#die again roderick you suck

[yes-i-can-hear-you-clemfandango]

The one character I hate more than Jerry?

Laszlo’s father. The man abused Laszlo in some pretty horrible ways and despite claiming he wanted to reconcile he showed no remorse for any of his actions, and even if he had been he wasn’t entitled to any reconciliation with his victim. Man… poor Laszlo. The MFer wanted to continue to abuse him even in the present and he had most of the people around him slobbering over how “charming” his father was (HINT: narcissists are both incredibly charming and horribly abusive at the same time) and pushing him to mend the relationship aka allow his abuser access to his life to continue the cycle. Nope. Nope, nope.

Eat shit, Jerry, but burn in hell, Roderick Cravensworth.

[dilfdoctordoom]

Bette's thoughts on Jacob, Catherine Hamilton, Nathan, and Philip kane. Feel free to toss in Roderick and Betsy

HECK YEAH, KANE FAMILY. I also tossed in Addie Kane, because, uh, I love her & Addie being a part of the Gotham Kanes is a hill I will die on.

Jacob Kane:

We’ve actually got canon to go on here, so that’s pretty fun

Like, okay, we gotta acknowledge that Jake did visit her so often that people at the hospital thought he was Bette’s dad, so he obviously does care about her

The issue is that they both suck at communication

Jake just wants her to be safe, but Bette is convinced he thinks she’s just... not as good as Kate

Like, there’s a scene in Batwoman (2011), where Jake has her meditate & it’s supposed to be a break from training, but it irritates the hell out of Bette’s injury & she just... doesn’t say anything. She thinks it’s some kind of test which is more of a testament to childhood trauma than anything else oh worm

I know we didn’t get to see Bette in that big ‘Tec arc with Jake. She didn’t show up in ‘Tec at all, we don’t acknowledge West Point Bette here, but! But. I think Bette would’ve been pissed as hell. She would not vibe with what he’s doing & wouldn’t hesitate to make that very clear

And unlike Kate, Bette’s, like, a debate champion. She doesn’t manage to change his mind but damn, if she doesn’t make him feel like shit

Jacob never tells her, because he’s convinced that it was overconfidence that got Bette hurt by the Hook, but she genuinely impresses him. Like, Bette’s a badass, yeah, but pretty much everyone in their family is. No, what impresses him most about her is the fact that she never gives up

Like. I think we need to acknowledge that Bette is beyond stubborn, to an insane extent. She was flatlining but held on & her first words after that were, ‘can I keep the mask?’. This girl is in this ‘till the day she dies & she’s hellbent on making sure that’s in the far future. She’s been told by pretty much everybody she looks up to, everyone she loves, that she should quit, but she never listens. It’s fucking amazing but he’s also constantly worried about her.

So, yeah, he’s a little in awe of her, but would it kill her to take a break? Probably not, he’d love it if she would do it without him having to keep her under house arrest

Catherine Hamilton:

Catherine’s main concern is making sure that Bette does not die

Bette does not make this easy. She runs headfirst into danger, she’s an adrenaline junkie & she’s been a vigilante since she was a kid. Stopping her isn’t exactly easy

And Catherine gets that she can’t. Bette’s gonna be in this for the rest of her life, but the least she can do is make sure that she knows she has somewhere safe to stay when things get too much, somebody that’ll listen & patch her up

Bette’s quite... hesitant on this. Again, she’s got a mountain of trust issues

Catherine Hamilton would fight Kathy Kane, okay? Like, end of the day, Catherine loves Bette. She’s part of the family & she hates seeing her hurt & that’s what Bette’s been doing for years. She might be good at hiding it, but it’s true

So Catherine is determined to be there for Bette, whether she likes it or not

(And Bette does kind of like it. She adores having somebody that just... supports her. Completely unprompted, because she’s family, because it’s right)

Nathan Kane:

Bette doesn’t have many memories of Nathan

He died when she was about eight years old? So, while she does remember him a little, it’s not a lot

He was pretty nice to Bette when she was a kid, especially since Kathy seemed to adore her

Absolutely spoiled Bette on her birthday every year, without any hesitation

He probably would’ve been one of her favourite family members if he’d, you know, lived

Philip Kane:

Bette didn’t really get to know him

He roped Bruce into babysitting her & she’d see him in passing but, uh, yeah, she didn’t know her Uncle Philip all that well

He... didn’t really care for his sibling’s kid. Like... I think Bette’s parents were pretty cut off from the Kane family until Martha died

Bette did attend his funeral, though

Addie Kane:

Aunt Addie is Bette’s favourite aunt, okay, she just is

Bette found out about Slade being Addie’s ex-husband when she was, like, nineteen & it was one a ‘okay, yeah, that makes sense, explains why he did not murder me’

Addie tells Bette to never join the military & Bette listens because that plotline is stupid & I hate it

I would kill for a rivalry between Addie & Kathy, two heads of massive spy organizations

Bette still visits her Aunt Addie. They’re not as close as they used to be, since Addie kinda went AWOL after what happened to Joey, but she’s definitely one of the better family members that Bette has

She also finds fighting Deathstroke absolutely hilarious now. If you think that Addie hasn’t been feeding her blackmail material for years, you are very wrong

Bette loves her aunt & goes to see her at least every two months. Joey is usually there too, she loves it

[amarabliss]

Oaths and Hearts - 15 (Ignis Scientia/Reader)

So this is a crossover between FFXV and Dragon Age Inquisition.

You fell through a rift into the fade fighting the demons you swore to protect your world from. When you popped out you were no longer in the lands of Ferelden instead trapped in Insomnia. The gracious king allowed you to say recognizing power when he saw it. One thing led to another and now you were part of the procession of the prince to his wedding years later. Before the final battle, after years of fighting, losses, and love…your friend…your king…Noctis has asked you to change it all…

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Part 9 Part 10 Part 11  Part 12  Part 13 Part 14

“It’s really you.” You reached up, holding Hawke’s face. It felt worn and weathered as if it had been through many storms. Streaks of grey shot through his dark hair and beard that had grown longer.

“I will answer all your questions Inquisitor, but we cannot stay here. He will come back and I doubt the same tricks will work twice.” Hawke squeezed your hands before reaching for his staff and standing.

You stood up looking around seeing the pungent greens and browns of the fade, “…the Fade…”

“Yes…now come.” He held out his hand to you, “You’re not really here…but we have to find the door back to you. I’ll take you someplace safe until we can figure out where that is.”

You nodded taking his warm hand in his and followed behind him in silence. He seemed to know every path, nook, and crack to take them away. Finally, hours later when you could take the silence no more you spoke softly, “I’m so sorry…”

He stopped and looked down into your eyes. He shook his head, “Please tell me you have not held onto my memory as a burden?”

“It was an impossible choice…I would have stayed myself…” You began to tear up and fell silent when his free hand fell to your shoulder firmly.

“It was the right one. Alastair…as strong a man he is…do you really think he could have survived here?” Hawke smiled chuckling, “Sarcasm only does so much here…it had to be a mage, one who’s dealt with the fade before…and it couldn’t have been you, you held the power to close the rifts that plagued our home. It had to be me.”

“You can’t possibly be alright with it…” You asked as he turned continuing down a narrow path, “Hawke…”

“I admit…there was a time I was angry…” He nodded a little, “I gave up so much to keep you safe…My home, my life…Fenris…”

He looked at you again sighing, “Then I remember…if you hadn’t gone, I would have likely never made it back to Fenris anyways. Orlais is quite far from the Free Marches. I’m sure the world would have crumbled before I stepped foot in Ferelden. At least this way, I know he’s safe and alive.”

“…Varric…he wrote a letter…” You hung your head a little, “He wrote two actually…one to Carver and Fenris…Carver apparently responded, but Fenris…I never heard if he replied.”

“I doubt he would respond.” He kept walking as he reached back undoing a bag on his back as he stepped inside a cave of some sort. You looked around seeing how it was set up like a small home. Books lined a shelf, a fire was in the center a cauldron over it bubbling with something, nearby a cot and stool rested comfortably against the wall, “It’s not how Fenris would react. I’m sure he went out and found some of the Tevinter slavers to work out his grief.”

You watched him laugh a little setting down the bag pulling out what looked to be cheese and bread, “Hawke it’s been almost a decade…how have you survived?”

“Well…for a while it waves of demons…soon they backed off realizing I wasn’t just some helpless sleeping mage…” He looked over to you gesturing to the stool before he began slicing the bread and cheese, “I looked for a way out. There was a way in, so logically there’s a way out, haven’t been successful yet.”

“Then there are the spirits.” He looked at you, “Not always helpful, but not malicious like demons. I began visiting with them more and more. They helped me not feel alone, but it’s not the same as your own loved ones. After that it was just adapting…you begin to see things from different angles and perspectives. It’s that or you die.”

“And you were never one to quit.” You smiled a little.

“Well you’re here now, so things must be looking up.” He smirked a little bit before it faded seeing you look away quickly, “…or not…”

“I need to tell you what happened…” You met his gaze finally as he sat across from you, “Starting with…I haven’t been home in a long time…”

“Ignis! Just wait a second!” Gladio shouted at him as he rushed down the hill of debris after his friend, “You can’t just run off!”

Ignis looked around the area as the trio ran up behind him, “Look for something out of place…almost like you’re seeing double or feeling déjà vu.”

“Iggy, are you sure…” Noctis began to speak.

“Noct…” Ignis turned to him seeing his blue eyes widen as he spoke with firm authority, “I would go to the ends of the earth to protect and serve you. But for Y/N…please understand that I would traverse further into any unknown…and then one step more.”

Noct took in a deep breath nodding slowly, “I understand.”

“I don’t!” Prompto looked at them all as surprised filled all their eyes, “I mean I get we need to help Y/N, I do…she’s one of us! But I don’t understand why you think you have to go alone. We need to stick together. We’re stronger together.”

Ignis looked at the young Crownsguard before he spoke, “Prompto, you still have a lot to learn, but your loyalty is commendable. I will not be here…I will need you to make sure our king is safe and well cared for. My responsibilities will be split between you and Gladio.”

“But…wouldn’t it be faster…” He frowned hanging his head as he clenched his fist tightly, “We’ve just lost so much already…”

Gladio stepped close to him put his arm around Prompto’s shoulders, “Don’t let Iggy’s lanky appearance fool you, he’s capable of doing everything we can do together all by himself. He did all the training we did and more…one day he’s going to be General to the King, Noct’s right hand.”

