wanted to protect you," Gold tried to defend himself.

It hurt him to see her suffering, because Alice was the closest thing he had of a daughter; he raised her ever since that day when they found her alone in the rain – one he was pretty sure her powers must have invocated at some point, as it was the only explanation for her being the only survivor in that fire, when her father, who was a powerful Caster, couldn’t make out of there himself – he had spent more time with her, than he did his own child. Rumford didn’t want to see her hurt and he knew the truth was painful.

"That's not protection, uncle Rum," Alice cried. "Why is she after Gideon?"

"Because what I feared the most happened. Malcolm knows that Gideon is my son."

"And why would that matter to him?"

He took a longer breath, knowing this was the time for truth, it was now or never and if he wasn’t sincere with them now, he would probably end up being hated by all the people he loved.

"Malcolm is trying to create a new species of Incubus, one which light doesn't bother them in any aspect, one that can live without having to feed so often," Rumford explained. "He tried combining Incubus and Succubus with every kind of powerful Caster he knows, but he didn't try breeding with a Mortal."

"Gideon is what he is looking for," Belle concluded.

The boy blinked.

"Am I?"

"We don't know yet, sweetheart," she tried to give him a little smile. "But as you grown old we will be able to find out."

"However," Mrs. Potts added. "No one will be able to find anything out if Malcolm takes him away first. We need to protect ourselves; Victoria only didn't enter this house because of my protective methods."

"Marking the door with salt and evoking the death never made anyone a hero," Rum remarked, narrowing his eyes at her.

Mrs. Potts bounced between the tips of her toes and the balls of her feet, apparently trying to control himself before she could manage to attack Rumford, in a surge of rage. She walked dangerously slow to him, resting her hands on her hips.

"If I were you I wouldn't question me, because Gideon would most certainly be a part of my death brigade if it wasn't for my own ways of protection."

"Old witches," Rumford grumbled under his breath.

Belle poked him on the ribs with her elbow, giving a fake smile to the housekeeper, in an attempt to keep them from killing each other. Alice was still crying; Gideon was still in shock. There was a lot to settle down and the last thing they needed was to have another matter to deal with.

"Mrs. Potts, you can go to sleep," Belle suggested. "I can take care of this."

The housekeeper gave her an angry glare.

"We'll talk about it tomorrow, Isabelle," she warned, then making her way to the kitchen to quickly leave the grocery on the counter, before going to her room.

A sigh of relief left Belle as she turned around to face the other expectant faces, two which didn't get exactly what they wanted that night and seemed to be pretty angry.

"Who wants a cup of tea?"

"Mama, the last thing anyone wants right now is a cup of tea," Gideon breathed. "I'll take Alice upstairs, so she can calm down."

Getting a grip on his cousin's arm, Gideon dragged her upstairs, as Rumford hugged Belle from behind hiding his face on her hair.

"Did they just cut us out of their conversation?"

"We are the bad parents right now, sweetheart," Rum shrugged.

"Yeah, so it seems," Isabelle agreed with a snort. "Will you take my tea?"

"Of course."

Departing from him, Belle went to the kitchen, where she settled all the groceries Mrs. Potts had brought on their right places, before managing to find the teapot and putting some water to boil. Rumford sat by the breakfast table, watching her do those methodical, simple things and wishing life could be just that easy. He couldn't help wishing to be only human.

It took no much time for them to be sat side by side with cups filled with hot tea in their hands, sipping and thinking, minds too far away from there. The presence of the other was calming for them, soothing, even, and they didn't need much but to have this quiet moment. However, it was impossible for Rum to keep in silence for much time.

"I'm sorry, Belle," he started, reaching for her hand, "I wish there was something I could do to stop my father."

"We will find a way," she guaranteed him with that secure smile, which was always able to make his heart race.

Belle was a safe haven for him. He had no idea how he managed to spend so many time away from her, but he didn't want to lose that woman never again. She was neutral, she was rational, she was a thing between light and darkness where desperation didn't exist and he hated the fact he was the one ruining the peace she should have.

"He is planning in using both of them," Gold told her, rubbing circles in her soft skin. "Gideon and Alice."

"Alice?" Belle inquired.

Rumford nodded.

"Her birthday will happen in the day of the most powerful eclipse in two hundred years. The first ever since the one that cursed our family."

He saw when things made sense in her mind, her eyes shinned as they always did when she reached some kind of wanted acknowledge and she left her teacup aside, moving in the chair so she was looking right on his eyes.

"Do you think she can choose Light or Darkness?"

"I think my father might be betting on that, yes," he confirmed, pulling her close. "Come here."

Passing a leg each side of his, Belle kissed him passionately, giving a little of the strength he had lost while using his powers earlier. His fingers carded her hair and she spread kisses along his jaw, nervous hands stroking his back.

"I love you, Rum, but I'm afraid," she confessed.

"Don't worry for now, alright?" Gold whispered, promessing: "I'll take care of this."

And he never in his life broke a promise he did, so obviously that wouldn't be the moment he would choose to do so, but there was a price, he knew it very well. When the time came and Rumford had to inevitably face his father again, he would make sure the rest his family stayed safe, but he never promised safety for himself.