“Damn straight.” Noct slapped a hand on Ignis’ back looking at him with pride, “Wouldn’t have it any other way.”

“Okay…” Prompto looked at Ignis with worried eyes, “But you have to come back, you have to promise. Come back with Y/N.”

“That I can do.” Ignis offered his hand to Prompto who took it tightly, “Now…help me find the way.”

They began scouring the area looking for any abnormality. Ignis had his journal out explaining over and over how you described the doorway to hime. Evening was setting on them as he scanned the area for the thousandth time.

“Hey Iggy?” He looked over to Noct who sat on a broken desk, “I just had a thought…Y/N has been there before…you’d think she’d be able to come back quickly.”

“Yes…what’s your point?” He shut the journal looking at the young king.

“What if it’s hard for her because he body isn’t near the door?” Noct watched Ignis stand straighter as he went on, “Libertus wouldn’t have known any better, he just wanted to get her help, but she told you that people fell into this place by falling asleep. Obviously, she knows that because they woke up.”

“She has always talked about needing anchors to come back…she could have meant herself...” Ignis took off his glasses wiping a hand over his face as he looked toward the setting sun.

That’s when he saw it. Almost indistinguishable from the sun’s glare. A soft shimmer, he took a step forward, “Noct you should follow that lead.”

“I can give Cor a call now.” Noct stood up watching Ignis carefully, “Maybe we can set up a tent nearby, once we find the way.”

“You won’t need to look much further.” Ignis told him as he kept stepping forward toward the shimmer. He could hear soft voices calling toward him. Voices he’d almost forgotten, it had been so long, “Mother?”

He blinked once and as a bright light blinded him momentarily. When he opened them again his eyes adjusted slowly seeing his old home. He stood there confused trying to get his balance back. He jumped as a warm voice washed from behind him, “Ignis, we’re going to be late.”

He turned seeing his mother smiling at him his father helped her with her jacket, “Mother?”

She tilted her head a little as she stepped toward him, “Darling is something wrong?”

He leaned into her touch as she cupped his cheek. He felt himself tearing up as your voice came to him, “The Fade gives you everything you ever wanted as it sucks the very life out of you.”

“Ignis?” His father stepped up behind his mother.

Swallowing down the painful knot in his throat he took a step away from them, “I-I know you’re not real.”

“…wha…” His mother looked to his father, “Roderick…”

“We knew this might happen, Eleanor.” Roderick put his arm around her shoulder before looking at Ignis, “Son, do you remember the accident?”

Ignis shook his head, “There was no accident…I came here to look for someone…”

He stepped around them to head for the door. His mother reached out grabbing his arm with both hands, “Ignis please…you need help…”

She felt so real to him as she tried to pull him back, “You’re not real…”

“Baby please…I’m your mother…” Tears welled up in her eyes. His eyes…he had his mother’s eyes. He had almost forgotten, “You were in an accident…it confused you.”

He pulled his arm from her with difficulty only of his have his father step in his way, “Ignis, be logical…”

“Though it pains me…I am.” He looked at his father balling his fist, “You are just…just a dream.”

“…” His father stared at him for a long time before bits and pieces of the room behind him began to fade away, “You’re not going anywhere…”

“I will find Y/N,” Ignis’ eyes narrowed on Roderick, “and I will leave with her.”

The image of his father began to shift and distort into a disgusting creature with insect like arms protruding from his back as his legs hovered over the ground. The rags it wore shifted around its skeletal frame as it clicked and hissed, “Humanssss…ck…fragile thingsss their mindsss…fear would be more appropriate it me thinkssss…”

“He has heart, but he’s too keen…” He looked back to where his mother once stood seeing a naked woman with purple skin and horns. She smirked tilting her head letting the purple flame that was in place of hair trail through the air as her tail flicked like a cat ready to pounce, “we’ll try it your way next.”

Rain began to fall thickly against his face as everything darkened around him. The two hideous creatures, who he determined were demons, disappeared from view. He spun around as the rain only got worse.

He could feel his heart beating loudly in his ears. He could hear your other reminder to him. This place could show your deepest desire, your deepest fear, and everything in between. Right now, he was inside a night that he ran from for years.

He looked around trying to steady his breathing as the road became clear under his feet. The rain was bouncing of the pavement. Each drop raising the water.

He turned again seeing the lights coming towards him. Quickly, he jumped off the road in time to see Roderick glance out the window toward him. Ignis felt a sick cold weight drop into his stomach as the car rode off down the road into the darkness.

The sound of screeching tires and crunching metal echoed in the space. He felt himself tense and clench his fist tightly as he shook his head, “It’s not real…”

He turned to walk away only to find himself once again on the road.  He shook his head spinning around in the rain. Again the headlights in the distance came towards him. He stepped out of the way this time seeing his mother in the passenger seat.

He felt himself involuntarily reach for her. The same noises as before echoed around him. He put his hands to his head shaking it, “It’s not real…it’s not them…”

You watched Hawke putting things in a bag. Provisions, blankets, water… He had taken your story very well and had only asked to clarify a few things. The main one focusing on your child.

Your form here in the Fade wasn’t one that showed how far along you were. In fact, the more you were talking with him you found your clothes seemed to change into what you would wear around Skyhold. You asked him about it, he only smiled pointing out that I was the dreaming.

“We should head out. I don’t know how this would affect your unborn son.” Hawke threw the pack on before moving to his staff, “There’s a reason why mages in the circle terminate anything that resulted after fraternizations.”

“I’m aware…” You shook your head standing to your feet, “It wasn’t like I planned it…”

“No…but you of all people knew how to be careful. Especially you…” Hawke spoke quietly, “I never apologized by the way…”

“You needn’t…Cullen and I weren’t exactly being discreet that day.” You reflected to the moment he referred to.

“What is it all for then?!” Cullen shouted at you across the room, “What is all of this fighting for if not to have a family and preserve the future?”

“It’s different…when you’re a mage.” You crossed your arms trying to remain calm, “You wouldn’t understand…”

“Then help me to…” He stepped over to you putting his hands on your arms, “My darling, please…I love you…I want…I want to have a family with you.”

You looked into his eyes feeling tears come to your eyes, “It’s not possible…”

“What do you mean?” His brow crinkled in that particular way that always made you worry about him. You hated that you were the cause of it, “Y/N, what do you mean?”

“Cullen…” You sniffed looking away, “I…I won’t allow it.”

You watched as his face went blank as he took a step back, “You won’t allow it…”

“Cullen, you know what it’s like for a mage…you-you witnessed two circles and all of their cruelty.” You watched him turn away from you, “You can’t expect me want that for a child! Andraste’s grace, I was fourteen and privileged because of my nobility and I was still…”

You stopped letting your arms fall shaking your head, “I don’t need to defend my decision to you.”

“No?” He turned to you anger clear on his face, “Did you ever consider what I wanted? Ever?”

“Cullen…” You sighed shutting your eyes.

“I want children!” His voice raised as he stepped toward you, “I want to be a father so I can change the world and teach my children that magic is not to be feared if you’re willing to understand! So that what you went through at Ostwick will never happen to another mage!”

“I don’t!” You shouted back at him, “It’s not my responsibility to change the world! I’ve done enough as it is, and I will see it through, but I don’t want more!”

The creak of the door made you both look over and Hawke stared at the both of you for a long time. He apologized asking to speak with the Inquisitor. You kept seeing Cullen for a long while after that…but you knew that had been the end of the relationship.

“This Ignis…he must be something special for you to lose yourself.” Hawke smirked a little walking next to you down the path.

You looked at him and smiled, “He is, he really is. He’s understanding…strategic…and kind, so kind.”

“You, my friend, have a type.” Hawke nudged you, “Strong strategic blonde gentleman, no doubt easy on the eyes, and a smile that dazzles for days, right?”

“When he does smile, yes. And I never said he was blonde…” He laughed telling you he assumed simply because you had good taste as you chuckled a little before sighing. You missed Ignis so much, you could swear you heard him calling your name.

Hawke grabbed you by the arm taking you from your thoughts. He gently pulled you off the side pressing himself against the wall, “There’s a nightmare over there.”

“A nightmare demon?” You felt yourself grow cold, “Hawke…”

“No…just a nightmare…probably a lost soul trapped in memory…or a fabrication…” He pointed out the dark area, “It’s in the way…I’m certain your way out is on the other side of it.”

“We should help them.” You told him trying to peer over.

“Are you mad?” Hawke looked at you with furrowed brow, “Stepping into someone’s nightmare…it could shatter you. Make you forget who you are.”

“But that person is in danger!” You pointed over his shoulder, “If we can help-”

“There’s no time…I can’t focus on saving you if we’re saving them!” He snapped at you taking your arms in his hands, “You have to think of your unborn son.”

You stared into his eyes for a long time before you nodded. You hated that people kept using Ulric against you. You knew your condition…you knew your limits…and yet you always fell in line, “Fine…then what do we do?”

Hawke looked back at that black mass for a moment, “We go around and play it safe. You have to do exactly what I tell you. It’s going to bring us close to where I found you before…do you understand?”

“I do.” You nodded slowly before taking in a deep breath, “What about Ardyn?”

“One problem at a time.” Hawke sighed adjusting the pack on his shoulder, “If we’re lucky we don’t have to worry about him.”

“When have we ever been lucky?” You hissed at him as he started down the path again.

He didn’t answer you as you both moved down the path. Tension only seemed to rise with each passing hour. Your nerves felt on fire as you looked around the open area. Nothing seemed amiss as you moved a good distance away from the nightmare, but you knew better then to just relax.

…Y/N…

You stopped whipping around looking around the area as your heart thumped in your ears. You could hear Hawke behind you, “We need to keep moving…”

“Sh!” You held up your hand to get him to stay silent.

…Y/N!...

You took a step toward the nightmare swirling like a hurricane, “Did you hear that?”

“…yes…” Hawke stepped toward you, “It’s not him…it can’t be.”

You heard your name again calling out the distance, “Ignis…”

“Y/N, be reasonable. Logically think it out…” Hawke grabbed your arm, “What are the chances…”

“You don’t know him.” You looked at Hawke shaking your head, “Ignis would find a way…”

“Stop…” Hawke grabbed your arm, “We are so close to getting you home and the more we linger here, the more likely your other friend will show back up.”

Again you heard your name, it sounded like it was in so much pain, but you had to be sure, “I’m sorry Hawke…”

He called after you as you ripped your arm running full speed toward the swirling darkness. As soon as you entered the void you were jettisoned back in a memory from long ago. You shivered instantly drawing your arms close and across your chest.

You struggled walking forward through the thick snow as the blizzard only seemed to ramp up. You back in the ruins of Haven after meeting Corypheus for the first time.

You jaw chattered as the cold sunk deep into your bones, “No…nono…Ignis!”

You stopped looking around at the wind blew your hair around wildly. You didn’t hear a response…feeling dread sink into your gut you began to doubt your decision.

“Y/N!” Your spun looking in the dark toward the voice.

“Ignis!” You shouted again running, falling toward the voice, “Ignis!”

Snow mixed with rain. Terrain shifted under your feet as the nightmares began to overlap with one another. You could just make out a silhouette in the distance. You forced your self to move faster as his form became clearer with every step.

You rushed into his arms the nightmare ripple out away from the both of you. Rain and snow stopped in place swirling around as if a protective shield enclosed the both of you. He pulled away brushing your hair from your face before resting his forehead against yours.

“How…” You stared into his eyes as tears dripped down your face, “How…”

“You give very good instructions on what to look for.” He brushed them away with his thumbs, “I couldn’t let you stay here.”

“Ignis…” You shook your head until he took your face in his hand kissing you. He was here, he was really here.

“How…I’ve been here so long…how did you two…” Ignis moved in front of you instinctively when Hawke came upon the two of you as the void began to fade away from the area, “You should both be…not sane…”

“It’s okay, Ignis.” You put your hand on his arm looking at Hawke, “This is my friend…he’s gonna help us go home.”

[satan-chillin]

Secondary

Summary: Selfishness would always be an integral part of Rowena, which was why she couldn't care less if she had to take Sam away from Death's grasp herself.

Pairing: SamWena/SamWitch

Notes: For the Samwena Week Day 3 - Magic or Lore

Also available in Ao3

He was not breathing. 

  Sam was no longer breathing. 

  Rowena bit back against the sharp stab of pain that seized her with the discovery. She didn’t even know she could feel this as a damned soul and wasn’t it ironic that this was how she found out? 

  It was a gnawing pit that she felt in her chest, and it had been so long that she almost forgot how it could eat her from within. 

  This was why she learned to be callous in the first place, why she knew how to bury foolish emotions, why she put herself above all and damn the rest. 

  This was why she hadn’t cared.

  She had it steady for centuries, cheating others and viciously tearing anyone in her way. She was in a continuous search of decadence, of that power that she thought would help her rise among these weak, lowly beings. 

  And then the realization came to her like a harsh slap in the face: she never wanted those. She thought she did, or at least made herself had that mindset to make it easier to justify all that blood on her hands. 

  Funny that it meant, deep down, what she believed all she deserved was these meaningless, hollow, and fleeting things. 

  What she wanted now was something else that could never be bought or obtained by magic, for all that she has of it. 

  Rowena sucked a deep breath, steeled herself, and set to work. She was far away from the proper altar but the table should be enough. 

  She extended poor Oskar’s life before and had managed to bring herself back to life over and over—the key to reviving Sam should be somewhere along the lines. It was a new workaround that she was looking for, but this should be familiar enough for her to perform the right spell. 

  “Sentio, in terra, in ventum sentio,” she began, pulling at the roots of her magic that surged from within her chest. “Sentio in animo ego dabo gratis. Huic exi dimidia parte.”

  “Stop.”

  Rowena stood rigid, turning to the commanding voice with fury. 

  Billie, with her usual air of placidity and general authority, bore a hint of warning with her. “Rowena,” Death spoke once more. 

  “I don’t recall asking for an audience,” Rowena sneered. “Go and let me be.”

  “I am exactly where I should be,” Billie said. Her eyes flickered to where Sam’s lifeless body was. “Sam Winchester is dead, and it’s his time to be permanently fetched. No take-backs this time.”

  “No,” Rowena said firmly. “You’ve taken my son already. Why should I give you Sam as well?” 

  Billie was unfazed when she cocked her head. “But they never belonged to you in the first place, Rowena,” she pointed out, scathingly indifferent. “You know how it is. You were close to messing with the grand scheme before. I think you know the consequences should you try and do so again.”

  Rowena remembered that disastrous debacle, and to think that she wasn’t repeating history. 

  She discovered then a part of her that was hidden under the rubbles of her failure as a mother to her child, under all that hate she thought she only had for her unwanted son—she loved him, maybe not comparable to the kind of love that Fergus expected of her as a child, but she loved him. 

  She who claimed that it was a weakness and brought her nothing but suffering turned out to hold that semblance of affection for her son. It was too late, of course, and she paid for it with regret. 

  Rowena glanced at Sam. He looked so peaceful already like he was merely asleep, and for once, there were no lines on his face from worry. He deserved nothing but the tranquility in his piece of neverending paradise in Heaven where he would surely go after. 

  Sam never claimed to be flawless and without blood in his own hands, and yet he was able to change her into someone who yearned for redemption in his eyes.  

  The thing was, it was the selfishness that he could never erase from her. She wouldn’t be Rowena MacLeod if selfishness wasn’t an integral part of her. 

  Her hand crept over to touch Sam’s rapidly cooling face. “I know,” she said in reply to Billie’s warning. 

  It wasn’t surprising when Rowena figured that she couldn’t care less if she had to take Sam away from Death’s grasp herself. 

  “Ligabis ad eum et animam meam pro eo.” 

    Rowena was never the first choice. 

  It started when she was born, when her father told her that he would rather have her mother instead of her. He’d rather have a living wife and a dead child, and Rowena had been too young then to comprehend fully the hate. 

  Roderick had the choice to stay with her and their son, his only son; he did not, of course. He chose his grand life with his grand wife and grand family. His abandonment only fueled the bitterness that she grew up with. 

  The Grand Coven chose Olivette over her despite the jarring difference on their level of magic, and once Olivette ascended as the High Priestess of the coven, it was her word against Rowena’s. Next thing Rowena knew, she was banished and half of her powers sealed. She had made the conclusion that she didn’t belong anywhere together with her kind. 

  And when she did finally find her place centuries later, God decided to flip the table and Rowena’s home was forced to take arms against him. It boiled down to a choice one more between her and the world, and if it was a good man that was required to make the decision, would it be so surprising that he would readily choose the side of many?  

  Except Sam didn’t readily make the choice as expected. He broke down in front of her, and Rowena had to egg him on to kill her for the greater good. Dean was an excellent reminder for Sam that he pushed the knife into her in the next minute. 

  Sam grieved for her, and Rowena felt that she was actually important enough for him to mull over a do-or-die decision where the other end of the scale was the fate of the world. 

  They met again without the tense situation, and Sam, to her bemusement, was clearly carrying a deep-seated regret that was practically rolling off his broad shoulders. As much as Rowena wanted to pull him aside properly to assuage him, they never had the time, not when she was running the entirety of Hell and he was running around to find something that would help properly dispose of God for good. 

  Besides, she hardly thought it would matter. What would she say exactly? Should she poke fun at him for being so hung up on her death despite seeing her sitting on Hell's throne afterward? 

  She could tell him the truth. She could tell him that she took the throne as a penance, that she took it because it was an opportunity for her to provide aid against God. She was still a friend, their Rowena, Queen of Hell or no. 

  Rowena could tell Sam that absolution was what she truly wanted. She could tell him that it was he who changed her, made her want to be better. 

  She could tell him that she loved him. 

  No. She couldn't tell him that, not when he was quite taken already with someone who deserved him better than her, someone good for him and could stay with him. 

  It was fitting, Rowena supposed, that the punishment Death subjected her was locking Sam's memories of her. It wasn't only him; everyone was to forget that there was once Rowena MacLeod, a witch who found her home in two hunters, a fallen angel, and a nephilim. 

  Rowena remained the ruler of Hell, with half of her life force sacrificed for the person she held dear the most who couldn't even remember a trace of her. 

  And they said Death wasn't cruel. 

  Magic would always be paid by sacrifice, but Rowena couldn't find it in herself to regret it one bit. 

***

Which was why when in one uneventful day in Hell Sam Winchester barged in with all his 6-foot flannel glory, Rowena stood from her throne, stupefied. 

  He walked up to her, disregarding the demons that surrounded them, and with a face clouded with anger in every step of the way. 

  Oh. It wasn't just fury there; there were also unnameable emotions that danced on his features, she realized upon closer inspection. 

  The silence of the court was deafening, more so when he spoke, almost brokenly, "Why didn't you say anything?"

  The shame was unmistakable, try as she might hide it from her subjects. 

  "No direct contact, I'm afraid. It was what Billie and I agreed on," she replied, her voice sounding foreign in her own ears. 

  "So I was just supposed to live my life—the life you've given me—without knowing what happened? I continue on without knowing how I miraculously survived, is that it?" 

  Rowena refused to glance away under his demanding gaze. "They do say there is bliss in ignorance."

  "No, goddamnit! Not when that means having a gaping hole in you that is looking for something that you and everyone else don't even remember in the first place!" 

  Rowena stood up when the weight of her guilt became unbearable. She approached him with deliberating steps. "Was it so bad then, to forget wee old me? It was preferable that way, for you and for me." She wanted to touch his face again though hesitated. "I can't have you thinking that you're indebted to me, and, knowing you, it'll be the case when you find out. I can't get in the way of your happiness, Sam."

  She was taken aback when Sam had beaten her to it, reaching out with both his hands to cradle her face instead and crashed her mouth to his.  

  Oh. 

  For all its intent, it was a tender kiss that Sam seemed to have put his everything on. Rowena could only hold on to him, pour what she has and let Sam know. 

  “Did it ever occur to you that maybe you’re a part of that?” Sam asked when they broke free, thumbing her cheeks. He was seemingly unable to pry his hands away from her. 

  Rowena, full as heart might be, decided to ask hoarsely, "Do you mean that?"

  She had to know. She was never anyone's first choice and yet Sam was choosing her right now. 

  "Of course I do," Sam replied, planting his lips on her forehead. 

  Rowena didn't need any other words. 

[annerbhp]

I checked and it seems like nobody asked about it (which is a shame), but if you're still doing it - helga and Salazar? I adore your writing and it just catched my eye

Ah, yes. This fic. I am low key obsessed with this at the back of my mind at any given moment. It all started with this bizarre blather I did about the founders and a theory about parseltongue. And then it kind of exploded from there? I posted a snippet a long while ago, but here, have it again along with another one:

They all come to Helga from time to time. Rowena paces, asmooth ceaseless movement across the floor. Godric sometimes sits and sometimes stands, vacillating between inunsteady fits of energy. Salazar just sits. Sits and seethes. He is like theocean, smooth surfaces and treacherous undertows.

They have fought again, Godric and Salazar, and so here heis, sitting and seething in the sunny spaces of her rooms.

“Salazar,” she says, reaching forward and touching his kneewhen he has sat for far too long.

He looks at her with shock at the bold familiarity of thetouch, but rather than reprimanding her, he seems to crumble.

“He reminds me of Roderick,” he confesses. “My brother. Hewas…just like him. Heedless. Reckless. Brilliant. And hurtling towardsdestruction with glee in his heart.”  

“He fell?” she asks, registering the raw grief in his voice.

He nods, the movement jerky. “And he needn’t have. ByMerlin, he needn’t have.”

He shoves to his feet with the barest of murmuredpleasantries and flees her rooms like a swiftly retreating tide.

She thinks of the way his complaints are always laced with“if he would but listen” and “if hecould pause just long enough to think”.She realizes in that moment that he both loves and hates Godric, fears for himin a way he abhors, longs to be accepted in a way he refuses to ask for, too waryto watch another good man die in a fate he has forseen but will not be heard.

He doesn’t speak to her for a week, a strange stiffformality between them, and she understands this is because he has admittedsomething he never wanted to. He is embarrassed and feeling weakened, and onething he will never stand for is appearing weak.  

He will come back though, she knows. He always does.

She waits.

and how about this?

“I wish you would stay.”

She speaks quietly, the words nearly swallowed by thecavernous space of the chamber.

“I wish you would stay,” she says again, this time morefirmly.

If he looks at her, he thinks he will turn to stone assurely as if she were a basilisk. “I wish I could. More than you will ever know.”

Formal leave taking, all the students lined up, liescarefully told and the truth haphazardly circling through as rumor.

Helga watches out of the corner of her eye as Salazar takescareful leave of Rowena, saying something that makes her smile for all there issharp and ruthless edge to it. He lifts her gloved hand in his own, bowing hishead over it.

“Lady Rowena,” he says.

Helga looks away. There are no words at all as Salazar crossesin front of Godric, though she imagines they at least attempt barely civil nods.She hears Godric suck in a breath as if in attempt to say one last thing, butthere are no sounds, no words, just simmering silence.

Then Salazar is in front of her and she can’t bring herselfto look at him, automatically holding her hand out as is expected of her forall she is too lowly for the gesture.

Only he has lost his glove somewhere in her moments of distraction,because his hand is bare against hers as he takes it, and she can’t stop theunsteady breath she releases at the contact, the shock of warmth and intimacyshe is utterly unprepared for, never could be prepared for. She is no blushingmaiden, yet she feels like it all the same, his skin smooth under the roughnessof her callused fingers.

He bows low, so low that his lips actually brush and then pressfirmly against the back of her hand and her knees weaken, his grip firming andholding her in place. She barely hears his words through the rush in her ears.

“My lady,” he murmurs.

A title she has no claim or right to and the way he say itdoes not sound like a formal honorific, but rather much like his lips on herskin and his palm against hers. A declaration. Done quietly in simple code and deeplymeaningful symbolism, but no less loud for it.

The words she should say stick in her throat, as My Lord seems formal and inexact andcruel. But there are no other words, no farewells she can make.

My Salazar.

His hand slips from hers, and she bites back a sound ofprotest, of loss. Belatedly she focuses on him, trying to take in all thedetails to hold him in her eyes and mind as he bows formally to all of them onelast time—distant and contained. Turning sharply on his heel, he crosses overto the horse held for him by a waiting servant. He pulls himself up in one smooth movement, reins tight in his hands ashe turns the mount away from the school—the place he has given everything for.

She thinks of the first time she ever saw him riding downinto her valley almost a decade ago.

Helga bites on her tongue and doesn’t call out after him. Allwords that can be said have been.

The students are dismissed, trudging back up to the castlein steady rows and broken whispers.

Godric’s hand settles firm and steady on her elbow. He hasnot missed a thing, she knows, but will not speak directly of it. She takescomfort in that, letting herself lean slightly into him.

“I am sorry, Helga,” he says, and when she looks she can seereal regret under his lingering anger. “I acted too rashly. I let him drive me pastreason with his endless, irritating pride. Once I realized… He would not let metake it back. Would not bend in the slightest.”

She nods, unsurprised to hear it. It has always been thusbetween them. And Godric, who still does not understand how Salazar strugglesboth for and against him. Does not see that Salazar would kill and die for anyof the three of them. For this school. Above all, this school.

Godric drags a hand through his hair. “If he would but takethe smallest step outside his tower of righteousness we could have perhaps…” Hebreaks off, clearly frustrated. “We could have found a way to right this.”

Helga shakes her head. “He could not do that,” she says,having no illusions about the man whose touch still burned against her skindespite his growing absence. The fears he let drive him. “He thinks he can onlyfall. Break open upon the rocks below, and never stand on his own feet again.”

“Then he is a fool,” Godric says, thoughtlessly cruel in hisregret.

Helga lifts her chin. “We are all fools,” she snaps, andhere are the tears, escaping her control.

“Helga,” he says, voice soft with understanding.

She looks away, out over the forest that has swallowed anysign of the departing party. The lake spreads out from the thick trees, moodyand turbulent in the rising winds, and she has never felt further from homethan she does at this moment.

Curling her fingers that still tingle and long for the feelof ripened wheat and homespun cloth, she sighs.

Godric’s grip tightens, a question there.

She pats his hand. “I am fine.”

She always is. Steady like the seasons, they say. And eventhe harshest frost passes with time.

She pulls from his grasp, longing to slip away to thecomfort of her rooms. Godric’s step follows her, but she cannot be anothermoment in their company, voice too thick and weak to ask for it.

“Leave her be,” Rowena says.

Helga takes the reprieve and escapes. She gives herself themorning to regroup, and in the afternoon, returns to her students and herplants.

She carries on.

[ryik-the-writer]

Gidrick Fic: Ten Things That Never Happened

Rating: T

Summary:  If Gideon had been just a little bit braver, would things have been different for him and Roderick?

[A03]

She was dragging him away.

“Gideon!”

She was going to kill him.

“Help me!”

Gideon was so scared. How could he save Roderick? He was just a kid himself, and the Black Fairy was so powerful, so terrifying.

So right about him.

He began to shrink back in his cell, trying to block out Roderick’s hiccupping sobs.

The Black Fairy laughed…

 1.  

And Gideon met her eyes with a fierce glare.

“Help Gideon! Help!”

Gideon ran after him. He was terrified. He knew there was a chance he and Roderick were going to be killed on the spot, but he ran after him anyway.

He grabbed the boy by the arm and practically carried him back to his cell, throwing him in and closing the cell door before the Black Fairy could catch up with them.

Gideon had proven her wrong after all. He could be a hero.

The beating he received afterwards did not change that.

“I did it for you,” he whispered to the sobbing boy long after the Black Fairy had finished with him. “I promise, she’ll never hurt you again.”

 2.

Gideon was drenched in sweat and had several deep nicks from his most recent sword fight. Xavier was one of mother’s more unstable followers. Eager to draw blood and earn her favor by proving his strength.

Gideon had nearly gotten killed, but he won the spare, and now he could rest.

Roderick was waiting dutifully in his quarters for him. Gideon made him stay there training. Xavier would kill him if he tried to fight for Gideon.

There was worry in the younger man’s deep, blue eyes, but he stayed silent as he handed him a towel.

Gideon smiled, wiping the soft fabric over his chest.

It was good to be home.

 3.

“You weren’t supposed to follow me,” Gideon hissed as he hastily bandaged Roderick’s shoulder.

“I’m not letting you do this alone,” Roderick argued, sucking in a breath when Gideon tightened the final layer of gauze. “This is the savior we’re up against.”

Gideon vanished the conjured medicine basket with a flick of his wrist and stepped away from his companion, passing hastily in the confined space of the clock tower.

“She could have killed you,” Gideon panted, the very idea of the savior hurting Roderick making him want to turn around and fight her again.

“The Black Fairy would have done so just as quickly,” Roderick reminded him as he began to put his shirt back on.

“No she wouldn’t have,” Gideon hissed, his heart racing. “She would have imprisoned you and used you as a bargaining chip to get me to do what she wants, but she would have kept you alive.”

“Or feed me to Xavier,” Roderick deadpanned as he struggled with the buttons.

“She knows what you mean to me!” Gideon finally broke, his voice bouncing off the metal walls.  “And now the savior does too, and you’re in more danger than either of us can imagine!”

Roderick gave up on the buttons and squeezed the sides of his head in irritation. They couldn’t afford to get into a fight now, not when they had too much planning to do. He stood, his shirt slipping down his shoulders.

“Come here,” Roderick sighed, trying to get a hold of his arm.

“No, Roderick,” Gideon sighed, swiping him away.

“Just…come here,” Roderick puffed, turning Gideon towards him. The taller man glared at him, and the heat of his stare did not go away even as Roderick pressed up to kiss him on the lips, balancing himself by the shoulders.

Gideon tried not to give in, tried not to show Roderick how calm a single touch of his lips could make him. But Roderick was the peace to his war, and he could not stay mad at someone who literally crossed realms to be with him.

Roderick pulled back with a wet pop, and Gideon wrapped his arms around him to keep him close.

“I’m sorry,” Gideon sighed, defeated.

Roderick smiled, satisfied that his companion was at ease for tonight.

 4.

There was metal clashing all around him…his father was helping mother…Xavier was trying to stab him…had him pinned against the clock…but then Roderick…

“No no no no…” Gideon sobbed, fighting his mother’s restraining grip.

“Gideon stop, please,” she begged.

Gideon struggled to throw the covers off. He had to find Roderick.

Suddenly his father was there too, trying to hold him down.

“Easy son,” he tried to sooth. “You’re hurt really bad you need to—”

“I need to find Roderick…” Gideon pled. He could taste blood in his mouth.

A screeching behind him caused Gideon to jolt, his ragged nerves latching onto the sound.

His breath evacuated his lungs in one short trip when he saw that the sound was the curtain separating him from the bed next to his.

Behind it was a very bruised Roderick, struggling to sit up as Gideon had moments ago.

His parents didn’t protest when he all but crawled to Roderick’s bed, carefully scooping the younger man into his shaking grip.

He smelled like blood and metal and home.

“I’m sorry,” Gideon sobbed into his dirty curls.

Roderick carefully unhinged him from his shoulder. “I told you I’m not letting you do this alone.”

Gideon laughed wetly, nodding. He had said that, hadn’t he?

Gideon studied the gentle man in front of him, bruised and cracked from the inside out. He’d fought tooth and nail for him their entire life, sometimes just in the most subtle ways. He was always there. When he shouldn’t have been. When Gideon was losing his soul to darkness.

He couldn’t help it, he kissed Roderick hard and fully, tasting their new life on his breath.

Roderick released a sound of joy when they finally parted, holding Gideon’s head to his.

“We made it.”

 5.

Belle had given them separate rooms. There wasn’t an underlined reason for it, it was just something she did to make sure they both rested easily for the night. She was so frazzled from the Black Fairy’s attach that could hardly function, causing Rumplestiltskin to lead her off to bed before Gideon or Roderick could protest.

Honestly neither of them knew what to say. They’d shared a bed since Gideon saved him from the Black Fairy (Gideon was too afraid that she was snatch him away if he wasn’t close enough).

The idea terrified Gideon even as he laid awake in the crisp clean sheets of the guest room, hoping if he breathed low enough he could hear Roderick next door.

This wasn’t right, the distance. He belonged by Roderick’s side. This world was too new and terrifying to exist in on their own.

But now they didn’t need to be as close. The Black Fairy was defeated, and they could afford some distance. Roderick deserved some breathing room, even if the possibility shook Gideon to his core.

He threw the covers off and made a b-line to the door. He’d only check on him, be sure he had enough blanket, he was warm and such. Then he’d return to his own lonely bed and spread out to fill in the empty space next to him.

He opened the door and nearly collided with Roderick’s fist.

In the moonlight, he could see his face look up at him and knew his mind. He shifted aside with a steady grin, and Roderick entered on accord.

 6.

Gideon was crying. Not out of pain or terror or from a post-panic attack, but from pure joy.

Belle was trying to hold back her own tears. Seeing her love of books reflected in her baby’s eyes was one of the most beautiful things she’d ever seen.

Roderick chuckled, leaning over to a grinning Rumplestiltskin.

“I think he likes it.”

 7.

Neither one of them had seen the ocean before. Even in early summer when the wind was still sharp and cold, but the sand was warm and the waves were gentle.

It was so beautiful, but not as beautiful as Roderick’s expression as he tentatively stepped onto the grainy dirt, the tiny crystals oozing between his toes, the water just barely kissing his toes.

But Gideon saw the twinge of horror in his expression as well. There was too much space, too much light, and freedom. Rodrick wasn’t used to it, and having it all at once, and having just enough reassurance that it wouldn’t be snatched from him, was too much.

Gideon came up behind him, wrapping his arms around his waist as his breathing increased, holding his ear to his back until his heartbeat slowed its race.

 8.

There were questions as to where Roderick’s family was. Did his parents give him up, or was he truly stolen by the Black Fairy?

It filled Gideon’s mind to the brim with anxiety that he might leave. That he’d find his family and decide to stay with them, and Gideon would never see him again.

When Rumplestiltskin presented them the globe that would show them where Roderick’s family were, Gideon excepted his fate.

Roderick deserved happiness, deserved to know where he came from, that he was loved by someone other than him…

But Roderick pushed the globe back.

“My family’s right here.” He announced, and Gideon barely felt the younger man’s fingers intertwine in his own he was so shocked.

 9.

Roderick never knew his day of birth. Why on earth would the Black Fairy keep a record on someone who was supposed to die young?

Thus, the day they walked into the diner and half the town proclaimed congrats to Gideon’s 29th birthday, he leaned over and gave one small request to his mother.

Later, Granny wheeled out a grand cake with two candles, and Roderick stared at the flickering wax in concern.

“This is us,” Gideon tried to explain. “This…is our new beginning.”

Roderick stared at him. For so long he’d been an extension of Gideon, sharing each other’s burdens and triumphs.

Yet there was always this very thin divide that kept them from truly being together. Manipulation on the Black Fairy’s part, fear on Gideon’s.

“You’ve sacrificed so much for me,” Gideon continued. “And…I want to share this with you...if you want…I mean…”

“Could you two move it along! I am not eating cake with wax all over it!”

Gideon shot a quick glare at the dwarf that was close to his mother.

“Gideon.”

He turned back to Roderick. He was smiling, the answer in his eyes.

How could one person love him so much knowing good and well what he was?

On cue, the blew out their candles, and as their acquaintances and family cheered, Gideon leaned over the dancing smoke and kissed Roderick.

The affection was returned with a chuckle, and Gideon could taste the wax and icing on his breath.

It was the first time their kisses didn’t taste like apprehension.

 10.

Roderick never did get used to the sea, or any space that wasn’t surrounded by walls.

He did however manage to get used to the gated pool area of Gideon’s parents backyard.

Gideon sat a glass of ice tea beside him (his mother’s recipe) and joined him as they wistfully watched their daughter try to teach her little brother how to kick.

He glanced at Roderick—his husband of six years, which no matter how many times he thought about it the word still filled him with blushing joy.

“What are you thinking about?” he inquired.

Roderick continued staring out into the pool, at the family they had managed to build despite how all the odds were against them.

“Just…how nice it would have been had we actually gotten this life.”

And then—

Like a bad itch that never stopped.

The smell of the mines—

“What?”

Mother’s haunting laugh—

“I said—”

And then there’s him.

“Wait—”

Blue eyes and gentle smiles…

“Gideon you have to listen to me—”

“No!”

-,-,-,-,-,-,-

“Gideon, please,” Archie begged as Gideon began pacing. “Please, sit down, breath.”

Why should he? Why didn’t he just run? Just jump out the nearest window and be done with it all?

“Maybe I can do something?” Gideon sobbed, leaning against the over-plushed couch. “Maybe I can…I can…”

How do fix you something that was already broken?

“I can have it…I can get him back.”

“I’m sorry Gideon, but no,” the doctor said behind him. To his credit, he sounded positively wretched. “None of those things will ever happened, Gideon.”

Gideon looked up at the red-haired doctor his parents begged him to see after his last breakdown.

“Roderick died in the mines,” the doctor reminded him gently—as if Gideon needed it. “He’s gone, and you have to accept that all the things you wanted to happen to him just…” the doctor frowned, sorrowful that he even had to say the next part. “Won’t happen.”

Ever.

Gideon nodded. He’d been telling himself the same thing every time the fantasies fueled by years of regret plagued his dreams.

“I know,” Gideon responded, his thumb circling a hole in his jeans. “I know...I just…”

The doctor watched helplessly as Gideon’s shoulders began to shake, another wave of grief rolling off him.

How do you say goodbye to someone who’s already gone?

Gideon sobbed, the sounds suffocated by his hands.

“I never wanted anything bad to happen to him.”

[laketaj24]

Queens of Odin’s Eye: Ch 11

A collaboration piece with the lovely bad asses: @courtrae89 @grungyblonde @imgoldielikehawn

Catch up HERE

Warnings: SMUT, Language 

“Harder. Oh, fuck yes.” I pant raking my nails down his back. Ubbe obliges thrusting up into me. Finally, some personal time with him. He seemed distant for some reason, but this was heaven. He groans in my ear rocking his hips once again and my body winds against his greedily.

“You like that?” He says gripping my thighs pulling my body closer to him. My walls clench around him and I can feel my orgasm building. “Fucking shit Kia.” His hips snap against mine again and again.

“Fucking yes.” The vibrations from the cell phone start and I want to hurl it at the wall as he stops reaching over and grabbing it, still nestled between my legs.

“Hvitserk,” He moves in me smiling. “This better be good.” I can hear the sobs through the line. “Wait! what!” Ubbe jumps up on the side of the bed and quickly slides on his pants. “Hvit!” He yells. “Where the fuck are you? We’re coming! Hvit-,” he looks at his phone the call screen gone. Ubbe dresses quickly sliding his gun into the back of his pants. “Babe, get dressed.” He growls.

“What happened?”

“Kia, get fucking dressed! For fuck’s sake just do what the fuck you’re told for one second.” He’s flustered his eyes watering and his hands shake as he reaches for his clothes. He slips into his cut walking out of our bedroom. “Hvitserk is hurt, holed up at the warehouse on Eighth. I need you to head to the clubhouse.”

“I can help.”

“You were literally in handcuffs three weeks ago. You aren’t even supposed to be fifty feet within another felon and you want to help?” he raises his eyebrow at me.

“Court handled him okay? I can do whatever you need me to do.”

“Get dressed please babe, I can’t even fucking think right now okay.” He kisses me turning into the kitchen dialing some numbers on his burner phone.

I dress throwing the mess of my hair in to a low ponytail and grabbing my helmet. I didn’t know where he wanted me to go or what he wanted me to do but I hoped that I could help him. Hvitserk might have been a pain in the ass but he was still a brother.

Ubbe takes me to the clubhouse where everyone is waiting. Ivar slams his hand against the steel door letting out a ferocious growl. “That fucking cunt!” he yells. “I want her fucking dead. A bullet to the damn head was right.’

Ragnar pulls Ivar’s arm. “We’ve sent in the police department. We’re just awaiting the news. Court said she would call Floki once she has eyes on him and we can head to the hospital. Everyone remain calm, being pissed off is only going to make it worst.”

Brii sat down next to me. Her arm brushes mine and she stills turning to me with humorous eyes. There is worry on my face but mostly just frustration. “What?”

“You mad you didn’t get to finish?” she chuckles.

“Bitch, if I didn’t love you I would lay your ass out. Stay out my head.” I further down the couch. “Gray has to fucking die. All she ever does is stir up shit. Bitch gets dick down and she still takes more pleasure fucking the club.”

“Well, we will get her.” Brii swigs on the beer looking over to Bjorn. “Some shit went down the other night.” She whispers.

“I heard you in the damn bathroom throwing that ass back, I ain’t gotta be psychic to see that shit.” I mock her careful to not touch her. “Was he worth it?”

“I mean, yes.”

“Alright then, you got your nut and fucked Bjorn over. I like it.” My eyes shift over to Ivar who is frustratedly talking to his father. It was maddening how he was the only person that I could think about sometimes.

A few minutes pass and Floki’s phone rings. He places it on speaker quieting everyone down. “Court.”

“It was an ambush.” She huffs. “The 8s were there holding Hvitserk. They released him, but a few got away. He’s bleeding out bad, I mean horribly, and he’s head to Kattegat Memorial Hospital. I have to do some questioning but it’s safe to say it’s fucking war between them now. I would get people to safe houses and work out a plan.”

“Thank you.” Floki hangs up looking to Ragnar. “Well.”

“I told all of you this shit would blow back in your faces! I gotta call my ladies they’ll for sure be coming after anybody that associates with you asshats.” She growls. “I’ve a damn flight to catch.

Ubbe growls. “There are not enough safe houses in the fucking world.”

“I thought a meeting was scheduled. Huh?” Ivar stares at Ubbe. “you all were supposed to have a fucking sit down with these fuckers. What happened?”

Rollo shrugs. “Every call made to them was denied.”

“I had bigger issues.” He says looking over to me.

“Get in touch with Roderick somehow and schedule a fucking sit down. If my son dies, I’m going fucking kill him.”

“You get upstate with Helga, Uriah and mom are already headed there.” Ubbe hands me the key to the charger. “Once this all blows over you can come back.”

“I’m not hiding. If Brii can stay so can I Ubbe. It shouldn’t be hard to help you guys out.” I watch him grow more frustrated. “I will not argue with you about it Ubbe. I want to be with you. I can’t sit idle.”

“Then sit down and shut up until it’s settled, okay. I don’t need you tagging along, you slow me down.”

Ivar interjects. “She’s a hell of a shot. She rode with me and Rollo. She could be useful.”

“I didn’t fucking ask you Ivar.” Ubbe grabs his keys. “I’m going to the hospital. Kia, when I come back you need to be gone. Prospects! Make sure she gets upstate.”

They nod and everyone starts to leave the clubhouse. We were all spread out like some fucking cowards. Rollo clutches my shoulder. “Ignore him, he’s just frustrated about his brother. He wants you safe.”

He leaves the room and it’s just Ivar behind the bar. “Are you okay with the way your husband talks to you? Disregards all of your strengths at times when you are being a crazy woman and good ass shot are useful.” He smiles trying to get something out of me. But this day was fucked. He hops the bar walking over to me.

I shouldn’t be smoking weed, likely not the best thing given my new parole officer but fuck it. I light the blunt and take a few hits off it. The smoke clouds in front of me. “Go visit your fucking brother, Ivar. I don’t need you comforting me.”

“No, you have a husband for that.” He says shaking his head. “Hvitserk will be fine, just a touch of karma for him trying to fuck us over for some pussy.” He takes the blunt from me inhaling a drag and then handing it back. “I can take you upstate.”

“fuck off.” I say placing it in the ashtray and walking away from him. Ivar follows me, nearly heel to heel. “What did I say huh?” I push him and he catches my hands clamping them down beside me. “Ivar.”

“I miss you and yeah I see you here every day. But you’re so fucking angry all the time. I miss the old you that laughed and made this place lighter.”

His hands are like vice grips. Pinning me against the wall. He smells like sandalwood and that damn deep cologne he always wore. I shift shaking my head. “You don’t think it’s fucked up how you do this to him.” Words are pointless with him. It’s in his eyes that he doesn’t care. He shakes his head kissing me. It’s a like a release once our lips connect, I breathe heavily kissing him deeply. Ivar Sinks to his knees unbuckling my pants before I can even object and he kisses thighs. He drapes my legs over his shoulders and his tongue laps at my clit over and over. He sucks and thrust and works his magic sending me to a headspace I’d only dreamed about of late. My hands are in his hair tugging and pulling until the wave of euphoria drifts me to the fucking stars.

And then the door opens.

“She has eyes on Gray!” Ragnar says and then I see him throw his fist into the wall. “Get the fuck up. Here you are fucking around! Your brothers are busy saving lives and shit, while you’re fucking your brother’s wife. Ivar, the meeting is set with the fucking Eights. Go scout the meeting place, Now!”

Ivar shakes his head stepping back. He says nothing rolling his eyes. “I’m out.”

“Take her, you said she was a good shot.” Ragnar sighs. “We need all the fucking help we can get. Just keep your fucking clothes on.” The door slams with Ivar out. Ragnar’s eyes cut to me. “I get it.” He says running his hands through his hair. “I understand your feeling for him. But it’s not the time.”

I shake my head leaving with Ivar. Ivar hands me my helmet not making eye contact with me. “That shit can’t happen again.” I yell. “Do you understand me?”

“Whatever,” Ivar says rolling his eyes.

“No! You don’t understand me. What me and Ubbe have isn’t perfect but that doesn’t mean you can take advantage of it. Our shit works, no matter how fucked up it seems. You don’t do it again!” I say with his face inches from mine.

“Fuck you, Kia. Keep up.” His bike roars to life and I follow his lead. The eights are posted outside their clubhouse heavily strapped in public. This shit could not be real. Ivar parks and helps me off my bike leading me to the corner.

“They are fucking loaded today.” I say.

“The guy I killed was the President’s Son. I just found it out a few days back.” He pauses. “We should lay low and let them the others know it’s likely no damn negotiations.”

“All this shit is too much.” I say stepping back feeling someone behind me. I turn around seeing the man with his gun aimed to my temple. “Fuck.”

Ivar cocks his weapon and in an instant it’s knocked to the ground and a black sack is through over his head. Then it all goes black with the sudden crack over my head.

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[imgilmoregirl]

AO3 Link - FF.Net Link

Notes: This fic must be the definition of "I know you guys hate me for the slow updates". I'm so sorry it took me so long. I had a block, then things happened and it took me ages to finish this chapter, but I already have the rest of the fic sorted out, I know what I'm going to do which hopefully will make things easier for future updates to come faster. I did not abandon it in any way.

Chapter Twenty

There was always a commotion whenever visitors came to the dark castle, but usually it was a good one. Gideon and Rose had just appeared in the great hall to greet their brother and sister-in-law when they heard the screams and in a slit second their father had disappeared. They exchanged a quick glance before rushing outside the castle with Neal and Emma on their heels, unsure of what exactly could be happening.

None of them were really expecting anything by now s they had just returned home after a very unfortunate episode, but apparently life couldn’t give them a damn break. Gideon had spent hours considering different ways of telling his father about Roderick – because now that his mother knew, he couldn’t hide the facts for long anymore – however the time once more, didn’t seem to be the right one, but then it might never be.

Outside the castle, Rumplestitskin was kneeling on the floor, supporting Mrs. Potts’ body in one of his arms as she tried to stand up again. Neal immediately offered his hand to help and together, father and son pulled her back on her feet, although she still didn’t look very secure in her shaking legs. Mrs. Potts looked like she had seen a ghost, her face had gone pale and she desperately clutched at her apron, making it clear, how nervous she was.

"Papa, what is happening?" Neal asked the question everybody was obviously anticipating.

The imp looked up at him, the haunted expression in his face making Gideon’s heart skip a bit and suddenly, even before the answer left his father’s lips, he knew exactly what had happened, because there was only one person for who Rumplestiltskin would be this scared. The only person not present there, gathered with them by the castle’s gates.

"Someone took Belle," the Dark One mumbled.

Rose’s nails dig on the skin of his hand, he felt her shiver by his side. So, they were right this whole time, someone was really plotting to ruin their family.

"What?” Neal blinked. “Why?"

"Because somebody is apparently trying to test my patience but, oh, whoever did this will end this day dead."

The murderous look that overtook Rumplestiltskin’s face, replacing his fear and concern, was definitely something to worry about. They all knew him well enough to be aware of the things he would do for his loved ones and for Belle – his wife, his heart – he would kill and die. Gideon was about to start a phrase, tell him to be rational like his mother would, but he was already grabbing Emma’s arm, starting to drag her away, however the princess planted her feet on the ground, narrowing her eyebrows at him and refusing to leave.

"You're coming with me," the Dark One insisted.

"Where?"

"Wherever this freaking woman has taken my wife!"

"Wait, you can't go away like this," Neal interfered, standing between their father and his wife. "Let's take a seat a think about it."

It only served to irritate Rumple even more, but what he didn’t understand was that they were all preoccupied too, however starting a blind search only guided by anger, wasn’t going to help with anything. Gideon was pretty aware that his father’s love for his mother prevented him from thinking clearly right now and he imagined that if it was Roderick who was missing, he would act like a crazy man too, but it wasn’t so everything he could do was try to help.

"Are you mad, Baelfire?" Rumplestiltskin inquired.

"Please,” Gideon said, “it is the rational thing to do, we need to take Mrs. Potts inside first."

He knew his father was about to protest, but he didn’t quite have the time to, as Emma pulled away from him and passed an arm around Mrs. Potts shoulders, helping her inside as Neal and Rose followed them, leaving a very angry imp to snort and take his son’s lead back to their castle. This kidnapping still sounded very unclear to Gideon and, as they brought the maid to the dining hall and he summoned a glass of water for her, Gideon tried to look back to the whole last year in an attempt to understand who, would have any reasons to take his mother.

"Here, drink this," he said, offering the water to Mrs. Potts.

"Thank you."

She sat down on his mother’s reading chase and with the corner of his eyes, Gideon noticed Mr. Dove taking Chip and Colette upstairs, probably already knowing something bad was happening. His father came closer, impatiently glancing at the maid.

"Tell me more about the woman who took my wife," the imp demanded.

Mrs. Potts nodded, licking her own white lips before starting to speak.

"She was a bit taller than Lady Belle, she was older, was wearing black and had chestnut hair. She was powerful."

Rumplestiltsking sucked a breath, being the stillest he had been since this whole mess began. Even though he didn’t know what could be passing through his father’s mind, Gideon knew that it couldn’t be good.

"It can't be," the imp whispered.

"Papa?" Rose called him, nervously playing with the golden rings in her fingers.

Ignoring her, he turned back to Emma.

"You. Contact Henry now, I want answers about Wonderland and he better have them!"

"Wonderland?" Gideon inquired. "Papa, what do you mean?"

He swallowed hard, his eyes unable to focusing in any of them.

"I think Regina's mother got Belle."

Then, with a flourish of his hand, Rumplestiltskin vanished from the dining hall, leaving them to wonder if he was right or not.

Belle didn’t know how many time she spent locked in that cage with Ella before the guards appeared, but it certainly wasn’t a nice time. Her back was hurt, she couldn’t possibly find a comfortable position to seat and her bump seemed to have suddenly grown in weight, making everything more difficult. She was tired enough to have slept had she been able to take the cold and hard ground as a mattress, but unfortunately, she wasn’t, so Belle just kept staring at the stone walls, hearing Ella’s bitter murmurs about how they were going to die in there.

She couldn’t allow herself to think like that. Belle had plans. Gods, just that morning she and Rumple were talking about books and cribs, how could it all seem so distant now? She was supposed to be at home, helping him to find a way to get rid of the dagger, talking to her children, helping settle a guest room for Neal and Emma… Not here.

When the guards came, she didn’t know what exactly to expect, but she felt afraid when they broke into her prison and rudely took her out, however although Belle fought against them, she didn’t scream for help, because she knew nobody would come in her rescue, she was alone, left to save herself. They dragged her through long, infinity hallways until they reached what seemed to be a small dining hall, with a large – not as large as the one in the dark castle – wooden table in which a whole afternoon tea set was served, the woman who took her there, sat by the head of the table with a delighted smile in her red lips.

"Sit," Cora commanded.

The guards untightened the grip in Belle’s arms, pushing her against the table as if to give some emphasis to the lady’s words and she sighed, stressed, pulling a chair for herself and sliding onto it.

"I wasn't expecting any special treatment given the fact you kidnapped me,” Belle started with all the petulance she had, “but I guess tea is not that bad."

"You really think you should be using this tone with me? Do you have any idea of who am I?"

"Cora, Regina and Zelena's mother," she completed. "I've heard a lot about you."

"So, you know what I'm capable of."

Although she didn’t do it, Belle really felt like rolling her eyes at her. A long time ago, even before Gideon was born, Rumplestiltskin had told her a lot of stories about his past in an attempt to strengthen their relationship and one of those stories included Cora. He believed her to be dead by know – or at least that much he hoped as he resented that woman very, very much – but here she was as alive as one can be.

"Sure, but I'm curious," Belle said, looking straight at Cora. "Is this about the thing you had with Rumplestiltskin years ago or you're really just helping your friend to get what she wants?"

"I never do anything out of the goodness in my heart," Cora laughed, sipping her tea. There was an empty cup in front of Belle and a teapot nearby, an invitation for a drink, but she would rather die thirsty than to give Cora the chance of poisoning her with it. "I have an interest too, of course, but it has nothing to do with my past with Rumplestiltskin."

"So why me? And why Ella?"

Pulling her teacup down Cora took a moment to analyse Belle’s curious expression. She had too heard a lot about her, well, actually, Cora had done a lot of research when it come about the Dark Lady. The Queen of Hearts never thought somebody would be able to have the same effect she did in Rumplestiltskin, but she found out Belle had an even bigger one. What he had with her was a lot more than the physical attraction he had felt for Cora, their relationship wasn’t based in stolen nights, but in a deep kind of love she would never understand.

Someday, back to a distant past, Cora had believed herself in love with the imp, but after months of observation, she concluded that even if what she felt for him could one day evolve to love, it would never be reciprocal. At least, not that way. It would never be True Love. But she didn’t really care about it, she would have her happy ending once Gothel casted her curse – the same one Regina had once the chance of casting but was never able to.

"You two have a kind of fire we can't find often," Cora said. "Your daughter has it too, but it is just a tiny flame, it is not like yours. She is kind of a coward like her father."

Belle’s eyebrows narrowed.

"How do you know Rose?"

"She came to me a few months ago,” she shrugged. “I was hoping Maleficent would eat her and the boy alive, but I believe they never made it to her place."

A surprised gasp left Belle. Rose could trust her for some things, like talking about her relationship with Roland, but apparently, she still secrets of her own. Belle had no idea why her daughter would seek for someone like Cora, but she betted she had met her as a commoner in the village, not as her father’s evil old girlfriend or her boyfriend’s evil grandmother.

"How long have you been plotting this?"

"Oh, long, really long. Who do you think encouraged Agathe to get to Rumple?" Cora winked. "I must say I was hoping to kill you on my own, but as everything failed, I think Gothel's plan is the best option."

These words made a new lump appear on Belle’s throat. She been separated from her husband for so many time because of that woman?

"You helped Agathe?"

"I tried, she is too dumb to not do things right."

"I must have known…" Belle trailed off. "But why would you do all of this?"

"Because we need power and getting the Dark One's dagger is the only way I'll get it right now."

She didn’t know who “we” were, if Cora and Gothel or somebody else, but it didn’t sound good in any possible way. Belle couldn’t allow them to get anywhere near her husband’s dagger, because it wasn’t just the power who would belong to Cora and her evil friends if they got their hand’s in it, but his freedom too.

"And you thought what? That Rumple would be willing to trade the dagger for me?"

"No, I expected to weaken him," Cora said, tracing the border of her teacup. "First you, then the children and once everyone he loved was gone, he would be begging to be killed."

"This is a really stupid plan," Belle scorned.

And it really was. Of course, she couldn’t know the reasons why they were planning all this or what was their purpose, but even so, there were better ways of capturing the Dark One without harming is family. Unless you were trying to make him suffer.

"Oh, I bet you would have come up with something smarter," the Queen of Hearts rolled her eyes.

"Probably, yes," Belle shrugged, laying a protective hand on her stomach. "You have no idea what I'm capable of when it comes to my family, Cora. And if I were you, I wouldn't try to find out."

Cora’s dark eyes narrowed as they fell to her middle-section.

"Gothel will like to know about the babe. She was in need of a pure soul for her own plans."

Her jaw fell open and she stumbled up, walking as far from Cora as she could before the guards came to her side, gripping her arms painfully tight again, making her hiss and her eyes get full of tears, but she held her chin up anyway, defying that vile woman.

"Don't you dare thinking about taking my babe."

"I'll do whatever I want and whenever I wish," Cora stated, then turned to the guards, commanding. "Take her away."

"No, Cora," Belle yelled. "I swear to all of the gods that if you touch my baby I'll kill you! I will!"

Her screams echoed in the hallways until she was thrown back inside the cell.

Rose had lead them to Neal’s old chambers, the same ones in which they stayed whenever they came to visit and Emma immediately reached for the chest they had brought with clothes taking the dresses from the top of it and picking the hand mirror from inside of it. She still wasn’t sure if calling Henry back was the best option, but if she didn’t do it, Emma was afraid she would end the day as a snail, because she had never seen Rumplestiltskin so angry before.

Only a bit of magic was needed for her son to appear in the mirror, wearing a big red shawl around his shoulders, apparently sat against a tree. He looked really tired, which broke her heart a bit.

"Henry!"

"Mom," he looked up with a small smile. "It is nice to see you, but I'm afraid I can't talk for long."

"No, listen,” she begged. “Your grandfather might have a clue about Ella!"

It wasn’t exactly a clue and she knew it very well, but it could be as Gideon had quickly explained for them, his clever brain working as fast as waterfall, while the rest of them were merely trying to process the whole situation.

"What?" Henry asked, surely not convinced of that.

"Henry you need to come back home," Neal interfered, taking the mirror from Emma’s hand so he was in sight. "That might be the only way you have to find your wife."

"But he is not sure if this clue will take me to Ella, right?"

"Nothing is sure now, Henry," Emma answered. "But Lucy misses you."

It made him reconsider everything. His eyes became sad and all she could see was the little boy he once was and not the man in the other side of the mirror. He wanted to go back home but he feared if he did he would never see the love of his life again.

"I miss her too,” Henry admitted. “Every single day."

"Then come back," Neal insisted.

There was a moment of hesitation, but then, maybe his weariness or his eagerness to meet his daughter again, made Henry nod and they could see that he was picking his things up from the ground with a determination that not even his most faithful letters contained.

"I'll be there in two days."

"We are at the dark castle waiting for you," Emma guaranteed.

With a last smile, Henry disappeared, being replaced by their reflex.

[icharchivist]

OKAY so a Champion of the Just completed later, after hearing a lot of people recommanding it over In Hushed Whispers because it's "better to play" i finished it and i must admit i'm disappointed.

Okay so big thoughts eventually, and it may be full of bad faith because I really like IHW and when people compare something i like to something I don't know my bias become stronger, but those were basically my Hot Takes (NOTE: all of it is biased af, i mean it as "pros for Me" "Cons for ME" this is not a judgement of the quality of the quest in general)

Also under the cut bc damn i love complaining

Pros:

-The Concept of Envy. As a demon, it is incredibly cool, and I am mesmerized by what it can mean, of how many Envy Demons may actually exist, this kind of things. The gameplay inside of Envy's world was amazing, and the scenes to manipulate the Inquisitor were all really, really chilling. (but i'll go back on it more later for others reasons). Makes me want to see another Envy Demon in game, in a plotline that is more accessible.

-Cole's scenes. Cole introduction was great, Cole coming to help was great, Cole coming at the war table was amazing. All was fun and I love how his speech patern present itself. He's such an interesting characters in general.

-Ser Barris. True mvp. He was sweet and kind and I feel like he represented more what the Order should have been about instead of what it ended up being. Although i'm upset he can legit die this easily fuck this.

-Overrall nothing new is learnt tbh, but I am chilled by the line about "they often make us test different kind of lyrium" about the templars habits. This bring a whole new level of fucked up to the whole thing.

-Some of Envy's manipulations were actually very insightful on my character and made me understand her a little better, which i always appreciate. Being able to explore my character is always a welcomed thing.

-Bull has a very funny line when it comes to talking about Envy when you don't take him along.

-Cole's feeling toward the breach are kind of interesting, and i don't think it's that much mentioned when he comes after you closed the breach in the IHW run.

Eehhhhs (Not Pros but Not Cons either):

-The whole gameplay with the Templars holding the barrers. I've seen people complain that IHW had a dull playthrough and i think it may be because it's compared to that. Indeed, that was an interesting idea, but i hate going against the clock and in the end it didn't bring anything too interesting.

-Thematically speaking, the Envy quest tries to do with Cullen what the Future Quest did with Leliana: ie, showing the player how they would react to catalystic events reminding them of desperate times. Leliana was her loss of faith after the tortures she endured and her "failure" (it's not your fault bby), and Cullen was how, after he rebelled against the Envy!Inquisitor he feels he deserves to suffer if it is that he was too blind to realize he was serving another tyrant.. Both are things that can resonate a lot with both of those characters. Thematically it's coherent.

The problem though is that for Leliana, it was the Future: it was FACTS. It was actually happening. And by sacrificing herself to have you get back in the past, she gained her faith, at least in you, again to help you.

For Cullen, it makes absolutly no sense Envy shows that (more in a moment) and it doesn't actually happen to Cullen but to an illusion. So the impact is completely dull, even if i think it was intended just as much as fact value as Leliana's.

Cons:

-Here I go: Envy is a freaking moron oh my god. That destroys absolutly the full amazing concept, Envy is so much a moron.

Envy is supposed to serve for exposition the same way the timetravel quest does, but it backfire so badly. Alexius ended up making you travel in time because he wanted to erase you from the timeline, and if i recall, you weren't sent too far in time thanks to Dorian. Anyway, Alexius didn't expect it to happen this way - what you learn in the future are actual facts of the plans of Corypheus: you learn that he murdered Celene, that he unleashed demons, ect... but you learn them because /It happened/. Plus there are the chilling moments with the sky being clearly opened. ("It used to be that only dwarves were afraid of the sky, now it's just common sense")

But in this plotline, Envy is just a goddamn moron??? the justification is that Envy wants to see how you'll react to the things he shows you so he can impersonate you better but..... Then.... he ends up revealing the whole plan of Corypheus... just to see your reaction... while he's still planning on being a tyran at your place anyway so it's not like he'll be in character doing that.

This is SO STUPID and it takes out of the experience completely to me. Because it's just that Envy is such a moron, how did Corypheus trust him with anything??? that's so stupid, oh my god, so stupid.

Like, I don't completely fault the writting per se, bc I do think Envy would be that stupid (the concept being that he always wants more to impersonate someone, ye, makes sense) but it removes a lot of the weight you get in IHW.

In IHW I was terrified that this future may happen. In CotJ I was just angry that Envy believed it could happen, and that he would think no one would notice him being an idiot.

-Cole's involvement. It kinda sucks since I just said i loved his scenes, but this is just..... so weird. Dorian was involved in the mage quest because his Master was the one who put this trouble, and he wanted to help the mages. Cole was there for reasons totally indepedant from the templars, and his involvement is completely about helping you against Envy and that's it. Even him coming back later feels a little out of place and a little forced?

Or at least it feels so when the alternative is known. IHW feels much, much more natural, with him coming because he realized the threats, felt it, and tbh I find him being confusing even worse when the Templars are basically assaulting us - and him being a support for Roderick makes so much poetic sense in a way that it wouldn't as much with Dorian (especially with Cole reminding Roderick his own thoughts and all).

So in CotJ it just feels.... a little out of place in general?

-The companions almost bring completely nothing to the plot orz. I had Cass, Viv and Solas and Cass and Viv had a few little sidecomments that were neat, but in comparaison to IHW this was lacking. 

-Hell the whole emotional impact of the Future of IHW is far better.

-The templars involvement was weird. The Red Templars were antagonists sure, but since the focus was so much on Envy it was really distracting from what was happening to the Templars. It was more balanced out in IHW.

-I still hate the Templar Order and this quest didn't make me like it at all. The result of having them joining the inquisition are underwhelming, but that's mostly bc i dismantled them. Still though I've never felt this disliked by the Advisors, yet three out of four of the advisors were against me allying with the mages and they were much more graceful about it than they were with the whole dismantling the Templars thing. 

-I went from them being sweet and soft with me to them being disappointed with me the templar run is hell.

-Speaking of bad, something i mentioned before, but ti's basically confirmed that even while dismantled the Templars are still looking for ways to controle the mages even against Cullen's and Cass's orders. I hate the Templars so damn much. It remplaces a scene which were just showing a mage complain because they were cold. Kinda shows their priorities.

Long story short, I think it is definitly worth a try in term of gameplay because there are some interesting stuff, but even without speaking about how i'm morally against the templars and that IHW is just more Morally Right, it just feels like it's less coherent in the narrative. Interesting to /play/ but not interesting to live in a timeline i'd say.

That's my Hot Take and i'm probably too harsh because I really liked IHW and saw a lot of people compare the two, and that i've played it non stop just to be just "that's.... it?" about it, so i guess i point out the flaws too much.

But ye, IHW ftw and now i get back to this real, better timeline thank u for your attention.

[tratius]

A chance meeting

Roderick was not always a soul-less megalomaniac, he once cared tremendously about a great deal of stuff.

Catherine quietly closed the door behind her and she took a moment to compose herself, sucking in a breath as she wiped her face dry of tears. She looked down the corridor that she now found herself standing in once more. A lavish corridor, with fine paintings hanging on the crimson-wallpapered walls, paintings of pastoral scenes, or scowling-faced men. Right now she couldn’t appreciate the fineness of the art, for copious crying had made her eyes sore and her head ache.

As she stepped away from the door another maid came. They both exchanged a brief look of recognition, Katherine smiled, as though to reassure the other woman, but she just frowned and entered the room, scuttling in as quietly as she could manage before closing the door once again with the quietest of clicks.

Silence.

Catherine took a moment to smooth her hair back away from her face, tucking the brown strands into place. Her locks glimmered auburn in the flickering gaslight and she frowned, remembering how he had always complimented the red tones… she brought her hood up to hide it, Readying herself to depart, she shook her cloak further about her shoulders. Cheap, grey wool rustled around her as she began her trek down the corridor, past the faces that always seemed to sneer, that always used to seem so distant, but now just looked judgingly down upon her. She held her stomach protectively.

She knew this wasn’t her life, that she was not welcome here, she never belonged amongst this finery and wealth. But Catherine Smith wasn’t prepared to let them see her scurry away like a burned dog. “I am just as good as them… If they knew, they’d fuckin’ die of shame,” she hissed under her breath.

The expansive corridor soon opened out into the main hall, a large, even more opulent room designed to impress visitors. A shining, golden chandelier hung from the vaulted ceiling, dazzling crystals casting refracted candlelight that lit the room brightly.

A short flight of stairs led down to a lower landing, upon which sat a tall grandfather clock, it ticked ponderously, large cogs visibly working through the transparent case, framed by meticulously polished walnut oak. She remembered working on it, all those months ago - how the rag had smelled strongly of vinegar as she polished out every scarring blemish… But she didn’t pause to reminisce, she swooped past the clock, and down another short flight of stairs, onto the lower floor of the foyer.

Oak panelled walls surrounded her, framed with more paintings. Carved wooden beams held up the grand balustrade above, depicting scenes of horse mounted hunting, and packs of wolves, or birds taking flight. She didn’t pause to admire the expensive artwork. intent instead on the doors before her. But a glimpse of something out of the corner of her eye caused her to freeze suddenly.

“You couldn’t leave well enough alone… Could you?” The slurred question came from the huddled, dark-haired form slouched against one of the wooden beams. It sniffed as Catherine turned to face it.

“What?” she asked incredulously.

The sound of bottles clinked as Roderick stepped away from the pillar, or perhaps more aptly - he stumbled. He held in his hand a glass of amber liquid that sloshed haphazardly over the sides and onto the floor, before being brought to his lips and swigged down.

“You!” he hissed, slinking out from his hidden alcove, and bringing with him the scent of mixed liquors, heady and fuming.

“R-Roderick? Light Above! Have you been- Drinking?!” she tried to hide her astonishment and shock; the man was usually so good at maintaining an immaculate appearance of utmost control and grace, but now he was the opposite. He was dishevelled, his collar undone, his waistcoat unbuttoned, the white hem of his shirt poked out scruffily from the waistband of his trousers, while his once well-brushed hair had fallen haphazardly down across his face.

“So what if I have!” He snarled, flopping against the pillar. “I think under the shircumsta- Sh-... Circumshtances I am entitled to a tipple…” He hiccuped unceremoniously before sliding down to sit on the floor, unwilling or unable to rely on his legs to keep him standing. “You have -gall- woman. You -did- this!” his angry words slowly subsided to a broken sigh.

Catherine blinked. “Roderick-” she softened her voice. “Roderick, this isn’t anyone’s fault. Your brother is sick, he-”

“He was -poisoned-” Roderick snarled, shooting back to his feet too quickly and stumbling, hand against the pillar.

Catherine stammered, blinking through the tears. “What?”

Roderick wiped his face with the back of his sleeve. Some composure returning. “You heard me, woman. He was -poisoned-”

“Where’s your proof, Roderick?”

He didn’t respond, he couldn’t respond, he was drunk. She knew this, his mind was scrambled with grief and drink. Reaching out she laid a gentle hand on his shoulder. “Roderick, I know you’re grieving, I know how you feel-”

“You know nothing!” The bottle smashed as he threw it against the wall. And she stumbled back, hands protecting her belly, this caused Roderick to pause, he saw this, eyes widening, he looked down at her stomach, then at her face, shocked.

“You’re-”

“Pregnant.”

His eyes shone. “My brother?”

“Was going to be a father, yes…” she held her head high as she said this, even as it sucked all the strength from Roderick’s frame, he crumpled back down onto the floor, head in his hands. Of all the emotional outlets he had, he chose the last one she would expect from him - he sobbed.

“Y-you must go, Cat, you can’t stay here, if the rest of us found out-”

“Roderick?”

“Cat. Please. For the sake of my brother’s child, leave. Hide. Go. Somewhere remote, somewhere hidden - if my father finds out about you and him, he will not stop hunting you down. This is an affront to his pride-” he spoke through his tears. Stammering and speaking in a flood of words, she tried to follow as best as she could. “Roderick-”

“Promise me!” he snarled.

Affronted, upset and stunned, she took a moment to recover, she stared at the man before her, he was frantic, this she could tell, and even if he was lying, she knew that his father was not the type of man to let an insult, or disgrace like this slide… she sucked in a breath, and nodded.

“I will. I promise.”

[yes-i-can-hear-you-clemfandango]

Me over here still Not Happy with Laszlo’s people for being so dismissive of his trauma with regards to his POS “father”

Putting it under a cut because I have a Lot Of Thoughts (Clemmy projects because Clemmy aka me had a POS “mother”)

Okay so like… Laszlo’s mentioned things his father did over the seasons that made me think his father absolutely sucked… and I was so right

So Roderdouche shows up all “hey yeah about that let’s just move on right? We good?” And… the others were pushing Laszlo to reconcile with him. Just- no. No no no no no no no. Abusive people are not entitled to reconciliation no matter who they are and their victims are not required to re-traumatize themselves to ease their abusers’ guilt

Plus the gross old fart comes in, calls Nadja a hooker (I was kind of surprised she thought that was charming like ewww), tries to kiss Memo (again ewwwww stop that you dirty old man) and wants to use his son’s hands to- no nononono fuck off and die you nasty old MFer

Just about the only ones who didn’t/wouldn’t have fully get sucked into Rodershit’s slimy little scheme were Guillermo (who has Bad Parent issues of his own from a different angle) and had he been around, Seany (my guy Seanaaaayy would’ve been throwing hands, feet and everything else had he been there). Disappointing… and yes I am overanalyzing a fictional character’s trauma because I relate to it all too well.